August 27, 2007

Resistance Is Futile - Pt 21

Guinan paused again, and looked around. Ten-Forward had a moderate crowd, a little large for this early in the morning, but that happened once in while. Everyone seemed calm and happy. She walked to the comm unit again, which sounded even as she reached for it.


"Guinan here," she said.

"You called earlier?" Virginia asked, her tone strained, though it sounded like an attempt to be cheerful.


"I did. I had a feeling ... and you know the feelings I get ... I felt a shift, and I was just wondering if everything was all right with you."

There was a pause, almost too short to be noticed, before the other woman answered saying, "Why wouldn't everything be all right?"

Guinan looked at the comm unit sharply. Virginia only ever said that when something was wrong. And usually when there was someone who could overhear her. It was a code phrase that dated back to the Third Earth War. Virginia had a tendency to get into what Marcus called 'scrapes'...and Marcus had had a tendency to be able to get her out of them. Guinan hadn't known the two then, but she didn't doubt the retellings one bit. Remembering the codes reply that let the other know that she knew it was the code, Guinan replied with, "No reason I can think of."

"All's well that ends well," remarked Virginia, too lightly. "I'll talk with you later. I have to call my office as they've been harassing the lines."

"Right. We don't want them sending someone to check up on you."

"I'm the one admiral in StarFleet with watchdogs that take their 'job' seriously. Keep the chocolate nearby, k?"

"You can count on it." The conversation terminated and Guinan was even more concerned that she had been before. Not only had Virginia given a code phrase...after Guinan had replied with the acknowledging response, Virginia had also given the countersign 'All's well that ends well'. The request for chocolate was part of a code as well, though separate...something Marcus had devised for her to say in a crowd, or when starting to feel stressed, to let him know that she wanted a drink. To hear the three phrases all within the same conversation could not be a good sign.

Could it be...that something had shifted in Virginia?


Guinan didn't know for sure, couldn't know until that woman got her butt down here to talk, but Guinan knew one thing...Virginia's voice had held a tone that she seldom heard...and the three times Guinan had heard it before had been when Marcus had died, when Jayden died, and when Ian had been named Q. Each time, Virginia had emotionally downspiraled and disappeared for a time...usually after doing something drastic...like taking a shuttlecraft and facing down the Romulan fleet during the Romulan war...challenging the Warlord King of Anfasiz to a duel...drastic things...

Guinan, usually the epitome of calm...began to pace Ten-Foward and fidget.

August 26, 2007

Resistance Is Futile - Pt 20

Virginia sighed, her emotions tumultuously mixed with the pleasure that was slowly ebbing away. Picard might have called out the wrong name...more than once...but he certainly knew his way around a woman's body.

He still laid next to her, his arm holding her close. His fingers gently caressing her skin. "What are you thinking?"

She wondered if he really wanted to know. She decided not to find out. "That I ought to call Guinan and find out what she wanted. Then call my office and see what they want as well, before they decide to send in the calvary and someone just all of a sudden shows up."

"Virginia, tell me, why can't I make love to you when you're sober?" Picard asked.

It had been something long on the captain's mind, but out of the blue to Virginia. She tensed, and sat up. "Why must the sun rise in the east?" She got out of bed, rather abruptly to his way of thinking, and put her robe on. She ran her hands through her hair, and then stood there, just looking at him as she spoke. "Regulations. Some of them suck...but this one I agree with. Jean-Luc...Every couple bonds to some degree when they have sex...it's the way God made us. Some species, especially telepathic ones, can bond closer. The Vulcans actually start this bond with their betrothal ceremony. They have more control over the Bond that way. Gandraleayians have no control over the Bonding process...and ours is a deep Bond...and virtually unbreakable. It takes seven Gandraleayians to Break or Bind a couple's Bond, outside of death of course. Binding and Breaking this Bond is an extrememly painful experience, and not done lightly. It does cut down on promiscuity, adultery and divorce, though it does exist in our culture. Because alcohol renders my telepathy useless...makes me almost human...I cannot Bond with you, or anyone else, any more than a normal human."

"Does alcohol affect your entire race this way then?"

"No. And it doesn't even effect all hybrids the same way." She turned away and began to walk to her desk.

"Virginia..." He waited for her to pause and look back at him. "There are some planets where the sun rises in the west."

She turned back to him. "Yes, there are. Would you like to know what happened the last time I broke this regulation?"

"Were you punished?" How would they punish a person for something like that? Maybe he didn't want to know.

"Not by the Council. Jayden...couldn't handle the Bond that resulted. He loved me in his own way, but he wasn't prepared to have my presence always with him." Her voice faltered, but she went on, tears not quite leaking out of her eyes. "Even though he was human, and had no telepathic abilities of his own...the Bond does that Jean-Luc...he could hear me, feel me, even while with another woman...It's like a mind meld that never really terminates...there are whispers of each other in the back of our minds...Marcus loved me even more, for who I was...and he loved being Bonded with me that close. It saved our lives more times than I can count, especially during the Third World War. Jayden, after he had slept with other women...made sure I was paying attention...and killed himself. He found a transporter, set it for slow, wide disperal...and activated it."

Picard looked at her in shocked silence.

"That is why I will never violate that Regulation again."

"I don't blame you..." Words failed him.

Virginia turned around, and continued to her desk, the back of her robe gently swishing around her hips.

August 25, 2007

Resistance Is Futile - pt 19

Guinan paused in her activity.

She was gently wiping the top of the bar with cleaning rag, touching up after the reception and getting ready for the new day.

Only suddenly something had shifted.

Out of kilter.

A train ready to derail.

Slowly, Guinan looked around Ten-Forward. Nothing out of the ordinary. Yet...

She walked over to the comm unit and called the bridge. Data answered. "Data...is everything all right up there?"

"Yes," the confused sounding android replied. "We are presently maintaining our course at impulse speed."

"Is the captain there?" she asked, knowing that Picard would understand her asking, even if he didn't really understand.

"Negative. He has not reported in yet. Shall I attempt to locate him for you?"

Perhaps the android understood better than she thought. "No," said Guinan. "That won't be necessary. Thank you." She broke the link before he could reply.

That meant that he was either sleeping...or with Virginia. Or even sleeping with Virginia. Still at the console, she called Virginia. No answer.

Guinan walked away. Something was wrong. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was around...but it didn't feel like that.

Yet.

She had no love for the Q...him least of all...though Virginia did have a soft spot for him. But then, she was entitled...before he had been Exiled and named Q, Ian had been Virginia's teacher. This...felt different...but connected.

And it couldn't be the Borg.

Yet.

There was no way that Data would have sounded that calm without the captain on the bridge if there had been a Borg cube anywhere within sensor range. The fact that Data was an android notwithstanding.

She would be patient...and alert...because whatever it was...was big...and it wasn't going away.

August 19, 2007

Resistance Is Futile - Pt 18

Warning: sexually explicit scene at the end. Kids, be good and skip this post.

Virginia awoke to a pounding headache, which was probably from the Romulan Ale she had imbibed the night before...shortly before the furious doctor had punched her. Still, it could have been worse...she could have drunk the Klingon Bloodwine.

Vaguely she wondered how long she had been unconscious. Her head felt like it would split in two, reminding her why she usually stayed away from Romulan Ale. Because it never helped. Oh, it had deadened her telepathy, along with her other powers, but it did nothing for the ache just below her breastbone.

Opening one eye, she saw with relief that she was in her own quarters and her own bed. The last time she'd been knocked unconscious, Billy and Zed hadn't noticed and had actually left her in the fields of Alpha Centauri. It had been hours before she had awaken, and another three for her to walk back to Headquarters where they had run. They never did apologize.

"You have the look of one lost in memory," a male voice interrupted her thoughts.

Virginia started and looked around, her other eye popping open.

"Over here," directed Captain Picard.

As she sat up, she came to the realization that she was naked beneath the sheet that covered her. Keeping it pulled close to her chest, she faced the captain with a red face. He sat with one leg crossed over the other, and his chin resting on his hand. "Who undressed me?"

Picard's eyes twinkled with mischief as he answered her. "I wish that I could say it was me, but it was Doctor Selar and her medics."

"What time is it?" Virginia refused to cover herself further. No doubt the captain had already had an eyeful, and to be honest, she was enjoying his admiring gaze.

"Seven in the morning, after the wedding. How do you feel?"

"I am reminded why Romulan Ale is illegal. Why do we let that slide, anyway? I mean, imagine how Kirk and his crew would have fared with Chancellor Gorkon and General Chang if they hadn't served Romulan Ale...they might not have ended up in Rura Penthe."

"Worf has commented that it was probably a good idea that you were absent for the Khitomer Accords."

"On the other hand, had I been present...would the conspiracy have gotten as far as it did? Their dislike of the Klingons stemmed from their fear that without an ever-present enemy, they would be mothballed. Kirk's dislike stemmed from the murder of his son at their hands. Mine is solely based on their religious godlessness. Nothing else...they drive me nuts. But I still wouldn't have let Gorkon die, he was an extraordinary man."

"How long until the alcohol wears off?" Picard asked, deciding not to comment further on the Klingons.

Virginia sighed and took a moment to concentrate. There wasn't so much as a whisper in her mind. "Probably the rest of the day."

"Your office has called three times this morning. They don't seem to take our word for it that you're all right."

"I don't doubt it. They rarely take my word for it. Have you figured out what set Beverly off?”

“She found out about Deanna’s mission.”

“But…I told Deanna to discuss it with her.”

“For reasons unknown to me, Deanna didn’t. Beverly has since been informed of all the details of the mission and is quite mortified that she hit you.”

“Where is she now? I hope you haven’t put her in the brig.”

“No, she is confined to her quarters. Unless you say otherwise.”

“I’ll see to her later. First, I’d better call my office.” Virginia looked to where her robe hung, over the back of the chair next to where the captain was sitting. Her powers were still rendered useless from the ale, so there was no transporting the robe onto her body or floating it through the air. And she was still naked beneath the sheet. Picard’s face showed his amusement over he predicament. Refusing to ask him to hand it to her, Virginia threw the sheet off and climbed out of the bed. Slowly, she walked towards him, watching how his eyes sparkled, as he looked her over before becoming riveted to her own.

For his part, Picard was momentarily speechless. The grace with which she moved across the carpeted deck…the lack of shame in her face over being naked in front of him…the sway of her breasts and her hips…the way her lips quickened in smile…the frank desire in her eyes as she stood before him. "Good God..." he whispered before standing to embrace her and kiss her passionately.

She responded by wrapping her arms around him and pressing herself close. With ease, she walked backwards as he guided her back to the bed. Her hands sought out the fasteners of his uniform as his lips traveled to her neck, his hands running down her back to brush across her buttocks. Nibbling on his ear, she disrobed him, her hands making more than a passing acquaintance with his body.

“You are beautiful,” Picard murmured, taking her breasts in his hands. His mouth dropping down to cover her right nipple.

Virginia couldn’t stop herself from moaning. It had been so long since she had been touched in this manner…held and kissed. She lowered herself to the bed, Jean-Luc following. His hands, his mouth, covering her body with caresses and kisses. And then he said her name.

No, not her name…the name he murmured low in his throat as he entered her…was another’s. But it was too late to go back now. Now, his hands were covering her breasts in the way she liked as he pressed her legs further open with his body as he thrust himself deeper, his lips nuzzling her throat...her hands splayed across the back of his shoulders. She shut her mind to nothing but the physical pleasure, shutting her heart away from the hurt of hearing him murmur Beverly’s name.

August 10, 2007

Resistance is Futile - pt 17

On the other side of Ten-Forward, Lwaxana Troi stood near the drink table. Her drink dangled in her hand forgotten as her gaze drifted between two couples, her daughter and new son-in-law and Picard and Hamilton.

Lwaxana was happy, though she was careful not to let on. Her daughter was in love and nestled in the arms of her new husband. The Betazoid woman didn’t doubt for a minute that the two faced a difficult future. Honestly, what marriage didn’t have its difficulties? And as for Picard…while it was true that she’d once been attracted to him, they had since become friends…even if she did irritate the man, which he never seemed to realize she did on purpose! While Lwaxana had never cared for Gandraleayians, finding them to be an uppity and prideful race, she did happen to have a soft spot for this particular half-breed.

The admiral had a habit of coming to Betazed at least once a year, and the two of them had talked on several occasions. Only tonight though, was Lwaxana able to see…or rather ‘hear’…beyond the alien woman’s shields. Virginia Hamilton was everything she appeared to be, and several things that she didn’t. And all that was from things Lwaxana could hear freely broadcast by the other woman. Virginia was very smitten with the man she was dancing with. Whether Picard would move beyond being smitten with her in return, was something yet to be seen.

Beside Ambassador Troi stood Beverly Crusher…a woman whose thoughts were an angry rumble.

“Damn,” the doctor muttered out loud.

“Problem, dear?” Lwaxana asked unnecessarily as she spared the angry redhead a glance.

“She’s…No, Lwaxana, nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re lying, but I’ll let you.”

The Klingon matriarch Sirella approached just then. “I just want you to know,” the woman said to Lwaxana with grated teeth. “That I do not approve of this marriage or your daughter.”

“It matters very little whether we approve, Sirella, because it’s over and done with. They really don’t care.” Lwaxana pulled herself up to her full height and managed to look down her nose at the Klingon woman. “And I’ll have you know that my daughter is a Daughter of the 5th House of Betazed, holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, and heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed…AND she’s recently accepted a highly dangerous mission against the Borg which is why they hurried the wedding.”

There was a moment of silence between the women as the dance music played.

“Are you serious?” Beverly demanded.

“You didn’t know?”

“Excuse me.” Beverly left the two and strode out onto the dance floor toward Deanna.

Considerate mother that she was, Lwaxana telepathically warned her daughter of the approaching situation.

Deanna turned from dancing with her new husband as Beverly reached her.

“Is it true?” the doctor demanded in a harsh hiss. “You’re going on a mission against the Borg?”

“This is not the place to discuss it,” replied Deanna. “But yes.”

“Is this the reason why Admiral Hamilton is here?”

Deanna opened her mouth to reply, but her friend had already rashly turned away and was striding angrily across the dance floor toward the admiral, whom the counselor was pleased to see in Captain Picard’s arms. “Damn.” Deanna turned her gaze to her mother, who was already talking to her telepathically.

I’ve already told Jean-Luc, echoed Lwaxana’s voice in her head.

Deanna turned back to watch, even as her husband tapped his comm badge and began to talk to the security officers around the room. She watched as the captain looked up, startled, and began to inconspicuously move the admiral away.

He wasn’t fast enough.

Beverly literally pulled the other woman out of Picard’s arms and punched her solidly in the jaw…and chaos erupted.

Admiral Hamilton staggered backwards into the captain. The surrounding couples moved away quickly, even as security officers moved in. Beverly had landed another blow before Picard was able to place himself between the two women and security could lay hold of her.

Normally, Virginia could take a beating and keep on standing, largely due to her alien heritage. However, this night she had foolishly downed a tall glass of Romulan Ale and was unconscious after the first blow.

Picard lowered Virginia to the floor and tapped his comm badge. “Medical team to Ten Forward.”

Data, the ever-present security chief, appeared and asked, “Shall I confine Doctor Crusher to her quarters?” She was, after all, a ranking officer.

“Yes, fine. Just get her out of here.” Picard didn’t even look at Beverly. He had never seen the doctor in such a state before and to be honest…it was more than a bit disconcerting.

With unprecedented speed, the medical team had arrived even as security was escorting the CMO out of the room. The medical team didn’t even hesitate at the odd site, although Doctor Selar raised her elegant Vulcan eyebrow at it.

“What happened?” asked Selar as she knelt across the prostrate woman from her captain, already aiming a tricoder at her.

“Doctor Crusher belted her in the jaw, twice.”

As the Vulcan doctor took her readings, Picard was struck be the unconscious woman’s look of helplessness. What an irony…the powerful alien woman, defenseless in the arms of the human captain.

“She is also drunk,” Selar stated. “There is no serious injury. She might have some bruising and tenderness until the alcohol is out of her system and she can heal herself.”

“You can’t…”

“Regulations. Her injury is not life threatening. The most we can do is move her to her quarters and let her sleep it off.”

Regulations again. Picard did well at hiding his disgust at the word. “Very well.”

As the attendants to Selar situated the unconscious admiral on a stretcher, Picard went to speak to the bride and groom.

“Captain,” began Deanna, standing with Worf at the refreshment table, with Guinan nearby. “Is she all right?”

“Yes. She’ll be fine. I’d like to apologize…”

“Nonsense Jean-Luc!” exclaimed Lwaxana, joining them, a glass of wine in her hand. “It was hardly your fault.”

“Still…”

“Captain…it’s all right,” said Deanna.

Picard sighed in relief. He wondered if his absence would be noticed if he were to leave with the admiral. Even as her thought that, he remembered that he was in the same room as a telepath and shot Lwaxana a guarded look.

“Now,” Deanna continued, “Don’t you think you ought to go see to the admiral?”

“Yes, thank you,” replied Picard with a smile. He nodded to the group, “Ladies, Worf, good evening.” With a smooth motion, the captain turned and briskly left Ten Forward.

“That went well,” Guinan said dryly.

“The admiral has always had a habit of livening up parties,” cpmmented Worf. “We should be glad there was no fire.”