Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 8 Feb 2004 11:18:07 -0800 In: alt.startrek.creative From: keeroth@startrek.net (Ke Roth) Title: Echoes Author: Ke Roth (keeroth@startrek.net) Series: TNG Part: 151/? Rating: R (violence and language) Codes: P/C, D/f Summary: Lt. Andile, Starfleet's oldest and shortest engineer, comes make any money from writing this. FYI: This story takes place approximately 2 years post "Insurrection", but pre-"Nemesis". Feedback is welcome. Chapter 151 "I must admit I am concerned," Data said as he put the padd aside. "We have been searching out the system monitors for eight days, now - and to date, we have removed fifty-four of the devices. Even so, we have been unable to reinstate the ship's recorder system, indicating there are additional monitoring devices as yet undiscovered. "This troubles me, Ginger," he told Andile from his place beside her bed, where he had spent almost every free hour since the accident, watching her face intently as he spoke - though he knew there would be no reaction to his words, to his concerns, to the troubles he lay upon her brow. There might never be a response, he knew - and yet, somehow he felt better speaking to her - not because she could hear him, he knew - but because one day she would awaken, and he knew she would never forgive him if he had not told her everything that was happening in the ship. And everything that was happening in his heart. "I do not believe Cmdr. James was capable of placing so many devices on board the ship in the brief time she was here, even with the relative degree of freedom she had while we were at Utopia Planitia - nor would there have been any reason to place them in as many locations as she did. Indeed, the majority of the devices have been placed so covertly as to suggest that no one was aware of their presence - except the one or ones responsible for their implantation. But if she was not responsible, then who? - and if the intent was not just to monitor the events on the ship during this mission, then why?" He shook his head and gave one of his perfect, practiced sighs. She would not approve the feeble attempt, he knew - and so he drew another breath, and let it out again, a little less evenly this time, a little more raggedly - and so much more humanly. "I am practicing," he told her gently. "I am trying to accept the feelings, Andile, to live with them - but it is very difficult. The feelings - _my_ feelings - are much harder to control than the ones the chip generates; they feel... different, as though they were the ones that were artificial - while the ones that I know come from the chip still feel 'real' to me. I know this is simply a matter of adaptation; that in time, as I experience these genuine emotions more and more, I will learn to accept them as being real. But it is difficult, Ginger," he confessed, leaning close to her ear, whispering softly. "There are days I do not believe I can bear it... alone. "There are days, Ginger, when I believe I can bear nothing... alone," he told her softly. "Come back to me, Ginger. I miss your wisdom; I miss your insight. I miss you." He bent his head into her shoulder, feeling the thick, oily tear slide from his eye to his cheek, then drop heavily onto her bare shoulder. He raised his head slightly, watching as the tear traced a viscous path to the bed below her - then he placed a finger on the damp spot, gently rubbing the tear away - then lowered his head, kissing the spot tenderly. A tiny shudder vibrated in the woman as her body responded to the change from warm wetness to the room's cooler air - and in an almost equally automatic response, Data took one of the blankets that stood neatly stacked near the biobed and carefully draped it over Andile's shoulders and arm, sheltering them against the chill that seemed to be the only thing that penetrated her inactive mind. "Ah, my little one is cold again," a deep voice boomed behind Data, a giant hand clapping him roughly on the shoulder. "Do not worry. I will take you home to Romulus, my little _baj_, to my house on the desert plains - and there, you will bake in the heat of the sun, until you are warm to the heart of your bones!" Tiron roared as he looked down at the tiny woman. "Not until she has been to Cardassia first," Zumell countered softly, pushing her way out from behind the giant Romulan. "Ignore him, my little one; I will take you to my home on Cardassia first, and there I will cook for you until you are well and healthy. You have not enjoyed life until you have tasted home-made _vis ha ji_." She glared up at the massive Romulan. "Warmth will do those bones no good until she puts some meat on them first!" she insisted to him. "And who will put meat on _your_ bones, old woman?" Tiron laughed back playfully. "No, you will both come to my home - and there, you will sit in the sun and _I_ will feed you until you are both big and plump and warm and content as old women and beautiful young girls should be!" He leaned forward, smiling down at Andile. "Wouldn't you like that, my little one? A nice long vacation on a warm, warm planet, with your _patchni_ ready to grant you your every wish?" He glanced back at Data, then added, in a not-too-subtle whisper, "Or perhaps not every wish, my little _baj_ who is not so little? Perhaps there are some wishes only this young _tu'j_ can satisfy - yes?" Tiron straightened turned to Data and gave him another powerful clap on the shoulder - but let the hand rest there after the thunderous blow. "You will come with us, Mr. Data? Back to Romulus, so that the little one can recuperate among the ones who love her - and who she loves?" he asked. Data hesitated. "I am not certain whether Federation citizens would be welcome on Romulus, Mr. Ambassador..." "Nonsense!" Tiron replied. "Allegiance and fidelity to one's people is very important on Romulus - but money has any equally loud voice - and I am very powerful, Mr. Data - and very wealthy. If need be, I will adopt you both, make you both my heirs - and thus citizens, and you can walk about as free citizens." "Andile can not yet walk, Ambassador," Data reminded him. Tiron met his eyes, then patted his shoulder once more, gently this time. "She will, Mr. Data; she will. We must have faith - and patience - and courage." "And love," Zumell added. "But you have that in plenty," she said softly, pushing past the two men to take her place next to the bed. "Good morning, my little one," she said softly. "I hope you slept well. I have a new book for you - one of mine, this time. Stories from my world. Better stories than you learned when you were there," she added sadly, then patted her arm and looked at Tiron. "We should be going, Ambassador," she reminded him. "The little one starts her therapy in a few minutes - and we should not deprive Mr. Data of his time with her. We will have ours later," she reminded him, then stepped away from the bed. Data turned to follow the two to the door. "I wish to thank you both for your attendance on Andile - but she would not wish you to forsake your ambassadorial duties for her sake..." "Mr. Data, our duties mean nothing if there is not a person at the heart of them - and in our little one, we remember that heart, that person every day," Zumell said. "And..." "And your captain is busy with the Breen today," Tiron added, grinning. "Yes," Data murmured, as though he had forgotten the arrival of the Breen ambassador - as though he could forget anything... even those things he wished he would forget. "We have postponed the day's meetings until tomorrow so that he can fulfill his other duties - and so that we can rest. Your captain is a fine negotiator," Tiron added, a hint of disappointment in his words. "Had we known he would so admirably represent his people, we might well have opted to postpone the meeting until someone less competent could be found." Zumell gave the huge Romulan a contemptuous look, added a ineffectual slap at his round belly, then shook her head as she turned back to Data. "Never mind you him; your captain is a worthy delegate. If he has his way, we might all find peace yet," she said. "Come, Mr. Ambassador," she added, pulling at his arm - then smiled at Data. "We are going to your Ten Forward for our morning meal," she told him. "And then for a walk in your arboretum," Tiron said - then took Zumell's arm - and gave Data a wink. For a moment, the android stared at the departing couple in unmitigated astonishment - then turned back to Andile. "Ginger... I believe... I believe that Ambassadors Tiron and Zumell might be at risk of damaging their objectivity. Indeed, they may even be acting in collusion in the current negotiations," he said worriedly. "They're not conspiring, Data," Beverly interjected as she entered Andile's room. "I beg your pardon?" "They're not conspiring," she repeated, "they're... enjoying themselves. They're learning about one another - and about their respective worlds. Losing their objectivity? Yes, perhaps - but in an enlightening way. But collusion? I don't think so. If nothing else, they're not being very subtle about their friendship. I don't think there's a member of the crew who hasn't seen them together." "I had not," he reminded her. "Because you've been spending all your time here, Data," she reminded him, then turned, drawing one of the bedside table next to the bed and placing a blue wrapped package on the stand. "And if someone's to blame for that, Data, it would be Biji here; Tiron and Zumell both offered to take a turn reading to her - and since they both had time only after the day's negotiations, they ended up coming down at the same time, taking turns reading to her - then leaving together." She smiled down at the unmoving body as she began to unwrap the package. "Still trying to bring people together, even while you're asleep, eh, Lieutenant?" she asked. There was no response from the body, nor from the android beside it. Instead, Data's attention was focused on the package. "Doctor? Is that not a dressing change kit?" he asked worriedly. "You've seen enough of them to know that it is, Data," she replied, glancing back at him before continuing to unwrap the package. "You know, if Biji were awake, she'd tell you that dancing around the question you really want to ask can be somewhat annoying. If there's something you want to know, then just ask," she instructed him. Data pursed his lips, cocked his head - and considered. "It was not my intention to be annoying, Doctor," he said. She forced a pleasant smile to her lips, not willing to tell him that the slight whine in his tone was, on occasion, equally annoying. "Data, if and when you ever have children, you'll learn to distinguish between what they do and who they are. You are not annoying; your behavior, on the other hand, can be. On occasion," she added diplomatically as she slid a pad beneath Andile's left arm and hand, then turned on the sterile field. Pulling out a pair of gloves from the kit, she slid them over her hands before looking at the android again. "Rather than dancing around the topic, Data, why don't you just ask me?" Data thought over the idea, then gave a single nod. "Perhaps you are correct. Andile was always forthright - and she did seem to reach the heart of a topic most expeditiously." "Indeed," Beverly murmured. A nice way to phrase it, she thought to herself, although the rest of your friends would generously call it 'audacious' - and everyone else would call it out-right rudeness. But Data was right - Biji did get to the heart of things - and, she added, remembering the slightly dark stain of a tear on Data's cheek, to more than a few hearts as well. And now that you've reached those hearts, Beverly thought to the woman, we can't let them be broken; one broken heart per starship ought to be the limit, she proclaimed, taking a small device from the kit and behind to neatly cut open the bandages on Andile's hand. Data considered silently as Beverly peeled away the soiled bandage. "Then allow me to be somewhat more forthright, Doctor," he announced a moment later: Andile's dressing changes are performed in the evening, after the conclusion of her physical therapy; that you are performing them now suggests that something untoward is happening. I would like to know what is the nature of that event," he said - rather formally, Beverly noted. "I am changing her bandages," Beverly replied as she deftly removed the silver metallic wrapper from the still raw flesh and began to carefully examine the tissue, "because the Breen physician - Jemat - has asked if he may examine her - and the Captain has granted him permission to do so - as part of the initial talks between the Breen and the Federation." "The Breen physician?" Data repeated warily. Beverly nodded, her attention locked on her task. "The Captain has indicated that this Jemat directed the surgery that restored the infrastructure layers to Andile's hands and feet on the Breen vessel. If that's so, then it's possible he will be able to complete the reconfiguration of the outer epidermal layers again - something that I can not do," she added. She looked at Data. "At best, Data, I could give her a epidermal layer not unlike yours - but I have no way to restore nerve systems, especially at the concentration levels that humans hands have. Based on what I've seen on Andile's hands, the Breen do have the ability to do so - and if Andile's to regain her sense of touch, we're going to have to investigate every possibility. And..." She drew a deep breath. "'And' what, Doctor?" Data prompted. "Data, if they can restore the fine musculature and vasculature of her hands, then they must also have the knowledge that would let me do the same for the right side of her chest. Rebuild that - and we can reattach her arm," she added enthusiastically. "That would not correct the damage to her brain - or free her from the external oxygenator," he reminded her. "Data," Beverly sighed, wondering if the android's pessimism was born of the same fatigue that had been wearing at her, "every day means another chance to find a solution. You just have to have a little faith that someone, somewhere, is going to look at the problem - and help find a solution. By the time we get back to Earth, who knows what we'll find? Maybe someone will find a way to overcome her autoantibodies - and I can clone new lungs for her. Maybe someone will have discovered a way to oxygenated the blood efficiently - and using a smaller unit. Maybe... maybe many things, Data," she sighed. "There are many 'maybes' within your statement, Doctor," Data replied. "Indeed, there are far too many 'maybes' for me to feel sanguine about Andile's long-term rehabilitation," he added. "Then don't rely on 'maybes', Data; go look for your own answers," she countered. He looked at her, then cocked his head to one side - and fell silent. Beverly glanced at him - then turned her attention back to Andile's hand. She hadn't been exaggerating in her appraisal of the Breen's work; the musculature and vasculature they had created for her was far beyond the technology of anything the Federation had, incredibly fine and detailed. Add skin and nerves to it, she thought, add a few months of physical therapy - and she would have her hand - maybe even both hands - back. And no scars, she added, noting that the Breen had excised the thick white tissue that had encircled her wrist. That would have been necessary, she told herself; the old and thick scars would have hampered the blood flow to her hands and imperiled the recovery of the extremities. And possibly imperiled the recovery of the woman as well, she added, knowing that the scars were somehow linked to the tragic loss of the child... Varel, she thought, reminding herself of the child's name, her heart surging with grief for the girl - and for Andile. She looked at Andile's face, aching for the woman - then stopped. Something was different, she thought; something was... wrong. She glanced at the bandage change kit, wondering if something had fallen to the floor, or rolled from the sterile field - but everything was where it was supposed to be. She looked at Andile, studying her face, searching out some change - some slight movement of her eyes, her mouth, perhaps? But saw nothing different there, either. For moment she tried to convince herself it was nothing more than her imagination - but her years of medical experience kept insisting something had changed. A machine, maybe? She wondered, glancing at the various displays, looking for something out of place. Her blood pressure was elevated fractionally, she noted - though there was nothing terribly abnormal in that; a person - even an unconscious person - underwent changes in blood pressure throughout the day. Her oxygen saturation levels were normal, her temperature was slightly elevated - but still within normal range, and her respirations were steady at fourteen point one per minute. She looked back at Andile, staring at her in confusion, knowing something was different, but unable to put her finger on it... Fourteen point one, Beverly thought with a frown, suspecting the slight aberration was the cause of her unease. It should be exactly fourteen, she knew; indeed, she had set the level when she had implanted the pacemaker in Andile's diaphragm, beginning the process that would, in time, allow the woman to breath for herself. Even if she only had half a lung in which to draw air, Beverly added. But half a lung still meant regaining the ability to speak, something the ECMO would never grant her, she reminded herself. Breathing, Beverly thought with a sorrowful smile; speaking. How I dream, she thought solemnly, knowing full well there was little chance that Andile would ever be capable of doing either again. She reached for the machine, about to reset the level - and watched as an erratic spike flashed across the monitor. She stared at the woman for a moment - then spoke softly. "Data?" The android stirred himself. "Yes, Doctor?" "I think she's trying to breathe." He stared at the physician for a moment - then looked at Andile. "Perhaps an involuntary spasm of the diaphragm," he countered. "She was subject to them..." "At first; immediately after the pacemaker was implanted," Beverly agreed. "But that was a week ago! Ever since, the machine has regulated the contraction of the diaphragm with perfect regularity." "Perhaps the levels was reset accidentally..." "I checked it before I went off duty last night, Data - and you've been with her ever since. Did _you_ change it? Did anyone else change it?" "I would not alter the settings on the equipment used to regulate Andile's condition, Doctor," he replied, in as close to a hurt tone as his android persona would permit, "and neither of her night attendants altered any of the machine settings." "And yet it has changed," she pointed out. "I think she's trying to breathe - or rather, her body's trying to breathe," she conceded. "I don't think it's a conscious action. But..." She hesitated, then faced Data, smiling. "I think it's a positive sign, Data; her brain is beginning to exert control over her autonomous functions." "And her attempt to breathe...?" "Without her normal lung capacity, she's probably feeling as though she's fighting for air - even though her blood and tissues are showing excellent perfusion levels." Beverly gave a soft sigh. "You wouldn't understand the sensation, Data, of fighting for air - but it can be terrifying, even traumatic - as if you're drowning." "But such a feeling would be a conscious reaction," Data pointed out, "and she is not conscious. Furthermore, you indicated her oxygenation levels are adequate." "They are - but the functions of inhalation and exhalation aren't controlled strictly by oxygenation levels. The pH balance may have been off for a moment, her metabolism might be spiking as she goes through a phase of regeneration - I could give you half a dozen reasons why her body might be trying to make her take an extra breath - but they all boil down to the basic fact that her body needs an extra inhalation - but the pacemaker prevents that. "It's preset to initiate inhalations at the preprogrammed rate," Beverly explained, "but it's not permitting the body to exert any control in response to those changes. That's a good sign - she's trying to re-establish autonomic control - but for now, I can't remove the pacemaker. Her body is just too weak to maintain control of the diaphragm. What I can do is to reset the pacemaker, allowing her body to, in effect, override the setting when she feels the need for an additional inhalation." She smiled at the android again. "It's a good sign, Data," she said softly. "The best one yet. But," she added cautiously, "it's only one sign. It's no guarantee that she'll recover further, that she'll ever be able to come out of her current state - and I think that we both need to keep that thought firmly in mind," she added firmly. Data looked at her curiously. "I am confused, Doctor," he admitted - though there seemed to be no hint of confusion in his expression. "Confused? About what?" Beverly replied. "You said that I should have faith - that a stranger, who has never met Andile and has no idea of her needs - or my need for her - would provide her with the appropriate technology to help her recover the abilities she once had - and yet I should not place that same faith in her? That I, knowing what her capabilities are, knowing of her ability to heal, to recover, to overcome odds that would daunt almost any other being, should believe less in her than in someone I have never met? That I should have faith in someone I do not know - but not in the ones I do?" he asked. Beverly looked at him for a long time - then down at her patient. He doesn't understand, she thought to herself - and to the silent woman lying on the bed. He doesn't understand what you've been through, the pain you've faced... he doesn't understand that sometimes you just can bear to face the hurt, even just once more. Even for him. Especially for him. She looked up, studying the android - and saw the hope their, the faith - the need, she realized, to make right what had gone so terribly wrong. But correcting that mistake - any mistake, she added, would take faith... and hope, and long hard work on his part. On both their parts, she added. It's going to be a long road, Biji, she thought silently to the woman - but he's worth it; you're both worth it. We all are. "I stand corrected, Data," she said softly. "Perhaps the faith we really need is in ourselves - and in those we know best. Maybe... maybe it's just somehow easier to believe in those we don't know than those we do," she added. He nodded. "I understand, Doctor. Sometimes fear - of repeating failure, of being hurt, of hurting those we love, even unwillingly, unintentionally, scares us away from doing what we know in our hearts and in our minds to be the correct course of action," he said, then looked at Andile for a moment, studying her expressionless face. "But I am willing to take that risk," he told her, told them both. He watched the motionless face for a moment, a newfound determination shining bright from his golden eyes - then looked at Beverly once again. "Doctor, you had indicated that you knew of others who would be interested in reading to Andile - that is, aside from Ambassadors Tiron and Zumell? To provide additional mental stimulation throughout the day?" he asked. "Know of others?" she echoed lightly, smiling at him. "Data, there are so many who want to help Biji that I've had to make a waiting list!" she replied, almost laughingly - though telling the nearly countless volunteers that Andile's free time was already spoken for had been anything but a laughing matter - or rather, it hadn't been until she had explained that it was Data who was occupying Andile's resting hours, she added. "Perhaps, then, you could make arrangements for one or more of them to spend time with Andile during at least part of the next few evenings?" he asked. Beverly gave him a curious, and slightly disappointed look - then nodded reluctantly. "Of course. I'm sure there will be no problem, but... why?" she asked, wondering if her faith in him... in everyone... had been misplaced. "Aren't you going to be here tonight?" she asked disappointedly. "I shall - but there is something I must do first," he said. "If you could make arrangements for someone to be with her until the end of beta shift?" he asked hopefully. "Of course," she replied, then watched as he leaned over her body, placing a gentle kiss on Andile's forehead, then carefully removing an errant strand of raven hair from her face before neatly tucking the blanket under her bandaged shoulder. "Do not let her become chilled," he cautioned Beverly, then turned on his heel and left the room. Beverly watched the android leaved, then sighed, and looked down at Andile. "He loves you, you know," she said softly. "Whatever happened between you, he still loves you - and I think he'd do anything for you. Give him a chance, Andile; don't give up - on him - or on yourself. Love - real love, that kind that endures - the kind he feels for you - is so rare, so precious - don't throw it away. Don't let go. Let him try to make it right - for the both of you." The sound of a communicator chirping interrupted her litany of sage advice to the somnolent woman. "Picard to Crusher," came the captain's voice, gruff and formal with command. To her surprise, the sound of his voice, terse at it was, sent a shiver through her soul. Don't be stupid, she chided herself; that's all done with... isn't it? Do I want it to be? Do I want to give up on him, on me, on us? She looked at the unconscious woman in question - then tapped her commbadge. "Crusher here," she replied softly. There was a moment of hesitation before he spoke again - and for that moment, Beverly wondered if he, too, was aching at the sound of her voice. Nonsense, she insisted; he's probably just preoccupied with his duties. And yet the voice that came back was softer, gentler. "Jemat and the Breen ambassador will be arriving shortly. Transporter room three," he added. "I'll be there," she replied, tapped her badge again to break the connection, then looked at Andile - and gave a rueful laugh. "I know, I know," she sighed. "I'm just setting myself up for another disappointment, another bruising. I loved Jack - and he died; I loved Wesley - and he's gone. I... I love Jean-Luc," she finished softly. "I don't want to lose him, too. "But then," she added softly, "I've never really had him to lose, have I?" she asked the unmoving form - then sighed. "In a way, I'm jealous of you and Data. For everything that went wrong, the two of you at least tried. We never have. Maybe that was just wise precaution on both our parts." "Or complete cowardice," she added after a moment's thought. "Or both," she conceded. She attended to the dressing, neatly removing the last of the old bandage before examining the raw tissue, carefully cleaning the flesh, then neatly re-bandaging it. Piling the used materials into the wrapper, she rolled it up, peeled off the gloves, dropping the whole mess into a disposer unit, watching the faint blue flash as it turned into aseptic ash, then touched the control that turned off the sterile field. "There," she said with an air of finality and satisfaction. "You're all ready for the Breen. Don't worry; I won't let them hurt you," she began - then stopped. "No, Beej, that's not true; if they can repair your hand, help me rebuild your shoulder and reattach your arm, then yes, it will hurt - but I'll do everything I can to make it as easy on you as possible. But if it works, it will be worth the pain," she added - then stopped once again, biting her lip - then shook her head and smiled. "Yes," she said softly. "It will be worth the pain." -- Stephen Ratliff ASC Stories Only Forwarding In the Pattern Buffer at: http//trekiverse.crosswinds.net/feed/ Yahoo! Groups Links To visit your group on the web, go to:http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCL/ To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:ASCL-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service. From ???@??? Mon Feb 09 00:31:34 2004 Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n40.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.108]) by robin (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1aQ40X5X3NZFjX1 for ; Sun, 8 Feb 2004 21:31:23 -0800 (PST) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13150-1076304658-stephenbratliff=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yahoo.