Is Drowned
Keith R.A. DeCandido
War correspondence: This story chronicles events referred to in the Star Trek: Deep Space Nine episode “In the Pale Moonlight.”
Keith R.A. DeCandido
Keith R.A. DeCandido’s contributions to the Star Trek universe since 1999 have been numerous, including the novels Diplomatic Implausibility, Demons of Air and Darkness, and The Art of the Impossible; the two-book series The Brave and the Bold; the comic book miniseries Perchance to Dream; over half a dozen eBooks in the Star Trek: S.C.E. series, which he codeveloped; and short fiction in What Lay Beyond, Prophecy and Change, and No Limits. He is also the author of the Star Trek: I.K.S. Gorkon series, novels starring the franchise’s most popular aliens, the Klingons. Forthcoming works include the novels A Time for War, a Time for Peace and Articles of the Federation, the Ferenginar portion of the Worlds of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine miniseries, further I.K.S. Gorkon adventures, and a great deal more. Keith, whose original novel Dragon Precinct was published in 2004, has also written in the universes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Doctor Who, Farscape, Gene Roddenberry’s Andromeda, Marvel Comics, Resident Evil, Xena, and more. His other anthologies include Imaginings: An Anthology of Long Short Fiction, The Ultimate Dragon, The Ultimate Alien, OtherWere: Stories of Transformation, Urban Nightmares, and an upcoming Star Trek anthology called Tales from the Captain’s Table. He has long since abandoned such outmoded notions as “sleep.” Learn more exaggerations about Keith at DeCandido.net.
Lwaxana sent Mr. Homn to the door to let Nathan Gold and Elaine Welsh in nine seconds before they arrived at the door.
Her eyes did not see Mr. Homn open the door for the two humans as they walked up the three stairs that led to it, but thanks to her telepathy, she perceived the actions just the same. Nathan was thinking about the questions he’d be asking Lwaxana; Elaine was studying the old house’s architecture and coming up with some questions of her own; Mr. Homn, bless him, was going over the inventory of the pantry, and hoping that the two new arrivals wouldn’t ask for anything that he didn’t have in stock. They had a replicator, of course, but Lwaxana hated the damn thing, and much preferred original foodstuffs. Sometimes, however, the needs of guests went beyond what was stocked in the larder, and so Lwaxana had to swallow her irritation-which always went down badly-and let Mr. Homn use the wretched device. Such were the burdens of a Daughter of the Fifth House, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, and Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed.
As soon as Mr. Homn led the couple into the cavernous living room, Lwaxana stood up from the genuine amra-skin couch to stand on the Eridat rug that had been in her family for generations, and extended her arms. “Elaine, Nathan-welcome to my humble abode! It’s so good to see you both again!”
Nathan grinned. “This you call humble? I’d hate to see lavish.”
“Thank you, Lwaxana,” Elaine said, putting her hands together. “It’s a singular privilege to be allowed into your home.”
“Of course it is, dear. Oh, and to answer your question, yes, this house was built as a combination of the early Dantric style and later Torinese.” She frowned. “I’m not sure why, really, but I always liked it. We’ve-well, I’ve lived here for- ” she blinked “- goodness, almost forty years now. Time passes so quickly, doesn’t it?”
“That explains why I keep losing my hair,” Nathan said.
This prompted Lwaxana to actually look at her guests for the first time. So often she neglected to pay attention to people’s physical appearances, aside from her own, of course. But she knew that nontelepaths placed such a huge emphasis on it that it behooved her to acknowledge them-which was part of why she paid such close attention to her own appearance.
Nathan was a short, balding man, though he hadn’t reached the elegant baldness of, say, Jean-Luc Picard or Timicin. No, he was still achieving baldness, a work in progress. The hair he had was black, flecked with gray, his nose was a bit oversized, his cheeks a bit too puffy, and he had awful posture. Worse, he insisted on wearing a beige cardigan sweater, even though it was a fairly warm day, that washed out his already pale skin. Despite the fact that, in many ways, he looked like he’d been put together by three different people going for three different appearances, it all seemed to fit together.
Much like the house’s architecture, in fact.
Elaine’s next words matched Lwaxana’s thoughts: “I’ve never seen those designs combined before-and I’ve been living here for three years now.”
“As far as I know, this house is unique. That’s what led me to it, to be honest.”
“I can see the appeal.” Elaine smiled, revealing a wide mouth of white teeth. The smile seemed a bit big for the rest of her face, truth be told. She wore her sand-colored hair tied back in a large ponytail, but even with that, her hair seemed to dwarf her small, round face. However, as with the seeming imperfections in her husband’s form, on her it worked.
This was the third time she had met with Nathan and Elaine, and once again Lwaxana found herself mildly envious of them. They were so wonderfully comfortable with their appearances. And with each other.
Lwaxana indicated the amra-skin couch; she herself took the plush conformer chair. “Both of you please, sit down. Can Mr. Homn get either of you something to eat or drink?”
“Just an allira punch for me,” Nathan said, as he took a seat on the couch, sitting with his legs straight ahead of him, his arms resting on his lap, his posture still awful.
“Nonsense,” Lwaxana said, “you also want a Reuben.”
Nathan chuckled. “Well, yeah, I want one. Been wanting a Reuben for three years, but I’ve seen what you people call corned beef on this world. The cheese is great. Love the cheese. Could die a happy man eating cheese here, but the corned beef? Forget about it. I wouldn’t give my dog the corned beef here.”
Lwaxana laughed. “You don’t even like dogs, Nathan.”
“My point.”
“Well, as it happens, you are lucky enough to be in a house that was once home to a human who adored Reubens.”
Nathan blinked. “Really?”
“No, not really, but he did love to have corned beef on rye bread. The upshot, my dear Nathan, is that our replicator is programmed to provide Earth corned beef, so you can have a Reuben.”
He threw up his hands. “Fine, you sold me. One Reuben.”
Elaine had taken up a more relaxed posture on the couch, tucking her long legs under her and leaning on the back of the couch with her right arm. She fixed Lwaxana with a look. “As I recall, last time, at the restaurant, you said that your Mr. Homn made a much better blue-leaf salad than the atrocity the restaurant fed us.”
Lwaxana turned to her valet. “Mr. Homn, in addition to the Reuben and allira punch for Mr. Gold and some oscoids and a Samarian sunset for me, please prepare a blue-leaf salad and a glass of sparkling water with a jakarine twist for Ms. Welsh.”
“Wish I could do that,” Nathan said with a smile. “Just pull things out of people’s heads. It’d certainly simplify the interview process.”
Elaine added in a mock-conspiratorial tone, “And it’d be nice if he knew what I wanted without my having to repeat it eight times.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Nathan said archly. “You usually only have to repeat it five or six times.”
“Actually,” Lwaxana said, “it averages out to nine times, but who’s counting?”
Nathan shot his wife a look. “Everyone, apparently.”
Lwaxana knew that Nathan’s irritation with his wife was feigned. That made Lwaxana both happy and sad, but she managed to rein in her emotional state. Ever since little Barin was born, she had made an effort to keep her emotions from affecting those around her. It was tough at her age-she was a sufficiently powerful telepath that, as she grew older, it became harder to keep her own emotional state from bleeding out to others, as it were-but Lwaxana was up to the challenge. She was up to any challenge.
“So, Nathan, you may as well go ahead and ask me about my first husband and my first daughter, since that’s what you’ve wanted to ask ever since I told you when we moved to this house.”
Chuckling, Nathan reached into the pocket of his sweater and pulled out some kind of gadget or other, which Lwaxana knew would record their conversation.
When Nathan and Elaine first moved to Betazed three years ago, it was for Elaine’s work: she was an architect and, in Lwaxana’s admittedly amateur if still very well-informed opinion, a rather good one. She was heading up the design team for a small village being built along Lake Cataria, meant to accommodate the greater number of people coming to live on Betazed over these past few decades. Lwaxana had always taken pride in the planet’s growing reputation as one of the garden spots of the Federation, crediting her own tireless goodwill efforts over the years to help promote that reputation.
Elaine had feared that the outbreak of the Dominion War nine months earlier would mean the work would come to a halt, but it was close enough to finished that the planetary government permitted it to continue. Lwaxana knew that this relieved Elaine, but the fear that the project would end prematurely lingered.
In the meantime, her husband, a writer, was working on a book about prominent Federation figures. The one change that the war had brought on was that travel was more hazardous than Nathan was entirely comfortable with. While Nathan’s father was a Starfleet captain, commanding the U.S.S. da Vinci, Nathan himself preferred to avoid even the possibility of encountering the conflict. He instead decided to work specifically on the chapters relating to the subject of his that was on the same planet as he was: Lwaxana.
“All right, we’re recording.” Nathan leaned back on the couch, his arms again resting on his lap. “And yeah, you’re right, soon as you said almost forty years ago, I immediately thought of your first husband and first daughter. Did you move here after Kestra died?”
It was rare that Lwaxana ever felt the need to compose herself before she spoke, but she did right now. It was still so difficult to speak of Kestra…
Finally, she began. “There was a time, not very long ago, when the answer to that question would’ve been ‘Kestra who? My only daughter is my darling Deanna.’ Kestra died in a terrible accident when she was six. I was so distraught, I-I pretended she didn’t exist. I erased all memory of her, I eliminated all my diary entries from the day I learned I was pregnant with her to the day she died, I- ” She hesitated, remembering the look on Deanna’s face on the Enterprise when she found out only four years ago. “I kept her existence from her sister. It was foolish of me, I know that now, of course, but at the time, it seemed the only thing to do. Kestra was so full of joy.”
“Kids’re great that way.”
“I’m sure you both take great pride in Danielle and Simone,” Lwaxana said, referring to Nathan and Elaine’s two grown daughters, both of whom leapt to the forefront of the humans’ thoughts the instant Lwaxana started speaking of Kestra. “But it’s so much more with us. When you’re a telepath, you don’t just see the children’s happiness, you feel it.” She took a breath. “And you feel it even more when they die. So much so that it becomes much easier to deny reality than it is to actually deal with the death.”
Elaine leaned forward, untucking her legs, and putting a hand on Lwaxana’s arm. “I’m sorry. My husband’s an idiot; we can change the subject.”
“Hey!”
Mr. Homn virtually glided into the room, holding a tray in one giant hand, and offering Lwaxana a handkerchief with the other.
Lwaxana gratefully accepted the handkerchief, and dabbed her eyes to absorb the tears that were welling up. “Thank you, Mr. Homn. And it’s fine, Elaine; your husband isn’t an idiot.” She forced herself to smile. “No more than most men, anyhow.”
“Hey!”
Mr. Homn placed the tray on the glass coffee table that sat on the Eridat rug between the sofa and the conformer chair. Lwaxana immediately grabbed an oscoid shell and sucked down the luscious fish.
While she ate the oscoid, Mr. Homn tapped the side of the glass containing her sunet, turning the clear liquid to a many-hued drink that matched the sunsets on Samaria. Then the valet continued laying out the food.
Lwaxana continued. “It’s good to talk about it. To remind myself of what a fool I was. What I denied poor Deanna. And especially Ian. I never really gave him the chance to grieve for Kestra. Then he was taken from me…”
His distribution completed, Mr. Homn stood and looked inquisitively at Lwaxana. She sensed his thoughts: Will you need anything else?
“That’ll be all for now.” As the tall valet drifted out of the room, Lwaxana said to Nathan, “Wonderful servant, Mr. Homn.”
Elaine swallowed a leaf. “You were certainly right about his salad. How long has he been with you?”
“Since I was forced to fire his predecessor, Mr. Xelo. The man was thinking such foul, lascivious thoughts about me that I simply could not take it anymore, and- ” She cut herself off, closed her eyes. “No. No, that’s not fair. What was it I said about denying reality instead of dealing with death?” She took a long breath. “The fact is, I found out that Mr. Xelo had hidden away some keepsakes of Kestra’s. It was something he and Ian had done after she died, in the hopes that I would-come around. I found it one day when I was looking for something, and I-I blew up at him.” She snorted. “I almost fried his brain, the poor man. I got rid of everything he had kept and fired him on the spot. Then I made up that whole sexual thoughts nonsense. Well,” she added with a smile, “I didn’t make it up completely, he did have occasional thoughts in that direction, but it’s nothing I’m not accustomed to. Anyhow, he got rid of almost everything, and left. The only thing he saved was one picture of Ian, Deanna, and Kestra that I took right after Deanna was born. He gave it to Mr. Homn, and Mr. Homn gave it to me after I finally-finally admitted to Kestra’s existence.” Lwaxana dabbed her eye with the handkerchief once again.
Nathan carried a genuine regret for this entire line of questioning, and it was with that regret in his thoughts that he asked: “How did you meet Ian?” Or, rather, he asked, “Hm dud yuh mitt in?” since his mouth was full of corned beef, melted espra cheese, and bread when he did so.
All three people in the room felt a wave of relief at the change of subject. Lwaxana hadn’t intended this interview to be so-so heavy. “He was the head of the Starfleet team that installed our orbital defense grid. This was- ” she thought a moment “- forty-seven years ago. Such a darling man. Reittan Grax introduced us-he was the liaison between Strafleet and the parliament. And, if I do say so myself, my darling Ian did an excellent job. Our orbital defenses were the envy of the sector.”
“Bet they still are.”
“Well, probably not to the same extent.” Lwaxana immediately recalled the recent arguments in the parliament building, arguments in which she’d played a prominent role. So, for that matter, had Grax. “They’ve been talking about upgrading the system since the war started, which strikes me as a waste of time.”
“Why do you say that?”
A nontelepath might have taken umbrage at Nathan’s question, but Lwaxana knew that his query was without malice, simply an honest request for information. “What would be the point? They’ve even constructed shelters under the Loneel Mountains, as if we were already under siege. It’s just completely ridiculous, and I see no reason for us to get excessively paranoid. Why, even if the Dominion wanted to attack us-and I honestly can’t think of a good reason why they’d go after Betazed over some other Federation world-we’re protected by the Tenth Fleet. I’ve known Admiral Masc for years-he’s the head of the Tenth Fleet. He served with my daughter fifteen years ago. Good man, if a little too scared of commitment. Anyhow, he’ll protect us.”
“Scared of commitment-that certainly isn’t something that’d apply to you. You’ve been married, what, three times?”
“Strictly speaking, yes. I came close on a couple of other occasions-they’re both dead now. Campio died last year of natural causes, but he and I weren’t really-compatible. As for Timicin…” Lwaxana’s mind drifted, remembering the most beautiful mind she’d ever encountered. She’d known Timicin such a short time, and yet she felt his loss as keenly as she did that of Ian and Kestra. “Timicin was a great man, a scientist, a man of subdued passion.”
“Okay, you lost me there.”
Lwaxana chuckled. “I suppose that doesn’t really follow, does it? It’s hard to explain to a nontelepath, but he had a quiet intensity about him.” She took a refreshing sip of her sunset. All this talking was making her parched. “It’s funny, but if you asked me to describe what he looked like, I’m not sure I could, but I remember his mind so clearly.”
“Doesn’t that disturb you a little? That you can’t remember his face?”
Shrugging, Lwaxana said, “Well, it’s not that important. His face. You’re thinking like a mundane, dear. Looks aren’t everything-unless you’re me, of course. Somebody once told me, after we’d been married about five years, that Ian had a kind face. And once it was pointed out to me, I realized that it was true, but I’d never noticed that about him until then.”
“Interesting.” And, unlike when most humans used that word in such context, Nathan really did find it interesting. Lwaxana tensed as she prepared herself for his next question. “What about your other two husbands? A Tavnian named Jeyel and the changeling Odo. Which, by the way, makes you five for five-three husbands, two almosts-but-not-quites, and not a single Betazoid in the bunch.”
“Oh, there are a lot more than two almosts-but-not-quites,” she said with a laugh, thinking of Jean-Luc and so many others. “But, to answer the question you didn’t ask, I suppose I tend to gravitate toward non-Betazoids because they’re more of a challenge. There’s very little privacy on Betazed- “
“We know.” Nathan spoke with great emphasis, and Lwaxana saw in his thoughts how aghast he was when Elaine explained how few doors there were in Betazoid architecture.
“You have to understand, dear, we can see into each other’s thoughts. Physicality is hardly taboo when the mind is an open book. But that also means that with a Betazoid man, I pretty much always know what I’m going to get.”
“I know that you ended your marriage to Jeyel because of custody issues-why did you annul your subsequent marriage to Odo? Was it because of the war? After all, Odo may be on our side, but he is of the same species as the Dominion’s Founders.”
“Nathan, dear, I may be a politican, but I don’t do anything for political reasons. Life’s too short. No, Odo is a dear dear friend, and I wish him the- “
“I am dead.”
“Lwaxana?”
“Hm?”
“You cut yourself off. What do you wish him?” Nathan asked.
“I go into battle to reclaim my life.”
“I’m sorry, I thought I heard-something.”
“This I do gladly, for I am Jem’Hadar.”
“Anyhow, I know Odo and his friends on that space station of theirs are fighting the good fight in this war, and I’m sure they’ll lead us to- “
“Victory is life.”
“VICTORY IS LIFE!”
“Lwaxana? Lwaxana!”
Dimly, Lwaxana registered that she was now lying on the Eridat rug, having been suddenly overwhelmed by the thoughts of thousands of Jem’Hadar soldiers uttering their prebattle mantra simultaneously. Nathan and Elaine were standing over her.
The only way she could have sensed that many Jem’Hadar that clearly was if they were right on top of Betazed.
“They’re coming,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Who’s coming?”
Lwaxana ignored them, and focused all the energy she could on a telepathic cry to Kan Mryax, the woman in charge of maintaining the orbital defenses. They’re coming!
We’re already on it. We’ll take care of them.
Mryax’s thoughts were terse, and carried none of the confidence Lwaxana was hoping for.
“Lwaxana, what’s wrong?”
She finally focused on her two guests, who knew only that their host suddenly collapsed onto the rug in mid-sentence and started whispering gibberish. “I’m sorry, Nathan, Elaine, please-could you help me up?”
Before they could do anything, she felt the soothing presence of Mr. Homn entering the room, taking her gently by the shoulders, and guiding her to her feet.
“Thank you Mr. Homn. Please, go check on Barin.”
He nodded and took his leave.
“I’m afraid that the Dominion is attacking. They- “
Mryax grits her teeth as she activates the defense systems and sends out a general distress call. The phasers cannot penetrate the Jem’Hadar shields, and are doing only minimal damage to the Cardassian ones. The ships keep moving closer.
“Where the hell is the Tenth Fleet?”
Admiral Masc is in the midst of supervising a training exercise when the distress call comes in.
“Why the hell didn’t Intelligence warn us of this?”
A Vorta named Luaran basks in the ineffectiveness of Betazed’s orbital defenses. It is as the intelligence reports stated: Betazed is populated by pacifists and fools who, like so many other members of this weak Federation, believe themselves to live in a peaceful galaxy.
“How much longer before we can land troops?”
Gul Lemec’s smile grows as wide as his face. Ever since the embarrassing defeat at Minos Corva, he’s been waiting for an opportunity to conquer the Federation, and here he is at the vanguard of this invasion. This is the farthest the Dominion has penetrated into Federation space since the war started. He is going to enjoy subjugating these telepathic cowards…
“Bring us about for another pass!”
“Lwaxana, what’s happening?”
Shaking her head, Lwaxana tried to focus on Elaine and Nathan, but she couldn’t. Instead, she was assaulted by the eagerness of the Cardassian soldiers to stomp on the planet (such joy they took in being the conquerors), the zealous single-mindedness of the Jem’Hadar prepared to do their duty to their gods (truly the perfect soldiers, how could anyone stand against that?), the calm assurance of the Vorta directing the battle (so smug, so sure of themselves), the anger, embarrassment, and panic on the part of the Starfleet officers caught with their proverbial pants down (as well they should be, the dolts!)…
But most of all, she felt the rising panic of her fellow Betazoids.
“We’re being invaded.”
The look of horror on Elaine’s face matched her thoughts, which had turned decidedly dark-and frightened. “My God. We have to get to the shelters.”
“So much for excessive paranoia,” Nathan muttered.
Lwaxana barely registered Nathan’s snide comment as she felt Mryax scream in her mind. Orbital Defense Control fell to pieces all around her, consoles exploding, shrapnel tearing into her flesh, Dominion weaponry ripping into the defenses and reducing them to nothingness.
We’re being invaded! The Dominion (Hurry up!) is coming! Where is Starfleet? What’s (That’s impossible,) that noise? (the orbital defenses) The orbital defenses are down! (will stop them.) Did you hear something? We have to (What’s happening?) get to the shelters.
I can hear the Jem’Hadar (Starfleet’s on its way) the Cardassians (I can feel Admiral Masc.) oh no, they’re coming! Get to (Hurry! What was that?) the shelters. Do you (Don’t worry, I’m sure the orbital defenses and Starfleet) sense something? (can stop them easily. It’s what) We’ve got to get (they do, protect us from threats.) out of here before they-
“I have Barin. We must go.”
The soft, whisper-like voice of Mr. Homn cut through the telepathic chatter and got Lwaxana’s attention. The valet carried the child with his left arm. The boy was sound asleep, resting against Mr. Homn’s massive shoulder. In the other hand, Mr. Homn held a suitcase.
Elaine looked up in shock at Mr. Homn. “He talks?”
Lwaxana forced down the voices in her head, even as they rose to an appalling crescendo. “Of course he talks, dear.”
Nathan muttered, “Probably just can’t get a word in. We need to get to those shelters.”
“Agreed,” Lwaxana said. “I just hope you packed enough, Mr. Homn. Though it shouldn’t be too long. I can sense Admiral Masc getting closer. I’m sure he’ll take care of everything in very short order. Those Dominion reptiles won’t be able to stand against- “
“Fire on the capital city now.”
“Oh no…”
The ground shook, knocking Lwaxana to the floor. She reached out mentally to see how her son was, but Barin was still asleep. She had joked just the other day that the sweet child could sleep through anything. Now it seemed that would be put to the test.
Lwaxana focused all her concentration, all her thoughts, all her energy on keeping her telepathic shields up. Normally, she didn’t concern herself with the background noise of all the minds around her, but now it was everything she could do to keep them out. Because if she didn’t…
… she could feel the white-hot agony of one woman as shrapnel from an explosion ripped through her torso…
… the fear of one man as he lost track of his son in the suddenly panicking crowds in the midst of the capital city who found the sky filled with Jem’Hadar strike ships…
… the dying minds of the hundreds of people in the nearby Art Institute as it was hit with weapons fire, obliterating entire floors of the ancient structure that had stood for centuries…
… the screams of the dying…
… the fear of the living…
… the pain of the injured and maimed…
… the sound of the weapons fire mixing with the rending of matter under its onslaught…
… the screams of everyone around her…
… Barin, waking up and wondering why the world was coming apart…
… Nathan, the ceiling collapsing right on his head, caving in his skull, his final thoughts of his children, whom he’d never see again…
… Elaine, the wall falling against her back, knocking her to the floor, shattering her spine, her last, lingering thoughts of how Nathan will get along without her…
… Mr. Homn, calmly interposing his body between the destruction of the house and little Barin, to the end his only thoughts those of protecting the child in his care…
… and then, unable to hold it in anymore, Lwaxana screamed and screamed and screamed…
… then nothing.
“There are survivors down here!”
Lwaxana felt the presence of the medic before seeing her. An Andorian, a medical student on Betazed to spend time with her mother, a teacher at the Art Institute, now volunteering to help in the rescue endeavors.
She opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by pieces of her home. Tatters of the Eridat rug-the rug that Lwaxana’s great-great-grandmother had commissioned specially as a wedding present for her son, Lwaxana’s great-grandfather- mixed in with shreds of amra skin and other pieces of building material that had been constructed hundreds of years ago, combining the finest elements of Dantric and Torinese in a unique way that was now lost forever. She did not have to look to know that the vase Deanna had given her for her birthday right before she left for the university, the patterned mantelpiece that Ian had designed and had built specially for her when they moved in, the magnificent kitchen that she had had redone for Mr. Homn five years ago, not to mention the Sacred Chalice of Rixx and the Holy Rings of Betazed, were all lost.
But those were things. Of greater import were the people. Her first action was to reach out to Barin’s mind, to make sure that her son was still alive.
It was easy to do. Along with the Andorian woman, who called herself Thriss, and a few other rescue volunteers, it was the only mind she found.
Thriss managed to shift a piece of rubble off of Lwaxana’s leg. Until then, she hadn’t even registered that the rubble was there. Behind her, another volunteer, a Betazoid named Jeea, was holding Barin, going over him with one of those tricorder things that Starfleet was always playing with. The child was crying, poor dear. Lwaxana was amazed that she herself wasn’t doing likewise.
Thriss had a tricorder of her own. “I’m reading more DNA traces. There may be more survivors.”
“The- ” Lwaxana cut herself off and started coughing. Her throat was raw, and her tongue felt like it was coated in dirt. Thriss handed her a bottle of water, which Lwaxana hungrily gulped down the bulk of.
“There aren’t any.” Even with the water, her voice sounded whispery and hollow.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I have to be sure- “
Lwaxana grabbed the Andorian child’s arm. “There aren’t any others. Don’t you understand, you stupid girl, I felt them die!”
“Ma’am, I- “
“They were guests in my house! I was feeding them lunch and we were just talking and then they came and the house was destroyed and they died! Have you ever felt someone die inside your mind? Have you?”
Quietly, Thriss said, “No, I haven’t. I’m sorry.”
“You’re lucky, then.”
“Right now, ma’am, none of us is lucky. We have to get you to one of the shelters. The Jem’Hadar ground troops are focusing on the city right now- “
“- but they’ll be getting to the outskirts soon enough,” Lwaxana finished. She could feel the single-minded clarity of the Jem’Hadar soldiers, matched only by the bloodthirstiness of the Cardassians. She found, bizarrely, that she preferred the Jem’Hadar. “We have to go.”
Lwaxana, you’re alive!
Enaren? Lwaxana was grateful to hear the thoughts of Cort Enaren. If her cousin survived, perhaps other members of Betazed’s parliament did as well.
Yes, I’m still alive, though many are not. Sark, Damira, little Cort, and I are heading to the Loneel shelters. Enaren was referring to his son, daughter-in-law, and infant grandson. We should be able to hide from the Jem’Hadar indefinitely there.
Don’t be silly, we won’t need to hide indefinitely, just until Starfleet takes care of these Dominion creatures.
I hope you’re right, Lwaxana. I’ll see you soon.
Jeea handed Barin over to Lwaxana. “He’ll be fine. I was able to clear his lungs of the dust.”
“Thank you.”
The group proceeded up the hill that was just down the road from Lwaxana’s house toward a group of ground vehicles parked atop that selfsame hill. Lwaxana was holding the coughing Barin in her arms. She took one glance back at the wreckage of the house she had lived in for so long, the house she raised Deanna in.
When this is over, I’ll give all three of you a proper burial, I promise.
The vehicle looked like it was about a hundred years old. Even though she saw the answer in Thriss’s thoughts, she had to ask the question. “We’re taking one of those?”
“We’re not-you are,” the Andorian said. “We still have several more places to check out. Don’t worry- “
“I understand, dear. Go, do what you have to do.” Lwaxana read the details in Thriss’s mind. The vehicles were preprogrammed to take any passengers to the shelters, and ground vehicles were necessary because they were less likely to draw the attention of the Jem’Hadar strike ships. The vehicle had massive treaded wheels that Lwaxana assumed allowed them to drive through the forests surrounding the Loneel Mountains.
“Good luck to you, ma’am,” Thriss said, then moved on with Jeea and the rest of her team, determined to save more lives.
Lwaxana couldn’t help but admire her dedication. We’ll need people like this in the days ahead, once Starfleet drives these monsters out of here.
“Don’t worry about me, dear,” she called after them, mustering up her confidence. “I’m a Daughter of the Fifth House. I survived the Sindareen raids, I survived three childbirths, I’ll survive this. This is a terrible day, it’s true, but Betazed will survive. I’m sure of that.”
“I hope you’re right,” Thriss said, mirroring Enaren’s thoughts, as she and her team continued with their rescue efforts.
“Of course I am.”
Lwaxana assumed that the dust in the air would dissipate as she moved farther from the house, but it didn’t. If anything, it grew worse as she walked up the incline. Her eyes welled with tears, and her throat still felt like several layers of sandpaper.
When she reached the groundcar at the top of the hill, she got a good look at the capital city.
Or, rather, what was left of it.
With her eyes, she saw smoking ruins in places where buildings that were built before Betazed joined the Federation once stood. The Parliament House where she had just last week argued against the planetary defense upgrades was on fire and half-destroyed. Byram Hall, the gorgeous neo-Valdane-style structure where she and Ian had their wedding was nothing but a cloud of dust. And small ships of Dominion design flew through the air, firing on more buildings.
With her mind, she felt the pain of the injured and the cries of the dying and the brutality of their attackers as they roamed the streets.
Eventually, she was able to turn her eyes away.
Turning her mind away proved more difficult. But she managed it.
The door to the groundcar opened at her approach. She climbed in, placing Barin, still coughing, on the far seat, then taking the near one for herself. Straps came out of the sides of the chair to hold her and her son in place.
“Number of passengers?” the computer asked.
“Two.”
“We will arrive in seventeen minutes,” the computer said as the door closed.
Within five of those seventeen minutes, they were traversing the forest, and Lwaxana could no longer see the wreckage of the capital city. Twelve minutes after that, the groundcar arrived at the fistrium-laden crevasse that hid the entrance to the shelters from view.
Silently, she brought Barin in through the entrance, down a corridor that had been carved out from the cooled volcanic rock into the tunnels beneath the mountains. The fistrium would keep them invisible to Dominion sensors until the way was clear.
Halfway down, she stumbled, overwhelmed by the thoughts that pounded past her shields.
Where is Olfran? (The screams,) My arm! (I can’t drown out the screams,) I can’t feel my legs, (why can’t they stop screaming?) what happened to my legs? (Cardassian bastards,) I saw her die (I remember fighting them in the war,) right in front of me. (it just figures they’d get in bed) Where’s Starfleet? (with those Jem’Hadar monsters.) What happened (It’s gone, all gone.) to the planetary defenses? I spent all my life living there, (Has anyone seen Marit?) I built that house, (Why do they want us?) and now it’s been destroyed.
“Lwaxana!”
Shaking her head, Lwaxana turned and saw the haggard face of her cousin. “Enaren. Are you all right?” Behind him was another person Lwaxana didn’t recognize, but read her name as Mara.
“Not especially. Damira’s hurt, and we’re running out of space down here. Sark’s gone off to explore some more tunnels.”
“Let me take little Barin,” Mara said. Lwaxana saw in her thoughts that they had set up a section for the children. Risking casting her mind outward, she felt the thoughts of the youths. Interestingly enough, they were less panicked than the adults-though many of them, especially the younger ones, didn’t really understand what was happening. Some even thought this was a simple adventure.
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Lwaxana said as Mara took Barin off. “I’m sure Starfleet will- “
And then she felt it. Through the panic of the Betazoids in the shelter. Through the pain of the Betazoids still trapped on the surface, not to mention the non-Betazoid visitors who, like Nathan, like Elaine, like Thriss and her mother, came to Betazed thinking it one of the garden spots of the Federation, a place that was safe from the strife of the war. Through the bloody single-mindedness of the Jem’Hadar and Cardassian soldiers and their Vorta leaders.
Through all that, Lwaxana felt the thoughts of Admiral Masc, ordering the Tenth Fleet into retreat.
“Send a message to Starfleet,” the admiral was telling one of his other officers. “Betazed has fallen to the Dominion.”
Betazed has fallen.
In less than an hour, Lwaxana lost her home, her valet, her possessions, her world-everything, except her son. She had gone from having almost everything she could ask for to almost nothing. And what little she had was now in the hands of the Federation’s enemy.
For the first time, she began to understand what it was that Deanna, Will, Jean-Luc, and the rest of Starfleet had been facing for the last year. Oh, little one, I had no idea…
We should have been safe, she thought stubbornly. Our defenses should have been enough. But she was unable to cling to that thought, as the memory of Mryax’s horrible death as the Dominion forces tore through their half-a-century-old orbital defenses like tissue paper forced its way into her thoughts.
She realized that she had been just as delusional as those children who thought they were on an adventure.
Betazed had fallen.
Mr. Homn was dead. So were Nathan and Elaine and so many more.
Starfleet was not coming their rescue, at least not right away, but that didn’t mean they were helpless. I am the Daugther of the Fifth House, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed, and I will not be defeated.
She turned to Enaren. “Gather up as many people as you can, Cort. We need to start organizing.”
“Organizing?”
“You’re damn right. We’re about to form the Betazoid resistance. We’ll show the Dominion that taking a world and holding it are two completely different things.”