Date: Fri, 17 Nov 1995 14:56:25 -0600 Reply-To: Julia Kosatka Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Julia Kosatka Subject: In the Dark, 16/21 (REPOST) ADULT Her eyes widened. Worf had used a seldom-used Klingon appellation to preface Duncan's name. Loosely translated it meant weapons-master, but had somewhat of the feel of the Earth term Sensei to it. She was more than a bit startled to hear Worf accord such a title to Duncan. "Worf, forgive me friend, I... have company and I'm afraid I overslept. Give me a few minutes and I'll join you on the holodeck." Guinan grinned, clearly visualizing the look on Worf's face. He would feign indifference, while simultaneously being curious who Duncan was with, and disdainful of the loose mating practices of humans. She'd seen him wear that expression before, usually around Will Riker. "I see. I will wait, as you wish." "Thank you." She heard the door close again, and Duncan walked back into the bedroom, yawning as he ran his fingers through his hair. Yawn completed, his expression turned rueful. "I'm sorry, I'd forgotten I was to meet him this morning for our workout." He grinned. "You drove all thought right out of my mind." She laughed. "You silver-tongued devil, you! Are you sure you're Scottish, not Irish?" He didn't miss her meaning, and grinned. "I'm sure. Stay if you like. I'll be back in an hour or so." Something began to niggle at her, some dark current of perception eddying just out of sight. She put out her hand. "Duncan, don't go." He paused as he pulled on the padded tunic he wore to spar in, and looked back at her. "Is something wrong?" She tried to focus on the vague unease, and couldn't make it come clearer. Whatever it was, it didn't seem all that serious. It was nothing like the foreboding she had when real danger threatened. Finally she shook her head. "No, nothing really. Just a... feeling." "Don't worry about me. I'm a big boy." She grinned. "I noticed." He laughed and took his katana from its place on the shelf. "Later." She nodded and watched him leave, wondering what was bothering her. No doubt she'd find out in due time. She settled back into the warm hollow where he'd been, and let her eyes drift closed again. Moments later she opened them again with a sigh. The unpleasantness that was hovering on the edge of her perception her wasn't going to let her get back to sleep, she could tell that already, so she might as well get up. She made use of the bathroom, then checked the time, and made a face. It was well past the time of her usual breakfast with Deanna. She slipped into her caftan and sat down at the comunit. "Personal message, Guinan to Deanna Troi, is she available?" "One moment," the machine responded. Seconds later the screen filled with Deanna's face. She was smiling. No, she was grinning, her eyes alight with mischievous humor. "Good morning, Guinan. Did you have a nice night?" "As a matter of fact, I did, but you knew that already." "Not really, though I suspected. I was a little worried when you didn't meet me, but a quick check on your whereabouts told me I didn't need to fret. And I'll have you know that though I was tempted, I refrained from snooping further." "Good girl, I'm proud of you for not succumbing to those Lwaxana impulses." Deanna laughed. "Well, since you missed breakfast, how about lunch? I don't have any appointments after eleven, and I want to hear all about it!" Guinan feigned amazement. "Deanna Troi! I had no idea you were such a voyeur!" "Of course you did! All Betazoids are voyeurs, it's genetic. How about it?" "Oh, all right, but only if you promise not to pry." "Who, me? Pry?" Deanna batted her eyelashes innocently. "Never." "All right then, I'll see you in--" she stopped suddenly, an overwhelming feeling of shock, pain, and darkness closing around her like a suffocating curtain. A presence she'd just begun to get used to vanished soundlessly from her mind, as if someone had flipped a switch. She heard Deanna's moan, and knew she'd felt it too. "Duncan!" she gasped, on her feet and running without even taking the time to close the connection on the comunit. In the corridor she stopped suddenly, confused. Which holodeck had he been going to? He hadn't said, and he wasn't wearing a locator so the computer wouldn't be able to find him easily. Worf was a different matter. She turned to the monitor panel on the wall. "Computer, locate Lieutenant Worf." "Lieutenant Worf is in sickbay." Ice seemed to form inside her, but she shook it off and began to run, her bare feet soundless on the carpeted floor. People looked at her oddly as she passed them, clearly taken aback. She didn't care. She only hoped that what she had sensed was not what she first thought. Worf's presence in sickbay seemed to indicate the worst, though. Duncan had confided his fears that someone had deliberately sabotaged his ship. Could that someone be aboard the Enterprise? Could they have gotten to him? Ahead she saw the turbolift doors closing, and called out "Hold!". The door reversed, opening, and she threw herself into the car, startling the three crewmen already there. "Emergency override, sickbay!" she panted, knowing that would prioritize her request to the top. The lift doors slid shut and she watched the indicator light dropping as they began to move. "Are you hurt? Can I help?" one of the three asked. She turned, and recognizing the man as one she had spoken to many times in Ten-Forward, she shook her head. "No, Sam, it's not me, I'm just... needed." He looked relieved. Before he said anything else, the doors opened and she dashed out, turned the corner, and flung herself toward the sickbay doors. She stopped short, staring, taking in the frantic activity around one of the biobeds. "Get those stasis fields working, Alyssa!" Crusher was saying, to her nurse. "Damn it, these readings don't make any sense. Worf, get out of my way! T'mer, we're we're going to have to do a replacement, we'll want to use the Tarvi-2028, it's the only one we've got that will handle someone this size." Worf turned and moved away, and Guinan gasped, seeing him covered with blood. So much... and human blood, that brilliant crimson, not the chalky-pink of Klingon blood. His face was a mask of suffering. He stood watching for a moment, then his fists clenched, and he threw back his head and let loose with the blood-curdling howl of a Klingon warning heaven that a newly-killed warrior was about to enter. In the silence that followed Worf's cry, everyone seemed momentarily stunned into inactivity. She had to know. Determinedly, she strode forward into the gap Worf had left around the biobed. Duncan lay there, still, white, and utterly lax. His tunic had been sliced open down the front, and was as soaked with blood as Worf. His broad chest was holed by a dreadful wound, it was clear that the stroke had pierced his heart. For a moment she wanted to scream, to cry, to demand justice from whatever deity seemed set on ruining any chance at happiness for either of them, then just as suddenly, calm settled around her. What had Duncan said? Decapitation could kill him, as could certain types of energy weapon. Nothing else. No matter what it looked like, he was not dead. Not really. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up into Beverly Crusher's anguished blue gaze. "Guinan, I'm so sorry. I'm doing everything I can, we've got him in stasis so he won't deteriorate, and we're going to replace his heart, we have a mechanical on hand that should work, at least until he can be fitted properly with the correct one, or a cloned replacement." Guinan took a deep breath, and shook her head. "No, Beverly. Take the stasis fields off. He'll be fine." Bev's eyes widened, and Guinan sensed her dismay quite clearly. "You don't understand, Guinan. He's gone, his heart was damaged beyond repair. Replacement is the only thing that will save him now." Guinan reached out and took Beverly's hands in hers. "I know he's gone, Beverly. I felt it happen. But trust me, I know what I'm saying, and I'm not crazy. It's not necessary." "It is if I'm going to save his life!" "You don't need to save his life, Bev. He would not want you to do this." The doctor drew back as if Guinan had struck her. "Not you too! I checked out that Christian Science line he fed me. They support two colony worlds, and neither has any record of a member named Duncan MacLeod." Guinan stared at her, puzzled. She vaguely remembered something about a religious group called Christian Scientists from her days as a student on 20th century Earth, but what did they have to do with Duncan? "Beverly, I have no idea what you're talking about, but I do know that Duncan would not want any kind of intervention. Have you checked for a Med-alert?" "I..." Beverly suddenly looked less sure of herself. "No, I haven't." "Do it." The doctor turned back toward Duncan's still form, and made an adjustment on her tricorder, then scanned him. A moment later she turned to Guinan, her expression stunned. "You're right. He has a `do not resuscitate' order encoded on a biochip implanted in his forearm. I can't believe this! It's insane! Damn it, Guinan, I can save him if you'll let me!" Guinan shook her head. "I can't, Beverly. It will be all right, trust me. Have I ever lied to you? Turn off the stasis units." Beverly started toward the biobed, but was brought up short by a hail on the comm. "Laforge to Crusher." With a sigh, she tapped her badge. "Crusher here, what is it Geordi? I have an emergency situation here!" "I'm sorry, doctor, but I'm registering an unusual power drain which seems to be originating in sickbay." She looked around, her expression blank. "Here? But there's nothing..." her eyes narrowed, and she lifted her tricorder again. "It's the stasis units. They're running at four times normal power levels! No wonder the readings were so odd! But that doesn't make sense... it's like they're fighting something." Guinan put her hand on the doctor's arm, drawing her attention once more. "Beverly, they are. Turn them off." They stood for a moment, gazes locked, then Beverly nodded, and reached over and switched them off. "What the...? The power drain just stopped." Laforge's voice sounded puzzled. Beverly looked equally so. Guinan went over to the bed and took Duncan's hand, feeling only emptiness where normally he was so full of life. It was hard not to weep at that, to have faith that what he'd told her was the truth. But it had to be. Behind her the sickbay doors opened, and she sensed Deanna and Jean-Luc's familiar presences as they entered the room. She smiled a little ruefully, knowing that Duncan was going to be unhappy about having a reception committee around right now. "What's going on here, Mr. Worf? Why did you put out a detention order on yourself?" "Captain, I have killed nuHpIn'a' MacLeod. I must be detained." "What?" Picard and Troi spoke almost as one, each one equally stunned. Keeping Duncan's hand in hers, she turned so that she could see the others, and listen to Worf's explanation, though she knew what had happened. "We were sparring, and I was careless. In so doing, I cost a warrior's life. I must be punished." A sudden change pulled Guinan's attention back to Duncan, as beneath her fingers she felt a presence begin to grow. He hadn't lied to her! Her relief was so fierce that it blocked out everything else. She put her head against their clasped hands and felt his essence suffuse the empty shell of his body. His hand twitched, his fingers closing around hers. He gave a sudden, sharp, painful-sounding gasp, and his eyes opened, their earthy depths unfocused and bewildered. She felt the others center their attention on her, and on Duncan, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was back. He reached up to touch her face with his fingers, leaving red smudges on her cheek from the blood on his hand. "Welcome back." she said softly, putting her hand over his, not caring about the blood. "I'm glad to see you." "I--" he started, then winced. After a moment he managed a weak smile. "I'm glad to see you too, but God... what happened to me? I feel like I've been hit by a truck." "Close. It was a Klingon." He looked puzzled for a moment, then realization flooded his face. "Oh no-- tell me I didn't--" he looked down at himself, and saw the blood, then lifted his head enough to look past her to the stunned faces of the Enterprise's captain, chief medical officer, counselor, and chief of security. "Damn." he muttered as he slumped back onto the biobed with a sigh. "I hate it when this happens." She nodded, smiling a little. He started to sit up and Beverly stepped closer, her hand on his shoulder. "What do you think you're doing? You shouldn't even be alive, much less sitting up!" Duncan let her push him back down on the bed. Guinan moved over to get out of Beverly's way. Duncan's face was a mask of resignation. He'd obviously decided that there was no point in fighting it any more. She reached out to clasp his hand again and felt waves of fear flowing from him. He might be consenting to the exam, but he greatly feared its consequences. "It's all right, Mr. MacLeod," Deanna said, obviously sensing his fear as clearly as Guinan did. "Dr. Crusher just wants to make certain that you're all right. She's not going to hurt you." "Not intentionally," he said flatly. Picard spoke quietly, "I can assure you, Mr. MacLeod that we mean you no harm, but you must admit that this incident raises some rather interesting questions." Duncan sighed,"I know it does. Believe me, I know. Also believe me when I say that while I trust you are all good people, I'd rather not answer those interesting questions. I've been burned one too many times," he paused, "literally." "Nevertheless," Picard responded, "we cannot let those questions go unanswered. This, however, is not the time to speak of such things. It can wait until after the doctor has finished." He turned to Worf who was now flanked by two rather bewildered security guards who'd answered the detention order, "Mr. Worf, would you assign an escort to wait for Mr. MacLeod? Oh, and remove that detention order on yourself. Have them show him to the observation lounge when he's ready." Picard turned back to Duncan, "After Dr. Crusher releases you and you've had a chance to clean up, I'd appreciate an opportunity to talk with you about this." Duncan sighed, looking remarkably mulish, "If you insist. It's your ship." Guinan winced a little, anticipating the Captain's response. She was relieved when he made no comment, glad that he'd grown beyond the need for such things. The last thing she wanted was for two of her closest friends to dislike each other. Giving Duncan's hand a gentle squeeze, she released it and went to wait by the door for Picard. Knowing him as she did, she knew he'd want to speak with her about Duncan. Beverly looked up, her face flushed with amazement. "This is incredible! There's no sign of a wound, no soft-tissue damage at all! No sign that this injury ever occurred, though I do see a rather incredible amount of skeletal scarring. You've been pretty hard on your body, Mr. MacLeod." Duncan snorted. "You know what they say... `shit happens.'" They all stared at him blankly, and after a moment he shrugged. "Well, they used to say it" he muttered. Guinan chuckled. "Don't let Data hear that one." "Please." Deanna said, smiling. Picard looked over at the Doctor and caught her eye. "Dr. Crusher, please report as soon as you release Mr. MacLeod." As Beverly nodded distractedly, absorbed in her tricorder readings, he turned to Guinan, clearly still amused by that last exchange. "Guinan, I'd like to speak to you." She nodded, and they left the room together. **** Beverly Crusher stood in the turbolift, mentally rehearsing the report she was to make to the captain. It was distressingly bare of substance, which he wasn't going to like it at all. She didn't like it much herself. She wished she'd had more time! The researcher in her was fascinated by Duncan MacLeod. He was just so amazing! He had taken her examination with ill grace, but what she had found just whetted her appetite to learn more. She had finally let him go, with extreme reluctance, knowing that the captain was waiting for her report, and for the man. The lift stopped and the doors opened. She stepped out onto the bridge and nodded at Deanna and Will, then made her way up the ramp to the Ready Room door. She adjusted her lab-coat, flicked her hair out of her face, and touched the chime. A moment later the door slid open, and she stepped inside. Guinan was seated on the couch across from Picard, who was half-sitting on his desk. The scene appeared relaxed, almost informal, but she could sense an underlying tension. Jean-Luc seemed glad to see her. "Doctor, what have you discovered about our guest? What is he?" "He's... human, mostly, but at the same time, he's not." "Explain." "I can't. It would take months of research, years perhaps, to find out why he is the way he is. I can tell you he's got the most bizarre immune system I've ever seen. His cellular regeneration processes are nothing short of phenomenal. Normally there would be a measurable amount of degradation during cellular replacement. We all lose and replace millions of cells daily, and each replacement cell is minutely, though measurably, less perfect than the one before. In Duncan MacLeod, each replacement cell is identical to the previous one. It's as if at some point in his life he was simply frozen in time. I've never seen anything like it." "The fountain of youth." Picard said, drawing from the imagery of mythology. Beverly nodded. "In a matter of speaking. " "How old is he?" "According to the medical scanners, he's around thirty or thirty-five, but according to his DNA mutation patterns, he's approximately that number of generations removed from us." "Thirty generations? That would be... good God! Nine-hundred years?" He frowned. "Could he be a time traveller from the future then, like the `future historian' that Rassmussen impersonated?" Beverly shook her head emphatically. "He can't be from the future, it doesn't work that way. The mutation rate is constant and measurable, like a kind of clock. If he were from the future, I'd be able to tell that as well. Another thing... he has antibodies to disease agents which haven't been present for hundreds of years. Things like bubonic plague, smallpox, AIDS, Rigilian Fever... the list is almost endless. It seemed like every test we ran came back positive. To have antibodies against diseases that no longer exist he has to have lived when those diseases were in existence. For example, the last smallpox virus was intentionally destroyed in the early twenty-first century, so he has to be at least that old." Picard looked at Guinan questioningly. She shook her head. "I first met him late in the twentieth century, on Earth, but I don't feel I can say anything more than that without violating his trust. What he was doing there, how he got there, how he got here... you'll have to ask him." "You're not being very helpful." Jean-Luc said, clearly exasperated. Guinan sighed unhappily. "I know, and I'm sorry. But it's his life, not mine. All I can tell you is that he poses no threat to you, or to this ship." Picard sighed. "I know that you believe that to be the truth, but you must admit, you are prejudiced in this matter." Guinan's posture altered subtly, becoming slightly stiffer, her chin lifting. "Everyone views the world through their own prejudices, Captain. Mine are not the issue here. He is not a threat to us, however we may well be a threat to him." Picard looked puzzled. "In what way could we be a threat to him?" "Ask him." Guinan said intensely. As her challenge hung in the air, Worf's disembodied voice sounded over the com system. "Captain, Mr. MacLeod is waiting for you in the Observation Lounge." "Acknowledged, Mr. Worf. Ask the senior staff to join us, please." "Aye, Captain." Picard gestured for Guinan and Beverly to follow him. "I shall ask him, Guinan, but will he answer?" She shrugged. "Time will tell." **** Duncan slouched in his seat, feeling surly and ill-used. He shot periodic glances toward the two security officers who stood at the doorway. `Escort' indeed. He knew a guard detail when he saw one. The conference room was juat a genteel prison. He felt as if he were awaiting sentencing. Waiting for the words that would end his life as he knew it, end his freedom. Perhaps not just his, but that of all those like him. He had no one in particular to blame, it had been inevitable, but he was in no mood to be reasonable about it. He sighed, and turned deliberately away from the room, looking out through the observation windows, glad that he at least had the stars. He heard the doors open. It sounded as if several people had entered the room, not just Picard. He didn't give them the satisfaction of turning around. After a moment, he heard a gentle cough. "Duncan?" Guinan's voice. He sighed. He couldn't be rude to her, even if he wanted to be rude to the rest of them. He turned around. "Hello sweetheart, I see the inquisition has arrived." Data, the android lieutenant commander Duncan had heard about but not yet met, cocked his head slightly to one side. "Sweetheart is usually used as an expression of affection. It does not appear to belong in the same sentence as `the inquisition'." "I was talking about two different things. I have a great deal of affection for Guinan, however, I can't say the for the rest of this nonsense." =========================================================================