textfiles/sex/EROTICA/D/diplo.txt

DIPLOMACY
By Kit Montana

	Beverly Crusher was furious -- dangerously so.
	For a brief moment, Capt. Picard, who had known and faced more danger in 
the last year than most people faced in a lifetime, thought it was 
providential that there was a desk between the two of them. There was a 
gleam in her eye he had seen few times before, and each time he *had* 
seen it, he regretted it. He knew it was an old wives' tale that red-
heads had wicked tempers. But it was his experience that those old wives 
were quite insightful indeed.
	"I'm sorry Beverly. You know if there was any other choice I would take 
it. But they need Counselor Troi at Ceti Alpha Three right now. That 
meteor storm has put those people through a lot of trauma. The Ambassador 
asked for her by name ..."
	Beverly stared at him, her arms folded across her chest, eyes flashing. 
The muscles in her jaw were so tight Picard wondered if she were 
incapable of speech at the moment.
	"As a matter of protocol, I need a senior woman officer to go with me to 
Amanti. I know it's archaic. I know it's ... it's *silly*, but that's all 
there is to it. When I approved your leave, I thought Deanna would be 
able to go."
	Beverly stood silently before his desk for a full five seconds before 
responding.
	"I haven't taken leave in over a year, Jean-Luc," she said accusingly.
	"I know that."
	"This will be the first time I'll have a chance to see Wesley since he 
started traveling," she said.
	"I know that, too." Picard leaned back in his chair, and sighed. "I know 
it took you two months to get those reservations at the Keska Resort. I 
know you intend to lay in the sun every day for two weeks without a comm 
badge or a medical journal in sight. I know you need a vacation. But I 
need you here; now. Your vacation will have to wait."
	Beverly gave him a long look. 
	"Aye, sir. I'll review the information we have on Amanti to get up to 
speed. We arrive at seventeen hundred tomorrow?"
	Picard winced. Beverly's voice was so cold he thought he might end up 
suffering from frost-bite if they spoke much longer.
	"I'll have Mr. Data brief you; he'll be attending with us. Beverly I'm ..
 "
	But she was out the door, out of his ready room and across the bridge to 
the turbolift before anyone had a chance to even speak to her. It was 
just as well; one look at her face was enough to shut the mouth of the 
toughest Klingon.
#####
	She had just finished communicating with Wesley on subspace, telling him 
of the change of plans, when the doors to sickbay hissed open to reveal 
Lt. Cmdr. Data. He entered slowly and cautiously, as if he were fearful 
of an assault from an unknown source.
	"Doctor, may I enter?"
	Despite her anger  -- cooling now that she had spoken with her son -- 
she smiled and motioned to the chair across the desk from her. She pushed 
the computer aside. "What, Data  -- did they tell you I was on the 
warpath?"
	Data frowned slightly, then tilted his head in understanding. "Ah, an 
old idiomatic saying meaning you are angry. Yes, Doctor, the Captain said 
you were quite angry, and that I should avoid briefing you until later. 
Unfortunately, Geordi and I are testing the phasometric circuitry to the 
warp drive later and ... "
	"No, Data, it's all right. Now is fine. I'm not angry -- with you."
	Data handed her a computer chip. "You may wish to review this. It is a 
history of our negotiations with the Amanti to date. You will note that 
they have several bargaining chips for their admittance to the Federation 
despite the fact they have not developed warp drive -- which, in most 
cases, is a precursor for membership. They do, however, have an abundance 
of dilithium on their planet and have developed cost-effective and 
efficient ways of extracting dilithium from soladite. Both these 'chips' 
make their acceptance attractive to the Federation."
	"And from the Federation, they get warp drive -- and, a more viable 
market for their dilithium," said Crusher, leaning on her desk, chin 
resting in her palm.
	Data nodded. "Exactly. What Ambassador Sinato is calling a 'win-win.'"
	*Except for me*, thought Beverly. *I'm the loser in this deal.*
	"So what are we doing here?" she asked.
	Data tapped the control on the computer that sat on Beverly's desk. 
Another tap, and the smiling face of a middle-aged humanoid appeared. 
With the exception of startling silver-grey eyes and dark speckling like 
freckles in a pattern across his forehead, he might have been Terran. 
Beverly found the face interesting.
	"Humanoid?" she asked.
	Data nodded.  "Yes, but how they got here is a mystery. This is the 
Talbot Jisson. He has been the chief negotiator for Amanti for entrance 
into the Federation. He is also one of the ranking members on the Amanti 
ruling council. At this point in the negotiations, Ambassador Sinato has 
recommended that the Amanti meet some of the Starfleet officers who would 
be assisting them should they ever need defense. A "pot sweetener," I 
believe he called it. It seems the Amanti worry that they might be 
subject to raiders should it become widely known they have rich dilithium 
deposits. Also, the Talbot is interested in meeting more species of the 
Federation. He hasn't met any Terrans yet, or Klingons -- only Betazoids 
and Vulcans."
	Beverly smiled to herself. Picard, Data, Worf and herself  -- quite a 
diplomatic delegation. 
	"Their social development?" Beverly asked, flipping the computer screen 
to additional information the Amanti.
	"Socially well-developed. However, there is one unique aspect the 
Ambassador mentioned. While almost all humanoids have an average male-to-
female propagation rate of one-to-one, Amanti women are outnumbered by 
men by a factor of more than two. That may be why they are so interested 
in meeting female humans."
	*Well, at least I'll be appreciated*, thought Beverly.
	"Do we have a schedule of activities yet?" she asked.
	Data touched the computer control again. "It starts with a welcoming 
dinner and concert at the Talbot's residence the day after tomorrow. 
There's a breakfast the next morning, followed by a tour of a dilithium 
mining center and ... "
	'Thank you, Data," said Beverly, interrupting him.  It sounded like 
dozens of other diplomatic missions. "Let me study this and then if I 
have any questions, I'll call you. I know you have to meet Geordi. I 
don't want to keep you."
	Data stood up. "I believe that is a good plan. There is one thing you 
should be aware of that I haven't entered in the schedule. The Talbot has 
offered his residence to us during our visit. Captain Picard has accepted.
 We will be staying on the planet surface for the entire two days of our 
stay."
	"Thank you, Data. I'll pack accordingly."
#####
	The Captain was checking his chronometer when Beverly entered the 
transporter room, carrying a bag in each hand. She noticed the others 
where similarly weighed down, especially Worf, who was to wear his 
ceremonial Klingon garb at tonight's formal dinner and concert. Beverly, 
as the suggestion of Ambassador Sinato, was wearing civilian attire to 
the evening's events to allow the Amanti to see what non-Starfleet women 
might wear.
	She wasn't late, but Picard seemed impatient at her arrival, as if 
anxious to get started. She hadn't spoken to him since their discussion 
in his ready room the day before.
	Riker stood by the transporter console to see them off. Beverly stood on 
the pad on one of the rear coils with Worf and the Captain in front. 
	Perhaps I can get through this entire visit without speaking to him once,
 she thought.
	She knew she was behaving childishly, but it was satisfying to let him 
know she was still angry with him over making her come on what was 
essentially a social call. She also knew that by tomorrow her anger will 
have passed and probably she would begin to enjoy herself and enjoy being 
with Jean-Luc off the *Enterprise*. But until then, she enjoyed causing 
him discomfort.
	She felt the familiar tingle of the transporters, and heard Riker's 
flippant, "don't forget to write!" and then she was standing in a garden 
suffused with flowers of color and variety she had never seen before.
	Talbot Jisson was walking toward them, his hand outstretched in the 
familiar greeting of Terrans meeting each other for the first time. 
Obviously, he had studied the ways of Terrans before their arrival. Next 
to him was Ambassador Sinato, the esteemed Vulcan Ambassador for the 
Federation, followed by several Amanti and members of the Federation 
Diplomatic Corps. Beverly was surprised to note that with the exception 
of an elderly Betazoid, they were all male. Before she even had a chance 
to speak, an Amanti came forward and took the bags from Beverly's hands 
without a comment, hurrying off with them to points unknown.
	"Captain! Welcome to Amanti! And this is your staff? May I meet them?" 
said the Talbot, in the hearty manner of leaders meeting others of power 
for the first time.
	Picard shook the Talbot's hand. "It is my pleasure to be here, Talbot 
Jisson. We look forward to becoming friends. Let me present some of my 
senior staff. Lt. Worf, my tactical and security officer; Lt. Cmdr. Data, 
my science officer; and my chief medical officer, Cmdr. Beverly Crusher.
	The Talbot shook hands with each in turn, but lingered slightly over 
Beverly's. He smiled charmingly. "You must forgive me, Cmdr. Crusher. You 
are the first Terran woman I've seen. I must ask -- are all as beautiful 
as you?"
	Beverly smiled back. It was a blatant and flirting, almost disgustingly 
so. She loved it.
	Ambassador Sinato came forward, taking the Captain's arm.
	"I am so pleased you could come, Captain Picard. It is so good to see 
you again. I believe your rooms are ready for you. Talbot, perhaps they 
would like to freshen up before tonight's dinner and concert?"
	The entourage made its way slowly to the white domed dwelling that 
protruded from the side of the hills surrounding the wide garden. The 
Talbot fell in step with Beverly, providing running commentary as they 
walked.
	"You see how we like to build into the side of hills. The Ambassador 
tells me you build your homes out in the open. Why do you do that?" he 
asked.
	Beverly laughed. "I have no idea. Tradition, I suppose."
	"And do you have gardens like this?"
	Beverly looked around. "Some. Few as beautiful as this one."
	The doors to the residence were open, with two supernumeraries standing 
on either side, awaiting the entourage.
	The Talbot turned from Beverly's side to the Captain and the others. 
"Your bags have been taken to your rooms. Rinto and Gundran will show you 
to them. May I suggest we meet on the terrace for a drink before we go 
down to the dinner and concert? I wish for you to see our sunset -- 
Ambassador Sinato assures me no sunset on any Federation planet compares 
with it. Is it true Vulcans do not lie, Captain?" said the Talbot, 
laughter in his voice.
	Picard smiled, beginning to like this man who had the ability to charm 
and laugh at himself. "It is true. So I would not care to miss it."
	"In an hour, then. Should you need anything, ask Rinto or Gundran. If 
you'll excuse me ... "
	The Talbot slipped from the room, leaving the *Enterprise* members to 
find their rooms and speak with the corps members. Rinto came up to 
Beverly and bowed slightly.
	"Commander, if you will come with me, I'll take you to your room. Do you 
need assistance with unpacking?" Beverly shook her head and followed the 
servant down a long corridor deep into the hill. Recessed light where the 
wall met the ceiling provided discreet illumination.
	"The Talbot wanted you to sleep undisturbed, so he directed you be given 
the end room. It is the largest. The best."
	Rinto pushed open the heavy door. The lights came up immediately, 
showing her a comfortable suite of rooms, reminding her slightly of an 
adobe home she had once visited. The walls were pale peach, almost white, 
with blue, green and cream tapestries. The bed, against the far wall, was 
large enough for four people, and was covered with a thick, soft 
comforters and numerous pillows in the same blue, green and cream. To her 
left was a seating arrangement with several deep, comfortable-looking 
chairs before a rounded fireplace. Rinto took a small tool from the low 
table near one of the chairs and placed it in the fireplace. A small fire 
flared up.
	"It gets cool here when the sun goes down," the servant explained. "Now, 
can I be of further assistance? Does your clothing for tonight need 
attention? Shall I draw a bath?"
	Beverly smiled at him and shook her head. "You've been very kind. Thank 
you. I have everything I need -- oh, except how do I get to the terrace?
"
	Rinto gave her directions and then left her to explore her room and 
unpack.
	She pulled her dress from the confines of her case and shook it. It 
cascaded down in rippling blue and green, almost the same colors as the 
pillows on the bed. She'd worn it only once before, more than a year ago 
when she was on leave on Risa. It was strapless with a bodice embroidered 
with tiny light-catching blue, green and clear crystals. It hugged her 
body to below the waist before drifting into green chiffon-like material 
that reached below her knees. With it she was going to wear the diamond 
earrings Jack had given her just before his last deployment.
	Despite the anger and resentment she felt at being shanghaied into this 
mission, Beverly found she was beginning to enjoy herself. The 
surroundings were beautiful and relaxing. The Amanti were friendly and 
charming, and would make a wonderful addition to the Federation. And 
she'd also get a chance to dress up -- something she rarely had a chance 
to do.
	Further exploration revealed the bathroom, a huge white room filled with 
a  raised tub with adjustable nozzles that emitted a fine warm mist, 
steam, and hot and cold water. Another low structure, almost like the 
baptism font in the ancient churches her grandmother had insisted on 
taking her to when she was a child, was filled with scented water and 
flower petals. What its use was she had no idea. A device on the wall 
blew warm, scented air when you placed a hand under the opening. Huge 
white towels were draped from racks on one wall.
	Even though she had showered only a few hours before, Beverly couldn't 
resist trying out the bathtub. It's an important cultural experience, she 
told herself, lathering her body with the sweet gel she found in a deep 
dish at the side of the tub.
#####
	The others were waiting for her on the terrace by the time she got there.
 Night had fallen, but the area had been lighted by thousands of tiny 
spark-like lights strung through the trees and along the low stone walls 
that edged the terrace. Other lights were hidden among the foliage. 
Beverly found it romantic; she wondered if the Amanti had planned it that 
way.
	"Ah, Commander Crusher! There you are!" called the Talbot from among a 
knot of Federation people and Amanti. He came to her side immediately, 
ignoring the others. "I know our people have many differences, but I know 
one thing we can mutually appreciate -- you look beautiful! Is this 
common evening attire on Earth?" Sinot glided up noiselessly to hand her 
a tall twisted glass.
	The Talbot didn't wait for her to reply. "I hope you'll enjoy this; it's 
distilled from the jocard flower," he said. He leaned toward her. "But 
you must be careful; it is quite potent," he said in a conspiratorial 
whisper.
	Beverly took a sip. It was wonderful, filling her mouth with bubbles and 
fruit. She smiled brilliantly at the Talbot. "It's incredible ... but 
please, call me Beverly."
	The Talbot bowed slightly. "Beverly, then. I wish I could ask you to 
call me by my child-name, but it is traditional on Amanti that once one 
becomes Talbot, Talbot is what one must be called. Even my mother calls 
me that!" He laughed, slightly embarrassed.
	Beverly took another sip of her drink. Across the terrace, Jean-Luc, 
dressed in his dreaded formal uniform, was watching her. His face was 
unexpressive. She couldn't read his thoughts. Next to him was Data, deep 
in conversation with Ambassador Sinato. Worf was nowhere in sight.
	They went in to dinner as a group, joining more Amanti and their 
Federation Diplomatic Corps counterparts.
	Beverly found she was seated at the same table as the Talbot. She 
wondered what Amanti protocol allowed a lowly Starfleet commander to sit 
at the same table as a world's leader. To her right was Ambassador Sinato;
 to her left, a small Amanti woman with dark silver eyes and a 
surprisingly deep voice. She was Terera Jisson, the Talbot's elder sister,
 in charge of agricultural affairs on Amanti. Even before the sweet first 
course was served, she drew Beverly into a discussion of indigenous 
plants and their uses. By the third course, they were chatting as if they 
had known each other for years, laughing over the folly of their sons' 
adolescence and comparing plant potting methods. Beverly promised to try 
to visit one of the nearby jocard gardens with the Amanti woman before 
leaving.
	During the last course, Beverly felt a hand on her shoulder and turned 
to find the Talbot standing between her and his sister.
	"I will only accept yes -- you two must sit next to me during the 
concert," said the Talbot.
	Beverly smiled up at him. "My pleasure, Talbot." His sister gave him a 
slight smile and bowed her head.
	Beverly finished her jocard while the guests waited for the Talbot to 
stand and lead them into the adjoining hall. She perused the room, 
looking for the other members of the Enterprise. On the other side of the 
room, she could see Jean-Luc listening to a tall Amanti who was gesturing 
violently with his hands. She tried to catch his eye to smile at him, 
indicating that all was forgiven, but he was too intent in conversation.
	Finally, the Talbot lead the way into the concert hall. Instead of 
chairs lined up, side by side, the huge room was filled with multi-
colored sofas and deep comfortable chairs. At the front were six Amanti 
musicians with exotic-looking instruments.
	To Beverly's unattuned ear, it was cacophony. A surreptitious glance as 
Jean-Luc revealed he was enjoying it -- or at least, had the diplomacy to 
look as if he did.
	It was a relief when the musicians stood and began shuffling their feet, 
indicating the concert was over. The guests began drifting out, thanking 
the Talbot for a wonderful evening and telling Beverly how glad they were 
that Amanti would be joining the Federation of Planets.
	A few diehards were in small groups talking. The Talbot glanced around 
quickly, then leaned down to Beverly.
	"A walk in the garden? I find it a pleasant distraction before I retire.
"
	Beverly stood wearily. "On Earth, we have a saying -- 'the spirit is 
willing but the body isn't.' I'm afraid my body must decline. It was a 
long day."
	The Talbot smiled. "We have a saying here, too -- 'sleep gleans the 
day's bounty.' I, too, am tired and look forward to my bed. But at least 
let me walk you to your room."
	They walked the length of the huge room together, the Talbot's arm in 
Beverly's. Out of the corner of her eye, Beverly could see Jean-Luc watch 
her every step.
##### 
	She was so exhausted that she was tempted to fall across the bed fully 
clothed, but years of discipline in Starfleet prevented it. She draped 
her dress over a chair and slipped her night gown over her head, pulling 
pins from her hair as she did so. Her nighttime ablutions were as swift 
as any she had ever performed. She crawled into bed, tossing pillows on 
the floor as she pulled back the downy cover and called for lights out. 
Sleep came before her third breath.
#####


DIPLOMACY (Part III)
By Kit Montana

His body was warm against hers, even through the fabric of her gown. He 
curled his body to conform with hers so they fit against each other like 
spoons. 
	With slow, light strokes, he caressed her body, running his hands over 
her breasts, her belly, down her thighs before returning to gently 
massage her breasts again, toying with each nipple. She sighed, turning 
toward him.
	*Jack ... *
	He kissed her eyelids, her temples, before claiming her mouth, sucking 
her lower lip slightly before sliding his tongue over her teeth and 
deeper.
	He pulled her night gown over her head. Beverly tried to help him, but 
her limbs were too heavy. His hands began their gentle caresses again, 
stroking her arms, her breasts, her belly, and the soft skin between her 
thighs. He buried his fingers in her pubic hair, gently rubbing it as if 
examining its texture.
	*Jack.*
	In her mind's eye she could see him, firmly muscled, long of limb, his 
desire for her evident. His eyes were looking deeply into hers, laughing, 
yet also communicating his love for her; a love he promised would be 
everlasting.
	His mouth found her breast and he began suckling, teasing her nipple 
with his tongue and teeth until it was distended and hard. With his hand 
he played with the nipple of her other breast, squeezing and pulling, 
rolling it between his fingers. He kissed the nape of her neck before 
working his way up to her ear, tonguing it until chills ran down her back.

	*Jack, yes ... *
	He went back to touching and stroking her body, his large hands warm, 
urgent. 
	She shivered with delight. It had been so long ... she couldn't remember 
when she had been so aroused, so eager for him.
	*Please, please ...* 
	She heard his low chuckle, and then felt him shift his body. He stroked 
and massaged her inner thighs, then gently dipped his fingers into the 
folds of her lips. She was wet, and his fingers slipped into her easily. 
She tried to lift her hips to meet him, but it was impossible.
	He dipped his head between her legs, slipping his tongue into her. He 
sucked at the opening, drinking her juices before dipping fingers into 
her again, before sliding his thumb to her clitoris. He rubbed around it 
rhythmically.
	Beverly's breathing became ragged. It was incredible, unbelievable. 
Every nerve in her body was afire with desire. She wanted to cling to him,
 give him some of the pleasure he was giving her, but her body was too 
heavy. 
	He spread her legs farther apart to get better access to her. Lowering 
his head, he took her between his lips, teasing the engorged head with 
his tongue and then sucking slightly. She moaned.
	*Ohmygod Jack ... *
	He held her by the hips, licking and sucking her until she came, 
trembling and crying out, the waves of pleasure coursing through her 
until, finally, exhausted, she lay still. She heard him laugh lightly, 
and she slept ... 
	She woke with a start.
	He was less gentle now as his own urgency filled him. With a suddenness 
that made her gasp, he thrust himself inside her.
	It was incredible, satisfying a need she had long denied. But even as 
she could feel herself edging towards orgasm, something nudged at the 
edge of her mind ... 
	Her breath became ragged again and she wanted to urge him to ride her 
faster, harder. 
	*Jack? ... *
	His fingers began digging into the flesh of her hips and buttocks as his 
own excitement began to built. He thrusting became more urgent.
	*Jack's dead.*
	The realization hit her as hard as if she had been struck. Jack was dead.

	"No!"
	Even to her own ears, her voice was barely audible.
	"Stop! I don't want this!"
	Her voice was louder this time, but hardly powerful enough to get 
attention. She tried to pull away, to twist from his grasp but he pounded 
into her, hard and fast now, unaware of her struggle.
	He thrust into her deeply one more time and cried out, his hand 
convulsing on her hips, twisting the skin. He was breathing hard, almost 
panting. After several seconds, he pulled himself from her, and collapsed 
on the bed.
	With every bit of strength she could muster, she tried to drag herself 
off the bed and away from him. She got to the edge before he realized she 
had moved. He leaped from the bed but returned immediately. Beverly heard 
the soft hiss of a injection ... 

#####
	It took her a few moments to realize the pounding wasn't in her head. 
Someone was banging on her door and calling her name.
	She dragged herself from the bed, wrapping a robe around her nakedness 
as she went. She felt dreadful, aching at every joint, her head filled 
with its own pounding. Her stomach roiled so violently that she had to 
stop briefly, hand to mouth.
	Jean-Luc Picard stood at the door. He looked at her tousled condition 
and a look of reproach filled his face.
	"You have less than ten minutes until we meet the Ambassador and the 
Talbot for breakfast," said , his voice carefully neutral.
	Beverly turned from him, and collapsed in one of the overstuffed chairs 
that stood before the fireplace.
	"Jean-Luc. I ... I'm sorry, I don't feel well."
	Beverly closed her eyes, hoping that would stop the room from tilting.
	"Oh." The Captain was silent for a few seconds. "Is there something I 
can do? Shall I call sickbay?"
	Beverly opened her eyes and looked at him. He thinks I drank too much 
last night -- or worse, thought Beverly. The trouble was, she couldn't 
remember if she had or not. Her stomach turned again.
	"No. No. I think maybe Amanti food doesn't agree with me ... I'll be all 
right. Just allow the physician a little time to heal herself, will you?" 
she said.
	The Captain, ever restrained, looked at the deep shadows under her eyes 
and mussed hair, and nodded briefly. "I'll extend your regrets. I'll 
check with you before lunch then?"
	She put her hand to her mouth. Lunch. Food. She wished he'd leave; she 
wasn't sure if she was going to win this battle ... 
	"That'll be fine," she said, weakly.
	He left, and Beverly raced to the bathroom, just in time.
	She ran cold water in the sink, soaking a corner of one of the towels in 
it and wiping her face. What was wrong with her? Was it the food? Had she 
drunk too much? Was it some bug she was susceptible to that the scanners 
had missed?
	She peered into the mirror. She looked like hell. Her eyes peered back 
at her from dark sockets, and her skin had a greyish tint she's never 
experienced before.
	She also felt unsettled, nervous, on edge. She wanted to be back in her 
own quarters on the Enterprise, with her own furnishings and plants, with 
her pictures of friends and Wesley and Jack.
	*Jack ... *
	She shook her head and began running the tub full of steaming water. She 
walked back into the bedroom, shedding her robe as she went. She stood 
naked as she rummaged through her medical bag, pulling out her tricorder 
and injector filled with pain-killing and nausea-soothing medications. 
Quickly, she scanned herself to compute what was wrong ... 
	The tricorder hit the thickly carpeted floor with a thud.
	Oh no.
	She ran back to the bathroom and began scrubbing her body with a huge 
handful of the sweet-smelling gel next to the tub. She dipped her finger 
in it and began rubbing her teeth, the soap bitter on her tongue.
	Some small voice in the back of her mind stopped her. 
	She would need evidence.
	With shaking hands, she rubbed off the soft suds and wrapped the towel 
around her. Still slightly sticky with its residue, she slipped into her 
uniform and brushed her hair to provide some decorum. With hands still 
shaking, she tapped her comm badge.
	"Crusher to Bridge."
	The steady, assuring voice of Will Riker answered.
	"Riker here. How was the party last night, Doctor?"
	She wondered what Picard had told him.
	"Will, beam me up please. Straight to sickbay."
	To his credit, the first officer didn't ask questions. It was only a few 
moments before she felt the transporter take her and deposit her into her 
own domain.
#####
	Captain Picard stood at the door, waiting for Beverly to open it. He 
shifted from one foot to the other with impatience.
	Was this some way to get back at him for making her come here? he 
thought. He didn't like to think so. Surely Beverly was bigger than that .
.. 
	"She is not there, sir."
	He jumped slightly. Sinot stood behind him, concern on his face.
	"Commander Crusher is not there, sir," the servant repeated. "She was 
gone when I came to straighten the room this morning."
	Picard scowled, then tapped his comm badge. "Picard to Crusher."
	There was a pause, then, "Crusher here."
	Her voice sounded normal, healthy, if a bit subdued.
	"Beverly, where are you? I'm here at your rooms ... "
	"I'm in sickbay."
	Was she so ill? "Are you all right?" he asked, concern in his voice.
	To his surprise, Riker answered. "Captain, I think you should beam back 
aboard the Enterprise. There's a problem ... "
	He rematerialized in sickbay, empty except for Riker and Beverly. 
Riker's face was creased with worry; Beverly's so pale that for the first 
time he noticed a faint sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
 It gave her an air of vulnerability.
	Will placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll see you later," he said, and 
left Picard and the doctor alone.
	Picard stood before the console where Beverly sat.
	"What's wrong?" he asked.
	She turned around, not looking into his face. She's had no trouble 
telling Riker what had happened. Why was it so hard telling her 
Commanding Officer? She turned back to face him.
	"Jean-Luc, I've been sexually assaulted."
	He sat, more stunned than Beverly had ever seen him.
	"Are you all right? Are you injured?"
	Beverly shook her head. "No, no."
	They simply looked at each other, uncertain what to say; then, he began 
to ask questions.
	"When? After I left this morning? You didn't say anything when I stopped 
by to take you to breakfast."
	Beverly shook her head. "No. Last night."
	Picard looked at her quizzically.
	Beverly turned the desktop computer screen toward him. "I was drugged 
with tranpozine. This is the result of a blood test I did on myself. The 
residue was still pretty high this morning. Tranpozine can either be 
ingested or injected and has a sedative effect for up to eight hours. I 
think somebody slipped me a mickey and then upped the dosage with an 
injection later. It would have put me out for most of the night, and 
would account for my headache and nausea this morning."
	Beverly realized she was babbling and stopped. Silence filled the room.
	The Captain leaned forward and spoke softly. "Can you tell me what 
happened? Can you tell me who did this?"
	Beverly stood and began a pace, a habit she had picked up from the 
Captain.  After two lengths of the room, she sat again.
	"I went to bed right after the concert, right after the Talbot walked me 
to my room. I was dead on my feet -- the tranpozine taking effect, I 
suspect. It was probably slipped into my drink. I fell asleep immediately,
 then the next thing I knew he was in my bed ... I couldn't ... " her 
voice trailed off. "I was drugged. It was almost as if it wasn't real, as 
if it were a dream, except I took these readings this morning. It 
happened. It was real."
	She pointed to the computer screen. "Here. Sperm. From an Amanti."
	Picard's stomach dropped.
	"Beverly ... "
	The doctor waved her hand. "I'll be all right, Jean-Luc."
	Again they sat in silence, a barrier between them. Finally, Beverly 
spoke.
	"I didn't see him ... I was pretty much under the influence and it was 
pitch dark. I don't think I can help you much without DNA samples for 
comparison."
	Jean-Luc stood and put his hands on Beverly's shoulders. "I am so sorry. 
If I thought that I was going to put you into any danger by ordering you 
to go with me ... "
	The guilt made his voice thick.
	Beverly leaned back, so that his hands slipped off her shoulders.
	"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to find out who did this to me.
"
	The vehement way she spoke surprised him.

#####
	Ambassador Sinato sat across the table from Picard, unmoved and unmoving.

	"This is most regrettable, Captain. Will Dr. Crusher be all right?"
	Picard nodded. "She appears to be physically unharmed, but of course she 
wants to find the individual who assaulted her."
	Sinato bowed his head slightly. "This puts our negotiations in an 
untenable position. To accuse an Amanti of assaulting one of the 
Federation's party just as we are enter into the specifics of their 
joining the Federation ... ," he shook his head.
	Picard's jaw tightened. "This isn't an *accusation*, Ambassador; this is 
a fact. One of my senior officers -- and one of Starfleet's most 
respected physicians, I might add -- was drugged and raped by an Amanti 
as she slept. I am hardly worried about how the negotiations will go as a 
result of an investigation to find out who did this."
	The Ambassador gave Picard a cold look. "Perhaps you should, Captain. 
There is more going on here than you know, I suspect."
	The Ambassador opened his portable computer and turned the screen toward 
the Captain. "I want you to see this for yourself. This -- ," he pointed 
to a slowly moving trail of green, edging upward only slightly, " -- 
shows our rate of discovery of useable dilithium crystals. It may well be 
the most sought-after -- and expensive -- material in the universe. With 
the newly-developed non-subspace disruptive engines we've developed, the 
need is even greater. Those engines require nearly twice the amount of 
dilithium as the old engines."
	"You're not telling me anything I don't know," said Picard impatiently.
	The Ambassador pointed to another line on the screen, this one red and 
steeply slanting upward. "This is our demand for dilithium. In five years 
-- *five years* -- we'll deplete our current stockpile and will have to 
rely on new sources."
	The Ambassador snapped the computer closed.
	"In short, Captain, we need the Amanti more than they need us. We must 
do everything we can to ensure these negotiations are successful. And 
accusing an Amanti of assaulting a senior Starfleet officer -- a officer 
of the Federation -- will most definitely not move these negotiations 
forward."

#####
	Deanna Troi stepped off the transporter platform. Weariness weighed her 
shoulders down and there were shadows under her eyes. She had been on the 
move for almost 24 hours, transferring from one vessel to another, ever 
since she had received a subspace message from the Captain asking her to 
return to the *Enterprise* at best speed. He had been evasive as to the 
reason why, only saying she was needed to assist in an investigation. She 
only hoped she could get a few hours' sleep before beginning.
	Will Riker fell into step with her as she walked down the passageway 
toward her quarters.
	"Welcome back," he said. "We missed you. Everything under control at 
Ceti Alpha Three?"
	Deanna gave him a weary smile. "The worst is over for them. Now they 
just need to let some time pass. So what's all this mystery?"
	Will's welcoming smile faded. "I'll let the Captain tell you. He wants 
to see you as soon as possible."
	Deanna sighed. "So much for a nap. He's on the bridge?"
	"He's on the bridge."
	They walked in companionable silence down the passageway and into the 
lift. When she stepped off the turbolift, the Captain stood and gave her 
a smile. "Welcome, Deanna. I'm glad you're back. Will, you have the conn. 
A word with you, Counselor ... "
	The two stepped into the ready room. Uninvited, Deanna sat on the sofa 
while the Captain went to the replicator to get tea. She knew it was a 
ploy to allow himself time to get his thoughts together.
	"Tea?" he asked. 
	Deanna shook her head. She could feel his apprehension, but the reason 
why was a mystery.
	He sat next to her on the sofa, taking a sip before beginning.
	"Counselor, we've had an unfortunate incident while you were gone," he 
started, then stopped.
	What was he saying? *Unfortunate incident*. One of the people he cared 
about most in the world had be drugged and raped, and now it had been 
suggested that an investigation into it not be pursued.
	He put down his tea. "Deanna, while down on the planet surface, Beverly 
was drugged then sexually assaulted."
	Deanna caught her breath. Of all the things that might have happened, 
she didn't expect this.
	"Is she all right?"
	Picard nodded, and picked up his tea, thankful that he'd said the worst 
of it.
	"I think so. She's been uncommunicative ... "
	"That's common."
	"And very angry. She's rabid to find who did this to her. She didn't see 
her attacker."
	"That's common, too. And finding who did it will be extremely 
therapeutic. Have you been able to do a DNA comparison to find out who it 
was?" Deanna asked.
	Picard shook his head. "Not yet."
	"Did she tell you what happened?"
	"Not in detail. Only that she was drugged with something called 
tranpozine and -- "
	Deanna leaned forward, "Excuse me, Captain, did you say tranpozine?"
	Picard looked at her quizzically. "Yes. It's some kind of sedative."
	"Is that what Beverly told you?"
	Picard nodded. "Isn't it?"
	Deanna smiled slightly. "Well, yes, but it has other uses as well. I've 
used it therapeutically with patients -- not here on the *Enterprise*, at 
the hospital I worked at before I came here. But some people use it 
recreationally.  The Ferengi, especially, use it quite a bit. I heard of 
a few cases on Betazed. I understand Zalkonians use it, too."
	"Counselor --."
	"It acts as a sedative, but its primarily uses is as a catalyst to 
enhance the actions of the body's chemistry on the part of the brain that 
controls sensory pleasure. So if you're relaxing in a hot bath, a little 
tranpozine would make it even more relaxing; your favorite food would 
taste even better; and so on. In larger doses, it can act has a sedative 
as well as a sensory enhancer."
	Picard just looked at her. "Counselor, what are you saying? That Beverly 
might have used this drug recreationally?" The thought appalled him.
	Deanna shook her head violently. "Absolutely not, Captain. But who ever 
slipped the drug to her was exceptionally cunning and calculating. Not 
only did this drug incapacitate her, it might have ensured a certain 
amount of cooperation. She'd be in a pleasurable, dreamlike state. She 
probably wouldn't realize what had happened to her until the drug worn 
off."
	Picard stood and began to pace.
	"And if Beverly -- or any victim -- made an accusation ... "
	"Exactly, Captain. Tranpozine is a controlled substance. It would muddy 
the waters if the accused said it was concentual sex and the victim was 
merely pointing a finger to cover up his or her use of tranpozine."
	Picard stopped pacing. "But no one would believe that Beverly would use 
illegal drugs."
	"Of course not," agreed Deanna. "Anyone who knows her would know that."
	"But it would still go in her record that she was accused of using it. 
And be read by people who *didn't* know her. It might come down to her 
word against his."
	"Yes."
	Picard rubbed his hand over his head. "She knows this."
	"Of course. I'm sure she would have reasoned it out and knows the 
consequences. That she still wants to pursue it, that she still wants to 
find out who did it to her  -- Beverly is very tenacious."
	"She deserves better than this."
	"Yes."

#####
	Beverly was sitting at her desk, reading months' old medical journals 
when Deanna walked in.
	"Deanna! I wasn't expecting you for a few days yet," said Beverly. "What 
brings you back early?"
	Deanna deliberately pulled up a chair to sit next to her friend. "You. 
The Captain sent me a subspace message."
	Beverly gave her a small lop-sided grin. "Oh. Well, as you can see, I'm 
in one piece. The rumors of my demise were greatly exaggerated."
	"Stop it, Beverly," Deanna said sharply.
	

DIPLOMACY (Part III)
By Kit Montana

They said in silence, until finally Beverly spoke.
	"Deanna, I was raped. I was drugged and raped. I have never been so 
furious in my life. I'm also scared and feeling vulnerable. This is a 
peaceful little planet of friendly, charming people. Am I ever going feel 
safe again? Even here on the *Enterprise*? And no one seems to be trying 
to find out who did this to me."
	Deanna took her friend's hand. It was cold, trembling. She felt all the 
emotions her friends spoke of, and one more -- a pervasive, profound 
sadness.
	"I won't say I know exactly how you feel, but I think I understand a 
little. Why don't you tell me what happen? It may help."
	Beverly pulled her hand away and walked over to the replicator to get a 
cup of coffee.
	"I know you're trying to be helpful, Deanna, but I'm not ready to talk 
about it. If you'd really like to be of help, you'll use those empathic 
skills of yours to find out who did this to me."

#####
	The Captain paced back and forth in his ready room.
	Five paces. Turn. Five paces. Turn.
	He was unsettled, undecided what to do.
	She deserves better than this.
	The sentenced repeated itself to him, one word with each step.
	And instead of finding out who did it, he was in his ready room, pacing.

	He cursed his indecision.  
	The Ambassador's words weighed on him. Picard had known there was a 
dilithium shortage, but he had no idea how severe it was. Inadequate 
supplies would force the exploration of space -- the primary mission of 
the Federation -- to a stand still.  Inter-planetary trade would be 
inhibited, perhaps even crushed, causing planetary shortages of even the 
most basic items. It could mean economic disaster for the Federation, 
rendering them more vulnerable to predatory civilizations. That 
Ambassador Sinato would even suggest an investigation not be pursued was 
indicative of the severity of the dilemma.
	He sighed. What if he *did* press this, what if he insisted on a 
complete investigation, and negotiations broke down because of it?
	Starfleet would not be happy with its flagship's captain, especially if 
he went against the advice of one of the Federation's most esteemed 
ambassadors.
	And was pursuing this in Beverly's best interest? He had no idea what 
Amanti justice was like, but surely there must be some kind of public 
judgement where the accused could confront his or her accuser. If Beverly 
lost -- would a Amanti justice system find against one of their own? -- 
the stigma of being accused of using drugs for recreational purposes, not 
to mention the diplomatic faux pas, wouldn't be pleasant. He'd seen 
officers forced to retire over a besmirched reputation, even when they 
were guilty of no wrong-doing.
	He sighed again. In the heat of battle, when he had only fractions of a 
second to make decisions, the choices came to him almost with ease. But 
now the decision was nearly impossible. 
	He tapped his comm badge.
	"Picard to Ambassador Sinato. I must speak with you immediately."
#####
	"Talbot, on both Captain Picard's planet and my own, and throughout the 
Federation, a crime such as this is considered exceptionally profane --  ,
"
	"Ambassador, let me assure you, on this planet, too. It is a grievous 
offense, punishable by memory eradication and exile. But we haven't had a 
case in this community in nearly fifteen years. It is extremely rare 
throughout the entire planet. We cherish our women ... what you tell me 
shocks me. There could be no error?" asked the Talbot. He stood at the 
window overlooking the colorful garden, the bright sunlight full in his 
face. To Picard, he looked older, distressed.
	"No. The tests were done twice."
	"Are you sure Beverly is all right? We have excellent physicians. My own 
physician is on call and can be here in minutes," the Talbot said, 
concern real in his voice.
	"She'll be fine. She needs time," said Picard. "She also needs justice.
"
	The Talbot turned to look out the window across the garden.
	"Of course. You'll want DNA samples."
	"Yes. From every Amanti male who might have had access to the residence 
that night," Picard spoke firmly, leaving no doubt what he expected the 
answer to be.
	"Captain, there will be problems with this. I can order my personal 
staff and any of the government officials who attended to provide a 
sample, but the *nitas*, the private citizens ... ," the Talbot shook his 
head.
	Picard walked over to the window to stand next to the Talbot. "We'll 
start with what you can give me," he said. He felt sorry for this man who 
was obviously disquieted by this act of violence under his own roof.
	"I'll call my physician to begin testing. Would you like to have an 
observer from the *Enterprise*?" asked the Talbot.
	"That's a generous offer, Talbot. My security officer will beam down 
shortly," said Picard.
	The Talbot looked across the garden again. "Intellectually, I know 
joining the Federation is good for Amanti, bringing us a new prosperity. 
But I sometimes wonder what else it will bring to my people," he said, a 
trace of sadness in his voice. "I know Dr. Crusher  is the victim here, 
but is this a mark of the changes we will see with this new partnership?
"
	Picard didn't know what to say.
	"Talbot, I sincerely hope not."

#####
	The body lay across the wide bed in the suit of rooms Beverly had used, 
in a pool of deep rusty blood that spread across the beautiful blue and 
green spread and down onto the floor.
	It was Sinot, the servant who had been so kind to her.
	Around the bed, like mourners, stood the Talbot, Picard, Worf, Beverly, 
Deanna, Ambassador Sinot and two Amanti Picard didn't know. Several other 
Amanti Picard took to be peace officers stood discreetly in the back of 
the room.
	"We found tranpozine in his room," said Worf, in his low, rumbling voice,
 "as well as an injector."
	"We'd just taken a sample from him," said one of the men Picard didn't 
know. "He must have come straight here and cut his meninan vein. I just 
finished testing his DNA. He's the one who assaulted you, Commander 
Crusher."
	Beverly looked down into the face, feeling ... what? Victory? Relief? 
Satisfaction?
	Instead, she felt sorrow.
	Picard moved away from the bed, drawing the Talbot with him.
	"Thank you for your assistance, Talbot. I'm sorry it ended this way. But 
I hope this can clear the path for Amanti's joining the Federation," he 
said.
	The Talbot's face was bleak. "I don't know if I would be as forgiving as 
you should our positions be reversed, Captain. But I must say, this is 
completely unexpected, shocking. Sinot has taken care of me and my family 
for as long as I can remember. He has always treated my family and our 
friends with kindness and respect. What could have happened to make him 
do this?"
	Picard shook his head. "There is darkness in all of us -- at least, 
that's what my Counselor tells me."
	The two men both turned to look at Deanna Troi. She looked straight into 
the eyes of the Talbot.

#####
	Two weeks later, Beverly Crusher and Jean-Luc Picard sat in 
companionable silence in the Captain's ready room, sharing a pot of Earl 
Grey tea. Due to the lateness of the hour, the Captain had ordered it 
decaffinated. The stimulant had never kept him awake, but Beverly still 
had trouble sleeping and insisted on the decaffinated kind.
	They had just completed going through physical readiness status of the 
crew, a bi-monthly process that also allowed Picard to catch up on some 
of crew gossip. Ensign Smythe-Jones was pregnant with her first child, a 
long-awaited event for both future mother and father; Lt. t'Ana had 
broken his leg sliding down an engineering ladder in a show of machismo 
for Lt. (j.g.) Anjeski; Kolbenian flu was running rampant through the pre-
schoolers and would probably make its way into the crew before the end of 
the week.
	And now they sat side by side in silence, their work completed.
	Beverly put her tea down.
	"I want to talk about it,"she said.
	He knew what "it" was immediately.
	He put down his tea and gave her his full attention.
	"I hate him, you know. He's dead but I still  hate him more than 
anything. I hate him more than the fates that took Jack away from me."
	Picard sat, unmoving.
	"It's not just that he drugged me and raped me and made me a victim ... 
"
	Picard nodded, encouraging her to go on.
	Beverly's eyes became bright with tears.
	"I was dreaming ... but it wasn't dreaming, it was so real ..." She took 
his hand. "As real as this. I know it was because of the drug, but that 
doesn't stop how I feel. I was with Jack. We were making love. It was ... 
exquisite. He was alive again and we were together. He never died. I 
never went through those years of hell thinking about how his body had 
been ripped apart and that Wesley's last knowledge of his father was a 
box brought back by his father's best friend."
	Jean-Luc felt as if a vice were squeezing his heart. All this inside her;
 all this sorrow. 
	"And then it wasn't real; it was a deceit. I loved Jack more than I have 
ever loved anyone. I can never love anyone the way I loved him. And he 
was gone from me again." The threatening tears spilled over.
	*I can never love anyone the way I loved him.*
	Jean-Luc leaned forward and wiped a tear from her cheek, still 
unspeaking.
	"I know it wasn't real. I tell myself that every day. But it feels real. 
I've lost him again. He's dead again. The pain is a fresh as the first 
time."
	Jean-Luc Picard folded his arms around her, just has he had done more 
than fifteen years ago when he had brought Jack Crusher's broken body 
home. He stroked her hair comfortingly and let her cry.
	When she finally pulled away, her eyes and noses were red and her cheeks 
were wet. He handed her an old-fashioned handkerchief.
	"Picard to the rescue," she said, wiping her eyes. "Saving damsels in 
distress."
	"That's what I'm here for," he said, lightly. "Damsel-rescuing is part 
of the mission. It's in the Starfleet SOP."
	She laughed lightly. "I guess I haven't read that chapter of the 
Standard Operating Procedures."
	She blew her nose noisily and stood up. "I guess I better get some sleep.
 The Captain on this ship is a stickler for promptness and I'm having 
breakfast with him at 0700."
	She started for the door, then stopped and turned.
	"Jean-Luc. Thanks. I'm a lucky woman to have a friend like you."
	He smiled at her, the vice around his heart squeezing tighter.
	"Anytime."

#####
	"This must never happen again."
	The Ambassador stood in the doorway to the Talbot's office, his hands in 
the sleeves of his jacket, his face frozen of expression.
	The Talbot glanced up.
	"What must, as you say, never happen again?"
	The Ambassador walked silently to the Talbot's desk. He leaned over it 
slightly to get close to the Talbot's face.
	"A member of the Federation will never be harmed again on this planet."
	The Talbot laughed slightly.
	"Oh come, Ambassador. The woman was only an Earther. It's not like she 
was an Amanti. Or Vulcan. And it's not as if she was hurt. In fact, I 
assure you, she enjoyed it. Immensely."
	The Vulcan placed his hands on the Talbot's smooth cold desk.
	"I am negotiating something very important with you now, Talbot. I am 
negotiating your life. Should you ever touch another officer of the 
Federation -- should any Amanti touch any citizen of the worlds of the 
Federation -- I will ensure they die. And I will not worry overly about 
their individual guilt. On this issue, one Amanti will be as good as 
another."
	The Talbot gave him a startled look.
	"Ambassador, you surprise me. That is one of the most illogical 
statements I've ever heard."
	The Ambassador stood, and calmly placed his hands in the sleeves of his 
jacket again.
	"I think, Talbot, that our reputation for logic may, at times, be 
specious. Certainly it is in this case."

###the end###