The Essence of Anger

The Essence of Anger

Status: Finished

Genre: Fan Fiction

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Fan Fiction

Summary

Picard, Crusher and their young family are sent on a mission. Disaster strikes requiring a very high price to be paid to restore what's gone so terribly and horrendoulsy wrong.

Summary

Picard, Crusher and their young family are sent on a mission.
Disaster strikes requiring a very high price to be paid to restore what's gone so terribly and horrendoulsy wrong.

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Essence of Anger

Author Chapter Note

Picard, Crusher and their young family are sent on a mission. Disaster strikes requiring a very high price to be paid to restore what's gone so terribly and horrendoulsy wrong.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 28, 2012

Reads: 700

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 28, 2012

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 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 thin


© Copyright 2018 Heather Smyth. All rights reserved.

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