Possession - J.M. Dillard [46]
At that, Picard caught Riker’s eye and performed a disapproving double take when Will confirmed the fact with a nod.
“You were shouting, ‘Run! Run for your life!’ ” Riker prompted her. “Is that the voice Skel heard?”
“Yes,” she said, her tone abruptly conveying the depth of her exhaustion; she lowered her beautiful face, her dark curling hair spilling forward, emphasizing the shadows beneath her pale cheekbones, beneath her infinitely weary eyes. She looked so drawn and delicate—an appearance Riker knew from experience was resoundingly misleading—that he was again overwhelmed by the urge to protect her. “The voice of his mother trying desperately to save her only child. Such a terrible memory. I’ll never forget it.”
“Isn’t it unusual for you to pick up such a powerful impression?” Crusher asked, leaning forward herself with concern. “I mean, you’re telling us about scenes as if you were there. Quoting actual dialogue.”
“Yes, very unusual,” Troi admitted. “But Skel is a telepath; and sometimes, when Betazoids interact with telepaths, the results can be unpredictable. Especially under such unusual circumstances.”
“Deanna,” Crusher said quietly, and Riker could tell by her voice that she was about to broach a difficult subject, “your brain waves are very erratic. I’m afraid that this contact with Skel may have had some repercussions for you.”
“It’s not just Skel,” Deanna insisted firmly. “It’s those artifacts.” She focused on Picard, her expression grim. “I don’t know how, but they had something to do with my dream, the fact that I couldn’t wake up. They’re a danger to every person on this ship!”
“Counselor—” Picard began reasonably, but she would have none of it.
“We must destroy them immediately, Captain! We can wait no longer! Every moment we delay—”
“Counselor Troi!” Picard interrupted firmly. His voice was modulated and calm, much calmer than Riker knew he felt. “I have been in touch with the Vulcans. We are scheduled to rendezvous with one of their science vessels tomorrow.”
She looked up at him, aghast. “Tomorrow is too late! And sending them back to the Vulcans merely passes the danger on to someone else. We must destroy them now!”
Picard drew back, his expression grim. After a few seconds’ silence, he turned to Crusher. “Doctor, if you will excuse Commander Riker and myself?”
“Yes, of course,” Crusher agreed, seeming almost relieved to get them out of the room.
Riker gave Deanna’s shoulder a squeeze and extracted himself from the bed, then followed Picard out of the room.
The instant the bedroom doors shut behind them, Picard spoke.
“What the hell is going on here? I gave express orders that Skel was to have no contact with Counselor Troi! What do you know about this?”
“I know that when I went to Deanna’s quarters last night to check on her, I found Skel inside. Obviously, he was just about to leave. I deemed it pointless and offensive for me to question his purpose. When I asked Deanna about it, she was vague, and something she said made me question whether you’d already told him to stay away from her. I assumed—wrongly—that you’d intended to do that in the morning, considering the late hour we’d spoken.”
Will frowned now, wondering if anything would’ve been different if he’d spoken to Picard last night. “I slept on the couch. To give her a sense of security.” He smiled grimly. “I woke up hearing her scream. My first thought was that she was under attack. That Skel had somehow gotten in here, past me, and was after her. Are we all cracking up?”
Picard looked unhappy. “I spoke to Skel last night before I spoke to you, Will. I told him, as politely and as reasonably as I could, that it would be better for Deanna if she had no further contact with him. He was the soul of reasonableness itself when he agreed with me.”
“So, he disobeyed you. A Vulcan disobeyed a captain’s orders.”
Picard shook his head. “I didn’t make it an order. I know I could have, but why would you have to order a Vulcan to do something so simple? I requested