Chapter One

"You’re new here."

Twirling her glass around on the table, Marissa nodded without looking up at the unwanted visitor. "Yes, I am," she said, raising her glass to her lips and taking a long drink. She finally looked up at the visitor. "Who are you?"

"Not very hospitable, are you?" He cocked a smile at her and dropped into the chair across from her. She glared at him and entertained a very uncharitable thought. "Now, that’s not very nice," he said, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

Startled, Marissa jerked her eyes up to his and found herself lost in deep, obsidian depths. She swallowed hard and pretended nonchalance. "What wasn’t nice?"

"That thought of yours. One would think a Betazoid would remember to think unkind thoughts farther down in their psyche."

"How do you know I’m Betazoid?"

He chuckled. A deep, low sound that resonated through the air. Marissa shivered slightly at the sound of it. "Come now, surely I should get more credit than that?"

"I don’t even know you."

"My apologies. I am Jeyelar Darre. Lieutenant Commander Jeyelar Darre."

"Your name still doesn’t tell me why I should give you credit."

"You are a tough one, aren’t you?"

"I don’t know what you mean," Marissa said, taking a long drink of her beverage. Then, she placed the empty glass on the table. "I need to leave," she said suddenly.

"Not really, Lieutenant. You’re looking for a reason to escape," he said knowingly.

"That’s it!" Marissa slammed her fist down on the table in a display of anger. "Who are you and why are you bothering me?"

"I told you. I am Lieutenant Jeyelar Darre, and as for bothering you, that was the least of my intentions. You looked as if you needed someone to talk to."

"You’re the ship’s counselor, aren’t you?" Marissa said with a sneer in her voice.

"Not exactly."

"Then, what. Exactly?"

"You haven’t told me who you are yet," he said with a smile.

"Lieutenant Commander Riker," Marissa answered, surprised when her maiden name slipped out so easily.

"Ah. You’re Admiral Riker’s daughter," he observed.

"That wasn’t hard to figure out now was it?"

"You’re very bitter."

"Who *are* you?" Marissa glared at him.

"You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?"

"I’m tired of the word and mind games, Lieutenant," Marissa said, rising to her feet.

We haven’t begun to play the mind games yet, Lieutenant, he threw effortlessly into her mind. He smiled in satisfaction as she went stiff and sank back into her chair. "You were raised mostly on Earth, weren’t you?" Marissa nodded mutely. "You are the daughter of Admiral Riker and his wife Commander Deanna Troi. Your grandmother is Lwaxana Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed."

"How do you know all this about me?" Marissa asked quietly.

"Your grandmother and my family have been friends for years. It’s very simple, Lieutenant Riker. I am also from Betazed, but unlike you, I am fully Betazoid and fully telepathic."

"That’s how you know all of this. You were skimming my mind. How dare you?" Marissa hissed.

"Correction. I never skimmed your mind. I simply inferred what I knew about you from your profile and what you let me know when you thought of it."

"My thoughts are my own."

"Yes, they are, but when you cast them, you make them anyone’s business."

"I didn’t cast."

"Perhaps you’ve been around non-telepaths too long. You don’t even realize when you’re casting your thoughts anymore."

Marissa sighed and kneaded her temples. "I need to leave, Lieutenant. It was nice meeting you. Perhaps we’ll talk again," she said, rising to her feet and leaving quickly.

Nodding, he watched her leave. "We will talk again, Marissa. You can be sure of that."

Marissa walked slowly down the corridors of the Destiny, taking in the aesthetics of the ship as well as the feel she got for it. She had come aboard three days ago, and this would be her first official day on duty. Her duty shift began in a few hours, but she wanted to check in with her new captain and see the one part of the ship she hadn’t seen yet: the main bridge.

When she walked onto the bridge she was struck first by the lack of conversation and manpower. This shift seemed to be a skeleton crew. Marissa scrunched her eyes in confusion. No one sat in the command center, so she glanced to the security officer. He glanced back at her with a steady gaze and she asked, "Where is everyone?"

"In a meeting. Who are you?"

"Lieutenant Commander Riker," Marissa answered coolly. "I was hoping to see Captain Raymer."

"He’s in a meeting with the first officer and a few other senior staff members."

Marissa nodded. "Fine. Thank you," she said, turning and walking off the bridge back into the turbolift. She sighed and called out, "Deck Ten," and waited for the lift to stop at her deck. When it stopped, she exited and walked down the corridor to her quarters. She keyed in her security code and walked into her sparse quarters. Her belongings remained in the same boxes, cases, and bags she had packed them in when she left the Nighthawk. She stared at the mountain of unpacking she still had to do as she sat down on the couch. Overwhelmed, Marissa lay her head on the back of the couch, closed her eyes, and felt them sting with tears. This was so much harder than she thought it would be this being on her own for the first time in years.

A tear slipped through her lashes and coursed down her cheek lazily. She made no effort to wipe the wetness away from her skin, but instead let the moisture dry on her cheek. Indulging in self-pity until her shift began to look more useful than unpacking her belongings. After all, they would only increase her misery. Marissa sighed and opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling. "You brought this on yourself, you know," she said aloud.

"Raymer to Riker."

Marissa sat up quickly, as if the captain could see her, and hit her communicator. "Riker here, Sir."

"I’d like to see you in my Ready Room, Lieutenant," the captain said.

"On my way, Sir." Marissa jumped to her feet. "Riker out," she said, hitting her communicator and escaping her lonely quarters.

She walked back onto the bridge less than thirty minutes after her first visit to it. This time, it appeared a full staff made up the duty rotation, and two officers sat at the command center. One of them stood up as she entered the bridge. Catching sight of him, Marissa groaned inwardly. It was the same man from the lounge.

You shouldn’t be so unhappy to see me, Lieutenant, he thought to her while never once losing its domineering smile.

Marissa gave him a short, hard-edged look, as she walked to the Ready Room. She stood outside the door briefly until a robust voice called out, "Enter!"

The doors separated and Marissa walked into a small, but cozily decorated office. She stood just inside the doors at attention. The captain looked up at her with a smile and gestured to the chairs across from his desk. "Have a seat, Lieutenant. Would you like anything to drink?" He asked, turning to his replicator for a glass of water.

"No thank you, Sir," Marissa answered, sitting down.

Captain Douglas Raymer leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers over his slightly ample belly, and studied the beautiful, yet miserable, young woman. Before calling her into see him, he had studied her career record in depth as well as had conversations with both her former captains. Then, he had met with several of his senior staff members to discuss his plan for this particular officer. He smiled at her and said, "Let me officially welcome you aboard the Destiny, Marissa. Are you settling in all right?"

"Yes, Sir. So far, everything has been going wonderfully."

"You come very highly recommended. I wasn’t aware of all your honors and awards for your service. Saving your commanding officer on the Enterprise comes immediately to mind. You nearly died saving your first officer. I respect that kind of dedication to a ship, her crew, and her commanding officers."

"Thank you, Sir, but I believe anyone would have done that."

"Not everyone," he disagreed. "Not everyone would step in front a Romulan disrupter, and yet, you did. Why?"

Marissa stared at him and carefully thought about her answer. Then, she shrugged her shoulders and answered, "Because it was the right thing to do. I had no choice."

"You could have let her take the blast and die."

"No, I couldn’t. Then, I would have been responsible for her death, Sir."

"So, instead, you chose to risk your own life."

"Yes, Sir. It was the right thing to do, and overall, it turned out for the best. I’m still here, that officer is now a captain. I believe things turned out very well."

"You have a high sense of duty and honor, don’t you, Lieutenant?"

Marissa’s forehead wrinkled and she slowly said, "I suppose so, Sir. I was born with it. Starfleet runs in my blood."

"Yes, I’m aware of that. You come from a long and proud line of Starfleet officers. How does that affect you?"

"I don’t understand, Sir." Marissa also didn’t understand what purpose this line of questioning served, but she knew one thing from reading her captain; this line of questioning was damned important to him and her answers were equally important.

"Do you feel that you have to live up to their standards, or do you have your own standards for your life and career."

"A bit of both, Sir. I have my own ideas and desires for my own life, but I also want to have as long and as proud of a career as those before me have had."

"Where do you see yourself in ten years, Lieutenant?"

Marissa smiled and shook her head. "I’d like to be a first officer or a captain by then."

"What about in your personal life. I’m aware that you’ve just ended a marriage. How will your personal life fit in with your career?"

"A career and a marriage don’t mix, Sir. I don’t believe I’ll ever remarry."

"What about a family?"

"I’m not planning on remarrying, so I’m definitely not planning on having children or a family of my own." That brought a lump to Marissa’s throat. The one thing she had longed for in her marriage was a child, but the timing never seemed right.

Captain Raymer nodded and slowly sat up in his chair. "We have several telepaths on board, but you are our one and only empath. From time to time, we will be relying on your reading of emotions when we cannot rely on our telepaths."

"I understand, Sir."

"Can you communicate with the other telepaths aboard this ship? I’m assuming you can communicate with telepaths even though you are not telepathic."

"I can communicate with the other Betazoids. I won’t be able to communicate with the others unless they communicate with me first."

"What about other humans?"

"It takes some effort, but I can do it if I need to."

Raymer nodded slowly, liking all her answers except for two. "Good, Lieutenant. I’d like to offer you a position change."

Her brow furrowed. "A position change?"

"My first officer has been recently promoted to a captain, and my second officer was just promoted to first officer. I’d like to offer you the position of second officer."

Marissa was speechless. "But, Sir, I…I’m…"

"Too young?" He asked with a smile. Marissa blushed and he answered, "You are young, yes, but I want someone with your dedication and your sense of duty serving close to me. Take a day or two and think about it to make a decision."

"Until I make a decision what will I be doing?"

"Settling in and learning your way around the crew and ship. To that end, I will be assigning you a mentor, of sorts." He tapped his communicator and said, "Commander Darre to my Ready Room."

Marissa opened her mouth as the doors opened and he stepped inside. Raymer smiled and gestured to the chair next to Marissa. "Have a seat, Commander. Let me introduce you to Lieutenant Commander Marissa Riker." Then, to Marissa he said, "Lieutenant Riker, this is our new first officer Commander Darre."

"We’ve met," Marissa said tightly.

"Good!" Raymer smiled. "I will be trusting you to Commander Darre for the next few days. He will get you acquainted with the ship and crew as well as lend any hands you may need helping you settle in. When you have made your decision, you will officially go on duty. Are there any questions?" He looked back and forth between the two officers. Neither made a motion, so he clapped his hands together. "Good. I will see you in a few days, Lieutenant." To Darre he said, "Commander, please escort Lieutenant Riker back to her quarters and be sure to show her around the ship today."

"Yes Sir," he said, rising to his feet in unison with Marissa. She glared at him and thought directly to his mind, I can get to my quarters on my own.

Captain’s orders, he thought back to her as they left his Ready Room. "This way, Lieutenant," he said, pointing to the turbolift.

Marissa sighed. I know where the turbolift is. I know where my quarters are. I will be fine. I thank you for your help, but I don’t need it, she thought to him as they entered the turbolift.

When the doors closed he looked down to her and said, "Captain Raymer assigns every new crewmember a mentor based on their assignment. You are assigned to the senior staff; therefore, you are assigned to me whether you like it or not, Lieutenant. I suggest you learn to deal with it."

"Are you going to follow me everywhere?"

"Only if you’re lucky," he said. Then, he called out "Deck Ten!"

Marissa sighed heavily and looked away from the commander. When the turbolift stopped and the doors opened, she took off like a shot down the corridor to her quarters. She entered them quickly and let the door close behind her, keeping the loathsome commander outside. It only lasted a few seconds until he used his security override and entered her quarters. "Why are you so bitter?" he asked quietly.

"Why do you care?" She flung back at him, stalking over to a box, taking it to her bedroom, and emptying its contents onto her bed.

"Because I’m stuck with you for the next several weeks, and no matter what start you think we get off to in the lounge, we are going to be forced to get along. Now, why are you so bitter?"

"It’s personal and none of your damned business."

Commander Darre sighed and did something he rarely did. He walked into a woman’s bedroom, uninvited, and forced through Marissa’s mental blocks to search out the information he sought long before she was ready to share it with anyone on this ship. When he found the information he sighed and leaned against the doorway. No wonder you’re so upset, he thought to her.

Reading my mind? She thought back. That’s rude.

No ruder than your attitude, but I suppose you have a right to be rude.

"Quit reading my mind," she said aloud, spinning around, and glaring at him. "Why are you here?"

"Helping you," he said. "Just as I was ordered to do."

"If you want to help me, you can leave me alone. That’s the only thing I want right now. I want to be left alone." Marissa’s eyes brimmed with tears and he nodded.

"I’ll leave," he said. "If you need something or get lost, page me," he told her as he left her bedroom, and then her quarters.

Marissa heard the door close. She clenched her jaw and angrily began folding the clothes on her bed. Damned, presumptuous, pompous jerk, she though, finishing the chore. As she sought another box, she heard in her head, You really must watch what you think. Marissa stopped, glared at the air above her head, and resolved to improve her mental blocking techniques…soon. Then, she unpacked that box and another until she had finished her unpacking completely. Then, she fell, exhausted, onto her new bed and drifted into an unsettling sleep.

Her dreams were strange, filled with undefined figures and eerie, fleeting feelings. She tossed, turned, woke up several times, and screamed soundlessly. At 0500 hours, she sat up, startled, by something in her dreams. She pressed her hands on her chest as she struggled for breath. When she calmed herself, she lay back on her firm pillows, staring at the darkened ceiling. These were the times when she missed Chris the most. Once upon a time, these kinds of dreams would leave her curled up in strong arms against a warm, hard chest. Now, she rolled over and clung tightly to the pillow where someone else should have been lying.

Chapter Two

"Where’s Dr. Weiss?" Commander Christopher Watson demanded as he walked into Sickbay. The nurse looked at him harshly for a brief moment, and then she pointed towards the doctor’s private office. Chris stalked to the office, rounded the corner, and entered Dr. Weiss’ office. "Tell me something, why is everyone around here treating me like the lowest form of bacterial life?"

"Because you are," she said without looking up from her work. "Now, if that’s all, you should go."

Chris sat down across from Erica. "Not a chance."

"Suit yourself." She continued working on her patient files for several minutes before she sighed and threw them on her desk. "Go away. You’re distracting me."

"Not until I get an answer."

"Good God, you’re supposed to be somewhat intelligent, Commander. Why do you think you’re on everyone’s shit list right now?"

"Because Marissa left the ship? You think I had something to do with that?" Chris’ eyebrows shot up, wrinkling his forehead. "I was just as surprised by her transfer as anyone else. I had nothing to do with her leaving."

"Nothing except a little thing called a divorce," Erica reminded him, leaning back in her chair.

Chris smiled a slightly arrogant smile. "What divorce? You must be misinformed, Erica. I realize my lovely, wandering wife was telling everyone that our divorce was final when she left, but I have yet to put my scan to the decree. Until I do that, our marriage is still valid."

"What kind of bastard are you?" Erica’s voice came out high and amazed. "That is a sick kind of torture and very low…even for you."

"Ever think that maybe I still love her and that’s why I’m refusing to scan it?"

"Not really. I don’t think you’re capable of loving anyone but yourself, Christopher," Erica answered honestly.

"You really can’t stand me, can you?"

"You’re just now understanding that?"

"What did I ever do to you, Erica? Answer me that. What did I ever do to you."

"You hurt my best friend."

"But, what did I do to *you*?"

Erica sighed and looked away. "Some people just aren’t meant to be friends, Chris, and we’re two of those people. We’re best when we’re far apart, so why don’t you go ahead and add some distance between us before I’m forced to use a hypospray on you in a way it was never intended."

Chris rose to his feet. "You realize you just threatened a superior officer?"

"So court-martial me," Erica said as he laughed and shook his head.

"Nope, not a chance. See ya around, Doc."

He turned around and left her office, and Erica shook her head. "What a jerk," she murmured and returned to her work.

As he walked down the corridor, Chris considered Erica’s words. That is a sick kind of torture, even for you, echoed in his head. Maybe refusing to scan their divorce was a sick kind of torture, but no more brutal a form of torture than Marissa leaving him. Half the time he felt physically sick by the loss of her presence. Feeling her constantly in his mind, heart, and soul was something he had become accustomed to, and when she left for the Destiny, the feeling went with her. The loss of her presence was just too much for him to deal with, and so he kept busy, and out of their quarters, as much as possible. When he was busy, he forgot about the ache in his heart, but when he was in their quarters, alone in their bed, the ache was so terrible it nearly brought tears to his eyes. Lately, in his sleep, he would reach out to her side of the bed, fully expecting her to be there, and when he didn’t touch her soft skin, he came immediately awake. His heart pounded, and for a brief, terrible moment, he would think something had happened to her on an away mission, but then the awful truth would bear back down on him and he would remember, she was gone, but gone because she had left him.

He walked by their quarters, gave the door a hard glance, and kept walking. There was no particular destination already set in his head; he just walked until he found himself in the ship’s library. "What am I doing here?" He murmured to himself as he sat down at a terminal, staring a computer screen. Idly, he tapped through the Starfleet schematic database, a weapons file, and finally ended up looking at a roster of planets in the United Federation of Planets. He scrolled down the list until he found the entry he sought. Betazed. He tapped the screen and information about Betazed popped to the screen.

The planet was not very different from Earth. Perhaps, there was more water, but he wasn’t sure. He read through their political profiles, smiling at the mention of the founding houses, before he came to their literary history. Furrowing his brow, he said, "Computer, find all entries having to do with the word Imzadi."

After humming for a moment, a few entries came on the screen. He read the first one, and found the base definition Marissa had told him. Then, he found a definition from the medical base that fascinated him. It spoke of a metabolic link between several Betazoid couples defined as Imzadi. There were two other entries, but their information was pathetically vague. Why can’t I find anything else on this? He wondered silently as he stood up. He walked to his quarters, mulling the questions over in his mind. Before this separation, learning more about the bond he shared with Marissa hadn’t interested him. Now, he wanted to know everything and more about this bond.

In his quarters, he immediately walked to his communications center and ordered, "Computer, establish a comm link to Commander Deanna Troi."

"Acknowledged."

Chris sat down and waited, impatiently, for the link to be acknowledged. When it was, his screen flashed three times, and then Will Riker’s face appeared. He suppressed a sigh as he stared at his father-in-law’s face. "Chris," Will said in surprise. "What can I do for you?"

"Hello Admiral," Chris said, leaning forward. "I was hoping to speak with Deanna. Is she around?"

"No, she’s at Starfleet Medical giving a lecture."

Chris sighed, leaned forward, and kneaded his brow for a moment. "Chris, what is it?" Will asked the troubled young man he had come to care about as much as his daughter. "I realize I’m not as easy to talk to as Deanna, but if I can help, I’d like to try."

"It’s sort of personal, Sir."

"A lot of what has gone on between you and my daughter is personal, and I know about it. Does this have to do with her?"

"In a way. In a way, it has to do with all of us."

"Explain." Will leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands. He had all the time in the world, right now, to talk to his son-in-law.

Chris took a deep breath and looked right at his father-in-law. "What is Imzadi?"

The reaction he hoped for played across the older man’s face. Will’s face slightly paled and he cleared his throat. "I would think you could answer that, Chris."

"I know it means beloved, but that’s not all it means. I’m not stupid, Admiral, no matter how stupid my actions of late have been. I know there’s more to it than just the definition Marissa gave me."

"It’s an empathic and telepathic bond between certain Betazoids."

"I’m not Betazoid."

"Nor am I, but I can damned well tell you what Deanna is thinking and doing at this exact moment." Will propped his head up on his elbow and looked away from the monitor as he spoke. "The easiest way I can explain it is a linking of the minds. When Deanna and I first got together, it was as if I found a part of my soul in her that I didn’t know was missing. Once I was with her, I was whole again. When I was away from her, I was miserable. I could sense her in my mind and in my heart. I could hear her thoughts in my head. It was the damnedest thing. It was something I had never experienced with any other woman, and I had been with a lot of women."

Chris chuckled. Will Riker’s conquests were something of a legend throughout Starfleet, but so was his romance with Deanna Troi. "That’s how I feel about Marissa. I can hear her in my mind when she’s near me. I feel awful without her, Will. I feel like there’s a part of me gone," he admitted quietly.

"Then, why did you let her go?" Will asked him equally as quiet.

"I don’t know. I do know that our divorce isn’t final, and I won’t let it become final," he said with conviction.

"What do you mean?"

"I haven’t scanned the divorce decree, and I don’t plan to sign it."

"Does Marissa know?"

"I told her before she transferred to the Destiny."

Will sighed and thought for a moment before he said, "Be careful that you don’t unintentionally drive her away, Chris. Marissa is very much like me. She’s not a patient person, nor is she one who takes adversity or humiliation easily."

"No offense intended, Sir, but I lived with her for years. I know exactly how stubborn she can be, and I also know her limits. What I don’t understand is why she’s forgetting that she knows my limits."

"Which are?"

"She pushed me too far when she left," Chris said assuredly. "Sometimes I think that’s what she was trying to do, but when she did it, she didn’t know what else to do, so she left." He stopped and thought back to the day that she’d left the ship. "She told me the day she left that if I’d only have contested the divorce she would have come back. That would have been a sign that I still wanted her." He raked a hand through his hair. "How in the hell was I supposed to know that? I’m not a mind reader."

"But, you should have been with her," Will said gently. "If you are truly Imzadi, you know what the other is thinking, feeling, and doing. You should have known, Chris," Will admonished.

Pain creased the younger man’s forehead and he said quietly, "I never took the time to learn about this Imzadi thing when I was with her, and now that she’s gone, it’s all I want to know."

"Is that why you wanted to talk to Deanna?" Chris nodded and Will said, "There’s nothing different that she would tell you. Chris, don’t make the same mistake I did all those years ago with Marissa’s mother. I put my career ahead of everything, including the one person I loved more than my next breath, and it caused me to lose her and my daughter. Think about that, Chris. You were there when Marissa found out about me being her father. I’m not saying that is going to happen to you, but it damned well could happen. What’s more likely to happen is you’re going to completely lose Marissa because you keep pushing her away because of your career. Don’t make that mistake. The glory you get out of your career is nothing compared to the love of your soulmate."

"You think we’re soulmates?"

Will’s eyes twinkled as his twisted humor reared its head. "I think you and my daughter are soulmates. I think you and I had better just stick to the role of father-in-law and son-in-law."

Chris shook his head and laughed in spite of himself. Then, he sobered and said, "I don’t know how to get her back."

"And, I have no answers for you on that one," Will said, growing serious again. His daughter’s happiness was paramount to him. "My only advice to you is to give her a little bit of time to adjust to the Destiny and being single again before you go after her."

"You know, it’s been years since I had to romance a woman," Chris mussed.

"Perhaps that’s the fatal flaw of your relationship, then. Never stop romancing her, Chris. That’s the best way to show them you care." Will smiled at the young man. "Think about what I’ve said and contact me or Deanna anytime, Chris."

"Thanks Will."

"Riker out," he said and the screen went black. Chris leaned back in his chair and thought of his father-in-law’s advice. "So, I give her some time, I learn how to use this link I have with her, and then I go after her again," he said confident of his course.

On the Destiny, Marissa awoke with a headache, circles under her eyes, and an attitude to match her appearance. She glared at everyone she passed in the corridors as she made her way to the bridge to talk to Captain Raymer. Sometime, in her sleep, she had decided to take the position being offered to her; however, as her reflection caught her eye, she groaned and changed directions. Before she showed up on the bridge, she needed to stop in Sickbay. She looked awful, and desperately needed something for her headache.

Walking into the Sickbay on the Destiny was quite different from walking into the Sickbay on the Nighthawk. No one looked up when she entered, no one offered her a welcoming smile, and there was no one there that she knew. So, she waited, off to the side, for a nurse to notice her. When one finally did, Marissa felt as if her head was going to explode. Damn these headaches, she thought. It was hereditary, that she knew for sure because her father suffered from them every once in a while.

"Can I help you?" A bored sounding nurse asked Marissa, holding a PADD and waiting.

"I have a headache." Marissa cringed as she spoke. Even the sound of her voice made her head hurt.

"I’ll go find a hypospray." The nurse sounded almost angry as she hurried away. Marissa watched in amusement and thought, sorry I don’t have a worse aliment for you to fix. Her mouth twitched into a smile, and she was fighting the urge to laugh as the nurse reappeared. She pressed the hypospray to Marissa’s neck and said, "That should take affect fairly quickly."

"Thank you," she said, turning to leave Sickbay and rubbing her neck. Quickly, she walked to the nearest turbolift and ordered it to the main bridge. It stopped midway to the destination to pick up another person. When the doors opened, Marissa groaned as Commander Darre stepped inside. He grinned at her and said, "Main Bridge." Then, he looked over. "Good morning, Lieutenant."

"Commander," Marissa acknowledged, looking away.

Looking away from me isn’t going to make me disappear, you know, Darre thought to Marissa with a crooked smile.

"Stay out of my head, Commander." Marissa squinted at the wall. For a brief moment, she thought it had moved. She shook her head and stared straight forward at the door. When waves began to appear on the smooth surface, she knew something wasn’t right. "Commander," she said, thinking she was yelling but her voice came out so lightly he hadn’t heard her, so she did the only thing she could do. Closing her eyes to steady herself she telepathically yelled, Commander, something’s wrong.

"What do you mean?" He asked sharply, looking down at the swaying and slightly pale young woman. "Lieutenant?" He reached out for her elbow to steady her. "Are you all right?"

It took all her strength to shake her head. He slipped his arm around her shoulders just as she collapsed. "Transporter Room Two, medical emergency! Two to Sickbay, now!" Darre yelled, dematerializing with Marissa in his arms as the turbolift doors opened to the Main Bridge. Their security officer glanced into the empty turbolift and shook his head. "We need to run a diagnostic on the turbolift system," he said to the ops officer.

When Darre appeared with Marissa in his arms, it brought people running from every direction in Sickbay. An older man approached, bearing a tricorder, scanning Marissa as Jeyelar placed her on a biobed.

"What happened?" He asked Jeyelar.

"I have no idea. We were in the turbolift and she fainted," he answered tersely. "Is she all right?"

"Her levels are all over the place," the doctor muttered, reaching for a hypospray as the nurse who had treated Marissa came over.

"Doc, I just gave her 10ccs of asinolyathin," she said.

"For what?"

"She had a headache"

"Go pull her medical history," he said sternly. "Now."

The nurse ran as the doctor turned to Jeyelar. "There’s a possibility she’s allergic to asinolyathin."

"What is asinolyathin?" Jeyelar crossed his arms over his chest.

"A muscle relaxant."

"Dr. Hassid!" The nurse cried, running over with a PADD containing Marissa’s medical history in her head. "She’s allergic!"

"Damn!" He hissed, reaching for a hypospray and pressing it to her neck. "This will counteract the asinolyathin. Before you give anything to a new crewmember, make damned sure you know what they’re allergic to!"

"Yes Sir," the nurse said meekly, quickly disappearing as Hassid shook his head.

"Will she be all right?" Jeyelar looked down at Marissa.

"In a few hours."

"I’ll notify the captain," Jeyelar said as he left Sickbay with the image of Marissa, vulnerable and helpless, burned in his mind.

The PADD he had been reading fell from his hands, clattering onto the floor with a loud crash. Several members of the bridge crew glanced up and his way. Even the captain gave him a strange look. He shook his head as he bent down to pick up the fallen PADD. "Commander Watson, are you all right?" The captain asked Chris in a low tone as he sat back up.

"Uh…Yeah…I’m fine," Chris stammered, swallowing hard as his head began to pound. He winced and rubbed his scalp, trying to assuage the pain. Then, his eyes widened and he went stiff. "Marissa," he whispered.

"Did you say something, Commander?" Captain Wicks looked over at him. Seeing Chris’ glassy eyes and stricken face, he reached over and touched the younger man’s shoulder. "Commander, perhaps you should take the rest of this shift off."

Chris swallowed even harder and shook his head. "No, Sir, I’m fine."

"You said ‘Marissa,’" the captain pointed out gently.

"Something’s wrong with her," he said assuredly. "She’s okay, though."

"How do you know?"

"Because I can feel her," he said, and his eyes widened. "I can feel her!"

"Commander?"

"I haven’t been able to sense her since she left the ship. Something *is* wrong." The excitement in his voice belayed the trepidation he felt. He closed his eyes, concentrated, and hoped to hell he wasn’t losing his mind. Marissa, I can feel you, he thought across light years of space and time.

On the biobed, Marissa opened her eyes and sat up slowly. Her head pounded fiercely and her stomach churned. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to swing her legs over the side of the biobed and lower them to the ground. Before she stood her headache suddenly cleared and she very distinctly heard a voice in her mind. I can feel you, she heard whispered to her consciousness. Then, a second later, it was gone and replaced again by the pounding of her head. Confusion creased her lovely face as she struggled to figure out the voice. She shrugged a second later, knowing she could be picking up someone else’s thoughts on the ship.

"Hey! Where do you think you’re going, Lieutenant?" A friendly voice asked from behind her.

"To the bridge. I should be on duty," Marissa replied, turning around and disguising a wince.

"Not today," Dr. Hassid told her, shaking his finger. "I understand you have a headache."

"I came in earlier to get something for it, but obviously it didn’t work," she said as he forced her to sit down on the biobed.

"Could be because you are allergic to the medicine you were given. We had to counteract it." He scanned her with his tricorder as they spoke. "Your neural levels are still quite elevated. Do you still have a headache?"

"Does this ship have warp nacelles?" Marissa joked weakly. She nodded her head. "Yes, I still have a headache."

He snapped his tricorder shut and sat beside her on the biobed. "You passed out in the turbolift on your way to the bridge. Commander Darre brought you to Sickbay. Luckily, he was in the turbolift with you."

"Lucky me," Marissa said under her breath. "What can you do for my headache, Doc?" She asked, turning the attention back to her current aliment.

"Not a lot since you’re allergic to the common treatments. My best recommendation is that you employ some old home remedies."

"Dark rooms? Cold cloth on the forehead? Hot bath? Steam to the face? Tea?" Marissa laughed. "I’ve tried them all, Doc. It doesn’t work."

"How long have you been having these headaches?"

"Most of my life. My father has some nasty ones every once in awhile. I suppose I inherited this from him."

"You’re also a hybrid child."

"Excuse me?"

"Your mother is Betazoid while your father is human. You have a hybrid physiology."

"My mother is half-Betazoid," she corrected him. "I still don’t understand what you’re saying, though."

"Sometimes hybrid children, especially hybrid children of telepaths or empaths, are more prone to physiological aliments, like headaches. Yours may stem from the cells in your metacampus that allow you to be empathic warring with your more human characteristics."

"Terran Standard, Doc," Marissa said impatiently.

"In other words, your Betazoid half is battling your human self and you’re the one getting the raw end of the deal," an amused voice said behind her.

She stiffened and nodded her head, internally damning herself for recognizing his spirit before his voice. "What brings you to Sickbay, Commander?" Dr. Hassid asked, noting the change in Marissa’s demeanor.

"Captain sent me to check on Lieutenant Riker," he said nonchalantly. Marissa smirked and thought back to him, Liar. He frowned and glared at the top of her head.

Sensing that silent communication was ensuing between the commander and lieutenant, Dr. Hassid shrugged and said, "Other than a nasty headache, Lieutenant Riker is fine. However, since she did recently experience an allergic reaction and lose consciousness, I want her off duty for the rest of the day."

"Already done, Doc. Lieutenant Riker is off duty until she makes a decision on a choice offered to her yesterday by the captain."

"Which I was going to the bridge to inform him of when that damned reaction happened," she muttered.

"Unless it’s deathly important it can wait until tomorrow, Lieutenant," Dr. Hassid said sternly. "You are to go to your quarters and rest."

"Yes Sir," Marissa said, leaping off the biobed. She winced and made for the door of Sickbay. At the turbolift, Commander Darre caught up with her.

"You’re quick."

"Maybe I was trying to get away from you," she said as the doors opened and they stepped inside.

"Sorry, I was sent to check on you by the captain, and now the doctor has ordered me to see you back to your quarters. Evidently, he doesn’t trust you. He said something about the way Rikers ignore doctors’ orders."

Marissa snorted. "Must have talked to Beverly."

"Who’s Beverly?" Darre asked as the turbolift stopped and Marissa stepped out.

"A friend of my parents," she called over her shoulder, practically running to her quarters.

"You really don’t like me do you?" He called after her, almost jogging to catch her.

"Never said that, Commander," she said, keying in her security code. The doors opened and she stepped inside. He followed her inside, unwelcome and uninvited. He looked around the quarters, surprised at the progress she had made in less than twenty-four hours.

"You have a flair for decorating," he told her, appreciating what she had done with the small living room.

"Not really. It’s more that I have a low tolerance for being bored. When I get bored I tend to either clean or decorate," she said, stopping outside her bedroom to rub her temples.

He saw her and walked over to her. "Is the headache really that bad?"

Unintentionally, Marissa shivered. His quiet, concerned inquiry so close to her ear reminded her of Chris. She closed her eyes and remembered the first time she had experienced a headache with Chris. They had been together only a few months, and it was after a long duty shift. Her eyes had ached after staring at the navigational controls all day, and once the shift was over she had met Chris in Ten-Forward. After taking one look at her pained face, he took her from Ten-Forward to his quarters. Marissa smiled and shivered again at the memory of what happened after that.

"You know, not that I mind being compared to your husband, but…" Darre let his voice trail off in dry amusement.

Marissa snapped her eyes open and she spun around. "Believe me, I would never compare you to Chris," Marissa said with a toss of her hair.

"But, you just did," he pointed out gently. "Don’t worry about it. I’m glad my concern sparked a happy memory for you. I thought all you had were negative memories of him."

"No, not all of them," Marissa said quietly, walking over to the couch and stretching out. She closed her eyes and flung her arm over them to block out all light. Darre sat down across from her in a chair and waited patiently. "He really isn’t that bad, you know," she said quietly. "He’s a damned fine first officer."

"So why’d you leave?"

"His career became more important than me," Marissa replied. "I can’t remember my life without him, and I sure as hell have no idea what I’m doing without him, but I know for damned sure I couldn’t be second fiddle to the ship anymore."

"So you divorced him."

Marissa studied Darre’s tone and thoughts for sarcasm. Only when she found none did she reply to him. "I didn’t think I had a choice. He never made a move to contest the divorce until the day it was final. He told me he wouldn’t sign it because he wasn’t letting me go."

"So, you’re still married?"

"I have no idea." Marissa laughed. "Isn’t that ridiculous?"

Darre shook his head. "Well, it’s not exactly ordinary."

"Nothing about my life is ordinary, Commander," Marissa said wryly.

"Nothing about you is ordinary, Marissa. Why should your life be an exception?" He questioned quietly. They fell silent for a few minutes until Darre asked, "How’s the headache?"

"Still awful," she said cheerfully.

"May I try something?"

"As long as it involves both of us being clothed," Marissa joked weakly.

Darre shook his head and laughed as he moved behind where she lay. "Uncover you eyes, but keep your eyes closed. Focus your thoughts on anything but the pain. Put yourself in a time and place where you feel nothing but peace," he said soothingly, his hands coming to rest on her head, forming a halo around her scalp with his fingertips. Gently, they began massaging her scalp through the thick curls. "Keep yourself in that place. Don’t think about anything but where you are and what you’re feeling while you’re there. Forget about this ship, forget about Starfleet, forget about everything except what makes you happy and secure."

Marissa sighed and visibly relaxed. Seeing that, Darre increased the pressure of his fingertips and closed his eyes. Carefully, he projected peaceful and secure thoughts into Marissa’s subconscious. He pushed through her mental barriers, searching for any psychological reason for her pain. By pure accident, he stumbled into an area that was completely locked to him. It was as if that part of her mind was a steel door, impenetrable by the strongest of telepaths. He backed away from it and gently pulled himself from her mind. Then, he stopped the action of his fingertips and said, "Any better?"

"Much," she answered truthfully, sitting up. "Where did you learn that?"

"On Betazed. You should spend more time there."

Marissa snorted. "When? When do I have time?"

"Take the time, Marissa. Take the time to take care of yourself," Darre advised her.

"I’ll try to remember that, Sir," she said, looking at him with a smile.

"I think after all this you can call me Jeyelar, off duty," he said with a smirk, unable to tear his eyes from her cerulean depths. He felt something in that brief connection…a fear…a longing…a hatred. He almost cringed and tore his gaze from hers. "I should go. Call me if you need me, Lieutenant."

He was half way to the door when Marissa’s quiet voice stopped him briefly. "Jeyelar, you can call me Marissa. I won’t bite you. This time," she said with a smile. He nodded his head and continued out of her quarters.

Chapter Three

"Grapevine has it you had an episode on the bridge this morning."

Chris stopped the fork halfway to his mouth and looked up at the smirking face of their CMO. Shrugging, he shoved the food into his mouth, chewed for a bit, swallowed, and said, "You really shouldn’t listen to ship’s gossip."

"Is it true?" Erica asked, sitting down across from him, poking her finger into the side of his dinner, and sucking off the bit of rice from her fingertip.

"Thanks for ruining my dinner," he announced, shoving the plate away from him.

Erica flipped a lock of shoulder length, auburn hair behind her shoulder and laughed with her blue eyes twinkling. "I didn’t ruin your dinner. You know, I do wash my hands more than once a month."

"I’d hope so. God only knows what you do in Sickbay."

"I treat sick people and do research," she retorted hotly. Erica was proud of her work, and any insult, no matter how little or sarcastic was regarded as a slur. "So, what’s this episode I keep hearing about? Anything that’ll bring you to Sickbay soon? I’d love to perform some experiments on you." Erica’s eyes twinkled as Chris winced.

"No thanks. If I get sick, I’ll get the EMH to treat me," he told her.

"You’re avoiding the question."

"No, I’m choosing not to answer it." Chris smiled sardonically at her and she frowned. "Erica, whatever, if anything, happened on the bridge today with me, it doesn’t involve you."

"Fine. Be that way," she said sullenly. "How’s Marissa?"
Chris choked on his drink. He placed the glass of water down on the table and glared at her. "I wouldn’t have a clue. I figured you had talked to her. I haven’t."

"Have you scanned your divorce yet?"

"Nope. Don’t plan to, either. Haven’t we already had this conversation?"

Erica rolled her eyes. "You know, if you really loved her, you’d go after her."

"Did you ever think that maybe I’m giving her time to adjust to the Destiny?"

"Give her too much time, and you’re going to be the last thing on her mind."

"Thanks, Erica," he said sarcastically. "Marissa could never forget me."

"No, but you could be the last thing on her mind."

Briefly, Chris considered shoving the full plate of food into Erica’s lap. No woman he had ever met had the power to exasperate him like Erica Weiss, and what made it even worse was the fact that she knew it. She used it to her advantage. She got under his skin. "Erica, is tormenting me the highlight of your day? Do you wake up every morning and think about how you’re going to torment me?"

"Don’t flatter yourself." Erica grinned and said, "I don’t wake up alone enough for you to be on my mind."

"You know…you’re right. Marissa did tell me once that you got around the ship. Is there anyone on this ship, besides me, you haven’t slept with?"

Erica’s mouth dropped open, and in one quick motion she grabbed the nearly full glass of water and flung it on him. "How dare you say something like that?" She hissed, jumping to her feet, knocking over her chair in the process. She flung her hair defiantly behind her and said as she left, "You wouldn’t be lucky enough to have me, Watson."

Needing the last word, Chris shot one final verbal barb at her. "Who said I ever wanted you, Weiss?" He watched Erica pause, clench her fists tightly, and slightly shake her head before she wisely left the lounge.

After Commander Darre left, Marissa checked her messages. Several communiqués were from friends, congratulating her on her transfer to the Destiny or commiserating with her over her divorce. One was from her grandmother, which she wrinkled her nose at and put aside. The most recent one was from her father. She smiled and ordered the computer to display the message. It was a very simple and direct message that said, "I need to speak with you." Faintly concerned, Marissa had the computer establish a comm link to Earth and waited for her father to answer it.

"What’s wrong?" She asked the second his face appeared on the screen.

Will chuckled and shook his head. "Nothing’s wrong, Marissa. Why would you think that something’s wrong?"

"Your communiqué was so abrupt. I thought something was wrong." She heaved a heavy sigh in relief.

"No, nothing wrong. I just wanted to see how my little girl was doing," he said with a smile.

Marissa smiled tolerantly and said, "Fine."

Although Will smiled back at his daughter, he knew she was lying. It was obvious just by looking at her face. She was paler than normal, dark circles formed half moons under her eyes, and there was weariness in her voice. Will shook his head and said quietly, "You look like you could use some rest, sweetheart."

"I’m fine, Dad."

"Then, why do you look exhausted?" Will pressed.

"Because I am!" She exploded. "I’m tired, and I have a killer headache, and I’ve spent all day in Sickbay!"

"Why?"

"I had an allergic reaction to something they gave me for the headache."

"Are you sure you’re okay?"
"Dad!"

Will held up his hands and surrendered to his daughter. "Okay, okay. Just take care of yourself, honey."

"I will."

"Have you talked to Chris?" Will watched her face carefully, but it remained unreadable.

"Nope, and I don’t want to talk to him," she told him. "Listen, Dad, I want to go lie down," she lied.

"Give your mother a call sometime soon," he told her.

"I will. Bye Dad." She ended the conversation and heaved another sigh of relief when her monitor went blank. Not that she didn’t love her father, and it wasn’t that she wasn’t thankful to have her father in her life, finally, but sometimes he was just too damned overprotective of her and too intrusive into her life. She realized it was because he wasn’t around when she was little and needed and overprotective and intrusive father. What she felt he didn’t understand was that she needed space and she needed her parents to be less involved in her life. "You have light-years between you and them, and you still want more space," Marissa said aloud, and then she chuckled, rubbing her eyes. When she opened her eyes again, she surveyed the small quarters with a sigh. She was confined to her quarters, there was nothing to do in her quarters, and she was more than a little bored.

"Computer, music…Early twentieth century jazz. Earth," Marissa said, suddenly.

The music began to float quietly through her quarters. She stood up, walked into the living room, and shook her head. "Computer, increase volume level ten percent," she said, turning in a slow circle. The volume increased, but it still was not enough. "Computer, increase volume another ten percent." Now, the music yelled through her quarters. She smiled, satisfied, and closed her eyes as she swayed in time to the music. Before she knew it she was slowly dancing around her quarters and the door chime was sounding. The volume level prevented her from hearing the chime or the door when it opened. When someone touched her shoulder she immediately went into defense mode and struck at her perceived attacker. Her arms were caught in a tight grasp and she was spun around.

"Computer, stop music," Commander Darre said tightly as he let Marissa’s arms go. "It’s not often we get noise complaints around here, Lieutenant," he said as Marissa’s face flushed sheepishly.

"I apologize, Commander. I was…"

"And, I doubt dancing around to loud music is going to help your head, nor is it what the doctor had in mind for you!"

"Again, Sir, I apologize."

"I don’t want anymore complaints tonight."

"I’ve apologized twice. I will not do it again," Marissa said, her temper flaring. "I realize the music was louder than it should have been. I’m sorry if it bothered the people around me. I’ll be quiet. Is that satisfactory, Commander?"

"You look and act like you feel better," Jeyelar said, swiftly changing the topic. Marissa sighed as he sat down.

"I thought you were gone for the day. Why are you staying? Aren’t you needed on the bridge?"

"Probably," he said, nodding his head as he stood back to his feet. "Don’t make me come down here again."

"Believe me, that’s the last thing I want," Marissa said bitingly. Jeyelar grinned broadly and left her quarters. She shook her head, her mood instantly soured, and as the door shut the computer signaled there was a communiqué waiting for her.

"Computer, access message," she said, sitting at her terminal.

The monitor flickered to life and she found herself staring into her husband’s face.

Chapter Four

"What do you want?" Marissa said, instantly angry at the sight of him.

"I’d think you know the answer to that," Chris said with a smile, noting the slightly flushed skin and dark circles under her eyes. "Are you all right?"
"I’m fine," she snapped.

"You don’t look fine. Do you have a headache?" He asked.

"Don’t worry about it. What do you want?" She asked again.

"Actually, I just wanted to make sure you were all right and that things were okay on the Destiny."

"Things are wonderful here, and I’m not your concern anymore."

"Like it or not, you will always be my concern," he said with a possessiveness in his voice that positively annoyed her.

Marissa sighed and lowered her head to her fingertips. She massaged her forehead gingerly and knew her headache would be back with a vengeance. "Chris, I don’t have the time or desire to play word games with you tonight."

"I wanted to see if you were all right, Marissa. I didn’t know this was going to become a verbal battle."

"It’s always a war of words with us."

"It didn’t used to be, and it wasn’t always a war of words," he said with a suggestiveness in his voice.

"God, do you ever think about anything else?" She said, rolling her eyes.

"Yes. You," he said pointedly. He saw a muscle jump in Marissa’s jaw and knew he had her to the breaking point, so he finally came to the real reason he had called her. Quietly, almost too quietly, he told her what had happened on the bridge today. "I know something happened to you today." Startled, she stared at the screen, but his gaze remained averted to something on his desk. "I was sitting on the bridge with the captain on my shift. I wasn’t doing anything in particular…just sitting there. I was thinking about you, but I think about you all the time, lately, and I was thinking about how I never really learned to use the bond between us. In fact, I talked to your dad earlier about it and what this bond really is, but there wasn’t anything he told me that I didn’t already know. Then, all of a sudden my head felt as if it were going to split open, and I knew, I just knew, it had something to do with you. I said your name aloud, sitting there on the bridge; I just said your name. Captain Wicks looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but there I was sitting there, staring off into space, knowing that something was wrong with you because I could feel it." Finally, he looked up and let their eyes meet. "I knew something was wrong with you, Marissa, and don’t bother lying about it. You don’t have to tell me what happened, but it’s enough that I know something did happen, and I know that by looking at you. The real reason I wanted to talk with you wasn’t to tell you this. It was because I needed to make sure you were all right."

Marissa sat there, speechless, as she stared at his face on the monitor. He smiled a bittersweet smile at her and said, "I’ll go now, and I promise not to make a habit of calling you up because I know you want nothing to do with me. After all, you said that yourself. Watson out."

The viewer went black and she still sat there, agape, staring at nothing. Then, she pressed her hand to it as tears welled up in her eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away with a short burst of anger. "Dammit and damn you, Christopher Watson!" She shouted, lowering her head to her hands as her shoulders began to shake. "Dammit and damn you."

Three days later, Marissa felt and looked more like herself. After days of suffering with a monstrous headache, it was suddenly gone. She stood in front of her full-length mirror smoothing her hair back into ponytail much like something her mother might have worn during her days on the Enterprise. Then, she quickly apprised herself before going to duty for the first time as the second officer aboard the Destiny. Her eyes slowly studied her reflection in the mirror from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. She could see nothing out of place or wrong with her appearance. The circles under her eyes were gone, the paleness of her skin was finally gone and replaced by her normal olive coloring, her eyes sparkled brilliantly, brightly, and anxiously, and her heart beat with an excitement that had been absent for far too long.

As she left her quarters and headed to the bridge her mind drifted back to her first full day aboard the Enterprise. She smiled nostalgically while she waited for the turbolift to stop at her floor. Then, she had been a very scared, very young woman. Now, she was just slightly nervous and extremely excited. Thinking about that day brought images of Chris to her mind, but she pushed him to the back of her mind with little effort. Her memories of him were not going to ruin this day for her.

When she walked onto the bridge she reminded herself that this assignment really wasn’t that different from her others. She would still man the conn, and from time to time, she might man the navigational controls. The only difference was she would now be on nearly every away mission, and should something happen to the captain and first officer, she would command the ship. She shivered for no real reason. This chance at command was all she had wanted all her life, but now when faced with it, it scared her to death. She managed to hide her fear as she walked onto the bridge and slid behind the conn. The only notable signal was the way her fingers shook as she pressed on the control panel.

Are you all right?

The thought touched her mind so unexpectedly that she jumped slightly in her seat before she glared and threw a thought back to Commander Darre. I’m fine. Get out of my head.

She heard his silent laughter and it infuriated her even more. So intent on her infuriation with Darre, Marissa did not notice the blinking light on her systems display, and when she did finally notice it, it was almost too late. "Unknown vessel approaching!" She yelled as the first volley hit their shields. Tactical confirmed her, needlessly, as a second volley hit the shields.

"Captain to the bridge!" Jeyelar called out, reaching to steady himself as he said, "Red alert! All hands to battle stations! Shields at maximum and train weapons on that ship! Give me comm frequency!"

"Established, Sir."

"This is Commander Jeyelar Darre of the Federation Starship Destiny. Identify yourself!"

"No response, Sir," the comm officer said.

"They’re charging weapons again, Sir."

"Evasive maneuvers," Darre said. "Computer, locate Captain Raymer!"
"Captain Raymer is in Sickbay."

"Damn! Bridge to Sickbay. Dr. Hassid, what’s going on?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Bridge!" The doctor sounded harried. "We’re a mess up here. Causalities coming in from all bridges. Several people were injured in the lounge when that first volley hit."

"What about Captain Raymer?"

"Apparently he was in Engineering when the attack occurred. A panel exploded."

"Is he all right?"

"Too soon to tell. Sickbay out."

Jeyelar stood there, stunned for a moment, in the knowledge that he was now in command of their ship. Marissa sensed his panicked emotions and thought quickly, Jeyelar, get a hold of yourself. You’ve got nearly a thousand people on this ship counting on you to get us through this alive. Evasive maneuvers will only work for so long, and you know that. Either get us out of here or have us attack, but sitting here doing nothing makes us sitting ducks.

For no reason anyone else understood, Jeyelar began nodding his head. Marissa sighed a great sigh of relief as he said, "Charge weapons. Target their weapons array and fire phasers," he said calmly, sitting down in the captain’s chair.

"Phasers ready, Sir."

"Fire," he said with a deadly calm.

The white blue beam sparkled brilliantly off the other ship’s shields. Although it was a beautiful display, it had no effect on their enemy. "Shields still at maximum, Sir."

"Load torpedoes and fire at will, combine with phasers."

"No effect, Sir."

"What the hell are their shields made of, and who the hell are they?" He swore, jumping to his feet and leaping to the tactical station. As he studied the readout quickly Marissa said in a stunned voice, "They’re gone, Commander."

"What?" Jeyelar jerked his head up and looked at the viewscreen. It was blank. He tapped in several things at the tactical station to confirm what they were seeing. "They are gone," he whispered, walking down to the command center. "That narrows down the playing field."

"Sir?"

"There are few races we know of with cloaking technology. Klingons, Romulans, Borg, and Cardassians."

"Why would the Klingons attack us?" Marissa asked, spinning around in her chair, her tactical mind spinning with options. "We have a treaty with them."

"Shot to hell in the Dominion War," someone else muttered.

"And, put back together when Martok became chancellor," Marissa returned.

"Friend of yours?" Darre asked with suddenly gleaming eyes.

"Not really. I know him. He’s a friend of my father’s," she said carefully, sensing Jeyelar’s sudden shift in emotions.

"Get a link to Starfleet Headquarters. We need to report this incident and find out what we can from Martok."

"Why do you think this was the Klingons? Wouldn’t we know? We know their ships. This was not a ship we knew. To me, that makes it either Borg or Romulan."

"I’d like to narrow things down as far as we can, Lieutenant," Jeyelar said as he turned. "I’ll be in Sickbay. You have the bridge, Lieutenant, and I want to know what Command has to say."

"Yes, Sir," Marissa said, rising and taking her place at the command center.

A few moments after Jeyelar left, the link was established to command. "Who do we want?" The communications officer asked, looking at Marissa, who fought rolling her eyes.

"Admiral Riker. And, someone find out the location of Ambassador Worf."

"Who?"

"Ambassador Worf. Just do it!" Marissa said with an icy blue glare as her father’s face filled the screen. She turned to her father with a worried expression. He made a quick glance around the bridge and realized she was currently in command, so he became her admiral instead of her father.

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant Riker?" He asked, trying not to smile at his daughter.

"We were just attacked, Sir, by an unknown vessel"

"Details?"

"They fired at us, we fired at them, they disappeared."

"Excuse me?"

"They disappeared, Sir. Obviously, they had cloaking technology."

"Obviously," Will said wryly. "Suspects?"

"Commander Darre believes a number of possibilities. Namely, the Romulans, the Klingons, the Cardassians, and the Borg."

"You sound doubtful, Lieutenant."

"I believe they are all plausible sources, Sir."

"But?"

"It was an unknown ship, Sir. Also, I see no reason for the Klingons to attack us. The Cardassians seem doubtful as we are so far from their quadrant. That leaves the Borg and the Romulans, and if I had to place money on it, I’d take the Romulans over the Borg."

"Why?" Will leaned forward, fascinated with his daughter’s line of thinking.

"The Romulans have been far too quiet for far too long. Also, the Borg seem out of commission, especially knowing what we know from Captain Janeway and the Voyager. And, as for the Cardassians, they’re still rebuilding their fleet from the Dominion War. With Martok over the Klingon Empire, I doubt he would wage war against us without cause. This hit and run has Romulan written all over it."

"I’ll make some inquiries around here, Lieutenant. I’ll contact Martok and see what he knows and get back to you."

"In the meantime, we are tracking down Ambassador Worf. If anyone knows anything, it’ll be him and Martok."
"Good thinking, Lieutenant. Riker out."

The viewscreen went blank and Marissa spun around. "Anything on Worf?’

"What happened on the bridge, Commander?" Captain Raymer asked weakly, as he sat up to look at his first officer.

"The ship appeared out of nowhere, took some hits, we fired back, they disappeared. Lieutenant Riker is contacting Starfleet Command and hoping for some information there."

"What do you think?"

"Klingon, Cardassian, Borg, or Romulan are my guesses."

"And the rest of the senior staff?"

"I didn’t give them a chance. I felt you needed to know."

"Call a senior staff meeting and brainstorm. I’ll be down as soon as the damned doctor lets me out of here. Evidently, I hit my head harder than I thought." Raymer winced even as he spoke.

That piece of news was something Darre already knew. He knew exactly how much pain Raymer was really enduring. He patted the captain’s shoulder and said, "Understood, Sir."

Darre was almost out of Sickbay when Raymer’s voice stopped him. "Jeyelar, you might rely on Lieutenant Riker in this situation. She has extensive experience with both the Romulans and the Klingons."

"Yes Sir," he said tightly as he left. As soon as he was out of Sickbay he hit his comm badge and said, "Senior staff report to the conference room."

On the bridge, Marissa headed directly to the conference room and looked around at the rest of the senior staff. Slowly, they trickled in, and she took her seat as they waited for Darre to arrive. When he did, he looked and felt angry enough that Marissa flinched. What’s gotten into you? She thought to him. He settled a furious gaze on her and she knew for some reason, he was unexplainably furious with her.

"Captain Raymer is out of commission for awhile. Until then, I am acting Captain and Lieutenant Commander Riker is acting first officer. Now, I want to know what Command had to say."

"Admiral Riker said he would contact Chancellor Martok and get back to us."

Darre nodded. "Good. Now, I’d like to hear from the rest of you who you think is responsible for this attack." Everyone looked at each other uncertainly before Darre exploded. "I meant now!" He roared.

Marissa raised her eyebrows. "I still maintain it was the Romulans." Nods and murmurs of agreement came from around the table. "This kind of attack is their M.O. It’s a hit and run. That just smells of Romulans, Sir."

"Bridge to Lieutenant Riker."

"Go ahead," she said, hitting her comm badge, looking away from Darre’s furious expression.

"The comm link you wanted has been established."

"Link it to the conference room, please," she said.

"Understood."

The viewscreen in the conference flickered on and a huge, imposing Klingon filled the screen. Some in the room flinched at seeing him, but Marissa merely grinned. The Klingon smiled, seeing her, which made them flinch more. "Worf!" She said.

"Marissa. It is good to see you. I knew it had to be you or your mother. No one else could track me down beside the Klingon Empire."

"How are you, Worf?"
"Fair, and you?"

"Equally fair."

"This is not a social call, is it?"

"Not at all," she said with a wide smile. "I need some information."

"That I have?"

"That I hope you have."

"Ask."

Marissa leaned back in her chair and said, "Is the Klingon Empire building secret ships and planning to attack the Federation?"

The question was so preposterous to Worf that he let lose a great chuckle, for laughter was something Worf rarely indulged in doing. "Absolutely not, Lieutenant. Surely you know we do have a treaty with you and it is a treaty that the Chancellor greatly appreciates."

"You’re speaking for Martok?" Jeyelar asked, jumping into the conversation. Worf glared at him and then glanced back to Marissa.

"Who is this pet’q?" Worf spat.

"Commander Darre. First officer of the Destiny," Marissa replied.

Worf glared at Jeyelar and glowered, "Yes, I speak for my father."

"You are the chancellor’s son?"

"Adopted, but a son, nonetheless," Worf said, looking back to Marissa with the affection she had come to expect in his expression. "What brought up this question?"

"We were attacked earlier today by an unknown vessel with cloaking technology. Any help you can offer would be greatly appreciated, Ambassador."

"And, I will do everything I can to help, Lieutenant," Worf said. "Give your parents my greetings."

"And you give yours ours," she said with a smile. "Riker out."

The viewscreen blanked and Jeyelar settled a ruthless gaze on Marissa. "Everyone is dismissed except Lieutenant Riker."

When the door closed behind the last crewmember, Marissa turned an amused gaze on their acting Captain. "What is your problem?" She asked as easy going as she could.

"How dare you go behind me and belittle my thoughts?"

"Jeyelar, I have no idea what you’re talking about," Marissa said with a sigh.

"I am Commander Darre, Lieutenant!" He shouted. Marissa should have flinched, but instead she grinned and said, "This is about my putting in a call to Ambassador Worf, isn’t it?"

"This is about your lack of concern for how you make the captain and I look when you doubt us in front of the crew!"
"All I did was suggest it could be someone else besides who you thought, and frankly, Commander, your assumption was asinine. You’re the only one who didn’t realize that. The Klingons? Please, they have no reason to attack us, and yet you still try to blame them. Perhaps you have another motive, perhaps you really believe that. I don’t know and I don’t care. None of this is going to help us reach a conclusion. I can tell you without a doubt that this attack was by a Romulan. We know little to nothing about their ships anymore, and this is their method of operation. If you don’t know that, I do!" Marissa rose to her feet and stalked around the room. "I know this was done by the Romulans. It just makes sense."

"Captain Raymer says you have expertise in this area?"

"More than I care to have," Marissa spat. "I was nearly killed by a Romulan seven years ago. My mother infiltrated the Tal’Shir years ago. I studied them, what I could, at the Academy, and I know one personally, although I wish I didn’t. She nearly killed me."

"How?"

"Saving the life of my first officer on the Enterprise," Marissa said with a faint shudder as she recalled the sting of the blaster. "I remember nothing after taking the hit for Commander Shelby. I barely remember anything before it happened." She paused for a moment and shook her head. "Look, Commander, I’m telling you, this was by the Romulans. I don’t know how I know, I just do. I suggest you get someone near the Neutral Zone to scan for tretron particles, and I suggest you do the same before we leave this region."

"Why tretron particles?"

"Romulan ships leave tretron particle traces when they cloak," she said matter-of-factly. "Run a scan for them. You’ll find them. I’ll be on the bridge."

Jeyelar watched her leave with a shake of his head. He couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips as she left. His anger at her dissipated, and he knew she was right. As for his obsession with the Klingons, that came from a long and painful experience with them. He shook his head again, knowing he had to get past that judgement. Besides, if Marissa was right, and he thought she just might be, that meant trouble for the entire UPF.

Chapter Five

"Commander, we’re receiving a Priority One message from Starfleet Command," their communications officer said from his post.

Chris rose to his feet and looked at his comm officer. "On screen," he said, tugging down his jacket nervously. He smiled when Will’s face filled the screen. "Admiral," he said familiarly. "What can we do for you?"

"Two things," Will said, all business. "First, steer clear of the Neutral Zone. Secondly, report any unknown vessels or sudden attacks."

"Yes Sir. Can I ask what prompted this?"

"A ship was attacked earlier today by an unknown vessel. It appears likely that this was a Romulan attack. We’re asking that all vessels be on Yellow alert until this situation is solved."

"Yes Sir."

"Good. Also, Chris, you might forward anything you can think of about the Romulans in the past few years over to the Destiny."

"The Destiny?" Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, they were the ship involved."

"Is everyone all right?" Without realizing it, Chris began searching for Marissa.

"Everyone is fine," he said with a slight emphasis on everyone. Chris sighed and sat down in his chair, whispering a silent thank you. "I’ll forward anything I can find immediately, Sir."

"Good. Keep us posted. Riker out," Will said, and the screen went blank. Chris hit his comm badge and said, "Captain to the bridge! Yellow alert."

Everyone calmly went about his or her duties, but Chris knew they were all nervous. The word Romulan simply sent fear through everyone. Anyone in the Federation, particularly Starfleet, knew what the Romulans were capable of and how much they disdained the Federation. With the recent war between the Federation and the Dominion, there was cause for doubt in Starfleet mounting a decent defense against a fleet of Romulan Warbirds. Chris shuddered at the thought of the lives that could be lost. The lives lost in the Dominion War would probably look insignificant.

"Commander Watson?"

Chris jerked his head up and found Captain Wicks standing in front of him. He leapt to his feet and very nearly saluted. "Captain," he stammered. "I apologize."

"No apologies needed for being lost in thought," Wicks said, motioning towards the chair Chris normally occupied. "Now, why are we on Yellow alert?"

"Command’s orders. There was an attack on a Federation vessel earlier today by an unknown vessel. Apparently, they believe and command believes it to be a Romulan attack."

Captain Wicks’ face paled at the mention of Romulans. "We’ll begin battle rotations, then," he said. "And, you needed to begin researching any information you can find on the Romulans."

"Yes Sir."

"Go, now," Wicks ordered. "I’ll take the rest of your shift. Your wife was our leading expert on Romulans. You were second. You’ll have to take up the slack."

"Yes Sir," Chris said leaving the bridge and heading for the ship’s library.

Light years away on the Destiny, Marissa sat in their ship’s library doing the exact same thing. In two hours, she had made her way through a mountain of contradicting reports from Starfleet informants, spies, and Romulan defectors. It was an astounding amount of information, and nearly all of it contradicted each other. She sighed, leaning back in the uncomfortable chair and rubbing her eyes. A report from Section 31 intrigued her. She tapped the screen and waited for the report to appear. Knowing it was from the infamous Section 31 troubled and delighted her at the same time. She knew it would accurate, but she worried about how they had received the information. When the report sprang to her screen, all her doubts fled as she read the plethora of information."

She lost track of time as she made her way through the information. On a PADD near her, she made notes of her readings, intrigued by some of the things reported by Section 31. She paid special attention to the new ship configurations they had accessed. Quickly, she downloaded the report into her PADD as she skimmed the rest of it. She was engrossed in her studies and never sensed anyone else enter the library, come close to her, or stand behind her. When a hand touched her shoulder she jumped and swung around. "Jeyelar!" She exclaimed, pressing a hand over her heart. "You scared me."

"I apologize. I thought you’d feel me coming," he said, sitting down on the chair beside her.

"I was reading. I tend to ignore everything when I’m studying," she said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Find anything?" He asked, looking at her screen.

"Tons. It’s going to take me forever to sort through this. Thankfully, there’s a report from Section 31 that looks promising," she said, holding up her PADD. "I downloaded it to this, so I’m going to take it back to my quarters and look at it."

"We ran a tretron scan. We found residue of particles," he told her, idly picking at his sleeve. "Looks like you are right."

"Was there any doubt?" She asked with a broad smile.

He chuckled. "That’s what I like about you, Marissa. You’re so damned sure of what you want."

"And, I get what I want," she added suggestively with a sparkle in her eyes.

"And, you like what you’re doing right now," he said, skimming her emotions.

"Very much so. I have a very tactical mind. My mother is very creative, but my father is very analytical, and I think I got the best of both of them on that account. I’m very analytical when it comes to strategy, but I’m also very creative. And, I love researching. I love learning about cultures."

"Why the Romulans?"

"Why not the Romulans? They’re just about the only ones we know nothing about," she said, spanning her hands. "There’s so much to learn, and yet so little we know." She looked down at the PADD in her hands. "Speaking of, it’s time I headed home to learn what’s in this little treasure chest."

"Treasure chest?" He asked as they both rose to their feet.

"Ancient Earth term. It means it’s full of useful, important, or beautiful things."

"Ah," Jeyelar said, following her out of the library and to the turbolift. He folded his hands behind him and looked around the corridor as they waited. He locked and unlocked his knee and Marissa began to chuckle. "What?"

"You. You’re nervous. What’s wrong?" She asked as the lift doors opened and they walked inside. "Deck Ten!" She called out and looked to Jeyelar expectantly.

"I owe you an apology," he said quietly. "It’s not easy for me to apologize, Marissa, but I do owe you an apology. My behavior towards you in the conference room was uncalled for. I’m not used to the captain recommending I get help from someone else when it comes to tactics."

"It makes you feel inadequate," she observed.

"Slightly," he conceded, stepping out of the turbolift after she did.

"You have to understand that someone is always going to know more about a subject than you do unless you’re the leading authority on that subject," she said, walking up to her door and keying in her security code. "If I became upset when I had to have help, I’d be upset all the time. Want to come in?"

A battle began in Jeyelar’s gut. He knew coming into her quarters was not a good idea, but it was so tempting with her standing there, her eyes dancing in excitement, a smile on her face, and her hair fanning out like a halo. He gave into temptation and nodded his head.

"Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to change clothes." She tossed the PADD onto her coffee table.

Jeyelar watched her disappear into the bedroom, and he sat down on the couch. He unzipped his jacket and leaned back onto the soft cushions. He heard her walking around in her bedroom, opening drawers, closing drawers, and then he heard her curse. "Dammit!" He smiled, wondering what brought that on, but not getting up to find out. It was one thing to be in her quarters tempting temptation. It was another to walk into her bedroom and give into temptation completely.

He knew when she came back into the living room. He felt her and smiled with his eyes closed. "Want something to drink?"
"No, but thanks," he said. She walked over to her replicator and ordered a cup of hot chocolate. When it appeared, she cradled it carefully and walked back to the couch. He opened his eyes when she sat down and nearly jumped to his feet. She had changed from her uniform, all right, into a pair of flannel boxer shorts and a long tee shirt.

She felt his sudden shift in emotion and looked up in confusion. "What’s wrong?"

Everything, he thought deep down where she would not hear it and said, "Nothing. I just wasn’t expecting you to come out wearing so…" He searched for the right word.

"I can change," she said, looking down at her clothing. Granted, the shorts were a little short, but the shirt was long and bulky, and it was what she always wore after a shift.

"No, no," Jeyelar said, still staring at her long, bare legs.

"I’ll be right back," she said, standing up and going quickly to her bedroom. She returned a few minutes later wearing a long grey robe. Jeyelar sighed in relief, but it really didn’t do any good. The image of her wearing her night clothes was burned in his memory. To sway his mind, he reached for her PADD and held it out to her. "So, what’s so intriguing in this report?"

"Section 31 has inside information into some Romulan ship prototypes. I hope they’re fairly accurate. I want to study up on the configurations and then cross reference them with the images we have in the ship’s computer on our attacker." Her eyes glowed as she spoke, and Jeyelar couldn’t help but being entranced by them.

"Marissa, I have to leave," he said suddenly, coming to his senses.

"What’s wrong?" she asked for the third time that night, standing up as he did and following him around to her door. She stood not very far from a viewport that sent sparkling starlight across her quarters.

"Everything!" He exploded. "I can’t be around you, Marissa."

"Why not?" Hurt crept into her voice.

"Because I don’t trust myself around you," he answered quietly, turning to face her.

She chuckled and said, "I’m harmless, Jeyelar."

"But, I’m not," he told her, moving closer to her. "You want to know why I don’t trust myself with you?" He asked. Her eyes blinked slowly, watching him in fascination. Her head nodded twice and his head descended towards hers. "This is why," he said huskily, his obsidian eyes capturing hers just as they closed and his lips came to caress hers. He pulled away quickly. "Now, do you understand why?"

Marissa nodded again, her heart pounding and her mind reeling from the simple kiss. It had sent a surge of electricity from her lips to the tips of her toes. So long, it had been since she had kissed a man besides Chris, and it had been so long since even he had kissed her. Moreover, she was attracted to this man. Of that, she had no doubt. He was incredibly handsome with his olive skin, dark hair, and matchless black eyes. There was a ruthlessness to him that intrigued her, and a spirituality that exuded from him that confounded her. All those things combined, and confused more with the fact that he was Betazoid, made him a lethal combination. Marissa took a deep breath and whispered, "What if I told you that I understand, and feel the same way?"

Shocked, his eyes met her again. "I’m attracted to you, Jeyelar," she said, her voice almost hypnotic. She rose on her tiptoes. "And, what will you do when I do this?" She asked pressing her lips, and her body, to his.

He groaned and fought against her for a moment before giving in and slipping his arms around her waist as she wanted. She surged against him as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues touched, and she jerked away. He looked at her confused.

When his mind touched hers, she knew she was finished. Stop fighting me, she heard whispered to her mind. You want this as much as I do.

I can’t, she whispered back to his mind, suddenly afraid.

She felt him grin against her lips as he kissed her again, backing her up with the pressure from his lips. The kiss became bold, as did his hands. They came to grip her waist while his tongue probed her soft lips until it slipped past them again. She tore away from him. "No," she whispered aloud, her breath short. "I can’t…I won’t do this."

"Why not?" He asked, moving behind her, running his hands up her arms. "You want me, Marissa," he said knowingly. "I want you."

"I still love my husband."

"You left him, Marissa. You’ve told me over and over that he didn’t love you the way you need to be loved. I can do that. Let me show you," he whispered suggestively against her ear as she came to rest against the viewport.

She shuddered as his hands came to rest on her breasts through the robe and the shirt. His mouth came down to hers again, and she gasped as he allowed his mind to enter hers. He showed her, with his thoughts and feelings, exactly what he wanted to do with her, and she shivered in delight as the sensations and images flooded her mind. There were no objections from her lips as he continued the kiss but let his hands slid to her belt. He untied it and slid the robe from her shoulders as her hands slid inside his unzipped jacket. They roamed over the fabric of his tunic, feeling the hard muscles of his chest and back. She found the hem and jerked it over his head in one quick motion. Then, she tore her lips from his and pressed them back to his neck, trailing a line of fire down his neck to his chest and back up to his lips. He thought the agony of her touch would be his undoing, but it was her feelings that did him in. She broadcast back to him her intentions fully and uninhibited. He sighed when their lips met again. With her back pressed to the viewport, it was easy for him to use his weight to balance her. He reached below her knees and pulled her legs up around her waist. "Wrap your legs around my waist," he whispered huskily. She did and felt the evidence of his attraction bound firmly by his trousers. She grinned and pressed a kiss to his neck as he carried her to her bedroom.

Reaching the bed, she slid down his body to sit on her bed. He reached down and pulled the shirt from her body. She reached up, pulled him down onto her, and met him in a graceless kiss that ended with her on top of him. "Your beautiful," he told her gruffly, reaching up to run his hands through her thick curls.

"No, I’m not," she whispered as his hands went around her back and unclasped her bra. It slid from her shoulders into his hands. A faint blush stained her cheeks as he raised his hands to her naked breasts. He stroked his thumbs over them, feeling goosebumps raise on her skin, and then felt her lurch against him, falling down onto his bare chest. He rolled her over, kissed her lips, then her neck, and trailed down the valley between her small breasts. When he finally made his way to one of them, she was shivering. "Cold?" He asked.

She shook her head and closed her eyes in anticipation. He smiled and used his mind and his lips to his advantage. Within seconds, she was grasping at his head as he suckled and her hips jerked under the pressure of his body. As he tortured her, she slid her hands down to his trousers, forced her hands between their bodies and unsnapped them. With them unsnapped, she fought to push them from his hips, but their bodies prevented removing more clothes, so he regretfully pulled away from her.

"Come here," he whispered, standing up to remove his trousers. She rose to her feet beside him as he pulled to her him. They kissed long and sensuously as he pushed the boxers from her hips along with her underwear. As he did, she slid her hands inside the waistband of his and discarded his as well. Surprising her, he broke their kiss and took a step back towards the bed, never letting go of her hand as he came to sit on the edge. "You are incredible, Marissa," he said reverently.

"No, I’m not," she said again, never taking her eyes from his.

"Yes, you are," he repeated, pulling her hand and making her topple onto of him.

They kissed for some time, rolled around on her bed, making a mess of the covers before they moved underneath them in search of the cool sheets. Her hand came to encircle his body and he shuddered. She moved her hand up and down the length of him twice before he knew he could take the torture no more and moved over her, kissing her neck as he slid a hand down her body. He touched her inside, found her more than ready, and pulled away for only a second. This was the point of no return. "Marissa?" He asked, searching her eyes for any doubt, searching her mind for any doubt.

"Yes," she breathed, pulling his head down and meeting his lips in a tender kiss as he moved over her body and pressed deeply.

She gasped as he sheathed himself inside of her and he buried his head in her shoulder. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before in her life. He was everywhere at one time. She felt him in her body, in her head, and nearly in her soul. It was a thousand points of light, it was pleasure and pain, it was incredible. There was nothing better, or so she thought, but then he began moving within her, and she thought she’d surely die. Her fingernails raked down his back and he nipped at her neck then at her lips. Using his mind and body to his full advantage, he felt her begin to come apart underneath him. Her hands stilled and her eyes closed tightly. He stopped and suddenly rolled over, placing her on top of him. He brought one hand to her chest and the other to down to where their bodies met. Within a few thrusts, he felt her clinch around him. Her hands clenched on his chest and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. With their minds linked together slightly, he felt everything she felt and knew he had a very few seconds before it would be his turn.

She collapsed onto of him and he let her rest until she raised her head and grinned at him. Then, she pressed a kiss to his chest and whispered, "Wow."

He chuckled and rolled back over, pinning her in place. He began thrusting gently into her still throbbing body until he came apart. She ran a hand through his hair as waves of ecstasy overcame him. Unable to keep it in anymore, her name became a torn whisper from his lips as he buried his head back in her shoulder. She smiled and ran her hands soothingly over his back, waiting for him to regain his sense. When he raised it again he echoed what she had said. "Wow," he repeated, pressing his lips lightly to his, and rolling off her onto his side, taking her with him.

They stared at each other for sometime, never breaking their physical link. Finally, he broke the silence and asked the question he had to ask, "You’re not going to regret this, are you?"

It took Marissa awhile to answer as she searched her soul for the answer. When she answered, it was with utter seriousness. "I don’t regret the past, Jeyelar. I look towards the future."

It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it was the best answer he could hope for under the circumstances. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead and nodded.

"Stay here?" She asked, moving closer to his body and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Leaving never crossed my mind," he replied.

In his quarters, Chris sat up, sweating with no explanation. What the hell, he thought, looking around the quarters. Something had awakened him, but what, he did not know. "Computer, identify occupants of this room."

"Commander Christopher Watson is the only occupant of this room," the computer replied.

Chris lay back down on his bed and shook his head. "Must have been a nightmare," he said, closing his eyes again. This time, he saw what had awakened him. It was an image of Marissa in a state he knew he had only seen her in when they made love. Suddenly, he sat up again reconciling the feelings that had awakened him with the image he had just seen. "No way," he whispered, standing up and walking into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and tried to wipe the image from his mind. It was a nightmare, nothing more, and nothing less. Or so he hoped, and made up his mind to find out. "Computer, locate Dr. Erica Weiss."

"Dr. Weiss is in Sickbay."

"Watson to Weiss," he said, walking back to his bed.

"Weiss here."

"Erica, bring a tricorder and come to my quarters, please."

"Is it important?"

"Very," he said seriously, propping himself up against the pillows.

"On my way. Weiss out."

While he waited, he ordered the lights up fifteen percent and crossed his hands over his bare chest. His heart pounded and his head hurt, but he knew, it was a nightmare and nothing more. Marissa would never, never betray him that way. He knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt, and a quick scan of his neural levels would confirm his nightmare.

The door chime sounded throughout his quarters and he called out, "Come in!"

"Where are you, Watson?" Erica called out from the living room.

"In my bedroom."

"Are you decent?"
Chris rolled his eyebrows. "Hurry up, Erica!"

She sauntered into his bedroom and leaned against the doorframe. "What’s the matter, Commander?"

"I need a neural scan," he said.

Erica chuckled. "What for? To confirm you’re insane?" She asked, walking towards his bed, ignoring the arresting sight he made with his mussed hair and broad, bare chest.

"I need to know if I’ve had a nightmare in the past six hours."

Erica raised her eyebrows and scanned him quickly. She tapped several things into her tricorder before snapping it shut. "Nope. No elevations I can detect. Why?"

"You’re joking, aren’t you?" The blood draining from his face.

"No," she said, her forehead wrinkling.

"That conniving, vicious bitch!" He swore, sitting up straight.

Erica moved away from him and asked carefully, "Who?"

"Who? My wife!"

"You’re divorced, Chris," she reminded him gently.

"You’re damned right we’re divorced," he swore, raking a hand through his crazy hair. "I can’t believe…she just…what a…"

"Can you complete a sentence?" Erica asked with twinkling eyes. The amusement faded when he turned his glare on her. Suddenly, his eyes became sultry and smoking as he leaned to her.

"I can complete a sentence if you can answer a question."

"What?" Erica asked nervously backing away from him.

"Have you ever wanted to have sex with me?"

"Christopher Watson!" Erica jumped from his bed and stared down at him in shock. "How could you ask me that? Marissa is my best friend!"
"That’s not an answer, Doctor," he pointed out, swinging his long legs over the side of his bed.

Erica jumped back. "Even if I was attracted to you, Chris, it wouldn’t matter. You’re married to my best friend."

"I was married to your best friend," he said in a soothing voice. "How ‘bout you make me forget her?"

"How ‘bout you get some sleep, Watson," Erica said.

"I don’t want to sleep," he told her, reaching out for her hand. As he touched it, she yanked it back as if she were scalded. "And, I don’t think you want me to sleep, either, Erica. I think you want me as badly as I need you, tonight."

"You don’t need me, Chris," she said unsteadily as he reached for her hand and caught it this time.

"Yes, I do," he said, his voice low and hypnotic. She became transfixed by his voice. "And, I know you want me, Erica. You can’t hide it from me. I know you want me. Let me give you what you want," he said, raising his hand to her face and pulling her down for a kiss.

Their lips met and Erica jerked away from him. "No," she whispered aloud, her breath short. "I can’t…I won’t do this."

"Why not?" He asked, stroking his fingers on her hand. "You want me, Erica," he said knowingly. "I know it."

"You still love Marissa," Erica pointed out, knowing she was fighting a losing battle.

"I’m getting over her."

"Chris, I can’t," she whispered painfully. "God, I want to, but I can’t. I just can’t."

"Yes, you can," he said, pulling on her arm, causing her to tumble into the bed beside him. Before she had a chance to think, he caught her lips in a bruising, loveless kiss. Erica groaned and slid her hand around his neck, knowing this was wrong, but unable to stop it. She wanted him too much, and she knew this might be her only chance. Within in seconds, Chris had Erica’s clothing off and his own scanty clothing on the floor beside hers. They kissed as primal forces took over, taking them through passion, no matter how loveless. When he entered her body, it was a relief to both of them. She delighted, feeling him so deeply inside her, and he revealed at being encased in her body. The sexual void both of them had experienced over the months intensified every feeling, every movement, every sensation. In no time, Erica gasped and pulled him tightly to her body, and a few moments later, he jerked and poured warmth into her body. Then, they lay together after the loveless act thinking how wrong it was and yet how wonderful it had felt. When he pushed himself off her body, he looked down at her with regret. She wriggled out from under him and reached for her clothing.

"That should never have happened," she said in a shaking voice as she redressed herself.

"I’m sorry, Erica," he said, truly meaning it.

"I know. So am I," she as she finished dressing. Then, she left his quarters quickly without another word. Chris flung an arm over his eyes and closed them, wishing he could take back the past hour, and hoping he could forgive Marissa while praying she could forgive him.

When the red alert klaxon sounded, it startled Marissa and Jeyelar from a sound sleep. They lay spooned together, his hand on her belly, and the covers slightly covering her shoulders. The comm system came to life with the order, "Senior staff to the bridge!"

Before they could disengage their limbs or kick the covers from their shoulders the ship rocked from a blast. "Shit!" Marissa exclaimed, jumping from her bed. Jeyelar followed behind her and picked up his uniform from where it had fallen. Marissa grabbed hers from her closet and was dressed in five minutes. She raked her hair back into a loose ponytail and hurried into the living room where Jeyelar stood zipping up his jacket. He raked a hand through his hair and they hurried from her quarters as another volley rocked their ship. Inside the turbolift Jeyelar called out, "Bridge!"

"What do you think?" She asked, glancing at his profile.

"The same thing you do. I think our friend is back for an encore."

Marissa shuddered and moved close to him. "We’re not ready for this, Jeyelar."
"The attack or this affair?" He asked as the turbolift stopped.

"The attack," she answered quickly as he muttered, "What the hell."

"Computer, why have we stopped?" She asked, pressing a button.

"Unable to comply," came the reply that made Jeyelar slam his fist into the wall.

"Riker to the bridge. Captain, Commander Darre and I are stuck in the turbolift."

No reply came, so Jeyelar hit his comm badge. "Darre to bridge. Captain, please respond."

There was no response for him, either. The ship rocked again and the turbolift moved. "Thank goodness," he said before they realized it was moving the wrong direction. The lift was going down, and it was gaining speed.

"Good gods, we’re going to crash!" Marissa exclaimed, her voice rising and turning to Jeyelar with fear. "We’ll die. We’re too far up. We can’t survive this!"

Jeyelar took her hands in his and said, "Calm yourself. Find your center and close your eyes. Stay in that place and block out everything around you. You’re going to be just fine, Marissa, and so am I," he promised her as they sank to the ground with their hands tightly clutched together.

Slipping into unconsciousness, they never felt the impact of weapons that tore through part of the outer hull, and the never felt the turbolift strike the bottom with enough force to throw them against the wall. They never felt their bones break, their heads collide with metal, or their skin rip and bruise. They came to rest again on the floor, their broken bodies almost side by side, and somehow their hands still together.

After the incident with Erica, Chris could not sleep, so he made his way to the bridge to start his shift early. Sitting on the bridge was an odd place to feel your heart being ripped from your chest, but as he sat quietly discussing the upcoming overhaul of the security protocols with his captain in light of the Romulan threat, he knew a pain unlike any other. It emanated from light years away and radiated out of his soul. It seared through him like a knife through butter left out for hours in the slight warmth of a room, and it melted through his veins, sending agony through his body to the very core of him. He went deathly still, ramrod straight, and his mouth dropped open. His captain leapt to his feet and hit his communicator. "Sickbay! Medical emergency on the bridge," he said with one look to Chris’ face. Chris tried to wave his hand, but he found himself unable to move. He tried to look up at their captain, but there was red haze permeating everything.

It took all his strength to struggle to move again. Somehow, he rose to his feet. He wavered unsteadily, and their captain shot out an arm to steady him. Chris looked at him distractedly. "I need a comm link to the Destiny," he said in a thick voice.

"The Destiny?" Captain Wicks’ voice displayed the uncertainty he felt towards his first officer. Chris nodded his head vigorously. Captain Wicks sighed and nodded at his Chief of Operations.

"Sir, we’re receiving a priority one message from Starfleet Headquarters," their chief said a second later.

Wicks swung around and stared incredulously at the officer for a moment before saying, "On screen."

"I can’t, Sir. It’s marked eyes only for you and your XO."

Wicks looked at Chris and shook his head. "I’m overriding that command. Display on main viewer. Anyone watching this message or hearing this message is hereby ordered to forget what they will hear and never speak of it to each other or anyone else. Understood?"

Murmurs of yes sir came from all over the bridge. When Wicks was satisfied, he nodded his head and the viewscreen crackled to life. Chris stared into his father-in-law’s ravaged face and said in a stricken voice, "No…oh…no."

After giving his XO a strange look, Captain Wicks looked back to the screen. "Admiral Riker, it’s a pleasure to see you, Sir."

"I’m assuming your crew has been ordered to silence, Captain?" Will asked, his ice blue eyes settling on the captain.

"Yes Sir," Wicks said immediately.

"Captain, you will be reporting to the Destiny’s last known coordinates. It was just attacked again."

"Hopefully no one was hurt?"

"I wish that were the case. We’ve lost several good officers and we have many more injured."

"Marissa is one of the injured," Chris said certainly. He looked to his father-in-law for confirmation. "Don’t deny it, Will. I know she’s hurt. I felt it happen. I feel like someone just tried to remove my heart via my big toe. Where is she?"

"At Deep Space Nine," Will said, running a hand across his face. "We’re en route now. It was the closest starbase with enough facilities for the casualties."

"How bad is it?" Chris asked.

The main bridge was a strange place to be told the love of your life, your reasoning for living, was dying, and yet that’s exactly where Chris was, and it was what he knew without a doubt. He looked Will Riker squarely in the face and said, "She’s dying." For his part, Riker could do nothing but nod. Chris sighed and said, "I have to go. I have to get there. If I can get there, she won’t die, Will. I promise you that. I won’t let her die," he said ferociously.

"I know," Will said feeling a strange pang of jealousy. He wished, briefly, to have that kind of connection with his daughter. For him to keep her alive, Will would have to linked with Deanna as well. It would take their combined power to keep their daughter alive, and yet this one man could keep her alive with sheer will. If he could get to her. "I’m ordering you to Deep Space Nine, with Captain Wicks’ permission, of course." Will transferred his gaze to the captain. "Sir, I realize this is an inconvenience for you and what I’m asking is out of pure selfishness."

Wicks held up a hand. "Will, if it were one of my daughters, I would be making the same request. Commander Watson will be aboard a shuttlecraft en route to DS9 within the hour."

"Thank you." Will transferred his gaze to his son-in-law and said, "Are you prepared for this?"

Chris smiled a brief, fleeting smile and said, "No one’s ever prepared for something like this, but when someone else’s life is more important than your own, you face death head on."

Will nodded. "Riker out." And the screen went blank. Chris looked to his captain and asked expectantly, "Which craft am I taking?"

Two hours later he sat in a shuttlecraft preparing to leave the ship. He lowered his head to the cool surface of the navigational controls and whispered quietly with his soul, Hang on, Marissa. I’m coming. If anyone or anything is going to kill you, it’s going to be me. Not a bunch of Romulans, so don’t you dare die on me.