The Battle of Betazed - Charlotte Douglas [11]
“There isn’t a person on this ship you haven’t helped in your capacity as ship’s counselor,” he finally began.
“That is my job, sir.” His sudden change of subject left her puzzled.
“Myself included,” Picard added. “Your steady presence has helped me through some of the most difficult moments of my life.”
Deanna remembered well the many emotional traumas the captain had suffered, from assimilation by the Borg to Cardassian torture to the intense mind-meld he’d experienced with Ambassador Sarek. Any one of those experiences would have destroyed a lesser man.
“After our meeting this morning, I asked myself,” Picard continued, “to whom does the ship’s counselor talk when she has a problem? I decided to offer my services as a listener.”
At the captain’s sudden and unexpected kindness, tears misted Deanna’s eyes. “It’s different with the shoe on the other foot. I don’t know where to begin.”
“Tell me about this Tevren. His name isn’t mentioned in our Starfleet database on Betazed. No one knew he existed until we received the resistance message.”
“I’m not surprised. Most Betazoids have never heard of him—and for good reason.”
Picard frowned. “If the information’s classified—”
“It is, but since my own people have opted to divulge their best-kept secret, I see no harm in sharing it with you, sir. Especially since you’ll be leading the attack on Sentok Nor.” Deanna nodded, took a reinforcing sip of hot chocolate, and thought back to the day she first learned of Hent Tevren. “Seventeen years ago, during his first year of incarceration, I had just begun my advanced behavioral psychology internship at Darona’s prison for the criminally insane… .”
When her shuttle landed at Jarkana spaceport on a bright summer morning, twenty-two-year-old Deanna was both excited and somewhat awed at the prospect of her new responsibilities on Darona. A uniformed attendant met her.
“Deanna Troi?” he asked.
She nodded, recognizing the prison insignia on his uniform sleeve.
“I’m Director Lanolan’s personal aide. He’s sent his private air car for you.” Without another word, the stocky attendant had gathered her luggage beneath both arms and steered her toward the waiting vehicle.
He’d remained silent as they soared low over the landscape for her to see the view, but she hadn’t minded the lack of conversation on the short trip to Jarkana, Darona’s capital city. She’d been too busy taking in the fields of young grain and cavat, and many exotic plants she didn’t recognize. In the distance, nestled among trees near meandering rivers, stood experimental farms and their outbuildings. Also lining the highway below were neatly fenced pastures where unusual specimens of farm animals from all over the sector grazed, and beyond them, to the west, the dark crags of the Jarkana Mountains rose in a ragged skyline against a rose-colored sky.
Deanna recalled holos she’d seen of prison locales of other cultures, harsh and unforgiving sites with climates of frigid cold or searing heat that did nothing to heal a sick or wounded soul. She was proud that her own people cared enough to rehabilitate even their worst offenders in an atmosphere of serenity and natural beauty.
Betazed itself was similarly parklike, lush and green over most of the habitable surface of the planet, but somehow she found the air on Darona different. With a start, she recognized the elusive feeling: freedom. For the first time in her life, she was completely on her own. She loved her mother dearly, but until today, all Deanna’s trips and adventures had included Ambassador Lwaxana Troi, and her mother, like a force of nature, had a way of sweeping her daughter along in her plans with scant regard for Deanna’s preferences. For the next four months, however, Deanna would be responsible to no one but Director Lanolan. Her weekends and holidays would be hers to spend as she wished. The prospect made her giddy with anticipation.
The air car hovered over the city, which by Betazoid