Title: Mithras

Author: Whoa Nellie (whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com)

Series: TNG

Rating: NC-17

Codes: P/V, C/Chakotay, R/T, crew

Summary:  Very, very loosely based on some of the concepts in the movie Nemesis.  A shake-up in the Romulan Empire threatens the Federation with the crew of the Enterprise as its only defense.

 

Author's notes:  This story was originally posted to ASC May 25, 2008 and occurs in the Reasons of the Heart timeline where there are no babies and Crusher is married to ship's anthropologist Commander Chakotay.  Feel free to archive to any pertinent site.  The screenplay for the movie Nemesis was written by John Logan from a story by John Logan, Rick Berman and Brent Spiner.

 

As always: Paramount owns all the marbles, we just have a lot more fun playing with them.

Feedback is always appreciated - posted or e-mail.

 

Whoa Nellie's Picard/Vash Romance Fan Fiction website is at:

http://geocities.datacellar.net/TimesSquare/Galaxy/7926/

 

Whoa Nellie's Sci-Fi Romance Fan Fiction website is at:

http://geocities.datacellar.net/whoa_nellies2000/

 

MITHRAS

 

                Captain Jean-Luc Picard sat in his ready room onboard the U.S.S. Enterprise-E.  Sipping from a cup of Earl Grey tea, he casually perused the multitude of routine status reports  in front of him.  Everything and everyone on his ship was working at peak efficiency; life was quiet for the moment.  He enjoyed these times knowing that they wouldn't last long.  The communications system activated and Riker's voice interrupted his peace.

 

                'Captain, you have an Alpha Priority communication from Starfleet Command.'

               

                He sighed and set his cup down.  "Acknowledged, put it through."  He tugged on his uniform jacket and sat up straighter before activating the viewscreen.

 

                Admiral Nechayev appeared on the screen with an almost pensive expression on her face.  "Jean Luc, good to see you.  How are things there?

 

                "Admiral, good to see you.  Vash was just mentioning that she hadn't spoken with you in a while so why don't you come out and see how things are for yourself?" he suggested casually.  His relationship with Alynna Nechayev hadn't always been pleasant, but since Vash had befriended the Admiral, their encounters had become downright friendly and he found himself enjoying her rare visits.

 

                "I wish I could," she said.  "Please give my regrets to your wife, but I was actually contacting you for a mission.  How would you like to take another trip to Romulus--with the Enterprise this time?"

 

                Picard was intrigued; he leaned forward in his chair and studied the admiral's face on the viewscreen for some hint of the current situation.  "With or without the rest of the fleet?"

 

                "Without," Nechayev replied.  "It's actually a diplomatic mission.  We've been invited, believe it or not.  It seems that there's been some kind of internal political shakeup.  The new Praetor has requested a Federation envoy, specifically you, to establish diplomatic relations with the new leadership."

 

                "New Praetor?" he echoed.  "I hadn't heard anything about a shift in Romulan politics.  Do we know what happened to the last Praetor?"

 

                She shook her head, no.  "What we do know about the new Praetor is that he's Reman.  Believe me, we don't understand it either.  The invitation asked that you rendezvous with a warbird in the Bassen Rift and be escorted to Romulus for the meeting.  I don't have to tell you what the consequences would be for the rest of the quadrant if the Empire de-stabilizes politically.  We've made some in-roads diplomatically through the Dominion War and the recovery of the Praetor's Fasces, so hopefully this invitation is a positive development.  We'll be trusting you to make an assessment of the situation there during your visit."

 

                Picard nodded curtly.  "Understood, Admiral."

 

                "I'm sending you all the intelligence we have, but it's not much.  I don't need to tell you to be careful, Jean Luc."

 

                He gave her a tight smile.  "Not with the Romulans."

 

                Before she ended the transmission, she shot him a wink.  "And be sure to tell Vash to behave herself."

 

                "I'm sure she'll try," he chuckled back.  "She always tries."  Once the channel had been closed, he sat back and swore softly to himself in French.  The peace and quiet was definitely over.

 

.........................................................

 

                The Enterprise was already enroute to its meeting with the warbird and Picard was the first one in the conference room for the briefing that he'd called.  Settling into his chair, he watched his senior staff  filter in and take their customary seats around the table.  He'd thought about bringing Vash into the briefing to provide what she knew about Remans, but Commander Chakotay could provide the limited cultural information that existed about them just as well.  He had talked to her after he'd stopped by to ask Chakotay to prepare a briefing on Remans knowing that her inquisitive nature would be incited by any queries the commander made of her on the subject.  At this point it was a diplomatic mission and he was hoping that it stayed that way.  As soon as everyone was seated, he got right to business.  "As you are all aware, the Enterprise has altered course.  We are going to Romulus."

 

                "Do the Romulans know we're coming?" Riker asked.

 

                "Yes, Number One," Picard said.  "We've been invited by the new Praetor, a Reman.  We'll meet with a warbird at designated coordinates in the Bassen Rift and be escorted to Romulus."

 

                Beverly was trying to wrap her mind around the information that Picard had almost casually dropped.  "How does a Reman rise to that much power on Romulus?"

 

                "That is still unknown, Doctor," Picard replied.  "In fact there are a great many unknowns in this diplomatic mission.  Starfleet is counting on us to assess the situation and try to answer some of those questions during our visit there."

 

                Deanna was sitting beside Crusher.  "Is there any significance to the Enterprise getting this assignment?"

 

                "Again unknown," Picard answered.  "The invitation did specify us for the meeting but that may be due to the assistance that Vash and I provided in recovering the Praetor's Fasces some time ago.  The major concern at this point is the stability of the Romulan Empire.  If there has been a civil war that intelligence had no knowledge of, the ramifications of this on the rest of the quadrant and the Federation itself comes into question.  This briefing will provide what information Starfleet was able to provide us with.  Mr. Data, please begin."

 

                Data obediently pulled up a display of the Romulan star system.  "Similar to the planet Mercury in the Sol system, one side of Remus always faces the sun creating extreme temperatures on both sides of the planet, heat and cold.  The light side is too hot for humanoid existence; therefore the Remans inhabit the dark side.  Very little is actually documented about the Reman homeworld; although long-range scans have established the existence of dilithium mining and heavy weapons construction.  Lifesigns are most highly concentrated in the most temperate areas of the planet's surface.  It is reasonable to also assume the existence of underground facilities."

 

                "Thank you, Mr. Data," Picard said.  "Mr. Chakotay, what can you tell us about the Remans themselves?"

 

                Chakotay pulled up images of grotesque-looking beings.  "The Remans are at the bottom of the caste system in the hierarchy of the Romulan Empire, similar to Untouchables from ancient Hindu culture on Earth.  They live in near total darkness so it's likely that they've developed extreme sensitivity to light and advanced night vision capabilities.  They are fierce warriors; in the Dominion War, legions of Reman forces were used as assault troops in some of the most heavily-fortified Jem Hadar positions."

 

                "Cannon fodder," Riker grunted.

 

                Chakotay nodded.  "Reman units were commanded by Romulan officers and were kept away from any interaction with other forces in the war so aside from some images of Remans taken from a distance, there is little information on their culture or society."

 

                Geordi gestured toward Crusher.  "So like Dr. Crusher asked, how does a Reman at the bottom of the Romulan food chain get to be Praetor?  Was he some kind of hero in the Dominion War or something?"

 

                Riker offered his theory.  "We have to assume he had Romulan collaborators."

 

                Picard considered it.  "Remans probably haven't been off-world that much and I doubt Romulans have interacted as much with them prior to serving together in the war.  The Praetor's power has always been the Romulan fleet so it's possible that officers in the fleet supported him in some sort of coup."

 

                Deanna suggested something that his comment sparked.  "What about the possibility of some form of mind manipulation.  We know that Romulans and Remans come from the same genetic ancestry as Vulcans so there is a predisposition for telepathy.  Vulcans are touch telepaths, so it's possible that Remans also have some form of telepathic ability.  They could have taken advantage of the extended contact with higher level Romulans that they had during the war to initiate this change in their social status."

 

                "That's a thought; I guess we'll find out for sure when we see who's commanding the warbird we're meeting," Picard said.  "For now we're left with more questions than answers.  Number One, work with Mr. Lar to come up with an analysis and recommendations just in case the Counselor's theory about mental influence has merit.  Dr. Crusher, work with them on scanning brain activity for any indication of telepathic control.  I want some sort of assurance that the Enterprise will not end up in service to this new Praetor.  Commander Chakotay, while I'm meeting with the Praetor, I'll ask if he would allow you to meet with some Remans for a cultural exchange--a chance to get to know them and their culture better.  Before my wife even asks, I want only Starfleet officers involved in any interactions at this stage of the mission.  When she objects, she can-- and most likely will-- take it up with me personally.  I will not authorize any civilian to leave this ship for any reason while we are in Romulan space and that goes for all of the other departments as well.  Full security alert, just keep it discreet.  Dismissed."

 

.....................................................

 

In his quarters that evening, Picard sat on the sofa deeply engrossed in the intelligence reports that he'd just received from Admiral Nechayev.  His attention was wrenched away from his reading when his wife forced her way into his arms to straddle his lap dressed only in a black lace and chiffon teddy.  The full curves of her breasts pressed against him when she leaned in to stroke the top of his head.

 

                "An old Risan gambling tradition, it's good luck to rub a bald man's head . . ." Vash gently nipped at his earlobe before questioning lasciviously, "or is it if you give a bald man head?"

 

                "Either way, the answer is no."  A hint of amusement tinged his resonating voice as he set aside his reading.  With a come-hither expression on her face, she was a woman on a mission and pulling out all the stops.  He had been expecting something along these lines ever since giving the order regarding civilians in the earlier briefing.

 

                Vash closed her eyes and nuzzled his neck, savoring the clean, masculine scent of his aftershave and the solid anchor of his masculine form beneath her.  Damn, he was sexy.  This was going to be fun.  She began to turn his name into a seductive purr, "Jean--"

 

                "No," he cut her off.  The situation was simply too perilous for a civilian and the decision was final.  His wife's usual antics, no matter how delightful, were not going to change his mind.

 

                "But . . ."

 

                "No."

 

                Vash pulled back slightly and tried once more, "the opportunity . . ."

 

                "No."

 

With a flippant toss of her hair, she gave her most sensuous pout, "You're such a kill joy."

 

"And yet here I sit with a beautiful minx wearing next to nothing perched on my lap talking about my head."  He emphasized the rejoinder by spanning her slim waist with his hands.

 

                "So, you're saying this whole martinet captain thing is working for you," she sassed back.  The warmth from his hands seeped through the gauzy material causing her breasts to swell, the peaks stiffening to attention.

 

                "Seems to be."  He regarded her for a moment.  "You really didn't think that I would even consider  allowing you to join Chakotay's team in a meeting with the Remans at this stage of the process?"

 

                With his tender devotion plainly visible in those piercing eyes, Vash gave a slight capitulating smile.  "I knew I had about a snowball's chance on Vulcan.  But I had to give it a try."

 

                "Good and since the issue has been dealt with . . ." his attention was drawn to the irresistible lure of her hardened nipples straining against the black lace.  "May I safely assume we can have sex now?"

 

                Vash let out a surprised laugh.  "My, aren't you in a forthright mood tonight."

 

                "This ship is headed toward Romulan territory for what I'm sure will be a very high stakes game of political poker.  So, this may be the last time I have for a long while to indulge in the simple and straightforward approach," he offered in explanation.

 

                "Fair enough; has the captain decided on a position for tonight or would he like a little time to think it over while receiving the previously alluded to blo--" she broke off with a squeal when he began tickling her ribcage mercilessly.   Laughing so hard that she was gasping for breath, she twisted and turned helplessly on his lap trying in vain to escape his fingers.

 

                The playfulness slowly coalesced into something much more primitive and insistent.  His hardness grew in fervent response to her writhing against him.  Pulses of fiery need shot through his body each time her hips made contact with his own.  He halted his teasing assault.  "Ready to capitulate and behave yourself, little girl?"

 

                "Capitulate and behave?  Never; surrender and succumb  -- Oh God yes," she panted, capturing his mouth with hers in a fiercely, passionate kiss.  Her tongue stole between his parted lips to plunder the depths of the warm, moist cavern.  He was obviously determined to have an evening of pure, erotic fun and she was equally determined to enjoy every minute of it.  Her hips rocked against his responding to the carnal pressure of his hard length pushing against her through the fabric of his trousers.

 

                He broke the kiss, lifting her off his lap and setting her on her feet.  Standing up, he gave her scantly clad behind a playful swat.  "Bedroom."

 

                "Course plotted, Captain, but not laid -- well not yet," she retorted saucily as she made her way toward their bedroom.

 

                "Rest assured, being laid is simply a matter of time," he guaranteed her wolfishly.  His eyes drank in the shapely length of her legs, the perfectly proportioned roundness of her backside and the delightful sway of her hips.  When they reached the foot of the bed, she turned to face him and reached up to trace leisurely circles around the rank pips on the collar of his burgundy uniform tunic.  He knew she did that intentionally, just to wreak havoc on his senses and it always did.

 

Vash trailed her fingertip slowly down the front of his uniform tunic, relishing the way his stomach muscles tensed beneath her touch along with his sharp intake of breath when she reached his waistband.   While deftly undoing his uniform trousers, she seductively moistened her lips with just the tip of her tongue. "I believe I mentioned something about an old Risan gambling tradition."

 

Picard watched her slowly sink to her knees in front of him.  Although there was no doubt about her intentions, the erotic anticipation fueled his escalating desires.  She softly traced her delicate pink tongue around the very tip of his hard length before nibbling and licking along the throbbing ridge and back again.  Overwhelmed by the sensations, he wound his hands into her silky hair.  She finally enveloped him, the moist heat of her mouth surrounding and stroking his hard length with a familiar, tantalizing tempo.  She redoubled her efforts pushing at the very limits of his self-control.  Half-pleading, half-warning, he rasped hoarsely, "ma petite, if you want that course you plotted actually laid, you'd better stop."

 

With a giggle, Vash pulled back to sit on her heels.   "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to make someone laugh when their mouth is full? A girl could choke."

 

                "Mon Dieu," he chuckled stripping off his uniform tunic and tossing it aside.  "There's a medical emergency that I'd rather not explain."

 

                 Standing back up, she grasped the bottom of his t-shirt and peeled it over his head, tossing it aside.  "Only because you know the good doctor would never believe it was my fault.  Okay, big boy, up against the wall and spread'em."

 

                He took off his boots.  "Actually, I was going to suggest the bed."

 

                "Oh my, how conventional," she teased.  A startled gasp escaped her lips when he swept her up to unceremoniously drop her onto the soft bedding.

 

                "It gets the job done," he noted with satisfaction.   Removing his trousers, his gaze swept over the feminine jewel sprawled across his bed.  He noted that nothing but a diaphanous layer of black lace and chiffon stood between him and this evening's objective.  "Why do you insist on wearing these little confections when you know that they're only going to end up torn and tattered on the floor?"

 

Her eyes boldly traveled down his body to the hard length of his arousal before lifting to meet his gaze.  "It gets the job done."

 

                "Agreed."  He moved to kneel on the bed next to her

 

                "You really going to rip it off me, soldier?" the taunt was delivered brazenly.

 

                "Uh-huh," he replied in a honeyed baritone reaching out to slip his index finger beneath one thin strap.  The center seam that ran between two front lace panels would give way easily enough.

 

                His answer combined with the sensation of the back of his hand brushing against her skin left her entire body thrumming with need.  Her voice came out husky and passion-laced, "This wasn't replicated.  I'll actually have to buy another one to replace it."  His eyebrow went up even as he leaned to bring his face to just a hairsbreadth from hers.  She added, "with your money, of course."

 

                "I'm sure you'll purchase several, all with coordinating accessories," he rasped hoarsely against her mouth seizing it in a deep, ravenous kiss.  His tongue hungrily rifled the depths of her mouth searching for and finding hers.  She matched his intensity, forcing her tongue past his in her own voracious exploration of his mouth.  He gripped the flimsy fabric, which ripped more easily than he had anticipated.  The distinct sound of a seam giving way merged with her heated moan.  A few moments later, the teddy lay tattered and discarded on the floor just as he had predicted.  He slid his mouth from hers, moving to tenderly nibble on her neck.  The musky smell of her favorite perfume tantalized him, a softly-scented combination of roses, violets, and lavender.  Her pulse fluttered rapidly beneath his lips and he flicked his tongue against her pulse point, coaxing her to roll her head back baring her throat to his gentle onslaught.  "You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his mouth made its way down the silken expanse of her skin to the full curves of her breasts.  His lips imprisoning the taut nipple of one of her breasts, he leisurely swirled his tongue over the stiff peak.  He nipped lightly at the hardened crest then began suckling strongly.

 

                "And here I thought it was my scintillating intellect you found so alluring," Vash retorted breathlessly her fingers tangling themselves in the fringe of grey hair at the nape of his neck.  The coarse rasp of his tongue along with the sharp pull of his mouth and the occasional scrape of his teeth sent streaks of fire racing through her body from the sensitive crests of her breasts.

 

"Uh-huh, because your intellect is what you were using as leverage to give yourself a tactical advantage this evening," came his throaty answer.  His hand slid up her thigh, caressing the soft, creamy skin of her inner thigh.

 

"Some tactical advantage, it failed miserably," she lamented.  The warmth of his hand practically sparked against her skin while sliding up the inside of her thigh and a rush of liquid heat flooded through her in response.  She shifted her legs and arched her hips in a tacit plea for the exquisite pleasure she always experienced in his arms.

 

Picard moved up to hover over her, his hand combing through her damp, dark curls.  His fingers moved against her, into her, her arousal bathing his fingertips. "It simply struck the wrong target by reinforcing how much I treasure a particularly lovely archaeological piece."

 

                "Sonofabitch," she hissed softly, due as much to realizing her miscalculation as to the arousal building inside of her.  His knowing fingers were filling her, nimbly stroking and creating a throbbing need almost painful in its intensity.

 

                "Not the first time you've said as much and I'm sure it won't be the last;" he increased the pressure, dipping into the dripping wet depths of her body before returning to torment the swollen bud begging for his attentions.

 

                "Oh God . . . more . . . God, yes . . . harder, . . . faster," Vash whimpered.  The coil of pleasure was tightening driving her hips to rub frantically against his hand.  Every muscle in her body straining, reaching for the pinnacle, she was close, so close.

 

Her uninhibited responses, abandoning herself to his lovemaking never failed to ignite Picard with an insatiable need.  The way her body tightly clenched against his fingers with each caress and her frenzied movements silently told him she was nearing that sweet precipice.  "That's the way you like it, you want more of it?  Just like that, oui, Vash."

 

It was the sound of his masterful voice, rough with his own arousal, coaxing her that finally sent wave after wave of ecstasy crashing over her.  Rather than sating her, the release only served to whet her appetite.  She slid her arms up to encircle his neck as she gently pulled his lower lip between her teeth.  She whispered in a beguiling purr, "I want you inside me, Johnny.  Prends moi."

 

He lingered, just enjoying the almost-casual tenor of the night and the feel of her body beneath him.  He slid into her slowly with his hands holding her hips steady.  When his body was buried completely inside of her, his mouth sought hers out for a sensuous yet possessive kiss.  The slick depths of her body were still quivering from her first release and combined with the moisture and heat, the sensation was more intoxicating than the strongest Romulan ale.  He pulled himself almost completely back out and then thrust back inside her with long, lazy strokes.  Lost to everything but the sweet and tender passion he shared only with this woman, his tongue taunted her mouth in an erotic imitation of what their bodies were doing.  Small noises came from the back of her throat while the supple curves of her body twisted, bucking impatiently beneath him.  His hands held her firmly to keep her from speeding up the tempo of their bodies, torturing both of them with the slow but steady pace.

 

Suddenly she broke the kiss, swearing colorfully.  "I gave up too fast," she panted, her body not missing a beat.  "You wouldn't be taking this long if I'd wound you up a little more first."

 

"I can take longer, or perhaps madame would care to take an intermission for a little spanking," he chuckled.

 

She reached out to give his taut backside a hard slap.  "If you don't giddy-up, I'm going to give you a spanking, soldier boy."

 

                Obedient albeit amused, he drove his body into her harder and faster.  One hand came up to toy with a stiff nipple, tugging on it to increase the intensity of the sensations flowing through her body.  It didn't take much longer before her body clamped spasmodically around him and she called out his name over and over as a second, powerful orgasm ripped through her.  He thrust into her several more times, enjoying the feel of her body spasming around him until finally, with one, last, powerful thrust, he held himself buried inside her while his own, explosive release tore through him.  He rolled over to collapse onto the bed next to her and Vash immediately moved to drape herself over his damp chest.

 

                Idly tracing designs with a fingertip through the coarse hair on the muscular expanse of his chest, she glanced over at the remains of her teddy on the floor.  "I lose more expensive lingerie that way."

 

                "When this mission is over we'll buy you more to replace it.  I'll even go with you to help pick it out," he offered, his appreciative gaze traveling over her.  She was always so beautiful after lovemaking, with a rosy flush that highlighted her ivory skin and her dark hair framing her lovely features.

 

                "Oh God, we'd end up getting arrested, " Vash giggled.

 

                "That's what emergency beam outs are for, ma chere," he informed her raising an eyebrow suggestively. 

 

"It's good to be the king, huh?" she bantered playfully.

 

                "Absolutely."  He emphasized his answer by reaching down to cradle one cheek of her perfect derriere with his hand.  He patted the supple curve, enjoying the gentle bounce of the plaint flesh against his palm.  She was smiling up at him, mirth sparkling in her blue eyes.  Feeling blissfully content, he knew everything he needed was here in his arms.  "Especially when the king is married to the woman of his dreams.  Je t'aime, Vash"

 

Basking in the warmth of his adoration, she placed a kiss at the center of his chest.  "Je t'aime, mon capitaine."

 

.....................................................................

 

                When Picard entered the transporter room in full dress uniform and alone, Chakotay gave his wife a wink and a grin.  "To the victor," he murmured softly.

 

                Beverly reached out to tug at the collar of his dress uniform.  "Goes the spoils," she finished.  "You win our bet and I'm sure you'll let me know when you're ready for me to pay up."

 

                Chakotay brushed her red hair back over her shoulder to more prominently display the rank pips on her dress uniform.  "I'm always ready; unfortunately we have this formal dinner to attend so it'll have to wait."

 

                Standing nearby, Deanna smoothed down the jacket of her dress uniform and shot an envious thought at Will who looked entirely too comfortable in his duty uniform.  "First the failure with the Don Juan production and now this; it looks like the Queen is losing her touch," she noted.

 

                Data entered looking almost rushed.  "I apologize for my tardiness, sir," he said to Picard. 

 

                "No harm done, Mr. Data," Picard assured him.  "We're just now ready to transport over to the warbird.  Number One, I leave the Enterprise in your hands."

 

                Riker grinned.  "Have fun, sir.  I'd love to go with you all but--"

 

                "But it would hardly be smart to have all of our senior officers off the ship while we're hanging nose-to-nose with a Romulan vessel," Picard finished for him.  "I do have some understanding of Starfleet regulations and the reason for them, not to mention strategy, Commander."

 

                "Yes, sir," he chuckled, stepping aside for Deanna to join Chakotay, Beverly, Data and Captain Picard on the transporter pad.

 

                The group were all still amused at the exchange when they materialized onboard the Romulan vessel and got their first real look at Remans.  They were tall and lanky but obviously very powerful with a grotesque appearance reminiscent of the Nosferatu from ancient Earth.  Picard didn't miss a beat and stepped off the pad to greet their welcoming party.  "Praetor, I'm pleased to --"

 

                "I am not the Praetor," the Reman growled.  "I am his Viceroy; welcome aboard, Captain Picard."

 

                "Thank you, Viceroy, we are honored to have been invited to your vessel," Picard made the diplomatic response.  "May I present the rest of my party:  my Chief Medical Officer, Beverly Crusher; her husband and ship's anthropologist, Commander Chakotay; my ship's counselor, Deanna Troi and my science officer, Lieutenant Commander Data."

 

                "Follow me, please," the Viceroy nodded curtly before turning on his heel to lead them from the transporter room.  The two Remans who had flanked him followed without a word.

 

                With brief glances, Picard assumed the lead position behind the Remans with Data following close behind.  The two ladies took their position next.  Chakotay's hand rested on Beverly's back for an instant as he brought up the rear.  "Not very talkative people, are they?" he murmured just loud enough for Beverly and Deanna to hear.

 

                "They may be as uncertain about this meeting as we are," Deanna suggested.

 

                Beverly made a show of brushing her hair back over her shoulder to conceal her whispered question.  "Are you sensing something?"

 

                Deanna shook her head no.  "They're very closed; I can't tell if it's emotional suppression or mental shields yet."

 

                "With a warrior caste, it could be either one," Chakotay said softly.

 

                Their hushed conversation came to an abrupt halt when the group reached the end of the corridor.  The Viceroy nodded to the two formally-dressed Reman sentries standing guard at the door.  In perfect unison, the two sentries presented their weapons and spun to face one another as the door slid open.  The Viceroy stepped aside and gestured for the group to enter.  "The Praetor awaits you inside."

 

                "Thank you," Picard said.  He straightened his jacket before leading the way past the honor guard who were holding position perfectly still.

 

                As soon as they were inside, Chakotay and Data fanned out to flank the group, putting Picard and the ladies between them.  Data's visual processors adapted to the dim lighting more quickly than human eyes, which allowed him to note the number and location of everyone in the room.  He made special note of the two Romulans setting dishes on an ornately-set table.

 

                A tall, stately-looking Reman stepped from the shadows.  "Captain Picard, it is indeed an honor to meet such a notable man.  I am Praetor of the Unified Romulan Empire."

 

                Picard inclined his head in greeting.  "I am honored to make the acquaintance of an even more notable figure."

 

                "Ah," the Praetor smiled.  "Your reputation for diplomacy is not exaggerated, Picard."

 

                Briefly taken off-guard by the Praetor's jovial response, Picard allowed himself an answering grin.  "I speak only the truth, Praetor.  You are unprecedented in the history of your people and the Enterprise is honored to have this opportunity to meet with you on behalf of the Federation.  May I present some of my senior officers; my Chief Medical Officer, Beverly Crusher; her husband and ship's anthropologist, Commander Chakotay; my ship's counselor, Deanna Troi and my science officer, Lieutenant Commander Data."

 

                "Welcome," the Praetor greeted them warmly.  "Computer raise lighting level by eighty percent."

 

                Picard noticed the reaction of the Remans in the room including the Praetor himself.  "Perhaps a reduction in the lighting by thirty percent would allow everyone to be comfortable," he suggested.

 

                "This first meeting is proceeding better than either one of us expected; isn't it, Captain Picard?" the Praetor asked as he gestured for the lighting to be adjusted.

 

                Picard nodded.  "It would seem so."

 

                The Praetor ushered them over to the table where the Viceroy, who had apparently entered the room through another door along with another Reman and a familiar Romulan stood waiting.  "You have already met my Viceroy," he began.  "May I present my Minister of Foreign Affairs and the commander of this vessel, Commander Tomalak."

 

                Tomalak bowed to the Praetor before speaking.  "Captain Picard and I are already acquainted, Praetor.  It is good to see you again, Captain.  You are looking quite well."

 

                "Tomalak," Picard acknowledged.  "It has been quite a while since our last meeting.  You are also looking quite well."

 

                The Praetor took his place at the head of the table.  "Wonderful, we are practically old friends already.  That is my hope with this meeting, to end the centuries of mistrust between our peoples and recognize that we are more alike than dissimilar.  Federation and Romulan; Human and Vulcan and Klingon and Reman, there is certainly more in common between us than there are differences.  Unity and peace makes so much more sense than mistrust and hostility.  Please, let us all be seated.  I believe the breaking of bread together is a very old tradition among friends on your home world, isn't it, Captain Picard?"

 

                "You are very well-informed," Picard replied, sitting down just to the right of the Praetor and across from the Viceroy.  "On that subject, I was hoping to discuss the possibility of a cultural exchange at some point in our meetings."

 

                The Praetor took a sip of the wine that the two Romulans had poured for all of the individuals at the table.  "A cultural exchange?"

 

                "We know very little of Reman culture," Picard pointed out.  "We would like to learn about you.  If it would be permissible, I would like Commander Chakotay to talk with some of your people to learn about you."

 

                "Do you not assume that Romulan ways are our ways, Commander Chakotay?" the Praetor asked. 

 

                Chakotay wiped his mouth and set the napkin back in his lap.  "Not at all, Praetor.  Even among peoples who develop on the same planet there are rich differences in history, tradition and culture.  Given that your people have lived apart from Romulan society for so long, I believe that there is much to learn about Remans.  I would very much welcome the chance."

 

                "All the people of the Unified Romulan Empire are my people," the Praetor corrected him.  "Romulans and Remans, re-joined in brotherhood after far too long."

 

                "I misspoke, my apologies," Chakotay said.

 

                The Praetor nodded to his Viceroy.  "The first of your lessons, then.  My Viceroy will assist you in your further lessons.  You may talk with whomever you wish, Commander."

 

                Beverly leaned forward to look up the table to where the Praetor sat.  "Would that opportunity include physicians?  I would love to learn about Reman physiology and medicine."

 

                The Praetor nodded.  "Of course, Dr. Crusher, although I'm afraid access to medicine has been lacking for Remans historically.  Remans have healing techniques that your Counselor Troi may find interesting as well since they rely on mental abilities.  I would like this to be the first step in the Federation and my people becoming much closer.  In fact I want to propose right here and now that we abolish the Neutral Zone and begin a free and open exchange of goods and ideas."

 

                Picard raised his glass.  "A goal worthy of a toast, Praetor.  With your permission I would like to offer a very old blessing from Earth:  There are good ships and there are wood ships, the ships that sail the seas; but the best ships are friendships and may they always be."

 

                "To friendships," the Praetor echoed approvingly.  As everyone joined in the toast and sipped from their wine he continued.  "I confess that I have been studying the beliefs of Earth in preparation for this meeting.  Democracy and equality in particular are fascinating concepts to me and still very new ideas to a society with such a long history of strict social structure.  It will take some time for my people to truly see each other and even ourselves as one people.

 

                "Change takes time," Picard said.  "The bigger the change, the longer it takes, generally speaking."

 

                The Praetor regarded him carefully.  "Which makes you wonder how a Reman could rise to the apex of Romulan society so quickly."

 

                "To be honest, yes," Picard acknowledged.

 

                "In your study of archaeology have you never encountered a culture where an ideology resonated so strongly with the common people that it overshadowed the existing way of life?" the Praetor asked.  "I have found examples in your own Earth mythologies, ancient religions from your world.  It is a pity that your wife did not join us, I was looking forward to discussing one such tale in particular with her.  Perhaps either you, Captain Picard or Commander Chakotay are familiar with Mithras?"

 

                "Roman mythology," Picard identified the name.

 

                Chakotay supplied a bit more information.  "The central figure in a popular but mysterious underground cult brought back by Roman soldiers who encountered it during Rome's expansion.  Underground shrines to Mithras have been discovered on Earth which contain a relief depicting Mithras slaying a mythic bull."

 

                Data provided a more detailed reference.  "In actuality, Mithras was also known as Mithra or Mitra and appears in several mythologies, the earliest of which would be Indian mythology.  Prior to the reforms of Zoroaster, Mitra was a god of contracts and friendship.  In some regions he was also considered to be the protector of truth.  The figure of Mitra was strongly associated with the sun and light."

 

                "Ah," the Praetor clapped his hands with delight.  "The android officer, how could I have overlooked your vast knowledge?  Yes, in spite of a decree ousting him from power in their hierarchy of gods, everything he represented resonated so strongly with people that they worshipped him in secret.  I must say that the image of Mithras emerging into the world from a rock and armed with only a knife and torch, slaying the great bull Geush Urvan in order to provide for his people has haunted me.  I suppose it bears a strong resemblance to the Reman experiences."

 

                The Viceroy made a discreet noise, waiting for the Praetor to acknowledge him.  "Pardon, but since dinner seems to have been enjoyed, I thought it might be time for your gift."

 

                "Yes, yes," the Praetor gestured for a Reman soldier to approach the table with a small box.  "Captain Picard, in the spirit of Mithras, I would like to present you with a small token of friendship."

 

                Picard accepted the box and opened it to find an ornate, intricately-designed signet ring.  "This is most exquisite, Praetor.  I believe I recognize some ancient Romulan characters in the design."

 

                "Indeed, the design was specially done to incorporate symbols of old and new, Romulan and Reman," the Praetor said.  "I am glad you like it.  If our intelligence on you is accurate, the ring should be a perfect fit."

 

                Picard slid the ring on the middle finger of his right hand.  "Perfect fit indeed."

 

                "Well, this has been an unqualified success," the Praetor declared.  "I look forward to more in-depth discourse between us tomorrow."

 

                "Until tomorrow," Picard replied.

 

                The Viceroy stood along with the others at the table.  "I will escort you back to the transporter room."

 

                Picard nodded for his officers to follow the Viceroy.  He walked toward the door side-by-side with the Praetor feeling a sense of relief at how well the evening had gone.  He wondered if Kirk had experienced similar feelings about his historic dinner with Chancellor Gorkon.  Hoping this turned out better for him than that encounter had for Kirk, he stopped and turned to the Praetor.  "Thank you again for this opportunity, a wonderful dinner and such an exquisite gift.  I look forward to our future together."

 

                "As do I, Picard, as do I."

 

                In the corridor, the group arrived at the transporter room and when Chakotay stepped aside for Deanna and her to enter, Beverly noticed that the captain wasn't with them.  "Where's Captain Picard?" she asked to no one in particular.

 

                "Right here," Picard strolled up behind them toying with the signet ring.  "I just had some final words with the Praetor."

 

.....................................................................

 

                When the door to the quarters slid open, Vash looked up from where she had curled up on the couch to catch up on her reading.  She had already changed for bed, opting for a peignoir set of vivid blue satin that made her eyes practically glow.  "Well?"

 

                "Well what?" he asked.

 

                Rising gracefully with a dramatic swirl of satin, she sauntered over to Picard.  "Since you denied me my fun by grounding me, you have to tell me every little detail starting with what they look like."

 

                He removed his uniform jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair.  "You can see for yourself tomorrow, we've been invited to lunch with the Praetor."

 

                "But that's tomorrow and you know that instant gratification takes too long.  I want to know now," Vash pouted.  Her finger trailed down the front of his chest.  "I bet I can make you talk." 

 

                Pulling away he turned toward the bedroom door.  "It's been a long day."

 

                "Oh no you don't; you don't get off that easily, mon capitaine."  She grabbed his arm and jerked him back against her.  Her tongue flicked out to moisten his lips before forcing its way between them in a demanding kiss.  Her eyes fluttered shut in anticipation of the warm rush that always accompanied Jean-Luc's kisses but flew open almost immediately and she pulled away so forcefully that she practically shoved him down.  "Just who the hell are you?  And don't even try to tell me that you're my husband because I may have been born at night, but it wasn't last night."

 

                "Very perceptive, Madame Picard," he said sardonically.  "Very perceptive indeed--no, I don't think you want to do that," he cautioned her as he grabbed her, covering her mouth to prevent her from calling for security.  "Do you see this signet ring on my finger?"

 

                Vash nodded yes, eying the ornate piece and thinking about biting the fingers across her mouth.

 

                "It's an explosive device.  If anyone learns that I'm not the real Jean-Luc Picard, I'll detonate it.  It's powerful enough to destroy the Enterprise and everyone on it.  If you call for help or try to warn anyone in any way, you will be responsible for the deaths of everyone onboard this ship, not to mention your beloved Jean-Luc.  Do you understand?"

 

                She nodded yes again and this time he released her.  Stepping away from the exact duplicate of her Jean-Luc, she pulled her peignoir tighter around her.  "If anything happens to me, there will be an investigation," she pointed out.  "If you touch me again, it will be over my cold, dead, decaying body, which will trigger that aforementioned investigation.  Do you understand?"

 

                "Spirited," he noted with a trace of amusement in his voice.  "Don't fear for your virtue, Mrs. Picard.  I have much more important things to do than you."

 

                "What things?" Vash asked.  "Who are you and where is Jean-Luc?  How do I know that he's still alive or that you aren't planning to kill everyone onboard this ship anyway?"

 

                He plopped down on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.  "Your Picard is on the warbird, alive and well as long as I say so.  If you behave yourself and do as you're told, I'll let you keep him.  If you even try to cross me, he will die slowly and painfully.  Knowing your reputation for sneakiness, I'll be closely watching you, everywhere you go, everything you do, every breath you take; if you do anything I don't like, I'll turn you into a widow.  If I'm forced to destroy the Enterprise, the Remans will no longer have a use for him and will doubtless use him for entertainment."

 

                "You've made your point," she snapped.  "You can stop beating that dead horse any time now."

 

                "Shinzon," he said.

 

                "What?"

 

                "You did ask who I was," he replied.  "My name is Shinzon, although you probably should call me Jean-Luc just so you don't slip up at an inopportune moment."

 

                Vash sat stiffly in the chair across from him.  "Don't hold your breath."

 

                "But if the Romulans had stuck to their plan," he countered, "you might have ended up married to me all along."

 

                "What is that supposed to mean?"

 

                "I am a clone, an exact biological duplicate of Jean-Luc Picard; although I obviously haven't lived as many years as he has.  The scientists who created me added temporal RNA sequencing to accelerate my aging process, allowing me to skip thirty years of my life.  When I was ready, they were going to replace him with me; put a Romulan agent at the heart of Starfleet.  It was a bold plan."

 

                Vash wanted to keep him talking, gather as much information as she could about what was going on.  "What happened?"

 

                Shinzon made a disparaging expression.  "As happens so frequently here on Romulus, a new government came to power.  They decided to abandon the  plan -- frankly, I think they were afraid I'd be discovered and it would lead to war.  They weren't ready for that."

 

                "How did you end up working for the Remans?"

 

                He snorted.  "They sent me to Remus to die.  How could a mere human survive the dilithium mines?  It was . . . I was a slave and a monster.  The only thing the Romulan guards hated more than the Remans was me.  But one man took pity on me, the man who is now the Praetor of the Unified Romulan Empire.  He taught me how to survive and in that dark place, where there was nothing of myself, I found my Reman brothers.  They showed me the only kindness I ever knew.  I allowed them to activate the temporal sequencing in my genetic code.  I sacrificed those thirty years of my life to fulfill my raison d'etre for the good of my Reman brethren."

 

                As he talked, she studied him carefully.  His speech patterns weren't quite as stilted and formal as Jean-Luc's but his tone and timbre were exact.  A bulge under his shirt got her attention; it appeared to be a medallion--she could just make out the line of a chain around his neck.  The shape looked like a star or a sun image.  She needed to get a better look at the ring and that medallion.  "You really think you can pull this off?  There's an empath and a telepath onboard unless you're planning to transfer them."

 

                Sneering at her, he waved his hand dismissively.  "My Praetor has prepared me well for this mission."

 

                "What mission?"

 

                "Take the place of Captain Jean-Luc Picard.  When the Remans have established control over the Alpha and Beta Quadrants, I will become governor of Earth.  Enough talking, we will go over to the warbird for lunch tomorrow as the proper married couple.  I will sleep in the bedroom, you will sleep out here on the couch and I am a very light sleeper.  Do not think to kill me in my sleep or try to leave these quarters."

 

                Vash gave him her most innocent expression.  "Never crossed my mind."             

 

.............................................................................

 

                "So you think they're sincere?" Riker was sitting up in bed watching Deanna brush her hair.  He was relieved when the dinner ended and the away team beamed back without incident.  With the ship and her crew secure for the night, he'd turned the bridge over to Lar and headed for his quarters, anxious to hear the details of the evening's event.

 

                "It is difficult to say for certain," Deanna replied.  She laid the brush down and walked over to the bed, the silk folds of her nightgown swirling around her legs.  "Most of the Remans were very reserved in their demeanor and their emotions.  The Praetor was quite a contrast with an almost ebullient personality; however, I could not feel any deep emotions from him."

 

                He held up the covers for her to join him underneath them and waited until she was snuggled in beside him.  "Could they have been blocking or manipulating your perceptions?"

 

                She thought back through the evening.  "I did not sense any active telepathy aimed at me, but we know so little about Remans that I can't really be certain.  The Praetor did offer Beverly and me access to their healing techniques, which are telepathy-based so I may be able to learn more."

 

                "That doesn't make me feel much better about the Captain's decision to take Vash over for lunch tomorrow," he groused.  "I wish he'd hold off on that for a few more days until we know more about them."

 

                Deanna shrugged.  "The Praetor did say that he was disappointed to not meet her tonight.  Perhaps the captain feels that it will promote a spirit of friendship."

 

                Riker sighed.  "I'll talk to him before they transport over tomorrow, at least express my reservations."

 

                "There's more bothering you than the captain's lunch plans," she prompted.  "Do I need to make you an appointment or would you like a private session with the ship's counselor?"

 

                Chuckling ruefully, he nuzzled her long, dark hair.  "I don't  . . . I mean it's just . . . It was strange enough in that future that Barash created where the Federation and the Romulans were negotiating peace.  Tomalak was even the Romulan representative and Admiral Picard was there with you as his aide.  Now here we are living out that fictional future in the flesh."

 

                "Creating an uncomfortable sense of deja' vu," she noted.  She ran her hand across the broad expanse of his chest.  His consternation was no more intense than anyone else's current level of tension so she opted for a bit of levity to lighten his mood.  "Of course, in that fictional future, you weren't married to me; would you rather have that future than this one?"

 

                His hand came up to cover hers, knowing through their bond that her question was asked in jest.  His reply was unspoken, one heart to another.  'Minuet was never real.  You are the only woman I ever want to be with, Imzadi.'

 

                Her head tilted up in anticipation of the passionate kiss that followed on the heels of his tender thought.  She welcomed the crushing pressure of his lips on hers and then the weight of his body pressing her down into the bedding.  Love intermingled with desire wafted through her, slowly gaining in intensity as their tongues stroked and caressed one another.  She shivered at the sensation of his fingers gliding up her legs, drawing her nightgown up in their path.

 

                "You know," he said breaking the kiss.  "If the Remans are sincere, these negotiations will change things drastically for the Federation."

 

                "Oh?" Her response was more a gasp than a reply.  In spite of the casual tone of his words, his fingers were brushing across her skin and gradually baring her to his caresses with the nightgown now pushed up to bunch just below her breasts.  She could feel his need almost pulsing through him but there was no intensity to it, just a powerful sense of belonging and contentment.  Relaxing into his hands, she savored every sensation rolling through her both physical and emotional.

 

                He nudged the silk fabric up higher and finally pulled it over her head to discard it on the floor.  His hands returned to their caresses, idly tracing designs on her soft flesh.  "With the last real threat to the stability of the Federation gone, Starfleet can step back from the current emphasis on military alertness and get back to exploration.  It might be time for me to move on.  They've offered me so many commands that I could probably get any ship I want at this point."

 

                Her fingers clutched tightly at his biceps, the streaks of need and desire increasing with every stroke of his hands on her body.  It was getting harder to concentrate on his words.  "Would you really want to leave the Enterprise?"

 

                "I found a home here," he conceded.  He wriggled out of his pajama bottoms and stretched out full-length against her.  "But I belong with you.  I just think it might be time to consider something more settled or permanent--at least as far as getting my own ship to call home."

 

                All of his talk about getting his own command was accompanied by a feeling of stability; there was no restlessness or dissatisfaction with his life.  He was perfectly happy with his life and the knowledge of that fueled her arousal.  Her legs wrapped around his waist and she swiftly joined their bodies, moaning in pleasure at his body buried deep inside her.  She arched her hips up against him and used her legs to pull him closer to her, rocking their bodies together in an easy, gentle rhythm.

 

                With her legs tight around his hips urging them on, his hands moved up her body to entwine in the long, luxuriant tresses.  No thoughts were necessary, their bodies moved together in perfect harmony.  He leaned down to claim her lips, his tongue stealing between her lush lips.  Need and passion spiraled through their joined bodies and minds, their bond heightening the sexual pleasure they each felt individually.  The streaks of sensation began growing sharper and sharper with each stroke of his body into hers.  Her body clutched intimately at him and he could hear her breathing becoming labored as she drew close to her own release.  In these moments he lost himself in their connection, allowing his own thoughts and feelings to merge with hers and make them one.  In that union, he felt her passion reach its pinnacle and her body convulse beneath him in spasms of  ecstasy.  Seconds later, his own orgasm ripped through his body and he groaned out his own satisfaction.

 

                Deanna held him close, keeping him where he collapsed against her so she could bask in the warmth that she felt.  His head rested on her shoulder and his body covered hers as though to shield her from the rest of the universe.  She was utterly safe and cherished.  Eventually sleep began to creep on so reluctantly she urged him over to lay beside her and cuddled up against him.  "Good night, Imzadi."

               

..............................................................................

 

                In Transporter Room Two the following afternoon, Riker tapped on a PADD, trying to look casual.  At the sound of the door he looked up as Picard and Vash walked into the room.  Vash was absently toying with the diamond and gold-pressed latinum heart shaped locket that hung from her neck, a gift from the captain early in their relationship.  He was still disconcerted about the details of this luncheon.  "Sir, I'd like to express one more time my surprise that you accepted this invitation.  You were quite adamant during the staff briefing about no civilians leaving the Enterprise at this stage of the process."

 

                'God, no, Will!' Vash thought, part of her desperately wanting the first officer to realize this wasn't Jean-Luc Picard, while part of her was terrified he would realize just that.  She needed more information if any of them had a chance of getting through this alive.  Right now she just had to play for time and that meant transporting over to the warbird with Shinzon.  She gave Riker her most disarming smile and chided,  "William, after all these years, how can you doubt my powers of persuasion?"

 

                "No offense to the Queen Bee," Riker replied with gallant tilt of his head, "but, Captain, are you sure about this?"

 

                "If I wasn't sure, would she be going?"  Shinzon asked pointedly.  He stiffened his posture and followed Vash up onto the transporter pad.

 

                "Of course, sir." Riker replied, straightening slightly behind the transporter console.

 

                "I'm being kept on a very short leash, he made it abundantly clear that I was not to leave his sight for any reason," Vash said, hoping to soothe Will's reservations.  She knew from experience it was always preferable and much more believable to technically tell the truth.  The trick was in being vague enough that the listener drew the inference you desired.

 

                Shinzon took notice of the change in the man's demeanor and adopted a more casual expression and tone.  "Your concern is noted – and appreciated, Number One."

 

                "Aye, sir," Riker acknowledged, matching the captain's congenial tone.  He gave Vash an indulgent smile.  "You win, but then you usually do."

 

                "Bye, Will."  Even as she gave Riker a playful wink, her heart sank realizing that this Shinzon had indeed done his homework.  After materializing in the warbird's transporter room, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the low light levels.  She was now behind enemy lines.  Several slow, deep breaths calmed her racing pulse a little.

 

                "That was very well done, Vash," Shinzon voiced his approval.

 

                She bristled at his words.  "For the moment Commander Riker has not realized what you are; a cheap imitation of his captain, a superficial copy with no more substance than a holodeck character."

 

                "Ahhh, there's that beguiling charm that is so renowned," he retorted sardonically.

 

                The door opened and the Praetor entered.  "Ah, Professor Picard I presume.  Allow me as the Praetor of the Unified Romulan Empire to personally welcome you aboard.  I'm pleased you accepted our invitation."

 

                "I presume the invitation was extended for the sole purpose of proving to me that my husband is still alive, thereby insuring my further co-operation."  Vash took note of the pallor of the imposing figure in front of her, an indication of regressive evolution from a life spent in darkness.  The features of his face brought to her mind the different representations of demons from Earth's middle ages.

 

                "You are quite perceptive, Professor."  The Reman walked over to activate a viewscreen on the wall, which brought up an image of Jean-Luc Picard sitting on a bunk in a small cell.  He stepped aside to allow Vash a closer look.  "As you can see your husband is still very much alive."

 

                Vash recognized the cold, impassive expression on her husband's face, that legendary Picard self-control she so enjoyed testing.  Now, she could only pray she was able to match it in what was truly a 'high stakes game of political poker' as Jean-Luc had so presciently dubbed it.  She was somewhat amazed by the steadiness of her own voice.  "This proves nothing.  The recording could have been made hours ago and he could already be dead.  I demand that you take me to see him."

 

                "You're not in much of a position to demand anything," the Praetor replied.

 

                "I'm in a very good position to make that demand, Praetor," she countered coldly.  "Replacing my husband with an imposter is obviously an integral part of your plans.  For Shinzon here to have any chance of success, my cooperation is absolutely essential; however, without knowing for certain that Jean-Luc is alive, I have no reason to cooperate.  So boys, take me to see my husband or I don't play ball."

 

                "Very well then, follow me."  The Reman turned on his heel and headed for the door.

 

                With Shinzon behind her, Vash followed the Praetor through the ship's dimly-lit corridors to the brig.  A wave of relief washed over her at the sight of Jean-Luc standing up from the bunk when they walked into the room.  He was alive.  She had spent a long, sleepless night not knowing for sure.  An experienced obtainer of rare antiquities, she immediately identified the energy barrier across the opening of the cell as a standard Romulan forcefield, easily circumvented given the opportunity and time.  She doubted that she would be given either.

 

                Hearing the door open, Picard approached the forcefield, bracing himself to face whatever constituted Reman interrogation procedures only to be stricken by the sight of his one true Achilles' heel.   The only outward sign of his cold fury was an almost imperceptible twitch in his tightly clenched jaw.

 

                "Lower it," Vash hissed at the Praetor before walking over to stand in front of the forcefield.

 

                The Reman gave a small chuckle, "I've had the pleasure of reading the rather lengthy intelligence dossiers on you and the captain.  The forcefield stays up, Professor Picard."

 

                Vash turned her full attention to her husband, her eyes searching his.  "Are you all right?"

 

                "I'm fine," Picard muttered brusquely.  He was much more preoccupied with his concern for her and any action this imposter may have taken against her, his ship, or the crew.  "What about you?"

 

                "They know any harm to me would expose him as an imposter, so I'm safe for now," she assured him.

 

                "As long as you behave yourselves and do nothing to disrupt our plans you will both will remain so," Shinzon cautioned the couple.

 

                Picard looked past Vash to the Praetor and the imposter, "Professor Picard is well aware that no one individual, not even the captain, is more important than the safety of the ship and the rest of the crew."

 

                "She is also now well aware that any individual, even the Captain's wife, can find themselves suddenly responsible for the safety of the ship and the entire crew," Shinzon sneered back. 

 

                Vash took a deep breath before calmly explaining the situation behind the ominous statement.  "Shinzon here claims to be a clone.  He has an explosive device and is watching every move I make.  If I do anything to expose him he will detonate the device and destroy the Enterprise, killing everyone aboard -- and then they will execute you."

 

                "Je suis si désolé, Vash," Picard offered gently.  He knew well the weight that now rested on his wife's shoulders, a heavy weight that should belong to himself or any other member of his senior staff.   "It would seem that you've just received a temporary field commission to acting captain of the Enterprise. "

 

                She instinctively reached out to him only to have the crackling energy of the forcefield sting against her palm.  Her hand pulled back to clutch the heart shaped locket around her neck. "Jean-Luc."

 

                "Do whatever you must, ma chere," he advised her.  There was no doubt in his mind that she would keep her wits through this, never showing vulnerability to the Remans, using her characteristic bold bravado to hide her fears.  Whispering just loud enough for her ears alone, he muttered, "for everyone's sake, don't get caught."

 

                Vash swallowed hard.  "I can't just leave you here—"

 

                "Yes, you can.  The one thing, the only thing, you can do for me right now is to turn and leave here.  Return to the Enterprise," Picard instructed firmly.  She squared her shoulders and held her head high.  With a reassuring smile, he praised, "That's my girl."

 

                Once again she brought her hand up to the forcefield, this time she ignored the sting and quietly vowed, "Je t'aime, Jean-Luc."

 

                He matched her actions on his side of the forcefield.  "Je t'aime, petite amie."

 

                The Praetor closely studied the pair and offered a piece of advice to Shinzon, "Notice carefully how his expression and the tone of his voice soften when he addresses her.  You will have to mimic it.  Your public performance with her must be flawless."

 

                Shinzon easily copied Picard's warm tender tone, "Vash, we should head back to the Enterprise soon."

 

                Vash appraised Shinzon coldly, "Not bad.  It should be good enough convince the crew, but don't delude yourself that I will forget for even a moment just what you are."

 

                "Of course not, my lovely Terran rose.  That is why there will continue to be a locked door between us at night.  I have no desire to be awakened by the feel of a cold blade sliding between my ribs," Shinzon said, taking her arm in his to firmly steer her away from Picard's cell and out of the brig.

 

                Picard stood stoically and watched Vash until the brig's doors closed.  Sinking down onto the bunk and closing his eyes, he could still see her; her delicate face, her silky brunette hair, her vivid blue eyes.  A quote from Tennyson came to his lips.  "If thou shouldst never see my face again, pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of."

 

                In the warbird's transporter room, Vash stepped up onto the transporter pad as the Praetor handed Shinzon an intricately-detailed, ancient statue of a Romulan warrior.

 

                "You'll need this," the Praetor told Shinzon.

 

                "Of course, I'll present it to the Federation Council as a gesture of friendship when I report on the supreme success of the opening round of diplomacy," Shinzon replied.  He joined Vash on the transporter pad and gestured to the Reman at the control console to energize.

 

..............................................................................

 

                Vash breathed a sigh of relief when she entered her office the next morning and closed the door behind her.  She was finally alone and away from Shinzon--as away as she could get within the confines of the ship.  She knew he'd be watching her closely so whatever she did, she'd have to be the sneakiest she'd ever been in her life.  Sitting down at her desk, she activated her computer monitor and brought up the work currently going on in her lab even as her mind raced through her options.  Deanna might be able to sense that she was upset, but she'd ask about it and Shinzon would hear.  Lar could simply read her thoughts, but if she went anywhere near the Bridge or the security office, Shinzon would suspect.  A straightforward message to Beverly about putting on a production of *The Phantom of the Opera* might work--no, they'd scan for anomalies and Shinzon might get nervous.  It would have to be a coded message, something that he would never understand but the recipient would be able to comprehend easily.  What to send to whom; that was the question.

 

                Going through the motions of her day without drawing any attention to herself was draining.  Every time one of her assistants came into her office, she felt like she was about to jump through her skin but somehow nobody noticed.  It was while she was studying a holorecording of ruins found in the Verath system that the solution to her problem presented itself.  The ruins contained a pictographic language that the science team studying it hoped she could decipher given her familiarity with the Gamma Quadrant.  It was just as she pulled up a file to double-check the similarity with a Brax glyph that she was reminded of the Eh-Cu'oral code.  Chakotay had helped with the initial translation and to anybody not familiar with pictographic writing, in a digital format it looked like gibberish.  Calmly, she grabbed a PADD and tried to recall enough of the code to compose a message.   When it was ready, she sent the file to Chakotay along with a note asking for his assistance in decoding some ancient text found during an excavation on Yadalla Prime.  Hitting the transmit button was gut-wrenching.  She forced herself to look casual, perusing the contents of the PADD while she waited, hoping the Chakotay would understand the reference to Yadalla Prime and check the message before answering.  The chirp of her computer announcing an incoming message nearly brought her out of her chair.  She accessed the message and barely managed to suppress a sigh of relief.  It was a response from Chakotay that he would work on it and send her updates on anything he came up with. 

 

                Now she just had to go back to her quarters-- to Shinzon--and wait.

 

................................................................................

 

                Chakotay saved the finished program that he'd spent the past hour working on.  Given the ominous implications of Vash's cryptic message, he hoped it would be convincing enough to fool casual observers.  Now for step two; he called Sickbay.  "Hi there, Fireball, busy day?"

 

                "Not really," Beverly said with the tender smile at the welcome interruption.  "Just working my way through some of the data files that the Remans provided on their physiology."

 

                He reached up in a deliberate motion to rub his tattoo before he continued.  That was their signal in social functions that he wanted to be rescued from whatever conversation he was engaged in and he was hoping that she would pick up on it here.  "I was thinking that it's been awhile since we had Deanna and Will over for dinner, just the four of us.  What do you say?  Why don't you talk to Deanna and see if Will has a duty shift tonight.  If he's off, I'll take off now and get dinner started."

 

                She looked puzzled for a moment but just nodded slowly.  "I'm almost positive that Geordi has bridge duty tonight so why don't you go ahead with dinner plans and I'll invite Will and Deanna."

 

                Releasing the breath he'd been holding apprehensively, Chakotay closed the comm channel and loaded his program onto a PADD.  He could tell that she knew something was wrong, but she'd trusted him, following his lead without question.  Back in his quarters, he loaded the program into the computer console there and programmed the dinner menu into the replicator.  While he waited for the others, he reviewed Vash's message again.  The computer informed him that both Vash and Captain Picard were in the captain's quarters.  The door slid open, startling him and he hastily shut off the monitor only to realize that it was just his wife.

 

                "Deanna and Will will be here in a few minutes," Beverly said.  "Can you--"

 

                His finger flew to his lips as he shook his head frantically no.

 

                "Tell me what's for dinner?" she finished, pointing to her ear.

 

                Chakotay just shrugged in answer to the unspoken question.  "Deep dish pizza; I was thinking about Tom Paris earlier today and that just sounded good."

 

                "That does sound good," she agreed.  She didn't feel nearly as calm as she tried to sound.  "How about some wine?"

 

                He brought her a glass and pulled her to him for a tender kiss.  Her unquestioning faith in him was crucial in the current situation but it touched him to see it nonetheless.  "I love you, Fireball."

 

                The door chime sent a jolt thought both of them.  Chakotay moved to the computer and gestured for Beverly to get the door.  He waited until the door slid shut behind them and then activated the program.  "Okay, as far as the rest of the ship is concerned, for the next hour we are having a delightful dinner and telling stories of our Academy days."

 

                "What are we doing?" Riker asked.  Through Deanna he could feel palpable tension in the room.

 

                "Discussing a huge problem," Chakotay answered.  "I received a message from Vash earlier today.  She asked me to help her decode some writing found on Yadalla Prime."

 

                Beverly set her glass of wine down.  "That's where the two of you were trapped in the cave-in."

 

                "That's what got my attention," he said.  "When I pulled up the writing in question, it looked like the code that the Eh-Cu'oral were using."

 

                Puzzlement was quickly turning to alarm for Riker.  "Could you translate it?"

 

                Chakotay nodded yes.  "In it she said that Captain Picard is a fake, the real Picard is on the warbird and she's being watched.  The message said that the Enterprise would be destroyed if anyone discovers the situation."

 

                "What does she mean by fake?" Deanna asked.

 

                "I don't know," Chakotay replied.  "Pictographs don't really lend themselves to nuance and she may not be sure either.  If she's being watched, then she'd be constructing the messages completely from memory since she wouldn't be able to access language files without raising suspicion."

 

                "Not to mention the fact that the Eh-Cu'oral translation files are classified," Riker added.

 

                "The symbol she used could mean either twin or false," Chakotay explained.  "'True Picard on enemy ship' made me think that she meant false."

 

                Beverly had been replaying their interactions with the Remans.  "But when was he switched?  He did disappear briefly while we were on the warbird for that initial dinner."

 

                Riker had another thought.  "What about when he took Vash over to the warbird for lunch with the Praetor?"

 

                "Given how adamant he was about civilians leaving the ship," Chakotay guessed, "I'd have to say that the fake Picard beamed back from dinner with us."

 

                "Maybe lunch was to prove to Vash that Jean-Luc was still alive," Beverly suggested.

 

                Deanna caught Will's eye and picked up on his question before he asked it.  "Captain Picard has been more withdrawn since that dinner, but I haven't felt anything unusual from him."

 

                "If the Remans do have telepathic abilities," Riker was thinking out loud.  "They could have altered one of their own to look like the captain."

 

                Beverly agreed.  "That could have something to do with how they managed to grab power on Romulus to begin with."

 

                "But how could they duplicate his voice?" Deanna wondered.

 

                "It might be an android," Chakotay suggested.  "Or he could simply be using a voice synthesizer of some type."

 

                "If we could get some of his DNA," Beverly said.  "I could at least determine what we're dealing with; verify whether or not it's the real Jean-Luc Picard.  This may be some type of mental manipulation, although I can't imagine what purpose it would serve."

 

                Chakotay gestured.  "I can use the Eh-Cu'oral code to get back in touch with Vash and see if she can get us some of his DNA."

 

                Riker had an additional instruction to pass along.  "Tell her to play along with him for now.  We need time to figure out what's going on and, if the real captain is a prisoner, try to rescue him.  I'll fill Lar, Data and Geordi in on the situation quietly and we'll go from there."  He paused briefly.  "One thing I want understood by everyone, no matter what the cost, we can't allow an imposter to get anywhere near Earth."

 

.................................................................................

 

                Vash strolled down the corridors as casually as possible on her way to Deanna's office.  She had received Deanna's invitation to a chocolate fest shortly after managing to decipher Chakotay's message.  It was fairly easy to convince Shinzon that it was in his best interest for her to maintain her normal social calendar so as not to arouse any undue interest.  The covert acquisition of his genetic material was a much trickier operation.  She recalled Jean-Luc's softly whispered 'don't get caught' and the corners of her mouth quirked.  There had only ever been one man good enough to catch her and she briefly glanced down at her wedding ring with the thought, 'and sweetheart, I married you.'   Reaching Deanna's office, she rang the door chime.

 

                "Come in," Deanna called out.  She had sensed Vash's approach, turbulent emotions announcing her from the turbolift.  Deanna tossed her a can of whipped cream the moment she entered.  "We didn't wait for you, the chocolate is already on the table."

 

                Beverly watched Vash easily pluck the can from midair and laughed, "If we did that in front of the boys at the next poker game, do you think they would catch on that we're mocking the way they insist on throwing weapons to each other on the firing range."

 

                "Not a chance.  I guarantee you that if we start tossing cans of whipped cream back and forth during a poker game, all the boys will be able to think of is various uses for whipped cream," Deanna quipped as she used her own can to top off her cup of hot chocolate with a well-practiced dramatic flourish.

 

                "She has a point."  Vash allowed herself to draw strength from the easy camaraderie in the room.  This crew had managed to rescue Jean-Luc from the Borg; they would find a way to stop Shinzon and bring her husband safely home to her.  She gestured with a fudge brownie.  "But let's file that idea away for the next time we find ourselves down a few hands during a poker game."

 

                Knowing Vash was being watched, Beverly had given a great deal of thought to subject matter for their chocolate fest.  Something that would allow for limited double entendres as well as safe topics to laugh about.  "Ladies, it's time to discuss the next shipboard Crusher production."

 

                Deanna carefully posed her question.  "What about a revival of Phantom of the Opera.  The crew loved it the last time we did it."

 

                Vash shook her head knowing exactly what Deanna wasn't asking.  "That was a unique set of circumstances and Jean-Luc has steadfastly refused to do another role in one of Beverly's plays.  Christine has no Phantom."

 

                "It was a thought," Deanna sighed taking a truffle and dragging it through the whipped cream on her hot chocolate.  So, they weren't dealing with a mirror or alternate universe version of Jean-Luc Picard.  That explained why she felt no attraction from Vash for this imposter as she had for the mirror Picard.  Vash did not see whoever this was as another version of her husband.

 

                "Well, I guess Sound of Music is out.  Damn, Jean-Luc would have made a perfect Captain Von Trapp," Beverly feigned.

 

                "And just who would we have play Maria?  Not me.  Who in the galaxy would buy me as a virginal novice turned governess?"  Vash teased good-naturedly.

 

                "As fun as sticking you in a nun's habit would be, I thought it would be even more fun to cast Karita Leigh as Maria," Beverly confided with a naughty twinkle in her eye.

 

                For the first time in what seemed like days, Vash laughed.  Her assistant, Karita, was beginning to get over her apprehension around Starfleet officers having even started a romance with Lieutenant Sean Kennely, Vash's security guard.  However, the lovely young woman was still somewhat awestruck by the ship's captain.  Still giggling at the reactions that the casting would prompt from both her husband and her assistant, she asked the doctor, "Were you planning to use a hypospray to revive her when she faints in every scene she shares with Jean-Luc?"

 

                "If necessary," Beverly deadpanned in response.  It was a relief to see a flash of genuine humor from her friend in light of the situation.

 

                Deanna offered a defense as she reached for the chocolate-covered cherries.  "Karita did just fine during the performance of Don Juan in her scene with Will."

 

                "You weren't in my office for their first 'rehearsal.'  I'm not sure which was funnier Karita's babbling about Will being fairly good-looking for an older man and a good kisser if his reputation was to be believed or Will's reaction to it.  I can just see Karita nervously prattling on about all of the chapters devoted to the exploits of Jean-Luc Picard in her history class."  Vash reached over for one of the truffles in front of Deanna.  It felt good to talk about Jean-Luc.  "It's an academic exercise anyway, he won't do another play.  How about Reg Barclay as Captain Von Trapp."

 

                "That's an excellent idea."  Deanna nodded her agreement.

 

                "So what role would the Queen Bee want to play?" Beverly bantered using the nickname Will had bestowed on Vash.

 

                "Obviously the Baroness, because I'm not putting on a nun's habit," Vash stated emphatically.  She did have one question.  "I know there are a few children onboard but if we decide to put this on who will we get to play the Von Trapp children."

 

                Deanna rolled her eyes, "Have you seen some of the new ensigns just out of the academy.  I swear I've got lingerie older than some of them."

 

                A short time later, Vash regretfully slipped out of her chair.  It was time to face reality again.  Things would be a little easier knowing that she had co-conspirators in on the situation.  "Well girls, I'm going to head out."

 

                "We'll see you later," Deanna offered. 

 

                The two remaining women held their positions for a few minutes and continued on with their conversation for a few minutes after Vash had left.  Once they felt fairly confident that they were not being watched, Beverly surreptitiously placed the pair of men's underwear beneath Vash's chair into a medical bag to take to sickbay.

 

                Deanna whispered, "Well, I guess that answers the question about boxers or briefs."

 

……………………………………..

 

                Vash paused a moment in front of the door to the captain's quarters.  It was late afternoon and normally Jean-Luc would be on the bridge but somehow she knew Shinzon would be inside waiting for her.  With a sigh of resignation, she walked into the quarters.  He was sitting behind Jean-Luc's desk with his feet up and a recording of the shipboard performance of Phantom of the Opera playing on the desk monitor.  Jean-Luc's voice softly sang "You alone can make my song take flight - help me make the music of the night ..." and a fresh wave of desolation shot through Vash.  She forced the emotion aside and hissed, "shut it off."

 

                He smiled coldly. "But, it's such a impressive performance –"

 

                "I said shut it off!" With two swift angry strides, she moved to stand in front of the desk and reached over to shut off the recording.

 

                "Very well," he conceded.  "You appeared to enjoy your social gathering.  I must admit I'm curious about the conversation regarding this poker game.  Are Picard and the rest of the human males really so susceptible to your obvious feminine charms?"

 

                Vash carefully hid her relief that he had not noticed anything important.  Still, she had no desire to discuss with Shinzon any more about her relationship with her husband than was absolutely necessary.  She rolled her eyes, "Shouldn't you be on the bridge at this time of day."

 

                "No one so much as blinked when I left the bridge.  Does he leave his post frequently to visit you, his lovely wife?" he taunted.

 

                "Occasionally; although, it is more common for me to visit him in his ready room," she replied.  The statement had the benefit of not only being the truth but also assuring her continued access to the bridge if it were to become necessary.

 

                "You have bridge clearance?" Shinzon inquired somewhat skeptically.

 

                "Unless the ship is at yellow or red alert, I have fairly unfettered access to the bridge."

 

                "And this Karita Leigh?" he leaned back in the chair.

 

                "My assistant --" she began.

 

                "Yes, I know I looked up the name.  I take it from your conversation that she is fearful of the captain."

 

                Vash shrugged.  "Not really fearful, just a bit intimidated, sort of star struck.  She views him as a very heroic figure.  I was one of the Archaeology council members present on Karita's first field assignment when the entire expedition was taken captive –"

 

                "Ah yes, the Nimbus IV incident," he recalled.  "Picard managed to expose Proconsul Neral for the fool he is –or rather was.  I wasn't aware that she was part of that expedition. " 

 

"She was and, while she always had a bit of admiration for him, ever since that rescue, she gets excessively starry-eyed and tongue-tied whenever the legendary captain enters the room.  It's gotten a little better since she's been onboard, but I haven't quite cured her of it yet."

 

                "That's an intriguing piece of information."

 

                "Yes, well, here is another intriguing piece of information.  Karita is currently in a romantic relationship with a security officer.  It would behoove you to keep your distance from her.  You certainly don't want her putting a bug in her sweetheart's ear about the captain behaving oddly," Vash warned.  That would not only protect her young assistant, it would also serve to keep him out of her lab.  In a grandiose, and slightly melodramatic gesture, she swept her arm across the desk and knocked his feet to the floor.  "And if you insist on behaving foolishly, even my best performance will not save you from being detected as a fraud."

 

.......................................................................................

 

                Chakotay waited until everyone had arrived before he started the program.  This time it was a poker game being fed through the ship's systems as a cover for their meeting.  They didn't really know that they were being watched, but just in case someone got the urge to peek in on them they weren't taking any chances.  Once he indicated to them that the program was running, Data and Geordi stopped setting up the table for the game.

 

                "I'm not sure it's a good thing that you can manipulate the security system so easily, Commander," Lar pointed out.  "Helpful under the circumstances, perhaps, but when this is over, I'm going to take a look at that."

 

                Chakotay grinned in response.  "Maybe I should have made you the big winner in the game, a holographic bribe so to speak."

 

                "Let's get down to business," Riker interrupted the banter.  "How much time do we have?"

 

                "I set the game up to last just under three hours," Chakotay said.  "The computer will give us a ten minute warning."

 

                Riker perched himself on the edge of the desk.  "What are we dealing with, Doctor?"

 

                "A clone," Beverly answered.  "Genetically identical to Jean-Luc Picard but he's not as physiologically old as the captain--he hasn't existed as long.  He's either been cosmetically altered to look the same age as Captain Picard or he's been genetically aged to the same point.  There are some unusual RNA sequences that could have been put there for that purpose."

 

                Deanna noted the hesitancy in Crusher's voice and realized what was bothering the doctor.  "Based on the information we received from the Remans, their medical knowledge isn't advanced enough for genetic manipulation."

 

                "Exactly," Beverly agreed.

 

                "Perhaps a collaboration between Romulans and Remans?" Data suggested.  "Romulan scientists would have the knowledge and ability to create a clone."

 

                Lar saw where he was going.  "And the Remans may have the mental ability to allow the clone to pass for the real thing."

 

                Geordi grimaced.  "Well, I guess that answers our questions about how the Remans managed to get power."

 

                "Given the circumstances," Riker posed the question nobody wanted to address, "is a rescue operation even feasible?"  As much as he wanted to, there were other considerations.

 

                Everyone looked around the room pensively.  The silence was oppressive as the same thoughts ran through their minds.  Finally Chakotay spoke up.  "I can do it."

 

                "Chakotay?" Beverly was torn, Jean-Luc was a close friend whom she would do almost anything for, but Chakotay was her husband.

 

                "I can take the Kirk and try to sneak aboard the warbird to locate the captain," Chakotay said.  "Out of everyone here, I interact with Captain Picard on-duty the least.  As long as I'm not in the rotation for bridge duty, this clone shouldn't even notice that I'm gone."

 

                Data concurred.  "That is the most logical approach."

 

                "If you power down the shuttle's systems," Geordi suggested.  "You can manually synchronize the shuttle's shields with the warbird's and slide through unnoticed."

 

                Riker recalled someone else using that technique.  "Approach near one of the nacelles," he offered.

 

                Beverly bowed to the inevitable.  "Emergency transporter armbands, we once programmed them for individual sub-space forcefields.  That should keep you from showing up on internal sensors once you're on the warbird."

 

                "I should be able to augment the power supply to give you more time," Geordi offered.

 

                "I don't suppose that would come with a cloak," Chakotay mused with a hint of a grin.

 

                "I wish," Beverly shot back.

 

                Riker had a thought about that.  "What about altering his appearance like you did with Data and the captain before?  If he looks like a Romulan, he could move around more freely."

 

                Deanna corrected his suggestion.  "The majority of the crew that we saw on the warbird were Reman so that would probably give him more freedom."

 

                "Us," Riker concluded.  "This rescue is at least a two-person job.  Commander Chakotay and I will go.  We can arrange to have an accident on the holodeck; we fell while rock climbing.  The safeties prevented fatal injuries but we'll be confined to Sickbay or bed rest for at least a week."

 

                Lar had a problem with that.  "With Captain Picard gone, is it wise for you to leave the ship under the circumstances, Commander?"

 

                "Probably not," Riker replied.  "But Data can't be injured so his absence would be missed.  Geordi needs to work on finding and analyzing the explosive device that Vash said the clone had to hopefully find a way to neutralize it.  Dr. Crusher will need to run interference in Sickbay to keep this operation secret and of Deanna, you and myself, I'm the best pilot not to mention the potential usefulness of your telepathy and her empathy here.  Commander Chakotay and myself are the best candidates."

 

                Deanna didn't like it any more than Beverly, but she could feel his determination.  "Your absence from the Bridge may give the clone more confidence."

 

                "Perfect," Riker said.  "The more comfortable he is, the easier it'll be to take him down eventually."

 

                "There's a trick Voyager used in a battle once," Chakotay was thinking about the upcoming mission.  "We used holoprojections out in space to make attacking ships think we had reinforcements.  With a slight adjustment, we can use a holoprojection to make the Kirk look like space debris.  With the systems powered down, we shouldn't even show up on their sensors."

 

                Lar spoke up.  "I will re-program the Enterprise sensors to ignore the Kirk so that none of the crew inadvertently give anything away."

 

                "All right," Riker gave some final orders.  "Tomorrow Chakotay and I will be seriously injured in a holodeck accident.  Dr. Crusher will work up a medical report that keeps us off duty for at least a week and Mr. Lar will include that in his incident report to the captain.  Geordi, you and Data locate the explosive device.  If you can't neutralize it, find a way to minimize the damage.  Once we've retrieved the captain, we'll signal you.  The Remans will probably send an instruction to detonate so you'll need to be ready."

 

                "I'll take communications offline as soon as you signal," Lar offered.  "That may delay the clone realizing what's happening."

 

                "Unless they can send instructions telepathically," Deanna pointed out.

 

                Riker shrugged.  "That's where Data and Geordi come in."

 

                "One more thing," Chakotay said.  "Once I'm gone, communicating with Vash will be almost impossible.  If she receives messages, even in the Eh-Cu'oral code while I'm in Sickbay, the clone could get suspicious."

 

                "Beverly and I can cover that if the need arises," Deanna said.  "Data can write out brief messages and one of us can leave it lying where she'll see it.  It'll be limited, but better than nothing."

 

                Chakotay nodded.  "I'll put a message together with the plan we've got so she'll know what's coming."

 

                They spent a while longer discussing various exigency plans but nobody felt like playing a real game of poker under the circumstances.  Once they had switched back to the real view from the holographic game, everyone made their excuses to call it a night.  Before the door had even closed behind the last of their co-conspirators, Beverly was in Chakotay's arms.  Her lips claimed his in a desperate kiss while her hands caressed every millimeter of his face.  She knew what was at stake and they really didn't have a choice.  If Chakotay didn't at least try to rescue Jean-Luc before they stopped the clone, it would haunt them all.  She was just trying hard not to think about what it would do to her if she lost Chakotay.  There was just as good of a chance that she could end up dead if the clone carried through on his threat to blow up the Enterprise and it was unthinkable that the clone succeed in whatever his endgame truly was.  Tonight was all they had and it might have to last one of them a lifetime.

 

                He eased back, capturing her hands and meeting her gaze.  "I take it you want to wait until morning to turn me into a Reman?"

 

                His soft voice and that wry sense of humor coaxed a smile from her.  "If you think I'm going to have sex with a Reman, husband or not, you are out of your mind."

 

                "This from the woman who tried to turn herself into an Orion slave girl for me to have sex with," he bantered as he led her to the bed.  He wanted to remember every minute of this night.

 

                "You're never going to let that go, are you?" she chuckled, blushing. 

 

                He nuzzled her throat while his hands stripped off her uniform jacket.  "Probably not," he murmured against her skin.  "You were certainly the most colorful Orion slave girl I've ever encountered."

 

                She held her arms up to help him pull her shirt over her head.  "It was an allergic reaction and if you keep teasing me about it, I might just get over my aversion to corporal punishment long enough to give you a good hard spanking."

 

                Chakotay deftly unhooked her bra and began massaging her breasts, flicking his thumb across the stiffening nipples.  "Promises, promises; you know I still have that I.O.U. from the bet I won.  When this is all over maybe we can both take some leave and find a nice private spot for me to cash it in."

 

                Kicking out of her boots, Beverly stripped off her pants and underwear before setting to work on his clothes.  In short order they were both naked and she was urging him onto the bed.  She grunted in frustration when he resisted.  "Chakotay, please."

 

                "Patience, Fireball," he soothed, "we'll get there."  He called for a music selection from the computer and pulled her against him.  Their bodies pressed together, skin to skin in the dim light of their quarters, they swayed gently to the music.  Her head rested on his shoulder, her arms holding him to her as close as humanly possible.  With his world wrapped in his arms, everything else slowly faded away until the universe revolved solely around them. 

 

                It felt so good, so safe in his warm embrace with soft music playing in the background, that she could almost forget the panic she felt at the thought of what tomorrow held for them.  Her lips sought his, drawing him into a deep, timeless kiss.  His full lips covered hers, caressing them as his tongue urged her mouth open to him.  Desire sparked low in her hips and she could feel his body hardening against her.   Balancing on one foot, she brought her other leg up to encircle his waist, pressing herself intimately against his erection.  When his hands came down to cup her buttocks, she reached between their bodies to slide him inside her and practically purred at the feeling of fullness.  With their tongues and bodies entwined, they continued dancing. 

 

                He held her tight, his body buried deep inside her, amazed and aroused at the reminder of just how incredible his Fireball was.  She was smart, strong, passionate, unbelievably limber and she loved him; he was truly blessed to have reunited with her after all of those long, lonely years.  It wasn't long before his body began demanding more of her.  He coaxed her other leg up around his waist without breaking the kiss and carefully lowered them both to the bed.  Stretching their bodies out to lie full-length, his body never left hers.  At that point, he broke the kiss to pull his head back and watch her face as he began thrusting in and out of her body.  Slow easy strokes brought an expression of need when he pulled almost entirely out of her followed by unspeakable pleasure as he buried himself back inside.  Every nuance was mirrored in her beautiful face. 

 

                Arousal coursed through her body, heightened by the dark, intense look in Chakotay's eyes.  She arched up trying to increase the tempo only to be held tighter to prevent her from doing anything more than experiencing the pleasure he was giving her.  Managing to lift her head, she latched on to the tanned skin of his smooth, broad chest and sucked hard.  "To remember," she whispered when she laid back against the pillow.

 

                His hips jerked at the sharp streaks that shot through him from the actions of her mouth.  Before he gave in to his needs, however, he lowered his head to the upper slope of her breast and nuzzled it tenderly.  Leaving an answering mark on her breast, he smiled down at her, his hips almost taunting her until finally he began driving his body into her with long, powerful strokes.  He could feel her hips twisting up to meet his, challenging him for more and more.  The frenzy of their need pushed them both until they were gasping for breath yet unwilling to slow down.  His heart was pounding so hard he thought his chest was going to explode and the tight coil of desire in his hips was almost painful in its intensity. 

 

                She held off as long as she could, savoring the burning pleasure of his body driving into her hard and fast but ultimately the sensations overwhelmed her.  The orgasm came as hard and fast as the rhythm of their bodies and she cried out, her body convulsing in ecstasy.  Still lost in the aftermath of an intense release, she was vaguely aware of Chakotay's groan of satisfaction before he collapsed onto her.

 

                When he could muster the strength, he rolled to his side and pulled her into the cradle of his arms.  "I love you, Beverly; just trust in that no matter what."

 

..........................................................................................

 

                Reverently tracing the rank pips on the collar of his burgundy uniform tunic, Vash searched Jean-Luc's handsome, chiseled features and found his steel-grey eyes filled with love and devotion.  He lowered his face to hers and her eyes fluttered shut.  His lips were firm but pliant taking command of hers in a slow, deeply impassioned kiss.  His strong arms enveloped her and she melted against him, welcoming the safe haven she always found in his warm embrace.  He softly called her name and she clutched at him to pull him closer, refusing to open her eyes.  Nothing mattered but the tender caress of his lips against hers.  She pleaded simply, "Jean-Luc."

 

                Hearing her murmur her husband's name in her sleep, Shinzon reached out to touch her shoulder calling to her again, "Vash."

 

                Vash awoke, sitting bolt upright on the couch.  Pulling away from Shinzon's touch as if it was a branding iron, she nearly leapt off the couch to cross the room as far away from him as she could get.  She had not slept much the last few nights.  Having found the quarters empty when she had come in for lunch, she had laid down on the couch for a moment and must have drifted off.

 

                Taking in her startled reaction, he soothed, "easy, my dear, I'm not a monster."

 

                For a long moment, Vash stood with her back to him and took several deep breaths to calm her racing pulse.  Squaring her shoulders, she turned to face him.  "Really?  You've abducted and imprisoned my husband, threatened our lives as well as the lives of everyone on this ship in order to coerce me into helping you impersonate Jean-Luc and take control of his command for the benefit of an enemy to the Federation."

 

                "I stand corrected."  With a cold smile, he walked over to stand just in front of her.  "I am a monster."

 

                "You are, but I've dealt with worse."  Vash boldly met his gaze, refusing to yield any ground.  She noticed the PADD that he held in his other hand.  "I assume there is something you require my assistance with."

 

                "I received a report from Commander Lar about an incident on one of the holodecks.   Commander Riker and Commander Chakotay were running a rock-climbing simulation when they both fell a good distance onto a jagged rock face.  Although the safety protocols saved their miserable lives, they both suffered severe spinal injuries requiring them to be confined to sickbay for a week and they will both be unfit for duty for at least two weeks.  You will tell me how your precious Jean-Luc would handle this situation.  After all, I wouldn't want to do something foolish that would jeopardize what has been a truly stellar performance on your part."

 

                Vash ignored the snide taunt.  Chakotay's message had told her to expect something like this, an event that would keep Will and him out of circulation in preparation for a rescue attempt.  Play along was what they'd told her to do through the code, which meant that was what they were counting on.  Obviously in this situation they would need her to run interference with Shinzon and keep him out of sickbay.  "You must remember that Jean-Luc is a very private man and doesn't show his feelings to his crew.  Ever since we were first married, I have been the social face of his command.  You should immediately re-arrange the duty roster so that neither Beverly nor Deanna are pulling Bridge duty to give them time to spend with their husbands.  It is exactly the inconspicuous act of kindness both men have come to expect from their commanding officer.  I will make sure to visit them in sickbay with their captain's best wishes for a quick recovery."

 

                "Very well," he flopped himself down in a nearby chair.  "But do not forget that I will be watching your visit to make sure that you remain on your best behavior."

 

                "As if you'd let me forget," she snapped.  "Also, after the two men are completely well, Jean-Luc would good-naturedly chastise both men about acting their age; just a casual, off-hand remark when you see them."

 

                "You humans are pathetic," he muttered, tossing the PADD onto the table in front of him.

 

                Vash headed for the door.  She was unwilling to spend any more time in their quarters with him than necessary.  "Well, this pathetic human has work waiting for her back at her lab.  I'll be in my office."

 

............................................................................................

 

                Riker coaxed one last burst from the maneuvering thrusters.  So far the plan had gone perfectly.  Data had spent the night outfitting the Kirk's hull with holoemitters so the deflector wouldn't have to be monopolized for the deception.  The Kirk was now less than twenty meters from the hull of the warbird with no indication that anyone onboard knew they were there.

 

                "I can't find Captain Picard's lifesign," Chakotay said.  "I'm going to tap into their systems."

 

                Neither of them said what they were both thinking.  Riker knew from the beginning that Picard could have been killed after being shown to Vash, assuming that the Remans wouldn't have been able to fool her.  Given her experience with an alternate version of the captain, he couldn't imagine her telling them that the true Picard was here if she wasn't sure.

 

                "I found him," Chakotay announced.  "He's alive but there's a scattering field around the brig; we won't be able to transport him out."

 

                "We didn't really expect it to be that easy anyway," Riker replied.  "Otherwise we wouldn't have needed these beautiful faces."

 

                Chakotay's answering grin was distorted by the grotesque features of his Reman visage.  "There's not much activity around the brig at the moment, but we should probably watch for a bit to see how often they check on him."

 

                The time passed silently, neither man in the mood for idle conversation.  Chakotay noted each time someone passed near the brig, paying special attention when the individual actually entered the brig.  Finally they had enough information to proceed.

 

                "Most of the ship is quiet," Riker observed.  "This must be a sleep cycle.  I'll beam you over and monitor from here.  Once you get to the captain, activate the transport beacon and I'll beam you back.  With luck we'll be back on the Enterprise and dealing with the clone by breakfast."

 

                "With a lot of luck," Chakotay remarked grimly.  He activated his armband and checked to make sure he had an armband for Picard.  Beverly had prepared three, one each for Riker and himself and an extra one just in case.  He had a tool kit with everything he might need to disable a security system or device; for the first time in his life, he actually felt like a criminal.

 

                Riker energized and as soon as Chakotay vanished, he turned his attention to the warbird's internal sensor feed that Chaktoay had established earlier.  As far as he could tell, the transport went unnoticed.  The sub-space field that the armband generated was working; there was no sign of Chakotay on any sensors.

 

...............................................................................................

 

                "So Beverly, how are the amazing, falling Zucchini brothers doing today," Vash brightly greeted her friend.  She carried a small arrangement of flowers in a vase.

 

                Beverly glanced over at her two holographic patients.  The holoemitters in Sickbay weren't really intended for this purpose but Vash and Deanna had proven their effectiveness when they had programmed in a stripping Starfleet security officer as part of a bachelorette chocolate fest.  Any time the clone checked into Sickbay, he would see Chakotay and Riker side-by-side on biobeds.  She had even programmed in readings in case he pulled up the sensor logs from the beds.  "They're getting better, slowly.  Of course that just gives them both plenty of time to lay there and count all the bones in their bodies--the ones they broke and the ones they could have broken."

 

                "May they have a visitor?"  Vash inquired.

 

                "Briefly," she advised.

 

                "Gentlemen, Jean-Luc sends his best wishes for a swift recovery."  Vash placed the floral arrangement on a table between the two biobeds.

 

                "I don't suppose you want to hear our explanation for this?" The holographic Riker inquired hopefully.

 

                "I'll listen, but you both know I won't buy it any more than your own wives did," she teased back.

 

                The holographic Chakotay spoke up, "See, I told you.  We're never going to live this one down."

 

                "From what I've heard, you both had a little granite poisoning to go along with that testosterone poisoning," Vash played along, realizing that, in an odd way, she was bantering with Chakotay since he probably had a hand in writing the holographic program being used.

 

                "Actually it was sandstone," the holographic Chakotay corrected with a shrug followed by a soft groan.

 

                Beverly took her cue.  "Vash," she prompted.

 

                "Okay boys, rest up and behave yourselves." Vash smiled.

 

                "Yes, ma'am," both replied in unison.

 

                As Vash was getting up, Beverly casually gestured to the EMH who had appeared to tend to the holographic Chakotay and Riker.  "I just love whoever came up with that Emergency Medical Hologram program.  I find myself using it constantly just for the sake of convenience.  It really frees up my staff from tending to long-term patients.  I don't know what I'd do without it."

 

                "There's a lot to be said for modern conveniences."  Vash swallowed a grin.  She knew full well that Beverly absolutely hated the idea of using the Emergency Medical Hologram in her sickbay and had made that comment as much for her amusement as to cover the fact that none of her staff were getting anywhere near Riker or Chakotay.  Hopefully it wouldn't have taken anyone on her staff too long to figure out that two of the patients weren't real and this way would minimize the chance of an accidental slip.  The fewer people who knew about the situation the better.  "I should let you get back to work."

 

                "I'll see you later, Vash." Beverly touched her shoulder softly before heading back to her office.  If the clone had been watching, he would have no reason to suspect anything.

 

.................................................................................................

 

                An alarm began flashing on the Kirk's console.  Riker barely had time to identify the cause before the warbird's engines powered up.  He watched the warbird move off, out of the Rift on a direct course for Romulus with Chakotay and Picard still onboard.  It took less than a minute for him to weigh his options.  Quickly re-programming the holoemitters to make the Kirk appear to be a cargo ship, he set a pursuit course.  The alternative was to return to the Enterprise and face the trio alone, without back-up.  He'd rather face the Romulan Empire.

 

.................................................................................................

 

                Geordi entered Sickbay and looked around.  Finding Dr. Crusher in her office, he entered.  "How are Commander Riker and Chakotay doing?"

 

                "Fine," she answered.  "They're resting now but you can stop back later if you want."

 

                "That's all right," he waved off her offer.  "Just give them my regards; actually I came to see you.  I've got a bit of a headache and I wondered if you could give me something for it."

 

                Standing up, she quickly produced a medical tricorder and started scanning him.  "When did it start?"

 

                "A little while ago," he answered in a non-committal tone.  "I've just been working too hard lately.  Since things are going so well with the Remans, I'm thinking about putting in for some leave time as soon as we get to Earth."

 

                Beverly was hoping that he wasn't saying what she thought he meant.  "I don't know how soon we'll be back in the Sol system.  I thought the warbird was supposed to escort us on to Romulus for diplomatic meetings."

 

                "Apparently the first talks have been more successful than they expected," Geordi said.  "We set course out of the Rift back toward Earth.  We'll be there in less than a week at our current speed."

 

                "Well," she pressed a hypospray against his neck.  "This should tide you over until then."

 

                Sending Geordi on his way, she pulled out an emergency data chip that Chakotay had given her before he'd left.  It provided her with instructions on routing a message through the ship's power grid and encoding it in the waste energy from the propulsion system.  This would make the transmission almost indistinguishable from galactic background noise.  She checked to make sure they were clear of the Rift so the message wouldn't get lost among the interference.  The message was a request for help from his Voyager crewmates.  His recorded message asked Tom Paris to bring the EMH and his holoemitter quickly and quietly, stressing the importance of secrecy.  He promised to explain the situation later but that under no circumstances should anyone try to make contact with the Enterprise.

 

                Once the message had been sent, she accessed long range sensors.  This would only work if the Voluspa was close enough for the Delta Flyer to rendezvous with them in time.

 

 ................................................................................................

 

                Chakotay put on his most menacing expression when the two Reman soldiers approached him in the dark corridor.  He didn't relax until they had passed him and turned down another corridor.  He'd felt the ship power up and jump to warp a short while later.  All things considered, there was no pressing need to get to the captain so he'd done some scouting around the ship.  Finally he was near the brig with nobody else around.  Sauntering inside, he was relieved to see that there was no guard on-duty in the room.

 

                "What?" Picard's voice was weary but clipped with anger.

 

                "The Queen Bee sends her regards," Chakotay said softly.  "It's Commander Chakotay courtesy of Fireball's skill at cosmetic alterations.  She said to tell you that Romulans are easier to duplicate than Remans."

 

                Picard studied the face carefully, trying to determine if this was a trick.  The references were right but still.  "How did you know?"

 

                "Vash," Chakotay whispered.  "She used that psychotic secret code she was so upset about to get me a message.  We know he's a clone and that you were being held here."

 

                "He's threatening to destroy the ship," Picard said.

 

                Chakotay motioned reassuringly.  "The rest of the senior staff is working on a plan to deal with that.  Riker and I came to rescue you first; unfortunately the ship took off so we'll have to wait for them to drop out of warp."

 

                "How are you able to escape detection?"

 

                Holding out his arm, Chakotay showed him the emergency transporter armband.  "My own personal sub-space forcefield."

 

                "How long do you have?"  Picard asked.

 

                "About another hour and a half," he answered.  "But Beverly gave me one for you just in case so I can use that one if you don't mind sitting tight for a while longer."

 

                "Make it so," a grin flickered across Picard's face for the first time in days.

 

...............................................................................................

 

                Beverly was sitting at the holographic Chakotay's bedside.  Even though she had seen his face every day, she missed him so much that it hurt.  The strain was wearing on everyone, but the clone seemed to be relaxing into his role with each passing day.  He was wandering the corridors and having dinner with Vash in Ten Forward almost every night.  An indicator began flashing on the biobed and she quickly reset the readout before rushing to her office.  With the door closed, she spun the computer monitor around and accessed the secondary communications node.

 

                "Dr. Crusher," Tom Paris greeted her.  "Where's Chakotay?"

 

                "Long story," she said.  "Did you bring him?"

 

                Tom adjusted his viewer to show her the Doctor sitting behind him.

 

                "We have a bit of a problem onboard," Beverly understated.  "Our security chief has masked the Delta Flyer's signal so you aren't showing up on our sensors.  I need you to stay close for now but I need the EMH and his holoemitter over here."

 

                Deactivating the Doctor, Tom laid the emitter on the console in front of him.  "Give me your shield frequencies and I can match them for transport."

 

                In no time the emitter appeared on her desk.  She downloaded both Chakotay and Riker's physical parameters into the emitter before activating the Doctor.  "We have a clone of Captain Picard onboard.  Chakotay and Will Riker have gone to rescue the real Jean-Luc but the fake one can't know that they're gone.  That's where you come in," Beverly summarized their week of hell.

 

.............................................................................................

 

                The warbird dropped out of warp and entered orbit of Romulus with a cargo ship not far behind.  Riker established an orbit as close as he dared without attracting attention.  He started scanning the ship for the transport beacon.  Chakotay would have to get the shields off-line--not part of the original plan-- but necessary given the unforeseen circumstances.  While he waited, he reconfigured the annular confinement beam to its tightest parameters.  This far into Romulan space, they had to try to avoid detection as much as possible if they wanted enough of a head start to make it back to Federation space.  The shields dropped and he locked onto the beacon, energizing before the shields went back up.  Turning around, he watched only Chakotay materialize.

 

                "Captain Picard was taken to the surface," Chakotay said.

 

                Riker adjusted his flight path.  "Looks like we're visiting Romulus."

 

...................................................................................................

 

                As was becoming Shinzon's favorite activity, Vash and he were having dinner in Ten Forward.  She wasn't sure if he did this just to torture her or if he was using these dinners as a way to ease into his role as Captain Picard.  She was a step in front of him with his hand resting on the small of her back as they wove through the tables to a table by the windows.  While outwardly smiling at different crewmembers they passed, Vash inwardly cringed at the feeling of Shinzon's hand on her back.  What appeared to be a tender husbandly gesture was in fact a cold, tacit reminder of the chain that kept her shackled.  She stopped short at the next table and her eyes widened at the sight of Beverly and Chakotay having dinner.  If Chakotay was back did that mean the rescue attempt was successful?  Was Jean-Luc back onboard or could he be . . .?

 

                "Doctor, Commander.  I must admit I'm surprised but pleased to see you up and about, Mr. Chakotay," Shinzon addressed the pair.

 

                "Although neither Will nor Chakotay is fit for duty yet, I felt light activity would be permissible and even beneficial to help facilitate recovery."  With her right hand Beverly reached across herself to rub her left upper arm.

 

"I take it you're feeling better?" Vash inquired to Chakotay, desperately wanting to know about the rescue attempt.  Beverly was obviously trying to tell her something with the way she rubbed her arm but what?

 

                "Yes, I am feeling much better.  Thank you, Mrs. Picard."

 

                Although the voice sounded like Chakotay's, the clipped formal speech and the way he said Mrs. Picard instead of the more brotherly tone Chakotay always used with her made her think that this wasn't even the real Chakotay.  The thought flashed through her mind that there were way too many versions of people running around the Enterprise these days.  Ten Forward didn't have holoemitters so how could this be a hologram?  Of course, Voyager's EMH, he had a mobile emitter that allowed him to move outside of holographic environments.  A twenty-ninth century device acquired from a man named Henry Starling during a trip to Earth's past if Vash remembered correctly.  Vash had met 'the doctor', as Chakotay had always referred to him, on several occasions.  He had helped them out during one shore leave when Jean-Luc had mistakenly bought Dalevian chocolates instead of Delavian chocolates for her, Beverly and Deanna to share.  Beverly had rubbed her arm where the EMH commonly wore his mobile emitter

 

                "Well, if you and Commander Riker would simply remember your age instead of acting like a couple of cadets trying to outdo each other on shore leave, we could avoid these little unpleasant outcomes,"  Shinzon smiled, making sure to keep his tone good-natured.  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Vash's almost imperceptible nod of approval.

 

                "Yes, Captain.  Fireball has been giving me that exact lecture for the past week," the Emergency Chakotay Hologram replied.

 

                "I'm sure she has," Vash chuckled before turning to Shinzon.  "Jean-Luc, we should head on to our table."

 

                "Of course, my dear,"  Shinzon replied.  He gave Beverly and Chakotay a curt nod as they continued on their way.

 

                Once he was sure that they were out of earshot, the EMH lowered his voice so that only Beverly could hear him.  "Do you think it worked?"

 

                Beverly nodded and folded her hands on the table in front of her.  "Remember, he's busy trying to convince everyone that he is who he appears to be."  The EMH was a good friend of Chakotay's but still it was a strain to be talking to what looked and sounded like her husband and yet wasn't.   Once again, she was hit by the thought of the incredible stress Vash had to be under, literally living with the enemy—one who looked and sounded exactly like her own husband.  At least her version of Chakotay was a good man and had an off switch to boot.

 

                The EMH shook his head.  "I can't imagine how difficult this is for all of you.  I can't recall any situation like this that we faced in the Delta Quadrant and I thought we experienced every disaster that could possibly happen.  Well, except for the time that I was forced to steal Voyager's warp core in order to save Captain Janeway's life.  That is where I first impersonated your husband.  I was the evil duplicate that time you might say.  Did Commander—I mean-- have I ever told you that story?" 

 

                "No," she chuckled.  Maybe she could get some good stories about Chakotay before he got back.

 

                Reaching their table, Shinzon held Vash's chair for her before seating himself.  "Fireball?"

 

                Vash gave a small smile at the nickname.  "Chakotay and Beverly met during their Academy days and Fireball has been his nickname for her ever since."

 

                "I see; a reference to her hair color I assume."

 

                "Most likely," she answered noncommittally before adding, "you might want to review your French.  Jean-Luc almost always uses French endearments for me instead of their standard equivalents."

 

                "I'll make sure to do that in the future."

 

..............................................................................................................

 

                Riker and Chakotay strolled casually through the streets.  It was daylight so there weren't many Remans about; although, it was interesting to watch the Romulans give the two of them a wide berth.  The Kirk was hidden just outside the city, the holoemitters making it blend seamlessly with the surroundings.  They had managed to isolate Picard's lifesign and were trying to get to him without attracting attention.

 

                "I don't think I've ever seen a Romulan scared of anything," Riker noted, "and yet their reaction to us is fearful."

 

                Chakotay agreed.  "Apparently the Romulans and the Remans aren't the big happy family that the Praetor inferred."

 

                The coordinates where Picard's lifesign was turned out to be the Romulan senate building.  Without being able to speak Reman, trying to get through the front door might prove complicated so they sauntered around the side of the building.  A side door or back entrance for service staff would likely be less guarded.  The large, ornate building was breathtaking with its elegant architecture.  Chakotay marveled at the design, a little intimidated at the thought that he was traipsing around the heart of the Romulan Empire.

 

                "There," Riker gestured at a door at the back of the building.

 

                "The absence of any decoration on or around the door would indicate the kind of entrance that a lower caste member of Romulan society might use," Chakotay noted.

 

                Just inside the door, they hadn't even taken two steps when a band of Romulans attacked them.  Fending off blows from ancient staff weapons and knife thrusts, none of the combatants seemed inclined to call out for help.  Riker managed to take a staff away from one of his attackers, the time he'd spent training in anbo jytsu coming in handy.  He fought back a man and a woman using the staff to stay out of the reach of their knives.  "Chakotay," he hissed, wanting to know how the other man was faring.

 

                "Commander Chakotay, formerly of the Federation starship Voyager?" the female Romulan reacted to the single word and gestured for the fighting to cease.

 

                "Who wants to know?" Chakotay panted.  His knuckles were scraped, probably broken and he was bleeding where a knife had grazed his side.

 

                "Are you both human assassins from the Federation?" one of the men asked.

 

                Riker held up the staff, opening his hands in a gesture of truce.  "We're not assassins."

 

                "Pity," the woman remarked.  "I am Commander Donatra and you are?"

 

                Riker exchanged a glance with Chakotay who just shrugged.  "I am Commander William Riker of --"

 

                "The Federation flag ship Enterprise," Donatra finished for him.

 

                "Your new Praetor kidnapped our Captain Picard," Riker said.  He wasn't sure why but he felt he could trust them.  "We just want to get him back; we don't want to kill anybody."

 

                Donatra looked to the others who all nodded back.  "We want to do just that," she told them.  "Kill someone that is, but first we'll help you retrieve Picard.  We are no more interested in a conflict between the Romulan Empire and the Federation than you are."

 

                With the Romulans as their guides, the group quickly located the cell where Picard was being held.  Riker and Chakotay shared a moment of relief that the Remans hadn't decided to summarily execute him upon their arrival at Romulus.  Both men pointedly ignored the dead bodies of the Reman guards and focused on unlocking the cell door.

 

                "Captain Picard," Chakotay whispered.  "It's Chakotay and Commander Riker, we've come to get you out of here."

 

                Picard was at the cell door in an instant, a bit startled to see several Romulans standing with two Remans. 

 

                "Captain Picard," Donatra stepped forward.  "I am Commander Donatra of the Romulan fleet.  We regret that you have become involved in what we consider a matter of internal security."

 

                Picard inclined his head in greeting.  "I appreciate your assistance, Commander.  Perhaps I can buy you a drink some time."

 

                "Romulan ale, captain," Donatra smiled in return.  "But I'm afraid the drink will have to wait.  Senator Tal'Aura here will see that you and your men get safely out of the city.  We have important matters to attend to elsewhere in the senate building."

                 

..............................................................................................................

 

                The EMH double-checked his appearance to ensure that it was truly Commander Riker going to the captain's ready room.  He chuckled as he recalled juggling the appearances of half the senior staff on Voyager; impersonating two people was simple by comparison.  The PADD he carried contained operations reports that Data had prepared so that he could make an innocuous visit just to be seen.  Arriving on the Bridge, he nodded brusquely to the crew on-duty and made eye contact with the security chief.  He rang the chime to the ready room and waited.

 

                "Come," Shinzon called out.  He pushed away the cup of vile tea that everyone expected him to drink by the pot.

 

                The Emergency Riker Hologram strolled into the ready room and laid the PADD on the captain's desk.  "I thought you'd like to see the operations reports from the past week.  Just do me a favor and don't tell Dr. Crusher that I'm doing actual work.  I'm about ready to climb the walls at this point."

 

                "Well, I'm glad you're feeling better, Number One."

 

                "Yes, sir.  I'd like to thank you for rearranging Deanna's duty shifts--I know Commander Chakotay would also thank you on Dr. Crusher and his behalf.  It's no less than what I would have expected from you, sir; but I wanted to express my appreciation regardless."

 

                Shinzon waved casually.  "You're quite welcome but you should go and take it easy until Dr. Crusher approves you for duty.  I wouldn't want her angry with me for encouraging you."

 

...............................................................................................................

 

                Another poker game was in progress with the usual players in place. At a nod from Data, Lar began the briefing.  "Commander LaForge and I managed to isolate the explosive device, it's the signet ring that the Praetor presented to Captain Picard at the diplomatic dinner.  It's made of trilithium, enough to trigger a warp core explosion and destroy the ship."

 

                "The bigger problem is the amulet he's wearing," Geordi noted.  "A spike in the tertiary EM band showed thaleron in the center of it."

 

                "Thaleron?" Beverly gasped.  "Thaleron research was banned in the Federation because of its biogenic properties.  It has the ability to consume organic material at the subatomic level.  Even a microscopic amount could kill every living thing on this ship in a matter of seconds."

 

                Deanna got a chill.  "With his resemblance to Captain Picard, the clone could walk right into the Federation Council chamber with that trilithium and thaleron and use it to topple the United Federation of Planets in less than a minute."

 

                Data straightened his uniform jacket.  "That cannot be permitted.  The logical course of action is to destroy the Enterprise before we reach the Sol system."

 

                "What about Captain Picard?" Beverly argued.  "We haven't received a signal that they've retrieved him.  If this ship explodes--"

 

                "I would remind you, Doctor," Data interrupted her.  "With Captain Picard and Commander Riker gone, I am the next ranking command officer onboard and thus the decision is mine.  As I have observed Captain Picard do in the past, I am soliciting the input of my senior officers to aid me in my decision but ultimately the responsibility falls to me.  I must act to protect Earth and the Federation Council members from a very real threat regardless of the cost.  Is it possible to render the clone unconscious in less time than it would take him to detonate the trilithium?"

 

                "Not with any degree of certainty," Beverly acknowledged.

 

                Geordi reluctantly ruled out the next best solution.  "There's a program in the transporter system that will alert him to any transporter locks and I can't find a way around it so whatever we do we can't use the transporters."

 

                Data looked around the room.  "If we try to overwhelm him with force, he will trigger an explosion that will destroy this ship and everyone onboard.  We cannot allow him to proceed to Earth so the destruction of this ship seems inevitable; however, if there is a way to minimize the loss of life, I would be open to the suggestion."

 

                "We could quietly start sending people off in shuttles," Deanna suggested. 

 

                Lar spoke up.  "Even if we disable the computer alert, a self-destruct could be detected but if we use a modified pulse to destabilize the trilithium in his ring--"

 

                "We could eject the warp core beforehand," Geordi interrupted.  "With field generators providing a dampening field around that section of the ship, there might even be enough of her to refit when this is over."

 

                Beverly proposed going even further.  "If Vash can keep the clone occupied in their quarters and away from the computer, the crew can use escape pods as well as shuttles to get clear.  It will be tricky to completely evacuate the ship without using the comm system and there would be the matter of getting Vash out, but it might be possible to get out of this without losing anyone."

 

                Data's fingers flew across a PADD for a moment before he spoke.  If he had adrenaline it would be coursing through his system.  He knew that the Enterprise was expendable, but it was also surprisingly difficult to accept the loss of the ship, especially a ship that he was responsible for.  "I have just constructed a message with instructions for Mrs. Picard and sent it to her through Commander Chakotay's workstation.  Tom Paris is maintaining course and speed with the Enterprise.  The EMH will contact him and have him establish a transporter lock on Mrs. Picard.  We will signal him to transport her off the ship prior to the explosion.  Geordi, I need you to contact the clone with a reason for the ship to drop out of warp.  Counselor Troi, Dr. Crusher, begin the evacuation with civilians using non-essential personnel as shuttle pilots and instruct them to maintain strict communications silence.  Mr. Lar, prepare the pulse and then work with Commander LaForge.  Re-route Bridge functions to Engineering as the evacuation progresses; secure the computer core, the data can be recovered after the explosion.  Dismissed."

 

.................................................................................................................

 

                Chakotay was piloting the Kirk, still in his Reman disguise.  With the help of the Romulan senator, they had made it off Romulus.  According to Senator Tal'Aura, the group they'd run into had believed the Reman Praetor when he spoke of brotherhood and equality, making it sound like a Utopia and weaving an image of a new era of the Romulan Empire's dominance in the universe.  The reality they got was much different with the Remans terrorizing their former masters mentally as well as physically.  Those who had supported the Reman Praetor now felt it necessary to rectify their mistake.  The cargo ship holoprojection got them safely back to Federation space; although none of them breathed easy until they were completely out of Romulan space.  Unable to risk a transmission any sooner, Riker sent the signal that Picard was safe the second that they crossed the Neutral Zone but they had no way to know if the signal was received.  The three men traded off piloting duties so they could each get some sleep, all of them relieved to be back on the right side of the Neutral Zone yet knowing that there was one more hurdle to overcome ahead of them.  It wasn't hard to guess where they'd find the Enterprise, so they'd set course for Earth at maximum warp.

 

...................................................................................................................

 

                "What is this?"  Shinzon asked brusquely.  He had walked into the captain's quarters to find an odd looking round table with multicolored plastic chips in the center of the living room.

 

                "It won't do to have us miss anymore of the regular senior staff poker games.  I've cancelled for the last couple, but the senior staff will get curious if the captain and his wife suddenly stop attending entirely.  Even if I go alone, they'll ask about Jean-Luc."  Vash sat down at the table intentionally placing herself in the chair facing the windows.  She looked back over her shoulder to where he stood and taunted, "Jean-Luc is quite a card shark.  It's time to go to school, Shinzon; let's see if you can play with the big boys."

 

Geordi's voice interrupted Vash.  "Engineering to Captain Picard."

 

                "Picard," Shinzon replied.

 

                "Captain, we have a problem with the plasma manifolds, it's not serious but I'd suggest dropping out of warp for a couple of hours so I can get some people in there to correct the problem before it affects the warp core."

 

                "Fine."

 

                Shaking her head, Vash mouthed, "Make it so."

 

                "Make it so.  Picard out."  Closing the channel, Shinzon plopped himself down in the chair across from Vash.  "Listen, I can play anything your precious captain can figure out.  Take the cards; show me how it's played."  He picked up the deck of playing cards and tossed them to her before sitting down in the chair opposite from her.

 

"Let's start off with some basics."  Vash opened the deck of cards, pleased that he had taken the chair she wanted him to so that he now had his back to the window.   She shuffled the cards expertly, talking as the cards flipped through her hands.  She decided to have some fun; after all, if everything went according to plan, Shinzon would very soon fold -- permanently.   "First, each player gets six cards, except for the player on the dealer's right, who gets seven."

 

Shinzon nodded with understanding.  "On the right."

 

"Next you need to know the values of the different hands.  The lowest value cards are the twos or deuces and then up in numerical order to the aces at the top.  The lowest hand is one pair, or two cards of the same value.  Two pair are better than one pair but not as good as three of a kind.  If two players have the same pairs or trips as the three of a kind are called, the player with the highest odd cards determine the winning hand.  If they both have two pair and they're the same high pairs but different lower pairs, the lower pairs are compared to determine a winner.  Now, a straight is where the cards fall in numerical order and that's better than three of a kind unless it ends on a jack.  If all of the cards are the same suit, that's a flush, which beats a straight."

 

He watched her lay out the cards to show him examples of each type of hand, listening intently to her explanation.  "One pair then two pair then three of a kind and then a straight as long as it doesn't end on a jack and a flush.  Is that the highest hand?"

 

"No, if you have a pair and three of a kind that's a full house," Vash said. "Next comes four of a kind and then a straight flush which is where the cards are in numerical order and all of the same color—but don't forget that a straight that ends in a jack is a busted hand so it only counts as a flush in that situation.  A royal flush is when the cards are all the same suit and a straight that ends on an ace—basically it includes the royal family of jack, queen and king hence the term royal flush.  The highest hands you can get and the odds are astronomical—you could ask Data but I doubt even he could calculate the odds of a fizzbin much less a royal fizzbin.  A fizzbin is where you have three pairs but a royal fizzbin is when you have three pairs of face cards meaning the jacks, queens or kings."

 

Shinzon eyed the cards as she laid out examples of the different hands.  "One pair, two pair, three of a kind, straight unless it ends on a jack, flush, full house, straight flush unless it ends on a jack, royal flush, fizzbin and royal fizzbin; got it.  That's not so difficult." 

 

Vash grimaced as much to avoid laughing out loud as to cover her reaction to the sight of an escape pod through the window.  "That's just the basic order of the hands.  We haven't even started on the strategy of betting.  I mean you may know what you have, but you don't know what everyone else has so you have to bluff –which you can obviously do, but the other players will be bluffing as well."

 

"So everyone is trying to make all of the others think that they have the strongest hand whether they do or not."

 

"Exactly, but you do that by betting chips.  Everyone antes, or puts a chip into the center of the table, and then starting with the player to the dealer's right everyone bets a certain amount depending on how good their hand is.  They can also choose to check, or skip betting that round and they can also fold or throw in their cards and not play that hand if their cards aren't good enough."

 

Shinzon added that to his growing knowledge of poker.  "Ante then bet, check or fold."

 

Vash was almost sorry she wouldn't get to play this version of poker with him.  "Once someone bets, then anyone else in the hand can also decide to raise."

 

"Raise, as in increase the bet," he said.

 

"Right, except on Tuesdays."

 

.................................................................................................................

 

                Deanna ran the scan twice to be absolutely certain.  "Troi to Data, the last of the crew has been evacuated.  Vash and the clone are the only remaining life signs onboard apart from senior staff."

 

                "Understood, Counselor," Data acknowledged.  "Proceed to the shuttle bay and prepare the Calypso for launch.  Inform Mr. Paris to stand by."

 

                Beverly was standing beside him in the turbolift with six field generators at her feet.  "So far, so good; everyone's accounted for and the clone is completely oblivious."

 

                Data gestured toward the turbolift doors.  "To provide maximum containment, these field generators must be placed at junctions on each side of the captain's quarters as well as the levels above and below.  I will set the generators on the other two levels.  Once you have the dampening field online here, proceed directly to the shuttle bay."

 

                Beverly took two of the field generators and stepped off the turbolift.  Data was right about needing to act now, she just didn't like it.  If Chakotay and Riker had run into trouble and the Enterprise exploded, Jean-Luc would most likely be killed and possibly all three men would be executed if they hadn't been already.   Shaking that horrifying image out of her head, she set to work getting the first one in place.  She practically tip-toed past the captain's quarters, holding her breath and straining to hear every little noise.  Giving a brief thought to Vash, she hoped the other woman was all right in there.  She knew Vash was inventive, but just how she was keeping him occupied was a source of concern.  They didn't really have a choice and Jean-Luc would understand even though he wouldn't be too pleased that they'd left a civilian right smack in the middle of this situation until the very last second.  She set the other field generator and synchronized the dampening field with the first generator.  Once she had finished, she headed for the turbolift and waited until the doors closed to inform Data that she was on her way to the shuttle bay.

 

.........................................................................................

 

                "I still can't get a response," Riker said from the operations station.  "I've tried my quarters, your quarters, Deanna's office, Beverly's office . . . even the security office.  I don't want to risk hailing them without knowing the situation."

 

                From his seat at the helm, Picard was staring at the sensors almost as if to command them to tell him what all three men wanted desperately to know.  "At least they managed to get the ship stopped before they reached the Sol system.  According to the long range sensors, she doesn't appear to be moving."

 

                "Lar masked our signal," Chakotay pointed out.  "so as long as we approach from the rear, we should be able to board undetected."  He was trying not to think about why Beverly wouldn't be in Sickbay or their quarters.  Could the clone have discovered their little mutiny and tossed them in the brig or worse?  The fact that the Enterprise was still in one piece with no discernible damage or malfunctions showing up on sensors was good--as good as it would get until they were back and got some answers.

 

                "We'll drop out of warp fifteen million kilometers from the Enterprise's coordinates," Picard decided "and approach at impulse."

 

                Riker began working the controls at his console.  "Since we can't alert Dr. Crusher that we're back, Chakotay and I should beam directly to her office in Sickbay.  These disguises would be difficult to explain."

 

                "Agreed," Picard replied.  "I'll remain here on the Kirk until you have a situation update.  We can proceed from there."

 

.............................................................................................

 

                In Engineering, Lar acknowledged Data's orders and turned to Geordi.  "Field generators are online, we're ready to eject the warp core.  Give me a minute to disable the computer warnings."

 

                "Just say when," Geordi said with his hands poised over the controls.  He had already re-routed as much power as he could to the inertial dampeners and made a slight adjustment to the ship's gravity to minimize the inevitable jolt of the warp core ejection.  If the clone hadn't spent much time on a space ship, he probably wouldn't even notice.  Of course if he did, Vash would still be with him and she could fast talk her way through it.  The woman could hold her own against Ferengi, a Romulan or Reman clone didn't stand a chance.

 

                Lar made sure that the computer's internal sensors and alerts were all completely disabled.  "When."

 

                In less than a minute, the warp core was floating away from the Enterprise with barely a bump to mark its passing.  The two men sprinted for the door, calling to Data on the run to advise him that they were on their way.  Everyone else was onboard the Calypso when they arrived.  While Lar took his place at the tactical station, Geordi slid into the seat at the operations station.

 

                "Where's the EMH?" Deanna asked.

 

                Beverly waved reassuringly.  "He oversaw the evacuation of Sickbay and left with the medical staff on one of the last escape pods."

 

                "The modified pulse is online and standing by," Geordi said.

 

                Data started moving the Calypso toward the open shuttle bay door.  "Geordi, initiate the pulse on my mark then re-route power to the aft shields; we will be very close to the blast.  Lieutenant Commander Lar, signal Mr. Paris to initiate transport."

 

                "We're cutting this kind of close," Beverly noted with concern.  "I hope Tom has quick reflexes."

 

                Just as the Calypso cleared the shuttle bay doors, Data practically barked.  "Now!"

 

..................................................................................................................

 

                The Kirk dropped out of warp, the graceful lines of the Enterprise just a few minutes ahead of them at full impulse.  In the next instant an explosion seemed to rip the ship apart, shock waves buffeting the Flyer even at that distance.  All three stared, horrified at the image and too far away to do more than watch pieces of the Enterprise hurtling out into space.

 

                Chakotay noticed a piece of debris changing course and swiftly scanned the area, hoping against hope that he hadn't imagined it.  "I have multiple escape pods on sensors."

 

                Picard and Riker both reached for the communications system at the same time.  Picard reached his comm panel first and transmitted a hail.  He couldn't even let himself hope yet, he couldn't allow himself to feel anything until he knew that the threat to the Federation had been neutralized otherwise the grief would overwhelm him.

 

                "Captain Picard," Data responded to the hail from the Calypso.  "I am relieved to see you well.  Are Commanders Riker and Chakotay with you also?"

 

                "We're here, Data," Riker spoke up.

 

                Picard needed answers.  "What happened, Mr. Data?  What about . . . ?"

 

                The image of Data on the viewscreen in front of him went black only to be replaced by the very face he was desperate to see.  He didn't even care that she had obviously hacked into the transmission from another vessel, it only mattered that she was safe.

 

                "It's about time you got back," she huffed.  "You do realize that none of this would have happened if you'd taken me with you in the first place."

 

.................................................................................................................

 

                It was no surprise to Vash that Captain Kathryn Janeway on the Voluspa and Captain Morgan Bateson on the Bozeman were the first to respond to the Enterprise crew's distress signal.  Kathryn had probably brought the Voluspa as close as she could and maintained course and speed given that Tom and the EMH were already involved.  Standing on a deserted observation deck onboard the Bozeman, she gazed out at what was left of what had once been called the finest ship in the fleet.  The Enterprise drifted at a slight tilt, her sleek graceful lines marred by the jagged cavernous hole ripped into her side by the massive explosion.  Numerous shuttles buzzed in and around her as they prepared her to be towed back to spacedock.  As difficult as the sight of her home destroyed like that was for her, she could just imagine how awful it was for Jean-Luc.  Vash could only console herself with the knowledge that Shinzon was gone and with him the threat to the Federation.  She involuntarily jumped slightly and gasped when his reflection appeared in the window.  Seeing the gentle concern mirrored in those eyes, she instantly realized it was Jean-Luc.  "I'm sorry . . ."

 

                Stepping forward to encircle her with his arms, he cut her off,  "No, don't apologize, I wasn't thinking.  After what you've been through I probably shouldn't have come up from behind you."

 

                "I'm still a little jumpy," she admitted, leaning back against him.

 

From the preliminary reports, he knew that she had been trapped in their quarters, forced to spend many hours alone with this Shinzon.  He had to ask even though he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.  "Did he injure you?"

 

                "No, he never laid a hand on me.  I should probably be insulted that he never even tried to make a move on me, but I can't imagine getting through this if he hadn't been so indifferent so I'm not even going to fake indignation on that score.  Really, Jean-Luc, I'm fine," she assured him.  She changed the subject.  "I thought that your debriefing with Morgan and Kathryn would have lasted a lot longer."

 

                "He agreed with my recommendation for a recess until tomorrow morning and no, ma cherie, you're not fine.  I can feel you trembling.  It was less than subtly suggested to me that the considerable stress placed on you by these events has started to take its toll as if I wouldn't have known for myself."  He placed a kiss on the top of her head.

 

                "Deanna keeping empathic tabs on me?"  Her attempt at levity was belied by her voice cracking with the emotions whelming up inside her.

 

                "Most likely, but, it was Geoff Lar who actually voiced his concern."

 

                "That was very sweet of Geoffrey."  Turning to face him, she bit her lower lip but nothing would stop the deluge this time.  She buried her face in his shoulder, sobs wracking her body as the tight rein she held on her emotions finally snapped.   When the torrent gradually subsided, she looked up at him.  It was all over and he was here with her.  She reached up to pull his head down to her and crushed her mouth to his in a desperate kiss.  Her tongue rummaged the depths of his mouth, searching for and finding his.

 

                Picard savored the precious gift of having Vash in his arms.  There had been moments when he wondered if he would ever be given the chance to hold her again.   Along with the sweet taste of her kiss and the delicate scent of her perfume, he became aware of the way her small hands clutched him and the wetness of her tears against his face.   He reluctantly broke off the kiss, placing several brief, feathery kisses on lush lips before pulling back.  His hand reached out to gently brush the remaining tears from her cheeks.  He softly whispered, "I'm home."

 

                She cast her eyes downward, relieved that her back was now to the window and the wreckage of the Enterprise.  "For what it's worth," she whispered.  "From what I've heard the bridge and a few of the science labs are still intact so things in your ready room or my lab are most likely salvageable.  However, our quarters as well as most of the quarters on surrounding decks were obliterated in the blast.  Everything in our quarters is gone.  I wasn't able to keep Shinzon from destroying our home."

 

                Tenderly, he cupped her chin in his hand drawing her gaze up to his.  "None of that mattered the moment I saw your beautiful face on that view screen.  As far as I'm concerned my home is wherever you are.  As long as you are at my side, I am home.  Je t'aime, Vash."

 

                "Je t'aime," she vowed.  With a slight sniffle, she managed a small smile and teased, "Isn't it just like you to use that bedroom baritone of yours and wax lyrical about the great love between us to get out of replacing the baubles in my jewelry box."

 

                Relieved to see a flash of her usual impish humor, he chuckled, "After the miraculous stunt you managed to pull off without getting caught, I'll buy you two baubles for every one you lost."

 

                "Two for one, huh?"  Her smile brightened and she cooed, "we always did make a wonderful team."

 

                "Pardon the interruption, Captain."  Data walked onto the observation deck.  "I wish to speak with you if now would be acceptable."

 

                "What is it, Data?" Picard turned to address his officer.  When Vash began to discreetly step back out of the way, he casually reached down and laced his fingers with hers to keep her next to him.

 

                "I wish to express my regret with regard to my decision.  Specifically, I wish to formally apologize for the destruction of the Enterprise.  The choice to make the Enterprise expendable in this matter was difficult as was the choice to not wait for confirmation of your rescue.  At the time it seemed . . ."

                Picard held up his free hand to stave off the rather verbose explanation he knew would be forthcoming.  The suggestion that it was harder for Data to sacrifice the ship rather than the possibility of sacrificing him did make an eyebrow twitch but he wasn't in the mood to torture the officer at the moment.  "No apology necessary, Mr. Data.  Shinzon represented a grave threat to Federation security and had to be neutralized at any cost.  You handled a very difficult situation with no loss of Federation life.  Well done."

 

                "Thank you, sir," the android replied in a tone of relief.

 

                "Besides, it's not like you put Deanna in the pilot's chair," Picard deadpanned.

 

                Vash laughed as she warned, "boys, I'd watch that if I were you.  One of these days either that or the tequila jokes are going to cause sweet little Deanna to snap.  I've seen her on the holodeck in the Old West scenarios; she slings a mean shotgun.  She'll change you from a rooster to a hen with one shot."

 

***FINIS***