The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [51]
“Tasha,” cried Crusher catching hold of the woman’s shoulders. “You’re back on the Enterprise.” The doctor didn’t release her grip until Yar had stopped struggling and her eyes had focused, but Crusher noted that the pupils were still dilated.
“I must have been dreaming.” Yar’s voice quavered as she spoke. “I thought I was drowning.”
“You’re just not used to breathing a liquid atmosphere,” said Crusher with a reassuring smile, brushing a damp curl of Yar’s hair off her forehead. Yar was still breathing rapidly, but the colored lights of the diagnostic panel had stabilized. Her physical condition was good; her emotional recovery would take a while longer.
“What about him?” asked the lieutenant, nodding toward Jason, who lay prone on a nearby medical table. “Is he all right?”
“He’ll be unconscious until the effects of the sedative wear off.” Crusher signaled two nurses to carry Jason into another ward for continued observation, then turned back around at the sound of a metal latch coming undone. Yar had swung up the cover of the diagnostic scanner and was scrambling down off the table. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m fine now,” said Yar even as she grabbed the edge of the platform to steady herself. “I should be at my post.”
Crusher saw the woman’s pallor give way to a flush of embarrassment at the thought of her collapse. Yar would have been further mortified to know that Data had carried her to sickbay. “You have been relieved of duty, Lieutenant. I want you under medical observation for a full twenty-four hours.”
“But I was unconscious for only a few minutes.”
The doctor knew Yar’s stubborn temperament and didn’t waste time on gentle persuasion. “Tasha, if you don’t get back on that bed, I’ll have you sedated.”
The threat lacked finesse, but it achieved the desired effect. Dr. Crusher had no intention of letting the officer go until any ill effects from her exposure to the Choraii environment had been ruled out. And the spicy aroma had been explained.
“Lieutenant Yar passed out?”
“She seemed to be having difficulty breathing, sir.” Data’s intention may have been to reassure the captain that the rescue attempt had been successful, but his graphic description of the scene in the transporter room only heightened Picard’s alarm.
Ambassador Deelor, however, appeared satisfied with the knowledge that the lieutenant and the captive were in sickbay. “Lieutenant Worf, open a channel to the B Flat,” he ordered, then drummed his fingers impatiently as the Klingon looked to Picard for confirmation of the command.
“Thieves!” The Choraii were as one in their accusation. “This wasn’t a trade.”
“Well, let’s see if I can salvage some shred of good accord,” whispered Deelor to Picard. He raised his voice to answer the Choraii accusation. “The extra lead is still yours. We offer payment for what we have taken.”
“Keep your metal, only let us go!”
Picard heard the disharmony in their voices and recognized the futility of the ambassador’s attempt. “If we hold their ship any longer, the Choraii may resume fighting.”
“Very well,” said Deelor after a short pause. “Release them.”
An impassive Lieutenant Worf cut power to the tractor beam. As soon as the four rays retracted, the B Flat shot away at full speed. The entire crew watched with fascination as the bubble cluster shrank to a pinpoint size on the viewer, then disappeared entirely.
“Moving out of long-range sensor range,” announced Worf. “Gone.”
As abruptly as it had begun, the confrontation with the Choraii was over. The Enterprise had won. Captain Picard reflected briefly on his ship’s triumph, then moved on to the demands of the present. He looked over to the ambassador.
“I’m just a passenger now,” Deelor said, divining the question in Picard’s mind. “You can drop me off at Starbase Ten, along with Ruthe and the Hamlin survivors.”
“That will have to wait until after we have taken the Farmers home,” said Picard. “Our passengers have suffered enough inconvenience as it is.”