Fearful Symmetry (Trek uber-fic) UPDATED 9/3/10

[Tempest Duer]

I'm sure SOME lesbians can dress, Captain.

I got bitten by a drunk lesbian! Does that mean I'll turn into one?



~my friend Mary

[CaptMurdock]

mollyig: Nice to see you again! Frankly, I had misgivings about writing a sequel to Equilibration -- that old trying-to-catch-lightning-in-a-bottle-twice syndrome. Especially as, even though a good percentage of Kittens are also Trekkers, this isn't a Trek board. (That could be why I decided to put some juicy W/T scenes early on in this story -- you guys were so patient last time... I want to make sure I keep your attention). I definitely wanted to explore the early stages of their relationship, hence the whole "Let's try spending the night apart occasionally" thing which went over like a lead Zeppelin, and Tara's seeking out Devereux's advice which her "hypothetical couple" question. So many wonderful fics on this board explored the initial stages of the canon W/T; how could I not do so with our girls in this uber-fic?



cygnet 6: I am glad that you're able to keep up. I'm trying to make this story interesting to non-Trekkers as well as casual Trekkers or even full-on practically-wake-up-on-the-Enterprise fans, which can be difficult, believe you me. DS9 is probably my favorite of all the Trek series. I am somewhat vexed that now that Enterprise has gotten really good, UPN has cancelled it! As we say on Earth, c'est la vie.



Plus, this fic is going to introduce new characters, like Kaiser Muldoon, who actually appeared in a story that, well, I didn't actually set down on paper but I thought about a lot. Yeah, I know Inside my head is a scary, scary place. In addition, I'm going to bring in two more Buffyverse characters, one a longtime favorite of mine, but with some interesting twists that might not manifest in this story... Also, I regret to say that Faith will probably not appear in this story. I do plan on bringing her back someday, and she will be mentioned in an upcoming scene, one that might shed some light on her origins...and Murdock's.



Tempest Duer: Oh, I'm sure that some lesbians have great fashion sense. I was just keeping in tune with the name of this board. No offense intended.



Back to the dilithium mines for me! (and no answers to my "Fan mail from some flounder" challenge? I'm so disapointed...)

_________________



"She has illusion, and you have reality. May you find your way as pleasant." -- The Cage

[CaptMurdock]

Continued from before



****



At 1100 hours, Captain Murdock called the meeting to order.



At the head of the table, in the conference room off of the Main Bridge, was the captain. First Officer Faraday sat on his left, with Operations Manager Lt. Commander Gelfa Kolrami next to her; after the Zakdorn came the Trill Chief Engineer Jodell DaKar. Another chair, usually empty, now had Dr. Devereux.



In Devereux’s usual place, to the captain’s right, Tara sat rigidly, trying not to look as if she wanted to sink through the deck. Bad enough that Devereux decided to tell her about this on the spur of the moment…



“Lieutenant Maclay,” Faraday had said as Tara and Devereux walked into the conference room, the last to arrive. “This is the senior officers’ meeting.”



“Yes, ma’m – sir, I kn-know,” she had blurted in reply, tearing her gaze from Willow’s comforting face.



Devereux had piped in, “I thought that having Lt. Maclay here, strictly as an observer, would be good experience for her, Commander.”



“That’s as may be, Doctor,” the Sikh woman had replied evenly, “but you are required to clear with myself or Captain Murdock beforehand, and I –“



“Y’know, actually, Number One,” Murdock had interjected, just as Tara shot a look at Devereux which could have cracked cast rhodinium, “Dr. Devereux did clear it with me…I neglected to inform you. My bad.”



Faraday’s sidelong glance at the captain indicated, at least somewhat within the bounds of protocol, that she wasn’t buying that one for a second. If some of the expressions and traded subtle smirks going around the table were any indication, it wasn’t going to be on anybody’s best-seller list.



Nonetheless, the first officer knew better than to make an issue of it. With a smile that had seemed genuine (and, Tara felt empathically, was), Faraday had addressed Tara again. “In that case…welcome aboard, so to speak, Lieutenant.”



“Why don’t you take my usual spot, there?” Devereux had indicated the chair to the captain’s right. Tara felt as if she was being sent to the Academy superintendent’s office. Murdock smiled, probably guessing how she felt (Who’s supposed to be the card-carrying empath around here – him or me? Tara had thought with mild rancor), and merely commented on the confidentiality of the proceedings.



“Oh, yes sir,” she replied. “Kind of a watchword in my business.”



The meeting began with Dr. Govarr, the Tellarite chief medical officer on Tara’s right, detailing the status of Sickbay, which consisted solely of the report of Crewman Mendoza in the Isolation Care Unit for Vegan choriomeningitis. To Govarr’s right, Lt. Thelvran, the Andorian chief of security, gave his update on new security procedures; apparently the Maquis incursion of the ship two months ago gave Thelvran the idea that his security forces could be even more efficient…



“What do you want, Thel?” DaKar asked. “Your guys nabbed the Maquis almost before they finished beaming over!”



“They still managed to at least temporarily overwhelm the Main Bridge and Sickbay, two of the most vital areas of the ship,” Thelvran answered, his antennae twitching with feeling.



At the mention of the attack on the Bridge, Tara felt a spike of emotion from Captain Murdock – too quickly suppressed to be identified, but significant nonetheless. It didn't seem to be annoyance about the attack itself. She made a note for Devereux to ask him about it later.



“Yes, I know,” Govarr rumbled. “I had to subdue two Maquis by myself!”



“No doubt you gave them one of your Tellarite home remedies,” Thelvran had countered. DaKar chuckled at that, stifling his mirth when Faraday gave him a look. Willow practically had to bite her lower lip to keep from doing the same. Govarr bristled, a low growl coming from deep in his barrel chest. Tara was glad she was not sitting between the two. However, her empathic senses did not pick up any real hostility from the Tellarite, unusual for such a volatile race. Andorians, too, tended to be an aggressive mindset, but Thelvran’s psyche seemed quite relaxed as well. Tara would later conclude that the two of them, while not friends, had grown so accustomed to one another that nowadays their bickering was purely force of habit, almost a formality.



“Boys,” the captain intoned, “behave.” Govarr subsided as Thelvran nodded, not quite able to keep the satisfaction off his face.



DaKar reported that Engineering was ticking along as usual, with an aside about some drills that he scheduled for his people in assembling the back-up warp core that sat disassembled in the aft Engineering section near the stored antimatter pods. Kolrami reported on the status of the ship’s various resources, from holodeck usage to replicator power to shuttlecraft maintenance, which threatened to continue on until the captain or first officer cut her off. Tara had the feeling that a game had evolved here, with Kolrami seeing how long she could report on Operations before she got slammed to a stop.



Devereux gave a succinct report on the state of the crew’s mental health. “Situation normal. Everybody’s insane.”



“Oh, thank God,” Murdock muttered, responding to the running joke. He turned to Tara with mock solemnity. “Any outbreaks of sanity, you’re to report it immediately.



“Yes, sir!” Tara replied with equal gravity, tapping a (fake) instruction into the PADD she was making notes on.



Willow gave a quick précis of the various Science subdepartment’s projects, ending with a comment about Stellar Cartography’s planned long-range survey of the Icarus IV comet: “It kinda got shut down when we changed course unexpectedly. I asked Commander Kolrami about that, but she…”



“Understood, Lieutenant,” Murdock interjected. “Actually, since the main item on our agenda for this meeting has to do with our course change, let’s press on.



“Starfleet has ordered us to proceed to Adigeon Prime to investigate possible instances of illicit genetic engineering being performed.”



There were several indrawn breaths around the table. Tara’s empathic sense got quite a workout gauging the levels of surprise radiating from various people.



Willow, not unsurprisingly, was giving off waves of confusion. “Y’know, been kinda out of the loop for a while, but I thought genetic engineering was still forbidden by the Federation Constitution.”



“It is,” Dr. Govarr answered gruffly, “as well as by the Seldonis III convention—“



“—and the Second Khitomer Accords,” Murdock finished, “except under such circumstances as, uh, help me out, Doctor?”



“’Except where such conditions exist that the person in question is afflicted with a genetic disorder that may prove life-threatening beyond reasonable expectation of successful rehabilitative therapy.’ At least, that’s what is stated in the Starfleet Medical Code of Ethics under the relevant heading, “ Govarr averred.



“Right,” Murdock agreed. “Anyway, Starfleet Intelligence has gathered reports that genetic engineering has been performed on Adigeon Prime; our mission is to verify these reports, and, well, induce the local government to put a stop to it.”



“They’re not members of the Federation, are they?” Devereux inquired.



By way of answer, the captain motioned to Gelfa Kolrami, indicating that she should take that question. The Zakdorn cleared her throat and launched into her presentation. “To answer your question, no, Doctor, they are not. Adigeon Prime is a non-aligned world, outside not only the space listed as Federation territory, but also that claimed by the Cardassians, Ferengi and Tzenkethi. Although it has no indigenous intelligent species, it has been settled as a colony for almost two centuries, by various humanoid species, including but not limited to Ferengi, Dopterians, Xepolites, Zebalians, Flaxians, Tiburon, Klaestrons and other races,” Kolrami sniffed at this point, “somewhat on the fringes of what we would call civilized society.”



“Who does she mean by that?” Willow whispered to DaKar.



“Humans, probably,” the Trill murmured back quietly.



“Remarkably, the planet’s culture is relatively stable; it depends on trade with most of the major powers in the region, but it also boasts deposits of thorium, uridium, kelvanite, and borite,” Kolrami continued. “Between the mining and the trade, the inhabitants enjoy a relatively high standard of living. There is, even, a minor tourist establishment, revolving around a natural phenomenon involving a high-pressure geyser that supposedly smells of peppermint.



“The planet itself is, obviously, Class M, approximately .95 standard gee, two small moons. It is the sixth planet in a system of fifteen; several outer gas giants harbor deuterium-mining facilities, which no doubt contributes revenue to the planet’s economy—“



“Gelfa, I think we’re getting into extraneous detail here,” Murdock cut in.



“You always say that,” Kolrami muttered darkly, before subsiding.



“How long has Starfleet Intelligence estimated that the genetic engineering has been performed on Adigeon Prime?” Dr. Govarr asked.



“About twenty years, at least,” Murdock answered.



“And they’re just now getting around to it?” Willow inquired.



“In light of the recent difficulties we’ve had with the Dominion,” Faraday replied, “Starfleet Command feels that Adigeon Prime might be a potential stepping stone for our new adversaries. Since the Jem’Hadar reproduce by cloning, the facilities on that planet might be used to breed thousands of soldiers in a matter of weeks.”



“Not to mention, any ‘improvements’ the Dominion might want to make in their warrior class, Adigeon Prime might harbor the capability to do so,” Thelvran added.



“So what does Starfleet want us to do?” Devereux asked, leaning back in his chair laconically. “Go up and ask them politely to stop tinkering with chromosomes and play nice with the other kids?”



“More or less, yeah,” Murdock replied. “Actually, Starfleet was…a little vague in how they wanted us to, how shall I say it, proceed on this mission.”



“Hoo boy,” the counselor muttered.



“What does that mean?” Tara asked, momentarily forgetting that she was meant to be only an observer.



However, no one commented on this as Devereux answered. “It means that Starfleet is basically sending us out with our collective fanny hanging out, with the express purpose of seeing who’s going to shoot it off.”



“Oh,” Tara replied, chastened and somewhat annoyed.



“Leave it to the geniuses at Starfleet Command to come up with a plan like this,” Faraday added, sounding both nettled and amused.



“I, for one, enjoy this sort of mission,” Thelvran piped up enthusiastically. “A chance for some real adventure!”



Murdock smiled, as always bemused by the Andorian’s gung-ho attitude. “I’m happy that you’re happy, Lieutenant. Anyway, I’m certainly open to suggestions; I do have an idea that I want to sleep on first before I expose it to the light of day and possible ridicule. Gelfa, what’s our ETA to Adigeon Prime?”



She consulted a PADD and made a quick calculation before answering. “Seventy-four hours, present speed, Captain.”



“Good; that gives us a little preparation time. Onto the next item…” Murdock picked up his own PADD and gave it a quick perusal. Raising an eyebrow, he set it back down and addressed Tara. “Lieutenant, we now come to something that is highly classified. Would you please excuse us?”



“Yes, sir,” Tara answered, saving the notes on her own PADD and pushing back her chair. She noticed Willow preparing to get up as well, apparently in anticipation of being asked to leave the conference room as well.



“Not you, Willow,” Murdock called. “I need you here.”



“Oh. Okay, Captain.” She and Tara flashed see-you-later smiles at one another as the assistant counselor left the room.



As soon as the doors hissed shut behind Tara, Murdock leaned back in his chair, an almost predatory smile on his face. “So, Willow…does she suspect?”



Willow answered with a sickle-sharp smile of her own. “Not a thing.”

_________________



"She has illusion, and you have reality. May you find your way as pleasant." -- The Cage

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



Which is more terrifying, Jem Heddar with new cloning posibilities or the Senior Staff planning something that will probably start out benign?



My bet is the one that ends up having the fate of the universe hanging on Willow's knowledge of geometry (especially arcs), a length of garish festive garland, Tara's skill with the old tablecloth trick and...a ancient can of can of twenty-first century Silly String that Murdock just 'happens' to have stashed away.



Not that I'm saying our CaptMurdock's plot twists have made me paranoid, you realize. They're just very thought provoking. And I'm waiting for more after that little closing scene!



I hope your computer behaves and you get time to write more soon!





Jixer

[Artemis]

Hmm, this 'classified matter' wouldn't have anything to do with Willow's mysterious 'magic' reservations at Calavicci's, would it?



On more serious matters, genetic engineering, that's probably bad (given the current scorecard: about five genial geniuses, plus or minus some eccentricities, versus several thousand insane warlords). And yes, that does sound like a typical Starfleet Command plan - send in a ship and see who loses their cool and starts shooting at it (though having your 'fanny' shot off sounds much more painful to an Australian than it would to an American - it's, uh, a different bit of anatomy to us).



I really enjoyed the briefing - sounds like a well-run starship, everyone doing their jobs without stressing too much, all used to each other's quirks. And of course all the references to Trek species and so on were geek heaven Thanks for the update

Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass

A Willow and Tara for every world.

Smut Bunnies!: Saving the world, sexily!

[Tempest Duer]

I'm wondering about classified restaurant matters myself.

I got bitten by a drunk lesbian! Does that mean I'll turn into one?



~my friend Mary

[mollyig]

Faraday is such a stickler for protocol, isn't she. Although I suppose with Murdock in charge she has to be, as he tends, at times, to have a bit of the rogue about him!



Starfleet's instruction to the Hannibal is intriguing, being as vague as it is. It's more than a scouting mission, so it seems unusual to send one ship to try to police a planet. Although, admittedly, the Hannibal is more than able for the task.



Can't wait to find out what the plotting is all about!



Thanks!

---

You stay the course, you hold the line, you keep it all together.

You're the one true thing I know I can believe in - Sarah McLachlan

[hermitfish]

Hi-ya Capt...so much to comment upon...especially as I've been lax in my commentary. What I really like, in general, is the interactions between W/T in your stories. Rather than have them in a perfect happy scenario, you create these realistic complexities and emotions that add a great dimension to the story. I also love the idiosyncrasies of the crew...not many writers can have so many characters in a story and still have them be actually interesting. Plot wise, I too am interested in Willow's secret plans and a little worried when I read 'genetic engineering'...sounds like some sinister plot may be a brewin'. I guess I'll sign off with a salute or bow at your feet...you have a preference?



~Cyd

---

And I recall in spring

The perfume that the air would bring

to the indolent town ~Decemberists

[Artemis]

Quote:

---

BTW...what part of the anatomy is the 'fanny' Down Under?

---

Um, what's a tactful and thematic way to explain it... 'main shuttlebay'? 'Primary docking port' (not the rear docking port)? Where a really absent-minded Trill surgeon might accidentally stick a symbiont? Okay, that's just getting silly... You get the idea. It's old-fashioned slang, pretty much completely superseded by 'pussy'.



So, yeah, that episode of Sabrina the Teenaged Witch where she magicked herself into a pop star and sang a boppy little song about shaking her fanny... after about a week, I managed to stop laughing

Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass

A Willow and Tara for every world.

Smut Bunnies!: Saving the world, sexily!

Edited by: Artemis at: 3/20/05 9:04 am

[CaptMurdock]

Ahhh, me public. I'm such a feedback whore...



jixer:

Quote:

---

My bet is the one that ends up having the fate of the universe hanging on Willow's knowledge of geometry (especially arcs), a length of garish festive garland, Tara's skill with the old tablecloth trick and...a ancient can of can of twenty-first century Silly String that Murdock just 'happens' to have stashed away.

---

Amazing! You managed to guess the entire conclusion to the 'A'-plot...except for the expandable watchband and the box of Wheat Thins. Are you implying that I lace with my stories with cheap gimmicks? Perish forbid...



(The computer is behaving nicely these days, thank you. That's actually because it's a new computer. CompUSA came through and replaced the old laptop -- and even kicked in for the disk-to-disk data transfer! )



Artemis: (also Tempest Duer and hermitfish)

Quote:

---

Hmm, this 'classified matter' wouldn't have anything to do with Willow's mysterious 'magic' reservations at Calavicci's, would it?

---

I don't think it will give to much away to say that. You guys should love that scene. Much & goodness . Frankly, we're all going to need it later on in this story.

Quote:

---

I really enjoyed the briefing - sounds like a well-run starship, everyone doing their jobs without stressing too much, all used to each other's quirks. And of course all the references to Trek species and so on were geek heaven.

---

One of the things that always bugged me about TNG was the fact that all the staff of the Enterprise-D were so nice to each other. Not just respectful, but never disagreeing, at least not seriously. The Hannibal officers, too, respect one another and have worked together for several years and by now have worked out a lot of their antipathies (e.g. Thelvran and Govarr) but their different personalities make for much more varied interaction. (One of the things that surprised me -- and I created these characters! -- is that while Kolrami is certainly respected by the captain and the other senior officers, the only ones she can truly call friends are DaKar and Faraday.)



(BTW...what part of the anatomy is the 'fanny' Down Under? Oh, for a different phrasing...)



mollig: As I mentioned in the previous story thread, Faraday seems to be 'Mom' of the senior staff. I think Murdock, during the selection process for a first officer, said to himself, "I need someone whose going to remind me of the regulations, but won't get to pissed when I bend them a little."



I will try to update soon, Kittens but I am starting yet another temp assignment... See you soon, hopefully!

_________________



"She has illusion, and you have reality. May you find your way as pleasant." -- The Cage

[CaptMurdock]

The final part of Chapter One:



****



Several hours later, after Alpha Shift had been relieved, Devereux went to find Murdock. When the computer informed him that he was in the gymnasium, he was hardly surprised. The counselor sighed; he knew the captain had been obsessed about something for the past couple of months, ever since the Maquis attack. Devereux knew that getting whatever was bugging Murdock out of him was going to be like pulling teeth from a cow. Without pliers.



Sure enough, the captain was dressed in the same kind of silk shorts and sleeveless pullover that he affected whenever he ran this boxing program in this half-assed mini-holodeck he and DaKar had gadgeted together. Devereux wondered briefly if Murdock had discussed his problem, whatever it was, with the Trill, given their history together. He toyed with the idea of asking DaKar and getting the story out of him, rather than dealing with Murdock so directly.



Unfortunately, Devereux mused as he watched, from a discreet distance, Murdock maneuvering opposite his holographic sparring partner, the same talkative fellow that Willow and Tara had glimpsed on another occasion, as big a blabbermouth as DaKar is, he’s pretty tightlipped when it comes to Sam. Even if Sam told him…which I doubt…Jodell’s not gonna spill. Guess I’m going to have to do this the hard way. Boy, if my job was any more fun, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.



The holo-boxer nailed Murdock with a nice right hook and danced away from the counterattack. “C’mon, baby, what I’d tell ya? Stick and move, stick and move!” The boxer kept up his commentary even as Murdock pelted him with jabs, some of which connected, some not. “You ain’t glued to the floor. Move your feet, and keep to the beat! Float like the butterfly, sting like—“



“Yeah yeah yeah,” Murdock muttered as he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, blocking another hook, answering with a couple of rapidfire jabs. Devereux, knowing better than to interrupt, took a seat on the nearby bench, watching the sparring and being once again amazed at the speed and power the captain possessed. Most of the jabs and punches the captain threw, and received or dodged in turn, were faster than Devereux could follow. It made the counselor tired just to watch.



Finally, after about three minutes, a bell sounded from nowhere in particular, signaling the end of the “round.” “That’s time,” the holoboxer said, breathing somewhat heavily – or at least, simulating it convincingly. “I gotta lotta more, man. How ‘bout you?”



“Later, pal. I have to talk to my friend here,” Murdock replied, concentrating on breathing deeply and indicating Devereux on the bench. “Computer, save program and quit.” With an acknowledging beep, the computer returned the electronic genie to its bottle. “What’s up, Doc?” he asked, addressing the counselor, who rolled his eyes at the quip.



“Actually, I think that’s my line, Sam. More to the point, who’s been pissing in your corn flakes for the past few weeks?”



“Don’t mince words, Charlie, just say what’s on your mind!” Murdock used his teeth to tear open the fastener to the padded glove on his left hand, stuck the glove under his right armpit to pull his hand part way out. He wiggled the hand and finally flicked his arm violently to throw the glove against the opposite bulkhead. Blowing out a breath in frustration, he undid the right-hand glove, more carefully with his unencumbered left, and pulled the glove off, letting it drop to the deck. He sat down heavily on the bench beside Devereux, though he avoided looking at him.



Devereux shrugged off Murdock’s ire. “I mean, you’ve been training with your partner, there, most mornings and most evenings. Why all the training? Got a shot at the title? Hey, do you know how to get to Madison Square Garden…?”



“’Practice.’ Gee, Charlie, the last time I heard that one, I was shooting a Great Auk while sitting on my pillow stuffed with passenger pigeon feathers.”



“You’ve been at this since the Maquis attack two months ago. Personally, I thought you acquitted yourself fairly well in that whole fracas. You took out, how many, four, five guys on the bridge, and another six down on the Guardian planet. Hardly what I’d call wimpy, Sam.”



Murdock shrugged diffidently while picking absently on the protective tape on his hands. “I suppose…”



“’Course,” Devereux continued casually, “there was that one Maquis, the young lady who managed to trash at least two of our security guards hand-to-hand, and then you had a little trouble with her down on the planet.” Devereux gave the captain one of his trademark piercing gazes. “This isn’t about you almost having your chronometer cleaned by a woman, is it?”



Murdock huffed rueful laughter. “Don’t flatter me, Charlie; I almost got my chronometer cleaned by a girl.” He then added in a neutral tone, “Not that we’re supposed to care about such gender-oriented distinctions—“



“—in this day and age,” Devereux chorused with him. “Uh huh. Any explanation for that, Captain?”



“Well, what do you think’s been bothering me? She was fast, Charlie; I couldn’t even see half the punches she laid on me. My face felt like a Klingon tap-danced on it. And she’s got the constitution of a dinosaur; I waylaid her with my Sunday punch, and it only took her, maybe, ten minutes to get back on her feet. Y’know how unusual that is?”



“Very,” Devereux concurred. “You think she might be a product of genetic engineering?”



Murdock shook his head. “We got some genetic fragments from her on Memory Alpha and other places…mostly, my face,” he added, wincing at the memory as Devereux chuckled. “Willow and Govarr went over it pretty thoroughly. It didn’t have the usual, um, ‘markers’, they said, that genetically altered material generally has. So, no, Faith came from Mother Nature’s –“



“’Faith?’”



“That’s her name. At least, what the other Maquis called her.” He was about to continue when he noticed Devereux’s intensive scrutiny. “What?”



“Did you know your face changed when you said her name?”



“No, it didn’t.”



“It changed, I tell you. You got this, I don’t know, an almost dreamy expression when you said her name.”



Murdock now looked distinctly uncomfortable. “You’re imagining things.”



That was when Devereux knew he was onto something. He decided on a slightly different tack. “I read Tara’s report about the incidents on the bridge and the science facility on the planet. She gave a fairly detailed description of Faith…made her sound, well, fairly attractive.”



Murdock nodded absently while mopping his sweating face with a towel. “Then I have to say Tara’s got good taste in…”



He broke off when he saw the expression of And-The-Light-Dawns on the counselor’s face.



“You’re attracted to her! So that’s it!” Devereux crowed in unabashed triumph.



“Go away!” Murdock snarled, getting to his feet and striding a meter away.



“Oh, she must be something, to get your undies in this much of a bundle! Last time I saw something this bad, DaKar went ga-ga over that visiting Bajoran physicist. I thought he was going to start wearing one of those funky earrings they all carry around!”



Murdock turned back, ready to let fly with a protest on how far offbase the counselor was, along with a comment on his illegitimate ancestry. Devereux’s expression, that all but said “Yes?” in the most solicitous tone possible, kiboshed that plan.



After a moment, Devereux decided to take pity on his friend. He got up and walked towards him slowly. “Sam, it’s not such a crime, y’know. You’re a starship captain, not a priest. You’re having erotic thoughts about a beautiful young woman. Enjoy your fantasy!”



“It’s not just that, Charlie,” Murdock muttered. “Okay, she is intriguing, and yeah, she’s gorgeous, in that I-could-spread-her-on-a-cracker kind of way. Long brown hair, eastern Mediterranean coloring, and the biggest pair of…” Murdock stopped as he realized that his hands were forming vague shapes at chest level. He dropped his arms to his sides as he continued, “…brown eyes you ever saw. But…there’s something more to this.” To Devereux’s unanswered question, he plunged on. “What if Faith…what if she’s…like me?”



Devereux stared open-mouthed for a good three seconds before answering: “What?”



Excitedly, almost teenager-giddy, Murdock turned to Devereux and words began to pour out in rapid fashion. “Her speed and strength, they may be the by-product of what made me what I am. What if she’s like me and just doesn’t realize it yet? It’s not as if I found out when I was twenty-something, it took me a long time to notice—“



“Sam; Sam! Hold your horses a second. God, you sounded like Willow there, for a second…”



“Oh, thank you, Doctor.”



“How could she be…like you? It’s not as if the circumstances of your…condition happen every day. You had the advantage of your father, to pass along his genes. And even then, you were the only one out of the five children who—“



“Yes, yes, I know, my brothers and sisters didn’t, they were all normal, at least outwardly. So were all their children…and their children’s children, and so on. So, yes, succeeding generations would have the specific genetic sequences being recombined over and over again with other DNA. But! But, there is the question: what if, say, ten, fifteen generations down the line, two people, both descendents of my siblings, from divergent branches…what if they had a child, a child where the same genetic sequences recombined?”



Devereux nodded slowly in an expression of understanding. “So,” he intoned slowly, “she’s what happened…when cousins married?”



“Yes…dammit, Charlie!” Murdock exploded when he got Devereux’s quip. He stalked over to the other side of the alcove, wiping the back of his neck with the towel. He glared at the counselor. “Y’know, as I recall, you were the one who was anxious for me to get a girlfriend!”



“I didn’t tell you to get a date with Madame X!” Devereux shot back. “Sam, even if what you’re saying is true, that she’s related to you in some odd way…this girl isn’t exactly the kind of girl you take home. She’s a Maquis! From what you said in your report, by her own admission she was raised by the Orion Syndicate. She’s practically a criminal and a terrorist!”



Murdock shrugged. “Well, it’s those little flaws that keep a guy interested.”



Devereux rolled his eyes. “I give up. You have about an hour before the thing. You going to be ready?”



Murdock smiled. “I wouldn’t miss this for…”



“…a date with Madame X?” Devereux answered cheekily. He was then obligated to evade the boxing glove thrown at his head.

_________________



"She has illusion, and you have reality. May you find your way as pleasant." -- The Cage

[Artemis]

Hee! Those two crack me up. There were a whole bunch of times in that scene when I laughed out loud, great work



Now, this is an interesting development - our Captain's got a crush on Faith Well, understandable, she's definitely the kind of girl who makes an impression. I'm actually inclined to be on Murdock's belief (if irreverant, perhaps) that she's not as bad as it seems. We know the Maquis aren't invariably opportunistic terrorists - there's people like Chakotay, Hudson, Ro, Kasidy, even Eddington after a fashion, all joined up for sincere reasons, and they're not evil. In a decentralised, semi-anarchic organisation like that, it's inevitable that they'd end up with their share of bad apples as well. As for the Orion Syndicate, we know from Equilibration that Faith doesn't have any loyalty to them - she got a look at what's behind all the 'family' stuff, and didn't like it one bit. Redemption may be possible.



Some redemption - she wouldn't be Faith if she wasn't a bit bad The notion that she might be an immortal is another interesting one - does she know? Would she be thankful for some company from another like her, or would she resent Murdock sticking his nose into her life? Well, probably the latter - I kinda get the impression that Faith and Murdock would get on like Klingons, butting heads all the time just for fun.



Another mention of 'the thing', presumably the surprise they've got planned with Willow. Looking forward to this

Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass

A Willow and Tara for every world.

Smut Bunnies!: Saving the world, sexily!

[mollyig]

I'm glad Murdock had the sense to talk to Devereux. I get the feeling he keeps things bottled up a bit too much. It's natural that he would be interested in Faith. Physically, of course, she's attractive, but her strength and background are also things that would intrigue him.

---

You stay the course, you hold the line, you keep it all together.

You're the one true thing I know I can believe in - Sarah McLachlan

[Reallybigpineapple]

Greetings, Captain.

Delighted to see an update. W/T-smut and Trek in the same story in just a win/win situation...

I love the possibility of a Captain/Faith thing beginning. Please make it so, Captain...

Live long and prosper,

Ensign Pineapple

[CaptMurdock]

Artemis

Quote:

---

Hee! Those two crack me up. There were a whole bunch of times in that scene when I laughed out loud, great work

---

What can I say...next to W/T scenes, Murdock/Devereux scenes are probably my favorite to write.

Quote:

---

Now, this is an interesting development - our Captain's got a crush on Faith Well, understandable, she's definitely the kind of girl who makes an impression.

---

Well, who doesn't have a crush on Faith? As for "impressions" I think a lot of the ones she made on Murdock were fist-sized, and mostly in the region of his face.

Quote:

---

The notion that she might be an immortal is another interesting one - does she know? Would she be thankful for some company from another like her, or would she resent Murdock sticking his nose into her life? Well, probably the latter - I kinda get the impression that Faith and Murdock would get on like Klingons, butting heads all the time just for fun.

---

Hey now! Let's not be tossing around the "I" word there, especially regarding Murdock. Just because that's the worst-kept secret in the Federation... No, I don't think she's really aware of her true nature; truthfully, I don't know how she's going to take it. Actually, that's not going to happen in this story...a tale for another time. (Though, funny you should mention Klingons and butting heads...no, that would spoil the surprise.)



mollyig:

Quote:

---

I'm glad Murdock had the sense to talk to Devereux. I get the feeling he keeps things bottled up a bit too much.

---

Too true. Murdock has a very long habit of playing his cards close to the vest. Devereux certainly has his hands full. No wonder he needed an assistant.



Reallybigpineapple:

Quote:

---

I love the possibility of a Captain/Faith thing beginning. Please make it so, Captain...

---

Like I said, probably not this story. However, I do have another pairing in the works, involving two other transplants from the Buffyverse. One of thems' already been introduced as a member of the Hannibal crew, the other -- well, that's going to be tricky.



Keep those cards and letters coming!

_________________



"She has illusion, and you have reality. May you find your way as pleasant." -- The Cage

[Magrat70]

Hi Cap't



Just got caught up. Great start. I am curious over Willow's surprise and have a good/ bad feeling about it; it's a good thing but something bad or unexpected is gong to happen.



Murdock and Faith...well the attraction was well written and I can't wait to see where you will take this.



Willow and Tara are so cute together and I love Willow in this story; very sweet.



It was great seeing this sory back the crew of the Hannibal seem like old friends that you are always pleased to see.



Keep the great work up (hey but sill no Doctor Who crossover ) and can't wait for the next installment



Wendy

Freddie is king

[CaptMurdock]

Just got caught up. Great start. I am curious over Willow's surprise and have a good/ bad feeling about it; it's a good thing but something bad or unexpected is gong to happen.

Oh, nonsense...would I do something like that?:devil

Murdock and Faith...well the attraction was well written and I can't wait to see where you will take this.

Yeah, me neither. But it probably won't be in this story.

Keep the great work up (hey but still no Doctor Who crossover

Doctor Who?!? What, are you trying to kill me?

Anyway, thanks for the feedback. I'll post more as soon as I can.

Seeya!

[CaptMurdock]

Chapter Two

Transport ship S.S. Van Gelder
En route to Adigeon Prime

The old man kneeled on the deck of his small private cabin aboard the transport, breathing so slowly that an observer might be inclined to grab the nearest medical scanner to see if he was still alive.

The ancient lungs filled with air to capacity with mathematical precision, giving oxygen, the fuel of life itself (carbon-based, that is) to the cells, drawing out carbon dioxide and exhaling. As the body’s supply of oxygen increased, the senses expanded, except for the eyes, which were closed in meditation.

He could hear the tiniest noises, the rumble of conversation from the transport’s bridge as the flight crew traded routine information and stale jokes. He could smell the tang of sweat from half a dozen different species, the sour-milk smell of the lubricant tetralubisol in the engineering section. He could feel the slightest vibrations in the deckplates beneath him, discern a slight misalignment of the gravity-net, feel the crew walking about the corridors.

Even the warp field, which surrounded the outside of the ship, allowing them to outrace light itself and twist the very fabric of space beyond the dreams of Einstein, he felt in his bones.

The Master of Onada had set himself to clear his mind, to prepare himself for the coming ordeal. He knew that going up against Kaiser Muldoon would not be easy. Muldoon would probably have henchmen, allies…possibly even enhanced physically as he was.

You get all the fun jobs, the voice of his old friend Max, long dead, came unbidden to him, even in the depths of his mind to which he had descended. The quip had hardly a chance to fade into echoes when a cascade of memories tried to crowd into the old man’s consciousness. He attempted to banish them back, unsuccessfully, then gave an inward shrug. Perhaps he needed to let his thoughts run their course…

He spent the first two weeks at his grandmother’s home in Japan sulking, furious at his parents for leaving him here while they traveled from one assignment to another across the Alpha Quadrant. The Federation’s premier computer experts, superseded only by Richard Daystrom himself, Hosato and Alejandra (he rarely thought of them as “Dad and Mom,” in any of the dozen languages that he already spoke fluently) were always in demand. After the first five years in McMurdo Sound, the three of them had spent years traveling to the various consulting jobs…Vulcan, Andoria, Tellar, the Rigel colonies, Deneva, even some colony worlds on the fringes of the Neutral Zone. It had been quite an education for a young boy in whose first love of linguistics had blossomed into a healthy appreciation for cultural anthropology.

Then, abruptly deciding he needed “some stability,” Hosato and Alejandra had dumped him on Earth. Earth was boring. He already spoke most of the languages still extant on Earth, including Spanish (from his mother) and Japanese (from his father) and, outside of a few places like San Francisco, home of Starfleet Command and the Academy, you could count the aliens you would meet on an average day on the fingers of…well, okay, two hands. Plus, his grandmother’s house – actually, it was almost a mansion – was located in a minor seaport in a country that, despite two centuries of warp drive and contact with hundreds of species, was mired in a tradition of centuries past.

His grandmother, Shikiku, was eighty-something years old if she was a day, although still remarkably active. Active, hell; the woman could crack walnuts in her hands and do handsprings like a Olympic gymnast a quarter her age. He didn’t think much of her, and she didn’t seem that interested in him, except to make sure he did his schoolwork and chores.

Only once did she speak of anything remotely conversational: “What is it you wish to be?”

He was so surprised that she was talking to him like a person that it took him several seconds to answer. “I want to be a starship pilot.”

She nodded. He wasn’t sure at the time whether this indicated disapproval or not.

He had seen other members of the household, which seemed to number over a hundred, all apparently near and distant cousins of his and Shikiku’s, scurrying about on various esoteric rounds. Some of them seemed to function as guards. Others, some near Shikiku’s age, functioned as both instructors to the younger men (and some women, though very much a minority) in hand-to-hand combat, and as majordomos who took care of much of the household business. He heard the oldest referred to in conversation as “elders,” the young-adult-to-middle-aged as “night tigers” (that took him a few days to understand, as the dialect was not modern Japanese). Several times, he heard the others refer to his grandmother as sensei: “Master.”

It was after that that he first learned of the House of Onada.

****
U.S.S. Hannibal

“Willow, stop vibrating!” Tara admonished as she brushed out her hair while staring critically in the vanity mirror.

Willow’s voice came from the common room of Tara’s quarters, where she was waiting to take her to Calavicci’s. “How would you know whether or not I’m, like, vibrating. Conjecture, pure conjecture.”

Tara smiled. “This is me you’re talking to, sweetie. If I let you have caffeine, you would vibrate so fast that you could phase through the bulkheads."

"Oh, like anybody could do that. That's just plain silly. I mean, assuming your molecules could phase through a bulkhead, you'd probably be pulled through the deck by the artificial gravity! And then, of course, you'd keep phasing, deck after deck, until by sheer momentum you'd zoom out through the keel of the ship-"

"We have a keel?"

"Well, the bottom, but I'm sure there's a technical term for it. -and there you are, floating in space trying to suck vacuum like a huge dummy."

Tara smiled as she finished brushing out her hair. "My point exactly. Caffeine should be labeled as a controlled substance, given only under prescription." She stepped away from the vanity/dresser and into the bedroom proper. She was wearing a light-green dress of diaphanous material, with a dark-green bustier that accentuated her stunning figure, and a pair of strappy sandals on her feet. Tara luxuriated in being out of uniform; as comfortable as Starfleet uniforms could be, the sense of regimentation grated on her more than she cared to admit. It feel good to wear something "girly."

Willow may have felt the same way, as she was now dressed in a lavender dress, with a slightly scooped neck that showed the cleavage that Willow denied having but Tara enthusiastically established. The boots she wore had three-centimeter heels that erased Tara's slight height advantage. Not that that was a source of great contention between them; as Tara was fond of saying, the two of them were always the same height.laying down.

Willow grinned as Tara came into the room. "Oooh, very yummy," she purred, putting her arms around her lover. "I may have to ditch my evil plans for tonight and keep you here, all to my nasty little self."

Blonde eyebrows arched, more in amusement than concern. "You have evil plans for me tonight?"

"Betcha-by-golly-wow, missy. I guess we'll just have to save getting frisky for later." Willow took her hand and led her out of her quarters. Tara wore her trademarked crooked smile, thinking, Evil's.good.

Once out in the corridor, however, Tara felt a nervous inclination to disengage her hand from Willow's. Up ahead, a couple of crewmen were walking towards them, one with a PADD in hand. By unspoken agreement, they let go of each other's hands. The crewmen nodded to them both in greeting, which they reciprocated.

Tara turned ruefully towards Willow. "I-I'm sorry. I just get, um, get..."

"I know, I know," Willow replied, trying to sound breezy about the whole thing, but Tara could pick up that she was a little more nettled than she let on. "We're officers. Have to set a good example for the troops and all that. Who knows what effect holding hands might have on discipline, y'know?" She glanced over at Tara in the midst of her mini-rant, and saw that her companion was doing a great job of examining the carpet on the deck. "Hey, c'mon. I'm not mad."

Yes, you are, Tara was within an ace of saying, but held her tongue. She looked up and smiled at Willow. "I'm sorry. Can we just go eat?"

“Absolutely.”

Strangely, the entranceway to Calavicci’s was dark. Willow frowned. “That’s strange. Could they be closed or something?”

Tara shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe…but I thought you said you had reservations…”

“I did. I mean, I do. Let’s go see.” Before Tara could admonish her not to, Willow had stepped forward towards the doors, which parted upon her approach. The science officer stepped forward into the darkened vestibule, motioning Tara to follow her. The young counselor hurried in, involuntarily jumping as the doors hissed shut behind her.

“Will, what’s going on? Should we call security?” She made to tap the combadge affixed to the front of her bodice. A hand shot out of the door to grab her wrist; it took Tara a gulp-worthy half-second to realize it was Willow.

“Hang on; let’s check this out ourselves.” Willow pulled her along for a few steps before letting go, leaving her in the dark by herself. Tara could just make out the wicked gleam in the green eyes before they disappeared into the gloom.

“W-wait,” she stammered, trying to force her eyes to adjust. Instinctively, she dropped the shields that she kept around her empathic faculties, trying to pick up Willow’s thoughts and figure out what she was playing at. Immediately, Tara not only picked up Willow’s emotional radiation, but that of several other people in close proximity. What the hell…

Suddenly, the lights came up, half-blinding her. Tara barely had time to try to shield her eyes with one hand when her ears were assaulted with a cacophonous “SUUURPPRIIIIIISSEE!!!”

Tara looked around the restaurant, seeing a grinning Willow, the senior officers and various other crewmembers cheering and applauding, the restaurant decorated with festive streamers and banners and tables loaded with brightly-wrapped boxes. Her mind simultaneously rebelled at the idea of what all these people were doing here, and attempting to remember the date on both Earth and Betazed. Wait a minute…it’s early November on Earth…and the middle of the Betazed season of Zha’sa’leen…

“Oh, God,” Tara muttered, when she finally found her voice. “Did I actually forget my own birthday?”

TBC

[Reallybigpineapple]

Greetings, Captain,
On account of it being disgustingly early in the morning and me having to haul my fanny (since I speak english of the, well english variety, it still makes me flinch ands let out a Beavis&Butthead-like chuckle whenever I see it) off to work this will be yet another totally unimaginative feedback.
Imagine my chuffedness (that so is a real word) when I realised that there was not only an update, but I had also missed the previous one, so double geeky goodness for geeky moi! Thank you for improving my sucky day.
So, no Captain and Faith, huh? Ok, I suppose I'll have to make do with W/T in nice outfits. This update made me realise that I soo need to reread Equilibration...
L, L & P

[Artemis]

Surprise! It must be difficult to surprise an empath - lucky Tara's more privacy-minded than someone like Lwaxana, or they'd never have gotten away with it.

That little incident in the corridor was very telling - that Tara's not yet comfortable holding hands in public, and that she's insecure about Willow's reaction, to the extent that she won't call her on covering it. And of course, that Willow's still, I imagine, too nervous to honestly say yes, it bothers her. It's a good reminder that this is still early days in their relationship.

Very atmospheric intro with the Master of Onada - it conveys a lot without giving away too much, so there's still the sense of mystery to the old guy.

[watty]

The Master of Onada, so mysterious, so shrouded in tradition, even in those day and age. Very much a samurai feel about him.

As for our lovebirds,

Willow, stop vibrating

what a way to capture your readers' attention! Their banter, the way they were getting ready for their date, the promise of "evil plans" later that night, so very sweet, so very old-couple-y. I don't mean they're old as in age, just that their relationship seems so stable, so solid.

But that's inside their quarters. How different is it outside, when they hit the corridors.

"Hey, c'mon. I'm not mad."

Yes, you are, Tara was within an ace of saying.

Therein lies the problem. Now, IIRC, Tara was the one attracted to Willow in the first place, right? Wasn't she the one who said,

"Sweetie ... haven't we waited long enough?"

in Equilibration.
So why still the hesitancy? C'mon Tara, people know, people probably approve, though they haven't told you in your face. The love of your life just organized a surprise party for you, isn't it about time you showed other people how you feel about that love of your life?

[CaptMurdock]

quoted from Reallybigpineapple
Thank you for improving my sucky day.

You're welcome.

So, no Captain and Faith, huh? Ok, I suppose I'll have to make do with W/T in nice outfits. This update made me realise that I soo need to reread Equilibration...

W/T will get to wear some interesting outfits on this mission, something other than the standard Starfleet uniforms.

quoted from Artemis
That little incident in the corridor was very telling - that Tara's not yet comfortable holding hands in public, and that she's insecure about Willow's reaction, to the extent that she won't call her on covering it. And of course, that Willow's still, I imagine, too nervous to honestly say yes, it bothers her. It's a good reminder that this is still early days in their relationship.

That's what I was going for, Chris. But, not to worry, they won't be "in the closet" much longer...

Very atmospheric intro with the Master of Onada - it conveys a lot without giving away too much, so there's still the sense of mystery to the old guy.

It's difficult trying to get so much backstory and not reveal the Master's "true identity." This character is an old favorite, and I want to properly "introduce" him.

quoted from watson:
So why still the hesitancy? C'mon Tara, people know, people probably approve, though they haven't told you in your face. The love of your life just organized a surprise party for you, isn't it about time you showed other people how you feel about that love of your life?

We'll get to that, probably (hopefully) in the next update.

Thanks for the feedback, kids! Keep those cards and letters coming!

[CaptMurdock]

Disclaimer: In addition to the usual, the song in this part is copyrighted to Beth Slater Whitson.

****

Tara glared at Willow in mock outrage. "You set this up?"

The redhead grinned shyly. "I had a little help," she averred, indicating the captain dressed in his usual casual black turtleneck and slacks.

Murdock muttered, "And if you think it was easy, throwing all the usual suspects out of this ptomaine trap for a birthday party--"

"Hey!" The strident voice of Celeste Calavicci, matron of the Hannibal's resident Italian eatery, cut across the room. "Watch what you call my ristorante!" Her accent thickened theatrically over the last few words.

"Sorry, Mama," the captain replied contritely. He stepped forward and clasped Tara’s hands in his own. “Willow told me that your birthday was coming up, so I asked Mama if we could have it here. I wasn’t sure if you wouldn’t have rather had a holodeck program set up—“

“N-no, sir, this is great,” Tara answered, squeezing his hands in return.

The older woman stepped forward and addressed Tara. "And don't think it was any trouble on my part, young lady. There's always time to celebrate the important things here."

"Th-thank you, Mrs. Calavicci," Tara murmured, still somewhat overwhelmed. She looked around the restaurant again, at the buffet tables practically groaning under the weight of the bowls and plates of aromatic entrees, at the group of senior officers in casual dress, at several crewmembers who had been patients of hers. She felt flushed, feeling the need to take a couple of deep breaths to keep from fainting.

"Why don't you sit down for a sec, kiddo?" There was Devereux, taking her gently by the elbow and steering her to a nearby chair. Even as she smiled and thanked him, she couldn't help but glance at the glass in his hand. He caught the look, gave her a shrug. "Hey, I'm not flying anywhere tonight. I'm allowed to indulge in a little firewater, right?"

She smiled back. "None for me, thanks. I'm unsteady enough as it is."

Willow brought her a plate. "It's buffet style tonight. Let's dig in."

"Hot damn, I heard that!" Murdock cried cheerfully. "We'll organize the queue by rank, starting at the top - YEEEOOW!" He was interrupted in his food-procurement mission by Celeste grabbing him by his ear.

"Not so fast, you. The Birthday Girl goes first!"

"This is assaulting a superior officer!"

"I'm not in Starfleet, Sammie. Tara, you go right ahead."

Tara selected fettuccine, garnishing it with broccoli and slathering it with a generous helping of alfredo sauce. A couple of soft baked breadsticks completed her raid.

The conversations whirled around her as everyone ate. Jodell DaKar and Thelvran were arguing, gently, about some aspect of their upcoming mission. Olivia Faraday was regaling Murdock, Willow and Devereux with an account of her visit with her husband and children a week ago. Between bites of food, Tara acknowledged various peoples' good wishes and congratulations.

Devereux sidled over to you. "Not feeling left out, are you?"

Tara shook her head and smiled. "I like to observe other people in social situations."

"That's usually a code phrase for 'being alone in a crowd.' Who are you trying to kid here, girlie?"

Tara huffed. "Charlie, don't headshrink me. It's my birthday."

"Okay, okay."

Nettled, Tara looked around the room again, noticing the absence of two of the senior officers. "I don't see Commander Kolrami or Dr. Govarr? Were they held up, or…"

"They're probably not going to make it, Tara" Murdock answered, wandering over with a plate of severely-diminished veal parmesan in his hand. "They did send along gifts. at least, Gelfa did, I'm pretty sure…"

Thelvran also came over. "Actually, neither the commander nor the doctor are what you would call, 'party beasts.'" The Andorian chuckled at his joke, missing the blank looks on the faces of his colleagues.

"Animals," Devereux mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"The term you're looking for is 'party animals', Thel," DaKar supplied helpfully.

"Oh." Thelvran looked crestfallen, his antennae drooping, as he always did when his malapropisms fell flat.

Tara's heart instantly went out to him. "It was still funny, though." She touched him on the shoulder, engendering a smile from the azure face.

Willow sprang up out of nowhere. "Let's open prezzies!"

Given the shortness of Tara's tenure so far on the Hannibal, a great many of the gifts tended to be of the hit-or-miss variety, in the twilight zone between whatever-possessed-you and never-knew-I-needed-one-till-I-got-one. Even so, many of those were quite lovely: a sarong from Faraday, in green-and-earth-tones; a beautiful waterscape from DaKar, actually painted by one of his previous hosts…

"What is it again?" Tara asked Thelvran, looking in the box. She turned it this way and that, but getting new angles did nothing to decipher the nature of the object.

“A B’hiva,” Thelvran replied. “And, I assure you, it is virtually unused. No dropouts, no lost meaning.”

Tara put on her most winning smile. “It’s lovely. Thank you.”

Murdock’s present was the sort of hard, rectangular shape known the galaxy over. “Couldn’t be a book, could it?” Tara asked, tongue-in-cheek, giving a quick shake. She tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a hard-bound copy of Gideon Sinclair’s The Crazy Years, probably one of the best reference works about turn-of-the-millennium Earth popular culture written in the last two centuries. “Neat! I love these kind—“ A handwritten scrawl on the title page made her eyes go wide. “Signed?!? This is an autographed copy?”

Murdock shrugged. “I guess. I’d forgotten, to tell the truth. I was using it for a beer coaster,” which had to patently untrue, given the pristine condition of the book, “and I’d thought you might like to have it.”

“Ohhhh, Captain…th-this is…” Tara choked up, her vision blurring uncontrollably.

“Aw, c’mon, Tara,” Murdock countered, embarrassed, handing her a napkin to dap her eyes. “It’s not the Hope Diamond, or…Klingon aphrodisiacs…”

Tara laughed at that, breaking her urge to cry and the awkward moment. Murdock and the others laughed as well, although Faraday rolled her eyes and Celeste half-heartedly scowled.

“Okay,” Murdock announced when he caught his breath back. “Time for cake!”

Luigi Calavicci, the maitre’d of the restaurant, wheeled out the enormous sheetcake on a mobile table. The cake was ablaze with candles. Tara caught a flash of anticipation from the middle-aged Italian, then caught a glance between him and the captain.

Her musings on what the two of them were scheming about were interrupted by Devereux. “Lots like some serious fireworks there, kid,” he said, indicating the candles on the cake. “Need some help with that?”

“I think I’m going to need a phaser,” she answered ruefully. Even the two dozen candles (appropriate for her age) seemed like a lot. She answered Willow’s encouraging smile with one of her own; then, holding her hair back to avoid any embarrassing combustions, she inhaled a deep breath and blew out…

…nothing. The candles remained as incandescent as ever. “What the hell?” She took in an even deeper breath and tried again, hoping she was not getting stray saliva all over the beautiful icing. Still, the candles remained stubbornly lit.

Willow’s puzzlement equaled Tara’s. “I don’t get it, why— Wait. All these candles, they sure aren’t generating a whole lotta heat…”

Tara then noticed that the captain’s face was turning red, and her empathic senses, usually hit-or-miss with Murdock’s mind, was registering a great deal of amusement. Carefully, she waved her hand over the cake. It passed through the candles themselves, as well as the flames, with a slight shimmer. She turned to Murdock, hands on hips, with the sternest expression she could manage. “Holographic candles?!?”

Murdock broke down and guffawed, to the exasperation of Tara, Willow Celeste and Faraday. Devereux, DaKar and the other guests tried hiding their smiles, but didn’t succeed very well. After half a minute, the captain recovered himself. “I’m sorry, Tara. Just couldn’t resist the gag. Here, let me take of it…Computer, delete candles.” With a beep, the faux candles disappeared.

Luigi piped up. “He made me do it,” indicating Murdock. “It’s not my fault.” Murdock sneered goodnaturedly.

“I think that the captain is getting revenge on everybody for his last surprise birthday party,” Devereux averred.

“But I wasn’t even here then!” Tara protested gently.

“Oh, as if you wouldn’t have been in on it,” Murdock muttered, his supposed pique mitigated by the smile he failed to conceal.

“What happened?” Willow asked, as she started cutting the cake and dishing out plates with Celeste.

“He tried to get off the ship beforehand, but we caught him,” Faraday said, take a plate with a slice of cake and a fork.

“I was not trying to escape…I was taking the Leonardo out for a quick trip—“

“To the Delta Quadrant,” DaKar stage-whispered across Murdock’s “explanation.”

“Go swallow a symbiont.”

Willow and Tara giggled at the interplay between the officers and friends. Clearing her throat, Tara, amazed at her own great daring, asked, “So, um, Captain…this last birthday…how many does that make?”

Barely had the words come out of her mouth before Tara sensed the sudden tension level increasing almost exponentially from the senior officers…though not from Murdock himself. Smirking slightly, he answered, “Seven hundred and thirty-six.”

Devereux coughed, ostensibly choking on his drink. Most of the other party guests chuckled. Tara and Willow exchanged a look, before Willow piped back, “Well, you look good, sir. Must be all those vitamins you take.”

“Naaah…good make-up man. Excuse me.” Murdock moved off as the girls tried to make sense of his last quip.

Tara finished her slice of cake and looked over to the entrance. Surprisingly, there was a late arrival…Charles Gunn, a security specialist who had recently been promoted to chief petty officer. She was rather shocked to see him here; he had never struck Tara as the social type.

Kinda like me.

Tara walked over to where Gunn was trying to blend in with the décor. “Hey, Gunn,” she greeted him, knowing that he never liked to be addressed by his first name. “I’m glad you came.”

“Well, yeah, I just—well, I wanted to, y’know, wish you a happy and all that…” He thrust a small gaily wrapped package into her hands. “I got you a little…something; if you don’t like it—“

“I’m sure it’s great. Come and have some cake and food.” Tara had to really tug on his oak-hard arm to get him to move towards the buffet and dessert tables. There he stoically endured greeting from the other party guests. Tara could sense his discomfort, but there was another feeling, this one directed solely at her…

“Can I borrow her for a few? Thanks,” Willow said, taking Tara by the arm before anyone could object towards a space cleared in the center of the restaurant, where several tables usually stood. Willow glanced back in Gunn’s direction; Tara noted that he was looking at her but trying to make it look as if he wasn’t looking at her. “You know he has a crush on you, right?”

“Yeah, I sensed that,” Tara murmured. “For a second there, I thought I was cured…’the boys like me,’” she drawled like a Southern belle of centuries past, the back of her hand to her forehead.

“Hey, am I gonna have to fight to keep you? ‘Cause, y’know, not large with the butch.”

“Don’t sweat it, sweetie…what exactly are we doing, anyway?”

“Dancing.” At Willow’s hand-cue, the resident Calavicci’s musical trio struck up accordion, violin and mandolin. Luigi stepped up as they began to play, and started singing:

I am dreaming Dear of you, day by day
Dreaming when the skies are blue, When they're gray;
When the silv'ry moonlight gleams, Still I wander on in dreams,
In a land of love, it seems, Just with you.

Tara was occupied in trying not to step on Willow’s feet (and vice versa), but she knew that everyone was looking at the two of them dancing slowly together. Then, in succession, Murdock, Devereux, Faraday and DaKar joined Luigi “on stage:”

Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.
Let me hear you whisper that you love me too.

“Well,” Tara shrugged, “so much for being in the closet.” Truthfully, she had never felt such acceptance. As the senior officers chorused along with Luigi, as Willow smiled at her, the last of Tara’s anxieties about their relationship vanished.

Keep the love-light glowing in your eyes so true.
Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.

TBC

[Artemis]

Poor Gunn... ah well, who can blame him for being smitten by Tara? He's sweet though, I hope he gets over it okay. Is there a 23rd century Fred around somewhere?

Tara really was alone in a crowd for a while there. I was initially a bit surprised that Willow wasn't with her more, but then it occurred to me that they weren't there as a couple, so to speak. A bit sad that Tara ended up on the fringe of her own birthday party - then again, if the whole senior staff of my ship showed up to my party, I'd be inclined to fade into the background in shock, too (plus, wondering when I got on a starship). Nice of them to come and make it a special occasion (Murdock's practical jokes notwithstanding), and I'm sure it'll help Tara feel more 'part of the family', once the shock wears off

But they danced, awww I can totally relate to the trying-not-to-step-on-toes thing, too. Maybe not the most romantic thing to be thinking about at the time, but hey, you find romance where you can.

[watty]

Tara seems surprised that so many people are at her party, it's like she doesn't know how well liked she is. It's a side of the senior officers that isn't seen too often, relaxed and joking, even though not all of them felt they knew Tara well enough to get her a present she likes (but it's the thought that counts, right?)

Holographic candles

Totally cracking ! I can just imagine her reaction.

Of course you left the best till last. With the dancing, and the being serenaded, and being accepted. I do hope they feel comfortable after this party about letting people know they're together.

Oh, and we haven't seen Willow's present, am I right ?

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-

I think these last two updates show first how wrapped up in her work and her new relationship Tara is, or maybe it just shows she's not a birthday person. Beyond her being accepted it also shows the strains placed on a service couple.

I loved the book prezzie and Tara's reaction, the trick candles and Tara's sternest tone of voice, and Murdock's age answer (which brings up the whole question of Faith as a May-September match stretched to end of the months).

Poor Charles. Of course now I'm sure he's going to be in Willow and Tara's sights as the happily coupled people 'help' their single friend.


Thank you for work, Captain!

Jixer

[CaptMurdock]

Artemis:

Poor Gunn... ah well, who can blame him for being smitten by Tara? He's sweet though, I hope he gets over it okay. Is there a 23rd century Fred around somewhere?

Don't worry about Gunn....and yes, there is a 24th-century Fred around someplace, and she will be making an appearance soon...although, like many things in this universe, she is not quite what she seems....

Tara really was alone in a crowd for a while there. I was initially a bit surprised that Willow wasn't with her more, but then it occurred to me that they weren't there as a couple, so to speak.

Willlow probably had some last-minute details to work out with Luigi and his musicians for the dance.

But they danced, awww I can totally relate to the trying-not-to-step-on-toes thing, too. Maybe not the most romantic thing to be thinking about at the time, but hey, you find romance where you can.

I must say that you have a point there, wihich i s whay I added that one line near the very end (that I emailed you about.) Again, no beta reader. My fault entirely.

watson:

Oh, and we haven't seen Willow's present, am I right ?

We'll address that in the next update (j\heh heh).

jixer:

I loved the book prezzie and Tara's reaction, the trick candles and Tara's sternest tone of voice, and Murdock's age answer (which brings up the whole question of Faith as a May-September match stretched to end of the months).

Welll...no relationship's perfect.

Thanks for the feedback, gang!

[CaptMurdock]

Sorry this has taken so long. Life...ohhhh, life.

****

The party continued, quite pleasantly, for some time before the captain cleared his throat ostentatiously. “People, you know how I hate to break up a wingding as good as this one…” He paused for the sighs, mostly pro forma, from the crowd of officers and crewmen. “….but tonight is a school night, and we do have a somewhat tricky mission ahead of us.” Nods of assent, reluctant nonetheless, acknowledged Murdock’s statement.

“That’s okay, sir. Thank you, everybody,” Tara said, looking around the restaurant at both the guests and her presents, which represented quite a haul. “Captain, do you think I could borrow the transporter for a little site-to-site beaming? Otherwise, I’m gonna have to make several trips…”

“I think we can detail a work party to help you stow your boodle there, Lieutenant,” the captain averred, accompanied by several chuckles around the room.

“Leave that to me, sir,” Gunn volunteered, his normally impassive face sliced with a smile.

“I’ll leave it in your capable hands, Mr. Gunn. Tara, Willow, a moment of your time before you leave.” Murdock directed the two of them over to a secluded corner of the restaurant, far enough away from the other party guests and from the waiters cleaning up the remains of the party food. “I’d like the two of you to report to my ready room tomorrow, at ten-hundred hours. There’s an assignment that I have in mind that might call for your…respective skills.”

“Relating to our mission to Adigeon Prime, sir?” Willow asked.

“Is this part of that idea that you ‘needed to sleep on’, Captain?”

Murdock. “Right on both counts. I’ll see you two manana. And do try to get—“ The captain broke off, as if reconsidering – or re-editing -- what he was going to say. “Um, good night.”

****

Gunn was good as his word; several crewmen had packed up Tara’s presents and, with the help of a handy antigrav sled, carried them to her quarters neat as one pleased. After they had arranged everything to Tara’s – and Willow’s – satisfaction, the crewmen were dismissed with Tara’s profuse thanks. Gunn remained behind an awkward moment longer, then made his own departure, with Willow’s polite but steely gaze hastening him on his way.

“Don’t be jealous,” Tara chided her.

“Jealous? Me? Who’s jealous? I’m not jealous. I’m just doing my duty as The Girlfriend to make him aware that you are, oh, how do you say, off the market. I mean, I would have to be really insecure, just because, well, he’s a man, and he’s attracted to you, well of course he is, you’re beautiful and he’s not blind and am I just digging myself a hole here?”

“With two shovels and a photon grenade, sweetie. But I still love you. I love your babble and I love the fact that you are jealous. I shouldn’t but I do.” Tara sidled over to Willow and kissed her firmly.

Willow smiled, putting her arms around the blonde and pulling her close, lengthening the kiss. For a solid minute the two of them knew nothing but each other, felt the promise of intimacy to come, the promise of a lifetime together.

Willow finally broke the kiss, much to Tara’s displeasure. “Hold that thought, baby,” she said, disengaged herself from their embrace. She headed toward the vanity/dresser that separated the bedroom from the head. “Oh, and take off your clothes.”

“’Oh, and take off your clothes.’ Nice of you to work that in somewhere,” Tara muttered back, more good-naturedly than annoyed. She undid the closures on her bodice, inhaling in relief as the mild constriction went away, as did the uplift on her breasts. You could almost park a coffee cup there, she thought. Removing the dress left her in panties, as the bodice made a brassiere redundant. “What are you doing in there?” Actually, the question was mainly rhetorical, as she could hear the water running into the bathtub. Tara picked up her dress and put it in the autovalet to be cleaned.

‘Hold on, hold on,” came the answer from the head. After a second, Willow came around the vanity. “Hey, when you asked the captain how old he was…did you think he was, y’know, serious.

Tara shrugged as she doffed her panties and stepped towards the vanity. They had discussed this subject before…

“How is it possible, Tara? Tell me. The images I saw in the Guardian, those were Captain Murdock, but centuries ago!”

“You can’t be sure of that, Will.” It had only been a couple of days since Tara had felt comfortable using that nickname, the interval in which she and Willow had deepened their relationship beyond friendship. Part of her was still in disbelief that this beautiful creature, who had arrived in this century as if by magic, had fallen in love with her, plain old, shy, awkward Tara Maclay.

“Tara, c’mon, you saw the one where he was standing right next to Francisco Cumberland, my former captain on the old Hannibal! And he was younger than when I knew him, so that had to be over a hundred years ago. And there’s our Captain Murdock, not a day older! So, please, let’s hear the Perfectly Rational Explanation that I know you don’t have!”

Tara exhaled, crossed her arms and looked down for a second. She really didn’t want to fight with Willow, not so soon after…. “You’re right, sweetie, I don’t have an explanation…other than the one you have.”

“Exactly! So, how did he get this way? I mean, did he drink some magic potion, or get kidnapped by aliens and get experimented on, or is he even human? After all, there’s lots of humanoid species that have lifespans…”

“Willow,” Tara tried to interject.

“… far longer than us. Why all the pretense then? And, if he’s been creeping around since, what, the 1700s, maybe assuming other people’s identities along the way, do we even know he’s the ‘Ulysses Murdock’ who went through Starfleet Academy, what do we really know about him?"

“Willow!”

“What?”

“Do you trust him?”

The silence that followed the question was brief. The answer that followed the silence was heartfelt, resolute. “With my life.”

Tara reached forward and took Willow’s shoulders, wonderful shoulders that she loved to rest her head on and massage and nuzzle. “Then that’s all that matters, isn’t it.” She smiled then, watching Willow mirror the expression. “He’ll tell us when he wants to tell us.”

“I don’t know,” was Tara’s reply as she padded towards the head. She noted that Willow had removed her clothes as well, though she was now wearing her robe. “I suppose, from what you’ve told me, that seven hundred and change ought to be just about—“

“Actually, not in the mood for serious scientific inquiry right now,” Willow countered, taking Tara’s hand and guiding her…

…towards a spectacle of soft light and shadow, with myriad candles providing illumination instead of the standard overhead lighting. The bathtub was three-quarters full of fragrant, bubbly water, making Tara’s nose twitch with delicious scents of citrus and chamomile.

“Oh, Willow,” Tara purred in appreciation. “This is wonderful.”

“Yeah, yeah, c’mon, get in,” the redhead said, chivvying Tara into the tub. The water was at the upper limit of comfortably warm; Tara had to proceed downwards slowly to be able to acclimate herself. She finally made it down to sit on the bottom, feeling lightheaded from the warm water and the scents therein. She almost could have gone to sleep right there.

Willow kneeled down at the side of the tub, rolling up the sleeves of her robe. Tara raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you joining me?” They had often taken baths together, the first time before they had become lovers.

“Not just yet.” Willow picked up a large bath sponge and applied creamy soap to it. She reached over to wash Tara’s back, making large circles from shoulders to waist.

Tara groaned with pleasure. She continued to do so as Willow washed virtually every accessible inch of her, shampooing her hair, rubbing her feet and legs, and just generally making Tara feel great. Although she felt more relaxed than she had in a while, sleep was now the farthest thing from her mind.

Willow had gotten quite wet, and her robe was getting more than a little clingy, something Tara was finding increasingly enticing. She reached over to undo the robe’s sash, but her hands were pushed back. “Oh, no,” Willow muttered. “Not yet.” Tara huffed, a little frustrated. “Lean back,” Willow ordered.

Slightly nettled, Tara did so. Her irritation started to recede as she realized that Willow’s hand was doing something other than bathing her, as she felt delicate fingers traverse her neck, her chin, down her throat, tracing her collarbone before dipping down and exploring the valley of flesh between the two mounds, making tiny circles in the two most sensitive spots…

“Oh, God, Will, yes…” Tara gasped as her vision started to go, her nervous system starting to overload, her hands gripping the sides of the tub, her legs seeming to stretch away forever even as her toes curled.

“Ohhhh…some interesting phenomena I’m observing here,” Willow said in her best Science Officer voice. “I think I should explore deeper.”

Yeah, I think you should too, Tara would have said, had she been capable of coherent speech. The anticipation of Willow’s hand dipping deeper into the water, rappelling off her abdomen, finally delving between her legs, was almost as enticing and frightening as the act itself. Tara’s vision cut out entirely as she cried out in pleasure. Her hands slipped off the sides of the tub; fortunately, Willow was holding her up…albeit from an unusual position.

Miniatures tsunami were generated by Tara’s increasingly frantic motions, as her body responded to Willow’s ministrations. The redhead had to shake water from her hair, drenched by a particular vigorous motion from her girlfriend as she kicked and writhed and moaned. She began to feel her own nerve endings fire up, as Tara’s empathic talent synched with her own mind. The bond they shared once again came alive.

After an infinitesimal eternity, Tara could endure no more, and exploded and clenched and cried and died. After several minutes, during which she had to replenish her blood’s oxygen levels, she wiped water, or perhaps tears, from her face, regaining her ability to focus her vision on the face near her own, the face she loved so much. Then she had to laugh.

Willow smiled though the soap suds covering her face. “Somebody got a little vigorous with splashing the water around.” She made an attempt to brush off the suds, ostentatiously so. “So…good birthday?”

“Best birthday. There’s only one thing missing.”

Willow’s eyebrows arched. “What could you possibly be missing?”

“You.” Sitting up a little, Tara reached up and pulled the sodden robe from Willow’s body, revealing the slim figure, before pulling her into the bathtub on top of herself.

Long into the ship’s night, the two of them vigorously loved one another. The tiled floor became very wet.

[Ressick]

*does a little happy dance* I just finished Equilibrium a couple of days ago, and wow, to suddenly have an update to its sequel is a total treat. You, Captain, have combined my two favorite fandoms in a wonderful way. I love how true you stay to both the Trek universe, and the emotional canon of W/T. This update was utterly delicious. I love how the Captain tried to tell them to actually get some sleep, but didn't. Hehehe... Thank you!

[CaptMurdock]

:bounce *does a little happy dance* I just finished Equilibrium a couple of days ago, and wow, to suddenly have an update to its sequel is a total treat.

I think you mean 'Equilibration'. but don't feel bad; I knew when I used that word for a title, some people might be confused. But, since it means 'the act of two celestial bodies oscillated to a common center,' I though it was appropriate.

You, Captain, have combined my two favorite fandoms in a wonderful way. I love how true you stay to both the Trek universe, and the emotional canon of W/T.

I'm gratified when anyone finds this to be not only a good W/T story, but also good Trek. Believe me, it ain't easy juggling the two, sometimes.

This update was utterly delicious. I love how the Captain tried to tell them to actually get some sleep, but didn't. Hehehe... Thank you!

You're welcome. BTW, if you are the same "Ressick" that I think you are , you wrote some of my favorite W/T fics back in the day, e.g. How's It Going To Be. Fantastic. Captured Willow's "questioning" phase perfectly.

Thanks for the feedback!