Title:
Romulan Roulette
Author: Whoa Nellie
Contact:
[email protected]
Series: TNG
Rating:
NC-17
Codes:
P/V
Summary:
A diplomatic mission takes an unforeseen detour. This story was originally
posted to ASC June 24, 2009.
As
always: Paramount owns all the marbles. We just have a lot more fun playing
with them.
Feedback
is always appreciated, posted or e-mail.
Whoa
Nellie's Romance Star Trek Fan Fiction Stories
http://whoanellie.fortunecity.com
Romulan
Roulette
"Jean-Luc, knock it
off," Vash grumbled, her insides turning upside-down for the third time in
the past five minutes. The Kirk's
inertial dampers struggled to keep up with the acrobatic maneuvers that the
ship was performing.
"Tag-along stowaways don't
usually carp so audaciously about the pilot's expertise," Captain Jean-Luc
Picard admonished good-naturedly. He
relished the chance to fly the Kirk.
When using the impulse drive, the distinctive controls increased the Delta
Flyer-class shuttle's responsiveness, which allowed the pilot much more
control. At the moment, he was enjoying
himself immensely; although, the actual purpose of this trip was for him to
meet with the new Romulan government to discuss the deep space mission to the
Delta quadrant and the possibility of Romulan involvement as well as the
opening of Romulan space to Federation exploration.
"I didn't stowaway well
not exactly. I'm not about to let you
out of my sight after what happened the last time you went without me to meet
with Romulans. Besides, the Romulan
archaeologist charged with taking care of the Praetor's Fasces wanted to meet
with me to discuss the findings of the research I conducted while the artifact
was in my care." She looked over at
her husband sitting at the conn.
"Moreover, I'm well aware of your expertise as a pilot, which makes
this audacious display of male prowess really unnecessary."
A quote by Nietzsche that she
had used to describe him on occasion came to Picard's mind. "There are two things a real man loves
-- danger and play."
"Well then, why don't you
lay in the course, go to warp, come back here and display your male prowess
with the most dangerous of your playthings?" she offered in her finest
sex-kitten voice.
"I have a better idea. Before we go to warp why don't you come up
here for a flying lesson?" he bantered back. As she made her way up to join him he noticed the tan, cable-knit
sweater that hung to her hips and matching leggings she wore. The tan sweater was, in fact, his. There was something utterly adorable in the
way she so nonchalantly appropriated his belongings for her own use. "With all of the new clothes in your
closet, most of which are couture, why are you raiding my closet?"
"It was comfortable and we
have a good fifteen hours before we even reach the Romulan Neutral Zone,"
she started to explain but that last part of the explanation triggered a mental
detour. "Are they still going to
call it that?" She perched on his
lap careful not to bump any of the shuttle's controls. The notion of cavorting in the pilot's chair
had definitely piqued her interest.
He slid out from beneath her and
stood next to her. "As far as I
know there are no plans to change the status of the Neutral Zone. Of course, those are political decisions and
a little above my pay grade."
Finding herself alone in the
pilot's chair, Vash looked up at Jean-Luc through her lashes and gave him her
most sensuous pout. "Damn, I
thought that was an innuendo. You're
actually talking about a flying lesson."
Tenderly running his fingers
through her hair, he brushed the silky brunette locks aside before leaning down
to reach around her and guide her hands on the controls. With his face next to hers, he drank in the
softly-scented combination of roses, violets, and lavender of her favorite
perfume while resisting the urge to place a kiss or two on pulse point below
her ear. "Remember, this controls
the pitch, rotating the shuttle around its lateral axis."
Vash found herself falling under
the soothing spell of Jean-Luc's rich, gentle baritone next to her ear. The warmth of his embrace seeped through the
sweater with his strong arms around her and his larger hands covering hers on
the controls. She forced herself to
focus on the matter at hand. "Up
and down and yes I know there is no up or down in space so we'll just say
toward my head or toward my toes."
"Correct," he chuckled
softly, before sliding one of her hands to another mechanism. "This controls the yaw, rotating the
shuttle around its vertical axis."
With his hand directing hers
over the controls, she observed, "this way and that way."
"Uh-huh," he murmured
approvingly unable to ignore the way the cable-knit of the sweater followed the
feminine curves of her body rising and falling with each breath she took. Again moving their hands, he continued on
with the lesson, "This controls
the roll, rotating the shuttle around its longitudinal axis."
She playfully noted, "those
barrel rolls you so enjoy doing."
"That might not be the best
maneuver to start off with. Instead,
let's try a nice gentle bank to the starboard side." His hands now lightly rested on hers
allowing her to manipulate the controls.
He guided her through some basic maneuvers, each one building on the
next. Blood rushed through Picard
watching her tackle each new obstacle he presented her with. It was her scintillating intellect combined
with her vivacious zeal for life's challenges that excited him beyond measure.
The
shuttle lurched clumsily. Her tongue
darted out of its own volition, to moisten her lips. "Is this how to
compensate for that?"
He
nodded and coached her, "Don't be so tentative. Make sure you keep a firm but relaxed grip, your movements need
to be assured and smooth. That's it,
nice and easy."
Intending to tease him about the
possible dual nature of his words, she turned her face toward him at the exact
moment he turned to face her. Suddenly,
their mouths and what started out as an accidental meeting instantly became
fiercely impassioned when their always incendiary chemistry took over. His hands tightened over hers, holding the
ship steady while their tongues danced, swirling and stroking each other in a
sensual tango.
Breaking off the kiss, he
rasped, "I take it we're finished here."
She brushed feathery kisses
along his strong jawline and purred, "oh no, baby, we're just getting
started."
"Then I need in the
chair," he prompted, the warmth of her lush lips along his jaw beginning
to wreak havoc on his senses. All he
had to do was lay in the course, go to warp and they could go make themselves
comfortable in the sleeping compartment of the shuttle. She gracefully slid out of the chair
allowing him to retake the conn. Once
he had settled himself back into the pilot's chair, he realized she had taken
the opportunity to swiftly and surreptitiously remove her boots and leggings,
leaving her clothed only in his sweater and whatever sweet nothings she had on
under it. 'Don't go there, Johnny,' he
admonished himself, 'at least not yet.'
She threw one of her long legs over his and straddled his lap forcing
him to reach around her to take the controls.
"So, are you in the mood to
handle trouble?" With her gaze
focusing on the firm set of his mouth, she sensuously ran her index finger over
his bottom lip.
Kissing her finger, he
entreated, "Behave yourself long enough for me to get us into warp."
"I promise to behave myself
-- once we reach Romulus," she offered breathlessly. Leaning in, she closed her eyes and nibbled
on his neck just above his uniform tunic.
The clean, masculine scent of his aftershave was as strong of an
aphrodisiac as the most erotic Risan delicacy.
"So, that's how you want to
play this. All right, let the games
begin, ma petite." A hint of
amusement tinged his bedroom baritone.
His mouth found and seized hers in another deep kiss, swallowing her
squeal of surprise when he threw the shuttle into three successive barrel
rolls. He took great satisfaction in
feeling her small hands tightly clutch the fabric of his uniform jacket in
response to the slight but perceptual lag in the ship's inertial dampers. He pulled out of the final roll and broke
off the kiss.
"There's
nothing like pushing the envelope," she cooed, rubbing her breasts against
the hard wall of his chest. Her nipples
hardened sending streaks of desire through her. It wasn't enough and she quickly set about undoing his uniform
jacket and tunic.
With his lovely imp of a wife
sinuously writhing against him on his lap, it was taking increasingly more
effort for Picard to concentrate on keeping the shuttle steady. Her small hands quickly snaked beneath his
clothing. Muscles tightened and his hardness
grew in response to her ardently exploring the muscles of his chest. Her hands journeyed further down, the taut
muscles of his stomach contracting beneath her touch. When she reached his waistband expertly opening his trousers, he
hissed, "Mon Dieu, Vash."
She wrapped her hand around the
firm length taking up a familiar rhythm, savoring the contrast in textures of
rock-solid hardness covered by soft, velvety skin. God, he was so hot and hard, pulsating in her hands. A heated rush of arousal surged through her
entire body. Her voice came out husky
and passion-laced, "I believe you said something about not being
tentative, about making sure to keep a firm but relaxed grip, my movements
assured and smooth. Nice and
easy."
Picard's body throbbed in
response to the tantalizing ministrations of her expert hands. He was immensely grateful for all of his
years of piloting experience and that he had had the foresight to plot their
course ahead of time because at the moment he was flying by rote. His hands drifted over the control laying in
the plotted course strictly by feel and engaged the warp engines. With Vash straddling his lap, the bottom of
the sweater had risen to a very precarious level to say the least and he was
hit by a sudden realization.
"You're not wearing anything under that, are you?"
"With over fifteen hours to
spend together alone in a shuttle, what do you think," she purred
lasciviously, reveling in his sharp gasp when her thumb slowly circled the very
tip of his hard arousal.
"I think we should head to
the sleeping compartment in back of the shuttle," he rasped hoarsely.
"No." She had every intention of enjoying 'captain
heroic' right there in the pilot's chair.
The hand stroking him with a teasing tempo never missed a beat as her other
hand came up to grip the back of the chair and pin him in place. Gently pulling his lower lip between her
teeth, she demanded in a heated whisper, "here."
His mouth was captured by hers
in a ravenous kiss, her tongue forcing its way past his lips to delve into the
dark, damp recesses of his mouth. Not
quite willing to break the kiss, he groaned into her mouth, "the bed . . ."
"Will
still be there for round two," she countered wantonly.
The little minx knew exactly
what she was doing and her consummate skill had left him with an urgency that
was agonizing in its intensity. He
tried again, "I think we'd be more comfortable . . ."
"Too late for that,"
she announced with an almost feral purr while lifting her hips slightly. Lowering herself slowly until her hips
settled against his, she completely sheathed his hard length inside her
body. "Oh God, Jean-Luc . . . you
feel so good," she moaned closing her eyes while savoring the heat and
fullness of his body buried deep inside hers.
She slowly raised herself up almost pulling completely away from him,
pausing a moment before slowly lowering herself back down. As she repeated the long, deliberate stroke,
she could feel his body straining to bury itself deep inside hers. Her knees dug into the side of his thighs as
she came down on him over and over. She
could feel an overwhelming pressure building inside her and she pushed them
both harder, wanting more.
Picard's hands slipped beneath
the sweater to slide up the smooth, bare skin of her stomach to possessively
cup the full curves of her breasts. He
began kneading the firm mounds, occasionally flicking his thumbs across the
hard nipples. He could feel his body
bury itself deep inside hers with every descent. The slick depths of her body were so hot and tight, gripping him
with each long stroke. Her hands
clutched his shoulders, her body tightening against him and drawing him in
deeper and deeper. She was riding him
hard and fast, slamming herself down against him. Suddenly she stiffened and cried out his name, her body spasming
uncontrollably around him. Hearing his
name on her lips in a sweet cry of ecstasy shattered his control. With one last thrust, his entire body arched
up into hers and he held himself deep inside her as his own powerful release
ripped through him.
Vash collapsed against Jean-Luc
while tremors of pleasure continued to course through her quivering body. Unable to help herself, she giggled into the
crook of his neck, "now that's what I call a flying lesson."
"You're incorrigible,"
he chuckled softly.
"What? It's not like we broke the chair . . . this
time."
"We've just entered Romulan
space," Picard announced from his position at the conn. He heard
Vash enter the forward compartment.
"Did you sleep well, chere?"
"Yes; so well, in fact,
that I wasn't even aware that you had gotten up," she replied.
"I
made sure not to disturb you. I wanted
to be at the conn when we reached the neutral zone." He glanced over his shoulder at her
expecting to find her dressed for a diplomatic reception and instead finding
her clothed in her field gear. Even
dressed in a khaki work shirt and pants, she managed to appear enchanting. "My, don't you look
archaeological."
Vash couldn't keep the
excitement from her voice. "The
head of the Romulan Ministry of Antiquity offered me a tour of their most
important archaeological sites when we arrive which will make me the first
Federation scientist to actually visit some of those sites."
He playfully baited her. "More importantly--while on an official
visit by invitation."
"Jean-Luc,
even I'm not outrageous enough to attempt to sneak onto Romulus uninvited. Someone would have to be out of their mind
to try that," she countered impishly.
Suddenly, she was almost knocked off her feet from the impact of an
explosion against the shields rocking the ship violently. Struggling to her seat and strapping herself
in, she yelled over the now-blaring red alert claxon, "What the hell was
that?"
"Disrupter blast," he
shouted back while simultaneously checking readouts and effecting evasive
maneuvers. "The first shot took
out our warp drive and we have a warbird decloaked off the starboard bow with
all of her weapons fully armed."
"I thought we were all
supposed to be pals now," she hollered.
"Obviously someone didn't
get the memo. Can you reach over and
shut that damn thing off for me?" he asked at the top of his voice
narrowly avoiding two more blasts. Once
the claxon fell silent, his voice returned to a normal volume, "thank
you."
"You're welcome," she
replied. Another explosion shook the
small ship and Vash dug her fingers into the arms of her chair. "Remans?"
"Most likely; however, with
you in tow, I'm not inclined to stick around and find out," he remarked off
handedly.
"Which would lead one to
believe that if I wasn't 'in tow,' you'd actually stick around to try to find
out. I'll make a mental note that your
sense of self-preservation seems to be directly linked to my proximity,"
she chastised sharply.
"Since I'm a little busy at
the moment, chere, that particular topic of conversation will have to
wait." He guided the flyer on a
wild zig-zag course to avoid being hit while returning fire. "The fourth planet in this next system
is an uninhabited M class planet. The
atmosphere of the planet creates severe electromagnetic storms which will
interfere with the warbird's sensors and transporters."
"Making it a perfect hiding
place and you knew it was there."
He winced as another disrupter
blast hit too close to the ship for comfort.
The planet was now in visual range.
They were almost there. "I
made sure to be aware of potential 'safe harbors,' so to speak, along our
course from the neutral zone to Romulus.
Any port in a storm."
"By 'safe harbor' you mean
hiding spot," she surmised.
"Johnny, I'm impressed. You
would have made one hell of a pirate."
Several more blasts buffeted the
Kirk. The last hit was followed by
several secondary explosions along with a multitude of panels flashing red in
an attempt to attract Picard's attention.
"Merde."
"That can't be good,"
she muttered.
"We've lost aft shields and
the starboard impulse engine along with the long range communications array and
the forward landing gear. The
atmospheric speedbrakes are questionable." Preparing to enter the planet's stormy atmosphere with the
warbird in close pursuit, Picard advised his wife grimly. "We're going in hot. Hang on.
What is it you like to say -- this is where the fun begins."
"Dear God . . ." Vash
knew it would be nearly impossible for even the most skilled pilot to
successfully land the shuttle under these conditions. Their only hope of survival lay in the fact that her husband was
the best of the best. Clutching her
chair arm until her knuckles turned white, she gazed up at the ceiling taking
several deep breaths to try and calm her racing pulse. The resistance from the atmosphere became
more intense, creating a bright heat outside the windows. At the mercy of the planet's gravitational
forces, the small ship pitched and spun wildly plummeting toward the
surface. Unwilling to watch Jean-Luc
struggle with the controls, she closed her eyes tightly softly murmuring to
herself, "Draylan, Masaka, Korgano, Blessed Exchequer, Kosst Amojan, Four
Deities, Kahless . . ." The
shattering thud of the Kirk hitting the ground interrupted her desperate
petitioning. As the Kirk careened in an
interminable, jarring skid along the bumpy terrain, she desperately searched
her memory, "damn it, what was the name of that Hur'q deity again?"
Once the Kirk came to a stop,
Picard left the pilot's chair to check on Vash. He was relieved to find his wife seemingly uninjured, tightly
clutching the arms of her chair, her eyes closed, quietly muttering to herself. He knelt down in front of her chair. "If you'd like pause briefly in your
litany of deities to open your eyes, you'll find I've managed to land us
safely."
"A little help never hurts
and with all I've seen in my many travels through the universe, I firmly believe
in a divine power. I'm only unsure of
the correct name." She opened her
eyes and released her death grip on the arms of her chair. Flexing the soreness out of her fingers, she
observed, "You've spent too much time with Chakotay because that was a
controlled crash -- not a landing."
Smiling at her characteristic
style of covering all her bases, he gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "If you're all right, I really need to
ascertain the damage to the ship."
"Go ahead, I'm fine,"
she assured him. "I'll head to the
aft compartments and begin working back there."
Helping her from her chair, he
placed a kiss on her cheek before watching her head off to the rear of the
ship. He turned his attention to what
was left of the conn. Lying on his back
in the cockpit, Picard wedged himself beneath the consoles making up the conn
station to begin determining the damage and affect repairs to the conn
itself. It was not a pretty situation. In fact, the longer he was down there the
more damage he found. The situation
just became uglier and uglier. Just as
he reached up to wearily rub the bridge of his nose a loud blast reverberated
through the ship. He knew the dorsal
escape hatch had been blown and they were being boarded. Sliding out from beneath the conn, he
swiftly stood only to be stopped in his tracks by the three-pronged muzzle of a
Reman disrupter rifle pointed at his chest.
The captain found himself cornered in the small ship's cockpit facing
three Reman soldiers. With the habitual
tug on the hem of his jacket, he squared his shoulders. His powerful voice resonated with authority,
"Who are you and what do you want?"
The foremost Reman spoke,
"After all those hours together, Captain Picard, I thought you'd recognize
me."
Picard's attention now focused
on the individual Reman. "Your
were one of the Reman Praetor's guards who held me captive."
"Yes,
the Romulan warbird in orbit is one of several commandeered by Remans who had
escaped from Romulus when the Reman rιgime fell. It was considerate of you to return to Romulan space so we could
carry out your prearranged, if somewhat delayed, execution." He shifted his disrupter rifle slightly
preparing to fire.
At the sound of an energy weapon
being fired, Picard flinched instinctively in expectation of the intense pain
from a point blank disrupter blast only to realize that the Reman in front of
him had been vaporized from behind. It
was only after the remaining two Remans had swiftly met the same fate, did it
dawn on him that the weapons fire had been a phaser and not a disrupter. The smoke cleared to reveal Vash kneeling in
the doorway leading to the aft of the flyer with a Type-III phaser rifle.
"I hate uninvited
guests," she groused, struggling to hold her composure. Getting upset after it was all over seemed
silly but it was definitely preferable to getting hysterical during the
situation.
Picard
watched the internal struggle play across her countenance. He made his way over to her gently taking
the large weapon from her grasp. He
kept his tone light and calm, following the tenor set by her blithe
comment. "You've spent too much
time with Kathryn."
"I
got this bad boy out for you." Vash replied, relinquishing the rifle to
him. "I know Kathryn prefers it
but I find it unwieldy."
"You
obviously made quick work of the security protocols on the weapons
locker," he observed dryly.
"True,
the security protocols weren't as much of a challenge as I had
anticipated. But to be completely honest,
I had already taken the rifle out of the locker when the Remans boarded,"
she admitted with a slight shrug of her shoulders. At his questioning look, she added, "I wasn't sure how bad the damage was and thought we might
have to abandon the Kirk. In
interstellar field archaeology you never assume you're at the top of the food
chain on any given planet."
Her
line of reasoning impressed him.
"An important safety tip.
You're right about having to abandon the Kirk. She's going nowhere for the moment. She's salvageable, but needs extensive repairs to make her flight
ready."
"Do
you have a plan for how we're getting off this rock and past the warbird in
orbit?" she prompted.
"Due
to the atmosphere's interference with long range sensors and transporters, our
late Reman friends would have had to down in some sort of small craft. I'm betting it was several of the newer,
two-seater Scorpion fighters. We'll
need to appropriate one "
"You
mean hotwire and steal one," she corrected him, amused. "Captain, it sounds like this plan of
yours hinges greatly on your wife displaying some of her more nefarious
talents."
"Can
you do it?" he asked.
"If
you can fly it, I can hotwire it," she boasted brazenly and then realized
something. "Unfortunately, I doubt those three Remans were alone."
He
checked the power supply on the rifle.
"I'm assuming they weren't.
If they came down in three fighters that leaves three Reman
solidiers."
"Or
they could have sent down two fighters and a troop transport and we walk into a
trap facing a whole platoon plus one," she pointed out, apprehension
replacing her usual bravado.
"That
would be overdoing it a bit, like using an elephant gun on a canary," he
quipped in an attempt to soothe her.
Her
words came faster and faster, almost tumbling over each other, "I know
what the Remans are, Jean-Luc, the Romulan Empire's shock troops, viciously
aggressive and tenacious "
"You
let me worry about the tactical aspects of the situation and you just focus on
being the accomplished cat burglar we both know you're capable of." Wanting to further distract her from
thoughts of the Remans, he continued, "we'll need provisions "
Vash
walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a backpack already prepared. "You never know when the opportunity to
explore a really interesting site will present itself and the best sites are
never within easy reach of civilization, so it's best to always be
prepared."
"That's
my girl."
..
Picard squinted his eyes slightly
while walking down the ramp of the aft hatch. "Bright."
Vash walked down the ramp behind
him. "According to the shuttle's
sensors, the landscape is a light-colored sedimentary rock similar to Earth's
sandstone. As long as we travel during
the heat and light of day, this system's sunlight reflecting so brightly off of
the surface should put our Reman friends at a distinct disadvantage. The pallor of the Remans's skin is most
likely an indication of regressive evolution from a life spent in darkness."
"Thank you, Professor, for
that tactical assessment," he replied dryly.
Catching up to him just as he
stepped off of the ramp, she slapped a khaki-colored boonie hat on his head
with only slightly more force than necessary.
"I would also tactically advise that you keep a protective covering
on that legendary dome of yours. It
will help with the glare."
She was right of course. Protective covering was advisable under
these conditions; however his eyebrow shot up at her choice of words. "The glare?"
"You're squinting your
eyes. What did you think I
meant?" It suddenly dawned on Vash
how her words could have been misconstrued and she chuckled, "ohh . . . oops.
. . sorry."
"Indeed. I don't want to even imagine the reaction if
I were to mention a less than perfect physical attribute of yours," he
groused playfully.
"Are you implying I have
physical attributes that you find less than perfect?" she retorted with
feigned indignation. The impromptu
verbal sparring match was a welcome diversion from the very real jeopardy that
they were facing.
"I consider every inch of
you to be absolute perfection." He
took a second boonie hat from a hook on her pack and placed it on her
head. He gave her behind a teasing swat
and added, "and you damn well know it."
"Well played, Mon
Capitaine."
"Do you have with you one
of the tricorders Data specifically adapted for your archaeology
fieldwork?" he asked.
"Uh-huh." She reached in her pack and pulled out a
tricorder, handing it to him.
Working the control panel of the
tricorder, he muttered, "I'm hoping the tighter bandwidth on this can cut
through some of this atmospheric interference."
When she peered over his
shoulder to see the tricorder readings, her eyebrows furrowed in
confusion. "What the hell is
that?"
"A substance which, due to
its use by the Romulan Empire, may help us find transportation; however,
knowledge of this substance's existence is highly classified." He moved the tricorder out of her line of
sight and continued to scan.
"Just like those nine years
of your life between commanding the Stargazer and the Enterprise D," she
ventured, still trying to sneak a peak at the tricorder. Catching the look he threw her, she added, "And
don't bother with the party line.
Someone scrubbed your official background for those nine years so well
it sparkles."
"If that were indeed the
case I would think it would give you cause to wonder about the man you
married?"
"I've known from the very
beginning the type of man you are -- a hero and a patriot." She placed a peck on his cheek relishing the
plasma leak sigh that escaped him at her description. "Your possible participation in double-secret, black ops
notwithstanding."
Sometimes this woman was far too
astute for her own good. Steering the
conversation toward some sort of plausible deniability, he inquired, "And
what makes you think my life was anything more exciting than the official
records indicate."
"Look around,
Jean-Luc," she rolled her eyes.
"After being shot down and boarded by enemy forces very intent on
killing us, we are attempting to find and then steal a ship belonging to those
very same enemy forces. The sad part of
all of this is that it's not that far out of the ordinary for a day at the
office for either of us."
She had a valid point, but he
couldn't very well acknowledge it.
Instead, he pointed off into the distance. "The scorpion fighters are located eleven kilometers
straight line that direction."
She found herself staring off at
a mountain-like rock formation that was a about a kilometer from the Kirk "On the other side of that?"
"It's never easy, is
it?" He locked in the location of
the scorpion fighters and erased all classified data before handing her the
tricorder.
"Of course, you hand this
to me after you erased the interesting stuff," she huffed in
not-quite-feigned disappointment.
"According to these readings, we -- I mean you, Captain, have a
decision to make. It will be about a 50
kilometer walk to go around the rock formation. Assuming we keep a good steady pace of about four kilometers an
hour, we could make that in 12 ½ hours.
Unfortunately, I estimate that we will lose our light in roughly eight
hours, which will leave us in the dark and at a disadvantage to the Remans for
over four hours. Our second choice is a
natural crevice that, with the exception of some curves, leads straight through
the mountain. The downside to Plan B is
that in places it is barely a meter wide and it will most likely be quite dark,
again sacrificing our one advantage over the Remans."
"But
for only the two and a half hours or so that it would take to traverse the
distance. We'll head through the
crevice. It will leave us time to
acquire our transportation under the cover of light," he determined,
gesturing toward the pack that she was carrying. "If that's getting heavy
I can"
Vash snorted at him. "Believe it or not there was a time
when I carried my own pack while in the field.
You just focus on handling that rifle."
Making
it to the crevice in the side of the rock face without incident, Picard stopped
and reached out for the tricorder that Vash was already handing to him. He scowled slightly at the readings.
"Remans?" Vash
whispered, peering into the dark.
"Not sure. The tricorder briefly picked up a lifeform
signal but it was too fleeting to pinpoint a location."
"It could be from the other
side of the crevice. Remans left to
guard the scorpion fighters," she offered.
Picard shrugged. "Possibly. Of course it's just as possible that enemy forces are waiting in
ambush inside the crevice and are shielding themselves from our scans
somehow." He removed his hat and
handed it to Vash along with the tricorder.
"Take these, the hat will just be a nuisance inside the
crevice."
After placing everything back
into her pack, she watched him ready his phaser rifle. He paused for a moment, dark emotions
flickering across his usually impassive visage. After all their years of marriage, Vash knew exactly what he was
thinking. It was one thing for Jean-Luc
to lead officers under his command into a potential combat situation, but it
was another thing entirely to take his wife into such a situation. Abhorring the idea, he was searching one
final time for a different solution; there wasn't one. She made sure her voice carried the brazen
tone befitting her well-earned reputation.
"I can take care of myself, Jean-Luc."
"A Starfleet officer should
never knowingly place a civilian in a situation where there is a clear and
present danger," he groused.
She
wanted to avoid the whole civilian versus officer matter and tried a different
angle. "Why don't you look at the
bright side of this?"
"I fail to see any bright
side to this," he replied a little more curtly than he intended.
"Once we extricate
ourselves from these types of situations--and we always do--the sex is
mind-blowing," she pointed out conspiratorially.
Deciding
it would behoove him to ignore the comment, he asked, "Are you
armed?"
"Like
a Klingon bride on her wedding day."
She couldn't help making the rather pithy response.
"A simple yes would have
sufficed. Let's go." He led the way into the crevice.
Vash followed her husband's lead
closely; after all, this sort of exercise was Jean-Luc's bailiwick. Her eyes slowly acclimated to the darkness
the deeper they went into the fissure.
Knowing that it was far too risky to take time to scan with the
tricorder, she made mental notes about the details of their surroundings as
they traveled. She had to continually
resist the temptation to stop and examine things more closely, promising
herself that she'd talk Jean-Luc into a future expedition to come back and
explore moreassuming that he didn't blow it up in the interim. She kept her voice a whisper just loud
enough for him to hear. "This
crevice is a natural formation, but I'm seeing evidence of artificial
modifications in different spots."
It was the first audible noise
Vash had made in almost three kilometers and Picard had to admit he was impressed
by her stealth. "Any idea by
whom?"
"No, not
" she broke
off holding up a finger. Off in the
distance there was the faintest noise of a pebble falling. The silence was shattered by a disrupter
blast and the rock-face a meter above Vash's head exploded.
"Take
cover," Picard commanded, pushing Vash toward a nearby indentation in the
crevice wall. He used his body to
shield her from the disrupter fire as well as the rock debris falling around
them but still managed to gauge the location of their attacker with that second
shot. A lone Reman perched on a ledge
approximately ninety meters high on the opposite wall far down the fissure from
them. Standing in front of Vash, the
lack of any discernible wind registered in the back of his mind. Mentally blocking out the next several
blasts that exploded around them, Picard took careful aim and fired. As the Reman fell from his perch, Picard
hissed, "damn it!"
"What? You hit him and that
was one hell of a shot." Vash observed with amazement, peeking around his
shoulder.
"I now know there are more
of them and more importantly, they now know you're with me," he
grumbled. Turning to face her, his tone
softened and he reached out to brush the dust and debris from her hair. "Were you hit?"
"No, I'm fine," she
assured him. "And we need to keep
moving."
"Agreed," Picard
replied. He continually scanned the
high walls of the crevice for any signs of other snipers as they got underway
once again.
Vash silently kept pace with her
husband until he suddenly darted a few yards ahead and knelt down. She moved to catch up but stopped short when
she realized that he was kneeling next to the grotesquely-mangled body of the
Reman who had shot at them. "What
are you doing?"
"Making damn sure he's dead
and won't be attacking us from behind."
The captain lifted the body slightly and reached beneath it.
"I can see he's dead from
here. Arms and legs of humanoids don't
usually lay at those particular angles and I'm pretty sure that's his grey
matter on the rock face." She
grimaced at the sickening sight. "What are you looking for?"
"This," he answered
holding up what was left of the Reman's disrupter rifle. The weapon was as mangled as its late owner
and he tossed it back down before walking over to her. "He only had the rifle; no other
sidearm. If the rifle had been
operational at all I would have taken it with us."
"To prevent another Reman
from using it against us," she surmised.
"Exactly. Let's keep moving." Two kilometers further down, they came to
the crevice's first curve. Signaling
for Vash to stay directly behind him, Picard made his way around the bend and
growled under his breath, "Merde!"
"What's wrong?" Vash
whispered, moving up to peek over his shoulder. Her eyes went wide at the magnificent sight. The crevice widened to reveal an ancient
city carved directly into the rockface. "It's stunningly beautiful,
reminiscent of the ancient city of Petra in Jordan on Earth but this could be
eons older. Jean-Luc, this site is a
spectacular find."
The starship captain could hear
the excitement is his wife's voice. If
their situation wasn't difficult enough, now he had to curb Vash's almost
insatiable curiosity in the face of an extremely tantalizing archaeological
treasure. Turning on his heel, he
forced her back several steps. He
looked down at her, waiting until he was sure that he had her complete
attention. His eyes locked with hers
and his voice carried a firm, commanding tone, "It is also a spectacular
place for our enemies to hide in ambush to kill us. No matter how fascinating these ruins are; this is not the time
to explore them. We need to move
quickly through this city. Every
pillar, doorway, window, and archway could be a deadly hiding place."
"Understood, Captain." She glared up at him defiantly. "You blow this site up before I get a
chance to do a thorough excavation and I swear you won't see me naked for a
standard solar year."
"Little girl, you don't
have to be naked for us to have sex," he retorted, stepping back before
rechecking the settings on the phaser rifle.
"And I don't for a moment think that you would relinquish one of
the most effective weapons in your arsenal; however, the sentiment behind the
warning is duly noted. Contrary to your
oft-stated opinion, I don't go around intentionally blowing up sites in order
to deny you your treasure hunts. I will
also note, for the record, that you concurred with the decision to blow up the
portal on Tama. I quote 'okay, fine,
you win, blow it up'."
"I was simply bowing to the
inevitable," she huffed.
With the phaser rifle held at
the ready, in a voice that brooked no further argument he ordered, "let's
go."
Although Vash was instinctively aware
of the majesty of her surroundings, the effort it took to keep up with
Jean-Luc's swift pace precluded even the most rudimentary exploration. He moved with the agility and speed of a
jungle cat, his years of tactical experience combining with the natural speed
that had made him an academy track star.
They had traveled about 300 meters into the city when a disrupter blast
came from behind, obliterating an elegant corbeil on a nearby building. Even as Jean-Luc bodily pulled her behind a
column of a nearby colonnade, she groaned at the senseless destruction. She caught a glimpse of movement behind a
pillar some distance back the way they'd come at almost the same instant that
Jean-Luc fired back. The first shot hit
the column that a Reman was using as cover, sending an explosive cascade of
stone shards in every direction. The
second shot from his phaser rifle hit the Reman but also destroyed the column
bringing down the elaborately carved entablature above. Glaring at her husband, Vash hissed,
"What's the matter, Napoleon, shooting the nose off of the sphinx wasn't
enough for you?"
"You know damn well there
is no evidence that Napoleonic troops destroyed the nose on the Sphinx. To continue with the analogy though, this
Napoleon has no qualms about firing a quantum torpedo and destroying the whole
damn Necropolis of Giza if I feel it is necessary to protect the life of my
Josιphine," he countered firmly while unceremoniously hauling her with
him. He picked up his pace through the
city trying to use the columns of the colonnade as cover as much as possible.
Vash stewed silently during the
swift trek through the city. Granted,
Jean-Luc was incredibly sexy when he was being so gallantly protective, but the
wholesale destruction of the antiquity around them was pissing her off. Suddenly, he stopped and she followed his
gaze to a side street across from them. In a glance, she determined that the
side street was an artificial modification to the crevice and she yearned to do
a thorough excavation to unearth clues about the culture responsible for this
treasure. Her archaeological curiosity
was interrupted when she spotted what had captured Jean-Luc's attention. Three Reman warriors were standing at the
far end of the side street. Halfway up
the street was magnificent baldacchino; the immense stone canopy, like
everything around them, was ornately carved with scenes from an alien
history. Her gaze locked with her
husband's and she instantly realized what he was planning. She breathed, "Jean-Luc, No. Don't you dare . . ."
"Stay here," he
commanded, cutting off her protest. He
stepped out into the open to intentionally catch the attention of the
Remans. Standing with the rifle held calmly
at his side, he watched the Remans begin to advance toward him. "Come on . . . that's it . . . just a
little closer," he muttered to himself.
Once all three Remans were beneath the solid stone canopy of the
baldacchino, Picard swiftly raised his phaser rifle and fired eight blasts in
rapid succession, destroying the structure's support columns. The massive stone feature collapsed with a
thunderous crash that echoed through the city as it crushed the Remans beneath
it. He knew he had just added to his
litany of archaeological sins and expected a caustic verbal barrage from his
wife; however, when he turned to face her, his blood turned to ice water.
Vash stood stock-still with her
hands down at her sides acutely aware of the cold muzzle of the disrupter
pressed against her temple. Silently
emerging from the shadow of a nearby doorway, the Reman had abruptly grabbed
her from behind and hauled her back against him before she'd had a chance to
make any noise. Her eyes locked on her
husband's face, his expression cold and impassive. With the lethal stare of a King Cobra, Jean-Luc's eyes only
briefly flitted to hers before moving to stare past her at her attacker.
"Captain Picard, as you
humans say, checkmate," the Reman emphasized the word mate and tightening
his grip around his captive's shoulders.
Instantly recognizing the Reman
Praetor's second in command, Picard addressed him in a voice of icy steel,
"Viceroy."
"A title I held in a former
life, a life you destroyed when you assisted the Romulan assassins that
murdered my Praetor and ended our Reman regime," the Viceroy hissed.
Vash's heart hammered against
her chest and she flattened her sweaty palms against the sides of her
thighs. When her left palm brushed over
one of the many utility loops on her field pants, she felt the smooth leather
of her field knife's sheath.
"You survived," Picard
noted while continuing to assess the situation. His mind was racing, looking for any opportunity to strike
without putting Vash at further risk.
"Yes, I escaped but only to
spend my time being hunted like an animal.
It is a small pleasure, but I will live long enough to see you die a
slow, painful death only after you have heard your wife's cries of anguish as
she is tortured to death ringing in your ears," the Viceroy sneered
maliciously.
Vash was waiting, alert for any
opening and hoping that his testosterone-charged puffing and strutting would
cause him to make a mistake. The
Viceroy didn't disappoint her, the hand holding the disrupter to her temple
relaxing slightly as he taunted Jean-Luc.
She caught the movement of the disrupter away from her temple in her
peripheral vision and didn't hesitate.
Her right leg snapped up and back to drive her heel into the Reman's
knee before stomping down hard on his foot.
She threw her head back against his face and heard his lower jaw crack
from the impact. His hold on her
loosened and she dropped slightly, grabbing his wrist with her right hand while
twisting out of his grip. Her left hand
swung up and embedded the knife in his throat just above the collar of his armor. With a strangled cry the Reman released his
grip on his disrupter, both of his hands clawing at the knife in his
throat. Vash dropped to the ground and
rolled away.
The instant that she was clear,
Picard raised his rifle and fired vaporizing the Reman Viceroy. The starship captain took a deep
breath. That had been close too damn
close. He reached out to help Vash up. "You all right?"
"I'm
fine," she took a deep breath.
"Rule number nine, never go anywhere without a knife." She took his hand and allowed him to pull
her to her feet. Her manner was
intentionally cavalier as much to bolster her own composure as it was to
reassure Jean-Luc. Releasing his hand,
she brushed the dust off of her trousers.
Glancing at the spot where the Reman had been, she looked back at her
husband and complained, "That was my best knife, custom made on
Qo'nos."
"Once we return home I'll
contact Ambassador Worf to arrange a replacement," he offered.
"Yes, you will." She picked up the disrupter that the Reman had
dropped and hooked it to her belt.
Despite her bravado-driven
nonchalance, it was still there, that awful twist in Picard's gut that started
all those years ago when she had been imprisoned in the tower in Nottingham
castle and reoccurred every time she was in danger. Q had been right back then, she was his Achilles' heel. He would always see her as his fair
damsel-in-distress, whether attired in pink satin as Maid Marion or in dusty
field gear. Right now he wanted nothing
more than to take her in his arms and never let go. Unfortunately at the moment that wasn't an option. His eyes searched hers. "Vash, --"
"Just hold that thought
until later," she placed a finger gently on his lips cutting him off. Her heart skipped a beat at the intensity of
emotion in his piercing eyes and in his voice.
Turning away to continue heading through the ancient city, she murmured
knowingly to herself, "Mind-blowing, it will be mind-blowing."
To Picard's great relief they
made it the rest of the way though the ancient city and the crevice without
further incident. Standing just inside
the crevice's opening, he peered out into the bright daylight. "There are six scorpion fighters being
guarded by three Reman soldiers. If you
add the nine Remans we've already dealt with that accounts for all twelve that
could have come down in the fighters."
"What's your plan?"
"I'm going to slip out of
the crevice to make my way along the rock face heading away from the fighters,
hopefully undetected. Once I feel I'm
far enough away from you and the fighters I'll create a diversion with a full
frontal assault drawing what's left of our Reman friends away from the
fighters. As soon as the Reman's have
focused their attention on me, I want you to head for the fighter second from
the end on our left, the one that is sitting in the worst of the sun's
glare. I know it's counterintuitive,
but stay away from any shadows. Put
your hair up into your hat, in this harsh light your light colored field
clothing should blend into the surrounding landscape. Once you've reached the fighter you'll need to work fast, your
clothes will be a stark contrast to the darker metal of the ship," he
instructed while checking the settings on his rifle.
She took out her hat and
sweeping her hair up into it she put it on. "I never again want to hear
you tell me I'm the one who is out of my "
"I'm not finished," he
cut her off with a firm command tone.
"If something should happen to me, you are to take off. Set course for Federation space, engage the
autopilot and the cloak."
"The treaty "
"To hell with the treaty,
you use the damn cloak and get back to Federation space. Once there issue a distress call on the
priority one channel using my authorization codes. And yes, I'm fully aware that you know them. Tell Admiral Nechayev exactly what happened
here."
"All right," she
nodded casting her eyes downward and swallowed hard, not wanting to think about
the unthinkable.
"And Vash,"
"Yes," she forced
herself to meet his gaze.
"Je t'aime, ma chere,"
he whispered, claiming her lips in a brief impassioned kiss.
"Je t'aime, Jean-Luc,"
she replied softly. He silently slipped
away, leaving her with nothing to do but watch the Reman guards and wait for
the sound of weapons fire. The long
minutes seem to stretch into hours.
Suddenly the silence was broken by phaser fire followed by disrupter
fire. All three guards moved from their
post toward Jean-Luc's position.
Vash
took off running toward the decided-upon scorpion fighter. She fiercely fought down the urge to look in
Jean-Luc's direction knowing that any delay could cost them their lives. Reaching the fighter, she quickly climbed up
to the canopy and breathed a sigh of relief to discover that the locking
mechanism was fairly standard. The
energy blasts from the weapons faded into background noise as she focused on
opening the canopy. She needed to make
sure she didn't damage the lock as they would need it in working order to make
their escape. She couldn't help the
slight smile when she heard the woosh of the air seal break and the canopy
began to rise.
"Get in and shut the
canopy!" Picard shouted chasing after the last remaining Reman. The final guard must have noticed the canopy
open and had turned to head back toward the fighters.
Vash heard Jean-Luc's warning
just as a disrupter bolt hit the side of the fighter near her foot. Jumping into the front seat she desperately
scanned the control panel searching for the correct button. Random energy bolts flew past her, forcing
her to slouch as far down in the seat as possible. Finally finding the correct button, she slammed her hand down on
it and urged the canopy to come down faster.
As the canopy locked into place, she closed her eyes and let out a deep
breath. The entire fighter lurched and
she opened her eyes to see Jean-Luc and the Reman guard engaged in close
quarters, hand to hand combat at the nose of the fighter, using their rifles
more like one would expect to use a Klingon bat'leth. She winced as Jean-Luc took a blow to the jaw. He staggered slightly before surging up with
an answering attack on the Reman. She
did her best to ignore the battle while working to hotwire the fighter's
systems. She managed to bring the
fighter's systems online and her eyes fell on the fighter's disrupter
controls. Looking up, she realized the
disrupters were located above the canopy.
'For once in your life, Jean-Luc, take a dive during a fight,' she
thought to herself while powering up the disrupters. She waited until Jean-Luc's eyes met hers and she mouthed,
"Get down!"
Picard was fairly sure he had
understood what Vash was telling him.
However, the momentary distraction had given his Reman opponent enough
of an opening to land a particularly nasty blow to the captain's midsection
sending him sprawling onto the ground.
The Reman was aiming his rifle when a blast from the fighter's disrupter
vaporized him from behind. Feeling the
searing heat from the energy beam prickle against his face, Picard quickly
turned his head away muttering, "Mon Dieu, woman."
Getting to his feet, Picard
noticed his wife's 'problem solved' smirk.
He climbed up onto the fighter and gave two taps to the canopy. He waited patiently for the canopy to open
before starting to speak. "I have
two questions, chere."
"Yes, dear," she
cooed, gazing up at him through her lashes.
"Are you planning on
flying?" he gestured to where she sat in the front seat.
"No. I wouldn't dream of it," she chuckled
while moving to the back seat. Settling
herself in, she inquired sweetly, "And your other question?"
"Am I missing an
eyebrow?"
Vash was pulled back into her
seat as the fighter's inertial dampeners worked to compensate for steep climb
to the outermost layers of the atmosphere.
She had just spotted the Romulan warbird in the distance when a
disrupter blast shook the ship. "What was it you said? 'To hell with the
treaty, use the damn cloak'."
"The cloak won't work in
the atmosphere. We're just going to
have to force our way past that warbird and into open space," Picard
replied, beginning evasive maneuvers.
Outside the planet's atmosphere the warbird shadowed his movements. Knowing he had no alternative but to take
the fighter right down the throat of the larger ship to get past her, the
captain set a heading straight out of the atmosphere and toward the
warbird. Suddenly, a second warbird
decloaked right overtop of the small fighter and destroyed the first warbird in
a hail of disrupter fire. The fighter
shook with the thunk of a tractor beam locking on.
"This is either our
salvation or we've gone from the frying pan into the fire," Vash muttered,
physical and emotional exhaustion dampening down any rising panic.
The fighter's communication system
crackled, coming to life showing the bridge of the warbird. "Captain and Professor Picard, this is
Commander Tomalak."
"Tomalak commanded the ship
that the Reman Praetor traveled on, " Picard grumbled grimly.
"But, Tomalak isn't a Reman
himself and I'm not seeing any Remans on the bridge of that ship," Vash
noted, not sounding overly optimistic herself.
The captain opened the channel,
"this is Picard."
"Ah, Captain Picard, I'm
delighted to find you and your wife unharmed.
When we realized that your vessel had been intercepted by one of the
warbirds still commanded by Remans, we had feared the worst. You seem to have more lives than, oh what is
the creature on your planet that is fabled to have nine lives a duck?"
the Romulan commander's tone dripped with his usual polite mendaciousness.
"A cat," Vash wearily
supplied the correct animal.
"A
cat; thank you, Professor Picard," Tomalak continued, "Captain, the
Federation has been contacted about salvaging the Kirk, but it will take time
for Federation vessels to arrive.
Considering that there may be more Reman-controlled warbirds in the
area, allow me to offer you and your charming wife safe passage to Romulus
aboard my ship."
"Considering our past
history, Commander, you'll forgive me if I don't completely trust in the
sincerity of your offer," the captain replied.
"I suspected you
wouldn't." Tomalak's demeanor changed to one of ruthless candor "Considering the recent political
changes on Romulus, destroying the Reman warbird and safely delivering you and
your wife would be the best way to show my allegiance to the Empire, thereby
assuring that my own rank and command do not end up as unfortunate victims of
the Reman regime."
Vash leaned forward laying a
hand on her husband's shoulder, "It has been my experience that given a
situation where you can trust nothing, you can always trust in blatant
self-interest."
"Very
insightful, my dear." Tomalak
commended her. "I see your wife's
reputation for being as cunning as she is beautiful is well earned,
Picard. She must be quite an asset to
you."
Not wishing to discuss the many
assets Vash possessed, Picard ignored the comment. "We accept your offer of passage, Commander."
"Very well. Prepare the fighter for docking and we'll
bring you aboard. Tomalak out."
Picard closed the channel and
readied the fighter for docking.
Deciding to nip a potential issue in the bud, he advised his wife,
"Vash, I do not consider traveling aboard Tomalak's warbird as having
extricated ourselves from this situation."
"Damn, well so much for
crossing off that fantasy about a night of wild sex on a Romulan warbird from
my list," Vash deadpanned. His
expression of shocked horror as he stared over his shoulder at her was one of the
best reactions she'd ever gotten from him.
Delighted, Vash giggled, "it is incredibly gratifying to know that
after all these years I can still put that look on your face."
.
It was a beautiful day in the
Romulan capital city. Vash could hear
several different kinds of local songbirds as she stood on the veranda of the
quarters assigned to Jean-Luc and her.
The past week had flown by quickly with Jean-Luc engaged in complex
negotiations while she had immersed herself in Romulan archaeology. She had just returned to their quarters
after having spent the entire morning and most of the afternoon helping a team
of Romulan archaeologists plan the first joint Federation/Romulan
archaeological expedition, an excavation of the ancient stone city she and
Jean-Luc had stumbled upon.
"Vash," Picard called
out as he entered the quarters.
"I'm out here," she
replied turning just in time to see him walk onto the veranda. Sitting down at the veranda's table, she
added, "it's just too beautiful to sit inside. So, how was your day?"
"Splendid actually. The Romulan government has agreed to allow
our deep space expedition toward the Delta Quadrant to travel through Romulan
space. They will also provide a warbird
to travel along with us across their territory to help fend off any Reman
attacks. Moreover, a small group of
Romulan civilian scientists will be joining our expedition. These are the applications for the Romulan
scientists who are interested in the opportunity. As the commander of the expedition the final decision on who goes
is mine." He sat down opposite
from her placing the large pile of PADDs he had been carrying on the table.
"Captain, I assume you're
planning to ask the different heads of the science departments for their
opinions?" She eyed the pile of
PADDs.
"Yes, Professor. You, as well as the rest of the science
department heads, will have considerable input," he chuckled.
She picked out a half dozen
PADDs to look over. "Are these the
candidates interested in the spots in the archaeology department?"
"Yes," he nodded. Watching her read over the PADDs, he
inquired playfully, "Do you have some opinions, Professor Picard?"
"Well, since you asked,
Professor Latona Parcae and Professor Somnus Parcae. They are a husband and wife team. They are good. They are
very, very good. I've been working
closely with them on the joint Federation/Romulan archaeological excavation of
the ancient stone city. They will be
leading the Romulan team." She
handed him two of the PADDs.
"And just who is heading up
Federation team on this joint Federation/Romulan archaeological
excavation?" he prompted although he was fairly sure he already knew the
answer.
"Why me, of course. After all, Jean-Luc it was my find,"
she answered blithely.
"Of course. When were you planning on " He was cut
off by the sound of the quarter's communication system. Getting up, he walked back into the quarters
and activated the panel on the wall.
The face of one of their Romulan guides appeared on screen.
"Captain, the Federation
starship Voluspa has just entered orbit and Captain Janeway has asked to speak
with you."
"Thank you. Could you send it here?" The captain replied.
"Of course, Captain. Please hold for Captain Janeway." The Romulan's face was replaced by Captain
Janeway sitting at her readyroom desk.
"Kathryn, it's good to see
you." Picard smiled at his fellow ship captain.
"Hello, Jean-Luc. I heard you could use a lift. I thought you'd like to know Mr. Paris
managed to repair enough of the Kirk's systems to fly her onto one of my
shuttlebays where he is completing repairs.
Considering the extensive damage done to the Kirk, Tom did seem rather
surprised to find it was you and not Commander Chakotay who was flying her at
the time." Janeway couldn't help
passing on the good-natured jibe.
"Any landing you walk away
from is a good landing," Picard retorted, hearing Vash's soft laugh as she
stepped up behind him.
"True," Janeway
conceded before turning her attention to Vash.
"Professor Picard, you'll be pleased to hear that Starfleet Command
and the Archeology council have officially agreed to your request. The Voluspa will transport you and your team
to the site and will remain there as support for the duration of the two week
excavation."
"Yes," Vash
crowed. "Thank you, Kathryn."
Janeway sat forward leaning
closer to the screen. "Vash, I'm going to be hanging nose to nose with a
Romulan warbird for two weeks."
Vash also leaned in her voice
taking on a conspiratorial tone, "will five pounds of that special blend
gourmet Columbian coffee make it worth your while?"
"That should take care of
it," Janeway teased, matching the tone.
Sitting back, she continued, "the head of my archaeology department
wanted to speak with you."
"Hello, Professor,"
Barbara Caldwell a pretty brunette reminiscent of a younger Vash greeted her.
"Barbara, we've got a lot
of work to do," Vash instructed her former assistant. "I'll send you everything I've managed
to gather up."
"Karita's already sent me
everything you've sent her." Caldwell advised referring to Vash's current
assistant. "All of our
preparations for the dig are already under way, all we'll need is the latest
things you've worked on with the Romulan team."
"Well done. Barbara, wait until you see this place
"
"Ladies," Picard cut
off his excited wife before she could really get going. "There are other considerations."
"It's all right,
Jean-Luc. My security team has already paired
up with a Romulan team and done a complete sweep of the site. And might I add, you left quite a
mess." Janeway interjected with a
smile.
"See, I can't take him
anywhere," Vash quipped.
"Barbara, we'll finish up preparations tomorrow morning."
"The usual 0800 works for
me," Caldwell replied.
"We'll
beam you aboard in two hours?" Janeway offered.
"Acknowledged and thank
you, Kathryn." Picard nodded.
"You're welcome, Janeway
out."
Once the channel was closed,
Picard turned to his wife. "You're
actually going to let this go until tomorrow morning instead of racing to the
archaeology lab as soon as we beam aboard?"
Things had been incredibly
hectic once they had reached Romulus and there had been little time for just
the two of them. Vash leisurely traced
his rank pips with her index finger.
"The Voluspa is a Federation starship and therefore once we beam
aboard her we will officially be back on Federation territory, correct?"
"That is
correct." Reaching up, he swiftly
captured her hand in his to still her teasing.
He knew she did that intentionally, just for the sheer purpose of
wreaking havoc on his senses and it always did.
Gazing up at him through her
lashes she purred only two words in a seductive whisper, "mind
blowing."
***FINIS***