Snowbound
Author: Anna C. Bowling
| Part 2/6 - Series: TNG, Tapestry Saga Rating: PG-13 Codes: R/f | |
| Comments, praise, flames to : Unzadi@aol.com |  |
Date: 29 Dec 1998 23:15:56 GMT
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything even remotely related to Star Trek. The story and original characters are mine, mine, mine. So there.
Summary: Picking up where Snowblind left off, Riker and Sarah Cromwell lead an away team to unravel the mystery of Romulans on Philemon III
PART TWO
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Data's reply was almost instantaneous. "No sentient life. I am picking up various forms of vegetation and microscopic bacteria. The vegetation is most likely edible. According to my findings, it contains nothing toxic to humans. Or Andorians," he added, with a nod in Eliva's direction as he cross-referenced the list of toxins in his memory banks.
If Data had mentioned food, that meant they were going to be there for a while. It was best to give everybody something to do, and Data's suggestion was as good as any. "Feeling up to a little work, Cromwell?"
"Aye, sir," she replied quickly, her voice showing no sign of the past few minutes. Her face, though, was a different story. Sarah didn't have the artificial albino colouring to conceal the dark circles under her eyes, or the greyish-green tinge that still clung to her skin. *Thank you,* Riker could read in her silence.
He flashed her a smile. "Great." He stroked his beard while he contemplated the three tunnels visible from where they stood. Exploration seemed like a relatively safe option. It occurred to him to ask Deanna if she sensed anything, but Deanna was still on the *Enterprise,* so that was out.
"Okay," he said at last, "Taylor, Sabu, Riss, take the passage on the left and see what you can find. La Forge, Crusher and Sinclair, take the right. Data, start down the centre. Cromwell and I will catch up with you in a few minutes. Everyone keep Mr. Data apprised of your activities, especially if you find anything interesting. There's no telling how long we'll be here, so keep an eye out for potential food sources. We'll meet here in one hour and compare notes."
Riker watched them split off into the assigned groups. He wondered how long he'd been tapping one foot impatiently, and if anyone had noticed. *Nervous mannerisms don't do much for the command presence.*
As the others were swallowed by the darkness of the tunnels, Riker sat next to Sarah again. "Take your time," he urged her. "We don't have to rush anything." Her breathing was a little too rapid for his liking.
Sarah nodded her relief. "Thank you, sir."
Riker tapped her chin lightly. "Hey, I don't see anyone else around. You can drop the 'sir,' okay? This isn't the *Hood.* Nobody's going to report us."
She managed a bit of a smile. "Thank you, Willie," she amended. "I'd like to get to things as soon as possible. Sitting about here, waiting for the storm to end, would drive me balmy in minutes."
He placed a hand on her shoulder, gently kneading at the muscles there. "I'll put you to work soon enough, Brit. Don't worry about that. It's a promise. Right now, I want to make sure you're fit for duty."
"That would be your doctor's job"
"She's not here. Indulge me." He could feel Sarah's tension easing as her muscles relaxed beneath his touch. "I just thought it might be easier for you to talk without an audience. That is, if you want to," he qualified, not wanting her to think he was prying. His eyes searched her face for some indication of what she was thinking.
Sarah looked away from him, at the colours of the cave paintings. "I don't know what came over me. I'd promise it wouldn't happen again, but as we saw..."
"As we saw, you've got one heck of a grip." He rubbed the spot on his chin that was still smarting. "Finding the Klevv you encountered shouldn't be too hard; we'll look for the ones with the bruises and the bald spots in their beards."
Sarah's eyes widened. "Terribly sorry. Did I do you much damage?" Her eyes darted to the extension she still clutched in one hand. She'd forgotten about that.
He made a show of searching for a bare patch. A quick exploration told him that Sarah had taken only the extension. "Nothing permanent."
"Good. Did you want this back, or might I keep it as a souvenier?" Sarah held out the extension, and, at Riker's indication, folded it into a pocket on her robe. She rested her chin in both hands, hooking the small finger of her left hand over her lower lip.
Riker knew that look. Sarah was busy composing a picture. If she was thinking about art, she was doing just fine. He looked behind him, to see what cave painting it was that had captured her imagination. His guess narrowed it down to the mating dunfs and what looked to be like some sort of celebration.
"How long have you had it?"
"Huh?" Riker turned back to face her.
She still had her fingertip between her teeth, a sure sign of artistic concentration. "The beard. How long have you had it?"
"About a year." *Accept it now, Riker. She's going to make you sit for her.* "If I have to be your model again, do I at least get breaks this time?"
"If you behave yourself and don't fidget." Sarah cocked her head first to one side, and then the other. "I still have the glove on, don't I?" She pulled the finger out of her mouth and scowled. "Dunf fur is not a delicacy, believe me. The rest of the dunf isn't much better, for that matter." She wiped the glove against her robe. "I like it. The beard, I mean. Not the dunfs or their bloody fur. They can both go to blazes for all I care. The beard is nice, though. Very nice. I always thought it would be. Can't imagine why you didn't start one sooner."
An extremely pleasant memory came back to him. "I almost did," he confessed, one hand passing thoughtfully over his chin. "On the *Hood,* during your cadet cruise, as a matter of fact. It was after the incident with the, ah," he paused, giving Sarah the same playful grin he'd favoured her with back then.
"One and only poker game you ever let me play in," she finished for him, allowing the memory to warm her as well. "I remember. It was one of the things I thought about, sometimes." Sarah paused, her voice shaking as she looked past Riker. "You said I was counting cards, but I wasn't. I said I couldn't forget which cards I'd already seen, and therefore what was still in the deck."
Riker laughed at the memory of his reaction. "You beat me. What else was I supposed to think? I can't believe we celebrated that long." He watched the slow, distant smile spread across Sarah's face. "What?"
A twitch of amusement played across her lips. "The way you jumped when my clock rang, and you realised what time it was."
"That clock might have given me permanent hearing loss."
Sarah shook her head, her expression unchanged. "Liar. That clock was a gift from my Grandmum. It's a family heirloom. Besides, you never objected to it before then."
"That's because I'd never fallen asleep on your couch before then," he said. "That thing could wake the dead."
Sarah's light laugh echoed off the cave walls. "Only if the deceased had met his demise at the hands of a bottle of Saurian brandy. Need I remind you who had to get you into proper form to report for duty?"
Riker held up both hands in surrender. "All right. Guilty. Do I still have to apologise, or is the statute of limitations past?"
"All things considered, it's past. If you can pardon me for not taking your reprimand with a straight face." She stopped, closing her eyes to concentrate. "I wouldn't have been late to my station if it weren't for..."
"Hey," Riker interrupted. "I thought we weren't going to talk about that again. I still have my throat, barely, and we still have our careers. The worst damage was a few rumours."
Sarah opened her eyes, blinking to readjust to the light of the present. "There were a lot of rumours. According to half the ship, we were having some mad, passionate affair."
Riker couldn't surpress a huge grin. He remembered well the looks he'd gotten, both dirty and otherwise, coming out of Midshipman Cromwell's quarters. Most times, he'd been unshaven, and in the previous day's uniform, nearly running to his own quarters so he could make himself presentable and still be on time for bridge duty. "I'm sorry. It wasn't easy."
"No," Sarah echoed. "It wasn't. Especially," she paused for a deep breath. "The investigation."
Riker could feel their previous light mood vanish under the swift strike of Sarah's words. "I hated it, too." He reached for her hand, giving it a single, reassuring squeeze before continuing. "Captain DeSoto knew we were only talking. I had to give him details, though."
"Like what?" Her voice was distant, worrying him.
"Ferret legging, for one thing. I was asked exactly what we were talking about on a particular night, and I had to outline the entire sport of ferret legging." He chuckled. "The binders, the ferrets down the pants... excuse me, *trousers*, the endurance factor. I even offered to call up a holo of your uncle's championship trophy."
Sarah cocked her head, her pale golden eyebrows arching in skepticism. "You didn't."
"No, I didn't," he admitted. "It wasn't neccessary. Captain DeSoto decided that nobody who had been up all night, involved in," he paused to recall their former commander's exact words. "In intimate activity, as he put it, could possibly be able to make all that up on the spot. He did have his own theory, although I don't think you'd like to hear it."
Sarah wasn't so sure. "Maybe. What was it?"
"A bunch of drunken Englishmen."
She thought for a second. "He's probably right. Middle tunnel, you said?" Sarah srpang from their seat and started off.
Riker wasn't far behind. "Not so fast, Lieutenant."
Sarah stopped and turned around, her eyes holding the same look of disbelief they had years ago, when she'd discovered that Cadet Riker had spent three hours in a water closet, believing it to be a library. "I thought you didn't want rank when it was just the two of us."
He took a cautious step towards her. "I don't."
"But you just..."
"I just did what I would have done with any other member of an away team." *Liar.* "It's my job to make sure you only carry out those duties you're capable of performing."
Sarah crossed her arms mutinously in front of her. "And you don't think I'm up to busy work?"
"I didn't say that." *Not in so many words.* "I just want to make sure you don't overexert yourself."
"If I may speak freely, sir?" She waited for his nod. "That is your doctor's job, as I've said before, or your counsellor's, if you're concerned with my mental state. My job is to follow your orders. The last order of yours that I recall is that you wanted me to accompany you and Mr Data in exploring the centre tunnel. Did I miss anything further?"
Riker smiled. No, Sarah hadn't missed any further orders. Her memory was almost as good as Data's. *Data.* She'd gotten the android's name right. That made alien and android names she could remember, but human names were seemingly beyond her reach, crowded out by everything else she'd taken in, or had poured down her.
She was still looking at him. He knew that look, and knew that when it was directed at a subordinate, it could be every bit as intimidating as his own patented glare. "I'm not saying you aren't fit for duty."
"Thank you, sir."
He glared back.
A flicker of frustration played across her classically British features, a hint of royal disdain. "I haven't gone crackers."
"I know," Riker allowed, his voice soft.
"Then what is it?"
He squared his shoulders. "You've been through a very traumatic..."
Sarah turned her back, with a huff. "Now you're sounding like that counsellor. The Betazoid."
"The Betazoid? What was her name again?" Riker hoped Sarah would pick up on the teasing tone in his voice. From the stiffness of her posture, it didn't seem likely.
"Troi. Diana Troi." Sarah's tone was crisp, each word brittle with distaste.
Riker's grin faded away. He'd baited her, and he regretted it. 'I'm sorry."
"For what?"
*All of it.* "I shouldn't have brought up...I mean I didn't mean to..." His voice trailed off, as he knew he didn't have the right words. *Smooth, Riker, real smooth.*
Sarah turned back to face him, her expression one of practised calm. "You needn't apologise for whatever it is you're trying to apologise for."
Riker let out a long breath. *Yes, I do. I had no business mentioning Deanna to you in those letters. You were a kid. You didn't need to know any of that. I thought you were just Arthur's sister...If I'd known you...that what I felt...Brit, do I have to come out and say it? I guess it took Derl to make me realise, and by then...* "Forget it."
She shrugged. "Gladly." She cast an anxious glance at the centre tunnel. "Don't you think we should be joining Mr Data?"
Sarah did have a point. *Later, Brit, I promise.* "Soon. Data can do just fine on his own for a few minutes."
"So can I."
So she could. "Are you sure you don't need a few more minutes to rest?"
"No, sir...Willie."
That brought a wide grin. "Sir Willie?" He made a sweeping bow. She could still blush, he noticed. "After you, my lady." * * *
Riker reached inside the front flap of his robe to tap his communicator. "Riker to Data." There was no response. He tried again. Still nothing. He swallowed an expletive. Nothing. He gave up. "Try yours."
Sarah slid her hand inside her robe. "Cromwell to Data." The sound was wrong. She frowned. "It's no use. The communicators aren't working."
"What do you mean, they aren't working?"
"Listen." She tapped the communciator once more. "Cromwell to Riker."
Riker listened for his own communicator's answering beep. There was nothing. He pulled the device away from his robes and held it in the palm of his hand. He gave it one final experimental tap, although he knew what the end result would be. Nothing. "Wonderful."
There was a moment of silence between them, the only sound being the repetitive, erratic pelting of ice against rock. "I wonder what else doesn't work," Riker finally said.
Sarah was already working a test sequence on her tricorder. "Tricorder's working. At least we have that much."
"Good. We should test the phasers. Pick a target."
Taking a few seconds to see what could best withstand even a mild blast, Sarah chose her target carefully. "That rock, over there. The one all by itself, about five meters straight ahead."
At Riker's nod, they both directed slender blasts of energy at the rock until it glowed white-hot. "It's only the communicators," Riker mused aloud, resetting his phaser and concealing it. "Let's not waste the heat," he suggested, moving toward the glowing stone.
Sarah concealed her own weapon and joined him. The rock they'd heated would continue to warm them for quite some time. She was grateful for that, although she knew she wouldn't be able to take much of the heat. It was too much, too soon. She sat as closely as she could, needing time to think. The knowledge that they were unable to communicate with the rest of the away team unnerved her. It was too much like the last time she'd taken shelter in an ice storm.
She looked at Riker, careful not to betray the slight anxiety that had started to take shape in her mind. He was stroking his beard again, a gesture which she assumed indicated deep thought. It suited him. "Commander?"
Riker looked up, caught in the middle of a possibility. "We'll have to assume the others are unable to contact us as well." He hated when things like this happened. Was it too much to ask just to be able to get in there, find the Romulan compound, dismantle whatever it was they'd been building, turn the Klevv over to the local authourity, even if it was a paper-pusher like Anderson, and... Of course it was. Time for Plan B.
What *was* Plan B? Riker suddenly felt like he was back at the Academy, taking one of the dreaded simulations. *Okay, Cadet, what do you do when your away team is split into three different parties, none of which can communicate with the others? Factor in the possibility of carnivorous animals and Romulan activity in the near vicinity. You have twenty minutes. Begin.* He could see the old Vulcan instructor standing over him. He did the only thing any good commander would do in the same situation.
"Reccomendations, Lieutenant?"
Sarah had drawn her knees up to her chin, and scooted back from the source of the heat. "I see that we have two options. We can either continue our exploration, and keep an eye, or in this case, tricorder, out for the rest of our companions, or we could return to the mouth of the cave and wait for them to do the same. That choice, of course, is contingent upon their knowledge of our communications status." She paused, watching the heat from the stone play across the strange colouring of Riker's face, making him look like something from Philemite mythology. "If they haven't attempted communication, they will return to the cave's entrance in approximately thirty minutes."
Riker sat back. That much, he could have gotten from Data. Sarah was doing just what he'd expected she'd do: try and act as though this were just any other mission. It was one of her best masks, and she wore it well. It might not fit him all that badly, he considered. Sarah might appreciate it if he followed her example. There was the rest of the away team to consider.
Part of him wanted to believe they would all be there when they regrouped. Regrouped. That was a decision. Good. Another part of him wanted to assume the worst. A lot could happen in a situation like this one. It was entirely possible that they'd find their way to the Romulan compound the hard way, complete with Romulan escort.
Riker stood. "We'll take some scans of the immediate area, and attempt to regroup."
"Aye, sir." Sarah began scooping up handfuls of the loose gravel that covered the cave floor, and poured them over the rock. Best if we don't leave too many clues."
"Good idea." Riker agreed, taking another look around. Tiny puffs of vapour accompanied the slight hiss as the gravel, and the ice crystals that clung to it, hit the heated rock. Riker watched it intently, as if it might bring some answers. It didn't. He turned his attention back to the cave walls.
Some of the cave paintings were self-explanatory, records of scenes from everyday life among the Klevv. Each of the Klevv figures represented was depicted in painstaking detail. Riker was sure that anyone who knew a specific clan would be able to pick out the individuals in each line. "Cromwell, take a look at these faces. See if you can find any Berrek."
Finished with the rock, Sarah took a position along the opposite wall, and ran her fingers along the markings. "The top row of paintings is the most recent. Berrek have been here, but not for a while. About four or five months ago, I'd say." She took a step to the side, following the direction of the painting. "There was a birth, a male child. They lost two dunfs in a storm, but gained four when a woman from the Ugeb clan married one of their men." The tone of her narrative changed as she made a new discovery. "That's odd."
"What?"
Sarah double-checked her suspicion before saying anything else. "The Ugeb have been here twice. They don't normally do that."
As little as Riker knew about the Klevv, Sarah's observation set off a yellow alert in his mind. "Show me."
Sarah indicated two separate lines of paintings. "See right here on top? This is the most recent visit by the Ugeb; they're the ones with the blue. Down here, coinciding with the Berrek, here they are again."
"Again? I thought you said the top row is the most recent."
"It is. I was looking there first. This top painting is only two weeks old. Paint dries very quickly in this climate. Besides, the colour is too bright for the date they gave to be accurate. I wouldn't expect to see them, though. They were headed for..." Sarah's voice dropped abruptly. "Dunf." She crouched and picked up a tuft of white fur. Slowly, she lifted the tuft to her face. Taking a deep whiff of the fur, she tossed it back down. "This didn't come from our robes. It's fresh."
*Great. Just great.* Riker took out his tricorder and made a wide arc. Dunf. Exactly what they needed. He didn't like this one bit. "I'm not picking up..."
A distinctly human scream cut him off. He pulled his phaser and motioned for Sarah to do the same. He didn't hear anything else after the scream, which gave him a very unprofessional case of the shivers.
END OF PART TWO
* * *
Chamber of the Warrior Queen
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This story is re-posted with kind permission from the author.
Snowbound is part of the Snow Quartet. It is #2 out of four. We hope that we will be able to post the other parts here at nrw.co.uk, too; however, at the moment, I'm unable to find them. Please take a look directly at the Tapestry Saga website. Also in the saga is E. Catherine Tobler's story, "Treasures," with more to come from both Anne and Catherine. The site also includes a saga timeline, family trees and other "companion" resources.
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