
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/414524.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, Other
  Fandom:
      Star_Trek:_The_Next_Generation, TNG_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Beverly_Crusher/Jean-Luc_Picard, P/C_-_Relationship
  Character:
      Jean-Luc_Picard, Beverly_Crusher
  Additional Tags:
      P/C_h/c_-_Freeform
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-05-28 Chapters: 1/2 Words: 83271
****** The Essence of Anger Pt 1 ******
by Heather_Smyth_(Shire55)
Summary
     Warning! This is a very dark piece...not a 'happy' story! It is in
     canon and context.
     Jean-Luc, Beverly and their young family are sent on a mission. A
     deplorable event occurs that changes everything. A high price is paid
     to restore what went wrong.
The Essence of Anger
 
Jean-Luc Picard plucked aimlessly at the short, strong thread that protruded
from the hem of the sleeve of the tan coloured overall he wore. The garment was
ill-fitting; far too large and made of a stiff synthetic material which
irritated his skin as he wasn’t allowed to wear anything else under it. His
bare feet were encased in rigid elasticised slippers several sizes too big.
His cell was bleak and very small, made completely of some kind of metal,
everything, from walls, floor, ceiling and fittings, all cold, featureless
metal of the same dull grey.
Against one wall was a narrow moulded bench which served as both bed and seat.
On it was a thin, hard mattress, no pillow and two wafer-thin blankets. Either
lying or sitting, the cold of the metal underneath the mattress seeped through,
making Jean-Luc constantly chilled.
Opposite was a basin with a single spigot. Jean-Luc had discovered water came
from it if anything was put under the spigot. It was where he could wash
himself and it provided water to slake his constant thirst, a side-effect of
the drugs he’d been receiving.
Although the basin was relatively clean, the toilet was not. Instead of a
modern bio waste disposal unit, it was a large antiquated metal bowl with a
small amount of water in it. He had quickly realised he had to sit to void any
bodily waste. When he stood, the toilet automatically flushed. There was an
all-pervading odour of urine and faeces coming from the bowl and its interior
was coated with a crust of dark granular matter. Jean-Luc doubted it had ever
been cleaned.
He was given only one meal per day, but he found it adequate. His jailers
didn’t stint on the amount he received and it was well cooked and although he
couldn’t identify what he was eating, it was at least palatable. He was given
nothing to drink; it was assumed he would get all he needed from the basin
spigot.
It was difficult for Jean-Luc to gauge the passage of time. He knew that a rap
on the metal door meant he had to get up and move to the door. A small hatch
was opened and he was required to put both hands through. Manacles were
attached to his wrists and then he had to step well back into his cell. Only
then would the door be opened. He would be given his meal and two guards would
wait while he ate it, a difficult thing to do with his wrists manacled and with
no cutlery. When he’d finished he was required to make use of the toilet then
another person entered, always clad in light blue top and pants, in stark
contrast with the blood-red uniforms of the guards. Jean-Luc assumed she was a
medic, if not a doctor then certainly a nurse. Utilising an old-fashioned
hypodermic syringe, Jean-Luc would be injected into his neck then the two
guards, very large males as was usual for their species, would hold his upper
arms tightly, but not cruelly until the drug began to take effect. He was then
guided to the bed and encouraged to lie down. The manacles were removed and the
blankets drawn over him. Everyone would leave then and the closing of the heavy
metal door only just registered as the fog in Jean-Luc’s mind descended.
He had no idea how long he’d been incarcerated but he had found a short period
of partial clarity surfaced about half an hour before the rap on the door. He
used this time to try to remember what had happened to get him into his present
situation. Obviously he had committed some kind of crime, but what it was, he
had no idea. By the healing wounds on the knuckles of his hands he assumed
violence was involved and that worried him incessantly as the only thing he
could think of that would incite him to physical violence was if his lover or
their children were threatened in some way.
Another thing that both confused and vexed him was why he’d not heard from
anyone on his ship. He remembered the Enterprise entering orbit of an M class
planet called Ereban and he was vaguely aware he had a job to do there, but he
just couldn’t remember what it was he was supposed to do.
His eyes drifted back to the stub of thread and he sighed. Taking the thread
between thumb and forefinger, he got a good grip and tugged sharply sideways.
Just as so many times before, the thread stubbornly refused to break and his
fingers slipped off. Ignoring the ache in the muscles of his hand, he gripped
the thread again. In the face of his addled mind it seemed to be the only thing
he could concentrate on. His fingers were bleeding when the rap on the door
sounded hollowly.
 
It was a dull ache that woke Beverly. With an almost atavistic movement her
right hand went to her lower abdomen and her eyes were closed when a smaller,
warm and soft hand covered hers.
“Lie quietly, Beverly, it’s over. You’re going to be all right.”
Beverly Crusher had always found her best friend’s voice lyrical and pleasant,
but the words Deanna Troi had just spoken made her want to scream in anger and
grief.
Keeping her eyes tightly closed, Beverly struggled to control herself enough to
speak. In the end she couldn’t summon her voice so she whispered instead.
“I’ve lost it, haven’t I. I’ve lost the baby.”
Deanna’s hand gently squeezed hers.
“Yes.”
“Boy or girl?”
Although Beverly couldn’t see Deanna she knew how she would look. Stricken and
bereft.
“Beverly...” Deanna said softly. “Don’t torture yourself like this.”
She gritted her teeth and quickly realised her jaw must have been broken as it
was still quite sore. Still, she had to know, but if asked she’d be unable to
explain why.
“Boy or girl?” She asked again.
She heard Deanna sigh.
“Girl.”
There followed a momentary silence before Beverly whispered quietly,
“Monique will be so disappointed. She wanted a little sister. David gives her
such a hard time. Does Jean-Luc know?”
“Not yet.”
If Beverly had opened her eyes she would’ve seen Deanna’s silent tears.
“Beverly there are some things I have to tell you, things that you’re not going
to want to hear, but because David needs you and Selar has said you’re strong
enough now, I have to tell you.”
Beverly’s eyes snapped open and she tried to rise from the biobed.
“Jean-Luc! Is he all right?”
It was then that Beverly noticed Deanna’s tears.
“Oh God...no...no...”
Two nurses appeared and gently eased the weakened woman back down. Deanna took
both of Beverly’s hands and said softly and with great gentleness,
“Jean-Luc is alive, Beverly, but Monique...I’m so sorry, Beverly...she has
died.”
Deanna clearly saw both confusion and denial on Beverly’s face.
“No! No, that can’t be right!” Beverly was using her voice now but it was
gravelly and raw. “She was in the apartment with me. David had beamed back to
the ship to get some toy or something and Monique and I were going to make
dinner.”
She smiled and patted Deanna’s hand.
“There’s been some kind of mistake, Dee. Monique must be with Jean-Luc and
David. Someone has really stuffed up. Check in with Jean-Luc, he’ll settle
this.”
Selar, Beverly’s Vulcan colleague, joined Deanna at Beverly’s bedside. Her
superior hearing had picked up the entire conversation and she had a hypospray
loaded with a strong sedative hidden in her hand. Giving Deanna a quick glance
and receiving a surreptitious nod, Selar said firmly, but not unkindly,
“Doctor Crusher, you were brutally raped, causing the spontaneous abortion of
your child. Your daughter was also violated and murdered. The preliminary post
mortem suggests your daughter’s violation occurred after her death which was
instantaneous. Her neck had been broken. Her death would have been painless.
Due to the enormous disparity in size between the Ereban males’ sexual organs
and those of a human female, your uterus had been perforated in four places.
However, I managed to repair the damage, thus avoiding a hysterectomy. You will
be able to have further children if you so choose.
“Captain Picard arrived at the apartment while the attack was taking place and
in the ensuing fight he killed the three rapists with his bare hands. He is at
present incarcerated in the state mental institution awaiting trial. The
Erebans have not permitted us to have any contact with him, although we have
been advised he will be appointed a state legal representative to assist him at
his trial. Unfortunately the precept of Ereban jurisprudence is that one is
presumed guilty until proven innocent. He has been charged with three counts of
unprovoked murder, the punishment for which is execution by exsanguination. In
short, if his guilt is proven, his throat will be slit.”
Beverly’s expression hardly altered. Her eyes were glassy, but the weird smile
stayed in place.
“You’ve made a mistake, Selar, you must be thinking about someone else. I lost
the baby because I fell and hit my stomach.” Her hand went to her jaw and the
smile became wry.
“I must’ve really fallen hard!” She patted Deanna’s hand again.
“Will you call Jean-Luc for me, Dee? He needs to hear about the baby from me
and David will be nearly finished at school for the day and he needs to be
picked up and Monique will be ready to leave crèche.”
Selar moved quickly, the hiss of the hypo catching Beverly unawares. She had
time to try and frown before her eyes closed and she slipped into
unconsciousness.
Deanna sighed and wiped and her flowing tears.
“Oh, God, Selar, this is so...hideous. Not only have the Captain and Beverly
lost their little daughter, they lost their unborn child as well and when you
consider Beverly’s injuries...”
Inclining her head, Selar led Deanna to Beverly’s office.
“Have you read the full report?”
Deanna shook her head.
“No, once I read that you’d saved her uterus I stopped. Just how bad was it?”
For a Vulcan, what Selar did next was surprising. She frowned and shook her
head.
“I have rarely seen such deliberately inflicted sexual violence, Counsellor. In
addition to the aborted child and perforated uterus with accompanying
haemorrhage, Doctor Crusher had sustained five broken ribs, a broken right
wrist, her jaw was broken in three places, five teeth were knocked out, her
liver was lacerated and her spleen torn and her hyoid bone fractured by
compression on the larynx, which was also damaged.
“And Counsellor, Doctor Crusher had been sodomised. Her anus was badly torn,
her rectum rent and her lower intestine torn. There was also evidence of Ereban
reproductive matter in her stomach and oesophagus.”
Deanna lowered her face into her hands.
“Thank God poor little Monique was dead when they raped her.”
Selar sighed.
“The psychological ramifications aside, she would not have survived the attack,
Counsellor. Her internal injuries were simply too severe. I have no doubt if
she did not die of shock she would have bled to death before any help could
arrive.”
Deanna looked up. Her face was very pale and dark smudges marked the delicate
skin under her obsidian eyes.
“She was four years old, Selar. How could they do that to one so little and
defenceless? I mean, Beverly didn’t have a chance either, but a child? A little
girl?”
With a deep sigh, Selar again shook her head.
“I cannot answer your questions, Counsellor. What drives any sentient being to
want to behave violently, sexually or otherwise towards another? I do not
understand and I do not think I ever will. From what little I know about Ereban
society, they value the family unit above all else. Perhaps it was simply
because Doctor Crusher and her daughter were...different. Perhaps they were
perceived as some kind of threat? It could even be that what was done was
ritualistic...some form of punishment or chastisement?” She shrugged. “I just
do not know.”
Deanna sighed deeply and pushed her fingers against her closed eyes.
“And what about the Captain? Why have they put him in a psychiatric facility?
He was defending his life partner and his children. They say he murdered
unprovoked. Unprovoked? What was he supposed to do? Stand back and watch?”
Both women were silent then as they contemplated the situation. Eventually
Deanna sighed and asked softly,
“How long will you keep Beverly sedated?”
Steepling her fingers under her chin, Selar levelled her steady gaze at the
Counsellor.
“That depends on you. Obviously there has been a degree of dissociation.
Whether or not you can bring her out of it and get her to accept what has
happened is a task I do not envy you, Counsellor.”
“Shall I tell her how much time has passed?”
“Well if you don’t, David most surely will. It’s his seventh birthday in three
days time. Two weeks have passed, Counsellor. He must be very confused.”
Deanna nodded slowly and Selar could see the admiration and affection she held
for the boy.
“I’ve told him all I can that’s appropriate for his age and he’s handling it
remarkably well, but he’s grieving, Selar and he needs his parents, but what
can I do? His father is locked up facing capital punishment, his mother has
mentally retreated, he’s lost his little sister and the child that was going to
be his younger sibling. What on earth can I say to him to ease that kind of
pain, grief and anger?”
Selar bowed her head, feeling the weight of Deanna’s sorrow and anguish.
“I have no children, Counsellor and a Vulcan child, even one as young as David
would have enough training to be able to withstand the emotional turmoil
involved in this situation. I cannot give you any meaningful advice other than
for you to assist Doctor Crusher back to some semblance of mental stability so
she can comfort her son. In fact, they could comfort one another. Doctor
Crusher will be grieving also.”
Nodding slowly, Deanna looked up and said softly,
“Is there any way we can seal Monique’s file? Make it so neither Beverly or the
Captain ever find out the true scope and nature of her injuries and cause of
her death?”
“I do understand your natural desire to protect your colleagues, Counsellor,
but what you ask is unethical. Doctor Crusher is the CMO, only she has the
proper authority to seal a medical file. Besides, the Erebans have a copy. No
doubt it will be used by the defence at Captain Picard’s trial as will Doctor
Crusher’s medical file.”
Deanna’s mouth opened and her eyes closed.
“Oh God!” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “If he’s in a psychiatric
facility because of some kind of mental instability...which is likely
considering what he witnessed and what he resorted to, just how do you think
he’s going to react to finding out about the injuries to Beverly, the loss of
Monique and the unborn child and how it all occurred? For God’s sake, if he’s
not in some kind of shock or other mental trauma now he soon will be!”
Getting quickly to her feet, Deanna hurried to the door.
“This is the flagship of Starfleet! It’s time her acting Captain started
throwing his weight around!”
With that, Deanna stormed out of Sick Bay. Selar sat back in her seat and
contemplated how Commander Will Riker, acting Captain and lover of Counsellor
Troi was going to handle the determined and very angry woman. Sighing, the
Vulcan devoted some thought to the illogic of it all. She had worked and lived
amongst humans for a very long time, but she doubted she would ever truly
understand them. And somehow she was glad.
 
David Picard sat on the edge of his bed feeling utterly bewildered. Since that
terrible afternoon two weeks ago when Aunt Deanna had come to their quarters to
tell him the shocking news, nothing had made any sense at all.
He’d been looking for one of his vid games when his aunt came in and he saw by
her expression that something was very wrong. He immediately felt frightened
and wanted his mother, but his aunt went to him, taking him by the hand as if
he were a little boy and not a nearly seven year old and took him to the sofa.
They sat close together and in a very quiet, gentle voice, Aunt Deanna told him
a story he simply refused to believe.
“How could that be?” He’d asked. “I just left Maman and Monique a few minutes
ago. How could Monique be dead, Maman badly injured and the baby gone?”
Slowly and carefully, Deanna explained over and over until he finally believed
her. The tears came then. Deanna enfolded David in her arms and held his face
against her breast, but for David it didn’t help. As much as he loved his aunt,
she didn’t feel right. Her hold of him was different and she didn’t smell the
same as his Maman. She held him, stroking his hair and crooning as he sobbed,
but it wasn’t the same. He wanted his mother. His father, his beloved Papa
would hold him, and the warm, strong security David always felt when his father
held him was wonderful, but right now what he desperately needed was his
mother.
Over the days that followed that fateful afternoon, Deanna had stayed with him
constantly and on three occasions (at his insistence) he had been allowed to
see his mother. She lay on a biobed covered with a light blanket. Her face was
covered in derma patches and the bright blue lights of regeneration beams shone
on several parts of her body. David’s eyes left his mother’s battered but
healing face and slowly followed the contours of her body under the blanket.
When he got to her lower abdomen he immediately saw the slight roundness of her
four and a half month pregnancy was gone. Her stomach was flat and he stared at
it fixedly until Deanna gently put her hands on his shoulders and said softly,
“Talk to her, David. Even though she’s deeply asleep, she might hear you.”
He looked again at his mother’s face and his mouth refused to move. He felt
stupid and wanted to run away and hide. He remembered something his Papa had
told him about facing fear, how fear had the ability to paralyse and confuse
and that although it could be very hard, it was always best to face fear, to
defeat it before it could take hold of you.
So David gently took one of his mother’s hands, relieved that it felt warm, but
when he gave it an encouraging squeeze, the gesture wasn’t returned. He managed
to say very quietly,
“I love you, Maman, please get better soon.”
Of course Beverly didn’t respond and David had a sudden and overwhelming need
to have his little sister with him. They didn’t hold hands much any more. Since
he’d started school two years ago, he’d begun to look upon his younger sister
as a baby and not really worthy of his attention. With his cheeks flaming he
recalled that the last thing he’d said to Monique before he’d beamed up to the
ship was some snide remark about not being able to help Maman make dinner
because she was too dumb. How he wished she was with him now! If he squeezed
her hand she would squeeze back just as hard.
Both Beverly and Jean-Luc had noticed the change in the children’s relationship
with each other. Where once they had been very close, David’s two years in
school had formed a rift between them. The parents had discussed the situation
at length. Beverly wasn’t overly concerned. She thought once Monique started
kindergarten, which was to be very soon, she felt sure David would begin to see
his sister in a different light. Jean-Luc, on the other hand, having been
traumatised by his own elder brother’s incessant bullying, was very worried; so
worried in fact that he insisted on having a long talk with David over the
matter.
David recalled the ‘talk’ vividly. First, David refused to sit on his father’s
lap. That was something little kids did. Then, when his father began to talk
and the nature of the discussion became clear, David became bored and non-
communicative. Jean-Luc was careful not to lecture his young son, but he did
try to impress upon him the importance of the family tie, the bonds of familial
relationships and how, although he might not think too highly of his little
sister now, that would change as they both grew older. Jean-Luc also reminded
his reluctantly listening son that once the baby was born, Monique would no
longer be the youngest. It was that bit of information that had sunk in the
most and, as David sat on the edge of his bed, he idly wondered if Monique
would’ve picked on her little brother or sister. He sighed and new tears
formed. Nothing made any sense. He seemed to have no control over his emotions.
One minute he’d be feeling okay, next he’d be so angry he’d want to break
something and then, just as quickly he’d be weeping inconsolably in Deanna’s
arms. And then there was the bed wetting.
As he sat there he’d studiously ignored the wet sheet and the smell of urine,
but his wet pyjama pants were beginning to make him feel cold, so with a
disgusted sigh he tugged them off along with his top and took a quick shower.
When he emerged from his bathroom, his bed had been changed and the wet linen
and clothing removed. Somehow his Aunt Deanna always knew. Most times he was
grateful as she never mentioned it, but sometimes it really annoyed him. He
knew she was empathic and he understood what that meant, but knowing she was
aware of his every feeling, his every mood sometimes made him angry. And of
course she knew that too! So it was with a resigned sigh that he left his
bedroom to join his aunt in the living area.
Deanna patted the sofa seat beside her and David obediently sat. On the low
table was his breakfast. It was a departure from his usual routine. His family
always shared breakfast together at the dining table, but he’d noticed that his
aunt occasionally broke with routine and it secretly pleased him. Unfortunately
that made him feel horribly guilty. Deanna sensed his sudden shift and gently
took his hand.
“It’s okay, David, everything you feel is okay, just don’t suppress what you
feel. Either tell me about it or do something to express it. Don’t hide.”
Summoning a watery smile, David nodded and wiped his finger under his nose.
When he spoke his voice was soft.
“Papa told me about facing fear.”
That made Deanna offer a sad smile.
“I bet he did and I’m not going to tell you what he told you was wrong, David,
but sometimes it’s okay to let fear have its place. What you’ve been
through...what you’re going through is very frightening and it’s okay to be
frightened. No one expects you to be an unfeeling robot, David. You’re a human,
a little boy...”
Before David could protest, Deanna held up her index finger.
“I know! You’re nearly seven and that’s pretty good, but you have a lot of
growing up to do yet.”
When David lowered his head and sighed, Deanna gave him a one-arm hug.
“For what it’s worth, David, I think you’re doing a wonderful job under
circumstances that might be too hard for some adults. I’m so proud of you and I
know your Maman and Papa are proud of you too.”
Looking up, David swallowed the lump in his throat that was so big it almost
completely constricted his larynx.
“Have you heard anything about Papa?”
“No, David, but I had a long talk with Uncle Will yesterday and he’s going to
beam down to meet with an Ereban government official later today. Perhaps we’ll
know more then.”
“And Maman? Is she any better....you know...here.”
He tapped his temple and Deanna smiled.
“Yes, she is a little better.”
David frowned and picked up a piece of buttered toast off the warmer. Taking a
bite he chewed unenthusiastically before asking around his food,
“She knows, doesn’t she? About everything?”
“Yes,” Deanna said cautiously. “But what happened to her, both physically and
in her mind was so bad it had made her want to...go to a safe place in her
mind. I’ve been talking to Selar about it and we think we might be able to coax
your Maman to come back to us by using very light sedation. Not enough to make
her sleep, but enough to keep her calm so I can talk to her without her feeling
the need to retreat.”
David thought about that for a while before saying offhandedly,
“I don’t think she wants me around any more.”
Careful to keep her alarm off her face and out of her voice, Deanna said
quietly,
“Why do you say that?”
Taking another bite of his toast and a slurp of juice, David shrugged while he
chewed.
“She’s my Maman, right?”
“Yes.”
“And she’s supposed to love me.”
“She does, you know that.”
He shrugged again.
“Then why has losing the baby and Monique made her go to this...safe place?
Aren’t I enough to make her want to be with us? Were Monique and the baby more
important than me? Maybe if I’d been there...”
Deanna had been expecting this, in fact she’d begun to wonder just when it was
going to emerge.
“David there is nothing more important to your parents than their children and
not one of you was more or less important than the other. What happened, during
and after was not your fault! The fact you weren’t there makes absolutely no
difference to what happened, it would’ve occurred anyway and you would’ve most
likely have been killed along with your sisters.”
“Maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad. With all of us gone, Maman and Papa
could start again.”
Deanna felt a spike of anger mixed with intense pain.
“David, you’re talking about yourself and your deceased siblings as if you’re
nothing but renewable commodities!”
When he frowned with confusion over the word, Deanna elaborated.
“Children aren’t something you simply replace if you lose one, David. Children
born to parents who love each other as your parents do are loved and cherished.
The loss of Monique and the baby are devastating to your parents, but that
doesn’t mean their love for you has diminished in any way! In fact it’s
probably increased, because you are all they have now.”
“Why can’t I see Monique?”
The non sequitur blind-sided Deanna momentarily. She quickly gathered her
thoughts.
“Where did that come from?”
David shrugged, doing his best to appear nonchalant, but Deanna easily sensed
his underlying grief.
“I’ve seen Maman and her injuries...and her flat stomach. I don’t want to see
the baby, but Monique and me...”
Overwhelming sadness emanated from the boy and his eyes filled with tears.
“Aunt Deanna...the last thing I said to her was...”
He couldn’t continue so Deanna gently embraced him while he quietly wept.
Eventually he sniffed and said very quietly,
“I want to say I’m sorry...and ...good bye.”
Monique’s little body was in Sick Bay’s morgue. The Ereban officials had
released it after the post mortem and Selar herself had carried out another,
more intensive investigation of the little girl’s horrifying injuries. Deanna
was well aware that she had been cosmetically restored and to anyone who saw
her she would appear to be simply asleep. Under the circumstances she could see
no reason why David shouldn’t be given the opportunity to apologise and say
farewell to his little sister. The long-term benefits were positive as well so
Deanna agreed.
The Counsellor encouraged David to try and finish his breakfast, then she made
the call to Selar.
 
Jean-Luc thought perhaps another two days had passed. He had no real way to
know for sure, but he was very familiar with his own body clock and, despite
the drugs they kept giving him, certain things still occurred that gave him an
inkling as to the passage of time. Like the length of his new beard, for
instance. It was guesswork to be sure, but it was all he had.
He was in the semi-lucid period and, although he still plucked doggedly at the
thread, his mind still tried to figure out what the hell was going on. When the
rap came from the door, Jean-Luc, by now so well conditioned, automatically
stood at went to the door, waiting for the flap to open. It did and he offered
his wrists. They were duly manacled and he obediently stepped well back into
his cell.
As the guards came in with his tray bearing his meal, Jean-Luc suddenly asked,
“Why am I here?”
Those four words were the first he’d spoken since his incarceration. The guards
looked at each other and one smiled. The other said mildly,
“Sit down and eat your meal. When you’re finished, someone will come to talk to
you.”
Jean-Luc did as he was told, but as he ate he said,
“When I talk to this person, can it be without being medicated?”
He’d deliberately chosen the word medicated rather than drugged. He was careful
not to antagonise anyone. Obviously his brain was finally coming on line.
 
Commander William T Riker was not known for his patience. At least not the
glacial patience of his Captain. Waiting for anything made Will irritable. It
wasn’t exactly an endearing quality and certainly not one any Starship Captain
should have but it was part of who he was and it was unlikely, at his current
stage in life to change. So when he was left alone in a small, drab, poorly lit
room to await the arrival of the ‘official’ he was to liaise with, the longer
he waited, the more irritable he became. The fact that it could be worse wasn’t
lost on the man. When he’d first made contact directly with the Central
Government (after Deanna’s forthright encouragement), he’d been fobbed off but
he persisted. That made things significantly worse, the Ereban government
taking it as a diplomatic insult but still, Will pressed on, refusing time and
time again when offered underlings and secretaries. Finally after almost four
hour’s negotiation, he’d won grudging agreement from the Ereban’s Minister for
Interstellar Affairs to meet with him.
The Ereban people were big. It was the only simple way to describe them. They
were very tall, very solidly built, heavily boned and very adequately covered
in bulging muscles. The males, Will knew, possessed enormous penises and
equally huge testes...four of them. The females had four breasts and single
births were rare, the most usual pregnancy would consist of at least four
offspring. Gestation was almost two years but, unlike humans, Erebans only had
sex to procreate. They utilised other body parts Will was unfamiliar with for
another forms of physical pleasure and he had been told it often involved
groups of up to ten beings.
Ereban had held a very lucrative trade agreement with the Federation for twelve
years and until recently it had always run smoothly. But two neighbouring
planets had become increasingly belligerent and Ereban feared being caught up
in a conflict they wanted nothing to do with.
The government therefore, had decided to petition to the Federation for
membership. On the face of it, it seemed a wise decision; however it did not go
down well with the citizenry. Although not xenophobic, Erebans preferred to
keep to themselves. Their species put great emphasis on familial ties, the
family unit and the extension of blood relatives was uppermost in all aspects
of Ereban life. What would be considered nepotism on Earth was taken a
completely normal behaviour on Ereban. Their system, despite its obvious flaws
worked remarkably well. With a moderate population, the right person for any
given job could always be found within any given family group. There were no
class systems or echelons of wealth but the main problem with the Ereban way of
life was their unshakable but erroneous belief that the strength of their
families would be enough to defend against any aggressor. To that end, they had
not developed much in the way of defensive weaponry and even their ships,
though warp capable, they lacked even adequate shields, let alone weapons. It
was for this very reason that the government had decided to join the
Federation, but the reality was they merely wanted to hide behind the
Federation’s skirts until the problems with their neighbours were resolved.
It was a very delicate situation requiring someone with very specific skills.
They had to have first class military strategic thinking as well as highly
honed diplomatic experience. That man was Captain Jean-Luc Picard.
When Starfleet informed the Ereban government who they were sending to assess
them as potential members, the powers-that-be at Command were both stunned and
amused when the first thing the Erebans asked was if Jean-Luc was married and
with a family.
When informed that yes, he did have children, but no, he wasn’t married to the
mother of his children, it caused quite a stir and while the Ereban government
were desperate enough to overlook such a terrible state of affairs, the
population was not. There were demonstrations and protests, but the looming
threat of war eventually quietened the agitators and the Enterprise was duly
despatched.
Against the most strident protests from both Jean-Luc and Beverly, they were
ordered to undertake the negotiations as a complete family, meaning that
Beverly and the children had to accompany Jean-Luc for his stay on the planet.
From the moment they beamed down they were met with barely veiled hostility,
distrust and, at times, overt disgust. Only highly ranked government officials
treated them with any respect. After only a day or two, Beverly, David and
Monique began to spend most of their time in their apartment. The day
everything went mad was the first time they’d been out for five days. The
weather had been so lovely and the children so bored, Beverly decided to take
them to a nearby park. It was a decision that cost them so dearly and changed
their lives irrevocably.
 
Tired of sitting in a hard chair that was too big for him, (something Will had
rarely ever encountered), he was standing at the one small window, hands
clasped behind his back, foot tapping when the door finally opened.
The enormous female inclined her head, making her silky, lustrous hair slip
forward, momentarily obscuring her face. She wore a brightly coloured sarong-
type garment, many females did and some males too. Her four huge breasts
strained the material of her clothing and each big nipple protruded
confrontingly.
Will kept his gaze firmly on her eyes, which were a startlingly deep gold with
elongated feline pupils.
“Commander Riker. Please forgive me...” She made a dismissive wave of her hand.
“The pressures of work, you understand.”
Her voice was deep and husky but not pleasant to Will’s ears. He knew damn well
she’d deliberately kept him waiting, wishing, he surmised, to establish
dominance.
He had no idea how the roles of the sexes were perceived on Ereban but he was
not going to be intimidated or kow-tow to any petty bureaucrat. He pulled
himself to his full height, which unfortunately brought him eye to eye with her
huge nipples and swallowed before tilting his head back to look up at her. He
didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t have to. The steel in it was obvious to hear.
“As acting Captain of the Enterprise...the Flagship of the fleet, I expected
more respect than I’ve been shown. If you aren’t serious about these
discussions, we will leave and Ereban will just have to fend for itself.”
The minister’s face remained impassive, but her pupils narrowed and Will got
the distinct feeling he was being sized up. As a meal, perhaps.
“I think you are forgetting your Captain, Commander. He is still incarcerated
awaiting trial for capital offences.”
Will smiled, but not with his customary warmth.
“It is you who is forgetting your position, minister. Ereban is not yet a
member of the Federation and, as you are a warp-capable species, the Prime
Directive doesn’t apply. Should I order it, Captain Picard will be removed from
custody immediately whether you like it or not. In fact, minister, I just might
decide to pick three Ereban males to answer for the crimes committed against my
people. How would you like that?”
If nothing else, the female was a politician. Her smile was as cold as Will’s,
but she conceded his point.
“What is it you want, Commander?”
To be fair, Will was entitled to show his shit-eating grin, but for diplomacy’s
sake, he merely nodded and offered a slightly warm smile.
“We want complete access to Captain Picard, including our legal and medical
assistance. We want to see the evidence you have against him. We want to
interview everyone connected with his case. We want to present at his trial and
we want proper reparation made for the deaths of two of his children and the
savage, brutal unprovoked attack on his partner. In short, minister, we want a
fair deal and if you find our Captain guilty, I will tell you now, you will not
be executing him. Our investigation of this...unfortunate incident does not
agree with yours in any way and we will be bringing our evidence to his trial.”
Anger and outrage made the female’s muscular shoulders bunch and Will readied
himself to fight.
She hissed,
“Your demands are unreasonable and, Commander...”She made the word sound like
an obscenity, “Your Captain’s partner has no legal standing within our society.
To lie with a man and produce young and not join in the ceremony of the bond is
the action of a lurin. What you...Earthers,” again she made the word filthy,
“Would call a slut.”
Somehow, Will kept his towering anger under tight control.
“One of the precepts of the Federation is tolerance, minister. We of the
Federation do not impose our beliefs, prejudices or societal customs upon
others. I am bound by my oath to Starfleet to respect your beliefs and customs,
minister, but if you ever call my friend, Beverly Crusher a slut again, I may
well forget my oath and make my true feelings known.”
Given their disparity in size, some may have seen Will’s threat as an empty
one, but the minister knew truth when she heard it and as unpalatable as it
was, if Ereban was to join the Federation, it would seem they would have to get
used to confronting this kind of situation. Again, it was the politician in her
who spoke.
“I will not say that I am pleased with this turn of events, Commander, but I
will...reluctantly, agree with your...requests. You may send down a small
delegation...of unrelated personnel to meet with Captain Picard tomorrow
morning.”
“Thank you, minister.”
Will walked past the enormous women but stopped when she gently grabbed his
arm.
“You can’t possibly think you could best me in combat?”
Will grinned coldly.
“We might not share your preoccupation with family ties, minister, but we are
extremely loyal to our friends. Yes, you would easily beat me to a pulp, but I
would gladly defend my friends, even if it meant getting the crap beaten out of
me.”
He left a very thoughtful female in the dingy little room.
“The Federation just might prove to be a valuable friend after all if they’re
all like him.” She thought. “Disgusting habits aside.”
 
Jean-Luc didn’t recognise the huge woman who came in after he’d finished his
meal. She was dressed in a light blue top and pants, so he guessed she was part
of the medical staff. Her light gold eyes with their elongated vertical pupils
and her long silky yellow hair contrasted nicely with her light tan skin, but
her thin wide mouth made Jean-Luc uneasy. She smiled, showing a row of very
white, large teeth, further alarming the Captain.
“I am Doctor Absum, Captain Picard.” Her voice has remarkably deep and rough.
It wasn’t pleasant at all. “How are you feeling today?”
Summoning a smile, Jean-Luc lifted his manacled hands and scratched his beard.
“I’m not sure, Doctor. I have many questions I’d like some answers to.”
The smile remained on her face but Jean-Luc couldn’t help but feel it was
predatory.
“Well, as long as you remain calm and show no aggression, I will stay and
answer everything I can.”
Still with his hands raised, Jean-Luc pointed to the manacles with his chin.
“Can these be removed?”
“I’m afraid not, Captain.”
“May I ask why?” Jean-Luc gestured to the guards. “It’s not as if I pose any
threat.”
The Doctor let out a soft snort from her wide, flat nose.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
Jean-Luc sighed.
“I don’t even know where here is.”
Absum’s almost invisible blond eyebrows rose.
“Ah.” She sighed. “You are in the state mental institution.”
“Mental institution?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Absum smiled sadly.
“You are a very dangerous human, Captain. We have been keeping you controlled
with drug therapy. It has been our concern that you might resort to more
violence.”
Now completely confused and alarmed, Jean-Luc leaned forward and lifted his
hands.
“What did I do?”
The Doctor regarded Jean-Luc carefully before gesturing for the guards to move
a little closer while she moved a little further away.
“Captain Picard, you killed three adult Ereban males with nothing but your bare
hands, something I would’ve said would be impossible had I not seen the bodies
myself.”
Stunned beyond belief, all Jean-Luc could say was,
“Why?”
The Doctor sighed.
“I do not know, I’ve been assuming such outbursts of murderous violence was
normal for your species. Is it?”
“NO!” He shouted.
The vehemence of his reply made one of the guards place his huge hand on Jean-
Luc’s shoulder. Calming himself, Jean-Luc modulated his tone.
“No, Doctor it is most certainly not normal, nor is it normal for me
personally. I abhor violence in any form.”
With a slight nod from the Doctor, The guard removed his hand.
“Then we have some kind of mystery, Captain. From what I gather, you have no
memory of what happened?”
Jean-Luc shook his head.
“No, none whatsoever.”
“Hmm. When the government security personnel entered your apartment, you were
found standing still in the living room, the bodies of your victims lying
nearby and the room in total disarray. You were completely unresponsive, yet
docile. You offered no resistance when you were manacled and taken away. In
your...altered state, it was decided it would be in your best interests to
bring you here, rather than the state correctional centre, where you would have
been at a...disadvantage, given your diminutive size and relatively pleasant
appearance. Until today, you have not spoken a single word nor have you
exhibited any abhorrent behaviour. Now, that could be because of the drug
therapy, but my sense is that you’re telling the truth. I can see intelligence
in your eyes, Captain, but not anger or malevolence.”
A deep frown creased Jean-Luc’s forehead.
“How long have I been here? When did this...event occur?”
Making sure her unsettling voice was softened, Doctor Absum said quietly,
“A little over two of your...” She tsked. “What are they called?”
“Days?” Jean-Luc offered hopefully.
Absum shook her head, her thin lips pursed. Suddenly her eyes lit up and she
smiled and although she seemed pleased, Jean-Luc still found her smile scary.
“Weeks!”
Jean-Luc’s mouth gaped and he stared disbelievingly.
“I’ve been here over two weeks?” He asked incredulously.
The Ereban sighed.
“I know it must come as a shock, Captain, but what could we do? You were in
some kind of mental state we didn’t understand and given your propensity for
incredible violence, we had no other option but to keep you here until such
time as you recovered.”
Jean-Luc’s stare was cold and hard.
“Drugged.”
“Well we had to do something!”
“You could have summoned my partner; she is not only a Doctor, but my ship’s
Chief Medical Officer.”
Absum’s face hardened, her eyes growing very cold.
Your...partner...is lurin.”
The word meant nothing to Jean-Luc, but it was said with such open disgust and
venom he decided to let it pass. Whatever was going on here, his main concern
was to either get out or contact his ship.
Careful not to upset the delicate balance that had been established, Jean-Luc
asked softly,
“Can you tell me if my partner or our children have been made aware of
my...situation? May I contact my ship please?”
A strange look appeared on the Doctor’s face and she suddenly stood. His
questions went unanswered.
“Captain Picard, you have been charged with three counts of unprovoked murder.
Now that you seem to be lucid, your trial will be pending. I suggest you get
some rest.”
She reached into her garment and produced a hypodermic syringe. Jean-Luc knew
he shouldn’t, but he protested.
“I do not need to be sedated!”
“Now, Captain, stay calm please.”
“No, you don’t understand. I am not violent. Please don’t...”
She moved closer and one of the guards put one hand on top of Jean-Luc’s head,
the other on his shoulder, effectively immobilising his head.
“Don’t try and struggle, Captain, we’ll have to leave the manacles on if you
do.”
“No, please...don’t...”
He barely felt the sting of the needle as it slid into the flesh of his neck.
He tried to fight the drug but it was useless. They gently eased him into a
lying position and covered him with the thin blankets. The cell, which had been
so utterly filled by the three enormous Erebans quickly emptied. The manacles
were not removed.
 
Beverly was lying quietly in Sickbay and she thought she was dreaming. She was
in the apartment on Ereban with Monique. David had just beamed up and she was
comforting her little daughter, trying to wipe away the hurt of her brother’s
parting jibe. She was winning the battle and when she suggested they make
crepes suzette for dinner, Monique’s face lit up, her hurt forgotten.
There was a sudden loud banging on the door, startling them both. Giving
Monique’s shoulder a quick squeeze of reassurance, Beverly went to open it to
see who had chosen to forgo using the chime.
Her hand utilised the old-fashioned handle and opened the door a little to see
who it was. Without warning it was shoved violently wide and before she could
react, she’d been punched full in the face. Her broken nose streaming and her
mouth filling with blood, Beverly staggered backwards, dazed and in shock. It
was her daughter’s screams that brought her back to her senses. Blinking away
her tears, she made out three huge Ereban males. One was advancing on her,
undoing his pants. When Beverly tried to shout to Monique to run, her speech
was hampered by her broken teeth which flew from her bloodied mouth. She was
backing away from the male, trying to keep an eye on him and locate her
daughter but when a muscular arm encircled her neck from behind she tried to
scream. The next punch to her face momentarily robbed her of consciousness but
the feeling of her clothing being ripped from her body and Monique’s continued
screaming dragged her back to awareness. The arm around her neck had been
replaced by a huge calloused hand, so big it completely encircled her neck. Her
eyes bulged and she struggled to breathe as the hand tightened. Through blurred
vision a hideous Ereban face appeared close to her.
“You lurin scum! How dare you parade yourself and your illegitimate maggots in
one of our sacred gardens! Your very presence there has defiled our ancestors
and we intend to make you pay...the only way you understand.”
Just then, Monique launched herself at the huge man, leaping up on his back and
clawing at his eyes, screaming,
“Leave my Maman alone! My Papa is the Captain! He will punish you!”
Without taking his malevolent gaze from Beverly’s frightened eyes, the male
said quietly,
“Get it off me and make sure it doesn’t annoy me any more.”
One of the other males grabbed Monique around her waist and with little effort,
pulled her off the male and threw her onto the floor. The remaining male went
to her, knelt down on one knee and with no expression other than boredom,
grabbed her head and twisted it quickly, as if it were a doll’s. Beverly didn’t
see what happened but she heard the breaking of her daughter’s neck. She
screamed in anguish and tried to lash out, but the hold on her neck simply
increased until she began to black out.
The pressure was released allowing Beverly to regain consciousness. The cruel
face spoke again.
“Seeing as how the only thing lurin knows is how to spread her legs, that’s
what you’re going to do. The force with which Beverly was thrown to the floor
winded her and she groaned as she tried to take a breath. She wasn’t prepared
for the sudden invasion of a huge penis into her body, tearing and rupturing
her inside. Unable to scream, her body writhed in agony, the males laughing.
One of them remarked,
“Look at her. They’re all the same, these lurin, they just can’t get enough.
Give it to her Ribal make her squeal.”
Even though in unspeakable agony, Beverly turned her head and saw Monique’s
lifeless body. Finally her lungs filled with air and she howled in demented
grief and agony. She tried with everything she had to fight back, but they were
just too big and powerful. They had beaten her, raped her anally, orally and
vaginally, leaving her semi-conscious and haemorrhaging, the body of her unborn
baby expelled between her legs and were just finishing raping Monique’s little
body when Jean-Luc pushed the door open. She looked at her lover
uncomprehendingly, her mind not able to cope.
At first he was so shocked by what he saw he stood stock still, his mouth
partially ajar. Then he went berserk. Fuelled with fury so ferocious it
completely consumed him, he was actually unaware of exactly what he did, but
the subsequent post mortems of the male’s bodies gave a clear picture of how he
was able to kill three Ereban males who should have had no trouble killing him
with little more than a swipe of one large hand.
If the most vulnerable and sensitive part of a human male is his testicles and
he possess only two such organs, then it stands to reason that having four
testes and huge ones at that, they would be even more vulnerable and sensitive.
And Jean-Luc knew not only was this the case, but they were remarkably
delicate.
Being significantly smaller, quick, fit and lithe, and with the males a little
weakened by their recent activities, Jean-Luc took full advantage of his
training in martial arts and aimed his first attacks at where he felt his
adversaries were most vulnerable. His lightning fast kicks hit home bringing
the first male to his knees. Dodging under the swinging arm of the second,
Jean-Luc punched three times in quick succession, each blow loaded with all his
strength. The male yelled, grabbed his crotch and fell sideways. The third
male, having seen what had happened to his compatriots was more wary, circling
the coldly enraged human, looking for the opportunity to kill him. This Ereban
was cagey, careful to protect his groin. Jean-Luc was forced to aim his kicks
and punches at the male’s face and stomach, all the while avoiding the attempts
to manoeuvre him into a position where by he wouldn’t be able to avoid the
killing blow.
Ten minutes passed and Jean-Luc was beginning to tire. He was unaware of it,
just as he was unaware of his bleeding hands and feet, but his opponent was. A
cruel, triumphant smile emerged and he had the audacity to chuckle.
“I don’t know which one was better. The lurin or your little bastard. She was
tight though, the little one...very tight!
He licked his lips and something inside Jean-Luc snapped. If he was out of
control before, he now experienced true insanity. His mouth opened in a silent
roar, he lowered his head and charged. It was such an unexpected move; the
Ereban wasn’t ready for it. The top of Jean-Luc’s head hit the male squarely in
the testicles and he dropped like a stone.
Not stopping for an instant, Jean-Luc went to each helpless male and kicked his
throat with every ounce of strength he possessed. In each case there was a
crunching sound as their bulbous larynxes, which Jean-Luc knew were
incorporated with major blood vessels were crushed and ruptured. Where their
hands had been clutching their burst testicles, they now scrabbled at their
throats, desperately trying to breathe as they quickly drowned in their own
blood.
It was over remarkably quickly and in the ensuing silence Jean-Luc stood
motionlessly, staring blankly at the bodies of his partner, daughter and unborn
child. It was only a few minutes later that the authorities arrived. Someone
had complained about the noise.
Beverly wiped at the tears the streamed down her face and it was that action
that made her realise she wasn’t dreaming. She was now aware of what her
partner had done, but she now remembered what had happened to Monique, at least
her murder and she was aware of some of her own violation. With a terrible
sinking feeling she realised everything Deanna and Selar had been telling her
over and over was true. The two women watching her saw the realisation on her
face and Deanna took her hands, holding them tightly and beseeching,
“Let it out, Beverly, for God’s sake, let it out.”
The howls of anguish, grief and anger reverberated through everyone’s mind long
after Beverly had finally stopped and descended into broken sobs. Deanna hoped
she never heard such a sound from any being again as long as she lived.
 
Jean-Luc’s beard was really beginning to annoy him. It itched incessantly and
he suspected it was infested with something as was his pubic area, because he
was continually scratching. Since his ‘interview’ with Doctor Absum the
manacles had been left on, but the drugs had been gradually withdrawn. Now he
was almost completely lucid he was more aware of his surroundings and his body.
He smelled very badly of stale sweat and he knew his breath was putrid, his
teeth and tongue were covered in scunge.
When the rap came from the door he rose quickly, determined to insist he be
allowed to wash properly and shave and change his clothing. With manacles
already on his wrists, he didn’t have to go to the door; he just stepped back
and waited. He couldn’t contain his surprise and joy when four familiar faces
appeared.
Will, Deanna, Selar and a female Lieutenant he knew was a JAG representative,
although her name escaped him, crowded into his cell. If his unpleasant body
odour offended them, they didn’t show it; in fact, to Jean-Luc’s surprise, (and
secret delight) Will wrapped him in a bear hug. Jean-Luc allowed it for only a
few seconds before saying quietly but firmly,
“Thank you, but that’s enough, Number One.”
Releasing his CO, Will stepped back and ran a critical eye over him. His smile
faded as he noted how gaunt and unkempt his friend and Captain was.
“How are you Sir? Are they treating you well?”
“Oh, I’m fine, Will.” Jean-Luc’s smile was lopsided and didn’t reach his eyes.
“I could do with a shower, shave and some fresh clothes, but I’m all right.”
Deanna, who had spent the initial time sensing his emotions, felt his confusion
and dismay and embarrassment. She knew from what she sensed that he was unaware
of what had happened to his family. She had talked at length with Selar about
what to do if they found this was the case and they’d agreed it would be best
to tell him rather than him find out at the trial. Given what he’d done, there
was no telling what the shock of finding out in that environment and under
those circumstances would do to him...or what he might do.
Taking his hand, which earned her a stern look of disapproval; Deanna led him
to the bench and encouraged him to sit. Still holding his hand, Jean-Luc
frowned at his Counsellor, then glanced up at Will. By his grim expression he
knew something bad was about to happen.
“What is it?” He said with quiet urgency. “Is it Beverly...or one of the
children?”
“Captain,” Deanna said gently, “What do you remember?”
He shook his head.
“Nothing, Counsellor, I don’t remember anything about what happened to land in
me here. But I have been told that I...murdered three Ereban males, apparently
unprovoked, however, I cannot for the life of me understand how or why I
would’ve or could’ve done such a thing.”
Taking a deep breath, Deanna saw Selar reach into her pocket and remove a
hypospray.
“Captain, it is true that you killed three Ereban males, but it wasn’t
unprovoked. You entered your apartment after finishing the day’s negations to
find Beverly lying naked, sprawled on the floor, brutally beaten, raped and
haemorrhaging. Lying between her legs was the body of your unborn child.”
Jean-Luc’s pupils dilated and his mouth opened.
“What?”
Having started, Deanna had to go on.
“Beside Beverly lay Monique. She had been killed, Captain...and after her
death, violated.”
Tears welled in Jean-Luc’s eyes and spilled over his lower lids.
“No...no, please...no...” His voice broke.
Increasing her grip of his hand, Deanna continued.
“Beverly is going to be all right, Captain.”
He seemed to be unable to speak before he suddenly said,
“David?”
He’s fine, Captain. He was on the ship when...it happened.”
He seemed to be struggling to assimilate what he’d been told, but then his eyes
darkened.
“So the three males I killed...they ...they raped, beat Beverly and killed our
unborn child, then they killed and raped our little girl, our Monique.”
Deanna nodded slowly.
“Why? Why would they do that? Monique, she’s just a little girl. I don’t
understand.”
Will hunkered down and put his hands on Jean-Luc’s knees.
“You know that Beverly was considered what the Erebans call lurin?”
Jean-Luc nodded; a dark scowl on his face.
“Oh yes, she suffered their rudeness and spite until it became too much. That’s
why she and the children had been staying in the apartment all the time. David
had complained to me, wanting to return to the ship.”
Will nodded.
“Yeah, well it was probably cabin fever, but Beverly eventually decided to take
the kids for a walk in a nearby park. Unfortunately, it was a memorial park of
some description and considered sacred. And because of the way they viewed
Beverly...you know that lurin thing...well, those three males took it upon
themselves to punish her...teach her a lesson. I don’t think they actually
meant what eventually happened, at least I don’t think they intended to kill,
Captain, but it seems things got out of control. Maybe it was because Beverly
and Monique were aliens or maybe it had something to do with the civic unrest
about the negotiations or it could be that they were so incensed that a woman
who they considered, well you know, to desecrate the park by walking in
it...who knows. The thing is and forgive me, Captain, but as far as Ereban law
is concerned, what those males did to Beverly isn’t considered a crime.”
Clearly outraged, Jean-Luc shot to his feet, and grabbed the front of Will’s
uniform with his manacled hands.
“What?! Are you telling me it’s legal to rape and brutally beat a woman so
badly she loses her unborn child? I refuse to believe you!”
Will stayed calm, making no attempt to remove his Captain’s hands. Selar lifted
the hand containing the hypospray, but Jean-Luc growled,
“Put it away, Doctor. I’ve had enough drugs!”
Deanna gently laid her hands over Jean-Luc’s and said quietly,
“Let’s sit down, Captain, it’s not Will’s fault.”
The effort to regain his composure was plain to see. He forced his hands open
and released Will, then slowly sat down, but his entire body was rigid.
Again Will hunkered down, but he refrained from touching his Captain, instead
resting his elbows on his own knees and loosely clasping his hands.
“It the lurin thing, Captain. Apparently lurin have no legal standing, no
rights and no protection under the law. Although it is a crime to kill a lurin,
it’s not a crime to chastise them.”
His voice soft, it lost none of its pent up rage.
“And what about Monique and our unborn?”
The Lieutenant spoke for the first time.
“Had the males who perpetrated the crimes not been...killed, Captain, they
would have faced charges of murder, of both your daughter and the unborn child.
Also they would have been charged with the defilement of your daughter and with
interfering with a ...corpse.” She hung her head and whispered,
“I’m sorry, Captain.”
Deanna could sense Jean-Luc was closing down. His voice was flat and
emotionless as he asked,
“And what would’ve been their punishment?”
“The children of lurin are not considered valued citizens, however it is
illegal to kill them, but with you and your family being...forgive me,
Captain...aliens, capital punishment would not have applied. The perpetrators
would have faced incarceration in the correctional centre for a lengthy time,
Sir, where they would have been required to attend therapy for anger
management.”
“Anger management? Not sexual violence? Not paedophilia? Not necrophilia?”
No one said anything. What could be said?
After an uncomfortable silence, the Lieutenant said quietly,
“Captain, although we are determined to make sure it doesn’t happen, the Ereban
government is very keen to see what they consider justice carried out. If your
guilt is proven they are insisting the sentence of execution be carried out.”
“Execution?” Jean-Luc was withdrawing further into himself, but despite a
warning look from Deanna, the Lieutenant continued.
“Yes, Captain. Their method is death by exsanguination. The condemned’s throat
is slit.”
There was no reaction from Jean-Luc; he just sat stiffly, staring at his
manacled hands.
“But we’re not going to let that happen, Captain! We’re going to get you out of
here.”
Will nodded.
“It’s true, Captain. It wasn’t murder and it wasn’t unprovoked. You acted in
defence of your family. The Prime Directive doesn’t even count in this case.
Ereban is not a Federation member and they’re warp capable. If this goes to
trial, they’ll have to throw it out!”
There was a rap from the door. Without looking up, Jean-Luc said quietly,
“You’ll have to go now.”
Will, Deanna, Selar and the Lieutenant all looked at each other as Will slowly
stood. It was he who said softly,
“Okay, Sir. We’ll come back tomorrow.”
Just as they moved awkwardly in the cramped space, Deanna bent and whispered in
Jean-Luc’s ear,
“I’ll tell Beverly and David you send your love.”
There was no reaction. Once they were gone, Jean-Luc lay down on his back and
stared intently at the recessed light in the ceiling. It was bright and hurt
his eyes, but he refused to even blink. His memories, all of them had returned.
 
Once outside the cell, Will asked the guard,
“Would it be possible to speak to Captain Picard’s legal representative?”
The huge man nodded.
“Yes, I think so. Follow me.”
They were led through a labyrinth of corridors past row after row of cells,
each with the door firmly shut. What struck Deanna was the absolute silence.
She had found Erebans not as easy to sense as humans, but from what she was
getting, she could only surmise every patient was sedated.
Eventually they entered a brightly lit, moderately large room. Some effort had
been made to decorate it; the walls were painted in soft pastel colours, the
ceiling white. The floor was carpeted in a thick plum covering and three
landscapes graced the walls. On a shelf under a barred window was a large blue
vase filled with what Deanna was sure were artificial flowers. Still, it was
better than the cramped metal box their Captain endured.
At a wooden table with comfortably padded (although far too large) chairs they
waited half an hour before a harried looking Ereban female joined them. She
introduced herself as Advocate Jeran. Will made the introductions of his team
taking care to point out the Lieutenant was a JAG officer. Trying not to gloat,
the Advocate pointed out that as Ereban was not yet a member of the Federation,
the Judge Advocate General had no power or jurisdiction in the case. Will
tucked his chin in and stifled the urge to tell her to go fuck herself.
Deanna easily sensed his anger and frustration and spoke to ease the situation.
“We would like to discuss Captain Picard’s case, if you don’t mind?”
The Advocate shrugged.
“There’s not much to discuss, Counsellor. It’s pretty much an open and shut
case.”
Will smiled.
“So you agree he acted to defend his family.”
Jeran frowned, obviously confused.
“Sorry? Your Captain has been charged with three counts of unprovoked murder. I
can’t see how his guilt won’t be proven.”
“You are his defence Advocate, aren’t you?” Will asked curtly.
“Yes.” Jeran replied tartly.
“Then why aren’t you defending him?” Deanna’s soft hand on his knee made him
take a calming breath.
“Look, Advocate, the facts are three Ereban males attacked, without
provocation, a pregnant woman, savagely beat her, brutally raped her in every
orifice and in the process, caused the death of her unborn child. Now if that
wasn’t bad enough, they also murdered her four year old daughter and after her
death, they raped her too, Captain Picard walked in just as they were finishing
raping his dead daughter. He saw his battered partner lying semi-conscious in a
pool of blood, the body of his unborn child lying between her legs. Beside her
was the violated body of his dead daughter. Yes, he attacked and managed to
kill the males but he acted in defence of his family! It was NOT unprovoked!”
The advocate sighed and rubbed her forehead.
“If it were that simple, Commander, Captain Picard would not be here, he would
not have been charged and he would not be facing trial and execution!”
“Then what’s the problem?” Will was getting very exasperated. Deanna sought to
calm things down.
“What do you know that we don’t?”
With a look of gratitude, Jeran offered a tired smile.
“It was what happened later.” She sighed. “How much do you know about Ereban
male physiology?”
Will shrugged.
“Not that much I guess, except you’re all huge.”
That made the Advocate smile, lightening the mood a little.
“Yes we are, and we see humans as diminutive and frail, but human males have
one distinct advantage over Ereban males.”
“And that is?”
Jeran blushed, turning her tan skin a sallow light gold. “I’m aware that the
testicles of a human male are very sensitive and that a blow to that area can
render a human male in agony.”
Will nodded. “Yeah, so?”
“The same organs of an Ereban male are even more sensitive, but not only that.
They are extremely delicate. It’s not only the testes themselves, but even the
sack that contains them is very easily damaged. Young Ereban males, upon
reaching seed are taught how to protect themselves. Even in a fight between
Ereban males, they would never even consider attacking that area. Even the
slightest damage can render the male infertile and an infertile Ereban male is
a thing of great shame. It is not uncommon for an Ereban male to take his life
rather than live with the humiliation of not being able to produce seed.”
Will frowned and shook his head.
“If it’s such a flaw, such an Achilles Heel, why don’t your males wear some
kind of protective gear? I mean your species is so big and strong and robust. I
can’t believe your males would allow themselves to be so open to damage if the
stakes are so high.”
“Our medical scientists have been studying the problem for years. It seems to
be some kind of evolutionary error. Forgive me for being so personal,
Commander, but I have done some study on the differences between the sexual
organs of your species as opposed to mine. I have learned that human male’s
testes can raise and lower to keep an optimum temperature for healthy seed
production, is that correct?”
Will nodded, wondering just where this was going and what the hell it had to do
with the Captain.
“And I have also learned that the kind of undergarments a human male wears is
important for the same reason.”
“Yes. Too warm or cool and sperm production falls.”
The Advocate nodded, her blush deepening.
“In Ereban males, the testes, all four of them must hang outside the body with
no encumbrance. If the temperature alters even in the slightest, seed
production ceases and it does not restart! There is, within the Ereban male’s
body, an organ which regulates a constant temperature of the testes. Protecting
the area with a cover or shield just isn’t possible.”
Deanna sat on the edge of the huge chair and asked softly,
“What has this to do with our Captain?”
“When Captain Picard entered the living room, he stood motionlessly for several
seconds then exploded into action.”
Tapping her finger on the table, the Lieutenant asked,
“How do you know this? Captain Picard has no memory of the events.”
“The entire thing was recorded.”
Will was on his feet in seconds.
“What?”
Gently tugging his sleeve, Deanna coaxed Will back to his seat. The Advocate
offered an apologetic smile.
“Your Captain, his lurin and the children were recorded from the first moment
they set foot on Ereban. Everywhere they went; everything they did. It was a
standard security procedure.”
Will’s voice was laced with ice as he said,
“Her name is Doctor Beverly Crusher and she is Captain Picard’s partner!”
Jeran shrugged and inclined her head by way of apology.
Deanna hoped Will could keep his temper under control. Happily it was the
Lieutenant who asked,
“Well if you saw what happened, what’s the problem?”
“As I said before, it was what your Captain did after he had rendered the
attackers helpless.”
Deanna felt alarm.
“What did he do?”
“Your Captain must have been aware of the very specific vulnerability of an
Ereban male because he targeted his attack on the groin area. He quickly
rendered the first male helpless with a well-aimed kick and the second with a
series of extremely hard punches. With only one attacker left, a fight ensued.
The third male spent most of his time trying to protect his groin while
attempting to get your Captain into a position where he could...nullify him.”
“Kill him, you mean.” Said Will with barely unrestrained anger.
“Commander, we have to keep emotions out of this. Let’s just stick with the
facts, hmm?”
Will glared sullenly.
“Your Captain, realising he couldn’t land a crippling blow, spent his time
punching and kicking the third male’s face and stomach and I must say, your
Captain is far stronger than he looks. The post mortem shows he actually
managed to not only bruise the male, but actually cut him.”
Will felt a surge of pride and satisfaction for his CO.
“But he was tiring. The third male noticed and said something to your Captain.
The audio isn’t very clear, our techs are working on it, but it appears he was
saying something about the Captain’s deceased daughter, probably trying to goad
him.”
“Bastard!” Snapped Will.
The Advocate shot Will a hot glare and continued.
“Captain Picard then did something completely unexpected. He opened his mouth
wide, although audio picked up no sound, and lowered his head, then charged.
The third male was taken completely by surprise. The Captain’s head smashed
into the male’s testicles, bursting all four. He dropped to the floor, utterly
helpless. The post mortems show the first male had three burst testes, the
second two. Now we get to the problem. Your Captain has now rendered the
attackers helpless. There is no more threat. But instead of going to his
lur....partner or calling for the authorities, he didn’t hesitate but went to
each male and did something so shocking I find it difficult to describe.”
She took a deep breath.
“The larynx of an Ereban is a sacred organ. It is what gives us our distinctive
voice and it is interconnected with the major blood vessels of the neck. To
deliberately attack the larynx is an act of blasphemy, but your Captain went to
each male and deliberately and with great force, kicked each male in the
larynx, thus crushing the organ and rupturing the blood vessels. The males died
clutching at their throats, unable to breathe and drowning in their own blood.
That is why he has been charged with unprovoked murder and that is why he will
be found guilty and executed!”
“Holy shit!” Will gaped. “Captain Picard did that?”
“If he’d only waited a few minutes, Commander. Someone in the apartment block
had summoned the authorities with a complaint about the noise. They arrived two
and a half minutes after Captain Picard had murdered the last male.”
Everyone sat in stunned silence. The Lieutenant’s voice was hushed as she
asked,
“Why is the execution death by exsanguination?”
The Advocate smiled sadly.
“It’s the blood. Blood is what ties us, family life. Life force.”
“But why slit the throat? There are many more...humane ways of killing a person
by exsanguination.”
With a sigh, the Advocate shrugged.
“You remember I told you the larynx is sacred?”
“Yes.”
“The blade that is used is very special. It has been made of a metal that has
been laser sharpened until it is so keen the convicted criminal barely feels
it. The cut...” She frowned and seemed worried. “I will have to make sure the
dispatcher does not press too hard, lest he decapitate your Captain.” She shook
her head.
“Anyway, with an Ereban, the cut is made from the bottom of one ear, down in an
arc across the neck to the bottom of the opposite ear, making sure the larynx
is severed in half. A special funnel is used to collect all the blood and once
the official Doctor has declared the criminal dead, the blood is taken away and
processed until it is reduced to a granular powder. The body is then taken and
restored, but the larynx is left severed. The family, who are required to
witness the execution, are then given the body and the urn containing the
granulated blood. How the family dispose of the body is up to them, there are
many endorsed methods of disposal, but the urn is taken to the criminal’s home
and taken to their room where a...what would you call it..?”
“A shrine?” Deanna suggested softly.
“Yes! A small shrine would have been made, containing a few precious mementos.
The urn would be put in the centre. In this way, the blood, the family tie is
not broken.”
“And why is the larynx left severed if the body is restored?” Deanna was
intensely curious,
“So the spirit cannot tell of his crimes in the afterlife! Can you imagine what
it would be like if you died innocent, larynx intact only to listen to a
criminal talk about the crime that led to their execution for all eternity?”
“Ah, I suppose not.”
A quiet beeping sounded and the Advocate consulted a small device clipped to
her sleeve.
“I’m sorry, I have to go, I have another appointment.”
She stood, but paused when Will asked softly,
“How long have you been an Advocate?”
“Twelve years.”
“Always for the defence?”
“Yes.”
“Ever won a case?”
“No, never.”
She left and Will lowered his head into his hands.
“Oh fuck. We’re in deep shit.”
 
Will, having already established the fact that he would not tolerate being kept
waiting unnecessarily, was pleased when the minister for interstellar affairs
was only five minutes late for their meeting. As soon as she entered her office
(another improvement), he could see by her smug self-satisfied smile that she’d
seen the recording of the murders.
She took her place behind her enormous desk and rested her arms on the top.
“How may I help you, Commander Riker?”
Her tone was amicable, but her eyes were cold. Will summoned his best
diplomatic smile and tried to look comfortable in the too-large chair.
“Since there has been no date set for Captain Picard’s trial yet, I would like
to request that he be allowed to return to his ship for a visit. He needs to
wash properly, shave...”
The minister held up one hand.
“I’m sorry. Shave?”
Taking a steady breath, Will kept Deanna’s words running through his head like
a mantra.
“Stay calm, stay calm.”
“Human males, upon reaching puberty, grow hair on their bodies. The hair is
thicker in some areas than others. One of the places the hair grows is on the
face and neck. You may have noticed Captain Picard’s cheeks, under his nose,
his chin and neck are now covered in stiff hair. If you recall, when he first
arrived on Ereban, he was clean-shaven. By that I mean he had removed the hair
from his face.”
The minister stared openly at Will’s beard.
“You do not...shave.”
“No, minister I do not, although I do trim and shape my beard. It’s a personal
choice, ma’am. Some men shave, some don’t. Captain Picard prefers to shave.”
“And how often does one shave?”
“Every day. Usually in the morning.”
“How interesting! Erebans have hair only on their heads as do humans...except
Captain Picard. Does he shave his head also?”
That made Will smile.
“No, minister. Captain Picard has inherited what is known as male alopecia. It
is commonly called baldness. The hair on his head fell out when he was a young
man.”
The female looked very confused.
“And he allowed this? Can your medical scientists not prevent it from
happening?”
“Yes they can. Not only can the condition be successfully treated, the
defective gene could’ve been removed from his DNA.”
“Then why did he not do that?”
With a soft snort, Will offered a small smile.
“You have to know the man, minister. He is very traditional and quite accepting
of his appearance. He decided to let nature take its course. Apparently
baldness has occurred in the males of his family for generations. Actually, I
think he wears his baldness with some pride...like some kind of family badge of
honour.”
The female smiled warmly for the first time.
“Well, I can understand that. I take it he only lost the hair on top of his
head, not anywhere else?”
“No ma’am he’s quite hirsute everywhere else on his body.”
That made the female wrinkled her nose with distaste.
“Yes well, that aside, I’m not sure it’s appropriate for your Captain to be
granted the opportunity for such a trivial reason as having a wash and a shave.
I’m sure we could arrange for him to do that here.”
Will kept his smile in place, but it took an effort.
“It’s not just his ablutions, minister. He needs to be with his partner and
their son. He is their only surviving child and all three are suffering
terrible grief. Captain Picard’s health, both mental and physical is
deteriorating. He needs to be with his family, if only for a short visit.”
The minister’s face became cold.
“Captain Picard’s trial is pending, Commander and his execution will follow
immediately afterwards. If he is suffering as you say, I can assure you he
won’t have too much longer to wait until it is all over and he will suffer no
more.”
Pursing his lips, Will said quietly,
“Minister, the Ereban people are not deliberately cruel. Captain Picard needs
to see his family and they need to see him. If he is indeed going to be
executed, then surely his partner and son should be given the dignity of saying
good bye to him in the privacy of their own home. I’m sure you can imagine
their anguish at the thought of losing him too.”
“A lurin has no...”
“Doctor Crusher is NOT a damned lurin!” He shouted. Will struggled to calm
himself. “Just because the Captain and Doctor Crusher are not married does not
mean they don’t love each other or have not committed themselves to each other
to the exclusion of all others! It is their very deep and abiding love for each
other that prompted them to have children.” He took a deep breath. “Minister,
please don’t judge us by your standards. To marry or not is a choice for many
species, not just humans and just because we do things differently does not
necessarily mean that it’s wrong. Different is just that. Different! Not right
or wrong.”
The minister sat back in her chair and raised her pale eyebrows.
“You say their relationship is exclusive. What does that mean, exactly?”
“It is also called monogamy. It means they would only ever be intimate with
each other and that means all kinds of intimacy, not just sexual.”
“So you’re telling me the lurin does not lie with other men?”
Somehow Will held his anger in check.
“Yes, Minister and I can tell you that Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher have
been in a monogamous relationship for over twenty years.”
“Oh, I see.” The minister’s surprise was obvious. “Well, that doesn’t sound
like the behaviour of a lurin, Commander. It seems I...we might have misjudged
Doctor Crusher.”
“So it would seem.” Will remarked dryly. “So, Minister, may Captain Picard
visit his family...on the Enterprise?”
Her intense stare made Will understand he was being assessed. Apparently he
passed.
“Yes, Commander, he can. I will, of course, insist on guards, a light sedative
and restraints but...”
Will shook his head. “No, Minister. No drugs, no restraints and only one guard.
And he will not accompany the Captain inside his quarters.”
The female blinked her surprise.
“Commander, you are not in any position to dictate to me how I...”
“Actually, Minister, I am. I have at my disposal the means to annihilate every
living thing on this planet, in fact, I can destroy the entire planet if I so
wish. Now we are willing to allow the trial to take place, because we have
evidence that your judiciary may find mitigates the Captain’s actions, but hear
me now, I will NOT be allowing you to execute Captain Picard, no matter what
the verdict is. I will do whatever it takes to liberate him before I permit any
part of him to be harmed.”
Cold anger seethed from the female.
“Then why bother with the trial? To us it is justice being seen to be done. To
you, Commander it is nothing but a charade! What do you hope to achieve? Are
you trying to placate us? Do you have some kind of hidden agenda? Are we going
to wake up to find Ereban a conquered race with the Federation as our
overlords?”
Will sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think, Minister? You know enough about
the Federation to know that won’t ever happen! You speak of justice; well
Captain Picard is just as entitled to justice as your people. Now I have told
you we have evidence that goes a long way towards explaining...mitigating
Captain Picard’s actions and we will be presenting it at his trial. We do this
according to your law, but my position is unequivocal. Captain Picard is not
going to be executed.”
Will stood and strode to the door. He took the handle in his fist and turned to
look over his shoulder.
“And just so you know, Minister. Ereban will not be joining the Federation.
Normally it is the Captain’s job to write the report on the suitability of a
candidate world, based on his experience and personal opinion but after what
has happened here and the fact that your people don’t seem to be able to accept
even the most basic tenets of the Federation, I can’t see the Federation Coucil
agreeing to admit you.”
The female actually gaped.
“If Captain Picard won’t be writing the report, who will?”
For the first time, Will allowed his shit eating grin some time to shine.
“That would be me.”
“We will contest your report. It’s obviously prejudiced!”
“Really? Minister, we have enough evidence to keep your planet out of the
Federation for the next century! As I see it, you have two choices. You can
keep going as you are, treating members of your own society as pariahs,
executing people with little legal right and carrying on as if your superiority
of family ties will protect you from outside aggression, or...and this would be
my advice, get your act together and start looking past your own damned noses!
There’s a whole galaxy out there, minister.” Will pointed at the ceiling. “If
you think this little local squabble you’re so worried about is a problem,
think again. Sooner or later, someone is going to come and find you and decide
they want what you have and if you don’t have the protection of something as
powerful as the Federation, then God help you, because we won’t lift a finger
to help unless you make some big and very rapid changes.”
He opened the door and strode out, not bothering to close it behind him. Rarely
had he felt so damned good.
 
Beverly was still confined to Sick Bay when Jean-Luc materialised on the
transporter pad. David was waiting and went to run into his father’s arms, but
the man standing on the pad bore little resemblance to his Papa. He was very
thin, his hair needed cutting, he had a straggly, moth-eaten white beard and he
seemed stooped, the baggy tan overalls and sloppy sippers completing the image.
And the enormous being standing at his father’s side scared the hell out of
him. The boy came to an abrupt halt, his eyes wide and staring. Nothing was
said for a few seconds before Jean-Luc slowly lifted his arms and said
brokenly,
“David? David, mon petite.”
Hearing his father’s soft voice broke David’s impasse.
“Papa!” He called, running the few metres that separated them. He hit his
father’s body hard, wrapping his arms around the man and hugging him fiercely,
his face pressed against Jean-Luc’s stomach. Jean-Luc absorbed the impact and
returned the hug, kissing the top of David’s head and trying not to weep.
Moments passed before David eased his grip of his father and leaned back so he
could see his face.
“You don’t look so good, Papa. Are you all right?”
The man smiled, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“I’m fine, David, nothing a hot shower, a shave and some nice clean clothes
won’t fix.”
They walked out of the Transporter room together, Jean-Luc immensely pleased
when David slipped his hand into his. It had been a long time since his son had
done that. When Jean-Luc noticed David kept sneaking scared peeks over his
shoulder at the following enormous alien guard, Jean-Luc squeezed his hand and
lowered his head to say softly,
“Ignore him. Just pretend he’s not there.”
At the turbolift, Jean-Luc asked,
“How is Maman?”
The frown that settled on David’s face worried the Captain.
“Not so good, Papa. Doctor Selar has fixed her up, you know all the injuries
and stuff, but Aunt Deanna has had a lot of problems with her.” He sighed.
“Papa, Aunt Deanna told me that Maman went to a safe place in her mind. I don’t
understand why. I mean I know that what happened was really bad...” He sighed
and squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to cry and his voice wavered as he
continued.
“I really miss Monique. I keep thinking that maybe, if I had been there...”
The lift car arrived and the door hissed open, but instead of entering, Jean-
Luc went down on one knee and embraced his son. David rested his head on Jean-
Luc shoulder and cried.
After a minute or two, David lifted his head and Jean-Luc kissed his forehead.
“Surely you’ve been told that it would’ve made no difference, David, in fact
you probably would have been killed too...then what would your Maman and I have
done then?”
Jean-Luc drew his son to him and gently held him.
“My sweet, precious son. I need your help and so does your Maman.”
David straightened his spine and squared his thin shoulders.
“I’ll help, Papa, I’ll do anything, anything you want.”
“Then let’s go home so I can have a shower and stop smelling like Roquefort
cheese. Then we can talk, and then we’ll go and see Maman.”
David smiled for the first time and wrinkled his nose. Another lift car arrived
and as they entered, the boy sniggered and waved his hand under his nose,
muttering,
“You do smell really bad, Papa.”
Jean-Luc smiled.
“I know, but not for too much longer.”
 
Standing at his bathroom mirror, scrubbed clean and shaved, Jean-Luc inspected
the bright red rash on his face. He’d discovered the same rash over his groin
area under the shower. He suspected his guess about some kind of infestation
was correct. Turning his head from side to side, he sighed with irritation.
Against his pale skin, the rash stood out like a beacon. On closer inspection
he could see the skin was covered with hundreds of tiny pustules, the isorazor
had taken off their tops and they oozed a milky green fluid. When he thought of
the same rash in his groin he grimaced, then found he couldn’t resist a sudden
irresistible need to scratch his scrotum. The itch was so intense he scratched
hard enough to cause pain in the sensitive area. The thought of having to go to
Selar for treatment made him close his eyes and lower his head. Still, it was
the least of his worries.
Quickly dressing in civilian clothing, he revelled in the feeling of the
familiar soft material of his own clothes. A soft knock on the door made him
smile, but the pang of grief that followed almost brought him to his knees.
Monique used to knock just like that. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath,
steadied himself and opened the door. He almost smiled when he saw David’s
overt reaction to seeing his father’s face and his efforts to quickly hide it.
“It’s all right, David. I seemed to have picked up some kind of infection in
the hospital. I’m sure Doctor Selar will eradicate it in no time.”
David nodded a little uncertainly and Jean-Luc realised he was worried.
“Really, David, I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Licking his lips, the boy said softly,
“Do you think it’s catching?”
That hadn’t occurred to Jean-Luc. He frowned and idly scratched his cheek, his
fingers coming away wet with sticky fluid.
“Ah, I don’t know, but I’m sure Doctor Selar will be able to tell us. If it
is...” He shrugged. “I suppose you’ll be treated too.”
David’s eyes went from Jean-Luc’s shiny fingertips to his oozing face and
couldn’t suppress a shudder. “I think you’d better see Doctor Selar before you
see Maman.”
With a sigh, Jean-Luc nodded.
“Yes, that might be best.”
They’d had a long talk while Jean-Luc showered. Ever since David was a little
boy he had always showered with his father, but once he turned six he decided
he wanted to shower on his own in his bedroom’s ensuite. But he had developed
the habit of coming into the master bedroom ensuite and sitting on the closed
toilet seat while his father showered. They’d talk about all sorts of things
and the fact that David had chosen to do it at this time was a great comfort to
Jean-Luc. The boy had returned to the living area by the time the Captain
finally turned off the hot water. It had probably been the longest shower he’d
ever taken. He’d remained in the stall for a little while, just enjoying the
feeling of being naked and clean. Shaving had been very uncomfortable and he
now knew why, but even with the oozing rash he still felt better without the
beard.
They left their quarters together, the guard remarkably polite by staying a
discreet distance behind. As arranged, he had not entered Jean-Luc’s quarters.
Jean-Luc hesitated just outside Sick Bay’s main doors, causing David to look up
at him. For reasons he couldn’t readily identify, Jean-Luc was frightened.
“Papa?”
Summoning a smile he hoped looked convincing, the man said,
“I’m fine. Come on, let’s go inside and see Maman.”
When Jean-Luc stood beside Beverly’s sleeping form he nearly wept with relief
that he didn’t have to say anything to her just yet. Whispering to David, he
said,
“You stay here with Maman while I go and see Doctor Selar. I won’t be long...I
hope.” He was about to leave, but turned back and placed a very soft kiss on
Beverly’s brow. She sighed in her sleep, but was otherwise undisturbed.
Deanna, who was with Selar in Beverly’s office, frowned when she’d felt the
surge of relief coming from her Captain. She watched through the window as he
spoke softly to his son, then hesitated before kissing his partner and heading
their way. She gasped when he entered the office.
“Captain!”
He held up his hand.
“I know; I’m hoping it looks worse than it is.” To Selar he said, while
gesturing to his face,
“Would you examine me please, Doctor?”
“Of course, Captain. If you will come with me, Sir?”
As they headed out the door, Jean-Luc said,
“You might as well come too, Counsellor, I know you want to talk to me.”
In Jean-Luc’s private room, Selar scanned his face with a medical tricorder.
She studied the screen and slowly closed the device.
“So,” Asked Jean-Luc.”What is it, some kind of lice infestation?”
“No, Captain, it’s a little more serious than that.”
“What is it then?”
“It is a type of worm, Captain, a nematode. It burrows into the skin until it
breaks through to your blood stream. There it deposits its eggs which travel
through your body, forming cysts that grow and attach themselves to your major
organs The fluid they excrete is a mixture of their excrement and pus. Your
body is producing antibodies in response to the infection, but with so many
worms your system is being overwhelmed. I take it you have discomfort
elsewhere?”
Doing his best to remain stoic, Jean-Luc nodded.
“Yes. My groin area and just in the last few days, my armpits.”
“That is consistent as the worms proliferate in warm, humid conditions.”
“Can you treat it?”
“Yes, Captain, but it is a lengthy process. I need you to disrobe completely
and lie on the bed. You may cover yourself with a sheet of you so desire.”
Jean-Luc hid his embarrassment well, but Deanna felt its full force.
“I’ll wait outside, Captain.”
“Thank you, Counsellor.”
Within minutes Selar returned to find Jean-Luc was lying naked and uncovered.
If she was surprised at his uncharacteristic lack of modesty she didn’t show
it.
The examination was excruciatingly thorough. When Selar finally switched off
her scanner she tilted her head.
“It is a heavy infestation, Captain. Have you felt unwell at all?”
“Not really, although I have no appetite, no desire to eat, but I am constantly
thirsty.”
She gave a curt nod.
“Common symptoms. I will begin treatment immediately.”
He received three injections and was required to swallow a foul tasting liquid.
“Soon you will begin to pass bloody bowel movements which will be loose. I will
require you to report to Sick Bay three times a day. The treatment should take
approximately four weeks to totally eradicate the infestation and the cysts.”
“That’s going to be a problem, Doctor. My time here today is limited, I am to
return to the...hospital soon and I’m not sure when I can return.”
Selar bowed her head in thought.
“Then I will have to come to you, Captain. It is imperative we rid you of the
infestation. If one or more of the cysts were to burst, your life would be in
danger. And, Captain, my scans show at least two small cysts have already
formed in your brain as well as several other places in your body.”
The irony was not lost on the Captain. He shrugged and said sardonically,
“Death by burst cyst, or exsanguination. Fancy having a choice in the method of
my own demise.”
Not knowing what to say to that, Selar simply said,
“You may dress now, Captain.”
As he got off the bed he asked,
“Is it contagious?”
He was pulling on his underwear when he just had to scratch around the base of
his penis. He’d turned away and Selar had averted her eyes. To ease his
embarrassment she answered his question as if nothing was amiss.
“Yes and no, Captain. It isn’t generally highly contagious, but skin to skin
contact could pass eggs, excreted in the excrement from the host to a new
carrier. You probably were infected in your cell; the eggs would have been in
your bedding and possibly clinging to the surface of the waste disposal device.
The eggs can lay dormant for years until they find a host.”
By now slipping on his shoes, Jean-Luc sighed.
“Then you’d best scan Commander Riker, my son and Doctor Crusher.”
“I will do so and you needn’t worry, Captain. Outside, before the worms hatch,
the eggs are easy to find with the appropriate equipment. And judging by the
amount of time they were exposed, I feel only Commander Riker may be at risk.”
Jean-Luc couldn’t help it, he laughed, making Selar frown.
“Captain?”
“That’ll teach the Commander not to hug me.”
He left the room and with Deanna in tow, made his way back to his sleeping
lover.
 
It was as if Beverly knew, albeit subliminally that Jean-Luc was with her. Even
in her sleep she smiled and when her eyes opened she wasn’t surprised to see
him. What did widen her gaze was his rash-covered face. A frown developed as
she lifted a hand to touch his cheek, but he gently caught it and smiled.
“Better not, my love.”
“Looks like a nematode infestation.”
He grinned.
“Spot on.”
David, thinking their behaviour was a little odd, given the circumstances, felt
unsure what exactly was going on. He’d expected tears and hugs and grief,
certainly not idle chatting about his father’s rash. He was sitting on the bed,
watching and waiting.
“I take it Selar has it in hand?”
“Oh yes,” agreed Jean-Luc. “I’ve had the three injections and the lovely
liquid.”
Beverly grimaced. “Tastes ghastly, doesn’t it? You’d think in this day and age,
they could come up with something a little more pleasant tasting.”
It was then that Beverly glanced over Jean-Luc’s shoulder and saw his guard.
Panic shot through her. She clutched at the bedclothes and began to whimper.
Tightening his grip on her hand, Jean-Luc followed her gaze and realised the
source of her terror. His face hardened and he clenched his jaw.
“Get out!”
The guard, seeing how distressed Beverly was becoming and being sensitive
enough to guess the reason why, bowed his massive head and said quietly,
“I will wait outside.”
From Beverly a soft keening began which slowly became a wail. Tears flowed from
her eyes as Jean-Luc bent and gathered her into his arms. Try as he might, he
was helpless to prevent himself from weeping. The couple clung desperately to
each other, the weeping quickly becoming wracking sobs. David began to cry and
shifted up the bed until he could ease one arm around his mother’s back.
Watching from a discreet distance, Deanna’s face was wet with tears.
“Oh my God...such heartache.” Her thoughts went to her lost son, Ian, and the
remembered grief at his departure from her life. Although he’d been an alien
and only stayed with her for a short time, she had given birth to him and loved
him and his abrupt absence had left a hollowness deep inside her that had never
fully healed. But even so, although she sensed the terrible grief and anguish
coming from her friends she knew she would never truly understand the depths of
their loss and part of her was grateful. She comforted herself with the
knowledge that with time, she would be able to help them come to terms with
what had happened, but she was suddenly brought up short. Her Captain and dear
friend was facing execution. How on Earth could she help them with such little
time and how would it be possible to get Beverly through his loss. Somehow,
even though Beverly would still have David, she wondered if that would be
enough. The love Jean-Luc and Beverly shared was deeply profound. Probably the
most extraordinary bond between two people she’d ever come across. If indeed
the Captain was executed, Deanna seriously doubted Beverly would live without
him. And even if she did, her mental capacity would without doubt be severely
compromised. Either way, David would effectively lose both parents. He would be
alone, an orphan.
Shaking her head in frustrated anger and sorrow, Deanna wiped savagely at her
eyes, cursing the fates.
It was some time before Jean-Luc began to regain some control. He took some
deep, steadying breaths and lifted his head still clutching Beverly to him, but
upon seeing his poor shattered son, he let go with one arm and gathered the boy
to him. David rested his head on his father’s chest, wrapping his free arm
around his torso and softly moaned through his tears. Beverly heard him and
turned her head to look under Jean-Luc’s chin. The sight of both her partner
and son gave her back some strength. Yes, their beloved and irreplaceable
little daughter was gone and the loved baby she’d carried was lost, but they
still had each other and she knew as long as they stayed together they would,
somehow, get through this hideous time.
Beverly had made good progress so far in accepting what had happened to
Monique, the baby and indeed her own violation, but what she had yet to accept
was Jean-Luc’s situation. Although she’d been told what awaited him she either
chose not to believe it, or was simply unable to accept it. She removed one arm
from her partner and gently caressed David’s face, saying softly,
“I’ll be out of here in a few days and we can all be together at home. I’ll
make one of your favourite dishes, David, nachos with real sour cream and sweet
chilli sauce. How about that?”
David cast his father a confused look and was further upset when his mother
said, “Papa will probably insist on some really posh cheese, but I think I can
talk him into some plain old cheddar.”
Jean-Luc knew he had to say something but it was so very difficult to find the
right words. Leaning back a little, he put a small distance between them and
placed his hands so that they cradled Beverly’s face. Careful not to disturb
the derma patches, he tenderly kissed her and said very gently,
“I can’t stay, my love. I have to return to the hospital on Ereban.”
Beverly frowned and looked carefully at the rash on his face.
“Scabs are forming Jean-Luc and you said Selar is treating you. Why do you have
to go to the Ereban hospital? There’s nothing they can do that we can’t.”
“It’s not a medical hospital, Beverly.” He said gently.
Now becoming wary and confused, Beverly asked with rising panic,
“Well what sort of hospital is it?”
Taking a deep breath, Jean-Luc tried to smile to try and make light of the
situation.
“Ah, actually, it’s a psychiatric hospital.”
“What? Why are you in one of those?”
“Beverly, I killed those males who raped you, killed our unborn child and
murdered Monique. Very soon I will stand trial for those killings and the most
likely outcome is that I will be executed.”
Beverly began to shake her head, her hands dropping to the bed to grip the
linens.
“That can’t be right! You saved me...you tried to save Monique, Surely it was
self defence!”
“The law on Ereban is a little different to ours, Beverly. Instead of being
presumed innocent until proven guilty, on Ereban one is presumed guilty until
proven innocent and to compound matters, I killed those three males when they
were helpless and no longer presenting any threat. In the eyes of Ereban law, I
am guilty of unprovoked murder. It is up to my Advocate to prove otherwise.”
Her voice wavering and her lower lip trembling, Beverly was struggling to keep
a grip on her fragile state of mind.
“And can he? Can he prove your innocence?”
“It’s a she. Advocate Jeran. I’m sure she’ll do her best, but our case is
hampered by the fact that the entire attack was recorded. On the face of it, it
seems the case is rather cut-and-dried. Once I had rendered each assailant
helpless, I did not call the authorities, I did not summon medical help, I
didn’t even go to see to you, without a second’s hesitation, I killed the three
males.”
“But, Jean-Luc...unprovoked murder?”
“I know, the thing is, my love, I have no memory of doing it. I can only
surmise I was so subsumed by rage I completely lost control.”
“But, Jean-Luc, that is in itself a defence! Do you have any memory at all of
what happened?”
“Not of the killing, no.”
“Then what? What do you remember?”
Sighing, Jean-Luc tried to ease Beverly’s head back onto the pillow. David saw
what his father was doing and tried to help. Beverly would have none of it. She
clung desperately to her anger, her outrage. Her Jean-Luc’s life was at stake!
Seeing that she wasn’t going to give up, Jean-Luc sighed and bowed his head in
pain and grief.
“The door was open when I arrived, but I had to push it to see inside. You were
lying on your back, your legs apart. You had been brutally beaten and in a
growing pool of blood between your legs I saw the little body of our unborn
child. Lying near you, not far away, an Ereban male had just finished
defiling....” He had begun to tremble and David put a comforting hand on his
father’s arm. “Monique was dead and they had raped her. I stood motionlessly
for a few seconds and I saw you looking at me and suddenly I attacked the
males.
“There was a fight, but my memory of that is patchy. As I said, I don’t
remember how or why I killed them.”
David said quietly,
“You must’ve been really mad, Papa. They are really big and strong and there
were three of them.”
Jean-Luc’s smile was wan.
“Always be prepared, David. On our way to Ereban, part of my research into
their culture and society included a broad description of their physiology and
I discovered, despite their enormous size and strength, the males have a very
obvious and easily exploitable flaw. It was that flaw that I concentrated on.
As it turned out I was successful.”
Beverly’s anger was growing and she was becoming belligerent.
“Okay, so you killed the bastards, why subject yourself to their law? You know
damned well they deserved what they got!”
Patiently, Jean-Luc said,
“Although Ereban isn’t a Federation member and as a warp-capable species the
Prime Directive doesn’t apply, my oath to Starfleet includes me respecting the
customs and laws of all species we encounter. I have no choice, Beverly. I must
comply with their law.”
“Fuck that!”
David’s eyes were like saucers. He’d never heard his mother say anything even
remotely like that before.
“Don’t go down there, Jean-Luc! Stay on the ship. There’s not a damned thing
they can do about it! They summoned us because they lack the technology and
weaponry to adequately defend themselves. There’s absolutely no way they could
forcibly remove you from this ship! They simply don’t have the means.”
“I can’t do that, Beverly, you know I can’t.”
She seemed to deflate in front of their eyes. Tears welled and her voice broke.
“But Jean-Luc, you and David...there’s just the three of us. Monique is gone,
the baby is gone....I can’t lose you too, I can’t...I can’t...”
No one had seen Selar’s approach but they all heard the hiss of the hypospray.
Beverly’s eyes closed and her body went limp. Deanna appeared at Selar’s side
and Jean-Luc saw she’d been crying. Blinking back his own tears he asked
quietly,
“How long will she sleep?”
“Several hours, Captain.” Selar’s eyes showed sympathy he’d never seen before
in a Vulcan.
“Then I shall not be here when she wakes. Please give her my love and I will
contact her if I can.”
He stood from the bed and bent to kiss Beverly’s lips. But as he turned to go,
David flung himself off the bed and grappled his father, clinging to the man
with such force, Jean-Luc found it difficult to breathe. Stoically he embraced
his son until eventually the boy let him go. Jean-Luc gently cradled his face
and lifted it, kissing first his brow, then both sides of his face.
“Never forget I love you, David. It is a burden one so young should never have
to bear, but I beseech you to look after Maman. She is going to need you.” With
tears streaming down his face, David begged,
“Don’t go, Papa, please, please don’t go!”
Going down on one knee, Jean-Luc gently hugged his son, kissed him again and
said softly
“Adieu, David, J’taime.”
As he turned to leave, Deanna stepped up behind David and wrapped her arms
around him. The boy twisted in her embrace and buried his face in her breast,
his body wracked with sobs.
 
Will Riker was waiting in the transporter Room as Jean-Luc and his guard
entered. As the two men took their places on the pad, Will looked into his
Captain’s eyes and, ignoring the guard, said quietly but firmly,
“You don’t have to do this, Captain.”
Somehow, Jean-Luc summoned a smile.
“You know I do, Will. It’s the price we must be prepared to pay when we take
our oath. I cannot be true to myself, or my family if I break my word.”
Just before the Captain gave the order to energise, he said to Will,
“Take good care of my loved ones, Will.”
The big man nodded, robbed of speech by the constricting lump in his throat.
Jean-Luc and his guard shimmered into non-existence and Will’s face contorted
into rage.
“Fuck! I’ll be damned if I let them get away with this...this...travesty!”
He stormed up to the Bridge and barked harshly to no one in particular,
“I want to talk to Command!”
He disappeared into the Ready Room as the officer at tactical sent the request
for contact. Wisely, he flagged it as urgent.
 
Admiral Hussein was a harried man. Since the end of the Dominion War three
years ago, Starfleet had been severely stretched. Then came the Borg incursion,
decimating the Federation. It had only been beginning to take on missions that
weren’t specifically involved with either reconstruction, relocation or general
support for those Federation worlds who had been directly affected. So when the
urgent call came from the Enterprise, Hussein was mildly surprised. Of all the
serving ship’s Captains, the last one he thought he’d be hearing from was Jean-
Luc Picard and it had only been by virtue of Jean-Luc’s reputation that Hussein
had finally taken the call, first trying to redirect it several times.
The Admiral didn’t bother to hide his irritation by the image of an obviously
angry first officer.
Will nodded, barely suppressing his anger.
“Admiral.”
Hussein glowered at the younger man and said tersely,
“Why are you calling me? Why has this communiqué been flagged as urgent? And
where the hell is Captain Picard?”
It took over half an hour and Will spared the Admiral nothing. He omitted none
of the horrific details, nor did he try to soften the details of what Jean-Luc
had done and that the entire attack, from start to finish had been recorded on
vid. He told the Admiral everything and watched as the older man sat back, his
shoulders slumped and his eyes closed. The audio was sensitive for Will to hear
his superior whisper,
“Oh, God, what a fuck up.”
Leaning forward, Will made sure his voice was steady, but he couldn’t keep the
anger out of his gaze.
“Admiral, we must stop this...trial.”
“When is it scheduled?”
Will sighed and shook his head.
“We haven’t been given a date yet, sir, but the Erebans keep saying it will be
‘soon’.”
“And this defence Advocate...”
“Jeran, Admiral. Advocate Jeran. A female.”
“She’s been a defence Advocate for twelve years and she’s never won a case?”
“No, Sir.”
“Well, Commander is there any way we can get a better Advocate for Captain
Picard?”
Will frowned in confusion. “Admiral, it’s not a matter of a better Advocate, we
have to stop them from trying Captain Picard! Surely you can see that any
society that bases its law on the presumption of guilt until proven innocent is
archaic! We can’t just sit back and feed the Captain to the wolves. We have to
do something!”
His voice hardening; Will saw a very different side to the Admiral.
“Commander, I have to look at the bigger picture. Those two planets the Erebans
are so worried about? Latest intel is that war is inevitable and Ereban is
going to be drawn in whether they like it or not. So my question to you is...do
you think Ereban is a suitable candidate for Federation membership?”
“I can’t believe this!” An outraged Will shouted. “Those bastards are going to
slit Captain Picard’s throat for...for...”
“Murder, Commander.”
Will’s shoulders slumped.
“From what you’ve told me, Captain Picard killed three Ereban males when they
no longer posed any threat. It was a deliberate act on his part and from what
you described, cold and calculated. Now I know your Captain, I’ve known him for
a very long time and I consider him a friend and I know he is by his very
nature not a violent man. And, speaking as a husband and father, I cannot
imagine what he must have felt when he saw what he did. But his actions took
place on Ereban soil and so come under their jurisdiction. To be brutally
frank, he broke the local law, and now he must allow Ereban justice to run its
natural course.”
“Justice! You call what they’re going to do justice?”
“Commander...”
Will stood, his big frame trembling with anger.
“You can’t do this, Admiral! Let me bring him up to the ship. I give you my
word not one Ereban citizen will be harmed.”
Taking a deep breath, the Admiral pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You haven’t answered my question, Commander.”
Momentarily thrown off, Will shook his head in confusion.
“Question, Admiral?”
“Do you consider Ereban a suitable candidate for Federation membership?”
Mouth agape, Will shook his head.
“No, Admiral I most certainly do not!”
“Well, your report will be given due consideration, but the feeling here is
that it would be to the Federation’s advantage if they were.”
Will’s face turned to stone.
“This is all about politics. You’re willing to sacrifice Captain Picard to
maintain a lucrative fucking trade agreement.”
Hussein gave Will a look of barely controlled anger.
“I will overlook your insubordination, Commander, I understand you’ve served
with Captain Picard for a very long time and you must feel a great deal of
loyalty towards him. I know he engenders a great deal of trust from those who
serve under him. But this is bigger than one man, even if that man is Jean-Luc
Picard.” He sighed and for the first time, Will saw pain and deep tiredness in
the man. “I can’t go into details, Commander, not with you, your security
clearance isn’t high enough, but there is more going on here than you realise.
But...Captain Picard does know.”
Sitting up, all traces of tiredness vanished.
“I’m going to give you a direct order, Commander Riker. Under no circumstances
will you interfere in the trial or execution of Captain Picard. Do I make
myself clear?”
Gritting his teeth, Will barely controlled himself to say curtly,
“Yes, Sir!”
“Hussein out.”
The screen went blank, so Admiral Hussein never saw Will grab the monitor and
heave it across the room, shouting at the top of his voice, “Fuck you!”
 
Obtaining a lengthy appointment with Doctor Absum was proving to be
extraordinarily difficult. Deanna and Selar had both made requests, but so far
all they had heard was that the Doctor was too busy to see them.
Finally, Selar invoked her position as acting CMO and her status as Jean-Luc’s
personal physician.
Eventually, after almost four hours’ waiting, Doctor Absum agreed, albeit
reluctantly, to grant them two hours after Selar had been to see her patient,
Picard. By the curt, dismissive tone of her voice the Enterprise women knew
their visit was unwelcome.
Because Jean-Luc had adequately demonstrated his willing compliance to his
confinement, he was no longer routinely drugged, but he was not allowed to
receive anyone into his cell without being manacled.
Selar showed no emotion at seeing her Captain clothed in the far too big
overalls and slippers, or the manacles on his wrists. She did, however notice
that although the pustules on his face had scabbed, he was again beginning to
grow stubble.
Having been previously thoroughly searched, Selar had been allowed to bring in
the medication Jean-Luc required. In silence she administered three hypos and
offered no reaction to Jean-Luc’s grimace as he swallowed the vile tasting
liquid. He was seated when she reached into her medkit and produced a bar of
bright yellow soap, To Jean-Luc’s raised eyebrow, she informed him,
“It is a specifically medicated formula, Captain. It will not only assist in
hastening the eradication of the worms in your skin, it will greatly reduce
your discomfort.”
He smiled his gratefulness, saying ruefully, “It is embarrassing, if I am
compelled to scratch such private areas if someone is with me.”
“I understand, Captain. There is one more thing. Although it will cause
irritation to your skin, it would be to your benefit if you could shave all the
affected areas.”
An image of his freshly shaven face with the tiny holes all over the bright red
skin, oozing greenish pus flashed into his mind.
“All areas?”
“Yes, Captain. Opening up the nematode’s entry points and exposing them to the
medicated soap with greatly accelerate their eradication. I am aware this may
be...uncomfortable for you, but really, Captain, it is the best thing to do.”
He stared down at the soap held in his right hand and sighed, thinking, “Groin,
armpits , face and neck. Wonderful!”
Selar looked around the cell and asked,
“Have any steps been taken to sterilise your...accommodation?”
Snorting with ghoulish humour at her choice of words, Jean-Luc nodded tiredly.
“Yes. When I returned I was told the cell, the bedding, everything had been
treated. Apparently this kind of infestation is not uncommon, but Erebans don’t
suffer quite as much and seem to have a modicum of immunity to it and also the
only hair they have on their bodies is on their head, limiting the areas
available for infestation. At least an infestation in an Ereban is not fatal.
It seems the life-cycle of the worm comes to a natural conclusion and the
infestation just dies out. Unfortunately, this doesn’t stop the worms excreting
their eggs. So the administrators aren’t very vigilant in making a concerted
effort to rid the facility of the eggs. I have been told I am the first human
ever to have been confined here. So they had no idea that I would be so
adversely affected.”
Selar sighed. “I have spent many hours studying what we know about Ereban
physiology and I know Counsellor Troi has spent a similar amount of time
investigating their society, basic jurisprudence and spiritual beliefs,
Captain. I have conferred with Counsellor Troi and we are in agreement: the
Ereban species is a very complex one. Speaking medically, there are several
anomalies in the physiology of both genders that I cannot explain. Put simply I
do not see how or why these anomalies should be present. I cannot fathom what
these anomalous organs do. And, Captain, having studied the data supplied by
the Ereban government, I know that there has been an increasing trend towards
Ereban children being born with more and more of these anomalies. But the
curious thing is, they seem to be all the same.”
“You mean the anomalies are the same?”
“Yes, Captain.”
Idly scratching his cheek, then belatedly remembering he wasn’t supposed to and
scowling at the scabby material under his untrimmed fingernails, and knowing
that he now had green ooze making a mess on his stubbled cheek, an irritated
Captain said gruffly,
“Sounds like evolution in progress. Either that, or there is an outside factor
influencing their reproductive process.”
Selar nodded, then gently took the soap from her CO and went to the basin. With
her hands under the spigot, she made a lather, then went back to Jean-Luc and
carefully cleaned his face. While she worked, she said quietly,
“I favour evolution, Captain. Evolved life on Ereban is relatively young. They
do not have a long evolutionary history, and I was mildly surprised to find the
average life-span of an Ereban is only sixty-five years. Males tend to live on
average slightly longer than females.
“They reach sexual maturity at age nine, but although both genders are fertile
at that age, it is customary for females to go through two ‘cells’, which is
when they are capable of producing ovum, before they ‘bond’, which could be
taken as equivalent to human marriage, then, having applied for the number and
gender they must produce, they are permitted to ‘lie’ together.
“Ereban couples may only lie together when the female is in cell. She becomes
fertile only once every ten months and the gestation of an Ereban pregnancy is
almost two years. They have multiple births. The least amount they carry is
four offspring, the most, twelve. The male is responsible for the determination
of the gender and, in accordance with instructions from the centre for gender
stability; he will only release ‘seed’ which will create the required genders.
Each pair of testes has one gender specific seed and the male can control which
pair is used. If a mixed ‘brood’ is allowed, he with utilise all four testes.
However, he will only release precisely the correct amount of seed that matches
the number of cells which the female has the ability to regulate.
“The act of procreation is not what a human would call pleasurable and is not
ever undertaken recreationally. Having said that, it is not an unpleasant
experience, indeed, it is a very intimate act, but unlike so many humanoid
species, there is not the intense pleasure nor is there an orgasm upon reaching
the depositing of seed or cells And, Captain, nakedness is frowned upon in
Ereban culture. The only times an Ereban will willingly be naked is either when
bathing or when lying.”
Pulling down the corners of his mouth, Jean-Luc tilted his head.
“Doesn’t seem to give much incentive to procreate.”
“Oh, on the contrary, Captain. In both males and females the urge to lie grows
with age. In fact in males particularly, if seed is not deposited, it gathers
in the testes and can cause a catastrophic rupture which ultimately renders the
male infertile. I was astounded to discover that any injury, or even a slight
variation in temperature can bring about infertility in males. Apparently this
can cause immeasurable humiliation and loss of self-esteem and it is not
uncommon for those afflicted individuals to take their own lives.”
“And the females? What happens to them if they don’t ‘lie’?”
“Something similar. Unlike human females who are born with all the ovum they
will ever need, Ereban females make the cells as they need them. But only do so
when it is certain they are going to lie. If they do not lie for a long period
of time, the organ responsible for the cell production becomes diseased and
sadly, the progression of the disease is so rapid it often kills the female
before medical intervention. However, traditionally, females who find
themselves in this situation would rather die than be rendered sterile.”
Shaking his head, Jean-Luc’s face showed his dismay.
“Why are they so preoccupied with fertility?”
“It seems to have its basis in the ties of blood. Family ties, the extension of
family by blood ties is ultimately important. If one cannot contribute to the
ongoing line of blood tie, then one is seen to have no worth, no purpose.”
“I am aware of this factor of Ereban life, Doctor, it was one of the main
stumbling blocks I faced in my negotiations with the Government. Somehow I had
to make them see that their unshakable belief that the strength of their family
bonds was not going to be enough to protect them from any outside aggressors.”
He sighed, the asked curiously, “How genetically diverse are they?”
Selar tilted her head, considering the question.
“That is difficult to answer, Captain as their population is not very large,
especially given the size of their planet and the habitable land available, but
I would hazard a guess that there would be a certain degree of inbreeding. With
the emphasis on blood ties, it is inevitable that two people in such a closed
environment would be related, albeit distantly.”
“So” Remarked Jean-Luc, “The anomalies you’ve mentioned may be caused through
insufficient genetic diversity.”
“Possibly, Captain, but I have my doubts. It is my belief that the mixing of
closely related individuals does not have the same deleterious effect as it has
on humans and many other humanoid species. With the relatively small
population, the early sexual maturity and the short life-span, I still tend to
think the changes I’ve noticed in the recent generations are evolutionary in
nature.”
“I see.” Said an obviously intrigued Captain. “Tell me, Doctor, if the act of
sexual reproduction is not pleasurable as such, is there any physical pleasure
an Ereban can achieve?”
“Yes, Captain. Mature Erebans of both genders have an organ, which when
required, protrudes from the side of the chest. If an Ereban, especially a
bonded couple who are not in a reproductive cycle wish to experience intense
physical pleasure, they go to a ‘pleasure centre’ where they join in groups of
up to ten individuals to enjoy mutual pleasuring. It is considered distasteful
for a couple to do this by themselves, the social norm is that the practice be
undertaken in groups.
“Sometimes, in males not yet bonded and feeling the urge to reproduce, their
reproductive organ, a penis, will attain a state of readiness while the male is
indulging in mutual pleasuring. It is considered deviant and the male would be
immediately ejected. Such males are also forbidden to masturbate. And
Captain...with the exception of lurin, rape is forbidden and punishable by
incarceration.”
“Why not lurin?”
Selar sighed.
“Again, a difficult question as these females fall into the category of what I
believe is evolutionary change. These females are born different. They become
sexually mature earlier than normal, they are constantly fertile they have
inside their reproductive tube, a vagina if you like, an organ that is
comparable to a clitoris which of course means they derive pleasure from
penetrative sex. There is one more thing about lurin, Captain. They exude a
scent, which the males find irresistible. The males find themselves unable to
prevent their penis erecting, nor can they refuse to copulate.”
“So this scent...it’s like a pheromone?”
“Yes, but much more potent. In humans, pheromones are very subtle, so subtle
that most humans are unaware of the effect it has on them although we know it
is an integral component of sexual attraction.”
Running his hand over his head, Jean-Luc momentarily offered grateful thanks to
his loyal colleague for taking his mind off grimmer thoughts in the current
discussion.
“If lurin are constantly fertile, wouldn’t they be constantly pregnant?”
“Yes, Captain, they are, and this situation causes great consternation amongst
both the government and the spiritual leaders because any female born to a
lurin is herself lurin and the males are, because they have no family
connection, considered outcasts. However, my investigations have shown that in
recent generations males born to lurin have been found to have their pleasure
organ situated in their penises. It is my belief that Erebans are evolving into
a species whereby sexual reproduction will become more prolific and
pleasurable, and, may one day be partaken recreationally, undertaken as many
humanoid species, merely for pleasure.”
“I don’t think your findings are going to go down too well, Doctor.” Said Jean-
Luc with a wry smile.
“Perhaps not, Captain, but so many offspring are being born to lurin that it
will only take a few more generations for them to simply outnumber the older
example of the species.”
“Hmph!” Jean-Luc snorted. “Out with the old, in with the new.”
“Indeed.”
There came a sharp rap on the door, marking the end of Selar’s visit. Assuring
her Captain she would return for his evening medication, the Vulcan left to
meet with Deanna and Doctor Absum.
 
The Ereban Doctor had begun to tap her foot impatiently against the table leg.
Every few minutes she would glance pointedly at a small time piece she’d taken
from a pocket and placed with obvious irritation on the tabletop. Ever serene,
Deanna had given up trying to make small talk when her attempts were met with
nothing but grunts and monosyllables. The rising impatience in Doctor Absum
made Deanna well aware that she was soon going to leave. To forestall the
female, Deanna asked,
“Is rape common on Ereban?”
The question obviously shocked the Doctor; she shot Deanna a venomous look and
shifted in her seat. But along with the shock, Deanna clearly sensed great
underlying unease. It was then that Selar finally arrived.
Before Absum could even begin to complain or offer any protest at being kept
waiting, Selar calmly sat down and said,
“I must insist that Captain Picard be given access to shaving equipment.”
Thrown off balance, the Doctor frowned, tilting her massive head and saying,
“Shaving equipment?”
Selar gave a single nod.
“Yes. Not only is it customary for many human males to shave, but with the
nematode infestation Captain Picard has, to hasten the eradication and to
reduce his significant discomfort he needs to shave the affected areas.”
Still confused, Absum said,
“Shave?”
Deanna smiled and said,
“Shaving is the removal of body hair right down to the level of the skin.
Usually in males it only involves the hair that grows on the lower face and
neck.”
Understanding dawned on the Ereban’s face.
“Ah! Yes, we noticed when Captain Picard was being processed for admission his
body is covered in hair.” She frowned with distaste as she remembered. “Except
his head. Very strange. And...” She leaned forward, obviously intrigued, “His
reproductive organ? It was very small and soft and covered in loose skin. Even
the end of it, which was very oddly shaped.”
Although Selar showed no outward reaction, Deanna on the other hand, grimaced
as she wondered just what indignities her Captain had endured whilst being
processed.
“I take it you’d never seen a human male before?” The Counsellor asked.
Absum shrugged.
“Well, no, not naked. In fact we’d never seen a human female naked either. Of
course in the information package we’d received before your arrival at our
planet, we knew something about human anatomy and the differences in the
genders, but to see a specimen up close...to be actually able to handle it...I
found it fascinating. Distasteful, but nevertheless, intriguing.”
She looked at her large hands, resting on the tabletop.
“Would you be willing to tell me more about your Captain’s reproductive organ?
Surely it cannot deposit seed in that state? And being so small, how does it
reach the bulb?”
Selar tiled her head.
“The bulb?”
Absum’s skin paled which the Enterprise women knew signalled embarrassment.
Shifting nervously in her seat, the Doctor said tersely, but softly as to not
be over heard,
“At the end of an Ereban female’s reproductive tube, when she is in cell and
has been stimulated enough, a bulb emerges. It is into the bulb that the male
deposits his seed. That opening automatically shuts and the top of the bulb
opens and the female deposits her cells. Then the bulb seals completely and,
over the period of gestation, becomes the vessel in which the brood gestates.”
“I see.” Said Selar. “Well, human females do not have a bulb, in fact human
reproduction is a little complicated. Rather than waste valuable time
describing it now, upon returning to our ship, I will send you all the
information you need to know.”
Not satisfied, Absum shook her head.
“Just tell me how such an unimpressive organ as Captain Picard’s can possibly
successfully deposit seed?”
How Selar kept her impassive demeanour was beyond Deanna, but Absum seemed to
be so keen to know, for the sake of transparency and the will to share
knowledge, Selar obliged.
“Firstly, although Captain Picard is only of average size for a human male, his
reproductive organ is considered to be well above average size. The human male
productive organ, which is called a penis, when aroused changes quite
dramatically. From its flaccid state, which is what you saw, it grows. It
lengthens and its girth increases. In some males it can more than double in
size. This is called getting an erection. The penis becomes very hard and rigid
and stands out from the body. In a young male, one who has reached puberty, the
erect penis may lift high enough to point upwards. With age, the erection
becomes less hard and the angle lowers, but males even over a century old can
achieve an erection quite capable of penetration.”
“Over a century old?” Absum gasped.
“Yes. The average life span of humans is approximately one hundred and fifty
years for both genders.”
“So long!”
Selar shrugged, “By some standards that is quite a short life span. My people,
Vulcans, live well over two hundred years and there have been examples of
individuals living over three hundred years.”
“By the All Seeing God, I am stunned!”
Deanna was about to try to bring the conversation back on track but Absum
wasn’t finished.
“So, this arousal? Is it just something males require or do females require
arousal too?”
“Yes,” replied Selar patiently “Human females require more arousal than males.
It is a complex series of physical and emotional changes that have to take
place for her to be ready not only to accept the male but to gain maximum
enjoyment.”
“So that the act is successful in creating new life?”
“No.”
Absum was confused and shocked.
“Then why?”
“Copulation, sex, making love, all these terms refer to the same thing. The act
is very, very pleasurable for humans, in fact for many humanoid species. It is
for this reason that sex is undertaken just for the physical and emotional
pleasure it brings. However, it is the very presence of the overwhelming
pleasure that brings about the end result, that being gratification, called an
orgasm, that plays an integral part if the couple wish to produce offspring,
but orgasm occurs whether or not a pregnancy is required.”
Absum sighed and rubbed her smooth brow.
“I do not understand.”
“As the couple indulge in the act the pleasure builds until it becomes almost
unbearable, at that point, orgasm occurs. In males it coincides with what is
called ejaculation. That is when he deposits his seed, which is called sperm
inside the female. At the same time the female’s orgasm makes her reproductive
tube, called a vagina contract rhythmically adding to the pleasure of both and
her cervix, an organ at the entrance of her uterus dips repeatedly forward,
bathing the opening in the semen, the ejaculate containing the sperm. Now why
this is happens you can read and watch a vid in the information I will send
you.”
Knowing the Vulcan was unwilling to continue, Absum risked asking one more
question.
“If it is normal for humans to have single births, how many sperm do the males
deposit? One? Two? Or perhaps more?”
If Selar could have sighed in exasperation she would have. Deanna lowered her
head and raised her hand to cover her smile because both women knew Selar’s
answer was going to shock the Ereban Doctor to her very core.
“Millions, Doctor, millions.”
Absum’s face paled and her mouth gaped. In a trembling whisper she said,
“Millions?”
“Yes. And most human men are quite capable of achieving another erection within
approximately twenty minutes and, if their partner is willing they can have sex
again and his ejaculate, although not as fertile as his first ejaculation will
still contain millions of sperm.
“Some men can continue, especially if they have access to sexual stimulants and
a willing partner; achieving erection after erection until they cannot
ejaculate anything, not even seminal fluid, however, the physical mechanism of
ejaculation, that is the muscular pulsations although not giving the same
amount of powerful sensation are still pleasurable. There is no limit to how
many orgasms a female can achieve, what usually ends the process is either
tiredness or soreness. The sexual organs of humans are exceptionally sensitive
and it is that very sensitivity that brings such enormous amounts of pleasure.”
Absum scratched her pale blond hair and said, almost as an afterthought,
“What about all that skin on the Captain’s penis?”
This time Deanna held up her hand, and by her expression, Absum knew this was
the last question that would be answered.
“That is called a foreskin and it retracts automatically when the penis is
erect, exposing the glans, which you thought so odd, but which is the most
sensitive part of the organ. The foreskin can be retracted manually if the male
wishes and usually this is done for personal hygiene.”
“Thank you.” Muttered Absum meekly. Deanna, sensing it was time, leaned forward
and said quietly,
“Doctor Absum, I sense you are holding back information that is very important
for us, but whatever it is, you are very reluctant to divulge what it is. In
fact, Doctor, I would go as far as to say you are very frightened.”
Shock and fear made Absum’s face pale so much her usually light tan face
appeared chalky.
“How do you know this?” She hissed. “What do you mean by sensing?”
Her mental barriers firmly in place to deflect the worst of the Ereban’s
outrage, Deanna knew what she was about to say was going to be very hard for
the Doctor to accept, both medically and spiritually.
“I possess the gift of empathy. I am empathic. That means I can sense the
feelings and emotions of others.”
Sitting back in her seat, Absum glared hotly.
“I was not aware humans had this ability. How long have you been spying on us!”
Calmly, Deanna offered a small, placating smile.
“Humans do not possess this ability.”
“Then why do you? Have you been surgically altered somehow?”
“No, Doctor. I have my gift because I am not fully human.”
“What?” It was said with wariness and fear. “What are you then? You appear
human.”
“To one not familiar with humans, it is an easy mistake to make. Outwardly,
there is little sign, except for my eyes.”
Absum peered sceptically at Deanna’s eyes.
“They are black.”
“Correct. No human has black eyes. They may have eyes that are so dark brown
they might appear black, but under bright light the difference is clear. My
eyes have no colour. They are completely black which is indicative of my mixed
species.”
Absum gasped.
“Are you telling me, you are the product of a sexual assault carried out
between two different species?”
Taking a deep breath, Deanna shook her head, making her dark curly hair swing
back and forth across her upper back.
“No. My parents were in love, married and had two daughters, my older sister
Kestra and me.”
“And this was allowed?” Absum was having great difficulty accepting what she
was being told.
“Not only allowed, but quite common, Doctor. Once the Federation was founded,
and different species began to meet, work and sometime live on each other’s
worlds, it was inevitable that mixed couples would find love and wish to
procreate. Sometimes this occurred naturally, the individual’s reproductive
processes being compatible, but sometimes medical help was required, and
sometimes, sadly, it wasn’t possible. But there is certainly no restriction or
any impediment in the intermixing of species. In fact it is encouraged.”
“That is...that is...hideous! How could you allow that tainting of your blood
line!”
“We don’t see it like that, Doctor. We see it as the ultimate expression of the
genetic imperative. One day, there may come a time when there are no more
separate species, but a conglomeration of hybrids.”
“Hybrids?”
“That is what I am. A hybrid. My father was human; my mother is a Betazoid,
from the planet Betazed. Full Betazoids are telepathic and I can communicate
with fellow Betazoids in that way, but with almost all other species, my gift
of empathy assists me greatly in my dealings with other species especially as
ship’s Counsellor.”
The information, though deeply disturbing was arousing Absum’s medical mind.
“So, if the only outward sign of your being a hybrid is your eyes and your
gift...are there any internal differences?”
“Yes, although none that are very different from a human. Should I fall
pregnant, for instance, the gestation period would be slightly longer and the
birthing process not so traumatic as a human’s”
She was cut off.
“Human birth is traumatic?”
Sighing and wishing she’d chosen her words with more care, Deanna nodded.
“Yes. But there is no reason these days for a human female to suffer any
discomfort in giving birth.”
“But there once was?”
“Yes, birth was very painful and sometimes a very protracted process,
sometimes, long, long ago, females and often the newborn did not survive.”
Deanna held up her hand to stop the inevitable questions.
“This is ancient history, Doctor and you are avoiding what I sense. Please tell
us what it is that frightens you so.”
Bluffing, Absum scowled.
“This is a gross invasion of my privacy!”
“If what you know concerns Captain Picard then we have a right to know!” It was
said with such quiet determination and steely will that Absum capitulated.
Deanna sensed the relief before the female spoke.
“It does concern Captain Picard, but not him personally.”
Selar and Deanna waited while Absum looked over each shoulder to make sure no
one could over hear.
“I have been reliably informed that the three males involved in the Captain’s
case were known to the authorities.”
Deanna sat forward sensing there was a lot more to come.
“You’re talking about the rapists and murderers.”
“Yes.”
“And how is it that they are known to the authorities?”
Absum closed her eyes, clenched her teeth and shook her head, obviously not
wishing to continue.
“I sense your need to get this off your chest, Doctor. You’ll feel better once
you unburden yourself.”
“I’m sure you are correct, Counsellor, but I could not only lose my job over
this, but I may face declassification and possible incarceration.”
“And Captain Picard faces execution!” Deanna’s black eyes blazed.
“All right! All three males had a long history of...deviant behaviour. Each had
spent extended periods of time in this very facility and each had been
incarcerated in the correctional centre for long sentences for their crimes.”
Selar leaned closer and asked quietly,
“Did they know each other well?”
“No. In fact it has only just come to light that they had somehow made contact
with each other whilst in prison, although how this was achieved is unknown as
great pains are taken to keep inmates isolated. They do not even see the
guards, or even the Doctors who carry out their monthly medical examinations
which are done remotely by computers. Everything is automated so as to not
interfere with their correctional behaviour modification programs, which they
are exposed at all times except while sleeping and even then an audio program
runs so that they absorb the information subliminally.
“All we know is that they were released within eight weeks of each other and,
according to the law, had to move to a satellite city and undertake tasks in a
public service unit. Um...assisting the elderly or helping in hospitals, that
sort of thing. But somehow they managed to have their sub dermal identification
chips altered and had false identity chips manufactured and re-entered the
capital and again, it is not known how, but they ended up living in the same
apartment complex. Not only is this strictly forbidden for convicted criminals,
especially those convicted of deviant behaviour but should have been impossible
to achieve. At present, the authorities are searching for those who obviously
aided and abetted them as they must have had help.”
Deanna kept her voice soft and low.
“And what was the nature of their deviant crimes?”
At that, Absum covered her pale face with both large hands.
“Oh, by The All Seeing God!” She sighed deeply.
“I am not prepared to identify which of the males is responsible for which
crime but I will tell you what each was convicted of.”
“Fair enough.” Said Deanna.
“The first male I will tell you about was convicted of what you would call
rape. It began with his bond mate. His choice was unusual from the start as he
made his interest in her obvious before she’d reach cell.
“So she was still...”
“Undeveloped, Counsellor, a child.” When Erebans reach the first cell or seed,
over a very short time, it’s an average of fourteen months they grow and
develop. From being gangly thin unimpressive little things, not much taller
than your Commander Riker they emerge from their growth as a fully formed
Ereban. Bones, muscles, brain, blood supply, even the heart develops two extra
chambers to accommodate the massive body it must now serve. For an adult to
show any interest in a pre-cell or seed individual is...odd, but having said
that, it does occur, but it is rare. Whether or not the adult is willing to
wait until the pre-adult develops depends on the amount of attraction between
them and in his case, his chosen female was as interested in him as he was in
her.
“Now, it is very important for males to wait until females have gone through at
least two cells before they can bond, then lie. They are also taught that
during the act of lying, they must be gentle. This is because the penis, as you
refer to it, is so large the female has to be able to alter herself internally
to accommodate it. And she is unable to do that until her third cell. That is
because the last thing to fully develop in a female is her reproductive tube
and the ability to form a mature bulb.
“I do not know how he did it, but he managed to get permission from both his
family and hers to bond. By the time the applications were approved and the
permission for a brood with the accompanying gender type and quotient, the
female had reached cell and was nearly fully developed.
“The bonding took place but soon after they moved into their new apartment, the
male insisted they lie together. The female, although not completely averse,
knew she could not accommodate him. She suggested the visit a pleasure centre
instead. Only adults can visit pleasure centres and although it is not law, it
is generally understood that it is for couples, preferably bonded. That means
that any given group has a shared commitment.
“Unfortunately her suggestion only made her bond mate angry and he insisted on
lying with her. Feeling she had no choice she consented. Her resulting injuries
were serious and her mate took her to hospital where she was repaired, although
he somehow avoided answering the obvious questions of the surgeons as to how
the injuries were acquired.
“Nothing happened for a few months, then he insisted again. This time she was
almost in cell. Her second. She resisted and he overpowered her. Again she was
badly injured but somehow a bulb had formed and it resulted in a brood. The
Doctors managed to not only repair her, but they saved the brood, although she
required constant medical observation throughout the gestation to guard against
complications. This time the female confessed to her father what her bond mate
had done. The father confronted the male and very strong words, even some
threats were made, and the male eventually gave his oath that he would not
force himself inappropriately on his mate again. Satisfied that the problem had
been rectified, the bond continued. The brood was delivered healthy and their
lives seemed to become normal. That was until the male decided he wanted to lie
with his mate again when she was not in cell. Again she resisted and this time
they fought until he rendered her unconscious. Their offspring were at the time
in the care of her family as she was having trouble producing enough breast
paste to feed them, no doubt because she was not yet fully developed. He forced
himself inside her, deposited his seed, but what he did next was shocking. As
if to insult her father he forced his reproductive organ into her waste passage
and deposited more seed.
“This was an atrocity of tremendous proportions. He fled, leaving his mate
terribly injured and bleeding heavily. She was found soon after and taken to
hospital, but she was so badly injured her reproductive organs could not be
saved and her waste tube had to be removed. The bond was immediately dissolved
and the authorities alerted. The female now lives with her family and as she is
now sterile and has a false waste tube extending outside her body she does not
leave her home. Her offspring are tainted by their father’s actions and it is
unlikely they will find any female or male who would wish to soil their
family’s blood with that of a deviant criminal. So his actions have had serious
repercussions for both families.
“The male went on a rampage. He hid in the wilderness reserve on the outskirts
of the city, coming into the inner parks at night and preying on any adult
female he came across. It soon became obvious through DNA testing that the same
male was responsible for all the attacks as well as the fact that he most often
forced himself in both the reproductive tube and the waste tube.
“He was eventually caught when a victim’s calls for help were heard and he was
subdued and brought here. After two years of extensive therapy he was taken,
without trial to the correctional centre for a long custodial sentence. He only
avoided execution because he had not killed. What happened to all of his
victims, I do not know, but I would hazard a guess their lives would be
ruined.”
Selar asked softly, “Was it ever determined why he was...deviant in his
behaviour?”
Shaking her head, Absum shrugged.
“No, in fact there are no adequate reasons, for his behaviour.” She sighed
heavily. “I have been studying the medical records going back several
generations and it seems a very disturbing change is in process. Erebans are
undergoing some kind of physical alteration and it is my belief, and I stress
this is only my opinion, within as little as four, or perhaps five generations,
we will not be the people we are now.
“Take males born to lurin. We know that females born to lurin are themselves
lurin, but until recently, males have been normal, although treated as
outcasts. Now we’re finding males born to lurin have either two pleasure
organs, or their pleasure organ is incorporated in the reproductive organ! I
have witnessed such a specimen here, in this very facility demonstrating how he
could stimulate his reproductive organ...with his hands and produce a seed
deposit! And not just the normal amount but far too much, way above what anyone
could possibly consider normal. AND he then proceeded to repeat the entire
procedure until, like the human males you described, Doctor Selar, he was
unable to deposit any more seed and yet, he still attempted to stimulate his
reproductive organ! Simply because it felt nice! If this trend continues, that
of female lurin being constantly in cell and with the advent of the newly
discovered pleasure organ within the reproductive tube and the constantly over
seeded males and the propensity for these...creatures to frequently lie
together, we will soon be overrun by lurin! They will eventually outnumber
normal Ereban.
“Obviously something has to be done, Somehow we have to find a way to make the
lurin, male and female sterile.”
“Why? Asked Deanna softly. “It may be nothing more than evolution at work.”
“I doubt it.” Absum said dismissively. “Besides, from what I know of evolution
it is unproven science and again from what I know of it, it is supposed to take
a very long time!”
“True,” Remarked Selar, “But with Ereban life spans being so short, perhaps
there has emerged some kind of acceleratory imperative for these changes? Your
planet, your way of life may be under threat from outside sources. Maybe this
is your species’ way of countering that threat?”
Laying her hands palm upwards on the tabletop, the Enterprise women could see
the Doctor’s anguish.
“But what of the blood! Indiscriminate breeding does not take into account the
importance of blood ties. That has always been our strength. How can we become
stronger as a species simply by developing the ability to breed more
prolifically and with pleasure? How does that help? It makes no scientific
sense!”
“I do not know, Doctor, but I agree with you that whatever these changes are,
they are happening at a phenomenal rate. But what I do know of evolution is
that it is rarely for the detriment of a species. In the information package I
will send you about human reproduction, I will include information about human
evolution. I choose human because it is so well documented and you might find
the writings of a very enlightened man, for his time, called Charles Darwin.
What he theorised at first outraged humankind, but ultimately, even now
centuries later, he continues to be proven correct and not just in human
evolution but other species as well.”
Gently tapping her index finger on the table top, Deanna said quietly, “We
digress.”
Sighing Absum nodded.
“The second male had a very specific deviancy. He became addicted to
pleasuring. I have already told you that pleasure groups are customarily made
up of bonded couples in groups of usually ten people. Unaccompanied individuals
or unbonded couples are not usually tolerated, but the male involved was
particularly...engaging. He was outwardly friendly and his demeanour made it
easy for people to feel at ease with him. So, using these...talents, which I
must point out are a little unusual in Erebans, we tend to be somewhat
reserved, he inveigled himself into a pleasure group. A pleasure group that is
unbalanced can sometimes have difficulty in reaching flood.”
Deanna held up her hand. “Flood?”
Absum closed her eyes and sighed. “Although it does not seem to be as powerful
or necessary as a human orgasm, at least from what you’ve described, flood,
what was once called resolution, is the culmination of pleasuring. It comes
after perhaps an hours’ pleasuring and consists of a surge of emotional
release. First, there is a blankness....a disconnection of thought, followed
almost immediately by a feeling of intense well being. For some time
afterwards, fifteen minutes perhaps, the members of the group stay together,
enjoying the collective sensation of peace.
“The male in question began to frequent the pleasure centre more and more often
and joined in increasing numbers of groups. He was accepted and eventually
trusted, but the owner of the centre slowly became worried as the male spent so
much of his time there, it became obvious he was sometimes forgoing his daily
meal and sometimes his sleep cycle. Pleasure centres are open thirty hours a
day, they do not close. Eventually the owner spoke to the male but he used his
unusual charm to allay the owner’s concerns. He carried on as usual, but one
day, during a pleasure session, his reproductive organ attained a state of
readiness. This is considered very distasteful and the individual involved must
leave the group immediately and go to the calming room until he, or she is no
longer in a state of breeding readiness.”
Deanna frowned.
“There are outward signs of female readiness?”
“Yes. Her skin darkens and her breast feeding portals enlarge.”
“What happened then?”
“To the male?”
Deanna nodded.
“Once he returned to a normal state he rejoined the group, but it kept
happening. And eventually, group after group asked him to leave. The last
group, a rather naive group of young, just bonded couples were more tolerant
and allowed him to stay within their group despite his unsavoury physical
habit. But what happened next even the inexperienced youngsters could not
tolerate. During pleasuring he would deposit seed. And to make matters worse,
he did not care where it landed. Ereban do not remove their clothing when
pleasuring, only that which covers the pleasure organ. So to have one’s
clothing soiled by a deposit of seed is quite disgusting.
“No one would forgive such a socially disgraceful act and he was summarily
banned from the centre. Now you must understand there are literally hundreds of
pleasure centres. It seems to be part of the changes that are happening to
Erebans. Preoccupation with pleasure is becoming more and more common and to
meet demand more and more centres are being built. So, the male simply moved on
to a new centre, but of course his deviancy was growing and the same thing
happened, only much sooner. Again he was banned and again he simply moved on,
but gradually word got around and one sensible owner scanned the male’s sub
dermal identification chip and sent his details, which included an image of his
features and his DNA onto the data stream.
“Finding himself excluded from all the capital’s pleasure centres, in
desperation he moved out to the satellite cites only to find the same thing as
the data stream connects every public building.
“With his need growing, he moved back to the capital and began to prey on
unsuspecting victims, mainly in secluded areas of our larger parks. It seems he
required a long period of time with his victims and they included male and
female.”
Selar frowned. “How was he able to overcome his victims? Your species is very
strong and quite capable of defending themselves.”
Absum frowned, obviously concerned. “I should probably not tell you this, but
at the base of our skull there is a small, circular area, when struck in
precisely the correct way will render an Ereban senseless for a matter of a few
seconds. Apparently the male knew exactly how to do this and, attacking
silently from behind, once his victims went down he would then choke them, only
allowing enough air to maintain a state of semi consciousness. If an Ereban is
fully unconscious, the pleasure organ will not emerge, but in semi
consciousness, it can be stimulated into a state where it can be used. Not by
the owner, they would feel nothing, but by the assailant.”
Deanna tilted her head and said,
“Excuse me, Doctor, but is it possible for a normal Ereban to pleasure
themselves?”
Her face distorted with distaste at the very thought, Absum shook her head.
“Oh no! It requires at least two separate organs. Each organ exudes a very
subtle chemical, when mixed with the others’ excites the nerves that lie just
under the quite thin skin of the organ. The skin that covers the organ is also
very sensitive.”
“And when it emerges, does it change?”
“Not exactly. The organ will emerge ready to use, but as flood approaches it
grows a small amount and becomes more sensitive.”
Selar tilted her head. “It would seem to share some characteristics with the
human penis.”
Raising her pale eyebrows, Absum nodded. “You may be right, I hadn’t thought
about it.”
“So how was he caught?” Asked Deanna.
“Well his victims were linked by his DNA, so the authorities knew who they were
looking for. But this male was very wily, however the longer he went without
capture he became more and more brazen. One thing that had become apparent was
that he was depositing more and more seed. That indicated he was spending a lot
of time with his victims. In their statements, those who could remember
anything, reported this male actually vocalising his pleasure, something a
normal Ereban would never do! It seems that he would hold one hand around the
victim’s throat, regulating their breathing to keep them semi conscious, while
his other hand stimulated his reproductive organ. Now we had no proof of this
until his capture, when we witnessed him doing just that. Because he was
leaving so much seed, we knew he was emptying his testes. That seemed to be
when the attack would cease. But with his two final victims he was brazen
enough to not only attack in broad daylight, but stay with them, continuing to
pleasure himself while he waited until his testes made more seed!”
“And how long would that take?” Asked Selar.
“It depends on the individual male, the young tend to be able to replenish
faster than older males, but the average time would be about three hours.”
“And how much would be made?”
“Usually, only enough to serve a maximum brood. Twelve seeds. Six in each pair
of testes of opposite gender of course, three in each individual teste. The
last two of his victims paid dearly for his perversion. The skin covering their
pleasure organs were rubbed raw; in places the skin was missing and the
underlying delicate tissue exposed and bleeding. The surgeons did their best,
taking grafts and shaving the skin to its thinnest, but they could not
regenerate the nerves. I know the two victims, both males and they have told me
although they can still gain some pleasure, but it is insufficient to achieve
flood. A very sad state of affairs.”
Deanna sighed.
“And so how was he captured?”
“He had decided to keep his last victim and was caught dragging him towards a
hidden ground vehicle. Only the All Seeing One knows what would have eventually
happened to that poor male. It was while he was being processed for admission
that it was discovered that he possessed two pleasure organs. One in its proper
place, the other incorporated in his reproductive organ. Like the young male
lurin we were just beginning to discover, this male has the dubious honour of
being the oldest we know of and perhaps the first...and of course he was
lurin.”
Sear leaned forward. “That he was lurin did not show up on his DNA?”
Absum shrugged. “No. None of them do. It is only their behaviour that gives
them away and only upon apprehension are the internal differences noted. That
is what makes it so very difficult to find them! Where once lurin were rare and
exclusively female, it was easy, but now they blend in with society and unless
they display abhorrent behaviour, we have no idea they live among us.”
Deanna sighed. “I sense there is more about these changes you’re not telling us
and it feels to me as if it is intensely personal.”
“By the God!’ Absum spat. “Is there nothing you will spare me?”
To Deanna’s steady gaze, the Ereban female lowered her head and sighed.
“It has become very popular, although I must stress this is not something one
would talk about with others, I know only because of my position in this
facility, in older bonded couples, upon the deposit of seed, the addition of
cell and the sealing of the bulb, the process of reproduction is supposed to
end. By that, I mean the male is meant to remove his reproductive organ from
within his mate and although they may continue to lie together, enjoying the
closeness and intimacy, there is no more sexual contact. However, more and more
couples are not stopping. The male is leaving his organ inside and sometimes
the couple will move again to bring about another deposit. This also makes his
pleasure organ emerge. While moving the male will stimulate his mate in such a
way as to encourage her pleasure organ to emerge and with practice the flood
will occur at the same time as the subsequent deposit. Now, while this is not
as yet against any law, be it secular or spiritual (only because few people
admit to doing it) it is becoming wide spread.”
Even though the admission had been difficult for the Doctor, Deanna sensed
there was more. And she thought she knew what it was.
“That’s why you were so reluctant to agree with this meeting. You wanted time
with your bond mate.”
“Yes. My bond mate and I had scheduled time for...I don’t believe it has a name
yet.”
Deanna smiled kindly. “Making love.”
Absum’s smile was sheepish. “Perhaps.”
There was a companionable silence before Deanna said quietly,
“The third male?”
Absum’s face screwed up in obvious distress.
“He is the most abhorrent creature I have ever had the displeasure of even
knowing about. His crimes were so heinous; I have not been able to find
anything like it in our archives. His perversion was to prey on young Ereban
and I don’t mean those nearing cell or seed, but very young! Every one of his
eight innocent young victims died a gruesome, hideous and agonising death.
Operating near nurseries, he would snatch his victims, take them to somewhere
secluded and where their screams would not be heard and then rape them so
viciously...”
Tears welled in the female’s eyes and she shuddered through a deep sigh. “The
little females were so badly damaged by the size of his organ, which was large
even for an Ereban; his organ forced itself right through the body so his seed
was deposited on their faces. Then, he would force himself into their mouths
and back through their ruined insides so that the next deposit was on their
thighs. Young boys suffered a similar fate, but he would use their waste
passage as well as their mouths. Normally one who kills is tried and executed,
but the public were so outraged it was decided to summarily execute him and
dispose of everything about him.”
“How was he caught?” Deanna was disgusted and deeply disturbed, but she felt
she had to know.
“He had not taken his last victim far enough away and his screams were heard.
The searchers found him in the process of raping the boy, but he was already
dead. Evidence showed the little one had already been violated three times.
This...creature had no physical anomalies and we could find no reason for his
perversion, and he is not lurin but the authorities found something that
prevented his immediate execution.
“It is illegal to do anything that deliberately causes the extinction of a
family, the total loss of the blood line. This...male’s family was very small.
It had become so small it was almost unsustainable. This had happened because
of three major factors. First, the family had a genetically low fertility rate.
Then disease struck, wiping out many relatives leaving only about twenty-five
related individuals. To try and find a cause for their impaired fertility rate,
the family decided to travel from their satellite city homes into the capital
for treatment. They all boarded the same flight craft and tragically it
encountered mechanical trouble and crashed. There were only two survivors, both
female and both the male’s relatives. So, the authorities had a terrible
dilemma. By law they could not execute the male, as his seed was required
because the females, although survivors, were left sterile. There followed a
great debate, not known by the public who assumed the criminal had been
executed. Some officials argued that seed should be taken from him over a
period of time until there was enough to produce many offspring, but the
counter argument was the danger that his perversion may surface in any
offspring created with his seed. Eventually it was decided to take his seed,
lots of it, and fertilise volunteer lurin. Now, I know what you’re thinking,
but this procedure was to be closely monitored and the offspring carefully
watched. Each would have not only the sub dermal chip regularly inserted in
every Ereban new born, but a tracking device as well. So far his seed has
resulted in the birth of fifty-eight offspring, all lurin of course, but so
far, apart from what one would expect from a lurin, no perverted or deviant
behaviour has been noted. His family would seem to be extinct, but it is not
and if in the future it is needed to be resurrected for whatever reason, we
know where the blood relatives are.”
Deanna was both angry and confused.
“All right, so what happened to him and why was he released?”
Again Absum shrugged. “While he was here he was kept sedated. Seed removal is
painful as the seed is taken straight from the testes and I don’t know if
you’re aware, but Ereban seed is quite large and can be easily seen with the
naked eye. It may be that which explains why the male’s reproductive organ is
so large. Certainly the inner tube and the opening are suitably big.”
“Does the male pass liquid waste through the inner tube?”
It was as if Selar had slapped Absum’s face.
“What! What kind of question is that? How disgusting!” Then Absum’s expression
went from abhorrence to horror. “Are you telling me that human males pass
liquid waste through the same organ that is used for reproduction?”
Instead of answering, Selar, ever unruffled merely said, “Read the information
package and watch the vids.”
Deanna gently laid her hand on the Doctor’s huge muscled forearm.
“You were telling us about the male.”
“Yes...” She took a deep settling breath. “In the four years he was here he was
only brought to consciousness three times and that was to test cognitive
ability. The thing was we really didn’t know what to do with him. Keeping him
sedated was not helping anyone, certainly not those who had the dubious and
unwanted duty of looking after him, so eventually we petitioned the government
to have him transferred to the correctional facility. He was not executed,
because of the slim chance more seed may one day be required from him. To our
knowledge he is unaware he has offspring. For safety’s sake, before he left
here, he was implanted with a powerful slow release drug which specifically
targeted the pleasure and reproductive centre of his brain effectively
castrating him. It was renewed every year of his incarceration and over time
tests showed that these centres within his brain had been destroyed. So, after
being incarcerated for twenty years and considered an old male, he was
released. It was only during the post mortem of his body that we found his
brain had rerouted itself and recreated a new pleasure and reproductive centre,
and because the drug was so specifically targeted it never affected this new
part. That is why he was sexually able when he attacked Doctor Crusher and her
daughter.”
With some urgency, Deanna’s hand gripped the Doctor’s forearm.
“This has to be used in Captain Picard’s defence!”
“Why?” Asked an obviously nonplussed Doctor.
Staying patient was difficult. “Because it shows a pattern of behaviour that
should have never been allowed to be brought back into society. If your
authorities and Doctors had done their job properly none of this with Captain
Picard’s family and his subsequent action would’ve taken place!”
As if talking to a child, Absum said slowly,
“None of what I’ve just told you can be admitted as evidence for the defence.”
“Why the hell not!” Snapped Deanna with uncharacteristic anger.
“The males are not on trial, Counsellor. They are the victims here! They are
dead! It is not their behaviour in the past or what they did at the apartment
that is at issue! The trial is solely to prove Captain Picard’s already
established guilt.”
Deanna scratched her scalp in exasperation. “Then why did you tell us!”
Bowing her head, Absum sighed. “Once again I should not be telling you this,
but my family was not always devoted exclusively to medical science. One branch
was devoted to the law and through my association with my relatives, I know
things.”
“Like what?” Asked Deanna with curiosity and hope.
“Like ancient laws that are still in effect but have not been used for so long
they have been forgotten about.”
She sighed and briefly closed her eyes.
“Counsellor, the Ereban public, now that they know that Captain Picard’s
partner is not lurin, feel a certain sympathy for his position, after all
family is what’s important and the general public are as yet unaware of the
murdered males’ criminal histories. But...there is no sympathy for murdering
helpless individuals. So there is a certain level of disquiet surrounding the
upcoming trail of your Captain. The debates are on the rise and it would not
surprise me if there were not protests from either side. My advice to you, my
only advice to you is to contact Advocate Jeran and tell her to look into
Article 225.1 which she will find in the sub-archive at the central law
centre.”
The big female rose and stretched as if being seated for so long had stiffened
her muscles.
“I wish you well.”
Deanna looked at Selar, saying urgently,
“Where is the nearest public communication hub?”
“Just outside, across the road from the entrance.”
Both women getting to their feet, Deanna tossed over her shoulder,
“Come on, we have to get to see the Advocate, we’ve no time to lose!”
 
To the women’s impatient irritation all the communication portals were in use.
They had to take a place in a line and wait their turn. Thankfully it wasn’t
long, but that was not the end of their frustration.
Deanna had no trouble connecting with Advocate Jeran’s assistant, but getting
to speak with the Advocate herself was proving almost impossible. It took all
of Deanna’s considerable charm and persuasion to finally get the male to agree
to ask the Advocate if she would talk to her.
By the curt undisguised irritation in the Advocate’s voice, Deanna knew she had
to choose her words carefully.
“Advocate Jeran, thank you so much for taking the call.”
“I am very busy, Counsellor, what is it you want?”
“It is vitally important that Doctor Selar and I speak with you immediately.”
“I’m sorry, Counsellor, I am too busy right now. Perhaps if you made an
appointment with my assistant...”
Deanna cut her off.
“We have new evidence that you must hear!”
The sigh was short and angry.
“Counsellor, you have been telling me you have evidence, evidence you claim
mitigates the outrageous crimes of your Captain! I have yet to see or hear any
such evidence and now you claim you have more? The man is guilty! I do not see
how anything you might say can change that. By the All Seeing One, Counsellor,
his murderous actions were recorded.”
Taking a steadying breath, Deanna said quietly,
“You are Captain Picard’s defence Advocate and you have a sworn duty to do your
upmost to defend him, no matter how hopeless his case may appear!” Before Jeran
could say anything further, Deanna’s voice softened.
“We have just spent the better part of an hour with Doctor Absum. She told us
some things I believe you already know. And before you tell me it is
inadmissible, she said her advice to us....her only advice to us, was to see
you! Immediately!”
There followed a tense silence. The only thing, apart from the subdued
background noise was Jeran’s breathing.
“The office closes at seventh crescent. Come then, but I can’t give you too
much time, my bond mate is expecting me at home.”
“Thank you.”
Deanna terminated the call and the two women moved out into the bustling
street, feeling very intimidated by the enormous beings around them. Some,
casting disapproving looks, made Selar gently take Deanna’s elbow and lead her
to a quiet corner between two tall buildings.
The Counsellor looked around to ensure their privacy before asking quietly,
“What time is seventh crescent?”
Selar made some quick mental calculations. “About twenty hundred hours.”
“And it’s now?”
“Fifteen forty.”
“So, we’ve got about four hours to kill. I think we should go to the hospital
to see the Captain.”
Selar shook her head.
“I cannot comply. I have already visited him and I am not due to see him again
until it is time for his evening treatment.”
Deanna gave that some thought, then came to her decision.
“Very well, you go back to the ship. I’ll go to the hospital alone and we will
meet later at Jeran’s office.”
“Do you think that wise, Counsellor? Are you armed?”
Nodding, Deanna’s hand went to the hidden pocket in her tunic where her
personal phaser was situated.
“I am, but why do you think it unwise?”
Selar sighed and tilted her head, her eyes constantly moving around, ever
vigilant.
“Given what we’ve been told about the changes that the Ereban are undergoing,
it might not be safe.”
Deanna hadn’t thought of that. She surreptitiously slipped her phaser from its
pocket and slid the power setting up to heavy stun. Silently watching, the
Vulcan remarked softly,
“We can only hope that will work.”
Determined, Deanna put her weapon away and lifted her chin defiantly. “I intend
to see Captain Picard and I do not intend to be intimidated by these people.
Yes, they’re huge and yes, there is something very strange happening to them,
but right now my Captain and friend needs me.”
Selar bowed her head.
“As you wish, Counsellor, but if you will indulge me, stay away from secluded
areas such as parks and deserted streets and make your way to the hospital by
the most populated route.”
“Agreed. I will also contact the ship and get them to keep a permanent lock on
my communicator.”
“A wise decision.”
They looked at each other but only Deanna smiled. Having called for transport,
Selar disappeared in seconds. Now alone, the Counsellor was left with the
daunting task of making her way through a population that barely tolerated her.
Being of small stature, even for a hybrid human/Betazoid, Deanna was quite
accustomed to being jostled in crowds, but by the time she finally reached the
hospital she was actually bruised. Her hair was in disarray and her uniform
torn in two places. Although her journey had been harrowing and she’d been left
battered she could not honestly say that any of her slight injuries or the
damage to her clothing was done deliberately. It seemed that most incidents
were caused because the Ereban simply didn’t see her and in almost every
instance of collision or contact, a sincere apology was offered.
Taking time to dust herself off, run her fingers through her long curly hair in
an effort to tame it, Deanna had to ignore the small rents in her tunic as she
gathered herself to enter the foyer of the imposing hospital building.
Although seated at a large desk, the attendant looked down at Deanna from a
considerable height, his facial expression was mild, but his slitted pupils
narrowed unpleasantly.
“How may I assist you?” No matter how often Deanna heard the deep huskiness of
their voices it never ceased to unsettle her, however she sensed nothing that
gave her cause for concern.
Summoning a strong voice, Deanna looked up and said,
“I have come to visit Captain Jean-Luc Picard.”
“You mean the human?”
“Yes.”
Turning his head slightly to one side, the male consulted a screen which lay
flush with the desktop.
“Patient Picard, number 55839 is not receiving visitors at this time.”
“May I ask why?”
The male’s face hardened.
“He is resting.”
“I see.” Said Deanna, determined not to give up. “Has he been sedated?”
Again consulting the screen, the male looked down and shook his massive head.
“No.”
“Then, as his personal Counsellor, I wish to exercise my right to see him.”
“Patient 55839 is a criminal. A murderer. Why would he need a Counsellor,
personal or not? Very soon he will be executed and any...worries he might have
will be over for ever, at least in this life. What happens to him in the
afterlife is up to the All Seeing One.”
The smile Deanna offered cost her quite a bit.
“Nevertheless, I want to see him. Now, I can get our acting Captain to contact
your government to tell them that you are obstructing me from doing my duty to
my Captain. That could be seen as being a matter of diplomatic difficulty. Are
you prepared to bear the consequences of that?”
The smile that appeared on the male’s face showed genuine amusement and
respect. With a nod, he stood and Deanna stifled the urge to flee as he strode
over to a locked door and keyed in a code. Stepping back, he bowed slightly and
with a very courtly-like gesture, waved her through.
Confronted by a very high ceilinged corridor, Deanna walked briskly, her
footfalls echoing dully. Her senses told her Captain Picard was awake and
feeling distressed. It was as she quickened her step towards the next set of
doors that she realised she could sense nothing of the other patients. The
guards, the Captain and staff, yes, but no one else. The doors opened
automatically and, as she passed through she saw the surveillance device turn
to watch as she entered the body of the building.
“Into the belly of the beast.” Deanna thought. Never before had she felt so
alone.
She was met at another set of doors and this time she was escorted, the Ereban
guard shortening her long stride to accommodate Deanna’s shorter steps. They
arrived outside Jean-Luc’s cell and the guard used an oval metal ring that
encircled her right hand to rap on the door. Waiting only a few seconds, the
guard opened a flap and Deanna tried not to stare at the bony, pale hands that
emerged. Manacles that had been clipped to the back of the guard’s uniform were
snapped around the wrists that protruded, then once the hands were withdrawn,
the guard waited a few more seconds before entering a code that released the
door lock.
With an inclination of her head and a mildly friendly smile, the guard bid
Deanna to enter, but as the Ereban went to follow her inside, the petite woman
shook her head.
“As Captain Picard is a patient of mine, I respectfully request privacy.”
The guard’s face hardened, but Deanna sensed only a desire from the female to
do her job correctly.
“Patient 55839 has been classified as dangerous. As he is no longer sedated, I
must accompany you.”
Summoning a smile, Deanna sensed the guard was not unsympathetic, just bound by
the rules.
“I respect your need to maintain order and your duty to follow the practices of
the facility, but I have known Captain Picard for a very long time, not only
have I served with him for nearly twenty years, but I have been his Counsellor
for all of that time. I can assure you, I am in no danger whatsoever from him.”
She sensed the guard beginning to waver.
“He has been restrained hasn’t he?”
The female nodded ponderously.
“Then surely he poses no threat. Besides, no doubt you will be here, right
outside the door?”
“Yes.”
Deanna said nothing else. The guard had to feel she had come to her decision on
her own, without being coerced. Eventually she sighed and gave a slow nod.
“Very well, but if you feel threatened in any way-if he attempts any suspect
move, you call out!”
Offering a warm, grateful smile, Deanna entered Jean-Luc’s cell. He was
standing by the rear wall and Deanna was deeply shocked by what she saw. Given
it had been only a matter of hours since she’d seen him last, he had shrunk
somehow. His shoulders were slumped, his back slightly bowed and his head
lowered, he was staring sightlessly at his manacled hands. Moving closer in the
small cell, careful not to startle him, Deanna said gently,
“Captain?”
At first, when he didn’t respond, Deanna had thought he’d not heard her, so she
softly repeated the word a little louder.
“Captain?”
This time he flinched and slowly looked up. Deanna had to stifle a gasp. If
she’d thought the first time she’d seen his facial rash was bad, he now looked
hideous. Having to shave had removed all the scabbed tissue, not only exposing
all the minute holes the nematodes had made and causing the greenish fluid to
exude, but also blood. The area where his facial hair grew was now a mass of
sticky oozing matter giving him a ghoulish appearance. His eyes were sunken and
haunted and, as Deanna’s eyes travelled over him, she saw his hands were
trembling.
Gently taking him by the elbow, she guided the unresisting man to the bench and
eased him down to sit. Taking her place beside him, Deanna said softly,
“Don’t give up, Captain. Please, you must hold on.”
He sighed and slowly closed his eyes. Deanna had never seen him so defeated.
“Why?” He whispered hoarsely.
In a softly urgent voice, Deanna told him everything she’d learned from Absum.
As he listened Jean-Luc’s lethargy began to lift. By the time she’d finished,
light had come back into his eyes.
“Do you think this can help?”
Deanna was loath to say anything to jeopardise his fragile hold of hope.
“Well, I can only say that Doctor Absum must’ve had a very good reason to tell
us, Captain and when I told your Advocate it was Absum who had spoken to us,
where she’d been very dismissive, she suddenly became more...interested.”
Looking at Deanna Jean-Luc asked,
“Does Jeran know what it was Absum told you?”
Deanna shook her head. “No, not yet. Selar and I didn’t want to say anything
over the public communication system. But, as I said, she went from trying her
best to avoid us, to agreeing to see us later today.”
Jean-Luc gave that some thought, then gazed steadily at Deanna with such
intensity she felt intimidated. His barriers were up, but she still got the
impression from what little she could sense that he was wary.
“I have been made aware that you and Selar intend to tender some evidence that
may mitigate my...actions. Just what is this evidence?”
Deanna sighed, feeling that her Captain already knew the answer, making the
question largely rhetorical, however she was duty bound to answer.
Taking a deep breath and maintaining eye contact, Deanna said evenly,
“Your experiences with the Borg, Captain. All your experiences with them.”
His head snapped around to face away from Deanna. Although she could no longer
see his face, she knew his eyes would be screwed shut and his face contorted in
pain. His fists, resting on his lap, were so tightly closed his knuckles turned
white. It took several long moments for him to regain his composure and even
then, when he was again looking at her, his voice was rough.
“And why is that relevant?”
“Because, Captain, it shows quite clearly just how much it takes for you to be
forced into a situation where you would resort to physical violence.”
He was about to argue when Deanna shook her head and laid a hand on his
forearm.
“No, Captain, don’t try to dismiss it. Even after being assimilated you, after
a little encouragement, refused to rid the Federation of the Borg forever,
simply because you were able to see to do so was an immoral act. You were able
to see, even after all that you suffered at their hands that they, as
individual victims much like you had been, were not responsible for their
actions. Yes, as a whole, the Borg represented perhaps our most deadly threat
but you upheld your principles, you refused to engage in wholesale slaughter,
no matter how that would’ve been achieved.”
His dark eyes glittered.
“You’re rather conveniently forgetting what I very nearly did, intended in
fact, during the First Contact incident and again during the Borg’s most recent
incursions. Had I acted when I had the chance, billions would have been saved.”
Deanna’s smile was a gentle one. “You and I both know, no matter what came
afterwards, you did the right thing at the time. You, Captain, cannot be blamed
for the actions of the Borg. Not then, and not what happened later.”
Deanna’s smile was wry one. “Captain, you and I both know the need for revenge
isn’t uniquely human, and as a human, admittedly a highly evolved one, you are
not immune! What is important, Captain, is that you did NOT go through with
your plan to fight to the death, even if it meant killing everyone on board. It
may have taken quite some persuasion, but in the end you saw reason and acted
rationally.”
There was a long silence before Jean-Luc sighed, eventually seeing the futility
of persevering with the argument. He changed tacks.
“Do you think it will make any difference, Deanna? I was recorded killing those
three males. I can’t really see the Erebans accepting my past with the Borg as
being enough to sway them. In their eyes...and by my own hands, I am guilty.”
Deanna sensed a wave of resignation coming from her CO and she felt both
helpless and angry.
“Look, I don’t know! All right, maybe they won’t accept your past experiences,
but Doctor Absum told us what she did for a reason and I have to believe it
will help. And so do you!”
The vehemence of her voice shook Jean-Luc out of his lethargy. He seemed to be
debating with himself over something and Deanna felt both his reluctance to
tell her what it was as well as his need to let her know something he knew was
very important. Eventually he sighed and lifted both hands so he could rub his
forehead.
“Counsellor, there is more going on here on Ereban than you know.”
Her eyes narrowing, Deanna said quietly,
“Has it something to do with their seemingly rapid evolution?”
His gaze sharpened and through the disgusting matter on his cheeks, she saw his
jaw muscles clench.
“How do you know about that?”
“Doctor Absum. She’s not fully convinced it is evolution at work, but she...and
quite a few other medical scientists are becoming suspicious.”
“How much did she tell you?”
Deanna shrugged.
“All about the lurin, their offspring and how they will soon, within a few
generations outnumber the ‘normal’ Ereban, the sexual changes and the increased
need for pleasure and intimacy during the act of reproduction.”
Jean-Luc nodded slowly and sighed. “I’ve had a similar recent conversation with
Selar about the very same thing.” He closed his eyes and lowered his head.
“Then I suppose it’s time I let you know just what exactly is going on.”
Staring at the man, Deanna said quietly, “Yes, Captain. Perhaps you should.”
Shifting his gaze to stare fixedly at the opposite wall, Jean-Luc’s voice
became very soft. “You are aware why the Enterprise came to Ereban in the first
place?”
“Yes, you were sent to assess them for membership in the Federation.”
He nodded slowly. “And do you know why they want that membership?”
Frowning a little, Deanna hesitated only slightly. “Well, isn’t it because they
wish to have the protection of Starfleet in the event the hostilities between
their neighbours in this system spreads and threatens them?”
Jean-Luc sighed, grunted softly and shook his head. “Tell me, Deanna, from what
you’ve seen; do you think Ereban is a suitable candidate for membership?”
Her eyes shifting to look at her clasped hands, Deanna sighed.
“No, Captain, I don’t.”
“And so you doubt my report would’ve been...favourable.”
“Yes, Captain. But, Sir, forgive me, but as acting Captain the report will come
from Will and I happen to know he’s going to be scathing. There’s no way Ereban
is going to become a member of the Federation, not on Will’s recommendation.”
Slowly, Jean-Luc turned his head and looked into Deanna’s eyes, what she saw
and felt made her stomach clench.
“It will make absolutely no difference what his recommendations are,
Deanna...or mine for that matter. Ereban is going to become a member. It had
already been decided by the Federation Council even before we were sent here.”
“Then why? Why were we sent?”
“My task wasn’t to assess them for membership; Deanna, my job was to liaise
with a very deeply secret government department, whose members are devoted to
trying to find a way to undo something that has happened. This department has
been in existence for at least five generations and it is staffed by members of
one family, generation after generation. As you know, families here on Ereban
tend to concentrate on only one or two professions, be it academic, political
or even manual labour, there is no distinction. The important thing to them is
that they have a purpose, that they serve first the family, and in doing so,
they serve their planet and their species as a whole.”
Now engrossed, Deanna moved closer to her Captain, but he held up his hand in
warning and offered a wry smile. Pointing at his face he said softly,
“Not too close, Deanna, you don’t want to end up looking like this.”
To ease his worry, Deanna smiled and shook her head.
“I don’t have to shave my face, Captain.”
He grunted and closed his eyes. “Perhaps not, but my groin and armpits look
much the same.” He summoned a wan smile.
“Let’s just say it would be a lot simpler for you if you minimised the risk of
infestation.”
Unwanted, Deanna’s mind furnished images of what those areas of her Captain’s
body must look like and she couldn’t help but grimace. How he could sit so
calmly while enduring such discomfort amazed her as did his ability to hide it
from her. All she could say was, “I’m so sorry, Captain.”
He shrugged and offered a wry, one-sided smile.
“I’ve had worse things happen to me.”
The sudden thought of his impending execution made both people silent for a
little while before Jean-Luc said,
“However, I’ve digressed. The two planets so hell bent on war with each other
went through a period of escalation in recent times. This escalation was mostly
technological and scientific in essence and about sixty years ago, they both
decided to play with some of the new toys they’d developed.”
Deanna’s one word comment came out in an angry expulsion of breath.
“Idiots!”
“Indeed.” Agreed Jean-Luc. “Especially when you consider their chosen method of
killing each other was through biological warfare.”
A shocked and sickened Deanna gasped.
“Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes.” Jean-Luc sighed and lifted his hands to rub his lower lip, but
thought better of it. “The average life span of a normal Ereban is
approximately fifty-five years for both genders. And, given their long
geostationary period and the fact that ‘normal’ Ereban females don’t become
fertile all that often, a generation can be as short as twenty years.”
Deanna nodded. “That explains the relatively small population, despite the fact
they can produce up to twelve offspring in each mating.”
“Yes. It also means that because of their insistence in maintaining blood ties,
their genetic diversity is growing smaller and smaller.”
Deanna tilted her head, the ramifications of his words becoming clear. “They’re
inbreeding?”
“Uh huh, but unlike humans and many other species, it doesn’t seem to have any
deleterious effects.”
“What about lurin and the changes? Isn’t that an obvious effect of inbreeding?”
Jean-Luc sighed and shook his head.
“No, Counsellor. That is a direct effect of their neighbour’s penchant for
biological interference.”
He sighed deeply, ignoring the look of shocked confusion on Deanna’s face.
“Command has been aware of the situation in this system for many, many years,
but it wasn’t until the waring planets had unleashed their biological weapons
upon each other that things became a little...muddied.”
Unable to resist, he closed his eyes and scratched his groin, grimacing in
pain. Deanna averted her eyes; it was the only privacy she could afford him.
She didn’t look at him again until he began to speak once more.
“First contact was made with all three planets in this system about one hundred
and twenty years ago, but of the three only the Ereban were willing to engage
in any sort of dialogue. The other two were openly hostile; in fact we don’t
even know what they call themselves, or their planets. Command gave them
numerical designations. We have only recently, through the secret department,
learned of their names. Not that it helps in any way.”
Jean-Luc stood; wincing slightly and remaining stooped while he went to the
basin and put his hands under the spigot. With his cupped hands filled with
water, he took a long drink before returning to sit with Deanna.
“The belligerence between the neighbouring planets had been ongoing for nearly
two centuries but somehow Ereban had managed to keep out of it. However, after
the combatants had unleashed their biological weapons, they found...” Jean-Luc
sighed and shook his head as if he found it difficult to understand their
stupidity, “That their surviving populations were decimated and unsustainable.”
Throwing her hands up in exasperation, Deanna all but shouted, “Well what the
hell did they expect!”
“I know,” Agreed Jean-Luc softly. “Such insanity is difficult to comprehend,
but they didn’t stop there, Deanna.”
By the ominous tone of his voice, Deanna knew they were getting to the heart of
the matter. He sighed and briefly closed his eyes.
“With their planets mostly destroyed and their population on the brink of
extinction, they turned their attention to Ereban. Forty-five years ago they
formed an alliance...an uneasy one to be sure, but an alliance nevertheless and
the sole purpose of that association was to save their species.”
Deanna’s gaze sharpened.
“Are you saying they are the same species?”
“No. Not exactly, but alike enough and closely related enough genetically to be
able to blend each of the three, which includes the Ereban.”
“So what exactly have they done?”
“Utilising the naturally occurring solar winds in this sector, the alliance
seeded the winds with a biological...message. In effect, it is slowly
reprogramming Ereban genetics and adapting them until they reach a point where
they will become compatible for breeding with the now combined species of the
other two planets. At that time, Ereban will be invaded and absorbed by
breeding. Eventually, and in a surprisingly short period of time, evolutionally
speaking, a new species will emerge and stabilise.
“Over a long period of time, Command has had agents on the other two planets
clandestinely and I must stress, very dangerously gathering information. This
was done because of the seemingly inherent belligerent nature of these people,
it was always felt that they needed to be watched, very carefully and our
vigilance has paid off, because it has been learned recently that the alliance
has been making overtures to the Typhon Pact.”
Deanna softly gasped, making Jean-Luc nod. “Exactly. With the Federation losing
Andoria recently to the Typhon Pact and with other Federation worlds
reassessing their membership since the Borg incursion, it was deemed vital by
Command to secure this sector for the Federation.”
Deanna’s eyes darted to and fro as she tried desperately to assimilate the
information.
“But, Captain, that doesn’t explain why the Federation Council was prepared to
admit an obviously unsuitable world. Ereban is simply not ready! They are
unsuitable as members and it goes against every tenet of the Federation to
accept them.”
When Jean-Luc refused to respond, even to refuse to meet Deanna’s eyes, she
suddenly gasped and whispered,
“Section 31.”
Jean-Luc’s head snapped around and his intense eyes bored into hers. “You are
not supposed to be aware of the existence of that particular entity,
Counsellor.”
When she did nothing but silently hold his gaze, he sighed and lowered his
head. “I am not prepared to say officially whether or not Section 31 is
involved, Deanna, but my personal opinion is...” He shrugged, pulling down the
corners of his mouth. “It’s obvious.”
He did not have to say such information was highly classified. Deanna narrowed
her eyes and kept her voice low.
“Then why aren’t they helping you!”
Patiently, and with a rueful smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Jean-Luc said
equally quietly,
“Because not only did I fail in my mission, but I rather spectacularly
committed a capital offence on Ereban. The moment I set foot on the planet, I
was bound by local law. You know that, Counsellor. And...” He gave a soft,
tired chuckle. “As they’re not yet Federation members, I have to be thrown to
the wolves for appearance sake.” He snorted and pushed his fingers into his
eyes. “The irony is staggering, don’t you think?”
Casting aside his fatalistic sarcasm, Deanna shook her head. “It still makes no
sense! The Federation has never interfered in the business of non-aligned
planets, not for centuries, that’s what the Prime Directive is all about,
regardless of the consequences. I don’t give a damn about Section 31, Captain.
It’s the Council who hold the power. Why are they allowing this situation with
Ereban to influence them? What aren’t you telling me? Just what was your
mission?”
His eyes held such an intense gaze, Deanna almost looked away. He seemed to be
weighing up his options and Deanna saw by his darkening eyes that he’d reached
a decision.
“All three species, before the...amalgamation of the warring planets’
population...they all carry human DNA.”
“What?” Gasped a truly shocked Counsellor. “How is that possible?”
Taking a deep breath, Jean-Luc stared at his manacled hands. “That is what I
was sent to find out. An encrypted communiqué from the secret government
department had been received alluding to the fact that the chosen, secretly
researching Ereban scientists had finally discovered the answer. Because I had
to go through with the motions of meeting with the Central Government on the
pretence of assessing them for membership, I had not yet had the opportunity to
contact the secret group. At the time, that wasn’t a priority, as my time here
had no finite limit. I knew at some stage I would find the opportunity to make
contact. “He sighed and shook his head. “The fates, unfortunately, had other
plans and matters took an...unexpected turn.”
Deanna digested all this and thumped her fisted hand on her thigh. “And I
suppose none of this can be used in court.”
He shook his head, a wry smile making the crusted ooze on his face split. He
winced and sighed.
“No.”
“So what happens now?”
Jean-Luc shrugged. “From the little I’ve been able to gather from our end,
these changes that are taking place in the Ereban are irrevocable. Whether they
like it or not, they are going to evolve, and relatively quickly, into a
different variation of their species. What the Federation has to do is to find
a way to prevent the alliance from taking advantage of the situation and
carrying out their plans, while at the same time, help the Ereban come to terms
with what they become.”
Lost in thought, Deanna spoke aloud. “Human DNA. How the hell...”
“What do you know of the Eugenics Wars, Counsellor?”
Deanna shrugged. “Only what I learned at the Academy, Captain. It wasn’t on the
syllabus at my Betazed schools.”
“I see. Are you familiar with Khan Noonien Singh?”
“Yes, Captain.”
Jean-Luc smiled kindly. “Then you must know about his sleeper ship and his
followers.”
“Yes, Captain, this was all covered in our studies at the Academy, including
how Khan and his group were destroyed when the stolen Genesis Device exploded
on the Reliant, killing the crew as well.”
Nodding again, Jean-Luc sighed.
“It seems Khan’s sleeper ship was not so somnolent after all. Since the first
anomaly was recorded here on Ereban, that being the emergence of the first
lurin, the secret group here have been sending covert communiqués to Federation
scientists, because in their initial...studies...of those first lurin they
discovered human DNA, but it wasn’t until a comparison was made with normal
human DNA that it was realised by our scientists, that the human DNA the
Erebans had found was augmented.”
“Are you saying that the genetically enhanced Khan and his followers
somehow...bred with Erebans and the inhabitants of the other two planets?”
“It would seem so.”
Shaking her head, Deanna used her hands to give her words form. “But, Captain,
surely such robust DNA as Khan and his ilk possessed would’ve become dominant.
Why aren’t the Ereban more...human?”
“Because...and I was about to find out why when...” He sighed. “Somehow it has
remained dormant. The only real evidence it exists within the Ereban at all is
their superior size and strength. Apparently they weren’t always like that.
But, its presence is posing a real threat to the Ereban in light of the changes
that are so rapidly taking place.”
“Why?”
“Because neither our scientists, nor the Ereban scientists have any idea just
what the end result is going to be. There are so many variables to take into
account. As you know, evolution, when left to its own devices, usually benefits
the species it changes. It is, by its very nature, reactive, it exists to
assist the ongoing survival of the species, but with the Ereban we have
a...hodge-podge of genetic material, each variant DNA warring for dominance,
but at its root, there is no natural evolutionary reason for it.”
Deanna closed her eyes tightly, trying her best to see the whole picture.
“All right. Let’s say that Ereban is soon to be formally admitted into the
Federation. Where does that leave the alliance?”
Jean-Luc shrugged. “You’re guess is as good as mine, but it may be that faced
with the impossibility of bringing their plans to fruition, it may tip their
hand into joining the Typhon Pact.” He sighed again, raising his hands to rub
his face and nearly did so before Deanna gently caught his wrist. He saw what
he was about to do and nodded his thanks.
“The alliance cannot survive without help. Their population, what’s left of it,
is virtually infertile and their planets’ cities and ecostructures have been
all but destroyed. We know the Tholians possess the knowledge to undertake
genetic manipulation, God...they got it from us! In all honesty, Deanna, I
can’t see that they have much choice.”
“What about us? The Federation can offer just as much help as the Typhon Pact.”
Jean-Luc shook his head.
“We are philosophically, diametrically opposed. They are war-like; they’re not
interested in peace, prosperity or mutually beneficial cooperation. They are
xenophobic! No, I’m afraid the Typhon Pact would be the only thing they could
stomach.”
“So war with the Typhon Pact would be inevitable.”
“Yes.” Lowering his head, Jean-Luc rested his forehead on his fingertips.
“After the Dominion war, things were difficult, but the Borg incursion caused
immense upheaval. Worlds that had always been staunch supporters of the
Federation began to reassess their priorities. The first to actually leave was
Andoria, but I fear they are the first of what may prove to be many. That’s not
to say that any world that chooses to leave the Federation would automatically
align themselves with the Typhon Pact, but the implication is clear. Unless we
do something to reassure all the Federation worlds that we’re still the
benevolent, beneficial entity we’ve always been, what was fundamental about the
Federation will change...irrevocably.”
“It has already begun, Captain.” Deanna’s voice was leaden.
His sharp look made Deanna want to touch him to ease his sorrow.
“The very fact that the Council was prepared to admit an unsuitable world like
Ereban simply to try and keep a footing in a strategic area of space tells me
that those in charge are trying to pre-empt the inevitable.”
Jean-Luc frowned. “Are you suggesting their interference here was a deliberate
prelude to war?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To force those worlds who are vacillating to make up their minds! If the
Federation embarks on a war with the Typhon Pact, then surely everyone will see
just what’s in store for them under the Pact. You used words like benevolence
and mutually beneficial alliances to describe the Federation. That is not what
the Typhon Pact is all about and those worlds who are reassessing their
membership just might find themselves with little choice but to stay with the
Federation...simply for their own autonomy, not to say their very survival.”
Jean-Luc lifted his head from his fingertips and stared up at the ceiling. He
spoke so softly, Deanna barely heard him.
“We’re all nothing but pawns.”
There was a loud rap on the door. Deanna glanced towards the sound and sighed.
“I’m sorry, Captain, I have to go now.” She stood and looked down at the
broken, defeated man before her. She was about to say more when he said
huskily,
“You are not to say a word about anything we have discussed.”
“But, Captain...”
He looked into her eyes, his determination and authority clear.
“That’s an order, Counsellor.”
Swallowing, Deanna bowed her head.
“Yes, Sir.”
 
Outside Jean-Luc’s cell and walking briskly to keep up with the guard, Deanna
asked,
“Could you please tell me the time?”
Not slowing, the huge Female hooked her fingers onto a fine chain attached to
her belt. Slipping out of a pocket in her robe was a small time-keeping device.
The female glanced at it and murmured,
“It is half past sixth crescent.”
Realising she must hurry, Deanna waited impatiently while she was escorted
through the doors and into the foyer. About to leave, she turned and asked,
“When will you remove Captain Picard’s manacles?”
“Patient 55839 will remain restrained until it is time for sleep.”
Deanna frowned, a protest forming. She was silenced by the receptionist.
“Your time here is at an end.”
Knowing arguing would be futile, Deanna swallowed her anger and stalked out of
the immense building. Somehow she had to get through the crowded walkways back
to the Advocate’s building and she had little time with which to do it.
However, one thing Deanna Troi did NOT lack was determination. That and a sharp
pair of elbows.
 
David Picard walked slowly beside his mother, holding her elbow. The distance
from the Captain’s private room in Sick Bay to the morgue wasn’t far, but as
they approached the doors leading into the short corridor that would take them
into the morgue, Beverly’s steps became slower and slower until she eventually
stopped.
Doctor Selar, following discretely behind, stepped closer and said quietly,
“It is not necessary for you to do this, Doctor Crusher. It can wait until you
are stronger, both physically and psychologically.”
Shaking her head and lifting her chin, Beverly turned and gave David a smile of
appreciation as he increased his grip of her elbow.
“It’s all right, Selar, I just need a breather, that’s all.”
David, sensing his mother’s struggle, looked up at her and tried to find the
words that would help.
“Maman, maybe Doctor Selar’s right. You’ve only been allowed out of bed for the
first time a few hours ago.”
Somehow summoning a smile, Beverly blinked back her tears. She bent down to her
son and said softly,
“I have to see them, David, I have to see my little girls.”
The young lad understood, he’d felt exactly the same way, though not about the
aborted baby. Taking a deep breath, he nodded and smiled, despite the tears he
could not stop from streaming down his face. Together, with Selar just behind
them, Beverly and David made their way into the morgue.
Unable to speak, to Selar’s raised eyebrow, Beverly just nodded, letting her
Vulcan colleague know she was ready. At the touch of a screen, the alcove
opened and the metal slide silently extended. On it, with a pristine white
sheet pulled up to her shoulders lay the body of Monique and beside her, in a
padded silver box was the tiny body of the unborn girl.
The reconstruction had been perfectly done and, as David already knew, Monique
appeared merely asleep. Mutely, Beverly stroked the soft brown hair above the
girl’s forehead, then bent and reverently kissed her. It wasn’t until Beverly
straightened and laid her hand on Monique’s cold shoulder that the first broken
sob was wrenched from Beverly’s breast. She collapsed to her knees, David
wrapping his arms around her chest.
“Oh, God! Why? Why my little girls? Why my Monique? Why my baby?”
Selar stepped forward with a hypo in her hand, but it was David who shook his
head. Showing maturity far beyond his years he shook his head again, saying
firmly,
“No, Doctor, leave her alone, please. She needs to do this.”
Mother and son stayed by the bodies of their little loved ones for over an hour
and it was a calmer Beverly who, once again guided by her son, walked slowly
back to Jean-Luc’s private room and climbed into the bed. She waved away the
hypo Selar offered, instead saying softly, “I want to go down to the planet to
see the Captain.”
Knowing Beverly was silently asking when that could happen, Selar bowed her
head.
“Two more days, Doctor. I will assess you then and if I think you are strong
enough then yes, you may go.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
David’s quiet voice carried the same resolute determination she’d heard so
often in his father.
“I’m going with you, Maman.”
Beverly turned and smiled at her son, offering a nod of acceptance. As she
closed her eyes, Beverly moved over and patted the bed beside her. Wordlessly,
David climbed onto the bed and nestled into his mother’s embrace. They found
sleep together.
 
Her appearance even more disarrayed and dishevelled, a very out of breath and
sweating Deanna made it to the Advocate’s office and, to the polite knock on
the door, the Counsellor winced at the obviously angry voice that gave her
permission to enter.
Deanna’s eyes registered the fact the Selar was sitting at Jeran’s desk, but
before she could utter an apology for her tardiness, the Advocate launched into
a tirade of abuse.
“Is this what you think is keeping an appointment?” Jeran made a pointed
gesture to the time piece on her desk. “I told you to meet me at seventh
crescent! It is now past eighth crescent!”
Deanna let the anger wash over her, concentrating instead on the strong
undercurrent of barely suppressed sexual tension emanating from the Advocate.
“I have far better things to do with my time...my private time...then sit here
two hours past my scheduled work allotment time! My bond mate is...”
Deanna spoke for the first time. “Waiting for you, I know, Advocate and I do
most humbly apologise for being so late, it is unforgivable of me, but I was at
the hospital visiting Captain Picard and he required quite a lot of my time. I
was unaware of just how much time had passed, and I then had to make my way
here on foot...” She smiled wryly and gestured to her dishevelled appearance.
“And as you can see, I didn’t fare too well. People of my diminutive stature
are simply not seen by the other pedestrians.”
Her yellow eyes still blazing, Jeran snorted derisively and made a dismissive
gesture with her hand.
“Why didn’t you use the public transport system?”
Smiling, Deanna took her seat, perched on the edge of the overly-large chair.
“Because, Advocate, I cannot read Ereban language, so I was not able to discern
which route I was to take. And as the seats are much too large for me, I would
have been forced to stand and I’m afraid that might have been more dangerous
for me than walking. I would have been crushed. I’ve seen how crowded your
public systems can be.”
“Yes, well may I remind you, Counsellor, that most people finish their
scheduled allotted work time at approximately the same time. Through your
negligence you found yourself on the streets at the busiest time! You should
have been far more aware!”
Having already apologised, Deanna was quickly tiring of Jeran’s continued
abuse, especially as Deanna knew she wasn’t the actual cause of the Advocate’s
tension. Crossing her legs, Deanna gave Jeran a steady, uncompromising look.
“Oh I am aware, Advocate. In fact I’m aware of quite a lot.”
Immediately suspicious, the huge female lifted her head and narrowed her eyes,
the vertical pupils slitting. “And what, exactly, do you mean by that?”
Keeping eye contact was very disconcerting, but Deanna refused to be
intimidated.
“I know why you are so...desperate to get home to your bond mate.”
Jeran’s skin paled and she swallowed. In the ensuing silence, Deanna said
quietly,
“We know, Advocate. Not only did Doctor Absum tell us about the changes, I can
sense your very potent sexual tension.”
Being a very experienced Advocate, Jeran hid her shock well, but Deanna easily
sensed it. Taking advantage of having the female wrong-footed, Deanna said,
“You, Advocate, are lurin. So is your bond mate.”
Closing her eyes briefly, Jeran slumped back in her chair and lowered her head.
“So you are here to what? Threaten to expose us unless I find a way to free
your Captain?”
Keeping her voice gentle, Deanna said softly, “No, Advocate, we would never do
anything like that, you have my word.”
Looking at Deanna for the first time with something other than dismissive
hostility, Jeran said cautiously, “What then? What do you want?”
“Basically, justice for Captain Picard.” Before Jeran could protest the
futility of the statement, Deanna held up her hand, effectively silencing the
Ereban female.
“Advocate, Doctor Absum has told us...” Deanna gestured to Selar who inclined
her head, “Everything. We know about the changes, the lurin and what is going
to happen within a few generations. That in itself is disturbing, but it is
what she told us about the three males our Captain killed that have brought us
here. We know about their long criminal history, their years in treatment,
incarceration and their inherent, incurable deviancy.”
Confused, Jeran shrugged. “But it makes no difference. That information has no
bearing on your Captain’s case. It is not the males who are on trial! They
are...”
“Dead. Yes, we know that. On hearing all that Doctor Absum told us we
immediately stressed the need to use the information in Captain Picard’s
defence, but Doctor Absum informed us that it was inadmissible”
“Then why are you here?” Jeran’s tone was exasperated.
Deanna sighed and rubbed her right temple where a headache was developing.
“Because, Advocate, we realised there must have been a reason why the Doctor
told is all she did! But when we questioned her further, she refused to tell us
anything more. In fact, the only thing she would say was to contact you with
all haste and request you access Article 225.1 which, apparently, you will find
in the sub-archives of the central law centre.”
Jeran actually gaped. She frowned deeply and sat back in her seat. “The sub-
archives?” She asked, obviously confused.
Sensing the female’s confusion, Deanna asked softly, “Yes. What is kept there?”
Shrugging and opening her hands palm up, Jeran pulled down the corners of her
mouth.
“The sub-archives contain all the legislation that has been passed over
generations that make up the system of jurisprudence we now use.”
Selar frowned, her gaze keen. “Is that all?”
Tilting her head to one side, Jeran pushed out her lower lip. “Well...there are
the Articles of Challenge.”
The Vulcan was outwardly calm, but Deanna knew her well enough to know she was
tense.
“And they are?”
“When people have challenged a particular law and set a precedent.” Before
either Selar or Deanna could say anything, Jeran held up her hand. “No one has
gone anywhere near the sub-archive for years...generations in fact. There’s
been no need. The government and the people are satisfied that our laws, as
they stand, are just and equitable. There hasn’t been a challenge in...”
Deanna rested her small hands on the wide expanse of the desktop.
“Advocate, Doctor Absum told us...”
Obviously annoyed, Jeran waved her hand. “I don’t care what Doctor Absum told
you! In fact I don’t why she even chose to divulge such...sensitive
...information with, forgive me, aliens.”
Not the least perturbed by Jeran’s outburst, Deanna said calmly, “Are you aware
that Doctor Absum’s family are not exclusively devoted to medical science?”
Narrowing her eyes, Jeran shook her head, but said nothing. Deanna continued.
“One branch of her family is devoted to law and it is through those relatives,
who she has obviously discussed the matter with, that she learned of Article
225.1.”
“I still don’t see...”
Deanna leaned forward. “You must be aware of the growing division of opinion
concerning Captain Picard’s predicament within the public?”
Jeran nodded, her tone cautious. “Yes. Since the government made the public
aware, through our mass media systems that, despite the...unusual...manner in
which your Captain and Doctor Crusher live and the fact that within this
strange arrangement they have produced offspring, it has been made quite clear
that Doctor Crusher is not lurin. This has caused some sections of the
community to see Captain Picard’s actions in a slightly more sympathetic
light.” She held up one long finger. “But...that does not change the fact that
he murdered three defenceless males! He was recorded doing it!”
Jeran pinched the bridge of her flat nose and sighed. “The law is quite clear;
I really don’t see how any of the old Articles of Challenge could possibly be
of any help whatsoever.”
Deanna rubbed her temple again. “Two things, Advocate. One: Doctor Absum felt
it important enough for us to tell you and two: What if the public were made
aware of the dead males’ criminal history? Their...perversions?”
With an annoyed shake of her head, Jeran scowled. “I can’t speak for Doctor
Absum; she may have an agenda of her own. As for the other, what do you expect
me to say? From a legal standpoint that information is useless, but from a
civil standpoint, it could cause riots! The public are only now beginning to
get the merest of hints that something is happening. If they knew that deviants
lived amongst them and that such behaviour was becoming more and more
prevalent, there would be mayhem! Society would break down.”
Very gently, Deanna looked into the agitated female’s eyes and said, “Aren’t
you and your bond mate considered...deviants? You are, after all...lurin.”
Jeran’s expression suddenly became closed and tension was palpable in the air.
Very quietly and with an undertone of menace, the Advocate said,
“I thought you weren’t going to expose us?”
Deanna didn’t smile, she merely held the female’s intense gaze.
“I have already given you my word that won’t happen. No one will learn it from
us.”
“What is it you want then?”
“We want you to go to the sub-archive of the central law centre and find
article 225.1. What you do with it is up to you.”
Turning her head slightly, Jeran stared at the two women.
“You will not force me to act on what I find?”
Shaking her head, Deanna said softly. “No.”
There followed a long silence before Jeran slowly nodded. “Very well. But...I
warn you, do not get your hopes up.”
Abruptly coming to her feet, the Ereban towered over the two women. She glanced
at her time piece and looked pointedly at the door. “Now, I must go.”
Deanna and Selar both rose and Deanna smiled.
“Thank you for your time, Advocate.”
Two minutes later, Deanna and Selar were on the Enterprise. Deanna wasn’t
surprised to see a very angry Will Riker waiting for her in the Transporter
Room.
Taking her by the elbow and ignoring Selar, he ushered her out into the
corridor, saying under his breath, “We have to talk!”
They walked so fast along the corridor that Deanna eventually had to say,
“Will! Slow down.”
Realising what he was doing, the big man not only slowed his pace, but he made
a concerted effort to rein in his anger, knowing what it must be doing to his
lover’s empathic senses. Deanna felt the change immediately and sighed with
relief. Without the blanketing, overwhelming fury she was able to sense the
other, underlying emotions. Uppermost were frustration, helplessness and
paralysing fear. It was the fear that worried Deanna the most. Will Riker was
rarely, if ever, frightened.
Given his emotional state, Deanna wasn’t surprised when they reached their
destination. The doors to Will’s quarters opened and shut with a sibilant hiss,
leaving the couple standing in the middle of his living area, facing each
other. He gently gripped her upper arms and stared intently down into her eyes.
“We’ve had a lock on you and Selar ever since you left the ship. You’ve been
gone almost all day and I know you’ve been to see the Captain. What the hell is
going on?”
Instead of answering his question, Deanna asked one of her own.
“Why are you so scared, Will?”
He closed his eyes briefly, let go of Deanna and began to pace, occasionally
running his hand through his hair. When he spoke it was in staccato sentences.
“I contacted Command. I wanted to speak to someone who could help! Someone who
had the balls to authorise me to rescue the Captain. At first I got shunted
around...you know how those fucking bureaucrats can be, but eventually I got to
speak to Admiral Hussein.” Will’s normally genial face contorted into a savage
sneer. “Ever hear of him, Deanna?”
She shook her head, but refrained from saying anything. Will snorted.
“Me either! But with no one else to turn to, I told him everything! I left
nothing out. He acted shocked, very convincing in fact...he even told me he
knew the Captain, that they were old friends and how he knew the Captain wasn’t
a violent man. Okay? So I said...Well you can’t let this happen! You can’t let
those fucking people put Captain Picard through a sham trial and then slit his
fucking throat! And you know what he said?”
Deanna went to the replicator and in a quiet voice, ordered two hot, black
coffees. Will kept on speaking as if she’d not moved.
“He said...Oh, but we have to respect local law! I couldn’t believe it, Dee! So
I said, actually I begged to be allowed to just beam the Captain up to the
ship. I gave the fucker my word that not one of those Ereban shits would be
harmed. He refused! No matter what I said, he wouldn’t listen! Then he told me
that there was more going on than I knew but he couldn’t tell me because I
lacked sufficient fucking security clearance! Oh, but he wasn’t quite
finished.! He said...bold as fucking brass, that the Captain does know! Like
that makes it okay! Whatever the hell is going on, those fucking bastards at
Command are willing to sit on their fat arses and do fuck all to save the
Captain! He had the fucking gall to give me a direct order not to do anything!
Jesus!”
By now, Deanna was sitting on the sofa, staring at the wisps of steam rising
from the mugs which sat on the low table. Will, having ground to a halt, seemed
to deflate. He walked over to the sofa and sat heavily beside Deanna, putting
his elbows on his knees and cradling his head in his hands. His emotional
bubble had burst and Deanna felt him regaining his composure. Slowly he sighed
and when he spoke his voice was soft.
“What’s going on, Deanna? Do you know?”
Picking up the coffee, Deanna blew on the contents before taking a tentative
sip. She rarely ever drank coffee, she didn’t actually like it, but just then,
it seemed somehow appropriate to drink what Will preferred.
“I do know, Will, but I can’t tell you.”
His head snapped up, his blue eyes blazing. There was danger in his voice when
he said,
“Captain Picard’s life’s at stake! If you’re using patient confidentiality...”
As the coffee infused her senses she had to concentrate on not grimacing. To
try and clear her taste buds, she took a deep breath through her open mouth.
“No, not entirely, but it does play a part.”
“Why then? Why won’t you tell me?!”
Placing the mug back down, Deanna turned at looked deeply into Will’s eyes.
“Because the Captain ordered me not to.”
Will was on his feet so fast for such a big man, Deanna stifled a gasp.
“Jesus!” He shouted. Then he struggled to calm himself and sat back down.
“Deanna, I was given a direct order by an Admiral...a flag officer. I have no
choice but to obey. Now I know I have the right to refuse an unreasonable
order, but I can’t find a compelling argument. To the letter of the law, the
bastards are right! You, on the other hand, have been given an order by a man,
a patient of yours, under extreme stress and, as a medical officer, you have
the authority to refuse any order given to you that you feel is not in the best
interest of the person who gave it. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“Then countermand the fucking thing!” Realising he was shouting again, will
took a deep breath and modulated his voice. “Deanna, we’re talking about
Captain Picard’s life here. What could possibly be so damned important that not
only Command, but the Captain himself is willing to offer no resistance? Why is
the Captain willing to die?”
Unable to remain seated any longer, Will got to his feet and resumed pacing.
“And what about Beverly and David? What the fuck are they supposed to do
without him? Eh? Haven’t they been put through enough? Wasn’t the brutal rape
and beating of Beverly, the loss of the unborn child and the murder and rape of
Monique enough? Are you really going to sit there and tell me you’re willing to
let this happen?”
Deanna was drowning in Will’s anguish. She had no answer for him, certainly
none he’d accept. She looked up at him and said quietly,
“Will, is the stability of this sector and the lives of countless millions
worth more than one man?”
He stopped dead in his tracks and stared open mouthed at his lover. Disbelief
showed in his eyes.
“Is that what you’re telling me? That if we prevent the execution, there’ll be
some kind of disaster?”
Deanna rubbed her eyes and grunted in disgust. “No. Actually that will happen
regardless.”
Will frowned.
“I don’t understand. Is the Captain’s death pivotal or not?”
“Not specifically, no. But the Captain’s death is part of it.” She sighed and
looked distastefully at the cooling coffee. “Look, Will, the thing the Captain
was sent here to do...he failed. The incidents at the apartment were just...”
She sighed. “It changed everything, Will because what the Captain did prevented
him from carrying out his mission. Command is now faced with trying to salvage
something very important and yes, that means the Captain is expendable.”
“So...it’s about more than just upholding our oath to respect local law.”
“Yes.”
“Shit.”
He went and sat down again, this time leaning back and letting his head fall on
the backrest. Defeated at last he said softly, “Is there nothing we can do?”
Leaning against his solid body, Deanna didn’t even try to stop her tears.
“Not really. Selar and I have been given some information that might help, but
the reality is it’s pretty hopeless.”
Rubbing his face with his hands, Will’s voice broke as he said,
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Neither can I, Will, neither can I. But I’ll tell you something. When this
mission is over, I’m going to leave Starfleet and once you see what’s going on,
I think you will too.”
Will gaped and gave Deanna a look of frank incredulity.
“Deanna?”
“The Federation we knew Will, the organisation we served and believed in is no
more. It simply doesn’t exist any more. I’m not sure whether or not it’s purely
for survival, or something far more sinister, but I’m not going to be part of
it. Not any more.”
Selar’s voice broke the stunned tension in the room.
“Commander Riker, I am due to go down to the planet to give Captain Picard his
evening treatment. May I have permission to leave the ship, sir?”
Still with his eyes riveted on Deanna, Will said distractedly,
“Permission granted.”
Then he said quietly, “If I went to him, would he talk to me...would he tell me
what’s going on?”
She smiled to take the hurt out of her words. “I doubt it, Will. He knows you;
he knows exactly what you’re thinking and what you’d do.” She gently squeezed
his hand. “Will, the Captain’s death may not be an honourable one, but to him,
on a very personal level it will have meaning. Try to take some comfort from
that.”
Tears welled in Will’s eyes and it was a moment or two before he could speak.
“And Beverly and David?”
“Leave them to me. I have no doubt Beverly will resign as well once she
realises what’s going on. I’ll make sure they’re well cared for.”
Wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands, Will said brokenly, “I feel like
I’ve been punched in the guts.”
“Yes, me too.”
“Jesus, how must the poor Captain feel?”
Deanna had no answer to that and so the couple sat in silence for the rest of
the shift.
 
Jean-Luc was much like he was when Deanna had seen him, but, unlike the
Counsellor, Selar showed no trace of shock at his appearance.
She calmly went about administering the injections and watched emotionlessly as
he swallowed the distasteful liquid, but when she asked to see all the affected
areas, he frowned and offered a shrug, holding up his manacled hands.
“My apologies, Doctor, but I cannot disrobe with these confining my hands.” He
gave a soft snort of embarrassment and humiliation. “I even have to have a
guard with me so I can undress to use the toilet. I am not even given privacy
to attend to my bodily functions.”
Selar didn’t hesitate. She went to the door and rapped on its metal surface. It
opened immediately, the guard on alert. Holding up one hand, Selar said
quietly,
“I need to examine Captain Picard. I require you to remove the manacles so he
can disrobe.”
The guard was about to refuse, when she gave Jean-Luc an appraising look and
decided he posed no threat. Bending to Selar’s ear, the guard said
confidentially,
“I will release him, but I would appreciate it if you said nothing to anyone
about it.”
Bowing her head gracefully, Selar said,
“Thank you. You can be assured of my discretion.”
The guard removed the manacles, then went back outside, closing the heavy door
quietly. Jean-Luc didn’t resist as Selar helped him out of the overalls, in
fact he was grateful for her gentle assistance. He stood quietly, his eyes
closed as Selar not only scanned him with her medical tricorder, but made a
thorough visual examination.
Jean-Luc didn’t open his eyes until he heard water running. Understanding what
was required, he moved to the basin and watched with tears in his eyes as Selar
carefully and very gently washed him. Although an emotionless being, the fact
that she took the trouble to be so gentle, added to the simple sensation of
being touched by another being was overwhelmingly comforting for Jean-Luc.
Although the washing, even done so gently had hurt, he was disappointed when it
was over. Selar helped him back into his overalls and they sat together on the
bench. It was Selar who broke the lengthy silence.
“I take it you are not allowed to wash often?”
Jean-Luc tried to smile, but he failed. Instead he shrugged and sighed. “No. As
I told you, they don’t even like me to be able to use the toilet without
restraints.”
Selar tilted her head and gave her Captain a frank look.
“If I ask you a personal question, Captain, will you answer it?”
He smiled, but his expression was guarded. “That depends on the question.”
Selar nodded, but said nothing more. Curious, simply because the request had
come from a Vulcan, Jean-Luc said, “Ask me, Selar. You won’t know unless you
do.”
She seemed to consider that, then inclined her head and asked softly,
“Do you have any...faith, Captain? Do you believe in an afterlife?”
Leaning back until his head gently bumped the cold metal wall, Jean-Luc looked
up at the ceiling. He sighed.
“No, not really. In my life I have been given cause on one or two occasions to
think about it, but I always found I came back to the same conclusion.”
“May I ask what that conclusion is?”
His smile was almost wistful. “That there is nothing after death. That death is
merely the end of life. Full stop.”
Choosing her words carefully, Selar asked, “Then what purpose is there to
life?”
Jean-Luc’s smile broadened. “You are speaking as a Vulcan, Selar, and not as a
humanoid.”
“I do not see that there is any discernible difference, Captain.”
He huffed and amused breath. “Really? And what of your Katra?” Before she could
respond, Jean-Luc held up his hand. “Selar, you are aware of the deaths of my
older brother and his son many years ago?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Well, that left me the last of the Picards. The last of my lineage, Selar, the
last of centuries and centuries of Picards. It saddened me beyond belief and I
felt so guilty, Selar, guilty that I had never considered the burden I had
placed on my brother because I chose the life I wanted. Years passed and,
although the ache of my situation eased, it never really went away. Then...” He
sighed wistfully, “Doctor Crusher and I finally came to our senses and entered
into a committed relationship which, happily, produced two children, with one
more to come.” Sadness made him squeeze his eyes shut, but two tears slipped
free and when he spoke his voice was rough.
“Two of our precious children are gone now, but we still have our son. As long
as he lives to produce children and they live to produce children and so on and
so on, just as my ancestors had done before me, then even though my life is
soon to end, some part of me will go on. It may be tiny, insignificant really,
but as to your question about the purpose of life? My only answer is the
genetic imperative. By passing on one’s genes, one has achieved the only form
of immortality available to humans, indeed, to most humanoids.”
He turned to her and smiled; his eyes moist. “Your species possesses an
incredible gift with your Katra, Selar, because not only do you, along with so
many other humanoid species pass on your genes to your offspring, but at the
point of your death, you can impart the very essence of who you were. I know
that it is only so that essence can be taken back to your home, but for as long
as it exists, the spirit, some may call it your soul, exists and that is a
profound phenomenon. But is it the purpose of your life? No, I don’t think so.
As remarkable as it is, it does not prevail. We’re not talking here about some
kind of spiritual reincarnation. Vulcans are just as dependent on the genetic
imperative as humans...but think about this, Selar. In the future, millennia
perhaps or more, the humanoids of this sector of the galaxy might...just
might...become one genetically unified species. Now that has some purpose! And
if it occurs, none of us will ever lose the minute thing that made us who we
are. If such a thing occurs, then residing in billions of beings will be the
genes of all those species, even the individuals themselves who made up the new
evolving people.”
Selar sat in silence for some time, digesting what her Captain had said. She
looked at him, but he was staring at his hands, his thoughts elsewhere. Softly
she said,
“You do not fear your death?”
He sighed and pursed his lips.
“No, not the death itself, although I do hope it’s not too painful. What I fear
is what my death will do to my partner and our son.” He sighed again and lifted
his head. “It angers me that I can do nothing to ease the pain they will endure
afterwards.”
Not quite sure she should tell him, but feeling it was relevant, Selar said
quietly, “Are you aware your family is supposed to witness your execution,
Captain?”
He slowly closed his eyes and bowed his head. When he spoke it was in a pained
whisper.
“No.”
When she could think of nothing else to say, Selar stood and said gently,
“I am sorry, Captain.”
The soft rap on the door went unnoticed by Jean-Luc, his mind was elsewhere.
The cell seemed quite silent once Selar was gone, too silent for the distressed
man. He would have liked something to muffle the sounds of his sobs.
Advocate Jeran was rapidly losing patience with the archive custodian. Her
requests had been repeated three times, but she’d received the same inane
replies.
“You want to access the sub archives?”
Gritting her teeth, Jeran ground out, yet again, “Yes!”
“The sub archives.”
Deciding she was getting nowhere, Jeran tried a different approach.
“You work for the central law centre, yes?”
The officious male nodded warily. “Yes.”
“And your job, as custodian of the archives is to grant access and assist
Advocates as they use the archives to do research for their cases.”
“Yes. But, Advocate that entails the use of the regular archives, not the sub
archives.”
Dredging up a grim smile, Jeran made an effort to keep her tone mild.
“Well, the case I’m working on is very complex and I need to access the sub
archive as part of my research.”
She could see the male struggling with what she’d said. She got the impression
he wanted to help, but her request was so unusual he was confused as to what he
should do. Eventually he sighed and ran his long, thick fingers through his
yellow hair.
“Advocate, it’s not that I’m denying you access, it’s just that it’s been so
long since anyone has requested to source anything from the sub archive, I’m
not sure I either should or can grant you access. I’m not at all certain I have
the authority.”
Calming somewhat on realising the custodian wasn’t being deliberately
obstructive, Jeran modulated her behaviour.
“I see.” She even offered a warm smile. “Then who must I see about this? Your
superior, perhaps?”
The huge male shrugged.
“Well, yes, I suppose, but even she might not possess the authority. It might
be that you will have to petition the law council.”
Frowning deeply, Jeran rubbed her forehead. Almost in an undertone she said, “I
don’t have the time for that!”
The custodian heard her and sighed, his expression thoughtful. He’d heard about
Jeran and her celebrated client, the human from Starfleet and he just happened
to feel the Captain may need some help. Leaning forward, he said very quietly,
“Advocate, I might know someone who may be able to help in this matter, but I
must stress you can never divulge who gave you the information.”
Willing to clutch at any straw, Jeran nodded solemnly. “By the All Seeing One,
you have my word.”
The custodian came around from his desk, cupped his enormous hand around
Jeran’s ear and whispered his information. As he straightened he nodded towards
the door.
“I advise you not to make the call from here. Go to a communal communications
hub and make sure you use the net-wide connection code, not the local prefix.”
Nodding her understanding, Jeran offered a grateful smile and took the male’s
hand and gave it a squeeze, an unheard of gesture for two unrelated Ereban. Her
pupils slitted and she tilted her head, about to take an enormous risk. Very
quietly she said, “My bond mate and I are...special. We meet with other special
couples. Perhaps you might find it...beneficial to join us?”
His eyes narrowed and his skin darkened. With a slow nod he returned the
squeeze of her hand.
“When?”
“I’ll let you know.”
The sigh the male let out was one of heartfelt relief. “I’m so glad we met,
Advocate. I look forward to meeting with you, your bond mate and your friends.”
Not another word was shared as Jeran hurried to get out of the building and
into the square where the communications hub had its usual queues.
The voice that answered the call had a vid-block so Jeran was unable to see who
she was talking to. This wasn’t uncommon, but under the circumstances, Jeran
recognised it as a necessary and wise precaution. The voice was male, though
Jeran got the impression the owner of the voice was not long an adult.
“May I speak with Geen, please.”
“This is Geen, who may I ask is calling?”
“I am Advocate Jeran. The archive custodian at the central law centre suggested
I might get in touch with you.”
“Why?”
“I have a pressing need to access the sub archive and I don’t have time to go
through the normal process of petitioning the law council.”
“Advocate Jeran?” The voice was guarded but interested. “You’re representing
the human, Picard, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And am I correct in assuming your need to access the sub archives has
something to do with his case?”
Growing a little annoyed, Jeran said tightly, “I do have other cases you know.”
The chuckle only made her testier.
“I’m sure you do, but I’m right am I not?”
Through her teeth, Jeran hissed, “Yes!”
“Then meet me in the basement of the central law centre, tonight at fourteenth
crescent.”
“But the night staff...”
The chuckle was cold, sending a shiver down Jeran’s spine.
“You needn’t worry about that, Advocate, we will be alone, I assure you.”
Feeling she was getting into way too deep, Jeran tried to back out.
“Look, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I’m sure I can...”
Geen sighed. “Advocate, the moment you made this call you became involved in
something far bigger than you can imagine. I’m afraid you can’t back out now.
Whether you like it or not, you have become one of us.”
A cold sweat covered Jeran’s body. She was trembling as she asked tremulously,
“And just who are you?”
“Patriots, Advocates, patriots. I will see you tonight. Do not disappoint me.”
The line went dead and Jeran disconnected her end in a daze.
 
Will Riker, Deanna and Beverly were seated in the Sick Bay lounge, each deep in
their own thoughts. Beverly’s pale face still bore the pink stains of new skin
as the derma patches had been removed and she didn’t seem to be able to stop
the slight tremor in her hands, but she didn’t appear to notice it. Will leaned
back in his chair, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Well, I say, fuck ‘em. I cannot, in fact I will not sit up here on this ship,
Captain Picard’s ship, and let those people execute him!”
Sighing with resigned exasperation, Deanna said tiredly, “Will...”
He shook his head, suddenly leaning forward and stabbing his forefinger on the
tabletop. “No! And don’t give me any of your bloody reminders about fucking
duty! If what you’ve intimated at is true, then I don’t want to have anything
to do with an organisation that is willing to sit idly by and allow this farce
to take place!” He got to his feet and began his restless pacing. “Jesus! Even
if it wasn’t Jean-Luc Picard, what Command seems to be doing is just wrong! The
Federation protects its citizens and Starfleet defends them! Now you tell
me...isn’t the Captain both? A Federation citizen and a member of Starfleet? In
fact, isn’t he the most celebrated Captain in modern times?”
When neither woman spoke, Will grunted.
“I’m sorry Dee, but I just can’t let this happen.”
He stormed out of the room and Beverly sighed, a tear slipping down her face.
She spoke so softly, Deanna had to strain to hear her.
“He won’t allow it, you know. It’ll only make things worse.”
Deanna reached for Beverly’s hand, frowning at how cold it felt. “He has to do
something, Beverly. Will just wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he
didn’t at least try.”
Lifting her desolate eyes to her friend, Deanna was shocked to see how dull
they’d become. “Jean-Luc has lived his life as much by his word as his deeds.
To take that away from him, especially now, would make what is already an
intolerable situation that much worse. I’m not sure how he will find dignity in
his death, but if Will interferes it will rob Jean-Luc of any control he still
has over how he meets his own destiny.” Her body shuddered through a deep sigh
and she closed her eyes, forcing two more tears free.
“Don’t you think if it was as simple as beaming Jean-Luc up we’d still be here
at this blighted damned planet! God, if it were up to me he’d be aboard and
we’d be light years away by now.”
Swivelling her seat, Beverly stared listlessly at the planet below. “I don’t
know what’s going on, Dee, but whatever it is Jean-Luc thinks it’s important
enough to die for. It’s more important than me and David! You tell me, Deanna,
you know Jean-Luc just about as well as I do. You know the man behind the
Captain’s persona. What do you think?”
Deanna almost howled in anguish, knowing what she did and being unable to tell
the one person who needed to know it the most. Somehow Deanna had to find words
that weren’t platitudes or pale versions of the truth. Taking a deep breath,
she said softly, “I have never met another being whose principles were so
honourable, Beverly. That he should chose to allow the Ereban to execute him is
testament to the man he is. I know that’s cold comfort for you and David, but
it will provide memories of an extraordinary man who didn’t just pay lip
service to his word, but lived by it to the point where he is willing to die
for it.”
The smile that appeared on Beverly’s face was so filled with sorrow that Deanna
actually gasped.
“You’re forgetting something, Deanna.”
“What?”
“He promised himself to me. Body and soul. As I promised myself to him the same
way. No, we didn’t formalise it with a marriage, we never thought it necessary,
besides no ceremony could do justice to express what were are to each other.”
She sighed and bowed her head. “But it seems there is something greater than
our love.” She gave a soft snort. “God, I never thought it possible. Seems I
was wrong.”
She rose slowly and walked unsteadily out of the room. Deanna folded her arms
on the tabletop, rested her head on them and wept.
 
As the sensation of molecular transport tingled through his body, Jean-Luc
closed his eyes and groaned. When he opened his eyes again he was standing on
the transporter pad on the Enterprise, the strong hand of Will gripping his
elbow, trying to gently usher him off the pad.
Finding strength he didn’t know he had any more, Jean-Luc wrenched his arm free
and summoned a gimlet-like glare.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing!” Jean-Luc’s voice was like the crack
of a whip.
Standing to his full height, Will lifted his chin defiantly. “Captain, I refuse
to allow the Ereban authorities to carry out this travesty! I am fully prepared
to bear the consequences of my actions, in fact if necessary, I hereby resign
from Starfleet. You can throw me in the Brig, Captain, I don’t care, as long as
you are on the Enterprise, safe and sound.”
Bowing his head, Jean-Luc’s posture lost some of its rigidity; he was just too
emotionally tired to keep it up.
“Will...”
The First Officer wasn’t about to listen to his Captain, instead retaking his
elbow and saying gently,
“Come on, Captain, Beverly and David will be wanting to see you, Sir.”
Softer and in a tone Will couldn’t ignore, Jean-Luc said, “Take your hand off
me.”
At first Will thought his Captain wished to maintain his penchant for not
wanting public displays of affection or physical contact with any of his crew,
but when Will looked into his Captain’s eyes he knew he’d made a terrible
mistake. It was an order he simply couldn’t refuse. He released Jean-Luc and
gave him a beseeching look.
“Captain...please...” Will had never begged before in his life, but he was
willing to do so now. Jean-Luc saw the distress in the younger man and
relented, placing a paternal hand on Will’s shoulder. Softly, and in a kinder
tone, he said,
“Send me back, Will.”
Tears welled in Will’s eyes. “Please, Captain, God, please no...please stay.”
Somehow Jean-Luc found a smile.
“I can’t Will. Send me back, do it now before I’m missed.”
Mutely, Will shook his head, the war he was fighting inside tearing him apart.
Obey his Captain, honour and respect the wishes of a man he’d come to think of
as a father-figure and loved, or defy him and risk alienating him from Will’s
life forever. It would be at a terrible cost, but...he would live! Jean-Luc saw
the battle that raged within Will and saw how it was paralysing him. He softly
directed his next order to the Ensign at the transporter controls.
“Beam me back to my previous location, Ensign. Energise.”
The young man’s mouth was gaping and he could do nothing but nod in silence as
he did as he was ordered. As Jean-Luc’s body shimmered away, Will’s cry of
anguish could be heard right through the surrounding corridors, making crew
stop in their tracks. The Ensign watched as Will crumpled to his knees, bending
over until his forehead almost touched the deck. The Ensign, not knowing what
to do to help his Commander, immediately called for the ship’s Counsellor.
Deanna arrived within a minute or two and it was a very grateful Ensign who was
dismissed.
Will grabbed Deanna’s uniform and sobbed; his heart breaking. Deanna wept too,
unable and unwilling to shield herself from her lover’s torment and
heartbreaking sorrow.
 
It was only after taking the lift to the basement that Jeran realised she was
indeed alone. None of the night staff were present and the emptiness of the
building was eerily unnatural. With her footfalls echoing she walked swiftly to
the custodian’s office, finding the door unlocked, but no light on inside.
It wasn’t until she’d stepped cautiously into the room that the light came on,
momentarily blinding her. A voice she thought she recognised said with mild
amusement,
“Punctual, Advocate. A very commendable trait.”
With her sight adjusting, Jeran gasped as she realised there were three other
people in the room. Jeran gathered her wits and straightened her spine saying
haughtily,
“I wasn’t aware this was going to be a gathering. You said you would be alone.”
The youngest of the three stood up from his position of being hitched onto the
edge of the desk.
“There’s no need for such attitude, Advocate, we know what you are.”
Suspicion and fear skittered through Jeran and the young male saw it. He held
up one hand in a placatory manner. “Oh, you needn’t worry, Advocate, you’re
among friends. We’re all lurin.”
Still not willing to show her hand, Jeran was non-committal. “So?”
The young male lowered his head and smiled. “Your...invitation...to the
custodian...” He laughed. “Oh by the All Seeing One! I don’t know how he kept a
straight face! We’ve known about you and your bond mate for some time now,
Advocate. In fact we...” he gestured to his two companions. “Are part of a
group who know who all the lurin are.”
Scrambling to make sense of what he was saying and trying to gauge if she was
being obliquely threatened, Jeran said quietly, “And just what do you intend to
do with this information?”
His dark gold eyes glowed with intensity. “Gather our forces, Advocate. Quietly
assemble the right sort of people in the right sort of positions so that when
the overthrow takes place we will be in a position to assume power peacefully.”
“But it’s unlikely to be in our lifetime.” Jeran said cautiously. The male
shrugged.
“True, but if we lay the groundwork now, our offspring will follow us. It
doesn’t matter how long it takes, Advocate, the work must begin now, while
those in authority are still trying to figure out not what’s going on, they
think they know that, but what’s to come!”
“And you know?”
The male nodded slowly and for the first time in her life, Jeran felt out of
her depth. Yet she was intrigued and somehow encouraged and excited by his
words.
“Tell me!” She said urgently.
He shook his head. “No, now is not the right time. Do what you came here to do
and use what you find. I’m not sure it will help, but anything is better than
nothing.”
Frowning and still trying to understand, Jeran said quietly,
“The human, Picard. He is important, isn’t he.”
“More than you realise.”
“But his guilt is certain! There’s nothing I can do. His execution is a
foregone conclusion.”
The male sighed and Jeran heard his sadness. “Yes, we know. It is a great pity,
but his death will not be in vain.”
“What do you mean?” Jeran’s frustration was clear.
The male shook his head again. “You will find the lift will take you down to
the sub archive and all the computers are on. The file, Article 225.1 should be
in the directory and easily accessible.” He held up one finger. “But don’t
tarry, Advocate. Your time here is limited. Get the Article, then leave
immediately. Do not contact me again. If we need you, I will contact you. Is
that clear?”
Jeran had no option but to agree. At a gesture from the young male she left the
office and made her way to the lift. Somehow she resisted the urge to look over
her shoulder. She would’ve seen nothing if she had.
 
When he rematerialised in his cell, Jean-Luc stood absolutely still, listening
carefully, fully expecting to hear the sounds of sirens or other alarms, but
all was as it usually was, preternaturally silent. Suddenly fatigued beyond
measure he sat heavily on the bench and closed his eyes. The temptation to stay
on his ship had been so very persuasive; it had taken all his meagre reserves
of will to resist the urge to give in to his First Officer, especially given
how distraught the younger man was. When Will had mentioned Beverly and David,
Jean-Luc had almost given in, but he just couldn’t, however he paid a hideous
price, the pain not just his, but the pain he knew he was causing his partner
and son made him feel like howling his anguish and he very nearly did. The only
thing that stopped him was the knowledge that, on hearing him, he would have
been immediately sedated.
So he did what he’d done from the beginning of his perdition. Staring down at
the hem of his sleeve, he sneered at the little loose thread.
“Why won’t you break?” He asked rhetorically. Of course the analogous nature of
the question was lost on Jean-Luc in his present state of mind, as, like the
thread, he wouldn’t break either.
With the same dogged determination he gripped the thread and tugged sideways
and, just as it had always done so, it resisted, unbroken despite his continued
efforts. Just like his spirit.
 
Jeran’s bond mate was waiting for her as she entered their apartment. Before
she could put her data holder down he had wrapped his muscular arms around her
and was nuzzling her neck. The by now familiar sensation of sexual arousal
began without any control on Jeran’s behalf and, even though she desperately
wanted to study the Article, her body overruled her brain.
It was only much later, while lying together, still joined and gently caressing
each other that Jeran’s mind came back on line. She sighed and her bond mate
immediately felt the change.
“What is it?” he asked worriedly. “Am I doing something you don’t like?” He
leaned back a little to see where his organ was still inside Jeran.
Tentatively, mainly because he didn’t want to hear her agreement, he asked, “Do
you want me to remove my organ?”
Jeran knew her bond mate very well and both understood and appreciated what it
had taken for him to ask. To reinforce her acceptance of his presence in her
body, she smiled and used a new technique she’d learned. As she squeezed her
reproductive tube tightly and repeatedly, her bond mate gasped, his pale yellow
eyes widening with both pleasure and surprise.
“What did you just do? How did you do it?”
Jeran’s smile, though lazy didn’t hide her growing desire. “I have a friend...a
Doctor, who’s been getting information packages from the Federation ship in
orbit. Just recently, at my friend’s request, the information has been all
about human reproduction. By the All Seeing One, Murr, humans seem to be built
for pleasure! It’s as if sex is what they were made for. It’s really
complicated, especially compared with us, but the things they can do! And it’s
all about pleasure! What I just did, was to utilise muscles I didn’t even know
I had, to contract and release making my tube grip your organ. What was it
like? Did it feel good?”
By way of answering, Murr moved his enormous organ in and out of Jeran and she
almost purred as she realised his was once again ready. Unlike human males, an
Ereban male’s reproductive organ does not increase in size, it simply hardens,
but such it its length and weight, it doesn’t lift. The male has to hold it to
guide it into his mate. Doing something else Ereban weren’t supposed to do,
they both groaned softly with pleasure, and when Murr growled gently, “It felt
like you were squeezing it with your hands. You know how much I like that and I
became ready almost instantly.”
Lowering his deep husky voice to a coarse whisper, he confided, “You’re not the
only one with some new tricks. Do you like this?”
He shifted his body and carefully lifted one of Jeran’s legs until it rested
over his hip. This was almost blasphemous. But when he thrust, it brought his
organ in much closer contact with the clit-like organ inside Jeran’s tube. The
soft cry of intense pleasure was torn from her throat.
“How did you find out about that?” She gasped. Almost lost in his own
sensations, Murr said gutturally, “The intra net.” Jeran wanted to protest, to
admonish her mate for taking such a terrible risk but she was overcome with
pleasure. They quickly reached flood and each felt the expulsion of seed and
cell. Having already formed a bulb and accepting Murr’s seed in their previous
mating, Jeran knew that she would have the distasteful experience of the unused
seeds and cells exiting from her tube as soon as she stood up. But that was the
furthest thing from her mind. Enjoying the intimacy of the afterglow, Jeran
sighed and pressed her four breasts against the wall of Murr’s chest. He hummed
his pleasure and mumbled,
“Why were you so late tonight? I almost pleasured myself, having to wait so
long.”
Huffing with annoyed irritation, Jeran lifted her head and glared, the languor
quickly dissipating.
“I thought we’d agreed not to do that!” She shook her head. “It’s bad enough
being lurin and behaving as we do, Murr, let’s not compound the issue by acting
in a deviant manner.”
Careful to be gentle, but showing his disgust, Murr pulled his organ out and
left the bed, stalking to the cooler and removing a large bottle which he
wrenched off the top and drank from. It had been done to make a point as Jeran
had often complained that her bond mate more often than not refused to use a
drinking container if he was thirsty. Having slaked his thirst, he further
annoyed her by wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and belching loudly.
He turned to face her and, as annoyed as she was, she was unable to stop her
hungry eyes wandering over his naked body, dallying at his dangling organ.
Still, she was an Advocate of many years’ experience and she wasn’t ready to
let the matter drop.
“And using the intra net! You know that’s monitored!”
He came to the bed and sat, looking up at the ceiling. “Do you really think it
matters, Jeran? You talk about what constitutes deviant behaviour when we
ourselves are considered deviant just by our very existence. What does it
matter what we do in the privacy of our own home?”
“So you’re willing to expose us just to access forbidden material on the intra
net? Murr, you’re making a decision that affects both of us. Is that fair?”
He turned his introspective gaze from the ceiling to his bond mate. His pale
yellow eyes were sad. “Aren’t you tired of hiding, Jeran? Wouldn’t you like to
be able to walk with your head held high and say, I am lurin and I am Ereban. I
have as much right to exist as you have! And you have no right to persecute
me!”
Jeran sat up, knowing the action would make a mess on the bedding. She traced
her finger down Murr’s face and smiled. “Our day will come, Murr. If not for
us, then maybe for our offspring. I am now in brood. Our young will be lurin,
just like so many others. It’s up to us to start making changes, subtle,
unobtrusive changes that will pave the way for more tolerance, more acceptance
for those who come after us. But in the meantime, we must proceed with due
care, we must remain hidden within the very society that would ostracise us.
After all, what good can we do, if we’re locked up?”
Murr smiled and his eyes showed his affection and admiration for his bond mate.
“It’s little wonder you’re such a good Advocate.”
Jeran waved her hand and snorted. “Not so good, Murr. I haven’t won a case in
twelve years.”
“Yes, but that’s only because you chose to be a defence Advocate. Anyway, why
were you so late tonight? Was it work related?”
“Yes.” She sighed and, not willing to stand, asked Murr to pass her the data
holder. He did so, then sat beside her as she began to read. There was a
lengthy silence which Murr knew not to break, but Jeran’s sudden explosive
utterance of a particularly vulgar curse made Murr grip her elbow.
“What? What is it?”
“Those bastards! Those damned bastards!”
Unheeding of the mess it would create, Jeran abruptly left the bed and began to
stalk around their apartment, brandishing the data holder. “They knew! They
knew all along!”
Nonplussed and vaguely frightened, Murr left the bed, went to Jeran and gently
gripped her shoulders. “What are you talking about? Who are they and what did
they know?”
Her pale golden eyes flashing with barely suppressed anger, Jeran hissed. “They
are our legislators! The evidence is admissible!” She shook the data holder in
front of Murr’s face. “This Article was amended only two weeks ago! Yet it was
buried in the sub archive! They wanted it hidden.” She began to pace again,
muttering darkly. “Something’s going on Murr, something so big our government
doesn’t want the citizenry to know.” She spun around and jabbed the air with
the data holder. “And it has something to do with what’s been happening to
people like us!”
The huge male tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “But...if the Article was
only amended in the last two weeks, then it must have something to do with the
human, Picard.”
“Yes! Obviously!” Shaking the data holder again, Jeran growled, “For some
reason they want him out of the way.” Her legal mind was in overdrive.
“Coincidences!” Confused, Murr said cautiously, “What? What are you talking
about?”
“Coincidences, Murr. Too many, far too many. Those three males, the ones Picard
was so conveniently recorded killing. Why were they released within such a
close period of time to each other? In fact, why were they released at all? And
why haven’t the authorities been able to find who helped them? Why were they
near that particular park when Picard’s partner took her young for a walk? And
how did they know which apartment she was staying in?”
Murr shrugged, pulling down the corners of his mouth.
“I don’t know...but Jeran...what are you suggesting? Are you saying there’s
some kind of conspiracy at work? Some kind of...plot?”
Frowning deeply, Jeran tapped the edge of the data holder against her large,
square teeth.
“I think...” She grimaced and shook a fist. “I think our government, or some
secret part of it is in collusion with the Federation.”
Murr frowned in confusion. “But why? Picard was sent here to assess us for
membership. If the Federation is involved in some kind of deal with the
government, why are they willing to let Picard be executed? What possible
purpose could it serve? I mean, surely the execution of the very person upon
whom we rely on to give a favourable assessment would most likely rule us out
as a likely candidate for Federation membership.”
Defeated, Jeran forced her thumb nail between her front incisors. Then,
frustrated and angry, she threw the data holder across the room and shouted,
“I don’t know!”
Murr looked at the mess gathering at Jeran’s feet and sighed.
“Go and wash, I will clean the floor and change the bedding.”
Jeran looked down and grimaced. “Oh, sorry.”
Murr summoned a smile. “Don’t be, Jeran. We’re both responsible for it.”
Offering a grateful smile, as she walked across the room to the washing room,
she hesitated and said softly, “You are a good mate, Murr. I was fortunate
indeed to bond with you.”
His eyes travelled over her naked body and her eyes widened as his organ
hardened. “And you, Jeran, are beautiful.”
She was still in a daze as she washed under the cascading water. The arousal
rose within her and she closed her eyes against its insidious power. Murr had
never complimented her before, it was not the Ereban way, but to know her bond
mate found her attractive made her feel almost giddy. The steam from the hot
water carried her potent lurin scent to Murr. Intent on his task of cleaning
the floor, he suddenly froze, his flat nostrils flaring. Standing quickly, he
dropped his cleaning implement and hurried to the washing room. Jeran should’ve
been surprised and shocked when he joined her under the falling water, bathing
was considered an intensely private thing to do, but when his large hands
gripped her around her waist and turned her to face him, she could not deny her
desire.
Gently pushing her backwards, he nibbled her ear before whispering, “I know all
sorts of ways to lie, Jeran. Later, you and I will sit together at the monitor
and I will show them all to you. If you like, we can do any you see
that...excites you.”
As he spoke he lifted her leg, bent his knees and took hold of his organ.
Looking up into her bright eyes he said softly,
“Obviously I have not done this before; I have only seen a vid. If I do
anything that you find uncomfortable, just say so and I will stop.”
Stroking his face, Jeran’s desire was out of control. “Then it will be a first
for both of us. Hurry, Murr.”
He straightened his legs and pushed with his hips. His organ slipped inside
Jeran, sliding deep inside her and she yelped loudly, her head snapping back so
quickly it struck the wall with some force. Concerned, Murr, barely able to
control himself, managed to say, “Are you all right, Jeran?”
In response she contracted around him and all pretence of control was lost.
Ereban males are taught from a very young age that once reaching seed and
bonding, when they lay they must be gentle, lest they damage their mate. But it
would seem that lurin differ in this way as well, because Murr thrust hard in
and out of Jeran and she couldn’t get enough. Such was the force of the flood
and release, they both ended up on the tiled floor of the water cascade.
Murr recovered his senses first to find Jeran’s eyes closed; her body limp.
Alarmed, he gripped her chin and lifted it, saying urgently, “Jeran! Jeran are
you all right?” Opening her eyes to mere slits, Jeran gasped as Murr moved
slightly, causing his organ to slide deeper inside her.
“Murr...what are we? What have we become?” There was wonderment in her voice
and a relieved Murr did something else that neither had ever experienced. He
kissed her. At first shocked, Jeran blinked but then reached up and wrapped one
hand around the back of Murr’s head, slowly drawing him back to her lips. Murr
had only the vids he’d seen to go on, but when he opened his mouth and gently
brushed his tongue across Jeran’s lips, it was so natural for her to admit him
into her mouth. Tentative at first, their tongues touched shyly, but as arousal
grew again, their questing became more powerful. Somehow, in the confines of
the cascade stall, they had sex again, but it left them so exhausted and sore,
they stayed where they were for over two hours before Murr helped Jeran to her
trembling feet and tenderly washed away all evidence of their joining.
Happily, Murr had changed the bedding before he’d tackled the floor, so they
were able to tumble into bed. As sleep quickly swept over them, Jeran vaguely
made a note to herself to start asking some very subtle questions of some very
trusted people.
 
Jeran had never found her desk chair to be uncomfortable. In fact she’d taken
particular care in choosing it as she spent quite long periods of time at her
desk, but her reproductive tube opening was sore and inside she
felt...battered. But, although it made sitting somewhat uncomfortable, every
time she felt the discomfort she was forcibly reminded of what she and Murr had
done the previous night and that made her smile. She was in a good mood when
she’d arrived at the law centre, but upon taking the data holder from her bag
her good humour fled. She read the information twice and was just beginning to
go over it again when her secretary called on the office comm.
“Advocate, I have Counsellor Troi and Doctor Selar wishing to speak with you.”
By the tone of her secretary’s voice, Jeran knew he expected her to refuse to
take the call, but the two Starfleet women were precisely who she wanted to
see.
“Put the call through, please.”
The surprised, “Yes, Advocate.” Made Jeran smile. The console on her desk was
quite sophisticated and by the judicious use of a few additions to the normal
system, Jeran could be assured of privacy. She activated those additions now,
but refrained from allowing a vid link.
“This is Advocate Jeran.”
Deanna’s voice was pleasantly surprised. “Good morning, Advocate, thank you for
taking the call.”
“Not at all, Counsellor, in fact I was soon to contact you.”
“I see. A meeting perhaps?”
“Yes.” Jeran glanced at her time piece. “Can you be at my office at three
crescent?”
“We will be there, Advocate.”
“I look forward to it. Goodbye, Counsellor.”
 
The slightly built human was feeling very edgy. He didn’t like this; he didn’t
like it at all. He was used to being in control, not dangling on a very
delicate thread working at the behest of people who worked in shadows, much
like he did. For a being as huge as his contact, the male moved remarkably
quietly. He was at the human’s side just as the man registered his presence.
The human kept his voice low, the synthesiser masking his true voice.
“I don’t like this, it is too compromising!”
“I know,” Agreed the Ereban male. “Nevertheless, we thought this the best place
to meet.”
Trying to keep the derision out of his tone, the human said tersely, “Inside
the central government building?”
The big male snorted. “Do you really think they would consider it possible that
the spy they hunt with such fervour is right under their noses? Inside their
own complex?”
Dismissing the discussion with a wave of his gloved hand, the human said, “He
was transported aboard his ship an hour ago.”
The male stiffened and gasped.
“What? There were no alarms! I’ve seen no reports of an escape!”
Calmly, the human held up a device with a screen. It showed Jean-Luc
rematerialising in his cell. The male shook his huge head. “I do not
understand. He returned? Why? Why didn’t he stay on his ship? There would’ve
been nothing we could do about it.”
The Ereban couldn’t see the wry grin on the human’s face as it was obscured by
the black balaclava he wore.
“This is no run-of-the-mill human, my friend. This man is rare, he has
principles, principles he’s willing to die for.”
Still confused, the male hissed, “Are you referring to him failing his mission,
or his killing of those scum who murdered and violated his family?”
The human shrugged. “Does it matter? The result is the same.”
The male glared down at the smaller being. “Yes it matters! You would kill one
of your own for failing a mission?”
Again the human shrugged.
“Of course we would! Think of what’s at stake! Isn’t it worth the life of one
man?”
The Ereban male ground his teeth, making a very unpleasant noise. Eventually he
asked,
“So, will Ereban be admitted into the Federation?”
The human’s eyes drifted down to the device in his left hand. “Why ask me? I
don’t know. I’m just a worker ant.”
“I do not believe you! You are not being...what do you humans say? Frank, with
me. I do not like being lied to.”
Although only implied, the threat was very real. The human wasn’t worried. Not
only was he an expert in martial arts, he was also very well armed and, just as
Jean-Luc had been, he was well aware of the males’ utterly glaring
vulnerability. But, although he wouldn’t hesitate to kill the Ereban, it would
prove to be rather time consuming and inconvenient in getting rid of the body.
After all, they were inside the central government building and finding a body
inside there was sure to stir up a most unwanted hornet’s nest. So he simply
sighed and offered a one arm shrug. “Very well. Yes. Ereban is to be admitted.
In fact the decision had been made before Picard was even sent.”
“And he knew?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did he wait? Why didn’t he make contact!”
The Ereban couldn’t see the human’s frown, but even with the voice synthesiser,
the male clearly heard the human’s confusion. “I can’t answer that, my friend.
Unless...”
“Unless what?”
“Well it might sound naive, but there is a chance albeit remote, that he was
actually attempting to do his job.”
“What? What job?”
“Assessing your planet for membership. That is, after all, what he was sent
here to do, at least that’s the official reason. And, being the man he is,
maybe he saw that your planet isn’t really Federation material.”
The male’s voice became deceptively quiet. “I do not like what you’re
implying.”
Clapping a gloved hand on the male’s massive shoulder, the human said cockily,
“Well it really doesn’t matter now, does it? A new Federation delegate is on
her way, I’m sure once she makes contact everything will run smoothly.”
“This delegate? She is bonded?”
The human rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yes,” He said sarcastically. “And she
has a couple of brats as well as a husband. I’m sure you’ll find her just
peachy.” He looked again at his device and became all business. “So, you have
the right people in place?”
“Yes, They will lay the foundations.”
“Good! Right, it’s time I was out of here. I take it the way is still clear?”
The Ereban’s hands twitched as if he really wanted to break the human’s neck.
“Yes. Go back the way you came. You will not be seen.”
“Thank Christ; I can’t wait to get out of this rat’s nest.”
Seeming to just disappear into the shadows, the human suddenly left. The male
glowered. He didn’t know what a rat was, but he was certain he’d just been
insulted.
Once outside the building and in a private little alcove, the human requested a
beam out. He would make his report to his team leader. Section 31 was very
busy, doing the clandestine work the Federation Council insisted did not exist.
Deanna was right. The Federation had become corrupt. In their own way, the
Federation had become as power hungry and as avaricious as those they accused
of being the very same way. The only difference was that the Federation clothed
themselves in benevolent, but false pretences.
After enduring the Dominion War, then the disastrous Borg incursion what little
remained of the lofty goals of the Federation were snuffed out by the realities
of almost ten years of constant war. If the Federation was ever to recover they
had to find new, unsuspecting ‘members’ wherever they could and at the same
time, try to find a way to win the inevitable war that was brewing with the
Typhon Pact. And if there were casualties like Jean-Luc Picard along the way,
sobeit. The sad fact was people like Jean-Luc had become a problem to the
Council because he possessed a moral conscience and that made entities like
Section 31 just that much harder to carry out their nefarious work.
When this business with Ereban was finally solved, a lot of very good people
would no longer serve, not in Starfleet or the Federation, but if the Council
had learned anything it was that people could be replaced. Power, real power,
could not.
 
Doctor Absum had already begun what Jeran intended. Although not lurin herself,
she was sympathetic to them and, as she and her bond mate had discussed the
issue at some length, they felt it incumbent upon them to do whatever they
could to try and find out just what was going on. The relative who had made her
aware of Article 225.1 had become somewhat mysterious and a little nervous when
Absum had queried what the Article contained and when she’d asked how her
relative knew of its existence, being that anything in the sub archive
should’ve been long forgotten about, the relative refused to say anything more
and abruptly left.
It was only after a lot of introspection that Absum came to the realisation
that her relative was most probably lurin. At first it had been extremely
unpalatable, but, as a Doctor and cognizant of the growing numbers of both male
and female lurin, Absum came to the inescapable conclusion that her own
extended family...her blood lines had already been tainted and there was
nothing she could do but accept it. And with that acceptance came the desire to
do whatever she could to assist what she had finally come to believe was the
true destiny of her species. Her bond mate, a researcher in the botanical
sciences had offered his help as well, just in case the cause was something in
the food chain at least the vegetables and grains and he had promised to make
subtle enquires with his fellow scientists in the animal sciences to see if the
flesh Erebans consumed was somehow at fault.
With these enquires underway, Absum turned her mind to what she knew best.
Ereban physiology and genealogy. Unlike the law centre, the medical archives
were readily accessible, though strictly regulated and secured. Absum managed
to set aside two full days (on the pretext of research, which wasn’t a total
fabrication, she was researching, just not what her superiors thought), to see
if she could find some kind of pattern or, at the very least, try to establish
just when the changes had begun. It was her hope if she could do either of
these things, she might be able to discover the cause and in doing so,
formulate a tentative prediction as to what the Ereban might become and, most
importantly, when.
It was late on the second day and the staff at the medical archive were closing
up for the night, but Absum had managed to secure permission to work on, having
promised to shut down the area when she was finished. The computer she was
using wasn’t a standard model, its computing power was greater than what was
usually required for most tasks, but as she needed to access what was basically
ancient history, albeit medical history, the storage and recovery power was
much greater than normal.
She had been diligently digging away, slowly amassing some very
interesting...and telling...information when suddenly her monitor screen went
blank. She frowned and said quietly and with a little irritation,
“Reboot.”
Nothing happened and that was almost impossible. She had never had a computer
not respond to such a basic command. Unease began to make her skin tighten.
Summoning a clear voice, she said firmly,
“Computer, reboot.”
The quiet deep voice behind her made her startle violently.
“Do not turn around, Doctor. Your computer has shut down on my command.”
Absum froze, sweat breaking out in beads on her brow, making her shiver in the
climate controlled cool room.
“Push your chair back from the desk but do not attempt to turn around.”
She did as she was told and sensed the air change as the person moved closer.
Something hard was pushed into the soft spot at the base of her skull and the
pressure on this vulnerable area was enough to make her lightheaded and
nauseous.
“You are interfering in things that are none of your business, Doctor. I advise
you...” The object was pressed with more force, making Absum’s vision grey. “To
forget about it. It does not concern you. Do you understand?”
She somehow managed to nod.
“Good. Now, give me the name of your lurin relative.”
Swallowing, Absum’s huge heart began to race. To betray a family member was
absolutely unforgivable. She would be exiled from her family, her bond would be
dissolved, her offspring would disown her and she would be disassociated.
Everything about who and what she was would be taken from her. Without her
family, her bond mate or her career she would be at the mercy of the state. It
was not something she would even contemplate, not for so much as a second.
“No.” Flat and unequivocal.
She felt the puffs of breath as the male spoke close to her ear. “You do
realise we have methods of extracting any information we want?”
Although very frightened, Absum was resolute. “I will not betray a family
member.”
The male sighed, then said fatalistically “Then you give me little choice.” A
large, powerful hand gripped Absum’s upper arm and, as she was hoisted to her
feet, the voice said sinisterly, “Of course if you don’t tell us what we want
to know, we will use...other...methods to unearth the lurin. And once we have
it, it will be made to pay for your defiance.”
The pressure on the base of her skull increased as she was dragged backwards,
Absum began to say her silent goodbyes to her mate, offspring and family,
hoping forlornly the somehow her blood would be able to be extracted from her
remains, provided they were ever found, when the main lights suddenly came on.
Absum had turned off all the lights except that which shone on her work
station. The only way the main lights could’ve come on was if someone from the
staff had entered the archive room. However, the Doctor was shocked to hear the
unmistakable sound of a weapon charging. A male voice shouted, “Whoever you
are, show yourself!”
The voice at Absum’s ear was soft and laced with urgency. “Not a sound, Doctor.
Stay silent or you will die.”
She was pulled backwards, deeper into the cavernous room. The work stations
were placed at regular intervals, but there was insufficient distance between
them to afford any cover. Forced down into a crouch, the voice said, “We are
going to make our way to the entrance by the far wall.” The hard hand pushed
her face down and the voice whispered, “On your belly, Doctor. No sound, not a
false move or you will most surely die.”
Not knowing what was to happen, but bound to obey, Absum crept forward, but
she’d only gone a few metres when she heard a grunt and the sound of a blade
slicing through flesh. She paused, almost too scared to look back, but she had
to see. Lifting her upper body and getting to her knees, she slowly turned. Two
males, one holding a smeared knife, the other a blaster, stood over the body of
a third, a spreading pool of blood staining the polished stone floor.
Transfixed, Absum got to her feet, her entire body trembling. One of the males
looked up and offered a sympathetic smile. “I am sorry you have become
involved, Doctor, but the moment your relative revealed the existence of
Article 225.1, you were dragged into something you were never supposed to know
about.”
Frowning down at the growing pool of blood, Absum raised a shaking finger and
pointed.
“His blood...you must collect it.”
The male looked down at the body with open disgust. “It is worthless.”
Absum was shocked and angry. “Even if he is lurin, you must preserve his blood!
He has the right to...”
Standing to his full height, the male shared a knowing look with his companion
and sighed. His voice carried both revulsion and anger. “He is not lurin,
Doctor, he is not even Ereban!”
Absum’s mouth gaped and she stared down at the corpse. Although she’d not seen
his face, by what she could see of his face down body, clothed as was normal in
a brightly coloured sarong-like garment, he seemed to be entirely Ereban. She
could see nothing unusual about him.
While the silent male began to drag the corpse away, the other male took
Absum’s elbow and led her back to her work station where he eased her into her
seat. Crouching in front of her, he waited patiently for the questions he knew
would come. His wait was a short one.
“If he is not Ereban, what is he then?”
“We don’t know.”
“Then how do you know he’s not Ereban?”
“We know.”
“But how?”
The male smiled and this time Absum saw genuine warmth. “Tomorrow you will
dissect the body. While we know he is not Ereban, what we don’t know is what he
is. You will tell us.”
She shook her head. “I cannot! My allotted time for research ends tonight.
Tomorrow morning I must report for my normal work.”
The smile widened. “Your superiors will find it necessary to grant you two more
days.”
Still shaking her head, Absum held up her hands. “But I can’t do it in the
central morgue! If he is not Ereban the staff will soon know.”
“You won’t be performing the dissection in the central morgue.” Before she
could ask, the male placed a hand on her arm, a gesture, coming from an
unrelated person, would normally be considered a great effrontery.
“A ground vehicle will come for you very early tomorrow morning. Be outside
your apartment block two crescents before the sun rises.”
“But my bond mate...”
“Is already in our...care.”
Alarm showed on Absum’s face and the male shook his head.
“It is all right, Doctor he has not been harmed, nor will he be. We do not wage
our struggle against our own people.”
“So...he is not a hostage? I am not being coerced?”
“No, in fact, you may refuse to help, but if this...” He pointed at the now
reactivated screen. “Is anything to go by, then I think I am right in saying
you are highly motivated to carry through with your...investigations.”
Absum glanced at the screen and frowned. “What do you expect me to find?”
The male sighed. “We’re not certain, until we discovered your...interest, we
didn’t have someone with your level of medical knowledge to help us. We
could’ve gained access into these archives at any time, but what good would
that have been without someone like you who knows, not only what to look for,
but recognise and understand it when you found it!”
Absum closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Bowing her head she said softly,
“What has this to do with the human, Picard?”
Her question was greeted with silence. She looked up to see the male watching
as three more Ereban were cleaning the floor of the gore, removing all evidence
of the violent death. Absently he replied,
“We don’t know; other than he is connected somehow, but how...” He shrugged his
massive shoulders.
He turned his attention back to Absum. “Will you help us?”
The Doctor snorted. “I don’t even know who you are!”
“We are patriots, Doctor. Are you? Do you love Ereban?”
“That can mean so many things! Are you asking if I love my planet? My family?
My species? What do you mean?”
Pulling down the corners of his mouth, he shrugged again. “It need not be so
complicated, Doctor. I suppose the fundamental question is, do you love our
existence?” He swept his arm wide. “Everything, Doctor, from the smallest
crawling creature to your fellow beings. Everything, Doctor, here everything is
Ereban.”
Absum tilted her head, the enormity of his statement shattered so many
ingrained thoughts and emotions and teachings. The All Seeing One was supreme
and the Ereban were the living embodiment of her. To place the lower life forms
at the same level was at best seditious and at worst blasphemous.
“I don’t know what to say.” She whispered. The male squeezed her shoulder and
stood.
“Then you have much to think about, but while you think, will you help us?”
Absum’s head nodded before she actually made the intellectual agreement. It was
as if her acquiescence was atavistic, almost a survival response.
The hand on her shoulder patted her in a very intimate way, but Absum wasn’t
the least bit offended.
“Good.” Then he bowed so he could whisper, “And the data chip you’ve been
downloading to...make sure it stays safe. We both know the archival files may
not be downloaded; in fact the files are not to leave this facility. True?”
All Absum could do was nod mutely. If this male wished to, he didn’t have to
kill her; he could destroy her life with a mere vid call to her superior. To
trust someone outside one’s family was unheard of, but what choice did she
have? While she was contemplating her fate, the male said quietly,
“Access files at previous reference date and display.”
The computer complied and the screen filled with information. The hand squeezed
her shoulder and the male’s voice was warm and friendly. “I will leave you to
your work, Doctor, and I wish you good luck.”
He stepped away and Absum turned quickly. “Will I see you again?”
He grinned. “Probably. Perhaps even as soon as you’ve finished the dissection.
But mine is a dangerous occupation, death stalks me...” He looked at his
companions as they finished their gruesome work. “It stalks all of us, but...”
He sighed. “Like the gallant Captain Picard, we feel the struggle is worth the
risks.” He looked down at Absum and his smile was a sad one. ‘It is a pity
though...even if we succeed we won’t live to see the final outcome. That will
be in times far yet to come.”
He left and Absum turned her head, staring at the now pristine place on the
floor where a being had died. It was surreal and for a moment she wondered if
it had really happened. Then the computer beeped, letting her know that if she
didn’t tell it not to, it was about to adopt a standby mode.
Her voice didn’t sound like hers as she said absently, “Continue.”
 
Jeran was ready when Deanna and Selar took their seats in front of her huge
desk. The Advocate had, by initiating her subtle enquires, set in motion more
of the underground movement, but of course she was completely unaware of just
how complicit she had made herself. Where she thought she was dealing with some
sort of government conspiracy, she had no idea of the true scope and complexity
of exactly what was going on. Whether or not her ignorance would be enough to
save her would be crucial to Jean-Luc’s survival.
Before either of the Enterprise women could utter a word, Jeran stunned them by
saying, “The information Doctor Absum shared with you about the murdered males’
past criminal histories is admissible.”
Deanna tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. Cautiously she said, “Article
225.1?”
Jeran bowed her head. “Yes.” But before anything further could be said, she
held up one long finger. “What I am about to tell you, could be considered
treason.” Deanna’s senses easily picked up the Advocate’s deep unease and fear
and she wondered just how much the Ereban knew. Holding up a data holder, Jeran
said quietly, “The information within the Article was amended as recently as
two weeks ago.”
It was Selar who said, “But we were under the impression that all the articles
held in the sub archives had been relatively undisturbed for generations. You
yourself told us that.”
Jeran nodded, her expression pained. “And what I told you was true! I am as
surprised by this as you.”
“Three questions,” said Deanna softly. “What was the original article, what was
the amendment and who made it?”
Jeran sighed and rubbed her brow.
“The article was a challenge, a successful one as it turned out, which was
exactly why it was in the sub archive. Apparently, generations ago, a very
similar situation to your Captain’s occurred. An Ereban male came back to his
dwelling to find another male forcing himself on his bond mate. Enraged, a
fight ensued and the bond mate was successful in rendering the assailant
unconscious. Then he killed the male. Of course, by Ereban law, he had murdered
a helpless citizen. Therefore, the charge he faced was that of unprovoked
murder. But...and this is what’s important. The authorities discovered that
this wasn’t the first act of...rape...perpetrated by the dead male, and it was
found that if the bond mate was executed for his crime, his family would be
severely disadvantaged. So, special dispensation was granted and the
assailant’s criminal past was allowed to be entered for the defence. The case
was won and the arrested male was set free. But...because the evidence had only
been allowed to be entered under special dispensation, it was never made an act
of legislation. In essence, it never became law.”
Frowning, Deanna asked, “Then how can our information be admissible now?”
Jeran’s smile was grim. “Because this...” She held up the data holder. “Has set
a precedent! One I can exploit. I’m not aware how your system of law works, but
here, as long as some sort of precedent exists and I can show clear evidence of
it, it can be used. It’s not going to go down well with the Presider, but she,
or he, won’t be able, at least not legally, to refuse it.”
Jeran sat back and tossed the data holder onto the desk. “The amendment, a
clumsily made attempt I must say, was to try to make it seem that the challenge
had failed and that legislation had been passed to prevent such dispensations
occurring again. As to who did it?” She shrugged. “While the attempt at the
amendment may have been clumsy, the effort to erase the identity of the
individual...or individuals...who did it was not. So far I have been unable to
find out who was responsible. In fact, I have been unable to even find out who,
if anyone, has requested to visit the sub archive at all!”
There followed a short, tense silence before Selar asked quietly, “Could it
have been done remotely?”
Jeran frowned. “You mean by accessing the data without actually visiting the
archive?”
“Yes.”
The Advocate frowned deeply, obviously giving considerable thought to something
she found hard to believe. Eventually she conceded. “Well I suppose it’s
possible, but I’ve never heard of anyone being able to circumvent the
government security data protection protocols. I mean, why would they?”
“To do just what has been done.” Deanna said dryly. Jeran shot her a hot look,
then her eyes slitted. “You know more than you’re telling me, Counsellor.”
Inclining her head, Deanna made it clear the Advocate was correct. Jeran
snorted and thumped her large hands on the desktop. “Then how do you expect me
to do my job if my hands are tied? If you know something I can use, then tell
me! I am the one responsible for defending the indefensible! How can you
withhold information that might save your Captain’s life?”
Sighing, Deanna clasped her much smaller hands on the vast expense of the
desktop. “Because, Advocate, I have to obey my Captain. He has given me an
order that I am compelled to obey.”
“I don’t understand!” Jeran almost shouted. “Are you telling me your Captain
also knows something about what’s happening and he’s not willing to say
anything either?”
In the face of Deanna’s stoic silence, Jeran abruptly came to her feet, placed
her fists on the desktop and loomed over her guests. “Then answer me this,
Counsellor. What use is there in obeying the orders of a condemned man? Will
his orders serve any purpose after he’s dead?”
Again, Deanna refused to respond. Jeran, frustrated and angry sat down, leaned
back in her seat and steepled her fingers under her chin, studying the two
women before her. “I find your silence very telling, Counsellor. You, in fact
both of you, seem to represent an enigma. On the one hand you are desperate to
assist your Captain, yet on the other, you seem to be deliberately hampering my
efforts to do just that. What is it you want me to do?”
Deanna smiled, but it lacked any warmth, in fact it was immeasurably sad. “Just
do whatever you can for Captain Picard and we will assist you as best we can.
That, Advocate is all I can tell you.”
Jeran sighed and directed her gaze at the data holder. “I feel like I am forced
to work without clarity of vision.” She looked up and, mixed with anger was
defeat. “Very well, Counsellor, I will do what I can, but I will never
understand why you refuse to help me to save the life of a person you profess
to hold in such esteem.”
Deanna was quickly reaching a point where she felt she could no longer keep her
Captain’s confidences...or obey his orders but she didn’t know who to confide
in. Certainly not Will, he would be so incandescent with rage there would be no
telling what he might do, not Beverly, already too traumatised. She was lost in
thought as Jeran brought the meeting to a close and it wasn’t until they were
being ushered from the room that Deanna realised she had the perfect confidant
beside her. Once out of the building, Deanna said quietly,
“Selar, once you have been to see the Captain, would you come to my office?
There’s something very important I need to discuss with you.”
The Vulcan gave Deanna a speculative look and slowly nodded. “Very well,
Counsellor. I had thought you might wish to confide in me.”
Deanna was unable to keep the shock off her face. Her whispered, “What do you
know?” Was met with a blank expression. “I do not think this an appropriate
locale for such a discussion, Counsellor.”
Brought back to her senses, Deanna gave and embarrassed nod. “Of course. I’ll
expect you in an hour or so?”
“Yes, Counsellor.” Deanna reached to tap her comm. badge when Selar said
softly,
“Do not lower your guard, Deanna. There is danger all around.” As she
dematerialised, Deanna realised that was the very first time she could recall
Selar had ever using her given name.
Unlike Deanna had done, Selar had no intention of either walking or using the
public transport system, instead requesting to be beamed to the hospital foyer.
By now the staff and the administration had come to understand that Jean-Luc
was not a dangerous patient and so Selar found him unfettered and they were
afforded privacy without having to ask.
Upon entering Jean-Luc’s cell, Selar found him standing at the rear of the
room, his head bowed. Selar went to the basin and began to unpack her
equipment. Silently Jean-Luc joined her and without any assistance, removed his
clothing, then as Selar began to wash him with the medicated soap, he closed
his eyes and sighed. Instead of just washing the affected areas, Selar washed
his entire body, then, with exquisite gentleness, she shaved the raw areas and
then, again with tender gentleness washed the areas again. But, just when Jean-
Luc expected her to tell him to dress, she moved behind him and began to
massage his tense shoulders and neck. No one other than Beverly had ever
touched him with such implied intimacy, although Jean-Luc clearly understood
there was nothing sexual at all in what Selar was doing. Naked and completely
vulnerable, Jean-Luc surrendered to her knowing hands as she worked her strong
fingers, kneading hard, but not painfully so, all the way from his neck,
shoulders and back, right down to his buttocks.
It wasn’t until she said softly, “You may dress now, Captain.” That he realised
she was finished. He sighed deeply, greatly saddened at the loss of physical
contact. Though an unemotional being, Selar was well aware of the comfort her
Captain derived from what she did for him and when she saw that he was having
difficulty seeing the closures of his overall through his tear filled eyes, she
gently brushed his hands aside and closed the garment for him. As she took his
elbow and eased him to sit on the bench, he whispered, “Bless you, Selar.”
She thought it odd that he should choose to use those particular words, given
that he possessed no faith, but then she realised he was paying acknowledgement
to hers. It was rare for Selar to feel gratitude, but she did so now. Once they
were seated, the Doctor administered the hypos and the unpalatable liquid and
in the space of the time that took, Jean-Luc had composed himself.
Selar judged his mood and decided now was the time to discuss what had been on
her mind for some time.
“Captain Picard, in my position as a Doctor, working in Starfleet and in
particular on the Enterprise, I have become a very astute student of the
nuances of human behaviours. Had I stayed on Vulcan, among my own people I
would not have developed these skills, it would not have been necessary, but,
because I have spent so many years living and working among humans, I have
found it has assisted me greatly in learning how to deal with such
unpredictable and emotional beings.”
Although it may have sounded insulting, Jean-Luc knew it was simple truth and
didn’t react. Indeed he kept silent, giving tacit permission for the Doctor to
continue.
“It is by utilising these abilities of mine that I have come to the inescapable
conclusion that you have shared information with Counsellor Troi that directly
impacts on not only your current situation, but on your mission to Ereban and
your order to the Counsellor to not divulge what she now knows is greatly
distressing her, Captain. I have been observing her increasingly obvious signs
of distress. Such is her distress and her need to confide in someone, she has
requested I meet with her upon returning to the Enterprise. I can only surmise
she intends to unburden herself to me.”
Jean-Luc closed his eyes and sighed. Selar, still carefully watching the man,
continued. “I am not seeking your approval or permission, Captain, merely
informing you of what I believe is going to occur.”
He turned and looked at Selar for the first time since she’d entered his cell.
“And what do you intend to do with this...information?”
“That depends, Captain, on what it is.”
His eyes darkened. “Are you asking me to tell you?”
Selar made a very human gesture in shrugging. “It would help, Captain,
especially given Counsellor Troi’s difficulties.”
Jean-Luc leaned back until he met the cold metal wall behind him. He then
allowed his head to bump the wall, closed his eyes and sighed.
“Very well.”
Over the next half an hour, Jean-Luc told Selar all he knew, including his
suspicions about Section 31, whose existence he had to explain as Selar was
completely unaware of their reality. She confessed she had heard rumours of a
clandestine entity that existed deep within the Federation, but without any
proof, she chose not to believe. That, of course was the Vulcan way. No Vulcan
would put any credence to a rumour without any proof as to its veracity. A
rumour was just that. A rumour.
When he had finished, he seemed drained as if the telling, again, only served
to make his burden heavier instead of lighter. Quietly, Selar asked, “What do
you want me to do, Captain?”
His eyes opened and he lifted his body abruptly. “Nothing!” His tone was sharp.
“In fact, Doctor, I’m giving you the same order I gave Counsellor Troi. You are
not to divulge anything of what I’ve just told you to anyone, with the obvious
exception of Deanna Troi. Is that clear, Doctor?”
Selar’s gaze was steady, but she was confused. “Yes, Captain, but may I ask
why, sir?”
He closed his eyes and let out a short breath through his nose. “You must now
realise there is much more at stake here than my life. Any interference could
be disastrous.”
“Yes, Captain, I can see that, sir, but what I do not see is why you have to
permit your execution. It is illogical, Captain. If what you have told me is
true, then the very laws you purport to submit yourself to are inherently
flawed.”
“That may be, Selar, but it is not my place, or yours to say so. Neither of us
is in any position to protest. I have no other option but to accede. My oath to
Starfleet demands it.”
Tilting her head, Selar said quietly, “You would wish to uphold your oath in
the face of what you suspect? Despite what you know sir?”
His smile was a sad one. “Yes, because I have nothing but suspicions. No proof,
Selar and I cannot break my word without incontrovertible proof.”
“Captain, there is no point in becoming a martyr. It is illogical.”
He snorted softly. “I’m not going to become a martyr, Selar, but I do hope my
death brings about change. Change for the better for the Ereban people.”
The rap on the door was loud in the quiet cell. Selar was reluctant to leave,
but Jean-Luc offered her a smile. “If it helps, Selar, I am reconciled to my
impending death. My only regret is the pain and distress it will cause my loved
ones. I can only hope they will one day forgive me for leaving them, and that
they come to understand that, although I seem to do so willingly, in my heart I
would’ve given anything to stay with them, but I simply cannot.”
The Vulcan stood and looked down at her Captain. He was immensely humbled when
she clasped her hands in front of her and bowed low. “I honour thee, Captain
Jean-Luc Picard.”
She turned, picked up the medkit and left without another word spoken between
them.
She was being escorted out of the building when met by the hospital
administrator in the foyer.
“Doctor Selar?”
“Yes.”
“I am Cerran, the Administrator here at the hospital. I have a message from
Advocate Jeran.”
Selar bowed her head.
“The Advocate has been told by the central law centre, that patient 55839 will
be scheduled to stand trial as soon as he is deemed healthy.”
Tilting her head, Selar frowned. “I do not understand.”
Somewhat confused, the administrator said carefully, “What is it you don’t
understand?”
“Why is it necessary for Captain Picard to be healthy before he stands trial?
As I understand it, your intention is to execute him immediately after the
trial ends. What does his state of health have to do with anything? It is
illogical. You are going to end his life whether he is sound of health or not.”
The administrator’s eyes narrowed. “Of course it is necessary for him to be
healthy! The State does not execute the unwell; that would be barbaric. To
enter the afterlife, one has to be as physically fit as possible, just as one
enters the world. Would you have the spirits offended?”
Knowing it would be pointless to argue, Selar merely nodded. “I will inform him
on my next visit.”
She went to tap her communicator when the Female made it clear there was more.
Lowering her hand, Selar inclined her head. The administrator reached inside
her robe and removed a data holder and gave it to Selar. “The information about
the execution is on here, but there are two things you should know, seeing as
you’re all unfamiliar with our ways, so you can tell the patient and he has
time to prepare. First, in the hours before his trial he will be required to
produce three separate reproductive samples. Now, with an Ereban, this would
have be done under anaesthetic and drugs would be required to encourage
production of cells and seeds, but from what I understand, the patient is
capable of securing the samples on his own. Is that correct?”
Frowning, but keeping her own counsel, Selar nodded. “Yes, that is so.”
“Then please inform the patient that four hours before the beginning of his
trial, he will be required to produce the samples. Now, the other thing is that
all members of his immediate family are required to attend his execution. They
do not have to be at the trial, but their presence is required at the
execution.”
Selar sighed. “May I ask why either of these requirements are necessary?”
As if speaking to a child, Cerran smiled and said kindly, “Well you wouldn’t
want his family to be without the means to replenish his blood tie would you? I
mean even criminals have some rights!” She then bent down and whispered,
“Actually, it’s been decided that under the circumstances, your Captain
deserves the chance to allow his partner to have another brood. He has a lot
of...sympathisers. You mustn’t tell anyone about this; it’s something we here
at the hospital have arranged.” She then straightened and became all business
again. “As for the other, that’s Ereban law. The condemned’s family must attend
to witness the execution, then wait while the blood is processed and the body
restored. Once taking possession, they can leave together.”
Glancing at the data holder, Selar nodded. “Very well, administrator, I will
inform Captain Picard. Thank you.”
Offering a brilliant smile, the Ereban nodded once, then left to return to her
office. The Vulcan watched her go, wondering just how this news was going to be
taken by either her Captain or his partner. She tapped her comm. badge and
requested to be beamed up.
 
David sat in the chair in the living area, as he had done so since very early
that morning, watching silently as his mother restlessly paced like a caged
animal, her hands constantly wringing each other. He had tried to get her to
sit, tried to get her to eat, but although she gave him what she tried to make
a warm smile, it got nowhere near her dull eyes and her brittley bright words
held nothing, no emotion at all. So he sat, his eyes tracking his mother’s
passage around the room not even remembering that this day was his birthday. He
was now seven years old.
Beverly lifted her head and for the umpteenth time said impatiently,
“Computer, is Doctor Selar aboard yet?”
“No.”
Seeing that his mother hand come to a standstill, David rose and went to her,
gently taking her hand. “Come on Maman, come and sit with me, I’ll get you a
cup of tea.”
Beverly looked down at her son as if she hadn’t been aware he was in the room.
“What?” Then she seemed to recognise him and offered the same blank smile. “Oh,
no, sweetie, I’m not thirsty.”
David closed his eyes and tried once more. “Please, Maman...just come and sit
with me.”
Suddenly very angry, Beverly snapped, “I said no! For God’s sake, David! Leave
me be!”
David, his heart breaking, retook his seat and returned to silently watching as
his mother resumed her endless pacing.
 
The Commander of the invisible ship smiled coldly as he studied the image of
the Enterprise E in orbit around Ereban. Snorting softly he said to no one in
particular, “That thing is fucking huge.”
A mildly amused voice behind him agreed. “Oh, yeah. She’s a bloody passenger
liner compared with us.”
The Commander’s eyes narrowed and his smile became predatory. “What do you
think her Captain would say if he knew we could take out his behemoth with one,
judiciously aimed torp...through his shields?”
The other voice chuckled. “I don’t think he’d say too much, he’d be too busy
shitting himself!”
Both men laughed, then the Commander sighed. “With Picard locked up, it’s Riker
in the big chair, isn’t it?”
“Yep.”
“Well, at least he’s all human.”
The unseen man’s voice became hard. “You bet. There’s no fucking Borg nanites
floating around in his body, inert or not.”
The Commander grunted harshly.
“Can you believe that fucker Picard was exonerated after Wolf 359?” The
Commander asked with malice. “If it were left up to me, I would’ve sent him
back to the fucking Borg...after we’d wiped his miserable brain.”
“Hmph!” His companion grunted. “You’re too kind, Sir. I’d have taken the
bastard somewhere quiet and phasered him into nothingness. And that would’ve
been more than he deserved.”
The Commander sighed and scratched his law. “Yeah, well the Director says
unless the Council says otherwise, Picard is a fucking hero. Personally, I find
his current predicament quite appropriate.”
“Oh yeah. I’d just like to be the one to slit his damned throat!”
“Ha! You and me both. Now, my friend, how is our cloak? Everything running
okay?”
“Yes, Sir, I ran a diagnostic only half an hour ago.”
“Good. Wouldn’t do for the fucking huge ship out there to know about us, now
would it?”
“Ah...no. In fact that might prove to be a little embarrassing and very
difficult to explain.”
“Indeed.” The Commander swivelled his chair and patted his stomach. “I’m going
aft to get something to eat. Can I get you anything?”
“No thanks, Sir.”
“Right, well we’ve got intel due in about two hours, keep an eye out for it
will you? I might get some shut eye after I’ve eaten.”
“Will do, Sir. Sleep well.”
“I will,” He said, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. “Especially once
that fucking Picard is stone motherless dead.”
The subordinate laughed cruelly and shook his head.
“Do they have flies down on that fucking ball of mud, Sir?”
The Commander shrugged. “I dunno. Why?”
“’Cause I was just wondering what Picard’s body would look like riddled with
maggots.”
The Commander snorted. “Three things, my young friend. One: sorry, no flies.
Two: those stupid fucking Ereban shits will restore Picard’s body to its
pristine glory to give back to that cold bitch of a partner and Three: I don’t
think even maggots would eat a nanite-infested fucker like Picard. Even they
have standards!”
The older man left the Bridge just his subordinate picked up a PADD. On it was
the last intel from the Council, courtesy of the neighbouring planets. Raising
his head, the young man stared down at Ereban and shook his head.
“You stupid, ignorant fuckers.” He sighed and idly scratched his groin. “You
have absolutely no idea what’s about to happen.” Casting a wary look over his
shoulder to make sure he really was alone, he lifted his legs and placed his
feet on the console in front of him. “Still, I suppose it’s for the greater
good. It’s not as if you’re going to have any say in the matter or be able to
lift a finger to stop it.”
He settled in to wait for the coming transmission.
 
As soon as Selar materialised on the Enterprise, the computer informed Beverly.
Her ceaseless pacing stopped and she slapped her comm. badge hard enough to
bruise the skin under her shirt.
“Crusher to Selar!”
“Selar here, Doctor.”
“I want to see you in my quarters immediately!”
“I cannot come immediately, Doctor, I have something of importance I must see
to, however, once I am free I will come to you.”
Anger spiked in Beverly and she made no attempt to hide it.
“Not good enough, Selar! I’m giving you a direct order. Get to my quarters
now!”
Selar’s calm, emotionless reply only served to make Beverly angrier.
“I am sorry, Doctor Crusher, but as your current status is one of being
relieved of duty, as such you cannot give me an order, direct or not. However,
I will come to you as soon as I have concluded my present duties. Selar out.”
Mouth gaping, her hands fisted at the ends of her stiff arms Beverly’s head
turned from side-to-side until her eyes fell on what she sought. In two quick
strides she snatched up a beautiful crystal vase and raised it above her head.
David shot out of his seat and grabbed her shirt, reaching for her upraised arm
and shouting, “No, Maman! Papa gave that to you, don’t smash it, Maman, please,
don’t...”
She didn’t hear him, she’d didn’t even notice him. With furious force she threw
the vase across the room where it exploded against the wall in a mass of chunks
and shards. When she growled and turned to make her way to the doors, David
tried to stop her.
“Maman, no! You’ve been ordered to stay here, in our quarters. Aunt Deanna
issued the order and if you...”
She hit him so hard across his face he was knocked off his feet and tumbled
sideways to the floor. With his hand covering his bruised cheek, he stared
wide-eyed and uncomprehending as his beloved mother glared down at him with an
expression so fierce he wet himself in terror.
Beverly said nothing; she simply stepped around her son and walked briskly out
the doors.
David had been born on the Enterprise and had spent his entire life aboard, so
he was well versed in shipboard procedures. Climbing unsteadily to his feet, he
lifted his head and said tremulously,
“David Picard to Counsellor Troi.”
Hearing his distress, Deanna concentrated and felt him.
“David, it’s Aunt Deanna. What’s happened?”
“Maman just broke a vase Papa had given her and then, when I tried to stop her
leaving our quarters she...she...” He took a deep breath, doing his best to not
cry, but failing. “She hit me, Aunt Deanna and then she left. I think she’s
trying to find Doctor Selar.”
“Are you all right, David? Are you hurt?”
Tasting blood in his mouth, David wiped at his tears.
“I don’t know...I think so...maybe a little.”
“All right, stay where you are, someone will be with you very soon to bring you
to Sick Bay. I’ll see you there.”
“Okay, Aunt Dee, but...”
“Yes?”
“Help her, Aunt Dee, she needs help.”
“I will, David, Troi out.”
Deanna then tapped her comm. badge.
“Security, this is Counsellor Troi. I want a detail here at my quarters
immediately. Sick Bay, send a Doctor to Captain Picard’s quarters. I believe
his son, David Picard has been injured. Troi out.”
Selar looked at Deanna, her gaze intense. “You believe she is dangerous?”
Her face set in a worried frown, Deanna sighed. “You heard David. His mother
has struck him. Have you ever known either Captain Picard or Doctor Crusher to
ever physically abuse their children?”
“No, I have not and it is certainly atypical behaviour. She will be here soon.
I suggest you let me deal with her.”
Deanna was about to protest when the discussion became moot. Deanna’s black
eyes glittered and she took an involuntary step back. Beverly’s fury reached
her before the woman herself did.
“She’s here.”
The doors parted and Beverly stalked in, her blue eyes blazing with feral
anger. Selar moved to stand in front of Deanna, thus shielding her. The
security team arrived just as Beverly began to shout.
“Your insubordination will not be tolerated, Selar! I am the CMO and you will
obey my orders!” She took a step closer. “And if you refuse, Captain Picard
himself will make sure you’re reassigned to another ship where your fucking
arrogant behaviour won’t affect the fine standards Captain Picard has set!”
Seeing that it would be pointless to try and reason with her, Selar bowed her
head and adopted a quiet, submissive tone.
“I offer my apologies, Doctor. You are correct, of course.”
Narrowing her gaze with suspicion, Beverly lifted her chin and said coldly, “I
was supposed to see Captain Picard today, but the computer says he’s not on the
ship. Where the hell is he?”
Taking a calculated risk, Deanna stepped out from behind Selar and smiled,
earning a hot glare from Beverly, who hissed,
“You! Why did you order me off duty and confined to quarters? What gives you
the right to do that? I want to know what the hell is going on! Where is Jean-
Luc?”
While Beverly had been haranguing Deanna, Selar had been moving surreptitiously
closer to the incensed woman. Beverly’s eyes remained fixed on Deanna. She
chanced a glance at the security detail and Beverly flinched, spinning around.
Selar moved with grace and speed. As Beverly yelled, “What the fuck...?” Selar
delivered a nerve pinch, catching Beverly and lowering her gently to the floor
as consciousness fled.
The Lieutenant leading the security detail stepped into the room, holstering
her phaser.
“Everything okay now, sir?”
Deanna nodded, letting out a long breath. “Yes, thank you, Lieutenant, we can
handle it from here.” She then lifted her head to say firmly, “Transporter
Room, this is Counsellor Troi. Three to beam to Sick Bay from my current
location.”
“Aye, Counsellor. Energising.”
It took mere minutes for Beverly to be placed on a biobed and a restraining
field put in place. Seeing David sitting nearby, Deanna went to him and,
feeling his confusion, bewilderment and fear, she drew up a chair and took him
into her embrace. He resisted as best he could, but the emotions that were
tumbling through him won and he lost control, sobbing with heartbreaking
intensity.
Slowly he calmed and, just like his father would do, attempted to quash his
feelings. Manfully he wiped his face and took the offered tissue silently.
Having restored some of his dignity, he managed to ask,
“What’s happened to Maman?”
Sighing, Deanna glanced over her shoulder at Beverly’s prone form. Turning back
to David she said gently,
“Do you know what a relapse is?”
The boy nodded, but he was frowning. “I think so. Isn’t that when you’re
better, but then you get sick again?”
Smiling, Deanna nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”
David looked over at his mother then back at Deanna. “Is that what’s happened
to Maman? She’s had a relapse?”
“Yes, I think so.” Deanna noticed David was feeling embarrassed and couldn’t
quite reconcile his feelings with what he now knew. Very gently, Deanna took
David’s hands and looked into his troubled eyes. “What is it, David?”
He bowed his head and sighed. He’d known Deanna all his life and knew his
parents not only enjoyed a deep friendship with her, but trusted her
implicitly. Added to that David’s own love for his Aunt, he decided to make the
most humiliation admission of his short life. Barely whispering, he said, “I
wet my pants.”
Treating the admission with the gravity it deserved, Deanna tightened her grip
on his hands. “David that can happen to anyone, even adults given the right
circumstances.”
He looked up, stricken. “But I’m seven now and it was Maman! I know she didn’t
mean it.”
Somehow Deanna had to make David see that his reaction to shock and fear had
been absolutely normal without referring to the fact that although he thought
of himself as ‘grown up’ he was still but a child. “David, if I tell you
something really private about your Papa, will you promise me never to repeat
it? Not to anyone?”
He nodded solemnly, whispering, “I promise.”
“You know that your Papa was assimilated by the Borg.” David nodded, but Deanna
knew he didn’t really understand. When he had started school, his parents had
decided to tell him, only so if it ever came up either as teasing by other
students or even in the school curriculum, he would already know. Jean-Luc and
Beverly had always intended to give him more detailed information as he grew
older. For now, he had nothing but a vague impression that whatever it was, it
was very bad.
“Well,” Said Deanna. “It took a very long time for your Papa to get better
after that and even now he still has the occasional nightmare about it. But
what I think is important for you to know is that when he was getting better,
in the early stages, he would get so frightened he sometimes wet the bed.”
David gaped, his eyes wide. “Papa? Papa wet the bed? But he’s a grown up.”
“Yes and that’s my point, David. It can happen to anyone, grown up or a child,
even someone as brave as your Papa.”
After a few moments. David’s gaze left Deanna and drifted to his mother. “Can
you make Maman better?”
“Yes,” Smiled Deanna. “I think I can.”
David nodded, but his expression was unreadable, just like his father. “And she
won’t...relapse?”
That made Deanna sigh and lower her head. “I can’t guarantee that, David. It
might happen, it might not.”
His hand came up involuntarily to his cheek making Deanna ask, “Are you better
now, David? Were you badly hurt?”
Still gazing at his mother, David shook his head, his voice small. “No, I
wasn’t badly hurt, just a cut inside my mouth, some teeth loosened and a bruise
on my cheek. I’m better now.”
Yes, thought Deanna. You’ve had your physical injuries healed, but what about
your psychological ones?
To that end, Deanna squeezed David’s hands to gain his attention. “She didn’t
mean it, David. I know your Maman just as well as you do and you and I both
know there’s no way she would ever use physical violence against you.”
His dark eyes glittered with welling tears. “Then why?”
“Remember when she retreated? To that safe place in her mind?”
He nodded silently.
“Well, your Maman is feeling very frightened right now and she can’t find that
safe place, so she’s feeling scared and very confused. Although she loves you
with all her heart, right now all she wants to do is be with your Papa. Now
that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to be with you, David, it’s just that
although she might not admit it, she knows what your Papa is facing and
wants...no...needs to be with him. Doctor Selar had told your Maman that you
could both go down to the planet to see him today, but somehow, probably
overnight while she slept, things got muddled up in her mind so that when she
woke up, she’d forgotten what had happened.”
David frowned, lifting his hands to give form to his words. “But Aunt Deanna
what about Monique and the baby? Has she forgotten them too?”
Lifting her head to stare at the ceiling, Deanna considered the question.
“Try to think of it this way. When your Maman couldn’t find her safe place, she
went half way. She is in what we call an altered state. Until I can talk to
her, I can’t be sure exactly where she is, but it seems certain that it’s at a
time before she had you or Monique or was pregnant. That’s why it’s so
important for her to get to your Papa. He occupies all of her mind right now.”
With a sigh so deep it raised and lowered his shoulders, David showed great
maturity by observing, “She doesn’t know I exist.”
“Not right now, no. But she will, David, don’t worry.”
Mumbling, Deanna had to ask him to repeat himself.
“I said, that’s why she hit me. She didn’t even know who I was.”
There was little Deanna could say to that, so she encouraged him to his feet
and led him, albeit reluctantly, over to his mother. Speaking softly, Deanna
said, “She’ll be waking up soon, and there’s a chance she might be back. Just
as she became muddled last night, this sleep might help her to regain herself.
Be here, David, when she wakes up. You just might be exactly what she needs to
see.”
He nodded and sat in the chair Deanna got for him. Giving his shoulder a
squeeze, the Counsellor said, “I have to go and talk with Doctor Selar now.
I’ll come back later.”
He nodded, but Deanna felt his unease. It was with some regret that she left
him and joined Selar in Beverly’s office.
 
The Ensign at Tactical hadn’t much experience on the Bridge, or indeed manning
the tactical station, but he’d been well trained and when, for the fifth time
he noticed the small anomaly he knew he had to say something. Mustering a
steady voice he said,
“Commander Riker? Could you come here, please sir?”
Rising from the Command chair, a less than genial Exec joined the nervous young
man. The Ensign’s nervousness increased when Will said sourly, “What is it?”
Pointing at his screen and trying to keep his finger from twitching, the Ensign
said, “I think that is a subspace interphase pocket, sir.”
Squinting, Will’s law muscles clenched. “How is that possible, Ensign?”
Swallowing, the young man replied, “I don’t know, sir, but I’ve seen the spike
five times in the last hour and I know that can’t be right.”
Will studied the readouts and grunted. “Well done, Ensign.” He muttered
absently before raising his head and calling, “Riker to LaForge.”
“LaForge, here.”
“Come up to the Bridge will you Geordi, there’s something here I think you
should see.”
“On my way, Sir. LaForge out.”
Regaining his seat, Will glared at the planet below. “Now what?”
 
With his Captain held on the planet, facing a very uncertain future, almost all
of the Enterprise’s crew were depressed, none more so than the senior staff.
For many years, before Jean-Luc and Beverly had finally become a couple, the
only members of his crew that Jean-Luc would allow to get close to him were his
senior staff and, over the years they had become his closest friends, but even
then he kept a certain distance between them and himself. It was only after he
and Beverly had become lovers that he slowly began to allow his friends to get
closer, to take a greater part in his private life and so given the current
situation, it was little wonder feelings of frustration and anger permeated the
ship.
Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge was one of the couple’s close friends and
felt the frustration of not being able to use any of his extensive skills as
the ship’s Chief Engineer to help his Captain. It was with some relief that he
entered the Bridge, glad to have something to take his mind off his depressing
thoughts.
Looking over his shoulder, Will gestured to the Tactical station with his
bearded chin.
“The Ensign has something to show you, Geordi. See what you can make of it.”
Offering a small smile at the obviously nervous young man, Geordi moved to his
side and peered down at the console, his blue ocular implants adjusting for
clarity of vision.
“So, what have we got?”
“Um...I think...Sir...a subspace interphase pocket.”
Geordi’s eyebrows rose in genuine interest. “Really?” He tapped a few commands
and silently absorbed the displayed information, muttering quietly, “Well, I’ll
be damned.”
Will, having heard Geordi’s soft exclamation, rose from his chair and made his
way to the station. “What?”
Shrugging and scratching the side of his head, Geordi raised his eyebrows. “The
Ensign is right. That...” He pointed to the readout. “Indicates a subspace
interphase pocket...and it’s nearby.”
Trying to curb his impatience, Will took a deep breath and let it our slowly.
“Okay, what exactly is a subspace interphase pocket?”
Geordi gestured to the Ensign, giving him tacit approval to answer the Exec’s
question. The nervous young man ordered his thoughts and took a steadying
breath. “It’s a relatively newly discovered phenomenon, Commander, we’ve only
known about it for about eight months. It’s when a pocket of subspace
intrudes...or bulges, if you like, into normal space.”
Raising his eyebrows, Will pulled down the corners of his mouth. “Dangerous?”
The young man shrugged, then panicked when he thought such a gesture was
probably inappropriate, but neither of the senior officers seemed to notice.
“We don’t actually know, sir.”
That made Will scowl. “So I take it we don’t know what causes it?”
“No, Sir, but...”
It was Geordi who said with gentle encouragement,
“It’s okay, Ensign, you’re doing fine. If you know something, spit it out.”
“Well, sirs, the most up-to-date theory is that it could be caused by using the
latest generation of cloaks.”
Folding his arms over his barrelled chest, Will narrowed his eyes and asked
quietly, “And you know this how?”
Blushing, the young man shifted his feet. “I was part of the team who installed
the upgrades to the Enterprise’s senor arrays and, as part of that team we were
instructed in the capabilities of the arrays as they now are.”
“Okay,” Said Will, “So what are you doing on the ship? Why aren’t you still at
McKinley Station?”
Glancing at Geordi and gaining courage from his smile, the Ensign began to calm
down. “I want to be an Engineer, sir, but really the only way I could advance
is to either get on board a ship like the Enterprise, or get myself posted to
the Utopia Planitia ship yards, but the wait for rotation to the Yards is huge,
so...”
Will’s voice showed just a trace of humour when he observed wryly, “It’s just
as hard to get on the Enterprise, Ensign. We only take the best.”
His blush deepening, the Ensign nodded. “I know, Commander, but while the ship
was at McKinley, I found out a position was available for an Engineering tech.
I applied and somehow, I got accepted, but honestly, sir, I don’t know how.”
Geordi’s voice was laced with sadness as he said, “It was Captain Picard,
Ensign. He saw your application and brought it to my attention. I saw how good
you were at what you do and that, coupled with your very good recommendations
from your team leaders, well, let’s just say the Captain was happy to have
you.”
Bringing the discussion back on track, Will pointed at the console. “So, what’s
causing it? Could there be a cloaked ship hovering close by?”
Geordi sighed, muttering, “I wish Data was still with us. He’d have this
figured out in minutes...if not sooner.”
Placing a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, Will commiserated. “I know,
Geordi, we all miss him, but he’s not here any more and we’re just going to
have to figure this out on our own.”
The big First Officer looked at the Ensign with warmth. “Ensign?”
The young man smiled. “Wilkerson, sir, Keith Wilkerson.”
“Right, Keith. You are now relieved from tactical. Please assist Commander
LaForge in finding out just what that is.”
With one final glare at the console, Will went back to the Command chair,
musing darkly to himself, “As if we don’t have enough on our plate! Fuck! Now
we have to consider the likelihood of a cloaked fucking ship. Great!”
He glared at the planet and tried to let the low murmurings of Geordi and Keith
calm him down.
 
“So,” Deanna said, slumped in her chair. “You can see how this whole thing is
nothing but some kind of giant...conspiracy.”
Selar was also seated. However, unlike Deanna’s defeated slump, her posture was
perfect.
“Is there any way anything of what you have told me can be verified?” The
Vulcan said with a tilt of her head.
Deanna shrugged. “I don’t see how. On the face of it this mission was
ostensibly to assess Ereban as a potential member of the Federation. How
everything else fits in...” She shrugged again. “I’ve no idea.”
Selar’s voice was unemotional, as usual, but Deanna knew her well enough to
pick up the nuances of her speech and she clearly heard anxiousness. “We must
do something, Counsellor. Unless we can uncover the conspiracy, Captain Picard
will die a needless death.”
Sighing and trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice, Deanna grimaced.
“I know, but how? Look, Selar, this involves the very heart of the Federation.
The Council itself is implicated and as for Section 31...” She shook her head
with anger. “We’re not even supposed to know it exists! How the hell can we
prove the involvement of something that to all intents and purposes no one
knows about? Certainly no one on the Council, the Federation President or even
Starfleet Command is going to admit it! That would implicate all of them!”
Frowning, Selar lowered her eyes to stare at her hands. “I do not understand
what the ulterior motive is. What could possibly be gained from admitting a
clearly unsuitable world into the Federation? And the changes, the genetic
shifts; how does that fit with what the Captain knows?”
“He doesn’t know.” Deanna plexed, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Like I
told you, he never made contact with the covert operative within the Ereban
government.”
“But was it an operative? From what you said, I gained the impression it was
more like a group of Ereban citizens who were working towards uncovering
something...hidden.”
Deanna sighed and pushed her fingers into her eyes. “Does it matter? The point
is he didn’t make contact and in the interim disaster struck.”
Sitting forward in an uncharacteristic display of eagerness, Selar’s gaze was
piercing. “Yes, Counsellor, but we know now that the...disaster...of which you
speak was most probably orchestrated by someone, or more than one, with a very
different agenda to the one the Captain thought he was dealing with. Advocate
Jeran said as much herself. Those involved had enough technological assistance
to access the sub archive remotely, apparently over and above the level of
technology the Ereban current employ.”
Looking up at her companion, Deanna’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re suggesting
there’s more than Section 31 interfering?”
“Perhaps. Have you considered the Ereban themselves might be in conflict,
albeit covertly?”
“Conflict?” Said a confused Counsellor. “Do you mean lurin against ‘normal’
Ereban?”
“No, not necessarily. It may not be as simple as that. The Captain mentioned
the warring neighbouring planets and their intent to conquer Ereban by inducing
genetic change through the lurin, but what if there was more to it than that?”
Seeing Deanna’s intense gaze, Selar tilted her head in deep thought. “The
Typhon Pact is ready for war, the Captain himself knows this, but to what end?
All out war with the Federation, or something more subtle? And the Federation.
They too are aware of the inevitable conflict that is brewing with the Typhon
Pact. So what is at stake here? The quadrant...or one planet?”
Unable to sit any longer, Deanna got up and began to pace. “What are you
saying, Selar?”
“What do you know of Eugenics?”
Deanna shrugged. “It was an attempt to create super...” She gasped, her hand
going to her mouth. “You don’t think...”
With a one shoulder shrug, Selar sighed. “Why not? We know that human DNA is
present in all three species in this system.”
“But the Captain theorised that was because Khan Noonien Singh’s sleeper ship
must have somehow ended up here and he and his followers interbred with the
local species.”
Bowing her head, Selar agreed. “Yes, Counsellor, but I must wonder if that was
a random act or a deliberate one?” Before Deanna could protest, Selar held up
her hand. “Think about it, Counsellor. What if, at the end of the Eugenics war,
Khan and his followers were somehow programmed, perhaps by an embryonic Section
31 or a forerunner, and were meant to breed with a predetermined type of alien
species? One perhaps strong and intelligent? Or, on the other hand, perhaps
Khan’s involvement in this system was completely random, but on discovering
what had occurred much later, centuries in fact, the Council chose to take
advantage of it? You must admit, once the lurin are the dominant example of the
species, the population of Ereban is going to explode. Lurin breed
indiscriminately, they are not bound by the normal strictures of Ereban customs
or physical impediments of slow reproduction.”
Deanna couldn’t process what was being suggested. “Are you saying the
Federation is deliberately breeding a soldier species?”
Again, Selar shrugged. “If the Federation is facing war with the Typhon Pact,
then it would be advantageous to have a ready supply of individuals to fight
with, would it not? The ancient Earth term was, I believe, ‘cannon fodder’.”
Still pacing, Deanna’s hands became restless. “All right, let’s for the moment
say you’re right. Why then would there be factions within Ereban society at war
with each other?”
“Because I believe there are those who have realised what is happening and wish
to take responsibility for their own destiny. Be their own masters, as it were.
They may not be able to stop what is happening to them, and certainly in human
terms, they won’t see change in their life time, but I feel they wish the
Ereban, whatever that eventually means, to be autonomous and not slaves to
anyone, especially not those responsible for their forced false evolutionary
changes.”
Danna’s face paled. “But if that’s the case, then we can’t do anything about
it!”
Selar merely bowed her head. Deanna gasped. “And what of Captain Picard?”
“It is regrettable; Counsellor, but I cannot see how we or anyone else can help
him. Things have progressed too far. He is but a casualty of an undeclared war.
In all likelihood, he was doomed before he even set foot on the planet. You
know the kind of man he is and so does the Council. They needed to seem, at
least on the surface, to be doing the normal, benevolent thing they always did
and sent the best man for the job, knowing full well he could not in good
conscience give an positive assessment of Ereban. With him out of the way, and
seemingly without any interference from the Council, they are now free to send
someone who is more aligned with their plans.”
“My God!”
“Indeed.”
 
The crewman on the hidden ship had been dozing. His Commander hadn’t returned
from his meal and with nothing much to do, the man became bored and decided to
take some time to catch up on some much-needed sleep. It was a quiet beeping
that roused him, blinking and grumbling sourly under his breath.
“What the fuck?”
One look at his console had him scrambling upright in his seat and urgently
summoning his Commander. The older man came quickly, irritated at being
disturbed. “This better be good!” He barked.
Pointing at his console, the younger man gritted his teeth. “They’re on to us!”
Being more experienced, the Commander wasn’t so easily panicked. “Have they
made any move? Given any indication that they know exactly what it is they’ve
found?”
Glancing through the viewscreen at the image of the Enterprise, the seated man
shook his head. “No, but they’ve detected the subspace interphase pocket.”
The Commander shrugged. “So? As far as they know, it could be anything!” He
glowered down at his subordinate. “Jesus, they’ve only known about SIPs for a
year at most, and only a few ships have the means to detect them! Okay, they
might have detected ours, but there’s no fucking way they know what it is
they’ve actually discovered.”
Taking a steadying breath, the younger man swallowed.
“Okay, sir, so what do we do?”
“What do we do? Nothing! Until they show us they know we’re here, ignore them!
They’re bumbling around in the fucking dark!”
He turned to leave the cockpit, but hesitated and snarled, “And don’t be such a
lily-livered shit stirrer. Make sure you know what the fuck you’re doing before
you bother me!”
As the Commander left, the crewman turned to glare out into space, his hatred
and anger directed towards the Enterprise.
 
It had been some days since Jeran and Absum had met and much had transpired.
Absum was now sure Jeran was lurin, but where once that information would’ve
disgusted and alarmed the Doctor, she now accepted the Advocate’s difference
with equanimity.
They had met at Jeran’s request and by the seclusion of the venue, Absum was
confidently sure that the Advocate had important news. She smiled to herself as
she also had something stunning to tell her legal colleague.
In a park on the eastern fringe of the capital, the two females walked, heads
bowed in deep conversation. It was Jeran who was speaking and although her
voice was soft, her tone was urgent.
“I haven’t got to the bottom of this yet, Doctor, but my...enquiries... have
led to some very disturbing information.” She halted, bringing her companion to
a stop as well. Casting a thorough look around to make sure, yet again, that
they were alone, Jeran looked Absum in the eyes and said, “You know what I am.”
Absum nodded, making sure nothing but calm acceptance showed in her eyes.
Grateful, Jeran offered a small bow and a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you,
Doctor; I wasn’t sure how you would...”
Shaking her head, Absum smiled sadly. “I have been blind far too long, Jeran
and what I’ve witnessed recently has not only opened my eyes fully, but changed
my perceptions of who and what I am...and who and what we, as Ereban are going
to become. But what I don’t know is why?”
Gently taking Absum’s elbow, Jeran started them walking again. “I’ve learned
several incredible things. Absum. I now know that these...changes...the
development of lurin has been at the hands of outside influences. Someone, and
as yet I don’t know who, has deliberately...seeded...our atmosphere with
microscopic genetic messages. This was done some time ago, at least one
generation before the first lurin was ever discovered, perhaps even earlier
than that, I don’t know, but there can be no doubt. It was a deliberate act!”
Absum nodded, her face grim. “I know. Two nights ago I dissected the most
extraordinary being I’ve ever seen. Outwardly it looked like a normal Ereban,
but it wasn’t! It was definitely male, but its interior structures, its organs
were subtly different as if it had once been very different, but was in the
process of becoming like us.”
Tilting her head, Jeran narrowed her eyes. “Surgical alteration?”
Absum shook her head. “No, definitely not.” She said firmly. “No, this being
was close, Jeran, almost, but not quite Ereban.”
Jeran didn’t want to ask the next question, but she simply had to. “Lurin?”
Absum shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know. It certainly wasn’t like any lurin
I’ve ever seen, but perhaps...”
Arching one pale eyebrow, Jeran said softly, “Perhaps?”
Again shrugging, Absum sighed deeply. “Jeran, we’re talking about what’s to
come. I can’t discard the possibility that I may have been seeing a version of
our future selves and that of course means lurin.”
“But how?” Asked an obviously confused Jeran. “How is it possible you saw such
an evolved specimen...if that is indeed what it was?”
Absum rubbed her brow, she’d been thinking about this so hard it was beginning
to make her head sore. “Jeran, what I’m about to say may sound...irrational,
but it is the only plausible thing I can come up with.”
“Go on.”
“What if the being I dissected wasn’t what we’re to become, but one of those
who were responsible for what’s happening?”
Jeran lifted her head and again scanned the area with her sharp gaze while
giving the question considerable thought. “You are aware of what you’re
suggesting? If you’re right, then we have, walking among us...aliens who look,
at least on the outside, just like us.” Raising her hand, the Advocate pinched
her lower lip. “So, if it’s true, what is their purpose?” Tilting her head,
Jeran asked quietly, “Was it genetically compatible? Could it breed with us?”
Absum’s face showed her answer before she vocalised it. “Yes, most definitely.”
As Absum stood still, Jeran walked in a slow circle around her. “So what do we
have? On the one hand we have Ereban like me...lurin...created for some as yet
unknown purpose and now it seems there is further interference through what?
Alien interbreeding? Why?”
Absum chose her next words very carefully. “While I don’t know the answers to
those questions, don’t you think it interesting...convenient even, that we
discover the presence of an alien at the same time our government makes a
petition to join the Federation? We have Starship in orbit and its Captain
awaiting trial for a capital offence. I don’t know about you, Jeran, but I was
vehemently against the governments’ overtures to the Federation and now that
they’re here, look what’s happened. An explosion in the number of lurin, Ereban
exhibiting what could only be described as deviant behaviour and now we know
about clandestine groups and aliens among us. There has to be a connection!”
Snapping her fingers, Jeran hissed, “Acceleration!”
Narrowing her eyes, Absum said warily, “What?”
Again taking her elbow, both females resumed walking. “Whatever is going on,
for some reason it’s being accelerated...brought forward. Obviously things were
moving too slowly.” She scratched her hair and grimaced. “What we have to find
out is what it is they need us for. Why have they changed us and why do they
now need those changes to accelerate?”
Sighing, Absum shrugged. “I’m not sure I’m in a position to find those
answers.”
That made Jeran snort with wry amusement. “Absum, my friend, only a few weeks
ago, I was a spectacularly unsuccessful Advocate, and you were content to be a
visiting Doctor at the State mental institution, doing a small, but interesting
amount of research in your spare time. Now look at us! Meeting in secret to
discuss the ramifications of a plot most probably instigated by those who were
duty bound to protect us! Neither of us are equipped to answer any of our
questions, but answer them we must! It will put us...our families...our bond
mates in grave danger. In fact...” Absum sighed deeply, making Jeran move
closer. “Absum? What is it?”
Smiling sadly, the Doctor’s eyes glittered with tears. “They already have my
bond mate.”
Jeran gasped. “By the All Seeing One! Why did you agree to this meeting?”
Shrugging with fatalism, Absum shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, does it? If
they so wish, they will kill him no matter what I do. I might as well try to
find out why he died...what he died for. At least, even if it means my own
death, I will die knowing why.”
Her years as an Advocate had inured Jeran somewhat to sentimentality, but she
couldn’t help but feel desperately sorry for Absum. Gathering her thoughts and
courage, Jeran took Absum’s elbow and squeezed it. The spark of defiance
growing.
“What sort of contacts do you have?”
Shrugging again, Absum pulled down the corners of her mouth. “Not many, but
those I have are well placed.”
Jeran smiled coldly. “Mine too. Look, I’m not suggesting we can solve this on
our own, but I think together we might be able to make the right people aware
of what we know. Maybe it’ll be enough to start something.”
“Something? That’s a little vague, isn’t it?”
The Advocate chuckled and shook her head. “Yes it is, and it’s mainly because I
have absolutely no idea how to start a revolution, my dear Doctor, but if
that’s what it takes to protect Ereban, then that’s what has to happen.”
Absum gaped, then swallowed, suddenly feeling nauseous. “A revolution? And you
think we can do that?”
“Well, it has to start somewhere.”
“But we don’t even know for sure...”
Leaning close until their faces were almost touching, Jeran said with deadly
intent, “Then we must find out!”
Looking about again, the Advocate put some distance between them and said
mildly, “We should go our separate ways now, Doctor. I’ll be in touch.”
Absum, still stunned, watched silently as Jeran walked briskly away. It wasn’t
until Absum had reached her ground vehicle on the opposite side of the park
that she saw a male sitting in it. With her mouth suddenly dry she got in and
stared straight ahead as the male said quietly, “I think we should have a chat
about who you should be talking too, Doctor.”
As a physician, Absum knew Ereban could not die of heart failure, but her heart
began to beat so fast she wondered if she just might be the first.
David knew his mother was regaining consciousness. She took a deep breath and
smiled, but just as quickly as the smile had emerged, it vanished to be
replaced with a grimace. Her eyes opened then and she sought her son, who’d
been sitting on her bed, holding her hand. The restraining field had been
removed.
“Hello, Maman, how do you feel?”
Sitting up, Beverly put her free hand over her shoulder and rotated her head.
Her frown was a deep one and her tone angry.
“A nerve pinch.” Lifting her head, she called,
“Doctor Selar, this is Doctor Crusher. I would like to see you. Now.”
There was no reply, further angering Beverly, but Selar’s appearance at her
bedside mollified Beverly somewhat. “You’ve given me a nerve pinch. Why?”
With typical Vulcan emotionless delivery, Selar said quietly, “You were
irrational, Doctor and considered a danger to yourself and those around you.”
“Nonsense!” Beverly spat. “How could you make such a fatuous claim?!”
Calmly, Selar said, “You struck your son, Doctor.”
Beverly gaped, her eyes travelling to David who had lowered his head. “What? I
hit my son?”
Gently lifting his chin, he kept his gaze lowered. Beverly’s voice clearly
carried her distress. “David? Is it true? Did I hit you?”
All he could do was nod, but in a small voice he said, “It wasn’t your fault,
Maman. You couldn’t find a safe place and you got confused.”
Before Beverly could say anything further, Selar asked, “What do you remember,
Doctor Crusher?”
“Remember?” Her eyes narrowed. “About what?”
Deanna, having sensed the strong, turbulent emotion surging through her best
friend, arrived at the bed and said, “Where is Monique right now?”
As soon as Deanna saw Beverly’s eyes fill with tears she knew the Doctor
remembered her four year old daughter was dead. Now she had to ask if Beverly
remembered anything of her recent delusional behaviour.
“Do you remember hitting David?”
Mouth ajar, Beverly was shaking her head when she suddenly gasped and brought
her hand to cover her mouth.
“No! Oh, my God, no!” Turning to her son, she wrapped him in her arms, sobbing,
“Oh, David...I’m so sorry...so very sorry!”
It took some time for Beverly to calm and it was David who helped her to regain
her composure. While she sobbed he talked to her softly and in French. When she
was finally able to look him in the eye, she smiled tenderly and gently stroked
his hair.
“So like your Papa.”
Selar moved a little closer and said quietly, “Would you both like to transport
down to the planet to see Captain Picard?”
Beverly’s lower lip trembled, but she managed to say in a very small voice,
“Yes. We would.” David merely nodded. Only Deanna knew he was so frightened he
didn’t really want to go.
“I will contact the medical facility and arrange a time.”
Nodding her thanks to the Vulcan, Beverly looked at her son and smiled. “It’ll
be good to see Papa, won’t it.”
Again, all David did was nod, his head lowered. Deanna stepped closer and
gently took his arm, saying to Beverly, “I just want to have a chat with David.
He’ll be back soon.”
Beverly was annoyed, she’d yet to find out if she’d hurt her son, certainly she
knew she’d hurt him emotionally and wanted time to try and heal the damage
she’d caused. She couldn’t do that if the boy was off with Deanna, but she had
no option but to agree. Besides she thought it most likely their ‘chat’ would
be about what she’d done anyway. She was wrong.
Ushering David into the Sick Bay Observation lounge, Deanna sat them together
and said quietly, “Why are you so frightened about seeing your father?”
At first David, keeping his head lowered just shrugged, but it was a token show
of resistance. He knew his Aunt wouldn’t let the matter rest until she had a
satisfactory answer.
“I just don’t want to see him. Not down there.”
“Why?”
He became very angry. His hold on his emotions was tenuous and he felt tears
threatening, but the last thing he wanted to do right then was cry. So instead
he shot to his feet, fisted his hands and beat them on the tabletop, shouting,
“Because I said so!”
Deanna, calm as always simply waited. David began to stalk around the room,
shoving chairs out of his way and kicking anything within reach. When the storm
finally abated, he collapsed to the floor, curled up in a ball and wept,
quietly and forlornly.
Deanna went to him, sat and gathered him into her arms. “It’s all right to be
frightened, David, you know that. But why don’t you want to see your father?”
Barely audible, he said through hiccupping breaths, “I don’t want to see him in
that place. The skin on his face is all disgusting and he has to wear clothes
that don’t fit and the people in that place want to kill him and there’s
nothing I can do! I can’t help him and I can’t stop them! And they killed
Monique and the baby and everything is gone. I want it back like it was, Aunt
Deanna, why can’t I make it all go back the way it was? We were so happy. If
they kill Papa, no one will ever be happy again...not ever.”
Struck by the prophetic nature of David’s heartbreaking words, Deanna was
speechless. All she could do was hold the poor boy and rock him.
 
Beverly and David waited outside while Selar washed, shaved and assisted in
redressing her captain. It was only through her Vulcan stoicism that allowed
her to show no emotion as she exited the cell and gestured for mother and son
to enter.
As soon as they did, Selar said to the guard, “I wish to speak with the
Administrator.”
“I will advise Administrator Cerran of your request. Please wait.”
Nodding her acceptance, Selar watched as the guard summoned another to take her
place while she went to deliver the request.
Jean-Luc was seated on the bench not knowing quite what to do. He wanted to hug
his wife and son, he wanted to weep and shout out the injustice of his
situation, he wanted to take their faces in his hands and kiss them with all
the tenderness he could summon, but he did none of these things. He just sat,
staring up at them while they, just as confused and paralysed, stood inside the
closed metal door.
It was Jean-Luc who broke the impasse by saying something so inane it made both
Beverly and David laugh.
“I’m sorry I can’t offer you any refreshments.”
Their laughter caused Jean-Luc to begin to laugh too, but all three quickly
descended into chocking sobs. Taking their places, one each side of him, they
gathered in each other’s arms and wept brokenheartedly.
It was some minutes before Jean-Luc lifted his head and said, not bothering to
even try to stop crying, “I’m so sorry.”
Lifting her head from his shoulder, Beverly hiccupped, “You don’t...you don’t
have to...Jean-Luc...don’t...please...don’t...”
He held her tighter, aware that David too was hugging him fiercely. “I must,
Beverly. My oath compels me to...”
Wrenching free of her partner, Beverly shouted, “I don’t care about your
fucking oath! We never married, we didn’t need to, so we never proclaimed our
promises, our vows to anyone but to each other! What about those vows, Jean-
Luc? Do they mean nothing? Are you saying your oath to Starfleet is more
important than your vows spoken to me?”
His head bowed, Jean-Luc’s voice was low and rough with emotion. “You know
that’s not true!”
“Then why are you doing this? Aren’t David and I more important to you than any
fucking oath you gave as a seventeen year old?”
He looked up, his eyes showing his anger. “Do you not know me at all? Beverly,
you know I love you...” He brought David even closer to him. “...and David more
than my own life, but I’ve spent my life, at least my entire adult life living
it with integrity, honour and honesty. Isn’t that the man you know and love?”
“Yes! But...”
He held up his free hand. “Then what would it make me if I chose to throw away
all that I have been, all that I have striven to convey and inspire in others
just to preserve my life? I would be a hypocrite! I cannot put forth personal
reasons as motive for violating my oath. Beverly...” He let go of David and
rose to take his partner’s hands. “The plain fact is I broke Ereban law and I
must face the consequences of that. I don’t want to die! My God...” He
momentarily lost the ability to speak. Several long seconds passed before he
said brokenly, “I want nothing more than to live out the rest of my days with
you and David, but fate has dictated otherwise.”
“I can’t go on without you, Jean-Luc.” Beverly whispered, tears streaming down
her face.
“You must, my love. David needs you and you need him.” He led her back to the
bench. “After I’m...afterwards, leave Starfleet, Beverly...I want you to...”
She frowned, confused. “Leave Starfleet?”
“Yes!” Jean-Luc said vehemently. “Beverly, my love, Starfleet, Command, the
Federation Council...it’s not all that it seems. Things...things I can’t tell
you about have been happening...are still happening and once you get wind of it
you’re not going to want to stay. In fact no one with any conscience or
integrity is going to stay, believe me. Will, Deanna, Selar...I’ve no doubt
they’ll resign. Walk away, Beverly, walk away and don’t look back!”
“But where should we go? The chateau?”
Jean-Luc frowned and rubbed his fingers over his lower lip, something he could
now do again. “Perhaps Earth might not be the best place. Caldos maybe?”
“What is it you can’t tell me, Jean-Luc? What the hell’s going on?”
“I can’t tell you, Beverly, it would put you in danger. Once the...execution
has taken place, retrieve my remains and get back to Earth ASAP. Have me
cremated along with Charlotte and our little girl and inter us in my family’s
plot at the chateau. Then you and David leave!”
“Jean-Luc...” Beverly was barely able to even whisper. “I don’t think I can do
it...”
He squeezed her hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “You must, Beverly, mon
coeur. Think of it as my dying wish. You can’t refuse.”
Her mouth slightly ajar and tears running freely down her face, all Beverly
could do was nod. Jean-Luc let go of Beverly’s hands and turned to his son. He
picked the unprotesting boy up and placed him on his lap. “David, my sweet
son...I know you don’t understand why I’m doing this, I can only hope that with
time you will come to terms with my decision. It is my hope, that with your
mother’s help, you will learn more about me and in doing so realise that
sometimes there are situations when the greater good must take precedence over
personal concerns. In any event, I can only hope you can find it in yourself to
forgive me for what you must feel is my betrayal. But for now I beseech you,
take care of your Maman. In the coming days, weeks and months she is going to
need you. Help her to move forwards, make a new life for yourselves and my dear
son, live your life to the full! Be the good man I know you will grow to be!”
Jean-Luc took his son’s face in his hands and kissed first his brow, then each
cheek, then gently on his lips. He then turned to Beverly and embraced the
quietly weeping woman.
“Never forget how much I loved you, my sweet Beverly. Our time together has
been the happiest of my life and if I can, I will watch over you...both of you.
Our love is eternal, it will not cease with my death.”
He released her then and stood. “You must go now and not return until you’re
required. At that time, be brave and say nothing. All you need to know is that
my last thoughts will be of you both. I love you.”
Mutely, Beverly stood and took David’s hand. They left in a daze, shocked and
already grief-stricken.
Administer Cerran smiled down at Selar, offering the Vulcan a seat at her desk.
Selar declined with a respectful bow. “I will not take much of your time,
Administrator. I am here to state officially that Captain Picard has recovered
from the nematode infestation.”
The large tan woman’s face fell. “Oh. I see. Well, thank you, Doctor Selar, I
will inform the relevant authorities.”
“May I enquire,” said Selar. “When will the trial begin?”
“Well now that patient...sorry, Captain Picard, has been deemed fit and well,
probably as soon as tomorrow.”
Bowing her head, Selar turned to leave but faltered ever-so-slightly as Cerran
muttered, “I’ll have to collect the biological samples from him. I take it his
seed with survive in stasis?”
“Yes.” Selar answered flatly.
“Good. It would be a pity if our...efforts to afford him this...privilege
failed because of insufficient technology.”
Selar left without acknowledging the remark.
 
The message that summoned Jeran to the ‘meeting’ had been so subtly embedded in
her usual comm. traffic she’d only just found it. She had been instructed to
come alone, but she had told Murr too much already, she knew he’d been
compromised so, feeling if she was to be eliminated, at least they would die
together, Murr had insisted on accompanying her.
The home was on the outskirts of the city, in one of the new ‘satellite’
suburbs that were springing up to accommodate the sudden upsurge in the Ereban
population. During their drive through this new area, Jeran counted fifteen
newly opened pleasure centres. And they were large complexes, easily able to
service many groups at once. Her unease grew as they entered a sparsely
populated area and drew up outside a stylish and obviously new home. It was
dark, the street lighting not yet installed. No one saw the group of five
enter.
The window coverings had been drawn and the lighting was soft. The interior of
the house was unfurnished with the exception of a large, long conference-type
table. Jeran came to a halt as Absum caught her eye and sent a frightened
smile. Sitting next to the doctor was a male she had only seen once and then as
a holoimage. It was Absum’s bond mate, Gerron. The four, Absum, Gerron, Jeran
and Murr nodded to each other as the advocate and her mate took their seats.
The others, including the three who had arrived in the same ground vehicle as
Jeran and Murr exchanged quiet greetings, but it was soon obvious the male at
the head of the table was the leader.
He focused his attention on the four and offered a tight smile.
“You will not be told our names, it is not necessary for you to know and in the
long run, it may save your lives if you remain ignorant of some information.”
With typical advocate chutzpah, Jeran swallowed her fear to ask boldly, “What
are we doing here? Who are you?”
The male’s smile grew, but his pale gold eyes were cold. “As to who we are, you
know that already, Advocate. We are patriots and by extension, so are you. And
that is why you’re here.”
Absum shook her head, her face creased in a frown. “That doesn’t answer the
question.”
The male sighed. “You...” he gestured to all four, but his eyes flicked between
Jeran and Absum, “...have been asking questions...digging in places you really
shouldn’t have and generally sticking your noses where they don’t belong. Now
that in itself isn’t too bad, in fact we commend you, if more true Ereban
started to ask the questions they should, perhaps what we plan wouldn’t be so
very necessary.”
“And just what is it your plan?” Jeran said belligerently. The male’s smile
became indulgent.
“This is not a courtroom, Advocate. You cannot cross examine me.” His eyes lost
some of their coldness and he sat back, taking a piece of dried fruit from a
pocket of his sarong and tearing off a bite. He chewed thoughtfully before he
spoke again.
“Doctor Absum. The body you dissected. You told one of our operatives that in
your opinion it...he...was capable of breeding with true Ereban.”
The doctor frowned. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean by ‘true’ Ereban.”
Giving Absum a look of tired boredom, the male sighed. “You know exactly what I
mean, doctor. Don’t be so disingenuous.”
Flushing and quelling the urge to bite back with a sarcastic reply, Absum
softly cleared her throat and said mildly, “You are referring to lurin.”
“Yes!” the male sat forward, his eyes piercing. “You know full well that within
a little as the next two generations, lurin with be by far the dominant example
of the Ereban species. You and your ilk, doctor, will die out!”
“Then I can only surmise that you don’t consider me or my bond mate to be
Ereban.” Absum did her best to keep her anger and deep offence at bay.
“Oh, quite the contrary, doctor. There is absolutely no doubt you’re both
Ereban, but...how should I put it? A soon to be outmoded model?”
Absum and Gerron shared a tender look and the mate gave a surreptitious nod.
Emboldened, Absum said quietly, “One doesn’t have to be lurin to have changed.”
His eyes narrowing, the male said softly, “What is that supposed to mean?”
Again the bonded pair shared a long look. “We discovered some time ago that we
could lie without creating a brood and we found intense pleasure in the
process.”
Waving his hand dismissively, the male said derisively, “Then you are
lurin...lurin in denial!”
“No.” Absum said quietly and with great dignity. “You forget I am a doctor. We
are not lurin. When we found we possessed this...ability, my first reaction was
to examine both of us. Yes, we have developed pleasure organs where you would
expect to find them in male and female lurin, but we no longer produce cell or
seed. And these changes are recent; at least they have occurred within the last
five years. We have been covertly ‘monitoring’ our offspring to see if they’ve
begun to exhibit the same changes. As you’d imagine, they are very reluctant to
speak of things so personal, but being in the medical community, they have a
vested interest in their society. Of the thirty-eight children we have produced
every single one is beginning to change. The eldest have completed the change,
the youngest are just now showing the beginnings. Whatever it is that’s
producing more and more lurin is affecting we...outmoded models. In effect it
seems as a trade off because we can no longer breed, we can now indulge in the
reproductive act with intense pleasure.”
There were dark murmurings around the table until the male slapped his hand
down hard, the loud crack bringing silence. “The duplicity!”
“Who is being duplicitous?” Jeran almost shouted. “When are you going to tell
us what’s going on?”
“Our own government is in collusion with the Federation and our unhappy
neighbours. It’s been going on for more than a century. Ereban was earmarked as
a potential ally a very long time ago, but with the Federation’s troubles with
the Dominion War, then the Borg incursion, things were brought forward. But
still, they had the luxury of time. Or so they thought. That was until our
neighbours almost annihilated themselves in their damned war. That set in
motion a little plan of theirs involving seeding our atmosphere with a new
genetic message. Over the last four generations we have begun a false, vastly
accelerated genetic evolution.”
“But why?” said a clearly confused Absum. “What possible motive would they
have?”
“How does a new species on a lovely clean, mostly underpopulated planet, rich
in minerals and resources sound?”
“By the All Seeing One...you mean Ereban!”
“Indeed I do! And just to keep their foot in the door...and our neighbours on
the right side, the Federation has helped them! In order to keep them out of
the Typhon Pact, the Federation was willing to get into bed with their
scientists...offer assistance...in order to manufacture not only a willing
ally, but a species of powerful, prolifically breeding males and females with
which to bolster their thinning ranks!
“War with the Typhon Pact is inevitable and the Federation had always thought
our neighbours would side with the Pact, but the carrot dangled by the
Federation was enough to sway our neighbours. In return for saving what little
remains of their now joined species, they get Ereban! And that means they get
us!”
Jeran shook her head. “And not a drop of blood spilt! They’ll do it with a
stroke of a pen. By the time our people work out what’s happening, it’ll be too
late.”
Absum sat forward, asking urgently “Is there any way we can identify the
aliens? Stop them from breeding with us?”
The male laughed coldly. “Even if there was a way to identify them, do you
think lurin would refuse? Why do you think lurin were developed in the first
place? It is imperative for them to lie! Male and female...they don’t care with
whom.”
Seeing the outraged looks on Jeran and Murr, the male held up his hand. “I
apologise. I should have clarified. Non-bonded lurin will lie as often as they
can and with whomever they can find. I didn’t mean to imply bonded lurin were
not faithful to each other.”
Mollified, Jeran sat back and rubbed her brow. “All right, so what is your
plan?”
“This entire plot was uncovered seven generations ago, but back then, all we
knew for certain was that we carried within us human DNA. We didn’t know how it
got there, but as it seemed to be doing no harm, the discovery was quietly
buried. Years...generations passed and things began to change. Then three
generations ago, the first lurin appeared. Those of us who knew began to dig.
It took a further two generations, but the whole picture began to emerge, but
we were powerless to do anything about it! As long as we Ereban relied on our
familial ties for everything, we were never going to be able to defend
ourselves, either militaristically or scientifically. So a decision was
made...a very risky one. We knew of the Federation’s involvement but our then
government thought if we aligned ourselves with the very people who were so
hell-bent on taking us anyway, perhaps we might be able to effect a double-
cross. Use our new allies to protect us from our nefarious neighbours.
“Well on the face of it, that seemed to be a reasonably sound idea. But the
government had not considered the populations’ rejection. It took until the
current generation before the citizenry finally conceded. And so a formal
petition was made to join the Federation.”
The people sat in stunned silence. The male said almost off-handedly, “You
know, Doctor, those changes you described? I am no scientist, but I would wager
it’s happening simply because you carry within you DNA of four species and
they’ve each begun to wish to assert dominance.”
“That is absurd!” Absum blurted. “That kind of DNA selection; that being which
DNA has dominance occurs at fertilisation, not in grown, mature adults.”
“Really?” said the male sarcastically. “Then explain to me the occurrence of
sexually deviant behaviour in otherwise normal Ereban adults? People who had up
until they changed, had been absolutely normal? And your changes, Doctor. Can
you explain them?”
Jeran waved her hand. “This is irrelevant! Again I ask, what is your plan?”
“We have put in place people who have influence. When the time comes, and I
stress it won’t be in our lifetime, but sooner rather than later, going by the
latest statistics, when the ‘invasion’ begins, we will be ready. That double-
cross I mentioned. It’s not exclusively aimed at our neighbours, but at the
Federation as well. If they want is so badly, they’re going to have to take
us...and we’ll resist with the very weapons and ships they themselves will
supply. We will of course up until then be the perfect lap dogs! But by the
time everything happens there will be many, many Ereban. More, we think, than
the Federation realises.”
“And what of the human, Picard? What has he to do with all this?” Jeran was
partly curious and partly dreading the answer
The male sighed and actually looked sad. “It is regretful. Our government,
again in collusion with an entity within the Federation Council sent Picard as
a sacrificial lamb...a lamb to be slaughtered. They knew a man like Picard,
possessed with integrity and honour would at least try to do what he’d been
sent to do, that is assess Ereban for admission into the Federation and of
course he quickly found we were nowhere near suitable as candidates. But he was
also supposed to meet with what he’d been told were a clandestine group who
wished to elicit Federation assistance with our little ‘evolution’ problem. He
was set up from the very beginning. Even his selection as a man with a family
but who had not bonded was taken into account. And as for the three deviants
who raped, beat and murdered his family? Hand-picked by our government.”
Suddenly on her feet, Jeran slammed her fist down on the tabletop. “What about
Article 225.1? I can use it to...”
“NO!” the male calmed himself and motioned for Jeran to regain her seat. “No,
Advocate, you can’t use it. It will make no difference anyway. The Presider is
in the pocket of the Chief Seer. Picard’s trial is nothing but a sham. He was
doomed even before his ship left orbit to make the journey to Ereban. If the
situation with the deviants had failed, something else would’ve been made
available, something that would bring about his execution and if all else
failed, he would’ve been quietly....eliminated.”
“Then why bother with a trial and execution at all? Jeran was disgusted and
confused.
“Because,” the male said patiently, “the government wants the people to see how
seriously the Federation is taking our petition. If they’re willing to sit idly
by and allow our law to run its course and do nothing to protect one of their
most illustrious Captains, then surely they can be trusted?”
Absum closed her eyes and shook her head. “And the people will feel justified
in aligning themselves with an alien power.”
“Exactly.”
Jeran sighed, her broad shoulders slumping. “So Picard dies needlessly and in
one, perhaps two generations, we will be plunged into war with the Federation.”
“Yes. If we win, we win more than a war, Advocate. We win the right to be
ourselves...whatever that eventually is.” The male stared intently. “And,
Advocate. Picard’s death will not be needless. He serves a purpose. His death
will not be forgotten, not by us or by those to come. He will be forever
remembered for what the Federation once was and what we hope to be ourselves,
one day.”
 
Administrator Cerran stood outside Jean-Luc’s cell, staring at the special
container in her hand. It was the standard size for an Ereban male, but she
knew it was going to be too large for her ‘patient’, but it was a specially
engineered container, specifically designed for its job, so it wasn’t as if she
had a choice. Yet somehow she felt this situation was different and it made her
feel decidedly uncomfortable.
She’d not had a lot to do with her ‘patient’ but from what little contact she’d
had, she’d found him to be intelligent and inherently gentle. How he could’ve
found the excessive violence in him to murder three adult Ereban males...she
sighed and shook her head. “He was trying to protect his family...even though
he wasn’t bonded.” She thought sadly.
“Oh well, no time like the present.” She muttered. To the guard she nodded
towards the cell door and instructed, “Open it.”
Jean-Luc was sitting on the bench, staring at his hands which dangled between
his thighs. Cerran had to clear her throat loudly to gain his attention.
“Patient Picard, number 55839, as a gesture of good will, we, the staff here at
the hospital are affording you a singular privilege. I am going to leave
this...” she held up the container. “I will return in three of your hours to
collect it.”
Confused, Jean-Luc asked quietly, “What is it?”
Flushing slightly, the administrator said curtly, “It is a seed collector.”
“Pardon? A what?”
Through gritted teeth, Cerran hissed, “A seed collector!”
“Seed? What kind of seed?” Jean-Luc was growing more confused by the second.
Throwing her hands up, Cerran spat it out.
“You are to...stimulate yourself and produce three...samples of your seed!”
Realisation made Jean-Luc gape. “Why?” he asked, aghast.
“Because that is what we wish you to do!”
“And if I refuse?”
Shock, anger and outrage made the usually pleasant face of the administrator
darken. “If you refuse, we will take the samples by force and believe me, it is
NOT a pleasant or comfortable procedure. Now I am offering you the opportunity
to do it in privacy at your own pace and as long as you fulfil your obligation
within the allotted time, we will leave you alone. But hear me 55839. Failure
to comply will not be tolerated!”
She shoved the largish sealed container at Jean-Luc and he took it, his
expression one of distaste.
“You are going to comply?” Cerran said with a trace of threat.
“Yes.” Agreed Jean-Luc softly.
“Then I will be back in three hours!”
The door clanged shut leaving an embarrassed and bewildered Jean-Luc still
sitting, only now he was staring at the container, wondering just how he was
going to be able to ‘produce the goods’.
 
It was typical of Geordi to keep working well after his shift had ended. He’d
dismissed the young ensign, preferring to study the enigma on his own.
Engineering, like all the other crucial departments of the ship was staffed at
all times, but the beta shift...the night shift as some liked to call it...was
slightly smaller than the ‘day’ shift, so it was a more subdued environment
that afforded Geordi more time to devote to the problem.
It was just on oh four hundred when his head snapped up and he pushed his
wheeled chair back from the console in an involuntary gesture. He’d slapped his
comm. badge before he even knew he’d done it.
“LaForge to Riker!”
Will had been sleeping so restlessly that Deanna had taken to sleeping on the
sofa, but both occupants of Will’s quarters woke immediately to the urgency of
Geordi’s voice.
“Riker here. What is it, Geordi?”
“Sir, I’ve found something I think you should see. Right now, Commander.”
“Acknowledged! I take it you’re in engineering?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Right, I’ll be there shortly. Riker out.”
Deanna waited in silence as Will quickly dressed. He was striding to the doors
when he hesitated and turned to his lover. She held up her hand and offered a
small smile.
“Go. I’ll see you later.”
He gave a curt nod and was gone.
Geordi had brought up a large image of the area of space on their port side on
the main screen in engineering. Will found him peering at one section he’d
magnified. Nodding his acknowledgment of Will’s arrival, Geordi used the
knuckle of his right index finger to lightly tap the highlighted area.
“What is it?” Will asked brusquely.
“A ship, no doubt about, sir. They’re using a very sophisticated cloaking
device, in fact I’ve never seen anything like it, but whatever it is, they
can’t prevent the subspace interphase pocket. It’s bulging just like we
thought.”
“Can you tell what kind of ship? Romulan...Klingon maybe?”
Shaking his head, Geordi grimaced. “I doubt it’s either, sir. I don’t even
think it’s any of the Typhon Pact’s either.”
“Why?”
“Because of its size. I can’t be completely accurate, but the readings I’m
getting seem to suggest the ship’s about a ‘Defiant’ size. Now if the Typhon
Pact had sent a spy ship, surely it would be something much more discreet,
smaller and much harder to detect??”
‘Yeah, maybe, but a Defiant class can pack quite a punch, Geordi.”
“If it’s a Defiant class, Commander. I didn’t say it was, just that whatever’s
out there is about the same size, that’s all.”
Will thought for only a few seconds before saying curtly, “Route that...” he
jabbed his finger at the image on the screen. “...to the bridge. You’re with
me, Mr. LaForge.”
Within scant minutes both men exited the lift and strode on to the command
centre of the ship. The night shift immediately shoved aside their boredom and
listlessness and snapped into ready mode.
“Computer,” intoned Will. “I want a full, high-intensity sensor sweep and scan
of these coordinates.”
He nodded to Geordi who inputted the information. “Activate forward viewscreen
and display.”
Of course there was nothing to see but the edge of the planet below and
above...empty space.
“I don’t buy it. Tactical,” said Will sharply. “There’s a ship sitting cloaked
at those coordinates. I want you to send a standard hail, but direct it
specifically at those coordinates. I want that ship to know not only do we know
it’s there, but that we know exactly where.”
“Aye, Commander.”
Seconds of tense silence was followed by a quiet, “No response, sir.”
Will was just about to curse when Geordi shouted, “Whoa!”
Spinning around, Will barked, “What is it?”
“Look, I can’t be certain, but I’m pretty sure that ship just armed itself and
by the sharp jump in the EM band, I’d say they also raised some very heavy-duty
shields.”
“Not very friendly then.” Remarked Will drolly. “Okay, let’s reciprocate. Red
alert! Shields up to full intensity and bring all weapons online!” He turned
back to the viewscreen and said with some satisfaction, “And tactical, lock
onto the target.”
“Yes, sir!”
On the cloaked ship the captain was swearing with vulgarity his crew had rarely
ever heard. Once his expletive ridden tirade, in several languages had ended,
he glared at the image of the Enterprise and hissed, “That fucker Riker! Who
the hell does he think he is?”
“Shall we deploy the thaleron emitter?”
“No you idiot!”
“But it’ll vaporise the Enterprise. Problem solved.”
“Listen to me shit-for-brains. If we destroy the fucking flagship, just how do
you think we’re going to explain it? Hmm? If we blame the Typhon Pact it’ll
begin the war too soon! And besides, the fucking fallout from the thaleron
radiation would annihilate everything on the fucking planet! For Christ’s sake,
think before you open your stupid fucking mouth!”
No one dared speak while the captain ground his teeth. Eventually he threw his
hands up and said, “Right! We bug out! Take us out of the Enterprise’s sensor
range and keep watching. In the meantime, connect me with the section. Things
have just taken a u-turn.”
The very tense atmosphere on the Enterprise’s bridge lessened a little when
Geordi reported, “Commander? The SIP has just vanished. My guess is our mystery
ship has left.”
Will let out a long breath and sat down. “Okay, but I want continuous sensor
sweeps and scans right to the very limit of our capacity. I don’t want any more
surprises.”
“There was a quiet chorus of, “Yes, sir.”
There was no point in returning to his quarters, his shift was due to start in
an hour or two anyway. Will glared balefully at the planet, a very
uncharacteristic sneer firmly in place.
 
Jeran had only been asleep three hours when an intra net call woke her. She
answered quickly, hoping to not disturb the sleeping Murr, but he rolled over,
grumbling, “Who would call at this hour? Don’t they know it’s our day off?”
Giving him a quiet hush, she answered. “Advocate Jeran.”
“This is Presider Nellar. A situation is developing at the central justice
complex. Your attendance is required immediately.”
“I’m on my way, Presider.”
“Quickly, Jeran. Things are rapidly spiralling out of control. Enter by an
underground route. Do not, I repeat, do not try to enter through the main entry
or the peripheral entryways.”
“I understand, Presider.”
The line went dead and Jeran dressed with haste. Murr said with growing alarm,
“Is there anything I can do?”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Until I know what’s going on, it’s
best if you stay here. I’ll contact you if I can.”
She was almost out of the bedroom when Murr’s soft, deep voice stopped her in
her tracks. “I have never told you, Jeran, but I have always felt it. I love
you.”
She turned to face him, her eyes misting with tears. “And I have always loved
you, Murr. If I never see you again, I want you to know you have made me happy
beyond measure.”
She didn’t give him the opportunity to respond. All he heard was the front door
closing softly.
The main city of Ereban was impressive in its own way, mostly because of its
size, but that was mostly to accommodate the huge proportions of its citizens,
but what the ordinary people didn’t know was that beneath their city was a
intricate series of tunnels and complexes, a city beneath a city. The entrances
to the access tunnels were very cleverly disguised and, as the average Ereban
was both trusting and a little naive, they never saw what was in fact, right
under their own noses.
Heeding the presider’s warning, Jeran drove away from her home in the opposite
direction to the central justice complex. She parked her ground vehicle at a
public transport hub and entered a nondescript office. There, making sure she
was unobserved, opened a concealed pad and inputted her secret code. The well
hidden door opened and she entered a lift which descended so quickly her ears
popped.
As soon as the lift doors opened she exited and began a ground-eating lope. The
distance was at least two kilometres but she covered it easily. Another pad,
this one openly displayed accepted her code and she found herself in the sub
basement of the central justice complex. A guard stepped in front of her and
she brandished her wrist so her sub dermal chip could be read. Having verified
her identity, the guard bowed and said respectfully, “You are expected,
Advocate. Please follow me.”
As they rose in a lift Jeran activated the screen that connected to the
security systems surrounding the complex. What she saw made her gape. “What are
all those people doing here? By the All Seeing One...are they rioting?”
Her questions went unanswered as the lift stopped and the doors opened.
Greeting her was the Chief Presider. Again, Jeran gaped, but quickly recovered.
“Oh, I beg your indulgence, Chief Presider. I was expecting Presider Nellar.”
The huge male gave a grim look. “This has gone beyond her purview. I am taking
over this case.”
“And which case is that, sir?”
“Come with me, Advocate.”
They walked a short distance to an area Jeran knew well. The door they now
faced would lead to a cell where the condemned awaited their execution.
“In there, Advocate, you will find your ‘client’ the human, Picard. Due to the
appalling social unrest the news of his impending trail, which was to be held
this morning is causing it has been decided to forego the trial completely and
proceed with the execution.
Scrambling to regain her wits, Jeran blurted, “I was not informed the trial
date had even been set!”
The Chief Presider sighed. “Things have moved quickly, Advocate and as the
decision has been made for a summary execution, it was not necessary to inform
you. But protocol demands you accompany your client to his execution. That is
why you are here now. Kindly perform your duties with respect and decorum as
befitting your station.”
“And what of his family? They should be here.”
“They have been summoned, Advocate. While we await their arrival, I suggest
you...explain matters to your client.”
Jeran could only watch in stunned silence as the chief presider turned and
walked away.
 
Beverly was feeling her mind beginning to rapidly unravel. Since receiving the
urgent message to beam down to the central justice complex, she was finding it
harder and harder to do even the simplest of things. David had helped her to
dress and now he was brushing her hair. Without his steadying influence,
Beverly would’ve lost her tenuous grip of her sanity completely.
They eventually beamed down and were immediately taken into a cold, startlingly
clean, white room. They were directed to set of tiered seats and told to sit
and wait. Beverly stared uncomprehendingly, her mind blank, at the odd
apparatus situated in the exact centre of the room. Nothing was making any
sense. David clung to his mother’s hand, doing his best not to wet his pants.
Jeran stood outside the cell she knew contained the condemned man. She schooled
her features into a profession milieu and nodded to the guard, giving him the
tacit order to open the door, but as soon as she set eyes on Jean-Luc her
expression crumpled into sorrow and regret.
Jean-Luc was no fool. He suspected what was about to happen, but he asked
anyway. “What is going on?”
Summoning a steady voice, Jeran said quietly, “News of your trial, which was
scheduled for this morning had got out. At present the central justice complex
is surrounded on all sides by hundreds...perhaps thousands of people, some
protesting, some encouraging, but all in conflict. Rioting has broken out and
our security forces cannot control the growing unrest. Because your guilt was
never in doubt, to restore order, it has been decided that you will undergo
summary execution.”
To his credit, Jean-Luc showed no outward emotion. His voice was strong, but
quiet as he asked, “When?”
“Now.”
“I see. Very well, let’s get this over with, shall we?”
Admiring his dignity and composure, Jeran struggled to keep her emotions under
control. She nodded and said softly, “You must disrobe, Captain. One cannot
enter the afterlife clothed. You entered your existence naked and so you shall
leave it the same.”
With calm efficiency, Jean-Luc stripped. Once he was naked, Jeran knocked on
the door. Two huge guards stepped into the large room, each one taking one of
Jean-Luc’s elbows. The captain stood straight and said quietly, “That is not
necessary. I can assure you I require no assistance, nor will I offer any
resistance.”
Jeran nodded to the guards who released Jean-Luc and stood back. Together,
Jeran leading, they walked single file down a corridor and into the execution
room. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Beverly and David, but refused to
look at them. Instead he concentrated on the apparatus in the middle of the
room. It was a large tubular metal frame, open at one end. He noted a padded
low stool had been placed within the device and what appeared to be hastily
made hand holds had been situated closer than the permanent ones on what he
assumed were arms rests.
There were two other Ereban in the room, apart from Jeran and the two guards.
One wore robes of dark purple and edged in gold. The other wore nothing but a
loin cloth. In his hand was a slight curved brightly gleaming grey blade.
Jeran said quietly, “Go and stand at the open end of the frame. When ordered to
take your position, you are to kneel on the stool, lay your arms on the rests
and grip the handles. Because your blood must be clean, we cannot offer you
anything in the way of a chemical ant-anxiety medication, but should you wish
it, you can be restrained and an eye cover applied.”
“Thank you, but none of that will be necessary.” Jean-Luc’s voice was still
strong and calm.
Jeran was about to step back and take her place, but she couldn’t help but say
sotto voce, “I am deeply sorry, Captain Picard. I regret what has happened to
you...what is about to happen to you.”
Somehow Jean-Luc found a smile. “Thank you.” He said softly.
Jeran took her place and the purple-robed figure came to stand at the front of
the frame.
“Patient 55839, you have been pronounced guilty of your crimes. Such was the
barbarity of your crimes and the overwhelming evidence in your case, it has
been decided to forgo the procedure of a trial and go directly to the
punishment phase. In your case, that means execution. As is customary, you are
to be given the opportunity to make a last statement. Do you wish to do so?”
“Yes.” Said Jean-Luc quietly. “Although I do not regret my actions in defence
of my family, I do regret the situation that led to my actions. It is my hope
my death will bring an end to the unrest among the people of Ereban and it is
my fervent hope that your people prosper in the future.”
The purple-robed male glowered. “By refusing to repent you will suffer in the
afterlife, 55839. May the All Seeing One have mercy upon you.”
The robed male took three measured steps back and nodded to the male with the
blade. He came to stand behind Jean-Luc and said quietly, “Take your position.”
Jean-Luc did as requested, finding the new hand-holds a little too far away to
comfortably reach, but he sighed to himself. It made little difference. He
reached forward and found a firm grip.
A large hand wrapped around his brow, gently easing his head back. A collector
was fastened to the base of his neck, presumably to catch his blood. He kept
his eyes open and concentrated, bringing into his mind images of all his
family. Beverly, David, Monique and the little girl he would never get to know.
He just saw the large hand come across his exposed neck and he felt the
slightest of pressure, a cold sensation and then the warmth of his blood as it
ran freely down the side of his neck. There was no pain.
The odd flash of light momentarily confused him. “Is that it?” he wondered. “Am
I dead?”
The voice both shocked and enraged him.
“I wouldn’t move so much as a muscle, mon capitaine. Your carotid artery has
been cut, one millimetre more and phft! You’ll be gone.”
Making sure he kept absolutely still, Jean-Luc managed to say one word. “Q!”
Suddenly he wasn’t in the apparatus any more. He was standing naked and
bleeding in front of his old nemesis, who for once was dressed in something
other than a Starfleet uniform. Q saw Jean-Luc look him up and down and
grinned. “I thought, seeing as I was saving you...again...I’d dispense with
formality and go casual.”
Blood was now pooling around Jean-Luc’s left foot. Q looked down and shook his
head. “Tsk, tsk, Jean-Luc. Put some pressure on the wound or we’ll run out of
time.”
Annoyed, Jean-Luc nonetheless did as Q suggested. He then looked around the
room only to see everything frozen. When he saw the vacant look in Beverly’s
eyes and how David was gripping her around her waist while he had buried his
face in her side almost made him weep. “No...oh, no...Beverly...”
“Yep.” Said Q. “Poor old Red. Lost the plot completely, I’m afraid.”
Rage surged up in Jean-Luc and he rounded on the omnipotent being. “Is this
your idea of some kind of sick joke? Are you so debauched that you have to put
my family through your perverted scenarios?”
Q’s face lost all his natural capriciousness. “Oh no, Jean-Luc. This is no
joke, far from it. This is deadly serious, I promise you.”
“Then why? Why have you interfered?” Jean-Luc was completely unconvinced; too
many times the butt of Q’s cruelty.
Waving his arm in a wide arc, Q said with uncharacteristic exasperation.
“Because this timeline is wrong!”
“What do you mean wrong? Timelines are what they are! And you know you can’t
alter them!”
“Don’t you dare to presume to tell me what I can or cannot do, Picard! I know
more about time and the universe than your puny simian brain could even hope to
comprehend and I’m telling you this timeline is wrong! It was never meant to be
this way!”
Struggling to calm himself, Jean-Luc said carefully, “All right. Can you
explain why you say this timeline is...wrong?”
Q seemed to appreciate Jean-Luc’s efforts to be civil and calm. Sneering
distastefully at the still flowing blood from Jean-Luc’s neck wound, Q waved
his hand and Jean-Luc found his injury repaired and the blood gone. He was,
however, still naked. He was about to thank Q when the entity wagged a finger
and shook his head. “No, Jean-Luc, don’t thank me. If you refuse to do what is
right, I’ll put you back in that...thing...and let the execution go ahead.”
“And what is right, Q? What is it I’m supposed to do?”
“Go back.”
“To where?”
“To a time, not too far back, but far enough to stop what’s happening here on
Ereban...and other places.”
Jean-Luc sighed and rubbed his bald head. “Q.” He said patiently. “You know I
can’t interfere with the timeline. We’ve had this discussion before.”
“Yes. But what if I told you that a decision taken by a small fledgling group
within the Federation Council over a century ago was fundamentally wrong and
led to what we have now...and will lead to a catastrophic event in the very
near future?”
“Q...”
Placing a hand on Jean-Luc’s bare shoulder, Q bent slightly to look deeply into
the captain’s eyes. “Jean-Luc you and I both know that the timeline is in a
constant state of flux. It is decided every millisecond, its passage directed
by the very choices each and every person makes at any given time. Now this
decision I mentioned, the one made over a century ago. It has given rise to all
that is wrong about the Federation now...and don’t tell me you’re unaware of
what’s going on, I know you’re aware of at least some of it, but believe me,
what you know is just the tip of the ice berg. It has to stop, Jean-Luc! It
must be stopped! And you, mon captitaine are perfectly situated to do it.”
“How, Q? How do I, a mere ship’s captain, stop something as entrenched and
powerful as section 31? How do I ferret out those corrupt individuals in
Starfleet, not to mention the Federation Council? I can’t do it on my own, Q!
They have the power and the means to eliminate me without so much as raising a
sweat!”
“Like now?” Q’s tone was sardonic but he was deadly serious. “You know who’s
behind all this, Jean-Luc.” He swept his arm wide. “You’re no fool. A
romantic...a martyr perhaps, but no fool.”
The two beings looked at each other, one confused and scared, the other intent
and committed.
“You know the right people, Jean-Luc. All it would take is some judicious, very
quiet dissemination of the truth. They know it anyway, they just need a
catalyst. And that catalyst is you, Jean-Luc!”
Still wavering, wanting to believe, wanting to put right what he knew was wrong
but the thought of never interfering with the timeline was ingrained. It went
against everything he’d been taught. Q saw his dilemma and said quietly. “All
right. Time for a little trip into the future. Hang on to your hat, Jean-Luc,
it aint going to be pretty.” Just as he raised his hand he said with a wicked
grin, “Oh...no hat! Sorry!”
 
The next thing Jean-Luc saw was the interior of sickbay on the Enterprise.
Beverly was lying on a biobed; obviously deeply unconscious, her eyes taped
shut, an intravenous line attached to the crook of her right elbow.
“Beverly...” Jean-Luc whispered; his distress obvious. Q leaned over and said
in a normal speaking voice, “No need to whisper, Jean-Luc. No one can see or
hear us.”
“What has happened to her?”
Q snorted. “I’ve already told you! She’s lost the plot...checked
out...dissociated I believe is the medical term.”
“Will she be all right?” Jean-Luc was on the verge of tears. Q put an arm
around his shoulders. “All right is a relative term, Jean-Luc. Wait and see,
you be the judge. Now...your son, David. Let’s drop in on him, shall we?”
Another disorienting slip had them standing in the ship’s morgue. Three of the
chilled alcoves were open. On one lay Jean-Luc’s body. Beside him, next in line
was Monique’s remains and finally, resting in a satin-lined metal box was the
tiny body of the unborn girl. All that was distressing enough but standing at
his father’s side was David. The dry, salty tracks of his recent tears were
left untouched on his face as the boy stared down at the body. He stood so
still, Jean-Luc had to study him intently to see he was actually breathing. It
took a moment to realise David was whispering. Jean-Luc stepped closer to hear.
“Why, papa, why did you leave us? Maman has gone too and I’m all alone. I don’t
know what to do. You asked me to help, to help maman, but I can’t...she has
gone away and papa...who will help me?”
Reaching for him and letting out a sob as his hands passed right through the
boy, Jean-Luc said brokenly, “Oh, David, David my sweet son...”
The tableau shifted again. They were in a small house and Deanna was in the
kitchen. The furnishings were shabby and Deanna’s clothing was of poor quality.
Q said conversationally, “This afternoon, David celebrated his fourteenth
birthday. He’s playing with one of his ’gifts’ now and in about an hour, when
Riker comes home from his job at the factory, everyone will take the public
land vehicle to visit old Red. Want to see your teenage son?”
Jean-Luc nodded mutely and Q led him through the small ‘home’ and walked
straight through David’s bedroom door. There, lying on a narrow bed was David,
passionately kissing another boy of similar age while they indulged in mutual
masturbation. Jean-Luc immediately turned and left the room. Q raised one
eyebrow and said snidely, “Disappointed your only surviving child is a
homosexual?”
“No, Q.” Said Jean-Luc sadly. “I just wanted to give him...and his friend their
privacy.”
“Well how evolved you are, Jean-Luc! But it’s going to make perpetuating the
old Picard line a bit tricky. The new world government frowns on wasting
valuable resources on personal matters like assisted reproduction. Takes from
the war effort don’t you know.”
“What war? And why are Will, Deanna and David living in such...”
“Squalid surrounds?” Finished Q. “I told you, Jean-Luc. This timeline is wrong!
The war is being fought on five fronts. The ‘Federation’ though it’s not even
remotely what you would remember it as being, is engaged in fighting the Typhon
Pact, which grows stronger every day, the Ereban, who have enlisted the help of
their former enemies, the Andorians, who are in a struggle with everyone for
independence, the Tellarites, now there’s a greedy bunch and finally...the
Vulcans!”
“The Vulcans?” said an incredulous s Jean-Luc. “I can’t believe that! Vulcan is
one of the founding worlds of the Federation.”
Holding up one finger, Q’s eyebrows rose.
“Ah...but that would be the Federation you remember. Let’s get all this
straight. Within hours of your execution your newly repaired body...and
its...samples...was shipped back to the Enterprise and Riker high-tailed it
back to Earth. He had quite a bee in his bonnet. Once back home a bun-fight
ensued culminating with Riker, Troi, Selar, LaForge...Gods, Jean-Luc over 80%
of your old crew resigned.”
“But...why?” said a bewildered Jean-Luc. “I know things were bad in the
Federation...but...”
“It wasn’t just your crew, Jean-Luc. Riker had let the cat out of its
proverbial bag. He had enough evidence to show the Federation had been dabbling
in things not quite Kosher. A lot of noses were put out of joint, Jean-
Luc...too many for section 31 to...disappear. But word was spreading fast.
Earth’s population complained bitterly, but guess what happened? There was a
coup in the Council. Bacco out....and guess who comes in as Federation
President? Duras. Toral Duras.”
“NO!” shouted an outraged captain. “That entire family is nothing but....”
“Now, now, Jean-Luc, you’re dead, remember. No need to get all upset. So
anyway, President Duras brings in wholesale changes, Earth’s population becomes
slaves by proxy. Everything is geared for war production. Food is rationed,
energy conserved. The ‘new’ Federation embarks on a mission of conquer and
pillage. World after world are enslaved and stripped bare to keep the wheels of
the great war machine turning. So Riker, Troi, Red and David are shunted about
from place to place, not trusted because of their past association with the
former Starfleet and they fall on hard times. Troi ekes out a meagre wage as a
machinist and Riker works in a foundry. David, who had begun to show talent in
weapons design has been fast tracked into an accelerated learning course. I
suppose he’s the only real bright spot.”
“And Beverly? What happened to my Beverly?”
“Old Red...dear Beverly, remained in a catatonic state for about 18 months. She
was, of course, placed in a ‘care facility’ but really it was just an
institution by another name. She came out of her catatonia, but she was never
the same. The doctors refer to it as an ‘altered state’. As far as Beverly’s
concerned, you’re still Captain of the Enterprise, David is just shy of his 7th
birthday, Monique is soon to begin kindergarten and you and your dear partner
have not yet chosen a name, boy or girl, for her 4 month gone unborn child.”
“Where is she? Please Q, I must see her!”
Q shrugged and rolled his eyes. “You really are a glutton for punishment, Jean-
Luc...but all right.”
Again they shifted and Jean-Luc gasped at the seedy room. The linens on the bed
were stained and so were the night clothes Beverly wore. She was out of the
bed, sitting in a chair that had a badly repaired leg, making it wobble if she
moved. The sunlight that found its way through the grime on the window was
watery, the atmosphere outside polluted with industrial waste.
Just as Jean-Luc was moving closer to his beloved partner, the room’s door
opened and David came in. Deanna did too, but she stayed back, unobtrusively
waiting near the door. David went to his mother and knelt, kissing her cheek.
“Hello, maman. How are you today?”
Beverly’s face turned away from the window and Jean-Luc couldn’t contain a sob.
Her once lustrous red hair was mostly grey...dry and brittle. Her blue eyes
were dull and sunken into her gaunt face. When she smiled at David he saw her
teeth were rotten and some were missing altogether.
“David, my young son.” She said in a wavering voice. She lifted a trembling,
bony hand and ran it through his light brown hair. “How was school?”
“Good, maman.”
“And are you helping papa with Monique?” Her free hand went to her lower belly.
“Once the baby’s born we’re all going to have to pitch in, you know.”
“Yes, maman, I know.”
“Such a good boy...my David.”
Shuffling a little closer, David said very quietly, “Maman? Do you remember I
told you last time I came, only a few days ago, that it looks like I’m going to
be able to not only save some good money soon, but if I do well in my studies,
I’ve been told I might go to the Sorbonne? If that happens I will be able to
get you out of here and give you that surprise I’ve been telling you about.”
“You’re making something for the baby in school? Oh, David, that’s lovely. So
thoughtful. But you always were such a good boy.” She tapped the tip of his
nose. “That’s when you’re not teasing Monique, of course.”
If David felt any despair he didn’t show it. He rose and kissed his mother’s
brow. “I’ll be back in a few days, maman. Stay well.”
“I will, David...and tell your papa not to work too hard!”
“Yes, maman.”
As David and Deanna left the room, Q said, “She’ll tolerate Troi in the room,
but not too close. Riker...she completely throws a wobbly fit. The medicos
think she subconsciously blames Riker for not rescuing you, even though in her
altered state she believes you’re still hale and hearty.”
Quelling his heartache, Jean-Luc asked, “What was David talking about?”
Q grinned and Jean-Luc had a sudden, almost overwhelming urge to punch him full
in the face.
“Wait and see, Jean-Luc, wait and see.”
 
The next shift had them back in the run down hovel that served as David’s home.
He was seated on a ratty, torn sofa, his arms around a sobbing Deanna. By the
look of pain in his son’s eyes, Jean-Luc feared the worst. “Beverly!” he
whispered, his gut wrenching. Only the tightly restraining hand on his arm
prevented him from going to his son.
“You can’t help, Jean-Luc, but for what it’s worth, it’s not Red. It’s Riker.
He was...oh, what’s the old Earth term...” he snapped his fingers in triumph.
“Mugged! Yes, that’s it, he was mugged. Street crime is in epidemic proportions
as Earth’s population struggles to feed, clothe, house itself. Riker had just
picked up the pittance he was paid and was assaulted as he made his way to the
public transport station. Apparently he would’ve survived the beating he’d been
given if he’d got to a hospital soon enough, but priority is given to military
personnel. He’d been given one hell of a whack to the neck. Ruptured a major
blood vessel. He bled out before anyone even bothered to report finding his
body. So now, Troi is your son’s only legal guardian. Oh, I didn’t tell you
about that, did I? When the Enterprise returned to Earth from Ereban and Red
was you know...” he made circular motions around his left temple with his
finger. “...she was declared unfit so Riker and Troi who, by the way had three
little ankle biters of their own, but that’s another story...became David’s
legal guardians. They only got him because of his age. Any older and the
military would’ve gobbled him up and any younger and the state would’ve
snaffled him for much the same reason. Get ‘em young and train ‘em hard’”
“Will Riker...dead?” Jean-Luc was struggling to accept his long-time friend was
gone.
“Yep. Hard to believe, eh? Anyway, time to move on!”
Jean-Luc almost staggered at the new location. The home was a vast improvement.
It was larger, cleaner and was furnished tastefully. Deanna, who had aged badly
was sitting in the living room, frowning deeply as David spoke. A young man,
quite handsome and very black sat beside him. They were holding hands.
“Aunt Dee, I would like your support not your opposition! I turned 18
yesterday; you’re no longer my legal guardian!”
“But David...what you’re proposing...it’s...grotesque! I’ve said it often
enough, so did your Uncle Will. You should’ve allowed us to cremate your loved
ones as soon as we came back to Earth all those years ago. Keeping them...and
the biological samples of your father’s in stasis is just...it’s a form of
denial, David! Can’t you see that?”
“What I see, Aunt Dee; is you living a comfortable life. You live in my home,
you have nice clothes, you no longer have to work, there’s plenty of food in
the cupboards...you’ve done quite well through me! Why can’t you support me
now, when I need you most?!”
“Need I point out that your exalted position in society is because you design
such efficient weapons for our masters? How many people have died through your
brilliance, David?”
“Like my father, I am committed to the Federation, not any ‘masters!’. You’d do
well to remember what happens to detractors, Aunt Dee.”
“Are you threatening me, David?”
“No, Aunt Dee. I’m simply reminding you of your obligations. Now Enrique and I
are on our way to pick up maman’s harvested ova. The doctors have informed me
they have ten healthy ova which have been brought to maturity. The sperm in
papa’s semen is still viable and already the three male and one female have
been selected. Once fertilisation occurs and is stable, maman’s remaining ovum
will be fertilised with papa’s sperm at random, I don’t care what gender they
produce. They’ll be kept in storage. Once all that is complete, Enrique and I
will donate our genetic input and begin our family. We will, of course be using
gender selection.” The two men gazed into each other’s eyes. “Two boys, two
girls. One of the boys will carry the name Jean-Luc and one of the girls,
Beverly.”
“Your mother, both your parents would never have agreed with what you’re about
to do David.”
“My father was a great man, my mother a brilliant scientist and a damned fine
doctor. I lost them, I lost my little sisters. Well, I can’t bring my parents
back, but I can recreate my family. I’m going to have siblings and children of
my own.”
“And you’re going to take advantage of your position to do it!” Deanna shouted.
“How many ordinary citizens, who yearn for a child but can’t get access to the
technology you so easily bandy about would give everything they have for the
chance to do what you’re about to do?”
Looking suitably bored, David shrugged. “It’s really not my problem, Aunt Dee.
I’ve been working towards this moment since I was fourteen! Would you deny me
my chance at happiness?”
“Where are my children, David?”
At last he gave a look of pained embarrassment. “That was nothing to do with
me, that was government policy! The babies were taken for their own good!”
“And no doubt reared to become soldiers. Are any of them alive still, do you
think, David? Will your siblings....your children be taken?”
The young man abruptly rose, practically dragging his partner to his feet too.
“I’ve heard enough! If you can’t reconcile yourself to what I’m going to do,
then perhaps you might consider alternative living arrangements!” He stormed to
the door, but hesitated. Half turning he said in a calmer tone, “I won’t throw
you out onto the streets, Aunt Dee. Perhaps you might like to live at the
chateau? Give it some thought.”
The door closed quietly and Deanna sank into her chair. “Oh, Beverly, what has
happened to your son?”
Jean-Luc looked at Q and asked the same question. The omnipotent being
shrugged. “He is a product of his society, Jean-Luc. You can’t blame him for
taking advantage of his own talents. Come on, we’re going for a ride.”
Before Jean-Luc could ask where, they found themselves in the back seat of
David’s flitter. Only the elite could possess such a luxury.
“Well,” said Enrique mildly. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“Hmph!” snorted David. “So holier-than-thou! Still, I’m out from under her
thumb now.”
“Yeah. So, where to first?”
“To the hospice, pick up the ova. Maman’s still sedated but the doc’s say she’s
feeling no pain.”
“How long’s she got?”
“Dunno, a week? Maybe two. They didn’t expect her to last this long. Lucky for
us she did. That damned blood disorder the Pact infected her with...Jesus! If
our medics hadn’t figured out what was going on...”
What was the final death toll from that, anyway?”
“Oh, about eight million. Put a hell of a dent in the war effort. We had to
bring in some spares from Bollius 9.”
“Pity.”
“Yeah. Anyway, once we have the ova it’s over to the repo lab, do the business
and then we load everything into the flitter and head on over the wide Pacific
to Hawaii.”
Enrique offered a rakish grin, making David cup his genitals. “The repo lab has
all your father’s samples?”
“Yep. Everything’s ready. This time tomorrow our brood will be happily
gestating and you and I will be happily fucking in a quiet cabin by the sea.”
“Gods...you say the nicest things, David.”
“Yeah, I know.”
 
Jean-Luc lowered his head and two tears squeezed out of his tightly closed
eyes. “I’ve seen enough, Q.”
“No, Jean-Luc, you haven’t. Not quite yet. There’s still the denouement.”
“Q. Please.”
“Just one more shift, Jean-Luc, I promise.”
All Jean-Luc could do was sigh. He couldn’t stop Q if he tried.
They were in the flitter again, raucously loud music playing. David and Enrique
had to shout to hear each other.
“Isn’t it fucking fantastic?” yelled David
“What?” asked Enrique loudly.
Jerking his thumb over his shoulder, Jean-Luc had the unsettling feeling his
son could see him. “In the cargo space. My siblings and our kids!”
“Oh! Yeah! Fantastic!”
“Want to have some fun?” yelled David.
“Why not?” replied his lover, grinning widely.
David deactivated the sensors and scanners and pushed the yoke forward. The
craft nosedived at over seven hundred kph. They flew into a thick blanket of
sea fog, making David whoop with delight. Enrique, however, wasn’t so happy.
David levelled out the craft only about twenty metres above the surface of the
sea.
“Don’t you think you should re-engage the navigation controls?” asked Enrique
nervously.
“Where’s the fun in that?” David yelled. “You’ve got to learn to live your life
Enrique, mon coeur!”
The first bird smashed into the port side.
“What the fuck?!” David shouted.
Enrique, his dark eyes like saucers, screamed, “Gannets! Diving gannets! Pull
up for God’s sake, David...pull up now!”
Too late David hauled on the yoke but all that did was put the flitter on a
collision course with the large flock of diving birds. What happened was
inevitable. A large bird speared beak first right through the windscreen,
hitting David in the throat. The flitter went wildly out of control, Enrique,
who couldn’t pilot the craft, was left strapped in his seat screaming for David
to help. But David had died instantly; the head of the bird, its beak still
attached had severed his spine.
The flitter shattered on impact with the sea and sank quickly, taking almost
two hours to reach the bottom, three kilometres below. No bodies were ever
recovered.
When Jean-Luc uncovered his face he was back in the execution room.
 
Jean-Luc sank to his knees, overcome with grief and horror. In an
uncharacteristic display of sympathy, Q placed a comforting hand on the quietly
weeping man. Squatting down, Q said softly, “So, Jean-Luc?”
He would never be able to explain how he found the strength, but Jean-Luc shook
his head.
“No, Q. I can’t.”
“Hmm.” Hummed Q. “Stubborn to the last. Very well, Jean-Luc. If I can’t
convince you through personal means let me fill you in on what eventually
happens...on a galactic scale.”
Jean-Luc shuddered through a sigh and said weakly, “If I told you to shut up
you’d only ignore me wouldn’t you.”
“You know me so well, Jean-Luc. But that’s something to discuss some other
time. You recall I told you there would be a catastrophic event if this
timeline continues?”
Jean-Luc lifted his head, his gaze stricken. “Yes, Jean-Luc, even worse than
what you’ve seen so far.”
Shaking his head, Jean-Luc pleaded. “No more, Q...please, I’ve had enough, I’ve
heard enough.”
“Sorry, that’s just it, Jean-Luc, you haven’t heard enough, not yet.”
Lowering his head into his hands, Jean-Luc let out a soft moan. Q sat beside
the bereft man and kept his hand on his shoulder.
“The Typhon Pact. You recall I told you it was growing stronger every day?
Well, eventually, after twenty-three long years of war it was the Pact who
emerged the victors. They’d managed to defeat everyone and the Pact, which now
comprised over six hundred worlds went on a killing spree. I could attempt to
put a round figure on it, but really, wholesale slaughter on a scale like
that...mere numbers are meaningless. But the Pact bore a lot of grudges,
especially towards the Federation. What was their solution? They not only
obliterated Earth, but they hunted down and butchered each and every human,
even any hybrid being who carried human DNA until no trace of humankind existed
anywhere in known space. Now I don’t know about you, Jean-Luc, but even the
Continuum views that as a catastrophic event.”
“What do you care, Q? You’ve always made it clear to me the Continuum sees
humankind as a nuisance anyway.” The bitterness and recrimination in Jean-Luc’s
voice made Q sneer.
“Oh, make no mistake, Picard, we still do! But the wiping out of an entire
species like the humans, plus the complete destruction of their home
world...well that just wasn’t supposed to happen. And with the Typhon Pact now
free to wander around, doing whatever they please? No, that simply cannot be
allowed. Humans, Vulcans, many of the Federation worlds do have some redeeming
features, at least we think so. Perhaps with time, they may even evolve into
something truly useful. But the Pact? Nope, not a chance. So mon ami, it all
comes back to you. Are the stakes high enough now?”
Jean-Luc spoke so softly, Q had to lean closer and ask him to repeat himself.
“Do it.”
His eyes narrowing, the omnipotent being tilted his head, his expression
speculative.
“Are you sure, Jean-Luc?”
“Yes. Do it. Send me back.”
Q raised his hand, but then placed his mouth near Jean-Luc’s ear. “You realise
of course, there’ll be a price to pay, Jean-Luc? Nothing is for free.”
“I don’t care, Q. Do it!”
 
Two things were immediately certain. He was in his darkened bedroom on the
Enterprise and he could smell the unmistakable scent of sex. The soft voice
near his ear made him freeze.
“Jean-Luc?” whispered Beverly. “What’s wrong? Why have you stopped?”
It was then he understood he was in the process of making love with Beverly.
His erection, which had wilted began to grow again, but Beverly was still
concerned. “What is it? Are you in pain?”
The irony almost made Jean-Luc sob, but instead he buried his face in Beverly
neck and hugged her to him, his hips beginning to lift and fall as their
intimate dance recommenced.
Such was the overwhelming sense of relief, joy, love and gratitude Jean-Luc
felt, their lovemaking was extraordinary. It was, perhaps, the most intimate,
profound and satisfying experience of both their lives.
In the morning, while Beverly still slept soundly in the tangled mess of their
bed coverings, Jean-Luc rose quietly and crept through their quarters. As he
entered David’s room his eyes filled with tears. He kissed his son, then went
next to Monique’s room. He knew by the decor that Beverly wasn’t yet pregnant
with their third child. They’d redecorated Monique’s room as soon as they’d
found Beverly was pregnant in an effort to make Monique feel she wasn’t being
displaced. With tears streaming freely and unheeded down his cheeks, he kissed
his daughter and went to his desk.
It was the work of mere minutes to bring himself up to where and when he was.
The mission to Ereban was still three months away. The Enterprise was docked at
McKinley Station undergoing some upgrades. He was just about to make the first
of what was going to be many very sensitive and highly secret calls when a
sudden realisation hit him.
Their lovemaking that night. If his calculations were correct, they had just
conceived their baby daughter. Again tears ran down his stubbled face, but
rather than give in to the remembered pain, anguish and hideous memories, he
redirected his emotions to determination and steely resolve. If what Q had
shown him was real, and he had no reason to believe otherwise, he had to put in
motion the mechanisms of change, but it was going to be extraordinarily
difficult and fraught with danger, not just for those he would involve, but his
family too.
Somehow, while the turmoil ensued, he had to find a way to keep them safe. He
knew he had but one Achilles’ heel and his enemies would know exactly what it
was too.
 
He was still at his desk, completely engrossed when Beverly’s arms wrapped
sinuously around his neck from behind. She nuzzled under his ear and tongued
his skin. His concentration broken so deliciously, he reached up, taking her
hands and guiding her around him to settle her on his lap. He’d surreptitiously
tabbed off the monitor and Beverly mewed as he bent to take one of her hardened
nipples in his mouth.
Her head lolling back she mewed again with pleasure and said breathily, “My
God, Jean-Luc...last night...”
“Mmm...” he agreed. “You were magnificent, Beverly, my love.”
“I was magnificent? Jean-Luc...I don’t know what or why, but you were...”
“We were, Beverly, it was us...our love.”
“Oh...that’s so good...” Beverly gently ran her fingertips over the sensitive
skin of Jean-Luc’s scalp, making him growl. Her next words made him freeze.
“You do realise you’re naked and your erection is poking up between my thighs?”
He was just processing that when a sleepy voice came from his left. “Maman?
Papa? What’re doing?”
Jean-Luc said sotto voce, “And is it now that I point out that you too are
naked, Beverly?”
To David, standing just outside his bedroom door, hair askew and knuckling his
eyes, his naked parents presented an amusing sight, but even at the tender age
of nearly seven, he knew his father didn’t take kindly to being teased or
laughed at. His mother certainly, but the lad knew his father had to be
approached carefully if he was to be made fun of. Jean-Luc knew this of course
and, armed with the memories that now resided, unwanted but undeniable in his
mind and heart; he decided there and then that he would change that aspect of
himself. If his children couldn’t laugh at him, who could? Looking around
Beverly’s bare shoulder, he grinned at his son and winked. “Maman and I are
having a cuddle. Would you like to go back into your bedroom...just for a few
minutes while we...get ourselves sorted out?”
This new attitude of his father both intrigued and delighted David who
possessed a wicked sense of humour. Deciding to test this new situation he
threw caution to the winds and asked baldly, “Papa?”
Jean-Luc made sure to keep any inflection of disapproval out of his voice.
“Yes? He said lightly. The sly grin on David’s face was the only outward sign
of the coming bombshell. “Is your willie all big?”
Jean-Luc flushed and wanted to both cringe and glower but Beverly’s shaking
body as she tried to contain the laughter that wanted to bubble up was enough
for him to give a rueful grin. “As a matter of fact, David, yes, it is.”
“Thought so.” Said the sniggering boy. Without another word, he retreated back
into his bedroom, but not before Jean-Luc and Beverly heard him laughing as the
doors closed.
Beverly lifted her head and roared with laughter. It took only a few seconds
for Jean-Luc to join her. When she’d regained a modicum of control, Beverly
looked down at her lover and said, between fits of residual giggles, “Who are
you and what have you done with Jean-Luc?”
He hugged her and sighed, forgetting, if just for these few precious moments,
the deadly task ahead.
“I am, my lascivious lover, your paramour.”
“You’re more than that, my love...so much more. I love you, Jean-Luc. Somehow
you manage to surprise me just when I think I’ve got you all worked out.”
“Yes, well...worked out is one thing. Worked up...now that’s another thing
entirely and if you don’t remove yourself from my lap, worked up is exactly
what I’ll be...again.”
Giving him a parting kiss, Beverly rose and began to walk towards their
bedroom, but she hesitated and half turned, saying over her shoulder, “What
possessed you to work at your desk buck-naked anyway?”
He shrugged Gallically; throwing a wolfish grin. Beverly shook her head and
sashayed away, affording Jean-Luc a lovely view of her retreating backside.
“Oh, Beverly...I do so love you.”
 
To say that Jean-Luc had roused a hornet’s nest would be putting it mildly. At
first, nothing at all seemed to be happening, but he knew, working quietly and
diligently behind the scenes, armed with the information he’d supplied, some
very brave and dedicated people of high rank and completely trustworthy were
burrowing and digging, unearthing names, dates and events, in essence,
gathering all they would need to deliver a fatal coup de grâce to not only
section 31, but those individuals in Starfleet and on the Federation Council
who had corrupted themselves for their own gains.
Timing would be incredibly important. As the weeks turned to months, some
deeply hidden operatives within section 31 were trying to bring the ‘Ereban
situation’ to the forefront, trying to find a way to launch the mission they so
desperately wanted to commence, but as each mole, each corrupt individual was
quietly weeded out, so the power and influence of the section was weakened by
degrees.
All those involved in this clandestine war of attrition knew they would never
entirely rid the Federation of section 31, there would always be those who
either had an agenda or a different opinion on how the Council should either
function or on what to base its policies, but armed with what Jean-Luc had told
them, those who did the work of identifying the traitors and quietly removing
them had enough information and power to also circumvent events as far away as
Qo’noS where the Duras family, led by Toral were effectively muzzled and
negated. The new Chancellor and leader of the Klingon High Council was
Chancellor Mogh, a distant relative of Commander Worf, an old friend, ally and
former crewmember of the Enterprise who had immediately pledged his peoples’
unshakable allegiance to the Federation.
On the day Beverly announced to Jean-Luc that she was pregnant he had his first
unsettling experience. He had been ‘back’ five weeks and he had, through his
reliable contacts, made it so the Enterprise was a long way from Earth,
assisting in a terra-forming mission, one of many underway to help provide
liveable planets for the many refugees still seeking a permanent home since the
Borg incursion.
Even though he knew in advance what Beverly alluded to as her ‘surprise’ was he
was still delighted. They held a small celebration that night, Jean-Luc,
Beverly, David and Monique seated around the table as Beverly made her
announcement about her pregnancy. The children were guardedly happy, to be
expected, both parents knew, but when Beverly turned her dancing eyes on her
partner she was very disconcerted to see nothing but vacancy in his gaze. She
had to say his name three times, each time louder and with growing alarm before
he suddenly snapped out of whatever had taken him.
He blinked in surprise to see Beverly standing by his side, gripping his
shoulder hard, while David and Monique stood close by, holding hands and with
uncertainty and fear on their faces.
“Jean-Luc, are you all right?! What just happened?”
Scrambling to cover his fear and embarrassment, Jean-Luc summoned what he hoped
was a warm, unconcerned smile. “Oh! I’m sorry, Beverly, I was wool gathering.
When you made your announcement I was so happy, I was remembering the first
time...you know, when you told me you were pregnant with David. All those
wonderful feelings came rushing back. I suppose I was a little overwhelmed,
that’s all.”
Giving him a long, speculative look, Beverly decided to believe him. Lately
he’d been more demonstrative and relaxed with the children and their
lovemaking...she flushed and sighed with deeply satisfied happiness. Even his
dealings with the crew, the senior staff in particular had changed.
She was aware something very big was going on at command, perhaps even the
Federation Council itself and she had an inkling Jean-Luc was involved. Perhaps
that was at the heart of this...change he was undergoing. They’d both been
seeing the effects of ever increasingly unpopular policies handed down by the
council and discontent had been brewing quietly amongst the fleet, but as far
as she could tell, things were settling down. Those whom she relied on for
scuttlebutt had made it quite clear that things were ‘on the move’ and in the
right direction. All very cryptic as far as she was concerned, but reading
between the lines, Beverly got the unmistakable impression that whatever had
been blighting the organisation they served was either undergoing change itself
or was being eliminated. Either way, it seemed to be having a very beneficial
effect on her lover.
There was only one aspect of the whole thing that bothered her and that was
Jean-Luc’s reluctance to talk to her about it. Normally they discussed almost
everything. Yes, Beverly understood there were times when, as Captain, Jean-Luc
couldn’t discuss some aspects of his job with anyone below a certain rank,
despite their relationship and she had long ago accepted that, but this seemed
to be far too broad...too wide spread to be kept so secret and the very fact he
deflected her when she tried to talk to him about it, rather than simply tell
her he couldn’t talk about it only made her more concerned...and suspicious.
Still, his explanation of his lapse made sense, so Beverly dismissed it from
her mind. Jean-Luc, however could not. From the moment he’d ‘gone’ to the
instant he ‘returned’ there was nothing. No memory, no sound, sight, smell,
touch...nothing. It unnerved him and he had to admit, frightened him, but
unless he asked Beverly to examine him...something he was not going to do, he
was just going to have to accept it had happened and forget about it. And hope
like hell it didn’t happen again.
 
The encryption on the channel was the most secure Jean-Luc had ever
encountered. For the first time in his life as a captain, the normal protocol
of a voice identification and information of name and rank, followed by the
code of the day was insufficient. He had to supply a retinal scan, a palm scan
and a remote DNA read before the channel would open and even then it was
jacketed and scrambled within a sub space packet.
Having undergone such scrutiny, Jean-Luc breathed a sigh of relief and offered
a warm smile at seeing an old friend’s face.
“Jeremy! It’s good to see you.”
“And you, you old dog, Picard. Word’s just reached us. You’re going to be a
father again?”
Jean-Luc’s broad smile was justifiably proud. “Indeed I am.”
The grin on the Admiral’s face became decided lecherous. “If I had a partner as
beautiful and sensuous as yours, Jean-Luc, I’d be having kids all the time
too.”
Rolling his eyes, Jean-Luc tried to look annoyed at the puerile remark, but his
male pride had been stroked and even a man as urbane and sophisticated as Jean-
Luc Picard knew when to take his due. “Yes, well...can you blame me?”
“Ha!” his friend barked. “Gods, Picard, if I were you, I wouldn’t leave the
bedroom. How do you get any work done anyway?”
They chuckled for a moment or two before Jeremy sobered. “I have news my
friend.”
Sitting forward, Jean-Luc became all business. “Yes?”
The one word sent a spike of dread and remembered horror down Jean-Luc’s spine.
“Ereban.”
Jean-Luc remained silent, giving Jeremy no opportunity to soften his report. “I
didn’t believe it, you know.” He sighed. “All that intel you gave us, the scope
of duplicity between the council, section 31, the neighbouring planets and the
collusion of certain elements of Ereban’s own government...it seemed
too...despicable.”
He sighed again and shook his head. “But it’s true...all of it and it really
does go back as far as you intimated. 120 years, Jean-Luc! Over a fucking
century! How the hell did section 31, as a fledgling group as they were back
then, manage to orchestrate such a long-term plot? They must’ve known it
couldn’t come to fruition for years. And the warring neighbours? How much
interference from the Federation or section 31 was involved in their part? My
God...it beggars belief!”
Jean-Luc bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What about the
Ereban, Jeremy? Can they be helped?”
“I doubt it, Jean-Luc. This...accelerated evolution? It’s worse than even you
reported. They’re not dealing with three variances of their species, Jean-Luc,
but four or five.”
“And there’s no way to keep them separate?”
Shaking his head, the admiral’s expression was savagely angry. “No! With the
emergence of the lurin and their propensity for indiscriminate and prolific
breeding, it’s inevitable there’s going to be a blending...a melange...and no
one, not us or the Ereban themselves knows what the hell they’re going to
become! And, Jean-Luc...the inter-species the grumpy neighbours created? They
made lurin too. Those ‘operatives’ present on Ereban are just as programmed to
breed and as prolifically as the Ereban example of lurin.”
“God...what a mess! Still, it’ll be fairly quick, in evolutionary terms.”
Remarked Jean-Luc. “With the relatively short lifespan of the Ereban, the
outcome should become clear in one or two generations.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Jeremy grunted. Jean-Luc’s eyebrows rose.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, apart from the population explosion of the ‘new’ Ereban, it’s the DNA,
Jean-Luc. If the dominant strands were Ereban or even their neighbours, I’d
agree with you, but throw in human DNA and that changes the picture
significantly! Even their sexual practices are now more closely resembling
human than the old Ereban ways. They now have sex for pleasure and the ‘older’
example of the species is rapidly becoming infertile. It’s like some kind of
species selection at work.”
“But that sounds more like evolution in reverse. Surely the process, the
purpose of evolution is to improve not eliminate what is...or was...a perfectly
satisfactory species. What would be the point?”
“You tell me! And think about this. When this...process is over and the Ereban
are finished with their evolutionary changes, what then? They will have to deal
with the fact that they’ve been manipulated by foreign powers, both through
their own government in the way of the collusion with us and by biological
interference, again by outside influences. Despite us being able to rectify a
lot of what was to come, we can’t change what’s already taken place. The Typhon
Pact still exists, Jean-Luc and you can’t tell me that with the withdrawal of
section 31 and the support, albeit clandestine of the council, those
belligerent neighbours of Ereban won’t take full advantage.” He grimaced. “And
who could blame them? They know they’re not going to survive, even as a blended
species unless they’re successful with their plans for Ereban and its people.
With or without our help, that’s already in progress. It just remains to be
seen who gets the crumbs. Us or the Typhon Pact.”
“Jeremy...” Jean-Luc said wearily and with a trace of distaste. “Ereban isn’t a
prize to be fought over. Haven’t those people suffered enough? Why can’t we
show them honest good faith for once and protect them while they undergo their
changes. At the very least it’ll keep the Typhon Pact and the neighbours off
their backs while they deal with the repercussions of what’s been done to them.
And then they can have the luxury...no, the right to choose who they wish to
align themselves with...if they wish to be aligned with anyone at all. If I
were them, I’d be highly inclined to tell everyone within shouting distance to
fuck off!”
Jeremy blinked with surprise. Jean-Luc Picard rarely ever used profanities. It
was a sure measure of how deeply he felt about the entire situation.
“Well on the face of it, that’s a valid suggestion, Jean-Luc, but I’m not sure
how the council will take to it.”
“Provided the council is now free of the corruption that’s been within it for
so long, I can’t see how they can deny it.” Jean-Luc said quietly. “I suppose
we’ll never know whether or not Karl Noonien Singh acted on his own or by some
implanted imperative, but the fact remains we, the Federation, has been
involved in the interference of a species, not only in a political sense, in
direct violation of the Prime Directive, but from a biological standpoint and
for our own particular political gain! Now you described our actions over the
years as despicable and you’re quite right. What we have to do now is either
help by protecting them or leaving them alone. I think either way, we’ve done
enough damage to Ereban.”
“You’re right of course. I’ll speak to the right people...see what they have to
say, but the scope of this, Jean-Luc...the magnitude of what we’ve done...”
“I know, old friend. The old axiom...what’s done can’t be undone is true, but
we can help. How will be up to the Ereban and if we eventually lose our
relationship with them and the Typhon Pact does indeed take advantage of the
situation and absorbs the Ereban and their neighbours, well we’ll just have to
deal with that if and when it happens.”
“Agreed. Talk to you soon, Jean-Luc. Lerinn out.”
 
With section 31 all but destroyed, the mission to Ereban never took place. The
terra-forming mission kept the Enterprise out in deep space for two and a half
months and it was over that time that Jean-Luc made his slow but steady
recovery from the effect of his memories.
Now safe for them to return, at least into space closer to Earth, the great
ship was taking part in a much anticipated scientific study, something they’d
not done in over two years.
Jean-Luc had been working late, something he detested these days as it
prevented him from sharing dinner with his family and then helping Beverly bath
the children. He had developed the habit of reading to David and Monique each
night before tucking them in. As he kissed each child he felt how deeply he
loved and cherished them. Then, once they were asleep, he and Beverly relaxed
before going to bed, often to make love, albeit more gently these days as her
pregnancy progressed.
So it was late as he walked the corridors towards their quarters. The gentle
voice of Deanna Troi made Jean-Luc jump. He looked around in confusion, trying
to work out where he was and how he’d got there. Hunkered down in front of him
was Will, his open face clouded in an expression of concern and worry. Deanna
was kneeling in front of Jean-Luc, holding both his hands. “Captain?” she said
gently and obviously not for the first time.
“Yes.” He replied uncertainly. “What’s happened?”
“I was going to ask you, sir. Will found you in the corridor. You were just
standing still, unresponsive.”
Looking around in the dim light, Jean-Luc finally recognised where he was.
“Observation room, deck seven, port side.”
Deanna smiled, the relief in her eyes clear to see. “Yes, sir. But can you tell
me what happened? Do you remember, Captain?”
“Ah...no, Counsellor, I don’t.”
“What’s the last thing you do remember?”
Rubbing his fingers over his lower lip, Jean-Luc frowned. “I was...I was going
home. Yes...I’d had to work late and I was just getting off duty. I was
annoyed...I missed dinner with my family and helping Beverly bath the children
then read to them.” He smiled down at Deanna wistfully. “They’d be asleep by
now.”
“Captain...” He knew by her tone he was not going to like the question. “Has
this...” she waved her hand between them. “...happened before?”
He summoned a smile and made use of his ability to project a calm demeanour.
“Oh, no, Counsellor. Look, I just think I’ve been working a bit too hard,
that’s all. With Beverly being pregnant I’ve been taking on a bit more of the
domestic chores, you know, helping where I can. What with my recent experiences
with Q...I suppose I just got distracted.” He made his smile even more
engaging. “I do admit I am tired. I’m no spring chicken any more.”
Not convinced, but with no reason to not believe him, Deanna rose and let go of
his hands. “Well, Captain, I can’t say I have any professional reason to compel
you to undergo any testing, at least not from a psychological point of view,
but if I may, sir, perhaps it would be a good idea to have Beverly examine you?
You never did tell me the details of your recent experiences, it could be that
you were more affected than you realise.”
Jean-Luc rose and kept his smile in place. “I’m sure I’m fine, Counsellor, but
I will avail myself of my lovely partner’s attentions if I think I need to.”
Deanna knew that was all she was going to get, so she moved to give her Captain
a clear path to the door. Just as he was about to leave the room she said
quietly, “I will have to tell her, Captain.”
He turned; the smile still in place but now a little strained. “Of course,
Counsellor, I’d expect nothing less.”
As he resumed his journey to his quarters he thought darkly, “Shit! That’s all
I need!” The fear was back in full force.
 
Deanna indeed told Beverly of what had occurred and the next evening it was a
worried doctor who, after their children had been fed, bathed, read to and put
to bed that she brought the subject up. Jean-Luc had been expecting it and had
prepared what he hoped was a plausible excuse.
“So, Jean-Luc. Last night, on your way home, what happened?”
He adopted a puzzled expression. “Actually, I don’t know. I had been working
very hard; I know I was deeply preoccupied, I suppose I got lost in thought
again.”
Beverly’s look was speculative. “That’s twice in as many months, Jean-Luc.
Since when do you get so preoccupied that you lose touch with reality?”
“Oh...” said Jean-Luc waving the question away. “I wouldn’t go as far as that,
Beverly. I think that’s a little melodramatic.”
Annoyed by his casual dismissal, Beverly’s tone lost its gentleness. “Jean-Luc,
people...healthy people don’t experience lapses such as you’ve had. It just
isn’t right.”
He smiled, saying gently, “Not even people who have had an extraordinary...and
upsetting experience with the likes of Q?”
“An experience you still haven’t told me about. Look, Jean-Luc, if what he put
you through was so traumatic that you’re exhibiting mental lapses, then perhaps
you should talk to Deanna.”
He was shaking his head, forming the words to gently refuse when Beverly said
in a no-nonsense tone, “You either talk to her...and tell her everything...or I
order you down to sickbay where I’ll go over you with a fine toothed comb.
Every square centimetre of you, Jean-Luc, inside and out. Your choice.”
He tried not to glare but some of it leaked into his eyes. Beverly shrugged and
said evenly, “At least I’m giving you a choice, Jean-Luc. Be thankful for that
at least.”
Even though he was angry, he knew Beverly’s reaction was driven by her deep
love and concern for him. She was worried, but she was, to a point, giving him
the benefit of the doubt. As for a choice, he didn’t actually have one. If what
he was beginning to suspect were true, Deanna was his only option. He made an
appointment to see her first thing the following morning. Reluctantly.
 
 
Even though he had his mental barriers firmly in place, Deanna clearly sensed
his presence as he approached her office. It was a tip-of-his-hat to her that
he’d agreed to meet in her office. Usually he preferred to meet in his ready
room or more seldom, in his quarters. His territory, his advantage, albeit
subtle.
She could tell by the slight tightness in his shoulders and the glint in his
eyes, though well disguised, that he would rather be elsewhere, but that in
itself was nothing new.
Although they’d served together for years and he’d come to trust Deanna he was
still reticent when it came to discussing personal issues. That was something
he would only do comfortably and freely with Beverly.
So Deanna had prepared her strategy in advance. He appreciated directness, but
only to a point. This particular patient had to be approached very carefully.
Too much pushing and he’d shut up so tightly, no one would get in. Too soft a
touch, and he’d take advantage and dominate the direction of the session and
only reveal what he wanted to and not what he needed to.
Even though they were both well aware of this little pas de deux they indulged
in, the plain fact was, if Deanna deviated she’d get nowhere. So when he
entered to her gentle call, she felt she was ready.
“Good morning, Captain. Thank you for meeting me here, in my office.”
“Not at all, Counsellor, you’ve indulged me often enough. It’s time I
reciprocated.”
“Well,” thought Deanna. “A promising start.”
“Where would you like to start, sir?”
He sat, taking a short, sharp breath, Jean-Luc’s eyes hardened. “Actually,
Counsellor, I’d rather not start at all.”
“Ah, “thought Deanna. “Here we go, the parrying has begun.”
“Really, Captain? Given that it was you who made the appointment, I’d have
thought you were willing to be compliant.”
“My compliance isn’t the crux of the matter, Counsellor. I’m here because my
partner, acting as CMO no less made it abundantly clear if I didn’t make this
appointment, I would be doomed to submit to her not-so-gentle rummaging of my
entire body, inside and out.”
Offering a sympathetic smile, Deanna inclined her head. “Oh, I see. Well,
Captain, I can assure you, although my ‘rummaging’ will be as thorough as
Beverly’s...it won’t hurt.”
His face took on an expression not only had she never seen on him before, but
defied her ability to describe it. She was so concerned she leaned forward,
placing a hand on his knee and saying carefully, “Captain?”
He blinked and the expression vanished. He sighed and dredged up a wan smile.
“Won’t hurt, Counsellor? That would depend on what I tell you, wouldn’t it?”
Immediately on her guard, Deanna said softly, “What happened, Captain? What is
it you remember that causes you so much pain? Pain your trying so hard to hide
from me?”
Jean-Luc knew there was no way he could possibly tell her every detail of what
he’d experienced...what he’d been witness to. Not only to protect himself but
to spare her the horror of the future they’d only just managed to avoid. So,
gathering his courage, he gave her an abridged version up to the point where Q
first appeared. It was enough. Despite years of experience and professional
detachment, when Jean-Luc looked up, Deanna’s hand was covering her mouth and
tears ran down her cheeks. When she could, she said brokenly,
“Dear God, Captain. I’m so sorry. How...how did you cope with this for so
long?”
“I won’t try to tell you it was easy, Deanna, but I didn’t actually have an
alternative, did I? I can’t risk Beverly finding out, especially as she’s now
pregnant, the shock could do her or our baby harm. And as for telling you...”
he sighed and closed his eyes. “Remembering it hurts, Counsellor, it hurts in
ways I can’t adequately describe. So you see I was due for pain no matter what
I did.”
Again she reiterated, “I’m so sorry, Captain.”
“Don’t be, Counsellor.” His smile became a little stronger. “It never happened,
remember. But I do have the memories, which is ironic, don’t you think? It’s
like Kataan all over again.” He snorted and briefly closed his eyes. “So I
think the occasional ‘lapse’ on my part is understandable, nʹest pas?”
He’d never used his native tongue with her before and she was momentarily
thrown off. She didn’t actually understand the words, but she felt she
understood their context. As odd as it’d been for him to do it, she let it
pass.
“Yes, Captain, perfectly understandable.”
“So what will you say in your report?”
She smiled, letting him know Beverly would never be told the details of what
he’d revealed. “Only that you’ve undergone a traumatic experience and are
experiencing expected and understandable psychological after effects.”
He stood and the look in his eyes as he gazed down at the seated, petite and
pretty woman and friend was paternally warm. His deep, soft voice sent a shiver
through the counsellor. “Thank you, Deanna. I’m in your debt.”
Rising, she took his large hand, staring at it fixedly, so big in comparison to
hers and struggled to keep control of her emotions. He’d lowered his barriers
and she could feel his relief and gratitude now as well as the residue of his
remembered pain.
“No debts, Captain, not between you and me.”
His eyebrows rose as she went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. He smiled
again and left, leaving Deanna to struggle to find her equilibrium. She had
another appointment within the hour and she knew it would take at least that
long to recover.
As Jean-Luc strode with outward confidence to the lift he mentally wiped his
brow. “That was close, Jean-Luc. You’re going to have to keep tighter control,
old man.”
The trouble was, of course, he had no control over what had happened and he
didn’t know if or when it might happen again. Somehow he knew it would and
again, he felt dreadful fear.
 
Later that afternoon it was Beverly seated in Deanna’s office. Two steaming
mugs sat on the coffee table as a relieved Beverly sat back and closed her
eyes. “Thank God!” she exclaimed. “I was so worried, Dee.”
“Well, although I can’t go into details, I can tell you his ‘lapses’ are
perfectly normal.”
Beverly sat forward, picked up her mug and took a tentative sip before frowning
and saying, “I do wish he’d confide in me though. It’s so unlike him to not
tell me when something’s bothering him, especially when it’s something bad. I
mean I know if it’s a matter of security and he can’t, fair enough, but this
whole shift in the Federation Council...everyone knows about it and I know
Jean-Luc’s involved, albeit only on the periphery...at least that’s what my
info says, but even so, if so many people are blabbing about it, why isn’t he
talking to me? We always talk...share...”
Taking great care to choose her words judiciously, Deanna said, “Sometimes
there’re things that people just have to deal with on their own. It’s not a
reflection on his relationship with you, Beverly, it’s not about trust. Just
give him his due and let it go.”
Finally finding a smile, Beverly nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I don’t
tell him everything.”
“There you go.”
Both women giggled and Beverly drained her mug. She stood and was making her
way to the doors when Deanna asked off-handedly, “Tell me something though.”
“What?”
“Does the Captain often resort to speaking French with you?”
The blush that coloured the doctor’s face made Deanna grin. She knew the answer
simply by what she sensed from the embarrassed woman.
“Only when we’re making love.”
Keeping her smile in place, Deanna pressed a little harder. “No other times?”
Beverly began to pick up the subtly of the gentle interrogation. “Well he’s
teaching the kids, but other than that I’ve heard he’s said ‘merde’ once or
twice.”
To Deanna’s raised eyebrow, Beverly sighed irritably. “It means ‘shit’ and I
know he’s said it once or twice on the bridge.”
“I take it the circumstances warranted it?”
Through gritted teeth, Beverly said tightly, “I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t there.”
“But it’s only been once or twice over how long?”
“Why do you want to know?!”
Giving a nonchalant shrug, Deanna knew she could press no further. “No
particular reason, just curious.”
Calming herself, Beverly said in a more reasonable tone. “Ask Will. He’ll
know.”
“Maybe I will. See you at lunch tomorrow?”
“Yep! Usual table in the forward lounge.”
“Okay, bye.”
Once Beverly had gone, Deanna sat and thought. “Yes, Will. Good idea, Beverly.”
 
The last thing Will expected as he relaxed after dinner was the odd question
his lover posed.
“Will,” said Deanna off handedly, as they sat together on the sofa, feet up and
enjoying a brandy. “How many times have you heard the captain use French?”
“What?” Said the confused exec.
“You heard me.” Deanna’s tone had changed and Will noted the unmistakable trace
of professional concern. Now serious, Will answered as best he could. Anything
to do with his captain, especially where it came to his well being Will took
very seriously.
“Okay...um...I’ve heard him say...ah...merde; I think is how it’s pronounced. I
asked Data, you know years ago what it meant and he told me it means...”
“...shit, yes I know that, but what I want to know is how many times he’s done
it and if he’s ever used any other words...examples of his native language?”
Will frowned and took a long sip, baring his teeth as he swallowed. “Well, he
used to say it a bit in the early years on the ‘D’ but he sort of stopped. In
fact, I’ve not heard him use any French at all since those days.”
In the ensuing silence, Deanna’s expression was closed. Will knew better than
to ask, but he did anyway. “Is there a problem?”
The counsellor sighed and took a moment to plex. “No...not exactly.”
“Then why do I get the impression you’re worried about the captain? Does it
have anything to do with that thing, you know...that ‘lapse’ thing?”
Deanna looked into Will’s eyes for the first time and his own worry increased.
“What is it, Dee?”
She sighed and took too large a sip, making her swallow too quickly, her eyes
tearing and a cough dredged up. When he’d regained her breath, she grimaced.
“That’s just it, Will,” she said in a brandy-roughened voice. “I’m not sure. I
get the feeling something’s not right, but I can’t pin it down. It’s not one
thing, but a few small things that are making me...” she shook her head,
irritated she couldn’t properly articulate her concern. “Look, just put it down
to intuition.”
Will’s eyebrows rose. “Intuition?” he said with some disbelief. “You’ve never
relied on intuition, Deanna; you have your empathic senses. Why stoop so low as
to try and utilise your human side?”
It had been intended as a joke, but Deanna didn’t find it at all amusing. She
shot her lover a glare and said tartly, “If you paid more attention to your
captain, maybe I wouldn’t have to ask these inane questions and this
situation...whatever it is, may have been picked up a long time ago!”
Will allowed a few moments before he said, “That was uncalled for.”
Deanna seemed to deflate before his eyes. She tipped her head back and drained
what was left of the brandy. After waiting a few seconds for the initial effect
to wane, she sighed and said softly, “I know and I’m sorry, Will. I guess I’m
just not used to being unable to sort something like this out.”
“You can’t sense him?”
She offered a rueful smile. “He has phenomenal control, Will. Even when I first
came aboard the ‘D’ he was good at hiding his inner self, but after that mind
meld with Sarek...” she sighed again, closed her eyes and slumped back on the
sofa. “What he learned from that man...these days he has honed his metal
discipline to a point where I can barely sense him at all. If I sense anything,
it’s only what he wants me to get.”
“But you think something’s wrong.”
“I don’t know!” Deanna’s frustration had made her raise her voice. She placed a
placating hand on Will’s thigh and gave him an apologetic smile. In a softer
voice she said, “The captain underwent a very traumatic experience with Q. Now
that alone would be enough to make anyone behave...oddly. And, although I can’t
give you any details, I can tell you it was traumatic enough to expect him to
exhibit...‘lapses’ both like you saw and other forms of odd behaviour for some
time, but I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this than meets
the eye.”
“So...” Will asked cautiously, “what can you do?”
“Now that’s the gold pressed latinum question! If I keep too close an ‘eye’ on
him, he’ll know immediately and react badly. If I make my concerns known to
Beverly, she’ll haul him down to sickbay and examine down to his molecular
level...for which I will get the blame. God, Will, even if I say something
innocuous, really oblique like...Beverly, have you noticed anything different
about the captain lately? Is going to raise a red flag!”
Will shrugged and finished off his brandy. He leaned forward and picked up the
bottle, putting in another generous measure. He only offered to refill Deanna’s
balloon as a gesture of good manners and he was very surprised when she nodded.
She picked up her glass and took what could only be described as a swig. It
made her cough and her eyes stream. Will was amused and worried at the same
time. Keeping his tone non-committal, he said, “Surely Beverly’d notice if
anything was wrong?”
Having found her voice again, as she wiped away her tears, Deanna said, “Under
normal circumstances, of course she would. But she’s pregnant, Will and the two
of them have David and Monique to look after too. I think it’s a mixture of her
preoccupation with the kids and the changes that occur in a woman’s brain
during pregnancy that’s not blinding her exactly, but making her less aware.”
The big, bearded man slowly nodded. “Yeah, and the captain’s not going to say
anything either, is he.”
“Not on your life!” Deanna snorted. “True to form, he’d keep anything about his
health to himself until he was forced to admit to Beverly that he needed help
and that is even more true now, ‘cause he’d want to protect her from any
external worry during her pregnancy.”
“Then all you...we...can do is sit back, watch very covertly and wait.”
“Yes, and I don’t mind telling you, Will, it’s driving me nuts!”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her to him. After
taking a long sip of brandy he whispered, “Welcome to your human side, Dee.”
“Shut up, you insufferable...Earther! When I finish this dreadful liquor I’m
going to bed and I expect you to accompany me.”
His eyebrows rose again, but a lecherous grin lurked. “I take it you’re in need
of some ‘stress relief’?”
“You know damned well I am! This...” she held up brandy filled the balloon.”Was
a deliberate ploy on your part to illicit a sexual response, just as you knew
it would.”
“True,” Will grinned wolfishly. “But it did work, didn’t it?”
Offering a soft grunt, Deanna gulped down the remaining liquor, rose on
unsteady legs and made her way to the bedroom, coughing the entire way. Will
chuckled softly and swallowed what was left of his drink, loosening his shirt
as he followed his lover. “Happy days.” He thought, all concern for his captain
vanishing as his erection hardened.
 
Beverly was heavily pregnant when the next odd thing happened with her partner.
She was only two days from her due date and she and Jean-Luc had been down to
sick bay to finalise the birthing procedure. Beverly had opted for an assisted
delivery, although she did want to do some of the work herself. Their children
would be present and she would utilise the birthing chair, rather than a biobed
or the water delivery suite. Because of her age, it had been decided that
should she encounter any problems at all, the baby would be beamed out.
It had been a very long day. Being so large and with the constant interruption
of nocturnal toilet visits, Beverly wasn’t sleeping well and as a result,
neither was Jean-Luc. Added to that was the very intricate and delicate
negotiations he was embroiled in with yet another Federation world who were
reassessing their membership. Jean-Luc was rising early; doing what he could to
help Beverly with the children before spending not only all of his normal
shift, but hours extra in his efforts to keep the recalcitrant world within the
Federation fold.
So it wasn’t surprising that he’d dozed off on the one night he’d managed to
get home at a reasonable hour. It was just after dinner and the children were
off, preparing for their bath. Beverly had filled the tub and had come back
with a naked David and Monique to get their father, only to find him asleep at
the table.
David was climbing onto his father’s lap when the man’s eyes snapped open only
to have him say curtly, “Quʹest-ce que vous pensez que vous faites?”
David froze, not fully understanding what his father had said. The universal
translator had been turned off in their quarters so that the children could
learn French, but neither was good enough quite yet. And there was his tone,
which was cold and angry as was his expression. Beverly, however, understood
every word.
“What do you mean, what the hell are you doing? He’s getting on your lap so you
can piggy back him while you carry Monique! Their bath’s ready.”
He lifted David off his lap with obvious distaste, then turned his cold eyes on
Beverly, saying tightly, “Vous madame, êtes-vous responsable des ces
enfants...? Parce que je troure leur comprtement inacceptable!”
Beverly’s mouth gaped as she gathered their confused children to her. David
said quietly, “Maman, what’s wrong with papa?”
Instead of answering the boy, Beverly stepped forward and grabbed Jean-Luc’s
shoulder, shaking it hard while saying loudly, “Jean-Luc! Wake up!”
He glared up at her, snarling, “Lâcher une femme ou moi je vais...”
Anger warred with alarm as Beverly said loudly, “Unhand you or you’ll what,
Jean-Luc? Wake up, for God’s sake!”
The man suddenly blinked and looked around in confusion. “What? Where?”
Kneeling awkwardly at his legs, Beverly took his hands and said gently, “Look
at me, Jean-Luc.” He did so and seemed to focus on her. “Beverly?” he said
tentatively.
She smiled. “Yes. It’s all right, Jean-Luc, you were dreaming, that’s all.”
“I don’t...” He was going to say that he didn’t remember, but caught the words
before they left his mouth. “Oh! Yes...” he said. “I was...”
“In France, obviously.” Chuckled Beverly. “And not at all used to children.”
Seeing the disconcerted look on his son and daughter, he smiled and opened his
arms wide. “Seeing as how you’re both unclothed, I take it it’s bath time.”
Monique giggled and climbed up on one leg. David however was a little
reluctant. “It’s all right, mon jeune fils, everything’s all right.”
Still not completely convinced, David nevertheless climbed up onto his father’s
back, but as the man rose, hugging Monique, David whispered, “Papa?”
“Yes?”
“Can we not speak any more French for a while?”
Feeling a pang of deep guilt, but not remembering what’d caused it, Jean-Luc
readily agreed. “Of course David. You let me know when you want to start
again.”
“Thank you, papa.”
 
Later in bed, barely awake, Jean-Luc heard Beverly say, “That must’ve been some
dream, Jean-Luc. I mean, asking David what the hell he was doing then telling
me to unhand you and then asking me if I was responsible for the kids as you
found their behaviour unacceptable! God, if you hadn’t been dreaming, I
would’ve slapped your face.”
He swallowed to wet his suddenly dry mouth. “Yes, well that’s the thing with
dreams, isn’t it? In any case, I’m sorry.”
“Mmm. ‘Night.”
“Bonsoir, maman.”
As he drifted off he didn’t realise he’d once again lapsed into French and
called Beverly, mum. Fortunately Beverly was already asleep.
 
The birth of their precious little girl was uncomplicated and Beverly was able
to give as much input as she wished. Jean-Luc delivered their daughter under
Selar’s watchful eyes while David and Monique looked on, David with mild
disgust, Monique with excited wonder. The parents decided to name her Giselle.
Over the next few weeks, all went well, but on five separate occasions,
fortunately each instance in his ready room while he was alone, Jean-Luc
experienced more lapses. He only knew they’d occurred by the simple fact that
he’d taken the precaution of placing a small, discreet chronometer on his desk
and by merely glancing at it he knew instantly how much time had passed during
each episode.
His fear turned to dread as she realised the lapses were growing longer. He
knew he should do something...say something, but Beverly was so taken up with
the new baby and the children were relying on him more and more as Giselle took
up increasing amounts of Beverly’s time, he convinced himself that whatever it
was, it would pass. No, no need to worry an already very busy new mother.
This type of denial, this self-delusion was uncharacteristic for Jean-Luc,
usually a man to tackle most things head on but he’d been so affected by what Q
had shown him, he pushed it all as deeply into the recesses of his mind as he
could. If this...whatever it was had anything to do with that, he didn’t want
to know.
Somehow he kept his growing problem hidden, but there were some close calls.
His explanations, when he’d been discovered were becoming thin, his
plausibility losing credibility. Now that Giselle was four months old, Beverly
was back at work part-time and had reverted to her old self, sharp as a tack
and less likely to be hood-winked. So when she tackled her partner and not very
subtly over a report he’d been seen sitting in the forward lounge seeming ‘lost
in thought’ Beverly was none too pleased.
He knew the futility of even attempting an excuse. Quite simply, he’d run dry.
So instead he took Beverly’s hands and stared into her eyes. “Beverly, my love,
we need a holiday.”
Wrong footed, Beverly frowned and said warily, “What?”
“You heard me.” He said with a warm smile. “Since Giselle’s birth we’ve been
flat out, you with work and the children, me with work and doing what I can to
help. Why don’t we take a break...a long break?”
“How long?” Beverly was still suspicious; Jean-Luc wasn’t exactly the ‘holiday’
kind.
“Five months.”
“Five months?!” Beverly almost shouted. “Jean-Luc...what the hell...?”
His enthusiastic expression sobered. “I’m tired, Beverly. With all that’s been
going on with the council, then Giselle’s birth...” he sighed. “I’d like to get
away for a while...just us as a family.”
“Well...” said Beverly, slowly warming to the idea. “It would be nice. When?
When do you think we can get away?”
“Soon.” Jean-Luc said firmly. “There’re still some things I must do,” he made a
vague gesture with his hand. “...to do with the council, but two, perhaps three
weeks?”
“Okay,” Beverly agreed. “But Jean-Luc...this council business. Can you...will
you...tell me about it? I mean the rumour mill is full of it yet you’ve chosen
to say nothing, at least not to me.”
The hurt in her voice caused him physical pain. Taking her hands, He said
softly, “Once we’re on holiday, I’ll tell you what I can, all right?”
Knowing he had gone as far as he could, or would, Beverly nodded. “Okay. So two
or three weeks then? I’d best get busy tying up some loose ends.”
“Yes, me too.”
 
Two days later, Jeremy Lerinn made another call to the Enterprise. This time
the man was in a far better mood.
“I had a very interesting call from Bacco’s secretary.”
“Really?” replied an intrigued Jean-Luc. “The Federation President’s private
secretary called you?”
“Indeed he did. And guess what he had to say?”
“I’ve no idea.”
Jeremy leaned forward his dark green eyes twinkling. “The Tholian Ambassador
wishes to meet.”
Jean-Luc had shifted forward in his seat too in an unconscious movement. “To
what end?”
“Apparently things aren’t all that sweetness and light within the Pact. With
the collapse of the Ereban situation and the weeding out of the traitors here,
not to mention removing the teeth from section 31, the Pact has been
effectively weakened. Those worlds that seceded? The ones the Pact hoped would
join them? Seems quite a few are reconsidering Federation membership. And
Ereban. They’ve made peace with their neighbours, Jean-Luc. We’re now looking
at...well, maybe not exactly unified, but certainly a much stronger entity. I
doubt anyone’s going to be forcing them into anything they don’t want without
one hell of a fight. Of course the Pact knows this and it’s another loss to
them. Now, as you know there are six core members of the Pact. The founding
members are the Tholian Assembly. The others are the Gorn Hegenomy, the Holy
Order of Kinshaya, the Romulans, of course, the Tzenkethi Coalition and the
Breen Confederacy. Now as I understand it, the Tholian ambassador is
representing five of the six, the odd man out are the Tzenkethis. They
vehemently oppose any relations with the Federation.”
“And what of Ereban? Any contact?”
Jeremy shrugged. “No, but we’re hoping they’re not a lost cause. With their
new-found strength and autonomy, they might, one day, forgive us, but my gut
feeling is that they’ll sit pat for some time. They have the whole evolution
thing to deal with first. Like you said, it’ll be at least two, maybe three
generations until anyone knows what they’re going to be and I guess that’ll be
the deciding factor. If they feel they can look after themselves, I doubt we’ll
ever hear from them again.”
Jean-Luc sighed. “It’s such a pity you know, Jeremy. The Ereban are...or were a
decent people...even given the obvious flaws in their society.” He gave Jeremy
a piecing look. “And that’s not unique to Ereban, is it.” Jeremy had the good
grace to look embarrassed.
“No.” He replied softly. “No, it’s not.”
Jean-Luc frowned, doing his best to keep his frustration and anger at bay.
“What’s been done to them...” he sighed again and decided to move on. Dwelling
on things he couldn’t change helped no one. Jean-Luc’s fingers were rubbing his
lower lip. He took a deep breath and changed focus. “And just what kind of
relationship is the Tholian ambassador proposing?”
“Now that I don’t know, nobody does. I guess we’ll just have to wait and hear
what he has to say, although I seriously doubt it’ll be the proverbial olive
branch. More like a mutual non-aggression deal.”
“Yes,” agreed Jean-Luc wryly. “Until they can either recruit more worlds or
come up with something that gives them the upper hand.”
“Uh huh. Anyway, this is basically a heads-up. All Starfleet ships have been
notified that any Typhon Pact ship encountered is to be treated as a potential
‘friend’ at least not as an automatically presumed enemy.”
“Except the Tzenkethi.” Jean-Luc qualified.
“Yes, except the Tzenkethi.”
“Who we know next to nothing about.” Groused Jean-Luc. “God, Jeremy, we barely
know what their ships look like, let alone what kind of weaponry they possess.”
“I know. As far as you space jockeys are concerned, you’re going to have to
play it by ear, my friend.”
“Hmph!” Jean-Luc grunted. “Well I suppose that’s better than nothing.”
“It would be if not for one last detail.”
Sighing, Jean-Luc suddenly felt very tired. “And that is?”
“Marauders. We’ve had some reports, so far isolated, but growing that some of
our ships have been harassed by marauders.”
“Presumably Tzenkethi.”
“Yep.”
“Wonderful.”
Both men sat in silence for a few long seconds before Jeremy said mildly,
“I saw your request for leave. Might be a good time to take it, Jean-Luc. Keep
your head down until things settle.”
“I received permission this morning, Jeremy. Beverly, the children and I will
be leaving in two and a half weeks.”
“Not a moment too soon. Well, I’ve got work to do. Enjoy your leave, old
friend, you’ve deserved it. Lerinn out.”
 
Jean-Luc sat back, his mind turning over the situation. That was until he
blinked and, disoriented, tried to understand why he felt cold and
uncomfortable. It was the smell that gave it away.
With disgust and dismay, Jean-Luc looked down to see his trousers wet with
urine. He gasped softly before grimacing. He looked at his little time piece
only to see he’d been seated at his desk for over seven hours. The last thing
he remembered was thinking about...what? With panic rising he struggled to
bring to mind what he’d been doing.
He woke his monitor and said shakily, “Computer, display last use of this
monitor.”
“Warning. The last use of that monitor was for a level 5 communiqué. Please
input proper authentication current for level 5 encryption.”
It was the mention of the height of the security that brought the much wanted
information to Jean-Luc. He sat back and sighed, then grimaced again at the
strong, acrid smell and the clammy discomfort. He rose stiffly and went to his
private bathroom, taking a quick shower and replicating a clean uniform. One
final look at his chronometer told him it was very late. No doubt he’d have
some explaining to do. He had, some time ago, agreed with Beverly that he would
contact her if he was going to work late.
 
His quarters were in darkness when he entered. Having first checked on his
children, he went into the en suite off the master bedroom to change, not
wishing to disturb either the sleeping Beverly or the baby, still in the
nursery. For reasons he would never discover, once naked, instead of putting on
a pair of sleep shorts and going to bed, he went to the basin, picked up his
isorazor and that’s where he found himself next morning with Beverly gently
prising the device from, his fingers. He was shivering and had urinated again.
He turned his head slowly, looking at Beverly with obvious incomprehension. She
somehow kept her alarm under control and said gently, “It’s okay, Jean-Luc.
You’re okay.”
David, standing just inside the bathroom, said with fear, “It’s happened again,
hasn’t it.”
Instead of answering, Beverly said, “Would you get my medkit and papa’s robe,
please, David?”
The lad was just re-entering the en suite when the red alert sirens sounded. It
seemed to bring Jean-Luc back, as he blinked and said curtly, “Report to your
station, Beverly! I’ll get to the bridge.”
Before she could stop him, he was putting on the same uniform he’d taken off
only hours before. He was out the door and gone in mere moments.
Will rose from the centre seat and pointed with his bearded chin at a small
image displayed on the activated forward viewscreen.
“Can we identify it?” asked Jean-Luc curtly.
“No, sir.”
“I take it we’ve hailed the vessel?”
“Yes, sir, all that did was make it increase speed and alter course to
intercept.”
“And there was no reply.”
“No, Captain.”
Taking his seat and gesturing for Will to do the same, Jean-Luc crossed his
legs and gazed at the fast-approaching ship.
“You’ve read the intel on the marauders?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, it’s a good bet that’s...”
Will looked at his Captain to see the man was staring at nothing. Frowning and
swearing softly under his breath, Will said quietly, “Captain?”
Behind him, at tactical, the lieutenant said tersely, “The bogey’ll be within
weapons range in twenty eight seconds, Commander. Shall I bring our weapons on
line, sir?”
“Just wait a minute!” barked Will. A little louder, loath to embarrass his
Captain on his own bridge, Will said, “Captain!”
The lieutenant’s voice easily carried her growing alarm. “Sir, their powering
up their weapons and they’ve locked on to us!”
With a last ditch effort, Will grabbed Jean-Luc’s upper arm and said loudly,
“Captain Picard! Orders, sir?”
He’d waited a fraction too long. As the tactical officer reported, “They’re
firing!” Will shouted, “Shields to maximum!”
Too late. The blast impacted on the secondary hull, shattering the duranium and
ripping an ugly gaping hole.
“Evasive manoeurvres! Target that damned ship and give it everything we’ve got.
Fire at will!”
The Enterprise took several more hits, making her shudder violently and yaw,
but ultimately she out manoeuvred and outgunned her opponent. Dead in the
water, the still unidentified craft sat venting drive plasma and listing badly.
Will, wiping absently at a trickle of blood from a wound near his eyebrow, said
grimly, “Open a channel. Hail them.”
“Channel open, sir.”
“Unidentified ship, you have engaged in an unprovoked attack on a Federation
vessel. Prepare to be boarded. I intend to...”
The blast of total annihilation made everyone on the bridge squint to protect
their eyes. The ship rocked violently as the shockwave hit them. In the sudden
quiet, the young officer at the con said incredulously, “They self-destructed.”
“Confirmed, Commander.” Said the tactical officer. But Will had lost interest.
He was kneeling beside the pone form of his captain, sprawled on the floor.
Jean-Luc had been thrown from the command chair during the battle but had
remained unresponsive. As Will called for medical assistance, tactical said
quietly, “I have the casualty list, sir.”
Will looked up, his usually genial face grim. “Let’s hear it.”
“Thirty-eight injured, three dead. And Commander? One of the dead is Commander
LaForge.”
Will’s eyes closed in wrenching pain just as the turbolift doors opened.
Beverly hurried down to the deck in front of the command chair, fearing the
worst. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief as her tricorder registered Jean-
Luc’s uninjured state. He was beamed straight to sickbay.
 
 
 
 
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