Title: History's Legacy
Author: Whoa Nellie
Contact:
[email protected]
Series: TNG
Rating: NC-17
Codes: P/V, C/Chakotay,
Riker, crew
Summary: Vash's archaeology team makes a discovery
that carries significant ramifications for two powerful governments. Meanwhile, Beverly Crusher makes a discovery
about the difference between being a doctor and being a captain. This story was originally posted to ASC on
July 16, 2010.
As always: Paramount owns all
the marbles. We just have a lot more fun playing with them.
Whoa Nellie's Romance Star
Trek Fan Fiction Stories
http://whoanellie.fortunecity.com
HISTORY'S LEGACY
"Captain's log supplemental: the Enterprise-F,
along with her companion vessels, the USS Pasteur and the USS Titan are in
standard orbit around Romulus completing final preparations for the expedition
toward the Delta Quadrant. The
Bozeman-A and the Voluspa will arrive within the hour with the last of the
assorted dignitaries coming to Romulus for the official launch of the Delta
expedition. There is a reception
onboard the Enterprise this evening to officially kick off the
festivities. The Romulan Senate
strongly encouraged hosting the launch celebrations here at Romulus. I am certain that they saw it as a political
feather, an opportunity to display their involvement in this expedition as well
as their recent, commendable efforts at improving relations with the
Federation." Picard surveyed the
view from his ready room. He would have
never thought to see the day when Starfleet ships and Romulan warbirds occupied
the space around Romulus with no red alerts, no shields and no weapons. It was a welcome sight, but he wondered how
long it would take before Romulan warbirds didn't provoke a sense of
forboding. The chime to his ready room
announced a visitor. With all of the
individuals roaming about the ship, both Starfleet and civilians reporting in
and settling into their new quarters as well as others simply taking advantage
of one last opportunity to tour this ship before her launch, there was simply
no place on the ship to hide. He closed
his log and called for the door.
Admiral Alynna Nechayev strode into the room
accompanied by several Cardassians.
"Jean-Luc."
Picard immediately stood and assumed a military ready
position. "Admiral Nechayev, I was
not informed that you were aboard."
"At ease," she acknowledged the gesture of
military protocol, performed more for the benefit of her guests than for her
sake. "Captain Jean-Luc Picard,
may I present Chairman Elim Garak of Cardassia and his aides, Gul Tajor and Gul
Telak."
"Welcome to the USS Enterprise-F," Picard
greeted them with the practiced ease of a diplomat. "If you would like a tour, I can arrange for my First
Officer, Commander Data, to personally--"
Chairman Garak interrupted him, managing to sound
both sociable and annoyed at the same time.
"What I would like, Captain Picard is to know why my people were
excluded from your little star trek?"
Picard noted Nechayev's smirk. Because of her small stature and position
standing just in front of the three Cardassians, they were unable to see her
face. Obviously she was delegating this
conversation to him and only staying to watch the show. "I don't understand, Chairman."
"Can you imagine how distressed I was upon my
arrival to discover that there are Romulans, ROMULANS, going on this expedition
and yet not a single Cardassian?"
It took every ounce of Picard's self-control to not
react to the Cardassian's aghast expression and the apparent wide-eyed surprise
that accompanied his question. "We
received a great many applications from both Starfleet personnel and
civilians. The applications were
carefully reviewed under a pre-determined selection process. Of all the applications that I personally
reviewed for the available postings onboard this ship, I don't recall seeing
any Cardassian applications. Just out
of curiosity, Chairman, how many of your people asked to be part of this
expedition?"
"We were not invited to apply," Garak
replied indignantly.
"Neither were the Romulans," Picard
noted. "They requested that
consideration and submitted all necessary documentation. A small group of civilian scientists were
selected from among those expressing an interest."
Garak threw his arms open in a flamboyant gesture of
satisfaction. "Perfect, I hereby
request that consideration for my people.
I understand that you will be poking around in Romulan space for a time
before leaving the area. That will
provide ample opportunity to review and select individuals to represent
Cardassia."
"I'm afraid not, Chairman," Picard
carefully kept his tone neutral.
"All of the living spaces have been allocated. There are no openings available at this
time."
"Well now, my good Captain, that just won't
do," Garak said. "How will it
look if Cardassia is the only major power not represented here? Aside from humans, I've seen Vulcans,
Bolians, Tellurites, Trill, Romulans, Bajorans, Klingons, even an Excalbian . .
. shall I continue?"
Picard tugged on his uniform jacket, ignoring the
amused look on Nechayev's face. If Vash
were here, the two ladies would probably be sitting on the sofa, eating popcorn
and doing a play-by-play of the exchange.
"I can assure you, Chairman, that Cardassia is not the only race in
the Alpha or Beta Quadrants not represented.
There are no Tholians, Breen, Eillen, Andorians, Tavnians, Ferengi . . .
shall I continue?"
"I simply must insist that a representative from
Cardassia be included, Captain Picard."
Garak wasn't giving up.
"Perhaps Glinn Daro or Glinn Corak could be part of your military
force. My people have a great deal of
experience in that regard, you know."
Picard briefly toyed with the idea of throwing newly
minted Captain Riker under that proverbial shuttle. "I'm sorry, Chairman, but the military component of this
expedition is the responsibility of the USS Titan under the command of Captain
Riker." His conscience precluded
extracting himself at Will's expense so he continued. "The crew of the Titan are Starfleet personnel. There are no military advisor positions
onboard that vessel."
"I must disagree, Captain," Garak
countered, wagging his finger.
"One of my people distinctly saw a Klingon couple reporting to
Captain Riker personally just a short time ago. They beamed up to his ship together."
Picard reached for his computer monitor and pulled up
the expedition roster. Tapping in a
search query, he quickly accessed the relevant information.
"Don't you know who's going with you?"
Garak asked. "Perhaps I should
just leave one of my people behind . . . entirely by 'accident' I could assure
you."
"That would not be advisable," Picard said
icily. "There are several thousand
individuals in this expedition. I know
the individuals approved to live and/or work onboard this vessel but the final
decision regarding positions on the other two ships rested with their
respective captains. According to the
roster of the Titan, Captain Riker approved the request from a Klingon warrior
and his mate based on a prior service history.
During an officer exchange program a number of years ago, Captain Riker
served as a First Officer aboard a Klingon vessel. The Klingon male was apparently a member of that crew. His mate and he were interested in joining
the expedition and Captain Riker approved his position on the Titan."
"Perhaps an officer exchange, then?" Garak
suggested. "I'll trade one of my
people for one of yours. It won't
overbook your living space at all and everyone wins."
Picard resisted the urge to sigh but didn't bother to
reply to the obviously unsatisfactory suggestion. "The first scheduled rendezvous for materials and personnel
transfer is in approximately three years.
That will provide you with more than enough time to submit all of the
requisite documentation for any interested individuals. If and when there are openings available,
your people will receive the same consideration as any other applicants. I'm sure Admiral Nechayev will be happy to
assist you with the criteria for applications.
That is the best that I can offer at this point in time, Chairman
Garak."
Garak let out a very dramatic sigh. "Well, I am very disappointed, Captain
Picard, very, very disappointed. I will
certainly start recruiting volunteers to join this wonderful journey into the
unknown at the first available opportunity.
I just had a thought. Perhaps
Captain Crusher has an opening for a doctor on her hospital ship. One of the most pre-eminent exobiologists of
our time, in fact the chairman of exobiology at the University of Culat just
happens to be a member of our little contingent to these festivities. I'm certain that Crell Moset would just jump
at the opportunity to study Delta Quadrant species. Why don't we just go find Captain Crusher and have a little chat
with her."
Picard watched the Cardassians abruptly turn toward
the door. Just before the door slid
shut behind them, Chairman Garak poked his head back in.
"Bon voyage, Captain Picard. We'll miss you in our little neck of the
woods."
Alone in his ready room with Admiral Nechayev, Picard
rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily.
"Did you enjoy that?"
"Immensely," Nechayev said. "You're leaving for parts unknown, I
just wanted to give you one last chance to see what you'll be missing."
"Senator Pardek's going-away gift was two cases
of Romulan ale," Picard informed her wryly.
Nechayev headed for the door to catch up to the
Cardassians. "You might want to
hold onto those in case the Cardassians actually do apply in a few
years."
............................................
Wandering through the corridor, Vash Picard casually
scanned the crowd. The Enterprise-F had
been designed specifically for this expedition and one of the biggest features
of the ship was the community deck. One
entire deck of the massive ship had been filled with a variety of dining
establishments, nightclubs, lounges, holodecks and holosuites, a spa and even a
large arboretum. Right now, the entire
deck was teeming with admirals, diplomats, dignitaries, Romulans, journalists
and other assorted VIP's mingling with the Starfleet personnel and civilian
scientists who would comprise the expedition.
Finally she spotted her quarry in Guinan's, a large forward lounge. The vast panoramic windows provided a
resplendent backdrop for his natural commanding presence. He was quite dashing in his dress uniform,
the crisp, white jacket trimmed with gold braiding and the fitted black
trousers emphasizing his sleek, muscular build. She paused for a moment to savor the view before starting to
weave through the crowd at the door to the lounge only to bump into someone who
had been trying to edge around her.
"Oh, excuse me."
"No, please excuse me," Commander Martin
Madden offered. The first thing he
noticed was her vivid blue eyes followed by her delicate visage perfectly
framed by her silky brunette hair. The
gold filigree choker studded with glittering crystals that encircled her
slender neck complemented her gold-beaded evening gown. The strapless gown crested the top curves
of her breasts to skim the feminine lines of her slender silhouette. With a smile, he continued suavely,
"Your powers of attraction seem to have temporarily overwhelmed my
inertial dampeners."
With his dark hair, handsome features and charming
smile, the man in front of her was very reminiscent of a slightly shorter and
younger Will Riker. She took notice of
the three gold pips on his collar.
"My apologies, Commander, sometimes I forget my own strength."
Still
blocking her path, he held her eyes with his while lowering his voice slightly
to a conspiratorial tone, "So, what does it feel like to be the most
beautiful woman in this room?"
Vash felt her cheeks flush ever so slightly. Most men she encountered were carefully
deferential toward her, either because they knew exactly who she was or were
warned off by the sight of her security guard. It had been quite some time since any man, other than Jean-Luc,
had so boldly flirted with her. This
could be fun. She resisted the urge to
glance in Jean-Luc's direction and instead gave the officer her most winsome
wide-eye gaze. "I'm flattered.
Commander?"
"The
name is Martin Madden." He
gestured toward expanse of stars outside the panoramic windows. "And if beauty were time, you'd be an
eternity."
That
line brought back a memory. Vash couldn't
help herself and bantered playfully, "next you'll be telling me that my
eyes are mysterious as the stars."
"Well,
one thing your eyes haven't told me is your name," he observed
dramatically.
"Seeing
as you're a Starfleet officer, you must be a resourceful fellow. I'm sure you'll figure it out," she
replied with a coy smile before disappearing into the crowd.
Captain Jean-Luc Picard spotted two familiar faces
and made his way over to them. Grateful
for the respite from the dog-and-pony show, he greeted Captain Bateson and
Captain Janeway. "Morgan, Kathryn."
"This
is a magnificent vessel, Jean-Luc," Bateson remarked with admiration. "The size is just incredible."
"Thank
you, Morgan," Picard replied. "You've got a nice new ship
yourself. How are you enjoying life on
a Sovereign class ship?"
Bateson
grinned, "The Bozeman-A is quite the toy, especially after all those years
on the Soyuz class."
Janeway
joined in the conversation. "Considering that the Soyuz class ships were
withdrawn from service well over a century ago, decommissioning the Bozeman
made a lot more sense than decommissioning Voyager after only seven years in
service."
"It's
not the years, it's the mileage," Bateson bantered. "I kept my ship
within the bounds of known space unlike some captains I could name."
Janeway
pursed her lips. "You got stuck in a time loop for nearly a century,
that's not fair."
"According
to your logs, Voyager did her share of time travel," Picard pointed out
with a grin. "I do want to thank you for sending me a copy of your logs
from Voyager. I'm sure it will be an invaluable resource."
"I
wouldn't have sent them in advance if I'd known that you would use them against
me," she retorted good-naturedly. "Seriously, you're quite welcome,
Jean-Luc; although, I think your most invaluable resource on the expedition
toward the Delta Quadrant will be Chakotay."
"Agreed," Picard concurred. "That is precisely why I've placed
Commander Chakotay in charge of the Department of Anthropological Sciences,
including the First Contact teams, anthropologists, archaeologists and
historians. For some reason he elected
to live with his wife onboard her ship and commute to work in his office
here. He'll also be in my ship's chain
of command. It took some doing, but
Captain Riker, Captain Crusher and I have arranged things so that no one
answers directly to their own spouse."
Bateson couldn't resist the opening. "Any more than you men already answer
to your wives."
Picard arched an eyebrow at his old friend before making
a pointed query. "Would you like
to join our little expedition, Kathryn?
It's not too late to add a couple more ships to our little colony."
"To the Delta quadrant?" Janeway asked with
a laugh. She shook her head no. "Been there, done that, have the coffee
mug."
"It always comes back to coffee with you,
doesn't it," Bateson teased her.
"I would think that would make any gift-giving
occasion easy," Picard surmised wryly.
Coming up from behind him, Vash peered over her
husband's shoulder. "Did someone
mention a gift-giving occasion?"
"Madame Picard, you're done for awhile," he
playfully chided gesturing to her elaborate evening gown and jewelry. Seeing the adorable pout she gave him, he
slipped his arm around her waist his hand resting on the small of her
back. "Where have you been?"
"Seeing and being seen per my job description as
your wife," she said. Her voice
took on a chiding tone. "I work
very hard for these baubles. Speaking
of which, have you done that interview for FNN that you promised?"
Picard gave his jacket a tug.
"That would be a 'no'," Vash
translated. "They're very
interested in talking to you," she coaxed as she reached over to brush a
small piece of lint from his jacket.
Picard retorted.
"I think that news producer is more interested in putting my lovely
wife in front of his camera." He
covered her hand with his to still her wifely fussing.
Before Vash could find a suitable retort, Will
Riker's voice interrupted her.
"Captains, please excuse the interruption,"
Riker began and then gestured to the younger officer accompanying him. "I would like to introduce my new First
Officer."
Slightly hidden from view by her husband, Vash took a
brief moment to maintain her composure while Riker began the introductions to
Janeway and Bateson. She took a slight
step to the side out of Jean-Luc's embrace allowing him to extend his hand to
the man.
"Commander Martin Madden, Captain Jean-Luc
Picard," Riker introduced them as the two men shook hands.
"Welcome aboard, Commander," Picard greeted
him.
"Thank you, sir. I'm looking forward to serving with you," Madden replied.
"And this is Archaeology Council member Vash
Picard . . ."
"Commander Madden," Vash interrupted Riker
and extended her hand to Madden with a charming smile.
"Mrs. Picard," Madden managed to take her
hand while seeing his career flash in front of his eyes.
"Have you two met?" Riker inquired, curious about his first
officer's expression.
"We bumped into each other a little earlier." Vash turned her attention to Will and laid
her hand on his upper arm. "It was
very reminiscent of our first meeting, Captain Riker."
"I see," Riker responded, silently thankful
that Deanna and Beverly weren't within earshot to join in on the fun. Although Picard had smothered his chuckle by
clearing his throat and tugging on the hem of his jacket, after nearly two
decades of working together, Riker could see the unmitigated glee in Picard's
eyes.
"Well, Commander, it seems you have quite a bit
in common with your new CO."
Picard felt sympathy for the young man; however, he was truly enjoying
Will's unpleasant blast from the past.
Placing his hand at the small of her back, Picard began to steer his
wife away from the group. "All
right, ma petite, why don't we find that news crew and see if we can put those
beguiling talents of yours to a more productive use."
"It's all right, son. You're not the first and I doubt you'll be the last,"
Bateson consoled the young officer before he and Janeway made their way off
into the crowd.
Reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose, Riker
laughed, "You made a pass at her."
Before Madden could answer, Commander Data stepped
over to join them noting, "so did you . . . sir."
"But Data, she wasn't wearing a wedding ring
when I made a pass at her," Riker defended himself.
Madden shook his head, "I didn't even notice her
hands, I was so busy looking at her incredible . . ."
"Legs," Ambassador Worf offered from where
he was standing nearby.
"Eyes," Madden scrambled to correct. Quickly, he added in a more deferential
tone, "her blue eyes, Ambassador."
"Vash has blue eyes?" Worf deadpanned to
Riker.
In one of the nightclubs in a different area of the
community deck, Beverly was enjoying a slow, romantic dance with her
husband. Even though the planning and
preparation for this expedition had been in motion for the past few years,
there had still been a flurry of last minute activity. That, combined with the launch ceremony, had
left her exhausted. Relaxing into the
strong arms holding her, she sighed.
"What a day."
"It has been a long day," Chakotay agreed.
"And you didn't have to deal with
Cardassians," she murmured wearily.
"My day was worse."
He pulled pack slightly, not losing the beat of the
music but curious about her unexpected statement. "Why were you dealing with Cardassians?"
"The pips," she said. "The chairman of their new Detapa
Council was a bit put out that there were no Cardassians on the
expedition. Apparently Jean-Luc turned
down his request to get someone on the Enterprise so he came to see me about a
position for an exobiologist on my ship and wasn't inclined to take no for an
answer."
Chakotay stiffened, standing stock-still in the
middle of the dance floor. His voice
was low but hard. "Who?"
Beverly noted his immediate reaction and was
confused. "A Crell Moset, I've
heard of his work; he's well-known in his field."
"What did you say?"
"To the Cardassians?" she asked him
uncertainly. "That there were no
positions open. If he's interested, he
can submit the necessary documentation through Starfleet. I'll consider his application along with
everyone else's if a position becomes available. I spent too much time and effort selecting my crew and each
scientist currently on the expedition to just throw someone else in at the last
minute."
He relaxed, but only slightly. The music had ended and he started to lead
her off the dance floor. "I know
it's your ship and I have no right to influence your decisions, but there's
something you should know about Moset before you think about bringing him
onboard."
............................................
Later that evening, Vash stood in front of her
dresser. She carefully unsheathed the
new field knife that she was holding and closely inspected it. It was magnificent. Both the sheath and the knife were
custom-designed to her specifications and had been superbly crafted by the Klingon
Chancellor's own artisans.
Stepping into the bedroom, Picard's eyes traveled
over his wife taking in how the glittering gown revealed her shapely
silhouette. "So, exactly what did
he say?"
She returned the knife to its sheath while turning to
face him. "Worf said I should make
sure you're more careful with my toys. Delivering
one of these to the Delta Quadrant would pose quite a problem."
"I wasn't referring to the Ambassador,"
Picard clarified making his way over to her.
Taking the field knife from her hands, he placed it back on the
dresser. "I was referring to
Will's new First Officer, the latest addition to the Queen Bee's harem."
"Oh that," she scoffed with a dismissive
wave of her hand.
"Yes, that," he parroted with a touch of
expectancy tingeing his tone. Finding
his wife on the receiving end of male adulation was nothing new; however, the
description of her first meeting with Commander Madden had certainly piqued his
interest.
Reaching up, Vash traced teasing circles around the
rank pips on the collar of his white dress jacket with one fingertip. Her husband was hardly the jealous type, but
as Deanna often noted, there was nothing like a little perceived competition to
spur on an alpha male like Jean-Luc.
Staring directly into his eyes and feeling deliciously brazen, she
recounted in her most sultry voice, "he asked me what it felt like to be
the most beautiful woman in the room."
Picard knew that she toyed with his rank pips to
intentionally wreak havoc on his senses and it always did. The sensual heat emanating from her eyes and
the alluring tone of her voice seemed to raise the room temperature ten
degrees. Mon Dieu, she was
beautiful. Of course the young man had
been enthralled by her, what man wouldn't be?
He lowered his face until his lips were just a hairsbreadth from hers
and teasingly surmised, "at which point you no doubt replied that you were
flattered while a lovely blush slightly colored your cheeks."
"More or less," she hedged, not wanting to
admit just how accurate his supposition had been. She drew in the clean, masculine scent of his aftershave with
every breath. Her gaze focused on the
firm set of his mouth. She yearned for
his kiss, the mere thought of his lips taking command of hers enough to trigger
butterflies in her stomach.
"Was
that flattering remark what you found so reminiscent of the first time you met
Will?" he whispered against her mouth just before seizing it in a deep,
ravenous kiss. Pulling her against him,
his arms encircled her tiny waist. His
tongue hungrily delved into every corner of her mouth savoring the sweet taste.
A surge of arousal washed over her from the coarse
rasp of his tongue along the sensitive depths of her mouth. With his strong arms wrapped around her, the
warmth of his embrace seeped through her gown.
The fluttering in her stomach hardened into a tight knot of need. When Jean-Luc's mouth finally released hers,
she unabashedly rhapsodized, "he also said that if beauty were time, I'd
be an eternity."
"That sound like vintage Will Riker," he
noted wryly, his mouth sliding from hers to explore the soft skin of her neck
as his hands found the first clasp on the back of her gown. Swiftly targeting the spot below her earlobe
that always drove her to distraction, he nuzzled the tender skin and felt her
pulse quicken beneath his lips.
"So, you chose to be as mysterious as the stars."
The timbre of his masterful voice reverberating
against the sensitive skin of her neck in concert with his fingers adroitly
undoing each clasp sent shivers of desire racing along her spine. The sensations spread across her breasts,
the nipples hardening against her clothes.
"I don't --"
He rebuked her equivocation with a gentle nip. "It was obvious the young man was taken
aback to discover your identity."
"You fleetboys are pretty
resourceful." Not sounding the
least bit apologetic, she emphasized her words by taking a step backward out of
his arms and rolling her shoulders to allow her evening gown to glide from her
body. "I knew he'd figure it out -
eventually."
Picard's breath lodged in his throat as the
glittering gown slid down to expose the lush curves of her breasts overwhelming
the confines of her gold satin strapless brassiere. His gaze followed the dress as it slipped down her slender waist
to reveal the creamy skin of her midriff and then past the feminine flare of
her hips to unveil a skimpy pair of matching panties. The dress skimmed down the shapely length of her legs to the
floor, leaving the bewitching vamp standing before him clad only in sparkling
jewelry, high-heels, silk stockings, brassiere and panties. His voice was huskier than it had been just
moments earlier. "In other words
you didn't tell him that you were already spoken for much less who had spoken
for you."
The lust smoldering in those piercing eyes was
unmistakable. While raising her left
hand and wiggling her ring finger to cause the largest diamond in her wedding
ring to catch the light, she contended blithely, "my marital status is
hardly what one would call inconspicuous."
"You know full well that ring went unnoticed,"
he countered, fighting to rein in his own needs. As always, her challenges affected him like a powerful
aphrodisiac. His hands gripped the
upper edge of his dress uniform jacket and, in one swift motion, ripped the
snaps open down the front pulling it off and discarding it to the floor. She was playing him with the consummate
skill of a virtuoso, deliberately provoking him with her little lascivious cat
and mouse game. He quickly stripped off
his dress shirt and t-shirt dropping them to join his jacket on the floor.
With
his lean, hard body stripped to the waist, he was overpoweringly male. Vash slowly trailed a fingertip down through
the coarse hair on the muscular wall of his chest past the tapering lines of
his torso to the waistband of his trousers feeling the taut muscles contract
beneath her touch. Basking in their
always-incendiary chemistry, she goaded him even further, "being married
to a living legend means never having to introduce yourself."
He swiftly captured her small hand to stop her from
going any further. Raising her hand to
his lips, he placed a kiss on the back of her hand. He stared into her lovely face and informed her in a smooth,
honeyed baritone, "except when a man has helplessly fallen into the depths
of those mysterious and beautiful blue eyes."
"My eyes?"
She feigned a pout. "If
it's only my eyes then I'm more out of practice than I thought."
"Damn
tease," he growled playfully while dragging her hard against him. "Any 'fleetboy' would love to bend you
over the nearest piece of furniture."
"And is that what the legendary Captain of the
Enterprise wants to do tonight, bend his naughty wife over a piece of
furniture?" Vash solicited
salaciously. Still confined in her
brassiere, her breasts, swollen and demanding in their need, were crushed
against solid wall of his chest. His
choice of words had inspired a lusciously wicked image, prompting her to
challenge him, "or will he decide to take me over his knee?"
Immediately he realized the direction she had selected
for this evening's diversion. He never
initiated this particular game, but he was more than willing to indulge her
with the comeuppance she obviously wanted and on many occasions richly
deserved. "Turning your backside
from cream to a lovely shade of pink."
In a flash, Vash found herself being gently but
firmly hauled over his knee as he sat on the edge of their bed. Her wrists were easily secured in one of his
larger hands, which left his other hand free to unfasten and discard her
brassiere. Her body instinctively
responded to his display of pure masculine virility. God, she was already wet.
The smooth satin of her panties tingled against her skin as he slowly
slipped them down the length of her legs to drop them to the floor. Her feet kicked out, partly to send the
shoes tumbling across the floor, but with an element of eager anticipation of
what was to come. The stockings were
stripped off as well, leaving her completely bare to him. The heat of his hand sliding up her thigh to
cup her derriere made her shiver. When
he lightly patted the supple curve to bounce the pliant flesh against his palm,
she nearly whimpered before collecting herself and instead turned his name into
a seductive purr, "Jean-Luc."
Steeling
his resolve, he pushed his own needs aside.
It wasn't easy to ignore the pressure of her hips against his own
painfully-tight trousers, but the reward would be worth it in the end. The first three swats were not hard enough
to sting but forceful enough to get her attention. "So you do remember your husband's name."
"S'il vous plait, Mon Capitaine," she
pleaded whimpering in frustration from the first few tantalizing strokes.
"And you remember his rank -- very
good." He continued delivering
swats to her backside hard enough to sting, each one punctuated by a resounding
thwack. "Next time a man
introduces himself, little girl, maybe you'll remember to mention your name as
well as your husband's." The blows came faster and more forcefully and he
enjoyed the lovely shade of crimson that the perfectly-proportioned roundness
of her backside was beginning to take on. "So the man will know that
you're already spoken for and by whom."
The first blows had been almost tentative, but they
quickly started building in intensity.
Each blow was more forceful than the one before and the cumulative
effect created a heat that radiated through her body. It was getting difficult to tell when he was actually striking
her, the stinging and the pain was mingling and at times he would pause to give
a blow time to sink in only to follow with several quick blows. Her thighs were shaking, need pulsed almost
painfully through her and her hips felt like they were on fire. She was close, so close. With a broken moan, she acquiesced,
"Oui, Mon Capitaine."
Picard knew Vash's body, its every response, and
those familiar signals of her passion told him she was nearing that sweet
precipice. He stopped the spanking,
taking great satisfaction in the desperate whimper that escaped her lips. He longed to run his hand over the hot,
flushed skin of her shapely derriere and past the damp folds of flesh at the
apex of her thighs to find the swollen bud begging for his attention. However, that would send her over the edge
and he wasn't willing to do that just yet.
He lifted her off his lap, placed her on the bed and stood up.
Rolling
up onto her knees, Vash brought her hands up his waistband to swiftly open his
trousers while crushing her mouth to his in a voracious kiss. Their tongues entangled, she pulled his
tongue back into her mouth, encouraging him to explore the deepest
recesses. She wrapped her hand around
his hardened length and took up a familiar rhythm, savoring the contrast in
textures of rock-solid hardness covered by soft, velvety skin. Oh yes, he was so hot and hard in her hand,
which sent an answering rush of liquid heat flooding through her. She wanted him, needed him to slake the
overwhelming lust he always ignited in her.
Her eyes fluttered open when he broke the kiss.
Cupping
Vash's chin in his hand to keep her gaze locked with his, he drank in the raw
carnal hunger written plainly on her lovely features. The earlier playfulness gave way to fiercely primal emotions. In a voice rough with his own desires, he
commanded simply, "Tell me."
"My body, heart and soul belong only to the man
who fought for me at Nottingham, my hero who rescued me from the castle
tower," she vowed fervently. The
intensity in his voice and eyes sent a frisson through her. Although there had been many other daring
rescues where he had protected her and fought for her, his duel with Sir Guy
over her was always the most salient.
It was the first time he had displayed the true depths of his love for
her. "Je suis a toi, Jean-Luc."
Her ardent pledge drove his own burning passions up
another notch. Holding her face tilted
upward, his mouth descended on hers in a fiercely possessive kiss. He urged Vash's body backward, laying her on
the bed before reluctantly breaking off the kiss. Swiftly removing his boots and trousers, his hungry gaze raked
over her nude length sprawled on his bed.
Joining her, he gently nudged her legs apart and ran the tip of his
tongue along the soft skin of her inner thigh, causing the tense muscles to
quiver as she tightly clutched the bedding.
His nostrils flared slightly when he caught the scent of her
arousal. He wanted nothing more than to
bury himself deep inside her, to claim possession of her, but not until he had
her total, unconditional surrender. He
lowered his mouth to suckle her very core, his tongue teasing the swollen bud
before thrusting inside to penetrate and fill her throbbing wetness. His tongue flicked and stroked her,
alternately plunging inside to caress the trembling depths. She mindlessly twisted under his
ministrations her whimpers increasing in their intensity telling him that she
was once again approaching the threshold.
Still wanting to keep her just short of her pleasure, he forced himself
to stop until her body had calmed just enough.
Then his mouth and tongue resumed the teasing pace. Knowing her body's rhythm as if it was his
own, he was able to take her to the very edge and tether her there. Twice more, he took her to the brink, not
giving her enough to climax, but not allowing her to relax. His mouth trailed up the taut,
sweat-dampened body writhing beneath him.
His hands cupped her breasts manipulating each hard, straining nipple with
his thumbs. Drawn by the irresistible
lure of those firm mounds, he traced the swell of her breasts with his tongue
before placing an open mouth kiss at the center of her cleavage. His lips imprisoned the nipple of one of her
breasts and he leisurely swirled his tongue over the taut peak. He nipped lightly at the hardened crest then
began suckling strongly.
Vash arched toward Jean-Luc, the moist heat of his
tongue bathing the aching crest only added to the sensations he evoked every
time he sucked on it. He feasted on one
breast and then the other, sending shockwaves over her inflamed nerves. She was lost in the pleasure consuming her
body. With the skill of a maestro, his
manipulations had taken her to the brink only to leave her pulsing uncontrollably
and dripping wet with unsatisfied need.
Just when she thought she could stand no more, he pulled back. With his arms braced on either side of her
shoulders, he hovered above her waiting.
Her hands glided along his powerful arms to grip the solid, bulging
biceps. Small whimpers punctuated her
ragged breathing as she desperately implored him, "Prends moi, Jean-Luc .
. . S'il vous plait, Jean-Luc . . . Prends moi."
"Oui, Vash," he rasped with masculine
satisfaction, entering her with one deep, powerful thrust, his body completely
filling hers. Unleashing the tight rein
he had held on his own needs, he set a cadence that was a rhythm of furious
intensity. He drove himself deep inside
her with long, hard strokes, pulling himself almost completely out before
plunging back into her. The slick
depths of her body were hot and tight, gripping him with each thrust,
frantically clenching at him. Fiercely,
he pounded into her, driving himself deep inside her with each stroke.
She
twisted up to meet his every motion as he drove into her hard and fast, his
body violently plummeting into her to bury deep inside her with each
thrust. Every muscle in her body
strained, reaching for the pinnacle that he had kept just beyond her
grasp. In the end, she would be
rewarded with an ecstasy beyond description.
The overpowering pressure mounting inside her magnified every sensation
adding to her raging need. She could
feel every ridge of his hard length driving into the heated depths of her
body. She was struggling for air yet
she heard herself crying out his name, over and over, louder and louder. A swell of desire began blossoming, a crest
of pleasure that was still increasing.
The tension that he had been building in her finally detonated in a
fulminating crescendo. Her entire body
rocked with an overpowering climax that came in wave after wave of bliss
crashing over her. Lost in a whirl of
sensation, the orgasm lifted her out of any awareness to total blackness.
The
breathtaking sight of her uninhibited responses as she surrendered to mindless
bliss mesmerized him. Hearing his name
on her lips in sweet cries of ecstasy along with her body clamping
spasmodically around him threatened to send him over the abyss. He thrust into her over and over, feeling
her entire body collapse, overwhelmed with pleasure and deep inside him a
deluge broke loose. He made one, final,
powerful thrust, holding himself deep inside her, as his own explosive release
consumed him.
With her breathing labored and spasms still coursing
through her trembling body, Vash slowly became aware of her surroundings. With a sigh of appreciation, she marveled,
"Damn!"
"I'll take that as a compliment," he
remarked with a small self-deprecating smile.
"As it was intended," she cooed the
expected retort. Watching him situate
them both under the covers, she murmured, "Je t' aime."
"Je t' aime, Vash," he whispered gently
kissing her forehead before settling down.
For several moments, she shifted restlessly next to him until she
finally flipped onto her stomach with a grunt.
He suddenly realized that the combination of the spanking and the
friction from their recent physical exertions had most likely left Vash's
backside slightly chafed.
"Sore?"
"Note to self – certain proclivities should only
be indulged when there is a sufficient recovery time," she grumbled good-naturedly.
"Would you like me to kiss it and make it
better?" he offered teasingly.
She looked over at him and smirked. "Tempting, but if you do that it would
probably just lead to more nocturnal transmissions, which is what got me in this
position to begin with."
Laughing at her double entendre, he replied,
"you are so fun to be married to."
............................................
Commander Data set a moderate pace as he walked along
the corridors of the new Enterprise.
The speed was slower than his usual velocity; however, he had observed
that a more rapid foot speed seemed to discourage individuals from interacting
with him in the halls. While he had a
complete set of schematics for the ship in his memory, many of the people whom
he encountered in the corridor were struggling to find their way around. He patiently paused each time to direct them
to their desired location, seeing in those encounters the opportunity to
develop rapport with the ship's population.
Much of the day-to-day operations that he was now responsible for seemed
trivial to him: resolving interpersonal
disputes, addressing personal issues unrelated to ship's operations and, at
this point, the assigning and re-assigning of personal quarters to accommodate
individuals and their families to the extent possible. He had begun to develop a rating scale to
assign importance to each issue brought to his attention. Data had noted that Riker, in his tenure as
First Officer, always appeared to take each matter seriously and that response
seemed to have a positive effect on the individual regardless of the
outcome. To this end, one factor in his
calculation was the perceived importance of the presenting issue to the individual
involved.
Reaching his destination, he activated the door
chime. The only office that he did not
have the authority to enter without permission was the captain's ready room,
but it seemed rude and presumptuous to simply walk in. Beyond his new rank and status on the ship,
common courtesy was still an important part of everyday interactions. When the door slid open, he stepped inside.
Chakotay was sitting in one of the chairs in front of
his desk engaged in conversation with a member of his First Contact unit. At the arrival of his commanding officer, he
respectfully stood. "Commander
Data."
"Commander Chakotay," Data acknowledged him
before turning to the other individual.
"Mr. Yarnek, it is good to see you again. I was, in fact, on my way to speak with you next. Some of the teachers in the Education
Department have expressed a desire for you to speak with the children about
Excalbian culture and physiology, if that would be acceptable to you."
"Of course, Commander," Yarnek said. "I would be delighted. Perhaps the children would like to see what
a G'Gugvuntt or Vl'hurg looked like before their unfortunate demise."
Data gave the appearance of considering the matter as
there was no benefit to pointing out his inadequacy to speculate on the
enjoyment of children. "I am
certain that your presence will be enjoyable in whatever form you choose to
display."
"I'll just go make those arrangements right
now," Yarnek said. "Commander
Chakotay, I would very much like to continue our discussion of those Voth some
other time. If you will both excuse
me."
"Of course," Chakotay replied. "I'll look forward to it."
After Yarnek had gone, Data handed Chakotay a
PADD. "I have rearranged the duty
roster; I will require you to work one additional shift of bridge duty each
week for the next month."
"All right," he accepted the PADD and
quickly transferred the information to his computer station. Handing the PADD back to Data, he
continued. "Is there a problem?"
"No, merely that Lieutenant Johnson's wife gave
birth two hours ago. I am altering the
schedule to allow him time off to spend with his wife and infant
daughter."
Chakotay grinned, just shaking his head. "The expedition is barely a full day
out and the first baby had already been born.
That's cheating."
Data cocked his head. "Cheating? You would
not be referring to some sort of illicit wagering on the reproductive
capabilities of the female population, would you, Mr. Chakotay?"
"Of course not, Commander."
"On the subject of wagering," Data
continued. "In reviewing duty
schedules, I believe that Thursday evening at 1930 hours would be a suitable
time for our poker games. This
suggested day and time is acceptable to Captain Picard. Is it acceptable for you?"
Chakotay nodded.
"Thursday, 1930; do we have a location?"
"My quarters," Data said. "Even though she is no longer a member
of the Enterprise crew, Captain Crusher is still welcome to join us if she
wishes."
"I'll let her know."
Data paused at the office door. "And with regard to the illicit
wagering you were not commenting on earlier, Commander, I believe that Dr.
Pulaski won the pool. That is
cheating."
Chakotay just laughed. "Yes, sir."
............................................
Vash squinted against the harsh light of the arid
desert landscape while idly wondering about the propensity of settlers to chose
environments just as miserable as the place they left. This particular ancient ruin brought to mind
the phrase 'hot as Vulcan.' Due to the
location of the small planet deep in Romulan space, this expedition would be
the first to have a chance to excavate these ruins. From the looks of things, they were the first sentient life forms
to set foot here since they were abandoned.
She started over to where Latona and Somnus were working to unearth a
small structure. The two Romulan
archaeologists were a married couple and the newest members of her department.
"At least it's a dry heat," Lieutenant Sean
Kennely quipped.
Archaeologist Karita Leigh pushed a stray lock of
dark, curly hair from her face. Rolling
her eyes at the handsome security officer, she retorted, "So is an
anti-matter explosion, Sean. I still
don't want to sit in the middle of one."
As she passed them, Vash gave her young protégé a
thumbs-up for the remark. Karita's
confidence in her own abilities had gone up dramatically once she had received
her doctorate. Of course her romantic
relationship with Kennely had probably done more to quell her nervous response
to Starfleet officers. Karita still
tended to become slightly flustered around Jean-Luc; however, since mon
capitaine had saved the young woman's life twice, she was willing to spot her
that one. Vash approached the area
where the Romulans were working and saw Latona scanning an ancient tablet that
had been partially excavated. Just at
the moment she reached them, Somnus stepped back, nearly bumping into her as he
muttered a Romulan curse. Vash wasn't
sure of the exact literal translation of the obscenity but knew it had the same
basic connotation as the phrase 'oh shit.'
Leaning in for a closer look, her eyes went wide. If this was what it appeared to be, it could
be the find of a lifetime. The
potentially catastrophic results were also not lost on her. For the moment, however, there were protocols
to contend with. Straightening up and
stepping back, her tone brooked no argument, "Evacuate the site, now! Return to the beam down point."
Striding past him, Vash shook her head no to Kennely
who had begun to reach for his phaser.
She slapped her communicator, "Picard to Crusher, we have a
possible biohazard. Repeat, we have a
possible biohazard at the archaeology site.
Request medical personnel to evaluate."
Onboard the Pasteur, Beverly Crusher instinctively
began to stand up. She immediately
forced herself to sit back down in her command chair with a softly muttered
curse. While tapping commands into her
armrest, she responded, "A biohazard team is being dispatched, Professor. Please have your team return to the
transport coordinates to begin decontamination procedures."
"Acknowledged," Vash responded.
At
the beam down point, Vash took a moment to do a quick head count. Karita, Latona and Somnus were comparing
findings and tricorder readings, three other assistants and a couple of
researchers from other departments were looking at her a bit bewildered by the
abrupt departure. Kennely stood quietly
by her side, his hand hovering near his phaser. Once she was satisfied that all personnel were accounted for,
there was another matter that needed to be addressed. She pulled Karita and the Romulans aside; the others hadn't been
anywhere near the tablet. "Since
we'll obviously have some down time here until the medical departments sort
things out, I want to make something clear.
I realize that what we've stumbled onto here is a momentous find and I'm
sure you all realize the significant political ramifications that go with
it. You are all to continue your
analyses, but you are not to discuss the details with anyone outside this team
until further notice."
"Understood," Karita said tersely, the
gravity of the find obvious in her brisk, professional tone.
Sharing an uneasy glance with his wife, Somnus turned
to Karita and noted quietly, "you seem unconcerned considering our tenuous
situation?"
"The biohazard protocols are --"
"Not the biohazard," Somnus cut her
off. "I refer to what Professor
Picard termed the political ramifications.
Under these circumstances, the best we can hope for is the loss of our
careers and professional standings as Parcae.
It is quite conceivable that we could lose our lives."
Vash had walked over to explain to the others only
that they had uncovered the suggestion of a biohazard at the site and were
waiting for medical personnel to evaluate the situation. Returning to her team, she overheard the
last part of Somnus' concern and the dread in his voice. She hadn't considered the personal
implications of their find to someone used to working under a totalitarian
regime. Before she had reached the
group and could reassure the two Romulan members of her team, she heard Karita
speak up.
"That's not how things work in the Federation
and this is a Federation expedition."
"A Federation expedition working in Romulan
space," Somnus reminded her.
Karita
gave a dismissive wave of her hand.
"You're members of Professor Picard's team now; part of the
Enterprise personnel and Captain Jean-Luc Picard is responsible for us. Captain Picard would never let anything
happen to anyone from his ship."
"You sound quite convinced of his
protection," Latona observed, sounding just as uneasy as her husband.
"With good reason; I'm speaking from personal
experience," Karita sent a quick grin in Sean's direction.
Somnus inquired skeptically, "and what is expected
in return for this protection?"
"Only that we do our job," Karita noted
succinctly.
'Atta girl' Vash thought to herself quite pleased by
the way her assistant had handled the situation. Re-joining the group, she held her hand out for the tricorder
that Karita was holding. "Have you managed to consolidate all of our
findings to this point?"
"Yes, ma'am." Karita handed her the
tricorder.
"Thank you." Vash took the tricorder and began studying the findings. Her attention was drawn away from the
tricorder when the biohazard team from the Pasteur began beaming down at the
same time that Commander Chakotay beamed down from the Enterprise. She immediately recognized the Pasteur's
Chief of Security, Lieutenant Commander Mark Randall. Raised on a ranch in Montana, the handsome officer had
periodically been on Vash's own security detail. "Hey, Cowboy."
"Miss me?"
Randall smiled at Mrs. Picard's nickname for him from behind his
biohazard gear.
"Now Mark, you were stationed on the Enterprise
long enough to know never to give her an opening like that," Chakotay
chided good-naturedly from behind his own biohazard gear. After Randall and his team moved off toward
the site, he turned his attention to Vash.
"I didn't expect to need my new biohazard certification this
quickly. What have you got?"
"All preliminary scans showed no biotoxins
present in the soil or air. Everything
was proceeding normally until we discovered this. I decided to err on the side of caution." She handed him a
holorecorder with an image frozen on the screen.
"Well, I think I recognize that squiggle
there," he said, reviewing the images she showed him. "But being as I'm not as well-versed in
ancient languages as you are, could you give me a clue as to what I'm looking
at here?"
Vash accessed the information she had on her
tricorder and rapidly entered a rough translation of the section that he was
looking at. She held it up to him. "How about now?"
To his credit he maintained his composure in spite of
the magnitude of the situation. Handing
the recorder back to her, he continued, "you made the right call to
evacuate the site. For future
reference, however, once you had seen to the evacuation of the site, you should
have reported the biohazard threat to the head of the Enterprise's Department
of Anthropological Sciences – specifically to me. I would have contacted the Pasteur for a team to assess the
situation."
"I just automatically called Bev-- Beverly isn't
on the Enterprise anymore," Vash corrected herself mid-sentence.
"No. My
wife called me from the bridge of her ship to find out what kind of trouble my
archaeology team had gotten themselves into," he gently rebuked. "I had to say 'I don't know but I'll
just go find out'."
"Oops."
Chakotay shook his head with exasperation. "Vash, I don't question that you're an
experienced and either very gifted or very lucky field archaeologist. That expertise makes you a very valuable
asset to my department, emphasis on the 'my'.
I'm well aware that you're used to having your own department and
reporting directly to a man who enjoys seeing you naked. You are now part of a much larger department
for which I am responsible. I am
prepared to give you a great deal of latitude when it comes to that whole
'following orders' notion, but I would appreciate it if you could meet me
halfway and at least pretend to follow the chain of command."
"Sure, why not," she answered
blithely. "Whether as the Queen Bee
or the council's problem child, I've never been completely unreasonable."
"I have become well-acquainted with your
imaginative definition of reasonable in the time I've known you and I have
handled much more challenging individuals than you without bloodshed. There is a reason that the King felt very
comfortable putting me in a position to oversee his Queen Bee."
Giving
him her most disarming smile, she handed him the recorder and her
tricorder. "Of course, that means
you get to be the one to go back upstairs and inform the King about the very
hot potato that just landed in his lap."
He returned both of them to her and retorted,
"Oh no. I'm going to stay here and
oversee the biohazard team. I'm going
to delegate that particular joy to you."
"Oh rapture." Vash rolled her eyes.
............................................
In his ready room, Picard gave up trying to make
sense of the latest report from Astrometrics and laid the PADD down. With a possible biohazard at the archaeology
site, his concern for Vash intruded on his thoughts making it virtually
impossible to concentrate on anything else.
Picking up his empty cup, he rose from the couch to make his way over to
the replicator. It had been several
hours since Commander Chakotay had advised him that he was beaming down to
assess the situation. The transporter
room had confirmed beaming the members of the landing party to the Sickbay
decon facility shortly after that, but there had been no further updates since
then. "Tea, Earl Grey, hot."
He took a sip of his tea knowing there was nothing to
be gained by pacing his ready room.
Heading to Sickbay wasn't really an option as much as he wanted to;
Katherine Pulaski was not one to cut him the slack that Beverly had. He would not be welcome in her Sickbay
unless he had a very compelling reason and his wife being evaluated wouldn't
qualify. She'd provide a report at her
first convenience and that would have to be sufficient. He briefly thought about contacting the
surface for a report. Vash's report of
a biohazard situation clearly put the ball in Beverly's court, which meant that
the personnel evaluating the situation on the surface were her people, not his,
with the exception of Commander Chakotay.
With forced patience, he settled himself back onto the couch and picked
up the PADD containing the Astrometrics report. A short time later his attention was again drawn from his reading
efforts by his ready room door opening.
He looked up to see Vash walk into the room still in dressed in her
field gear, holding a PADD. Her dusty
khaki work shirt and pants only served to accentuate the sun-kissed glow her
hair and skin had taken on during the last few days working on the planet
below. Her presence meant that she had
already been cleared and released by the medical staff. He tossed the PADD he had been holding to
the coffee table in front of the couch and leaned back. "Well, this is a relief."
"I called the biohazard more as a precaution
than anything else," she explained apologetically. "You can forget any horrid images you
had in your head of reenacting some tragic scene from 'Wuthering Heights' or
'The Lady of the Camellias.' I'm fine,
everybody's fine."
Standing up, he tugged on the hem of his jacket while
making his way to his desk. "I
really hate it when you do that."
"When I surmise your unspoken fears or when I
inadvertently facilitate them?"
"Both," he replied sitting down in his
chair. Gesturing to the PADD in her
hand, he asked, "Is that the preliminary report from the Anthropology
Department?"
Vash perched herself on the corner of his desk. "I come bearing good news and bad
news. Which do you want first?"
As far as he was concerned there was no better news
than her walking into his ready room.
"Let's start with the good news."
"The archaeology team has discovered a
previously unknown writing by Surak of Vulcan, moreover the tablet is inscribed
by Surak's own hand." She watched
her husband's usually unflappable demeanor change as the weight of her words
sank in.
"There are no known originals of Surak's
writings in existence," he uttered, stunned by the news of the find.
"I am aware of that," she replied.
"Are you sure about the artifact's
authenticity?" he inquired only to immediately answer himself, "of
course you are. Vash, this is an
extraordinary find, the find of the century.
What bad news could there be?"
"I worked up a translation of the tablet for
you." She handed him the PADD.
Taking the PADD, he read aloud, "I, Surak, by my
hand declare that the needs of the many logically outweigh the needs of the one
or the few. Circumstances therefore
regretfully require the exile of these few.
The detriment to the health and welfare of the community posed by these
individuals is far too great to allow them to remain as part of this
community. The illness suffered by
these individuals must not be permitted to spread beyond these few to the
community at large. The consequences
would be far too catastrophic to contemplate and every effort, including involuntary
and, if necessary, forcible exile, must be undertaken to ensure the protection
of the community from this disease."
"Maybe calling it bad news was a bit of an
understatement," Vash quipped.
Picard weighed the ramifications carefully. "So, the fearless and defiant Romulans
who marched beneath the Raptor's wings were the victims of fear regarding some
sort of contagious disease and the great Surak of Vulcan used logic to
rationalize that fear."
"That's one interpretation that neither side is
likely going to embrace," she pointed out soberly.
He
rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"This is going to be a diplomatic conundrum that will have to be
handled very carefully."
Vash stood and strode part way across the room to put
some space between them, uncharacteristically struggling for the right words to
express the concern she'd had since they'd found the tablet. She spun on her heel to face him, her
posture almost defensive and employing her most austere lecture voice. "Handle it however you want,
Captain. I warn you that under no
circumstances will I submit to having my research findings or the findings of
any member of my team altered to suit a political agenda. Science and politics make very distasteful
bedfellows."
"Stand down, Professor. I'd never allow that to happen," he
soothed. It had never even occurred to
him that she would let convenience dictate her conclusions. Seeing her expression soften, he continued,
"as soon as the Pasteur's biohazard team gives the all clear, you and your
team may return to the site to resume your research. I am ordering that all ongoing research and analysis are to be
considered strictly classified. No
unauthorized personnel will be permitted to assist with excavation or visit the
site for any reason. All communications
on the subject are to go straight to Commander Chakotay."
"Done, done and done," she agreed. None of his conditions were unexpected
considering the nature of the find. She
turned to leave.
"Vash," he called out.
She stopped and turned back to see him walking toward
her appearing every inch the consummate starship captain, Starfleet's legendary
hero. Her breath caught in her throat
at the devotion plainly reflected in those piercing eyes.
"Je
t' aime," he whispered, tenderly brushing the smooth skin of her cheek
with the back of his fingers before combing them through her silky tresses.
"Je t' aime," she echoed as she softly
leaned into his caress. Her eyes
fluttered shut as he swept her into his arms.
His lips claimed hers in a deeply impassioned kiss, his tongue slipping
past her parted lips to gently stroke the warm, moist cavern of her mouth. Gradually the kiss intensified until his
tongue fiercely plundered the depths of her mouth. She matched his passion, her tongue eagerly meeting the demands
of his. Arching into him, she could
feel the entire length of his hard, muscular form against every inch of her
own, quickly-overheating body. She knew
they should stop—needed to stop.
Reluctantly, she splayed her hands across his chest and pushed herself
back slightly. Gazing up at him, her
voice was slightly breathless, "Damn.
I have work to do and so do you."
............................................
In the archaeology lab, Lieutenant Commander Lar disconnected
his PADD from the door mechanism and replaced the panel cover. "That'll do it, Professor; your lab has
been placed on restricted access. I
have downloaded a list of authorized personnel who will be permitted
entrance. Anyone not on that list can
only be admitted by Commander Chakotay or yourself. Yes, Professor, before you ask Captain Picard is on the
authorized list of individuals with access.
He does not need your permission to enter, nor do I. No, Professor, I will not remove him from that
list just for your amusement. Yes,
Professor, I am quite the party-pooper."
Vash tried to pout but her chuckles ruined the
effect. "You are very good at your
job and deserve to be Chief of Security, Geoffrey, but I do miss you on my
security details."
The door chimed an alert, interrupting his
answer. He quickly accessed the
computer console. "Dr. Pulaski is
requesting entry," he said.
"Computer, let Dr. Pulaski in," Vash
ordered. "Doctor, what can I do
for you?"
Lar waited for Pulaski to enter and nodded to Vash as
he left.
"I'm here to see if you've translated anything
that might help the medical personnel determine what we're dealing with,"
Pulaski said. "So far nothing has
turned up in scans of you, your people or on the planet surface. The biohazard team has transmitted some
footage of what they think is writing of some kind; I thought that combined
with what you've already got here from the excavation, you might be able to
find some clues. I can't make heads or
tails of this material, I'm no archaeologist."
"Neither is Jean-Luc, although, I let him
pretend he is from time to time," Vash quipped. She turned to address her team.
"I'm sure everyone here has at least met Dr. Pulaski. In an effort to facilitate the biohazard
team's search on the surface, she needs us look for any specific references to
the illness or its symptoms. Karita,
the biohazard team sent us some recordings from the surface. You and Somnus start reviewing it to see if
anything jumps out at you. We'll do a
more thorough translation later, just scan for anything related to
disease."
A short time later, Karita wore an intent expression
while rechecking the translation of the section of text she had been working
on. She glanced up. "Professor Picard, I've found something
you and Dr. Pulaski should see."
"Let's take a look," Vash offered as she
and Pulaski made their way over to her.
Karita
pointed at the relevant passage, "this section here describes individuals
suffering from brain fever and convulsions."
Pulaski addressed the two Romulans. "Are there any medical conditions that
you are aware of which cause symptoms like that?"
"From these references, the text would appear to
be describing a condition known as Ragnok fever," Somnus said, scanning further
into the material. "It's a common illness among my people. I had not realized how long it has been
affecting my people."
"Is it contagious?" Pulaski asked, concern
for the ship's complement once again becoming paramount in her mind.
"Yes, Doctor; it is highly contagious,"
Latona answered. "But it is a mild
ailment that most of us contract during childhood. Aside from the
fever and convulsions, people around the affected feel a vague sense of
physical and emotional distress coming from the afflicted."
Pulaski looked up from the notes she had been
making. "You mean like telepathic
projections?"
"More like empathic projections," Somnus
corrected her. "No real
thoughts, just a sense of the emotional and physical discomfort that the
individual suffering is experiencing."
Latona continued.
"The feelings of children are mild and easy for adults to endure
for the course of the fever. Once an
individual has experienced Ragnok fever, they are immune to it; for that
reason, parents will intentionally expose their children to the fever. Adult cases of Ragnok fever are exceedingly
rare and the intensity of the emotional projections are much more
severe. Individuals are
institutionalized for the duration of their symptoms. If they survive, they are released after the fever has run its
course."
"If they survive?" Vash echoed. She no longer felt like calling the
biohazard had been an overreaction.
"Adult cases, while rare," Latona said,
"are more frequently fatal. I do
not recall any childhood cases that resulted in death but there are usually a
couple of adult deaths each year."
"Thank you, this is helpful," Pulaski
offered to both Romulans. Turning to
Vash, she continued, "I'm going to head back to Sickbay. I'd like to cross reference this material
with the medical database that the Romulans supplied."
"Latona, would you please join Dr. Pulaski in
Sickbay to help her with any questions she might have about Ragnok fever and
this translation?" Vash requested.
"Of course," Latona answered, following Dr.
Pulaski out.
Vash
nodded to her assistant. "Nice
job, Karita. I'm going to head upstairs
and fill in Mon Capitaine –"
Karita held out a hand to stop her. "No, you're not."
"What do you mean 'no, I'm not'?"
"Commander Chakotay," Karita reminded her
mentor. "You did promise him that
you would at least pretend to follow the chain of command."
............................................
Beverly was already in her chair at the head of the
conference table on the Pasteur reviewing reports with her Chief Medical
Officer, Dr. Julian Bashir, when Picard arrived with Pulaski, Deanna and
Chakotay. There was an awkward moment
initially since Picard was unaccustomed to not being at the head of the table
and she was not accustomed to being there.
After a silent exchange of glances, Picard took a seat at the opposite
end of the table. Riker arrived from
the Titan just then and everyone took their seats. This was the protocol that they'd established for the
expedition: whichever ship had the lead
on a particular matter hosted the joint briefings. The Pasteur would handle bio-medical situations, the Titan would
handle military and expedition security with the Enterprise responsible for
everything else. If the archaeology
personnel hadn't called in a potential biohazard, they'd be meeting in Picard's
conference room right now. Under the
circumstances, she had the lead and as such it was her briefing to run.
"Let's get started."
At a nod from Crusher, Bashir began his report. "Biohazard protocol was implemented as
a precaution owing to a translation of some ancient writing at the dig site
which referred to some sort of disease.
All personnel on the surface were given complete physicals and the scans
were negative for any contagions. There
were no viral or bacterial agents in soil, water, air or rock samples taken
from the area. Without knowing more
about the disease being referenced, I have to conclude that the disease in
question most likely died out long ago."
Beverly looked to Chakotay. "I haven't received a report on your findings yet. Did anything in the material you've
translated so far give any description of the disease or its symptoms?"
Picard interjected before Chakotay could answer. "I instructed my people to submit their
reports only to me. Given the nature of
the material, I felt it best to discuss the contents face to face once the
preliminary findings had been confirmed.
Captain Riker and you will receive a transcription of the writings and
full analysis following this meeting."
Not sure if she was more frustrated at his matter of
fact reply or indignant at being kept out of the loop on a medical matter, her
response was more terse than she'd intended.
"That information is relevant to the medical evaluation with regard
to safety considerations, Captain Picard.
My people cannot make a final determination without that material; it
would have been helpful to have so that they could be researching the medical
database for references."
"I have been doing some research on that,"
Pulaski said. She slid a PADD toward
Crusher. "The writing refers to
violent outbursts, fever and convulsions.
The Romulan members of the archaeology team believe that the writings
are describing a condition known as Ragnok fever. It's a common ailment among the Romulan population consisting of
brain fever, convulsions and the projection of emotional distress and physical
discomfort to anyone in the vicinity of the afflicted."
"That sounds like Zanthi fever among
Betazeds," Deanna noted, "without the convulsions."
"It's very similar," Pulaski agreed. "Since the Romulans aren't telepathic
anymore, Ragnok fever is a mild ailment.
Interestingly, the projection onto others would suggest that they retain
a latent disposition toward telepathy."
Chakotay offered a clarification. "Back in the time of this writing,
their telepathic abilities would have been more developed, which would have
caused much more extreme projections of emotion and physical pain. That might explain the reference to violent
outbursts in the translation."
Bashir checked the information on his PADD. "The list of individuals on the
archaeology team at the dig site didn't include any Vulcans or other telepaths
who might be affected, but have you scanned the two Romulans for this?"
"Unnecessary," Pulaski replied. "Their medical history indicated that
they'd both had Ragnok fever as children.
The Romulan medical database provided to us shows a specific synapse
that is altered as a result of the illness.
Brain scans of both confirm the presence of scarring on the surface
receptor of the neurons affected by the fever.
They're both immune."
Picard noted Beverly's expression as she studied the
information. "Doctor--I mean
Captain Crusher?"
"According to this," she began,
"Ragnok fever causes neural inflammation in the exact same region of the
brain affected by Bendii syndrome among Vulcans."
"There may be more significance to that than you
realize," Picard said. He nodded
to Chakotay.
Chakotay uploaded an image of the tablet from the dig
site to the viewscreen. "This
artifact found at the dig site is a declaration from Surak ordering an exile
for all individuals and their families afflicted with this disease. This was ordered to prevent its spread to
the rest of the population. Analysis of
the tablet and other materials recovered dates this event to the same time
period during which Vulcans and Romulans diverged."
That got Beverly's attention away from the medical
information. "Are you suggesting
that Romulans are Vulcan outcasts who were shunned because of a disease?"
Chakotay nodded.
"Based on what we've discovered here, it would seem that the split
between the Romulans and the Vulcans was not entirely voluntary on the part of
the Romulans. The rift between the
Romulans and Vulcans is a subject that neither side has historically been
willing to acknowledge or discuss. This
may be why."
"Counselor," Picard addressed Deanna. "Have you finished evaluating the
psychological ramifications of this as I requested?"
"Yes, sir," she replied. "The impact of this discovery will be
significant for both Romulans and Vulcans.
Both races are very proud people and this will challenge their entire
recorded history. It will effectively
threaten their cultural identities, the very foundation of their respective
societies."
Riker sat up straighter and tugged at the sleeve of
his uniform. "Have our Romulans
been secured?"
Chakotay's reaction was instantaneous, his voice soft
but firm. "Secured how?"
"Confined to their quarters," Riker replied
matter-of-factly.
"They haven't done anything to deserve that kind
of treatment," Chakotay countered.
Riker looked to Picard. "You heard what Deanna said. "If the Romulans find out about this--"
"What about the Vulcans?" Chakotay shot back. "She also said that the Vulcans were
likely to be as strongly affected by this as the Romulans. You didn't even think about rounding up the
Vulcans on all three ships, but that was your first thought with the
Romulans. The Romulans on this ship
don't even know what's going on and Latona and Somnus are my people, my
responsibility and I won't--"
"We are deeper in Romulan space than any
Federation ship has ever been," Riker broke in. "The security of this expedition is my responsibility. I'm sure none of the captains at this table
would want their people on the surface of this planet if our Romulan escort
ships drop out of warp and start trying to erase this page from the history books."
Beverly felt like she was losing control of her first
official briefing. They had veered off
into political and military arenas, which would put Picard and Riker at the
forefront. This was still her ship and
she had Romulan scientists whom she had a responsibility to as well. "It seems to me that simply securing
the communications system on all three ships would be enough to prevent anyone
from leaking information on this prematurely."
Picard nodded approvingly. "Agreed, Captain Crusher.
Commander Lar has already done so on the Enterprise."
"I'm just trying to do my job here," Riker
wasn't entirely satisfied with that solution.
"If there's trouble, it'll more likely come from Romulans and no
Federation ships could get here in time to be of any help. The Vulcans aren't known for rash acts of
violence."
Deanna laid her hand on Riker's knee under the table,
sending calming thoughts through their link.
Many of the people on the expedition had personal misgivings about the
small group of Romulans. "This
discovery will portray Romulans as weak, they'll feel as though they're being
seen as victims and outcasts much like lepers of ancient Earth. After recent events, it will further shake
their already frayed sense of cultural identity. For the Vulans, this directly challenges one of the most
respected, almost revered, figures in Vulcan history. Surak is almost a messiah figure to them. All of the pride Vulcans take in their
logical, pragmatic society will be seen as hypocritical in light of this. Vulcans almost reluctantly acknowledge their
violent past, but always follow that acknowledgement with a reference to Surak
and the introduction of logic and pacifism into their lives. For all of his emphasis on logic, it could
be argued that Surak made this decision out of fear and ignorance using logic
to rationalize it after the fact. This could be thought to reflect a small,
fearful figure who acted to protect himself as much as anyone else."
Bashir wasn't sure what to think. "This happened so long ago, I can see
how it might shake up the Romulans after everything that's happened recently,
but would the Vulcans really have a problem with facts--even facts that
contradict their history?"
"Facts that undermine the foundation of
everything they see themselves as?" Beverly's answer came in the form of a
question back to her doctor.
Picard gave the signal that most of the people at the
table recognized as the conclusion of the briefing. "Once the site has been cleared by the Pasteur personnel,
the archaeology teams will be permitted to continue their work. Just in case there are other writings or
material that references either the exile or the disease, I feel that the
excavation should be closed to everyone except essential personnel and their
work classified. Commander Chakotay
will monitor their progress and control all information regarding their
work. He will provide regular updates
to Captains Riker, Crusher and myself.
Once the Anthropology Department has finished their analysis, we can
determine how best to handle the final report."
"I'll run a series of security drills,"
Riker suggested. "That would
enable the Titan to go to yellow alert without raising questions. Just in case."
"Make it so," Picard agreed. "One more thing, I realize that it's
not easy to accept Romulans among us given our history with them. I share that sentiment, but they are members
of this expedition. As long as they
continue to do their jobs and follow the same rules as everyone else, then we
should try to treat them the same way we would any other civilian
scientists. We would ask no less if the
situation were reversed."
............................................
"Are you sure you've been using a strong enough
sunscreen?" The Picards were having
a late dinner in their quarters at the end of a very long day. At least that was the intent, Picard found
it difficult to focus on the meal in front of him.
"What?" Vash looked up from her dinner.
"Your nose looks slightly burnt." Picard reached across the table to tenderly
sweep his finger across the bridge of her nose. "The site's position on the planet receives a great deal of
solar radiation. I was wondering if
you've been properly protecting yourself from it?"
"When I have the time to think about it,"
Vash shrugged.
Having spent a good portion of his day preoccupied
with her safety made his voice tighter than he'd intended. "When you have the time to think about
it? I'm sure Carnarvon, Forrestal, La
Fleur, Rothman, and Sheridan wish they had taken the time to think about a few
things."
"As I recall none of them died from sun
exposure." Setting down her fork,
she forced herself not to roll her eyes.
Now how did she just know this wasn't about her choice of sunscreen?
As much as he loved her brazenly adventurous nature,
sometimes that same fearlessness scared the hell out of him. "My point is that there is no denying
the fact that archaeologists tend to die from unforeseen site hazards. In the late twentieth century, ten out of a
team of twelve research scientists that opened the tomb of Casimir IV, King of
Poland died shortly afterward."
"Jean-Luc, you are literally lecturing to the
professor here." Although she
could certainly appreciate how worrisome this afternoon's events must have been
for him, she was not in the mood this evening to contend with Captain
Overprotective and whatever dangers his imagination had conjured up. "I have taught classes in archaeology
field excavation procedures at numerous major universities. Dr. Smyk's discovery of dangerous types of
fungi on the artifacts that had been removed from the tomb of Casimir IV is one
of the reasons for the preliminary scans to detect biotoxins in the soil and
air. All protocols were followed today
and preliminary scans showed no threat; however, due to the content of the text
we found, I felt it was better to be safe rather than sorry."
"I remember after Lieutenant Marla Aster's death
having to write –" he broke off when she stood up to lean over the table. Her fingertips brushed along his jawline
while she lowered her mouth to his and he lost himself in the sweet taste of
her kiss. Pulling back to end the kiss,
her eyes fluttered open locking with his while she wet her lips with just the
very tip of her tongue.
"God
knows there are times when I just love to poke your buttons, wind you up and
watch you spin like an Barolian top.
But this particular site is very hot and loaded with dust. The decontamination procedures are designed
to decontaminate, not to get rid of the dust and grime so I really want to go
take a shower. Now, you can either sit
there agonizing about all the things that didn't happen to me today or you can
come watch." She finished with an
impish wink that only served to accentuate her come-hither smile before
strutting toward the bedroom while taking off her khaki work shirt.
In light of her relaxed, flirtatious humor, Picard
was having a hard time sustaining his pensive mood and had to concede her
point. Besides, her invitation was one
he could never ignore. Standing up from
the table and following her, he inquired in a charmingly wry tone, "how
long do you plan to use stripping your clothes off as a way to end discussions
with me?"
"As long as it works, baby," she quipped
tossing the shirt at him. Sitting down
on the edge of the bed, she began to unlace her work boots. "Oh, and I wanted to thank you for not
putting any of my team under house arrest after our little discovery."
"Now, where did that come from?" he
inquired casually while placing her shirt in the recycler. The last thing he wanted tonight was an
argument with her about certain things that he and his fellow captains had
discussed.
"It's
very easy to take for granted the freedoms and liberties provided by a society
like ours until you're reminded of them by someone who has lived their entire
lives without them. I was completely
taken by surprise to overhear Latona and Somnus convinced that the political
ramifications of the find meant that they were going to lose their standing as
Parcae." She flopped backward on
the bed swinging her feet slightly.
Obeying the implicit command, he knelt in front of
her to pull her boots off.
"Parcae? I thought that was
a surname?"
"That's what I had originally thought as well,
but I've learned it's a Romulan designation equivalent to a full
professor. Anyway, it wasn't just their
professional standing that had them concerned.
They were actually afraid for their very lives." She sat back up.
"I hope you assured them that wasn't the
case," he replied.
She stood up to take off her work pants. "I didn't get a chance. Karita beat me to it."
"Miss Leigh?" he caught her pants as she
tossed them to him and put them in the recycler as well.
"Yes, Miss Leigh. And you should have heard her." Clad only in white satin bra and panties, Vash moved to stand in
front of him reaching up to trace his rank pips. Her voice became raspy and melodramatic, "You're members of
Professor Picard's team now; part of the Enterprise personnel and Captain
Jean-Luc Picard is responsible for us.
Captain Picard would never let anything happen to anyone from his
ship."
"Vash," he chided, equally distracted by
her near-naked form and her teasing fingertip toying with his pips.
With a giggle, she admitted, "okay, maybe she
wasn't quite that breathless. Karita is
head over heels in love with Sean Kennely but it's obvious she still sees you
as a Heracles-type figure."
"Be that as it may, the important thing is that
the Romulans were assured of their safety," he replied.
"They do have names." Vash lightly patted his chest in
rebuke. "And Karita actually did
quite a good job of soothing them. The
knowledge and skills were there from the beginning. Recently she's shown a lot more confidence in that as well as in
her abilities."
"It sounds like your team is coming along nicely
then."
"Everyone seems to work and play well
together." She headed into the
bathroom and began adjusting controls on the shower. "I was thinking that maybe we should invite Latona and
Somnus to dinner on C-deck one evening soon.
It would be a chance for you spend some time with them and get to know
some Romulan civilians, probably not the Vulcan restaurant, though."
"That's a good idea," he agreed, not
missing the way she emphasized the word civilians. Leaning against the bathroom doorway, he noted playfully,
"water?"
"A sonic shower wasn't going to do tonight. It will clean, but it just can't compete
with the luxuriance of a real water shower." She peeled off her bra and panties and stepped into the
shower. With her back to the spray, her
head rolled back allowing the hot water to cascade down her body. The purifying sensation caused a soft sigh
of contentment to escape her lips. She
reached for the shampoo.
"Actually, I half-expected you to nearly
overflow our tub with one of your bubble baths." He watched her through the translucent shower stall. She was breathtaking, captivating him in a
way no other woman ever had. She raised
her arms to lather shampoo into her hair, the action causing the mounds of her
breasts to jut out evocatively. The
silky tresses fell around her shoulders, her back arching as her fingers combed
through her hair. The rivulets of water
carried the suds down along her neck to the feminine curve of her shoulders and
over the hardened peaks of her breasts.
The frothy lather spilled past the slenderness of her waist and the
flare of her hips to her long, shapely legs.
The alluring sight caused his throat to ache with longing and his body
tightened, growing painfully hard.
"I'll admit I considered one. Nothing beats a good bubble bath for the
aches of over-taxed muscles. I just
really wanted to wash away the dirt of the day," she answered, lathering
up her washcloth. After scrubbing
thoroughly, she closed her eyes and stood there just enjoying the hot water
streaming over her. At the sound of the
shower door, she opened her eyes to see Jean-Luc entering the shower. Had she really stood in there long enough
for him to strip out of his uniform? He
reached out and pulled her into his arms his large hands finding her
derriere. He yanked her roughly against
him, her breasts crushed against the expanse of his chest, the taut nipples
grazing solid muscle. God, he was so
hot and hard, pulsating against her upper thigh. His mouth descended on hers in a ravenous kiss, the coarse rasp
of his tongue along the sensitive depths sending heated waves crashing over her
as his tongue ravaged her mouth.
Gliding over his wet skin, her hands traveled down the masculine slope
of his shoulders to linger on the bulging biceps of his upper arms.
Picard slid his mouth from hers, moving to explore
the soft skin of her neck. Nuzzling the
skin under her earlobe, he muttered, "Damn, that's hot."
Baring her throat to the tender onslaught of his
mouth, she offered, "you can adjust the water temperature –"
"That's not what I meant," he cut her off
with a deep, masculine chuckle. Gently,
his teeth nipped at the delicate skin with his tongue following immediately
with a warm, moist caress. He began to
alternately nibble and lick his way down her throat. His hands slid up her body to cup the full curves of her breasts
and manipulated each hard, straining nipple with his thumbs. His mouth made its way down the silken
expanse of her wet skin toward the full curves in his hands. He traced the swell of her breasts with his
tongue before placing an open mouth kiss at the center of her cleavage. His lips imprisoned the nipple of one of her
breasts and he leisurely swirled his tongue over the taut peak. He nipped lightly at the hardened crest then
began suckling strongly. Her soft
sounds of pleasure, the way her hands clutched at him and the increasingly
frenzied movements of her hips rubbing against him all told him that she was
nearing that sweet precipice. Her
unbridled passion never failed to effect him physically as well as
emotionally.
Vash
arched toward Jean-Luc, the moist heat of his tongue bathing the aching nipple
only added to the thrill he evoked when he sucked on it. His mouth claimed her other breast causing
her knees to nearly buckle under her and she clutched his arms for
support. Times like this left no doubt
in her mind that her body was made for this man and the pleasure he could bring
her. Just when she thought she could
stand no more, his hand gripped her thigh and wrapped her leg high around his
waist. The hot water cascading over
their bodies along with her back pressed against the cool tile of the shower
stall added a novel facet to the thrillingly primal feel when his body impaled
her. His body drove into her over and
over, the heat and fullness of each thrust sending torrents of intense
sensations flooding through her and further heightening the feeling of the water
flowing over her. Drawing his face down
to hers, she teased his lips with short, biting kisses until he took command
and crushed her lips beneath his. A
swell of desire began blossoming, a crest of pleasure that gradually built,
multiplying into indescribable heights of ecstasy. She surrendered utterly to the strength and sheer virility of his
masculine presence, completely consumed by the burning pleasure that his body
brought to hers. She threw her head
back, crying out his name as a strong orgasm rocked her whole body.
The tight rein Picard held on his own needs was
swiftly unraveling. His hands had a
firm grip on her hips, pulling them hard against him as he thrust into
her. The slick depths of her body were so
hot and tight, frantically clutching at him in uncontrolled passion. Hearing his name on her lips in a sweet cry
of ecstasy shatter his control. With
one last thrust, he held himself deep inside her as his own powerful release
ripped through him. "Je t' aime,
Vash."
"That's sweet, Johnny," she caressed his
face lovingly. "But just once I'd
like to hear you say 'vous aviez correct, Vash. J'aviez tort'."
"Je t' aime, Vash."
............................................
Several days later, Vash was in the archaeology lab
painstakingly removing a millenium of accumulated dirt and debris from around a
vessel unearthed at the excavation site.
They were making progress, finding things that were priceless in their
understanding of ancient Vulcan/Romulan culture. Scans of this particular vessel when they found it had indicated
that it was intact and keeping it that way meant going very slowly and
methodically, practically a granule of dirt at a time. She looked up when the computer indicated
someone requesting admission to the lab.
She waved one of her assistants over to continue working on the vessel,
wiping her hands on a rag sitting on the workstation. "Computer, who's at the door?"
'Captain Beverly Crusher,' the computer informed her.
"Admit," she instructed.
Beverly entered the lab, looking around the large
open bay. She had been in here once
before when Chakotay had taken her on a tour of his wing of the ship. More than half of this deck was occupied by
the Department of Anthropological Sciences.
With people milling around and artifacts of various sizes from small
fragments to large statues, column remnants and even what looked like ship
debris scattered throughout the area, it seemed smaller than she remembered
it. Spotting Vash near the center of
the room, she headed in that direction.
"Hey, stranger."
"Long time, no chocolate," Vash replied.
"I know.
Who would have guessed that starship captains actually work for a
living," Beverly sighed. "I
do appreciate you doing this."
Vash looked around the room, leading Beverly toward a
workstation in the back corner.
"As I told Chakotay, I'm not promising anything. What we're finding down there is really
testing their world view; they're a little shaken by all of this. I actually feel a little sorry for
them. Anyway, I'm willing to make the
introductions and give you a glowing character reference if it'll help, but the
final decision is theirs. No pressure."
"No pressure," Beverly echoed. "I promise."
The two Romulans were completely absorbed in the
analysis that they were running, so Vash waited until they reached a convenient
place to pause in their work. "If
I could interrupt for a moment, I have someone I'd like to introduce you
to."
"Of course, Professor," Latona said. "Would you like to review what we've
done so far?"
"Later," Vash waved off the PADD that the
Romulan offered. "Parcae Latona
and Parcae Somnus of the Romulan Antiquities Office, I'd like to introduce Captain
Beverly Crusher of the Federation starship the USS Pasteur."
Both Romulans inclined their heads in polite
greeting. "Our colleagues onboard
your vessel speak highly of you," Latona said.
"I'm glad," Beverly replied. "My husband, Commander Chakotay, speaks
highly of your work as well. I asked
Vash to make this introduction because I have a favor that I would like to
ask."
"A personal favor," Vash clarified. "It has nothing to do with your work or
this department."
Somnus stepped forward to stand beside his wife. "What is this favor, Captain?"
Beverly tried to decide how best to begin. "There is an illness among Vulcans
called Bendii syndrome. It's an
incurable, rare, degenerative illness that usually strikes aged Vulcans. I've been researching it since I encountered
a case of it a number of years ago.
According to the Romulan medical database, Ragnok fever affects the same
region of the brain except that, unlike Bendii syndrome, Ragnok fever is a
relatively mild ailment with few fatalities.
I haven't found anything in the Romulan medical database like Bendii
syndrome and there's nothing even vaguely like Ragnok fever in the Vulcan
medical database aside from the similarity to Bendii."
"Pardon," Latona broke in. "This seems to be more of an issue for
our colleagues aboard your ship, Captain."
Nodding, Beverly sighed. "Unfortunately, under the circumstances I can't even discuss
the similarity between Ragnok fever and Bendii syndrome with Vulcan
healers. I have medical records and
detailed brain scans of Vulcans who have suffered from Bendii syndrome. Since you are already involved in this
excavation and are aware of the findings, I was hoping that you would allow me
to use your medical records and brain scans to compare the effects of the two
diseases. I think there may be
something about Ragnok fever that can lead to a cure for Bendii."
Somnus exchanged glances with his wife. "Do you wish to subject us to
tests?"
"No," Beverly assured them. "I would like to access the medical
records from the physicals you both completed when you joined the
expedition. That information will give
me a basis for comparison in my research."
"The information is already in your
computer," Latona pointed out.
"Can you not just ask the computer to display it?"
What struck her the most was how truly confused they
were by her request. They had no
understanding or expectation of personal rights. "Not without your permission," Beverly explained. "Your medical information is a private
record that is only authorized to be used in providing medical treatment to
you. I am not allowed to use that
information in medical research unless you give me consent. To just access your medical information for
my own research purposes would violate Federation law, Starfleet regulations
and medical ethics. I can't even ask
your colleagues on my ship for their consent to access their medical records
because I can't explain to them why I want to use that information--the nature
of the research in question. That is
the favor I'm asking of you since the two of you are already involved. I would like for you to allow me to use your
medical record for my research into a possible connection between Ragnok fever
and Bendii syndrome."
"If you want to think about it," Vash
suggested. "I can relay your
answer to her later."
"Of course," Beverly assured them.
The
Romulans half-turned to one another, their faces conveying the
universally-recognized, silent conversations that married people had. It was Somnus who answered first. "There are those among my people who
would refuse this request only because the information has the potential to
benefit Vulcans with no foreseeable advantage to us, particularly in light of
the information we have uncovered in this excavation. The Romulan Empire has suffered heavy consequences as a result of
the old ways and a new day is upon us.
As I have been reminded lately, I am now part of a Federation expedition
and in the Federation things work differently with regard to knowledge. Withholding consent would be consistent with
the old ways of my people, but it would also be petty and a small victory in
the long term. I give you my permission
to use my medical information in your research on this Bendii syndrome. If there are any other samples, tests or
scans that I can provide which would be of benefit, I will."
"You have my permission and full cooperation as
well, Captain Crusher," Latona echoed her husband's sentiment.
Feeling as though she just barely grasped the
significance of that decision for the two Romulans, Beverly's gratitude was
heartfelt. "Thank you."
............................................
Captain Riker sat in his ready room aboard the
Titan. He glanced over the reports from
the latest security drill and made a note to commend his Chief of Security for
the five-second improvement in Security's response time. Turning his attention to the Astrometrics
report, he carefully scrutinized the flight pattern of their Romulan escorts
for any indication of a change since the discovery of the Surak
proclamation. The Romulan government
had assigned two warbirds to remain in the vicinity of the expedition while
they were in Romulan space, ostensibly to provide protection against attack by
Reman rebels. He'd feel a lot safer
without that protection, but for now everything was quiet. The door chime sounded, so he noted his
place in the report and put it aside.
"Enter."
Doctor Selar, his Chief Medical Officer, walked in
and stopped just inside the door.
"If I may have a moment of your time, Captain?"
"Of course, Doctor," he gestured to a chair
in front of his desk.
She declined his offer with a subtle shake of her
head. "There is a matter I wish to
discuss with regards to the on-going excavation on the planet."
He didn't really need to ask what the matter
was. His security chief had logged some
questions from individual crew members about the communications lock-down. Security logs from both the Pasteur and
Enterprise contained similar notations.
He'd requested a list of individuals with direct or indirect knowledge
of the work going on at the dig site and the only Vulcan on that list was a
Lieutenant Junior Grade in the Anthropology Department with indirect
knowledge. All information about the
dig was being strictly controlled. He
sat back in his chair and waited for Selar to continue.
"There has been some speculation and discussion
concerning the nature of the items being uncovered."
He couldn't read her impassive expression so he
wasn't sure if she had specific knowledge or not. He didn't like keeping his senior staff in the dark, but the list
of individuals who knew directly about the Surak proclamation was already
uncomfortably long. "What are the
rumor mills churning out?"
"Some individuals are of the opinion that it is
a bio-weapons lab that the Romulans abandoned and forgot about," she said.
"Which would explain why the biohazard unit from
the Pasteur was called in," he concluded.
Selar inclined her head in acknowledgment. "Precisely."
Riker sat forward, resting his arms on his desk. "What do you think?"
"If that were, in fact, the situation," she
theorized. "It is unlikely that
the archaeology department would be permitted back on the site. Since they have resumed their work, that
theory is dubious at best."
"Somehow I don't think you came here to tell me
what you don't think is going on down there."
"Preliminary scans run prior to the beginning of
the excavation work dated the ruins to a very early period in Romulan
history. Given that Romulan history
begins when they left Vulcan, the general consensus of opinions among the
Vulcans here is that the information pertains to that era. If that is the case, considering that there
are Romulan representatives actively involved in the excavation, it is
generally felt that a senior representative of Vulcan should be present or at
the very least be able to review the items catalogued."
"I
see," he commented as noncommittally as possible. "Just why are you coming to me with
this instead of Commander Chakotay or Captain Picard?"
Selar shifted her stance slightly. "I am the highest ranking
representative of Vulcan among those on this expedition and it is my
understanding that you receive regular updates from Commander Chakotay on the
progress of his department."
Riker carefully considered his response. How he handled this would establish the tone
for his captaincy. Captain Picard had
influenced his perception of leadership more than any other captain he'd served
under, if only due to the sheer length of time they'd served together. He wasn't Picard and he wanted his
leadership style to reflect his qualities as captain. "Without addressing details of the excavation, I guess I'd
like to know what your specific concerns are."
"I do not have concerns about you," she
assured him. "I requested this
posting because of the respect I developed for you during our years of service
together. Similarly, I know Captain
Picard and Captain Crusher to be of exemplary character. My primary concern is the securing of the
communications system. With the
information on the excavation being restricted, that additional step would seem
to be unnecessary. I would wonder why
such an extreme measure would be indicated."
"Because of my security concerns," he
responded honestly. He stood and walked
around his desk to perch on the front corner.
"We are deep in Romulan territory here. Say the rumors, speculation or half-truths circulating about that
site were to be casually mentioned in a personal communication and that led to
a government--be it the Federation, Klingons, Cardassians or even Vulcan--to
send a ship to look into the matter.
What effect do you think that might have on the fragile relationship we have
with the Romulan government at the moment?"
"There would be potential for conflict,"
she acknowledged.
He waved his arm casually toward her. "We are here with the consent of the
Romulan government. If something goes
wrong with diplomatic relations between the Federation or its Allies and our
hosts, things could get very bad very fast for us. Is ancient history--or curiosity--an acceptable basis for risking
war?"
"No, sir."
The door chime interrupted any further comment from
her. "One moment," Riker
called out. Addressing his CMO, he
continued. "I'm glad you felt you
could come to me. You are a trusted
member of my senior staff and I do realize that it will take some time for
everyone to get comfortable with their roles and responsibilities. This ship and her crew is responsible for
the safety of several thousand lives here."
Selar made a small pointing gesture with her
hand. "Which explains the
incessant drills."
The corners of his mouth twitched, the only outward
reaction to her use of the word 'incessant.'
Maybe he'd run one or two too many drills as of late. "What is necessary on this ship is what
I deem necessary. You can always ask if
you have concerns. That doesn't mean
I'll always be inclined to explain myself, however. Understood?"
"Yes, sir.
Thank you for your time, Captain," she said as she turned to leave.
"Doctor," he called out to stop her. "I can assure you that a final report
documenting everything discovered on the planet surface will be forwarded to Starfleet
once all analyses are complete."
"That will have to suffice." The door opened to allow her exit and
revealed Chakotay waiting to enter.
Chakotay stepped aside to let Doctor Selar pass,
nodding in greeting to her. "I
hope I'm not interrupting."
In his ready room, Riker stood and tugged on the
sleeve of his uniform jacket. "Not
at all, Commander, come in."
Holding out one of the two PADDs in his hands,
Chakotay entered. "If this is a
convenient time for you, I have your update on the progress at the site."
"Perfect timing; have a seat."
............................................
Chakotay entered the captain's quarters on the
Pasteur to find Beverly at her desk juggling several PADDs and comparing them
to information on the computer workstation.
She was so completely engrossed in her work that she didn't even look up
at the sound of the door opening. He
could tell from the expression on her face that it was medical research she was
reviewing. She took her duties and
responsibilities as captain very seriously and he thought she would develop
into a very good captain with a bit of experience. It was just that being a doctor would always be at the core of
who she was and medical information engaged her mind in a way that duty logs
and ship status reports never would.
"I'd apologize for being late if I thought that you had actually
noticed."
"I'm sorry, honey," she checked the time
and started gathering up the PADDs strewn over the desk. "I'll clear this away if you'll order
up something from the replicator for dinner.
Wait, did we have dinner plans on C-deck--"
Chakotay crossed the room and dropped a perfunctory
kiss on her lips to quiet them.
"You're fine and no, we didn't have any plans. I did suggest to Will that Deanna and him
join us for dinner at the Bistro tomorrow night. I'll check with Vash in the morning to see if Captain Picard and
she want to join us--if that's all right with you."
"That sounds fine," Beverly replied. "I'm glad you and Will are still on
speaking terms after that briefing."
Shrugging off his uniform jacket, he tossed it over a
chair and headed toward the replicator.
"I was on the Titan to give him his update on the site. That's why I'm late, we were talking. I understand that Will was trying to do his
job; I might have had the same reaction if I were in his shoes. I know they're Romulans, but they're all
academics--not exactly a respected career choice in a culture that values
power. Now they're here and I just
can't help but sympathize with the position they're in. I remember those first months on Voyager
trying to merge my people with Kathryn's.
Neither side trusted or even liked the other and there were some pretty
tense moments, most of which I got caught in the middle of just trying to be
fair. Trust and respect need to be
earned, no question; I just feel like I need to look out for them—at least the
two in my department. Will's reaction
at the briefing was the same kind of reaction my old crew got from the
Starfleet people early on."
"Your reaction at the briefing actually made me
stop and consider the situation from a fresh perspective," she
remarked. She finished putting her work
away and retrieved the table service from the cabinet. "I hadn't really thought about this
expedition from their point of view; several thousand Federation citizens and
less than a handful Romulans. They must
feel very isolated, especially Latona and Somnus right now since they can't
even discuss this with the other Romulans here. I know that we're still in their home territory for now, but once
the expedition moves beyond charted space, they'll be alone. Things are already so different for them
here, functioning under Federation rules yet coming from a totalitarian
society; even things that we take for granted like personal privacy is
completely foreign to them."
There it was, the ability to see every side of a
situation that he firmly believed was the mark of a good captain. Chakotay set their plates on the table. "Iced tea?"
"Ginger ale with a slice of lemon."
He ordered up their drinks and brought the glasses
over to join her at the table.
"Was their cooperation helpful?"
"Yes, that's what I was working on when you came
in. I'm having lunch with Julian
tomorrow to discuss some of this. I
would love to run my findings past the Healers at the Vulcan Medical Institute
whom I've been collaborating with on research into Bendii syndrome . . . "
"But under the circumstances," he nodded in
understanding.
"I can't even discuss this with Selar because
it's been classified as 'need to know' at this point. Dr. Bashir doesn't have the specific knowledge of Vulcan
physiology that Dr. Selar does, but since he's already in the loop on this, he's
the only person I can discuss the medical ramifications with."
Chakotay gestured toward her desk with his fork. "I'd be interested in knowing what
you've found, if you don't mind."
Beverly just smiled.
She had been a little concerned that things would change between them
when the reality of her being a captain set in. This quiet dinner just casually discussing their respective work
felt so normal and indescribably perfect.
"Brain scans of Vulcans with end-stage Bendii show the same type of
synaptic changes in the metathalamus as the brain scans of Latona and
Somnus. The changes were obviously much
more extreme in the Vulcan scans, the similarity is in the pattern of
structural alteration. Initially I
thought maybe it was the same disease, just different names."
"Would make sense."
She shook her head, dabbing at her mouth with her
napkin. "Bendii syndrome only
occurs in old age among Vulcans; it's degenerative and incurable yet not
contagious. Ragnok fever is highly
contagious, usually occurs in childhood and, aside from the altered synapse,
the ailment resolves itself completely within a week. It can be fatal but fatalities have only been documented among a
small percentage of adult-onset cases.
Nothing even remotely similar to Ragnok fever occurs in Vulcan children
and Bendii syndrome is unknown among even the oldest Romulans. There are similarities with Zanthi fever,
which Deanna pointed out at the briefing.
That is treated with broad spectrum antivirals, but that treatment has
been ineffective in Bendii syndrome.
Romulans don't even bother medicating for Ragnok fever, they just wait
for it to run its course. Medically
speaking, these three conditions are completely separate afflictions."
"Are you thinking differences in brain
structure?"
"There are genetic differences between Vulcans
and Romulans, enough so that some medical treatments effective for Vulcans are
sometimes ineffectual in Romulans. I'm
hoping that Julian might have some thoughts on that. I'm also looking at immune response--"
Chakotay interrupted her train of thought. "You might get more information on the
genetic aspect with today's development.
It's in your report on our progress; Vash discovered a skeleton. Dr. Bashir is running a complete analysis,
he wasn't sure if he'd be able to get a good genetic work-up from bones that
old, but his preliminary analysis was that it was the skeleton of an adult
male. There were no apparent injuries
as far as determining a cause of death so that may remain a mystery. The writings and artifacts that we're finding
down there hold so much significance in our understanding of such a critical
point in the history of Vulcans and Romulans apart from the proclamation from
Surak. We're really starting to develop
a clear picture of this group's lives and experiences in the first days after
their exodus from Vulcan. This is
essentially the point of divergence where Romulans became Romulans and
everything about them as a people began to develop."
Beverly was already thinking of how a genetic profile
from that skeleton would help her analysis.
"It would be fascinating to be able to run a comparative analysis
of modern Vulcan and Romulan genetics against the genetic profile of their
common ancestor."
"You know," he pointed out. "There are plenty of examples
throughout the history of various races where infection with one disease
provides resistance or even immunity against another disease."
"It would be ironic if Surak was too successful
in eliminating Ragnok fever from the Vulcan population and that was what led to
the development of Bendii syndrome," she remarked. She finished her meal and started to clear
the table. "There would be some
universal karma if the very disease that prompted the Vulcans to exile the
first Romulans holds the key to preventing or even curing Bendii syndrome. Unless it has something to do with genetic
material that was removed from both populations with the divergence. A missing enzyme in Vulcans might account
for their susceptibility to Bendii syndrome in advanced age and a similar enzymatic
or chromosomal deficiency would explain the Romulans loss of telepathic ability
over time."
Standing up, Chakotay caught her and pulled her to
him, spinning to trap her between his body and the table. As he spoke, he opened her uniform jacket
and began to draw it down her arms.
"Actually, I think that was an internal decision made by the
Romulans at some point in their development.
After Dr. Pulaski suggested that Romulans retain a latent predisposition
toward telepathy, I asked Somnus about it.
His response was that telepathic ability in any form was an undesirable
trait in their society. I can certainly
see where a totalitarian, militaristic society would be opposed to an ability
to read thoughts so those individuals probably didn't get much of a chance to
procreate."
"What are you doing?" Pressed against the broad, muscled wall of
his chest and feeling his strong hands stroke down her back in a clearly
seductive gesture, left no doubt about the direction their evening had suddenly
taken.
"A big favor for Julian," he informed her
as he rocked their hips together.
"The last thing he wants or needs right now is his captain standing
over him while he does his analysis of that skeleton, even if his captain is an
accomplished doctor in her own right."
The fact that he knew her well enough to know what
she had indeed been planning on doing the minute he'd mentioned the skeletal
remains was touching. The fact that he
was not planning to let her was annoying.
The fact that he was right was irrelevant. "I've performed thousands of those analyses."
Capturing her lips with his, he quickly deepened the
kiss. The powerful chemistry that
they'd always had quickly took over, a spark became a burning fire deep in his
hips and her answering moan told him of her response. His tongue delved deep in her mouth, kissing her into
submission. His hands pulled her shirt
free of her trousers and slid underneath to find and massage her breasts. The tips were already stiff with need. Breaking the kiss to strip her shirt off,
his retort was a bit breathless, although he carefully kept his tone low and
gentle. "As Chief Medical Officer
that was your job. Dr. Bashir is the Chief
Medical Officer of the Pasteur and the Chief of Medical Operations for the expedition. You are the Captain of the Pasteur, you
belong on the bridge, in your ready room or preferably right here in my
arms. You will undoubtedly get his
report before I do, but doing that analysis yourself is not your job
anymore."
For the first time since accepting this captaincy,
she almost regretted it. She was still
a damned good doctor and that would most likely be important at some point in
the years and exploration to come.
Accepting that practicing medicine just wasn't her day-to-day priority
anymore was going to take some time.
"Spoken like a man who doesn't want to sit comfortably for the next
week."
He just chuckled, brushing a kiss across the tip of
her nose. His hands worked to unhook
her bra. "As uncomfortably
skillful as you've become with the assortment of paddles we acquired at The
Club, we both know that you would never be able to hit me in anger."
Knowing him as she did, there was little chance that
she'd get out of these quarters for anything short of a ship emergency tonight
and spending the entire evening fighting with Chakotay would not make her feel
any better. Yielding to the inevitable,
she wriggled out of her bra and arched an eyebrow at him. "You're deliberately engaging in a
diversionary tactic on the captain of this ship. I thought I read in my captain's secret rule book that
insubordination was a flogging offense."
"Since I report to Captain Picard," he
reminded her, "you'll have to take it up with him."
"Damn, and that seemed like such a good,
practical idea at the time."
Beverly gave a melodramatic sigh and promptly stripped his uniform shirt
off to bare his smooth, bronze chest.
"Well, if I'm to be the victim of a diversionary tactic, you should
probably start being distracting."
Chakotay nuzzled the long, graceful line of her
throat. "Your wish is my command,
Captain Fireball."
His words murmured against her skin created an erotic
vibration that reverberated through her entire body. She arched into the pressure of his mouth as her hands began a slow,
sensuous exploration of his broad, powerful chest. She knew every millimeter of his body intimately, yet the feel of
his skin beneath her palms never failed to invoke a rush of warmth. When she slid her hands down his torso
toward the waistband of his trousers, the muscles tightened beneath her
fingertips. Caressing the impressive
bulge straining against the fabric, she could hear him groan softly. In that moment, she wasn't a doctor or a
captain; right here, right now, she was a woman in the arms of a man who loved
her deeply and passionately.
"Bed," she whispered.
Ignoring her suggestion, he licked and nuzzled his
way down the creamy skin toward her firm, taut breasts. He'd never imagined that a ship could feel
like a home, but with Beverly his life felt perfect. There was no place else he'd rather be and nothing else in the
universe he'd rather be doing. With one
arm supporting her, he bent her back to thrust her breasts up for his
attention. Her hands were resting
lightly on his forearms, completely relaxed and trusting. He flicked on one stiffened nipple with the
tip of his tongue until he heard her gasp and then began suckling
strongly. Now her fingernails were
digging into his arms, her hips jerking, rubbing against him to simultaneously
ease and increase the throbbing in his groin. Eventually the pressure in his hips urged him on so he stood
her back up, but rather than heading for the bedroom, he knelt down in front of
her.
Her breasts were aching, need radiating through her
body with every heartbeat. The fabric
of their uniform pants were frustrating her as their hips rubbed together. When he finally stopped tormenting her
nipple and dropped to his knees, her breath caught in her throat. Chakotay was the very embodiment of the greatest
strength being found in gentleness. He
was a strong, imposing man yet tenderness was such a natural response for
him. He was capable of commanding any
situation yet he didn't need to be in control of every situation--in fact he
found her taking control to be exciting.
The sight of her powerful Indian warrior completely comfortable with
being on his knees in front of her and the pleasure he got from simply making
her happy were the most powerful aphrodisiacs.
She caressed his tattoo, her fingertips tracing the familiar design in a
silent expression of her love and devotion.
When he reached for her feet to remove her boots, she rested her hands
on the broad slope of his shoulders to steady herself.
He slipped her boots off and then let his hands
slowly skim up her long, graceful legs.
Reaching the top of her thighs, he slid his thumbs along the inside part
of her legs until they met at the juncture and rubbed. He looked up at the sound of her breathless
plea, twitching an eyebrow and grinning.
While he unfastened her pants, his tongue began swirling around her
belly button. Her hands moved to
entangle themselves in his hair as he stripped the rest of her clothes off
without taking his mouth away from her body.
He cupped her hips and lifted her to sit on the edge of the table. Licking his way down, he paused at one point
to suck on a patch of skin below her navel to leave his mark. His name echoed sharply around the room, a
reminder of the ingenious step they'd taken of soundproofing all personal
quarters on this expedition. Nudging
her legs further apart, he went straight to the glistening center of her
need. The wonderful thing about having
someone you truly shared your life with was the knowledge you built over time,
like now and knowing exactly what she liked him to do with his tongue and
lips. It didn't take long before her
fingers tightened in his hair and her body spasmed beneath his mouth. It was tempting to stand up and take her
right there on the table, but the idea of stretching out full-length against
the long, lithe lines of her body while he was buried inside her was too
enticing.
Beverly gave a contented sigh, every bit of tension
gone. When he stood up, she reached for
the fastening of his trousers only to be swept up into his arms. Her arms encircled his neck and she nuzzled
his jaw, licking at the skin there and tasting the salty essence of him. On the bed, she watched him strip the rest
of his clothes off, muscles rippling beneath the smooth tanned skin. Her arms reached out to welcome him onto the
bed, her lips seeking his as her legs encircled his waist. She relaxed into the kiss, letting him take
control; his tongue delving deep into her mouth to stroke and titillate. Their bodies slid together with practiced
ease and quickly settled into a comfortable rhythm. The pressure of him filling her, pressing her down into the
bedding only to pull back was a sweet dance that made her feel loved and
desired. His face during these times
was so incredible to watch. Controlling
his own desires to ensure that she found her own pleasure drew the muscles
around his eyes and the muscles along his jawline tight giving him almost
chiseled features. Those sensuous, lush
lips were even fuller and redder, swollen from their passionate kisses and just
tempting her to tug at his lower lip with her teeth. His nostrils flared from their erotic exertions and in concert
with the tattoo gave him a wild, untamed look.
His eyes were always her undoing, those soft brown eyes, darkened with
desire, seemed as though they looked right through her to her very soul. She surrendered to the pleasure, a very
satisfying climax rippling through her.
Almost immediately afterward, she felt him thrust deep within her one
last time as he allowed himself his own orgasm and collapsed on top of
her. At this point, his face was soft
and relaxed, almost boyish. She just
held him, savoring the feel of their bodies entwined.
Chakotay laid there for a long time not wanting the
moment to end. Finally, with a grunt he
rolled to the side and tugged on the blankets to settle them both in for the
night. As much as he enjoyed their
occasional forays into BDSM--and his little Fireball was becoming quite the
Dominatrix--he also enjoyed nights like this, the quiet intimacy and leisurely
enjoyment of just being together. When
she got out of bed, he started to swear under his breath. "Where are you going?"
"Bathroom," she assured him. "Don't worry, I am not the least bit
inclined to leave these quarters tonight.
You can consider me well and truly distracted; although I may need to be
distracted again later. I'll let you
know."
He just chuckled and finished arranging the
covers. "You do that."
............................................
Picard handed Beverly a cup of tea before settling
down beside her on the sofa with his own cup.
They were in his ready room where Beverly had just delivered the final
Medical Operations report for him to include in his mission report. They were still in orbit waiting for
Commander Donatra to arrive and take custody of the artifacts that they'd
discovered. He hated to turn the Surak
proclamation over, but legally it was the property of the Romulan
government. He'd contacted Donatra
based on their previous interactions as the best hope they had that the tablet
would be preserved. Much as he would
prefer to send all of the artifacts, especially that tablet, back to the Daystrom
Institute, that simply wasn't an option.
"So, our first official outing is in the books. Your first official outing as captain. How does it feel?"
"Frustrating," she sighed. "How have you spent so many years just
sitting in your ready room waiting for people to bring you reports."
Her answer caught him mid-sip. Swallowing a snort as well as his tea, he
regarded her with bemusement.
"There's a little more to the job description than that."
"You know what I mean, Jean-Luc. I didn't go into this completely unprepared;
I've worked duty shifts on the Bridge and been in temporary command in crisis
situations. I've just always gone back
to my Sickbay, my work, when it was over.
Now it is my job, there's nothing else to go back to and nothing for me
to do while everyone else is in the middle of things except wait for them to do
their jobs."
"Do you miss Sickbay?"
Beverly's answer was part sigh, part confession. "Sometimes. Seriously, how do you do it?
How do you just sit and wait for your people to bring you reports on a
situation?"
"Have a hobby," he suggested. He could sympathize with her sense of
frustration. For every new captain
there was a period of transition from doing to leading. There were still situations where he felt
that frustration even after all his years in the captain's chair.
She shot him a mischievous wink over the rim of her
tea cup. "Like archaeology?"
"I was interested in archaeology long before I
met Vash," he noted, the defensiveness mitigated by the humor in his eyes.
"True."
Picard ignored the tone of her voice. "Have an interest unrelated to command
that engages your mind. Something you
can pull out and spend hours absorbed in but could put away at a moment's
notice. There will be plenty of times
where you're running your own analysis separate from your people or reviewing
regulations or planetary laws to make a decision. There will also be times when things are quiet and you're looking
for something to do. If you have a
hobby, you're less likely to drive your crew insane at those times."
"Important tip," she said. "Since you're dispensing words of
wisdom, tell me why I shouldn't send a copy of my analysis on the link between
Ragnok fever and Bendii syndrome directly to Vulcan healers researching
Bendii. Back when I was your Chief
Medical Officer, that's precisely what I would have . . . been tempted to
do."
He just chuckled.
"And let me deal with the fallout."
"Now that I'm in your shoes, I can see the other
side and wonder how I would handle it if one of my doctors did just that."
"Did you include that information in the Medical
Operations report?"
Beverly arched an eyebrow at him. "Of course. I'm just concerned that the medical significance will be
completely obscured by the political ramifications. It's not like government officials have never buried some
significant piece of information in the name of public welfare."
She was right and it was those times when a captain's
hands were tied that having a headstrong crew member provided plausible
deniability. "A complete report of
the excavation will be submitted to the Romulan government and to
Starfleet. Under the circumstances, it
wouldn't be inappropriate to send a copy of the report to the Vulcan government
as well."
She set her cup on the end table beside her. "How will Starfleet feel about you
forwarding that report to Vulcan before they've even reviewed it?"
"I'm headed to parts unknown," he
commented. "What are they going to
do to me? The important thing in any
decision you make as captain is being able to justify the action. The findings of this excavation have direct
relevance to Vulcan history and Vulcan medicine. The Vulcan High Command has a right to see this information,
especially considering that the Surak proclamation has to be turned over to the
Romulan government."
"But there's no way to guarantee that the Vulcan
V'Shar won't choose to bury it. Bendii
is rare, so they could just decide it's not worth the fuss it'll cause and the
right people--the medical researchers who could do something with the
information--will never see it."
Picard set his own cup down and turned to face
her. "True, but as you've noted,
captains spend a lot of time playing in their ready rooms; there's no reason
that medical research can't be your hobby. Instead of being a doctor playing captain, be a captain playing
doctor."
**FINIS**