For some reason, I kept thinking of the next day as my last aboard the Enterprise. I knew it wasn't, knew I was not actually going down to the planet's surface and much less staying there, but the idea of arriving at Sandor seemed to mark the end of my brief passage aboard the Enterprise. The past day had been a wonderful but brief vacation from worrying about Sandor.
So when morning came earlier than I would have liked, I wasn't thinking back to the pleasures of yesterday but ahead to my return to my home world. Before I knew it, the computer was delivering its wake-up call and then Will was knocking at the door on his way to the Bridge.
"We're almost to Sandor," he told me. "You ready?"
"Yes," I lied. I tied back my hair, now blonde again, and straightened my shirt. For some reason, it was important that I look the best I could. "Okay." I nodded to him. "Lead the way."
Will started for the door, but stopped just before it opened. I stopped short just before bumping into him. He stood still for a second before turning around. I waited expectantly.
"Tasha, even if this doesn't work out, we all know you're doing your best."
"You know, saying that just makes me feel like it's not gonna work," I laughed. "But, thanks." I was so close, I had to look straight up at him. I moved to step back, but he placed his hand on my elbow.
"I really appreciate you helping us out. I know it can't be easy, leaving home like you did and just following us out here."
"I'm helping out a friend," I said, laughing at Will's sudden sincerity. "You'd do the same for me."
"Yeah, I would," Will answered, no trace of laughter in his voice. "And..." He petered out. I glanced down at his hand where it still rested on my arm as if forgotten and then up into his eyes again.
"Will, is something wrong?" I asked. I didn't always get him, exactly, but he was acting very strangely.
"No. I'm just...glad you're back." Before I could react, Will leaned across the foot that separated us and gently pressed his lips against mine. I stood stock still for a second before pulling back and stepping away. His arm fell limply at his side.
"Woah, what....What was...Why...What was that?" I stuttered.
"I'm sorry, I..."
"You just kissed me."
"Well...yeah."
"Why?"
Will glanced distractedly around my quarters. "Hey, I'm sorry. Forget about it." He stepped toward the door and it swung open as it detected him.
"No, Will, hang on." I grabbed his arm and pulled him back inside. More, I pulled on his arm and he decided to follow my lead. "What's this about?"
Will looked uncomfortable. I might have been, but all I felt at the moment was confusion.
"I missed you."
"And I missed you too. But I never..."
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Will cut in. "After you left, I missed seeing you everyday. About that night..."
I felt myself start to blush and I looked down at my feet.
"Nothing happened that night. We just kissed, but that was it."
"I know..." Will petered out again.
"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked, not knowing what to say but knowing I had to force out something for Will's sake.
"I didn't think it was anything, but after you left..."
"I'm sorr—"
"It's not your fault," Will interrupted. "I didn't know if you...I had to try it." He rubbed his beard. "I'm sorry if this hurts things," he said. "I want you as a friend, but if you—"
"Will, no! This doesn't change anything." I twisted my hair around my finger distractedly. "You get me more than anyone else."
Will opened his mouth and then looked like he reconsidered. "We should get up to the Bridge." This time, he waited for me to go first. The walk down the hallway was awkward but I could not insist we flesh out the strange incident because we had to hurry. When we got to the turbolift, I turned to him again.
"We need to talk about this more, Will."
Will sighed. "I know."
"Tonight, after we're done. You can buy me dinner."
I got a laugh out of him. "My pleasure."
The Bridge was full of the rest of the senior officers when we got there. Picard stood when we entered and I noticed Data at Ops and Wesley at the Con. Worf stood behind the tactical station, looking, as always, ready for a fight. As I followed Will down the ramp, I saw Deanna Troi sitting to Picard's left, the first I had seen of her since my arrival. She gave me a smile.
"We are within visual range," Data said as I took up a standing position to Will's right. The three of us stood in a row, watching the viewscreen. I took a deep breath, trying to get over the total bewilderment I felt over Will's confession.
"Onscreen," Picard ordered. Data hit a few buttons and the screen immediately filled with a background of stars behind a rapidly growing planet. I stepped forward as the planet grew bigger, feeling my breath catch in my throat. Slowly, Sandor filled the screen, the familiar outlines of continents and oceans moving so slowly below us.
"Assume standard orbit, Mr. Crusher," Picard ordered.
"Aye, sir, standard orbit."
A few seconds passed as I stared at the planet we circled. White streaks of clouds obscured part of the planet but for the most part it was surprisingly clear. We were on the lighted side of the planet and, far below, I could make out the area that had been my former home, my former prison, a place I hadn't seen in over ten years.
Why the hell had I come back?
"Are you alright?" Will stepped over to touch my arm, a note of worry reaching his voice.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. I turned my attention to the viewscreen, trying to watch it dispassionately. "I'm ready."
"Mr. Worf," Picard said, "open a channel to their government command."
"Channel open, sir, but there is no response," Worf informed the Captain a moment later, his voice carrying its usual tone of aggravation.
"This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise," Picard began, stepping forward. "Please respond." After a second he glanced back at Worf, looking as though he didn't really expect a reply. He got none.
"Still no response, sir."
"Continue transmitting," Picard returned his full attention back to the viewscreen, tugging down his shirt, and began again. "I have with me someone to whom you may wish to speak. She is a Sandorian and we are willing to let her speak on our behalf so we can negotiate a satisfactory agreement. Please respond."
There was again no response and Picard nodded to me. Breathing hard, I stepped forward and addressed the planet below.
"This is Tasha Lawrence on board the Enterprise. I was born and raised on Sandor. The Federation has asked me to contact you so we can work out an ending to the conflict. If you won't deal with the Federation, then please deal with me." I paused, then added, "None of us want this situation to get any worse. The Federation is willing to negotiate with you. Please respond." When I finished, we waited a moment and then Picard nodded at Worf to cut the signal.
"Relay that continually over all frequencies and to all known Sandorian channels," he ordered.
"Yes sir," Worf answered. I imagined my voice being relayed continuously over all Sandorian communication channels. It was an amusing thought. "Still no response."
I turned to Will. "Can I see all the channels you're hailing them on again?"
"Of course, right up here."
I led the way to the rear of the Bridge and watched as Will pulled up a list of Sandorian governmental communication channels on science station. Quickly scanning the list, the same I had seen the day before, I confirmed that they had added all the possibilities I had told Riker about. I tapped a few buttons, opening up civilian frequencies that were basically of no use. As the minutes ticked by, I began to see how useless this entire operation was, not to mention ridiculously futile.
"Sir, incoming transmission from the surface!"
Picard turned to look at Worf as Riker and I returned to our former positions beside the Captain.
"Well, it seems we have their attention," Picard said. "Onscreen."
The viewscreen flared into life to reveal a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair. She sat with her hands tightly balled-up in front of her and looked incredibly annoyed.
"Federation starship," she began, "you have been harassing our planet for some time but now you have resorted to cheap tricks in order to attract our attention. Explain yourselves."
Picard stepped forward a step. "I am Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of this vessel," he told her. "We have been attempting to make contact with your government and have recently enlisted the help of a Sandorian to help establish peaceful relations with your planet." Picard gestured toward Riker and me so I stepped forward.
"I'm Tasha Lawrence," I told the woman. "I was born on Sandor twenty-eight years ago. I know it's not your policy to communicate like this, but we haven't been able to get through to the proper authorities. If you could help us, we want to try—"
"I don't have the time to listen to this!" the woman said, cutting me off. "No Sandorian would work for the Federation against us. Don't try to deceive us again."
"I'm not..." I began, trying to explain that this was no deception, but the viewscreen went blank.
"Transmission ceased," Worf said. "I cannot reestablish contact."
I angrily clenched my fists at my side, frustrated by the Sandorian woman's ridiculous refusal to listen. I ground my teeth, trying to prevent an angry outburst. So this was what I had returned home for, what I had left down my carefully constructed guard for, to be called a liar and then cut off. I wished I was lying, that I had been born on some other world.
"They're not going to listen to me," I said, turning to Picard. It was the most I could say without resorting to a childish 'I told you so.'
"But they did respond," Picard responded, actually looking unfazed, "which is more than we have accomplished. We'll keep trying. Mr. Worf."
Worf nodded and pressed several buttons on his tactical display, presumable to continue transmitting my message. It seemed futile to me but, then again, they had all claimed this mission to be futile from the start. That was why they had come to me, because every single other option had failed.
This one wasn't going to. I hurried to the work station at the back of the Bridge and hit a few buttons, leaning over the display. The Federation didn't know much about Sandor but they had been taking scans of the planet for weeks now.
"What are you doing?" Riker asked from behind me.
"There must be a way to get their attention," I told him. "This is getting ridiculous."
Half an hour later, though, the situation hadn't improved. No message from the planet had been forthcoming and the atmosphere on the Bridge had returned much too normal. Picard had recently retired to his ready room, leaving Will in charge. He was currently sitting beside me, propped up on the sloping display as I leaned forward in my chair, still searching through the databases.
"You really don't know anything about Sandor," I grumbled as I found yet another file full of conjecture and incomplete information.
"You haven't been the friendliest species," Riker countered.
I shot him an angry look at having grouped me together with the rest of Sandor. It certainly wasn't my fault that my species had been nearly Xenophobic in their refusal to interact with alien worlds. The fact he seemed to have some kind of confused feelings for me didn't lessen my anger any.
Instead of answering, I hit a few random buttons angrily, feeling my usually mild temper rising. The longer I sat here the more ridiculous this entire journey seemed. I should have just told Will "No," stayed on Karos VII, and gone on as normal. At least then I would have been working toward something instead of this futile chase.
"Whose bright idea was it to recruit me, anyway?" I asked him, sitting back in the chair and crossing my arms. I spoke angrily but quietly so no one would overhear. "You don't even know what you expect me to get done!"
Riker's eyes narrowed. "We've done everything we could do without risking a war. We both knew this was a long shot when you signed on."
"But we're not accomplishing anything!" I protested. "And there's nothing I can do, even if this is an emergency I..." I abruptly ended my rant, staring wide-eyed up at Will. "Emergency," I repeated.
"What?"
"Emergency. An emergency channel. When I was a kid, there were rumors about an emergency communication channel reserved for the Prime Minister in case of war, a disaster, whatever. It was supposed to link directly to the PM's office."
"We haven't found anything like that."
"Well, you wouldn't, would you?" I asked absently, working the panel with renewed vigor, my anger at Will forgotten. "It would be undetectable if you didn't know what to look for." I scanned the display, but wasn't sure what I was looking for, either. "Worf," I said, standing up and hurrying to the tactical display. Will came up beside me. "If there was an emergency channel designed to be undetectable to everyone but the Sandorian government, is there any you could detect it?" Now that I was asking the question, though, it sounded stupid.
Worf looked up behind me at Riker for confirmation and he must have nodded because Worf looked down at his display. "If there is an undetected signal on the planet, it will still leave traces from the encryption algorithm. The main computer's FTL processors should be able to detect and decrypt the channel."
Worf stepped to the right and I moved out of the way, watching him accessing the ship's systems. After a moment, he looked up at Riker.
"Confirmed, sir, there is an encrypted channel on the planet. It is currently not in use." The Klingon sounded angry, no doubt at having missed the signal is the first place.
"Riker to Picard," Will said.
"What is it, Will?"
"You might want to come out here, sir, Worf's found something."
Seconds later, Picard came striding out of his office and, after a quick assessment, joined us at Tactical.
"What is it?"
"Worf's detected a hidden signal from Sandor," Riker explained. "Tasha thinks it may tie in directly to the Prime Minister's office."
Picard's eyebrows rose. "Well, then, let's find out. On screen."
The image of Sandor was again replaced with a view of an office, only this one was much nicer and larger than the one belonging to the brown-haired woman. The screen we were looking out of seemed to be fastened to a wall for it looked out over a large desk and beyond that, three large floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was well-furnished, with a couch and small table off to one side and several art pieces decorating the walls. The thing that drew my attention, though, was the man sitting in the chair. He was looking down at his desk at a large, built-in computer display. While I could not tell what he was looking at, it appeared to be schematics of something. He had his head down so all we could see of him was his short-cropped hair.
"Dominic, I thought I told you to now bother me," he said, his voice exasperated. He glanced up at the end of his sentences. "What the hell?" he exclaimed, standing up, his eyes wide with indignation. "What is this?"
I hurried down to face the man. "Mr. Prime Minister?" I asked, barely believing that my idea had worked. I also had no idea if this really was the Prime Minister, as the position had changed hands several times during my absence.
"Yes, I am! And you're on a secure line!" His eyes moved up behind me to take in my surroundings. "Who are you?"
"This is the Federation Starship the U.S.S. Enterprise," Picard answered, coming down to stand beside me. "We're sorry to invade your communications network but we had difficulty contacting you." The Prime Minister glared at Picard and then turned his green eyes to me.
"Mr. Prime Minister, I'm sorry for the intrusion," I said quickly. "The Federation has been trying to contact you for a long time and they couldn't get through so they asked me for help because I was born on Sandor. If you would just hear us out—"
"I don't have time for this," the Prime Minister interrupted, sounding just like the other woman. "You have accessed a secure channel which you have no right to be on. I have more important things to do than talk with you."
"I don't mean to take up your time, sir, but the Federation is willing to negotiate for access to the wormhole. If you or your ambassador will agree to meet with us, we could work something out, Mr...." I trailed off, realizing I still didn't know the man's name. He didn't supply it.
"You can tell your Federation that we're not interested in negotiations. I don't care if you were born here, you're not a Sandorian now. Don't use this line again."
He leaned over the desk and hit a button, ending the transmission. The viewscreen went blank. I turned to Picard and Riker, wanting to see their reaction to our exchange, but I couldn't read anything. Poker faces.
"I can reestablish contact, sir," Worf said.
"No, let's let him think it over for a little while," Picard said. "He knows we can contact him now, maybe he'll give us a little more consideration." He tugged down his shirt. "Conference room."
I followed Picard into the conference room. Will sat at Picard's left and, at Will's nod, I took a seat across from him. The rest of the senior staff filed in behind us. As soon as everyone was seated, Picard spoke up.
"Thanks to Tasha, we've finally succeeded in making contact with Sandor's government, albeit briefly. We can now contact their Prime Minister at any time. Mr. Data?"
Data, sitting to my right, nodded and tapped a few buttons on the tabletop. Immediately, the screen at the end of the room came to life and displayed a picture of the man we had just seen.
"The current Prime Minister of Sandor is a man named Sebastian Grey. He is thirty years old, the younge—"
"Sebastian Grey?" I cut in, the name familiar.
"You've heard of him?" Riker asked.
"I dunno, it could be someone else." I nodded at Data to continue. "Sorry, Data."
He nodded and continued his briefing. "Grey has been Prime Minister for three years after he was elected by popular vote. In that time, Sandor has increased production of both starships and factories as well as establishing a mining colony on one of their moons. The planet still refuses to engage in interplanetary trade, but their economy is thriving and they are in what the citizens have dubbed their 'golden age.'"
I raised my eyebrows. Sandor had progressed in the years since I'd left it. It had never been a poor planet but the economy and production had been less than amazing. They must have fixed all that. Or rather, this Sebastian Grey, whoever he was, had fixed it. Now everything was rainbows and butterflies, except for the hundreds of colonists about to die on Minos III.
"Do you have anything more on Grey?" Riker asked.
"Affirmative. Sebastian Grey was born 2339 on Sandor in the city of Lenore. From the ages 11 to 17, he attended a boarding school in Beldon, after which he enrolled at a university in the planet's capital, Wenton."
Data trailed off as everyone turned to look at me. I realized I had stood up.
"Is there something wrong?" Picard asked.
"No, I-I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling well. I'd like to go back to my quarters."
"Perhaps you should report to Sickbay," the captain suggested, concern crossing his face.
"Good idea." I nodded to the table in general and hurried out of the conference room before anyone could say anything more. The turbolift was thankfully empty and the trip to my quarters quick. Once I got there, though, I had nothing to do but stand and stare out my windows at the planet below us.
I jumped when the doorbell rang. "Who is it?" I called.
"Doctor Crusher. Can I come in?"
"Yeah, of course." I hurried to the door and opened it for her. "Come in."
"Thanks." Beverly slipped into the room and I noticed she was carrying a med-kit.
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
"You tell me," she said. "The Captain asked how you were doing so I thought I'd come and check up on you."
"I'm fine," I said. "Sorry if I worried anyone, I just wanted to be alone."
"I thought so." She shot me a sly smile. "It's not the first time someone's used Sickbay to get out of a meeting."
"No, I guess not." I forced a smile but it disappeared as I let out a sigh. "We made contact with the Prime Minister."
"I heard. Captain Picard was very pleased with your progress." Beverly slipped past me and set her med kit down on the table. I followed her but remained standing, too tense to relax. "You don't seem happy about it," Crusher finally commented.
"No, it's not th—I know him, Beverly. Sebastian Grey, the PM, I know him."
"From when you were a kid?"
"Yes. We were best friends when I was young. He was two years older than me. And now he's Prime Minister."
"Is that so bad?"
"Yes!" I slammed my hand down on the glass tabletop. "He was the one happy part of my childhood, the one good memory I have of Sandor, and now he's head of the
planet! Beverly, do you think he's the one blockading the wormhole?"
"Possibly," Beverly said noncommittally. "Alright, probably, but that doesn't make him any less the person you knew. He's probably just doing what he thinks is best for your planet."
"It's not just the wormhole, it's the whole idea. I hate Sandor and the whole, messed-up system." I sank down into one of the chairs. "Sebastian was the only thing I still like about Sandor and now he's gone and gotten mixed up in everything that's wrong about it." I rested my head in my hands, running them back through my hair. "I knew it was mistake coming back here."
Beverly leaned across the table. "You'll get through this. You've already found a way to contact this Prime Minister; it won't be long before they agree to talk. I bet we'll get out of here soon."
I raised my head. "It's not just being here. It's remembering everything again. I keep trying to get away from this planet, but I can't. No matter how far I run, it's still my home."
Beverly's face turned sympathetic and she was silent for a moment. "I can't pretend to know how you feel. I was born on Earth. I can't imagine what it's like to not be able to go home, to have your own species turn against you..." she shook her head. "Will's told me a few things, but not much." She twisted her hands together. "You're pretty much a mystery to everyone on board."
I snorted. "Some mystery," I said. "I can't even figure myself out."
"Can any of us?" Beverly laughed. "Come on, tell me some stories about Karos VII."