Picard's finger automatically paged through to get an idea of the length of the ceremony. He sighed inwardly. About thirty pages. This is going to take a while.
As required, he stretched out his right arm in the gesture of a benediction. "Good people! All who are assembled this day in the sight of the gods of the Tizarin--the only real and true pantheon of gods in the cosmos..." He paused and glanced at the fathers. Graziunas shrugged slightly.
Nistral offered a game half-smile.
Stay in the spirit of it, Picard told himself.
"... in the cosmos," he continued, "are brought here to witness the sanctification of this place," and he gestured widely to encompass the entire holodeck scene. "It must be duly sanctified and cleansed, so that the spirits of matrimony and childbirth can enter this place and bless the wedding." "If they can stand the humidity," murmured Fenn.
Nistral moaned. "Mother!" whispered Sehra between clenched teeth. "I told you..." "Sorry," whispered Fenn back.
"Computer, reduce humidity by thirty percent," Picard said briskly. Fenn nodded her appreciation.
"I knew she'd cause problems," Kerin murmured.
"Kerin, she's my mother," Sehra shot back.
"Yeah, I know." "Excuse me," said Picard, flipping the pages. "But we have a good deal of ground to cover.
May we continue?" "By all means, Captain," said Nistral.
Picard cleared his throat and said loudly, "All of the assemblage will bear witness to the good feelings that pervade this place. To the affection.
To the devotion. To the deep and abiding love between this man and this woman. For this love is too powerful to suffer any evil spirits to survive. This love will last throughout eternity. From now through old age and beyond..." Kerin made a slight noise. It was hard to tell exactly what it was. Not so much a moan, or a gasp. More of a slight choke.
Nothing really. Nothing at all.
Unless, of course, someone was listening for it.
Sehra turned to him and said, "What do you mean by that?" "By what?" "That noise you just made." Graziunas took a step forward and said in a low, embarrassed tone, "Sehra, there's people here." "I want to know what that noise was he just made." "I didn't make a noise!" said Kerin in exasperation. "I was just clearing my throat." Now Nistral came towards them. "He just cleared his throat, Sehra. That's all." "Well, naturally you would take his side," said Sehra.
"Gentlemen, ladies," began Picard, now quite annoyed. "We're supposed to be making certain that the site of tomorrow's marriage is going to be harmonious. If there is some sort of problem, could it be settled elsewhere and elsewhen?" "There's no problem, Captain," Kerin said.
He fired a look at Sehra. "Is there, Sehra?" "I will thank you," Fenn said crisply, "not to take that tone of voice with my daughter!" "What tone of voice?" Nistral said. "The boy didn't do anything wrong, and I see no reason why you and that daughter of yours keep carping on him!" "That daughter of hers, Nistral, is also a daughter of mine," said Graziunas sharply. "And if anyone should be reconsidering tones of voice, it's you." Picard closed the book with the sound of a cannon shot. "That's it. This goes no further. You obviously--" "My tone of voice is perfectly within acceptable limits," Nistral said, "which is more than I can say for you. You've never known how to curb your excesses, Graziunas. Never." "My excesses!" snapped Graziunas.
Kerin turned on Sehra. "Look, if you have a problem with me, I don't see why you have to drag your parents into it!" "I don't have to drag my parents anywhere," said Sehra fiercely. "They go where they please and do what they please." "Then, maybe I should do the same thing!" "Oh, of course!" said Sehra, throwing up her hands. "Because once you're tied down to me, you can never go anywhere or do anything again, isn't that right!" "Yes, that's right!" shot back Kerin, now only a couple of inches away from her.
The guests were milling about in confusion. There was no confusion, however, for the wedding parties of the respective houses. They started drifting towards their house leaders, their faces set and determined.
"If this does not stop instantly, I shall call security!" thundered Picard.
His was a voice in the wind, blown away by the torrent of emotions that had been kept submerged but were now bubbling, fully, to the surface.
"You'll never be able to see other women! That's what's really eating at you, isn't it!" snapped Sehra.
"No!" retorted Kerin. "It's that I'm going to have to see you at all!" Sehra stepped back as if struck. And now Graziunas stepped forward, snarling, "You little cretin! How dare you--to was "He was provoked is how he dares!" shouted Nistral. The veins against his silver forehead were starting to stand out. "She's a master of provocation, Graziunas. She gets it from her father!" Riker was trying to get between them. "That's enough!" he snapped, with as much authority as he could muster. But it was like trying to stop a tidal wave with a sponge.
Picard tapped his communicator.
"Security team to Holodeck 3, immediately." "I've never provoked anything in my life!" Graziunas bellowed.
"What? You're joking! What about when you undersold me in that deal with the Byfrexians!" "Undersold you, my ass! I can't help it if you were overpriced for the same goods!" "You sold at less than profit just to get back at me," said Nistral furiously, "because I landed the entire Skeevo system! That stuck in your craw!" And now one of the members of the Nistral shouted, "Everyone knows that you can't trust the Graziunas!" "If anyone knows about untrustworthiness, it's Nistral," shouted back one of the Graziunas.
"If they want to see a double-crosser, all they have to do is look in the mirror!" "Parasites!" "Cheaters!" "I can't believe you're letting this happen!" wailed Sehra at Kerin.
"Me! You started it!" "I didn't!" "You did!" Security charged in, Worf at the head.
Their weapons were drawn. They started looking around in confusion, unsure of what to do because everyone was shouting at once. The air was filled with insults, shouting, and fury.
"I'm glad!" Nistral was shouting. "I'm glad this happened, before my son got stuck with a humorless harridan like your daughter--to was He actually only got the beginning of the word daughter out, because Graziunas had swung a furious punch that caught Nistral square in the mouth. The leader of the house of Nistral went down flat on his back, clutching at his injured jaw.
The security team started forward, now focussed on something they could deal with. Before they could get there, however, Kerin had leaped forward and landed square on the back of Graziunas. Graziunas turned, grabbing at his back, trying to pry off the boy who was pounding on his skull, but before he could get to him, another member of the Nistral had smashed into his legs. Sehra screamed as her father went down and she jumped towards a random aggressor, swinging her hands forward and clawing at his face.
Within seconds there were a good thirty people slamming into each other, pushing and shoving and falling over one another in a frenetic free-for-all that was as appalling as it was unexpected. All were screaming epithets. Disputes long forgotten were being dredged up for the sole purpose of providing excuse for revenge.
It took the security team close to two minutes to restore some semblance of order. The combatants stood apart, their chests heaving, their eyes glowering. Their nice formal clothes were hanging in shreds, their faces were torn and bloodied. Since they'd been fighting on the holodeck-provided forest setting, their gleaming skin was caked with dirt and filth from rolling on the ground. There were occasional sounds of choked sobbing, although it was impossible to discern the source.
In as clear and concise a voice as possible, Picard said, "Get off my ship. All of you.
You have abused even the most liberal definition of hospitality. And you will not be welcome until you cool down and are ready to behave like civilized beings..." Nistral took an unsteady step forward.
Blood covered the lower half of his face. He stabbed a finger at Graziunas, who looked decidedly less the worse for wear, but still like someone who had been in a fight. "We have no need of your ship, Captain. We need only our own.
And what we need it for, we will quickly finish." "Blood feud," snarled Graziunas.
"You've long had it coming, Nistral. You and your underhanded tactics, your airs, your arrogance..." "Blood feud it is," shot back Nistral. "You're a blight, Graziunas.
I have tolerated you for far too long, for the sake of our young ones. But I tolerate you no further!" "Let us out of here, Captain!" shouted Graziunas. "We have business to attend to!
Final business!" "I want you to cool off--" Picard began.
"It's no longer your affair, Captain," said Nistral. "It's ours to settle, and we will. I suggest you get your ship to safe distance, because shortly there is going to be a fight." "It will not be a fight," said Graziunas.
"It will be a slaughter. A great, glorious slaughter." Within minutes the Tizarin had emptied out of the holodeck, leaving the Enterprise senior officers and a group of stunned ambassadors looking at each other.
And Lwaxana Troi staggered forward, bleeding from the split lip that a stray elbow had caused.
"Anyone for coffee and cake?" she asked thickly.
Chapter Twenty
Wesley Crusher returned to his quarters, still nursing his sore ribs, but determined to get his uniform and head up to the bridge. He'd heard scuttlebutt that something was going on, that the wedding had fallen completely apart. Whatever was happening, he was bound and determined to be a part of it.
He entered his quarters and stopped. Karla was sitting on the edge of his bed, her blue face streaked with tears. She looked incredibly waiflike.
"Look... Karla," he began.
"I'm sorry, Wesley," she said softly.
"Don't apologize," he said for what seemed the hundredth time. He started towards her.
"There's something we have to--" "I must return to the Graziunas." He paused in midstep and immediately suppressed an urge to shout yes! "What?" She went to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. He fought the impulse to flinch from her.
"Blood feud," she said, "has been declared.
My people are at war with another family. It's a long and tangled rivalry, Wesley. No one even remembers how it all started, really. It's just there, and now there's no going back. And in a blood feud, all able-bodied members of the house line must return. Any other ties are secondary." "Well, you..." He took a deep breath.
"You do what you have to." "My people are very angry. They've ordered all communication with the Enterprise be..." She choked on the word. "... severed. I'm being taken back.
Oh, Wesley!" she wailed and threw her arms around him.
He let out a brief cry of alarm, but fortunately she didn't seem to dislocate any portions of him this time around. Awkwardly he patted her on the back. "It's okay," he said soothingly. "Everything will work out." "Wesley, I know how this must make you feel..." "Oh, I don't think you can begin to imagine," Wes told her.
"I'll think of you, always. Forever," she told him.
"And I'll be thinking of you, every time I break a rib." "That's soooo sweeeet!" she wailed and threw herself into the embrace with him with such force that she knocked him off balance. She caught herself, but Wes, his arms pinwheeling, stumbled back and fell. His forehead crashed against the edge of the bureau, and he sagged to the floor, moaning.
She started towards him. "Wes, let me help y--" "No!" he shouted, stretching out a hand. It had blood on it. "Stay away from me!
Please!" "It's hard for you, I know." "Don't make it any harder!" He didn't want to even look her in the eyes, for fear that, in her instance, looks could genuinely kill. "Just go, okay? Go!" "Whatever you say, Wesley," she told him with the voice of one who is truly damned for all eternity. She started to leave. Her footfall slowed as she approached the door.
"Keep going!" he admonished her. "Don't look back! Just keep going!" She paused in the door, which had opened. She called out at the top of her lungs, "There'll never be another like you, Wesley Crusher!
Never!" And with that she turned and headed for the transporter room, where her belongings already were.
And Ensign Walter Charles, who had once again happened to be passing by, shook his head and went straight to Wes's quarters. He stood in the doorway, looking at Wesley's crouched back, and said desperately, "How do you do it, Crusher? What's your secret? How do you get them to come back for more? What should I be doing?" Wesley slowly, unevenly, pulled himself up and turned to face Charles. Charles's eyes widened as he saw blood streaming from the nasty cut in Wesley's forehead.
"Get me to sickbay," Wes told him.
"That's what you should be doing."
Chapter Twenty-one
"The question is, What should we be doing?" Picard faced his senior officers in the conference lounge, the question hanging in the air. No one had an immediate answer.
