Possession - J.M. Dillard [29]
“He knew he was facing serious charges,” Riker rationalized over this last.
But Deanna shook her head. “No. He didn’t fear imprisonment. He feared for us. At the very last second, there was a surge of emotional outlay—fear, sadness, terror, hatred, violent rage—all of it triggering a sickening pleasure in the Ferengi. But under all that was a core of courage, and the determination that he alone could save us. He destroyed the ship to save all of us.”
The bridge was silent. Finally, Picard said, “He must have been convinced he’d been exposed to the disease. I can’t explain it any other way.” He touched his communicator. “Dr. Crusher, are you still convinced that Skel is free of any alien organism?”
“Yes, Captain,” Crusher responded. “I’ve treated him through the quarantine unit for a variety of abrasions and the residual effects of close-range phaser fire, but other than that he is perfectly healthy.”
“Can you determine if the research artifacts have been damaged, or opened in any way?”
“According to scanners,” Crusher replied, “they are completely intact. As far as I can determine, they have never been opened, and Skel assures me that they escaped damage while in the hands of the Ferengi.”
Picard stared at the slowly expanding cloud of debris that had once been the Ferengi vessel. “Dr. Crusher, please keep the scientist Skel under full quarantine until I’ve had a chance to speak with him.”
“Certainly, Captain,” Crusher agreed.
Picard turned to his crew. “It’s unfortunate the Ferengi officer chose to take his own life before we could learn more about this incident. However, Skel and the artifacts are safe and apparently unharmed. Number One, please effect a change in crew immediately. You all deserve a good night’s sleep. Well done, everyone.”
Picard started for the turbolift, then had a moment’s reconsideration. “Counselor Troi? May I impose upon you?”
Riker stared at Deanna, clearly concerned about her condition. She smiled wanly at the commander, then stood up and moved to join Picard by the lift.
“Of course, sir,” she assured him with forced cheer. “I’ll be happy to accompany you to interview Scientist Skel.”
Picard nodded in gratitude. As they both entered the lift, however, he couldn’t help but wonder just what it was he had beamed aboard his ship, and whether he could afford to ignore the ranting of one suicidal Ferengi.
Chapter Three
DR. BEVERLY CRUSHER watched with admiration and concern as, behind the transparent shield of the quarantine facility, the Vulcan scientist attended to his own minor abrasions. Skel had assured her he was well-versed in the use of medi-scanners and tissue regenerators, and the ease with which he used the facility’s medical equipment testified to his proficiency. Lean and tall, his dark hair streaked with silver, Skel moved with the serenity and grace typical of his people; yet shadows gathered beneath his calm eyes, and his complexion seemed sallow. He was exhausted, Beverly decided, and her assumption was borne out by the diagnostic readouts on the unit. The scientist was still recovering from the effects of phaser fire, he’d had no nourishment in over twenty-four hours, and he was suffering from fatigue and the effects of extreme stress. Minor stuff, most of it, especially for a Vulcan.
“After the captain talks to you, Skel,” Beverly said, “I want you to eat. Then you can rest and let your body take over your healing. There’s no reason you can’t go into a healing trance for as long as you need.”
He glanced in her direction, then lowered his gaze. “I doubt I will have time to do that, Doctor, though I appreciate your consideration. I am still due to present my findings at the TechnoFair. I have colleagues aboard this vessel that I must collaborate with before then. I have lost valuable time already.”
Beverly sighed. She knew better than to argue with a Vulcan about putting personal needs before duty. “Well, you can at least spend some time—”
In the outer rooms behind them, the doors opened; that would be the captain, Beverly knew. “Excuse