Prologue

DEANNATROIwrenched herself free from the nightmare with an unaccustomed force of will, gasping for breath. She sat

bolt upright in bed, disoriented and confused. She could feel the dampness on her skin and on the twisted sheets, but

it wasn’t her sweat, and the accelerated pulse rate she seemed to feel was not that of her heart. In fact, it hadn’t

even been her dream, and the force of will that had exerted its iron control to wrench her out of it was not her

will.

 

Had she been fully human, Deanna Troi might have felt frightened and confused by such a strange and powerful

experience, but she was half Betazoid, and Betazoids had a more profound understanding of the phenomenon of empathy

than humans did. Humans were certainly capable of empathy, but not to the same extent as Betazoids, whose senses and

levels of psychic awareness were much more developed and fine-tuned than those of humans. Being half human, however,

Deanna experienced a brief moment of fear and disorientation. Then she realized what had happened and was up and

running toward the door, pausing only long enough to pull on her robe.

 

As she ran barefoot down the deck’s long, curving corridor, she quickly noted that it was still night watch, for the

corridor was illuminated in a soft red glow. Beyond the night-watch lighting, Deanna had no clear idea of the time.

She hadn’t paused to check; she had simply reacted instantly to the profound empathic link she’d just experienced.

She knew whose dream she had shared.

 

She was capable of forging an empathic link with any member of theEnterprise crew, but only one man had a force of

will so strong that a link could be formed spontaneously, unconsciously, and with such force and intensity. She

stopped at the door to the captain’s quarters and pressed the small panel that activated the chime inside.

 

The door slid open, and from within she heard a weary yet strong and resonant voice say, “Come.” She entered, and the

door automatically slid shut behind her. It was dark in the captain’s quarters, but there was light coming from the

bedroom. Deanna hesitated. “Captain?” she said uncertainly. “Captain, are you all right?”

 

“A moment, Counselor, and I shall be right with you,” he replied, from the bedroom.

 

She stood and waited, moistening her lips nervously. The effects of the empathic link were now diminished, and her

heart was no longer racing. She gathered her energies and centered her concentration, allowing a calm to descend upon

her. She brushed her dark hair back away from her face and checked to see that her robe was properly belted. Then the

light came on, and Captain Jean-Luc Picard entered the room.

 

He had put on a short robe, but his feet were bare. Otherwise, except for his somewhat haggard expression, he

appeared every bit the commanding presence he always was on the bridge of the starshipEnterprise.

 

“May I offer you something to drink, Counselor?” he said. “My throat feels a bit dry.”

 

“Perhaps some water.” Deanna sensed that the captain still felt some distress, but was trying to conceal it.

 

He got each of them a glass of water.

 

“You know why I am here, of course,” she said.

 

He nodded. “Please, sit down, Deanna.”

 

His unaccustomed use of her first name gave her some comfort. While not a stickler for military protocol, Picard

usually addressed his crew members formally. His use of her first name indicated that he wished this to be an

informal discussion. And a private one.

 

“It seems I have unwittingly alarmed you,” he said. “Please accept my sincere apologies. It was merely a nightmare,

nothing more.”

 

“With all due respect, Captain,” she replied, “it was much more thanmerely a nightmare. What I felt was far more

profound.”

 

He pursed his lips thoughtfully, then nodded. “Very well. How much did you feel, and exactly what did you sense?”

 

She paused a moment to consider her reply. “I sensed … fear. Profound anxiety. A sense of helplessness and loss

of control. Almost … panic. All emotions I generally do not associate with you.”

 

He nodded and took a sip of water. “A forced empathic link,” he said. “Unconscious on my part, of course. I would

never do that consciously; I hope you realize that.”

 

“I do,” replied Deanna. She hesitated. “I also realize that what happened was very unusual and, in a way, constituted

a subconscious call for help.”

 

“Was it only my feelings that you shared, or did you experience the dream, itself?” Picard asked.

 

Deanna had to stop and think about that. It had all happened so quickly and she had reacted so instantaneously that

there hadn’t been time to analyze exactly what she had picked up. “Only the feelings,” she said after a moment. “If I

experienced any part of your dream, I cannot recall it now.”

 

He nodded once again. “Just as well,” he said.

 

“However, everything is fine now. I appreciate your concern and your timely response, and I apologize once again for

having unconsciously impinged upon your rest.”

 

“Perhaps it would help if we discussed the dream.” Deanna didn’t like to push, and though she knew the captain valued

her counsel, he was and always had been a very private person. She had never experienced a forced empathic link with

him before, and the fact that it had happened argued strongly in favor of discussing what had prompted it, even if he

was reluctant to do so.

 

“I really don’t think that will be necessary,” he replied with a smile that seemed to her forced. “I have disturbed

you enough for one night. I am perfectly fine, I assure you.”

 

He was not entirely convincing, however, and Deanna sensed that the dream was still bothering him. “Sir,” she said

uneasily, “I sense that your dream disturbed you greatly, and you are not generally disturbed by nightmares. I

strongly suggest that we discuss it.”

 

He seemed about to protest, then reconsidered. “Very well, Counselor,” he said, reverting to formal address, a direct

reaction to her reminding him of her role aboard the ship. He drank the remainder of his water and set the glass

down. “I dreamed that I had lost control of this ship,” he said. “The dream itself was somewhat disjointed, as dreams

often are, so I cannot describe the exact circumstances. However, through some error or malfeasance on my part, I

exposed the crew to grave danger, and I was utterly helpless to do anything about it.”

 

“What sort of danger?” asked Deanna.

 

Picard compressed his lips into a tight grimace. “I cannot say,” he replied. “I only know that through some action,

or perhaps inaction, I lost control of the ship, and my crew… .” He frowned and shook his head. “Something

terrible was happening to the crew, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. I felt a strong sense of

impending disaster, and there seemed to be a heavy weight on my shoulders.” He smiled suddenly. “Doubtless the

symbolic burden of my responsibilities.” He shrugged, attempting to minimize the importance of the dream. “It was

merely a stress reaction, nothing more. I imagine this sort of dream comes frequently to those in command.”

 

“Perhaps, sir,” she replied, “but it does not come frequently to you. I have seen how you react under stress. We have

both been in situations where the stress was considerable, and you have never reacted with fear or panic.”

 

“Well, Counselor, I am only human, after all,” Picard said, with a self-deprecating smile.

 

“You are a human who has never been known to panic in any situation,” she replied. “Panic is simply not in your

nature. Such a response is an anomaly. And you have never before had any dreams or feelings, either conscious or

subconscious, strong enough to trigger a forced empathic link. It is a highly profound and unusual occurrence, even

among Betazoids. With all due respect, Captain, this dream cannot be dismissed casually.” She seemed to sense

something, a brief impression, a guarded one, then just as suddenly it was gone. She decided to pursue it. “Tell me,

sir, have you ever had a precognitive dream?”

 

Picard grimaced. “There is not much point in trying to keep anything from you, is there?” he replied.

 

“Sir, it is not my intention to be intrusive, but my role aboard this ship is”

 

“Yes, yes, I know,” Picard replied impatiently. “Forgive me, Counselor, I am annoyed with myself, not with you. There

are some thingsss I am hesitant oo discuss with anyone, things of a private nature. However, where they may concern

the safety of the ship and its crew, I should not shy away from them.”

 

“So the answer is yes,” she said.

 

Picard nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I have had precognitive dreams, but only twice before.”

 

“And in those rare occurrences, did the dreams come true?” she asked, pressing him in spite of her natural

reluctance.

 

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, they did. One involved the death of my mother. I dreamed that she came to me to say

good-bye. The next day I found out she had died during the night. She had been ill for quite some time. The other one

… well, I would really rather not discuss that.”

 

Deanna nodded. “The important thing is that you have had precognitive dreams.”

 

“A coincidence,” Picard said.

 

“The first dream concerned your mother, with whom you naturally had a strong empathic link. I am not so much

concerned with the details of the second dream, but would I be correct in assuming that it also involved someone with

whom you had a strong empathic link?”

 

“Yes,” Picard said. “You would be correct in assuming that.”

 

“You have a strong empathic link with the members of your crew,” she continued. “Some more than others, but the

welfare of everyone on board is of paramount concern to you.”

 

“What are you suggesting, Counselor?”

 

“That it may be important for you to try to recall the details of tonight’s dream,” she said.

 

Picard took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, then shook his head. “I cannot. For a moment after I awoke, there

was something …”

 

“What was it?” she asked. “Try to remember.”

 

“Lightning,” Picard said suddenly, a strange expression on his face.

 

Deanna frowned. “Lightning?”

 

Picard shook his head. “It was a fleeting image… . I’m afraid I have no idea what it means.”

 

“This disturbs you,” she said.

 

“Yes, it does,” he admitted. “We have made a great many strides in science and technology, but we are only beginning

to understand the human mind. I am tempted to dismiss this as merely a nightmare, something of no consequence, but

the fact that it has happened before …”

 

“Perhaps if you try to remember … ?” she said.

 

“It’s no use,” Picard said. “Whatever it was, I can recall only what I told you.”

 

“If it should happen again”

 

“I will call you,” said Picard. “And now you really should go back to bed and get some rest. We are both due to go on

duty in another few hours, and I have disturbed you enough for one night.”

 

She nodded and got to her feet. “With your permission, then, I will say good night.”

 

“Good night, Deanna,” he said. “Sleep well.”

 

She looked at him curiously. “And you,” she said.

 

Deanna Troi went back to her room and got back into bed, but sleep eluded her.