The Battle of Betazed - Charlotte Douglas [26]
She reached out empathically, sensed in him complex emotions, feelings that he reined in tightly, and she assessed his deep weariness, at odds with his tough and energetic exterior. Unable to pinpoint whether he was tired of special operations, the war, some other aspect of his life, or a combination of the three, she came to believe he had a good heart. Sparring with him suggested he wasn’t the type to hurt anyone he didn’t feel compelled to. He valued life. He wasn’t a career soldier because he relished the thrill of battle; in fact, as far as she could tell, he truly hated it. He was doing a job he didn’t want to do, simply because he believed in the objective.
“I know you won’t fail when the time comes,” he said finally, “because you have good genes.”
Deanna frowned. “You mean from my father.”
“Don’t sell your mother short, either. Lwaxana is as formidable an individual as I’ve ever met. She and Ian—” He stopped and looked at her, then, smiling wistfully. “You probably don’t remember the first time we met. You were just a baby.”
“No,” Deanna admitted. “But I do remember the last time we met.”
Vaughn’s smile faded, and he looked away. “I’m sorry, Deanna,” he said quietly. “Your father was a good friend to me. He saved my life once, and I’d have given anything to do the same for him. I know that doesn’t change the fact that I went home from that last mission, and he didn’t.”
Deanna didn’t know what surprised her more, the fact that her father had saved Vaughn’s life, or the revelation that Vaughn had been there when he died.
Seeming to guess her thoughts, Vaughn shook his head. “The details aren’t important. What matters is that when things were at their worst, Ian Troi always did what needed doing. Your mother is the same way. And, I suspect, you are too. But believe me when I tell you that if there was anyone else I could turn to so I could spare you all this, I would.”
Deanna felt ashamed then, knowing she would never wish the dilemma she was faced with on anyone else, but knowing also that to turn her back on it was never really an option. Where this path she was now on would take her, she didn’t know. But her course, at least, was finally clear.
Deanna got to her feet, offering Vaughn her hand. “Show me more.”
Vaughn looked up at her. A look of sorrow came briefly to his eyes, then quickly hardened into determination. After a moment, he took her hand and pulled himself up.
Tilting her head back, Deanna closed her eyes as the spray of hot water warmed her skin, soothed her aches, and relaxed her mind. After four grueling hours sparring with Vaughn—followed by two more hours of combat with holographic Jem’Hadar after Vaughn had excused himself for another meeting with the captain—Deanna had gone back to her quarters, stripped off her uniform, stepped into the shower stall, and simply let the heat and steam envelop her. The water, as hot as she could stand it, massaged her flesh in ways the sonic setting couldn’t compare.
Deanna collected water into one cupped hand and then released it, letting it dribble through her fingers. Plans were proceeding apace now. After weeks of inactivity, the Enterprise had come alive as repair teams scurried throughout the ship, battle drills got under way, and new crewmembers rotated aboard from the starbase. One way or another, it seemed, the assault on Sentok Nor was going forward, though what would follow was still anyone’s guess—just as it was still uncertain how her team was going to make it to the surface of Darona undetected.
Something stirred suddenly in her mind. As always, she sensed Will’s presence at the door of her quarters before he signaled. “Come in, Will,” she called.
Through the sound of the cascading water, she followed the trail of Will’s emotions as he entered her quarters: his surprise at seeing the combat uniform tossed carelessly on the floor