Date: Thu, 6 Jul 1995 16:00:54 -0500 Reply-To: kellie , Julia Kosatka Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Julia Kosatka Subject: In the Dark, part 13/17 "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 between eleven and one, 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. "Damnit, 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 earth-brown 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're in no condition to 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 alright, Mr. MacLeod," Deanna said, obviously sensing his fear as clearly as Guinan did. "Dr. Crusher just wants to make certain that you're alright. 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." Beverly nodded distractedly, absorbed in her tricorder readings, and 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. **** Subject: In the Dark 12/14 --------------------------------------------------------------------------- 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 is 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. According to his DNA 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 detachment when he saw one. The conference room was 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, and didn't turn around. 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 seem 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 same for the rest of this nonsense." "I appreciate your frustration, Mr. MacLeod, however I am sure you understand the necessity of the situation," Picard said quietly. "I suppose I do, but I'll be damned if I have to like it!" "Liking it is not a requirement. The truth is." "You won't like the truth." "The truth is often unpleasant, however it is what we deal in." "`Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,' Captain. Have you never lied to protect yourself? To protect your friends? Do you tell everyone you meet everything about yourself? Have you no secrets, nothing you would rather be known only to your closest friends? I beg leave to doubt it." Picard leaned forward, his expression thoughtful as he steepled his fingers. "I can't say that I've never done any of those things as I have done all of them. However, you may rely on our discretion. Unless something about you proves to be a threat to us, or to the Federation, it need go no further than this room." Duncan looked around the room, from face to face, each person in turn. He lifted an eyebrow. "You're telling me that seven people can be counted on *never* to reveal my secrets to anyone else?" He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. "Tell me another one." Picard stiffened visibly. "Mr. MacLeod, I would, and have, trusted these people with my life. They have never let me down. I will thank you not to insult their integrity." Duncan looked into Picard's eyes, and found honesty as well as anger in his steady gaze. He shook his head. "I have no doubt about their integrity, I just know human nature. You don't get to be..." he paused, considering. He might as well tell them, it was all going to come out anyway. "You don't get to be nearly a thousand years old without becoming something of an expert on the subject." Picard didn't respond for a moment, but LaForge did. "Are you telling us that you were born in the fourteenth century?" His voice held clear disbelief. Duncan smiled. "No, actually in the sixteenth. I have a couple of hundred years to go before I hit the big one-zero-zero-zero." Geordi started to laugh, then he looked at Guinan. His smile faded and he looked to Picard, then his gaze swept the others. "You're serious!" Duncan nodded. "All too." Beverly's face took on an expression of awestruck amazement. "Eight *hundred* years? After the tests I ran I can see that it's possible, for you, but I don't understand it! It must be some sort of mutation. Tell me, were your parents unusually long-lived?" "We have no parents. We are *always* foundlings." The look of shock on Beverly Crusher's face was priceless. "We?" she squeaked, clearly stunned. "There are *more* of you?" "Quite a few. That's part of why I didn't want to tell you. I expose not only myself, but all those like me. I put them at the same risk that I take on." "What risk?" Worf asked. "I see no risk in the truth." Duncan looked at the Klingon, but before he could speak, Picard did so. "I think I understand. You said it earlier. You've been burned too many times. Witch hunts, persecutions, pogroms." Duncan nodded. "Not to mention experimentation. Doctor Crusher isn't the first to want to find out what makes us tick. Few have been as gentle. The Eugenics Wars were the worst time for us, fortunately in the chaos that followed we were able to locate and destroy Singh's records. He had six of us, none survived the experiments." He paused a moment, trying not to remember the nature of those experiments, and their results. He'd lost good friends there. "Duncan?" Guinan said his name softly, drawing him back to the present. Her gaze was warm and concerned. He sighed. "Sorry. Sometimes the remembering is too much. I get so tired of losing friends." He looked at Picard, "Can you see my dilemma?" Picard nodded. "I understand it better now, but knowing there are more of you compounds my own dilemma. You may not be a threat, but others like you could be. Unless you can prove otherwise, I feel I must report this to Star Fleet Command." Duncan realized he was going to have to play his ace. "I can't prove otherwise, I'd be a liar if I were to try. But there's no need to inform Star Fleet, Captain. They know. If you want confirmation, contact Admiral Tamar Dawson. I would appreciate it if you would do so on a secure channel, of course, but she'll confirm what I've told you." "Admiral Dawson?" Picard said, clearly surprised. "Admiral *Dawson*?" Guinan echoed, with a slightly different emphasis. Duncan looked at her and nodded, grinning. "Joe finally found a woman who'd put up with him. Delphia reminded me a bit of you." He paused a moment, and winked. "Though nowhere near as intriguing, of course." She chuckled. "Good save. I want details," she looked around, as if just realizing they weren't alone. "Later." He nodded, smiling a little at her obvious discomfort. "Later." Picard cleared his throat. "I know Admiral Dawson, and I *will* contact her. I do find it odd, though, that you fought so hard against telling us, if Star Fleet already knows." Duncan gnawed at the inside of his cheek and tried to think of a way to get out of this one. He had hoped Picard wouldn't be quite so shrewd. He should have known better. "I didn't say *all* of Star Fleet knew. Our presence is known only to a select few." "Who does the selecting?" Riker asked pointedly. He sighed. He was going to have to go one step further. At times like this he wished he had Methos handy. The older Immortal always seemed to take a perverse pleasure in dealing with this sort of thing. `Spin control' as he'd once put it. He hoped Tamar would forgive him for this. "There's an organization who keeps track of us. They're called Watchers. Members of Admiral Dawson's family have been Watchers for centuries." "Watchers? This gets more and more convoluted. Now not only are there... what do you call yourselves?" Riker asked. "Immortals, though it's somewhat of a misnomer. We can be killed. And no, I'm not going to tell you *how*." He grinned. "I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid." That drew a chuckle from his inquisitors before Riker continued. "So we have Immortals and Watchers. Pretty damned convenient if you ask me." "Not if you're an Immortal. It can be a damned nuisance. Actually, it's not always a picnic for the Watchers, either. My co-pilot was my Watcher, and it didn't turn out to be a great job for him." Riker's eyes narrowed. "Did you kill him?" For a moment Duncan was too stunned to speak. When he finally did, it was with outrage. "No, I didn't kill him, damn it! Jeremy Dikembe was my friend! I don't kill innocents!" "So who *do* you kill?" Picard asked quietly. "You're a trained swordsman, a fighter good enough to disarm a Klingon warrior. I get the impression you don't fight for fun." =========================================================================