Burden of Choice - part one

Sep 03, 2010 23:46

Title: Burden of Choice: Part One
Author: weaselett
Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Characters: Leslie Crusher, Data, Beverly Crusher, William Riker, OCs
Warnings: Mention of violence
Word Count: c.16000
Summary: During a rescue mission lives hang in the balance and Leslie Crusher is led to seriously consider whether she still wants to go to the academy.



Leslie Crusher self-consciously tugged on her uniform tunic as she headed for the turbolift that would take her to the bridge for her shift, mentally reviewing the list that had been running through her head every day since Captain Picard had promoted her to acting ensign.

The list consisted mainly of all of the things that being a Starfleet officer meant; all of duties and responsibilities that she was now carrying on her shoulders. Some days it was scary, the weight of it making her hands shake just a little as she entered in each course correction; other days it was thrilling, filling her with excitement over what they might encounter that particular day. Most days though, it was just a part of her, the definition of what her life was.

Today was one of the thrilling days; she had been assigned to the bridge for night watch. It was one of those assignments that in her experience most people avoided. There were even stories about the lengths some people had gone to in order to avoid this particular watch assignment. Leslie on the other hand, didn’t mind one bit. It was a new experience, something she hadn’t done before, and it was something her mother did from time to time.

Leslie bounced idly on the balls of her feet waiting for the turbolift to arrive, hands clenched behind her back to stop herself from fiddling with her hair. Fiddling would lead to strands escaping from the neat bun that she had finally managed to wrangle her blond waves into after half an hour and there wasn’t time for her to fix it should that happen. She was not ever going to be caught at her duty station with less than tidy hair again, which meant fiddling was a big no no.

Leslie started a little as the doors of the turbolift swished open to reveal Lieutenant Commander Data, her hair as perfect as ever. Data’s hair was one of those things that Leslie had heard a few people grouse about in Ten Forward, not that she thought any of them would actually copy Data’s hair styling techniques if they ever learned just what they were. Leslie smiled, slipping quickly into the turbolift to stand beside Data. “Hey Data.”

“Leslie, are you looking forward to your first night watch?”

“Yeah.” Leslie let her smile widen a little, reminding herself at the same time that once they were on the bridge she had to treat Data as her commanding officer, and more importantly she couldn’t act like an over enthusiastic teenager. She had to act like a Starfleet officer.

“It is likely to be a long eight hours.” Data commented.

“I don’t know, I’ve sat plenty of uneventful shifts on the bridge, but it’s never been boring.”

Data inclined her head slightly, “In my experience Leslie, it is rare for officers to fall to sleep at their post on any other shift and while I believe the drop in light levels that occurs during night watch is partially responsible, it can not be the only reason.”

Leslie snorted, “Ok, well I promise not to fall asleep.”

“I shall hold you to that promise.”

Leslie laughed, stepping back as the doors opened, schooling her features and letting Data exit first before she followed, heading for the conn to relieve the Lieutenant from the last shift. She glanced sideways as she waited for the man to sign off the station, idly noting who else was on duty. Some of them she recognised, either from previous shifts or encounters Ten Forward or sickbay, but others were new to her.

Leslie gave her uniform tunic one last tug before dropping into the chair that was hers for the next few hours, quickly taking stock of the various readouts, listening with half an ear as Worf gave his watch report to Data. It sounded like it was going to be a quiet night. Leslie smiled; shifting her weight a little and getting comfortable as the lighting dipped and the turbolift door swished shut, signalling Worf’s departure.

-

Leslie started to think that Data might have been right. After four hours with nothing to do but make sure they stayed on course and didn’t crash into anything, combined with the dim lighting she was starting to feel more than a little bit sleepy. The ensign on ops wasn’t helping either, the Betazoid man seemed to have been yawning every few minutes for the last hour, though he’d offered her an apologetic smile after each one.

Leslie chewed on her bottom lip, shifting her weight idly and scrolling through a few different screens running an idle check on the systems that she was using, silently wishing that there had been a diagnostic scheduled, at least then she would have had something else to do other than sit and stare at sensor data, making the occasional slight course correction as required.

“Sir, we’re receiving a distress signal.” The ensign on tactical, a Vulcan Leslie didn’t know, broke the silence of the bridge, Leslie’s station beeping in accompaniment to his words. Leslie fought the urge to turn, pulling up the sensor data instead, searching for any sign of anything in their immediate vicinity but coming up empty. Whoever it was, they were a fair distance away.

“What is the message?” Data questioned.

“The freighter ‘Canmore’ is under attack by an unknown assailant and has taken heavy damage from phaser fire. They have suffered a number of casualties and are requesting aid.”

“Are there any other ships in the vicinity?”

There was a moment’s pause before the ensign answered, “No, we are the closest sir.”

Leslie didn’t need to look to know that Data was nodding, carefully pausing for the same amount of time as a human would before speaking and giving whatever order she had already decided, “Ensign Crusher set a course, warp eight, Ensign Tarrin send a coded reply informing the freighter that we are on our way, Ensign Ramamurthy we require more information about the freighter’s personnel and possible cargo.”

Leslie was only half aware of the soft affirmative from Ensign Ramamurthy, focused as she was on correcting the ship’s course, eying the read out as she calculated how long it would take them to reach the ship. “We should be at the ship’s location in two hours.” Leslie reported.

“According to Starfleet records the Canmore has a crew complement of thirty, mainly Bajorans, Vulcans and Humans. It’s carrying supplies for one of the colonies near the Cardassian border,” Ensign Ramamurthy reported, “mainly food and medical supplies and it has minimal defence capabilities.”

“Thank you Ensign Ramamurthy. Ensign Tarrin please keep me apprised of the situation,” there was another pause before Data hit her comm badge, “Bridge to Commander Riker, we have changed course to answer a distress signal from a freighter, our ETA is two hours.”

Leslie chewed on her bottom lip, automatically playing the regulations through in her head. While Data was in command of the ship for this shift, any emergency was still to be reported to either the Captain or the First Officer. Normally, or at least according to Leslie’s copy of the Starfleet manual, the Captain would be the first choice, but then Captain Picard preferred not to be disturbed unless necessary. Leslie could still remember her first few months on the ship, when Data had followed that same manual to the letter, and how many times the Captain had pointed out that she hadn’t needed to. If Data thought that, under the circumstances, Riker was the better choice, then Leslie wasn’t going to question it.

There was a long pause before Will Riker replied, somehow managing to sound like he hadn’t just been woken up by the ship’s second officer, “Understood Commander, I’ll join you on the bridge in half an hour, if you could notify sickbay to prepare for casualties.”

“Understood Commander, Data out.”

Leslie tapped a finger idly against the side of her console, even with the distress signal it didn’t look like night watch was going to get any less dull, especially not with two hours still remaining before they could do anything to help the stricken ship.

-

It wasn’t often that Beverly Crusher spent night watch in sickbay, but she had wanted to be able to spend as much time as she could with Leslie before her daughter left for the academy and that meant organising things so that they were off shift together as often as possible. Beverly smiled to herself, remembering how excited Leslie had been to be assigned to night watch on the bridge. It had been a more than slightly surreal experience after years of hearing people grumble about receiving that same assignment.

She had to wonder if her daughter was reconsidering her views yet in the face of a distinctly uneventful night watch. There hadn’t even been any minor injuries among the crew to report.

“Data to Doctor Crusher.”

Beverly jumped at the sound of Data’s voice, cursing a little under her breath, all too aware that she had allowed her mind to wander. An easy shift was no excuse. She tapped her comm badge as she straightened in her chair, preparing to hear whatever it was Data had to report. “Crusher here.”

“We have changed course to answer a distress signal from a freighter, there is report of causalities, but little information on numbers.”

Beverly chewed on her bottom lip, mentally listing off all of the things she might need, “Do you have any details on the ship and its crew?”

There was a slight pause before Data answered, which meant either Data was checking the database, or was leaving one of those ‘polite pauses’ that the android practised whenever she thought that too quick an answer would make a person uncomfortable. “The ship has a mixed crew, consisting mainly of Humans, with some Vulcans and Bajorans. There are a total of thirty crew members and the distress signal suggests that the ship has taken heavy damage from phaser fire. We will be in range of the ship in two hours.”

“I’ll have the sickbay prepared for causalities and organise a group for an away team.”

“Thank you Doctor.”

Beverly slumped a little in her chair for a moment, taking the time to consider everything that could go wrong, knowing all too well that she would only have a limited amount of time to react once they reached the ship. She stood leaving her office to set her team into action and call in a few more of her people. With at least thirty potential causalities she would need more than ten assorted doctors and nurses.

-

Will Riker strode onto the bridge exactly two minutes earlier than he had predicted, but then in Data’s experience very few races kept time as precisely as she did. She stood quickly, moving to allow Riker to take the command chair and waiting for him to settle before starting her report, filling him in on what little they had been able to learn about the situation.

“Do we know anything about their attackers?” Riker questioned, turning slightly so that he could look up at the tactical station, his gaze tracking the movements of Ensign Tarrin’s hands.

“Very little sir,” the Vulcan replied, “as Commander Data stated, all we know is that they have few defences and are under attack from another ship which is armed with phasers. We are still at too great a distance to determine anything more.”

Riker nodded, resting his chin in one hand as he considered, “How long until we can get a clearer picture?”

“We will be in sensor range within the next forty minutes,” Data provided, “it should also be noted that the region has no other recent reports of any attacks on any ships and while it is possible that in expanding my search I might find records elsewhere, our current information is too limited for me to be able to say with any certainty if any attacks could be connected.”

Riker smiled, as he often did when Data spoke as she had, “It looks like we’ll just have to wait and see, and be wary as we make our approach.”

Data nodded, finally allowing herself to sit down in the chair to Riker’s left and using the console on the armrest to bring up more records, checking through the list of ships that were listed as being in the area. It seemed unlikely that any of the ships that had officially reported their presence would be responsible for the attack, but it would not ‘hurt’ to be aware of the information. It was also the best possible use of the time until they were in sensor range.

-

“Sir, we’re in sensor range of the Canmore now.” The Betazoid ensign on ops reported.

“Commander there is no sign of a second ship, but the Canmore has been badly damaged, its engines are inoperative and there is a hull breach in one of the cargo bays.” Tarrin reported before Riker even had to ask.

“Life signs?” Riker asked.

The ensign on ops shook his head, “The sensors are having problems getting clear readings of the interior of the ship, there are life signs but I can’t tell how many or precisely where on the ship they are.”

Riker sighed, “Can you tell what it is that’s blocking the sensors?”

The ensign shook his head, “No sir, it’s possible that when we get closer we’ll get a clearer picture, or that the damage to the ship is causing the disruption.”

Riker frowned, before turning to Data, “Any ideas on anything we can do to improve our sensor readings? I’d rather not beam over there blind.”

Data pulled up the sensor readings on her screen examining them carefully, before running a check to see if there were any materials on the Canmore that could be responsible for the sensor disruption, each screen running through at a faster rate than Riker could follow. She shook her head, “The sensor image is clear enough that it is possible to tell which parts of the Canmore are safe for an away team, once we are closer it is likely we will get a clearer picture of where on ship there are survivors. The main issue is that at this distance the sensors can not adequately tell the difference between debris and bodies, especially in areas where there have been fires.”

Riker nodded, “I guess that’ll have to do then.” He turned back towards the view screen, “Ensign Crusher, how long until we’re within transporter range of the Canmore?”

“Another thirty minutes sir.” Leslie answered, starting her own countdown in her head. She knew from experience that she wouldn’t be on the away team, but it was likely that her mom would be, that was standard procedure. Leslie chewed on her bottom lip, idly wishing that she could steal a look at the sensor data, with the attacking ship gone, that was the only thing that would give any clue as to just who had attacked the Canmore, until they got to the survivors at least.

-

As soon as they were within transporter range of the Canmore Riker left the bridge under Data’s command once more, taking Tarrin with him and summoning two more security officers along with the medical team as he stepped into the turbolift. Leslie glanced quickly over her shoulder, just catching a glimpse of Riker’s uniform as the doors slid closed.

They still didn’t have any idea just what had happened; there was no sign of the Canmore’s attacker, and Leslie couldn’t help but feel uneasy. She liked answers and facts, things that she could work with and that were solid and unquestionable. The only facts that she had at the moment were that the Canmore had taken damage, they didn’t even know for sure it had been attacked.

Leslie sighed softly, resisting the urge to tap a finger against her console. She was on duty, she had responsibilities, and while she really wished she could be in engineering, or at the very least on ops, neither was her current duty station. They’d get answers soon enough, with Commander Riker beaming over and the various scans that he’d ordered before leaving the bridge. She’d just have to be patient like everyone else.

-

Will Riker eyed the gathered team, taking a moment to recall the names of the two security guards and the nurse that Beverly had brought with her, before he started his impromptu briefing. It was strange, leading an away team without Worf and Data, recently trouble had been favouring the hours when all of the senior staff were on shift. He’d gotten too used to having them at his back.

“As far as we can tell there are about twenty survivors on the Canmore,” he pulled up the sensor data onto one of the monitors on the wall of the transporter room. “Three of them are here,” he pointed at the aft cargo bay, “six are in the command centre, two in quarters and the rest are spaced throughout the ship.”

“Have we had any contact with them since we received the distress signal?” Beverly questioned, and Will could only shake his head in reply.

“No, nothing, we tried hailing them as soon as we were in range, but we couldn’t get an answer. For the most part life support seems to be functioning on the ship, the hull was only breached in one place, in the forward cargo bay, and it seems to have been sealed off. The ship’s taken a lot of damage though; it’s a distinct possibility that a lot of the corridors are going to be blocked by debris.”

He waited for them to all nod their understanding before continuing, “Ok, Doctor, if you and Ensign Ogawa could hold back until we’ve checked ahead, we still have no idea exactly what happened to these people and I’d feel better if we stayed together and kept an eye out for trouble. We have no way of knowing whether some of the life signs we’ve picked up aren’t hostile.”

“Understood, though you know that I am going to treat any injured people we find over there, regardless.” Beverly answered, her tone carrying a tiny hint of warning, and Will couldn’t help but smile.

“Of course Doctor, I would expect nothing less from you.”

Beverly smiled, “Good.”

Will laughed faintly, before motioning to the map once more, indicating one of the corridors close to the command centre, “We’re beaming over to here and heading to the command centre first, it’s the best place for us to find out more about what happened to these people and what we’ll be dealing with.”

-

”The away team is aboard the Canmore.” Chief O’Brien’s voice came over the comm system, notifying Data that the transport had been successful.

“Understood.” Data replied, standing slowly from her seat and moving forwards to stand between the two front consoles, examining the image of the Canmore that was being displayed on the viewscreen. She had no doubt that if he’d spoken his opinion out loud Commander Riker would have described the Canmore as being in ‘a sorry state’. It was, in Data’s experience, one of the easier to understand human idioms.

The visible damage to the Canmore did little to explain what had occurred, or who was responsible. The majority of the damage looked like it had been caused by phaser fire, but that left a very large pool of possible suspects. They had yet to find any trace of a second ship, or of where the mystery ship had gone, or what its reasoning had been, which, for Data, was the more important question.

On many occasions during her life, Data had found herself struggling to understand the behaviour of other sentient life forms. They often acted in ways that were not entirely rational nor beneficial to themselves, she knew that much of that was due to emotions and their affects, but she still often spent hours contemplating the reasoning behind actions she had witnessed. Sadly, it was only on very rare occasions that such ponderings allowed her to gain any further ground in her quest to understand them.

Some things, as Counsellor Troi had told Data on a number of occasions, just couldn’t be rationally explained.

On this occasion however Data was certain that an explanation would be found, by some means or another, as to why had decided to attack the Canmore and who they were.

First however, they needed to gather more information, and the away team were the ones in the best position to do so, which meant that until Riker contacted her, there was little Data could do but wait, and look after the every day running of the ship.

-

Beverly wasn’t surprised when Will took the lead, motioning for her and Alyssa Ogawa to stay back with two of the security personnel while he and Sutherby ventured further down the corridor that O’Brien had beamed them into. Emergency lighting flashed on and off, throwing strange shadows onto to the walls and making it difficult to get a good impression of the ship’s structure. She’d been on a few freighters during her Starfleet career, but in her experience no two were ever the same, irregardless of what the plans might say.

She flicked her tricorder open taking scans of their environment while she waited for Will’s signal that the way ahead was clear. There were a few life signs showing, in both directions, but she couldn’t tell much more than that. The various plasma fires throughout the ship were interfering too much to allow their tricorders to show any real detail, just as they had prevented the ship’s sensors from getting an accurate reading. Beverly sighed, tapping a finger against the side of the device as she squinted into the gloom, trying to spot Riker. Alyssa sifted nervously beside her, hands gripping the strap of her med kit tightly; the younger woman’s view of the corridor was clearly limited by the security team surrounding them. Beverly reached out, squeezing Alyssa’s hand gently, knowing that it would be more reassuring then an invisible smile.

“Doctor, we’ve got a survivor.” Riker’s voice came out of the gloom, drawing them all forward. Beverly let one of the security team with their torches take the lead, carefully navigating the debris that seemed to cover more and more of the floor as they closed on Riker’s position. “Here.” He pointed to a figure slumped against a bulkhead as Beverly drew level with him, shining his torch onto a pale, bloody forehead.

Beverly edged closer, wary of any further collapses, kneeling down beside the man and running her tricorder over him carefully, breathing a sign of relief as it showed that, other than being unconscious, the man had miraculously managed to avoid any serious injury. “He’s stable, and other than a nasty blow to the head he doesn’t seem to have any other obvious injuries.”

Riker nodded, obviously contemplating their next move. “Ok, have the transporter chief beam him to sickbay,” he motioned between himself and one of the security team, “we’ll check ahead and let you know when it’s safe and if we find anyone. This corridor seems stable enough for now, but you never know, it might just be waiting for one of us to take a step in the wrong direction, so be careful.”

Beverly smiled, “I always am.”

-

“Sir, there’s something…” Ensign Pincent, who had taken over tactical after Tarrin has left, cut off as a ship appeared on the view screen, shimmering into existence.

Leslie’s eyes widened, cloaks were never good, though the ship didn’t look like it belonged to any of the races that Leslie knew had cloaks, her brain automatically relaxing just a tiny bit in the face of the fact that it wasn’t Romulan.

“Raise shields.” Data ordered before Pincent could recover enough to finish his sentence, and Leslie was aware of Data standing and moving forward, taking up the position she had only vacated a few minutes before. “Data to Riker, a ship has just de-cloaked off the bow of the Canmore.”

Silence was the only answer that Data received and Leslie had a swallow hard, her hands suddenly shaking, just a little. Her mom was on the Canmore with Commander Riker, if they couldn’t get through to them…she shook her head, refusing to let herself finish the thought. Now wasn’t the time.

“Data to Commander Riker.” Data repeated, stepping back towards the tactical station, “Ensign Pincent can you get through to the away team?”

“No sir, there’s something blocking the signal.”

“Has the ship charged weapons or attempted to contact us in any way?” Data questioned.

“No sir.”

“Ensign Hyrok, can you identify the ship?” Leslie glanced sideways, realizing that Data had to be addressing the Betazoid beside her. Hyrok shook his head, even as he continued to work at his panel.

“It seems to be made from parts from a number of different ships, some Klingon, some Vulcan and some parts that could be anything.”

There was a pause, during which Leslie found herself staring numbly at the view screen, watching as the ship loomed over the Canmore. For all they knew it had been there the entire time, watching them and waiting for this moment.

“Chief O’Brien, prepare to beam the away team back to the ship as soon as the shields are dropped.”

”Aye sir.”

“Ensign Pincent, drop shields, as soon as the away team is safely aboard, raise them again.” Data ordered. It was the sensible thing to do, Leslie knew, though she couldn’t help but think that her mom wouldn’t be happy. She’d want to help all of the people on the Canmore first.

”I can’t get a lock on them.” O’Brien sounded frustrated, ”There’s something blocking the signal.”

Leslie bit her lip, her gaze drifting back up to the view screen and the mystery ship, dread taking up occupancy in her stomach. This really wasn’t looking good, and the longer they had their shields down….

“Understood Chief, Ensign Pincent, raise shields.” Data was only halfway through giving the order when Pincent started to speak, their voice merging momentarily.

“Commander the ship has powered up its weapons…”

Leslie flinched as the ship fired, desperately hoping that they were the target while at the same time willing Pincent to have raised the shields in time.

part two
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