Sabotage has become a trilogy. Hope you meant it when you said you wanted
another story....
If you haven't yet, you might want to read the first installment to pick up
on nuance, especially w/ PC.
And of course, Paramount = Q = omnipotent = only fun, no profit.
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Sabotage II Chapter One
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Shoulder to shoulder, the two fugitives made their way quickly and cautiously through the Starfleet detention center. T'shar glanced at the path behind compulsively. It was 'night' in the center, but that would not prevent unexpected encounters. Her companion had aptly disabled the section's alarms, but it was simply a matter of minutes before the tampering became evident. Now passing through the entry area, T'shar glanced through the windows to the twin moons illuminating the hallway. A few more steps and she would be free.
Almost too easily, they reached the beam-up coordinates. For an instant the rescue ship de-cloaked. Putting on a good show for Starfleet, they lingered seconds more before re-cloaking and jumping to warp. By the time the pursuit ships were alerted, their distinct M'dar ion trail was already growing cold.
**********
The short paragraph briefly piqued Picard's interest as he scanned the weekly Starfleet briefing. That T'shar had escaped was disturbing, but not alarming. The Federation had quickly determined the origin of the alien ship remnants the Enterprise had deposited a month or so earlier, that of a reclusive and almost unheard of Terran resettlement colony, the M'dar. In a remote section of the quadrant, little was known or thought of the small band of people occupying a small M-class planet far from the neutral zone or other critical sectors. Starfleet's interests had become increasing strategic, and less scientific in the past years. Picard felt strong misgivings at this turn, but also saw the necessity for increased wariness. The Romulans and Cardassians grew increasingly bold, and there were rumors coming from deep space of a new menace identified as 'the Dominion.' Brief contact with M'dar leaders had assured investigators that T'shar had been a rogue mercenary exiled by the planet's governing council for unscrupulous activities on the homeworld.
What was alarming about the escape was the fact that it had been an M'dar ship that executed the affair. Picard bristled. He knew first hand of T'shar's treachery. It was not impossible that she'd had more than one ship under her command. But it was also possible that the M'dar leaders had mislead Starfleet - and that T'shar was an operative, not an outlaw.
He filed the information away in the back of his mind, and turned his attention to the ship's current business. The Enterprise had spent a week in space dock recuperating from their first run-in with the M'dar, and after that had been assigned to diffuse a diplomatic and medical crisis on the twin planets of Cambria IV and V. While the mission had ended successfully weeks later, the drain on the command and medical staff had been immense. They had docked again at Starbase 202, this time to receive another wave of new personnel. For many reasons, it was with heavy heart that Picard reviewed the list of transfers. It was only through her pride and obstinance that Beverly Crusher's name was not on it.
**********
"Welcome back, Captain T'shar." Chancellor H'rar clapped a hand to the woman's shoulder and turned to walk with her down the hall of the M'dar command center. "The new plans are proceeding on schedule, and we need you at the helm of the Alpha attack ship."
"Well then, Chancellor, it's good to be home. I'm glad that the failure of the initial mission has not slowed us in reaching our ultimate goals." Her pride still stung from her capture.
H'rar's brow lowered, but his countenance remained staid. "Luckily, T'shar, the M'dar have never been a people to launch Plan A without having first developed a functional Plan B - and a blueprint for C."
T'shar grinned wickedly, and stopped to face the imposing Chancellor, hands behind her back and her chest swelling with pride. "Captain T'shar reporting for duty sir! I have every confidence in our ability to succeed with the mission." With that she turned smartly on her heel, and headed off to inspect her new battle cruiser.
H'rar's brow lifted as he continued on to his office. Indeed, the M'dar was already half-way prepared to launch their next offensive, which would prove to be more than damaging to Starfleet. Having learned well from their newest allies, the Cardassians, H'rar pondered how emotionally and mentally crippling an enemy could be almost as effective as crippling their actual fleet. A combination of the two, he hoped, would result in ultimate demise. While he personally detested the Cardassians, they had paid well for the secrets of Hepa III. And when the time came, they would provide the strategic advantage to bring Starfleet, and the Federation, to its knees.
**********
"Deanna, I don't want to hear it!" Beverly Crusher leveled an intense gaze at the counselor as she bustled through her cabin, changing out of her uniform and into her workout clothes. She was dialed up to 10, and there was only one way to get back down - exhaustion. She'd booked the holodeck for an entire hour of Klingon battle simulations. After that, she might head to the ship's gym to lift and stretch, before returning to her quarters with just enough energy to fall into bed, and hopefully peaceful slumber.
"Beverly, you need to confront the Captain and arrive at a resolution. Professionally, you will not be able to continue this way. I'm not even going to get into how you feel about the situation personally."
A high flush appeared on the Doctor's cheeks. "Forget it! There's no resolution to be had! Picard questioned my judgement, my authority, and my medicine!" Beverly waved her hand to illustrate the point. "I'm not even sure if this can be repaired professionally. And it's wise of you to skirt the personal - because for that there is no hope." She emphatically slammed the lid of the clothing recycler and turned to Troi. With a resigned sigh, and a deep sadness in her eyes, she continued. "Honestly, Deanna, I don't even know why I'm still on this ship."
"Beverly, you're here because we're your family." Troi walked over and laid a hand on her arm. Squeezing gently, she looked up without fear into Crusher's icy stare. "And Will would win way too much at poker."
Beverly was unmoved, but not untouched by her friend's words. They were a family, and the thought of leaving them behind made her stomach clench. On the other hand, thoughts of Jean-Luc Picard made her spitting mad and slightly ill. She was unsure whether she'd be able to reconcile the two emotions. She smiled hesitantly, tersely, and it did not reach her eyes. The look was familiar to Troi. It basically said, "I hear you, but my mind's made up."
Deanna felt Crusher's uncertainty, and was more than a little convinced that even her diplomatic skills would not be enough to mend this rift. Beverly had been stubborn, and Picard unrelenting. Both had been a little in the wrong. Add to that the fear and rejection each felt, and Troi thought that perhaps she'd have better luck negotiating a peace treaty between the Romulans and the Klingons.
**********
As Beverly panted and dodged through her workout, she reflected on the past month. It was not so much the events that plagued her, but the subsequent malaise they'd inflicted on her life. It was almost impossible to account for the space Jean-Luc had filled in her day. He'd been friend, confidant, mentor, and.... it was the intangible that she missed the most. For more than seven years, some previously invisible, yet large part of her psyche had been occupied and buoyed by hope - by the prospect of something *more* with Jean-Luc. It was now all replaced by melancholy. Her routine seemed empty, her activities two-dimensional. She'd lost the spark, and that was no way to live. One way or the other, she needed to move on.
**********
Riker carefully and surreptitiously observed his Captain. Picard sat rigid, a stern look plastered to his face. There were no secrets on a ship like the Enterprise, and the mood on board was profoundly affected by its senior staff. There was not one ensign who didn't feel the tension emanating from the bridge, and not one patient that passed through sickbay who didn't miss the previously compassionate and jovial bedside manner of Doctor Crusher. The Captain and the First Lady were at war - and the prime casualty was the morale of the entire crew. Riker was responsible for the crew's disposition, and the situation could not be brooked. A solution would be found, or, he feared, someone would need to leave.
Exhaling, Riker stood, and nodded to Picard. "Sir, with your permission, I'll be greeting the newest transport of personnel. Our new Chief of Security is scheduled to arrive with them."
Picard dismissively waved Will on, his attention never wavering from the padd he'd been studying. "Yes Will. Please have him report to the bridge when he's settled in."
Will straightened his tunic and headed to the lift. Things definitely needed to change.
He arrived in the transporter room as the shimmering blue columns coalesced into beings. Along with Worf's replacement were two new medical staff, and two new science officers. Riker stepped forward to greet the new Chief, as representatives from other departments greeted the remaining personnel. "Lieutenant Walker, welcome to the Enterprise. I'm First Officer William T. Riker." He grasped the man's hand, and was surprised, but not shocked, by the rock-hard, but gentle grip. 'Heartbreaker' was about the only word he could muster for the man, who reminded him of himself - without the soft edges.
Jack Walker smiled warmly and stepped from the transporter pad. His voice was resonant, and accented. Riker guessed the southeast of the North American continent on Earth. "Glad to be here sir. I understand I have some big shoes to fill."
Grinning, Riker looked down. "Well, by the looks of it, you won't have trouble in that department. Let's get you some quarters." Will felt at ease with Walker, and hoped the Captain would to. They made their way out of the room and toward the lift.
"I hear an accent Lieutenant. You're from Earth?"
"Yes sir." Walker was tall, and his stride was long and easy. He and Riker were on the lift momentarily. "My family has lived for six centuries in the 'formerly proud state of North Carolina,' as my great grandma liked to recount while sipping a mint julep. The accent doesn't wear off easy."
Riker smiled. If Walker had been wearing a hat, Will swore he would have tipped it at him.
The lift stopped, and they arrived at Walker's quarters. Stepping in, he whistled. "This'll be just fine, Commander. They weren't kiddin' about these galaxy class starships. Now what time should I report to the bridge?"
"The Captain has requested that you report as soon as you're settled in. The alpha shift is over in a few minutes. Captain Picard will likely be in his ready room, and you can find him there."
"All right then. I'll be by in just a bit. Thank you, Commander Riker."
Riker's blue eyes twinkled. "Absolutely Lieutenant. See you at the staff meeting in the morning. And please call if you need assistance." Will made his way directly out, and back to the bridge. This would make Deanna's day.
**********
"T'par to M'dar command. I am in position onboard the Enterprise. I await the signal."
H'rar reviewed the text messages from all operatives. On the M'dar homeworld, the armada was nearly ready for launch. Five battle cruisers, manned with engineered soldiers, would strike five Starfleet ships synchronously. They would all even be at the same coordinates, like shooting fish in a barrel. All infiltrators were in place, ready to sabotage the target ship's defense systems at the critical time. They were suicide missions, but the volunteer's families were rewarded generously. H'rar had little doubt the targets would be in the right locations. Already, false information had been circulated to Starfleet intelligence. With the Cardassian's aid, phase one of the M'dar attack would pave the way for the next step of the plan. He congratulated himself on the final stroke of genius. The sabotage onboard the decimated ships would be detected - and Starfleet would be too busy trying to find the M'dar to even see the next hit coming.
**********
Picard looked up as the chime sounded to his ready room. Each time this happened, for a fleeting moment he hoped it would be Beverly. Then, that hope would be replaced by doubt and anger. His face fell into a stern mask. "Come."
Jack Walker strode in, calm and confident. "Lieutenant Jack Walker, reporting for duty sir."
Picard rose, tugged at his uniform, and walked around his desk. Extending his arm, he greeted Walker. "Good to have you onboard. I trust that you have met Commander Riker?"
Picard returned to his desk and motioned for the man to sit. Walker nodded and sat opposite. "Yes sir. I look forward to working with him."
The Captain took in his new Security Chief. He was tall and broad. His posture was straight but relaxed, and he seemed to have an easy manner about him. His record was strong, and Picard was optimistic about his potential performance on the Enterprise. The two men spoke for a while. Satisfied, Picard rose. "Morning staff briefings are at 0800 hours. After that, I expect you'll want to brief your department and begin working on personnel assignments. Commander Riker can assist you. Until then, please make yourself at home."
Walker stood and offered his hand again. The men shook, the Lieutenant's gaze never leaving the Captain's. He turned gracefully and left. On his way through the bridge, he again inclined his head at Riker, who returned the gesture. Deanna's eyes simply followed the man up the ramp and into the lift.
Will leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, "See what I mean?"
Deanna gave no audible reply, only nodded.
*********
Beverly Crusher lay in bed, exhausted. Sleep however, still would not come. Instead, her thoughts went to where they always did of late. Back to her dinner with Jean-Luc a month ago at Starbase 202. It had all started out so well.
"Beverly, you are beautiful."
The unexpected compliment caught her off guard, and she blushed. Taking Jean Luc's arm as she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, the two made their way out of the lodge and toward the nearby village. Picard had made reservations at an intimate and well-reviewed local restaurant.
It took her a minute to gather her resolve, and she finally responded. "Thank you Jean-Luc - you look quite handsome yourself." She smiled, her eyes alight with mischief. The path they walked was lit by gas lanterns, and every so often they would pass another couple returning from the village and nod. The night was warm, as was the breeze. Both Crusher and Picard were enraptured by the indigo sky and twinkling stars. And, though neither would admit, by each other.
Beverly's hair was half-pulled up, neatly secured in a tortoise brown clip, the rest cascading down her back. She had let it grow longer recently, and let it revert back to a somewhat darker auburn hue that complimented and warmed her complexion. It fell in soft waves to her shoulder blades. Over plain-front, well-cut trousers, she wore a matching fitted and very old- fashioned dark chocolate brown ¾ length sleeve knit top, with a v-neck that began at a turned-down collar. At the last minute she'd put on a delicate strand of pearls, and matching earrings. Picard could not wait to sit opposite her so he could gaze more openly. He had dressed well for the evening, and was equally stunning. In black slacks and a lightweight charcoal sweater that drew attention to his hazel eyes, his well-toned frame cut quite a line. Together they were striking.
They arrived and were escorted to a table with an expansive view of the lake. It was both serene and hypnotic as the lanterns along the edge played on the water's surface. Surrounded on all other sides by towering pine trees, the ambience was more than romantic. Beverly's heart beat contentedly as they reclined in their chairs, wine already in hand.
Slowly, she locked eyes with Picard and leaned forward She took up his hand from the table. "Penny," she intoned softly.
*********
Picard was lost in thought when the terminal in his quarters beeped loudly. He had been thinking of Beverly again, and that damned dinner. Shaking the swirling fog from his mind, he rose and touched the screen. Immediately Admiral Necheyev's face appeared.
"What can I do for you, Admiral?"
"Captain Picard. Good evening. I have new orders for the Enterprise." Her approach was always direct. "You will depart immediately from Starbase to the Cardassian neutral zone. Starfleet intelligence indicates a build-up of cloaked activity in several sectors there. We are sending five ships out to investigate the area. You will observe for a week, rendezvous with the other ships, compare notes, and report back. You will receive exact coordinates shortly."
"Fine, Admiral." Picard was in fact, far from pleased with the new assignment. He detested dealing with anything involving Cardassians. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"
"As a matter of fact, we have reason to believe this might have something to do with the M'dar. Though we are unsure exactly what."
The hair at the base of Picard's neck bristled. He was not surprised.
"Very well Admiral. I await further instruction. Picard out."
Necheyev bent forward and terminated the transmission. Picard's screen was filled with blue and white.
Brows raised and exhaling loudly, Picard turned from the desk and toward the bedroom. He was done for the day. He had little to look forward to in the morning. Breakfasts with Beverly were a thing of the past.
**********
Picard waited for the rest of the staff to finish assembling to begin the morning briefing. All were punctual except Dr. Crusher, who was, as usual, running behind. Her tardiness had been exaggerated of late. She no longer sat at the Captain's right hand, but instead at the end of the table next to Geordi. He turned to begin despite her absence when she breezed in and took her seat without a word.
"Good of you to join us, Doctor Crusher. Is there a reason we cannot expect you to be on time?"
The senior staff shifted uncomfortably. While these scenes were always painful, they were becoming routine. Walker looked surprised, and reminded himself to be early to his next meeting with the CO. Clearly there was some back story he'd missed. By all accounts he'd gotten, these two were typically attached at the hip.
"No Captain, no reason that might not be excused by courtesy. Do you feel my behavior worthy of taking more of the staff's time to correct?" Her gaze was even and challenging. She might as well have walked over and slapped him with a glove.
Now Walker knew something was up. This woman was a long cool drink of water to look at - but apparently there was more than met the eye. Picard didn't appear a bit phased, however.
"The staff's time, Doctor, is my point exactly. We will not discuss this further here. However, you have made a habit of tardiness, and I'm afraid it's simply not acceptable." Picard stared back at Crusher, just as evenly, his voice low and monotone. "Please see me in my ready room at the conclusion of this meeting." Picard wasn't sure where the last sentence came from. He was desperate for a détente, but had absolutely no idea what to say to Beverly. The situation, however, had gotten out of hand.
For her part, Crusher was fuming. Deanna's mental facilities were in full force blocking out the two ends of the conference table. She dared not relax for a moment.
Not to be outdone, and incensed at the public chastising from Picard, she responded casually, "I'm afraid I have urgent matters to attend in sickbay this morning, Captain. Perhaps another time." Her challenge to his authority was now brazen. No one believed he would call her bluff. Riker surveyed the table to find the rest of the staff suddenly fascinated by its reflective surface. Clearly this needed to end, now. He cleared his throat.
Jean-Luc and Beverly finally ended their stalemate. Neither wanted to be the first to look down, but Picard recognized that the briefing had to continue. At Will's cue he began reciting Necheyev's orders. At the conclusion he turned to Walker, "Lieutenant, we will be very close to the neutral zone. I need tactical and security ready at all times. We arrive at the target coordinates in one week. Do you feel you will be up to speed by that time?"
Walker did not seem at all apprehensive. "Absolutely Captain. I've been studying the Enterprise extensively, and the crew I've met so far seem more than capable. If it's necessary, we'll give 'em a good fight." Crusher, Troi, and even the rest of the staff seemed charmed by his delivery.
Picard gave a smile that seemed more like a grimace and stood, tugging his uniform smartly. "Very good Mr. Walker. If there's nothing more, dismissed." He looked to all officers save Beverly, turned, and walked onto the bridge. All followed but Walker and Crusher.
He'd met the rest of the staff in 10 Forward the previous evening. He approached the Doctor with trepidation but an open smile. Extending a hand, he cleared his throat and caught her attention. Women usually paused when they first met Jack Walker, but Crusher hadn't so much as glanced his way. "Dr. Crusher, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you yet."
She simply turned and replied, "No, you haven't." The look he received about froze his hand in mid-air. Undeterred, he kept his hand out. She was testing him. One uncomfortable second later, she responded with a firm grip.
"All new reporting personnel are required to have a physical upon boarding the ship. I can schedule yours for today. What time are you available?"
Right to business, then. "Well, I've got to speak to my security crew right now, but I can stop by mid-morning." He thought he'd give her some time to cool off.
Her eyes softened, almost imperceptibly. "Very good. Report to Nurse Powell."
"Sure Doctor. See you then." He grinned again openly, and turned from her. Crusher found herself wishing she hadn't been so harsh. Jack Walker wasn't hard to look at, that was for sure. He was tall, tanned, and, though she hated to use the word, chiseled. His appearance was youthful, but not boyish. She estimated him to be between 35 and 40. His dark hair was close cropped but well styled. His eyes were warm and deep brown, his features classically handsome. And, if Crusher remembered her youth correctly, he had what she recalled as an intoxicating 'southern drawl.'
Dismissing the thought she reached sickbay, where contrary to what she'd told the Captain, she had relatively little to do.
"Alyssa, add Lieutenant Walker to the schedule for today. He'll be in later this morning for a physical. I'll be in my office."
"Aye sir." Powell favored her with a skeptical glance. Crusher had been in an abysmal mood lately, and it made sickbay intolerable. Everyone knew the problem and unfortunately no one was in a position to solve it. Powell could practically see her credits in the betting pool going down the drain.
**********
Walker's security briefing went well, and he was indeed thoroughly versed on the Enterprise's tactical specs. He seemed to have no problem picking up his duties as Chief of Security. At 1200 hours he stepped off the bridge and onto the lift for sickbay. On the way down he endeavored to step into his most bewitching personality. He had a feeling he'd need it.
The mood when he arrived was no less tense than that on the bridge. Walker had the feeling he'd arrived on the wrong ship at the wrong time. But there hadn't been many women he couldn't charm. He looked at this as a challenge.
"You must be Lieutenant Walker." A petit dark haired woman smiled up at him.
"That's right ma'am. I'm here to see Doctor Crusher for my physical."
"I'll just get her. Take off your uniform jacket and have a seat on the main biobed."
"Whatever you say Lieutenant. It's your sickbay."
Alyssa smiled to herself as she made her way to Crusher's office. Jack Walker would be a great addition to the ship....
Moments later Crusher appeared from her office, lab coat on and tricorder in hand. Glancing up, her morning seemed just a little brighter. Jack Walker looked built in his jacket, and there was nothing to disappoint underneath. The good part of being a Doctor - some physicals were more fun than others.
"Well Lieutenant, you're punctual."
"It seems the Captain doesn't take well to being late."
Her brow darkened. Wrong line. "Well, he runs the ship doesn't he?" Crusher began her scans. "Breathe deeply."
Walker's chest expanded impressively. "So, how long you have you been hanging around the Enterprise, Doctor?"
"Eight years now, Lieutenant."
He gave a low whistle. "That's a lifetime for Starfleet. You must like it here."
"Indeed. Nothing lasts forever, though." Her tone was resigned. "I see your last physical was a year ago. Anything to report since then?"
"Nothing interesting, Doctor. But I'm sure you'll let me know if that changes." His eyes were wide and he smiled openly. His teeth were even and white. A real charmer, thought Beverly. Coming from anyone else, the dialog would have seemed cheesy and flat. Somehow though, she found herself softening up.
"Well Lieutenant, you're in excellent health. I'll have to send your records in to be studied at the Academy." She patted him on the shoulder. "Done - you're hereby certified for duty." She managed a crooked grin that passed as a smile.
"Well, Doctor, even the healthiest of us needs to eat. Care to join me for lunch?"
Alyssa stole a glance from medlab two. It might just be his general demeanor, but she'd swear Walker was flirting with her boss.
"That's a nice offer Lieutenant. I think I could make my way to 10 Forward for a bite." What was she doing? Beverly marveled at herself. Well, who said she couldn't have lunch with a handsome man?
"Great. And call me Jack, please."
Crusher's face fell. "I don't think so Lieutenant. But you can call me Beverly."
Walker appeared perplexed, but he seemed to have made some progress, so he didn't press his luck. Even the largest iceberg could melt eventually. And he was a patient man. He strode out, Crusher silent at his side.
They sat quietly at a table near the far window in 10 Forward.
Walker plunged in. "You seem awful quiet for midday. Penny for your thoughts?"
Crusher's head shot up and she gazed at him sideways, a bemused look on her face. "Your roots are showing, Lieutenant."
He passed a hand through his dark thick hair and smiled, feigning embarrassment. "I thought I'd taken care of that."
"Where did you learn that expression?"
"My grandma. She had a way with the turn of a phrase."
"Well then, you can pay me later. To be honest Lieutenant, I was thinking of my late husband. His name was Jack as well." She had no idea why she was being so straightforward, but his manner seemed to invite candor.
Walker was at a loss, but passed the comment unruffled. "Well, I'm sure he was a fine man. How long has he been gone?"
"Just about twenty years. Every once in a while I still miss him, though." 'Especially like now, when I feel alone in the universe,' she thought.
"Well, I hear that. My Caroline has been gone 10 years now."
Suddenly he had Crusher's full attention. He made little drama of it, and there was no self-pity about him. Just the empathetic mood of a fellow widow. Instinctively, Crusher placed her hand on his across the table. "I'm sorry, Walker." His last name seemed to serve as well as his first, and she just couldn't bring herself to call him Jack.
Now he'd made a connection. He didn't move his hand from hers. It was remarkably soft. At that moment, the doors parted to admit Captain Picard and Commander Riker. They noticed Crusher and Walker, and Beverly stiffened. For a moment he thought she'd retract her hand, but instead she grasped his more firmly and smiled warmly, gazing directly into his eyes.
"Did you have children with Caroline?"
"No, no, but we had wanted to. You?"
Crusher finally sat back in her chair, and stared at Picard. Her eyes instantly traveled a million light years away. "I have a son, Wesley. He was at the Academy, but left to study independently." It was the briefest explanation to give.
Walker followed her gaze to Picard and thought back to Crusher's sudden intimacy with him at the Captain's appearance. He immediately put all the pieces together. Well, he could play along. He might start off as a pawn between the sparring partners, but that was not where he intended to end up.
"Well, if he's anything like you, I bet he's a spitfire." He grinned wickedly.
Crusher smiled back, but still did not seem fully in the present. "Actually, he favors his father."
Walked grimaced inside. This one was tough. Softening his tone, he leaned forward. "I'd like to hear more about them both."
"Well then, some night we can get together and reminisce." Crusher rose, gave him a small smile, patted his shoulder and walked out, breezing silently past Picard and Riker.
One small step, he thought. At least she'd left the door open.
*********
Picard had silently observed the entire exchange, his face growing ever more stern. Riker knew better than to interrupt his quietude. As Picard watched, his thoughts drifted, unbidden....
Beverly leaned forward, her eyes dancing in the candlelight. "You're far away Jean-Luc. Where are you?" Picard sat across from her at the lakeside table, wine glass in hand, reclined, legs crossed. "I was just thinking, Beverly, about our first year on the Enterprise."
"Oh really?" She chuckled. "Anything specific?"
"Do you remember our unfortunate interlude with the Dixon Hill program on the holodeck?"
"How could I forget? I love Data, but he can be dense." Her mouth was curved into an evil grin, and she pointed her finger. "As can you Jean-Luc. I thought you were going to invite the entire ship to come along."
Picard feigned innocence. "I was on a mission of exploration, Beverly. I thought you were as well."
"Don't play coy with me Jean-Luc. You were looking to explore more than the holodeck." All joviality was set aside, and her face became earnest and intense.
Jean-Luc returned her stare. Again, he was suddenly very uncomfortable. "There was, something there between us, from the start, wasn't there?"
"Are you still talking about our first year on the Enterprise, Jean-Luc?"
His eyebrows arched. "Of course, Beverly."
"There was an initial attraction. You're a very compelling man."
"You flatter me, Doctor."
"Not at all."
"Beverly." He rose suddenly. "Walk with me."
She pushed her chair back and rose demurely, taking his arm. They strolled down to the lake. The mood altered, they were once again silent. Upon reaching a secluded fork in the path, Picard stopped. Beverly gazed at him intently. He took her hands in his. Their eyes were locked.
"Beverly."
"Jean-Luc."
Decades stood between them. Inches apart, they seemed repelled like oppositely polarized magnets. The moon was high overhead, and a breeze sighed through the trees. Strains of music barely made their way from the restaurant on the distant shore.
"This seems a bit silly, doesn't it?" Her mouth twitched, but her eyes never left his. "Jean-Luc, I'm scared to death." Her breath hitched in her chest and her heat beat in her throat. "I've become more comfortable with you than anyone else, and here I am tongue-tied and paralyzed."
"Indeed. I find myself quite at a loss." His voice was barely above a whisper. His hand came up to graze her jaw. Summoning all the will he had in him, he slowly leaned forward.
**********
"Sir? We've got to get back to the bridge. Sir?" Riker hated to interrupt the Captain - he was deep in thought. He laid his hand gently on his shoulder.
Picard sat up suddenly, his eyes slowly focusing on his First Officer. "Yes, of course Number One." He stood absently and walked out of the lounge. Riker shook his head and followed. It didn't take an empath to know where Picard's thoughts had strayed.
**********
"T'par to M'dar. Enterprise will be in position in two weeks. I await the signal."
**********
Beverly returned to sickbay, but would be lost in thought for the rest of the day. Luckily, there were relatively few injuries, as most of the crew was engaged in preparation drills, her own medical staff included. She would poke her head out of her office from time to time, only to find them diligently at their tasks. She smiled proudly inside and out. She had a great team. She'd hate to leave them, but she was unwilling to continue on in this hellish state of limbo.
Sighing, she plunked into her chair and spun toward her office wall. Being at the heart of the ship, she'd grown tired of staring at the grey bunker. For her birthday last year, Picard had asked Geordi to install a holographic projector in the wall that displayed the live view from the observation lounge. Beverly found it relaxing, and had spent hours staring out vacantly, as she did now....
Before she knew it, she was kissing Picard. Not as his friend, not kissing his double, but Jean-Luc Picard. It was sweet, gentle, firm, and full of promise. Beverly still felt awkward but she could see that feeling melting away quickly and in the very near future, to be replaced by another sensation entirely. Suddenly she regretted every second she'd delayed this moment. It felt a bit like setting foot back in your childhood home after a long absence. There was a feeling of displacement, of seeing the familiar differently, but accompanied by a profound sense of security.
She could smell the night air, sense the coolness coming off the lake, feel the moonlight on her skin. Every inch of her was alive, and every second that passed seemed endless and perfect. They both breathed in at the same time and parted.
"That was wonderful, Jean-Luc." Beverly glowed. The back of Picard's hand drew down her jaw and neck.
"Thank you Beverly. I feel I've been waiting a long time for that."
Her eyes searched his and were not disappointed by what they found. Their journey from here would still be long. She could sense that neither was ready for a quick transition. But she already anticipated every moment of the courtship.
Picard turned and they walked on, back toward the restaurant, past, and finally out of the village. Now hand in hand, they stopped in front of the lodge.
"Jean-Luc, I don't think I can say goodnight without another kiss."
He smiled, ear to ear. "I was just thinking the same thing."
The second kiss was as blissful as the first, and as it lingered, became more insistent. Beverly felt her inhibitions melting and abruptly pulled back. "Well. Perhaps I should be going."
"Yes. Well." His voice rumbled in his chest. He stepped away. "Before we part, Beverly, I must ask. What happens in the morning?"
Beverly came out of her reverie and snapped around in her chair. What happens in the morning indeed. What a fool she had been. There was too much between them. Too much of the past, too much Starfleet, too much invested in the relationship itself. She had wakened the next day, only to find that Picard was already back on the ship, no breakfast, not a word. From that point, her life had only deteriorated. And after the dizzying heights of the night before, there was a long way to fall.
*********
And of course, Paramount = Q = omnipotent = only fun, no profit.
**********
Sabotage II Chapter One
**********
Shoulder to shoulder, the two fugitives made their way quickly and cautiously through the Starfleet detention center. T'shar glanced at the path behind compulsively. It was 'night' in the center, but that would not prevent unexpected encounters. Her companion had aptly disabled the section's alarms, but it was simply a matter of minutes before the tampering became evident. Now passing through the entry area, T'shar glanced through the windows to the twin moons illuminating the hallway. A few more steps and she would be free.
Almost too easily, they reached the beam-up coordinates. For an instant the rescue ship de-cloaked. Putting on a good show for Starfleet, they lingered seconds more before re-cloaking and jumping to warp. By the time the pursuit ships were alerted, their distinct M'dar ion trail was already growing cold.
**********
The short paragraph briefly piqued Picard's interest as he scanned the weekly Starfleet briefing. That T'shar had escaped was disturbing, but not alarming. The Federation had quickly determined the origin of the alien ship remnants the Enterprise had deposited a month or so earlier, that of a reclusive and almost unheard of Terran resettlement colony, the M'dar. In a remote section of the quadrant, little was known or thought of the small band of people occupying a small M-class planet far from the neutral zone or other critical sectors. Starfleet's interests had become increasing strategic, and less scientific in the past years. Picard felt strong misgivings at this turn, but also saw the necessity for increased wariness. The Romulans and Cardassians grew increasingly bold, and there were rumors coming from deep space of a new menace identified as 'the Dominion.' Brief contact with M'dar leaders had assured investigators that T'shar had been a rogue mercenary exiled by the planet's governing council for unscrupulous activities on the homeworld.
What was alarming about the escape was the fact that it had been an M'dar ship that executed the affair. Picard bristled. He knew first hand of T'shar's treachery. It was not impossible that she'd had more than one ship under her command. But it was also possible that the M'dar leaders had mislead Starfleet - and that T'shar was an operative, not an outlaw.
He filed the information away in the back of his mind, and turned his attention to the ship's current business. The Enterprise had spent a week in space dock recuperating from their first run-in with the M'dar, and after that had been assigned to diffuse a diplomatic and medical crisis on the twin planets of Cambria IV and V. While the mission had ended successfully weeks later, the drain on the command and medical staff had been immense. They had docked again at Starbase 202, this time to receive another wave of new personnel. For many reasons, it was with heavy heart that Picard reviewed the list of transfers. It was only through her pride and obstinance that Beverly Crusher's name was not on it.
**********
"Welcome back, Captain T'shar." Chancellor H'rar clapped a hand to the woman's shoulder and turned to walk with her down the hall of the M'dar command center. "The new plans are proceeding on schedule, and we need you at the helm of the Alpha attack ship."
"Well then, Chancellor, it's good to be home. I'm glad that the failure of the initial mission has not slowed us in reaching our ultimate goals." Her pride still stung from her capture.
H'rar's brow lowered, but his countenance remained staid. "Luckily, T'shar, the M'dar have never been a people to launch Plan A without having first developed a functional Plan B - and a blueprint for C."
T'shar grinned wickedly, and stopped to face the imposing Chancellor, hands behind her back and her chest swelling with pride. "Captain T'shar reporting for duty sir! I have every confidence in our ability to succeed with the mission." With that she turned smartly on her heel, and headed off to inspect her new battle cruiser.
H'rar's brow lifted as he continued on to his office. Indeed, the M'dar was already half-way prepared to launch their next offensive, which would prove to be more than damaging to Starfleet. Having learned well from their newest allies, the Cardassians, H'rar pondered how emotionally and mentally crippling an enemy could be almost as effective as crippling their actual fleet. A combination of the two, he hoped, would result in ultimate demise. While he personally detested the Cardassians, they had paid well for the secrets of Hepa III. And when the time came, they would provide the strategic advantage to bring Starfleet, and the Federation, to its knees.
**********
"Deanna, I don't want to hear it!" Beverly Crusher leveled an intense gaze at the counselor as she bustled through her cabin, changing out of her uniform and into her workout clothes. She was dialed up to 10, and there was only one way to get back down - exhaustion. She'd booked the holodeck for an entire hour of Klingon battle simulations. After that, she might head to the ship's gym to lift and stretch, before returning to her quarters with just enough energy to fall into bed, and hopefully peaceful slumber.
"Beverly, you need to confront the Captain and arrive at a resolution. Professionally, you will not be able to continue this way. I'm not even going to get into how you feel about the situation personally."
A high flush appeared on the Doctor's cheeks. "Forget it! There's no resolution to be had! Picard questioned my judgement, my authority, and my medicine!" Beverly waved her hand to illustrate the point. "I'm not even sure if this can be repaired professionally. And it's wise of you to skirt the personal - because for that there is no hope." She emphatically slammed the lid of the clothing recycler and turned to Troi. With a resigned sigh, and a deep sadness in her eyes, she continued. "Honestly, Deanna, I don't even know why I'm still on this ship."
"Beverly, you're here because we're your family." Troi walked over and laid a hand on her arm. Squeezing gently, she looked up without fear into Crusher's icy stare. "And Will would win way too much at poker."
Beverly was unmoved, but not untouched by her friend's words. They were a family, and the thought of leaving them behind made her stomach clench. On the other hand, thoughts of Jean-Luc Picard made her spitting mad and slightly ill. She was unsure whether she'd be able to reconcile the two emotions. She smiled hesitantly, tersely, and it did not reach her eyes. The look was familiar to Troi. It basically said, "I hear you, but my mind's made up."
Deanna felt Crusher's uncertainty, and was more than a little convinced that even her diplomatic skills would not be enough to mend this rift. Beverly had been stubborn, and Picard unrelenting. Both had been a little in the wrong. Add to that the fear and rejection each felt, and Troi thought that perhaps she'd have better luck negotiating a peace treaty between the Romulans and the Klingons.
**********
As Beverly panted and dodged through her workout, she reflected on the past month. It was not so much the events that plagued her, but the subsequent malaise they'd inflicted on her life. It was almost impossible to account for the space Jean-Luc had filled in her day. He'd been friend, confidant, mentor, and.... it was the intangible that she missed the most. For more than seven years, some previously invisible, yet large part of her psyche had been occupied and buoyed by hope - by the prospect of something *more* with Jean-Luc. It was now all replaced by melancholy. Her routine seemed empty, her activities two-dimensional. She'd lost the spark, and that was no way to live. One way or the other, she needed to move on.
**********
Riker carefully and surreptitiously observed his Captain. Picard sat rigid, a stern look plastered to his face. There were no secrets on a ship like the Enterprise, and the mood on board was profoundly affected by its senior staff. There was not one ensign who didn't feel the tension emanating from the bridge, and not one patient that passed through sickbay who didn't miss the previously compassionate and jovial bedside manner of Doctor Crusher. The Captain and the First Lady were at war - and the prime casualty was the morale of the entire crew. Riker was responsible for the crew's disposition, and the situation could not be brooked. A solution would be found, or, he feared, someone would need to leave.
Exhaling, Riker stood, and nodded to Picard. "Sir, with your permission, I'll be greeting the newest transport of personnel. Our new Chief of Security is scheduled to arrive with them."
Picard dismissively waved Will on, his attention never wavering from the padd he'd been studying. "Yes Will. Please have him report to the bridge when he's settled in."
Will straightened his tunic and headed to the lift. Things definitely needed to change.
He arrived in the transporter room as the shimmering blue columns coalesced into beings. Along with Worf's replacement were two new medical staff, and two new science officers. Riker stepped forward to greet the new Chief, as representatives from other departments greeted the remaining personnel. "Lieutenant Walker, welcome to the Enterprise. I'm First Officer William T. Riker." He grasped the man's hand, and was surprised, but not shocked, by the rock-hard, but gentle grip. 'Heartbreaker' was about the only word he could muster for the man, who reminded him of himself - without the soft edges.
Jack Walker smiled warmly and stepped from the transporter pad. His voice was resonant, and accented. Riker guessed the southeast of the North American continent on Earth. "Glad to be here sir. I understand I have some big shoes to fill."
Grinning, Riker looked down. "Well, by the looks of it, you won't have trouble in that department. Let's get you some quarters." Will felt at ease with Walker, and hoped the Captain would to. They made their way out of the room and toward the lift.
"I hear an accent Lieutenant. You're from Earth?"
"Yes sir." Walker was tall, and his stride was long and easy. He and Riker were on the lift momentarily. "My family has lived for six centuries in the 'formerly proud state of North Carolina,' as my great grandma liked to recount while sipping a mint julep. The accent doesn't wear off easy."
Riker smiled. If Walker had been wearing a hat, Will swore he would have tipped it at him.
The lift stopped, and they arrived at Walker's quarters. Stepping in, he whistled. "This'll be just fine, Commander. They weren't kiddin' about these galaxy class starships. Now what time should I report to the bridge?"
"The Captain has requested that you report as soon as you're settled in. The alpha shift is over in a few minutes. Captain Picard will likely be in his ready room, and you can find him there."
"All right then. I'll be by in just a bit. Thank you, Commander Riker."
Riker's blue eyes twinkled. "Absolutely Lieutenant. See you at the staff meeting in the morning. And please call if you need assistance." Will made his way directly out, and back to the bridge. This would make Deanna's day.
**********
"T'par to M'dar command. I am in position onboard the Enterprise. I await the signal."
H'rar reviewed the text messages from all operatives. On the M'dar homeworld, the armada was nearly ready for launch. Five battle cruisers, manned with engineered soldiers, would strike five Starfleet ships synchronously. They would all even be at the same coordinates, like shooting fish in a barrel. All infiltrators were in place, ready to sabotage the target ship's defense systems at the critical time. They were suicide missions, but the volunteer's families were rewarded generously. H'rar had little doubt the targets would be in the right locations. Already, false information had been circulated to Starfleet intelligence. With the Cardassian's aid, phase one of the M'dar attack would pave the way for the next step of the plan. He congratulated himself on the final stroke of genius. The sabotage onboard the decimated ships would be detected - and Starfleet would be too busy trying to find the M'dar to even see the next hit coming.
**********
Picard looked up as the chime sounded to his ready room. Each time this happened, for a fleeting moment he hoped it would be Beverly. Then, that hope would be replaced by doubt and anger. His face fell into a stern mask. "Come."
Jack Walker strode in, calm and confident. "Lieutenant Jack Walker, reporting for duty sir."
Picard rose, tugged at his uniform, and walked around his desk. Extending his arm, he greeted Walker. "Good to have you onboard. I trust that you have met Commander Riker?"
Picard returned to his desk and motioned for the man to sit. Walker nodded and sat opposite. "Yes sir. I look forward to working with him."
The Captain took in his new Security Chief. He was tall and broad. His posture was straight but relaxed, and he seemed to have an easy manner about him. His record was strong, and Picard was optimistic about his potential performance on the Enterprise. The two men spoke for a while. Satisfied, Picard rose. "Morning staff briefings are at 0800 hours. After that, I expect you'll want to brief your department and begin working on personnel assignments. Commander Riker can assist you. Until then, please make yourself at home."
Walker stood and offered his hand again. The men shook, the Lieutenant's gaze never leaving the Captain's. He turned gracefully and left. On his way through the bridge, he again inclined his head at Riker, who returned the gesture. Deanna's eyes simply followed the man up the ramp and into the lift.
Will leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, "See what I mean?"
Deanna gave no audible reply, only nodded.
*********
Beverly Crusher lay in bed, exhausted. Sleep however, still would not come. Instead, her thoughts went to where they always did of late. Back to her dinner with Jean-Luc a month ago at Starbase 202. It had all started out so well.
"Beverly, you are beautiful."
The unexpected compliment caught her off guard, and she blushed. Taking Jean Luc's arm as she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, the two made their way out of the lodge and toward the nearby village. Picard had made reservations at an intimate and well-reviewed local restaurant.
It took her a minute to gather her resolve, and she finally responded. "Thank you Jean-Luc - you look quite handsome yourself." She smiled, her eyes alight with mischief. The path they walked was lit by gas lanterns, and every so often they would pass another couple returning from the village and nod. The night was warm, as was the breeze. Both Crusher and Picard were enraptured by the indigo sky and twinkling stars. And, though neither would admit, by each other.
Beverly's hair was half-pulled up, neatly secured in a tortoise brown clip, the rest cascading down her back. She had let it grow longer recently, and let it revert back to a somewhat darker auburn hue that complimented and warmed her complexion. It fell in soft waves to her shoulder blades. Over plain-front, well-cut trousers, she wore a matching fitted and very old- fashioned dark chocolate brown ¾ length sleeve knit top, with a v-neck that began at a turned-down collar. At the last minute she'd put on a delicate strand of pearls, and matching earrings. Picard could not wait to sit opposite her so he could gaze more openly. He had dressed well for the evening, and was equally stunning. In black slacks and a lightweight charcoal sweater that drew attention to his hazel eyes, his well-toned frame cut quite a line. Together they were striking.
They arrived and were escorted to a table with an expansive view of the lake. It was both serene and hypnotic as the lanterns along the edge played on the water's surface. Surrounded on all other sides by towering pine trees, the ambience was more than romantic. Beverly's heart beat contentedly as they reclined in their chairs, wine already in hand.
Slowly, she locked eyes with Picard and leaned forward She took up his hand from the table. "Penny," she intoned softly.
*********
Picard was lost in thought when the terminal in his quarters beeped loudly. He had been thinking of Beverly again, and that damned dinner. Shaking the swirling fog from his mind, he rose and touched the screen. Immediately Admiral Necheyev's face appeared.
"What can I do for you, Admiral?"
"Captain Picard. Good evening. I have new orders for the Enterprise." Her approach was always direct. "You will depart immediately from Starbase to the Cardassian neutral zone. Starfleet intelligence indicates a build-up of cloaked activity in several sectors there. We are sending five ships out to investigate the area. You will observe for a week, rendezvous with the other ships, compare notes, and report back. You will receive exact coordinates shortly."
"Fine, Admiral." Picard was in fact, far from pleased with the new assignment. He detested dealing with anything involving Cardassians. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"
"As a matter of fact, we have reason to believe this might have something to do with the M'dar. Though we are unsure exactly what."
The hair at the base of Picard's neck bristled. He was not surprised.
"Very well Admiral. I await further instruction. Picard out."
Necheyev bent forward and terminated the transmission. Picard's screen was filled with blue and white.
Brows raised and exhaling loudly, Picard turned from the desk and toward the bedroom. He was done for the day. He had little to look forward to in the morning. Breakfasts with Beverly were a thing of the past.
**********
Picard waited for the rest of the staff to finish assembling to begin the morning briefing. All were punctual except Dr. Crusher, who was, as usual, running behind. Her tardiness had been exaggerated of late. She no longer sat at the Captain's right hand, but instead at the end of the table next to Geordi. He turned to begin despite her absence when she breezed in and took her seat without a word.
"Good of you to join us, Doctor Crusher. Is there a reason we cannot expect you to be on time?"
The senior staff shifted uncomfortably. While these scenes were always painful, they were becoming routine. Walker looked surprised, and reminded himself to be early to his next meeting with the CO. Clearly there was some back story he'd missed. By all accounts he'd gotten, these two were typically attached at the hip.
"No Captain, no reason that might not be excused by courtesy. Do you feel my behavior worthy of taking more of the staff's time to correct?" Her gaze was even and challenging. She might as well have walked over and slapped him with a glove.
Now Walker knew something was up. This woman was a long cool drink of water to look at - but apparently there was more than met the eye. Picard didn't appear a bit phased, however.
"The staff's time, Doctor, is my point exactly. We will not discuss this further here. However, you have made a habit of tardiness, and I'm afraid it's simply not acceptable." Picard stared back at Crusher, just as evenly, his voice low and monotone. "Please see me in my ready room at the conclusion of this meeting." Picard wasn't sure where the last sentence came from. He was desperate for a détente, but had absolutely no idea what to say to Beverly. The situation, however, had gotten out of hand.
For her part, Crusher was fuming. Deanna's mental facilities were in full force blocking out the two ends of the conference table. She dared not relax for a moment.
Not to be outdone, and incensed at the public chastising from Picard, she responded casually, "I'm afraid I have urgent matters to attend in sickbay this morning, Captain. Perhaps another time." Her challenge to his authority was now brazen. No one believed he would call her bluff. Riker surveyed the table to find the rest of the staff suddenly fascinated by its reflective surface. Clearly this needed to end, now. He cleared his throat.
Jean-Luc and Beverly finally ended their stalemate. Neither wanted to be the first to look down, but Picard recognized that the briefing had to continue. At Will's cue he began reciting Necheyev's orders. At the conclusion he turned to Walker, "Lieutenant, we will be very close to the neutral zone. I need tactical and security ready at all times. We arrive at the target coordinates in one week. Do you feel you will be up to speed by that time?"
Walker did not seem at all apprehensive. "Absolutely Captain. I've been studying the Enterprise extensively, and the crew I've met so far seem more than capable. If it's necessary, we'll give 'em a good fight." Crusher, Troi, and even the rest of the staff seemed charmed by his delivery.
Picard gave a smile that seemed more like a grimace and stood, tugging his uniform smartly. "Very good Mr. Walker. If there's nothing more, dismissed." He looked to all officers save Beverly, turned, and walked onto the bridge. All followed but Walker and Crusher.
He'd met the rest of the staff in 10 Forward the previous evening. He approached the Doctor with trepidation but an open smile. Extending a hand, he cleared his throat and caught her attention. Women usually paused when they first met Jack Walker, but Crusher hadn't so much as glanced his way. "Dr. Crusher, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you yet."
She simply turned and replied, "No, you haven't." The look he received about froze his hand in mid-air. Undeterred, he kept his hand out. She was testing him. One uncomfortable second later, she responded with a firm grip.
"All new reporting personnel are required to have a physical upon boarding the ship. I can schedule yours for today. What time are you available?"
Right to business, then. "Well, I've got to speak to my security crew right now, but I can stop by mid-morning." He thought he'd give her some time to cool off.
Her eyes softened, almost imperceptibly. "Very good. Report to Nurse Powell."
"Sure Doctor. See you then." He grinned again openly, and turned from her. Crusher found herself wishing she hadn't been so harsh. Jack Walker wasn't hard to look at, that was for sure. He was tall, tanned, and, though she hated to use the word, chiseled. His appearance was youthful, but not boyish. She estimated him to be between 35 and 40. His dark hair was close cropped but well styled. His eyes were warm and deep brown, his features classically handsome. And, if Crusher remembered her youth correctly, he had what she recalled as an intoxicating 'southern drawl.'
Dismissing the thought she reached sickbay, where contrary to what she'd told the Captain, she had relatively little to do.
"Alyssa, add Lieutenant Walker to the schedule for today. He'll be in later this morning for a physical. I'll be in my office."
"Aye sir." Powell favored her with a skeptical glance. Crusher had been in an abysmal mood lately, and it made sickbay intolerable. Everyone knew the problem and unfortunately no one was in a position to solve it. Powell could practically see her credits in the betting pool going down the drain.
**********
Walker's security briefing went well, and he was indeed thoroughly versed on the Enterprise's tactical specs. He seemed to have no problem picking up his duties as Chief of Security. At 1200 hours he stepped off the bridge and onto the lift for sickbay. On the way down he endeavored to step into his most bewitching personality. He had a feeling he'd need it.
The mood when he arrived was no less tense than that on the bridge. Walker had the feeling he'd arrived on the wrong ship at the wrong time. But there hadn't been many women he couldn't charm. He looked at this as a challenge.
"You must be Lieutenant Walker." A petit dark haired woman smiled up at him.
"That's right ma'am. I'm here to see Doctor Crusher for my physical."
"I'll just get her. Take off your uniform jacket and have a seat on the main biobed."
"Whatever you say Lieutenant. It's your sickbay."
Alyssa smiled to herself as she made her way to Crusher's office. Jack Walker would be a great addition to the ship....
Moments later Crusher appeared from her office, lab coat on and tricorder in hand. Glancing up, her morning seemed just a little brighter. Jack Walker looked built in his jacket, and there was nothing to disappoint underneath. The good part of being a Doctor - some physicals were more fun than others.
"Well Lieutenant, you're punctual."
"It seems the Captain doesn't take well to being late."
Her brow darkened. Wrong line. "Well, he runs the ship doesn't he?" Crusher began her scans. "Breathe deeply."
Walker's chest expanded impressively. "So, how long you have you been hanging around the Enterprise, Doctor?"
"Eight years now, Lieutenant."
He gave a low whistle. "That's a lifetime for Starfleet. You must like it here."
"Indeed. Nothing lasts forever, though." Her tone was resigned. "I see your last physical was a year ago. Anything to report since then?"
"Nothing interesting, Doctor. But I'm sure you'll let me know if that changes." His eyes were wide and he smiled openly. His teeth were even and white. A real charmer, thought Beverly. Coming from anyone else, the dialog would have seemed cheesy and flat. Somehow though, she found herself softening up.
"Well Lieutenant, you're in excellent health. I'll have to send your records in to be studied at the Academy." She patted him on the shoulder. "Done - you're hereby certified for duty." She managed a crooked grin that passed as a smile.
"Well, Doctor, even the healthiest of us needs to eat. Care to join me for lunch?"
Alyssa stole a glance from medlab two. It might just be his general demeanor, but she'd swear Walker was flirting with her boss.
"That's a nice offer Lieutenant. I think I could make my way to 10 Forward for a bite." What was she doing? Beverly marveled at herself. Well, who said she couldn't have lunch with a handsome man?
"Great. And call me Jack, please."
Crusher's face fell. "I don't think so Lieutenant. But you can call me Beverly."
Walker appeared perplexed, but he seemed to have made some progress, so he didn't press his luck. Even the largest iceberg could melt eventually. And he was a patient man. He strode out, Crusher silent at his side.
They sat quietly at a table near the far window in 10 Forward.
Walker plunged in. "You seem awful quiet for midday. Penny for your thoughts?"
Crusher's head shot up and she gazed at him sideways, a bemused look on her face. "Your roots are showing, Lieutenant."
He passed a hand through his dark thick hair and smiled, feigning embarrassment. "I thought I'd taken care of that."
"Where did you learn that expression?"
"My grandma. She had a way with the turn of a phrase."
"Well then, you can pay me later. To be honest Lieutenant, I was thinking of my late husband. His name was Jack as well." She had no idea why she was being so straightforward, but his manner seemed to invite candor.
Walker was at a loss, but passed the comment unruffled. "Well, I'm sure he was a fine man. How long has he been gone?"
"Just about twenty years. Every once in a while I still miss him, though." 'Especially like now, when I feel alone in the universe,' she thought.
"Well, I hear that. My Caroline has been gone 10 years now."
Suddenly he had Crusher's full attention. He made little drama of it, and there was no self-pity about him. Just the empathetic mood of a fellow widow. Instinctively, Crusher placed her hand on his across the table. "I'm sorry, Walker." His last name seemed to serve as well as his first, and she just couldn't bring herself to call him Jack.
Now he'd made a connection. He didn't move his hand from hers. It was remarkably soft. At that moment, the doors parted to admit Captain Picard and Commander Riker. They noticed Crusher and Walker, and Beverly stiffened. For a moment he thought she'd retract her hand, but instead she grasped his more firmly and smiled warmly, gazing directly into his eyes.
"Did you have children with Caroline?"
"No, no, but we had wanted to. You?"
Crusher finally sat back in her chair, and stared at Picard. Her eyes instantly traveled a million light years away. "I have a son, Wesley. He was at the Academy, but left to study independently." It was the briefest explanation to give.
Walker followed her gaze to Picard and thought back to Crusher's sudden intimacy with him at the Captain's appearance. He immediately put all the pieces together. Well, he could play along. He might start off as a pawn between the sparring partners, but that was not where he intended to end up.
"Well, if he's anything like you, I bet he's a spitfire." He grinned wickedly.
Crusher smiled back, but still did not seem fully in the present. "Actually, he favors his father."
Walked grimaced inside. This one was tough. Softening his tone, he leaned forward. "I'd like to hear more about them both."
"Well then, some night we can get together and reminisce." Crusher rose, gave him a small smile, patted his shoulder and walked out, breezing silently past Picard and Riker.
One small step, he thought. At least she'd left the door open.
*********
Picard had silently observed the entire exchange, his face growing ever more stern. Riker knew better than to interrupt his quietude. As Picard watched, his thoughts drifted, unbidden....
Beverly leaned forward, her eyes dancing in the candlelight. "You're far away Jean-Luc. Where are you?" Picard sat across from her at the lakeside table, wine glass in hand, reclined, legs crossed. "I was just thinking, Beverly, about our first year on the Enterprise."
"Oh really?" She chuckled. "Anything specific?"
"Do you remember our unfortunate interlude with the Dixon Hill program on the holodeck?"
"How could I forget? I love Data, but he can be dense." Her mouth was curved into an evil grin, and she pointed her finger. "As can you Jean-Luc. I thought you were going to invite the entire ship to come along."
Picard feigned innocence. "I was on a mission of exploration, Beverly. I thought you were as well."
"Don't play coy with me Jean-Luc. You were looking to explore more than the holodeck." All joviality was set aside, and her face became earnest and intense.
Jean-Luc returned her stare. Again, he was suddenly very uncomfortable. "There was, something there between us, from the start, wasn't there?"
"Are you still talking about our first year on the Enterprise, Jean-Luc?"
His eyebrows arched. "Of course, Beverly."
"There was an initial attraction. You're a very compelling man."
"You flatter me, Doctor."
"Not at all."
"Beverly." He rose suddenly. "Walk with me."
She pushed her chair back and rose demurely, taking his arm. They strolled down to the lake. The mood altered, they were once again silent. Upon reaching a secluded fork in the path, Picard stopped. Beverly gazed at him intently. He took her hands in his. Their eyes were locked.
"Beverly."
"Jean-Luc."
Decades stood between them. Inches apart, they seemed repelled like oppositely polarized magnets. The moon was high overhead, and a breeze sighed through the trees. Strains of music barely made their way from the restaurant on the distant shore.
"This seems a bit silly, doesn't it?" Her mouth twitched, but her eyes never left his. "Jean-Luc, I'm scared to death." Her breath hitched in her chest and her heat beat in her throat. "I've become more comfortable with you than anyone else, and here I am tongue-tied and paralyzed."
"Indeed. I find myself quite at a loss." His voice was barely above a whisper. His hand came up to graze her jaw. Summoning all the will he had in him, he slowly leaned forward.
**********
"Sir? We've got to get back to the bridge. Sir?" Riker hated to interrupt the Captain - he was deep in thought. He laid his hand gently on his shoulder.
Picard sat up suddenly, his eyes slowly focusing on his First Officer. "Yes, of course Number One." He stood absently and walked out of the lounge. Riker shook his head and followed. It didn't take an empath to know where Picard's thoughts had strayed.
**********
"T'par to M'dar. Enterprise will be in position in two weeks. I await the signal."
**********
Beverly returned to sickbay, but would be lost in thought for the rest of the day. Luckily, there were relatively few injuries, as most of the crew was engaged in preparation drills, her own medical staff included. She would poke her head out of her office from time to time, only to find them diligently at their tasks. She smiled proudly inside and out. She had a great team. She'd hate to leave them, but she was unwilling to continue on in this hellish state of limbo.
Sighing, she plunked into her chair and spun toward her office wall. Being at the heart of the ship, she'd grown tired of staring at the grey bunker. For her birthday last year, Picard had asked Geordi to install a holographic projector in the wall that displayed the live view from the observation lounge. Beverly found it relaxing, and had spent hours staring out vacantly, as she did now....
Before she knew it, she was kissing Picard. Not as his friend, not kissing his double, but Jean-Luc Picard. It was sweet, gentle, firm, and full of promise. Beverly still felt awkward but she could see that feeling melting away quickly and in the very near future, to be replaced by another sensation entirely. Suddenly she regretted every second she'd delayed this moment. It felt a bit like setting foot back in your childhood home after a long absence. There was a feeling of displacement, of seeing the familiar differently, but accompanied by a profound sense of security.
She could smell the night air, sense the coolness coming off the lake, feel the moonlight on her skin. Every inch of her was alive, and every second that passed seemed endless and perfect. They both breathed in at the same time and parted.
"That was wonderful, Jean-Luc." Beverly glowed. The back of Picard's hand drew down her jaw and neck.
"Thank you Beverly. I feel I've been waiting a long time for that."
Her eyes searched his and were not disappointed by what they found. Their journey from here would still be long. She could sense that neither was ready for a quick transition. But she already anticipated every moment of the courtship.
Picard turned and they walked on, back toward the restaurant, past, and finally out of the village. Now hand in hand, they stopped in front of the lodge.
"Jean-Luc, I don't think I can say goodnight without another kiss."
He smiled, ear to ear. "I was just thinking the same thing."
The second kiss was as blissful as the first, and as it lingered, became more insistent. Beverly felt her inhibitions melting and abruptly pulled back. "Well. Perhaps I should be going."
"Yes. Well." His voice rumbled in his chest. He stepped away. "Before we part, Beverly, I must ask. What happens in the morning?"
Beverly came out of her reverie and snapped around in her chair. What happens in the morning indeed. What a fool she had been. There was too much between them. Too much of the past, too much Starfleet, too much invested in the relationship itself. She had wakened the next day, only to find that Picard was already back on the ship, no breakfast, not a word. From that point, her life had only deteriorated. And after the dizzying heights of the night before, there was a long way to fall.
*********