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From: 95lnm@cs.williams.edu (Lisa Masterman)
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
Subject: an offical copy of "Aeia"
Date: Tue, 5 Jan 93 21:01:40 EST

sorry for the delay.  I've been extraordinarily busy, but I would love it if
you could put this updated copy of "Aeia" into the archive.

Thank you.

--lisa
95lnm@cs.williams.edu
lmasterm@cs.ulowell.edu


"Aeia"

PART ONE

Captain's Log, Stardate 45824.4:  The Enterprise has been assigned to map a 
fairly remote region of space close to one extreme of the Romulan Neutral 
Zone.  My crew and I have been surprised to discover in this system a class 
'M' planet, something we did not expect to come across in this largely 
unexplored sector.  Counselor Troi has given me reason to believe that there 
may be some form of intelligent life waiting undiscovered on the surface.

"Explain, Counselor."

Troi shook her head, looking intensely at the floor as if an explanation lay 
hidden beneath the carpet.  "I think there is something down there.  
Something very-"  She broke off, looking up at the viewscreen for a moment.  
A blue-green planet filled the screen and pushed itself into her mind, along 
with...  something.  "Something very strong, yet - very elusive."  She turned 
to face the captain with a long sigh.  "I can't seem to grasp it; every time I 
think I can really sense it, it slips away."

Commander Riker, sitting attentively to the right of the captain, spoke up.  
"Sir, whether there is something down there or not, it warrants investigation.  
There is a class 'M' planet here that no one knows about."

"Agreed, Number One.  Assemble your away team and report to me if you 
find anything."

Riker nodded and stood up briskly, striding across the bridge towards the 
turbolift.  He turned to nod to Troi and Data, who rose to follow him.  
Entering the turbolift, he tapped his badge communicator.  "Riker to 
Engineering.  Geordi, report for away team duty," he said as the doors shut.

Troi let her breath out slowly as she felt a sensation like a weight lifting.  
We're headed in the right direction, she thought.

----------------------------------------------------

The team materialized moments later on the crest of a large hill.  To their 
right, another hill rose above them with an almost vertical slope.  In the 
other direction lay a vast scar on the earth strewn with rubble and large 
rocks towards the perimeter.  Before them, a breathtaking valley opened up, 
descending steeply to a large lake.  Beyond the lake rose a crescent-shaped 
ridge of spectacular mountain cliffs.

Home, thought Troi.  She shook her head again.  Where did THAT thought 
come from?

Data was busily scanning their surroundings with his tricorder.  "Sir, there 
are very strange readings coming from within the steep hill above us.  It is 
possible that a large network of caverns exists at this level that extend far 
below the surface.  There is a propensity of an element with which I am 
unfamiliar."

Geordi had walked off towards the rubble to their left.  "What happened 
here?"

Data followed him and bent over a cluster of jagged rocks.  After busying 
himself with his tricorder for several seconds, he reported, "It seems to be 
the ruins of a cluster of artificial structures.  Origin: unknown."

Commander Riker stepped carefully through the rubble.  "Homes?"

"Very possibly, sir," responded the android.  "Further analysis of the ruins 
might reveal that information."

"So someone was here," said the Commander quietly.  "Can you discern any 
technology?"  He frowned at the stones at his feet.  They looked like rocks to 
him.

"At first appraisal the technology of the structures appears to be 
rudimentary, but-"

"But?"

"There is insufficient data to say, sir.  I would need to collect more 
information to properly reconstruct the original design of the structures.  
Judging from the building materials and the layout of the ruins, however, 
one could pose a hypothesis that these structures were not as simple as they 
first appear."

"Do you think humanoids lived here?"

"I cannot say, sir."

Riker moved across the strewn rocks to a clearer space.  The valley spread 
itself out beneath him.  The area was green, lush, full of life. He turned back 
to the ruins, and mused on the irony of such devastation cohabiting with 
such beauty.  He rhetorically echoed Geordi's earlier question: "What 
happened here?"

"I don't know," answered Geordi from where he crouched beside a crumbled 
wall.  "Whatever it was, it didn't happen that long ago.  I'd guess three to 
five years.  I'll say one thing, though."  He gestured to the rock he was 
studying.  It was scarred with phaser marks.  "This settlement wasn't just 
abandoned and left to fall apart.  It was destroyed."

Data looked up from his tricorder.  "That correlates with my findings, sir."

"Thank you, Data."  Riker glanced over to Troi, who had been standing 
quietly on the edge of the ruins, looking over the edge of the knoll.  "Have 
you sensed anything, Deanna?"

"What I feel hasn't changed," she responded quietly.  "Something's here, I 
just don't know where..."  Her voice trailed off as she looked around her, 
trying to get a fix on what she sensed.  Her brow furrowed in frustration.

"If I may, sir?"

Riker returned to the others.  "Go ahead, Data."

"It would appear to be somewhat odd that we have found no other artifacts."

"Explain."

"Archaeological ruins are usually accompanied by the many elements of 
daily life: cooking implements, discarded trash, personal belongings...  We 
have found no such objects in these ruins."

"Maybe they took everything with them," suggested Geordi.

"That is a possibility," admitted Data, "but it is unlikely, since these ruins 
suffered some form of attack."

"What if they knew the attack was coming?" Riker asked.

"But why take every single thing?" said Troi from the edge of the ruins.  
"And if there was no one and nothing here, then why attack the settlement?"

"Maybe there WASN'T anyone here," said Geordi.  "I mean, we haven't found 
any bones or remains of any kind."

"It is possible that the enemy or predatory animals removed the bodies of 
the slain," said Data.

"And it is possible that the enemy could have taken everything from their 
homes," said Troi.  She frowned, thinking that their line of reasoning wasn't 
getting them any further.

Geordi voiced her thoughts as he sat down upon one of the larger rocks.  
"Doesn't look like we're finding any answers.  Only more questions."

Data walked over to the far edge of the ruins and busied himself with his 
tricorder.  "Commander," he said, "I am still detecting unusual readings from 
this hill.  There is definitely an unfamiliar element here, buried beneath the 
surface."

Riker surveyed the steep hillside that rose from the edge of the ruins.  "You 
say there are caves in there?"

Data paused for a moment as he examined the readings on his tricorder.  
"Affirmative, sir."

"Is there any way of accessing the caves?"

"Yes, sir," said the android as he strode away from the ruins.  The rest of the 
away team followed him.

Moments later, they were walking along the sandy and rock-strewn floor of 
a dark passageway beneath the surface of the hill.  The only light was that 
emitted from their hand-held lamps, but the beams were reflected off of the 
surfaces of the rock around them and more than amply illuminated their 
way.  The walls were uneven, with large pieces of crystal jutting from the 
rock and jagged, angular surfaces reflecting and bouncing their lights with 
prismatic effects.  The ceiling arced two to three feet above their heads, 
echoing the sounds of their movements.

Riker's communicator chirped.  "Report, Number One," spoke Captain Picard's 
voice.

The Commander tapped his badge in a brisk motion.  "We've just entered a 
series of caves, Captain.  We found some old ruins outside, but were unable 
to gather much information from them.  We're hoping that the caves will 
provide us with some answers."

"Captain," spoke Data from where he stood next to one wall, "the passageway 
seems to be carved through a crystalline substance unfamiliar to me.  The 
molecular structure is very dense."

"The Enterprise's scanners have detected this substance," said the Captain's 
voice.  "What can you tell me about it?"

"I've never seen anything like it," said Geordi.  "It has a very complex cell 
structure, very rigid.  The crystal in the walls is almost flawless...  This stuff 
must be harder by a factor of ten than the hardest substance known to 
Federation science!"

"Actually," corrected Data, "my initial findings would indicate that it is 
harder by a factor of-"

"Save it, Data," interrupted the Commander.

"Very well," spoke the Captain's voice.  "Keep me apprised."

"Understood, sir; Riker out."  Riker turned to Data.  "You said that this 
passageway was carved?"

"It is highly improbable that it was formed by chance, sir.  I see no evidence 
of the crystal being cut, however.  The surfaces are very smooth, and no 
rudimentary tools have been used to alter them."

"It also seems highly improbable," mused Geordi, "that the same people who 
built those structures out there are responsible for what's in here.  Whoever 
carved their way through this stuff has to be in possession of considerable 
technology.  They wouldn't be living in rocks."

"Let's continue," spoke up Troi.  Her companions agreed and they proceeded 
along the corridor.

Their progress was abruptly halted a moment later when the passageway 
was terminated unexpectedly by a pile of boulders and rock fragments that 
reached the ceiling of the tunnel.  Troi's face betrayed her disappointment.  
She genuinely believed that they had been approaching something - the 
same something that she had sensed before.

Riker climbed onto one of the rocks for a better vantage point to where the 
pile met the ceiling.  "Data, is there anything beyond this?"

"Unknown, Commander.  The properties of the rock seem to be interfering 
with the tricorder's sensors.  The problem has been slowly growing worse as 
we go further beneath the surface."

"I think I may have found a way through," called Geordi.  He had climbed up 
the pile, and was working his way towards the left wall.  "It will be a tight 
squeeze," he warned.

"What's beyond the barrier?" asked the Commander.

"I don't know.  Looks like it opens up into a chamber of some sort.  Hold on, 
let me get through..."  For a few seconds, the Chief Engineer scrambled across 
sliding rocks, working his way through
the hole.  He disappeared from sight.  "It is a chamber," he shouted from the 
other side.  There was a moment of silence, and then he added, "Commander, 
I think you should see this."

Riker worked his way over to where Geordi had been, and began to clamber 
through the hole.  Troi followed, and Data came through last.

The chamber beyond was not very large.  The ceiling and walls only 
expanded slightly from the dimensions they had held along the corridor.  
Another passageway led off from the chamber, banking out of sight.  What 
had caught the Chief Engineer's attention, however, was located right in the 
center of the chamber: a giant crystal was laid lengthwise into a stone 
mount.  There was someone inside.

"She was young," commented Geordi as he shone his light into the crystal.

"Do you think that they - whoever they are - built these passageways just to 
bury her?" Riker asked.

Data cocked his head to the left.  "I assume, Commander, that you are 
thinking of a parallel to the ancient stone pyramids of Earth's historic 
Egyptians?  If I may, sir, I would like to hazard a conjecture that would 
negate your statement.  Tricorder readings indicate some energy emissions 
which do not match the pattern of the other foreign substances in the cave.  
They could be indications that this girl is not dead."

"You're right, Data," said Troi.  "I think she is what I sensed.  She was calling 
to me..."

Geordi leaned down to examine the rock.  "If she's not dead, then what is 
she?  She's encased in solid crystal."

"Some form of suspended animation?" suggested Riker.

"That is possible," responded Data.  "However, sir, it would not explain why 
the tricorder can detect the living tissue inside the crystal, even with its 
sensor abilities hampered.  It would also not explain why she was 
'summoning' Counselor Troi."

"I think I may have your answer," interrupted Geordi.  He was standing 
down by where the feet of the encased woman were; his light shone upon a 
rock that had landed upon the crystal.  "This stuff is hard, but not as hard as 
the substance in the walls here.  There's a minute crack in the crystal down 
along her right leg."

"If the integrity of the crystal has been damaged, then the state of 
suspension could have been broken," suggested Data.

Geordi frowned.  "But she's still encased in crystal.  If she came back like 
this, she couldn't possibly survive."

Troi's hand wasn't fast enough in covering her mouth to conceal her gasp.  
She both recognized the logic in Geordi's words and sensed their truth.  
"She's dying!"

Riker briskly tapped his badge.  "Riker to Enterprise."  There was silence.

"The foreign substance must be interfering with communication, 
Commander," said Data.

"Go back towards the entrance and see if you can reach the Enterprise, 
Geordi.  Tell Dr. Crusher we have a possible medical emergency.  Data, see if 
you can widen the opening a little so the medical team can get through."  He 
regarded the cold crystal in front of him for a while.  Barely visible in the 
darkness, a pale face could be seen within.  "We may have to carry her out."

As Geordi and Data left the chamber, Troi circled around the crystal form.  
Her hand reached out cautiously to touch the smooth surface.  It was cold to 
her fingertips.

Riker regarded her silently for a moment.  "Is she in pain?" he asked gently.

Troi's dark eyes, shadowed by the poor light in the cavern, grew darker still.  
She shook her head, letting her midnight black curls fall in front of her 
shoulders.  "I don't know," she said in a voice that was more breath than 
sound.

Just then the quiet was disturbed by the loud clamor of Data's efforts on the 
rockpile.  He returned shortly, followed by Lieutenant LaForge.  "The opening 
is now sufficiently larger," reported the android.

"Dr. Crusher will be here soon," added Geordi.  He looked across at the 
crystal.  It was drawing their regards, absorbing them in its dark depths.  "I 
told her to bring some anti-grav units, in case we have to move this out by 
hand."

Riker nodded in response.  The team regarded the crystal in silence for a few 
moments.

The falling of loose rock announced the arrival of the medical team.  While 
two junior medical officers stood by, Dr. Crusher ran her instruments over 
the crystal to no avail.  "I can read something, life signs perhaps, but nothing 
I can make sense of," she stated in frustration.

"The substance this cave is made of is interfering with a lot of our 
equipment," explained Riker.  "Can you get her out?"

The CMO shoved her useless instrument into her pocket and frowned at the 
Commander.  She shook her head.  "I don't even know how she got in there, 
or what's keeping her alive, if she is indeed still alive."

"She is," Troi said quietly.

"Could we cut her out, and bring the crystal back for examination on board 
the Enterprise?" asked Riker.

Dr. Crusher signaled 'no' with her head.  "There's no way of telling how 
interfering with the crystal structure will affect her stasis.  Our best bet is to 
try and remove her here, carry her body out to the entrance, and then 
transport her to sick bay.  But if she is still alive, I'm not sure she'd survive 
any one of those steps."

"We have to try," said Troi.

Dr. Crusher regarded the Counselor for a moment, and then signaled her 
medical team to approach the crystal.  "I'll do my best," she said.

"That's the most she could ask for," observed Geordi.




"Aeia"

PART TWO

Lieutenant Commander Data approached the medical team.  "Doctor, if I may 
make a suggestion."

"Yes, Data?"

"If we could exploit the piezoelectric effect, we could cause the crystal to 
oscillate to the point of disintegration."

"That's right!" said Geordi enthusiastically.  Noting the blank looks of the 
CMO, Counselor Troi, and his commanding officer, he explained: "Each crystal 
has a resonant frequency.  If you impose a voltage across the crystal which 
is varying at its resonant frequency, the internal structure of the crystal will 
start to vibrate.  If the amplitude of the vibrations is sufficient, the structure 
will disintegrate."

"Can we do this without harming the girl?" asked Dr. Crusher.

"I cannot say," responded the android.

"If it  will work, it is worth a try," said Counselor Troi.  "It may be her only 
chance."

Dr. Crusher nodded grimly.  She could see no other viable alternative.

Riker turned to the other members of his away team.  "Data, Geordi, can you 
do it with the equipment we have here?"

"Affirmative, Commander," said Data.

"Then do it."

"If the equipment still works," added Geordi as he bent over the form.  He 
and Data worked quickly, placing the instruments on the crystal.  Data 
calculated the proper frequency and turned the voltage on.  There was a 
brief hum, and suddenly the crystal collapsed.

All moved forward at once to clear the shards from the girl.  "Pick her up, 
Data," commanded Dr. Crusher.  The android reached forward and lifted the 
slender form from the shattered remains of the crystal and held her while 
Dr. Crusher scanned her body with a lightning pass of her instruments.  
"Damn this crystal," she muttered under her breath.  Shoving the 
instruments back into her pocket, she pressed her fingers against the neck; 
only a couple of seconds were required before a weak yet familiar pressure 
passed beneath her fingertips.  "She's got a pulse," she announced, "but she 
won't have it for long.  Let's get her out of here."

"Data," ordered Riker, "carry her to the entrance.  We'll follow."

The android walked in brisk steps towards the entrance with Dr. Crusher and 
her two assistants on his heels.  "Enterprise," shouted Dr. Crusher's voice once 
she'd disappeared.  "Enterprise!"  Finally there must have been a response, 
for her voice continued: "Five to beam to Sick Bay; Medical Emergency."  And 
with the familiar sound of the transporter beam, she was gone.

Troi lingered for a moment over the stone mount where the crystal had 
been.  "Look at this, Will."

Riker and Geordi approached the mount from the other side.  Troi kneeled 
down by the end where the girl's feet had been.  Loose rock and stone were 
piled up against the side of the stone mount; behind them, the rock was 
cracked.  Troi pushed against the cracked area, causing the thin stone panel 
to fall in.

"I thought I saw something through the crack," she explained.  She pulled out 
a long crystal shard, about one foot long and three inches in diameter.  She 
handed it to Geordi, who turned it over and over in his hands as he 
examined it.

"Strange," observed Riker.  He shone his light through the shard.  Unlike the 
other crystals, which were mostly transparent, this one had a milky color 
and was opaque.

"More than strange," answered the Chief Engineer.  "This doesn't look like it 
follows a cell structure at all.  The molecular patterns are all over the place."

"Bring it back to the Enterprise," directed Riker.  He turned and walked out 
of the cavern, followed by Troi.  Geordi cradled the crystal in his palm and 
strode after them.

-----------------------------------------------------

Dr. Crusher leaned across the conference table.  "She's alive, but in some sort 
of coma," she said with a tired voice that revealed how hard she'd been 
fighting for the girl's life.  "She's suffering from massive cell damage in 
almost all areas of her body, most severely along the right leg.  I'm not sure 
I'm going to be able to save it."

"That was where the crack in the crystal was," observed Geordi.  Dr. Crusher 
nodded in return.

"Can you tell us anything about her?" asked Picard.

Dr. Crusher sighed.  "Physically, she appears to be human, about eighteen or 
nineteen years of age."

"Physically?" prompted Commander Riker.

The CMO nodded.  "Everything about her seems perfectly normal, except for 
her neural activity.  Even though she's unconscious, her brain functions keep 
bouncing off the normal human scale.  Further examination of her brain 
showed significant differences in the organization and function of her neural 
pathways."  She drew in a long breath, leaning back in her chair.  "That's all 
the information I have right now."

"Understood," said Picard.  "Keep us informed of any change in her 
condition."  He turned to his Chief Engineer.  "Mr. LaForge, have you anything 
to report on the crystal you brought back from the chamber?"

"Yes, sir."  Geordi leaned forward and touched the panel in front of him, 
bringing up a visual on the display at the end of the conference table.  A 
diagram of the crystal rotated on the screen.  "When I first looked at the 
shard, I was confused by the apparent disorder of its molecular structure.  
On a hunch, though, I compared it to the data I managed to collect on the 
crystal in the caves, and I made an interesting discovery."  The view on the 
crystal zoomed in to show the individual molecular patterns.  "Using the 
ship's computer, I was able to examine the structure of the shard and 
compare it to the 'raw' crystal of the cavern.  What I found was that the 
lattice structure of this crystal has been modified into certain repeating 
patterns."

"You mean someone changed it on purpose?" asked Troi.

"That would be my guess."

"Implications?" asked the Captain.

"I think it's a form of writing," answered LaForge.   "The cell structure of this 
crystal is uniquely suited to this purpose.  The cell structure is so complex 
yet so regular that it lends itself very well to this kind of three-dimensional 
binary code."

"Is there any way we can read it?" asked Commander Riker.

Geordi shook his head.  "Without a key to get us started, no."

"What we need," said Picard, "is the Rosetta Stone, or rather an appropriate 
parallel."

"Yeah," admitted the Chief Engineer.  "Hopefully our friend can help us out 
when she wakes up."

The Captain stood up.  "In the meantime, continue our observations of the 
planet, and let's hope that our guest revives from her coma soon.  Dismissed."

---------------------------------------------------

"Doctor," summoned the young ensign.

Dr. Crusher moved over to the bed where the girl lay.  The ensign explained: 
"She's coming around - I think."  Crusher smiled at the youth, knowing his 
uncertainly was merited in the case of this particular patient, since her 
neural readouts were so unfamiliar.  The CMO got a brief smile in response 
before the ensign moved out of her way.

The girl on the bed let out a barely discernable moan.  "Well," said Dr. 
Crusher, "looks like Sleeping Beauty is finally going to join us."  She leaned 
down over her patient and pressed a hypo into her neck, waiting with a 
smile for her to wake.  She was delighted to see her patient passing from the 
dangerous stage in her recovery, and though she harbored an inner concern 
that that there might be lasting brain damage, she pushed that thought into 
the back of her mind and tried, like she did with all of her patients, to hope 
for the best.

Dr. Crusher was caught completely off guard when this previously motionless 
and quiet form let out an ear-splitting shriek of grief and pain upon her first 
moment of consciousness.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Deanna," called Riker as he bent over the crumpled form of the Ship's 
Counselor.

"Will," she responded feebly.  "The grief...  The emptiness..."  She allowed the 
Commander to prop her into a sitting position, where she sat rubbing her 
temple with one hand while she covered her eyes with the other.  "I don't 
think I've ever felt anything like that," she said in a voice made sharp by the 
threat of tears.

"It'll be all right," said Riker as he helped Troi to her feet.  Leaning against 
him, she managed to smile at the concerned faces around her, who relaxed 
and returned to their duties.

The bridge communicator chirped.  "Crusher to the bridge."

"Riker here."

"Our guest is awake.  You can talk to her now."

Riker looked at Troi, who nodded in confirmation of his unspoken question.  
It was the girl's cry she'd felt.  "We'll be right there.  I'll inform the Captain.  
Riker out."  He and Troi headed for the turbolift.

When Troi walked into Sick Bay, her eyes immediately found the young girl.  
She looked very different from the girl they had lifted from the crystal; a 
small amount of color had returned to the pale face, and an indescribable 
aura surrounded her that seemed to affirm the hold she had regained on life.  
Looking down on the face, Troi noted the delicate features framed by tousled 
brown curls.  Tears had escaped from the closed eyes, leaving wet paths 
across her temples and onto the pillow.  Then the lids lifted, and pure blue 
pools fixed on Troi.  The wet depths asked a silent apology for the pain her 
mental cry had caused.  She smiled reassuringly back, instantly forgiving 
her.

The young girl broke eye contact the moment Captain Picard entered.  She 
fixed her eyes on the authoritative figure as he approached her bed gave the 
front of his uniform a brisk tug into place in preparation to speak.  "Hello.  I 
am Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise, and these are 
some of my senior officers.  They found you on the planet's surface and 
brought you on board this ship for medical care."

She was very slow in responding, first drawing in a long, careful breath, and 
then speaking slowly and softly, conserving her energy: "I am Aeia.  I thank 
you...  for saving my life."  Her eyes moved to find Dr. Crusher, who nodded 
in acknowledgement of the gratitude.

"Do you know anything about where you were, or what happened to the 
inhabitants of the planet?" asked Riker.

Aeia's reply was again deliberate and soft: "My people are... gone."  She 
paused for a minute, for her grief had put an edge on her voice.  Again in 
control, she added, "They encased me in crystal to save me because they 
knew something must remain."

"What happened?" asked Troi softly.

Aeia looked straight at Picard before answering.  "The BORG," she replied.  
She waited for a moment and watched the responses of those assembled 
around her with keen observation.  "You are familiar with them."

"Yes," replied Picard grimly.

"Then...  no further explanation... is needed."  Aeia was beginning to show 
signs of the strain this conversation was putting on her.  She closed her eyes 
for several seconds, and then finally said, this time with more breath than 
voice: "But I... will give you one.  First...  I will need to go down to the planet."

"Nonsense," said Dr. Crusher.  "You're not strong enough to sit up."

Aeia closed her eyes again.  "Yes.  Then I will need to send an emissary.  I 
need to find the final records of my people."

Suddenly, Troi spoke up.  "I found a crystal shard in the stone mount you 
were lying on.  About this long."  She gestured with her hands.

Aeia nodded.  "That... would be very useful."

Riker tapped his badge.  "Riker to Engineering."

"LaForge here."

"Geordi, can you bring the crystal shard to Sick Bay?"

"On my way."

Geordi appeared moments later with the shard cradled in his arm.  As he 
approached the group, Aeia's arm lifted from her bed.  The movement was 
very deliberate and controlled, but her entire body shook with the strain of 
the effort.  Geordi placed the crystal gently in her hand, and helped her 
lower her arm slowly back onto the bed.

She closed her eyes.  Her breaths were deep and slow, preparing to speak 
again.  "Yes," she said, "this is... a record... of the... last..."  Her voice failed her.

Picard put his hand on her shoulder.  "Don't speak any more.  We will meet 
again when you are stronger."  He turned and left Sick Bay, followed by the 
others.  Troi lingered for a moment, but Dr. Crusher shooed her away.

The doctor was very surprised to find Aeia still awake when she returned to 
her bedside.  "Sleep," she urged the young girl.

Aeia's grip on the shard tightened.  *First, I must read.*

Dr. Crusher frowned.  She hadn't seen Aeia's lips move.

*I am telepathic,* explained Aeia.  *My body is weak, but my mind is 
stronger.  I will explain more later.  First I must read.*

The mental voice fell silent.  Dr. Crusher glanced at the neural readouts, 
which had settled into low patterns, which she judged to be some sort of 
meditation.  She leaned back against the bed behind her, watching Aeia's 
chest rise and fall more and more slowly.  The girl had left them with more 
questions than answers, but no mysteries were going to be solved today.  
She moved away to check up on other patients.

Behind her, silent tears filled the closed eyes and moistened the brown hair 
against her temples, but this time her grief was silent and went unnoticed.





"Aeia"

PART THREE

"Observations, Counselor," requested Captain Picard as the group entered the 
turbolift.

Troi turned towards him slowly, pausing to gather her thoughts before she 
spoke.  "She has a very strong presence," she said.  "I sense that she is very 
intelligent, and very open.  She has no intention to deceive us.  She is, 
however, suffering from an intense emotional shock.  She was not prepared 
to wake up alone."

"She feels that her people are all dead?" asked Riker.

"She knows it.  When she woke up, she reached out to feel the presence of 
others of her kind - and found nothing.  Everyone she knew and loved died 
years ago.  Adjusting to this fact  is going to be very hard for her."

"I know," responded Picard quietly.  They fell to silence.

----------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Crusher watched Aeia pilot the automated chair down the corridor 
towards the turbolift.  "You handle that chair well," she observed.

"Yes," responded her patient as she maneuvered the chair into the turbolift.  
"I will, however, be glad to be free of it."

The doctor bit her lip as she entered behind Aeia and gave the command for 
their destination.  She let a few moments of quiet pass as she listened to the 
sound of the lift.

"You have little faith," spoke Aeia.  She turned to regard the doctor, whose 
face was trying to deny her thoughts.  "You will not have to replace my leg 
with a prosthetic, Doctor."

"Aeia, the cell damage to your leg is extensive-"

"And the condition is improving-"

"Yes, but not fast enough!"  The doctor turned to face the wall, uncomfortable 
before the direct, candid eyes of her patient.  In the twenty-four hours that 
had passed since Aeia had revived, her healing process had skyrocketed.  
Her physical strength was still very low, but her cells were repairing their 
damage at an amazing rate.  Her right leg remained in very poor condition, 
however, and could seriously endanger the rest of her body if not removed 
soon.  There was simply nothing more the doctor could do.

"Doctor, I am more aware of the condition of my leg than you know.  Like 
you, I am a Healer.  I have been monitoring the process of my recovery and 
I intend to correct the damage in my leg when I am strong enough."

Beverly Crusher shook her head, confused.  "I don't understand."

Aeia's smile lifted the weight of her confusion.  "You will," she said as the 
doors opened.

The girl glided into the conference room and stopped where Captain Picard 
motioned for her to be.  She turned herself so that she faced across the table 
and regarded each face in turn, waiting for Dr. Crusher to be seated.

"It is good to see you out of bed so soon," said the Captain.

"Thank you, she responded.  "I have had very good care."  She looked across 
the table again, measuring the expectation on the faces around her.  "You 
have all come to hear me explain many things.  It is very difficult to know 
where to begin, but I will do my best."  She slowly took in a measured 
breath, holding it for an instant as she closed her eyes.  Then she began.

"My people," she said, "are a very old race.  We are not humanoid, but shape-
shifters.  Lacking such characteristics in our natural form as opposable 
thumbs and agile hands, we did not develop our intelligence in the same way 
as the human race, starting with the physical manipulation of simple tools.  
Ours was a toolless society, so where the human race developed the 
technology of objects, my race developed the technology of the mind.  What 
we could not do without hands, we did with our minds.

"Any race's natural ability to read body language and pick up on subtle 
nonverbal communication was developed in my race into telepathy.  We also 
developed a three-dimensional awareness of our environment that can be 
best described as a combination of sight and tactile sensation.  Instead of 
extrapolating a third dimension based on a two-dimensional image on our 
retinas, we can perceive the third dimension and 'feel' with our minds.  This 
sense provided the basis for telekinesis and other such skills.

"Shape-shifting was the final result of telekinesis, developed to the point 
that, given explicit DNA information on another species, we could translate 
our physical matter into that form.  Telekinesis at the molecular level is 
infinitely complicated, and our brains are specially structured to carry 
through the process at a sub-conscious level.

"With this ability came an incredible opportunity for the acquisition of new 
knowledge; by assuming the form of an alien race, we could join this race 
and learn from it.  Our scholars did this for thousands of years, documenting 
the peoples we found around us.  We amassed a library of knowledge 
greater than most other intelligent races could dream to possess.  And then 
the BORG arrived."

Aeia's face grew dark as she broke off her narration.  She stared out the 
window beside her and studied the deep space beyond.  "The options 
presented by the BORG were assimilation or destruction.  We could not allow 
them access to the knowledge we had accumulated; thousands of races would 
be put in mortal danger.  Yet neither could we resist their threat; we couldn't 
reach them, couldn't reason with them..."  Her delicate hand drew into a fist 
on the conference table as she fought for control of her emotions.  "Their 
minds were inaccessible, too controlled by their unified mind and their 
processors to think, or feel, or know..."

"We understand," spoke Troi softly.

"Yes," said Aeia sharply.  She leveled her eyes on the counselor, who could 
sense the tremendous storm of feeling that was being held back behind the 
blue walls.  Then Aeia broke contact to stare at the table.  "My people, one of 
the oldest races in this galaxy, perished without a fight.  But the BORG never 
found our libraries, and they left my planet empty-handed."  She paused to 
pick up the crystal shard from where it had lain in her lap.  Placing it on the 
table, she continued, "Shortly after the slaughter of my people began, we 
knew our cause was futile.  I was chosen to remain because I was young and 
I was strong.  I had also achieved our highest distinction as a scholar and a 
Healer.  I would carry my people beyond their deaths..."

"Did you agree to this?" asked Picard.

"It was not my place to agree or disagree," Aeia responded sadly.  "This 
crystal is their last message to me.  There were only five left then.  The 
writer...  was my sister.  She was joking...  she said she wished I was there...  
she was wounded...  I would have healed her..."  Aeia's tears flowed across 
her face and dripped onto the crystal in her hands.

Captain Picard hesitated for an awkward moment.  Troi reached over to her 
and placed her hand over Aeia's.  "My apologies for causing you distress," the 
Captain finally said.  "Perhaps we should meet again later."

She shook her head and drew in a quivering breath.  When she spoke, her 
voice was controlled: "I knew when I lay upon the stone in the crystal cave 
what I would find when I awoke.  I should have been prepared."

"No one can be prepared for something like this," said Troi.  "You need time."

Aeia shook her head.  "Time will not change the fact that my people are gone 
and I live still."  She turned towards Troi and directed one of her painfully 
open and direct gazes into the dark eyes.  They did not leave hers.  "When I 
felt you, Counselor, I was half dead, and somehow, I knew I was dying.   I 
had been trapped for too long in that state of near-sleep, imperfectly 
suspended, completely deprived of all sensation, and yet, not at rest.  I think 
I was ready to surrender myself.  I reached out in one last grasp for 
something, and I felt a presence.  I thought maybe you were one of my kind.  
I held on for a little longer."

"Just long enough," said Troi.  She drew a faint smile from her personal 
reserves.  Aeia's eyes softened in response.

"Well, what now?" prompted Geordi.

Aeia glanced at the Captain.  "With your permission, sir, I will stay aboard."

"What are your plans?" asked Picard.

"I will do what I have been chosen to do," she replied.  "I must recover the 
records of my people."

Dr. Crusher frowned.  "I thought you said your people were successful in 
protecting the libraries from the BORG."

"There are indeed vast libraries beneath the surface of my planet, but 
certain key elements are missing.  A lot of vital information and some of the 
crystals needed to decode certain sections of the library were hidden on 
other planets.  Also, there were thousands of my kind doing field research at 
the time of the BORG attack; they left their records behind to return here to 
protect the libraries.  I must find them, and make sure that my race does not 
die forgotten."

"And how will you do that?" Riker asked.

"I will choose a race to be heir of our knowledge."

"Do you have anyone in mind?" said Geordi jokingly.

She leveled a serious look at him that extinguished his smile instantly.  She 
quickly softened, however, and let a smile creep to her lips.  "It is not a thing 
to discuss lightly, Mr. LaForge."  Then she turned back to Picard.  "Sir, I will 
need certain items from the surface.  Then, if your observations here are 
finished, I will not stand in the way of you continuing your mission.  When it 
is convenient for you, you can leave me at a...  Starbase."

"Certainly," responded the Captain crisply.  "Describe and locate the items for 
Mr. Data-"

"Sir, I would like to retrieve them in person."  She paused for a moment and 
noted the awkward look on Picard's face.  "If Mr. Data would agree to 
carrying me."

"That would not cause me any difficulty," said the android.

Picard raised both eyebrows at the idea, but consented.  "Agreed.  Let us 
plan to leave orbit as soon as your things are collected.  Dismissed."

-------------------------------------------------------

They materialized next to the ruins again, Data holding Aeia in his arms.  
Troi stood beside them; she had requested to come and help Aeia say 
goodbye to her homeworld.

The girl gazed out across the hillside in silence for several seconds.  "When I 
saw it last," she said, "the grass had been burnt away."

"It is amazing how Nature heals its wounds," replied the Counselor.  They 
shared the unspoken meaning of the sentence in silence for a moment.

"This used to be a school," explained Aeia, gesturing with one arm towards 
the ruins.  "We don't usually build artificial structures, but those who wished 
to study were very exposed to wind and rain here on the top of the hill.  
Dwellings for those completing their studies were here, so they wouldn't 
have to travel back and forth from the valley."

"Why have the school here, then?" asked the Counselor.

"Because of the caves.  Here, let me show you."  She directed Data to take her 
to the cave entrance.

They walked in silence for a long time, proceeding deeper and deeper within, 
until, finally, they had returned to the chamber where she had lain.  "Please 
stop, Data," Aeia instructed.  She reached outwards towards the shattered 
crystal for a moment, extending her fingers as though to touch the pieces 
still several feet from her reach.  Then she closed her hand and let it drop.  
"Four years," she said quietly.

"Inquiry," spoke Data.

Surprised, Aeia jumped a little in his arms.  He had not said a word since 
they had beamed down.  "Yes, Mr. Data?"

"If your people possessed the technology to put one person in a stasis 
crystal, why not more?"

"One person had less risk of detection," she replied.  "Hidden in these caves, 
the BORG's sensors would not find me.  But a significant disappearance of 
people would have drawn suspicion."

"But weren't you open to the possibility of even accidental discovery in this 
cave?" asked Troi.  "Aside from the rockslide, there was nothing blocking the 
opening."

"There was something concealing the entrance," Aeia replied, "but I suspect 
the same seismic disturbances that caused the rockpile behind us moved the 
block."  She paused for a moment.  "Please continue down this tunnel, Data."

What followed were a series of maze-like turns as they went deeper and 
deeper within.  Finally, Aeia signalled a stop.  Data put her down in front of a 
little alcove.  Using her arms to pull herself in, she half-disappeared in its 
darkness.

She emerged with a sack of some sort and an armful of crystals like the one 
Troi discovered in the stone mount.  "Right where I left them," she said 
quietly.  She gazed down at the crystals, cradling them with care and 
tenderness.  In the shadows caused by Data's hand-held lamp striking the 
side of her face, Troi almost thought she saw a smile work its way across the 
young face.

"What are they?" she asked.

Aeia looked up at her companions.  She WAS smiling.  "They are, Counselor, 
the rough equivalents, I think, of a doctor's bag and an encyclopedia."  And 
she laughed.

------------------------------------------------------

"Come in."

Deanna Troi strode into Captain Picard's Ready Room just in time to see him 
sit down into his chair, the last piece of his emotional armor sliding into 
place a fraction of a second before his eyes met hers.

"Yes, Counselor?"

Troi sat into a chair facing her Captain with a smooth movement, wishing she 
could have been in the room seconds earlier, before the summon of the door 
had put Picard back on his guard.  "I thought you might want to talk," she 
said.  It was one of her more direct approaches, but subtlety rarely worked 
when trying to get through to the Captain.

Still, Picard shrugged it off.  "About what?" he inquired innocently.

"Aeia's story is bringing back certain...  memories.  I thought you might like 
to discuss them."

The Captain did not even react to her statement. He stared out the window, 
regarding the field of stars beyond.

"You might be interested in knowing that it was Aeia who told me this."  
Picard's double-take told her that she had struck some interest.  "She is very 
sensitive, and keenly observant."

"She's young," he finally said.

"Not so young as you might think," said the Counselor.  "She has aged a lot in 
a short amount of time.  I find she has a profound understanding of other 
beings."

"From what she told us, that may simply be in the nature of her kind."

"Nevertheless, you ought to talk to her sometime."  Counselor Troi watched 
the impassive face, searching for a way through to what the Captain was 
feeling at that moment.

"Counselor, if you will excuse me, there are some things to which I must 
attend.  Thank you for stopping by."

Troi stood up, watching Picard as she did.  She moved towards the door.

As if he felt that the weight of her regard required further comment from 
him, he said, "Perhaps I will go speak with our guest, as you suggest."

Good, she thought.  He had never really told her much about the experience 
he kept locked up inside of him, of the family and world he left behind, now 
destroyed, and he, like Aeia, the sole survivor.  Perhaps they could share 
some of the pain of their similar experiences, together.  "You might have 
something to learn from her," she said.

"If what she says about her people is true," replied the Captain, "we all have 
something to learn from her."

And the doors shut behind Troi's departing form.






"Aeia"

PART FOUR

"You're asking the impossible."

Aeia frowned at the doctor who stood in front of her.  She pushed herself 
further upright on the bed, leaning forward with determination.  Her long 
brown curls, tousled by sleep, hung down limply in front of her shoulders, 
but her eyes sparked with vibrant life.  "No, Doctor," she replied.  "I am 
asking you to believe me.  Now is the time to act.  My leg cannot wait; you 
and I both know that."

Dr. Crusher shook her head.  Aeia was right; her leg's condition had worsened 
overnight since her excursion onto the planet.  She should never have let the 
girl get out of bed.  But what was now presented to her was simply beyond 
her ability to imagine.

Aeia's face darkened at the doctor's silence.  "I can't do this alone," she said.  
Dr. Crusher remained silent.  "You're a member of Starfleet," she continued.  
"You're supposed to discover new peoples, new civilizations...  new 
experiences.  New ways of doing things.  Discover this one with me."

The CMO exploded out of her silence.  "You're asking me to believe that you 
can heal your leg with nothing but - but your hands, and a couple of 
radioactive rocks!"  She shook her head.  "My belief doesn't stretch that far.  
Not when I can do nothing with all I have-"

"Stop limiting yourself," Aeia said quietly.  "Do you really think that all this 
intricate technology that surrounds you is the only way to heal?  Stop being 
a doctor."

"I AM a doctor."

Aeia looked levelly into the CMO's eyes.  "No you aren't.  A doctor is someone 
who doctors a wound.  You are a healer.  You heal them.  Listen: I am not 
strong enough yet to do this by myself, or I would go about it quietly and 
not bring you into it.  But I sense your strength, and your potential.  The 
human race is so close to acquiring many of the abilities my people had; take 
this step with me!  Further your evolution as a species.  Or do this just as a 
favor for me, but do it; there is no risk, I assure you.  If we fail, nothing will 
be lost.  Please.  I need your help to heal."

Dr. Crusher sank back to lean against the neighboring bed, her protests 
exhausted.  "What does it entail?"

Aeia picked up the two crystals that had been resting on her lap.  They were 
dense, and her arms, weakened by her worsened condition, quivered under 
their weight.  "These emit a low-level radiation that, focused properly, can 
be a powerful tool for healing.  They will be our guides, and our aids.  Our 
only aids.  Everything else that we need we will find within us."

Dr. Crusher fidgeted nervously.  "What do I do?"

"Come here beside me," directed Aeia.  She lay back as the doctor 
approached the bed.  "Relax.  No, not like that.  Straighten your back, let your 
shoulders fall back.  Open your frame and find your balance."  She paused as 
the CMO concentrated on following her directions.  "Now give me your hand, 
and place the other there - yes.  Now close your eyes, and join me..."  And 
her voice fell silent as their minds met and joined.  They began the healing 
process as one.

--------------------------------------------------------

Ensign Park was preoccupied as she strode into Sick Bay to report for duty.  
Her argument with her husband vanished from her thoughts, however, as 
she rounded the corner to see Dr. Crusher standing beside a patient's bed, 
eyes closed and motionless.  Park stood at a respectful distance for a few 
moments, but when after a few seconds neither patient nor doctor had 
stirred, she began to approach the still pair.

Suddenly, Dr. Crusher's legs buckled and she pitched forward towards the 
bed.  Before Park could reach the bed, the young woman on the bed had 
stopped the CMO from falling.  One hand had caught Dr. Crusher's forearm 
and held it up off the bed with an iron grip, though the arm shook violently 
from the effort.  Ensign Park hooked one arm around her superior's waist, 
lifting her weight and supporting her away from the bed.

The red-haired doctor stirred as Park set her down on a chair.  "Are you all 
right, Dr. Crusher?" asked the ensign.

"Yes," came the faint reply.  Dr. Crusher's cheeks slowly began to recover 
their color as she pressed her forehead into one hand.  "What is Aeia's 
condition?"

Park moved over to the bed and examined the readouts.  Picking up an 
instrument from a nearby shelf, she moved it over the still patient.  Her 
movements gravitated to the right leg, and, after checking the results, she 
scanned it again.  Shaking her head in disbelief, she turned to her superior.  
"She's asleep," she said, "and showing very severe signs of fatigue.  Doctor, 
according to these scans, the cell damage in her right leg has been corrected."

Dr. Crusher nodded.  She had known this, she had been part of it, but she 
wanted to hear the words, to know that it was really true.  "I know," she 
said.

-----------------------------------------------------------

"Captain, a vessel is approaching this system from the Neutral Zone."

"Romulan?" queried Picard.

Data was silent for a moment as his fingertips tapped his console.  
"Affirmative."

Riker frowned.  "Why would a Romulan ship leave the Neutral Zone 
uncloaked?"

"Time to arrival, Mr. Data?"

"Two minutes, forty-two seconds, Captain."

"We will know soon, Number One," Picard said in response to Riker's 
question.  "Standby for Yellow Alert," he commanded.

---------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Crusher stood over Aeia's sleeping form, brushing a strand of the girl's 
long hair from her face.  Her sleep was so deep, and her form so still and 
colorless, she bore a semblance to death, and yet Beverly Crusher had never 
been so keenly aware of the life within a patient.  The young woman before 
her, almost exactly her son's age, had a fierce grip on life and bristled with 
an incredible strength.  The doctor was in awe.

She moved away from the bed after a time, heading out of Sick Bay and 
towards the turbolift.  Captain Picard had requested an update on any 
change in Aeia's condition, and she decided she would deliver this one in 
person.  She wondered as the turbolift doors closed if she would be able to 
describe what she had just experienced to someone even as close to her as 
Jean-Luc.

---------------------------------------------------------

"We are in hailing range, sir," reported Data.

"Open a channel," Picard commanded.

"Channel open," reported the deep voice of Worf.

"Romulan Vessel, this is Captain Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise.  
I demand an explanation for your presence in Federation space."

"They are responding," said Worf.

"On screen."

A Romulan commander appeared on the viewscreen, gazing with perfect, 
impenetrable composure at the bridge crew of the Enterprise.  "I beg to 
differ with you, Picard.  This is not Federation space."

Picard's sarcasm belied the fact he did not take the Romulan commander's 
statement seriously.  "And from what data do you draw this conclusion, 
Commander?"

"On the truth," the Romulan replied.

Picard's patience with the joke ended abruptly.  "The treaty between our 
peoples clearly-"

"Did not involve the Katyans," the Romulan finished for him.  He signalled to 
his left, and a young man moved into view on the screen.  His thick reddish-
brown skin and barrel-like form was in distinct contrast to the Romulans 
around him.  "Dhyle here has informed me that his kind have populated this 
region for over four hundred years, long before the Federation claimed it as 
its own."

Picard looked skeptical.  "Starfleet found no evidence of previous settlement 
in any of these systems."

"We did not wish to be found," spat the man now identified as Dhyle.  Thick 
hairs across his lower neck bristled with a hint of nervousness.  "Besides, 
Starfleet has not bothered to fully explore any of these systems until now."

"Dhyle has decided to join his people with the Empire," said the Romulan 
coolly.  "Therefore, Picard, it would appear that it is you, and not I, that is 
trespassing."  He waited for a moment for the implication of his words to 
register with the Enterprise's captain and crew, and then continued, "I am 
here to claim what rightly belongs to the Empire, Picard.  Leave this system 
now or be destroyed."

"Wait," interjected the Captain.  "We have discovered a life form who claims 
her people inhabited this planet about which we orbit.  I do not believe she 
is of your people, Dhyle."

The Katyan flinched momentarily.  "Impossible," he said firmly.  "The 
Petryans are dead; I have seen their ruins myself.  They have all gone from 
this life."

"Show us this...  Petryan," said the Romulan commander.

Dr. Crusher's voice spoke quietly at Picard's side.  "Jean-Luc, she's nearly 
unconscious with exhaustion."

He nodded to the CMO and turned to speak to the viewscreen.  "That is 
unfortunately impossible," he began.

The Romulan commander cut him off with a wave of his arm. "Unfortunate 
indeed, human.  You have two minutes to leave what is now Romulan space."  
The transmission ended abruptly, replacing the Romulan's image with that of 
his vessel.

"Captain," spoke Worf from his station, "the Romulan vessel is not a match 
for the Enterprise's weaponry or her mobility.  They do not pose us a threat."

"Counselor?" queried the Captain.

"I sense deceit," answered Troi, "but I am not sure of what kind.  I know that 
he is quite confident that he will succeed in his mission.  I also don't think he 
intends to allow us to leave alive."

"How does he expect to stop us if he's outgunned and outmatched?" asked 
Riker.  Troi had nothing to offer in response.

"What about the Katyan?" Picard asked of Troi.

"I sense mostly nervousness from him," she responded.  "He's young and 
unsure of himself.  But he is not deceiving us."

The bridge fell to silence for a few seconds while Picard contemplated the 
weight of their situation.

"Open a channel to the Romulan vessel," spoke an unexpected voice out of 
this silence.  All turned around to see Aeia standing near the turbolift, 
leaning heavily on the railing.  "Do it," she commanded, her voice deep and 
authoritative.  She glared across the upper level of the bridge at Worf, who 
stood motionless at his station, meeting her eyes with his own in a fierce 
white stare from within his dark face.  She turned her gaze on Picard, whose 
face blazed in indignation.

"What is the meaning of this??  You are not part of this crew, and you have 
no authority to be on my bridge!"

"Your crew is in grave danger," she responded firmly.  "If you do not allow 
me to act, your lives will end in minutes.  My planet has already seen 
enough deaths.  I will not allow these to occur, not when I can save them."

"That ship," said Picard, pointing to the image on the viewscreen, "does not 
mean we are in grave danger."

"The five unseen warships surrounding it, however, mean EXACTLY that," 
countered Aeia.

"There are no indications of cloaked warships in the area," said Data from his 
console.

"Nevertheless, they are there," said Aeia.  "Their technology cannot hide their 
presences from me.  Katyans have very loud minds."  A half-smile crossed 
her face for an instant, giving the impression that her statement, however 
serious, possessed recognizable humor.

Picard was not amused.  He looked straight and full into the dark blue 
depths and searched them.  They offered no resistance to his probing, but 
met him with every ounce of his strength and more.  He saw within an 
admirable force and an inner will that could not be denied.  "Make it so," he 
commanded Worf.

"Channel open," boomed the voice of the Klingon.

"Romulan vessel," spoke Aeia in a loud, full voice.  She stood up slowly from 
the railing, shifting her weight with caution onto both legs.  "This is Aeia, an 
inhabitant of the planet below.  You are in our space."

The viewscreen switched to show Dhyle sitting before it, the Romulan 
commander beside him, frowning.  "Your claim is false," asserted the Katyan.

"Let me prove my case in person," she responded.  "Allow me to beam over 
to your ship."

The Romulan commander started in surprise, but the Katyan held back his 
response by a quickly raised hand.  "Agreed.  Beam over in one minute."  The 
transmission ended.

The bridge of the Enterprise stood in dumbfounded silence.

Picard was the first to recover from his shock.  His preparatory breath drew 
all attention on the bridge to him, and all expected some sort of reprimand.  
Surprising them all, he merely said quietly, "I hope you know what you're 
doing."

Aeia leaned once more upon the railing, a pained look crossing her face.  "So 
do I," she replied.



"Aeia"

PART FIVE

Troi supported Aeia's weight with her arm around the slender waist.  They 
stood in silence as the turbolift descended.

"What are you going to do?" she asked finally.

Aeia took a deep breath and regarded the panels in front of her.  "Dhyle is a 
young man," she answered at last.  "He is a good leader, but an inexperienced 
one.  The Romulans must have bought his loyalty, perhaps with this improve 
cloaking technology.  But his alliance to their Empire is superficial.  An 
alliance that is formed weakly can be broken easily."  The door opened and 
they moved out together, striding towards the transporter room.  Aeia added 
quietly: "I hope."

Standing at his console, O'Brien shook his head in disbelief as Aeia took her 
place on the pad.  "I can't believe they're going to drop their shields to allow 
you to get over."

"They will," Aeia responded firmly.  "Dhyle's curiosity will ensure my safety 
and your safety until I am aboard their ship and can prove to him that I am 
who I say I am."

"And then what?" asked Troi from where she stood beside O'Brien.

"Then the Romulans will try to kill me," Aeia responded, her voice dark and 
serious.  "What happens then will depend on Dhyle," she added as she began 
to fade in the transporter beam.

Troi started to protest, but knew it was too late.  She sent all of her hopes 
away with the disappearing figure.

------------------------------------------------------

When Aeia materialized, five Romulan phasers were levelled at her.  It was 
as she had expected.

Dhyle stood before her.  Despite the thick build of his kind, he was tall.  His 
brown mane of coarse hair would be considered handsome by one of his 
kind, and his amber eyes could be very romantic in the right situation.  This 
was not one of them.

"Hello, Dhyle," she said.

"Impostor," he hissed.  "The Petryans never looked like you, so pale and thin!  
So ugly!"

Her voice was low and steady.  "You know as I know that my kind are not 
limited by form, Dhyle.  I am living amongst humans; I have assumed their 
appearance.  I could also be a Katryan, like my people were at Kjala."

"What do YOU know of Kjala?" he stormed.

Aeia took silent notice of the quickness of his answer.  "I was there," she 
said.  Were you? she wondered silently.

Dhyle considered this for a long time.  He turned to the armed Romulans and 
motioned for them to leave.  When they hesitated, he hissed, "She is a lone 
woman, and unarmed.  I do not need five of you to help me control her."  
They left reluctantly, a door hissing to a close behind their departing forms.

"Prove it," he commanded.

She thought quickly.  Kjala was an experience they both shared, and his 
emotions on the subject ran deep.  She chose that avenue, if not to lead to 
her proof, then at least to establish some common ground.  "What village was 
yours?"

He hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Yedras."

Aeia nodded, the only outward sign she showed of the sudden surge of hope 
she felt.  She had been at Yedras.  "Two hundred thirty-five dead," she said 
quietly.  She watched his reddish face as minute movements showed the 
emotions moving beneath the surface.  She opened her mind to his thoughts 
and saw the images flashing past, glimpses of pain, moments of suffering, a 
mental photo album of the ravages of the tragedy.  She had to strain to 
suppress her own memories; she had been young, and the deaths had carved 
themselves into her.  For every life that she had saved, there were ten she 
had lost.

Suddenly, one image drew her attention: a woman's face.  She remembered 
that face.  "There was a woman," she began tremulously, "that gave birth too 
early.  Her infant lived only a few moments; there was nothing I could do-"  
Aeia's voice choked.  She forced herself to go on.  "She never got to see his 
face, however; she was gone before he.  Her name... was Khali."

A shadow grew across Dhyle's face.  "My sister."

"Yes."

Without warning, the Katryan exploded from his sorrow and grabbed Aeia 
by both arms.  "You're lying!" he cried.  "You're using this information to get 
through to me; it won't work.  I was on the surface of this planet; I saw the 
abandoned homes.  This planet is empty."

"It is empty," she agreed, "except for me.  I am the one survivor of my 
people."  She searched her memory for a moment, and then continued, "She 
was survived by a son, a young boy.  He watched her die...  We kept him 
with us for a time before leaving the village and giving him to someone who 
promised to care for him."  She remembered the small, dirty hands that had 
clenched in the folds of her robe.  She saw the tear stains across the silent 
face, saw them dry and crust in the dirt, closing the boy in silence.  He could 
have been her own little brother.

Dhyle relaxed his grip a little.  "I should have been there," he said 
sorrowfully.  "I could have helped her, protected her.  She didn't have to 
die."

"But her child lived.  He should be" - she some quick figuring in her head - 
"twelve years old now."

"No!" he cried, resuming his grip so tightly that it hurt her.  His face was a 
livid display of hatred, and a moment of fear grabbed her; she pulled away 
with all of her strength, and in the struggle the sleeve of her shirt ripped in 
his grip.  "He's dead now, the F'korins, they killed him.  Don't you see, that's 
why we need the new cloaking devices.  We have to defeat them before 
more Katryans die...."  He pulled away from her, but his clenched fists had 
not released her sleeves yet, and he pulled the tear open to expose her left 
arm.  Suddenly, he stopped.

She glanced down at her arm.  Entwining blue and green bands, the symbol 
of her rank and achievements, decorated the skin of her forearm.  A jagged 
pink mark cut across the bands, visible to close scrutiny.  The bands and the 
scar showed clearly in the light of the room.

"Those marks," Dhyle said.  "What do they mean?"

"The bands are the marks of my people, showing my rank and what I have 
achieved."

"And the scar?"

"A souvenir from Kjala."   She regarded the shiny pink flesh of the scar and a 
memory flashed before her eyes.  She saw herself ripping the bottom of her 
robe and tying the cloth about her arm in a vain attempt to keep blood in 
and dirt out.  She hadn't had time to tend to her own wounds.  The scar was 
testimony to the fact that she had neglected herself until it was too late to 
heal her arm cleanly.

Different emotions wrestled for control of Dhyle's face.  Finally, he 
surrendered to that of defeat, sinking to his knees before Aeia.  "You have 
not deceived me.  Little Fedy never spoke again after Kjala, after his 
mother's death."  He drew in a shuddering breath, not looking at Aeia.  His 
eyes focused on some point beyond her in the room, but what he saw was a 
memory and not what was before him.  "He drew pictures instead of talking.  
Some of them were lovely, some...  hideous.  His own perceptions of his life, 
and Kjala in the middle of it.  But always there was a person, a person he 
never named, who figured in the pictures.  A person with blue and green 
bands on her arm, crossed by a line of red."  His eyes, penitent, raised to 
meet hers.  "You."

Aeia was silent.  What happened next rested in the Katryan's hands.

"I am at your command, Petryan," he said humbly.

-----------------------------------------------------------

"Captain, there are five warships uncloaking in this area," said Data.

"Raise shields, and go to Red Alert."

"Sir," interjected Worf with surprise, "the warships are training their 
weapons on the Romulan vessel."

"Transporter Room to Bridge."

"Yes, O'Brien?" asked the Captain.

"I have Aeia back on board, Captain," the engineer responded.  After a brief 
pause, he added, "I think she needs medical assistance."

Picard did not have the chance to order Dr. Crusher to the Transporter Room 
before the CMO disappeared into the turbolift.

"Romulan vessel retreating from Federation space," reported Worf.

A wave of relief swept over the bridge.  The tension relaxed as people sighed 
and murmured in relief and surprise.

Worf spoke again: "One of the Katryan vessels is hailing us sir."

"Open a channel," commanded Picard.

"Channel open, sir."

"On screen."  Picard stood and tugged at the front of his uniform as the 
sturdy form of Dhyle once more commanded the bridge's viewscreen.  This 
time, however, he was surrounded by males and females of his own kind.

"The Petryan is safely aboard your vessel?" he asked curtly.

"Yes," answered Picard.  "I-"

The Katryan stopped the Federation captain with a wave of his hand.  
"Another time, human."  His image disappeared and black space once more 
filled the screen.  The five warships turned about and moved away, 
disappearing into the blackness.

There was an awkward moment of silence on the bridge.  Picard snapped 
about suddenly , barking a few orders to the helmsman.  This broke the 
spell, and everyone turned back to their posts in a bustle of nervous activity.  
Then he strode towards the turbolift, muttering about checking on Aeia's 
condition, and the bridge settled into routine operation.

On a fast-moving ship that was rapidly putting space between itself and the 
Enterprise, the young Katryan leader stood motionless on his bridge, weeping 
silently for the wound he had not yet given himself time to heal.  On the 
Enterprise, his tears were echoed across the face of a young woman who 
shared his pain, knowing that some wounds hurt deeper than the one that 
marked her arm.

--------------------------------------------------------

Deanna Troi entered the holodeck slowly, taking in the elaborate program 
that it was running.  The air was thick with a woodsy smell; the ground 
beneath her alternated between soft, sweet-smelling earth and dampened 
leaves.  A sun that was nearly set filtered goldness at a low angle through 
the wide green leaves that rustled gently in the warm breeze.  A small brook 
wound its way between earthen banks and bumped up against some rocks, 
forming a small pool before spilling over in a miniature waterfall.  A feature 
by the pool caught her by surprise; a honey-brown creature bent its head to 
the clear water and drank.  It was a unicorn, or, at least, Troi supposed it to 
be one.  Its features were equine, though by far no Earth equine had ever 
achieved the slender grace that stood here by the pool.  The horn that rose 
from its forehead was not curved but straight, faceted, and crystalline.  It 
filtered the slanted light of the setting sun, sending prisms onto the leaves 
on the ground near the bank.

Troi wondered about the unicorn; she had thought Aeia had been working on 
a program to accurately simulate her homeworld.  What place did an ancient 
Earth mythical creature have here?  "Aeia?" she called into the air, curious.  
She peered into the darkness beyond the stream, trying to see beyond the 
trees and locate Aeia.  There was no response.  The unicorn stopped drinking 
and raised its head slowly.  Dark eyes focused themselves in Troi's direction.

"Computer," commanded the Counselor.  "Please give Aeia's location with 
respect to my own."

"Aeia is not in the holodeck," responded the computer.

Troi frowned.  Geordi, who had been working most of the day on a panel just 
outside the door to this holodeck, had seen Aeia go in.  Besides, why would 
she have left the program running?  "Locate Aeia."

"Aeia is not on the Enterprise."

Troi was not prepared for that.  She gasped.

The unicorn left the side of the pool and began walking towards her with an 
easy gait.  Smooth muscles rippled with her movement under the silken 
hide.  "Computer," commanded Troi, "freeze program."

The scene instantly took on the unnatural freeze of a three-dimensional 
photograph.  The brook silenced, halted in its flow over the rocks.  The 
leaves were motionless, suddenly looking as brittle and hard as glass.  The 
breeze held itself in perfect stillness.

And the unicorn continued to advance.

*The ship's computer is not programmed to follow a lifeform whose body 
signature changes,* explained Aeia as she came to a stop before the 
Counselor.  The dark eyes, visibly blue in the slanted late-late-afternoon 
light that shone into them from the holodeck-generated sun, studied Troi's 
face with an intensity that was at once alarming and familiarly Aeia.  She 
blew a puff of air through her nose in a gesture distinctly similar to a laugh, 
and added, *My people have always been a little misunderstood, Deanna.  
The Katryans see us as saviors, and call us Petryans.  Other races have called 
us other things.  Some have labelled us as gods.  The human race labelled us 
'unicorns,' and made us magical.  Each kind has its own way of dealing with 
something it doesn't entirely understand.*  Her image blurred as was 
replaced by her human form, crouching naked in the wet leaves.  
"Computer," she spoke aloud as she rose to her two human feet, "resume 
program."

The brook stirred again into its gentle water-sounds.  Leaves halted in gentle 
movements completed them, and "reality" seemed restored to the scene.

Aeia smiled warmly at the Counselor.  Her long hair afforded her some, but 
not much, modesty across her otherwise bare front.  She seemed blissfully 
unaware of her nudity, turning to stride with confidence but no hurry 
towards where she had left her clothes.  She lifted up her oversized tunic, 
shrugging it over her slim form.

Troi summoned up some small talk to fill in the time Aeia would need to 
dress.  "I'm glad to see you're feeling well," she began.

Aeia's laughter trickled out through the sleeves of her garment before her 
head emerged from the top.  "You're trying too hard to be casual about my 
shape-changing," she said, pulling from her face the strands of hair that had 
been mussed by pulling her clothes down over her head.  "But I forgive you.  
Yes, I am feeling much stronger, thank you."

Troi settled herself on a large rock, staring off into the sunset which was now 
beginning.  "What are your plans now?" she queried.

Aeia settled into a patch of earth by Troi's feet, fixing her eyes on the same 
spectacle that now displayed itself in the 'distance.'  "We reach Starbase in 
one week," she answered.  "I have been requested to participate in the talks 
between the Federation and the Katryans in a month.  I will be assisting a 
Federation arbitrator to settle the differences between the Katryans and the 
F'korins."

"Do you think the Katryans will agree to join with the Federation?"

"They have no choice," Aeia replied matter-of-factly.  "They have made 
dangerous and powerful enemies of the Romulan Empire on their border."

"And then what?" prompted the Counselor.

Aeia was silent for some time.  "Starfleet," she said quietly.  Troi's response 
was a quick look of surprise, to which she replied, "I was the youngest 
Healer ever to achieve the distinctions I reached.  I am confident of my 
abilities; I can become a student again, and enter your Academy, and prove 
myself again."

"But why Starfleet?"

"I need to find those crystals.  Only the range and variable territory of a 
Starfleet vessel would be sufficient to aid me in my search."  Her face fell, 
obscuring her expression in the growing shadows.  "Besides, my people are 
gone, my world is gone.  My place is now in yours."  Her words were 
strained, harsh, but strong.

"You feel a need to belong to your new world," observed the Betazoid.

Aeia's face turned one of her piercing stares up at Troi.  "Wouldn't you, 
Counselor?"

Troi instantly regretted her instinctive counseling of the girl.  Aeia was not 
someone who needed to be told what she felt.  "Please.  I told you to call me 
Deanna."

Aeia's face softened.  She appreciated the feeling of equality expressed in the 
statement.  "We were many," she said gently.  There was grief in that simple 
sentence; she mourned for the lost presences that she had once never been 
without.  "Now I am one."  She silently remembered telling Dhyle: I am the 
one survivor of my people.

"No," said the Betazoid in the growing dusk.  Her hand found Aeia's and 
closed it in a firm grip.  "We are two."




"Aeia"

EPILOGUE

The day was sunny, but cool.  The sky was bright enough to be almost 
blinding, reflecting in sharp colors from the bare rock formations that rose 
from the valley in the distance.  Shielding his eyes with one hand, Captain 
Jean-Luc Picard led his horse away from the stables.  He had picked a well-
muscled bay that moved in quick, uneven steps beside him.  Slender, dark 
ears swiveled around to intercept any sound or movement; this one was 
alert and ready to go.  The men who ran the stable had recommended him 
for expert riders only.

Following closely behind her captain, Deanna Troi led a stately dappled-gray 
gelding.  He was tall and commanded a considerable amount of mass, but he 
exhibited none of nervous excitement of the Captain's mount.  He moved his 
body forward with a smooth, gentle stride and exhibited an air of calm 
disinterest.

Will Riker and Geordi LaForge accompanied her with their mounts.  Geordi 
had been given a petite white Arab mare with a finely chiseled face, and 
Riker led a startlingly red chestnut.  The mare was following along quietly, 
but the chestnut gelding was reluctant, flicking his ears about and frequently 
pinning them back.

Captain Picard swung up into his saddle with practiced ease, and the others 
took this as a cue to follow suit.  Riker, however, was unsuccessful.  His 
gelding pinned his ears flat back and threatened to bite him every time he 
stepped closer.

"He doesn't like you," said a voice from the side.  All eyes turned to see Aeia 
standing slightly away from the group.

"I can see that," muttered Riker and he abandoned his efforts to get into the 
saddle.

Aeia walked to the chestnut's head.  She leaned over the red muzzle and 
blew a breath of air over it.  The gelding's nostrils stretched wide to collect 
the scent.  She stroked the velvet nose affectionately.

"I don't see how you can do that," muttered the commander.  "He won't let 
me get anywhere near him."

"He doesn't like men," she explained.  "He prefers the way women smell."

"Perhaps we could trade," offered Deanna.  She swung down off the gray and 
offered the reins to Riker.  Shrugging, the commander finally accepted them 
and mounted the gray, who exhibited no objection, nor even interest, in the 
change of riders.

Troi approached the chestnut, who flared his nostrils again as she grew near.  
Taking the cue from Aeia, she blew a puff of warm breath across his nose, 
and then took the reins.  The gelding seemed to instantly relax, and allowed 
her to get on without problem.  Observing from the back of the gray, Riker 
shrugged in exasperation.

"Perhaps you would like to join us," Troi offered to Aeia.

The younger woman concentrated her gaze on the large equine head in her 
hands.  She twisted the bright forelock absent-mindedly, frowning.  "No, I 
don't think so."

"Oh, I insist," said the captain.  "It's a marvelous day for it."

Aeia regarded the hills for a instant in silence.  "Yes," she murmured.  "Okay," 
she said, turning towards the group.  "I'll come along, but I won't ride."

"I don't think that would be wise," cautioned Geordi.  "These horses are 
pretty fast.  You wouldn't be able to keep up."

"Oh no?"  A devilish glint crept into Aeia's eyes.  "Would you like to test 
that?"

"What are you suggesting?" asked Riker.

"A race," she responded.

Picard laughed.  "Certainly you are not serious!"

Aeia lifted the strap of her satchel over her head and offered it to Troi.  
"Could you carry this for me?"

Accepting the satchel, the Betazoid caught Aeia's eyes for a moment and 
suddenly realized what she intended to do.  She shared a mischievous smile 
with her younger friend before telling her captain, "She is very serious, 
Captain."

"In fact, I'll give you a head start."  Aeia dropped into a crouch, readying 
herself to start running.  "We'll race to that tree over there before the ledge.  
Ready, GO!"

Picard's horse recognized the command before he did, and the captain nearly 
lost his balance from being left behind.  He regained it swiftly, though, and 
leaned over the bay's neck to enjoy the thrill of the speed.  He could hear the 
others right behind him, thundering hooves right at their heels. He centered 
his weight and brought his face close to the muscled neck, speaking 
encouragement that he knew only his mount would hear.

Suddenly, he was passed.  A brown blur stretched out in front of him, 
passing him, putting space between them with ease.  He was at first shocked 
to see that the horse was riderless, and then gasped at a bigger surprise: 
when the creature turned its head to glance at those behind it, he could see 
centered in its forehead a straight crystalline horn.

Then he heard Aeia's mental laugh in his head.

The tree by the ledge was attained, and everyone drew up their horses.  
Everyone except Aeia, who went thundering past.  She leapt straight off the 
edge and disappeared from sight.

Four hearts missed a beat.  Suddenly, a great brown bird appeared from 
within the ravine, soaring up on an updraft of air.  It circled above their 
heads, and from where they were, they could see the blue and green 
feathers intermingling with the brown of her left wing.

*I am one,* spoke Aeia's mental voice; *I am many.  And I am not alone.*




thank you.

--lisa