"Besides," his friend said sympathetically, "it sounds like you've got enough to worry about."
Captain Picard touched a pad on his keyboard and eyed the monitor just above it. Instantly, the screen displayed the shuttle diagnostics he had ordered several minutes earlier.
Right on time, he thought. But then, he had served with Commander La Forge for a long time, and he knew no one was more punctual.
Normally, Picard wouldn't have been quite so concerned about shuttlecraft readiness. However, according to the information he had received from the Enterprise's computer, Xhaldia's atmosphere was rife with energy fields which would disrupt normal transporter operation-or subspace radio waves, for that matter.
The shuttles were by no means as efficient an option as the transporters would have been. The captain would be limited in terms of how many security officers he could deploy to the planet's surface, and how quickly. However, he would have to make do.
Just then, he heard the chimes that signified the presence of a visitor outside his ready room. He leaned back in his chair and faced the door.
"Come," Picard said.
A moment later, the door opened, revealing Commander Riker. But as the first officer entered the room, Picard saw the man wasn't alone.
Storm walked in after him. Then came Banshee and Wolverine. One by one, the X-Men took up positions on the opposite side of Picard's desk, each with the same determined expression on his or her face.
"They wanted to see you, sir," said Riker.
The captain nodded. "Thank you, Number One." He turned to the mutants. "Would any of you like a seat?"
Storm shook her head. "No. Thank you."
Resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair, Picard made a steeple of his fingers. "All right, then. What can I do for you?"
Banshee looked to Storm. So did Wolverine.
"Go ahead, 'Ro," said the mutant in the mask.
Storm regarded the captain. "It is very simple," she said. "We would like to help."
Picard didn't understand. "Help ... ?" he replied.
"On Xhaldia," said Banshee.
The captain nodded. "I see."
However, it wasn't clear to him how his guests had gotten wind of the situation there. His orders to the crew wouldn't be posted for half an hour.
Riker looked at him. Obviously, he had the same question on his mind.
The first officer turned to the X-Men. "Tell me," he said, "how did you know about that?"
Storm shrugged. "Shadowcat was on her way somewhere when she overheard two of your officers in conversation. However, she told me she was not eavesdropping and I am inclined to believe her."
"What's it matter how we know?" asked Wolverine. "Like Ororo says, we wanna lend a hand."
"Y'see," Banshee explained, "these transformed ... we feel a kinship with 'em. We were like 'em once, changin' in ways we did nae understand."
"Fortunately for us," Shadowcat added, "we had Professor Xavier. He gave us a direction."
Storm nodded. "But it is unlikely that there is a Charles Xavier on Xhaldia. The transformed will be scared, confused ... and, unless I am very mistaken, hated and feared for what they have become."
"Someone needs t' reach out to 'em," Banshee elaborated. "I know I'm doing it back home." He smiled in his charming, homey way. "Someone needs t' give these kids a leg up, before they hurt someone or get hurt themselves. An' since we're here, it'd be a shame t' give anyone else th' job."
"In other words," Picard replied, "you would like to offer your services in dealing with the transformed on Xhaldia."
"In other words," said Wolverine, "yet darn tootin' we would."
The captain weighed the request. "You know," he replied at last, "I generally depend on Counselor Troi in matters of empathy, and she has yet to fail me in that regard."
Storm frowned. "No doubt. But there is a difference between knowing how someone feels and how someone is going to feel."
"Tell 'im, 'Ro," said Wolverine.
"We can deal with the transformed based on years of experience," the silver-haired woman went on. "Your counselor may sense their initial shock, but she cannot know the despair that is likely to follow in its wake. Or the self-loathing. Or the bitterness."
"And, the transformed could be dangerous," Wolverine pointed out. "In a way yer not used ta dealin' with. But we are."
"That's a fact," Banshee agreed.
As Picard considered the X-Men's comments, he eyed his first officer. "What do you think, Number One?"
"You know," said Riker, "they have a point, sir. In all deference to Counselor Troi and our security team, they do have more experience with this sort of thing."
The captain regarded the mutants. "Normally, I don't allow my guests to take part in Starfleet business. In this case, however, you appear to have a genuinely unique insight into the condition of the transformed."
"Just like I was tellin' ya," said Wolverine.
"Also," said Picard, "I have seen you and your comrades in action-and in a situation as serious as this one, I would be foolish not to arm myself every way possible."
Banshee grinned. "Then we're partners?"
Picard shook his head. "Not nearly."
Wolverine's eyes narrowed. "But you said-"
"I will call on you," the captain told him, "only if and when I deem it necessary-and even in that event, you will obey my every directive."
The mutant didn't look at all happy with Picard's answer.
But Wolverine's reaction didn't faze the captain in the least. "I command this vessel," he continued evenly, "and I will brook no other arrangement."
Banshee's smile faded a bit. "We're used t' operatin'on our own, y'know. That's th' way we're most effective."
Picard nodded. "I understand completely-but it doesn't change anything. If you hope to participate in our mission, you must take your cue from me. There is no alternative."
The muscles worked in Wolverine's temples. Banshee's smile disappeared altogether. But it was Storm who finally replied.
"If those are your terms," she said with equanimity, "we accept."
Chapter Eighteen.
PICARD CONSIDERED THE tiny, blue-green sphere pictured on the viewscreen in front of him. The planet was hardly bigger than the pinpricks of light that served as a backdrop for it.
"Xhaldia," said Riker, who was sitting in his customary position on the captain's right.
Picard nodded. Then he looked to his left, where Counselor Troi was leaning forward in her seat, a tiny knot of concentration at the bridge of her delicately chiseled nose.
With the planet still a good several hours away at full impulse, the Betazoid would be unable to sense anything about the Xhaldians or their current situation. Her empathic talents simply didn't extend that far.
Nonetheless, Troi remained intent on the forward viewscreen. Despite the vast distance between the Enterprise and her destination, the counselor instinctively continued to reach out, attempting to feel what the embattled Xhaldians were feeling.
Fortunately, subspace radio wasn't nearly as limited as Troi's empathic abilities. At this distance, it would only take a few seconds for a message to reach Xhaldia.
"Lt. Sovar," said the captain. "Open a channel to Chancellor Amon."
"Aye, sir," the security officer replied.
Data, who was seated at Ops, turned to face Picard. He had a puzzled expression on his face.
"Sir," he said, "there appears to be a vessel in orbit around Xhaldia."
"A vessel?" Picard repeated. He eyed the viewscreen with new interest. "Why have we only now discovered this, Commander?"
"Judging from its position and the likelihood of a geosynchronous orbit," said the android, "it was probably hidden from us by the planet."
The captain frowned. This was an unanticipated complication.
"Maybe the Xhaldians requested assistance from someone else," Riker suggested.
Picard shook his head. "Not likely, Will. The Breen are the only other presence in this part of space-and I don't think the Xhaldians called on them for help."
His exec grunted. "Good point, sir."
The captain turned to his android second officer again.
"Maximum magnification, Mr. Data."
A moment later, the image on the viewscreen seemed to jump closer to them-close enough to display a huge, rust-colored ship against a cloud-covered sweep of the planet's surface.
Picard scrutinized the vessel. It was wide and relatively flat, with long, boxlike nacelles above and below it on either side, and its topsides were rife with a variety of impressive-looking weapon clusters.
It was possible the ship's crew wasn't especially warlike. But in the captain's experience, vessels didn't bristle with weaponry unless their occupants were eager to use it.
Picard glanced at Riker. "I've never seen this design before, Number One. Have you?"
"No, sir," said his first officer.
Data worked his Ops controls. "I am unable to find a match for it in our computer files."
"Captain," said Sovar, "I cannot seem to raise Chancellor Amon. There appears to be a malfunction in the communications booster satellite."
"Try another one," Picard told him.
"I have, sir," the Xhaldian assured him, an undercurrent of concern in his voice. "None of them seems to be working."
The captain sat back in his seat and considered the evidence. An unexpected and hostile-looking ship in orbit around the planet. A malfunction in its only link to the outside universe. And all at a time when Xhaldian civilization was wracked by unprecedented chaos.
It could hardly have been a coincidence. The more Picard thought about it, the more it sounded like a premeditated act of aggression.
But how could the aggressors have known this would be a propitious time to attack? Did they have some insight into the emergence of the transformed? Or had they simply been scanning Xhaldia, waiting for the right moment-and seen the opportunity handed to them on a platter?
So many questions. So few answers.
The captain stroked his chin. "Yellow alert," he said at last. "Shields up, Mr. Sovar."
"Aye, sir," came the response.
All over the ship, crewmen would be reporting to their section chiefs. Tactical systems would be checked. Silent glances would be exchanged by friends and colleagues.
But nothing would happen for several hours. After all, they had only recently passed the outermost world in the Antiacus system.
Picard wanted desperately to hurry, to come to the Xhaldians' assistance just a little sooner. He could have managed that by activating the Enterprise's warp drive-but it was too dangerous to go to warp so close to a star and its planets.
Normally, the captain would have sat there as patiently as he could, while the Enterprise homed in on beleaguered Xhaldia. However, he had some business to attend to.
"You've got the bridge," he told Riker. "I believe our guests will want to know what is going on."
Chapter Nineteen.
PICARD LOOKED AROUND the lounge, one of the smaller ones on Deck Seven. The X-Men were all present.
"Since you have offered to help with the situation on Xhaldia," he said, "I thought you should know that it has changed. There is a vessel in orbit around the planet."
"A vessel fulla who?" asked Wolverine. "Friends or enemies?"