Chapter Four
Marrissa splashed water on her face again, before toweling it off. It had been late last night when she had finally beamed up from Essex. She'd spent most of the day curled up on the overlook on Mount Ararat. She'd missed her supper, subsisting on just a bowl of strawberries before she crawled exhausted into her bed.
The Search and Rescue phase was over. No one had been found for over a dozen hours in the wreckage around the Impact Zone. Before last night she'd gone almost forty hours with just three hour long catnaps in the Ready Room. As she'd been in effect charge of directing the resources of the three Starships that had arrived in orbit, she didn't feel that she could have spared more time for sleep.
Marrissa looked in the mirror. The circles around her eyes were gone, as were all signs of yesterday's tears. She reached over for her mock turtleneck, sliding the mustard yellow shirt over her head. She was still getting used to that color over the crimson that she'd worn for the past couple years in uniform. She tucked it neatly under her uniform pants, before fastening her two solid rank pips to its collar.
Her stomach growled. She was going to have to have very big breakfast today. Fortunately she'd gotten up early enough to afford the time, even after having slept for twelve straight hours. The uniform jacket went on easily. She'd gone up a size since she'd come on board the Enterprise-E. Marrissa was glad that she was in a growth spurt. The sooner she met her adult height, the better, as far as she was concerned. A quick well-practiced movement and her hair was up in her usual simple ponytail.
She exited the bathroom, walking into the main room of the Picard Family Quarters. It was mercifully empty. Her dad's new wife, the Doctor, was probably already doing her rounds of all the injured on the Enterprise that had been rescued over the last couple days. Who knew where the Captain was. Probably meeting with that Queen, Marrissa decided, approaching the replicator.
"Large glass of orange juice, a large stack of the type seven pancakes, grapefruit half, and extra napkins on tray," Marrissa ordered. A black tray appeared with a tall glass of orange juice; a bowl with half a grapefruit, liberally sprinkled with sugar on top; a plate with six pancakes covered in strawberry syrup and topped with whipped cream; and several red cloth napkins with the Star Fleet Logo on them in black printed on them. Marrissa took the tray to the dinning table, choosing to sit facing away from the window.
Marrissa began her meal by digging into her grapefruit. A spirt of juice sprayed out as she first put her spoon into the grapefruit, hitting her on her left cheek. She picked up a napkin and wiped it off. As she did, she saw a pile of pictures laying on the end of the table. The top one was of her, dressed in a long flowing gown for some formal dinner that her mother had insisted that she attend when she was eleven. Her father had called it her Princess gown. That had been the only reason she'd worn it. Yesterday had put a lot of her father's comments in a different light. He'd always been calling her Princess. She thought it was a nickname, like her mother calling father her prince charming. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe she was a princess.
She dug into her grapefruit. A Princess ... that was a fantasy. Plus Princesses weren't like they used to be. Clara was a Princess. She certainly wasn't a girl who was so delicate and sensitive that she could detect a pea under ten mattresses. The idea of her being an undiscovered Princess was just plain insane. Queen Victoria obviously needed to have her mind examined for even suggesting it. Still, she did have to admit that 'her royal highness Princess Lieutenant Marrissa' had a nice ring to it. The senior chiefs would all have a good laugh and probably consider it an sign of approaching insanity if she used it though. It certainly wouldn't be good for the discipline of Security. She'd been worried about that ever since she had to make that first duty roster for the department.
Grapefruit done, she turned to her pancakes. They weren't as good as they were when they where made by a real cook, no matter how much Clara said they were indistinguishable from the original pattern. Still, they were tasty. Marrissa pulled the picture of her in her Princess gown closer to her. She had no idea where these pictures came from but they did bring back a few good memories. Under the Princess Gown was a picture she hadn't seen in ages. It was of her father and mother in cadet dress uniform, standing before some priest with a red skullcap on. Her father was sliding a wedding ring onto her mother's finger. Her mother was already slightly swollen with pregnancy.
Heir to the throne. The phrase ran through her mind. She couldn't be that. She was a Star Fleet Officer. She was Chief of Security. She had her schoolwork to do. She didn't have time to be anything more than that, right now. She couldn't be heir to the throne. Queen Victoria was crazy. That's all there was to it. Her knife hit the plate with a clang as she finished cutting another piece of pancake off.
The starboard door to the quarters opened, revealing Captain Jean-Luc Picard. He took three steps into the room, the door closing behind him before he noticed Marrissa. "Good morning, Marrissa," he smiled. "I assume you slept well." Marrissa nodded. "I see you found the collection of pictures that King George kept. I mentioned to the Queen yesterday that you didn't have any pictures of your family on the Enterprise, so she sent these up."
Marrissa pushed the pictures away. She dug back into her pancakes, not sparing a word for her father. He hadn't even came after her when she'd run out of the Retreat, not that she would have welcomed his presence at the time. She needed that time alone.
"Chief Nelson informs me that security efficiency ratings are up this week," the Captain said. Marrissa welcomed the change of subject. "I believe that's the first time that's happened since you took over the department."
"It is," Marrissa said, between bites. "I don't think the non-coms like me much. Half of my problems are related to that. Chief Nelson said that I'd have to grow up fix that." Marrissa scraped the last bit of strawberry syrup off her plate.
The Captain nodded, still looking through the pictures. "I remember this one." He slid the picture over towards Marrissa. It was of her, Jay, Alexander, Clara, and Shayna, just after they returned from the field trip crash landing. None of them had changed yet. Both boys were just in their cut off pants, with bare chests. The girls wore just midriff covering shirts and cut off pants. All of them had knives hanging from vine holsters. "You all went native so quickly. I suspect if we'd been another couple days you would have been wearing grass skirts and leaves."
"We planned on it," Marrissa admitted, looking at the picture. "Shayna had one started." She put the picture aside and took a deep sip of her juice.
"And this one is priceless . . . " the Captain said, sliding another one over to her. It had her and Jay floating towards the ceiling. Jay had just gotten the courage to ask then eight-year-old Marrissa to dance when the gravity had suddenly gone out, sending them both floating up. The air currents had more effect on Marrissa's dress though, as it was floating up, revealing Marrissa's pink panties. "... am I to assume that this is the origin of all that teasing?"
"Yes!" Marrissa said, tossing the picture away. "I thought I had gotten rid of all of those pictures."
"Apparently not," the Captain said in an almost even tone. Marrissa could tell that there was a glint of amusement behind his eyes though. "I shall have to thank Queen Victoria for providing such enlightening photos of you."
"Please tell me that the naked corridor chase isn't in there," Marrissa groaned, remembering one of the other embarrassing pictures that her mother had taken.
"You, about age three, running naked through the corridors with your father chasing you, holding a dress?" the Captain said, holding a picture just out of Marrissa's view. Marrissa nodded, her face flushing. "Sorry, that's still at King George's Retreat. Queen Victoria has it."
"She's got all the embarrassing ones, doesn't she?" Marrissa moaned. "If any of my friends see them, she is so dead."
"Marrissa, I don't think you want to go that far," the Captain said. "If she dies, you become Queen."
"I do not," Marrissa said, standing. "I am not the heir to any planet." She did not need to hear that. "I will not become Queen, ever, and no one can say otherwise." Her face flushed with anger as her silverware dropped to the tray, and her chair rammed into the wall behind her. "I'm due on duty on the Bridge in ten minutes. Good bye."
Marrissa didn't even bother putting her tray back in the replicator, though she knew that the Captain would have some words for her that night for not doing so. She just strode over to the nearest door to the corridor and out it. Her pace was even and fast, as her anger drove her. She didn't pause until she reached the turbolift. It opened quickly for her. She took a deep breath and counted to ten, before she ordered. "Bridge."
...
Queen Victoria approached the Launchpad with a bit of nervousness. The rambling house that her great aunt, Clarrissa, Duchess of Norsex, lived in was an imposing structure. The front that she approached was the old core of the house, a style known in King Charles II's textbooks as Victorian. Victoria figured it was due for a revival, the old house was flanked by high walls on each side, extending to two steel and glass pillars, from which the Essexite flag flew. The Duchess's personal standard usually flew from the top of the main house, but as Victoria approached it was lowered. It took her a moment to realize what was happening. The Royal Standard was being raised in its place.
She climbed up the steps and found the door opened for her. The butler had never opened the door for her before. Then again, the last time she had come it was to report her progress in the Engineering Apprenticeship that she held with the Duchess's Royal Essexite Starcraft, Limited. That was probably one thing she was going to have to give up, one that she really didn't want to do. "Your Majesty," the butler said. "Her Grace is in the Solarium, she thought that you might join her and Nozomi for tea."
"That sounds like an excellent idea, Raequan," Victoria said. She had no idea where the Duchess got her butlers. The current one was at least two and a quarter meters tall and of a feline race, with well-groomed lavender fur. He wore a black suit and tails, his tail sticking out between them. His pace was smooth as he led her through the hallways to the Solarium.
The solarium faced the southwest, letting in the bright afternoon sun. Great Aunt Clarrissa was seated on a large high backed chair with bamboo arms, and a very thick green cushion. She wore one of her ornate gowns as she sat in the chair, like it was a throne. Her royal blue dress cascaded off her shoulders and down the seat to the ground like a gentle mist blowing off the mountains. Off to the side, her great-grand daughter sat on a stool, her paints and brushes arrayed on a table beside her, palette at hand and canvas before her. On the brick inside wall of the solarium were the pictures that Nozomi had painted, including one covered by a cloth.
Clarrissa stood at Victoria's approach as the butler announced, "Her Majesty, Queen Victoria." Nozomi stood as well, when Clarrissa made a tisking noise. Together they both curtsied to her. It was the first time anyone had accorded her that privilege. To be accorded it from family in private was doubly special, as family usually omitted such formality. Still, this was the Duchess, and all of her family had know that the Duchess insisted on propriety, at least since she turned fifty.
"Your Grace, you do us honor," Victoria replied in a formal tone as she could manage. "We come to you for your wisdom in a matter that we fear we have royally screwed." The Duchess had been the only person she could think of that she could get advice from in the matter of her heir, and she was worried that her Great-Aunt would demure giving any.
"It has been a long time since anyone has come to me about sexual advice," the Duchess said, with a wicked smile. "Please, have a seat, your majesty. Raequan should be back in a moment with our tea, and Nozomi would no doubt like to get back to her portraiture." She gestured towards a chair that matched hers.
Victoria took a seat in it. The last time Victoria had visited, she'd had to sit on a much less comfortable high backed stiff armed chair. This one was a lot more comfortable. The arms even gave a little as she placed her hands on them. "I'm afraid I'm not here to seek advice on sexual manners," she said.
"Pity. I used to be considered quite the catch," the Duchess said. Her eyes seemed to twinkle with the statement. "And the boys scored with me quite often." Victoria blushed at her Great Aunt's comments. The Duchess had had all four of her daughters before she turned eighteen, the youngest when she was thirteen. "But enough of my giving my brothers gray hair before their teens, though should you ask, I know a few places you can waylay the Prime Minister without causing any fuss."
"I'll keep that in mind, Aunt Clarrissa," Victoria said with a smile. She really didn't know where to start. "At present that's not a problem though. I'm afraid that my heir presumptive is."
"That would be Prince Daniel, I presume?" the Duchess said. "My youngest brother's son should hardly be any trouble, even if he followed in my poor nephew George's footsteps and ran off to Star Fleet."
"I wish it was Prince Daniel," Victoria said, sinking back into her chair. It was really quite comfortable. "I'm afraid I've just frightened away my heir, George's girl Marrissa." Frightened might be an understatement, Victoria thought, as she reflected on Marrissa's run from the room.
"She would be next in line after you," the Duchess reflected, as her butler reentered the room with the tea. "Ah, Raequan, you brought the tea. Raequan brews an excellent pot of tea, Victoria. Two lumps, Raequan." The duchess accepted her cup from the butler, who silently offered one to Victoria.
"One lump, Raequan," Victoria said, before accepting her cup. The butler went over to Nozomi next, who declined with a grimace.
"Refresh Nozomi's juice, Raequan," the Duchess said. In a quiet aside she confided to Victoria. "Nozomi can't stand tea. I can't understand it." Victoria nodded. It was odd that someone from the Royal line didn't like tea. It was the planetary drink of choice. "What is our line of succession now?"
"Well, we think we've settled it down, now," Victoria said, pausing to take a sip of her tea. It really was quite good. "First it's Marrissa, followed by the family miracle. Somehow Lady Hilda got thrown a full mile inside her best friend's residence in Samson Residential Tower. She lost her legs, but she's alive."
"I was against that tower's construction, one of the few Progressive Party Projects that I opposed," the Duchess said. "It was needless construction, ruined the skyline of Londondairy, never was filled, and was a pork barrel project of Ely Dessalines, but I have to admit it did have good engineering."
"It looks like about a dozen people from it survived, and it was the closest to the center of the impact of any structure with survivors," Victoria said, placing her cup on its saucer next to her chair. "Prince Daniel and his daughter are next in line after her."
"Ah, my namesake," the Duchess said, with a sigh. "You know she made Lieutenant Junior Grade on the same list as her father did, and her apprenticeship on the Enterprise has been going rather well, from what I hear. Her warp speed tables have proved to be quite accurate."
"I heard," Victoria said, smiling. The Essex Royal Family had more than its share of geniuses in their fields. In fact some said that the only thing that was holding the family back was the monarchy. "You made me read them all, including the notes she sent you when she was just theorizing. You make a great sounding board."
"Which, of course, is why you're here," the Duchess said, taking another sip of her tea.
"She's scared of being a Princess, Aunt," Victoria said. "That bloody Federation elitism has brainwashed her. It doesn't help that she didn't even know she was a Princess, and didn't know a single family member save Daniel and Clara ... you should have seen her expression as she looked at her father's picture in the Retreat. She was shocked, and once she was actually told, she was so mad. She wouldn't even accept the Captain, her adopted father's calming words. She ran out of there like she was being pursued by a rampaging Klingon. We didn't know where she went, and Captain Picard said she didn't return to the Enterprise until really late." Victoria took a deep breath.
"I see," the Duchess said, placing her tea on it's saucer and leaning towards Victoria. "I suppose that she could have had a better reaction, but given that she lost her parents almost two years ago and no one in the family has contacted her since, it was going to be bad. Right now, I imagine that she probably doesn't know what to think about it."
"What should I do?" Victoria asked looking down at her half-empty tea cup. She had no idea where to start.
"Take things slow," the Duchess advised. "Let her bring up the Princess issue. Instead, focus on letting her know about her family. Don't call her down to the planet again, meet her on her turf. I'm sure that you will be able to visit the Enterprise, and perhaps spend the night and some time with your heir."
Victoria looked up from her tea. "Perhaps you're right, Aunt Clarrissa," she said, her eye catching on the shrouded panting again. "I'm curious, why is that painting covered?"
"Nozomi, if you'd uncover the portrait?" the Duchess said. The young girl put down her paints and walked over. She pulled off the black cloth, revealing the portrait of George IV. "Nozomi considers it complete, even though it's not finished, and I agree with her. I'm afraid that the wounds were just too great for me to look at it constantly, however. I've now outlived all my brothers, and all of them have met tragic ends."
Victoria looked at the painting of her grandfather closely. It was rather well done, capturing the humor in his eyes, the boyish charm that never quite disappeared from him with age. She liked the way it depicted him. It was much better than the somber portraits she had grew up with.
"The King commissioned it a few months ago," the Duchess said. "I think Nozomi did rather well." Victoria nodded. "It's a shame to cover it up. Nozomi, leave it uncovered. I shall get used to my grief. It is no use hiding all reminders. I tried that with Richard, when that man shot him and all his daughters. It didn't work." The Duchess picked up her tea again. "I was thinking that we might use the portrait for the funeral. There won't be any bodies to inter, of course, but we should have one in a few weeks for him and all those who died."
"I agree," Victoria said. The tea wasn't as hot as she liked it anymore. "Would you like to take on organizing that? I'm afraid that I don't have the time to do it justice, and we're missing a lot of the usual organizations that would handle that sort of thing."
"I shall do my best," the Duchess said, picking back up her tea. "Can you pass along something to Billy?" Victoria had to think for a minute to remember that the Duchess still called the Prime Minister his childhood nickname. She nodded. "My illustrious Party Leader intends to call for a vote of no confidence as soon as the Basques chose their new MPs." The tone of disgust was clearly evident. "Ely seems to think that with them he can wrestle control of the government from Billy. Now is quite simply not the time."
"I'll warn Bill," Victoria said, putting her tea down again. The sun was now low on the horizon. She stood up. "I better get back to the Retreat, your grace. I have a lot of work to do."
"Understood, your majesty," the Duchess said, standing. The butler was already at the door. "Raequan, please show her majesty to her vehicle. Victoria, it was nice to see you. Don't be a stranger."
"I won't, Aunt Clarrissa," Victoria said, before hugging her Great Aunt. "Thank you for your time." With that she exited the Solarium. She felt a lot better leaving from there than she had before she arrived.
...
Queen Victoria of Essex was very glad for the Enterprise's internal direction system. She had no doubt that the ship was well laid-out but it had a maddening sameness to the corridors, but she could make no sense to it. According to the computer, she had one more turn to make before she arrived at Sickbay. She had intended to visit Marrissa first, but Commander Riker had informed her that Marrissa was on duty.
Commander Riker had told her what Marrissa's duties were as Chief of Security. It amazed Victoria that such a young girl was trusted with such responsibility. The Enterprise apparently wasn't yet up to its full compliment, and it's mix of officers was heavily weighted to Engineering like most ships still undergoing shakedown. Still, all those crewmen and the general responsibility for the security of an entire starship was a bit much for a girl almost fourteen. She wondered how the girl had made full Lieutenant. She'd have to ask someone.
The door up ahead had a caduceus on it, so she turned into it. It opened revealing Sickbay. The room was filled with the most critical of cases. Every bed had someone in it. There were soft beeping noises punctuated by a irregular loud alarm.
"Twelve ccs of analeptic!" a strong woman's voice said. "Damn it, I'm not going to let all this go to waste. Breathe, damn it!" A quick scan of sickbay located the voice. It was coming from an auburn-haired doctor who was part of a group of three medics surrounding the bed. Victoria breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the patient didn't look like Hilda. "There, cauterize that, Selar."
"Pulse rate is stabilized, Doctor," an Asian medic said. Victoria looked at the foot of the bed, and spotted a familiar blonde sitting in an old-fashioned wheel chair. Hilda's fist was pressed against her lips as tears grew in the corner of her eyes. "She's beginning to participate in respiration again."
"Thank you Nyoko," the Doctor said, surveying the girl below her. "Selar, put a dermal regenerator on that side, and I want this girl turned over every hour. I don't like the way she's healing at the moment. Keep her on assisted respiration, and increase her oxygen." Then the Doctor turned to Hilda. "Your friend is on her way to recovery again, thanks to you, Hilda."
"Will Greta be okay, Doctor Picard?" Hilda asked, a note of worry causing her voice to catch. Victoria stepped up beside the girl.
"I won't lie to you, Hilda," the Doctor said. "We'll do our best, but a lot of it's up to her." Then the Doctor looked up to Victoria. The Doctor's quick examination of Victoria felt like she was getting her own check up without the need of any instruments. "And you are?"
"Queen Victoria," Victoria said, meeting the Doctor's eyes. "I came to see my cousin Hilda, here. I understand that she's been under your care."
"Doctor Hyshita has been her primary physician," the Doctor said, gesturing towards the Asian doctor. "But I've checked over her a few times. I'm Doctor Beverly Picard, Chief Medical Officer."
"Any relation to the Captain?" Victoria asked. She was curious. Even if the Doctor wasn't related she might be able to give her some insight as to Marrissa's response to learning that she was heir to the throne.
"I'm his wife," Doctor Picard said. "Your heir, Marrissa, is my step-daughter." She was neatly cleaning and putting away her instruments as she talked. Hilda had moved closer to the bed and was staring at her best friend.
"I suppose that you know her pretty well, then?" Victoria asked. She hadn't expected to run across Marrissa's step-mother.
"Fairly well," Doctor Picard said, her instruments snapping into place. "I assume you want to know why I think she ran from you?" Victoria nodded. "Two years ago, Marrissa lost her family. She's spent the last couple years building a new one, and a new home and place for herself. Now your family comes back into her life, just when she's finally got a father and a mother again. She sees princesses as girls trapped in ivory towers, which means she'll be pulled away from her family again. I'm not surprised she's scared."
Victoria nodded again. She hadn't considered it from that angle. The estrangement of Prince George hadn't even let Marrissa know her family, much less the family tradition of not sitting around waiting for the throne. It was true that the last four monarchs hadn't gotten into business on their own, but they'd all become King before they were of age.
During Victoria's musing, the Doctor had moved off, so Victoria moved to kneel by Lady Hilda. The girl was staring at her best friend. As Victoria looked down, she realized for the first time that the tomboy was missing her legs. "Are you okay, Hilda?" she asked.
"I'm better that Greta," Hilda said, avoiding the issue. "She's got to survive. She's just got to." The girl was on the edge of tears. Her lower body was strapped into the chair, and her hands were folded in front of her mouth. Her stomach growled.
Victoria placed her arm around Hilda's shoulders, attempting to project comfort to the girl. It was a gesture of long practice, for visiting the sick and injured was a long tradition of the Royal Line from which Victoria was descended. "I'm sure she will," Victoria said softly. Hilda sniffled and wiped her eyes. Her stomach growled again. "I think you at least need something to eat. Doctor, where can we go to eat?"
The Asian doctor who was checking up on the next patient over from Greta responded, "We've set up an extra mess down the corridor to the left. It's the second hatch on the right. Lady Hilda, I don't want you back in here until you've had at least two platefuls. You're doing no one any good when you don't eat."
Hilda nodded her acceptance, and put her hands on her wheelchair's large wheels. "Okay. I know where that is," she said, as she turned the chair around and headed for the door. "Coming Tory?"
"You know how much I hate that nickname, don't you?" Victoria said with a rueful smile. "I wonder I can discourage it by royal proclamation." She fell in behind Hilda as the young girl wheeled herself out of the room.
"Clara said you'd say that," Hilda said, with just a bit of a smile in her voice. "And I'm not stopping using it."
Another young voice came from behind her. "Neither am I. Someone has to keep Queen Toady Tory and Prime Minister Billy Bob in line." The Queen turned around to spot the source of the voice. It was a younger girl than Marrissa in the same Star Fleet Uniform with Lieutenant junior grade pips on. Her black hair was held back with a single braid. Somehow Lieutenant Clara Sutter, Princess of Essex, managed to look much older in her uniform. "Heading for lunch, Hilda?"
"Yes," Hilda said, as Clara moved to walk alongside her. Victoria smiled as Hilda shook her head at Clara's unspoken offer to push. Victoria liked the way the two were talking to each other, even if it seemed to be at her expense. "It looks like we're getting Queenly company, though"
"Well, if you don't mind my company," Victoria said, as the door to the makeshift mess came into view. "I'd really like to spend some time with the family I have left." Until the words escaped her mouth she hadn't realized how true that was. She missed her three brothers and five sisters. Having been the oldest by almost eight years, Victoria often didn't feel like she was really a part of the rest of her immediate family. Her next oldest sister Elizabeta was Hilda's age, and the two had looked a lot a like. Christina had been grounded, so she couldn't go with Hilda to Greta's. If she had, perhaps she'd be still alive. Tears started going down Victoria's cheeks, again.
Her focus was blurred as the tears overtook her for the first time since the day she'd found out she was Queen. Clara's arm slid behind Victoria, guiding her through the door to a seat. "We don't mind, Victoria," Clara said, sitting beside her. "Family should stick together in times like this." The tears refused to stop flowing. She was supposed to be strong. She was the Queen. The load of the planet pushed down on her shoulders as the grief of her loss flowed down her cheeks. Minutes passed by as she tried to bring her tears under control.
Clara handed Victoria a cloth napkin to wipe her eyes of the tears as on of the Enterprise's makeshift messes came into focus. The room was obviously not quite finished, still having marks indicating where things were to be installed. The hastily positioned tables were placed orderly though the large trapezoidal shaped room, with a collection of mismatched chairs scattered around the room. Several nuns had just taken a seat around the closest table. Their heads were bowed as the oldest began to say the blessing. Victoria bowed her head as well.
"Bless us oh Lord, and those for whom we care for. Grant peace to all who pass through our care, either to return to their homes or to your side. Bless these, thy gifts for which we are about to receive, through Christ our Lord, Amen," the sister said. The other nuns and Victoria replied to the prayer with a soft "Amen."
"Can I get you something, Ladies?" Victoria looked up to discover a young Crewman standing at the end of the table. "Or would the Lieutenant prefer to handle it herself?"
"If you're offering, I'm not turning your help down this time," Clara replied, standing up. "Just so you understand it's help, not taking over. Victoria, this is Crewman Hillary Haxton. He's the unfortunate soul who gets to follow me around all day in Engineering. Hill, this is her majesty Queen Victoria of Essex, my cousin, and Lady Hilda, also my cousin."
"Majesty?" the young man said with a stammer and a blush. The man couldn't be even as old as Victoria. The crew of the Enterprise seemed to be quite young to the Queen. "Pleased to meet you."
"Pardon Hill," Clara said, moving around the end of the table. "He's fresh out of the Training School. Same as usual, Hilda?"
"Yes, Clara," Hilda replied. Victoria had barely noticed that Hilda had pushed a couple chairs aside to take a place to Victoria's right at the table. "I bet Tory wants spaghetti." She had just finished wiping her own tears away.
"No thank you," Victoria said. Her accidents with spaghetti and meatballs were well known around the palace. She had no intention of reviving them, much less extending them to Star Fleet. "Rice and chicken breast, please, Clara."
"Okay, Hill, I need your hands for this one," Clara said, as they moved off. "Try not put them through the back of the replicator this time."
As they moved off towards the replicator, Victoria surveyed the room. Her impressions about the room's makeshift unfinished nature were confirmed by the exposed conduit and partially installed carpet. The room seemed to be filled with mostly medical personnel, including the nuns from the Sisters of Mercy. It was obvious that there was no set schedule for most of them as there was a constant flow to the replicators and in and out of the room.
Victoria's eyes looked towards the door again. It opened revealing a young girl in uniform. Her blond hair was in a pony tail, just like it had been the last time Victoria had seen her. Princess Marrissa had just stumbled upon her Queen.
...
Lieutenant Marrissa Picard's day had gone rather well, if you discounted breakfast. Her command was actually preforming rather well for a change. There was some satisfaction in Security's step today. Everyone seemed to have caught up with their sleep following the long shifts put in during the search and rescue operations. The Captain had issued a general commendation for all involved in the operations. Several Security Officers had also gotten mentioned by name, and Marrissa had been delighted to witness a few reading the commendation and discovering their name in it.
She personally had submitted six members of Security for specific medals relating to their actions reported to her. It was nice to finally have a department that was showing that it could do its duty. Marrissa had just left the Bridge for lunch. It was a very good day for her, she'd almost forgotten about her royal problem.
Marrissa had decided to eat in one of the temporary messes near Sickbay. She was entitled to use the Officer's Mess, or she could have just gone home to the Picard Family Quarters. Neither was appealing to her at the moment. The Captain wouldn't bring up any family discipline on the Bridge. Dad had managed to make that separation early on, but the Officer's Mess was fair ground, to say nothing of the Family Quarters. She'd not put up her empty breakfast tray, nor cleaned her room in quite some time. Her bed was definitely not made. Marrissa knew that led to most unpleasant conversations with her Dad. He liked everything neat, and woe to the daughter who failed to toe the line on that issue.
The door to the mess parted for Marrissa to enter. She immediately began scanning the room, looking for Clara. She had been eating in the mess for the past few days with her cousin Hilda. Marrissa had eaten with them once before.
Her eyes moved passed a table full of nuns, and then locked on an unexpected presence. She recognized the long blond hair and the woolen red blouse. Her amethyst eyes locked with the other's sapphire pools. They bored into her soul. Her hands felt sweaty and she trembled. It was the Queen. The woman who wanted to take her away from the Enterprise, separate her from the home and family that she'd built. Marrissa shook with sudden fear, the confident stare of the Queen draining her confidence, her comfort, her shell, away from her.
Marrissa couldn't meet the stare anymore. She tore herself away, barely dodging people as she fled from the room. Tears started pooling in her eyes again as she beat a retreat all the way back to her quarters.
...
Lieutenant junior grade Daniel Sutter, Prince of Essex, was very tired when he finally got off shift. He'd volunteered to do a double shift, after the officer who had been in command of Impulse Engineering got sick. Lieutenant Gnarish had apparently gotten exposed to something during the search and rescue operations on Essex and had a delayed allergic reaction. So Daniel had leapt at the chance to actually spend a shift in command of the second most important Engineering area on the ship. It was an oppertuntitity that he'd only had once had arrived on the Enterprise-D a couple years before.
His neck ached from the positions he'd had it in while checking on the posts in Impulse Engineering. Daniel reached up and rubbed his neck to ease the pain. His wrist rested against the two pips of his rank, as he massaged out the pain. He smiled, as the cool metal brought back the memories of that day that he'd found out about his promotion after seven long years as Ensign. He'd been surprised at the time that he'd finally got his promotion in the post mortem promotions for the Enterprise-D.
His surprise had given way to shock when he'd spotted his own daughter's name right above his own in the alphabetical listings. Daniel had to wonder what had gotten into the Admiralty to approve Clara's promotion. He believed that she had the makings of a really fine engineer someday. It was joy to see her active mind wrap itself around a problem and come up with a solution. She didn't know all the standard solutions, like Daniel did, so Clara came about her solutions uniquely. Daniel thought his daughter had an instinctive sense of Engineering. Some of his colleagues felt otherwise, but at least on the old Enterprise-D her position was respected, having been first filled by Wesley Crusher, and then a succession of similar young geniuses ending with Clara.
He wondered if Clara realized just how rare her position was sometimes. She was the youngest person ever to be granted the Acting-Ensign's rank, and seemed to take Engineering's acceptance for granted. Daniel was actually surprised that Clara hadn't run into the same problems as her best friend Marrissa had. It wasn't until he saw them eating lunch together one day that he realized why.
Marrissa was short, and she had only slight breasts, so far. Clara, on the other hand was four inches taller than Marrissa, even though she was a year and a half younger. His daughter was also much more developed, and wore her hair in much more adult like styles than Marrissa's pony tail. His little girl was growing up. Daniel figured that it wouldn't be much longer before his daughter started dating, if she could find a boy her age to date. The new Enterprise lacked any males under eighteen. In fact the children on the Enterprise-E could be named on one hand; Marrissa, T'Luv, Shayna, and his daughter.
Daniel had almost passed his temporary quarters during his musing, causing him to have to make a sharp turn towards the door. The sharp turn probably saved his life. He suddenly felt a pain on his left side, as a cut opened up on his left side. Pain shot through his body and his eyes watered. He turned toward the source of the sword, the blood loss already causing his vision to swim.
Pain threatened to overwhelm him as he turned. He knew that the next blow would be the end of him. Daniel's opponent was in a Star Fleet Uniform, with a sword raised, just beginning to come down again. He'd never seen the dark haired man, so with the mustard colored mock turtleneck he had to be from Security. The sword gleamed as it came down, its tip marred with Daniel's blood. Daniel stood there, trapped by the pain and shock as the sword descended towards him. Its wielder's smile filled his vision as the sword closed.