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|        rUNNING oN aN aMIGA 4ooo wITH a cYBERSTORM o6o/5o mHZ/22 mB!        |
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 ________ |   -·>nO nEW uSER pASSWORD aND/oR sYSTEM pASSWORd!<·-   | ________
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          :        uPLOADEd bY UFOk             oN nODE #01        :
          .   tIME aND dATE oF tHE uPLOAD: 23:47:43 , 08-16-1996   .
 
å
@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ           -+* STARTREK-STORY *+-
              Out of Alignment
        written by Christine Wirick
@END_FILE_ID.DIZ

     Chapter One:

     "You are correct, Counselor," Doctor Selar said matter-of-
factly, snapping her medical tricorder shut, "you are with child." 
After Beverly Crusher had transferred over to the new Nova-class
Stargazer to become CMO under Captain Picard once again, Selar
had been promoted to the position on the Enterprise-E.
     Deanna Troi Rozhenko beamed at her Vulcan doctor,
wishing the other woman would feel as joyous about the news as
she did.  She and her husband, Worf, the Enterprise-E's second
officer, had been trying to get pregnant for the past six months. 
Now it was finally reality.  They were going to have a baby!
     "Thank you, doctor,"  Troi replied.  "How far along am I?"
     "Nine weeks.  Today being stardate 49469, that places your
due date at roughly stardate 50319.  Would you like to know the
sex of your baby?"
     Deanna nearly said yes before stopping herself.  "Maybe I
better think about it for a while, discuss it with Worf."
     "As you wish.  Be sure to schedule monthly check ups with
me and contact me immediately should any problem arise."
     "I will do that."  Deanna stepped off the biobed.
     "And Counselor, do not heed such nonsensical Human
clich s as 'eating for two.'  Logically, the embryo inside you is far
smaller and requires far less nutrients than the mother.  It is
fortunate that our replicators will only provide nutritional foods."
     "I'll remember that," Deanna replied, her thoughts already
wandering to the moment she would tell her husband the news. 
How would he react now that their plan for a baby was no longer
fantasy, but very real?  As she ventured out of sickbay and down
the corridor, onto a turbolift, and toward their quarters, Deanna
barely noticed her surroundings.  Instead, she was planning the
perfect evening, what she would wear, what she would serve for
dinner, the exact moment she would tell Worf he was going to be a
father.
     Suddenly, she felt queasy and had to pause for a long
moment to lean against the corridor wall.  Why was she so nervous
about telling her husband such great news?  It's my overactive
hormones kicking in, she realized.  Oh, I wish Beverly were still on
board!
     Her best friend, Dr. Beverly Crusher, had disembarked the
Enterprise-E nearly three months ago to join Captain Jean-Luc
Picard as his chief medical officer aboard the new Stargazer.  Last
she heard, they were in the Neibolu Sector, about seventy-five
light years away, investigating what might possibly be a wormhole.
     Deanna stepped into their quarters and was greeted by
Alexander.  "You're done with school already?"
     "It's past fifteen hundred hours," the twelve-year old boy
replied.
     "I did not realize it was that late."  She wandered around
the living room aimlessly, still caught up in her revere.  Stopping,
she suddenly realized that Alexander was staring at her quizzically. 
"Alexander, could you do me a favor?  Would you eat early
tonight?  I'd like to have a special dinner with your father."
     "Sure," the boy replied without hesitation.  He smiled,
absolutely beaming at her, and Deanna wondered if he didn't have
at least some idea as to what was going on.  "Would you like any
help setting things up?"
     "I think that would be nice.  Thank you."

     Some hours later as Deanna and Alexander were finishing
a romantic setting with flowers and candles, the door swished open
to admit Worf.  Alexander rushed toward his bedroom, pausing
only briefly at the door to give his Sok'cheim a confident smile
before leaving them alone.
     "What is this?" her Klingon husband asked in a tone that
really asked what the occasion was.
     Deanna lifted the lid to the main course and toying with
him said, "Andorian fowl with rallini wine sauce and noodles." 
She held out her hand.  "Come, join me."
     Worf walked over to the small table and helped his wife
into her chair before sitting down himself.  "It smells delicious."
     Deanna served out their meals before asking Worf how his
day went.
     "Ensign Nagyua was late for his shift for the third time this
week.  We will never finish our monthly security check at this
rate."  
     "What does the captain have to say about his tardiness?"
     "Riker is too easy on the boy."  Worf clenched his fist,
barely resisting the urge to pound it on the table.  "Enough about
my day.  I have forgotten to ask you about yours."
     "It was fairly routine, really.  I counseled a few patients,
took a long leisurely lunch, and then I stopped in to see Dr. Selar." 
Deanna tried to sound casual, like it was all part of a normal day. 
To her delight, Worf took a beat before catching on.
     "Dr. Selar--is anything wrong?"
     "No, not really.  You'll just have to pamper me for nine,
maybe ten months."
     Her husband dropped his fork onto his plate, and for a long
moment, he and Deanna just stared at each other.  Barely above a
whisper, Worf asked, "A baby?"  She nodded, and reaching out to
one another, they clasped hands.
         ***

     Their lovemaking had been very intense, while at the same
time gentle and caring.  They parted, both out of breath.  Worf
took in his wife's beauty in the glow of the dim light.  He knew
how much she wanted a baby, and she had even convinced him
that he wanted one, too.  Yet now that one was on the way, he
couldn't quench the fear that he would fail at the challenge. 
Raising Alexander had been difficult enough and his son had been
well beyond the baby stage when the boy came to live with him.
     "What are you thinking?" Deanna asked in a lilting voice.
     "That this baby will be the greatest challenge I have ever
faced."  He grasped her hand firmly.  "We shall face that challenge
together."  Worf returned her warm embrace, but inwardly, he
feared he could not live up to his promise no matter how strong his
conviction.
         ***

     "Data, I don't think we're going to find anything," Geordi
La Forge said as he picked up yet another small piece of the
Marauder to scan.  
     They had been working in Docking Bay Three since the
Alpha shift began.  Before them lay  the flotsam of the Ferengi
Marauder they had encountered several days ago.  Thus far, they
had been unable to determine the cause of its destruction. 
Lieutenant Reginald Barclay had joined them about an hour ago
and was currently gathering up more pieces for the next scanning
phase.
     "Our orders are to scan every single piece of the debris for
traces of the explosive agent," the first officer replied.  For a
moment, La Forge thought that his friend sounded like his old self,
before the emotions chip.  Then Data turned and sighed,
"However, I am growing as tired of this as you are.  I am sure
Captain Riker would not object if we take a short recess."
     Without any objection, Geordi shut down the machine and
tapped his commbadge.  "La Forge to the captain."
     "Riker here," the captain replied.
     Barclay approached them at that moment with a load of
heavy metal fragments on top of an antigrav unit.  He set them
down beside the machine La Forge had just turned off and looked
toward them questioningly.
     "We've nearly finished the metallurgy and no luck yet,"
Geordi continued.  "Data and I were wondering if we couldn't take
a short break before finishing these tests."
     "You've earned it.  Spend a while in Ten-Forward, if you'd
like.  In thirty minutes, I want to see both of you in the observation
lounge."
     "Aye sir," the chief engineer replied. "La Forge out."
     "I'll continue sorting through the unscanned fragments,"
Barclay volunteered.  Geordi's assistant had come a long way
during the years they had worked together.  Barclay no longer felt
intimidated by those he worked with.
     "Thanks, Reg."
           ***

     When Data and La Forge entered the observation lounge,
they found Captain Riker, Worf, Troi, Dr. Selar, and the ops
officer, Lieutenant Corinne Berlitz, already there.  After they sat
down, the captain addressed the group.
     "Now that we're all here," Riker said, "I have news from
Starfleet about the Stargazer."  Tension mounted around the room
as everyone feared for their former captain and chief medical
officer.  Only Dr. Selar remained calm.  "The ship and her crew
have disappeared somewhere in the Neibolu Sector."
     "They were investigating a wormhole, weren't they?"
Geordi asked.
     Riker nodded.  "In the last message received from Captain
Picard nearly two days ago, he spoke about moving in closer to the
anomaly.  We must consider the possibility that the Stargazer may
be trapped inside the anomaly."
     "If we are to believe that they are trapped inside this
anomaly," Berlitz began, "then shouldn't we consider the
possibility that they have encountered something other than a
wormhole?  Or at the very least, a wormhole very different from
any ever recorded by Starfleet?"  She had a medium build with
long brunette hair that she kept braided.
     "Maybe a black hole of some kind," Geordi offered
gloomily.
     Data added, "Possibly it is indeed a wormhole and has
collapsed around the Stargazer.  In either case, it would be highly
unlikely that the Stargazer would ever be recovered."
     Suddenly, Deanna burst into tears and her husband placed
his arms around her to comfort her.  "I'm sorry," she told everyone. 
"It's just that I didn't even get a chance to tell Beverly--" she
fought
to catch her breath-- "I'm pregnant."
     At one time, Riker had been extremely jealous of Worf and 
Deanna's relationship.  Now, although he faltered a bit, he
appeared genuinely happy for them.  "Congratulations on your
pregnancy," he said.  "Your reaction to the news of the Stargazer's
disappearance is perfectly understandable."  He allowed the
counselor a minute to calm down before he continued, again
addressing the group.  "The Lexington has been redirected to
investigate.  I'm afraid there's really nothing we can do all the way
out here.  We've been ordered to drop the remains of the Ferengi
Marauder off at Starbase Seventeen and head out to Apollo IX to
pick up a group of colonists for transport to Earth."
     "Then we are expected to conclude our tests by the time we
reach the starbase?" Data questioned.
     "Do what you can."  Riker turned toward his chief medical
officer.  "Dr. Selar, many people aboard this ship also worked
under the command of Captain Picard.  They may need help
adjusting to the news of their disappearance.  Normally, I would
ask Counselor Troi to handle this responsibility--"
     "I can handle it," Deanna said with conviction.
     "Logic would dictate," Dr. Selar began, "given your
closeness to Captain Picard and Dr. Crusher and your empathic
ability, that handling the crew's emotions would be too difficult for
you at this time.  I am the next logical choice.  Their feelings
would not govern my actions." 
     Worf placed his hand gently on his wife's shoulder. 
"Deanna, I have never objected to your continuing on as counselor
of the Enterprise, but I really think it would be best if you allowed
Doctor Selar to handle this specific situation."
     "You mean because I'm pregnant!" Deanna snapped.  She
brought her hands to her face and sighed deeply.  "I'm sorry.  I
shouldn't have snapped at you."  She looked at the group.  "My
apologies. Perhaps you're right.  I'll decline my responsibilities as
counselor to Dr. Selar in this matter."  
     "I shall carry out this order to the best of my ability," Dr.
Selar said.
     The counselor chuckled with obvious sarcasm, but said no
more.
     "Good," Riker said.  "Then you're all dismissed."
     As they were exiting the lounge, Berlitz approached
Deanna.  "Counselor, I remember how much you helped me when
I was pregnant with my son.  It wasn't easy facing the idea of
raising a child without a father--and I'd just like you to know that
if
there's anyway I can return the favor--"
     "Thank you, Corey," Troi replied, "but I really don't need
any help from you.  I have a husband."  She walked away, but
Worf lagged behind.
     "I am sorry for my wife's rudeness," the Klingon said.  "If
she were not dealing with such an incredible loss--well, I am sure
she's not thinking clearly."
     "No need to apologize, Commander.  I understand fully." 
Corinne forced a smile before returning to her console at ops.

     Chapter Two:

     During the next few weeks, Deanna spent much of her time
sick and had to cancel many of her appointments.  She had to
admit, even to herself, that she was now grateful that Dr. Selar was
handling most of their crewmates' concerns about the fate of the
Stargazer.  Deanna herself tried desperately to cling to some hope
that their sister ship would be found, her crew alive and well.  But
each day passed with no further word about the fate of the
Stargazer.  
     Worried about his wife's well-being, Worf pampered her
and made sure that she visited Dr. Selar regularly.  He brought her
breakfast in bed every morning and had his shifts scheduled so he
would always be home in time for dinner to cater to her every
need. Along with Alexander's help, he cleaned their quarters,
making sure there was nothing left for Deanna to do.  Despite the
Vulcan doctor's reassurances that the counselor was experiencing a
normal pregnancy, Worf continued to worry needlessly about her.
     The Enterprise transported the colonists from Apollo IX to
Earth with no more serious incidents than a brawl among several
of the colonists in Ten Forward.  After a brief stay at Earth, the
Enterprise  headed out for more space exploration.
     Worf didn't begin to relax about his wife's condition until
she entered her fifth month and finally, feeling well, began
enjoying her pregnancy.  For the first time since learning she was
pregnant, she accompanied her husband to Captain Riker's weekly
poker game.  Lieutenant Barclay was already sitting at the poker
table with Will.
     "It's good to see you, Deanna," Will said, a look of pleasant
surprise on his face as she and Worf sat down.  "I trust you're
feeling better."  
     Deanna smiled at him and said, "Much.  I have a feeling
that my pregnancy will go smoothly from here on."  She glanced at
Barclay.  "It's good to see you, Reg.  I didn't know that you enjoyed
playing poker."
     "There are many habits that I have acquired," the lieutenant
replied, "that I never felt comfortable with before a wonderful
counselor helped me overcome my weaknesses."
     There was a time when Deanna would have taken such a
comment as a come-on, but after years of struggling with shyness,
Barclay had finally overcome, for the most part, his addiction to
holodeck programming--and all the fantasies that went along with
them.  "It would never have happened if you hadn't been such a
willing patient."
     "I'm glad you're feeling better, Deanna," Riker said.  "Now
maybe my chief of security won't be so distracted during his shifts
anymore."
     "Have I not performed my duties adequately, sir?" Worf
asked, worried.  "I have always strived to maintain higher
standards than what is asked of me."
     "I know, I know.  I was only joking."  This gained a hearty
laugh from the counselor, and Worf turned toward her to give her
hand a loving squeeze.  "I think," Riker added, unsure.
     The door swished open to admit Commanders Data and
Geordi La Forge.  "Ah Deanna," the android said, "marvelous to
see that you are feeling better.  You look absolutely radiant."  They
walked around to the other side of the table to sit across from
Deanna and Worf.
     "I was just telling the captain that I feel better than all
right. 
I'm rather looking forward to motherhood."
     "And you Worf, are you now looking forward to fatherhood
as well?"
     Taken aback by the question, the Klingon remained
awkwardly silent for a long moment, too long he feared by the odd
looks he received from the group.  "Of course," he finally replied,
placing his arm around his wife.  "I welcome the challenge.  I
never had the opportunity to oversee Alexander's developments
through infancy and I look forward to the experience with my
second child."
     "Even diaper changing?" Riker said jokingly.
     "Can't say that I envy you," Geordi added.
     The captain began dealing out the first hand and the
conversation turned to the game.  Barclay proved to have learned
to bluff almost as well as the captain and the majority of the pots
were fairly evenly divided between them.
     Midway through the game, Riker was paged by Lieutenant
Watson, who was currently on command duty.  "Captain, you have
a priority one message coming in from Starfleet."
     "Thank you, Mr. Watson," Riker replied.  "I'll take it in my
quarters."  Before he had the chance to issue the order, everyone
around the table was standing and exiting the captain's quarters. 
Riker stood and walked over to his console.  After Riker gave the
computer his clearance, Admiral Wilson appeared on the tiny
viewscreen.
     "Admiral, what's going on?"
     "We've discovered some new evidence that may shed some
light about the debris from the Ferengi Marauder you found a few
months ago.  Debris from another ship of an unknown make was
found by the Lexington only five light years away from where you
encountered the Marauder.  The difference in this case is that this
time, the Lexington crew saw the anomaly that destroyed this ship
in action as it spit out chunks of the ship."
         ***

     "How are you, Little One," Lwaxana Troi said on her
daughter's private viewscreen.  
     Deanna had had barely enough time to order a hot
chocolate from the replicator before receiving her mother's page. 
Sitting down in her desk chair, she smiled warmly and replied,
"I'm fine, Mother."
     "She is better," Worf added from several feet behind her.    
     "Hello Worf," the full-Betazoid said cheerfully.  She had
been overly polite (even to Worf) and attentive to Deanna, calling
nearly every week since learning that her daughter was pregnant. 
For years, Lwaxana had been begging her daughter to get married
and make her a grandmother.  Now Lwaxana wasn't about to waste
any time before stepping into the role.  
     "The baby is getting very strong," Deanna continued.  "It
enjoys kicking, rolling...keeping me awake at night."
     "Yes," the security chief agreed.  "It makes it difficult for
me to stay awake while on duty--but I would not trade a minute of
it."
     "Really, Deanna, Worf, must you refer to the baby as an
'it?'  Surely that doctor of yours could tell you whether it is a boy
or
a girl."
     "Doctor Selar knows the sex of the baby, but Worf and I
have decided we'd rather be surprised when he or she arrives."
     Lwaxana sighed heavily, not protesting any further, but
conveying her feelings with the suspicious look she fixed the
Klingon with.  "If that's what you really want...So how's Alexander
doing?"
     "He's becoming quite a scholar," Deanna replied, feeling a
motherly pride about the boy.  "He's excelling in all subjects,
especially math, and you remember the trouble we used to have
getting him to do schoolwork."
     "And how does he feel about the baby?"
     "I actually think he's as excited as Worf and I are."
     "Ah...our little warrior's growing up."
     "Too fast," Worf grumbled almost so the women couldn't
hear.
     "Now, when did that happen?"  Both women chuckled. 
"Thanks for calling, Mother," Deanna said, trying to suppress a
yawn, "but if you don't mind, I'm really tired now and need to get
some sleep before the little one decides to awaken."
     "Take care of yourself, dear," Lwaxana said and she even
added, "You too, Worf," before severing the connection.
         ***

     As he left his quarters and headed for the nearest turbolift,
Riker ordered his first officer to join him on the bridge.  The first
officer arrived only seconds after the captain and they sat in their
respective chairs at the command center.
     "I just finished speaking with Admiral Wilson," Riker said
loud enough for everyone on the bridge to hear.  "We have orders
to abandon our current mission and change course for sector zero-
two-three.  Debris from another ship has been found in that area. 
The Lexington already transported all the debris to Starbase
Seventeen.  Our job is to travel to the exact location it was found
and search the area for the slightest anomaly.
     "What did the Lexington find out, sir?"  Lieutenant Berlitz
asked, turning at her console.
     "Their findings were inconclusive.  That's why Admiral
Wilson wants to send a Nova-class starship in to investigate." 
Riker turned to Data.  "I'd like to speak with you privately in my
ready room."  He stood and his first officer followed him into his
room off the main bridge.
     After they'd both taken seats, Riker said, "There's more
information about this ship the Lexington found that, for now, is to
remain classified.  Admiral Wilson has authorized that I tell you,
but you must not reveal any of this to others."
     "Understood," Data said, nodding.
     "We don't have absolute proof, but apparently, the ship was
destroyed when it attempted to travel through a collapsing
wormhole.  Admiral Wilson downloaded the reports on the
wormhole written by the Lexington's science officer to me.  The
debris was of an unknown make.  The aliens who constructed it,
though, were more advanced in some ways than us.  There is
evidence that their ship contained a device that could split a
timeline."
     "Excuse me, sir, 'split a timeline'?"
     "I know it probably sounds absurd by our standards, but it
is quite possible that these people knew how to not only look into
the future, but into an alternate future as well.  They must have
used this temporal technology to decide what courses to take in
their lives to ensure the best outcomes."
     "Intriguing.  Life would no longer be a gamble.  In a way,
that is very sad."  Riker was almost sure the android was going to
break into tears.  "No one should know too much about their own
destiny.  That would take the fun, the spontaneity, the essence out
of living."
     The captain raised a hand before the android decided to go
on with his prattle.  "I couldn't agree with you more, Data.  What
joy is there in life without a certain risk?"  Not expecting an
answer, Riker gestured toward the door--before Data could deliver
one.
     The two men exited the ready room, and as he walked back
to his command chair, Riker ordered, "Ensign Mylanos, change
our course for sector zero-two-three."
     "Aye, sir," the young man at the helm replied and a
moment later, "Course laid in."
     "Engage!"

     Chapter Three:

     "Captain, we're entering sector zero-two-three now,"
Berlitz said three days later.  "We'll arrive at the coordinates of
the
debris in three and a half minutes.  Our star maps indicate that the
closest star is three-quarters of a light year away from the
anomaly--four planets, none Class-M or showing any signs of life."
     "Thank you, lieutenant," Riker replied from his command
chair.  "Get within ten-thousand kilometers of the anomaly and
come to an all-stop."
     "Aye, sir."
     After the ship came to a complete stop, Berlitz said,
"Sensors are picking up a discrepancy in a small isolated area just
ahead."
     "On screen," Riker ordered.  
     Berlitz complied.  The screen filled with an image of
space--no visible anomaly appeared.  Riker stared at the image for
a long moment, half-expecting something to present itself.  The
officers at conn turned to stare expectantly at him.  They were
awaiting his orders. 
      "Mr. Worf," he finally said,  "I want you to launch two
probes, one heading zero-four-five-mark-zero, the other one-eight-
zero-mark-zero."
     "Aye, sir.  Launching first probe," the Klingon replied as he
worked the console.  A second later, they watched the probe shoot
across the viewscreen.  "Probe successfully launched. . .launching
second probe."  The second probe shot across the screen in the
opposite direction of the first.
     After the second probe vanished from the viewscreen,
Riker said, "I'll be in my ready room," and stood up, leaving the
bridge.
         ***

     The first probe came back two hours later, indicating that
they were nearby a rather small collapsed wormhole.  The
information on the probe showed that the wormhole had only been
about five meters in diameter.  Why then had a craft roughly the
size of the Enterprise attempted to enter it?  And even more
puzzling, how could the collapse of such a small wormhole cause
the implosion of a starship?
      The second probe returned thirty minutes after the first,
rife with data about another, unexpected, anomaly about two light
years from their present location.  They were now faced with the
problem of deciphering it.
     Data brought the information up on the viewscreen at the
science station, while Riker peered over his shoulder.  "Can you
make any sense of it?" the captain asked, trying not to sound
impatient.
     "It is another wormhole of some kind,"  the android
answered after several seconds of racing his fingers across the
console and watching the screen. "It is much larger, approximately
eight hundred and thirty kilometers in diameter.  But it is unlike
any anomaly Starfleet has ever encountered.  It consists mostly of
linked neutrino particles."
     "But where does it lead to?"
     Data looked away from the screen, fixing the captain with
an apologetic expression.  "I do not yet know, sir."  He returned to
his study.  "I will continue analyzing the data from the probe.  I
will let you know as soon as I learn something of significance--" he
glanced at Riker again, "--sir."
     Riker grinned apologetically in sudden realization.  "In
other words, stop hovering over your shoulder like an expectant
parent."
     "Yes, captain," the android replied, furrowing his brow.  "It
does make me a little nervous.  I can work at top speed without
anyone hovering over me."
     "Understood."  Riker moved away from his first officer to
stand between Mylanos and Berlitz and to stare at the viewscreen. 
The black space hid the anomaly that had snatched and spit out the
alien ship like so much chewed fat.
     "Sir," Berlitz asked, swiveling in her chair, "is anything
wrong?"
     "No, I just hate waiting."
         ***

     Inside her quarters, Troi paced nervously like a pent-up
house cat.  Occasionally, she paused to stare out the view window
at the darkness she knew contained a wormhole, although it could
not be seen by the naked eye.  She felt the baby stirring inside her,
equally agitated.  She knew something wasn't right here.  If only
she could figure it out!
     "Are you sensing anything?" Worf asked her, obviously
trying to remain calm himself.  He was sitting on the sofa after
having just completed his shift twenty minutes ago.  They were
now alone, since Alexander had gone to bed.
     "I'm not sure what it is," she replied, rubbing her belly to
calm her child.  "Just an overwhelming agitation over even being
within ten thousand kilometers of the wormhole.  Something isn't
right about it.  I know that probably sounds absurd given the
number of anomalies we've encountered in the past, but I haven't
felt this out of control since the entities that stripped me of my
empathic abilities."
     "Maybe if you tried to rest."  Worf stood and gently placed
his arms around his wife, getting her to finally stop her pacing. 
She suddenly realized that she needed someone's reassuring touch
every bit as much as her unborn baby.
     "I am tired, but. . .how can I relax knowing there is
something, or someone out there.  I don't even know if they're in
trouble, or in pain.  All I sense is total confusion.  It's
frustrating!"
     "I wi'll get you a hot chocolate.  You just lie down and
relax and I will bring it to you.  Then after you finish drinking it,
I
will give you a massage."
     "Thanks.  You're so wonderful to me," she said, kissing him
before sauntering off into their bedroom.  After she slipped into
her nightgown and crawled under the covers, she looked out the
window and shivered.  Suddenly, at that moment as she stared into
the darkness of space, she thought about Beverly and broke into
tears.
     "Deanna," her husband said, concerned as he entered with
her hot chocolate.  "What is it?  Should I page Dr. Selar?"
     "No.  Just hold me, please."  
     She held her arms out pleadingly to him.  He set the drink
on the end table and climbed into bed with his wife.  He wrapped
his arms around her and for a long moment, neither spoke.
     "I wanted to ask Beverly to be our baby's godmother,"
Deanna told him.  "I know I have you and Alexander and our other
friend, but Beverly's absence sometimes makes me feel so utterly
alone."
     "Yes.  I understand how you feel," Worf responded as he
thought about Captain Picard as well.
     She continued to stare out the window, but she didn't see
the blackness.  Instead, she remembered all the times she'd spent
with her good friend Beverly, exercising, treating patients, talking.
. .  Not even chocolate could help her relax at that moment.
         ***

     "Captain," his first officer said, stepping into Riker's ready
room.  Riker looked away from the small viewscreen he'd been
working from and would have sworn he could see exhaustion on
his first officer's face.  If it weren't for the fact that the android
required no sleep, Riker would have ordered him to take a nap.  "I
believe I have extrapolated all possible data from the probe.  I
have found no evidence that links the wormhole to the destruction
of the unknown alien starship.  Which leads me to conclude, that
some other force, possibly even purposely, destroyed that craft. 
Unfortunately, the nature of the wormhole still remains a mystery."
     No, not exhaustion, Riker realized.  Worry, concern.  "How
would you suggest we proceed?"  He suppressed a yawn,
discovering that he was actually the one getting tired.  How many
hours straight had he been on duty?
     "The next logical step would be to travel to the second
wormhole and send someone through it."
     "Someone!  Who do you have in mind?"
     "I volunteer myself, sir."
     "Data, give me one good reason why I should allow you to
risk your life.  Neither our ship, nor its crew is in danger as long
as
we maintain a distance of at least ten thousand kilometers from the
wormhole."
     "But were we not ordered by Admiral Wilson to discover
the nature of this wormhole by any means necessary?"  Riker hated
it when Data spoke rhetorically.  "The probes were returned to us
undamaged."
     "But the alien craft was destroyed by one of these
anomalies and most likely so was the Stargazer.  What are the
odds that the larger wormhole will collapse if someone attempts to
enter it?"
     "Probability, fifty percent," Data admitted glumly.
     "Only fifty percent," Riker said with sarcasm.
     "Might I suggest, sir, that it may not have been a natural
phenomenon that caused the wormhole to collapse and thus the
destruction of those ships, but rather it could have been another
ship or fleet of ships.  Maybe they felt threatened that someone had
discovered their quick mode of travel.  I have found no evidence
that supports the possibility that the third wormhole is volatile. 
Based on that evidence, we must assume that no harm would come
to me if I were to enter the wormhole."  
     "We don't even know for sure that it is a stable wormhole."
     "This end of the wormhole has remained at the same
location, since it was discovered a week ago."  Data paused and
Riker suspected that he was thinking about another wormhole that
they had encountered several years ago.  This wormhole had been
stable on one end and as jumpy as a bug in a frying pan on the
other end.  The android's brow creased in contemplation.  "It is
possible that we are encountering another wormhole like the
Barzon wormhole.  If so, I will most likely have enough
opportunity to reenter the wormhole before it collapses."  Data
pressed his hands on the captain's desk and leaned forward. 
"Captain, I am willing to take that risk.  I am the best choice for
this mission, because I would remember everything I see down to
the most minuscule detail."
     Riker sighed heavily and leaned back against his chair. 
"All right.  But I want every precaution to be taken before you
enter this wormhole.  Let's make sure we can maintain audio
contact for as long as possible.  We'll set launch for oh-nine
hundred hours.  Right now, I think I better get to bed before I fall
asleep at my desk."
     His first officer chuckled.  "That would be most advisable,
sir."

     Chapter Four:

     The Enterprise arrived at the coordinates of the large
wormhole only minutes before Data's scheduled trip through the
anomaly.  Everyone aboard the ship knew what Data was about to
attempt, and those crew members he passed by on his way to the
shuttlebay favored him with well wishes, though some showed
incredulity that he would attempt a mission with such low odds and
a risk he was not ordered to take.
     As he stepped inside the shuttlebay, the technician told him,
"Shuttlecraft five is up to specifications and ready to launch."
     "Thank you, Ensign," the android replied before walking to
the shuttle and climbing inside.  He powered her up and ran a
routine diagnostics of the onboard systems.  "Data to bridge," he
said, tapping his commbadge.  "I am inside Shuttlecraft Five and am
awaiting clearance."
     "Shuttlecraft Five," came Lieutenant Berlitz over the comm,
"you are clear for launching."
     "Releasing locking clamps," the technician on duty in the
main shuttlebay told Commander Data.
     "Acknowledged," the android replied.  He tapped in the
coordinates for the wormhole and watched as both shuttlebay doors
opened.  An annular forcefield, maintained in the shuttlebay,
negated the need to depressurize the bay.  While this type of
forcefield enabled a small craft to pass through it, it also allowed
for
crew members to remain in the shuttlebay while the doors were
open.  
     "Engaging Shuttlecraft Five now," Data reported per
protocol.  Slowly, he glided the craft through the door and as that
door closed, the second door opened.  "Shuttlecraft has cleared
shuttlebay doors."  As the shuttlecraft ventured out into space, the
android increased its speed, heading for the center of the wormhole. 
"Sensors indicate that I am nearing the eye of the wormhole."
     From the bridge, Riker and his bridge crew watched on the
large viewscreen as Data's shuttlecraft entered the wormhole and
disappeared.  For a brief moment that felt like eternity, the captain
waited silently to hear from his officer.
     "Data to Enterprise," came the crystal-clear sound of the
android's voice.
     "Acknowledged," Riker replied, letting out his breath. 
"What is your status."
     "Shields are holding, and the wormhole shows no signs of
collapsing.  The dimension of the wormhole appears exactly as the
probe reported.   I am proceeding at quarter impulse speed.  There
are several pockets throughout the walls of the wormhole, varying
in size.  However, none thusfar have been large enough to permit
passage of this shuttlecraft."
     "Data, can you see the other end yet?"
     "No, Captain.  I have traveled ten thousand kilometers
farther than the previously longest wormhole discovered."  After a
moment, he said, "I can now see an opening just ahead,
approximately eight hundred and thirty kilometers wide."
     "Exactly the same width as the other end?" Riker questioned
with surprise.
     "Yes," his first officer responded.
     "Sir," Berlitz said, sounding alarmed.  She turned to face the
captain.  "Sensors indicate that Commander Data's shuttlecraft is
growing closer to us."
     Barely had she spoken before the shuttlecraft exited the
wormhole--and came to a full stop only kilometers away from the
Enterprise!
     Staring in shock at the viewscreen, no one spoke for a long
moment.  Riker glanced back at his security chief for his reaction. 
Worf gazed back at him, mirroring his astonishment.  
     "Data, are you all right?" the captain finally asked, looking
back at the viewscreen.
     "I am fine," the android replied.  "This wormhole is
obviously a loop of some kind, with only one entryway.  Should I
reenter it for further analysis?"
     "No.  Bring the shuttlecraft in and prepare for a meeting of
all senior officers in fifteen minutes.  Riker out."
         ***  
     
     Dr. Selar was the last of the senior officers to arrive, having
been in the middle of an emergency medical procedure when the
captain had called the meeting.  She sauntered in with the ease that
only a Vulcan could manage and took her place beside the
counselor, who in contrast looked close to tears.
     "My apologies for the delay, Captain," Selar said.
     "Understood," Riker replied with a nod.  He turned toward
his first officer.  "Mr. Data, what more can you tell us about this
wormhole?"
     "It is one-point-three times the size of the Zoranq wormhole,
previously the largest wormhole discovered by Starfleet.  This
wormhole contains three thousand, two hundred and eighty-three
pockets, each varying in size from eighty centimeters to nearly three
meters in width."
     Geordi whistled sharply.  "Boy, would I have loved to have
seen that!"
     Riker glanced at his chief engineer, but didn't reprimand his
outburst.  He shared Geordi's enthusiasm.  "Data, could you tell
what they were?"
     " If I were to theorize," Data began, " I would make the
assumption that each of these pockets are in fact smaller wormholes
within the larger one, leading to different points throughout this
galaxy."
     "Captain, I think we should send Commander Data back
inside the wormhole," Berlitz said.  "He could pilot one of the
smaller shuttlecrafts through one of the larger pockets.  It'd be a
tight fit, but if anyone could do it, Commander Data would be the
one."
     "Lieutenant, we have no way of knowing that one of these
pockets won't collapse.  After all, they are very much like the two
collapsed ones we've already discovered.  Data?"
     "Correct, sir," Data confirmed.  "I saw clear evidence that
these wormholes share the same properties.
     "But the crafts that attempted to pass through the wormholes
were much larger," Geordi La Forge said, coming to Corrine's
defense.
     "What about the Marauder?  Data, Geordi, would you
conclude that it was also destroyed by a collapsing wormhole?"
     "It is the most probable explanation," the android replied.
     "Yeah," La Forge concurred.  "The stress on the metal
fragments could have been the result of an implosion.
     "Then we have three imploding wormholes," Riker said
thoughtfully, rubbing at his beard.  "Data, your honest opinion,
could you safely pilot a type VI shuttlecraft through one of the
larger pockets?"
     "I would not advise it, sir," the android replied.  "If the
pathway narrows even slightly, I cannot guarantee that even I could
maneuver through it. From our data on the two collapsed
wormholes, the probability that one of these pockets would also
collapse is remarkably high.  Until we know more about them, I
would not suggest attempting to send anyone through.  I would
recommend that we send in another probe and set its course for one
of the pockets."  
     "I agree with Data," Geordi said.  "The wormhole itself may
be a loop, but there's a good chance that each of its pockets leads
somewhere else, perhaps in another quadrant. . .or even another
galaxy.."
     "If we could actually get through them," Worf interjected.
     "True; we haven't yet established that we can," La Forge
conceded.  Think about this, though:  If we can learn how to
manipulate these pockets, They could be a phenomenal discovery,
allowing us to explore places thousands of light years away and to
return to our own space at whim."
     "I can understand your enthusiasm, Mr. La Forge," Riker
said.   "Just don't allow it to cloud your judgment."
     "Yes, sir," Geordi replied, sounding embarrassed.  It was
difficult for him not to get excited whenever they encountered a
potential technological breakthrough.  It was that enthusiasm that
made him one of the top engineers in all of Starfleet.
     "Anyone else have any observations they'd like to add before
I make my decision?" Riker said, addressing the group.
     "There's something or someone inside that wormhole,"
Deanna said tensely.  She hesitated, wishing she hadn't gotten the
group's attention.  Worf clutched her hand. He did not often display
his affection in front of others, and knowing that made Deanna feel
better.  "I don't know what exactly, but it overwhelms me with
feelings of being lost....and alone."  She bowed her head.  "Afraid
even."  Her husband removed his grip on her hand to place his arm
around her shoulder.  "The odd part is that I'm not really sensing
any feeling from the wormhole itself.  It's more of a feeling coming
from within myself."  She tapped her chest for emphasis.
     "You don't think this could be dangerous to your unborn
baby?" the captain asked with concern.
     The expectant mother turned a bit pale.  "It is upsetting for
my baby as well, but I do not believe that the baby is in any physical
danger."
     "Nonetheless, I'd feel better if you allowed Dr. Selar to
thoroughly examine you."
     "As would I," Worf agreed.
     Deanna slowly nodded and stood to follow the doctor out. 
The Klingon looked at the captain pleadingly.  "I think we can
handle this without you, Worf.  You may accompany your wife to
sickbay."
     "Thank you, sir," the Klingon replied and hastily caught up
with the women.
     "Now back to the idea of the probe," Riker said,
straightening his tunic.  "I agree and even add that we might try
launching two more probes, this time directed at two pockets at
random.  Let's test the theory that each pocket leads to a different
point in the galaxy--and at the same time calculate the odds that
these pockets are structurally sound."
     "We're on top of it, Captain," La Forge said with
enthusiasm.  He looked toward Data, and the android nodded,
eagerness also on his face, and they left together.
     Within twenty minutes, the probes had been launched and
the bridge crew watched the viewscreen as the probes penetrated the
wormhole.  Now, all they could do was wait.  Again.
         ***

     Deanna's stay in sickbay was very brief.  Dr. Selar could
find nothing physically wrong with the baby or the mother and thus
prescribed only lots of rest and pampering.  More than willing to
oblige with the pampering, Worf thanked the doctor and then
escorted his wife to their quarters.
     After Deanna slipped into her nightgown, she lay on their
bed while her husband began massaging her all over, trying to drain
the tension from her body.  Even his loving kisses along her neck
and shoulder did not tear her gaze away from the viewport inside
their bedroom, and she noticed immediately when one of the probes
shot out from the wormhole and headed back toward the
Enterprise.  Several seconds later, it was pulled inward by a tractor
beam.
     "Worf," she said, jumping out of bed, "one of the probes
has returned.
     "Deanna, let Captain Riker and Data worry about it!  I have
never seen you this tense.  You must try to relax."
     For a long moment, she didn't reply, didn't even look away
from the probe.  Worf grew tense himself, actually becoming afraid
that the wormhole had almost an instinctual influence over his wife. 
But his rationale told him that it couldn't possibly be alive!
     "Intellectually, I know you're right," she said, finally turning
away.  "It's just that I don't know what's going on with me."  She
fought against tears and lost the battle.  "And I'd just like to know
what's causing this."
     Her husband went to her, placed his arms around her, and
finally, she did relax.  He carried her back to their bed, and
shortly,
she fell asleep.  Worf stayed awake for a long while after that, just
watching her and gently brushing her hair with his long fingers. Like
Deanna, Worf was anxious to hear the information obtained by the
probe, but for now he needed to lie quietly with his wife.
         ***

     "The first probe exited the wormhole in the Delta
Quadrant," Data informed the captain, "about fifty-seven thousand
light years from our present location.  It encountered a planetary
system with four planets, none class-m, but one class-k planet has
non-sentient lifeforms."  The android registered surprise and turned
to look at Riker.  "The probe also encountered a large starship
possibly of the same make as the one found destroyed." 
     Though they were both tired, their actual shifts having ended
about two hours ago, Captain Riker and Geordi La Forge continued
to listen raptly to Data's report.
     "From the probe's scan, I can extrapolate that in most ways,
this ship's technology is our equal." The android first officer
paused. 
"I cannot go any further with my report without permission to
disclose our earlier discussion with Geordi."
     Riker sighed heavily.  "It may be my neck with Admiral
Wilson, but I don't see how we can get around telling Geordi and
still accomplish our mission.  Go ahead."
     "Very well, Sir."  Data turned toward La Forge and said,
"This ship contains a temporal shifting device of some type, as did
the other.  Quite possibly this device is capable of altering moments
in time."
     "That's the secret Admiral Wilson wanted you to keep!"
Geordi looked and sounded quite perturbed.  "How does he expect
the chief engineer to do his job if he's impervious to the facts?"
     "You have to look at it from Starfleet's point of view,
Geordi," Riker answered.  "If this information were to get into the
wrong hands.  If someone were to use this technology for the wrong
reasons--"
     "Say no more, sir.  I understand," La Forge said, sounding
resigned.
     "We should consider ourselves lucky that these aliens didn't
discover our probe and destroy it." 
     "Wait a minute!" Geordi exclaimed.  "If they're capable of
altering events, why didn't they save their destroyed ship?  They
could go back to the time just before the accident occured and
prevent it from ever happening."
     "That is a question that we may never know the answer to,"
the captain said.
     "Perhaps, they have not gotten around to it yet," his first
officer suggested.  "It is not beyond possibility that they simply
have
not found the time to save the ship and its crew."
     "Time to go back through time," Riker mused.
     "If they do, then the Lexington would never have discovered
the debris, and we would not now be having this conversation."
     "That's an eerie thought," Geordi commented.
     "Or there is another possibility," Data mused.  "They could
have laws that govern precisely how their time technology is used. 
Perhaps resurrecting their people is forbidden."  
     They sent a thorough report via subspace message to
Starfleet Headquarters.  An hour later, Admiral Wilson contacted
Riker personally.  Riker answered in his ready room.
     "Captain," he said, "I understand that you told Commander
La Forge about the alien time-splitting technology."
     "Yes, sir.  I felt I had no choice."
     The elderly man nodded.  "Agreed.  Commander La Forge's
reputation proceeds him.  I know we can trust him to keep this
information from leaking into the wrong hands."    
     Riker couldn't help but picture a group of Ferengi traders. 
They were known for having bargained for advance technology,
such as warp capability, and then using the technology to exploit
others.  
     " I want you to remain in the area until further notice,"
Wilson ordered.  "Continue monitoring the wormhole."
     "Aye, sir."
     "Keep me abreast of any significant discovers.  Starfleet
out."
      The captain switched off his monitor and, leaning back in
his chair mused over the situation.  Even though the wormhole
appeared to be a loop, there was still the physical evidence that the
alien starship had exited through it, because the debris was found on
this side of the galaxy.  But how was that possible?  None of the
pockets were large enough to allow even a shuttlecraft through.  So
how did these aliens travel to the Alpha Quadrant from fifty-seven
thousand light years away?  Such a journey by the normal mode of
travel would have taken a few decades.  Yet the structural tests
conducted on the ship debris indicated that it was most likely less
than ten years old. 
     Riker enjoyed mysterious.  He just hated it when he couldn't
solve one!

     Chapter Five:

     Worf and Deanna were in their quarters trying to relax after
both of their shifts had ended.   Once they'd ordered their dinner,
Worf sat down at the small table with his wife.  Before they could
begin eating, however, the annunciator sounded.  
     "Enter," the Klingon said, annoyed.
     Riker stepped inside, looking rather grim.  "I'm sorry to
disturb your privacy," he said, "but this really can't wait.  I've
just
received a communication from Admiral Wilson."
     "What is it?" Troi asked expectantly, dropping her fork.  The
sharp cling of metal against glass accented her tension.
     "I thought I better tell you first, Deanna."  He paused to fix
her with a look of sympathy.  "The Lexington found the remains of
the Stargazer several hours ago only one-point-five light years
outside of the Neibolu Sector.  I'm sorry."
     The counselor stood up from the table to wonder around the
room.  She needed to keep in motion to keep from mentally
breaking down.  She felt her baby awaken, kicking sternly against
her rib cage.
     "There's little doubt that the collapsed wormhole in the
Neibolu Sector directly caused her destruction," Riker added.
     Concernedly, Worf abandoned his meal to join his wife by
the view window.  "Darling," he said, trying to comfort her with no
success.  She could not think clearly, did not know what she was
going to do from one moment to the next.  She just did, pacing and
not thinking, trapped in a kind of empathic oblivion.
     "Counselor, are you all right?" Riker asked.
     "I'm fine," she replied quickly, hearing herself say the words,
but knowing how hollow they sounded.  Finally, she stopped pacing
and took a deep breath.   "I just need time to get used to this.
That's
all.  It's not like we didn't already suspect it had happened."
     "But still--hearing the news."
     "Yes.  Believing and knowing are universes apart."  At last,
she accepted her husband's embrace, crying freely on his shoulder. 
After a long moment, she pulled free and wiped at her tears with the
back of her hand.    "Captain, I'd like to request a few off-duty
days."
     "Permission granted, of course.  The Ming Jung will be
arriving in this sector in sixteen hours.  As your captain, I am
giving
you, and anyone else aboard this ship who wish to, permission to
board the Ming Jung and accompany its crew to Earth for the
ceremony  that is to be held in ten days in honor of the Stargazer
crew."
     "Sir," the security chief said, "surely you cannot spare me
for that long."
     "Worf, this investigation is proceeding so slowly that I would
say Data and I could almost handle it by ourselves."
     "But security. . .sir,  if I may be so bold.  Are you not being
a bit overly optimistic?  We cannot predict when or where an
emergency will present itself.  I should remain aboard."
     "I'm sure you could find at least two or three security
officers that you feel are capable of taking charge during your
absence--ones who could handle the hypothetical emergency you
speak of."
     "Of course, sir--And, thank you, sir."
     Deanna, lifting her head from Worf's chest, did not bother to
wipe her tears away.  "Will, I only wish you could attend the
ceremony," she said.  "You and Captain Picard were so close."
     Riker nodded, thoughtfully.  "As captain of this vessel, I do
not have the liberty to abandon her--even for a short while.  I will
find time to mourn in my own way--and to say goodbye to our
friends.  I wish you a safe trip, and Deanna, get plenty of
rest--that's
an order."  He turned and exited.
     Worf walked up to his wife and instinctively clutched her
forearms.  She leaned against him, trying to relax in his reassuring
arms.
         ***

     Nearly two-thirds of the crew eagerly accepted the
opportunity to take an extended trip to Earth.  Most of them were
going out of a need to pay their respects to Captain Picard, Dr.
Beverly Crusher and the rest of the crew aboard the Stargazer, but
some were also planning to visit family that they had not seen in
months or even years.  Among those who remained on board the
Enterprise were Riker, Data, La Forge, and Dr. Selar.  

     Aboard the Ming Jung, as they warped farther and farther
away from the wormhole, Troi began to relax and enjoy the
entertainment available on the older ship.  A part of her was
desperately relieved that they were leaving the Enterprise behind. 
She wanted no part of that wormhole.  The realization frightened
her.  Never before in all her years of duty as a Starfleet officer had
she felt so willing to abandon a mission.
     On the second day of their journey, she contacted her
mother, and Lwaxana agreed to meet them on Earth.   The
limitations on travel above warp speed five had never really
bothered Deanna--until now.  When they finally arrived on Earth to
be greeted by Lwaxana,  Deanna collapsed into her mother's arms,
allowing the overwhelming emotions to flow freely from her.
     "There, there, dear, let it all out," Lwaxana said as she
caressed her daughter's hair.  
     As they ventured toward the private quarters provided to
Worf and Deanna by Starfleet Headquarters, Lwaxana kept her arm
wrapped around her daughter's waist.  Worf lagged behind slightly,
allowing mother and daughter time to comfort each other.  After
their personal belongings had been put away, Worf asked Alexander
if he would like to take a tour of the grounds as a way of offering
the women some time alone.  The boy eagerly agreed.
     "I can't believe this is happening," Deanna cried onto her
mother's shoulder.  "I always looked toward Captain Picard as
invincible.  Nothing could harm him.  Others died around us, but
Picard continued on."
     "Jean-Luc was a very strong and powerful man," Lwaxana
agreed, "but unfortunately, he was a mortal man--mortal like the rest
of us."  Lwaxana, herself, could barely hold in the tears any longer. 
"You know, despite his stubbornness, I truly cared for your former
captain."
     "I know you did, Mother.  And Beverly, my dear friend--I
had hoped to ask her to become my baby's godmother."
     For a long while, neither woman said any more, just holding
on to one another, offering each other comfort.
         ***

     The ceremony for the Stargazer crew was held two days
later outside at the park grounds facing Starfleet Headquarters.  At
least fifteen hundred chairs were set up in expectation of a large
crowd.  Every chair was filled with even a few people left standing. 
Since Admiral Wilson gave a special commemoration to each
member of the lost crew, the ceremony was quite long.  Yet none of
the onlookers seemed to mind as morning slipped into afternoon. 
Family members were presented with plaques, letting them know
that although their loved ones were gone, they would not soon be
forgotten.  
     The Rozhenko's managed to find a seat relatively close to
the front.  Deanna had known only a few other officers aboard the
Stargazer besides Picard and Beverly, but she felt a deep sense of
loss as each of their names were uttered by Admiral Wilson.  They
were all sentient beings with their own families and friends.  
     When the ceremony was finished, one by one, mourners
were permitted to walk up to the large plaque set up in the crew's
memory.  In the near vicinity, were other plaques placed in honor of
other lost crews.  Deanna and Worf lingered for a long while at the
Stargazer's plaque.  Rubbing her fingers along the engraving that
stated Captain Jean-Luc Picard had been the commanding officer,
Deanna fought against another outburst of tears.  Below his name,
in smaller letters, were the names of his senior staff.  
     Afterward, she, Worf, Alexander, and Lwaxana walked
along the grounds, remembering those ships and crews lost before
the Stargazer.  So many lives were lost over the years, and they
were not even at war.
         ***

     Inside his ready room, Captain William Riker was staring
pensively out his window at the stars as his former captain so often
used to do.  He tried to imagine how Jean-Luc Picard would react if
their positions were reversed.  Would he have insisted on
postponing this mission and attending the ceremony?  Probably not,
Riker mused.  He would have wanted to deal with the loss alone,
Just as I am doing now.  Riker smiled thinly, and without shame,
allowed a tear to flow down his cheek.  "Good bye, Jean-Luc," he
said, his voice sounding hollow to him.
     He turned away from the window and glanced at his
console.  He had left data collected from the last probe on its
screen.  Realizing he could stare at it for hours and not make any
new discoveries, Riker instructed the computer to exit the program. 
He then stepped out of his office, deciding to join Data and Geordi
in Ten-Forward.
     He found his chief engineer and first officer sitting at a table
beside a window.  "May I join you?" he asked.
     "Of course," they replied almost in unison.  Data pointed to
the chair positioned in between him and La Forge and Riker sat
down in it.
     For a long moment, they stared out the window in silence,
until the android said, his voice nearly choking, "This is harder to
deal with than I ever imagined.  It is moments like this that make me
wish I had never obtained emotions."
     "Data, Geordi," the captain said, not looking away from the
stars, "I order you to remain off-duty for the rest of the day.  The
wormhole will still be here tomorrow."
     "Only if you give yourself the same order," La Forge
coaxed.
     "Agreed."  Riker nodded and waved the bartender over. 
"We'd like a round of Earl grey tea."
     "Hot, please," Data added.
     "Coming right up," the bartender replied and turned to fill
the order.
     The threesome remained in Ten-Forward throughout the
afternoon, sipping tea, and reminiscing about various missions they
had had aboard the previous Enterprise.
     "Those were the good old days," Geordi remarked before
they parted ways for the evening. 

     Chapter Six:

     "Geordi, that is extremely risky!" Captain Riker exclaimed
the following morning in his ready room.  La Forge and Data had
entered his ready room and had explained a plan they had devised to
gain more information about the aliens fifty-seven thousand light
years away.  
     "Every test we have run on the stability of that particular
pocket," Data said, " indicates that it is structurally sound.
Several
probes have been sent through it already, as you know, without any
adverse effect."
     "We cannot pass up the chance to interact with people from
thousands of light years away," Geordi argued. 
     "Let's say the wormhole is as stable as Data believes it to be. 
Traveling in a class-eight probe is risky by itself.  When Embassador
K'Ehleyr traveled in a class-eight probe, the probe was expected by
the Enterprise-D and K'Ehleyr was let out immediately.  You
cannot open this probe from the inside.  And even if your probe is
noticed by these people, we still don't know whether they'd be
friendly or hostile toward your uninvited visit."
     "It's our only option, sir," La Forge pleaded.  "We either
send someone there, or we might as well leave this sector."
     "You mean send you over there."
     "Let's face it, sir--neither you nor Data are small enough to
fit inside a class-eight probe.  I never thought my height would be an
advantage, and yet I'm the best suited for this mission.  There are
others among the crew short enough to fit inside a class-eight probe,
but I wouldn't recommend sending anyone over there who does not
possess the knowledge or the experience to improvise.  If I may be
so bold, I don't believe anyone else currently on  board qualifies for
this mission.  We're not going to learn anything just sitting here
like
a giant duck."
     Riker sighed heavily, pulling at his tunic.  Geordi knew the
captain was about to give in to his proposal.  On one hand, this
pleased him and yet, he couldn't help feeling uneasy about treading
into the wormhole like a bug buzzing around a Venus fly trap.
     "All right, Geordi," the captain said.  "How much life-
support can a class-eight probe hold?"
     "We can modify one to hold a life-support unit with
approximately two-point-three hours of oxygen," the android
replied, "for a Human of Geordi's body weight."
     "Then we will set the probe to automatically return after
one-point-seven-five hours.  If the aliens haven't discovered you in
that amount of time, then we better allow for plenty of time to get
you out of there before any chance that you might suffocate."
     "That's comforting," the engineer said.  "If the aliens do
happen to discover me, it will take more than an hour or two to
learn what they know about the wormhole and the destroyed ships. 
In that event, I'll leave a note on a data padd inside the probe."
     "That is if the aliens are friendly enough to allow you to do
that," Data interjected, obviously afraid for his friend.  "I am
beginning to believe that this is not such a good idea.  Maybe we
would be better off sending a message inside the probe and waiting
for a response from the aliens."
     "No, I tend to disagree with that," the chief engineer said,
shaking his head.  "We could send messages back and forth with the
aliens for days before we accomplished anything.  It's more logical
to send a person for direct contact--get it all over in one fell
swoop. 
We're more likely to get them to cooperate in a face-to-face
interaction.  We have to realize that they could have the same
doubts about us.  My presents in their portion of the galaxy could
help allay any of their doubts as much as it could ours."  Geordi
placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.  "Don't worry, Data.  I plan
to be back home in time for supper."
     At one time, the android would have questioned such a
comment, but since he had had the emotions chip installed, the
android could fully understand Human humor and cliches.  He
merely nodded at La Forge.
     "All right, then," the captain said.  "Is there anything else
either of you would like to suggest before we get this mission
underway?"
     "A set of transmission relays, one planted inside the probe
and another inside the wormhole, may prove useful," Data
answered.
     "That would allow communication up until the point I exited
the pocket," Geordi added.  "But that would hardly be for very
long."
     "And what if the pocket narrows so far as to not permit
passage of a class-eight probe?" his android friend asked.  "With
open communication, redirecting the probe to exit would be more
easily managed."
     "I happen to agree with Data on this one," Riker said.  "We
don't want to take any unnecessary chances.  Data, I want you to
accompany Geordi to the launching bay on Deck Twenty-six.  Can
you have a class-eight probe ready to launch in thirty minutes?"
     "That would be an adequate time frame."
     "Make it so."
     "Aye, sir," they said in unison, and all three men exited the
captain's ready room.  
     "Mr. Watson," Riker said to the lieutenant at tactical once
he'd sat down in his command chair, "prepare to send a
communication relay into the wormhole and then launch a class-
eight probe at quarter-impulse power at ten hundred hours."
     "A class-eight probe, sir?"
     Riker glanced back at his tactical officer, smirking at the
young man's curiosity.  "We're sending Commander La Forge
through one of the pockets."
     "Aye, sir!"
         ***

     "Are you ready, Geordi?" Data asked with concern as he
hovered over the open class-eight probe, peering down at his friend. 
After only a moment's hesitation, La Forge nodded.  "I shall miss
you while you are gone and pray for your return."
     "Thanks, Data.  Maybe we can enjoy some recreational
activity when I get back."
     "I have a new holodeck program you are sure to like."
     "Then we have an appointment.  So I have to return." 
Although he spoke with convinction, his voice still quavered.
     The android closed and latched the lid.   He believed in the
rightness of what his friend was doing, however, he still had his
doubts.
     Suddenly caught in the total darkness, where even his
VISOR could not work, Geordi again felt like the five-year old blind
boy he had been so many years ago caught in a fire.  For a split
second, he wanted to call out to Data, to ask his friend to open the
probe, but the urge soon passed, and Geordi consciously told
 himself to breathe normally and relax.  
     "Ready to launch the probe," he heard Data say and a
moment later Riker's reply came, "Acknowledged. . . engage."
     Geordi had read about the amusement park rides that had
existed on Earth during the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, but
until the moment he felt himself being thrusted outside the ship into
the vacuum of space, he had no idea how thrilling those rides had
been.  Almost immediately, he became dizzy from the speed of the
probe and was glad the captain had ordered that it be launched at
quarter-impulse power.  The probe was capable of warp nine!
     "Can you hear me, Geordi?" the captain asked. The relay
crackled a bit, but the captain's voice came through clearly.
     "Yes," La Forge replied.  "The speed is a little dizzying, but
I'm starting to get used to it now.  I never imagined that a ride in a
probe would seem so bumpy compared to traveling at warp inside a
starship.  I guess you can't really appreciate inertial dampers fully
until you take a ride without them." 
     He heard the unmistakable sound of the probe entering the
wormhole and braced himself for the pocket wormhole next. 
Would he reach an impasse?  Or worse, would the pocket collapse
around him? 
     "Sensors indicate that you've just entered the pocket.  Can
you still hear me."
     He had not even realized he had already entered the pocket! 
Why had he not heard any sound that distinguished the opening of
the pocket?  "Yes, Captain."
     "Your probe has not slowed much below quarter impulse. 
Sensors indicate that the pocket is still plenty wide enough."
     "Now, if only I didn't feel so cramped."
     Several seconds later, he exited the pocket and entered an
area fifty-seven thousand light years away--and into the hands of the
unknown.  He had lost contact with the Enterprise, of course.  The
probe came to a complete stop.    He wondered how close he was to
the alien ship, or if the alien ship was anywhere nearby.  What were
the odds that the alien starship hadn't warped out of this sector?
     He waited.
     
     Chapter Seven:

     In a different part of the galaxy, back on Earth, Worf,
Deanna, and Lwaxana, along with the remainder of the Enterprise
crew, reboarded the Ming Jung.  Lwaxana had decided, against her
son-in-law's protest, that she would join them on the Enterprise --
where she would remain until after the birth of her grandchild.
     "A grandmother can be indispensable when a new baby
comes along--especially when that baby is your first," Lwaxana said
as they entered the ship's recreation lounge.  "I have changed a few
diapers in my time."
     "Mother," Deanna protested, "I do not need you to take over
my responsibilities."
     "Who said anything about taking over?  Believe me, the first
time the baby cries all night, you'll be happy I'm around to offer
some relief."
     "Perhaps Lwaxana is right," Worf said to both women's
surprise.  "We will not be able to fully perform our duties if we are
overly tired."
     "Fine," Deanna replied, dismissing the subject.  If Worf was
not going to object to her mother, in effect, moving in with them,
then she was not going to waste her time arguing about it.  
     They sat down at one of the tables.  When a waiters came
around, they ordered drinks, all non-alcoholic.  
     "I've been thinking about names for the baby," Deanna said,
hoping to keep the air between Worf and her mother casual.  "Of
course, I won't make a final decision without your approval, Worf,
but I've settled on two names that I'm rather fond of.  What do you
think of Eric if it's a boy and Shannara if it's a girl?"
     The Klingon could not find his voice, for he was completely
taken aback by his wife's choice in baby names.  In an alternate
reality, they had had two children with those names!
     The waiter came back with their drinks, but neither of them
paid much attention to the glasses.  Even Lwaxana seemed more
concerned about Worf.
     "Worf, are you all right?" Deanna asked.
     "Yes, of course," her husband replied, grabbing his drink,
more as a distraction than to quench his thirst.  "It's just that--
remember when we first started dating, I told you about an anomaly
that I had encountered while returning from a bat'leth
championship?"
     "The one that caused you to shift from one alternate reality
to another--yes."
     "What I did not tell you, because I did not want to put you
off just as we were starting to get close, was that we had already
been married in some of those realities."
     "I wonder why I had to work so hard at coaxing you to get
married in this reality," Lwaxana quipped.
     Deanna favored her mother with a look of annoyance,
before responding to her husband's unexpected news.  "You could
have told me this a long time ago, Worf.  I would not have felt that
you were being too forward, if that's what you were worried about. 
Although they belonged to an alternate dimension those other us
were married and not simply part of some fantasy of yours."
     "At the time, I was too nervous about our relationship to
take any risks.  But my point in bringing it up now is that, in one
alternate reality, we even had two children, a girl and a boy, and
their names were Shannara and Eric."
     Deanna squealed with delight.  "Then it's perfect!" she
exclaimed.  "I'd say our choices are settled.  Do you agree?"
     Worf nodded and for a Klingon, he came the closest to
crying he ever had. 
         ***

     "Captain, it has been one hour, forty-three minutes and
twelve seconds," Data reported from beside Riker at the command
center.  Since he had an internal clock, he was more acutely aware
of every passing second and that ability made him all the more
anxious for his friend's return.
     "I know," Riker replied, sounding resigned.  "Watson,
prepare to pull the probe in with a tractor beam as soon as it
emerges from the wormhole."
     "Aye sir," the lieutenant replied.
     Riker turned toward his first officer.  "Don't worry, Data. 
Geordi is going to be all right."
     "I am afraid, sir, that I do not hear any certitude in your
voice."
     "We have no reason to believe these aliens are hostile."  Yet 
Riker could no longer look his first officer in the eye as he spoke. 
"You know, we have gotten crew members out of worse scrapes
than this."  He hesitated, reflecting.  "However, we both know that
nothing is a sure thing."
     Suddenly, the wormhole opened up spewing out the probe,
placing a pause on their dispute.  Riker stood and stepped closer to
the viewscreen.  Data remained seated, anxiously clutching the arms
of his chair.
     "Geordi can you hear me?" Riker asked.  He waited three
beats for a response that did not come.  "Geordi, are you all right?" 
He turned to glance at his first officer, who stared back at him
apprehensively.  "Watson, activate a tractor beam and retrieve that
probe."
     The lieutenant at tactical complied, slowly dragging in the
probe with a tractor beam.
     Once the probe had been retrieved, the captain said,
"Watson, you have the con," and turned, heading for the aft
turbolift.  Riker barely had a chance to glance back and gesture for
Data to join him before the android jumped out of his chair and
followed him onto the turbolift.
     When they reached the launching bay, a technician, Ensign
Maria Lopez, greeted them with a glum look.  Before the woman
spoke to tell them it had come back empty--without even the data
padd La Forge had promised--Data knew.
     Data knew.
     "Lopez, equip the probe with another life-support unit,"
Riker ordered.  "This time we're going to send it out with a voice
message.  We don't know why the aliens took Geordi.  They may
have seen his arrival as some violation of one of their laws.  It's
best
to handle this matter diplomatically."  He turned toward his first
officer.  "I'll be in my ready room recording the message.  Will you
be all right?" He grasped the android by the forearm, showing his
support.
     "Yes, captain," Data managed.  "I will be fine--as long as we
keep busy and there is still hope."
     "There is that."  Riker left the launching bay, heading for his
ready room.  A couple minutes later, he was sitting at his desk and
thinking about what he needed to say to the aliens before he
instructed the computer to begin a message.

     To whomever discovers this probe, my name is Captain
William T. Riker.  I command the U.S.S. Enterprise, representing
the United Federation of Planets.  We believe you have one of our
officers, a Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge.  He came to
your space in peace.  If you saw his arrival into your space as an
intrusion, we apologize.  Please return him unharmed, and if you
wish that we do not disturb you again, we will comply with
whatever demands you make.
     "Computer, end recording," Riker said, "and download to
my personal data padd."
      "Working. . . transfer complete."
      He picked up his data padd and swivelled in his chair to
stare out his viewport.  The wormhole was looking less and less
inviting.  He stood and exited his ready room, stepping into the aft
turbolift.  Before the doors closed, Data jumped out of his seat and
confronted the captain.
     "Permission to join you, sir?" the android requested,
pleadingly.
     "Permission granted."  After Data stepped inside and the
doors swished closed, the captain instructed the turbolift to take
them to Deck Twenty-six.
     The probe was reprogrammed to return to this side of the
wormhole in one and three-quarters hours.  Riker tried to suppress
his doubts that the probe would even be returned this time.  He
didn't want his first officer to see how worried he was.  The android
was anxious enough on his own.
     "Data, it's going to be a long wait," Riker said once the
probe had been launched.  "Why don't we wait it out in Ten-
Forward?"
     "Thank you, Captain, but if I don't keep busy--"
     "Data, you may not require rest, but if you don't relax, I'm
afraid you may fry your positronic relays."
     "I do not believe that is a probability."
     "This is not a time to take me literally, but do take me
seriously.  I am ordering you to spend some time off duty.  You've
put in enough hours for one day."
     "Fine!" Data exclaimed and abruptly exited the launching
bay.
     "Sorry," Riker said to the technician as he straightened his
tunic.  "That was necessary."

     The probe never returned.....

     "He's gone," Data said vehemently as he bade Riker
entrance into his private quarters, "and there's nothing more we can
do to try to save him."  He had changed into off-duty clothes, a
sweater and slacks, and was fidgeting nervously with his sleeves as
he paced.  Since gaining an emotions chip, he also acquired a taste
for clothing other than his uniform.
     "I'm sorry, Data," the captain said, looking away from his
first officer.  He didn't know how to deal with the loss himself, let
alone help his first officer cope with the absence of his best friend.

"As soon as the Ming Jung returns with the rest of our crew,
Admiral Wilson has ordered that we leave this sector and that no
Federation ship come within two and a half light years of this
wormhole.  Starfleet is designating it as potentially volatile." 
     "So many friends lost...gone.  When will it end?"
     "Data, get a hold of yourself.  You are a Starfleet officer."
     "An off-duty one as I recall," the android retorted.  "I will
perform my duties when required of me, sir, but please allow me to
express my grief on my own time."
     "You're right, of course.  Would you like me to leave you
alone?"
     "Yes, please."
     "Okay."  Riker paused at the door to reiterate, "I'm really
sorry, Data."
     As he stepped out and began walking along the corridor,
Riker knew that his next duty would be to promote a replacement
for the position of chief engineer.  Lieutenant Barclay was the most
qualified for the job.  No one feels comfort in receiving a
promotion due to another's disappearance," Riker thought,
remembering his field promotion to captain after Picard had been
taken by the Borg.  Especially when the person you're replacing
was a friend.
         ***

     Lwaxana Troi spent much of her time during the return trip
trying to entertain Ellis, the captain of the Ming Jung.  The captain,
after having endured her amorous affections for one day too many,
strongly expressed to Deanna that he was considering the option of
diverting their course for a side trip to Betazed.  Only Deanna's
coaxing her mother to eat the remainder of her meals inside her
private quarters prevented Ellis from carrying out his threat.
     As the Ming Jung drew closer to the Enterprise, Troi
became acutely worried, though she couldn't quite label her fear. 
She wondered if they would return to the site only to find that the
Enterprise had suffered the same fate as the Stargazer crew.
     Confined, albeit voluntarily, to her quarters, Lwaxana spent
much of her time calling out to Deanna telepathically and well. . .
mothering her.  She knew Deanna was under a great deal of stress
and tried, unsuccessfully, to comfort her daughter.
     Deanna wanted to enjoy her meals with Worf, to lose herself
in their lovemaking, but over and over one thought ran through her
mind:  Not another Enterprise. . .Not another Enterprise.  She
could not suppress the overwhelming fear that they would return to
the wormhole site to find the debris of the Enterprise-E.
     Lwaxana picked up on her daughter's thoughts about the
ship and thought to her, Oh Little One, you need to stop worrying! 
I'm sure Commander Riker and all your other little friends are just
fine.
     Deanna wished she could simply turn her fears off, but they
continued to plague her, growing fiercer as they came closer to their
destination.
     When they fell out of warp and came to an all-stop beside
the Enterprise, Deanna could not understand why she didn't feel
relief.  Her beloved ship was undamaged.  It's captain and crew had
probably grown bored waiting for their return.  Yet she sensed an
overwhelming sadness among the crew aboard the other ship. 
They're is something not right, she thought, meaning it more in a
cosmic sense than merely regarding any single event that had
befallen them in the past several months.  Something about this
place is not right.
     "I want to speak with the captain before we board the
Enterprise," she told her husband.  They were still inside their
private guest quarters aboard the Ming Jung.
     "Before?" he questioned.  "But what would be the
purpose?"
     "There's something not right.  I can sense it.  I want to know
what we're beaming into."
     Worf nodded and they approached their private console.  He
trusted his wife's empathic abilities completely.  
     When Riker appeared on the small screen a couple minutes
later, he said, "Deanna, Worf, it's good to see you've returned
safely."
     "Will, it was a lovely service," Deanna replied.  "I really wish
the circumstances had permitted you to join us.  How has your data
on the wormhole been coming along?  Is everything all right?"  She
asked the latter with a more personal tone.
     "I wish I didn't have to tell you this."
     Before the captain had said any more, the Empath collapsed
in her husband's arms and began crying uncontrollably.  She could
sense Riker's anguish and hopelessness.  "Who?" she barely
managed in between choked sobs.
     "It's Geordi.  He volunteered to travel inside a class-eight
probe through the wormhole and into one of the numerous space
pockets Data discovered inside the wormhole.  We programmed the
probe to return in one and three-quarters hours.  When it did return,
it was empty."
     "Then he could still be alive?" the security chief questioned. 
"Did you attempt to send the probe back for him?"
     "Of course," Riker replied.  "I included a voice message to
any aliens in that regijon, explaining we meant no harm.  The probe
never returned.  Were talking about a location fifty-seven thousand
light years from our present location in the Delta Quadrant.  We
have no way to send out a rescue team.  I feel as though my hands
are tied."
     "Understood."
     "Will there be any service held in Geordi's honor?" Deanna
asked.
     "Yes, tomorrow at fifteen hundred hours in Ten-Forward."
     So once again, they were faced with saying goodbye to a
friend.

     After the last of the Enterprise passengers had been beamed
aboard, Riker gave the order to warp away from the wormhole.  
     Inside her quarters, Deanna lay on her bed unresponsive to
her husband's soothing words.  Staring out the viewwindow, she still
sensed the wormholes presence.  She wanted to get far away from
the wormhole and from its suffocating grasp.  She knew she could
never forget it, though--and what it had taken away from them.

     Chapter Eight:

     In the weeks that followed, Troi slowly dealt with the losses. 
She was comforted by her baby and eagerly looked forward to
motherhood.  She even resumed counseling crew members, which
provided therapy for herself in turn.  She spoke with Data daily,
usually in an informal manner--on the bridge or in Ten-Forward--
about their mutual losses.  She also spent several sessions talking
with Reginald Barclay, who had been newly promoted to a
lieutenant commander along with his change in position to chief
engineer.  To her surprise, he was actually dealing rather well with
La Forge's disappearance and had readily adapted to life as chief
engineer.  Deanna, herself, was able to adjust to the new status quo. 
So she thought.
     Once she entered the final few weeks of her pregnancy,
however, she began feeling uncontrollably depressed, not unlike she
had a few months before when they had been investigating the
looped wormhole. Yet she could no more pinpoint the source as she
could back then.  She wondered if the source of her feelings were
not identical, as did her husband.  
     When Worf stepped into the ready room and brought the
problem to the captain's attention, Riker asked, "Has Lwaxana said
anything to you about this?  Has she herself had any unusual
telepathic experiences recently?"
     "None that I know of, sir, but we both know that Lwaxana's
abilities differ from Deanna's.  Whatever is causing Deanna's
emotional problem may have no effect on Lwaxana."
     "You're right, of course."
     "Sir, I recommend that we launch a probe.  With Deanna's
empathic abilities, it is possible that an unknown entity is
influencing
her mood.  We both know it has happened before."
     "The two-dimensional aliens--yes, I remember how
distraught she was back then."
     Such an influence was possible, because the Enterprise had
been in the same general area for the past ten days.  Mapping
ecologies sometimes took a prolonged period.  
     "Mr. Worf, I accept your recommendation."
     "Thank you, sir.  Please, do not let Deanna know the real
reason you are launching this probe.  She would be furious if she
knew that I was bothering you with her problem."
     "I understand your concern, but don't you think it'll be a tad
difficult to suppress that concern from Deanna?  We are talking
about the one person aboard this ship who can sense the emotions
of a thousand simultaneously.  She's probably out there on the
bridge now, looking at the ready-room door and wondering why
we're both sitting in here, our minds filled with worry."
     "Sir, of course, I know all that, and I have had no qualms
about expressing my concerns about her condition to her openly in
private.  But if she knew I came to you for help--" Worf allowed a
small smile--"Well, how would it look, my going to her old flame
for help of this nature?"
     "Deanna is a very proud woman," Riker mused.  "She
obviously doesn't want her reputation marred."
     "She puts up a good front while she is on duty, sir, but at
night when we are alone--Captain, it is gut wrenching to see her in
such turmoil and to be unable to do anything about it."
     Riker realized that it took a lot for the Klingon to admit
weakness--especially to the man who had once been Imzadi to his
wife.  "Worf, you know I will always care for Deanna.  I'll do
anything within my power to help her."  He tapped his commbadge
and said, "Riker to Commander Barclay."
     "Barclay here, sir.  Is there a problem?"
     Riker hesitated before answering.  "I'm not really sure yet.  I
want you to launch a probe for routine scanning of the area.  We're
here to explore--so let's explore!"
     "Aye, sir.  Give me a moment to project the telemetry of the
next solar system."
     "Good enough.  Riker out."
     Riker and Worf exited the ready room and took their
positions on the bridge.  The captain's gaze met the counselor's
along the way and he immediately  wondered how much sleep she'd
had in the past few days.  She appeared exhausted to the point of
losing coherence.  Only a fraction of a moment later, he felt her
penetrating his mind.  He fought against overtly pushing her away--
he didn't want to alarm her, after all.
     After sitting in his command chair, Riker turned to his first
officer.  "Barclay will be launching a probe in a few minutes.  When
it comes in, I want you to scan it for certain evidence.  I'll explain
more later."
     "May I inquire, sir--" Data began.
     "I'll explain more later!" Riker snapped.  He turned toward
Deanna, gauging her reaction to this exchange.  She opened her
mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the chief engineer coming
over the commlink.
     "Barclay to Bridge."
     "Riker here."
     "Sir, we're ready to launch the probe.  The next solar
system is five-point-seven parsecs from our present location."
     "Go ahead."
     "Will," Deanna said, "why are we sending out a probe to the
next system when we'll be traveling there anyway once were done
mapping the ecology of this one?"
     "For precautionary reasons.  I think we need to know what
we're heading into before we get there."
     "Then why has that not been our routine?  Something is up
that you're not telling me about."  From behind them, the Klingon
clenched the horseshoe-shaped console and his wife turned toward
him.  "This is about me, isn't it?"
     "Deanna, I think you better go off duty until after your baby
is born--effective immediately."  Will placed his hand comfortingly
on her arm.
     The Empath pushed him away and stood, clutching her back
with one hand to balance herself.  "Don't patronize me!  I want
some answers!"
     "Deanna, if you don't take a leave of duty, I'll have Dr. Selar
write up a medical report stating that you are physically incapable of
performing your duties.  Your exhausted.  Please don't argue with
me about this.  Worf, take the next two hours off.  Watson can
cover for you."
     The Klingon quickly walked from around his post and to his
wife.  He grasped her by the shoulders.  "Darling, please," he
begged.
     "I will leave," the counselor conceded, "but only because I
do not wish to make a scene on the bridge."   She flipped her head
around to face her husband.  " Worf, I wish to speak with you in
private."  She turned and hobbled to the turbolift.  In that moment,
Riker didn't envy the Klingon. 
     After the turbolift door closed on Deanna and Worf, Riker
turned toward his first officer and spoke freely.  "Data, I need you
to scan the probe's data for any evidence that unusual or empathic
aliens are within close vicinity of us."
     "Should I assume that you require this specific scan to help
Deanna in some capacity?"
     "This is to go no further," the captain said, lowering his
voice.  "Under Worf's request, we are trying to determine if
Deanna's melancholy is being influenced by an empathic link with a
yet unknown entity."
     Data leaned toward his commanding officer and matched
Riker's tone.  "I have observed that she has been less sociable these
past few days."
     "It may be that she's just been working too hard and needs to
take it easy at least until after the baby's born.  But Worf is
worried
that something else is causing her undo stress, and I don't feel we
should take his concern lightly."
     "I agree.  Deanna has helped me immensely to adjust to
emotions during the past year.  I would be more than happy to
return the kindness."
         ***

     Troi did not speak to her husband the entire trip from the
Bridge to their private quarters.  He knew she was angry and opted
to let her stew for a few minutes, thinking maybe she would calm
down if she had time to consider his position.  He couldn't have
been further from the truth; once they reached the privacy of their
quarters she let him have it.
     "I cannot believe that you went to see the captain about me
behind my back!" she yelled.  "You should have discussed your
concerns with me first!"  
     "But Deanna--"
     "You will let me speak my mind first, Worf!  I've prided
myself on how open and honest our relationship has been.  I
thought my streak of bad luck with men was finally over when I fell
in love with not only a companion, but a friend.  We have been
friends for years...years.  And never have you betrayed me like
this!"  Suddenly, she burst into tears and collapsed on the sofa,
overwhelmed by the surge of emotions.  She covered her face with
her hands.  "I just feel so. . .betrayed."
     "Deanna," Worf said with compassion.  He wanted to
comfort her, but knew she would not let him.  This was so
frustrating!  "You are right.  I should have discussed this matter
with
you first, but my thoughts and concerns were on how to help you. 
You must believe that I only meant to look after your best interests. 
You are my wife.  It would be dishonorable for me to just stand by
and let you suffer!"  He paused, wondering if she believed him. 
How could he possibly make this situation better?  He feared he
would only make it worse, but he had to try.  "Whatever we learn
from the probe--no matter what it is--I promise to keep you fully
informed."  He tentatively stepped toward her, stopping only inches
from her.  "You are very tired.  You have not been sleeping well,
and I am not sure if you have been eating well either."  The Klingon
lowered his voice, almost inaudibly.  "I could not bear it if I lost
you
or the baby."
     Without wiping away her tears, Deanna looked up at her
husband.  "I do believe you, Worf.  It's just...I feel...not like
myself. 
If I were less tired, less distraught, I probably wouldn't have gotten
so angry."  He could see in her eyes that admitting this weakness
had been difficult for her.
     Worf sat down beside her and she collapsed into his arms. 
He stroked her hair, relieved that she was finally allowing him to
comfort her.
     "I love you, darling," he said, words that had never come
easily to him.
     "Since you have a while before you're required to go back to
duty," she began, "Why don't you come lie with me for a while?" 
She smiled through her glistening tears and raised her eyebrows
suggestively at him.
     Without another word, Worf scooped his wife up into his
arms and carried her into their bedroom.  She smiled up at him,
running her fingers through his beard.  Gently but urgently, he laid
her down on the bed and began undressing her.
         ***

     When the probe returned two and a half hours later, Data
worked diligently at the science station, thoroughly reading through
all the data it had accumulated--which for an android took all of
about ten minutes.  He swivelled in his chair to look at the captain
and the security chief, who were standing only a few feet behind
him.  "The probe detected a small pocket-sized hole about three
parsecs from our present location.  It is one-point-five meters in
diameter and leads directly to the wormhole we discovered a few
months ago."
     "The one where Geordi--" Riker began.
     "Yes, sir," the android interrupted, growing teary eyed.  "It
almost seems as though this anomaly is following us around like it
has a mind of its own.  The odds of our randomly encountering the
same anomaly in such a short time are ten-thousand to one at best."
     "Maybe it does have a mind of its own," Riker mused, "or
rather it's being controlled by someone."
     "Are you saying that aliens are tracking us?" the Klingon
asked gruffly.  "That they may be causing my wife's turmoil!"  He
looked positively ready to battle the unknown enemy by himself.
     "Mr. Worf, calm down--and that is an order."  After Worf
visibly relaxed, albeit only slightly by Human standards, Riker
looked at his first officer.  "Data, what are the chances that this
wormhole was artificially created?"
     "Interesting hypothesis, sir!" Data said, excitement ringing in
his voice.  He flipped around in his chair to once again work
vigorously at the console.  "There is evidence to substantiate that
theory.  Although the pocket-sized wormhole is stable, there is a
possibly synthetic matter giving it cohesion."
     "Then are we jumping the gun in assuming that the creators
of this wormhole are causing Deanna's turmoil?"
     "I cannot answer that with absolute certainty, sir."  The
android paused.  "But that would be my guess as well."  He glanced
at Worf with a pang of sympathy.
     "It is so infuriating," the Klingon growled, "to know the
enemy, but not know how to battle it."
     "We've already lost Geordi to this anomaly," Riker said,
though certainly no one needed reminding.  "Let's contact Starfleet
and notify them of Deanna's condition and the new wormhole.  I
think if we're to continue this mission, we need to get Deanna away
from the area."
     The Klingon nodded with appreciation.  "I agree.  But
Deanna will not like it!"
     "I know, but her safety is our main concern.  I can order
Deanna to leave this ship and this area as soon as the first available
ship can reach this area to transport her.  She needn't even know
you were in on the decision, Worf.  She can hate me all she wants
for it.  Mr. Data, contact Starfleet and apprize them of our
situation."
     "Aye, sir."
     "Thank you, sir," Worf said to the captain, "but after
the...discussion I had with Deanna earlier, I believe it would be
better if I told her that I also feel it is a good idea for her to
leave the
ship during this mission.  She may grow angry with me, but at least
she could not accuse me of once again lying to her."
     "Understood.  In the meantime, I'm going to have a talk with
Lwaxana and see if she has any suggestions that might help Deanna. 
Data, you have the bridge."  Riker left the bridge using the forward
turbolift.  "Computer, location of Lwaxana Troi," he requested.
     "Ambassador Troi is on Deck Six inside her guest
quarters."
     "Take me there."
     About fifteen seconds later, the turbolift arrived at Deck Six
and opened up to the corridor.  When he reached Lwaxana's
quarters he pressed the annunciator, she did not immediately
answer, but he waited with as much patients as he could manage.
     She answered her door with a smile.  "Captain, to what do I
owe--" she faltered, her expression changing to one of concern. 
"It's more than just simple depression, isn't it?  You think someone
or something is causing my daughter's pain."
     "Can I come in so we can discuss this?"
     "Yes, of course."  She stepped out of his way and he
entered, walking over to her sofa.  They sat down on opposite ends. 
"Tell me everything you know."
     "There's a pocket-sized wormhole about three parsecs from
here."  Riker went on to tell her everything about his conversation
with Data and Worf.  "So I may need you to convince her to take
some shore leave.  With the baby almost here, I'm sure she'll have
no trouble getting Starfleet to agree to an extended leave."
     "The trouble is in getting my daughter to agree.  She is quite
stubborn, you know."
     Runs in the family, Riker thought, but decided against
saying.  He only hoped that Lwaxana wasn't probing his thoughts at
that moment.  Aloud he said with a broad smile, "I'm sure you're
quite capable of the task."
         ***

     "Absolutely not!" Troi exclaimed after her mother had
suggested that they depart for Betazed.  "I can't be separated from
Worf for a few months.  He wouldn't even be with me when our
baby is born.  How can you ask me to do such a thing?
     "Deanna, darling.  Look at yourself!  You need some R&R."
     
     "I cannot believe Will put you up to this.  When Worf hears
about this--"  She gasped, suddenly realizing what her mother wasn't
telling her:  Her husband already knew about this!  "I cannot believe
this--you're all conspiring against me!"  Deanna scurried to the door,
surprisingly fast for a woman nearly ten-months pregnant.
     But little One! Lwaxana sent telepathically.  She continued,
following, even after Deanna was halfway down the corridor. 
We're very concerned about you and the baby.  If you don't leave
this ship, I'm afraid for the baby's life.
     Deanna halted and said aloud, "Oh, I don't think so, Mother! 
I would know if the baby was in any physical danger!"
     "I'm not so sure you're thinking clearly enough," Lwaxana
countered.
     "I will agree to remain off-duty, but don't ask me to leave
this ship and my husband.  I'm going to my quarters now.  Leave me
alone!"
         ***

     "Admiral Wilson, glad you could respond so quickly to my
message," Riker said from inside his ready room.
     From the small viewscreen on the captain's desk, the admiral
said, "Will, I understand your situation and concur with your
hypothesis.  You had no way of knowing this yet, but only two days
ago, the Lexington reported an encounter with a similar pocket-
sized wormhole."
     Intrigued, Riker leaned forward in his chair and said,
"Where was this other wormhole discovered?"
     "In sector zero-one-two, just outside of the Korridian
System.  Data gathered by a probe launched by the Lexington
proved that this other pocket-sized wormhole is also connected to
the larger wormhole they discovered a few months ago."
     "Admiral, don't you find it the least bit strange that the
Lexington, out of an entire fleet of Federation ships, continues to be
the one to discover the pieces to this puzzle?  And now the
Enterprise...we conduct our own investigation of the wormhole and
now we've happened on an additional piece as well.  It's astonishing. 
The odds of finding these tiny pockets should be no greater than the
proverbial needle in a haystack."
     "Yes, it is a bit odd.  Have Commander Data run some tests
into the possibility that these wormholes possess some sort of
magnetic force.  Maybe we're not finding the pockets, but rather
they're drawing us to them."
     "That might also explain why the only ships to encounter
these pockets have been three of the four Nova-class starships. 
Maybe the structural changes engineered since the last starship
model somehow make these ships more attracted to the
phenomena."
     "I am in concurrence with you, Captain.  Also Captain, I'd
like you to begin working with the Lexington crew on this matter.  If
you were to both send someone inside an evacuation pod through
each of your respective pocket wormholes and into the wormhole I
wonder what effect it would have on the anomaly."
     "You can't be serious!"
     "Captain Riker--Will--neither your crew nor the Lexington's
has found any evidence that this anomaly is potentially dangerous to
any crew member.  I regret Commander La Forge's loss as much as
you do, but we must assume that he was lost through abduction. 
Otherwise, he still would have been inside the probe upon its return. 
I sincerely doubt that we have anything to worry about.  Once each
crew member has entered the wormhole, I want them to each enter
the pocket the other just exited from."
     "What would that prove?"
     "It may prove nothing.  It may prove everything.  We will
never know unless we conduct an experiment.  Many discoveries
would never have been made if those who discovered them hadn't
been willing to perform a few million tedious tasks along the way."
     And how many experiments will we need to conduct?  How
many lives will we lose along the way?  Will wanted to ask, but
decided against it.  "What about my counselor's situation?" Riker
questioned, eager to change the subject.
     "I'll be happy to oblige your request.  Unfortunately the
closest ship, the Roosevelt, is fifteen days away.  They have already
been notified and are en route."
     Riker supposed that asking to allow the Enterprise to
temporarily warp away from the pocket-sized wormhole was out of
the question.  What was one woman and her unborn child against
such an important discovery?  He voiced none of this aloud, instead
saying, "Thank you, Admiral.  Riker out."

     Chapter Nine:

     Riker hated everything about this mission.  He could not
talk to Bryson Porter, the captain of the Lexington before each of
them sent a member of their crew into a destiny that he wasn't
quite sure was safe despite Admiral Wilson's confidence that it
was.  He hated having to choose which crew member's life to risk! 
Why did he have to contemplate who was most dispensable? 
Everyone aboard his ship had family and friends somewhere who
cared for them.  There was no such thing as a dispensable person! 
He would handle this situation in the most humane way he could
think of, he decided; he would ask for volunteers and then weigh
each volunteer's credentials.
     At nine-hundred hours the following morning after
receiving Wilson's orders, the captain of the Enterprise called a
meeting in the observation lounge.  Present were: Data, Barclay,
Worf, Dr. Selar, and the ops officer, Lieutenant Corinne Berlitz. 
First, he directed his words at Data, asking his android officer's
opinion about the possibility of the pockets having a magnetic
effect.
     The android furrowed his brow.  "I suppose it is possible,
since the pocket possesses physical properties we have not
encountered before.  However, I have not seen any evidence that it
holds the standard laws for magnetism.  It consists of completely
neutrino particles.  In essence, it has no positive nor negative
atoms."
     "Are there any tests, any research that you could be
overlooking?"
     "None, sir."
     "Very well.  Then we'll simply label whatever has drawn us
to these pockets as an unknown factor."  After fully briefing them
on his conversation with Admiral Wilson, Riker asked the group
for their input.
     "Although sensors seem to indicate that the wormhole is
stable," the first officer began, "whoever undertakes this mission
will have to have the ability to detect and circumvent any
problems."  Data paused for a beat.  "I volunteer for this mission."
     "You're ability to react to any circumstance in a
nanosecond is a definite plus," Riker admitted.  "If anyone can
escape a collapsing wormhole, it would be you."
     "But," Barclay interjected and paused long enough for
everyone to turn in his direction.  "If the aliens who took
Commander La Forge are monitoring the--the wormhole, they
might see Commander Data's arrival as an opportunity.  If they
were to get their hands on an android. . .they will have access to
technology they may not already possess."
     "That is true," said the Klingon.  "Giving them an android
to study could be as dangerous as handing over the schematics to
our phaser and shield technologies."
     "Exactly," Barclay said.  "That is why I am volunteering
my--myself as an alternate candidate.  As chief engineer, I am
quite capable of scientific observation and analysis.  And, although
I hate to admit it, I would be far less of an acquisition to the
aliens
than Commander Data."
     "Quite logical," Dr. Selar commented.  "I would have to
agree with Commander Barclay.  There is none more suitable
among our crew than him."
     For a second, Barclay had a smug look on his face, but he
quickly regained his composure.  "Captain, the decision, of course,
is yours."
     Riker nodded, saying, "Request granted."
     "Sir, might I make an additional request?" Worf asked. 
"We should scan the wormhole for lifeforms.  If they exist, it could
help us understand what is happening with Deanna."
     "Make it so," Riker said and the words hung in the air,
serving as a reminder to everything they had already lost.  He
paused for too long, he realized.  "Data, you can handle the
lifeform scans."  He knew how much the android loved scanning
for lifeforms.  Thankfully, he no longer sang while doing so.
     "Aye sir."
     "Prepare for the mission immediately, Mr. Barclay.
Dismissed."
         ***

     Though it was not necessary, Riker felt the need to stand
beside Barclay's evacuation pod as he prepared for launch.
     "I ran a level-one diagnostics," Barclay said as he opened
the pod's hatch door.  "The unit contains adequate life-support for
several days in space.  All of its systems are functioning with
maximum efficiency."  He sighed heavily.  "I--I wish I could say
the same for myself, sir."
     Riker placed a hand on his chief engineer's shoulder.  "Reg,
you're smarter than you let yourself believe.  Just keep a level
head, and you'll do fine."
     "Thank you, sir."  The chief engineer stepped inside the
pod.  "I guess this is goodbye, sir."
     "No.  Not goodbye.  I hate goodbyes."  Riker grabbed onto
the hatch. "I rather prefer it the way the German's put it:
Aufwiedersehen: until I see you again."  He closed the hatch door
securely.
     Riker nodded at Ensign Kramer to release the locking
clamps and open the shuttlebay doors.  He remained to watch as
the evacuation pod took flight, gliding out into space toward the
pocket wormhole.  The pod grew smaller and smaller until it was
barely more than a dot in the captain's vision.  Suddenly, the
wormhole opened and glowed across a small portion of space.  Its
brilliance lasted no more than a few seconds before it closed back
up, snatching the evacuation pod.
     "Until I see you again," Riker mumbled before leaving the
shuttlebay.
     He still had forty-five minutes before the Lexington crew
member was scheduled to rendezvous with the Enterprise.  He
would wait out the time before his or her arrival inside his ready
room.  He wanted to review all the data from their previous
encounter with the wormhole anyway.  Just a little light reading,
he mused as he stepped into the turbolift.

     A while later, he returned to the launching bay to greet the
Lexington crew member arriving in the other pod.  A Human
woman in her early twenties with short ash-brown hair stepped
out.
     "Captain Riker," she said, extending a hand, "it is good to
finally meet you."
     "Oh?" Riker said with a big grin as he accepted her
handshake.  "I hope the rumors you've been hearing about me are
good ones."
      The young woman returned the grin.  "Of course.  The
captain of the Enterprise needs no introduction.  But alas, I do.  
I'm Ensign Autumn Raines, and a fresh graduate from the
academy.  Before you question Captain Porter's decision to send
someone so young and inexperienced on this mission, let me
inform you that I specialized in the study of wormholes while at
the Academy.  I assure you that I know everything there is to know
about every wormhole discovered by the Federation both forwards
and backwards."
     "Well," Riker said, rubbing his beard, "welcome aboard,
Mr. Raines."  He found her self-confidence appealing, if not a little
amusing.  "I'm glad you've arrived on this side in one piece."
     "As am I, sir.  May I accompany you to your conference
lounge room, so we can discuss my insights into this wormhole?"
     "I'd be delighted."
     They entered a turbolift and the captain instructed it to take
them to the bridge.  As they crossed the bridge, the captain also
asked Commander Data to join them.  Perhaps between his first
officer and Ensign Raines, a purported wormhole expert, they
would finally begin to solve this nagging mystery.
     After they were seated, Riker asked his first officer, "Did
you pick up any signs of life from the wormhole, Data?"
     "Negative, Captain.  The wormhole is completely inorganic
in nature."
     "Interesting," Raines responded.  "You were testing the
hypothesis that its creators were housed inside the wormhole, just
as in the Bajoran wormhole, correct?"
     "That is correct," Data replied.  He turned back toward his
captain.  "However, sir, I did uncover evidence that seems to
indicate that this wormhole is no more than a few weeks old.  In
each of the wormholes we have discovered, sensors have detected
ionization signatures in varying degrees.  This particular wormhole
has very little ionization."
     "So whoever these people are, they are not only using these
wormholes somehow, but they're obviously still creating more of
them.  Amazing!"
     "Judging by the time frame in which we began discovering
these pocket wormholes, we might also conclude that it is quite
probable none of them are more than a few years old."
     "Good work, Data."
     "Thank you, sir."
     The captain turned toward the ensign.  "Tell us about your
experience with the wormhole," Riker instructed her.
     "As I entered the wormhole," she began, "I sensed that it
was somehow different from the others I've studied.  I know that
may seem a bit naive of me, since I haven't actually been inside
that many wormholes, but I know the feeling was real."
     "Are you saying that you have empathic abilities?" the
captain asked.
     "None that I'm aware of.  And yet. . ."  She paused to muse
over her recent experience.  "Somehow I knew that this wormhole
was different from any other wormhole known to the Federation,
simply because of how it made me feel.  I know you want me to
explain that, but I'm not sure I can.  It probably wasn't anything
that could be physically documented.  Nonetheless, I simply can't
shake the feeling that it was different."
     "Is it possible that you had this odd feeling because this
wormhole was artificially made, while all the others, with the
exception of the Bajoran wormhole, were most likely of natural
origins?"
     "I don't think we could rule out that possibility."
     "Our counselor, Deanna Troi, is half Betazed," Data
informed the ensign.  "Since we entered this sector, she has been
experiencing an emotional conflict.  I believe it is due to the
wormhole's influence."  He said the latter, tapping his fingers
forcefully on the tabletop.
     "That is why I ordered Commander Data to scan for
lifeforms," the captain said.  "Ensign Raines, you might also be
interested to know that Deanna is pregnant.  We don't know for
sure that her emotional condition isn't being somehow caused by
her unborn child."
     "I'm afraid I hold no expertise in such a matter.  However,
it is my theory that this wormhole is not only artificially made, but
that it is being continually monitored by its creators."
     "I agree," the android said.  "When we examine the
evidence: linked neutrino particles, the destroyed alien ship,
another alien ship of the same make hovering beside the exit to
one of the numerous pockets, the fact that both the Lexington and
the Enterprise continue to encounter the same type of anomaly, we
must conclude that this wormhole is indeed being monitored."
     "But for what purpose?" the captain asked, and for a long
moment, the question lingered between them.
     "I can immediately think of three possibilities," the android
said.  "They could simply be studying us.  They could be
attempting to steal our technology, or they could be planning their
best attack strategy."
     Riker nodded in agreement.  "We could have another group
like the Founders on our hands.  Let's just hope they can't disguise
themselves as one of us as easily as any Changeling."
     The captain's commbadge chirped and a second later,
Lieutenant Berlitz came over it saying, "Sir, you have an incoming
message from Admiral Wilson."
     Riker instructed the computer to route the message to the
small viewscreen in the conference room.
     "Autumn, my dear," the elderly admiral beamed, "so glad
to see you made it in one piece."
     The ensign playfully examined her fingers followed by
touching her uniform as if removing lint.  "I believe so, sir," she
finally acknowledged.  Riker was a bit taken aback by her casual
attitude toward their superior, especially since she had not
demonstrated the same bravado toward him or Commander Data. 
"Ready to continue with the next phase of this mission on your
command."
     Wilson chuckled.  "Captain, I'm sure Autumn has neglected
to tell you that she's my granddaughter.  She tends to leave that
detail out while introducing herself.  Afraid my accomplishments
will overshadow her's, I suppose.  But at the risk of sounding
biased, I think she's quite a remarkable young woman."
     "Grandpa, please, let's not make a scene, shall we?" she
looked down at the tabletop, obviously embarrassed.
     Riker felt a bit sorry for her, but yet at the same time, he
was glad to finally learn that the gruff Admiral Wilson actually
had a soft spot.
     "You will be happy to know, Captain," Wilson said, "that
Commander Barclay arrived safely and is now aboard the
Lexington."
     "Then we may have established a quick and safe
passageway between the two points.  But, sir, what else have we
proven?"
     "Will, if there are other similar pockets throughout the
galaxy, we may have discovered the most efficient means of
collecting data on all four quadrants.  That's nothing to frown at,
my boy."
     "Sir, you seem to be overlooking the fact that these
wormholes may belong to someone else."
     "Until we know who we are dealing with, we cannot rule
out the possibility that we can barter for access."
     Hesitating for a beat, Riker said, "Understood."
     "I believe Captain Riker and I have finished our exchange,"
Raines said.  "I recommend that Commander Barclay and I again
switch places."
     "Agreed," Wilson replied.  "Autumn, when you have
completed this mission, we should have lunch together.  It has
been too long since I've enjoyed your company."  He shifted his
gaze to Riker.  "And Captain, I would like for you to send several
more probes back and forth between the two pockets.  Let's test the
stability between the wormhole and its pockets."
      "Aye sir," Riker replied. 

     Chapter Ten:

     When the security chief returned from his shift, he found
Alexander in his room, playing a video game.  "Hello father," the
boy said, turning to look at his father after he'd paused his game.
     "Is Sok'cheim with her mother?" Worf asked.
     "No.  I think she's resting now."
     Knowing that his wife hadn't slept a good solid night in a
few weeks, Worf hoped it was true.  He decided to order his dinner
from the replicator and eat before disturbing her.  He was
concerned about her health, but he couldn't delay speaking with
her for too long.  If he waited, the chances that she would accuse
him of keeping his involvement in the plans for her go to Betazed
with her mother from her increased--and perhaps, she would be
right.
     Riker's words right before Worf went of duty kept running
through his mind, "It will be fifteen days before the Roosevelt can
come to provide Deanna and Lwaxana passage to Betazed."  Worf
knew that there was an excellent chance that the baby would be
born before then.  How would the wormhole affect his wife and
child then?
     Returning his emptied plate and glass to the replicator,
Worf stepped into their bedroom.  Deanna was sleeping with her
back turned toward him.  For several minutes, he simply stared at
her, wishing she felt as peaceful when awake as she looked asleep. 
Eventually, he slipped into bed beside her and wrapped his arm
around her protruding abdomen.  She stirred for several seconds
before coming fully awake.
     "Worf," she said, actually smiling for the first time in a
while.  "Please, tell me that you don't want me to go away."
     He wasn't sure how to respond, fearing that no matter what
he said, his wife would again become angry with him.  Never had
he felt so defeated in a battle!  "Deanna, it's not that I want you to
go away."
     "Good, because I'm staying.  And that is final."
     "It will be fifteen days before the nearest starship can
rendezvous with the Enterprise, so arguing over this is moot at this
point.  What if the baby comes within that time?  How will the
wormhole affect it after birth?  It does me no dishonor to admit
that I am frightened for both of you!"
     For the umpteenth time in weeks, Deanna burst into tears. 
"I know. . . I know you are," she barely managed.  "But what
happens to us if we're to be separated for so long?"
     "A few months apart could never destroy what we have,"
he replied.  He squeezed her tighter, belying his words.  "I know I
do not say it often enough, but. . .I love you."
     She sensed that he did not want to separate anymore than
she did--and knew that she had won this battle.  Allowing herself
to fall asleep again, she hoped that her dreams would somehow
ease her pain.
         ***

     She was floating in space and yet she could still breathe. 
Although she wondered how she had left her ship, Deanna did not
feel frightened.  She sensed more than a thousand minds in the
ship behind her.  They were her friends, colleagues, and patients,
but for some reason, she did not care about them.  Her purpose lay
ahead of her.  Only there would she find the answers she
desperately sought.
     She swam through the vacuum of space toward the
wormhole.  Allowing herself to glide inside it, she suddenly felt an
overwhelming sense of the lifeforms that had come through before
her.  She did not sense that they had been in turmoil and yet they
disturbed her.
     Why was she still sensing them if they were no longer
here?  Why did they evoke such strong emotions in her?
     She wanted to scream.  She wanted to fight her way out of
the wormhole, but she couldn't remember the way to the exit.
     She glanced down at her protruding abdomen and to her
horror saw a swirling multi-colored mass in place of her stomach. 
"My baby!" she exclaimed, her words echoing throughout the
wormhole walls.  She brought her hand down to the aberration,
and her fingers passed right through her abdomen to touch her
baby, startling both of them.  Before she could jerk her hand back,
the baby miraculously pulled her inside.
     Her eyes took a moment to adjust.  When she could see
again, she saw her baby floating several meters away, but still
attached by the umbilical cord.  She could not see the baby's sex,
because it was obscured by the umbilical cord.  It stared back at
her, telepathically projecting its confusion at her.  Holding her
arms out, she beckoned her child to come to her.
     Sensing the baby's anguish, she realized that it knew she
had tried to wish it away earlier in Ten-Forward.  She gently began
to tug at the umbilical cord.  If only she could hug her baby to let
it
know it really was wanted!  The infant was nearly at arms length
when the cord suddenly snapped, sending the baby floating away
from her.  It
began crying, and in her desperate, frustrated state, Deanna could
not hold back her own tears.
     "Why is this happening?" she screamed.  "I'm so sorry!  I
didn't mean to hurt you!"

     "Darling," Worf said, trying to gently coax his wife awake. 
"You are having a bad dream."
     "I'm so sorry," Deanna muttered aloud before coming fully
awake.  She turned toward him, her sweaty hair clinging to her
face.  "Worf. . .Oh, my God!  It's the baby!"  Suddenly to Worf's
surprise, his wife jumped out of bed and wrapping her housecoat
around herself, rushed out of the bedroom.
     "Deanna!" he called out to her as he got out of bed.  He
groped for his discarded uniform, cursing as he tried to slip into it.
     She was out in the corridor and almost onto the turbolift
before he caught up with her.  "I have to get to sickbay!"
     "Are you in labor?" he asked as they stepped onto the
turbolift.  "Sickbay," he instructed the computer.  Noticing that she
was shaking as though very cold, he placed his arms around her to
offer her warmth.
     "I don't know," she replied through chattering teeth.  "But
something isn't right!"
     Dr. Aaron Meyers was the physician on duty during the
gamma shift.  As soon as Worf and Deanna entered the room, he
came to their aid, helping Deanna onto a biobed.
     "How long have you been in labor?" the doctor asked.
     "I'm not sure that I am in labor," she replied.  "But I'm
afraid that something is wrong!"
     "Okay, just lie down and relax while I examine you and the
baby."  Meyers opened up the patient's housecoat before picking
up a medical scanner and running it across Deanna's abdomen. 
"The baby's in distress!" he exclaimed.  He glanced at a middle-
aged nurse several meters away.  "Nurse, get me ten milliliters of
tricordrazine."
     Deanna moaned with the agonizing thought of losing her
baby.  Worf clutched her hand, feeling every bit as frightened, she
sensed.  "Will the baby be all right?" he asked the doctor.
     "We're doing everything we can," Meyers replied as he
accepted the stimulant from his nurse and pressed the hypospray
against Deanna's abdomen.  He waited for a beat and then again
ran the medical tricorder over her abdomen.  "It worked."  He
sighed with obvious relief.  "The baby's heartbeat is stabilizing." 
He smiled reassuringly at Deanna.  "You were fortunate that you
came to sickbay as quickly as you did.  A few more minutes and I
don't believe the baby could have been saved." 
     "What caused the baby to go into distress, Doctor?" Worf
asked.
     "I'm not certain."
     The Klingon turned to look at his wife.  "Deanna?"
     "I was having a bad dream. . . about the wormhole," she
explained.  "I think the baby was having the same dream."
     "Is that possible?" the doctor questioned.
     "Well, it's actually quite common between full Betazoid
females and their unborn child, but a bit unusual in someone such
as myself, who is only half-Betazoid, and my baby who is only a
quarter Betazoid."
     "Klingons are not known for telepathic abilities," Worf
added.
     "Well, at any rate," the doctor said.  "I think you better
remain here for the rest of the night.  We'll attach a neural scanner
to your abdomen so we can monitor the baby's condition for the
next several hours."
     "Worf, I need to tell you about my dream," Deanna said as
the doctor was attaching the scanner to her.
     "Darling, that can wait," he replied in a soothing tone.
     "No, it can't.  I realized something very important about the
entities, or aliens, or whatever you want to call them."
     "There are no lifeforms inside the wormhole, Deanna. 
Commander Data conducted a thorough lifeform scan.  The
wormhole is totally inorganic."   
     "I realize that now.  It isn't what's in there now; it's what
has been in there.  Whatever aliens have used the wormhole
somehow left an empathic echo, and the baby and I are
unconsciously picking it up."
     "Now that you know what it is, can you tune it out?"
     Deanna furrowed her brow in deep concentration before
shaking her head.  "I don't think so.  I've never experienced
anything as profound as this before.  Now I really know how Tam
Elbrun felt all those years."
     Worf turned toward the doctor, who was just finishing
some adjustments on the scanner.  "Maybe you can give her
something that--"
     "I wouldn't recommend it," the doctor broke in.  "Even for
a normal pregnancy, it is dangerous to use drugs, but now 
especially after the baby has already gone into distress."
     "Of course, you are right."
     Fortunately, the baby's condition remained stable.  After a
while, Deanna fell asleep, while Worf stayed vigilant at her side. 
She appeared to sleep comfortably with no more bad dreams.  He
noticed the baby stirring more than once, but Deanna slept through
the commotion, thoroughly exhausted.
     What was his baby feeling? Worf wondered.  What was
causing it so much pain to put it in distress?  Why could the fetus
not rest even after its mother had succumb to fatigue?

     Although both mother and baby continued to show good
physical health over the next several days, both continued to feel
agitated.  Deanna spoke to her baby, sang to it, rubbed her belly to
ease its pain.  Nothing she tried lifted  the melancholy that
drenched her and the baby.  Though Lwaxana and Worf continued
to dote on her during the final days of her pregnancy, Deanna
could not lift her spirits.
         ***

     During the next several days, both the Enterprise and the
Lexington crews launched more than a dozen probes each.  In each
incident, the probe indicated a stable wormhole.  Riker wasn't
convinced that their findings were such a good thing.
         ***

     Thirty-six hours before the Roosevelt was scheduled to
arrive, Troi felt the first agonizing labor pain.  She was a week shy
of ten months pregnant, a normal gestation for Betazoids.  Worf
rushed her to sickbay, and although Dr. Selar administered an
anesthetic, it did not completely ebb Deanna's pain.  Holding her
hand, her husband spoke softly, words of reassurance.  She didn't
want reassurance; She wanted someone to wrench out the little
monster torturing her!
     Deanna, sweetheart, her mother said telepathically, as she
stood on her daughter's other side. I hate to see you in so much
pain.  Concentrate on my voice, Little One.  Allow yourself to float
away from the pain.
     Despite twenty-fourth century's technological ability to
hasten births, her labor continued for nearly six hours.
     By that time she hated everyone in the universe.
     Then the baby came and as the nurse wrapped it in a
blanket and handed it over to the new mother, Deanna cooed with
delight, all her pain and anger completely forgotten.  "Worf, isn't
she beautiful?" she asked in a lilting tone.  The infant had skin
slightly darker than her mother's and a prominent set of ridges
from her Klingon heritage.  She was a big baby, too, at nine
pounds, two ounces and nearly twenty-two inches tall.
     "Yes," her husband replied, leaning over to kiss her.  "I am
pleased that we have a daughter."  He held out an index finger and
slipped it inside Shannara's tiny hand.  The baby clutched it
reflexively and began whimpering as she tried to adjust to the new
sights and sounds around her.
     You've made me the happiest grandmother alive, Lwaxana
sent telepathically to her daughter before slipping out of the room
to leave the proud parents alone with their new daughter.
     For a while, Deanna and Worf stared in silence at the life
they had created together as the infant stared back at them.
     "You're name is Shannara," Deanna told her daughter.  "In
Betazoid, that means 'sunshine.'  I'm sure you'll bring lots of that
to
our family."
     Several minutes later, Riker stepped into the room to pay
the new Rozhenko family member a visit and to congratulate the
proud parents. 
     "You are very lucky," he said, smiling at the newborn. 
Deanna sensed in Will feelings of joy mixed in with a little sorrow
that he did not have any children of his own.  
     "Would you like to hold her?" the new mother asked.
     He hesitated, glancing toward the new father.  Worf
nodded his approval.  "Yes, perhaps for a moment."  He leaned
over to accept the infant from her mother.  He no more than pulled
Shannara away from her mother when she let out a long wail. 
"Oh, please don't cry," Riker said soothingly with no effect. 
"Maybe I should give her back to you."  He returned the baby to
her mother's arms, but still, Shannara continued to cry.  "Now, I
really feel bad."
     "Don't," Worf said.  "I have heard that babies cry--a lot. 
Sometimes, for no apparent reason."
     "All the same, maybe I ought to leave and give Deanna a
chance to rest."  With that, he turned and left Sickbay.

     Shannara behaved nothing like her namesake, crying
almost continuously even after just having been fed and changed. 
Deanna or Lwaxana would walk her around the quarters, singing to
her, but the child would only pause in her screaming long enough
to catch a breath.  Shannara seemed only to quiet a bit in the
evening, while her family sat around the dinner table.  Worf
showered her with attention and to Deanna's astonishment (and a
tad bit of annoyance, too, she had to admit) Shannara appeared
content in her father's arms.
     Alexander was particularly fond of his little sister, though
she didn't openly return the gesture.  He voluntarily paced with
Shannara at times when the adults needed a break, relentlessly
rocking her and patting her on the back even as she continued to
scream in his ear.
         ***

     "Captain," Lieutenant Berlitz said over the commlink, "the
Roosevelt has just arrived."
     "Thank you, Lieutenant," Riker replied from in his ready
room.  He tapped the commlink on his desk console and said,
"Commander Worf, report to my ready room."
     The Klingon appeared in record time, though he had been
off duty.  "Sir, I saw the Roosevelt approaching."
     "And you were already on your way?" Riker leaned slightly
back in his chair trying to project an ease he did not feel.  "Has
Deanna agreed to make the trip to Betazed yet?"
     "I am afraid not, Captain.  She plans to remain on leave of
duty for about six weeks, but she insists that she will not leave the
Enterprise."
     "It's up to you Worf.  I can order her to disembark the
Enterprise if you want."
     "Dr. Selar has examined Deanna and assures us that she is
not experiencing any physical side-effects caused by the
wormhole."  Riker could hear the unspoken implication in the
Klingon's tone.  They were both worried about Deanna's mental
health.
     "What about the baby?  I heard about her experiencing
distress before she was born?"
     "Dr. Selar has assured us that despite the fact she continues
to cry a lot, Shannara is perfectly healthy; she shows no ill side-
effects from the distress."
     "I'm glad to hear that.  But what about Deanna's
melancholy?  We both know that it's a little more than postpartum
depression."
     Worf nodded.  "I am at a loss, sir.  Both Lwaxana
and I are doing all we can for her.  We have tried to convince her
that she needs to spend some time on Betazed.  An extended visit
to her homeworld could be the medicine she needs.  Yet she won't
even consider it!"  The Klingon growled lightly with frustration. 
He was obviously angry, but the captain could also see the anguish
in his chief of security's eyes.  After only a moment, Worf
composed himself.  "Thank you for offering to order her to
disembark, sir, but--that would probably cause even more
hardship.  If you approve, Lwaxana will be remaining aboard as
well."
     "Deanna needs her.  Of course.  Understood, then."  
     Riker couldn't help feeling a little disappointed by Worf's
decision.  Deanna needed time away from a Starfleet environment-
-even if she had to be forced into that realization.  She needed to
go somewhere where she could be pampered and rediscover her
innerself.  If she remained on the Enterprise, the strain on her
might cause a total emotional collapse.   
     The captain leaned forward.  "I'll inform the captain of the
Roosevelt that there's been a change in plans and convey our
apologies for having inconvenienced them.

     As he returned to his quarters, Worf thought about turning
around and telling the captain that he had changed his mind.  He
wanted nothing more than to send Deanna and Shannara to
Betazed where they would be completely safe!  But that would
mean breaking a promise he had made to Deanna.  She had agreed
to remain off duty and relax as long as he did not press her into go
to Betazed.  In addition, he had insisted that Lwaxana remain
aboard to help her.  The irony of his asking his mother-in-law  to
stay did not escape him.
     Though he could not completely convince himself that he
had made the right decision, Worf knew that he had made the only
one that would give him and Deanna a chance at remaining happy
together.  He did not wish to lose her.

     Chapter Eleven:

     A gong sounded, three rings as the doors to the courts were
closed to any late arrivers.  It was a large courtroom--the largest of
its kind, in fact--built in the center of Akie's capitol city, Rokit. 
Mainly used for cases dealing with time technology, this
courtroom held a particular interest to a large segment of the
general public.  
     "All persons please note," the arbiter said, "that this time
court has come into session at seven-ten after dawn on the four
hundred and sixty-third cycle after Pelvar three-four-six-one.  Anti-
counsel Frie, please state your argument against the regeneration
of craft two-fifty-six, class Browser."
     Regeneration was a technology unique to the people of the
planet Akie.  It involved the splitting of a time line to enable a
regenerative process.  Crew members of their military fleet lost in
the line of duty were literally brought back to life--into the future.

The accident, their death, and even the weeks or months that they
were dead were not erased.  This process often caused deep
psychological problems and that was why a hearing must always
be conducted to determine if potential good outweighed any
potential psychological trauma.
     "Sir," the female counsel member said, standing to
approach him, "craft two-fifty-six had one thousand, two hundred
and fifty-three crew members aboard during the moment of its
destruction."  
     Frei was tall for a female Akodian, with thick, long black
hair.  As was customary for females in high positions, she wore a
portion of her hair in a bun, while letting the layers underneath
flow freely.  Like all Akodians, the creases across her forehead
were quite predominate, while her nose and mouth were thin and
pale.  
     Frei was carrying a plastic capsule about three inches in
length.  She went to a console setting against the left wall and
slipped the capsule into the drive unit.  The twenty-foot screen
instantly came to life, showing the once-active craft two-fifty-six
in flight.  She tapped a command on the console and the image
changed to an elderly man in uniform.  
     "Captain Eldo was within months of retirement," she told
the audience.  "I conducted a five-year split alternate on him and
discovered it was unnecessary.  Captain Eldo would have died of
natural causes in less than four months."  This received shocked
looks from many.  While alive, it was forbidden to project anyone's
natural death, but once someone had been killed in an accident, it
was not only permitted, but often utilized in court situations such
as this one.  "It would be ridiculous to consider going to the
expense of bringing this man back.  Clearly he was not meant to
contribute anything else to this world.  We should let him remain
deceased and at peace, so he may be revered for what he
accomplished during a long and rewarding career.  Lay testimony
to his own words."  
     She keyed up a video of a speech from Captain Eldo.  All
fleet officers were required to state their position on regeneration
in the event that they would accidentally die during active duty and
to revise that position once every two hundred cycles.
     "In the event of my accidental demise during the line of
duty," the image of Eldo began, "I forfeit my right to regeneration. 
At this point in my life, I have lived fully, have had a rewarding
career, a good family life, and financial security.  My time line
knows, I probably don't have much natural life left anyway."
     The anti-counsel paused the video and turned to face the
arbiter.  "You see, sir, even Captain Eldo wishes that a petition for
his regeneration be ignored."  
     The silence in the courtroom was stifling as all eyes were
upon the anti-counsel.  This was the most oppressive reaction to an
opening statement.  Frie did not know how many of them were in
favor of her argument and how many were not.  Although the
arbiter held the final decision in all regeneration cases, it was not
uncommon for an audience's opinion to sway him.  An Akodian
typically held in his opinion until the last moment, weighing his
decision heavily.  She decided to give the floor to the pro-counsel.
     "Sir, anti-counsel passes for debate."
     "As you wish," the arbiter replied, turning to the other side. 
"Pro-counsel Thor?"
     The anti-counsel took her seat, while her opponent stood
and approached the arbiter.
     "Sir, the anti-counsel's opening speech is totally ludicrous,"
Thor said.  "While I don't blame her for wanting to start her
argument with the captain's death wish, I cannot believe she has
thus far overlooked the other one thousand two hundred and fifty-
two crew members aboard craft two-fifty-six.  They were not all
near death.  They were not all nearing the end of a very rewarding
career.  Indeed, many of them were only beginning what could
have been a rewarding career.  For them, I say it is in our best
interest to advocate regeneration."
     Approaching the console, pro-counsel accessed the capsule
Frei had left in the drive device.  The image on the screen changed
to a young female Akodian.
     "First Science Officer Netmak," he explained, "was only
twenty-three Pelvars old.  After graduating at the top of her class,
she had served aboard craft two-fifty-six for one and a half
Pelvars.  In that time, she received several commendations for
outstanding scientific research.  One can only conjecture now how
many technological advances she could have aided in, perhaps
even instigated.  This is only one of the many individual cases I
could argue for favor of regeneration.  I do believe, however, it is
sufficient to make my point."
     Thor turned to gaze at his opponent.  "Sir, pro-counsel
passes for further debate."
     "As you are undoubtedly aware of, sir," anti-counsel
commenced, "there has been only one case in which an entire
ship's crew was regenerated.  Many of its crew members suffered
deep psychological trauma.  Some were even unable to readjust to
a normal life.  Consider their anguish and that of their families and
other loved ones.  We cannot subject others to this fate when we
do not possess the facilities to offer everyone of them regenerative
therapy.  Sir, I fully believe in the technology of regeneration.  In
cases where one or two officers are lost and we are able to cope
with the trauma of regeneration both financially and psychology, I
would be one to pro-counsel myself.  But I sincerely believe that
this is an impossible situation."  She paused in her argument, and
she endured a prolonged stare with the judge.
     "Arbiter agrees," the judge said without hesitation, and as
the gong began to sound, the crowd grew tumultuous.  Never
before had an arbiter rendered a decision at a regeneration hearing
so quickly!
     As the crowd filed out into the hallway, Frei pushed passed
several annoyed Akodians to catch up with the pro-counsel. 
"Thor! she called over the din.
     He turned, smiling.  Although they were bitter enemies
inside the courtroom, they were actually close personal friends.
     "Want to walk me to my vehicle?" she asked.  "I think it
would be mutually beneficial if we discuss the alien picked up by
the Baum."
     "Ah, yes.  I couldn't agree more."
     As they walked side by side toward the exit, anti-counsel
said, "I heard he was carrying a weapon of some sort.  What have
you heard about that?"
     "That it is capable of multiple settings from a light stun
setting all the way up to kill.  This weapon was set at one of the
stun settings.  I do hope that means his intent was not hostile."
     "As do I.  How long does our government intend to hold
him hostage?  You do realize that keeping him for too long could
be perceived as a hostile act from us."  
     Thor paused just outside the door.  "My dear lady, it is my
opinion that it is already too late for our government's actions not
to be taken as hostile in nature.  I'm quite surprised his people
haven't come looking for him already.  If not for a single
individual, then for the technology he possessed.  If you want my
input into the matter, I believe our government was wrong to take
him in the first place.  He should have been immediately returned
to his people."
     "Yes, I suppose you're right," Frei agreed as they descended
the steps.  "They'll probably never return him now."
     "And that is what scares me the most."
     "Want to join together to petition the high court for his
release?"
     Thor smile, amused.  "Now that would be a new approach--
you and I on the same side."
     "I'm serious!"
     "I bet you are."
     They walked around the building to the parking lot in back. 
After Frei voice-activated the vehicle to unlock she turned back to
her court adversary.  "We really should do lunch again sometime. 
It would give us the opportunity to discuss this further." 
     He nodded in agreement.  "It's been far too long."
     She stepped into her vehicle and flying about twenty
meters above ground merged with the traffic.

     Chapter Twelve:

     About six weeks after the Enterprise crew welcomed
Shannara into the world, Captain Riker received an urgent
message from Admiral Wilson.  He took the message in his ready
room, while everyone on the bridge waited anxiously to find out
whatever they could.  After several minutes, Riker asked Data,
Worf and Barclay to join him in his ready room.
     "I have some news that you're not going to believe," the
captain said, unable to stop grinning, as they stepped into the
room.  "It's Geordi!  He was found inside an escape pod less than a
light year from Starbase Nineteen--He's alive!"
     For a brief moment, all three officers stared at their
captain, shocked.  Then Data burst out with laughter and
exclaimed, "Alive!  I cannot believe it!  How soon can we travel to
Starbase Nineteen and pick him up?"
     "Admiral Wilson has authorized us to postpone our current
mission and travel to Starbase Nineteen at warp five.  We should
arrive there in--"
     "Twelve days, sixteen hours, and thirty-three minutes,"
Data interjected.  "I shall instruct Ensign Heston to carry out that
course change immediately."  The android turned and hurriedly
exited the captain's ready room.
     "Sir, is Commander La Forge in perfect health?" the
Klingon asked.  "Was he tormented in any way?"
     The captain raised a hand to calm his security chief. 
Though Riker was worrying the same thing, the Klingon was
always the first to dutily bring up such fears.  "Worf, we'll find out
those answers when we arrive at Starbase Nineteen--at least I hope
so."
     "Of course," Worf replied barely above a grumble.  "But
how will we act once we know the answers?"
     "Unfortunately, that will be up to Admiral Wilson--and you
know that."
     Sir," Barclay began, some of the unsureness he once
possessed returning in his voice, "I'm delighted by Commander La
Forge's return, but how will this bear on my  promotion to chief
engineer?"
     "That is something I will have to think long and hard about
on our way to Starbase Nineteen.  Then I will present my
recommendations to Starfleet.  Barclay, you may resume your old
role, but chances are that Starfleet will offer you a  transfer to
another ship.  It's up to you whether you want to leave the
Enterprise for another ship."  He didn't remind Barclay that he
personally had turned down three offers of promotion to stay on
the Enterprise.  He didn't have to.
     "You will be missed," Worf said in a tone that conveyed
congratulations.
     "That is a bit premature," Barclay responded slowly.  "I
haven't made my decision yet."
         ***

     On their way to Starbase Nineteen, Data spent his off-duty
time in Ten-Forward gazing at the passing stars.  He knew that
such an activity could not make their trip go any faster, but
somehow it made him feel closer to Geordi.
     "Do you mind if I join you?" Deanna asked on the third
day.
     He turned away from the view window to gaze into her
rosy face.  Obviously, she was feeling better.  "Please, I would
enjoy your company."
     The counselor pulled out the chair across from him and sat
down.  "I'm ashamed of it now," she said in a shaky voice, "but
when I first heard that Geordi had been found alive, I didn't care.  I
felt heartbroken over losing him and then somehow somewhere
along the line, I stopped caring about everyone and everything--
including myself.  I just felt like shutting out the world and living
in a void."
     "I am unsure why you are telling me this, Deanna."
     "I'm not sure either--except you're Geordi's best friend, and
I feel as though I owe you an apology.  I should be overjoyed that
he is alive and will be okay."
     "And you are not?"
     Deanna looked away from Data to stare at the passing stars. 
"I believe the wormhole is somehow affecting my mood.  As we
move farther away from it, I feel my mood slowly changing."  She
suddenly burst into tears, and lowering her gaze, she covered her
face with her hand.  "I don't understand what it has done to me. 
Will it ever end?"
     Data gently placed his hand atop her free hand.  "I wish I
could help you as much as you helped me when I first obtained
emotional.  If it is any consolation, I do forgive you for your lack
of concern for our friend.  You have not been yourself and that is
not your fault."
     "Thank you, Data," she said, finally looking up again.  "But
what I need more than your forgiveness is my own."
     Data did not know how to respond.  He was the last person
who should be expected to counsel the counselor.
     Troi abruptly stood and said, "I must excuse myself.  I've
been neglecting my family far too much lately."
     Puzzled, Data watched as she left the room.  He knew
better than to chase after her.  He could not console her, nor did
she seem to want him to.  Realizing Deanna's mood was
contagious, he no longer felt like gazing at the stars.  He decided to
return to his quarters and seek out the consoling company of
another friend--Spot.
         ***

     Geordi La Forge was in the station's infirmary for another
series of tests when he received word that the Enterprise  had
arrived.  He wanted to see his friends, and yet the thought of seeing
them again actually frightened him.  Why? he asked himself as he
had everyday since he'd been brought to the station.  His inability
to answer that question frightened him even more.  
     For the past thirteen days, he had been exposed to a series
of tests both physical and mental.  He had been a bit malnourished
when he was discovered, but other than that, he was in good
physical health.  Well-balanced replicated meals had quickly
restored his health.  Yet nothing any doctor could do for him
alleviated his growing paranoia that some type of experiment had
been conducted on him--or worse, was still being conducted.
     Immediately following the initial physical tests, Geordi's
VISOR and implants had been thoroughly examined.  The doctors
found no sign of tampering, and the VISOR was returned to the
blind man, who was more than eager to see again.
     During the first thirty-six hours after his rescue, La Forge
was ordered to remain in the infirmary.  When no unusual readings
continued to show up from testing, he was permitted to move into
a guest quarters. 
     By the time, Captain Riker and Data beamed onto the
station and met up with La Forge, the chief medical officer, Dr.
Aron, had finished up the tests and was helping another patient.
     "Geordi, I cannot believe it is really you!" Data exclaimed
as he rushed to his friend's side.  They clasped hands and then
firmly embraced.  "We were so certain that you were dead."
     "I'm glad I could prove you wrong."
     "Geordi, what happened to you?" Riker asked, his forehead
furrowing with concern.
     "I'm not sure exactly," La Forge replied.  "I've been 
thinking about that constantly, since I was found.  I don't
remember anything from before I was brought to this station. 
Apparently, I was unconscious until a small freight ship came
upon me in the escape pod."
     "Escape pod?  Geordi, you were in a class-eight probe."
     The engineer shook his head in disbelief.  "I distinctly
remember--" He faltered as he recalled that Romulans had
brainwashed him several years ago into thinking he had spent a
week's vacation on a pleasurable planet instead of being tortured
by them--and programmed to kill.  Had something similar
happened to him again?  "That would have made more sense. . .
.since a probe could have been programmed to return to the
location of the ship."
     "Indeed," the android said, "the class-eight probe did return
on schedule two hours later--but without you."
     "Geordi, that is how it happened," the captain agreed.  "I
personally wrote a message to the aliens and we relaunched the
probe.  When it never returned, we regrettably had to declare any
rescue attempt as futile.  Geordi, the escape pod you were found
in, wasn't it of alien make?"
     "No.  It was Federation Standard.  That's why I didn't doubt
my memories, even though I couldn't understand why you would
have agreed to send me fifty-seven thousand light years in an
escape pod, let alone why I'd suggest such a thing."
     "Then how did they get a hold of a Federation pod?" Riker
asked, not really expecting I definitive answer.
     "I don't know, sir."
     "If the aliens have cloak capability," Data reasoned,
"perhaps they traveled through one of their wormhole pockets
cloaked.  Although boarding one of our vessels and stealing the
pod under our noses seems incredible, it is the most probable
explanation."  He turned to Geordi.   "It is quite likely that they
erased your memories surrounding the wormhole and
reprogrammed your mental pathways with new ones.  
     "We have to find out what these aliens are capable of
 before they steal anything else--or worse, wage a war."
     "I would tend to agree with you," a man in a blue medical
uniform spoke up.  "I'm Dr. Aaron.  Mr. La Forge here is quite a
lucky man."
     With a smile and a nod, Geordi acknowledged his
gratitude.
     "I ran numerous tests on him," the doctor continued telling
the captain, "and fortunately I found no signs that his abductors
used him like a laboratory rat.  As for the memory loss, I haven't
been able to prove anything conclusively, but I'm fairly certain that
we can all speculate some type of forced memory wipe.  Most
likely, his abductors didn't want him coming back with
information about their location and technologies."
     "Is there any way that you might help Geordi regain those
memories?"
     "I could perform an old-fashion hypnosis, but that often
doesn't prove helpful when dealing with cases similar to this one. 
We don't know how the aliens wiped his memory.  Their
techniques may be impervious to hypnosis.  I hear your chief
medical officer is a Vulcan.  Maybe she could perform a mind
meld."  He turned to address his patient. " I'd lay odds that if
anything will bring your memory back, it's a mind meld."
     Riker shifted toward his returned officer.  "It's up to you,
Geordi."  La Forge considered the option thoughtfully, and after a
long moment, slowly nodded.  "Good."  Riker placed a reassuring
hand on his chief engineer's shoulder.  " After you've had a chance
to readjust to life aboard the Enterprise, we'll schedule an
appointment with Dr. Selar in a few days."
     Geordi sat on the biobed and mused for a long moment. He
wanted to tell the captain that he couldn't wait even a day to
attempt a mind meld.  Yet he knew it was illogical to force himself
to undergo any stressful procedure without first fully recovering
physically from his ordeal.  So he decided on the next best thing--
change the subject and try to keep his mind off his own problems. 
"If my memory from before is still intact, I seem to recall that
Counselor Troi was going to have a baby.  It should be a few
weeks old by now."
     Riker nodded and replied, "Her daughter, Shannara, is
about six weeks old."
     "I'd like to see her.  A new face is just what I need right
now to help me forget. . . about not being able to remember what
those aliens did to me."
     "I'm sure neither of them will mind a visit later."  Riker
patted the commander on the bicept.  "I'll see you on board the
Enterprise."  He left the infirmary.
     Data lingered.  He appeared to want to say more, but the
strained look on his face clearly showed that he could think of
nothing that would comfort his friend.
     "Hey Data, I seem to recall you promising to showing me a
holodeck program when I returned," Geordi said, trying to lighten
their mood.
     "Yes," the android replied with a slight smile.  "It was an
interactive mystery on the planet Risa."
      "Risa.  That ought to prove interesting.  Please tell me that
you haven't already solved the mystery."
     "I have not yet activated the program.  I felt it would not be
as pleasurable without your company, my friend."
     "Well, I'm back now, and I could sure use some leisure
activity."
     Data nodded.  "As soon as my duty shift is over, then."
     "And Data. . .why don't you leave your pipe in your
quarters."
         ***

     La Forge decided to pay a visit to the Rozhenko quarters at
seven-hundred hours.   Riker and Data had asked him if he wished
to accompany them to the station cargo bay where the escape pod
was being stored.  He just couldn't bring himself to do that. .
.dredging up false memories.  Real ones could be bad enough.  He
wish he had real ones to deal with.  He thought he could get over
them far more quickly.  Instead, he thought he could use some
cheering up and could not think of a better way to do that than to
visit a new arrival into this world.  
     He found Worf feeding the baby with a bottle.  Somehow,
he had never pictured the Klingon in such a domestic role.  Yet the
change seemed to suit Worf well.
     "Deanna has not risen yet," Worf explained and as an
afterthought, added, "It is good to see you."  He stepped out of the
way, so La Forge could enter the room.
     Shannara, having noticed Geordi, began eyeing him with
something not short of fear.  She pulled away from the bottle and
let out a long, ear-piercing shriek.
     "I guess she really doesn't like me," La Forge said, stepping
away from them.  He suddenly felt guilty, though he couldn't
understand why.  Babies behaved this way sometimes for no
apparent reason.  Surely there was nothing wrong with him that
upset the baby.  Yet the experience made him uneasy and again set
him to wondering just what had been done to him.
     "Do not take it personally," Worf told his friend as he
placed his still-shrieking daughter against his chest and patted her
gently on the back.  "She cries a lot.  I am the only one who can
calm her down for any length of time."  
     Geordi could barely understand the Klingon over the baby,
but nodded in complete understanding.  He waited as Worf, gently
bouncing his daughter in his arms, walked Shannara to the other
side of the room.  She noticeably calmed down, her cries slowing
to mere sniffles.  Probably because she gained some distance from
me, Geordi couldn't help thinking.  
     After a moment, to Geordi's surprise, her father kissed her
cheek and placed her in the cradle setting in the corner of the
room.  The Klingon was not known to openly show affection--that
was before the birth of his daughter.
     She began her crying anew, but Worf walked away from
her anyway.  His anguish in doing so was obvious.  "Perhaps this is
not a good place for a reunion."
     "Or a good time," La Forge added.  "Look, Data is throwing
a party for me tonight at nineteen-hundred hours in Ten-Forward. 
Maybe you and Deanna might like to join us."
     "I will ask Deanna, but yes, I believe we would."  La Forge
had turned to exit when Worf spoke up again.  "And Commander,
it is good to have you back."
     "Yeah," Geordi replied, a bit dubiously.  As he stepped out
in the corridor, he felt overwhelmed by the lack of anything to do. 
It would be several more days before he would return to active
duty and yet there was no place he wanted to be more than
engineering.
     Geordi arrived in engineering to find the on-duty officers
had nothing more than routine diagnostics and maintenance tasks
to occupy themselves.  I guess they're getting along fine without
me, he mused.  He located Barclay in the chief engineer's office
writing a log report.  The current chief engineer set down his data
padd when he saw his friend enter the room.
     "Geordi," Barclay said, pointing to the chair across from
him, "have a seat."  
     Amazingly, Barclay assumed an air of confidence that he
once lacked.  Feeling a bit awkward, Geordi realized their roles
had reversed.  He took his seat.
     "It's been a long time," La Forge admitted.  "I'm not sure I
know how to begin again."
     "Don't try to rush yourself.  You were a good friend to me
when I needed one--despite all the grief I gave you."  He reached
forward and clutched Geordi's arm.  "You can lean on me now."
     La Forge smiled.  "Thanks, Reg."  After a long pause, he
said, "I guess the Enterprise is yours now.  I feel as though I'm
still lost."
     "I won't lie to you and say I haven't enjoyed your job or
that I don't want to keep the position.  We're in a sticky situation. 
The Enterprise doesn't need two chief engineers.  I guess we wait
until Starfleet Headquarters decides which of us goes."
     Geordi chuckled nervously.  "Well, they won't be making
their decision today, so why don't we stop worrying about it for a
while?  Data's throwing a party for me this evening in Ten-
Forward.  I'd like it if you could come."
     "I wouldn't dream of missing it."
     "I'm sure you have work to do now."  Geordi stood.  "I'll
see you later."
     "It's good to have you back."
     Geordi nodded, knowing the welcome was delivered with
sincerity, but as he walked toward the door, he saw Reg picking up
the data padd, slipping comfortably back into his role as chief
engineer.

     Chapter Thirteen:

     "Good day, Captain Riker, Commander Data, " Admiral
Merritt said as they met up in the cargo bay.  She was about sixty
with short, solid-grey hair.  "I am glad to meet you under these
pleasant circumstances.  It isn't often that a captured officer is
returned to us without either bargain or battle."
     "And that's what we have to figure out, sir," Riker said,
"Why?  What do they gain by returning Geordi now?"
     "Believe me, Captain, that question is utmost on my mind
as well.  What if they've programmed him to feed them with
knowledge about our technologies and other vital information? 
I'm sure that question is on each of our minds.  Learning exactly
who they are and their motivation for taking one of our officers is
my highest priority."
     "It is most probable that they have already learned a
substantial amount about our technologies," Data suggested. 
"Perhaps they used Geordi's expertise as a bargaining chip."
     "Information for release," the admiral summarized. 
"Terrorists have been doing that for centuries."  Merritt gestured
toward the escape pod.  "Let's solve this mystery before our next
encounter with them, shall we?"
     As they drew closer to the pod, Riker stared at it with
dread.  Before he could have wished that the pod would turn out to
be a cleverly devised imitation of a Federation pod.  He now had
little doubt that it was the genuine article.
     Admiral Merritt opened the pod, revealing that it was not
only still in excellent shape, but also a recent model.  "What else
have they gotten their hands on?" she asked and she turned toward
Riker and Data, the question lingering unanswered.
     "An astrophysics team thoroughly searched the surrounding
area where Commander La Forge was found.  Although they were
able to discover the pocket-sized wormhole he came through, it
only leads us to more questions.  The pocket was nearly five light
years from where La Forge was discovered.  How did he get so far
in an escape pod?  Before an attempt could be made to send
someone else through the wormhole, it collapsed for reasons our
scientists haven't been able to determine.  Its structural integrity
appeared identical to the other pocket-sized wormholes discovered
and none of them have yet to collapse."
     "Have you considered the possibility, Admiral," Data
began, "that this wormhole was collapsed on purpose?"
     "Now that is an interesting theory--and yes, I have
considered it.  A team is investigating that possibility as we speak. 
If they did collapse their own wormhole, then we must only
assume that the aliens don't wish for us to learn as much about
them as they know about us."
     "At the moment, it would seem that they have their wish,"
Riker said.
     "There is only one logical course of action, Captain,"
Merritt said.  "We must confront them before they confront us.  I
want you to be prepared to set course to the large wormhole in
twenty-four hours.  I'll get official authorization through Admiral
Wilson to have the restriction lifted.  Somehow, you must find a
way to send an away team to the other side!""
         ***

     Early that afternoon, Deanna took the baby to sickbay
again for the third time in a week.  Shannara would not stop
screaming and her daughter's overwhelming sadness was taxing
Deanna to her limits.  
     "You need to run more tests!" Deanna insisted, though Dr.
Selar could find nothing physically wrong with the baby.  
     "Perhaps her problem is on an empathic or even telepathic
level," the Vulcan suggested.  "You should consult with a Betazoid
psychiatrist."
     "You can't be serious!" Deanna snapped and almost before
she had the words out, she realized that Selar was indeed serious
(she was a Vulcan, after all).  "But that's impossible!  Shannara is
only one-quarter Betazoid.  Most full Betazoids don't show any
telepathic abilities until well into their teen years."
     "It has been scientifically proven that offspring can still
inherent genetic traits from trace bloodlines.  And 'most' certainly
does not translate to 'all'."
     "Telepathy in full-Betazed infants is rare.  Some Humans
have been known to show low-level telepathy, but it is virtually
unheard of in Klingons.  Let me have my daughter!"
     "Of course."  The Vulcan handed the infant to her mother,
and Troi turned to flee from sickbay, only to crash into Geordi La
Forge.
     "Hold on, Counselor," Geordi said, grasping Deanna
reflexively by the shoulders  to keep her and the baby from falling. 
"You should watch where you're going before you take the first
step."
     "With all due respect, Commander, out of my way!" she
snapped, rushing passed him and out of sickbay.
     "It's good to see you again, too, Deanna," Geordi said. 
Although he spoke with an edge of sarcasm, his expression clearly
showed worry.  His comment received a raised eyebrow from Dr.
Selar.
     "You are here to discuss the mind meld," the Vulcan said
matter-of-factly.
     "I'm here to do a little more than just discuss it.   I know the
captain suggested I  wait a few days, but I can't stop thinking about
it.  I need to know what they did with me, where I was for the past
six months.  Why did they return me?  Do you think I am wrong
for wanting to get to the bottom of this?"
     "One should always seek the truth.  To hide from it is
illogical."
     "I'm glad someone understands where I'm coming from.  I
won't be returning to full active duty for another five days.  I say
there's no better time than the present for us to work at unlocking
whatever secrets I have hiding inside my mind."  He tapped his
temple.  "I feel as though I have a bomb inside my head and if I
don't extricate it--"  He clenched his hand into a fist.  "--its
ticking
is going to drive me mad."
     "An interesting analogy, Commander, but I doubt you
should worry about some bomb going off inside your head."
     Geordi sighed heavily, realizing he'd mistakenly become
overly passionate in front of a Vulcan.
     "However,  I do agree that we should not waste time. 
Allow yourself to become comfortable," Dr. Selar instructed,
pointing to the nearest biobed,  "and we shall begin when you are
ready."
     Geordi approached the nearest biobed and sat down in the
middle.  "Would you like me to remove my VISOR?"
     "If you wish.  It is not impossible to mind meld with the
VISOR, but its removal would make the meld slightly easier.
     Reaching up, La Forge removed the VISOR.  Even after a
lifetime of blindness, he still felt a moment of disorientation every
time he removed the instrument.  He felt the doctor's fingers
pressing firmly against the side of his face and for several seconds,
he reflexively fought the tugging at his brain.  He had not been
prepared for the intensity of a mind meld.  Counselor Troi's
empathic abilities or even  Lwaxana's telepathy could not compare. 
This was a complete mind sharing.
     He could hear Dr. Selar talking to him and strained to
understand the words.  "I am you; you are me," she said.  "Open
your mind to me, so I may see what you see."  Suddenly, inside his
mind, Geordi saw a starship.  At first he thought it was the
Enterprise, since it was a Nova-Class starship, but then as the
insignia grew clearer, he realized it was the Stargazer.  He felt an
unexplainable urgency to call out to it, to warn its crew that they
were in imminent danger.  He knew that its crew was already dead,
the ship destroyed, and yet, he could only barely suppress the urge
to call out to them.
     Why was he seeing the Stargazer?  Was its destruction
somehow connected to his own disappearance?
     He then saw himself in a room with others.  He was lying
down, staring up at their strange, distorted features.  No matter
how hard he tried to focus, he could not make out their faces or
what they were doing to him, but he somehow knew that they were
not Human or from any other species that he was familiar with. 
Attempting to remember anything at all about them proved futile.
     Dr. Selar pulled away from him, and the vision quickly
dissolved.  "I am sorry," she said, "but it appears that whoever
abducted you placed a mind lock on your memories of the past
several months.  It will be difficult if not impossible to tap into
them."
     "We can't just give up!" he exclaimed as he snapped his
VISOR back into place.  "I need some answers!"
     "Commander, I have every intention of trying to help you
within the limits of my abilities.  You must understand that it my
require several mind meld sessions.  Allowing emotions to cloud
your judgment will only impede the task."
     "Fine."  He sighed heavily with resignation.  "Can we try
again tomorrow?"
     "Barring any emergencies, I should be free around fifteen-
hundred hours."
     Geordi nodded.  "Thank you, Doctor.  I'll see you at fifteen
hundred hours."  He exited sickbay.  He had a dinner party to get
ready for, and it wouldn't be proper for the guest of honor to show
up late.
         ***

     When Worf finished his duty shift, he returned to his
quarters to find Shannara in her crib, crying and soaked. 
"Deanna," he called, but received no answer.  Quickly, he changed
the baby's diaper, ordered a bottle from the replicator and then
cuddling her, sat down with her in the rocking chair beside her
crib.  She refused to suck on the bottle.  "I do not know what is
wrong with you!" he exclaimed, trying to remain unruffled.  He
decided that perhaps a lullaby would calm her and began singing
softly in Klingonese to her.
     Almost immediately, she stopped wailing and listened
raptly to the melody.  She sniffled for several seconds before
eagerly accepting the bottle her father offered.  Just before
finishing the milk, she fell asleep.  After gently burping her, Worf
returned his daughter to her crib.
     He stepped into the master bedroom and found Deanna
lying in bed, fully clothed, with her back turned toward him.  She
did not look at him.  "Deanna, is something the matter?  The baby
was wet and hungry."
     "Go away," she pleaded.   "I just want to be alone."
      "What?  Deanna, what is so wrong that would make you
neglect the baby?"  After he waited for a long moment, and still
did not receive a reply from his wife, he exited their bedroom and
returned to Shannara's crib.  
     The baby was still sleeping peacefully, but Worf could not
quiet the uneasiness he felt.  Something was very wrong with both
Deanna and the baby and Worf feared he didn't have the power to
keep his family together long enough to weather the problem.  
     He tapped his commbadge.  "Worf to Lwaxana," he said in
a low voice.
     "Lwaxana here," his mother-in-law replied.  "Is something
the matter with the baby?"
     "No, Shannara is fine.  It's Deanna that I'm worried about.  I
believe that she is overstressed.  She spends more time with the
baby than any of us, and I fear that it is becoming too much for
her."
     "Say no more.  Grandma is on her way to take the baby for
several hours.  Perhaps Alexander would like to come along as
well."
     "Thank you.  That would allow us time to attend the get-
together in Ten-Forward in Geordi's honor.  Perhaps an evening
with friends and away from motherhood will help bring Deanna
out of her depression."
     When Deanna's mother arrived a few minutes later to take
the baby, Worf was able to coax his wife out of bed.  She seemed
positively eager to join Geordi's party, and Worf wondered if she
didn't feel that way because it gave her an opportunity to get away
from the baby rather than to see a friend they had thought was
dead for so many months.   He wouldn't press the issue now, he
decided.  An evening free from worries was exactly what they both
needed.
         ***

     While Data waited for the others to arrive, he nervously
rearranged the setting at the table--for the fifth time.  He was not
dissatisfied with the tableware, or the color of the napkins, or the
seating arrangement.  He simply wanted time to pass more quickly,
one of the few Human desires he wished he could keep under
control.
     "Commander," Eddie, the bartender of the new Ten-
Forward said, walking up to him.  
     Guinan had been unavailable, having decided to take an
extended trip to visit with her family--at least the portion the Borg
hadn't taken care of two centuries ago.  Her replacement was in his
late twenties, well educated (though not through Starfleet) and like
many bartenders before him, a great listener.     
     "Perhaps a different flower arrangement," Eddie offered.
     The android mused over the suggestion for a moment,
studying the vase from different angles.  Finally, he shook his head
and said, "No, I do not believe that is the problem."
     "Well, it'll do you no good  to worry about it now.  Your
first guests have arrived."
     Data turned toward the door to see Worf and Deanna
walking toward him.  Deanna was wearing a light blue dress, low
cut at the chest.  The android noticed that she looked a little pale
and wondered if the new baby was keeping her up too much at
nights.  He hoped he could help make this a relaxing evening for
her.
     "Glad you could make it," he told them once they'd reached
the table and had sat down.  "Geordi should be with us
momentarily.  Commander Barclay, Lieutenant Berlitz, and Dr.
Selar shall be joining us as well.  Captain Riker regrettably is
delayed by a meeting with Admiral Merritt and is unsure whether
he can arrive before our gathering is concluded.  Would either of
you like anything to drink while we wait?"  
     "One hot chocolate and a chilled prune juice, please," Worf
replied.  When he noticed his wife shaking her head, he placed his
hand on her far shoulder and quietly, but reassuringly told her,
"It'll
help you relax."
     "I still have a few pounds to shed," she reminded him.
     "You look radiant," Data told her, having heard other men
use flattery on women who were discouraged by their appearances. 

     She turned to him, a slight glare in her eyes, and Data
wished he hadn't said anything.  Maybe he hadn't quite mastered
the art of flattery yet.  But then she softened and nodding,
conceded, "I'll have a small cup of hot chocolate."
     "Excellent choices," Eddie told them and scurried off  to
fill their order.
     Data sat corner ways from the counselor and looked upon
her with concern.  He gently touched her arm.  "Deanna, are you
feeling well?"
     "Thank you for your concern, Data," she replied.  "It's
really nothing--nothing that sleep couldn't cure."
     "She needs to unwind," Worf further explained.  "Our
infant child has been a great challenge during her first few weeks
of life."
     Data nodded, although he couldn't fully empathize with the
problem, having never dealt with the domestic task of caring for
young children.  He considered offering to babysit sometime to
add the experience in his growing knowledge of Human emotions,
but then wondered if he was up to the challenge of watching such
a colicky baby.  Perhaps he should wait until the child was older
before making the offer.
     Geordi arrived just as Eddie came back with the first drink
order.  The guest of honor sat on Data's right.  For an awkward
moment, the others stared at him until the Klingon finally broke
the silence.  "It is good to see you again."
     "Would you like anything to drink, Commander?" Eddie
asked.
     La Forge replied, "A cappuccino."  After the bartender
headed back toward the bar to make the drink, Geordi turned
toward Data.  "So, what have you planned for tonight's menu?"
     Data's expression measured surprise by the casualness of
his friend's question, but he answered without pause.   "A roast,
vegetable soup with selections from several planets, white wine,
and for desert, souffle with chocolate sauce."  
     He gestured for the bartender to bring out the bowls of
soup.  By the time the everyone's soup was poured, Barclay,
Berlitz, and Dr. Selar had arrived.  A few minutes later, Eddie
brought out the roast and everyone helped themselves to a serving.
     "I want to thank all of you for coming," La Forge said,
attempting small talk as he cut at his meat.  "It's really good to see
familiar faces again, and to eat Federation food."
     No one responded verbally to his words as he glanced from
face to face.  Each one seemed unsure of what to say, even Dr.
Selar.  Geordi wanted to pretend that it was just like old times,
wanted to erase the months he had spent away from his friends. 
But the rational part of him knew that he could not do that.
     "I'm home now," he said, "so why am I still so afraid?"
     "I think we're all afraid, Commander," Lieutenant Berlitz
said.  "They undoubtedly have more knowledge of us than we do
of them, and we have no idea what they plan to do with it."
     "If they simply wanted our technology, we would have
nothing to fear," Worf commented.  "But if they are to engage us
in battle, we must learn as much as possible about them."
     "I know you all want me to remember something about
what they did to me.  No one wants that more than I do.  Maybe I
will over time.  But right now, I don't know what they did to me or
why.  I am in perfect health, at least as far as medical tests can
concur.  And yet--I don't know.  I don't feel quite like me anymore. 
I'm sitting here with all of you, my friends, and I want to relax,
enjoy myself, and catch up with everything that has happened with
each of you during my absence, but I don't think I can just do that--
pretend nothing bad has happened to me."  La Forge shook his
head.  "I'm not really up to this.  Data, I really appreciate the
gesture, but I think what I really want right now is some time
alone."
     "I do understand, Geordi," Data replied with a tear in his
eye.  "And I hope you feel better soon."
     "Thanks, Data," Geordi said as he stood.  He walked
brusquely toward the door, but not without glancing back once to
look at his friend.  A big part of him wanted to turn around and
rejoin them, to tell them that he was making a mistake.  Yet he
couldn't.  Not this time.  

     Chapter Fourteen:

     "I know the drill, Doctor," Geordi said as he stepped into
sickbay for yet another mind meld session.  
     His welcoming party had been five days ago, and he and
Dr. Selar had performed a mind meld every evening since then. 
Their attempts to uncover any more information on the aliens had
thus far proven futile.  He wondered why he still felt hope that they
ever would uncover the truth about what happened to him during
those missing months.  Maybe hope was all he had left to cling to.
     La Forge lied down on a biobed and removed his VISOR. 
Trying to relax, he closed his eyes and imagined the wormhole. 
He wanted to concentrate on its beauty and its power, even though
that was difficult to do without also being reminded of its ominous
nature.  He pictured himself stepping inside a class-eight probe,
though he still could not remember doing so, and launching toward
the wormhole.
     He felt Dr. Selar's cool fingers press firmly against his
cheek and then the now-familiar tug at his mind.  At first he saw
nothing just as had been the case on previous attempts, but soon
images of humanoids came into focus.  Their features were a bit
blurry and yet unmistakably foreign.  What are they doing to me?
he wondered as they scurried about the room in his mind,  picking
up objects and returning to scan or prod him with something.  I
don't want to remember this! he screamed inside his head.
     Suddenly, he was no longer inside that alien examining
room.  He was standing in a corridor, looking out a window onto
space.  A large ship of alien make glided by and he visually
followed its movement.  A pocket-sized wormhole opened up
about ten-thousand kilometers directly ahead in the ship's course. 
The craft continued at impulse speed, seemingly oblivious to the
fact that it was too large to fit through the pocket.  Geordi looked
on, fascinated.
     The ship slowed, but did not come to a complete stop.  Its
forward hull penetrated the pocket and still it continued on, gliding
through the ever expanding pocket with ease.  Within only
moments, the pocket had swallowed the entire ship.   La Forge
heard a sound like a giant bedsheet flapping in the wind as the
wormhole collapsed, returning to its original size.
     Damn! he thought as his heart began palpitating.  He had
not witnessed anything as incredible since the soliton wave
achieved warp speed.  He heard footsteps behind him and turned to
see three of the aliens advancing on him.  Two of them grabbed
him by the arms, while the third scanned him with a small medical
object.  The engineer suddenly felt woozy and as he began to
succumb to unconsciousness, he felt himself being lifted and
carried away.
     When he awoke, La Forge was back in sickbay on the
Enterprise. "I saw something this time!"
     "Yes, I know," Dr. Selar said matter-of-factly.  "I shared
your memory fully."
     La Forge smiled as he snapped his VISOR back into place. 
"There is a way to send an entire ship over to their region of space! 
His forehead creased as he began to wonder--and worry.  How had
he escaped from the aliens long enough to witness the ship enter
the wormhole?  And why hadn't they taken his VISOR away from
him?  There was still so much he didn't remember.
     "It leaves many unanswered questions?" the Vulcan said as
if they were still mind linked and she could read his thoughts.
     "Yeah. . . .I think I better ask the captain for a conference
meeting right away."
     "I shall join you."
         ***

     "Sir, I firmly believe that it is safe to send a crew through
the wormhole to investigate this matter," La Forge said after he
had apprized the captain of what they'd learned during the last
mind meld.  He was sitting in the captain's ready room with Riker
and Dr. Selar.  "I volunteer for such a mission.  Obviously, further
contact with the aliens could trigger more memories."
     Geordi cleared his throat, hoping to release some of the
uneasiness he felt.  He knew that as a Starfleet officer, it was his
duty to perform any mission necessary for the unity of the
Federation, but he couldn't help feeling as though he was walking
back into the lion's den.
     "Dr. Selar, do you agree with Mr. La Forge?"
     "It would be a most prudent move.  We must take the
advantage before a potential battle is waged."
     "Then you believe we should assume these aliens are
hostile?"
     "Considering their apparent handling of Commander La
Forge, I do not believe it would be logical to assume otherwise."
     "Captain, if their intentions were hospitable, then why
didn't they just make face to face contact with us? 
     "That may be a valid point," the captain conceded as he
rubbed his beard, "but remember we have encountered technically
advanced xenophobes in the past.  I'll inform Admiral Wilson of
this memory before we send out an away team.   I'm fairly sure of
his response already.  He'll want us to send a shuttlecraft  through
the wormhole.  Begin making preparations--You're going back
through the wormhole, Geordi.  Assemble a minimal away team."
     La Forge was grinning despite his queasy stomach.  "Sir, I'd
like to make another recommendation.  I think a runabout would
be best suited for this mission.  It's relatively small, so not so
easily
detectable, but also large enough to accommodate several crew
members for this mission."
     "I'll present that recommendation to the admiral as well." 
He turned to the Vulcan.  "Doctor, is there anything else you
would like to add before I contact Wilson?"
     "Only one further observation, Captain.  It is possible that
Commander La Forge came out of his ordeal unharmed, because
he escaped.  We may assume he escaped from his cell on at least
one occasion based on the memory the mind meld unblocked.  It is
a possibility he did so again.  My reason in bringing this matter to
your attention, Captain, is to point out that these aliens will quite
probably be more prepared for our away team's arrival.  If some of
our officers are abducted this time, they may never escape." 
     "Point taken.  I don't see where we have any other option,
but to send an away team over."
     "Neither do I, sir," Geordi agreed.
     The doctor nodded in accord.  They had undertaken
dangerous missions into the unknown before this one.  Their duty
required it.  Hopefully, it wouldn't be their last journey into the
unknown.
         ***

     "We have no idea how long you will be gone," Deanna said
more as a conversation starter than a question.
     "Long enough to complete the mission," Worf replied as he
packed his away bag.  He tried to sound nonchalant in hopes of
making this separation easier for both of them, but even if his wife
were not an empath he did not think he could hide his true feelings
from her.
     The half-Betazed told herself that she would not cry--not
now.  She needed to have a serious conversation with her husband,
and it would not be undermined by tears.
     Worf halted his packing and turned toward his wife.  "I
understand how you feel."  The compassion he projected toward
her was so overwhelming that Deanna could feel the pressure to
burst into tears flooding over her.  She bit at her lip with
determination.  "But you must understand my duty."
     "I do understand.  It's just that I can't bare the thought of
weeks without you, Worf!"
     "I am not looking forward to it as well.  Weeks away from
my family!"  He stepped toward her and wrapped his arms around
her.  "I do not want to miss any of our daughter's growth.  She
could be babbling, rolling over or perhaps even sitting up before I
return.  I was not around for Alexander's first years and I was
looking forward to experiencing that with Shannara."
     "That was not your fault--and neither is this."
     "Even so--"  Worf turned away from Deanna.  Even after
more than a year of marriage, and several months of courtship
before that, the subject of Alexander's mother, K'Ehleyr was a
difficult one for them.   They stared into one another's eyes for a
long moment.  "I'm going to miss you terribly," Worf said.  "I
never knew  I was capable of feeling such loneliness until I opened
myself up to you."
     "It's not very 'Klingon'," she agreed.
     "I realized long ago that I am more than Klingon.
     "That's why I love you so much."
     They fell into each other's arms and into a long intimate
kiss.  Worf wished he had the time to carry her into their bedroom
and make love with her before he had to leave, but the runabout
was scheduled to disembark in only twenty minutes.
     "Commander Data will be sending frequent reports to the
Enterprise via the wormhole," he informed her.  "I am sure the
captain would not mind if I sent you a few private messages."
     "I will look forward to them, but I probably won't receive
them right away, since I am also planning some time away from
the Enterprise."
     Worf was both relieved and shocked to hear this news, and
showed it with his agape mouth.  "Where will you be going?"
     "I'm joining my mother on Betazed."  This received an
affected look from the Klingon.  "I know, I know.  You're thinking
I should have listened to you in the first place.  It just seems
appropriate--now, when it didn't before.  Maybe the vacation will
do Alexander and Shannara some good as well.  Alexander
enjoyed the two weeks he spent on my homeworld during our
honeymoon, and I think he's pretty excited about returning there."
     Worf nodded with relief.  "I will think of you constantly,"
he said, and then kissed her again.  As they embraced, Deanna
prayed that they were not saying goodbye.
         ***

     "Data, Geordi, I want you to avoid going into battle at all
costs," the captain said after his first officer and chief engineer
had
joined him in his ready room.  "Obviously, the runabout won't be
any match for even one of their ships."
     "Of course, sir," the android replied.  "I will attempt to
initiate contact and request a peaceful exchange."
     "My main objective is to get back my memory and
hopefully obtain a little information about them along the way," La
Forge said.  
     "Good.  I think you're--"
     "Sir," Ensign Tanner interrupted over the comm.  "The
Lexington has just arrived."
     "The Lexington?"  Riker looked at Data as though his first
officer would know why Captain Porter would choose to show up
now.
     They stepped out on the bridge and look at the ship on the
viewscreen.
     "They are hailing us, sir," Tanner said.
     "On screen."
     "Captain, good to see you again," Porter said.
     "Likewise.  But why have you shown up here?"
     "I have a special request.  One of my officers would like to
join your away team.   I've already taken the liberty of having it
approved by Starfleet."  Ensign Autumn Raines walked into view. 
"I do hope you don't mind."
     Riker did not even attempt to hide the smirk that broadened
his face.  "Not at all.  Riker to Transporter Room Three."
     "Chalker here."
     "Prepare to beam one aboard."
     "Aye, sir."
         ***

     The away team boarded the runabout Huron at the
scheduled hour with one exception--Lieutenant Berlitz.  Everyone
began placing what belongings they'd brought with them in the
small temporary quarters assigned to them.  Data was about to
page Berlitz when she finally arrived with an away bag across her
shoulder.
     "I'm really sorry that I'm late, sir," she apologized.  "It's
just
that my son--"
     "You were given adequate time to prepare, Lieutenant,"
Data interrupted. Everyone turned to stare at Berlitz, and to her
relief, Data's expression softened.   "Nevertheless, I will overlook
this matter.  Be prepared to leave the docking bay in five minutes."
     "Aye, sir."  She did not hide her smile as she walked past
Commander Data.
     "How is your son doing?" Worf asked, swiveling in his
chair at tactical.
     Berlitz was a bit taken aback by the question coming from
a Klingon, but then she remembered that the commander had an
infant daughter.  "Toby is fine, but he's too young to understand
why his mommy has to leave him.  He's frightened that I won't be
coming back."  A solemn silence passed between them.  "I only
hope he's wrong."  She turned to walk through the doorway and
down the corridor to her quarters, so she could put her belongings
away before they set off through the wormhole.
     
     Acting Captain's Log, Stardate 50467.  Commander Data
reporting.  My away team has boarded the USS Reliant and are
proceeding toward the as yet unnamed wormhole discovered by
the Lexington at quarter impulse speed.  We will exit the wormhole
through the pocket labeled as three-two-six-nine.   This is the same
pocket Commander Geordi La Forge ventured through on Stardate
49951.   We are hopeful that we will encounter the aliens
responsible for his disappearance and are taking all precautions
to ensure that any hostile will be neutralized.  

     "Five seconds until we enter the wormhole," Berlitz said. 
"Four...three. ."  
     "I don't think I'll ever get over how beautiful it is," Raines
said.  "This is the moment I've been living for."
     "Two. . .one. . .!"
     The wormhole loomed before them, and suddenly, their
screen was filled with a bright light as they entered the wormhole. 
Data noticed the tension in Berlitz' neck as she navigated them
toward pocket three-two-six-nine.
     "Relax, Lieutenant," the android said.  "We will come out
of this successfully."
     "I just hope my memory wasn't faulty," La Forge said in a
low voice.  This brought a nervous glance from Berlitz.  "The
runabout will make it through," he added with determination. 
"Just go about it as slow as you need to, to feel comfortable,
Lieutenant."
     "Slowing to one hundred kilometers per second,
Commander," Berlitz said, her voice a bit shaky.  
     "That is acceptable," the acting captain replied. 
     Raines stepped up to the ops console to monitor any
changes in the pocket's stability.  "The wormhole appears
integrally sound," she told the group.
     "Shields are at maximum efficiency," Worf reported.
     The others stared silently, tensely at the viewscreen as
Berlitz navigated the ship ever so slowly through the pocket.  Data
believed the validity of his friends' memory and yet he clutched
anxiously at the arms of his chair as the pocket slowly expanded to
let the ship through.  
     "The pocket has expanded to nearly forty meters in
diameter," Berlitz informed. "It's remarkable!  The surrounding
wormholes have shrunk and yet show no signs of collapsing. 
Pocket is now forty-five meters in diameter and continuing to
expand."
     No one among them needed to be told of that fact, for they
were all staring at the viewscreen watching the spectacular
phenomenon unfold before them.  They glided through the
enlarged opening, more aware of the actual distance of the
wormhole than if they had been traveling at warp speed.   
     "Shields holding," Worf said.
     Then finally, they exited on the other side near a four-
planet solar system.  Behind them, the pocket retracted to its
normal size, making a distinguishable slapping sound.
     Geordi howled with glee, and Berlitz favored him with a
prideful glance. 
     "Shield fluctuation. . .negligible," Worf reported.
     "Well done, Lieutenant," their acting captain told Berlitz
with a smile.
     "We are in the Delta Quadrant," Berlitz said, reading her
console, almost fifty-seven thousand light years from our previous
location.  Scanning for life signs."  After a moment she added, 
"No class-m planets.  One class-k planet shows signs of non-
sentient life.  Sensors indicate no ships in the immediate area." 
She swivelled in her chair.  "Your orders, sir?"
     They could all relax now that they knew the pockets did
actually expand and that no immediate threat had presented itself. 
Yet Data had expected to find the aliens waiting for them in this
system and he suspected, by their expressions, that his team had as
well.
     "Maintain an all-stop and continue scanning for ships.  If
they return, they could be upon us rather quickly."
     "Recommend that we move at least another twenty-
thousand kilometers away from the pocket," Raines suggested. 
"As you said, sir, they can be upon us quickly, and most likely they
will come through the pocket, heading directly toward us."
     "Agreed.  Berlitz, take us toward the third planet at full
impulse and maintain standard orbit."
     "Aye, sir."
     Data turned toward his best friend.  "Geordi, perhaps these
aliens decided that they had obtained everything they could from
you and returned to their homeworld."
     "Wherever that is," La Forge replied.  "I have to admit that
I foolishly expected that their homeworld would be in this system. 
We can't investigate every solar system in the galaxy with class-m
planets, looking for them.  They could be thousands of light years
from here by now.  There's millions of inhabitable planets
throughout the galaxy.  If only we could narrow it down--"
     "We can, of course!" the android exclaimed, jumping up
from his chair.  
     Geordi was sure he could hear his friend slipping into the
Sherlock Holmes persona and prepared himself for one of Data's
long spiels of deduction.
     "We need only expend the amount of time required to send
probes through each pocket," Data continued, "until we discover
another region of the galaxy occupied by the crafts of the same
make our earlier probe detected."  
     "Of course, sir," Raines chimed in.  "That would be a most
excellent method of elimination and also a great opportunity to
collect further data on this phenomenon.  I could note any
discrepancies between pockets and create a mapping system.  If
those pockets were strategically placed--and I assume they are--
this could be a means by which to traverse the entire galaxy.  Trips
that once required decades could now only take weeks or even
days."
     "Yes, I share your enthusiasm, Ensign.  Mapping as you go
along is prudent, but we must not assume that this wormhole can
be ours to use freely indefinitely.  We must remember that we are
here in search of the very creatures who invented this wormhole. 
If we do not have their permission to continue accessing their
wormhole, then we must abandon it."
     "Understood, sir," Raines replied, not covering her
disappointment.  "The Prime Directive has been drilled into me
since I was four years old."
     Data was beginning to understand why she was so
embarrassed around her grandfather.   He walked up to stand just
behind Worf. "Commander, we have eight probes in our launching
bay.   See that the probes are continuously launched and retrieved
until you have either discovered the location of the creators of this
wormhole or have exhausted the search parameters."
     "Aye, sir," the Klingon replied.  He began punching in the
coordinates of selected pockets with enthusiasm.
     Although there was nothing yet for her to study, Raines
joined Worf.  Looking at the image of the large wormhole on their
small screen, they began strategically planning the order they
would probe the pockets.
     "There are  pockets," Data said calmly as he returned to his
chair.  "The longest it could take to find the correct pocket is
eight-
hundred-twenty-point-seven-five hours."
     "But that's weeks, Data," Geordi said.
     "Roughly thirty-four-point-two days, my friend."
     "Let's hope it's one of the first few we try."
     "Commander," Raines piped in, "if you don't mind my
speaking freely."  La Forge nodded his approval.  "I believe it is
very important that we establish a mapping system for these
pockets.  It may take weeks, but it will be time well spent."
     "Point taken," Geordi said, admiring her brass.  He could
see the same enthusiasm for her work in her face as he so often
had felt for his own.  She had a promising future in Starfleet ahead
of her.
     "Launching first probe," Worf told them and continued to
inform them as each one was launched.
     "Berlitz, send a subspace message to the Enterprise," Data
ordered.  "Inform them that we have made it safely to the Delta
Quadrant, and that we are currently conducting a mapping of the
pockets in search of the alien creators."
     "Aye, Commander."
     "Since this will take a while, we need something to occupy
our time," the acting captain said.  "Lieutenant, how familiar are
you with the game of poker?"
     Berlitz shrugged apologetically and replied, "I am a quick
learner."
         ***

     A response from the Enterprise arrived less than six hours
later, Their plans to probe for the correct pocket had been
approved by Starfleet.  A request by Captain Riker to send the
Enterprise through a pocket, however, was denied.  Under Admiral
Wilson's orders, it was decided that such an option was too risky. 
They had no way of measuring the exact limitations of the pockets'
expansion capability.
     Several times the probes returned, all with new information
to add to Starfleet's databanks.  Yet sixteen days and as many
poker games went by before they discovered the correct pocket. 
The pocket they had designated as fifteen-hundred and twelve
clearly led to the alien's homeworld--or at least apparently
somewhere close.  The sector was swarming with their starships.  
     Now the trouble was in figuring out how they, in a
runabout with a crew of only five,  were going to deal with a fleet
of potentially hostile aliens.
     The small crew manned their stations in preparation for
their mission.  "Berlitz, take us through pocket fifteen-hundred and
twelve," Data ordered.
     "Aye, sir.  Setting course at one hundred kilometers per
second."
     "Let's hope their friendly," Geordi said as they glided
forward.

     Chapter Fifteen:

     To say Data was holding his breath as they traveled through
pocket fifteen-hundred and twelve did not mean anything, since he
did not need to breathe to survive.  Nonetheless, he felt every bit of
the same tension as his crew  as they held their breath around him. 
      When they exited the wormhole, their sensors immediately
picked up three alien ships in the immediate vicinity, one
considerably larger than the other two.  Data ordered Berlitz to
magnify their image on the viewscreen.  The contour of the alien
saucer section consisted of a broad backside that angled into a
narrow front.
     "Hail them," the acting captain ordered.
     The larger ship is responding," Worf said.
     "Greetings," said a Humanoid who appeared on the screen. 
He had a heavily creased forehead, a long nose that widened
considerably at the nasal, and a thin mouth.  He wore a portion of
his hair up with what looked like chop sticks, while he allowed the
remainder to flow to his shoulders.  "I am Quain, captain of this
vessel, known as the Emblem, from the planet Akie.  We've been
expecting you."
     Data and La Forge exchanged questioning glances.
     "I am Commander Data representing the United Federation
of Planets," Data said as he stood and walked closer to the
viewscreen.  "You sound almost gleeful to see us.  We have come
to your space out of curiosity.  We are peaceful explorers and wish
you no harm.  It is our hope that you do not perceive our arrival as
an intrusion."
     "Not at all.  It is natural to be curious about others.  My
people have been exploring the Delta Quadrant and portions of the
Gamma Quadrant for centuries.    We have learned that your
people are much like us through our observations.  A recent
technologic development among my people, as you well know, has
opened up both the Alpha and Beta Quadrants to our explorations. 
We hope to one day soon venture into other galaxies."
     "By 'observation' are you admitting that you had this man
sitting behind me, Commander Geordi La Forge, in your custody
for several months?"
     "We do indeed.  It was quite necessary I assure you.  We
meant neither him, nor your people any harm."
     "Then what was the purpose of abducting him?  You could
have contacted our people and requested from them whatever
knowledge you were seeking.  Is it customary for your people to
abduct those you wish to study?"
     "The circumstances are not as simple as it must seem to
you.   My government felt they had no choice."
     "You returned Geordi to us in one of our own escape pods. 
How did you obtain it?"
     "That was not an easy task."  
     He turned to consult with one of his subordinates, a tall
thin man with short hair.  The other seemed displeased that his
captain was even speaking with the Starfleet officers.  The captain
pointed toward a console chair, and his officer reluctantly sat
down. 
     "My apologies," Quain said to Data.  "My officer and I
were debating whether we should reveal how our people obtained
your escape pod.  I have decided to tell you that it required a
cloaked mission."
     Data was surprised that the Akodian was admitting so
readily that they possessed a cloaking technology.  "Why did you
bother?  Why not simply return Geordi in the class-eight probe he
came in?  Or did you wish to keep that in order to study the
technology?"
     "My people did not want your officer to remember our
world.  They decided he was less likely to break the memory block
if he were to believe that he had arrived in an escape pod.  
Obviously, the memory block didn't keep anyway, since you are
here.  That matters little now.  I had my suspicions that it would
not.  From what I  hear, your people are very resourceful.  Many of
my superiors realized that and agreed that someone should monitor
this wormhole for your potential arrival.  I was honored when I
learned the duty was to be mine."  He hesitated for a long moment,
obviously deliberating over whether to offer further information. 
"I have a source that has informed me that we were only several
Pelvars from making direct contact with your Federation.  We
assure you that our purpose is not to steal any of your technology. 
We are explorers like you."
     "Then you deny having studied the class-eight probe or the
phaser Geordi was carrying at the time you abducted him?"
     "To deny such would be a lie.  I merely meant that we
never intended to steal anything from your people.  We simply
needed to study you--or rather your physical make up."
     "Are you saying you wish to study us like laboratory
animals?"
     "No. . .No. . .It is probably not my place to tell you, but you
must know.  We know what happened to your ship known as
Stargazer."  The alien bowed his head, apparently ashamed to look
the commander in the eyes. 
     Data glanced back at his crew, gauging their reactions. 
Worf was barely containing a growl.  Did he suspect that the
Stargazer had been lost in battle? Data wondered.  Geordi
appeared solemn, while Berlitz and Raines expressed pure shock. 
Not sure what he was feeling, perhaps a mixture of his crew's
emotions, Data turned back toward the viewscreen.
      "We were....responsible," the Akodian captain admitted. 
"It was purely an accident.  Your Stargazer crew encountered one
of our artificial wormholes that hadn't been stabilized yet.  We
want to make amends, but we were not sure that regeneration was
possible.  You see, it so often isn't and in a case when we're
dealing with more than a thousand lives--well, we must consider
our options carefully."
     "I do not fully understand you.  What is this regeneration
you speak of?"
     "It would be easier explained if you permit us to beam your
small crew onto our ship.  We can transport you to our homeworld. 
We have facilities that will aid you in understanding far better than
mere words could."
     "Allow me to confer with my officers.  I will give you my
answer in two minutes."
     "Very well."  Their communication link was severed.
     At that moment, Data wished desperately that Deanna had
been able to join their away mission.  She would have been able to
surmise from the alien's emotional state whether he was sincere or
not.
     "Suggestions?" he asked the group.
     "I do not trust him," Worf replied.  "He has too much to
hide.  How do we know that they didn't purposely destroy the
Stargazer and that this is not now a trick to lure us in so they can
obtain even more information from us?"
     "He sounded sincere to me," Berlitz said.  
     "It sounds as though they are far more technologically
advanced in temporal mechanics than we are," Raines pointed out. 
"That is if this regenerative technology of their's is what I'm
thinking it is.  Sir, do you think its possible that they discovered a
way to bring back the dead?"
     "Even with the best intentions such a superior power could
be quite dangerous.  However, I cannot deny that given the power I
wouldn't at least consider using it to bring back Captain Picard and
his crew.  He meant a lot to me, both as a mentor and a friend."
     "Even though I haven't yet remembered much of what they
did to me," Geordi began, "my gut tells me to trust them. "
     "Very well.  Geordi and I will board their ship.  If you do
not hear from us within forty-eight hours, you are to consider the
Akodians hostile and to return to Federation space."
     "Sir," Worf intercepted, "I must insist that you allow me to
accompany you.  You need a security officer present while dealing
with these aliens.  We cannot yet rule out a hostile intent."
     "That is a valid point.  You may accompany us."  He turned
toward his female officers.  "In the meantime, Ensign Raines, you
may continue your mapping."
     "Thank you, sir," the ensign replied, smiling broadly.
     "Lieutenant Berlitz, assist her as necessary."  Swiveling to
face the tactical officer, he said, "Open hailing frequencies, Mr.
Worf."
     "Aye, sir," the Klingon replied.  "Hailing frequencies
open."
     "Alien vessel, this is Commander Data."
     Captain Quain immediately responded, appearing on the
viewscreen.  "Greetings.  Have you reached a decision?"
     "We have indeed.  We have decided to accept your offer. 
Commanders La Forge, Worf, and I will beam aboard your ship in
five minutes if that is convenient with you."
     The alien smiled broadly.  "Ah good.  Hail us again when
you are ready."  He disconnected their link.
     After they had their belongings repacked in their away
bags, Data informed the Akodian captain that they were ready, and
a moment later, the three officers dematerialized and reappeared
on an alien platform.
     Like the outer hull of the ship, the transporter room took on
the same angular design, narrow on the end of the transporter
platform and wider on the other end where the controls could be
found.
     "Greetings," said a female Akodian as she stepped away
from her console.  "I am Zee Zeta.  Allow me to show you to main
control where our captain awaits you."
     Data and Worf followed the technician through a door to
the left of her console, while Geordi lagged behind for a moment. 
He wanted to take in every centimeter of this craft.  The corridors
did not curve as the ones found on the Enterprise, but rather
angled every twenty meters.  Geordi hoped that something about
this ship would spark a memory.  None came, which made him
feel all the more leery about trusting these people.
     La Forge caught up with them and leaning toward Data,
whispered, "Do you get the impression that they're being just a
little too friendly, a little too cooperative?"
     "I am not sure, but if your memories are accurate, it would
seem so," his friend replied.  "Still, let us not be too quick to
judge."
     They entered a clear plastic tube similar in appearance to
the turbolifts on the Enterprise only smaller.  The three of them
could barely squeeze inside it.  Geordi also took special note that
they had walked a considerable distance before reaching the
turbolift.  On any Federation starship, one could reach a turbolift
access every forty meters or so.
      "Recognize Zee Zeta top clearance, level two," the
technician said.  "Destination main control."
     "Clearance acknowledged," a computerized voice said. 
The shaft sprung into action, accompanied by a grinding hum.
     Geordi watched with a dizzying effect as the shaft went
from level to level.  He wondered why the aliens had designed a
see-through shaft.  What purpose did it serve other than to give
them headaches?  A minute later, the single door swished open to
admit them into main control.  
     Quite obviously, this room served the same purpose as the
Enterprise's bridge.  Several Akodian officers, all standing, were
monitoring various ship functions around the room.  On the
viewscreen, Geordi noticed the Huron only a few kilometers away. 
He knew it was vulnerable and could not survive an attack from
this ship.  He prayed these people truly wanted to help them.
     "Greetings," a young male Akodian at one of the stations
said as he turned to glance at them.  
      La Forge was beginning to get annoyed with their insipid
salutation.   They were behaving as though they had never violated
him!
     "They seem too eager to please us," Worf mumbled so only
his fellow officers could hear, voicing the same doubts that Geordi
felt.
     "Ah, Commander Data.  Good!  Good! " the captain said as
he approached them.  "We Akodians are also explorers as I stated
earlier.  The best part of our jobs is making new contacts. 
However, I do regret the circumstances that have brought you to
us."  Quain glanced quickly at La Forge before continuing.  "After
I've shown you our regenerative database, hopefully you will begin
to understand why this was all necessary."  he turned toward his
technician.  "Thank you, Zeta.  You are dismissed."  He then
gestured toward a door, inviting his guests inside.
     They followed him into the room, Worf insisting that he
enter first, where they found the ship's computer library.  The
captain activated a large viewscreen and instructed, "Computer,
provide us with a general description of the regenerative process. 
Recognize Tozar Quain, top clearance, level one."
     "Clearance acknowledged. . . . The regenerative process
invented on two-hundred and sixteen cycles after pelvar three-
four-three-seven is a form of time splitting, which enables lost
crew members to be regenerated after fatal accidents."
     The three guests from the Huron exchanged shocked
glances.  Had these aliens really brought them here because they
believed they could bring the Stargazer crew back to life? 
Although they had already considered the notion back on the
Huron, La Forge couldn't understand how such a thing could be
possible.  Nonetheless, having served as a member of Starfleet for
many years and having witnessed countless new phenomena, he
was open to just about anything.
     "Previous regenerative subjects have had no knowledge of
the passing of time from the moment of death until the moment of
regeneration," the computer continued to drone on. 
"Regeneration must occur no less than .35 Pelvars after present
time and has been successful in subjects deceased up to four
hundred and fifty-five Pelvars.  One attempt on a subject deceased
five hundred and three days failed.  Most regenerative projects
have involved one to three individuals.  There has been only one
case of a ship-wide regeneration.  Although the regeneration was
successful, seventy-six percent of the crew members suffered
physical and/or psychological side-effects as a result of the mass
trauma.  Recommendation by Arbiter Dregoni:  Avoid ship-wide
regeneration and limit regeneration to no more than five.  End of
entry."
     "You bring those who have died honorably back to life?"
the Klingon said in an accusing tone.
     "They sacrifice their lives for the good of their people,"
Quain replied compassionately.  "Many of them spend years 
working so their people may benefit in the long run.  Giving them
a second chance at life is the least our government can do."
     "How does this regeneration technology work?" Data
asked.
     "I am not permitted to tell you that under penalty of the
Direct Code.  However, let it be sufficient that you know it
involves the folding of space."
     Data nodded with understanding.  "My people have a
similar law, the Prime Directive, which prevents us from sharing
our technologies with less-developed or non-aligned cultures."
     "I am delighted that you will not press the matter.  Our
dealings will be more cordial that way."
     "Our people did not discover the remains of Stargazer until
several months after her disappearance.  Do you know why?"
     "Yes.  The debris was trapped inside a collapsed wormhole
until a scientific team was available to cleanse the wormhole.  It's
a very delicate matter, and we wanted to be sure that no more lives
were lost."
     "I don't understand why you thought it was necessary to
abduct me for several months," Geordi said, a touch of animosity
in his voice.  "Direct Code or not, I think you better have an
answer for that one!"
     "We had to determine if your people are physiologically
compatible with our regeneration process.  Our tests on you
provided us with good news."
     "That still does not make it right by our standards," Worf
said.  "We prefer to make new contact face to face."
     "Every Federation starship has members of several
different species," Geordi said.  "Representatives from at least a
dozen planets were on board the Stargazer.  So you see, there is no
way that your tests on me could prove that your regeneration
technology could be successful on everyone who was aboard that
ship."
     The captain demonstrated frustration for a moment.  He
clearly did not know how to react.  "My worst fear is that this
could all be for naught.  My main objective and that of my
government really is to help your people, whether you believe me
or not.   For the most part, my people are a peaceful, inquisitive
race.  We do not wish to destroy life.  Quite the opposite!  We
wish to enhance it.  But if there is that much variance in your crew
personnel, we will probably never convince the arbiter that
regeneration is the most appropriate course of action in this case.  
     Again, Data and Geordi glanced questioningly at each
other.  "Would it be possible for us to talk with the arbiter?" Data
asked.
     "Of course.  We can schedule a hearing for tomorrow.  As
our computer has already reported, however, there has been only
one attempt at a ship-wide regeneration--and the results were quite
unfavorable.  Its entire crew roster were Akodians.  We know the
physiology of our own people well, and yet it took many of the
victims months to fully recover from the ordeal.  A second petition
for a ship-wide regeneration was recently denied and its entire
crew was also Akodian."
     "That does not bare favorably on the Stargazer crew," Worf
grumbled.  "We have friends aboard, and I do not wish to see them
suffer needlessly."
     "I assure you that they are not suffering at the moment.  If
they were to be regenerated, they would have no recollection of
the time in between their deaths and their regeneration."
     "It is the time after regeneration that concerns me," Worf
growled.
     "However," Data interjected, "we still wish to consider the
option."  He gave Worf a non-verbal warning and the Klingon
backed down.
     "You said you recently lost one of your own ships.  How
was it destroyed?" La Forge asked.
     "In much the same way as your Stargazer," Quain replied. 
"The only difference being that its crew knew the risks they were
taking.  They went through a newly formed pocket that
unfortunately proved unstable.  It collapsed around them, killing
all personnel on board immediately."
     "Has this been a frequent occurrence?" Data inquired.
     "We have formed nearly four thousand pocket wormholes
and only three have been unstable.  The losses of three ships and
their crews are most unfortunate, but three failures against the
numerous successes are extremely good odds."
     "The Ferengi Marauder," Data mused.  "Have your people
considered regenerating its crew as well?"
     "Indeed, that option was presented to my government. 
Unfortunately, we were unable to obtain any medical data on the
alien race that ship belonged to."
     "You mean, abduct one of them," La Forge said coolly.
     Quain eyed the engineer nervously, but did not verbally
acknowledge the comment.  "It is too late for the. . . .Ferengi? 
Nearly five hundred pelvars have passed since their destruction."
     "How much time do we have left to save the Stargazer
crew?" Data asked.
     "Not much, I'm afraid."
         ***

     The captain led the three Starfleet officers inside a building
and into a large crowded room.  All the seats were taken and many
people were still left standing, while more continued to pour in. 
An elderly Akodian was repetitiously sounding a gong.  
     They had arrived on the planet's surface only a short while
ago after less than a five hour trip on board the Emblem.  Quain
had delighted in giving them a tour personally, and even Worf's
doubts of their intentions was beginning to wane. 
     Akie, as its natives referred to it, had a pleasant atmosphere
by human standards and appeared to have many intriguing
recreational activities.  Data only wished they had time to enjoy
some of them.
     Shooing a few Akodians out of second-row chairs, the
captain provided the Starfleet officers with seats.
     The doors were closed only a minute later, and the gong
stopped.  "Time court is now closed for visitors," one of the
Akodians at the door bellowed.
     "All persons please note," the arbiter said, "that this time
court has come into session at eight-oh-five after dawn on the fifth
cycle after pelvar three-four-six-two.  Anti-counsel Frei, please
state your argument against the regeneration of alien craft
Federation USS Stargazer, class Nova."
     Frei stood and approached the arbiter.  "The Federation
starship, USS Stargazer, entered an area of space where our
government was in the midst of creating a new wormhole pocket. 
No craft can go through a pocket while it is being stabilized! 
Whether purposely or accidentally, the Stargazer did just that,
killing its entire crew.
     "There are no available videos from any of the deceased, so
I can make no comments regarding their own personal wishes.  It
is my contention that without said videos, we cannot petition for
regeneration in this case under code R1-36."
     "Objection, arbiter," Pro-counsel said suddenly standing. 
All heads turned toward him, many with their mouths agape.
     "This is highly unusual," the captain whispered to Data. 
"Very rarely are objections made during a regeneration hearing."
     "Please state your objection," the arbiter said calmly.
     "The video requirements must be overruled for these
people.  Since they are not Akodian and thus don't possess the
regenerative technology, they could not foresee any need for such
videos."
     "I will take that into consideration," Dregoni said.  He
turned toward Frei.  "Proceed, anti-counsel."
     "There are other arguments, sir," Frei continued.  "We don't
know beyond any doubt how people from their Federation would
react to the knowledge of this technology.  Will their need to
possess it cause hostile relations between our people?  We have
evidence that they are not a single race as we are, but many diverse
species.  Regeneration may work on some, but could it possibly
prove successful on all their different species?  We've already
witnessed its effects on an Akodian crew.  The negative
consequences of regenerating an alien crew  far outweigh the
positive ones.  Anti-counsel passes for debate."
     The counsels switched places and pro-counsel cleared his
throat before addressing the arbiter.  "Sir, you must rule in favor of
regeneration in this case.  The fact that the victims were not
Akodian should not hinder the process, but rather deem it
necessary.  We must consider further the matter that Akodians
were responsible for these wrongful deaths."
     Data suddenly stood and asked, "May I inquire as to why
your people continue to practice this regenerative technology when
there is a high ratio of psychological trauma among subjects of
regeneration?"
     "That is a highly unusual interruption," the arbiter
responded.  He did not seem the least bit angry.  "But then
everything about this case is highly unusual."  He paused,
obviously in thought.  "I will allow an answer from the pro-
counsel."
     Pro-counsel nodded with pleasure.  "Thank you, sir. "  He
turned to face the audience, directing eye contact at Commander
Data, who had returned to his seat.   "Nothing is more painful than
the loss of a loved one, especially if the loved one was young and
vital.  Our government must take full responsibility for casualties
lost during military actions whenever it is feasable.  They are
taking on the responsibility.  It is my job to insure that they
continue to do so."
     The audience seemed satisfied with the pro-council's
explanation.  Data, however, had a strong sense that the Akodians
based their laws and beliefs on a weak philosophy.  Perhaps many
of them struggled with such concepts as he had during his
Academy days.
     "Sir, it would clearly be an injustice," pro-counsel
continued, turning toward the arbiter, "to allow this matter to
remain unresolved.  An attempt to regenerate these people needs to
be made."  He hesitated for a moment, allowing his words to sink
in, and then said, "Pro-counsel passes for further debate."
     "As further argument," Frei said standing, "consider that
rehabilitation for these people would be difficult if not impossible. 
The Federation would require our assistance for many cycles.  We
cannot, sir, realistically extend ourselves that thin.  Rehabilitation
would require continuous wormhole travel between the Akodians
and the Federation.  Do we want to grant the Federation continued
access to our wormhole?  To our technology?"
     "Your questions, anti-counsel, are certainly ones deserving
of careful consideration.  I shall do just that and render my
decision as soon as possible.  This time court is hereby closed for
debate."
     The gong began to sound again as people filtered out of the
courtroom.
     "What does this mean?" Data asked the captain.  "How
long will the arbiter keep this under consideration?"
     "It could take many cycles," the captain replied.
     "But you said no one has been regenerated beyond four-
hundred and fifty-five cycles.  The Stargazer  was destroyed
several months ago."
     "I know.  We are dealing with a tight time line, aren't we?"

     Chapter Sixteen:
     
     There was not much worse to a Klingon than being forced
to wait!  Although he spent the time in the holographic calisthenics
program he had brought with him (now transferred onto a
compatible Akodian media), Worf could not take the fate of the
Stargazer crew off his mind.  As he sliced through one alien, he
realized that he was not even sure which way he wanted the arbiter
to decide.  A Klingon who adhered firmly to his people's beliefs
would have proclaimed that only one decision could hold any
honor:  They must not mess with fate.  Dead is dead! he thought as
another alien pummeled him from behind.  Worf swivelled and
slashed the alien across the neck with his bat'leth.
       Yet Worf had long ago learned to accept, even embrace,
many of the human philosophies.  He could not stop thinking about
what it would be like if Captain Picard returned.  Not only had the
man stood by Worf during times of need, but had also stood as a
role model, someone for Worf to look up to and admire.  A father
figure.  Would Worf have ever regained his honor among his
people if Picard hadn't stood beside him?  he often wondered--and
doubted.
     He was not too proud to admit that he had needed Captain
Picard.  Still needed him.  So why was he unable to curtail the
nagging ambivalence over the captain's possible return from the
dead?
     Because he could not forget that he was a Klingon!  Above
all else, they believed in an honorable death.
     He killed the last two aliens as effortlessly as the first two. 
Debating whether or not to instruct the computer to begin a new
game at the next level, he spent a moment trying to clear his
muddled head.  Instead, his mind wandered to the day Captain
Picard had stood beside him inside the High Councel.  Picard had
been proud--even honored--to remain beside his officer at the
moment Worf's discommendation was handed down.  Worf was
glad that Picard had also been there at the moment his honor was
restored.
     Then he began wishing that Picard could see his daughter. 
That the man could know the happiness that he felt.
     "This game is becoming too easy for me," Worf
proclaimed, tossing his holographic bat'leth aside.  "It is time for
an even greater challenge."
     Exiting the alien holodeck, Worf did not bother to remove
the program chip.  Let some other fool find it and meet its
challenge.

     Deanna stared out the dining-room window of her mother's
house on Betazed.   The sun felt good on her face.  She felt good,
she realized with a smile.  How long had it been since she had
smiled?
     She noticed Alexander walking down the road toward the
house, coming back from a field game with other children.  He
waved at her and picked up his pace.  She was glad that she had
persuaded him away from his video games long enough to make
friends with some of the other children in the area.  A few years on
a starship had deprived him of natural fresh air and sunshine.
     And Deanna had not realized how cooped up she had
begun to feel in the confines of a starship until she arrived on
Betazed.  It had been a year and a half since she and Worf had
taken their honeymoon.  Slowly, she was feeling better about
herself, motherhood and even separation from her husband.   Did
the distance away from the wormhole or the return to her
childhood home have anything to do with her renewed good
spirits?  She suspected it was a little of both.
     Alexander reached the door and it swished open to admit
him.  "Good afternoon, Sok'cheim.  Are you feeling any better?"
     She smiled at the boy.  "Much better, thank you.  When
Shannara awakens from her nap, would you like to go for a
picnic?"
     "Really?"
     "Really."
     "I was beginning to think you didn't like doing that sort of
thing anymore."
     "So was I," Deanna admitted. " And it's high time to put an
end to that."  Suddenly realizing that she felt better than she had in
months, Deanna tilted her head back and let out a hearty Betazoid
laugh.
     "I'll prepare the food," Alexander volunteered.  "You read a
good book, take a bubble bath."
     "Why, thank you.  What a respectable young man you're
turning into."
     "Just don't tell me that I'm behaving honorably," the boy
said, rolling his eyes.
     "Now don't let your father ever hear you say that."  She
ruffled his hair before leaving to check on the baby and to select a
new book to read.


     When they returned from their picnic, Lwaxana was
waiting for them in the den.  Deanna sensed her mother's solemn
mood and knew that something was wrong.  Had she received a
message from Worf?  Even worse, had news come that Starfleet
had lost contact with the Huron crew?
     "Please, take Shannara up to her crib," she told Alexander,
handing the infant to the boy.
     Once Alexander had started upstairs, Deanna approached
her mother.
     Prepare yourself, Little One, Lwaxana said telepathically.
     He's not-- she couldn't even bring herself to ask.
     Dead?  No, Deanna.  Lwaxana smiled apologetically and
said aloud, "I'm sorry for giving you that impression, dear.  Your
husband is still in good health.  It's just that his message is a
little
bit unsettling.  I'm still trying to comprehend the possibility
myself."
     "You listened to Worf's message before I got a chance! 
Mother!  Let me have the data chip."  She held out her hand for it,
and her mother reached into her pocket to pull out the isolinear
chip and hand it to Deanna.  "I'm going to my room," Deanna said
adamently, "to listen to Worf's message--in private!"  She turned
and stomped up the stairs.  By the time she'd reached the landing,
anxiety had overcome her anger, and she rushed into her room to
plug  the isolinear chip into her computer drive.
     A moment later, Worf's visage filled her monitor.  "My
darling," he said, "I miss you terribly."  He paused, seemingly
reluctant to give her whatever news he had.  "It appears as though
we will still be a while on this side of the galaxy, about forty-five
thousand light years from Betazed.  Lieutenant Berlitz and Ensign
Raines, have remained aboard the Huron  while Commanders
Data, La Forge, and I have traveled to the planet of Akie aboard
one of the alien ships.  We have maintained frequent contact with
the Huron and the Enterprise, keeping them updated on our
situation.
     "The aliens in this sector call themselves the Akodians.
Most of them seem friendly enough.  However, I maintain a
cautious vigilance.
     "When we first made contact, the Akodians gave us some
startling news.  They are responsible for the destruction of the
Stargazer.  They were creating a new wormhole pocket in the
location and when the Stargazer inadvertently passed through the
pocket, it caused an implosion."
     Deanna gasped, bringing a shaking hand to her mouth.  She
had thought that she'd placed the deaths of Picard and Beverly
behind her, but this news brought her fresh pain.  She managed to
choke back sobs, so she could finish listening to her husband.
     "....that can regenerate individuals.  I do not understand the
concept fully, but they have developed a technology that allows
them to bring back lost crew members, who have been killed in
accident or battle.  We were permitted inside the courtroom during
the hearing concerning the Stargazer .  The Akodian arbiter is still
considering the matter.  We have been told that if he does not
decide soon, there will be no chance that regeneration will
succeed.
     "That is all the news I have to offer you at this time.  I love
you, my darling.  Sing a song to Shannara for me, and give
Alexander my regards."
     The message ended there, and Deanna removed the chip to
clutch it fervently in her fist.  Could it really be true? she
wondered.  How was it possible that Captain Picard and Beverly
Crusher could be returned to them after so long? 
      It reminded her of a story her father had once told her
when she was very young.  What was the name of it?  She could no
longer remember.  Only that it dealt with a farmer and his wife,
who wished that their dead son could be returned to life.  When
their wish was granted, they opened their front door in horror, for
in the doorway stood their resurrected son still mutilated from the
farming equipment that had killed him.
     Shuddering at the thought of such a horror, Deanna set
down the chip on her console and went to the replicator to order a
hot chocolate.  She needed its soothing warmth to help her calm
down.  
     After she took the first sip, she suddenly remembered, The
Monkey's Paw.  That was the name of the story.  A curled, natty
looking thing, severed from the creature it had belonged to, an
atrosity in and of itself.  Were they really trying to do the right
thing?  Should anyone have the right to bring back the dead?

     Chapter Seventeen:

     "I still say we should demand to speak to their leader,"
Worf said gruffly.  "Sitting here in this--room accomplishes
nothing."
     "We must abide by their laws and customs," Data replied.
     "Even if that means being held like prisoners?" Worf
glanced at La Forge, who turned away from the window and joined
them.
     "Quite frankly, Data, I was beginning to think the same
thing," Geordi said.
     Before the android could reply, the door chime sounded. 
Data walked over to the door and tapped a panel that caused it to
slide upward.  Pro-counsel Thor was standing in the hallway.  "Has
the arbiter reached a decision?" Data asked.
     "No," Thor said, stepping into the room.  "It is getting
dangerously close to the time when regeneration will no longer be
possible for your Stargazer  crew.  That is why I've done
something that I hope you approve of.  There is an Akodian law
that allows me to present a challenge to the arbiter.  He must call a
final hearing this midday and render a decision based on the
evidence gathered thus far and the notes he's written on the matter. 
This does not guarantee his decision but either way, the waiting
will finally be over.  Thor turned toward La Forge.  "I want you to
know that not all Akodians approved of your capture.  The end
result may bring ultimate good, but such an end could have been
brought about by more equable means.
     "If Akie wanted to establish an alliance with the
Federation," Geordi replied, " they're certainly going about it the
wrong way.  Your people have intricate knowledge of some of our
technology, and yet we're expected to sit in this room where we
can witness none of yours while we wait out the fate of our
comrades--the death of whom your people are responsible for!"
     The Akodian bowed his head in shame, but Data came to
his defense.  "Pro-council Thor is on our side.  We should not hold
him responsible for the actions of his government."
     "It is all right," Thor responded.  "I understand his anger
and his need to lash out at someone.  I just happen to conveniently
be available."
     "I'm sorry for my outburst," Geordi said.
     The alien nodded.  "I accept your apology with gratitude
and hope we can become friends."

       ***
     "This is ridiculous," Worf grumbled.  The Akodian arbiter
had ruled that the Federation officers could not be present in the
time court while he made his decision.
     "I tend to agree with you, Mr. Worf," Data said.  "However,
it is their technology and we have no choice but to follow their
rules."
     "Their game, their rules," Geordi quipped.  The engineer
walked away to pace along the hallway where large windows lined
one wall.  At least the Akodians were not keeping them from
having a view of their world.
     Nearly an hour passed.  Data listened to the Klingon's
grumbles with no further comments.  Then finally, pro-counsel
opened the courtroom doors to announce the arbiter's decision.
     "Arbiter has ruled in favor of regeneration of Federation
starship Stargazer."
     "Then they will be brought to our present?" Worf asked.
     "Actually, to our future," Thor responded.  "Quain and his
crew will accompany you back to your space where the procedure
will be conducted in two cycles.  He will instruct you further on a
need to know basis."
     "Is it permissible for us to inquire as to the deciding factor
in the arbiter's decision?" Data asked.
     "My people are worried about future relations with your
people.  I hope that neither side wants to see our peoples go to war. 
And whether or not regeneration of your Stargazer crew proves
successful or not, it is my people's hope that it will be seen as a
gesture of good will."
     "I am sure my superiors will see it that way," Data said
with a nod.   "What of the question posed by anti-counsel Frei
regarding continued Federation access to the wormholes?"
     "That is a matter that must be brought up to the highest
council in our government.  it could take nearly a pelvar for them
to render a decision."
     "And how many cycles are in a pelvar?"  During his stay on
Akie,  Data had already observed that a cycle was twenty-three and
a half hours long.
     "Four hundred and ninety," Thor replied.
     "That is a considerable time, but not unreasonable."
     "Good.  Now you will need to leave the courtroom.  May
you enjoy our planet until Quain is ready to take you back to your
small craft."
     "Thank you for your help, pro-counsel."
         ***


     As Data had wished for earlier, he now found himself with
a little free time before the Emblem's departure.  He, Geordi, and
Worf spent the next few hours enjoying a tour of Akie's most
distinguished sites.  They visited the top of Mount Kuran, fed a
giant Jhagia, a cat-like creature, at the planet's largest zoo, and
walked through the under ground caverns dug out by ancient
Akodians several millennia ago.
     Fortunately, the threesome did not have to wait long after
returning to the departure site for the Akodian captain and they
were soon aboard his ship heading back toward the Huron.  Raines
and Berlitz were both relieved and overjoyed to see them.  They
had nearly finished their survey of the wormhole pockets, but Data
instructed them to discontinue.
     "Until such time that the Akodians agree to permit us
access to their wormholes," the commander said, "we will hereby
cease our investigation."
     "Aye sir," Raines said with understanding, but also
disappointment as well.
     To everyone's surprise, Quain agreed when Data requested
that the Huron be allowed to travel through the wormhole first. 
The Akodian explained with these words: "Let you be our honored
guests, so we shall be yours in your portion of the galaxy."
     The Enterprise was waiting for them just over ten-thousand
kilometers away from the wormhole.  Riker immediately hailed
them.  "It's good to see you, Data," the captain said.  
     "You too, sir," the android replied.  "The Huron is ready to
come aboard."  
     Before Riker could reply, the Akodian ship flew out of the
wormhole and came to an all-stop next to the runabout.  It
immediately hailed the Enterprise and Riker ordered the tactical
officer on duty to answer.  The viewscreen split between the image
of Data and that of the Akodian captain.
     "Greetings, Captain Riker," the alien said.  "I am Captain
Quain of the starship Emblem, representing the Akodian Empire of
the Delta Quadrant.  It has been my pleasure to see your officers
safely back to your quadrant."
     Riker smiled broadly and replied, "On behalf of the United
Federation of Planets, I'd like to welcome you to our little corner
of the galaxy."
     After the runabout had decked, the away team transferred
to the bridge and Riker called a meeting.  "Your honest opinions,"
the captain said, addressing the group.  "Do you believe
regeneration will work?"
     "It is difficult to say yes," Data replied, "with absolute
certainty."
     "I believe it will," La Forge offered.  "From what I've
gathered, this doesn't appear to be a new technology to the
Akodian's.  Whatever failures they've had in the past. . .well,
they're in the past.  The question, I believe, is not whether the
regeneration process will work, but rather whether the crew
members of the Stargazer will suffer any psychological side
effects do to this process."
     If only Deanna were here, Riker thought.  We need her
here to gauge the emotional conditions of those regenerated.  But
then he realized how overwhelming that would be for the half-
Betazed if she were to be exposed to an entire regenerative crew at
the very moment of "rebirth."  Anyway, once the Stargazer crew
appeared, Riker was under orders to escort its crew back to
Starbase Nineteen where they would undergo extensive psychiatric
evaluations.  
     "Sir, there is something else you need to be made aware
of," Data said.  "The Akodian High Council is debating whether or
not to give the Federation full access to their wormholes. 
Unfortunately, they probably will not reach a decision right away."
     "Captain," came the ensign at tactical over the commlink,
"the Akodian ship is hailing us."
     "I'm on my way," Riker replied.  "Thank you, Mr. Data,
Geordi."  He stood and his senior staff followed him out onto the
bridge.  "On screen," he ordered once he'd taken his position.
     "Captain, Greetings," Quain said.  "We are ready to
commence the regeneration process.  You may watch, but I must
warn you that any questions you may pose will go unanswered.  I
am to share none of this technology with your people."
     "Understood."
     "Very well.  We will proceed."  The Akodian severed the
link.
     A few seconds later, as the entire bridge crew stared at the
viewscreen, a purple mist emanated from the hull of the Akodian
craft.  Nothing more seemed to happen.  Whatever the mist was
supposed to do, had it been ineffective?  At sublight speed, the
alien ship backed away from the area until it was approximately
twelve-thousand kilometers away.
     "Captain," his first officer said, "it might be advisable that
we move away from the area as well.  When the Stargazer appears
it could be dangerous to be within a close proximity of the area."
     "Agreed.  Berlitz, take us another five-thousand kilometers
away from the mist and then resume an all stop."
     "Aye, sir."
     The image on the viewscreen did not change much, and
yet, Riker felt the distance.  He wondered if his former captain
would return in minutes, hours, or even days.  Dammit!  Why
wouldn't the Akodians tell him at least that much?
     They waited. . . .again.

     Nearly three hours later, the Akodian captain hailed them. 
"It is almost time," he said and abruptly severed the link.
     About five seconds later, a loud popping sound ripped
through the mist and suddenly the Stargazer began to solidify. 
The entire process took exactly fifty-three seconds, the android
officer verbally observed, but to Riker it seemed much longer.
     "Your Stargazer crew has arrived," Quain stated
reappearing on the viewscreen.  "Now, we must begin the next
phase--psychological evaluation.  We would be happy to--"
     "If you don't mind Quain," Riker interrupted.  "The
Stargazer has Federation crew on board.  I think it would be best if
they were initially greeted by their own kind."
     "Very well, but as soon as you have your people aboard the
Enterprise I want to beam a team of regeneration experts aboard."  
     "Agreed."
     Quain severed the connection.
     "Mr. Worf, please open a channel to the Stargazer."
     "Aye sir."
     "Stargazer, this is Captain Riker aboard the Enterprise. 
Are you able to hear me and understand me?"
     The viewscreen filled with an image of the Stargazer's
bridge.  Picard was standing close to his own viewscreen,
squinting as though he could not see.  "Will?"
     "Captain, I know this is quite a shock for you and your
crew.  Please remain calm and we'll do everything we can to help
you.  We would like to beam all of you over to the Enterprise
where we can discuss this situation."
     "Situation, Number One?"
     Riker glanced at Data, who was showing a great deal of
concern for their former captain.  Both of them knew that it had
been quite some time since Riker had served as Picard's Number
One.  Did Jean-Luc Picard remember that or had regeneration
caused him to now suffer amnesia?
     "Jean-Luc, it would be far better if I explained it to you in
person.  Will you agree to beam over?"  He had standing medical
orders from Starfleet to beam the entire Stargazer crew over
anyway, but Riker felt the situation would unfold more smoothly if
he had Picard's permission.
     "Everybody. . ."  He glanced at his bridge crew.  "Yes, yes,
perhaps that would be best."
     "Good.  Inform your entire crew and we'll begin beaming
them over in five minutes."
     Picard nodded weakly, seemingly unable to respond
verbally.  He did not look like the formidable captain he had once
been.  Now he just looked confused and vulnerable--an almost
mirror image of his expression after being rescued from the Borg
collective.  Riker hoped that it wasn't a permanent side-effect of
regeneration.
     "Data, assemble an away team.  Once the Stargazer is
evacuated, I want you to beam over," Riker said.  "While Dr.
Selar's team is examining her crew, I'd like you to check the
integrity of her systems."
     "Aye sir," the android replied.

     Thirty minutes later, Data Worf and Berlitz beamed onto
the bridge of the Stargazer and each of them went in separate
directions to examine the onboard systems.  Whipping out their
tricorders, they scanned the room to check the integrity of the hull. 
Their readings indicated a structure consisting mostly of duranium,
tritanium, and polymer composites, the standard construction for
Starfleet vessels.
     From the science station, Berlitz said, "The main computer
is online."  She brought up some files from the main computer
core and began browsing through them.  "Everything is up to date
from the time the Stargazer was destroyed."
     Worf walked around to the tactical station and brought up
the main viewer.  The Enterprise loomed across the big screen. 
"Sensors are operating at optimal efficiency," he informed the
android.
     "There's a considerable amount of data on the wormhole
pocket they encountered just prior to their destruction," Berlitz
said, swiveling in her chair.  "Should I upload it to Starfleet."
     "Proceed, Lieutenant," Data replied.  He was sitting in the
command chair, reading through Captain Picard's logs during the
last several days of his life.  "Amazing!  Virtually everything is in
tact and running efficiently."
     "Sir, may I make a personal observation?" Berlitz asked
and the commander nodded.  "I'm wondering what has happened,
if anything, to the debris of the Stargazer.  I mean, can it coexist
with this ship?"
     "Indeed, that is an excellent inquiry," Data commented. 
"Contemplating all the possible paradoxes in this situation could
prove mind boggling."
     Berlitz nodded musedly before turning back toward the
science station.  "The files were successfully transferred," she
informed them.
     "Good, Lieutenant."  Data turned toward the Klingon.  "Mr.
Worf, hail the Enterprise."
     "Aye sir."
     A moment later, the Enterprise bridge filled the Stargazer's
screen.  From its command chair, Riker said, "Your report,
Commander?"
     "It is amazing, Captain.  The Stargazer is completely in
tact, both structurally and systemically."
     "Let's just hope its crew is as well off."
     "Indeed.  I think we are done here, sir.  Three to beam back
aboard the Enterprise."
 
     After the first group had been beamed over, Dr. Selar and
her medical staff immediately began the time-consuming
physicals.  The biobeds were quickly filled up and the team
scurried about to find new objects to create makeshift ones out of. 
Every regenerated officer was understandably disoriented, and
some were in need of immediate medical care.  Riker stood over
Picard as he was brought to a biobed and slowly, painfully,
attempted to explain everything to the older man.
     "Do you remember the accident at all, Jean-Luc?" Riker
asked.
     "A bright light. . .blinding light," Picard replied, his eyes
distant.  "We had no warning, no warning at all."
     "Do you understand how much time has passed since
then?"
     "It seems like it just happened, but. . . .months. . . ." Picard
strained to gain composure.  He sat up despite the medical
technicians objections and looked his former first officer in the
eyes.  Dammit, he'd faced too many obstacles for anything to stop
him now!  "What stardate is this?"
     "50497.  If we had waited much longer. . . ."
     "I wouldn't be here," Picard finished with a nod. He
appeared to be accepting of the time that had passed, but Riker
wondered if it weren't more because jean-Luc was in shock.  
"None of my crew would.  But are they--are we--better off?"
     Riker did not need to answer the question, for many of
those around them were obviously suffering from mental anguish
that could possibly take months to overcome--if they ever did.  He
placed his hand on Picard's shoulder and gave him a reassuring
squeeze.
     Trying to sit up and look around the room, Picard said,
"Martha?  Where is Martha?"  Riker knew that he was referring to
Commander Martha Lasalle, his first officer aboard the Stargazer. 
At least he now remembered that Riker was no longer his first
officer.
     "Calm down, Jean-Luc," Will said, coaxing the older man
to lie back down.  "I'll check on her for you and let you know.  She
is receiving the best of care."
     "Of course," Picard said with a nod.  "Beverly--no it's Dr.
Selar now aboard the Enterprise, isn't it?  This is all so very
confusing."  He closed his eyes and Riker hoped that his friend
would succumb to sleep.
     "Your memories will come back to you," Will reassured
Picard.
     Picard opened his eyes partway and saw Worf approaching
them.  Directing his words at Picard, the Klingon said, "Sir, it is
good to have you back.  May you live again with honor."
     Picard nodded almost unnoticeably before giving in to his
fatigue.
     Worf  turned toward Riker and they stepped a few feet
away from their former captain to talk in hush tones.  "Captain, a
few of the regenerated officers have shown hostile tendencies.  It
was necessary even to place two of them in a stasis unit to keep
them immobile.  One, a young female Bajoran, inflicted injuries
on herself.  Recommend that we double security in sickbay."
     Riker glanced around the room although he had already
determined his answer.  "Agreed.  Maintain around the clock
security of this area until further notice."
     "Aye sir."  Worf did not leave as the captain had expected
him to.  "One more thing, sir.  I know this is a difficult situation,
but Deanna. . . ."
     "I do understand, Worf.  As soon as we've taken the
Stargazer personnel to Starbase nineteen, we'll request permission
to travel to Betazed."
     "Thank you, sir."  With a nod, he walked away to perform
his duties.
     Data to Captain," came the android over the commlink.
     "Go ahead," Riker replied as a young ensign nearby began
screaming.
     "Sir, Captain Quain is insisting that you allow his away
team to beam over now."
     "Thank you, Mr. Data.  I believe we're ready for their
assistance."
     It was then that Riker noticed a woman sitting on a biobed
in the far corner, her legs tucked underneath her.  She wasn't
moving, didn't even seem to be aware of her surroundings. 
"Beverly," he uttered just above a whisper.
     A few minutes later, Quain and four of his officers,
accompanied by an Enterprise security officer, joined Riker in the
sickbay.
     "Greetings," Quain said with a nod.
     "I'll admit it, Captain," Riker said, holding his arms out to
indicate all the chaos.  "You were right.  We do need your help! 
As you can see, their reaction is pretty intense."
     Quain's expression conveyed no surprise.  "Actually, I've
seen much worse.  I don't mean to belittle your concern, Captain
Riker.  I just want to reassure you that we Akodians have been
dealing with regeneration patients for many pelvars.  I think my
team can handle this.  You should return to your bridge now,
Captain Riker."  Quain offered him a smile.  "I'm sure you will be
more comfortable there."
     Not knowing how to respond, Riker simply sighed.  As he
walked passed the Akodian captain, he patted the man on the
shoulder and said, "Be gentle with them."
         ***

     For the first time since he accepted command of his own
ship, Riker did not feel comfortable sitting in the captain's chair. 
He wanted to be in sickbay with Picard and Dr. Crusher! 
Rationally, he knew that he had no expertise in how to help them
through their anguish and yet he needed to be with them.
     Around him, the entire bridge crew seemed both aware of
his need and to share a growing anxiety.  Beside the captain,
Commander Data was trying to keep busy by reviewing (and thus
memorizing) Starfleet updates from the past week.  Busy work for
an android, Riker realized.  That's all any of them were doing right
now on the bridge.
     "Dr. Selar to Captain Riker."
     "Riker here."
     "Captain, something has happened that warrants your
attention immediately."
     "I'm on my way," he replied excitedly.  At least now he had
something to do besides sit and wait.
     On his way to sickbay, he wondered--and worried--about
the emergency.  Were the Stargazer crew members proving too
difficult even for the Akodians?
     When he arrived, to his relief, the situation in sickbay was
not nearly as chaotic.  Dr. Selar met him halfway inside.
     "Captain, one of the Akodians, Medic Parkin, is with a
young Bajoran, Ensign Tuck Janis, at the moment.  Ensign Tuck
claims to have had visions during the time she was deceased."
     "What?  But that's impossible!  The Akodians assured us
that memories during that time were impossible."
     "Nonetheless, she speaks of them.  The logical conclusion
would be to assume that the Akodians have not yet realized the
limitations of their own technology."
     "Where is this Ensign Tuck now?"
     "In my private office."
     Riker stepped around the doctor to enter her office just in
time to hear the ensign exclaim, "Take me back!  You have to take
me back!"
     The female Akodian doctor tried to calm the confused
young woman with a pat on the arm, but the ensign pushed her
away.  As she caught her balance, Medic Parkin noticed that
Captain Riker had entered the room.  After straightening her
uniform, the doctor stepped toward the captain.
     "Greetings!" she said.  "I am relieved that you could make
it down her so quickly."
     Before Riker could respond, Ensign Tuck picked up her
ranting.  "There was a light. . .a beautiful light.  In the name of
the
Prophets, you have to let me go back there!"
     "Ensign Tuck," Riker said, approaching her.
     "You don't believe me!  You're thinking it's impossible!"
     "Janis, I understand how confused you must feel right now. 
In time, hopefully you will understand what has happened to you
and why we decided to bring you back."
     "I don't want to be here," she told him with conviction.
     "Janis, the bright light you saw--it was a wormhole
collapsing around your ship.  I understand how terribly frightened
you must have felt."
     The ensign began shaking her head wildly.  "No, no!  That
isn't true!  It was too beautiful.  Their were birds singing so
sweetly.  The breeze felt so warm and gentle on my face."  She
brought her hands toward her face and smiled as though she were
feeling the breeze now.
     "Do you know where you were?" Riker asked, deciding to
play along.
     "Heaven, of course," she responded.  "It was the afterworld
the Prophets built for us.  What else could be so beautiful?  This
ship, the stars, the planets that we visit--they're nothing compared
to what Heaven has to offer.  I need to go back there."  Tuck burst
into tears.  "Please, Captain!"
     "I wish I could help you, Ensign.  I will talk with the
Akodians, the aliens who brought you back to our dimension, and
find out what they can do to help you."  Riker wasn't completely
sure if she understood, but she nodded.  He turned toward the
Akodian doctor and in a whisper said,  "I think we need to discuss
this outside of Ensign Tuck's presence."
     "That would probably be best," Parken agreed.  "Why don't
we take this discussion to your private office."
     "How about the conference lounge room instead?"  Riker
decided he didn't want the Akodians inside his ready room.  They
hadn't done anything yet to prove themselves untrustworthy, but he
realized he couldn't be too cautious when dealing with new races.
     "That will be just fine."
     Once they had settled into the conference lounge room
several minutes later.  Riker began, "You said that none of your
regenerated patients ever spoke of seeing anything during the time
they were. . ."
     "Dead, Captain."
     "Yes, dead.  It's a little difficult for me to think of them that
way," he admitted.  "Are you completely certain that no
regenerated patient ever had visions before?"
     "Yes, Captain.  As part of my medical training, I had to
study every case of regeneration.  I am well versed on the subject. 
Most of them remember the moment of death, and then, to them at
least, their moment of rebirth is instantaneous.  That's why they
feel such a strong displacement.  Imagine that in one moment you
are alone or within a small group and then suddenly hundreds are
bustling around you, trying to help you."
     "Why not leave them be for a while?  Give them time to
adjust?"
     "We can't do that for medical reasons.  Your chief medical
officer reported that twelve percent of the Stargazer's crew were in
need of immediate medical treatment.  Without it, they would have
died.  Regeneration cannot be performed a second time. 
Unfortunately, that is an average occurrence."
     "But Ensign Tuck's memories are not a normal occurrence. 
How do we explain that?  Is there some physiological difference
between our races that precipitates such memories?  I find that
hard to believe.  I've always thought that we left our corporeal
beings behind when we crossed over.  I guess that's one question
that will be left unanswered until we die.  Do your people believe
in an afterlife?  In God?"
     "Oh yes," Parken exclaimed with a smile.  "You are
probably wondering why then we feel the need to regenerate so
many of our dead.  We have never claimed to be a logical race."
     "Neither are we humans," Riker admitted.  After a moment,
he asked, "So what should we do to help Ensign Tuck?"
     "My people will help you counsel her.  It will take a long
time, possibly months, before she learns to accept what has
happened to her.  You cannot expect an immediate recovery."
     The captain nodded as he wondered how many others were
as bad off as Ensign Tuck.  Had they really done the right thing by
bringing them back to the dimension of the living?

     Chapter Eighteen:

     "Good afternoon, gentleman," Rear Admiral Stockwell
said, greeting La Forge and Barclay as they stepped into his office
on Starbase Nineteen.
     "Hello, sir," Geordi replied.  
     "How are you today, sir?" Reg asked nervously.
     "Relax, Commanders.  Neither of you are on trial here. 
Please, have a seat."  He pointed to the two chairs in front of his
desk, obviously placed there in expectation of this meeting.  Once
they were comfortably seated, the admiral continued.  "You both
know why I called you here--to determine which one of you retains
the position of chief engineer on board the Enterprise and which
one of you is subsequently reassigned.  Let me tell you that I didn't
like having to make this decision.  It was a difficult one indeed. 
You are both highly qualified to serve as chief engineer aboard our
flagship, but alas there can be only one chief engineer aboard the
Enterprise."
     Both commanders squirmed in their chairs.
     "Mr. La Forge, you have served as Enterprise chief
engineer for many years and you did not leave that post under your
own volition.  Therefore, I am reinstating you as such
immediately. "
     Both officers sighed with relief.  Barclay was just as glad to
have the waiting over even if it meant reassignment for him. He
turned toward his friend, and holding out his hand, said,
"Congratulations, Geordi.  You deserve it."  Geordi accepted his
friend's handshake.
     "And you, Mr. Barclay," the admiral continued, "I have a
special assignment for you."

     Ten minutes later, both commanders left Admiral
Stockwell's office.  As they walked toward the docking bay to
return to the Enterprise, they discussed Barclay's new assignment
and what the future might hold for each of them.
     "The Admiral could not have offered you a better job!"
Geordi exclaimed just before they beamed aboard the Enterprise.
     Riker was standing beside the transporter technician, ready
to greet them.  "Gentleman," he said a bit anxiously.  He did not
yet know the admiral's decision.
     "Chief Engineer Geordi La Forge reporting for duty, sir,"
Geordi said as he stepped off the platform.
     Riker grinned, unable to hide his glee that he would once
again be working with La Forge.  His smile faltered as he turned
toward Barclay.  "You'll be missed, of course, Reg."
     "I know," Barclay replied and his smile belied any hurt he
felt.  "But if you don't mind my saying so, I'm rather looking
forward to arriving at Utopia Planetia."
     Riker stared at the commander, his mouth agape.
     "It's quite fortuitous really.  Commander Jaxis, who has
been in charge over there for the last fifteen years, just put in for
retirement.  Starfleet Headquarters chose me as his replacement."
     "Congratulations!  I guess this means we'll have to make a
trip there to drop you off."
     "If you will excuse me, Captain, Commander," Barclay
said, "I think I better go pack my bags."  He waited long enough
for Riker's nod and then exited via the turbolift.
     "So Geordi," Riker said in a jovial tone, "allow me to give
you a tour of main engineering."
           *        *         *         *

     Deanna was in the baby's room gently rocking her in the
big rocking chair her mother had long ago sat in with her. 
Shannara had fallen blissfully asleep several minutes ago, but her
mother continued to rock her, enjoying the quiet time alone with
the infant.
     "Deanna darling, you have a visitor," Lwaxana said over
the house's comm system.
     Who could that possibly be? Deanna wondered as she stood
to place the baby in her crib.  She slipped a blanket over the infant
before leaving the room and heading downstairs.
     She squealed with delight when she saw Worf standing in
the foyer and rushed to accept him in her arms.  "Mother didn't tell
me that you were my visitor," she said, and then kissed him.
     "I wanted to surprise you," he replied.
     "The baby's asleep, and Alexander is at a friend's house." 
As she told him this, she flirted with him by running her hands
along his neck and down his back.
     "Your Mother said to tell you that she had a few errands to
run."  Worf offered her one of his rare smiles.
     "Looks like we've got the whole house to ourselves."
     Scooping Deanna off the floor, the Klingon carried her
effortlessly up the stairs.  She directed him into the bedroom she
was using, and they descended onto the bed, kissing.  Deanna
could sense his overwhelming need for sexual release and could
feel it echoing in her own soul.  She drank in his Klingon smells
with her kisses.  Quickly, they helped each other undress, coming
together in a hungry lust for each other, both wanting to be
devoured by the other.
     It had been a long time since Deanna felt the need for such
passion, because before she had agreed to spend some time on
Betazed, the wormhole had curtailed her interest--in anything.  She
knew, although he had never admitted it, that Worf had been
unsatisfied with their physical relationship for quite some time. 
He was a Klingon and Klingons needed aggressive women.  With
her natural Betazoid instincts, that had not been a problem during
the beginning of their relationship.  And it was not a problem now.
     "I have really missed you," Worf said after they had caught
their breath.  
     Knowing that he was referring to a timespan much longer
than the time she'd spent on Betazed, she replied, "I've missed me,
too.  It is really good to be back. . .in your arms.
     "I know you are wondering what happened on the other
side of the wormhole.  Deanna, these people--the Akie they call
themselves--actually have a technology that allows them to bring
lost comrades back from the dead."  
     She could sense that he was having difficulty dealing with
the fact that this conflicted with his ingrown Klingon beliefs of
honorable deaths.  But then, he had been raised by Humans and
also shared some of their beliefs.  She rubbed his arm lovingly and
waited for him to continue.
     "They admitted that they were directly responsible for the
destruction of the Stargazer.  At first, we were unsure that they
would use their technology to recover our people.  But after
several days of deliberation, they agreed.  One of their ships
followed us back through to our side of the galaxy."
     "And Captain Picard. . . .Beverly?"
     "They are with us again."
     Deanna suddenly jumped out of bed and began searching
for her discarded clothing.  "Then we have to go to them now!"
     "Darling, there is something you must know first."
     Deanna paused with her pants halfway on and stared into
her husband's eyes.  She could sense that all had not been made
right as she had wanted to assume.  Their friends had been
returned to them and yet something was terribly wrong.
     After she was finished dressing, she sat on the end of the
bed and listened to her husband finish telling the story.
     "I want to see Beverly," Deanna insisted once he was
finished.
     "But Darling, what about your. . .reaction.  The wormholes
were bad enough.  How will it be for you if you go anywhere near
one of the regeneration patients or with the Akodians?"
     "I don't know.  Let's consult with the Akodians through
subspace channels.  Maybe they will have a solution."
     Worf conceded, and they contacted Starbase Nineteen. 
They waited only a short while before an Akodian was able to
speak with them.
     "Admiral Merritt has explained your problem to me," the
female Akodian said.  "My name is Medic Parkin.  I am the senior
medical officer in charge of this case.  We have dealt with
empathic lifeforms in the past.  I believe I have a solution to your
problem."
     Deanna sighed with relief.  "Thank you, Medic.  Thank
you!"
         ***

     Deanna had dressed hastily in a blue dress that was still a
little tight on her (she had yet to lose all the "baby" fat).
Scarcely
caring about how she looked, she was in too much of a hurry to see
her long-lost friend.  She felt like she was experiencing an
empathic overload as she stepped off the turbolift and rushed down
the station corridors toward the infirmary.  Yet she knew this
experience would be ten times worse if Medic Parkin hadn't
supplied her with a drug known as gerrapiam an Akodian-made
substance developed nearly fifty pelvars ago which inhibited
empathic senses.   From no on, whenever Deanna found herself
within close proximity of an Akodian or one of their wormholes,
she would have to take a dose of gerrapiam.  She was relieved to
hear that Akodian empathic echos wore off after a few months, so
she would not have to continuously use the drug every time she
wanted to visit her friends among the Stargazer crew.  
     She didn't know what she was going to say to Beverly or
how her dear friend was going to react.  She reached the infirmary
to find doctors and nurses scurrying about trying to keep up with
the needs of the Stargazer crew members.  Their confusion and
loneliness overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes for a moment
to help her filter out most of it.
     "May I help you?" a nurse asked.
     "Yes.  I'm Commander Deanna Rozhenko.  Dr. Beverly
Crusher--she was the chief medical officer aboard the Stargazer. .
."
     The nurse smiled understandingly.  "Follow me,
Commander."
     The other woman led Deanna through the width of the
infirmary and into a small room.  Wearing informal clothing,
Beverly Crusher was sitting in one corner of the room.  Her hair
was uncombed and her expression was glassy as though she
weren't mentally there.  Deanna sensed the same confusion and
loneliness from her friend that she had from the other Stargazer
crew members.  She also sensed a feeling of defeat and that
frightened her most of all.
     Cautiously, Deanna approached her friend and sat down
beside Beverly.  She wanted to touch Crusher, to comfort her with
a hug, but she couldn't be sure how Beverly would react to
physical contact.  Deanna could sense that Beverly felt humiliated
by her loss of power.  No one was even sure that she would ever
lead a totally normal life again, let alone practice medicine. 
Deanna realized how the wormhole had affected herself.  What
Beverly had experienced was far more extreme.  No one could
expect her to reciprocate quickly.
     "Deanna?" Beverly whispered, turning her head slightly in
Deanna's direction.
     "Yes, it's me," Deanna replied in a soothing tone.  "I came
as soon as I could get transport.  I'm on leave of duty so I can stay
here with you for as long as you need me."
     "Leave. . ."
     At first, Deanna wasn't sure if Beverly was afraid she was
going to leave or that she wanted her to leave.  Then she realized
Beverly meant neither, but rather was asking why she was on leave
of duty.
     "Of course, you wouldn't know.  You remember about
Worf and I?  You were at our wedding."  Deanna waited for her
friend's nod.  "Worf and I had a baby--a daughter named shannara. 
She's nine weeks old now.  Starfleet granted me an open-ended
leave of duty."
     Beverly raised her hand, and Deanna took it into hers. 
"That's wonderful."  No smile.  "Is Worf with you?"
     "On the station, yes.  We left Alexander and the baby with
my Mother.  Beverly," she began cautiously, "how much of what
happened do you remember?"
     "Everything."  The doctor began shaking and her
complexion became a shade lighter.  "Everything.  I can't forget." 
She smacked her forehead with her palm.  "I can't get it out of my
mind!"
     Deanna clutched both of her friend's hands to prevent
Beverly from continuously beating against herself.  "Beverly, you
have to allow yourself time to heal."  She hugged her friend
fiercely as though fighting for her dear life--and maybe she was. 
"No one expects you to forget or to recover quickly.  In a very real
sense, you are grieving.  You're grieving for the life you lost.  Give
yourself time to find your serenity, and then you can begin to fight
to restore your life.  You're not alone!  I will stand beside you the
entire way.  All your friends will!"
     Beverly looked at her friend, and Deanna suddenly sensed a
glimmer of hope.  A slight smile formed on the older woman's
face.  "I think I can," she said slowly.
     "I know you can!"
     They sat silently for a long while, Deanna rocking Beverly
in her arms.  For the time being, Deanna knew that her friend
needed her reassuring presence more than anything else.  Beverly
was beginning to heal now.

The End

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     [-[[ tIME aND dATE oF tHE uPLOAD: ]]---[[ 23:47:43, 08-16-1996 ]]-]