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(Picard)
"Approaching alien vessel." said Ensign Jae.
A few more moments went by as they drifted through space at half-impulse. The officer at the conn spoke again, "Alien vessel 1000 metres away."
"Full stop."
The Enterprise slowed to a full stop, motionless in space with her shields down. The alien vessel was much smaller than her and it had a more trigonometric shape.
Picard waited a few moments before turning in his seat to look up at Worf, "Worf, are you receiving any transmissions?"
"Negative, sir."
"Comm them."
"No response, sir."
Riker spoke up, "Mr. Worf, what is their weapons and shields status?"
"No online weaponary or defensive systems detected."
Picard spoke again, "What are their baseline capabilities?"
"Minimal. Their weapons would have no effect on our hull. They possess minimal shielding capabilities. It is unlikely that they would survive a hit from one of our weapons, sir."
Picard turned back to the viewscreen. "Curious."
As soon as he said the word, a white ray of light shot out from the front point of the curved pyramid ship.
Picard straightened up, "Shields up!"
Worf immediately complied, "Shields are up."
"Damage report?"
"All areas remain unaffected. Our hull is undamaged."
"Alright, prepare the tractor beam," ordered Riker.
Ensign Jae broke in, "Sir, they've moving away. Powering up warp engines."
Before they could react, the exo-ship had vanished from their sensor range.
"They're gone."
Picard sighed. He was not sure exactly what to think of the situation. It was questionably inadvertent that an unregistered ship would appear out of the blue, attack them knowing that their prowess was superior— and attack them only once— an aggressive species would likely attack multiple times— and then retreat. Perhaps they wanted the Enterprise to follow. Picard would not fall for it. He had a diplomatic mission at hand. He could not afford distractions.
"Ensign, resume original course."
"Aye sir."
(Riker)
They arrived at the planet on time. There was, however, something wrong.
Many crewmembers, by report of Doctor Crusher, had been coming in to report that they were having symptoms that could only be related back to alpha-beta-omega issues. And that, furthermore, they were struggling to treat these symptoms. Not good.
And maybe it had something to do with that extraterrestrial starship. It wouldn't be far-fetched considering what they'd dealt with in the past.
This very problem created a lot of new problems that usually wouldn't be there. For one, the Captain was supposed to be beaming down, not him. This would, of course, always concern him, but he was now faced with a new concern: if all or most crew members were in fact having alpha-beta-omega symptoms, then that would mean there was a possibility of the Captain beaming down and having symptoms. That was a massive cause for concern. Riker did not think that anyone, especially omegas, should beam down.
And he did not think that because he disrespected omegas, he thought it because he knew it would put the crew members in a different kind of danger than they usually encountered. People, species, often had a stigma towards omegas. A lot of that stigma was dropped when they interacted with treated Starfleet officers, but Riker worried that that stigma would not be dropped now that the omegas' scents were not being blocked.
They would be treated like sexual objects, not beings. Riker would not allow anyone to be put into that position, and especially not the Captain of the ship.
ᑕ/\ᑐ
"You can't go down there."
"Number One, I understand that it is your job to protect the Captain, but this is an extremely important diplomatic mission. It is not an event I can miss. The Federation needs this — and it is my duty to put the needs of the Federation before myself."
"And it is my duty to make sure you don't do something stupid!"
Picard gave him a stern look, "Number One."
Riker's expression turned to something like regretfully mortified, "I—I'm sorry, sir. It must be the… the ABO symptoms."
Riker steeled himself, "But my point still stands. You beaming down is a security risk—"
"Riker, each of us, as Starfleet officers, have the right to make the decision to take that kind of risk. Without someone else telling us we can't. That's our freedom."
"—At least let me accompany you."
Picard regarded him with inquiry, "Do you realize how that will look, Number One?"
"Like what? Like a First Officer serving his duty to his Captain? I'm certain that if any other Captain was in the same situation, they'd be more than willing to take their First Officer down with them. My duty isn't an issue. And it doesn't look like anything," Riker growled.
"If you've truly worried for my health, Number One, Commander Data can accompany me. He will not be affected by the alpha-beta-omega symptoms. It is against protocol for the Captain and the First Officer to beam down on the same mission, especially if there is a known excess risk. I need you here incase anything happens."
Riker reached out and assertively grabbed Picard's lower arm, "I don't want you to—…" Riker's expression softened and his grip vanished.
He straightened up, pulling down his shirt, "Understood, sir."
Picard's gaze scrutinized him, "I would not want something like that happening down on Zeta 5. Dismissed."
ᑕ/\ᑐ
Captain Picard had been immediately beamed to sickbay after the Enterprise had re-established contact with the away team.
Once Data was on the bridge, Riker headed straight for sickbay.
This was exactly what he had feared would happen.
When he went into sickbay, he was met with a dreary Captain and a focused Doctor. He came and stood beside Picard's bed.
"How is he, Doctor?"
Beverly glanced up at him from her medical tricorder and spoke, "He's alright, just drugged with something close to flunitrazepam. We just have to wait for the effects to wear off and he'll be alright."
Riker frowned. He knew exactly what kind of drug that was.
He shifted, giving Beverly a look, "Nothing… else?"
Beverly took a moment to pause with her activities to give Riker a questioning look, "Will, I've never known you to get in the personal business of my patients."
Riker sighed. She needed an explanation. "I told him this exact thing was going to happen. I knew it was going to happen. If only I could have been down there— could have prevented it—"
"Will."
Riker realized he was staring down blankly at Picard's ripped uniform and rambling. He looked up at Beverly.
"He's alright. Nothing happened to him."
Riker stiffened and barked, "Alright."
He had planned to return to the bridge after that response, but he was stopped by a waking Captain.
Beverly was turned away, feeding tricorder readings into a machine.
Picard looked to him.
"Where— Number One?— You— They're not— You’re not…?" The expression Picard was giving him was terrified. The Captain looked more fearful than he had seen him before.
"You're not going to…?"
Riker knew what that meant. He grabbed Picard's hand first firmly, then gently, leaning over him to give him a firm look in the eyes.
"No."
Picard looked relieved. He relaxed, letting his guard down, turning to the Doctor.
"Beverly…?"
Beverly stopped what she was doing to address him. She gave him a kind look and came over to hold his other hand.
"Beverly," he looked at Riker, "Number One," then back to Beverly, "What happened?"
Beverly spoke up, "Well, Jean-Luc, what's the last thing you remember?"
It took a few moments before Picard began with a frail voice, "I… I was at the… the meeting with the Auterians. It was going well, nearing the end, until I had a sudden spike in my alpha-beta-omega symptoms. One of the Auterian officials took me away, stating that they'd supply me with a relief shot. I refused, but they still took me away. I was taken to a room and injected with something. Then everything was woozy. I can't remember. Data— maybe— he was there— I—" Picard struggled, cutting himself off.
Picard turned to Riker, giving him an apologetic look. Riker still had a hold on his hand. He didn't let go.
"Was Data a successful guard?"
Riker knew what he was asking. Beverly answered for him, "There's nothing wrong with you, Jean-Luc. The only thing I can detect are traces of flunitrazepam in your system— and its clearing out fast."
The Captain turned to him. Riker and Picard shared a brief look.
"Look, I'd love to play hand-holder, but I've got some medical readings to do right now," Beverly said before gently dropping Picard's hand.
She gave him a genuine soft smile. "I suggest you get some rest. I'm relieving you of duty for the next 24 hours."
Picard visibly cringed at that, but before he could protest, Beverly stepped away and began towards the other side of the medical bay.
Picard once again looked to him, "It's nice to know that she's on point."
Riker gave him an unabashed smile, "And it's nice to know that you're alright."
Picard studied him for many moments, then lowered his head back down onto the medical bed. His eyes closed. Riker found he did not want to leave his Captain quite yet, so he stayed, holding his hand.
Riker was spacing out peacefully until he felt a hand slide against his back. He jolted in place, then looked to see who it was.
Deanna.
He gave her a enthusiastic smile and stepped back, handing her Picard's hand.
"It's nice of you to show up," Riker said.
She took the unconscious Captain's hand in hers and gave Riker a smile, "I was wondering where you were."
Troi turned to Picard, "Is he alright?"
"Yes, turns out he's perfectly alright. He'll just need some rest before he can return to his normal duties."
Troi turned to look at him, that soft smile still on her face, "You were worried about him," she said knowingly.
Riker served her with a grin, "That I was," he stated proudly.