Confessions From The Edge Chapter 4

Confessions From The Edge Chapter 4

Status: Finished

Genre: Fan Fiction

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Fan Fiction

Summary

Same as chapter 1

Summary

Same as chapter 1

Chapter1 (v.1) - Confessions From The Edge Chapter 4

Author Chapter Note

Same as chapter 1

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 03, 2013

Reads: 270

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 03, 2013

A A A

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Having heard so much about her future self, Beverly wasn’t sure what to expect when she rematerialised on the surface, but the business end of a type five phaser pointed at her head wasn’t high on her list. She slowly raised her hands and stood still while the older woman circled her with a scanner. It wasn’t until she said,

“You seem to be unarmed”,

 That Beverly lowered her hands. While the older Beverly studied the readouts on her scanner, Beverly took the opportunity to have a good look at herself. Obviously several years older, that didn’t account for the streaks of grey in her dull hair, or the lines that had appeared on her face. Weight loss had given the woman a gaunt image and her once straight shoulders were stooped. The younger Beverly’s eyes settled on the older woman’s hands and she almost winced. They were red and chapped and gnarled, no longer capable of the delicate surgery they once did with ease. Beverly’s eyes travelled up, only to find the older woman was looking at her with deep suspicion. Her brusque question left nothing to the imagination.

“What is Isabelle’s message?”

Beverly’s eyes hardened and she made sure her voice was steady.

“Stop what you are doing and return to Federation space.”

With a snort, the older Beverly gestured with the phaser.

“That’s it? Well, you’ve delivered your message, now you can leave.”

Shaking her head, Beverly took a step closer to the older woman.

“Isabelle is very worried about you.”

The sound of the power setting being raised reached Beverly’s ears. The older Beverly’s eyes showed nothing but madness.

“She always was a worrier. Now, are you going to leave, or am I going to vaporise you?”

Showing boldness she didn’t know she possessed, Beverly said quietly,

“Like you did to Loran?”

Anger flashed across the older woman’s eyes.

“She got what she deserved!”

Shaking her head slowly, Beverly said softly,

“No one deserves to be tortured then killed and left to rot.”

The sudden screech made Beverly flinch.

“She killed Jean-Luc!”

Steeling herself against the woman’s insanity, Beverly kept her tone soft.

“Perhaps she did, but she should have answered for that in a court of law.”

Now beyond reason, the older Beverly began to sob brokenly.

“Do you know what she did to Jean-Luc? She tortured him! I only did to her what she did to him! It was an eye for an eye! She deserved what she got!”

Beverly stepped a little closer and said quietly,

“And now you would kill me. How many more, Beverly? How many more must die before you see what you have done?”

The older Beverly suddenly snapped her mouth closed and glared.

“What I have done? I haven’t done anything…yet.”

Beverly moved closer still.

“But you’re going to, aren’t you. You’re going to wipe out an entire species to try and ease your guilt.”

In a broken whisper, the older Beverly managed,

“What are you talking about? What guilt?”

Beverly smiled sadly.

“The guilt you can’t bear to admit to. The guilt that comes from knowing you caused Jean-Luc’s death.”

Staggering backwards, the older Beverly shook her head.

“No! Jean-Luc was getting reckless; he was taking all the dangerous missions…that’s how he came to cross swords with Loran. She killed him, not me!”

Keeping her voice low and steady, Beverly was remorseless.

“Why do you think he was being so reckless? Why do you think he ignored the warnings of friends and former shipmates and took on those dangerous missions? I can tell you, if you like, but you already know, don’t you.”

The older Beverly suddenly raised the phaser and screeched,

“Leave or die!”

Knowing she could not be reasoned with, Beverly quickly tapped her comm. badge.

“Computer, one to beam up!”

As Beverly rematerialised on the shuttle, she took a large breath and ran her hands over her body. She wasn’t certain, but she got the distinct impression the phaser had been fired as she beamed up. If not for the fact that she had lost molecular cohesion at the time, she might well be dead.

She went straight to the cockpit and monitored the older Beverly from orbit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For over an hour the older Beverly stayed where she was, at the beam down point. Beverly could only surmise she was taking time gaining control of herself again. Eventually she moved off and went back inside her facility. The scanner in Beverly’s pocket had taken some very detailed readings of the older woman and Beverly knew she was desperately in need of sleep. Deciding to take advantage of that, Beverly formed a plan to infiltrate the lab that very night.

With only a few hours before the planet’s nightfall, the younger woman set about inputting instructions into the computer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rather than beam down, Beverly landed the shuttle about two kilometres from the facility. Being a very modern craft, she was able to deploy camouflage that made the vessel absolutely invisible to the naked eye and well hidden from sensors and scanners. Dressed in black clothing and with her backpack over her shoulder, Beverly left the shuttle and set off into the thick foliage.

She wasn’t surprised when her modified tricorder detected the presence of booby traps. Utilising the deactivator she’d been given, she moved cautiously closer until she came to the south wall of the building. There was a door, magnetically sealed and alarmed. It was the work of mere minutes to deactivate the alarm and override the seal. There was an exchange of atmosphere as the door opened and, perhaps too late, Beverly realised she might be dealing with a sealed environment, tainted with airborne particles. Having already breathed the new atmosphere, Beverly reasoned she may as well continue.

Her hope was to destroy the facility after having made her older self see reason. To that end, she intended to set the charges before going in search of the older Beverly.

She had only gone approximately ten metres into the building when a cold voice stopped her in her tracks.

“You are persistent, aren’t you.”

Turning slowly, Beverly raised her hands, knowing she had a phaser in a flat holster near the nape of her neck.

“I wanted to talk to you. How did you know I was inside?”

Waving the phaser towards a door, the older Beverly ushered Beverly into a new suite of rooms. Inside there was scientific equipment and several large sealed analysis cubicles.

“My sensors detected your biological signal the instant you stepped inside.”

The younger Beverly looked around and nodded.

“You seem to be very well set up.”

With a snort, the older woman gestured for Beverly to sit on a nearby stool.

“It took everything I owned…and then some…to get all this…but I am close. I should have what I want within the week.”

The younger Beverly sighed.

“And then what? You go to Kelora, deploy your weapon and annihilate millions?”

The coldness with which she answered sent a chill down Beverly’s spine.

“Yes.”

Keeping her voice soft and even, the younger Beverly said softly,

“They don’t deserve it. The Keloran you hated is gone, why kill all the rest? It makes no sense.”

Her faded blue eyes glassy with insanity, the older Beverly grinned, but it was more like a rictus, a parody of her usual lovely smile.

“They are all the same, the Kelora. Who’s to say another one won’t decide to torture and kill another Federation Ambassador? They are a blight, a cancer in the universe and I intend to eliminate them.”

Steeling herself for another mad outburst, Beverly said quietly,

“You would kill them all to ease your guilt? Every Keloran must die because you can’t face what you’ve done?”

Predictably, the older Beverly raised the phaser with a shaking hand.

“I’ve already told you…Loran killed Jean-Luc! Not ME! I couldn’t have killed him…I…I loved him.”

Nodding slowly, Beverly almost smiled.

“Yes you did, but did you ever tell him? Did you ever give him any inkling of how you felt? Or did you hide and use him mercilessly. You did, didn’t you. You used him to satisfy your sexual needs, never once letting him show you how much he loved you. You knew though, didn’t you. You knew, you knew how much it was hurting him, how every time you left his quarters after making him fuck you, you all but stabbed him in the heart.”

The phaser began to waver as tears welled in the older woman’s eyes.

“How do you know all this?”

With tears in her own eyes, Beverly’s lip trembled as she whispered,

“Because I am you.”

The older woman shook her head in disbelief.

“No…”

Beverly nodded.

“Yes. I have been sent from the past to make you stop.”

Still shaking her head, the older Beverly’s voice trembled.

“But how...?”

“The Department of Temporal Investigations.”

The older woman sneered.

“Not Section 31?”

The younger Beverly shrugged.

“They may have some involvement, I don’t know.”

Seeming to rally, the older woman dragged herself upright and her grip on the phaser tightened.

“It makes no difference. I will do what I have set out to do, regardless.”

Younger Beverly’s eyes darkened.

“You mustn’t! Can’t you see what you intend is unconscionable?  What happened to your Hippocratic Oath? First and foremost, Beverly…Do no harm!”

The woman screeched,

“They killed Jean-Luc!”

With her hands still raised, Beverly gripped the butt of her phaser. Keeping her voice steady she said softly,

“No they didn’t, Beverly…you did.”

With a scream of rage, the older Beverly lifted the phaser, spittle flying from her mouth as she screamed,

“Fuck you! I don’t care who you are, I will kill you anyway!”

The younger Beverly didn’t give her a chance to press the trigger. She whipped the phaser from its holster and fired. The older woman was hit in the chest. Younger Beverly knew by the setting that it was a lethal blow. Flung backwards, the older Beverly hit the wall and bounced off, coming to lie sprawled on the floor at younger Beverly’s feet, quite dead.

The phaser in her numb hand fell and clattered onto the floor as she dropped it. Shocked out of her stupor, Beverly quickly went around the room, vaporising all the biological material she could find. She then set the charges throughout the facility, took one last look at the body, and then left, making the journey back to the shuttle with no trouble. Once inside she went to the cockpit and, after a moment’s hesitation, pressed the switch that would send the signal to the explosives to detonate. She then left the cockpit, staggering into the day area, where she collapsed in a chair, lowered her head into her hands and began to weep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It occurred to Beverly, as she made the journey back to her point of origin, that she should look in on Isabella and Helen, but such was her desperate need to get back to her own time that she eschewed her new friends, opting instead to sending subspace messages. It was a long trip, almost seven weeks and because she didn’t know the name of the planet she sought, she had to rely on the computer to get her there. She had found the computer to be a good companion, but where it came to her mission, it was reticent, to say the least, in offering information.

But her enforced ignorance, coupled with her longish journey proved to be beneficial. It afforded her the time she needed to get what had happened into its proper perspective. Yes, she had killed and yes, she had, in effect, killed herself, but it had been necessary. If her older self had been allowed to live, millions would have died. That was simply not permissible. Had Beverly been able to reason with herself, make her see the insanity of what she intended, perhaps it would have ended differently, but the woman was too far gone. Overcome with hidden guilt and overwhelmed by crushing grief, the older Beverly had descended into madness, lost to all who had once known her.

Yes, her death had been, in a way, inevitable. What Beverly had to do now, was get back to her time and repair what she had wrought with Jean-Luc. And so she spent the weeks of her journey coming to terms with what had happened and her part in it, eventually becoming impatient to get back to the Enterprise to right a terrible wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was the old Admiral who greeted Beverly when she finally disembarked from the shuttle. He smiled his gentle smile, knowing by the look in her eyes that she had successfully completed her mission. That, however, didn’t mean she didn’t have to be debriefed. She endured eight very uncomfortable hours being very thoroughly grilled by the Admiral and his staff. It was with heartfelt relief that she was finally told to go to her assigned quarters for the evening, but she would only go once they told her she would be returned to her proper time the next morning.

She slept little that night and was showered and dressed when the mysterious woman she had previously encountered came to her quarters to escort her to the transporter.

Once again she was greeted by the elderly Admiral. He took her hand and smiled.

“I will be seeing you again…soon.”

Beverly returned the smile and asked,

“How much time will have passed?”

The old man shrugged.

“I cannot be sure; you’d better ask that question again once you’re back where you belong.”

In silence, Beverly nodded and lay down on the bed. Before the hypo was administered, the Admiral said softly,

“You have performed a great service, Doctor. We thank you…we know it must have been very difficult.”

Before Beverly could respond, the hypo was pressed against her neck and everything melted away.

When she next opened her eyes, the Bolian Captain took her hand, gently encouraging her to rise. Feeling a little groggy, Beverly got up from the bed and immediately noticed there were more people in the room. Standing to one side was the old Admiral and another woman. As the Bolian Captain kept a steadying hand on Beverly’s arm, the Admiral stepped forward and held out his hand.

“Welcome back, Doctor Crusher.”

Beverly smiled, but couldn’t keep the impatience out of her voice when she asked,

“How soon can I return to the Enterprise?”

The gathered officers shared an uncomfortable look and the Admiral sighed.

“That may not be possible, Doctor.”

Alarmed, Beverly snapped,

“Why the hell not?”

The Admiral dismissed the others with a look, took Beverly’s arm and led her in silence from the room. He said with a smile,

“I take it you would like to be restored to your former self?”

Beverly returned the smile and nodded, quelling her irritation.

“Yes.”

“Then come with me.”

The procedure took some hours and it was a tired Beverly who met again with the Admiral.

 They travelled down some corridors and eventually entered the conference room Beverly remembered from her previous visit. She was ushered to a chair and waited while the old Admiral seated himself, but anger was beginning to surface, making her tone sharp.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

The Admiral frowned.

“About what?”

Keeping her voice even with difficulty, Beverly said firmly,

“About me returning to the Enterprise.”

His tone was patient and conciliatory.

“Ah, that.”

He sighed, his face falling as he shook his head.

 “There are some things you need to know.”

Now clearly furious, Beverly barked,

“Like what?”

Admonishing her with a stony look, the Admiral calmed himself and sighed.

“Ten months have passed, Doctor. Your position on the Enterprise has been very adequately filled by Doctor Selar; it would be unfair to ask her to take a demotion in position to allow you to return as CMO.”

Thinking quickly, Beverly all but blurted,

“Then I won’t go back as CMO, I will take a position as a staff Doctor.”

The old man sighed again and Beverly got the distinct impression he was trying to shield her from something. She took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds before expelling it slowly.

“What ever it is…just tell me.”

The Admiral looked deeply into Beverly’s eyes and spoke very softly.

“Captain Picard is engaged to another woman.”

Shocked to her very core, all Beverly could do was whisper,

“What?”

With a deep sigh, the old man explained.

“After you left, Captain Picard suffered a psychological breakdown of sorts. He was relieved of duty to take indefinite leave to recover at a mental health facility. While there he developed a relationship with his therapist. Once he was discharged and deemed fit for duty, he was reinstated as Captain of the Enterprise. After some weeks he requested the therapist be assigned to his ship where their relationship blossomed. He proposed to her five weeks ago.”

Still whispering, Beverly asked,

“Who is she?”

Trying to ease her pain, the Admiral asked gently,

“Does it matter?”

Beverly lifted her head and said with firmness,

“Yes, it does.”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“She is a Vulcan psychiatrist named T’Krel.”

With a frown, Beverly shook her head.

“A Vulcan?”

The Admiral nodded.

“Yes.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Beverly stood, gathering her ravelled thoughts and trying to salvage her dignity.

“If it’s alright with you, Admiral, I would like to take some time off…I need to reassess my options.”

He stood and offered a sympathetic smile.

“Of course, Doctor, take as much time as you need.”

As Beverly turned to leave, she hesitated and turned back. Lifting her chin defiantly, she said with an impassive voice,

“I don’t want Captain Picard to know I am back, or anyone else, for that matter.”

The old man bowed his head.

“It will be as you wish, Doctor. We are in your debt.”

Having left the room, Beverly was escorted from the building and taken by shuttle back to Starfleet Command in San Francisco. She stayed only six hours and tried to make sure no one saw her. She was there only long enough to organise passage to Caldos.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T’Krel was satisfied with her position on the Enterprise. Being one of Deanna’s staff, she found the job of Counsellor on such a large ship to be quite gratifying, although being a Vulcan, she did not actually feel gratified, rather she felt nothing at all. But it was satisfying. She was finished for the day, it was late and she was on her way back to her fiancé’s quarters. She found her life mate to be intriguing for a human. His mind was highly analytical, he was honest and honourable and he was not held hostage by his emotions, at least not under normal situations. He had suffered a psychological breakdown, but even so, during his extensive therapy, he had regained control to the point where he completely clamped down on all of his emotions. It had taken T’Krel some time to get him to feel again.

His proposal had come as a surprise, she was unaware he harboured romantic feelings for her. She was aware they had become remarkably close, both during his long therapy following his breakdown and later, when she had been assigned to his ship. Their sexual relationship was satisfying, that he was so accomplished was a pleasant surprise, but that too had been unexpected. Secretly, she was pleased he had the ability to surprise her. Her last mate had been rather…stolid…even for a Vulcan. His death had left T’Krel feeling somewhat…dislocated. It had taken many years for that feeling to dissipate, but she had never considered taking another mate, mostly because she was too engrossed with her work.

She was fully aware of the reason behind the Captain’s breakdown and was also fully cognizant that deep down he still pined for his lost love, but he had come a long way, far enough to bury his grief and wish to go forward into the future with her as his new love.

Love. What an interesting concept. From a human point of view, it was perhaps the most defining emotion of the human condition. A human without love was considered to be incomplete. But from a Vulcan point of view it was a nonsensical manifestation which did little but cloud the waters of perfect thought. She did not love Jean-Luc, nor would she ever, but she did care for him and found him suitable as a candidate for a long term relationship. When he had proposed marriage, she almost declined, but she knew two immutable things. One: a refusal would hurt him. Two: she would outlive him by decades. Weighing up these facts tipped the balance and she accepted. She was pleased to see he took her acceptance with grace and little emotion. Yes, he was suitable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The doors to his quarters sighed open and she entered to find the rooms in darkness. By the light of the pin pricks of starlight outside she saw him sitting in his favourite chair by the viewports, a tumbler of rich amber liquid in his right hand.

In her customary silence she crossed the room and took her seat opposite him. His gaze never wavered from the stars but he smiled and said softly,

“It’s late, you must be tired.”

Adopting his soft tone, T’Krel agreed.

“You are correct; it has been a long day.”

His eyes finally moved to settle on her.

“Would you like a drink?”

She shook her head.

“No, thank you.”

He nodded and sipped, closing his eyes as he swallowed. She sensed his melancholy and tilted her head.

“You are…grieving. Still.”

He smiled, but it was a sad smile.

“I have my moments. I know it is selfish of me, but sometimes…I just can’t help it.”

T’Krel shrugged.

“It is very human of you, Jean-Luc.”

His smile grew.

“So you approve?”

“I neither approve nor disapprove. If you feel this way, you should express it. As long as you do not dwell on your…grief…then I believe it is acceptable to recognise it.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while before Jean-Luc took a deep breath and tossed back the remainder of his drink. When he smiled, it was with warmth.

“Have you eaten?”

T’Krel shook her head.

“No, I have not.”

He rose, holding out his hand.

“Neither have I. What’s say I get us some dinner? Perhaps you would like to shower?”

Knowing she liked to shower before she went to bed, T’Krel offered a small smile and took his hand, coming to her feet.

“That is acceptable…thank you.”

To make him feel more comfortable, T’Krel was making an effort to be more…human. She used gestures and phrases that humans would and she knew he appreciated her kindness.

They ate a nice meal, a mixture of human and Vulcan dishes, read for a while, then retired for the night. She knew when he caressed her face when he kissed her that he wanted sex. She also knew she did not need the emotional tie of romance and he seemed to accept this. He aroused her proficiently, bringing her to orgasm several times before he penetrated her, but even so, she tempered her responses, her true sexuality was too intense for any human to experience. She knew he craved some sort of emotional connection, but she was unable to provide it. To his credit, he never showed his pain as they had sex and in truth, their sexual life was satisfying, but T’Krel knew something was missing, something she was simply unable to find in herself.

She allowed him to hold her afterwards, although what she wanted to do was get out of bed to go to the bathroom to clean herself, but she knew he needed this physical closeness, so she permitted it. He would soon sleep, allowing her to leave the bed without disturbing him. His mumbled comment, however, caught her by surprise.

“We should set a date.”

She frowned in the darkness.

“For what?”

She clearly heard the smile in his voice.

“For the wedding.”

“Is there a time constraint?”

He sighed.

“No, but it is customary.”

She sighed.

“I see. Well, I will be very busy for the next four months, and you have to negotiate the trade agreement with the Grizzellas, then the Enterprise will be returning to Earth for the upgrades.”

Jean-Luc rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

“Well what about a small ceremony on Earth? Or would you prefer Vulcan?”

She thought for a few seconds, the shook her head.

“No, Earth will be sufficient. What is entailed?”

“In the ceremony?”

“Yes.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

“Human wedding ceremonies can be very elaborate, or very simple. It depends on what the couple want.”

T’Krel gave a short nod.

“I see. Is there a religious component?”

Jean-Luc idly scratched his cheek.

“Again, it depends on the couple. The ceremony can be religious or secular or both.”

“What is you preference?”

He sighed.

“To be honest, a small, secular ceremony with as few people as possible would suit me, but if you wish for something more elaborate…”

She shook her head.

“No, I think something simple will suffice. Why does there have to be other people there?”

Jean-Luc smiled.

“Because there has to be an official to conduct the ceremony and at least two witnesses.”

T’Krel nodded.

“Ah, yes, I believe I am aware of that. The…Best Man and the…?”

“Maid of Honour.”

“Yes, the Maid of Honour. Who chooses these people?”

Jean-Luc chuckled.

“The male, known as the Groom, chooses the Best Man and the female, known as the Bride, chooses the Maid of Honour. Traditionally, one chooses one’s best friend to fulfil the duties.”

T’Krel sighed.

“I have no…best friend.”

Raising himself up on one elbow, Jean-Luc frowned down at his fiancée.

“Do you not have one special female friend? A childhood companion or a colleague perhaps?”

She shook her head.

“No.”

In exasperation, Jean-Luc ran his fingers over his lower lip.

“Well, what about here on the Enterprise? Is there no one you work with that you feel could do the job?”

There were several seconds of silence before T’Krel said quietly,

“Commander Troi.”

Jean-Luc closed his eyes and flopped back onto the mattress. He sighed.

“That may not be a good idea.”

Confused, both by his reaction and by his comment, T’Krel shook her head.

“Why?”

Instead of answering her, Jean-Luc pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Forget it. Let me talk with her first. All right?”

Still confused, T’Krel let it go. She waited until Jean-Luc gently kissed her and fell asleep, before she left the bed to go to the bathroom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was the end of the day shift and Deanna was looking forward to knocking off. She planned a long bath, a light meal and an early night. She was just entering the last of her notes into the computer when she became aware of someone at her door…and not just anybody, it was the Captain. Curiosity warred with irritation as she composed herself and waited for the door to chime. She made sure her voice was light as she bade her caller to enter.

“Hello, Captain, what brings you here?”

Knowing his Counsellor was less than pleased with him, Jean-Luc appreciated her making the effort to be civil.

“Hello, Counsellor…I was wondering if I might have a word with you?”

The only outward sign of Deanna’s tension was a slight tightening of her jaw.

“Of course, Sir. How can I help?”

Silently asking permission to sit and receiving a nod of acceptance, Jean-Luc made himself as comfortable as he could under the circumstances and summoned a smile, which didn’t reach his eyes.

“You are aware that T’Krel and I are to be married.”

Deanna nodded, her obsidian eyes glittering.

“Yes, Sir.”

Unfortunately she couldn’t keep her disapproval from her voice. Jean-Luc sighed and shook his head.

“You still can’t accept my relationship with her.”

Schooling her features, Deanna struggled to maintain a professional demeanour.

“It isn’t a matter of acceptance, Captain. It is more like my wanting what’s best for you.”

Jean-Luc’s eyes darkened and his voice became deceptively soft.

“And you think my relationship with T’Krel isn’t what’s best for me.”

Holding his gaze boldly, Deanna said softly,

“No, Sir, I do not.”

Anger permeated Jean-Luc’s being, but he had known Deanna a very long time…known her and trusted her. He let out a long breath and tried to calm himself.

“Why?”

Exasperated, Deanna clasped her hands and lowered her head.

“We’ve been over this, Sir.”

Jean-Luc was beginning to struggle to keep his voice down.

“And I have already told you, T’Krel and I did not form our current relationship until she was assigned to this ship! And she is no longer my therapist.”

Deanna lifted her head and speared Jean-Luc with an uncompromising look.

“But you admit you were attracted to her while she was your therapist.”

Sitting back in his chair, Jean-Luc attempted a nonchalant air.

“You know I was.”

With a snort of irritation, Deanna sat back and crossed her legs.

“And you can’t see any problem with that?”

“No.”

Suddenly uncrossing her legs and sitting forward, Deanna said harshly,

“And you don’t think it’s significant that you chose for a mate a woman incapable of showing you love and affection, especially after what happened between you and Beverly?”

Immediately on his feet and with his hands fisted by his sides, an outraged Captain shouted,

“How dare you!”

Keeping calm and trying her best to remain unintimidated, Deanna looked up and said softly,

“I dare because I know what you went through. Captain, your grief and heartache after Beverly disappeared were so severe you suffered a psychological breakdown so profound that you were confined to a medical facility for intensive therapy! Now I admit you have made a remarkable recovery and, under different circumstances I would applaud your efforts to get on with your life, but in choosing T’Krel you have made a grave error in judgement.”

Jean-Luc paced across the room twice before he calmed himself enough to retake his seat. He took a steadying breath and said very softly,

“I love her.”

Deanna bowed her head, shaking it slowly.

“You may think so, Sir, but I doubt you really do. You had a relationship with Beverly that nearly destroyed you. It was cold and unfeeling, the exact opposite of what you desired and when it ended you were left feeling bereft. Then, after months of acrimony and unresolved issues, Beverly disappeared, never to return and you fell apart. Now, almost a year later you have recovered enough to resume your captaincy and to go forward with your life, even to the point of looking for a life partner…but Captain, look carefully at whom you’ve chosen. A Vulcan. A woman of a species who pride themselves on their lack of emotions! She is by her very nature, cold and unfeeling. Does that remind you of anyone?”

His dark eyes glittering, Jean-Luc barely kept control of himself.

“You are accusing me of deliberately choosing a mate to what…punish myself?”

Deanna looked into his eyes with deep compassion.

“You still grieve, don’t you.”

Some of the tension left the man and his eyes showed his fathomless sadness. He whispered,

“Yes.”

Deanna left her seat to kneel at his knees. Taking his hands she tried to see under his lowered brow.

“It’s alright to grieve, Captain, but you need to see the truth of what you have done.”

He looked up and there were tears in his eyes.

“You don’t think we can be happy?”

With a sad sigh, Deanna shook her head.

“No. Maybe for a few years, perhaps, but ultimately your enduring love for Beverly will eat away any affection you now feel for T’Krel.”

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Jean-Luc gathered himself and wiped away his tears. He straightened his shoulders and looked down at the petite woman.

“I have to try, Deanna.”

Her own eyes welling with unshed tears, all Deanna could do was nod sadly. Jean-Luc cleared his throat and summoned a wan smile. In a lighter tone he said softly,

“T’Krel would like you to be her Maid of Honour.”

As Deanna smiled, two tears slipped down her cheeks.

“It would be a privilege. Who will be your Best man?”

“I thought I’d ask Will.”

Her smile genuine, Deanna nodded.

“He’ll be very pleased.”

Jean-Luc stood and turned to the door, but before it could open, he turned back and said softly,

“I have to try, Deanna. The pain is slowly killing me.”

Deanna stood and nodded.

“I know, Captain, I know.”

He left and as the doors closed, Deanna sat down and tried not to sob.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To recover himself after his visit to Deanna, Jean-Luc went to the Arboretum. He knew if he returned to his quarters upset, T’Krel would insist on knowing why and he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. So he found a seat in the Arboretum and quietly composed himself. It was an hour before he felt he could return to his home.

He was greeted by his fiancée and she allowed him to kiss her. They shared an aperitif, then sat down to their dinner. Jean-Luc was pensive, not ignored by the woman.

“You are troubled.”

Offering a small smile, Jean-Luc sighed and laid down his cutlery. He gave T’Krel a long look and frowned.

“Do you see our relationship being a problem, seeing as how you were my therapist?”

With typical Vulcan bluntness, T’Krel replied.

“No. If I did I would not have allowed it.”

Unconvinced, Jean-Luc shook his head.

“But it does fly in the face of standard patient/therapist protocols.”

She looked up and frowned.

“Only if we had become involved while you were still my patient.”

Jean-Luc sat back, a wry smile in place.

“Did you know I was attracted to you while I was your patient?”

Sighing, T’Krel put down her cutlery and gave Jean-Luc an uncompromising look.

“You know I was not aware of it.”

She lifted one perfect eyebrow.

“But why are we discussing this? We have already gone over this at some length.”

Taking the time to wipe his mouth with his serviette, Jean-Luc gathered his thoughts.

“I spoke with Counsellor Troi this evening.”

T’Krel offered little reaction.

“And she still disapproves of our relationship.”

Rather than tell her the complete truth, Jean-Luc merely said,

“Yes.”

T’Krel sighed.

“That is unfortunate.”

With a nod, Jean-Luc managed a smile.

“Yes it is, but she did agree to be your Maid of Honour.”

The Vulcan frowned.

“That is illogical.”

Chuckling, Jean-Luc sat back and shook his head.

“Yes, it is.”

T’Krel gave Jean-Luc a hard look, and then resumed eating.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beverly only spent two weeks on Caldos. Not even her old friend, Governor Maturin knew she was on the planet. She had herself beamed into her late Grandmother’s cottage from the transport ship that had brought her and spent the fortnight holed up in its rustic interior. She didn’t even venture out into the garden. The tangle of herbs and other medicinal plants grew in massed profusion, desperately needing a loving hand to weed and prune, but Beverly only peered at them through the window.

After the first three days she roused herself and went on a cleaning spree. She scrubbed, dusted and polished until the little cottage gleamed. Then a sort of torpor set in and she took to her Grandmother’s chair and sat in complete silence, stirring only in the evening to climb the stairs to bed. This lethargy lasted almost eight days before it slowly lifted and she began to be able to once again think.

“I have to get over this. He’s moved on with his life, I should do the same.”

Moving to the kitchen, she put the kettle on. While it heated, Beverly sat at the kitchen table and considered her options.

“Well, I’m a Doctor, I can work any where I want. The thing is…do I want to remain in Starfleet?”

She sighed and rose slowly to fill the teapot with boiling water. While the tea brewed she sighed, getting out a cup and some milk. It wasn’t until she poured the brew that she realised it was Earl Grey. Stifling a cry of anguish, she tossed the liquid down the sink and then lifted her hands to her face.

“I can’t do this…I miss him…I want him…”

She found a seat and plonked down, tears streaming down her face. Through her sobs she wailed,

“What am I going to do without him?”

A sudden realisation settled over her. She lifted her head and gasped.

“Oh God…this is how it must have started with the other Beverly. She couldn’t handle it and went mad. Is that what’s going to happen to me?”

She gave it some thought and shook her head.

“No! Her Jean-Luc was dead, mine is still alive.”

She slapped her hand down on the table.

“So do I fight for him or not?”

She stood and stalked into the living room. Glaring at the embers in the fire, she stooped, grabbed a poker and savagely shoved at the embers, bringing them to life. She then put some wood on the fire and watched dispassionately as the flames took hold. As she came to her decision, she gritted her teeth.

“No, I won’t fight for you Jean-Luc. You have moved on, I shall do the same, but it won’t be with Starfleet. This has to be a clean break; I never want to see you again. It would be too painful…for both of us.”

With a decisive nod, Beverly went to the home’s computer and called up the visiting ship’s schedules. Within ten minutes she had booked passage to Gault. Her next chore was to tender her resignation. It wasn’t as painful as she thought it was going to be. As she pressed the send key she sat back and took a deep breath.

“My new life begins today.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The months had passed relatively quickly. Jean-Luc had mediated the talks and the Enterprise was on her way to Earth. It was late in the ship’s night and Jean-Luc and T’Krel had just made love. As usual, T’Krel was permitting Jean-Luc to hold her afterwards but Jean-Luc felt her barely concealed tension. He sighed, let her go and rolled onto his back. In a rough grumble he muttered,

“You don’t like me to hold you afterwards.”

T’Krel had no wish to hurt her partner, but she wouldn’t lie to him.

“It is not what I prefer.”

He sighed again.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Staring up at the ceiling, T’Krel had to think about it before she answered.

“I did not wish to hurt your feelings.”

There was silence between them for a little while before Jean-Luc asked quietly,

“How many other things have you kept hidden to spare my feelings?”

She turned to face him in the darkness and said softly,

“What does it matter?”

He rose up on his elbow.

“It matters to me. I want our relationship to be based on honesty, not denials or hidden agendas.”

T’Krel sighed.

“I am not denying anything, nor do I have any hidden agendas. The reason I have been…less than forthcoming, is simply because of the inherent differences between us. You require a modicum of physical closeness. I do not, however that does not mean I can’t allow you what you need. To do otherwise would be both selfish and cruel.”

Jean-Luc lay back down and sighed.

“You always seem to be holding back…like you are hiding something from me when we’re having sex.”

T’Krel sighed.

“You are correct, I am holding back. Vulcan sexuality is far too intense to be experienced by a human, even one as proficient in sexual matters as you.”

Jean-Luc frowned. He’d just been complimented, but he felt like he’d been insulted. He turned his head and when he spoke, he tried to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

T’Krel shook her head.

“You would be unable to judge anything if I unleashed my inner sexuality.”

His hurt gave way to curiosity.

“How so?”

Sitting up, T’Krel went to leave the bed, but Jean-Luc gently grasped her arm.

“I want to know.”

She shook her head.

“That is not possible. For you to find out what it is like would put you in danger. I will not permit that.”

He let her go and, as she exited the bed, he followed her.

“You said you have no hidden agendas. What about your sexuality? How long were you going to hide that from me?”

She detected the slight anger in his voice and stopped, just inside the bathroom door.

“I was not hiding it from you, Jean-Luc. I deliberately held it at bay to protect you. There is a difference.”

Not convinced, Jean-Luc shook his head.

“When two people who care about each other make love, it is supposed to be with equality and honesty, not with one hiding from the other. I don’t know about you, T’Krel, but I am at my most vulnerable, both physically and emotionally when I make love. I would hope you felt the same, that you trusted me as I trust you.”

The Vulcan sighed and lowered her head.

“It is that trust that I wish to preserve, Jean-Luc. What would you think of me if I injured you? How would that equate to honesty and equality? Please believe me; Vulcan sexuality is too intense for humans.”

She entered the shower, leaving Jean-Luc to mull over her words. Some minutes later she re entered the bedroom to find him sitting up in bed, the side light on. His eyes followed her naked body as she crossed the room and got into the bed. She was beautiful. Lean and graceful with ample breasts, he found her very attractive. She knew he was watching her and she sighed.

“You are not going to give up on this, are you?”

He shook his head, but offered a small smile.

“No.”

She sighed. Jean-Luc took her hand and said quietly,

“I want to experience what you feel.”

She frowned.

“That is illogical; you cannot experience what I feel.”

His smile grew.

“Not literally, no, but I want to experience what your full sexuality is like. I want to see…and feel…for myself.”

T’Krel looked long and hard into his dark hazel eyes and eventually sighed.

“You realise you are putting yourself in danger?”

His smile became a grin.

“You have my permission to call Sick Bay if you need to.”

She frowned.

“It won’t be for me, it will be for you.”

He shrugged.

“So be it.”

“And when did you envisage this taking place?”

He lifted a hand and gently caressed her breast.

“What about now?”

Surprise registered in her dark eyes.

“You are…capable?”

He leaned to her and softly nuzzled her neck, whispering,

“If I receive enough…stimulation, then yes, I think I can…rise to the occasion.”

A human woman may have laughed. T’Krel merely nodded. She turned to him, her eyes smoky.

“Then let us begin.”

At first Jean-Luc noticed nothing out of the usual. T’Krel was attentive and skilful at arousing him, but as time passed and he spent more and more time arousing her, he noticed that her skin was becoming hot; in fact when he pushed his fingers inside her he almost winced. He was suckling her nipple as he used his fingers inside her when she suddenly arched up from the bed and grabbed his wrist. As she rolled him over, the bones in his wrist broke, but before he could register the pain she had impaled herself on him. He cried out as the searing heat enveloped his penis. Her grip settled on his shoulders and she squeezed mercilessly as she rode him. He tried to keep up with her, grabbing her hips and pushing up into her as hard and as fast as he could, but she was oblivious. She leaned forward, suddenly pressing his shoulders down into the mattress with such force that she separated his collar bones. He cried out again but her grip only increased. Internally her vagina clamped down on him, each time she slid up his shaft it almost tore his penis from its root. Helpless and lost Jean-Luc came in a frantic wave of pain and ecstasy, but T’Krel wasn’t aware of his climax. Gripping him ferociously inside and out she rode him, her head craned back as a low scream began to emerge from her throat.

Overwhelmed with pain and sensation, all Jean-Luc could do was howl, his hands gripping her and trying to slow her down, but T’Krel was lost in her ecstasy. Suddenly her grips increased to unbearable proportions and she came, her greenish tinged skin almost glowing with a lustre Jean-Luc had never seen before.

There was an incredible pressure on his penis and, even though it was by now semi flaccid, he felt the head tear. He cried out and tried to lift T’Krel from him, but her grips were too strong. Wave after wave of pulsations swept through her body, a long continuous scream deafening him.

He lost consciousness. His next recollection was the soft voice of a man, whose voice he didn’t recognise. He cracked his eyes open and realised he was in pain. He tried to say something, but all that came out was a low groan. The bed dipped as someone pressed a hypo against his neck. He tensed, but the hiss of the device heralded the relief of his pain.

He opened his eyes and frowned. T’Krel was sitting next to him on the bed and there was a man with a tricorder scanning him. Jean-Luc raised an enquiring eyebrow and T’Krel said softly,

“This is Doctor D’Arcy. He is treating your injuries, but you will have to present to Sick Bay for further treatment.”

Jean-Luc nodded, then turned his attention to the Doctor, saying huskily,

“What is the damage?”

The Captain noted that the young man was a little pale.

“You have a broken right wrist, both collar bones have been separated from your shoulder joints and you have two tears to the glans of your penis. Also there is damage to the muscles at the base of your penis.”

The Doctor could tell by his CO’s stoic look that privacy was very important. He cleared his throat and offered a small nod.

“I will be very discreet, Captain. I can repair some of these injuries here, but you do require extensive regen therapy in Sick Bay.”

Summoning his voice, Jean-Luc was annoyed to find it gravelly.

“Fine. Will tomorrow be all right?”

The medic smiled wanly.

“Yes, Captain, although some of your injuries will be…uncomfortable during the rest of the night. I have given you an analgesic, but it will need to be repeated in six hours.”

T’Krel offered,

“If you leave a hypospray here, I can administer it.”

Shaking his head, D’Arcy frowned.

“That is not really permissible, Sir.”

Jean-Luc tried to sit up and failed. Taking a deep breath he looked the Doctor in the eyes.

“You said discretion was assured. Surely you can see by allowing Lieutenant T’Krel to administer the pain killer, you are maintaining that discretion.”

Somewhat intimidated by his Captain, D’Arcy relented. He sighed and nodded.

“Very well, Captain.”

He turned to T’Krel.

“No more than one dose between the hours of oh five hundred and when he reports to Sick Bay at oh eight hundred.”

T’Krel bowed her head.

“As you wish, Doctor.”

The young man stood and risked his Captain’s displeasure by saying with a glint in his eye,

“No more sex…for tonight.”

Both Jean-Luc and T’Krel remained silent until he left. Jean-Luc made himself comfortable in the bed and watched as his fiancée took off her robe and joined him. She sighed and looked deeply into his eyes.

“I apologise for injuring you, Jean-Luc.”

He shrugged.

“I wanted to find out what it was like. Now I know.”

She smiled and inside Jean-Luc sighed. As T’Krel settled down to sleep, Jean-Luc looked at the ceiling and thought,

“I think I prefer human sexuality.”

He muttered,

“Lights out.”

But as he was drifting off, a stray thought intervened.

“I wish her eyes were blue.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


© Copyright 2017 Heather Smyth. All rights reserved.

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