Part 32 (1/2)

”H ... had... enough ...” he managed to get out.

”Was that... a question to me ... or a ... description of yourself...” Worf said between lungfuls of air.

At that moment, a squad of Romulans entered. They surveyed the damage that the two of them had done to each other, and Dr. Tok-who was carrying what appeared to be a medical kit-shook his head in annoyance. ”Take this one,” he pointed at Worf, ”and stick him with his son and fiancee.”

The Romulans did as they were told, while Tok knelt down opposite Riker. He pulled instruments from his kit and started working on Riker's face. ”Hold still please,” he said as the tools began to stimulate cellular growth in Will's skin.

”What are you doing?”

”Getting you fixed up. In case you're unaware of it, you came in here looking rather in bad shape to begin with. Your little brawl with the Klingon didn't do much for your complexion on top of that. Sela reasoned that sending you to the Klingon homeworld looking like you've been in a series of fights is hardly going to facilitate your pa.s.sing yourself off as William Riker.”

”Believe me,” said Will, ”that's the last person I'd want to be right now.”

Worf was not entirely sure of the reaction he was going to get when he entered the room with Deanna and Alexander. So he was relieved when Deanna took one look at him, sighed, ”Oh, Worf... thank G.o.d ...,” and ran to embrace him. The warmth of her, the intensity of her arms around him ... it all went a long way toward a.s.suaging the serious concerns that he had been having. Deanna was, after all, the priority here. Although she was Starfleet, still she had been raised in the ways of Betazed. She might have had difficulty with the notion that Worf was prepared to sacrifice her rather than allow dishonor and dereliction of duty to hold sway. ”I... I knew you were alive, even after I saw you take that fall... I knew it... and now you're here . , .”

”Everything will be all right,” Worf a.s.sured.

”Yes, it will,” Alexander spoke up. Then he paused and added, ”Thanks to Riker.”

There was silence in the room for a moment.

For a moment, Worf wanted to shout at his son. To dress him down, to verbally eviscerate him for taking that tone. But matters were difficult enough as it was. Now was the time for patience and understanding, the types of thing that Deanna had labored so mightily to teach him. To teach them both.

Before he could say anything, Deanna said to Alexander, ”Alexander... what your father did ... it was the right thing for him to do ...”

”And Riker was wrong? You're saying it was wrong for us to live?”

”No ... he ... he also did ... what was right for him...**

Inwardly, Worf shuddered at the fact that she was echoing Riker's own words. Was there anything that the two of them were not united upon? Was there any room for Worf in the equation at all?

”Alexander, I expected you to understand,” Worf said. ”Have I not taught you anything?”

”Oh, you taught me, Father,” Alexander replied with quiet defiance. ”You taught me just how important my life, and Deanna's life, is to you. And you've done it with such efficiency that I don't give a d.a.m.n if I never see you again.”

”Alexander!” Deanna said, shocked.

Under ordinary circ.u.mstances, there was every possibility that Worf would have blown his top by that point. But he was still feeling emotionally spent from his altercation with Riker. So instead patience ruled the moment. ”You have to understand, Alexander... when you were dying, a part of me was dying with you. But everything that makes me who I am, everything that I believe to be important, dictated that I had no choice. My commitment to Starfleet, and the Federation, and the Klingon way of life, all required-”

Alexander walked slowly toward him, fists balled up, and he practically shouted, ”It had nothing to do with Starfleet! Or the Federation! Or the Klingon way! It had to do with your own stubborn pride!”

”That is not true!” snapped back Worf. ”I cared about doing my duty, first and foremost.”

”Obviously you care about duty more than Deanna ... or me... or anything.”

”You do not understand.”

”Oh, no ... I understand. You've made it very clear,”

Alexander said to him. And then he turned and walked away from him, sitting with his back pointedly to his father.

Will looked in the mirror that had been provided him and was pleased to see that his face was well on the way to healing up. And he was wearing a Starfleet uniform, which, for some reason, made him feel more human again somehow.

The question was, had he betrayed that uniform by ”knuckling under” to the Romulan demands?

The thought was repellent to him, but he had spoken the truth to Worf: He had simply felt as if he had no choice. The question wasn't how could he have saved them. The question was how could Worf not have. But he had been honest he said that, in many ways, Worf remained a mystery to him. He just didn't understand the man.

Then again, considering the number of times that Riker didn't understand himself, it was probably a wash.

That was when he heard his own voice just outside the door.

”I want to have a few minutes alone with the prisoner,” Tom Riker said. ”It'll be all right, I a.s.sure you. Where's he going to go?” The guard who was on duty apparently agreed to Tom's request, because a moment later Tom was inside.

”Here to gloat?” asked Will.

”No,” Tom replied calmly. He paused, gathering his thoughts. ”Will... I know you don't think much of me ...”

”Is this where I'm going to hear another lecture about how difficult it's been for you? Of the hand that you didn't get dealt. Are you going to try and rationalize away the fact that you're a traitor?”

”A traitor to whom, Will? A traitor to what?” Tom grinned raggedly. ”I'm doing my duty, just as you are. But I have a different duty. So I became a member of the Maquis while you stayed with Starfleet. So what? Someone had to be the evil twin.”

Will, to his own surprise, laughed at that. ”I don't think of you as evil. Stupid, perhaps... and a traitor ... but not evil.”

”That's d.a.m.ned decent of you. We're no different, Will. I watched you stand there and throw away your Starfleet oath-risk interplanetary warfare-for the life of a single woman. How does that make you any less of a traitor?”

”It is different.”

”The reasons may be different, but the result is exactly the same. Don't tell me it's not, we both know it is.” He crouched down next to Will and lowered his voice. ”You can fool Sela ... but you can't fool us. Don't even bother trying to lie to me. I know what you're going to do. You'll try and pull some sort of double-cross, some sort of last-minute stunt. You're playing for time, and-unlike Worf-you don't mind lying or losing face or bending to the pressure. You just couldn't let her die.”

”Really. Tell me this, then: If we're so much alike ... how come you could let her die?”

Tom looked down. He actually appeared ashamed. ”You know ... when I first met you ... and I saw that you had let Deanna just be there, part of your life but outside of your life all those years ... I felt nothing but contempt for you. Perhaps some of that carried over to this day. But I think... to a degree... you are stronger than I ever could have been. Stronger because you resisted the impulse to pursue her, to reignite the relations.h.i.+p, even though you must have wanted to ... just because you felt it was the right thing for her.”

”Mr. Worf seems to feel that it was a sign of cowardice,” Will said.

”From what I've seen of Mr. Worf, he would. You see, the thing that Worf hasn't learned yet is that just because you can do something doesn't always mean you should. He acts on impulse a good deal.”

”Worf s impulse was to save Deanna and Alexander. He resisted it in the pursuit of a greater cause. I didn't. What does that make me?”

”Cagey,” said Tom. ”Because, as I said, I know that you wouldn't give in just like that. You must have something in mind.”

Will was about to reply, but then he stopped. A look of caution crossed his face. ”You must think I'm seriously stupid.”

”No. No, I don't think that at all. Why would you think I do?”

”If I were planning something ... if I was hoping to make a grandstand play ... do you seriously think I would tell you?”