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	Suspicions by Zlanna@aol.com


	It was a death scream. Commander William Riker cringed when he heard
it, recognizing it immediately as the last desperate protest of a man
who knows that there is no hope for him, that he is trapped and that the
moment he is facing will be his last in this existence. It was an appeal
for mercy, a curse against circumstance, a prayer of forgiveness all
within one final, impassioned chord but the word that the ensign yelled
was not a simple call for help. Instead, he cried for the one man he
believed might save him despite the inevitability of his death on this
planet so distant from his home. He shouted "Commander!" and Riker took
off through the downpour knowing that he was too far away, doubting he
could arrive in time, suspecting there was nothing he could do. But he
ran anyway, because one thing his life among the stars had taught him
was that nothing was ever what it appeared and therefore there was
always the chance that the impossible could occur.

	Riker arrived before the rest of the away team to find the mangled
remnants of what had once been a cocky young ensign. Security Officer
Kramer was now sprawled motionless, his dirt-splattered, tan uniform
soaked by the heavy drops of rain that pummeled his face, washing away
the mud.  Around him chunks of loose shale rock littered the ground,
having crushed the tender young vegetation that only recently had taken
hold on the former desert planet. Looking up the side of the steep cliff
that towered above him several hundred feet, Riker guessed Kramer had
been climbing, slipped on the wet rock and had fallen. Bending down, the
First Officer was surprised to find the Ensign still breathing, though
barely. "Hang in there, Kramer. We'll get you to the Enterprise."

	"No." A hacking cough forced Kramer to curl onto his side. When he
recovered he lifted his eyes to Riker and managed to mutter, "Accident."

	"I know." Riker answered. Riker ignored Kramer's request to delay
the beam out. "Riker to Enterprise. Beam Ensign Kramer directly to
sickbay. We've had a climbing accident. His injuries are severe."

	Kramer choked as he gasped for air. His hand reached out clutching
at Riker's uniform. His breath came in short stabs, but he managed a
gurgled, "I. Did it." Convulsing once violently, then once more gently,
Kramer died. Riker started to reach down to him but Kramer's body
shimmered out of sight in a thousand points of light, leaving Riker
alone, staring at the depression in the wet, red soil where only moments
before the ensign had lain.

	The chirp of the insignia sounded followed by Doctor Crusher's
voice. "Crusher to Riker. Will, I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do
for Kramer. Can you make 1600 hours for the autopsy review?"

	"I'll be there and I'll bring Troi with me." A cold wind whipped
against the back of Riker's soaked shirt. In the distance thin, white
wisps of clouds were gathering into towering gray clouds that were in
turn coalescing into a massive storm front. Riker watched the angry
heavens wondering why the Sinomians were obsessed in turning their
planet from its historic desert conditions into a humid, forest
environment in the shortest possible time frame. Riker had read the
latest Starfleet report on Sinomia. The population had voted to change
the climate only a month ago, but already the government was altering
the weather patterns, creating the potential for an ecological disaster.
Formerly a patient race, the Sinomians now seemed determined to alter
everything about themselves as rapidly as possible. Perhaps, Riker
mused, it was a manifestation of their hysteria over the Borg threat.

	"Commander?" Data's voice startled Riker into the present. "Is there
a problem?"

	"We have a fatality, Data." Riker said.  "Ensign Kramer. A climbing
accident. Contact Walters, Idit'iat and Cenax. Tell them to find rooms
for the night and keep sharp. I don't like the paranoia that seems to be
spreading on this planet. If things deteriorate further, I want to be
informed before a riot breaks out. I'll go get the Counselor at the
negotiation conference. She'll need to be on board for the autopsy
review."

	"It is ironic that Ensign Kramer survived battling the Borg in
Earth's past, only to die a few hours after our return to our own time
in a climbing accident. Is this fate at work, Commander?"

	"I don't know, Data. I'm sure there'll be an official inquiry when
we bring the Enterprise to Deep Space Two for restoration. Chances are
Kramer's death will be a footnote under the hundreds of names listed as
killed in action fighting the Borg."

	Riker tried to shake off the image of Kramer as he lay in a crumbled
heap. Riker's search teams had just finished bagging the last of the
discarded Borg drone torsos that had been found scattered throughout the
ship in the aftermath of the Borg queen's attempt to capture the
Enterprise. The ship had survived, although Starfleet was insisting they
take her to Deep Space Two rather than Utopia Planetia on Mars in case
the Borg had left some doomsday device on board. First her Captain was
suspect, now his ship itself was not to be trusted. Riker listened to
the grumbling thunder as it echoed his own sentiments. 

***

	To be continued...

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