something greater than themselves. It is not easy,
Deanna, to sublimate your interests and
desires to those long gone and those to come. But the
happenstance of your birth and lineage means that you owe
it, not only to those who preceded you, but to those who will
follow. Please, Deanna ... tell me that you
won't let me down."
In her face was more of a pleading expression than
Deanna had ever seen. At that moment, as they had
so often before, her own interests and willpower wilted
before the needs and demands of the woman who had so
shaped her life.
"Of course, Mother. I won't let you down."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
Lwaxana drew herself up, almost looking
embarrassed about her heartfelt plea. "Well
... that's ... that's good to hear. Um ... it's
early, but ... how would some hot chocolate sound
to you about now?"
Deanna had to smile at that. Chocolate was
one of the few tangible reminders--aside from
Deanna's presence, of course--of her father.
He had absolutely adored chocolate, and it
was a craving that he had imprinted on his wife and,
apparently, passed on to his daughter. She
licked her lips at the thought and said, "That would be
wonderful ... but I wouldn't want you to go to any
trouble."
"Oh!" Lwaxana waved dismissively. "It
won't be any trouble at all." She turned,
cupped her mouth, and bellowed in a voice that
shook the rafters, "Homn! Wake up!
Deanna wants some hot chocolate!"
"Mother! I thought you were--" And then
she saw Lwaxana's stunned expression and
amended, "I could have made it."
"Oh, nonsense. A daughter of the Fifth
House? What an absurd notion."
"But why did you have to yell?"
"Because Mr. Homn has an annoying habit
of sleeping through my thought-castings. Amazing. The
only other person I ever met who could do that was
your father."
Mr. Homn appeared moments later.
To Deanna's surprise, the towering manservant
was fully dressed. She wondered if he was
simply a fast dresser, or whether he just
slept that way in the event that Lwaxana needed
him for something. Actually, for all she knew, he
never slept. Certainly life with Lwaxana would
seem to preclude the opportunities for such
mundane activities.
"Deanna wants some hot chocolate,"
Lwaxana informed him.
Mr. Homn looked at Deanna
impassively, and Deanna gestured in a
manner that silently said, I'm sorry about
all this. Homn merely inclined his head
slightly and headed off toward the kitchen.
"Now you see, Little One?" said Lwaxana,
looping her arm through Deanna's. "There are still some
people who know how to give proper respect to those who
are entitled to it. I suggest that you keep that in
mind ... particularly in the way that it applies
to Lieutenant Riker."
Deanna looked at her nervously. "You're
not going to contact Starfleet, are you? We're just
friends, Mother."
"Just friends because of your actions, my dear, not
his. But no ... I doubt I'll really speak
to Starfleet about him. After all, Little One"--
Lwaxana patted Deanna's cheek--?y do
want me to trust you, don't you?"
CHAPTER 22
Breakfasting at their customary caf@e, Riker
and Roper looked up in surprise when Gart
Xerx appeared next to them. "So here's where you're
hiding, Roper," he said in mock annoyance to the
Federation ambassador.
Roper shrugged. "This is where I am every
morning. Ask Mr. Riker here."
"He is," said Riker solemnly.
"I can vouch for him."
"Although actually," said Roper, putting his
napkin down, "I hate to say this, but I have
to cut our usual morning ritual short. I have
an early meeting this morning."
He started to rise, and Riker automatically
started to put his own food aside, even though he
hadn't finished it. But Roper quickly stopped him.
"Just because I have to abort breakfast, Captain,
friend Xerx."
"Great friend," said Xerx with an exaggerated
harrumph. "Didn't come to my daughter's
wedding weeks ago."
Roper shrugged. "My daughter and the captain
here attended on my behalf. And I did send a
lovely gift, didn't I?"
"Quite true," said Xerx diplomatically.
"So there you are then," said Roper with
satisfaction. He gestured to the now empty
chair. "Sit. Order something and charge it to me."
"As you wish, Mark." Xerx sat and then
waited patiently until Roper departed.
"He'll regret that," Xerx told Riker.
"Why?"
A moment later, the waitress walked up with a
steaming plate of food and placed it in front of
Xerx. Riker stared at it and said, "That's the most
expensive thing on the menu."
"Yes, I know," said Xerx cheerily.
"Want some?"
"No thanks."
Xerx looked at him quizzically. "By the way
... "captain"'? I thought you were a
lieutenant?"
"That's right. It's a ... well, a sort of
running joke between myself and Mark."
"Yes. He does have a peculiar sense of
humor."
"So," said Riker, taking a sip of coffee
before continuing, "how is your daughter doing?"
"You know how it is with young marrieds," said Xerx
with a small laugh. "They live in a world of their
own making. At the moment they're still doting on
virtually everything that the other one does. The way
each of them walks, talks, breathes. We had
them over the other night, and it was amusing to see how
Chandra simply sat and adored the way her new
husband chewed his food."
"Chewed his food?"
"Newlyweds. What can I say?" Xerx
shrugged, and then his eyes narrowed slightly. "And
how goes it with you and young Miss Troi?"
Riker raised an eyebrow. "Reading my
mind, Gart?"
"Merely enough to confirm what I already knew. I
noticed the way you were staring at her at the wedding and
reception. And I also know that you've been seeing
her socially. I've overheard Deanna and her
friends discussing it at the university."
"What were you doing at the university, if you
don't mind my asking?"
Xerx took another forkful of food. "I'm a
professor of psychology. Where else would I
be?"
"Oh. I didn't know that."
"Somehow it never came up. I even have
Deanna in one of my classes."
"Is it the class where they teach about nude
therapy?"
Xerx stared at him. Gart had been about to eat
another forkful, but now it
remained suspended
several inches from his mouth. "I beg your pardon?"
"I'd heard there was this ... technique ...
where a patient and his or her therapist take off
their clothes and lie next to each other ... even
..." He cleared his throat. "Even pressing
up against each other."
"I'd think that would probably lead to sex,"
said Xerx, looking amused.
"Well, no. It's done in order to move
past physical considerations and deal with each other
in a purely intellectual manner. But ...
why am I explaining this to you? I mean, certainly
you know about ...?"
Xerx was trying not to laugh. "Lieutenant ...
I've been teaching, and practicing, psychology
for going on thirty years now. And I can assure
you I've never heard of any "technique"' that
has therapist and patient removing their clothes and
lying against each other ... except in those cases
specifically involving sexual dysfunctions and
therapy for those dysfunctions. Was this a case
involving dysfunctions?"
"N-no," stammered Riker, looking utterly
befuddled.
"In that case," said Xerx, spreading his hands,
"I would see little purpose for that sort of contact
beyond the obvious gratification." Then he leaned
forward. "Who told you about this
"technique"'?"
"No one," said Riker quickly. "I just ... just
heard it around."
"Well, it sounds to me as if such actions would
be extremely pleasurable, but other than that, I
wouldn't attach much psychological value
to them."
Riker sat back in his chair, and then a slow
grin spread across his face.
"Lieutenant, is there something you'd care
to discuss with me?"
"No," replied Riker, unable to wipe the
smile off his face. "No, nothing at all. I
just find the entire thing ... funny."
"I see."
At that moment, Riker's communicator
beeped. He was mildly startled. Whereas the
page was certainly common enough on board a ship,
here in the more leisurely surroundings of Betazed,
it was extremely unusual. So much so, in
fact, that Riker had a dim sense of worry
even as he reached up to tap it. "Riker here."
"Lieutenant, this is Tang," came the
sergeant's voice.
"What is it, T--"
Tang didn't even give Riker a chance
to get out the entire question. "Planetary sensors
detect incoming ship moving extremely quickly,
ignoring all attempts at hailing it. General
shape would indicate Sindareen origins."
Immediately Riker was on his feet. "Planetary
defense systems--"
"Too late, Lieutenant. These
Betazoids are so damn peaceful, they hardly have
anything anyway. And what they do have is too little,
too late."
Xerx was looking up at Riker with tremendous
worry reflected in his eyes, but Riker had no
time to try to quell fears. "Scramble the
squad."
"Already done."
"And track the vessel's likely destination,
based on trajectory."
"Already done, sir. Our calculations have them
making planetfall right in the heart of this city."
Riker was ecstatic. "Right where we'll be
waiting for them. Their overconfidence is their first and
last mistake. I'll be right there. Riker out."
All in the caf@e were now looking at Riker with
tremendous worry on their faces.
Even though no one was saying anything, he could almost
sense the anxiety level skyrocketing. He
started to head for the door, but for a moment, Xerx
stopped him.
"An open area makes them easy targets,"
said Xerx. "But densely populated as we are
here, means that you have to worry about innocents.
Don't let your determination to capture your
targets be your first and last mistake."
Riker regarded him for a moment, then nodded
briefly.
"Understood," he said, and then ran out of the
caf@e.
CHAPTER 23
Deanna and Chandra stared at the painting. They
had stared at this particular painting once a week,
every week, for the last ten years. Every time they did,
they saw something new ... although whether it was something
new in the painting or in themselves, neither of them could have
said for sure.
Deanna crisscrossed her arms and ran her
hands up and down as if to shake off a chill.
Chandra noticed the gesture and said, "Are you
okay?"
"I'm fine. I just ..."
Her voice trailed off, and gently Chandra
said, "It's that Riker, isn't it? The one from the
wedding."
Deanna nodded hesitantly.
Chandra turned away from the painting. "What is
it about him, anyway?"
"I don't know. He's not at all like any
of the men I ... I mean, he's so
un-intellectual."
"You mean he's stupid?"
"No! No, not at all. He's very bright. Very
quick. Very intelligent, really. He's just so ..."
She tried to think of the best way to put it. "So
primal. His actions seem governed as much
by instinct as any sort of rational thought."
"What's wrong with that? There are few things in the
world more natural than instinct. When I met
Teb," Chandra continued, referring to her new
husband, "there was a sort of instinctive
attraction."
"But at least you two were compatible. Riker and
I, we're ..."
"You're what?"
Deanna shivered slightly again. "Every single
bit of rational thought tells me that Will Riker is
completely wrong for me."
"And your irrational thought?"
"My irrational thought," she admitted,
"makes my skin tingle."
"Well!" Chandra smirked. "And what does
your mother say to that?"
"Ohhhh, don't ask. You think I have
trepidation about him? He's not at all the type
of man my mother wants me with. No social
standing. No ties to Betazed or Betazoid
society. No ..."
And suddenly her voice trailed off, and her
dark eyes went wide. Her face took on the
color of paste.
"Deanna," said Chandra in alarm. "What's
the matter with ...?"
Then she sensed it, too. "Oh, Gods," she
muttered.
Deanna grabbed her arm and grated, "Come
on! Let's get out of here! Before we--"
Other Betazoids were reacting as well. They
were already in motion in response to the strong and
frightened thoughts that were affecting the crowd to various
degrees.
But their actions weren't fast enough.
All over the gallery, doors burst inward.
At one end, a powerful ray blast blew in a
chunk of the wall. The hurtling fragments
flattened a man, pinning him writhing on the
&
nbsp; ground.
Sindareen warriors entered, dressed in
glittering armor, cradling pulse blasters under
their arms. One of them fired in the air, and the
deafening noise froze a number of people in their
tracks.
Deanna and Chandra spun and dashed toward one
exit that remained clear. They were several steps
short of it when it slid open, and the open space
seemed to be completely filled with a massive and
extremely formidable-looking Sindareen.
His lips pulled back, and his entire face was
cast in a death's-head glow. He leveled his
weapon at the two women and said, in a
deceptively pleasant voice, "Step
back."
Chandra whimpered slightly as Deanna guided
her back. In a low voice Deanna advised,
"Don't show them you're afraid." She
was no less frightened, but she found it easier
to ignore her fear by focusing on calming her friend.
She sensed the terror running rampant through the
mind of her friend. Newly married, her main concern
was that she was never going to see her husband again.
Deanna, for her part, hadn't taken it quite that far;
she hadn't really accepted the notion that she might
die here, pointlessly and unexpectedly. Her
main concern was survival.
As the Sindareen prodded and herded the
thirty-plus Betazoids together into a small
circle in the middle of the room, Deanna's
mind was racing with thoughts of rescue. She was
certain that the Sindareen's presence here could not
possibly have gone undetected. She knew that,
even now, steps were certainly being taken to rescue
them.
And somehow, beyond any shadow of doubt, she knew
that it would be Lt. William t. Riker who would
be spearheading that rescue operation. For no rational
reason, she derived great comfort from that, and a
certainty that everything would work out.
She felt that way up to the point where the barrel
of one of the Sindareen blasters was shoved into her
mouth.
"What have we got?"
Riker was standing next to Tang, about a hundred
yards away from the art building. Betazoids were
trying to get near, sensing as one the terror
emanating from the building and instinctively wanting
to help and soothe those who were trapped within. But
Tang had ordered his people to keep everyone back, and
they were busy shooing the concerned citizens away from
the immediate area. Tang was stroking his perpetually
grizzled chin.