Chapter Text
“Energize.”
Commander William Riker watched as Chief O’Brien dissolved from view. Or, more accurately, he dissolved on the transporter pad, his molecules rearranged into energy to be beamed down onto the surface of the planet below.
Riker appeared in the middle of a forest, surrounded by towering trees that, on Earth, would be considered old growth pines. The crisp scent of fresh air mingled with the woodsy aroma of the native flora. It was spring on this part of the planet. Riker took a deep inhale.
“Reminds me of being back home in Alaska,” he said, smiling over his shoulder to his away team partner, Dr. Beverly Crusher.
“I’ve never been,” she replied, all business as she pulled her tricorder out of the pocket of her brown pants.
They were both out of uniform, dressed in replicated clothing that would allow them to blend in with this pre-warp, pre-first-contact society. The doctor wore a green button down shirt and a leather jacket in addition to the simple cotton pants, and Riker was dressed in denim jeans and a red plaid flannel. He felt a bit like a lumberjack from some ancient Earth story, back when they still chopped down trees by the dozen for things like heat and paper. All he needed to complete the look was an axe.
“Someone’s approaching from the northeast,” Dr. Crusher said, quickly putting away her tricorder. “Shall we?”
“After you, Doctor.” Riker gestured for her to go first. He followed close behind—one never knew what to expect on a strange new world like this one.
They’d walked a few hundred meters when Riker began to hear the sounds of chopping wood.
“Is someone there?” Crusher called, making her voice thin and reedy. “Hello?”
The chopping stopped.
“Hello?” a voice shouted back.
“Oh, thank goodness!” She picked up her pace, and Riker jogged after her. Coming into view through the trees was a humanoid woman with two teal braids and a scrap of fabric tied in a knot like a headband. She was dressed in overalls with a flannel not unlike Riker’s tied around her waist. She shifted back, clearly startled by their approach, so Riker put up his hands in a gesture of peace.
“Who the hell are you?” the woman asked. She held her axe down at her side, but he could see from her white knuckles that she had a firm grip on it, ready to use it if need be.
“I’m Will, and this is Beverly,” Riker said gently. “We’re refugees.”
“Refugees?” The woman looked back and forth between them, confusion wrinkling her brow. “From where?”
“From the war, of course,” Crusher said. “From the Gotoro Empire.”
The woman simply stared at them.
“What’s your name?” Riker asked. Standard procedure for dealing with a pre-warp society—make friends quickly, and try to get them to see you as more similar to themselves than different.
“Ziya,” she said cautiously.
“Ziya,” Riker repeated. He ducked his head to look less intimidating and looked her in the eye with all the sincerity he could muster. “We’re just looking for a place to stay for a few days. We mean you no harm.”
“I’ve never heard of there being Gotoran refugees,” Ziya asked, her eyes full of suspicion. “How did you get here?”
“A ship—well, more like a boat, really,” Crusher said. “A group of us landed several kilometers east of here. We all split up as soon as we landed.”
“We’ve been walking for days,” Riker jumped in. “Please, if there’s anywhere nearby we might stay…”
Ziya seemed to soften a bit. “I might know someone.” She pointed her axe at the tree in front of her. It had a wedge cut deep into its side. “Let me finish chopping this sucker down first so it’s not a hazard.” Looking back to Riker, she added, “You look handy with an axe. There’s an extra one in my bag. Give me a hand?”
He pointed at himself, as if to say, “Who, me?” but Ziya was already squaring up to the tree trunk. Crusher shot him a look that clearly meant, I can’t wait to see this.
Ziya readied to swing. Riker retrieved the extra axe from her backpack and stood facing her. He tossed a quick wink at Crusher and then set to chopping down the tree. He and his father hadn’t needed wood for heat or paper when he was growing up, but they had needed to clear parts of the land to minimize the chances of brush fires close to their home. It had been many years since Riker had left the woods of Alaska, but apparently there were some skills that never truly went away.
Soon, Riker’s forehead was damp with perspiration, and the trunk was barely holding together. Ziya, who hadn’t broken a sweat at all, lifted her leg and gave the tree a firm shove with the sole of her boot to ensure it fell away from them.
“Timber!” she hollered as the great pine came crashing down. She turned to Riker and Crusher with a huge grin. “I never get tired of that sound. Follow me. I’ll take you to Marnie’s.”
Riker had the distinct feeling that he’d passed some kind of test. Ziya’s suspicion seemed to have vanished as quickly as he had vanished off the transporter pad mere minutes ago.
Crusher fell into step beside him as they walked. “Impressive,” she murmured. “I had no idea you could swing an axe like that.”
“I wasn’t sure I remembered how,” he chuckled, then glanced down at his palms. “I just hope you brought a dermal regenerator. I can already feel the blisters forming.”
~*~
“They don’t look Gotoran,” Marnie whispered to Ziya once they were in the kitchen and safely out of earshot.
She busied herself with making tea for her unexpected guests. Generally, she was happy to take folks in—her nephew, for one; and Jas, of course; and really anyone in need of a listening ear—but she had to admit she was surprised when Ziya walked in with two strangers who needed a place to sleep for a few days.
One of whom just happened to be the handsomest man she’d ever seen in her life.
“Marnie!” Ziya said, looking shocked. “Don’t say that. Gotorans are just as diverse as Ferngillians.”
“Oh, Ziya, you know me better than that. That’s not what I mean.” She waved her hand sharply. “They look too… too clean. I don’t know about you, but if I’d escaped from a war-torn country on a boat and then walked several miles and slept on the ground for a few days, I doubt I’d look like I’d just stepped out of the shower and put on fresh clothes.”
Ziya bit her bottom lip. “I suppose so. But they don’t seem like spies. What kind of spy knows how to chop down a tree?”
“One who is very committed to going deep undercover,” Marnie replied, quirking an eyebrow at her friend.
Ziya laughed. “You’ve been reading too many thrillers, Marn.”
Marnie couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe so. But you’re right… they don’t seem like spies to me either. I don’t know why a spy would come to Pelican Town anyway. We aren’t worth much to the war effort.”
“And if they aren’t spies, why would they lie about being refugees?” Ziya asked with a shrug.
Marnie shrugged too. She had no answer for that question.
The tea kettle began to whistle, and Marnie quickly finished preparing the tea tray.
~*~
Once the two local women had gone into the kitchen, Riker leaned close to Crusher and quietly asked, “What do you think?” They were seated on a comfortable couch, clean and worn in, in a living room oddly decorated with hay bales and wooden barrels.
“I’m not sure what to make of it yet,” the doctor responded, a curious expression on her face. “They seem almost ignorant that there’s a war going on at all.”
“It’s a small town,” he suggested, remembering the briefing they’d received before this mission. Data’s scans of the planet had revealed that this town had fewer than fifty residents. “Maybe they are shielded from the worst of it.”
“Perhaps.” Crusher looked deep in thought. “I’m just not sure we’re going to learn much here.”
“Then it’ll be a short mission,” Riker said with a smile.
“Here we are!” called Marnie, the woman who owned the ranch where Ziya had brought them. She carried a tray with all the accouterments of afternoon tea. Ziya was following her with yet another tray laden with cookies. “Our neighbor Caroline grows the most wonderful tea. I’m sure it’ll be just the thing after so many days of travel.”
“Much obliged,” said Riker, granting her another of his smiles. He detected a faint blush on her cheeks. Was that from him, or simply from standing over a hot stove?
They made awkward conversation over their tea and cookies. The away team repeated their story of coming across the strait separating the Empire from the Republic. They filled in some invented details about what their lives in Gotoro had been like—details pulled directly from the news stories the Enterprise computer had been able to download. LaForge and Data had had no problem getting all the information they could want from the Gotoran side. But for some reason, Ferngill Republic’s news servers and computers had been blocked at every turn.
And though the crew of the Enterprise had a Prime Directive not to interfere with the natural development of another world, they were still explorers. Gathering information from only one side of a war was unwise at best, dangerous at worst. It seemed that the only way they would be able to learn the Ferngillians’ side of things would be to spend some time among them.
The only trouble was, they seemed to have picked the only town in the nation to have nothing to do with the war. Riker and Crusher tried to insert questions and open-ended comments into their stories, subtly inviting Marnie and Ziya to fill in their own details about the war from their perspective. But neither of them had much to say.
Like he’d said… it might be a short mission.
“I should get going,” Ziya said as the conversation drew to a natural close. “I need to go chop up that tree before it gets too dark.”
Crusher gave Riker a sidelong glance. He returned it with a subtle nod.
“Actually, I was wondering if you might have a local doctor,” she said. “I studied medicine back home, and if there’s anything I can do to help while I’m in town, I’d be happy to assist.”
This was another of their plans. Wars meant bloodshed, and the town physician was sure to know something about casualties, not to mention any advances in medical technology brought on by the conflict. Who better to discuss such things with than a fellow doctor?
“Oh, sure,” Ziya said. “That would be Dr. Harvey. I can take you two over there.”
“I think I might stay here and get some rest,” Riker said. “If that’s all right with you, Marnie?”
“Y-yes, of course!” she replied. “Mister…?”
“Just Will is fine,” he said.
”Then I’ll show you to the guest room… Will.”
Upstairs, Marnie led him to a cozy bedroom. She flipped on the light as they entered. “I hope this will be comfortable enough for you and your wife.”
Riker laughed. “No, no, Beverly isn’t my wife. She’s my sister.”
Marnie’s eyes widened. “But you don’t look anything alike!”
“I was adopted,” he lied smoothly. Being family members was a simpler cover story than being a couple. There was less worry about sticking to a shared romantic history, and it kept open certain… options with the locals. Should the need arise.
“Oh, how nice,” Marnie said, moving over to the curtains to let in some light. “My nephew, Shane, is the guardian for the sweetest little girl since her parents died. I’m glad someone could do that for you as well.”
“And what about you?” he asked. “Any family besides your nephew? A husband currently on his way home from work, perhaps?”
She let out a derisive snort as she pulled back the curtains. The slanting sunlight of a spring afternoon flooded the room with warmth and light.
“Nothing of the sort. I… that is…” She tossed up her hands in surrender. “Oh, Yoba, you’ll be leaving soon anyway, so I might as well tell someone. The mayor and I have an… arrangement.”
Riker’s ears pricked up. If this woman had the mayor’s ear, perhaps he could use that as an inroad. Certainly the leader of the town must have more political information they could learn.
But Marnie hadn’t finished. It seemed like once she’d started talking, there was no stopping her. She began to pace as she continued, “He wants to keep it a secret because he has a reputation to uphold. As if being seen with me would somehow be detrimental to him. Quite frankly I’m sick of it, so I called it off last week. It’s not the first time I’ve done that. But maybe this time, if I’m lucky, it’ll finally stick.”
In the quiet that followed her monologue, Riker paused and took Marnie in. He felt like he was seeing her for the first time. What sort of man could possibly treat this woman so abhorrently? She was generous and warm and kind, not to mention beautiful. She had a long, thick braid of dark brown hair and deep brown eyes to match. She had round cheeks perfect for holding in your palms while getting lost in those big eyes before leaning forward and—
“Yoba,” she said, invoking for the second time a name Riker didn’t know. She covered those lovely cheeks with her hands. “Did I say all of that out loud?”
“Yes,” he said gently. He took two steps closer to her, careful not to get too close. “Why do you go back to him if that’s how he treats you?”
She shook her head, still holding her face. “I don’t… I don’t know. Who else is there for me in a town this small?”
All thoughts of using Marnie to get closer to the mayor flew from Riker’s mind. The only thing he cared about right now was making sure she heard what he was about to say.
He took one more step toward her. “I don’t know. But I do know that you don’t deserve to be treated that way, Marnie. Not by anyone. I hope you remember that, even after I’m gone.”
Marnie didn’t respond for a long moment. She held his gaze and blinked at him slowly. Then, all of a sudden, the moment was gone. Her whole body shook, as if shaking off a dream, and she tore her gaze away.
“I should let you rest,” she said quickly, moving to the door. “The bathroom is down the hall. There are fresh towels in there if you want to… if you need them. If you need anything else, holler. I’ll just be downstairs.”
”Marnie,” he said before she could disappear. She paused in the doorway, looking over her shoulder at him. “Thank you.”
~*~
Marnie shut the guest room door behind her and hurried downstairs. What in Yoba’s name was wrong with her? Had it been so long since a man had looked at her like that? Like he’d actually seen her?
That was not a complication she needed in her life. She was happy with things the way they were. Mostly. When Lewis wasn’t being a complete fool and making her run around after dark like a teenager afraid of getting caught by her parents. She had Shane and Jas to liven up her home, animals to care for, friends to laugh with, and a thriving business. She had purpose in her life, and love, and security. She had kicked Lewis to the curb—again—and was determined it would be for good this time. What more could she possibly need?
But, oh, the way those piercing blue eyes looked at her. The way he smiled, as if there was nothing more important in the world than smiling. The broadness of his chest and how she knew she would feel safe in his arms. And… sweet Yoba, his dark, perfectly trimmed beard, so much more refined than a bushy gray mustache.
Marnie grabbed a notepad from her reception desk and fanned herself. She puffed out a breath.
The sooner Will and Beverly left Pelican Town, the better.
~*~
Riker followed Marnie to the door and listened to her footsteps on the stairs. He pressed a palm to the wood and held it there for just a moment, then stepped away and pulled his communicator out of his pocket. It chirped when he tapped it.
“Riker to Enterprise.”
No one responded.
He tried again. Tap. Chirp. “Riker to Enterprise. Come in, Enterprise.”
Captain Picard’s garbled voice came through. “We’re… troub—… Number One… —ference.”
Riker brushed a hand roughly over his face. Just what he needed. “Enterprise, say again,” he said firmly.
More garbled sounds and static, and then the signal finally cleared. “… some kind of interference. We’re having trouble locking on to you or Dr. Crusher. Do you need assistance?”
“Negative, Captain,” he said, speaking quickly in case the signal went out again. “But this may not be the best town to get information. We may need to abort and try somewhere else.”
La Forge’s voice came over the communicator next. “I’m not sure that’ll be possible, Commander. We’re doing our best up here, but I can’t figure out what’s causing the interference. I’m seeing some strange readings. The air seems to be filled with some strange particles that are—”
The communicator gave a sad chirp and went dead. Riker tried again. He didn’t have much hope of reestablishing contact, but protocols were protocols. “Enterprise, come in. Enterprise, do you read me?”
Nothing.
He knew better than to try Crusher while she might be around some of the townsfolk. There was nothing to do now but wait.