Chapter 13
Chief Engineer's Quarters, USS Enterprise, 31 December 2381
"All right, a little...a little more...a little more...there! Stop!"
Commander Reginald Barclay was putting his finishing touches on the masterpiece. Taking him way too long as it was, he was sure it was going to be perfect. It had to be perfect – he had spent too much time on it already. If he we're to fail – well, he didn't even want to know what the consequences would be.
"Come on. It doesn't need to be perfect. It's just a punch table. If people are really looking at the table placement when they are grabbing a glass of punch, then I'll defer to you next time – but I promise they won't be. We've got more to do..."
"But, Shayna, if people bump against the table while walking through, and it isn't at just the right angle, it could splash onto the table – or worse!"
"'Or worse'? Reg – it's punch. If it spills, we can make more – or even gasp replicate more. Don't worry!"
Reg stood up from kneeling beside the table, and, biting his lip in concern, stepped away from the offending piece of furniture. It just didn't look right – but he was willing to let it go. Shayna Heim was a special person, and special people, he knew, deserve to be listened to, even when they were wrong.
"All right. All right, then, I'll leave it. What else needs to be done?"
The fair haired woman looked around at the quarters, and nodded in satisfaction. Snacks had been set on tables throughout the room, and glasses and bottles had been placed on the main dining table in one of the corners. Decorations were put up, and soft music was wafting through the air like so many dreams.
"No, you wonderful man, I think that is everything. Well, almost everything..."
"Shayna...we can't! The guests will be arriving in less than ten minutes! It's already 2152 hours!"
"Actually, I told everyone to be here for 2230 hours, just so you'd rush to get things ready. And," she said in a seductively low voice, "I told everyone not to be early. We have time."
Reg couldn't say anything. It had only been recently that he had found the courage to ask the MACO out on a date. To his pleasant surprise, she was a strong and opinionated woman, more than capable of making many of the small decisions in her life, and providing input into his – without being pushy. Pushing him into the bedroom of his quarters, she began to undress the Enterprise's Chief Engineer.
Now, though, now...she's being pushy.
And that's pretty ok.
Admiral's Quarters, USS Enterprise, 31 December 2381
Admiral Jean-Luc Picard looked about him. The quarters were in excellent shape, and very few things were out of position. Sighing loudly, he looked about again, straining to see something that he could fix – something that he could make a difference, however slight, with. Seeing nothing, his sigh grew louder.
"What is it, Jean-Luc?"
He looked about with a start, spying the woman who made his legs turn to mush walk through the doors to their quarters. He noticed her pointedly not looking to the left, towards the room of his two lieutenants.
Who could be anywhere – who could be dead – who could be...
Seeing the look in his eyes, she came to him.
"Jean-Luc, worrying about them won't make them come home safer or faster. You're doing all you can, my dear."
"It's simply that, well, it seems that I am no longer able to do anything, no longer able to make the differences that I once was. During the finght, IJ was pushed under the table, and told to stay out of the way. Before that, you needed to come rescue me. I – I don't know, I'm sounding childish, aren't I?"
Beverly looked at him with love in her eyes. How could he be so smart and yet be so blind?
"Jean-Luc, you were pushed under the table because your lieutenants had a job to do, and they did it. Bellia and Rachel knew that to be a flag-lieutenant, especially for an Admiral such as you, engendered a certain amount of risk. I love them, and I want to see them home and safe, but I know that, if it was you who had been taken or killed, and they had survived, they'd be heartbroken. Their feelings towards you are not just of duty or official concern, but of love. They worship you, Jean-Luc, as does almost everyone on this ship and in this fleet. This isn't about you being 'useless' or 'helpless', but of you now being the one who needs to make it through. Now, I'm certainly not saying that everyone but you is expendable – but your life isn't your own anymore. The thousands of people in this fleet depend on you to stay alive and in control, and I know Bellia and Rachel, wherever they might be, and whatever state they might be in, have at least some measure of peace because they know you're all right. Now, why don't we celebrate New Years..."
A loud sigh escaped the Admiral's lips.
"...and when midnight rolls around, I'll be sure to be in a dark corner somewhere."
Captain's Quarters, USS Titan, 31 December 2381
"Deanna! Where is my tie? I just had it here somewhere..."
"On the bed underneath your coat. And why in the name of Betazed are you dressing up in that monkey suit?"
"'Monkey suit'? 'Monkey suit'? This, Deanna, is a replica of a 1940's Zoot Suit – complete with a feather in my hat! How can you even resist me when I'm in this...I really don't know."
Deanna, herself, was still in her bathrobe after exiting the shower. They had been invited – and accepted – an invitation from Reg Barclay to a New Years Eve party in his quarters. She was looking forward to it – not only because Reg was a dear friend of hers, but also because the grapevine had told her that a MACO had laid a bit of a claim on the Engineer, and from all accounts was a strong and attractive woman, the kind that Deanna had always suspect Reg of being able to attract.
"Anyway, I think this'll make a statement for the people at the party."
"Oh? And what, Captain, would that statement be?"
"That I'm a fun lovin' guy!"
Deanna rolled her eyes – but she certainly appreciated the way the suit hung off him.
"What are you going to be wearing anyway?"
"Oh, I was thinking of my wedding dress."
"I thought we got rid of that...?"
Deanna smiled, "my Betazoid wedding dress."
Will's mouth hung open, and then he began to laugh as she took her robe off, and sauntered over to him.
"Uh, uh, uh. No touching! Do you know how long it took me to get my hair and beard right?!"
"Uh huh, and what about the look on my face says I care at all? Outta the suit, zoot boy."
Chief Engineer's Quarters, USS Enterprise, December 31 2381
"Shayna...we've got to go get ready now! It's already quarter past! People will start to arrive in less than ten minutes...we've got to shower and get dressed..."
Shayna sighed, and stretched languorously in the bed she shared with her lover. Her arms were raised above her head, and her breasts were being displayed for the enjoyment of the man who was currently laying beside her, looking around.
"All right. Go have you shower."
Getting up from the bed, the nude man traipsed his way awkwardly into the bathroom. He was well muscled and formed, and Shayna had no complaints about anything his body at all – in fact, she couldn't quite figure out where is self-consciousness came from in regards to him being nude.
Hearing the water turned on in the bathroom, she crept her way out of bed, and, looking at the chronometer that read '2216', she smiled to herself, and went into the bathroom. Pulling back the door that opened into the luxurious shower stall, she ran her hand down Barclay's back, causing him to turn around and see her naked form before him. She held a questioning look on her face.
"Once more?"
Reg couldn't respond with anything other than a mute nod of his head, and it was not long before their moans echoed throughout the room.
Deanna put her hand out in front of Will before they made it to Barclay's quarters.
"Shall we go see the Admiral and Beverly first?"
"What? Why? I would imagine they are coming tonight. Let's just go in-"
"No. I really think we should go get them first. Come on, Will."
Used to the whims of his wife, Riker nodded his head, and, setting off towards the turbolift, Deanna let out a breath. Well, that would have been awkward. But – well done, Reg.
Admiral's Quarters, USS Enterprise, 31 December 2381
"One moment!" The stentorian voice of their old Captain boomed through the door.
Will and Deanna waited for a few moments, before ringing the chime again. A strong voice again, but this time feminine – the voice of their old doctor, tinged with laughter. After a last loud giggle from the woman in the room, the practised-stern voice of Picard came through.
"Come."
The two doors opened to reveal a clean and well ordered room, apart from a dingle pillow from the couch which had been thrown to the floor at some point. It did not require an empath to pick up on the feelings of the two whom Deanna and Will loved dearly – and what the two of them had been interrupted in doing, or about to be doing.
"Uh, sorry for interrupting, Admiral, but we were wondering if you were to be attending the party in Reg's quarters tonight?"
"Not interrupting, Will. Beverly and I were-"
"...talking..."
"...talking, and yes, we'd love to join you..."
"...yes, we would."
The two sitting on the couch were casting furtive eyes at each other, and Riker was feeling like he had interrupted more than just some talking.
"Well, in that case, Deanna and I should go help Reg set up. You and Beverly will be along in...?"
"We'll be right behind-"
"In fifteen minutes or so. You and Deanna go along." Beverly elbowed the Admiral rather pointedly, but also invisibly to their two friends.
"Right. Well...uh, we'll see you." Riker turned and left, taking Deanna with him.
When they had finally gotten out of the room, Will turned to Deanna.
"Why didn't you stop us from going in there? It was pretty obvious what they were doing..."
Deanna frowned at Will.
"Well, yes, after we got in. Both of them, I have to say, have remarkably strong minds. I didn't actually sense anything until we were inside."
Riker looked back at the door, and smiled. "Fifteen minutes?"
"I'd give them twenty. Now, come on, lets go see if Reg needs a hand."
Letting the water of the shower bead and drop from his warmed body, Admiral Jean-Luc Picard heaved a sigh of relief. The activities of the past half an hour sated, but never removed, his hunger for the woman before him, and as he moved his hands over her skin, he could feel that hunger coming to the surface once more.
"Jean-Luc? You cannot be serious...you can't. I'm a doctor, and there is no way you could be aroused again...it's been, what, five or ten minutes...ahhhh"
Jean-Luc's hands found tender spots on her body and assaulted them mercilessly.
"I note, Beverly, that you, too, are not exactly in a state of calm..."
"Females...don't have...a...cool down...time...like men-" Her eyes closed as she moved back into him, rubbing her body against his, soft moans being elicited by the expert ministrations of her lover's fingers.
"Bu..but we've got to go...soon...mmm," her voice dropped as her hands played about his neck, "don't stop, Jean-Luc, don't dare stop...but move...a little to...there."
The Admiral's hands began to move swifter and swifter, and his fingers probed ever deeper into the soft flesh found at the Doctor's centre, his own arousal being fuelled by the feelings that he knew he was causing in her. Her moans increased in volume slightly, but he could hear the strain, as though she were holding back. Her breath came in shudders, like metal caught in a powerful magnetic field.
My, god, this woman. She turns me on just by being near, just by being turned on herself.
The Doctor's own hands moved down, and followed his torso until finally reaching his own chief erogenous zone, the cool water of the shower contrasting deliciously with the warmth she felt there. She felt him shiver as her own hands began to massage the hardening manhood there.
Well, now...that is a compliment I can't help but take.
Working faster and faster, and a few minute later, she felt a familiar trembling in her stomach. Looking up and into his eyes, she felt the first waves of pleasure flow over her body, but she managed, through great effort, to continue her own pleasuring of him. She generally had, from the moment of the first waves, to being completely out of it in ecstasy, around ten or twenty seconds. Wanting him to join her in orgasm, she began to fondle his erection more urgently, and was gratified to feel that he was not far from the edge. She could swear that she felt electricity arc between then, so charged was the passion they each shared for one another. Finally, unable to hold on any longer, she leapt headlong into the maelstrom that she could see and feel before her.
Willing him to follow her, she called out to him.
"Jean-Luc!"
Hearing his name so spoken by this woman caused light to blossom in Picard's mind, and the convulsions of his own climax began to wash over his body. Gasping into her neck, he felt himself release, and could hear her do the same, the fingers of his left hand kneading the soft flesh of her breast as she whimpered and moaned endearments into his ear, each one from her heart.
"My dear, my love, my honey."
They held one another for many moments after, enjoying the feeling of each other on their heated skin, the water cooling off the fires that had so recently raged in both of them - there was no thought to rinsing off the sweat and passion of the other. He looked up when he heard the soft laugh of his love in his ear.
"Jean-Luc, do you have any idea how much I'd like to stay in tonight? No, I know we can't, but...," she kissed him tenderly, with lips sweet with love, on the mouth, "I don't think I've ever been like this with any other man. I just wanted to let you know that, dearest."
Picard's hand came up to her chin and pulled her into another loving kiss.
"You have no idea how much I'd like that, too."
Staying entwined in the shower for what might have been seconds or minutes, they eventually got out and, helping one another dry off, got dressed in simple attire, and left to join their friends and comrades welcome a new year. Walking, hands entwined to the great joy and smiles of all they passed, they walked up to and through the door to the Chief Engineer's quarters.
Chief Engineer's Quarters, USS Enterprise, 1 January 2382
"10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1!"
Cheers erupted from those assembled, and kisses were exchanged. A ripple of laughter went throughout the room when Will Riker cleared his throat to break up the kiss between Reginald Barclay and Shayna Heim. When this didn't work the first time, he did so again, in a theatrically loud manner, before Reg was finally allowed to come up for air.
"You know, everyone: Reg used to be quite the social turtle, hiding in his shell whenever anyone or anything would come near. Then, of course, his I.Q. was raised over a thousand, saved the ship and countless lives, and brought us to an unknown part of space to meet with some of the nicest aliens we had ever met!"
Geordi laughed, "you also left out Reg practically rewriting our theoretical limits on warp engine efficiency and mechanics."
Riker smiled at his friend, "to true. So, to our gracious host for the evening, Reg Barclay. A truer friend you could not find!"
The room raised their classes, and with repeated calls of "good man," and "to Reg!" the room finally quieted down, and Geordi spoke.
"And, in the tradition of Engineers the fleet over, I'd like to present Reg with a token of the Dauntless' esteem."
Handing a PADD over to the man who was smiling like a jester, and whose cheeks gleamed with a rosy red from the champagne, Geordi stepped back.
"What is it?"
"I don't know, I can't see."
"It looks like a PADD...?"
Reg read over the PADD, and looked up, smile as wide as ever.
"These are the Dauntless' warp engine efficiency ratios. .966? Capt- Geordi, that's really spectacular!"
"I know, Reg. That's why I brought them. Now you have something to aim for on this ol' rust bucket."
Data spoke up, "Captain La Forge is apparently not aware, however, the intermix chamber on the Dauntless is .033 behind the Enterprise in efficiency."
The room quieted down as Geordi glowed red.
"Really? You manage to get it up to .993?"
"Y-yes, sir. I was going to send that over to you last week, but with everything going on and-"
La Forge laughed loudly, and clapped the fair-skinned man on the back.
"Reg – it's all right! Well done, by the way," casting his eyes to Shayna, who looked splendid in a black dress, "on everything you've accomplished here. I couldn't have wish more for you."
"So, that's Admiral Picard?"
"What?" Worf turned to see Lieutenant Commander Grande beside him.
"That's Admiral Picard?
Worf drew himself up in pride. "Yes, that is he."
"He...looks kinda old, actually."
Scowling, Worf turned to the woman. "He is. He is over eighty years old."
Christine Grande bit her bottom lip, looking apprehensive.
"You look discommoded. What is the problem?"
"He just...I don't know. He looks old. Frail? Maybe it's because I've thought of him as a hero for so long – finally meeting him..."
Worf set himself squarely, and looked at the woman beside him.
"I have known beings who have underestimated Admiral Picard in the past, either stemming from a personal loss, or from believing him to be old and frail – the El-Aurian, Tolian Soran, the Borg Queen, Ru'afo of the Son'a, Praetor Shinzon of Remus. Gul Madred thought he could break him in mind and spirit, as did DaiMon Bok. None of them succeeded, and all were slain. The M'loi shall be no different, and Admiral Picard will triumph over them as he always has."
"But how can you be sure?"
Worf smiled.
"His tactics are bold and decisive, and his strategies are subtle and far reaching. Go into battle with him, watching him bring about the destruction of his enemies, and you will never have doubts about him again."
Grande nodded, and watched Worf move off. She watched as a tall red-headed woman walked over to her, and smiled.
"Hello, you must be...Christine Grande?"
"That's right."
"Hi, Christine, I'm Beverly Crusher. How are you enjoying the get together?"
Where have I heard that name before? I know I've heard that name...
"Well enough, thank you. It's been a while since I've been in the presence of so many senior officers, though. I think I may have drank a little too much."
The older woman laughed, a pleasant, chiming sound.
"Well, that is what New Years is all about. I've had a few, myself, so don't feel too bad. I don't think anyone here is entirely sober, so it's a good chance to get to know people, I think. How are you enjoying the Odysseus?"
Christine eyed this woman closer. Her flaming red hair was certainly the first thing you noticed about her, but it was her eyes that stuck with you – blue and piercing, humourous, but also sagely. Running her eyes over the face and body of the woman, Christine gleaned so more information about her. She was older than Grande, certainly, but by how much? She obviously take very good care of herself. She must have a fantastic doctor. Her breasts were generous, and well shaped by the clothes she had on, and her legs were very well toned. An athlete – or dancer? Certainly an attractive woman.
"I'm enjoying it fine., thanks. It took a little getting used to be in command, but I think I've settled in well."
The older woman laughed once more, and nodded slightly.
"I remember being in command for the first time. I've never had a ship of my own, but sitting in the big chair, middle of the bridge. There are few feelings like that. I might have enjoyed command, but medicine will always be-"
"You're Doctor Crusher! I knew I knew your name from somewhere!" Realisation hit Christine Grande like a thunderclap, and her smile brightened.
"Oh, I'm sorry. It was perhaps immodest of me, but I thought – well, I thought most people in the fleet knew who I was." The Doctor's face flushed a slight red.
"No- no, it's ok. I did know who you were, but I wasn't thinking straight – I haven't had real alcohol in such a long time, I guess it's gone to my head. So...you're the Admiral's...?" The smile on Christine Grande's face was on the lecherous side.
"...friend?" Beverly's face matched Christine Grande's. She had drunk a few too many glasses, and since Deanna was being taken up in a conversation with Reg and Shayna, Beverly felt like being a bit looser on the gag order.
Beverly sniggered, gag order.
"I've heard it to be a bit more than that, Doctor. I've heard that...well..."
"Well what, Commander?"
"You two were..." The Lieutenant Commander was blushing furiously, and was very grateful when a strong voice broke through the crowd –
"Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?"
The strong, clear voice of the Admiral was soon joined by those around him, and before long, the entire room erupted into the chorus:
"For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne!"
For a few moments, those in the room looked about fondly at each other, remembering the trials of the past year, and the hopes for the new year. Beverly strode towards him, and taking him by the chin, planted a kiss on the man's lips, to the wild cheers of those in the room.
She broke away, and whispered softly into his ear so that only he could hear.
"I have a few resolutions of my own this year, Jean-Luc. You're one of them."
The Admiral blushed, but smiled widely, and caught the eye of Riker, who arched his eyebrows in interest.
The next half an hour passed without incident, with beings from all over the Federation mingling, singing, laughing, and having a merry time.
So few people noticed a young Ensign wander through the room, and make directly for the Admiral, who was standing with Beverly, Deanna, Will, and Data.
"Sir? The OW asked me to hand this to you directly...?"
"Thank you, Ensign, let me-"
Picard's eyes widened, and a wolfish smiled played on his lips as he read what was written on the PADD with eyes alight with flames.
"Jean-Luc? What is it?"
"We've found them. We've found the prisoner camps. A place called Yal'ak'at. Around fifty hours away at high warp, three star systems away. Beverly, can you please administer analcohol to the senior staff. Ensign, I want a briefing in ten hours, alert the Captains, and Colonel Harris to meet in the Observation deck at that time."
"Aye, sir!"
The young man rushed off in search of his prey. Beverly's eyes connected with Jean-Luc's, and she smiled.
"You'll bring them home, Jean-Luc."
"We'll damned well try, Beverly."
Oberservation Lounge, USS Enterprise, 2 January 2382
"Well, sir. I respectfully disagree. We cannot guarentee the safety of the prisoners if we were to launch a full out attack in space. Instead-"
Colonel Harris was cut off by the captain of the Jalgur, a man named Halam.
"Colonel, we don't have the manpower nor the strength to launch a ground attack. If long range reports are any indication, there is over two hundred M'loi stationed on the moon, and they are entrenched. It would be throwing away lives to send in ground troops without hitting them from orbit first."
"And if the M'loi use the prisoners as a bargaining chip, what then?" The Captain of the Goliath added. Beverly Crusher spoke next.
"Or worse, begin to execute them if they start losing ground?"
"With all due respect, Doctor, you are hardly a military authority. The M'loi tactics-"
"..included inserting bombs into the bodies of our wounded in an attempt to kill the medical personnel on our ships, Captain. I am well acquainted with their tactics, thank you."
Picard held up a hand, silencing the argument around the table. The briefing had been going on for most of the evening, with information regarding the outpost, as well as tactical assessments and resource allocation. The Admiral was becoming quickly tired of it all, and they seemed to be getting nowhere.
"Captain Halam's points are well taken, but the Colonel is correct. This is a rescue operation, not a punitive one. If we wanted to simply destroy them, we'd bomb them from orbit without issue, but we can't. Now, some of you were present at Commander Barclay's demonstration of the STAR armour, and some of you weren't. In short, the suits should allow for a small team to infiltrate the installation prior to the attack, and disrupt the defences from the inside, while also maintaining the safety of the prisoners."
We are at present," Picard glanced at the chronometer on the table, "thirty six hours away from the target. Commander Barclay assures me that, with sufficient resources put towards the project, and enough aide from other engineering teams, perhaps five or six suits could be made ready in time for the attack. To that end, I am ordering Commander Barclay to do so, and Colonel Harris, put together a team of your best special forces soldiers, and allow them crash training on the suits. Captain La Forge, please assist Colonel Harris in this endeavour, as I believe you are the most experienced person with the suits thus far. All other Captains, please return to your ships, and the order of battle will be relayed to you once we are closer to the prison colony. Make it so."
The assembly got up from the table and thanked the Admiral for his hospitality while filing. Several stayed behind, including Beverly Crusher, Riker, Data, Geordi, Worf, and Colonel Harris.
"Sir, does this mean that we are abandoning the Joral system?"
"Indeed, Will. This system was only intended as a hiding place until reinforcements arrived. As you are here, it is time to move on. We should have the ships to break through, and then begin out travel back to inner Federation territory."
"Then what, sir?" Geordi asked.
"Then we win the war, Geordi." Picard said with a smile.