“Sssshhhhh,” Deanna said picking her up, Destiny’s dark midnight eyes filled with tears, “Sssshhhhh,” Deanna repeated, rocking the newborn in the same oak rocking chair that her father had rocked her in as a child.  Lwaxana had sent the beautiful hand-crafted rocker from the Troi mansion on Betazed, telling her that this way Destiny would always have her Grandpa with her.  When it had arrived Deanna had been filled with emotion, but as she had sat in it the past few nights rocking her little girl to the sound of a song that had so many times brought her security it had soothed her grief over Destiny Alexa not being able to meet the father that Deanna had lost at such an early age.  The Red Alert klaxon still rang loudly in the counselor’s ears, and she struggled with the thought of searching down the source of the agonizing noise and ripping it’s blasted wires from the walls of the great ship.  “Sssshhhh, Destiny,”  Deanna tried calming her once more, holding the baby’s pacifier gently in her mouth.  Beverly walked into the nursery smiling slightly. “Dee, let me take over,” she said with an underlying message in her voice, “They need you on the Bridge.”  Deanna looked surprised, and she began to protest as the doctor carefully lifted her “Little Angel” from her arms.  Beverly stopped her with  the troubled look on her face, “Deanna just go,” she said slowly nudging her friend toward the door, “Go.” “How many more, Lieutenant?”  Picard asked his chief of security.  “Seventeen,” said the Klingon, “Not counting the commander.” “Get them up here!  Quickly, Mr. Worf,”  the captain said as he turned to see the counselor practically burst threw the turbolift doors. “Captain, you wanted my assistance,” she stated as she made her way over to him. “Yes, counselor,” he told her, “There’s been a little trouble on the planet.”  Deanna looked toward the viewscreen.  A little trouble was somewhat of an understatement.  The scene before them was one of disaster and desolation.  The probe had hit civilization.  Homes, businesses, even foodsupply had been damaged when the Type 4 probe had crashed on Baheria.  It was one of the largest probes the Federation had in use, and Deanna turned to her captain confirming what he had already gathered, “Jean-Luc,” she said, “They are frightened and many are resentful.  They’ve had their lives shattered and as far as they know we are the ones who have done this to them.”  He nodded. “Mr. Worf,” Picard said again.  Before he could ask what was taking so long a voice from the planet rang in their ears.  It was lower than normal for the commander, and as he turned toward the counselor to monitor her reaction. It occurred to the captain that the counselor had been so distracted by the severity of the situation that she hadn’t even realized that Will was on the planet.  “Worf, what’s going on?  We have injured officers down here.  We have to get them to sickbay now.”  The first in command of the starship said. “There was some interference from the commotion around you, commander.  Geordi just broke through and we should have you up here within the next 7 min. or so.”  The security chief replied.  They could hear Riker take a deep, staggering breath, and then he answered. “Acknowledged.  Riker Out.” “He’s injured,” she said looking up from her hands that she had been wringing since the moment she heard his voice.  Picard nodded. “Yes, Deanna, but he insisted that we beam him up after everyone else had been brought on board,” he told her quietly, although the Bridge crew had heard the words from the commander himself.  The counselor looked at Worf, who already knew what the counselor was asking. “One more group after this one,” he said. “I’ll be in sickbay,” Deanna said as she headed up the ramp. “Permission granted,” she heard the captain say as the lift doors closed behind her.