She crossed to the chair where Will still sat, staring into the blank screen. Her hands reached out to the muscles of his neck and shoulders, which felt as hard as tempered duranium.
“Don’t beat yourself up about the Dughand Donatra, Will.”
He looked utterly desolate. “Donatra played me. I trusted her, even became her ally. And she played me.”
During the hours since the Vanguard convoy’s return from Neyel space, Will had told her enough about the circumstances surrounding the destruction of the Dughto convince her that he was being far too hard on himself.
“Donatra only did what she thought she had to do, Will. You have to remember that Romulans are still Romulans, our recent détente efforts notwithstanding. Sometimes our interests converge with theirs, and other times things go the other way.”
He looked up at her, frowning. “Are you saying that Romulans can’t be trusted as a species?”
“No, of course not. But I amsaying that it takes time to build trust. And I’m also saying that you can’t expect to win everybattle.”
Glancing up at her, he smiled gently. “ ‘Sometimes you get the bear, and sometimes the bear gets you.’ Hey, I think I may have finally found our elusive dedication plaque motto.”
She chuckled. “Keep on looking, Will. But there’s a useful truth there, too. You may think Donatra ‘played’ you, but you’ve had your share of success recently doing the very same thing to the Romulans. In case you’ve forgotten, youmaneuvered Praetor Tal’Aura into accepting a Klingon-Reman protectorate right in her proverbial backyard just last week. And you’ve just had an even moreimportant success: Without you, the Neyel and who knows how many other species would probably have been entirely wiped out of existence.”
“Because I persuaded Donatra to use her fleet to close the rift.”
“Exactly.” She was beginning to wonder if he was being deliberately obtuse, until his dark mood argued otherwise. Clearly, there were aspects of this mission she didn’t yet completely understand.
“I just spoke with Dr. Cethente about that,” he said, his words punctuated by a wave of sorrow that seemed almost capable of knocking her off her feet. “We really don’t know for certain that closing the rift stopped the Red King from ‘rebooting’ all the matter and energy in the affected sectors of Neyel space.”
Her jaw dropped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He offered her a small, sad smile. “There wasn’t any point in holding a senior officers’ briefing about it. After all, it isn’t as though we can do anything about the outcome, two hundred and ten thousand light-years away from Ground Zero.”
“How soon will we know exactly what happened?” Troi asked.
“Cethente says that even with our most powerful subspace telescopes, it could take decades to find out exactly what that emergent protouniverse did after we entered the rift and sealed it after us. So there’s no way to know if our Red King eventually woke up and annihilated the entire Neyel Hegemony, or if he settled back down for another harmless, billion-year nap.”
She nodded. “So I guess there’s no point in agonizing over it. Right?”
“Try sitting in the big chair for a while, Deanna. From that perspective, it’s usually pretty tough to do anything butagonize. Take the away team on Vanguard, for example. I finallymanaged to find out that they were all safe only about ninety minutes ago. So what’s a captain to do in the meantime? Agonize.”
She nodded again, caught in another gale-force wind of his sadness and self-recrimination. She almost felt she had to raise her voice to cut through it.
“Then I suggest you focus on your unambiguous successes, Will. For instance: There are over two million people aboard Vanguard right at this moment. You saw to it that they survived, regardless of whatever might or might not have happened to the rest of Neyel space.”
He rose then and took her in his arms. His icy blue eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Thank you, Deanna,” he said before pausing momentarily to recover his composure. Being an empath, she found the gesture endearing.
“Oh, by the way Counselor,” he added. “I never gave you a formal ‘welcome aboard’ after Ree sent you back to Titan.”
They separated then, though not enough to break the embrace. They regarded each other in silence, and she met his tired smile with a wry grin of her own.
“I’m glad you finally noticed that,” she said. “But I know how busy you’ve been.” Everyonehad been busy.
“I’m sorry, Imzadi.I expect things to calm down by tonight, at least a little, once Ra-Havreii completes the damage inspections on Vanguard and we get back underway with her toward the Neutral Zone. Then I plan to execute a new plan.”
Her grin widened. “Oh? Do tell.”
“It’s called Operation: Welcome Home, but as far as the rest of the crew is concerned the code name is Operation: Do Not Disturb. You are requested, and required, to participate. Captain’s orders.”
“I’m intrigued. Brief me.”
His smile quickly glissaded from fatigued to playful. “Phase One involves my leaving the keys to the store in Chris’s capable hands. During Phase Two, I’ll go to our quarters and open that bottle of jakarine merlot that I’ve been saving. And Phase Three is actually a lot easier to demonstrate than it is to explain.”
He moved in to kiss her and she turned her face toward his.
She was utterly unsurprised when his door chime sounded. It never, ever fails,she thought as the mood shattered. Ever.
He disengaged from her, his eyes tightly closed as he massaged his temples with both hands. The gesture made him look like a Vulcan attempting to perform a mind-meld on himself. “Come!” he said sharply.
The door whisked open. Frane entered, followed by Tuvok and Akaar, who had to duck slightly to avoid brushing his head against the top of the doorway.
“Have we come at a bad time?” Akaar said.
Will gestured toward the couch that was situated along the wall nearest the desk. “Not at all, Admiral. What can I do for you?”
Tuvok sat first. Moving with surprising grace, the big Capellan took a seat beside the Vulcan. This was the first time Troi had seen them both together since the evacuation of Oghen had begun. Though neither of them were displaying any more overt emotion than usual, Troi noticed immediately that something fundamental had changed between these two very reserved men. Have they finally put aside their differences, whatever they were, after all these years?
“I have been in touch with Starfleet Command, Captain,” Akaar said. “A contingent of SCE vessels will rendezvous with Titanand Vanguard at the Federation side of the Neutral Zone. The Federation Council has granted Donatra’s fleet permission to tow Vanguard that far. From there, Vanguard will be towed back to the Sol system, where I will confer with Starfleet Command and the Federation Council on the problem of finding the Neyel and the other species aboard Vanguard a permanent home.”
“I hope we have the option of visiting Auld Aerth itself,” said Frane, who had remained standing. “If not settling there.”
Auld Aerth.In Troi’s perception, the young Neyel’s almost worshipful emotional state, coupled with his strange pronunciation of the name of Earth, conferred an almost mythic status on her father’s homeworld. Of course, to Frane—to all the Neyel refugees in the O’Neill habitat—Earthis mythic. A bedtime story told to children. The stuff of legend.
“Lieutenant Pazlar is already searching the stellar cartographic records for a suitable permanent home for the refugees aboard Vanguard,” Tuvok said.
Akaar nodded. “The search could take some time, however. Vanguard may serve indefinitely as a short-term home for the refugees while the council debates the matter, consults with the Neyel leadership, and takes its final decision.”