Chapter 7
Continued from Chapter 6:
As the away team materialized, Riker rushed into the transporter room. He came to a halt right in front of the transporter pad. With anxiety plainly visible on his face, he looked up at Picard, "Captain, Kurn just informed us about the assassination attempt. Are you all right?"
Vash spoke up before Picard could reassure his first officer, "It's all right, Will. I was there to save him."
"We don't know who the target was; however, there were no injuries, Number One," Picard said, stepping down off the transporter pad. As he extended a hand to help Vash down, he raised an eyebrow at her, "Except for one very unfortunate Romulan assassin."
"Yes, sir," Riker replied, still sounding a little worried but deciding to let it go for the moment. He turned his attention to Catherine, who still looked fresh and absolutely breathtaking. He smiled as he offered his hand to her. "May I, Ambassador?"
"Thank you, Commander," Fontaine smiled back at Riker as she accepted his hand and stepped down from the transporter pad. Then, looking over at the Picards, she addressed Vash, "I've been wondering about something. Where did the wife of a Federation starship captain get a ceremonial Klingon dagger and learn to throw it like Kahless the Unforgettable himself?"
Trying to sound as innocent as possible, Vash looked at the ceiling. "Before I settled down into domestic wedded bliss with Jean-Luc, I went through a slightly wild, rebellious period."
"Now there is an update from the department of the obvious," Picard offered dryly.
Vash turned to look at her husband and matched his tone, "Oh really and tell me President Kennedy, how was your trip to Dallas?"
"Am I to assume you're making a reference to my trip to Romulus?" Picard asked her.
"Of course I'm referring to your trip to Romulus." Vash threw her arms up in exasperation. "You are the captain of the Federation's flagship, one of Starfleet's top brass. What the hell were you thinking?"
"It was a mission, Vash," Picard sighed.
Vash put her hands on her hips, the action emphasized the way her gold gown molded itself the feminine hourglass lines of her figure. She scolded him, "A mission where you and Data went strolling through the streets of the capitol city of Romulus. Did it occur to you that you might bump into some, oh, I don't know, Romulans maybe? And just in case the fact has eluded you, my darling military strategist, they don't really like you very much!"
"Now what would ever give you that impression, ma chere?" Picard gently baited his wife. He just couldn't seem to help himself, she was beautiful when she was fired up about something. Besides, his trip to Romulus took place years ago.
"They've only attempted to kill you several times this week," she pointed out in an overly perky tone.
"They weren't very good attempts," Picard teased. Shaking his head, he chuckled, "What I want to know is how you always manage to turn things around so that I end up on the hot seat? I believe the conversation was originally about your Klingon dagger-broach, which is technically a concealed weapon. I think it would best for all concerned if I held on to it for a while."
"Oh phooey," Vash pouted as she handed the broach to her husband. "Nobody ever lets me have any fun."
Suddenly, Worf's deep voice reverberated from behind as he answered Deanna's last thought to him out loud, "I thought it was necessary."
An amused Catherine leaned into Riker and whispered "Do Worf and Deanna always discuss things half telepathically and half verbally?"
"Uh-huh. It tends to make things real confusing for us spectators," Riker whispered back to her. He looked up to see Data standing next to him.
"This has been brewing all night with the four of them," Data said quietly to Riker. With a small smile he added, "Popcorn, anyone?"
"Why don't we ask the Captain for his opinion?" Deanna asked Worf as she made her way off the platform and over to where Picard and Vash were standing. "I'm a highly trained professional. I don't think the fact that my mate happens to be in a powerful position necessitates my having a security guard. Don't you agree, Captain?"
"Dee," Vash laid a hand on her friend's shoulder. "I think now would be a good time to remind you that I haven't been anywhere off-ship without a security guard since my bachelorette party."
"Counselor, this sounds like a personal issue between you and Mr. Worf," the captain sounded amused. "And with the exception of Lieutenant Lar, Vash managed to ditch every last one of those security guards at one point or another."
"What makes Lar the exception?" Fontaine wondered half-aloud.
"Ever try to ditch a telepathic security guard, Catherine?" Vash asked.
"No," Fontaine shook her head. "But I can see where that might be difficult to accomplish."
"Of course, I wasn't the one the Romulans tried to assassinate tonight," Vash reiterated pointedly
"We're not sure if I was the intended target," Picard tried again to reassure her. Underneath her impish attitude, he could tell that recent events really had frightened her.
"I'm sure, Jean-Luc," Vash insisted firmly. "The Romulans were after you. You've been a thorn in their side for a number of years, maybe someone is bucking for a promotion. Killing you would go over very well with Romulan high command. We could even be dealing with a personal grudge. You've defeated Tomalak in battle on several occasions. Earlier tonight, Tomalak made a remark to me about my not always having your uniform to hide behind. Thinking back, maybe he was planning on you being dead by the end of the night."
Picard knew his wife could be impulsive at times, but she was also extremely intelligent and perceptive. Suddenly all business, Picard turned to Lar, "Lieutenant, did you pick up on anything?"
"It will take me at least a couple hours of meditation to sort everything out, sir," Lar replied. "While Tomalak was talking to Mrs. Picard, I detected no obvious threat toward you from his mind; however, he was very focused on something regarding Mrs. Picard. That is why Commander Data and I intervened."
"Exactly what about Vash?" Picard pressed.
Vash watched as Lar shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Feeling it was time to save her security guard, Vash spoke up, "Probably about a dozen things you'd find referenced in that lovely leather-bound, illustrated copy of the Kama Sutra you keep on your bedside table."
"Thank you, ma 'am," Lar said quietly to Vash, sounding relieved.
"Anytime, Geoffery," she smiled at him.
Picard sighed as his eyes quickly traveled over Vash's entire frame, taking in how the glittering gown revealed her shapely silhouette. Tomalak's reaction to Vash was not surprising. What was that line from the old American ditty Riker teased him with the night before he got married? 'Never make a pretty woman your wife?' Picard glanced around the room at his officers, "I will want reports tomorrow at the senior staff meeting. Ambassador, you're more than welcome to join us tomorrow."
"Thank you, Captain," Fontaine replied. "I believe I will."
"Mr. Lar, I would also like you to join the senior staff meeting tomorrow with your report," Picard said turning to the lieutenant.
"Yes Sir."
"Oh and, Lieutenant," Picard added, "about Gowron. You perceived him as a possible threat, and without any regard for who he was, you acted."
"I was concerned about Mrs. Picard's safety," Lar said hesitantly. "I meant no disrespect to the Chancellor, Sir."
"Of course not, Lieutenant, your reaction is precisely why I've chosen you as my wife's security guard," Picard smiled at his officer approvingly. "Good work."
"Thank you, sir," Lar smiled.
As Vash listened to Jean-Luc and Lar, she thought about the evening's events. Several times that night Lar had interposed himself between her and a possible danger. Occasions like that were rare; however, they reminded her that her security guard was there to protect her, with his life if necessary. Vash looked up at the lieutenant, "Geoffery?"
"Yes ma'am?"
"I really do appreciate what you do. Thank you," she told him sincerely.
"Anytime, ma'am," Lar told her with a chivalrous nod of his head.
Picard felt Vash take his arm and lean against him with her head on his shoulder. He got the hint. "It's been a long day, dismissed."
Lar and Data said their goodnights and made their way out of the room. Worf and Deanna followed, still mentally discussing the night's events. Fontaine looked up at Riker, "Walk me home?"
"It would be my pleasure," he replied taking her hand. "Goodnight everyone."
....................................
A furious Taibak strode into Tomalak's personal chambers. As Tomalak took a step toward him, Taibak sent him sprawling to the floor with a powerful backhand. The Tal Shiar officer's voice was hard and cold. "How dare you make a move on Picard without my permission! Stupidity! On more than one occasion now you have jeopardized this mission. Not only have you demonstrated your ignorance by attempting to kill Picard, you have demonstrated your incompetence by FAILING! Anyone else with your incompetence would have been eliminated long ago; your rank will not protect you much longer. The entire Klingon High Council, including our allies, is now talking about the bravery of the Federation Captain's wife as she honorably defended her mate from a treacherous and dishonorable Romulan assassin."
As he sat on the floor, a trickle of green blood ran down Tomalak's chin from his lower lip. He glared up at Taibak, "How was I supposed to know the Terran bitch would be armed?"
"Obviously, you didn't read past Vash Picard's physical description in the rather lengthy dossier on her our intelligence provided for you," Taibak replied with disgust. "She caught the attention of the Tal Shiar long before she married Picard. An expert in interstellar archaeology, her field methods are considered very unorthodox. Like her husband, she has an amazing ability for survival. Unlike her husband, she plays by the rules only when it suits her. This makes her just as dangerous as, if not more so than, her husband. She is well versed in the customs and languages of dozens of cultures, including Klingon. Tonight, she armed herself in a way she knew the Klingons would consider appropriate even honorable for a woman. That brooch was a traditional piece of jewelry that concealed a woman's dagger. In many ways the Picards remind me of a Terran animal called a lion. The humans refer to it as the 'King of the Jungle,' even though it is the female lion that hunts and makes the kill."
"Your point, Taibak."
"You should take one lesson away from this disaster. If you are going to take aim at a Picard, you would be wise to have both of them in your sights." With that, Taibak turned on his heel and walked out the door.
................................
"Jean-Luc, help me with this fastener." Vash came out of their bedroom, struggling with the back clasps of her gown. "Jean-Luc?"
"Not just yet, darling." Picard turned away from the control panel as soft, romantic music began playing in the background. "There's something I need to do first."
Picard straightened his uniform jacket and walked across the living room toward Vash. He stopped just in front of her and gave Vash a courtly bow, "May I have this dance, Madam Picard?"
"Of course, Jean-Luc," Vash answered hesitantly. "But what? Why?"
"Shhh," Picard placed a finger across her full lips. "This is something I promised myself." With that Picard took her into his arms for a slow, quiet dance in the dim starlight coming in the bay windows.
Vash settled into the strong warmth of his embrace, laid her head on his shoulder and gazed out into the starlight. "I wonder if Catherine got Will back to her quarters all right?"
Picard pulled back slightly and looked down at his wife. "I really don't want to think about anyone else for the rest of the night," he said tenderly and then he leaned down to seal her lips in a passionate, heated kiss.
After long moments, Vash broke the kiss and whispered, "neither do I."
.........................................
The next evening, Vash and Picard sat down together at dinner. Without looking up from the PADD he was working on, he muttered, "Uh huh."
'He hasn't heard a word I've said,' Vash thought as she pushed up the sleeves of her pale pink cashmere sweater dress and looked across the dinner table at her husband. She studied his features and kept her tone neutral, "So when he came back into the lab I said, 'I would not like them here or there. I would not like them anywhere. I do not like green eggs and ham. I do not like them, Sam-I-am.' "
"Uh huh," he said with a perfunctory nod, never looking up.
Usually something a little nonsensical, like Dr. Seuss, is enough to get his attention. She raised an eyebrow impishly "Jean-Luc, I'm having an affair with an Andorian pirate."
"That's nice, dear," Picard answered, totally impervious to what she just said.
"Jean-Luc," Vash chuckled as she reached across the table and laid her hand on one of his. "You haven't heard a single thing I've said."
"Of course I have, I've heard . . ." Picard stopped midsentence when he looked up to see his wife slowly shake her head. Her bemused expression was as soft as the cashmere she was wearing. He gave her a conciliatory smile as he put down the PADD. "Was I that obvious?"
"You be the judge. You just said that it was nice that I was having an affair with an Andorian pirate," Vash informed him as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
"I would say that's fairly blatant," he admitted with a resigned sigh. "And, I apologize."
"It's all right," she replied, indulgently.
As he ran a finger lightly across her small palm, his expression and voice became more troubled. "I'm somewhat preoccupied by the situation down on Qo'nos; however, that is no excuse for my inattention." He brushed an apologetic kiss on the back of her hand. "Mea culpa, darling."
"Do you want to tell me about it?" Vash asked quietly.
Releasing her hand, Picard sat back in his chair and tugged on the waist of his uniform jacket. "Counselor Troi and Lieutenant Lar both concur that Taibak's mind is extremely well disciplined and he is most likely an agent for the Tal Shair. All Lar could get from Taibak at the reception was images of mass destruction. Ambassador Fontaine and Gowron have both had numerous reports about the Romulans threatening the undecided families. The threat is always the same; the Romulans have and will use a weapon that will destroy Qo'nos if the vote does not go their way."
Vash stood up and walked around the table to stand behind him. She started to massage his neck and shoulders, "Are you sure this 'doomsday' device really exists? Could the Romulans be bluffing?"
Picard briefly closed his eyes as he felt Vash's small hands skillfully working the tensely knotted muscles. "Well, our scans haven't picked up anything. That doesn't really rule out its existence, though. The Tal Shiar are not known for bluffing and Klingons do not capitulate easily."
"I see your point," Vash replied as she used the heel of her hand to apply pressure to a fairly nasty knot in his right shoulder. She felt the knot dissipate. "That feel better?"
"Yes, dear, much better. Thank you," Picard replied picking the PADD back up.
Vash spent the next hour mulling over what Jean-Luc had told her. As she sat on the couch filing her nails, she had an idea. It was fairly simple and straight forward, the best ideas usually were; however, she knew Jean-Luc would hate it. She knew what his first response would be. She could almost hear him say it; 'You are out of your mind!' Deciding that there was no time like the present, she got up and headed for their bedroom.
As she stepped into the bedroom, she noticed her husband's uniform jacket casually tossed on the bed. Looking down she saw that Jean-Luc, stripped to the waist, was doing push-ups on the floor at the foot of their bed. Jean-Luc's physical perfection never ceased to take her breath away. His forearms were bulging under a glistening sheen of sweat as he pounded out one push-up after another. The muscles along his back rippled and bunched as he worked at a steady pace, up and down, effortlessly graceful beneath the tightly leashed power in his lithe form. In fact, one might say a little too effortless. 'No pain. no gain,' Vash thought as she sauntered over, sat down on his back and continued to file her nails.
'She's up to something,' Picard thought, adjusting for her added weight without slowing his tempo.
"Jean-Luc, I've been thinking," Vash said as she held up one hand for inspection.
"Oh God, no," Picard grunted with mock horror between pushups. "Anything but that."
In response to that, she bounced once on his back. A smile of sadistic glee crossed her face when she heard his muffled 'oomph.'
"All right, what?" he sighed.
"Do you remember the broach I wore to the reception last night?" Vash asked a little too casually.
"Chere, everyone remembers the broach you wore to the reception last night," Picard pointed out, trying to ignore the tickle of cashmere on his bare back.
"Well, anyway," she continued as nonchalantly as she could. "It was given to me by a colleague, who happens to be the current head of the Klingon Antiquities Institute."
"Does this colleague have a name?" he inquired, as he continued with his workout.
"Karok, Son of Valhal." Vash waited for a reaction to the name. She didn't have long to wait.
"Vash," Picard, astounded, paused in his push-ups. "The Valhal family is one of the oldest and most powerful families on Qo'nos. If they were on the ruling council they would probably own the planet."
"I do believe I remember Karok mentioning something to me about that. Of course, he's now the head of that powerful family with all its connections." Vash's voice had an undeniable lilt to it. "I'm sure he would know what the Romulans are holding over the undecided member's heads. And if someone were to speak to him privately . . ."
"Do you think he would tell me?" he asked as he resumed his push-ups.
"Not a chance, but he might tell me." Vash started to speak faster and her voice became determined. She had to get him to at least hear her out. "I'm going to have to go back down to Qo'nos alone to meet with him." Suddenly, she felt herself being dumped on the floor as Picard jumped up and stalked across the room.
"You are out of your mind!" Spinning on his heel, he glared at her. "There is no way you are going back down to Qo'nos. And the alone part isn't even worth discussing."
"Jean-Luc be reasonable. Why not?" Vash demanded from where she had landed on the floor. Her hands rubbing her slightly sore back end.
"Why not?" Picard parroted back to her. "I'll tell you why not!" he snapped. He took a deep breath to gather himself. He knew she was trying to help, but the very idea of her going to Qo'nos alone was enough to panic him. He walked back over to her. "Here," he said gently as he offered a hand to help her up from the floor. He sat her on the edge of their bed, his tone was still gentle but firm. "I had reservations about taking you with me to the reception last night because a trip to Qo'nos is precarious even under the best of circumstances. With the addition of political instability, the Romulans, and a possible weapon of mass destruction, another trip to Qo'nos is clearly unthinkable."
"I'm not talking about a 'walk-about' tour of the capitol city," Vash informed him, straightening out her dress. "All I'm asking is to beam straight to Karok's office for about an hour or so. Then I'll beam back. You can keep a constant transporter lock on me. You need this information and this is the only way you're going to get it."
"No," Picard said firmly. Exasperated, he added, "Do you really think I'm going to let you do something this risky?"
"I can take care of myself," Vash persisted. "I'm the only one who can do this."
"The answer is no," Picard stated again. "And I really don't want to fight about this."
"We're not fighting," Vash insisted, as she flopped back to lay on bed and stare at the ceiling. "We are discussing my impending, albeit brief, return to the planet surface."
"You are not going back to Qo'nos." Picard's quiet command was like steel. "I am still Captain of this vessel and I forbid it." As soon as he said it he knew that particular Picard Maneuver had been a major tactical error.
Vash stood up and was now standing toe to toe with her husband. Glaring up into his face she said slowly, each word a bullet, "Now . . . we . . . are . . fighting!" Taking a deep breath, she launched into her tirade. "You forbid it! Get over yourself, Captain! How dare you even try to pull rank on me in our own bedroom. Save the command theatrics for the bridge. I am not the least bit impressed with that smug, pompous, arrogant, French aristocratic attitude. Out there you are captain, in here those rank pips don't mean squat!" As if to prove her point, she grabbed his uniform jacket, with the rank pips on the collar, off the bed, balled it up and threw it out the bedroom door.
Picard clenched his fists at his sides. She could be so infuriating. If she would only be reasonable, he wouldn't have to pull rank. "This could be extremely dangerous. Do you know what you're asking me?"
"I know what I'm not asking you," Vash snapped at him "I'm not asking you to wait three days for news from me from behind enemy lines. I'm not asking you to sit helplessly on the bridge through a battle where I'm on an enemy ship. And I'm not asking you to watch as the Romulans take pot-shots at a shuttle I'm traveling in."
"What if the Romulans attempt another assassination?" Picard shot back.
"And pray tell, who stopped the last one?" Vash retorted pointedly.
"It was a lucky throw." He knew that was a lame shot, but he was quickly running out of arguments and issuing that order hadn't even phased her.
"Ohhh, that's beneath you, Jean-Luc," Vash fumed at him, her hands on her hips. How dare he stand there looking so smug and so sexy. "Luck had nothing to do with it. I never miss, three sheets to the wind on Romulan ale and I can still hit a Muldarian dragonfly at a hundred paces. Korak was a very good teacher and a very good friend. All I'm asking is to visit an old friend who may have some helpful information."
"That," he hissed pointing at the broach, his eyes never leaving hers, "is not the gift a Klingon Warrior gives a friend and colleague."
"You're right." Vash raised an eyebrow and taunted in a flippant tone. "Karok is a colleague and dear friend, with whom I had a brief, intense, physical relationship. Satisfied? Or do you want intimate details? Jealousy really doesn't become you."
Picard stiffened visibly. "That is not the issue here, and you know it!" The issue is your safety. I saw your eyes after you threw that thing. You have never thrown it at anyone before last night, have you?"
"I threw it at Q, repeatedly," she hurled back at him.
"Vash," Picard gasped, looking somewhat stunned. "You could have -
"What? Killed him? In your dreams," Vash countered impishly. "Although, there was that one time when he pulled it out of his groin and squeaked, 'That's not very ladylike.'" Vash watched as Jean-Luc's anger melted away right before her eyes. In fact, he was trying very hard not to smile, but amusement lit his grey eyes. Giving him her most devilish grin, she teased, "Don't you dare smile, Captain. We're fighting remember."
"I really hate it when you do that," Picard complained to her as a small smile crossed his face. "You could give a man emotional whiplash." He looked down at the lovely, delicate woman in front of him, who, he had just been reminded, was able to handle Q. Reaching out to stroke her cheek, he asked, "Do you trust Karok?"
"Yes," Vash told him earnestly. "Jean-Luc, Klingon society may be violent by human standards, but Klingons live by a very strict code of honor. Most would rather die then be found dishonorable. Due to our past relationship and our current friendship, Karok is bound by honor to protect me."
"As well as the oath he made when he gave you the broach," Picard added meaningfully.
Vash nodded. "It's along the lines of a knight promising to be a lady's champion, but yes, it is a lifelong promise. Even if both are later mated to others."
"You will transport directly to his office. I want a constant transporter lock on you and I want Dr. Crusher to implant a subcutaneous transponder on you." Picard couldn't just agree to her idea without adding one extra condition of his own. Vash might start expecting complete surrender from him all the time.
"You caved! I can't believe you caved so easily," Vash cooed, resting her hands on the bare, masculine slope of his powerful shoulders.
"You're asking me to let go of you," Picard continued quietly. He pulled her into his arms, the soft cashmere tickling his skin as he pressed her supple curves tightly against him. "I don't want to let go of you."
"I don't want you to let go, ever," Vash whispered as she snuggled in closer. "Just relax your grip a little. I'll be fine. Trust me, Jean-Luc, I have no qualms about hiding behind you when the universe gets too much for me to handle."
As her hands moved over the corded strength of his shoulders and upper arms, Vash raised her face to press her lips to his in a sweet, tender kiss.
"I'll try. It just sometimes seems that your idea of when the universe is too much for you to handle and mine are at different ends of the galactic spectrum. You go ahead and get ready for bed. I need to do the ship's log. I won't be long." Picard dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and headed out into the living room. Own his way out, he stopped and bent down to pick up his uniform jacket from the floor. Turning around, he gave Vash an adoring smile as he threw the jacket back on the bed. Then he continued on into the living room.
Sitting behind his desk, Picard had just finished the ship's daily log. Behind him, he could hear Vash moving around in the bedroom. He was about to turn off the desk's computer terminal, when he was struck by an idea. "Computer, access all files on Karok, son of Valhal, current head of the Klingon Antiquities Institute." In no time, the information appeared on the screen. As Picard read the information, he became more impressed. Karok had made some important finds and most of these finds were made under very hazardous conditions. That wasn't too surprising, Klingons somehow managed to turn everything into a battle.
After reading the bio, Picard sat back with his hands steepled, index fingers resting against his lips. He contemplated the screen, finally he spoke, "Computer, display most current visual for Karok." An enormous Klingon, about Riker's height with Worf's muscular build, in full armor holding a bat'telh filled the screen. However, this Klingon was different from any Picard had ever seen, Karok was, by human standards, very handsome. With his olive skin tone, jet black eyes, strong square jawline, and well defined cheek bones, he looked like an ancient Roman legionnaire. To Picard, the most shocking thing was that Karok was totally and completely bald, Picard briefly pondered the thought that Vash might have a secret fetish. In the visual, the bat'telh, a fairly good sized weapon, looked almost diminutive in Karok's massive hands. Picard stared at the visual on the screen, but he wasn't seeing it. In his head was the image of Vash crushed in Karok's powerful embrace as the Klingon's large hands moved over the supple curves of her delicate frame. His jaw clenched tightly in response to his own mind's invention.
"So, Jean-Luc Picard has a jealous streak," came the amused feminine whisper. "What would people say?"
Picard startled at Vash's soft voice in his ear. She was standing behind him, holding the back of his chair to keep him from turning around. It seemed as if she had read his mind and knew exactly what he was thinking. How the hell did she do that? He realized he had been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. There was only one thing to do. Lie. "I, uh, was simply doing a security check, nothing more and I'm hardly a jealous man." Deciding the best defense was a good offense, he cajoled her gently, "If I reacted vehemently every time a man made eyes at you the galaxy would be littered with dead bodies; among the numerous corpses would be almost every one of my single male officers, Dr. Bashir from DS-9, several fellow ship's captains and more than a few admirals."
"I didn't say you were a jealous man," Vash corrected him, leaning down to briefly brush her lips against the bare skin of his shoulder. "I said you have a jealous streak. It's small, but very specific, it only seems to surface when you are confronted with any of my former flames. Not that you have any reason for concern."
"And I suppose," he quipped, looking up over his shoulder at her playful expression, "that if our roles were reversed you wouldn't have any problem at all with this."
"I had no problem when you went out to lunch with Captain Phillipa Louvois," she informed him sweetly.
"Captain Louvois is a fellow officer."
"With whom you had a brief, intense, physical relationship. And this is the same Captain Louvois," Vash gave him a devilish grin and let go of the back of the chair, "that only one week before we were to be married, sent you a communiqué. In it, she advised you not to jump into such a hasty marriage."
"You knew about that?" Picard turned around to face her. He noticed Vash had wrapped herself up in one of his bathrobes. Even though she was only a few inches shorter than himself, her much smaller frame was almost lost in the white terrycloth of the robe. He eyed her with amusement as she strolled across the room to the easy chair and sat down. "Not counting your peignoirs, you have at least eight robes, I have two. Why do you insist on wearing mine?"
"Because it's yours," Vash said simply, as if she was stating the obvious She ran her hand over the Starfleet emblem embroidered on the collar and snuggled into the robe's softness. "And don't change the subject. We were talking about Louvois, of course, I knew about the communiqué."
"We weren't talking about Louvois, we were talking about your bald, Klingon, Marc Antony." Picard stood up and walked around to lean against the front of the desk. Crossing his arms, he regarded her expectantly.
"So, what does Napoleon have to worry about from Marc Antony?" Vash chided playfully. Feeling like a naughty tease, she took great pleasure in Jean-Luc's reaction to Karok. She returned his gaze. He was still naked from the waist up, gloriously so. The sight of his lean, muscular build had been taunting her ever since she had walked in on his workout. She admired the way the bulges of his upper arms flexed when he crossed his arms over his chest.
Picard reached across the desk to shut off the computer. "Vash, you're a beautiful, desirable, young woman," he told her, his voice intently serious. Then, shaking his head with dry amusement, he added, "So much so, that I sometimes wonder what you're doing in my bed?"
"Turn around," Vash requested seductively.
Picard turned back around to face Vash and his jaw dropped to join his robe on the floor. She had nothing on, well almost nothing. There was a sweet, powder-blue babydoll that hung just low enough to cover her breasts from his gaze. The little nothing stopped just above her midriff, giving him a tantalizing view of her delicate navel. It was trimmed with ruffles and lace with little pink rosettes down the front. The matching scrap of an excuse for panties was little better with the matching rosettes drawing his eyes hypnotically downward and thong straps skimming her trim hips.
Delighted, she watched his eyes go wide with surprise then harden with desire as they traveled the length of her body. Very aware that he watched her every move, she slowly sauntered over to stand in front of him. The nightie swayed provocatively as she moved, brushing her midriff. "Just a little something I picked up at the last Starbase."
" 'Little' being the operative word here," Picard noted in a voice that was huskier than it had been just moments before.
"If you don't like it," Vash teased, the intense steel grey of his eyes clearly displayed the effect she was having on him. "I can go change." She started to turn from him.
"I didn't say that." He reached out and caught her, both hands encircling her naked waistline just below the nightie.
So, you do like it." Vash looked up at him coyly through her lashes. She let her hands move up the corded muscles of his arms to rest on his broad shoulders.
"You know damn well I do," Picard muttered hoarsely, using his large hands to span her tiny waist. He leaned down to let his lips capture hers in a fiercely possessive kiss. Slowly, his strong hands slid up the smooth, bare skin of her stomach to rest just below the full curves of her breasts.
Goosebumps puckered her satiny skin from the thrilling heat of his hands stroking her cool skin. Ardently returning his kiss, she felt him gently cup her breasts in his hands. She arched into the heaviness as his thumbs caressed the hardened peaks rhythmically. Finally she broke the kiss, her head falling back and a soft moan escaping her. Her hands clenched and unclenched, mindlessly massaging his powerful neck muscles. She took in deep, gasping breaths, all too aware of how her breasts pushed up against his bare chest with each inhale. One of his hands slid around to the small of her back pulling her supple curves even tighter to him. His other hand slid to the back of her head, pulling her into another deep kiss.
"Oh, Jean-Luc," Vash gasped when they finally broke off for air. "The things you do to me are unbelievable. You are truly one of a kind."
Picard leaned down to nuzzle the side of her face. Quietly, he whispered in her ear "And fortunately for the universe, so are you, my love."
When Vash leaned back to protest in mock indignation, Picard placed two fingers against her lips, "I love you just the way you are. Now, would my one-of-a-kind wife care to scrub my back?"
Raising an eyebrow, she appeared to think his proposition over before cocking her head sideways, "I thought you'd never ask."
............................................
Early the next afternoon, Vash walked into transporter room one. She was hardly surprised to see her husband standing behind the transporter console. Amused, she quipped, "The ship's captain running the transporter, are we having staff problems today?"
"No. I just thought I would handle this transport myself," Picard explained, his gaze traveling over his wife as she walked over to stand on the other side of the console. She looked wonderful . . . too wonderful. She was wearing the same sapphire-blue, linen suit she had been wearing when he returned from the Romulan ship. The look of the suit was softened by the tailoring which gently skimmed every curve of her figure. The skirt fell just above her knees, setting off her long, shapely legs.
Noticing the troubled expression on Jean-Luc's face, Vash glanced down at herself as she asked, "Is something wrong?"
"No, you look lovely, that suit is very flattering," Picard replied. "I'm just a little surprised that you chose to wear one of your best outfits. I guess I expected you to be wearing one of your work jumpsuits."
"Those frumpy things! Not in this lifetime!" Vash rolled her eyes, before teasing, "No self-respecting woman goes to see an old flame without making sure she looks absolutely drop dead gorgeous. After all, you have to make sure he knows what he missed out on."
"Is that also the reason for wearing a piece of jewelry he gave you?" Picard asked, his voice a touch tighter than he meant it to be as he gestured to her shoulder.
"You mean like this broach I have on, the one I used to save your life the other night. This is just silly and you don't need me here for this conversation," Vash retorted, becoming annoyed. She began to turn to head toward the transporter when Jean-Luc gently caught her by left wrist. Turning back to face him, she huffed indignantly, "And yes, I'm wearing my wedding ring."
"Of course you are, chere. I'm sorry," Picard sealed his heartfelt apology with a courtly kiss to the back of her hand.
"You should be," Vash sighed, she could never stay angry with him when he turned into Sir Galahad. She squeezed his hand gently, her voice then turned serious, "A half hour?"
Picard let go of her hand and nodded, "Thirty minutes - no more."
Vash walked over and took her place on the transporter. "I'll be back within a half an hour."
"Yes, you will," Picard stated flatly "Energizing."
After seeing that Vash had safely materialized in Karok's office, Picard glanced at the time. He sighed, it was going to be a long half hour.
......................................
Karok watched as a familiar form materialized in his office. Vash looked just as he had remembered her. Her beauty had made her seem to him at first as nothing more than a hothouse flower. He had been mistaken. Her delicate frame and feminine silhouette belied her surprising resourcefulness. He quickly learned that she was a force to be reckoned with. His gaze traveled over her appreciatively as he greeted her simply, "K' Plah Vash."
Vash smiled at the sound of Karok's deep baritone. She quickly realized that he was the reason Worf's voice had always seemed so familiar to her. "K' Plah, Karok. Thank you for taking the time to see me."
"I had the time to take. You've done well for yourself, my enchanting Ate," Karok answered, using the nickname he had given her years ago. "A chair on the Federation's Archaeology Council, heading the archaeology department on the Federation's flagship and mated to one of the Federation's most respected warriors."
Vash exhaled sharply at the nickname Karok had insisted on giving her, being referred to as the goddess of rashness was not exactly a compliment. Not that she minded the goddess part, but she definitely didn't like to think of herself as a woman who led men to ruin and disaster. Mustering her most charming smile, she replied, "You've done very well yourself, Karok. The director of the Klingon Antiquities Institute as well as heading your powerful family with all its connections. Which is why I'm here. I need your help."
"I heard about the events at the Great Hall the other night. It would seem that you remember how to use my gift," Karok gestured to the broach Vash wore on her shoulder. "It would also seem you remember its significance as well."
"I had a very good teacher," she told him.
"So Ate, what can I possibly help you with that your very powerful mate cannot?" the Klingon inquired as he sat down behind his desk.
"Information," Vash answered succinctly as she walked over to stand in front of Karok's massive desk. "What threat are the Romulans holding over the undecided families?"
"Who wants to know? You, Ate, or the Arbiter of Succession?" Karok asked pointedly.
"Since the Arbiter of Succession is my mate, there is no distinction," Vash countered. Not the least bit intimidated by the size of the Klingon in front of her, she leaned against the desk toward him. "Dammit Karok! Help me to help him. We're talking about a warrior who managed to take out the Borg. I'm sure he'll have no trouble handling whatever this Tal Shiar agent has planned, or do you think K'mpec picked Jean-Luc to be the Arbiter of Succession because he liked his hairline?"
"You Terran females are a cold blooded lot," Karok sighed as he ran a large hand over his own smooth scalp. His tone turning serious, he continued in a low voice, "My family is not on the Council, so the Romulans have not approached me directly; however, I've been told the Romulans have shown the undecided families data on a weapon they have that will stop all nuclear fusion in the Qo'nos star. The Romulans say if the vote goes in favor of a treaty with the Federation, they will destroy the Klingon Empire by stabbing her through her very heart."
"Merde," Vash whispered her husband's favorite curse as she instantly thought of the Tox-Uthat. Jean-Luc destroyed the twenty-seventh century weapon when they found it on Risa. However, what if the weapon had somehow managed to survive and the Romulans had gotten a hold of it. She needed to get back to the ship, pronto. She straightened back up, "Thank you, Karok."
"Tell me, Vash, just how did you convince your mate to allow you to beam down alone to see me?" Karok asked with a smile.
"Allow me?" Vash sounded incredulous.
"Rumor has it, Picard never lets you off his ship with out a security guard. I've often wondered if he is trying to protect you from the Universe or the Universe from you," Karok teased.
"A little of both, my friend, a little of both," Vash quipped giving him a sly smile. She tapped her communicator, "Vash Picard to Enterprise, one to beam up."
" K' Plah, Ate," Karok said, baiting Vash one last time with the nickname before she disappeared into the transporter beam.
.........................................
In the transporter room, Riker idly leaned against the transporter console and watched his commanding officer's hand hover over the controls. "She's only been down there about ten minutes. You beam her up now and she'll be fit to be tied."
"Agreed," Picard sighed as he moved his hand away from the controls.
Riker glanced at the transporter pad. "I'm sure it was a difficult decision to let her go down to see Karok. You must be feeling . . ."
"I have absolutely no reason to be jealous, Number One," Picard good-naturedly admonished his first officer.
"Of course not, sir, however, I'm sure you must be somewhat apprehensive about her being on Qo'nos without a security guard," Riker replied, noting the pained expression on Picard's face. It was very rare for Picard to react by jumping to conclusions. It reminded Riker that even the most powerful man was at the mercy of a woman he loved.
"My apologies, Number One," Picard wearily rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Not necessary, sir," Riker gave Picard a conspiratorial smile. "At least it was just me. I'll forget you said it. Deanna, on the other hand, would have jumped on that like it was a Thalian chocolate mousse."
"Merde," Picard muttered as he thought about his ship's counselor's reaction to that slip.
"I warned you not to marry a pretty woman," Riker quipped, referring a long standing joke between the two of them that dated back to the night before Picard and Vash were married.
Vash's voice came over the conn, "Vash Picard to Enterprise, one to beam up."
As Picard began to work the transporter he heard a deep male voice over Vash's open commlink. "K' Plah, Ate."
Vash materialized on the transporter pad. Without missing a beat, she strode off the pad and toward the door of the transporter room barking orders at her husband. "Jean-Luc, have the Ambassador and the senior staff meet us in the observation lounge. We may have a big problem. "
Riker looked at the captain for confirmation. Sounding bemused, Picard nodded, "Number One, call a senior staff meeting and ask the Ambassador to join us."
"Aye, sir," Riker replied as he followed the Picards out of the room. As the three of them approached the turbolift, they saw Data waiting for them.
"The bridge, sir?" Data said, holding the door of the turbolift for the captain, Vash and Riker.
"Yes, Mr. Data, thank you," Picard replied as they entered the lift. He turned to his wife and teased, "I take it your meeting with Karok was successful, Ate."
"It was," Vash huffed as she rolled her eyes. Leaning against one of the walls of the lift indignantly, she continued, "I can't believe he had the audacity to call me by that horrid nickname. I know I can be a bit impulsive, but that hardly makes me Ate."
"Ate?" Riker asked, curiously.
"Accessing," Data blinked as he accessed the proper file. A smile spread across the android's face as he reported, "According to ancient Earth mythology, Ate was the Greek goddess of rashness and infatuation. She was known for leading men to ruin."
"Would you have me stand idly by as she led you to your destruction?" Picard's voice became almost wistful. Seeing Vash's questioning expression, he explained, "Something Q once asked me - about you."
"The praying mantis has the right idea," Vash said pointedly eyeing Jean-Luc. Striding past her confused husband, she marched onto the bridge and headed toward the door of the observation lounge.
"Could Vash be referring to the fact that immediately following copulation, the female praying mantis quickly kills and devours the male?" Data inquired.
"Ouch," Riker quipped under his breath.
Picard raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure that wasn't the reference she meant."
"You hope," Riker said with a grin.
.................................
Picard, Riker, and Data followed Vash into the observation lounge. The rest of the senior staff and Ambassador Fontaine were already seated around the conference table. Picard sat down in the chair at the head of the table with Riker and Data taking the two open seats to his right.
Vash sat down in the empty chair on her husband's left. Her voice was filled with trepidation as she asked, "Jean-Luc, are you sure you destroyed the Tox Uthat back on Risa?"
Picard's eyebrow shot up in surprise. When they found the artifact many years before, he had destroyed it using transporter code 14. "You and I both watched the Tox Uthat explode in the transporter beam. Why?"
Vash anxiously pushed a stay strand of hair back into place. "Karok told me the Romulans have shown the undecided families data on a weapon they have that will stop all nuclear fusion in the Qo'nos star. All I could think of was the Tox Uthat, after all, it was a quantum phase inhibitor designed to do that very thing."
"I can see why you thought of the Uthat, but I'm positive it was destroyed," Picard assured his wife.
"We both know the Vorgons are capable of time travel," she reminded him. "What if they came back and tried again, this time retrieving the Uthat?"
"Let's not get into temporal theories, I'll grant that it is always a possibility. However, I doubt they would have allowed it to fall into the hands of the Romulans," Picard replied. With his next thoughts came memories of Amargosa, Veridian, the nexus, and the destruction of the Enterprise D. Turning toward Data, he asked, "Mr. Data, could the Romulans have found away to sufficiently stabilize a trilithium compound to make a weapon?"
"Similar to the one fashioned by Dr. Soran and used to destroy the Amargosa star?" Data inquired. Seeing Picard's confirming nod, he continued, "Unknown, sir. However, it is certainly within the realm of possibility."
"Don't tell me that there is actually someone stupid enough to play around with trilithium?" Vash gasped, sounding shocked.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Dr. Crusher quipped.
Ambassador Fontaine glanced over at Vash, "This Karok you talked to - would he happen to be Karok, Son of Valhal?"
"Yes, he's an old friend and colleague," Vash explained.
With a low whistle, Fontaine added, "And part of that slightly wild, rebellious period before you settled down into domestic wedded bliss."
"Exactly," Vash chuckled. She began to push herself back from the table. "Now if all of you will excuse me, I'm going to run, not walk, back to my little science lab."
"And miss all the fun?" Fontaine asked conspiratorially.
"Ambassador, I have learned a very important life lesson living aboard this ship," Vash explained with a knowing glint in her eye. "Ignorance is bliss, especially, when my husband gets that expression on his face that tells me he is about to undertake some sort of rash, very Captain Kirk-like action."
Picard watched the doors close behind his wife as she left the room. He turned to Worf, "Mr. Worf, I will need to speak to Gowron personally. Please hail Qo'nos and arrange a meeting with him."
"Aye, sir."
....................................
Leaving Gowron's chamber, Picard walked through the passageways of the Klingon Great Hall. He had expected the Klingon Chancellor to be angry; however, he was a bit startled to see Gowron chop his desk in two with his bat'leth. Gowron's aides didn't seem greatly surprised, which led Picard to wonder just how many desks the Chancellor had gone through during his rule. The captain's thoughts were interrupted by a cloaked figure coming up beside him and a Romulan disrupter muzzle being thrust into his ribcage. Standing stock-still, Picard kept his voice even, "I wonder how the Romulan Senate will respond to the Tal Shair after three failed assassination attempts on one lone Federation Starship Captain."
"You're not just a starship captain, Picard, or should I call you the Arbiter of Succession - or maybe even Locutus?" the Romulan inquired quietly. "If I were Tal Shair, you'd be dead already and you certainly wouldn't still have your communicator; however, there is someone important who would like a word with you. If you'll please come with me."
"It seems I have little choice," Picard replied.
"That is quite correct, this way please," the Romulan answered.
The Romulan directed Picard to a small, inconspicuous dwelling in the seedier section of the Klingon capitol city. The captain stepped through the door and it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the low lighting. Sitting at a table in the middle of the room was Senator Pardek.
"Thank you for coming, Captain." The stout Romulan's expression was grim as he gestured to the chair opposite him. "Please join me."
"Your invitation was one I was unable to refuse," Picard replied dryly.
"My apologies, but it was necessary," Pardek told him. Turning to look at the other Romulan, he ordered, "You may leave us."
"But Senator . . ."
"It's quite all right, political assassinations are not the good captain's style," Pardek chuckled, "And he seems to have left his very lovely, knife-wielding wife at home."
"Yes, sir," the other Romulan nodded and left the room.
As Picard sat down opposite of him, Pardek smiled slightly, "I was quite impressed with your wife's performance at the reception the other night. I'm sure that added a few pages to the dossier the Tal Shair have on you."
"I'm sure it did. Now, what did you want to discuss with me?" Picard asked, quickly steering the conversation away from Vash.
"This isn't easy for me, Captain, the Tal Shiar were only supposed to threaten the Empire, but Taibok plans to really destroy it. The Tal Shiar are very powerful. I may be signing my own death warrant by betraying them to you; however, I would rather be responsible for one death - my own - than the deaths of billions," Pardek said solemnly. His face showing the grave weight of his decision.
"I understand, Senator, we've heard rumors that the Tal Shiar has a device that will destroy the Qo'nos star," Picard replied, matching Pardek's grim tone. "What is Taibok planning?"
Pardek took a deep breath, "Tal Shiar agents recovered one trilithium device from the Amagosia observatory before you and your crew intervened. They were unable to replicate the design, so there is only the one device. I'm afraid Taibok has every intention to use that device on the Klingon star if the council does not vote for a treaty with the Romulans."
"Where is it?" Picard leaned forward intently.
" I do not know. Regretfully, I am not privy to that information," Pardek sighed resignedly. "I have told you all that I know about this device. The fate of the Klingon Empire now rests in your hands, Picard, I can die with a clear conscience." Pardek dropped his chin to his chest and waved Picard out of the small dwelling.
.............................
Picard methodically paced the length of the Enterprise's bridge. To the outside observer, his demeanor would have appeared to be one of composed determination. His senior officers knew differently. When Captain Picard was pacing, he was feeling restless and impatient. He wanted a solution and he wanted it yesterday. He stopped to stand directly behind Data, who was working at one of the science stations.
"Anything to report, Mr. Data?" Picard asked, clasping his hands behind his back.
"Nothing yet, sir, it will take a few more minutes to complete the analysis of the spectrographic data sent back from the probe," Data answered as he continued his work.
"You are sure this will show us any cloaked ship in the area?" Picard inquired.
"Sir, cloaking devices work by the selective refracting of light. Any cloaked vessel in the area will change the wavelength of the light bent around it," Data explained. Glancing up at his captain he added, "They can not change the laws of physics."
"Understood," Picard replied. He gave a small self-deprecating smile. "As Vash would say - I'm breathing down your neck, aren't I?"
"Yes, sir; however, since I am an android it has little effect on me," Data offered a small smile as he looked back down at the computer console. "It is also probably safer than doing it to Mr. Worf."
"Agreed," Picard chuckled as he returned to his command chair.
A short time later, Data looked up. "Captain, I have found four cloaked Romulan vessels orbiting the Qo'nos sun. I am putting their current positions on screen."
Riker sighed with disgust as he looked at the main view screen. "Damn, four cloaked ships, one trilithium device and no way to scan the ships to find out which one is carrying it."
"Four chambers and one bullet, I've never been very fond of Russian roulette," Picard commented dryly. He paused of a moment as a thought came to him. Standing up, he straightened his jacket and headed for his readyroom. "Number One get me a secure channel to Chancellor Gowron and patch it through to my readyroom. "
........................................
An hour later, Picard walked into the observation lounge where the squad leaders for the away teams on this operation were waiting to be briefed. The away teams were led by Riker, Worf, Lar and a lieutenant selected by Worf from his security teams. The captain found he was momentarily at a loss for the man's name. He looked like a younger version of Will Riker and Picard vaguely recalled that he had been raised on a ranch in Montana. The only thing that came to mind was 'the Cowboy', an affectionate moniker that Vash had given him that had stuck. Suddenly the young officer's name clicked into place, Mark Randall. As Picard took his seat at the head of the conference table, he gestured for everyone to take a seat, "Everyone, please."
As everyone took their seats, Picard placed a view of the Qo'nos sun with the positions of the four warbirds on the room's main viewscreen. "As you are all aware - we have four cloaked warbirds and one trilithium device. After consulting with Chancellor Gowron , we have formulated a plan. With their cloaks up, the Romulan warbirds' shields are down. Gowron has sent us four cloaked Klingon scoutships, we will send a small away team on each scoutship to just within transporter range of a warbird. Each away team will beam onto their assigned Romulan warbird and scan for the trilithium device. Once the device is found, disarm it, destroy it, or bring it back with you. The trilithium torpedo will not detonate unless it is inside the sun's core, so phaser fire is not a hazard. Each ship will maintain an emergency transporter lock on the away teams at all times. If you are discovered, contact the Enterprise. We will maintain communications with each scoutship and can order simultaneous emergency transports of all away teams. Commander Riker will lead team Alpha, Commander Worf, team Bravo, Lieutenant Lar has team Charlie and Lieutenant Randall, team Delta."
"Remember we want to get in, out, and back here quickly without the Romulans knowing a thing," Riker added.
Seeing everyone nod, Picard said, "You have your orders, dismissed."
As they stood, Lar turned to Randall and quipped, "A covert operation means no whoopin and shit-kickin, Cowboy."
Randall grinned back, "No, Betazoid-boy, a covert operation just means the whoopin and shit-kickin is to be done real quiet-like."
Riker stepped between them and put a hand on each of their shoulders. "How about we do the whoopin and shit-kickin from here after we're back, boys."
"Yes, sir." Both men grinned at their superior officer as they exited the conference room.
....................................
On the bridge, Data looked up from ops, "Sir, the scoutships report all away teams have successfully beamed onto the warbirds."
"Thank you, Mr. Data," Picard acknowledged. "Keep me informed."
The ops console beeped and Data looked down quickly, tapping keys. "Captain, incoming transmission from Alpha Team, audio only."
Picard stood from his command chair, straightening his tunic. "Patch it through, Mr. Data."
Riker's voice sounded a bit ragged and there was phaser fire in the background as he reported. "Team Alpha, we've located the device but were unable to reach it. We've been discovered."
"Understood, Alpha. Stand by." Picard motioned for Data to open the channel to the scoutships. "Enterprise to scoutships, emergency transport."
There were a few anxious moments before Data reported back. "Sir, all teams secure. The Romulans have not detected the cloaked scoutships and they are en route for Qo'nos."
"Very good, Mr. Data." Picard returned to his command chair.
"Captain," Data looked up from his station. "There is an incoming transmission from warbird alpha."
"On screen." Picard stood back up and adjusted his uniform jacket.
Taibak stood on his bridge, shaking with barely contained rage. "That's the last straw, Picard! You have meddled in Romulan affairs for the last time. Do you have any idea what I have onboard this ship? A trilithium device capable of destroying -"
Data spoke up quietly from Ops. "Captain, I have muted the transmission. After analyzing the information, I have determined that if Commander Taibak fires the weapon from that range, it will strike the Qo'nos sun and detonate in 10.1 seconds. It would take approximately 13.4 seconds to establish a phaser lock."
Picard nodded and motioned for Data to reestablish audio.
"-you will be unable to do anything but watch, Picard," Taibak was screaming.
As Taibak ranted, Picard very casually moved to the Conn station and nudged the officer. He slid into the chair and tapped several keys.
"Fire!" screamed Taibak from his bridge.
As the trilithium torpedo left the cloak of the warbird and became visible, Picard engaged the warp engines at maximum on an intercept course for the torpedo. The Enterprise flashed toward the sun in a desperate attempt to block the torpedo's path. The ship rocked as the torpedo struck the shields and destructed, minus the force of the trilithium warhead which rocketed away into space, harmless. Picard's hands moved swiftly across the console, tilting the Enterprise to skim along the corona of the sun and out onto the other side.
"Disengaging warp engines," Picard announced, turning the station back to the Conn officer. "Set a course for the warhead. Tactical, when we're in range, fire phasers on the warhead. Let's destroy it before anyone else gets any bright ideas."
A few moments later came the report from Tactical, "Warhead destroyed, sir."
"Understood. Set a course for Qo'nos and engage," Picard ordered from the command chair.
"Captain," Data reported from Ops. "The Romulans are leaving orbit on a course for Romulan space."
"Amazing how fast the game ends when you take their ball away from them," Picard remarked dryly.
.................................
In his quarters that night, Picard sat behind his desk finishing up the ship's log, "After the destruction of the trilithium warhead, the four Romulan Warbirds left Klingon space on a heading for Romulan space. The Klingon High Council voted for Federation Treaty. Chancellor Gowron and the Klingon High Council have 'extended their appreciation to the Federation for allowing the Arbitor of Succession to represent them admirably in the treaty ratification negotiations.' The Enterprise is en route to Risa for a well deserved shore leave. Ambassador Fontaine has requested and received permission to remain on board the Enterprise until we arrive at Risa."
"Ahem," a soft feminine voice came from the bedroom doorway.
"Computer, end log." Picard looked up to see his wife wrapped in his bathrobe.
"Has Captain-Admiral-Captain Kirk finished saving the universe for the day?" Vash inquired.
Picard stood and paused to adjust his tunic. As he strode toward the bedroom, he remarked in mock indignation. "I did not blow up the Enterprise."
"You certainly gave it the old college try," came her pert response.
*** FINIS ***
