July 8.

            The android replied, "Exactly two minutes, nine seconds, sir."

            "In two minutes, eight and a half seconds, I want us stopped one light-minute away from the gate."  A light-minute was about eighteen million kilometres, or eleven million two hundred thousand miles, the distance that light travelled in a minute.

            "Aye, sir."  At the specified time, they stopped one light-minute away from the gate.  It looked suspiciously familiar. . . the very same grid-pattern Q had used to block them the times at which they had encountered him!  (Wesley had not expected this; however, he had suspected something was fishy when Q first visited them.)  And, accompanied by this grid-fence, Q, in a Starfleet captain's uniform (replete with the four gold discs on the collar), flashed onto the bridge of the Enterprise.

            "What are you up to, Q?" demanded Picard.

            "Well, well, well!" said Q.  "The reason should be obvious, mon capitaine.  This gate is more or less permanent.  I erected it around - what? - fifteen years ago.  It is to keep the abominable evil on the other side of it out of this side.  However, I primarily erected it to keep the Cardassians from conquering a weaker, more moral race."

            Picard tried to regain some control over himself.  "Q, we must go through.  It is our mission."

            "Oh, very well, you typically stubborn human!" barked Q.  "Have it your way.  But be warned that the other side of this known sixth of the galaxy borders the Romulan Empire.  You will have to come back the way you will have gone.  As soon as I open the gate, you will have two minutes to go through.  After that, I shall close it until you return. . . if you return at all, that is."  His unbearable smile surfaced.  �Bon voyage, mon capitaine!  {Bawⁿh vwah-yahzh, mawⁿh kah-pé-tehn!}  [French]  (Have a nice trip, my captain!)�  "Have fun!  You are about to meet both the greatest good and the worst evil anywhere in this universe.  And no, I am not exaggerating."  Q flashed of the bridge.  On the screen, a doorway opened in the gate.  (Wesley knew somehow that Q was honest about the danger.)

            "Go through?" asked Riker.

            "Right, Number One," said Picard.  "Take us through there, Mr. Data. . . warp one point five."

            "Aye, sir," said Data.  His fingers flew over the Ops panel, and the Enterprise went through the door.  As soon as they passed through the doorway, it closed.

            "Warp 24.5," ordered Picard.  Punctuating the order with his pointing-gesture, Picard said, "Engage!"  Data engaged.  The ship sped on through the new area of unexplored space.

            In three minutes, however, they got another reading.  "We have a slight reading, sir, on long-range sensors," said Data.  "I cannot identify it; however, we will meet it in precisely thirty seconds."  (This was part of what Q was talking about, Wesley knew.)

            "Come to a halt near it, Mr. Data," ordered Picard.  Data made the necessary adjustments.  Worf leant over his Tactical station, his eyebrows going down.

            Worf said, "Sir, it may be a ship."

            "That is a possibility, sir," confirmed Data.  "It seems to be the residual effect of a cloaking device."

            "In that case," said Riker, "I suggest we go to Yellow-Alert."

            Picard turned to his first officer.  "Maybe a little premature, but a good idea nonetheless."  He got out of his command chair and tugged down on his uniform.  "Mr. Worf, make it so."  Lt. Worf pressed several buttons, the steady hum of Yellow-Alert was heard, and the panels turned yellow.  As the ship stopped at the disturbance, Counsellor Troi arrived on the bridge.  She took the seat on the far-left of the command-horseshoe.  "Mr. Data, can you put the main viewer on the reading?"

            "No, sir," said the android.

            It was now 20.00 and time for shifts to change.  Riker asked, "Mr. Crusher, would you like to take the helm?  The appropriate helmsman is in Sickbay."

            "Certainly, Commander," said Crusher.  He took the helm when Ensign Ro left, and he computed the appropriate replacement information.  "We are stopped, sir."

            "Very good," said Picard.  "What is going on?"

            "The disturbance is extremely faint," said Data.  "It seems to be reminiscent of a faulty Romulan-style cloaking device."

            "Could the Romulans have beaten us to the punch?" asked Riker.

            "I believe not," said Picard.  "We can outrun even their most sophisticated Warbirds."

            Riker pointed out, "We don't know that for a fact, sir.  I suggest we go to Red-Alert."

            "I think that's a little premature under the circumstances," said Picard.  Data shook his head.

            "The signal is fading, sir," said the android.  "I am detecting no further disturbance."

            "Are they toying with us?" asked Riker.

            "Someone is out there," said Picard.  "They obviously have a cloaking device."

            "Obviously!" barked the Klingon security chief.  "Sir, I suggest that we do go to Red-Alert."

            Picard turned and looked at Worf with fake-surprise.  "Lieutenant, your suggestion is noted.  Going to Red-Alert may be interpreted as a hostile action."  He turned to Troi.  "Do you sense anything, Counsellor?"

            Very cautiously, Troi brought down the invisible shields protecting her mind.  As soon as they were down, she looked as though something, like a phaser, were searing her mind.  "Very strong!" she said.  "Extremely evil!  Aah. . ."  She replaced the shields and regained her physical strength.  "Captain, there is something extremely powerful out there!  Focusing my empathic abilities on it almost killed me!"  (Wesley was now certain that this was what Q had warned them against.  He wondered how he [Wesley] could have allowed one so evil to be created.)

            "Hm," said Picard.  Data turned to face the captain.

            "In that case, I tend to agree with the decision of Riker and Worf, sir," said Data.  "Red-Alert may prepare the crew if there is to be a battle."  Picard looked at Troi, who nodded.  He then turned to Wesley.

            "Wesley?" asked Picard.  "Do you have any ideas?"  Wesley turned to face the captain.

            "I suggest that we prepare to go to Red-Alert but that we not actually do it just yet," said Wesley.  Picard nodded.  He agreed that that was precisely what should be done.

            "Good.  I completely agree.  Lt. Worf, keep your finger over the Red-Alert key, but do not press it until I order you to make it so."

            "Aye, sir," said Worf.

            "Also," added Picard, "prepare to bring weapons systems on-line and raise shields to maximum power, but carry out the action only if I tell you to do so."

            "Aye, sir."

            Picard raised his voice just a little.  "Dr. Crusher and Lt. Cmdr. LaForge, please report to the bridge."  He turned to the screen.  "What the hell is out there?"  As Beverly and LaForge stepped onto the bridge, the automatic Red-Alert activated.  The siren that could wake the dead sounded, the normal lighting dimmed, and the panels flashed red.  The ship they had spotted was decloaking.  "Oh, my God!"  The ship was so large - so enormously large - that it took ten full seconds to decloak completely.  It was extremely massive, easily dwarfing the Enterprise.  If it had not been so large, everyone on the Bridge would have mistaken it for a Romulan Warbird.  Everyone on the Bridge was absolutely stunned. . . everyone except for Data, of course.

            "It looks exactly like a Romulan Warbird, Captain," said Data.  Picard nodded.

            Picard said, "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd have doubted that the Romulans had the resources to construct such an enormous vessel.  In fact, I do doubt it.  It looks as though it could destroy entire solar systems."  He made the only sensible next move.  "Lieutenant Worf, open hailing frequencies."  Worf, though slightly surprised, tapped some keys.

            "Hailing frequencies open, sir," announced Worf.

            "Romulan vessel," announced Picard, "this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise.  Please respond."  Worf examined his readouts and shook his head.

            "They are not responding," said Worf.  "They hear us, but they're not responding."

            Data said, "It appears that all their weapons systems are down.  Their shields are completely down."  Picard nodded.

            "They know we would be fools to attack them," said Picard.  "That battleship probably houses enough photon torpedoes to destroy the Sol System."

            Riker asked, "How could anyone produce such a huge vessel in that configuration?  Not even the Borg's cubicle vessels are that big."

            "Do we have an analysis of their engines, Mr. Data?" asked Picard.

            "Yes, sir," said Data.  "Their top sustainable speed is warp 30."

            "Warp 30!" exclaimed Riker.  "This ship could not reach that speed without a complete engine change."

            LaForge said, "That is correct, sir.  We'd need to construct a new ship."

            Picard asked, "But what do they want?"  Something beeped on Worf's console.  Worf examined it.

            "They are re-engaging their cloaking device," said Worf.  The enormous ship faded out of view.

            "If that ship is truly Romulan, then we're safe," said Riker.

            "No if's, Number One," said Picard.  "I want sentences with because-clauses, not if-clauses. . . in a meeting in one hour.  All senior officers.  Come with me into my Ready-Room, Number One and Counsellor.  Commander Data, you have the bridge.  Lieutenant Worf, stand down to Yellow-Alert."  Lt. Commander Data took the command chair as Picard, Riker, and Troi went to the captain's ready-room.  LaForge and Dr. Crusher left the bridge as the red disappeared and the normal lighting resumed.

            * * *

            Main Ready-Room.

            "Tea, Earl Grey, hot," Picard ordered the replicator in his Ready-Room.  The very drink materialised in the food slot.  Picard took it and drank some while going over to his chair at his desk.  He set the saucer on the desk and put the cup in it while he sat in his chair.  He looked at his first officer, in a seat across from the desk, then the counsellor, on the couch.  "Okay, Counsellor," says Picard.  "What can you tell me about what you felt?"

            Troi stared into empty space for a while, then said, "I can't quite sort out the bombardment that hit me on the bridge, sir.  However, I can tell you this.  Whoever has that mind has a great deal of evil in his soul, and he has so much power of logic that he can control all parts of his personality with ease.  I just can't seem to sort this out, one way or another."

            "Merely Deanna's reaction tells us that this thing, whatever it is, could prove to be extremely hostile," said Riker.  Picard nodded.

            "Yes, Number One.  However, our mission still stands:  explore the galaxy in a general manner.  It will have to get pretty desperate for us to withdraw inside Q's so-called 'protective barrier.'  Counsellor, what kind of emotional readings did you get?"

            "Frustration," replied Troi.  "Other than that, almost-satisfied pride.  I can't decipher it.  I am only an empath, as you understand."  Again, the captain nodded.  "Someone with a little less strength than mine could have been killed."

            Riker frowned thoughtfully and said, "I don't like this.  If these are Romulans, how did they get all the way out here?  They have only recently gained the technology to reach warp 9 point whatever on the old scale."

            "We won't be certain until we have all the evidence," said Picard.  "And that is assuming that these even are Romulans.  I have a strong suspicion that they are not."  He tapped a panel on his desk.  "Commander Data, proceed on course at warp 22.5, but use extreme caution.  Let me know of anything you find, no matter how faint or insignificant."

            "Aye, sir," replied the android's ever-steady voice.  They looked out the viewport.  In a few seconds, a flash of light occurred, and the stars streaked by as though they were lines instead of merely collinear points.

            Riker mused, I still cannot get over that effect.  "In conversing, let's assume for a moment that the people with whom we've come into contact are Romulans."  Picard nodded.  "Mightn't the Romulans follow us?"

            "Possibly," said Picard.  "The problem is that we cannot detect this ship."  He raised his voice.  "Lt. Worf, please scan the area for anything which might be a cloak-shadow."

            "Aye, sir," replied the Klingon security officer's powerful voice over the comm-link.  Picard looked at his first officer, then at his counsellor.

            "Let's go back out there," said Picard.  As he went out, the two followed him respectfully.  On the bridge, Wesley was still at Conn.  Data went back to Ops, relieving the replacement.  Riker and Troi took their usual captain-on-bridge places as Picard went up to Tactical to talk to Worf.  "Anything, Lieutenant?"

            "No, sir.  I detect no cloak-shadows of any kind.  These could be Romulans, sir.  They are the only ones we know of with such sophisticated cloaking technology as to keep a ship so entirely hidden, though the size of that ship appeared to be beyond their technology."  Picard nodded in comprehension.

            "Keep at it," said Picard.  "There is a slight chance that the cloak may reduce in efficiency just enough for our sensors to pick it up."

            "Then again," said Worf, "that might not happen."

            "There's always that possibility, Worf, but we do not know the intent of the persons on board that ship."

            "It didn't seem hostile, sir."

            "You know how the Romulans attack.  They will wait for you to commit yourself to a battle or anything else."

            "I hope we don't see those hood-eyed monsters in this quest."  Picard acted surprised while, in reality, he wasn't surprised at all.

            "I agree," said Riker.  "Especially Tomalak."

            Picard sighed.  "But just because he is treacherous and scheming doesn't mean that all Romulans are like that.  Do you remember Valak?  He was the kind of person that wanted to understand the enemy, to learn about him, her, or it. . . not just to blast the enemy blindly off the face of the galaxy."

            "But he lured us into a death-trap," reminded the first officer.

            "At least he took the time to try to learn about us," said Picard.  "That shows a willingness to understand us."  Wesley turned around.

            "Valak?" asked the cadet, his mostly black uniform almost shining.  "Who was he?"

            "I'll explain later," said the captain with a pleasant smile.  Wesley seemed satisfied for the moment, so he turned back to the Conn-board.  (The person seemed like one from the original universe to Wesley.)

            Then, it happened again.

            Some force. . . something invaded his mind enough to interfere with his concentration.  He tried unsuccessfully to block it out.  He tried to support his head to make himself feel better but to no avail.

            "Captain!" exclaimed Wesley.  Troi, releasing her mental shields just enough for her to feel what's happening to Wesley, suddenly realised what was wrong.

            Troi said, "I think he's okay, Captain.  Wes, come with me."  Wesley managed to turn the helm-board aside.  Troi guided him up.  "Okay, Wes.  We're going to my office."  Wesley managed a nod.  Troi guided him to TurboLift 2.

            "My knowledge of Conn is still intact," said Riker.  Picard nodded.  And, with that, Riker took the helm.

            * * *

            Counsellor Troi's Office, Deck 7.

            "Thanks," said Wes as Troi gave him a cup of his preferred hot chocolate.  He sipped some, and it seemed to give him some strength.  "So, Counsellor, what's wrong?"  Deanna sat in a chair across from the one to which she had guided Wesley.

            "Nothing is wrong," said Troi, smiling.  "Wesley, you have just developed telepathy."  This almost knocked Wesley for a worse one than when the surge had hit him earlier.  (This was very unexpected.)

            "Telepathy?" he asked in disbelief.  He sarcastically exclaimed, "I'm only human!"  Troi found a little amusement in the thought.

            "I know that," replied the Betazoid counsellor, "but it's true.  You have telepathy. . . not merely the empathy that I have."

            "This is great," he said facetiously.  "I have something that will tear my mind apart if I don't harness it properly."

            Troi said, "That, too.  It's fortunate that you've just come on board.  I can teach you how to shield your mind."

            "Well, Counsellor," said Wesley, smiling, "what harm can not having mental shields do?"

            "Most cannot survive the onslaught of emotions and thoughts from others forever without going completely insane," said Troi.  "You need to learn how to shield your mind to everything."  Wesley nodded as he was finishing his hot chocolate.

            "I understand.  Well," said Wesley, "when can we begin?"

            "I don't really have any appointments this week," said Troi.  "Possibly, we can begin as early as tomorrow at noon."  Wesley nodded.  Then, he yawned.

            "What time is it?" he asked the computer.

            The computer replied, "It is 21.00."

            "I guess it was just the day.  I'll see you tomorrow, Counsellor."

            "See you tomorrow, Wes.  Appointment for 12.00 tomorrow?"

            "Yes, ma'am."  He left.  Troi tapped on her appointment computer.

            "Computer," she ordered, "add appointment:  Wesley Crusher, tomorrow at midday."

            After a confirming beep, the computer said, "Appointment added.  Cadet Wesley Crusher to report to Counsellor Troi at 12:00 on Stardate 48024.7."  Troi shut off the computer.

            * * *

            Dr. Crusher's Quarters.

            Wesley settled himself in the room his mother reserved for him in her quarters.  Adequate, really; it was not disturbing that he was sleeping in the same living area as his mother.  No problem.  He wondered if his telepathy. . . no, he would not try that just yet.  He would just let Counsellor Troi teach him how to control that power.  Then, he could use it.  However, it would be his duty to tell everyone about it. . . including a certain person called Beverly Crusher and another certain person called Jean-Luc Picard.  Still not a real problem; they would understand.  Wesley just got everything set up in his room; then, he left and went to Engineering to talk to LaForge.

            * * *

            Main Engineering, Deck 36.

            "You've gotta be kidding me!" laughed the chief engineer.  "Telepathy?"

            "It's true," said the cadet.  "Ask the counsellor."  LaForge got up and got a portable viewscreen off his desk.

            "Don't worry," said LaForge.  "We have a complete senior officer's meeting in about ten minutes.  I'm going up there right away.  Come with me if you want to."  The two stepped into TurboLift 2.  To the controls, LaForge ordered, "Main Bridge."  The turbolift started moving.  "So, what's this telepathy like, Wes?"

            "It feels rather strange," said Wesley.  "Troi says she'll work with me on it. . . fine-tuning it, shielding my mind, that sort of thing."  The older man nodded.  His VISOR showed him that Wesley was a little nervous.  He couldn't actually see the nervousness; he could just see the elevated heat levels that he attributed to nervousness.  He wasn't surprised at all.  "It's kind of weird getting something during life that you aren't used to having.  It's like trying to add an eye on the back of the head."  The chief engineer was amused, especially since he knew the joke was a reference to his blindness.

            "I've had this VISOR all my life," said Geordi.  "I couldn't imagine life without it."

            * * *

            Main Bridge.

            "Is that so?" asked Picard in his usual, nonemotional voice.  He had learned how to control his emotions and keep them hidden, and he was still quite good at it.  "Wesley Crusher has telepathy?"

            "Yes," said Troi.  "It's no wonder he reacted the way he did at the helm.  It's like giving someone sight when one has lived for a long time without it."  Picard nodded.  TurboLift 1 opened, and Dr. Crusher stepped out of it.

            "Most of us are here," said Picard.  "Now, all we have to do is wait for our chief engineer. . . and to call someone to take over the bridge."  Speak of LaForge himself!  TurboLift 2 arrived, opened, and let Commander LaForge and Cadet Crusher exit.  "One of whom is here now."  A quick glance around the bridge said that, other than Wesley, everyone here was a senior officer.  Rather than dry his voice on the comm-link, he ordered, "Please take the Bridge, Mr. Crusher."  Before Wesley could get a word out, Picard gestured for the senior officers to join him in the Observation Lounge.

            Wesley tried out the command chair as soon as all the senior officers had left.  (He actually knew this particular event would happen.  It would not have occurred ordinarily. . . leaving one person in charge of the whole bridge.)  I think I can run things for a minute or two.  He decided to walk around and check on things.  Conn.  Ops.  Tactical.  Science stations.  Engineering station.  All in order, he told himself.  He sat back in the command chair.  So far, so good.

            * * *

            Observation Lounge.

            ". . .so that's our dilemma," said LaForge.  "We just can't track that damn ship."

            "All sensors have been tried," said Worf.  "None have succeeded."  Riker turned to his captain.

            Riker said, "Sir, with all due respect, I say that these simply must be the Romulans!  We don't know their technological capabilities."  Worf nodded.

            "He is right, sir," said Worf.  "These have to be those double-timing tohzah."

            "Worf, please!" said Picard.  "Not so strong."

            "Sorry, sir," said Worf.

            Picard said, "We are forced to believe that we are dealing with Romulans.  We shall make that as a temporary assumption.  There is also a new development among one of our guests.  Cadet Wesley Crusher has just developed telepathy."

            "Telepathy?" exclaimed Doctor Crusher.  "But. . . but neither Jack nor I, nor anyone else in either of our families, ever had that."

            "Then, it seems to be a first for your family," said Picard plainly.  "More in the concern of development in those areas than anything else, I would like that Wesley have some experience of command in those senior positions on the ship in which he has expertise.  I believe the first area should be that of the first officer."  Riker smiled.  "The official officers for those duties will supervise him.  Each area should last for a period of twenty-four hours."

            "Sir," said Troi, "Wesley has an appointment with me at 12.00 tomorrow.  This will be for the development of the shields he will require to properly harness his telepathic abilities."

            "Fine," said Picard.  "We will have it so that the appointments with you will have no effect on that necessary development.  However, I would like to be advised as to his development in those areas."

            The next instant, the speaker delivered six sharp beeps in pairs, and the computer voice said, "All decks:  Yellow-Alert."

            "Wesley got ahead of us," said Picard.  "Let's see what he's doing activating Yellow-Alert."  The senior officers left.

            * * *

            Main Bridge.

            He was standing at Tactical.  "Sir," said Wesley, snapping to attention at the arrival of all senior officers, "I was monitoring the sensors when a cloak-shadow appeared a light-hour behind us.  I did an analysis, and the shadow is just right for the ship we encountered."

            "At ease.  You did the right thing activating Yellow-Alert," said Picard.  "Commander Riker, you have the Bridge.  Wesley, come with me to my Ready-Room."  Wesley nodded.  LaForge went to the Engineering terminal and activated it; Worf went to Tactical; Data went to Ops; and Troi and Riker went to their usual captain-off-bridge positions.  Beverly Crusher felt a little out of place, so she re-entered the turbolift and went back down to Sickbay.  Riker keyed Conn through to one of the panels opened on the command chair.

            * * *

            Main Ready-Room.

            "I mean it, Wesley.  You really did the best thing in activating Yellow-Alert."

            "I interrupted your conference with the other senior officers."

            "Oh, that's nothing," said Picard.  "Just as long as it's for something like that for which you did it."  Wesley sighed.  "We've decided that you be allowed to practise the senior positions on this ship.  Riker one twenty-four-hour period, Data the next.  You'd be supervised by the person in charge of that position."

            "Thank you," said the cadet.  "Has Counsellor Troi told you?"

            "If you're talking about the telepathy," said Picard, "yes, she has.  She also told us that you set up an appointment for developing shielding to control the telepathy.  I assure you that we've set it up so that neither has any effect on the other."

            Wesley said, "Thank you, sir.  I. . . I don't know what to say."

            "You've already said it," said Picard.  "You said, 'Thank you, sir.'  Since you agree, you will take Commander Riker's position whenever you get up."

            "Aye, sir," said Wesley.  "I'll set my alarm for 6.30."  Picard nodded.

            Picard said, "Dismissed.  See you in the morning."

            "See you," said Wesley.  "And thanks again, sir."