Chapter II
"There is significant superficial damage to the secondary hull, as well as micro-hull breaches on decks eighteen through twenty-two. Repair teams have been able to seal most of them, however, and we expect to have warp drive up to warp six in less than two hours."
"Shields and weapon systems?" Data cocked his head to the side.
Barclay smiled. "We made them a priority, sir, and we expect to have full tactical system back online in less than fifteen minutes. We'll be doing a level-4 diagnostic on phaser capacitor systems, however, to make sure they haven't overloaded. That should be done before the warp drive is ready."
"Doctor Crusher, what is the status of the casualties?"
"Fourteen were killed, but the remaining twenty-seven wounded should expect to make a full recovery – most of them will be on their feet within hours, Captain." Beverly paused, "I also regret to inform you that Colonel Wellesley died at 1427 hours, from massive internal bleeding and synaptic degradation."
The room took a moment to look appropriately sombre, and then continued the briefing. No one missed the Colonel terribly, but he was still a respected member of the MACO contingent. Picard made a mental note to speak to some of them about it soon.
The briefing went on for another fifteen minutes, with each department head making his or her report on the readiness of the ship, should they run into more M'loi. Dismissing the senior staff, Data asked that Picard remain behind.
"We have received information from Starfleet command, Admiral. A recent engagement with the M'loi in the Utari system was fought. Elements of the 132nd fleet managed to push back the M'loi attacking the shipyards around Utari VII, however the starships Sovereign, Ticonderoga, Inviolate, T'Pol, and Hood were lost in action with all hands."
Picard had received that report as well, and the hurt from losing so many of his friends was still fresh. He knew Captain Saffi Larsen from he served as an adviser to Sovereign's new captain after the tragic death of Captain Robert Wright of the Dauntless. Starfleet had just lost on of its most promising young captains.
"Yes, Data, I read those same reports." Rachel Yerla called up the report on the PADD she was carrying to reference.
"The loss of those ships has severely destabilised that front of the war. We are still scheduled to rendezvous back on Earth in a weeks time, but in light of the changing situation..."
"You believe we should head to the Utari system, Data?"
"Yes, Admiral, I do. If past experiences have shown anything, it is that the M'loi are prone to counter attack when they suffer a setback, and the fleet currently stationed in the Utari system has been severely depleted."
Picard considered this for a moment. Data was certainly right in his analysis of the M'loi outlook on war, and with the loss of five starships, three of them Galaxy-class, the defence of that system would be compromised.
The Admiral nodded slowly. "I would tend to agree with you, Captain. Set course for the Utari system as soon as we have warp capabilities. I am going to go speak with the MACOs."
"Aye, Admiral."
The MACOs on board were in a state of controlled confusion, the command structure being suddenly altered from the top down. Major Nathan Harris was now in command of their battalion, and that meant that one of the captains needed to be given his old job, which mean one of the lieutenants needed to take the captain's job, and so on. Outside one of the cargo bays, which had been converted to a temporary barracks for their use, the guards snapped to attention when the Admiral approached, two very pretty young ladies in tow.
"At ease, uh, corporal." Picard was still not well versed in MACO ranks and command structure. "Please, open the door."
Snapping off a smart salute, the young man turned to the control panel and opened the hatch, saluting smartly for a second time as the Admiral passed under the arch.
Men and women hurried around, training, or carrying out the hundreds of different tasks required to make twelve hundred people an efficient body of soldiers. A tall, spare man walked up to him. His jawline and chin were strong, and his eyes keenly bright.
"Admiral, this is an unexpected honour. If we had know you were coming, we could have-"
"I have no issue seeing people hard at work, Major. Actually, I came down to see how all of you were coping..."
The Major paused. "Well enough, sir. This is not the first time our battalion has lost its commander. During the Dominion War, we were stationed on Betazed during its fall."
Picard nodded, and remembered those weeks of uncertainty. The Dominion had taken one of the central planets of the Federation, and put itself in striking distance of Vulcan, Tellar, and Earth.
"Familiarity does not breed immunity, Major. I know that Colonel Wellesley was a respected member of the MACO organization. I know that you must be feeling a little...overwhelmed by the sudden change in command."
The major nodded slowly, "many in this regiment, myself included, served with Colonel Wellesley for more than a decade. We are all saddened by his loss. However, I can assure you, sir, that our resolve remains."
"I never doubted that for a moment, Major."
Continuing to walk around with Major Harris, Picard took an instant liking to the man. Everywhere they walked in the cargo bay, the Major was greeted with smiles and respect, a sure sign of a good and honest officer. Picard felt it proper to inform Major Harris of the situation, and the Major's face fell.
"What is the problem, Major?"
"Well, sir...if we went back to Earth, MACO Administration would assign a new Colonel to the regiment. As it stands, they won't be able to get one out here..."
"Leaving you in command, Major. Is there a problem?"
"Sir, I don't believe I'm ready to lead this battalion." His face turned scarlet.
Picard liked him all the more for it. He remembered his own promotion, after his captain on the Stargazer had been killed, and the first officer wounded. I wasn't ready then, either.
"Major, there are two types of command officers. The first were born to lead, ready from the moment they put on a uniform. Sometimes they become great commanders and generals, carving a name for themselves in the stone of history. More often than not, however, they get themselves and a lot of other people killed, being only to eager to make the big calls. The second group are those who have had command thrust upon them, either in times of need or after a tragedy. They think every action through, and put the lives of those under their command ahead of their own vainglory. There is no shame in being in the second group, Major. If more people were, I doubt wars would continue."
The Major thought silently, finally asking the obvious question.
"And you, sir? Which group do you fall into?"
Picard laughed darkly. "I'll be able to tell you that when I find out my manner of death, Major."
"Admiral, the Doctor asked me to remind you that you have a dinner engagement with her this evening at 1900 hours, and that it would be in Ten-Forward." Bellia was looking over his schedule.
I never had a schedule as a Captain.
"Additionally, your reports to Starfleet Command are waiting on your desk. It would be best if that were dispatched before 1800 hours," Rachel piped in.
Picard sighed loudly. These two young women were a godsend with all of these new duties he was expected to perform. They had made the transition from security to administration, and wore command red well. The Admiral could not begin to imagine what life as a flag officer would be like without them, but he was certain it would not be nearly as easy.
I remember Garret telling me that the real business of Starfleet is taken care of by the flag lieutenants. Admirals were just around to rubber stamp whatever their young officers put in front of them. I think I'm beginning to agree.
"What time is it now?"
"1722 hours, Admiral."
An even louder sigh escaped his lips, bringing a smile to Rachel and Bellia's faces. They were both extremely fond of their Admiral, and knew he hated filling out, filing, or making reports. In fact, he became quite irascible at the very mention of them.
"We've made a summary of what should be in the report, Admiral. You should be able to use it to make the full version quite simply."
He looked pleased at this turn of events, and led the way back to the Observation deck to finish what he needed to do. It took a little under half an hour to do what was necessary, and at the end of that time, he dismissed his two minders.
"Go, I can finish filing all of this. There'll be work aplenty when we finally reach the Utari system. Enjoy yourselves, and please report to my quarters at 0730 tomorrow morning. We'll need to go over command law governing ships in separate fleets. I'll have to be careful not to step on anyone's toes when we do finally reach the defence fleet."
"Aye, sir."
"Yes, Admiral. Have a good night."
Picard made it back to his quarters to get ready for his dinner tonight, and stepped into the shower. His leg was still hurting like hell as a result of the anti-rejection drugs used by both the new prosthetic limb, and his old prosthetic heart. He found himself taking longer and longer in the shower, as hot water seemed to help greatly with easing the discomfort he felt. Stepping out, he walked to his bedroom to dress, and noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Scrambling for a towel to protect his modesty, he noticed the fiery hair and self-satisfied smirk of Beverly Crusher. Sitting in one of his chairs, her legs were crossed, and her delicate fingers curled themselves in her hair, playing absent-mindedly with the flaming mane gracing her face.
"Still not ready, Jean-Luc? Tsk, tsk. Some people are so high maintenance.
Picard sneered back at her remarks, and went to his room to quickly don his clothes, a simply outfit, but comfortable.
"Some people need to put a little more effort into their appearance to match what comes naturally to others, my dear Beverly." he gallantly took her hand, and brought it to his lips. She laughed derisively, but her eyes shone, betraying her silent delight at his comment.
Taking his proffered arm, she got up, and they made their way together towards Ten-Forward.
"It'll be good to be able to sit down and relax." she craned her neck, "I feel as though we haven't seen each other in days. These medical refits are hell, Jean-Luc."
"I hear complaints from all over the ship about the refits not being easy to put in. Starfleet, however, believes that they will help the ship through this war. I guess I can take a more levelled view of it, since I don't actually have to do anything about it."
"The joys of flag rank?"
"No, the joys of having everyone only too happy to do everything for me. It's like I'm an invalid." Picard shook his head in mock sadness.
"Well, you were missing a leg, Jean-Luc." Beverly grinned mischievously at that, which she knew would elicit a cutting remark.
"Oh? And that makes me an invalid? What, then, does that make you, my dear Doctor? I seem to recall it was you who asked to break the run first on the holodeck last week after only two dozen kilometres. Invalid, indeed." Picard sniffed in derision.
Beverly laughed, and tightened her grip on his arm. "Watch out, now, Admiral. There is a small incline coming up. I'd hate to have to perform a hip replacement this evening..."
She laughed harder as she ran into the turbolift, holding her sides with the effort to maintain some semblance of dignity. She noted there was no one around, and she laughed all the more.
Jean-Luc walked into the turbolift, and put his hands on either side of her head, palms to the wall of the moving car.
"You know, Doctor, I am an Admiral, and you ought to show me more respect."
Beverly sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, and said, "respect, Admiral? And how might I show my Admiral more respect?" She reached up and brushed her fingers across his lips. She knew what she could do to him, and he knew she liked displaying her power.
He swiftly closed the distance between their lips, and they embraced in turbolift, their tongues fencing briefly before breaking apart, their closeness eliciting a quiet moan from the Doctor.
"That is a good start, Doctor. Here endeth the lesson."
"Oh, Admiral, is that how you expect all junior officers to show you respect?" She put on the most innocent face she could conjure given the flutters she was experiencing in her core.
"Hmmm, that could be an interesting standing order..."
Beverly slapped his arm a little harder than usual, but the teeth showing through her smile belied her humour.
I feel like a teenage girl, stealing kisses and making out whenever we are alone. It's very...stimulating.
Their relationship had become more and more physical over the weeks, but, much to their frustration, Deanna had counselled them both to take things slowly, given what had happened only weeks ago. It had been difficult, and more and more Beverly found herself fantasizing about Jean-Luc during the day rather than being productive. They stole as much time as they could away to be with one another, and on more than one occasion had ended up passionately kissing in the turbolift – and once in the Jeffries tubes on deck eighteen.
It hadn't happened yet, but if they carried on like that for much longer, it was inevitable that some poor young ensign or crewman would die of embarrassment, walking in on his or her CMO sticking her tongue down the throat of the great Admiral Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise. She didn't even want to imagine what Jean-Luc would think, but she was certain he'd glow as red as a painstik. But, I've got to admit, the fear of getting caught...the excitement of rushing...
She inhaled sharply as pleasurable shivers wound their way down her spine to the base of her torso, causing her to shake her head in an attempt to clear it. Now was not the time for that sort of thinking. I've got a dinner to eat.
Taking her to one of the smaller tables, the two sat down, their eyes stealing away glances of the other, meeting regularly with a warmth that was almost tangible. Ordering their dinner, they sat and talked, Beverly's hand often on Picard's, gently stroking his fingers with her own. Those around them smiled, happy to see the relationship that everyone had know to be going on for years between the two senior officers had finally been acknowledged by the two of them.
"We'll be going to the Utari system before heading back to Earth. Enterprise will help stave off the likely counter attack they are expecting. I don't know when it will hit, but if the general M'loi strategy hasn't changed, they'll come within a week."
Beverly's face fell at this, and Picard winced at the feeling that it generated in the pit of his stomach. He hated seeing anything but happiness on that most dearest of faces.
"But we shouldn't be delayed for more than a week or two at the most. We'll just be assisting the 132nd fleet until additional reinforcements can arrive."
They ate in companionable silence for some time, the only conversation between them spoken through the glances and smiles that they shared, oblivious to all that was going on around them. After an hour, they had finished their meal, and got up to leave, Beverly whispering something into Picard's ear that made him laugh softly, speaking quietly to each other as they made their way out of Ten-Forward.
Finally making it to the turbolift, Beverly turned to Jean-Luc, caressing his chin with her fingers, bringing her mouth up to his, she kissed the corner of his mouth.
"Come in for a nightcap?"
Since that fateful night aboard the Titan weeks ago, the nightcap had become a sacred tradition for them. Not a few times did they end up on the floor or a couch with less clothes than was standard issue. And then, he would stop, or she would, and they'd both go to their own quarters. She fell asleep many nights sweating, or having to take a cold shower.
"Of course."
Both of them could feel the edge to their nights, the anticipation of what could happen. This war had brought that out in most people a feeling of carpe diem, and Beverly had seen the number of people with contraceptive implants increase by over 80% in the past year. She felt frustrated by the fact that, apparently, she didn't need one. God damnit, Deanna. You've got Will. When can I have Jean-Luc? The thoughts that had brought to her mind caused her to involuntarily groan.
"Beverly? Is something the matter?"
She blushed and looked at him, no, nothing...nothing is that matter. I'm just..." her voice trailed off. A look of concern crossed his face.
"If something is the matter, we'll go to sickbay. Should I call a-"
"No, Jean-Luc, believe me. I'm just...I'm fine. I'm just a little..." her hands went to her cheeks, she was blushing madly now, and she felt as though the room had risen in temperature.
It finally clicked for him. Oh. Oh, I see. Well, now, Doctor, you might get to feel what it is like to be on the receiving end. Madly fighting a smile, he continued in his most gravelly command voice.
"No, Doctor, you don't look fine. You're flushed, your breathing is erratic, and you're beginning to sweat." He felt her neck, "your pulse is heightened as well. You need medical attention."
"No, I just, no I really don't need them..."
Making the motion to tap his combadge, he set his face in stone. The hand nearly made it to his chest before Beverly's hand shot out to grab it.
You know what? That's enough. Physician, heal thyself!
"Computer, halt the turbolift!"
She grabbed him by the wrists, and, putting them behind his head, held them against the wall of the lift.
Her lips hungrily claimed his mouth, pushing aside his lips to gain entry.
"Jean-Luc," she said breathily, pulling away slightly, "it isn't medical attention I need, believe me."
His first thought was of those moments, back on the Enterprise-D, when the polywater intoxication took hold of the crew. She had been insistent then, and Picard have very nearly given in to her in his ready room.
"Beverly, we're in a turbolift-"
"Mmhhmm? Are we? And?" Her words were punctuated by her lips on his face and neck, nibbling and sucking on the tender skin.
Oh, god. If I have to walk through the corridors with...hickeys, I don't think I'll ever be able to live that one down.
What the hell is wrong with me? Stop thinking!
He began to move against her, kissing her pale, alabaster skin, returning her needful affections, freeing his hands from behind his head, he caressed her neck, stroking the sensitive skin beneath and behind her ears, eliciting a response that only whetted his appetites.
Moaning into his mouth as his hands worked, she pressed herself into him, increasing the contact which their bodies were experiencing, sending them both into near madness. Her lips and tongue continued their exploration of his mouth and neck.
Picard could feel her hands under his shirt, pressed against his body, she was working his taught back muscles, scratching him lightly with her long nails, making him gasp in a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain. He could feel her breath quicken, matching his own. She was moving against him rhythmical, pressing him into the wall of the turbolift, moaning as his hands moved down her body, clutching at her with powerful fingers, moving her into his body with each beat, the symphony between them rising to cacophonous levels.
"Jean-Luc, I need..."
His hands wandered down lower, resting on the side of her thighs. She moved away from him to allow one hand to slip between the two of them before beginning to press into him again. She could feel his interest growing between them and each motion brought them closer together.
The abyss, from which there was only one return, opened its maw before them, the chasm of its depths beckoning feverishly to them both.
"Data to Admiral Picard, you are receiving a priority one subspace communication from Admiral Erod."
Picard was breathing heavily, in shuddering gasps. Beverly's hair was wild, the mix of sweat from each of them sticking it to the nape of Picard's neck, trailing itself across his skin as they pulled apart.
That has to be the most erotic feeling I have ever experienced. He shuddered with the feeling, and knew that he thought that every time it happened.
She was panting. He swallowed loudly, unwilling to tear his eyes from hers, now shining and sparked with fire and lust.
"Patch it to my quarters, Data. Thank you."
Picard's strong arms embraced her closer, loathe to release her from the joy they shared.
Beverly's eyes were closed. He could feel her shaking, and she could feel him tremble. They shared a last lingering kiss, and withdrew their hands from each others bodies, hating the feeling.
"Computer...resume turbolift."