Please hit the back button to return to the previous page. Paramount owns all rights to the StarTrek universe and its characters. You can blame me only for the spelling and the plot! Zlanna@aol.com Chapter 4 The Mystery of Genetic Bonding "Commander we have a Borg ship at 10:00 o'clock." Lt. Worf announced. "Not returning our hail, Sir." Will watched in terror as the gray metallic cube approached relentlessly. "They are powering up their weapons." Wolf's voice was steady as he continued to monitor the flashing lights of the console before him. "Raise shields, Sir?" Riker realized Data was standing at attention, waiting. Waiting for what? "Direct hit! Commander, our phase inducers are off-line!" Geordi LaForge cried in terror. Will wondered what the devil a phase inducer was and what would happen if they went off-line. "Casualties coming in, now, Sir. On decks 6, 8 , 11." Worf locked stares with Will. The look seemed hostile, but Worf was a Klingon. Klingons always looked hostile he remembered. A terrifying blast rocked the bridge sending brilliant sparks of red flying. Darkness engulfed the room briefly, followed by a flickering orange light that finally stabilized. The silence was punctuated for a moment by the solitary crackling sound of energy desperately trying to ground itself. The smell of burnt alloid filled the air. Reports came over the com system from all stations. Officers called out commands that Riker heard over the intercom, Crusher reported injury statistics while in the background Will heard the cries of crew members. Riker looked around him desperately, searching for Picard who lay immobile on the floor next to smoking shell of wires and flashing lights that was once the main body of the android, Data. "Another hit, Commander, hull breach eminent on deck 10." LaForge yelled. He looked at Riker as if waiting. Waiting for what? He was supposed to do something. Or maybe he was supposed to say something. What? Will Riker stood alone, aware that he should already have made a decision. But what decision? He looked to Counselor Troi. Her blank expression either indicated that she didn't know what decision he should make or couldn't tell him. No use asking Worf who continued to glare at him. LaForge would give a recommendation based on the action most likely to preserve his precious engines. Which decision? What would Picard want him to do? What would Picard do? Data! Data couldn't help. What were his options? Perhaps LaForge did have an answer. Riker hadn't a clue what to do. A flash slowly rolled toward the federation ship. A young helmsman, what was his name Riker wondered, intoned, "Impact in 12 seconds, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7" Suddenly Riker remembered something. At least he thought it was a memory, perhaps a forgotten fantasy. He was in a chapel. He was on a stage watching Deanna slowly mount the steps. She was nude wearing nothing but a white headband. A white headband. He should know what that signified. What did it signify? Beverly Crusher was beckoning to the Counselor. Riker stood staring at Counselor Troi as the computer decreed, "Enterprise destroyed." Picard threw his padd down on the desk, immediately regretting the action, then consciously calmed his anger while waiting for Riker in the observation lounge of the holodeck. Why won't he try? Damn him. Picard thought. He just ambles off the mock bridge as if he has just finished his lunch. Troi felt Riker's relief that the exercise was over and Picard's deep disappointment. Will returned to the observation stand. "Well," he began, "I didn't break into tears, for me, that's progress." Picard gave him a sharp look. "Yes, well maybe after your rest on Betazed we can try again." So upset was the Captain with his first officer's performance and his own reaction that he turned and left before saying something he regretted. Doctor Crusher gave Will a pat on the arm. "You did very well, Will. You are right. You have made a lot of progress." Deanna felt Will's emotions change as he finally picked up on Picard's anger. She took his hand. "So, we don't have to agonize over another test for three weeks!" Will smiled, but Deanna knew it was covering up the hurt he felt at Picard's frustration with his latest simulation results. "Right, Betazed here we come. Beverly, are you having dinner with us tonight?" Crusher narrowed her eyes, "Who is cooking?" "Me of course! You can name the dessert!" Riker said, his grin already returning, the humiliation of the test failure forgotten. "How can I resist?" Crusher smiled. "Do you serve blueberry pie?" "Only for special guests!" Will laughed. "Deanna asked for Selanian welisna." "What's that?" Bev asked suspiciously. "It's like chicken Kiev." Deanna said. "With different spices and no chicken." "I'd be delighted." Crusher replied dubiously. Picard was not happy as he sullenly stood beside Crusher outside Will's cabin. Beverly doubted Will would be any more delighted to see his commanding officer. "Captain. Doctor!" Deanna greeted both, pulling them inside Riker's cabin. "Look, Will, Beverly brought another guest." Will looked up from his cooking. His smile faded slightly at seeing Picard, but he covered well. "The more the merrier. Come on in. Deanna, maybe you can get everyone something to drink while I finish up." Deanna immediately picked up on Picard's discomfort. "Captain, what can I get you?" Picard suspected that Crusher and Troi had arranged for this evening to try and bridge the growing gap between him and his former First Officer, but frankly, he would prefer to avoid Riker until he had recovered. It was just too hard to watch Will in this state. It brought back memories of his own recovery after his capture by the Borg, but at least he had fought every step of the way to recover. Will seemed to just accept his fate. That was what angered Picard more than anything. The Riker he knew and respected would never have just accepted a fate that precluded command. "Captain, perhaps, you would want to chop some onions." Deanna handed Picard a large, dangerous looking kitchen knife. "Well, all right." Picard stared at the serrated edge of the knife, wondering what to do with weapon. Will nodded as Picard stood next to him and looked around for a chopping board. "Here Captain, this knife will be easier to use. That one is more for larger cuts of meat." Will lowered his voice and leaned toward Picard as if conspiring with an ally. "Deanna means well, but she doesn't have a clue what to do in the kitchen." "I know you are talking about me! I know you are criticizing my cooking skills!" the empath called from across the room. "Criticizing? Never, my dear. Just commenting on your lack of interest in the culinary arts! Its okay! I prefer to be master of my own kitchen." Will teased. Will quickly assembled the various ingredients and then went to the replicator ordering corn. "Ah, I'm allergic to corn." Riker caught Picard's glance toward the doctor. "No problem," Will replied. "Brocoli?" Picard frowned. "Brussels sprouts?" Picard looked at Will and deadpanned, "Broccoli would be fine." "Poule-au-pot?" Will posed the question to the Captain, who nodded with a smile. "My mother used to make that! Do you have a recipe?" `"Bien sur!" Will smiled. He dumped a skillet full of sauce in the recycling bin, grabbed a handful of vegetables that had been cooking on the stove, and began adjusting the recipe. "Avec le pain Alsacien?" Picard's face lit up. "You won't have time!" Then Picard's face fell. "Oh, you mean from the replicator?" Will looked shocked and insulted. Turning around, he uncovered a dish that had a cloth napkin covering its contents. With a flourish he dramatically drew away the napkin. "Of course not. Here." Riker handed Picard a slice of bread. "I made it earlier. It is one of my favorites. I figured it would work. The brie is over there if you want. Triple creme. I just got a some today when we got supplies in from the Intrepid." Picard eagerly spread the brie on the bread, then gingerly took a bite. His smile widen. "Yes, yes. Here Beverly try this!" Riker smiled at the Captain's enthusiasm. "I could whip up Profiteroles for dessert if you wish." he whispered in Picard's ear. "Could you?" Picard asked in wonder. Deanna smiled. This was working out just fine. Picard walked Beverly back to her quarters after dinner. "I haven't eaten like that since..." "Since Will cooked for Deanna's birthday before the accident?" "Yes, Beverly, I suppose that is right. In the kitchen, he was very much in control. That is the closest to the old Will Riker I have seen since his accident. He didn't hesitate at all to change the menu, he was organized. He managed the blueberry pie and the Profiteroles. How? How could he handle himself so well tonight and do so miserably on the command test?" Crusher shrugged. "More pressure? I don't know. He was more relaxed. There wasn't any expectations tonight. You need to give him time, Jean-Luc. He's improving daily. Don't scare him away." "What do you mean 'scare him away'?" "I mean Star Fleet has been after him to accept a medical discharge. They are going to be pressuring you next." Crusher said. They stood outside Crusher's door. Picard sighed. "They already have. Its on my desk. Until tonight, I was thinking seriously of signing it. I suppose if I did I might stand to lose a very good Counselor too. Right?" Beverly shrugged without replying. "Very well. Let him take the three weeks in Betazed and then we'll evaluate how he is doing." Beverly clapped her hands together and spontaneously gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Jean-Luc." She went inside, waving good-bye over her shoulder. Picard shook his head. Riker and Troi had obviously resumed their romantic relationship. There were simply too many small signs to ignore. The terms of endearment, the small touches, the good natured teasing. He shouldn't condone it. Why then was he standing outside Beverly Crusher's quarters imagining himself inside? Deanna felt Riker's growing interest as he watched her prepare for bed. Slowly she undid her uniform top, folded it and tucked in the drawer. Next she removed her bra and put it away, then delicately stepped out of her pants. She made a great show of hunting for her night clothes. Slipping on a gown, she finally slipped under the sheets and ordered. "Lights out." She snuggled next to him, folding his arm around her. From the dark she heard his voice. "When are you going to tell me who contacted Wendy Roper?" End of Chapter 4