Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 14 Apr 2004 14:40:58 -0700  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com (whoa nellie) 
 

Title: Double Entendre 
Author: Whoa Nellie (whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com)
Series: TNG 
Repost: 8/10
Rating: NC-17 
Codes: P/Vash, W/T, D/f
Synopsis: During the Enterprise E's final fittings, Vash comes onboard
as the ship's Chief Archaeologist. The evil Alternate Picard from the
mirror universe appears to steal the new ship's schematics when he
spots Vash and decides to take her with him. Can Picard stop his
counterpart, saving his ship and the woman he loves?

As always: Paramount owns all the marbles.  We just have a lot more
fun playing with them.
Feedback is always appreciated - posted or e-mail. 

Whoa Nellie's Picard/Vash Romance Fanfiction website: 
http://www.geocities.com/TimesSquare/Galaxy/7926/ 

Whoa Nellie's Sci-Fi Romance Fan Fiction website is at:
http://www.geocities.com/whoa_nellies2000/

CONTINUED FROM PART 7

	The next couple of hours seemed to drag by for Picard, finally his
shift ended and he made his way to his quarters.   As soon as he
walked in he knew Vash was already there.  The light setting was that
of romantic candlelight, the table was set for a romantic dinner for
two with fine china, crystal wine goblets, a bottle of his family's
finest vintage, and a centerpiece consisting of a lit silver
candelabra surrounded by several dozen red roses.  He had sent the
roses to her earlier that day.

	"Hey, soldier," came Vash's soft, seductive whisper from behind him. 
She had enjoyed watching him, the way his uniform emphasized the
tightly-leashed strength contained in his corded muscles.  Jean-Luc's
sleek, muscular build looked like the chiseled body of Apollo.  'Like
Apollo, hell, this man is Apollo,' she smiled slightly to herself as
she studied the tight muscles in his thighs and backside.  She was
sure he had no idea just how sexy he looked in the close cut of his
uniform pants.  She also knew he would never believe the number of
women onboard who took great enjoyment in watching him walk the
corridors of his ship.  He would never believe that it was him, and
not Will Riker, that the women onboard fantasized and talked about. 
The only thing the ladies onboard talked about more than his physique
was that deep, sexy, resonating voice.  Sorry ladies, this fine
stallion is all mine.

	Picard turned to see Vash standing in the doorway of his bedroom, she
looked so bewitching that he forgot to breathe.  Her brunette hair
fell in a soft cascade to her shoulders, framing her rose-petal lips
and the flutter of her dark lashes.  Her delicate features and ivory
skin were highlighted by the warm candlelight.  She wore a full length
lounging gown made of black velvet, the glamorous wrap style of the
gown created a plunging neckline and a high slit up the leg; its only
fastening was a rhinestone clasp that sparkled against the velvet at
her right hip.  She matched his height in the black spike heels that
she wore.  She slowly sauntered across the room to him.

	"Thank you for the beautiful roses.  When you wrote that message on
the card, is this what you had in mind, Mon Capitaine?" she asked in
that soft whisper.  He was so sexy in that uniform.  Eventually, she
was just going to have take it off of him.

	"It's perfect.  You look lovely."  Picard could barely speak.  He
offered her his arm.  "Shall we?" He led her to the table, seated her
and then himself.

	They spent nearly two hours talking and laughing over dinner about
numerous topics.   The conversation waned and Vash took a sip of wine.
 Picard noticed her watching him over the rim of the goblet.   He
watched as she put the goblet down, running her index finger
delicately around the rim before moving her hand down to the stem. 
Lingeringly, she began stroking up and down the stem with her
fingertips.  Picard felt his entire body tighten in response.  He
moved his gaze away from the goblet to refocus his attention on her. 
Wetting her lips seductively with just the very tip of her tongue,
Vash released the glass and sat back in her chair.  She stretched,
provocatively arching her back and then she crossed her legs in the
opposite direction they had been in.  The movement caused the gown to
fall open exposing her long legs up to mid thigh. He could just see a
glimpse of the lace edging at the top of the black silk stockings she
was wearing.  He stared at her, completely transfixed.  Every muscle
in his body was taut with the desire that she was rousing in him.  The
only Picard Maneuver he was thinking of tonight was how to remove that
dress and get this alluring creature into his bed.  He forced his gaze
back up to her face.  Her blue eyes were sparkling and she had a
small, satisfied smile on her face.

	'That enchanting little siren,' Picard thought.  'She knows exactly
what she's doing to me.  She's playing me like a virtuoso and I am
reacting like a schoolboy.  Well, two can play at this game.'  Picard
stood and, without a word, he took Vash's hand and pulled her up into
his arms.  Teasing her with a brief almost-kiss, he barely brushed his
lips to hers.  He could smell the delicate perfume she wore; it was
more intoxicating than any wine.  Encircling her small waist with his
powerful arms, he crushed her body to his.  He cherished her delicate
features one by one dropping reverent kisses on her forehead, each
eyelid, across both cheeks, and, finally, the tip of her nose.  He was
pleased to hear her breathing become as shallow as his own as he
caressed her perfect curves through the soft velvet of her gown.  All
the while, he pressed tiny, heated kisses to her face and throat. 
Again, he barely brushed his lips to hers.  Picard continued with
small tentative kisses, his lips gently teasing hers.  When his mouth
finally settled over hers in a deep, passionate kiss, he felt her body
arch into his.  Picard always believed that a man should kiss a woman
the way he would make love to her, starting off slow and letting the
passion build.  He slipped his tongue past her lips to gently stroke
and caress the warm, moist cavern of her mouth.  Vash wound her arms
around to splay her hands against the back of his head to pull him
closer.  He deepened the kiss and his tongue plundered the depths of
her mouth.

	Desperate to ease the ache building inside her, Vash arched into him,
feeling the entire length of his hard, muscular form against every
inch of her own quickly-overheating body.  The way his mouth and
tongue were possessing her threatened to completely undo her.  When he
finally broke the kiss, Vash stared at him in wonder.  Her heart was
pounding, she was flushed and her knees felt as if they were about to
buckle under her.  Even through the uniform, she could feel the sinewy
muscles in his arms, chest and back.  The clean, masculine scent of
his aftershave mixed with the smell of fine wine on his warm breath.  
The sheer virility and masculine presence of this man were almost
overwhelming.  She felt as if she had just been made love to, and all
he did was kiss her; she needed this man to make love to her.  Running
a fingertip sensuously over his bottom lip, she murmured. "You are the
only man in the universe who can make love to a woman simply by
kissing her."

	"You're the only woman who could drive a man mad with desire simply
by playing with a wine goblet,"  Picard retorted softly, kissing her
fingertip.

	Then he swept Vash up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. 
He set her down at the foot of the bed and watched, mesmerized, as she
took a slow, seductive step back, unhooked the clasp of her gown, and,
with a gentle roll of her shoulders, it slid off her in one fluid
movement.  Vash's curvaceous silhouette was left wrapped only in a
black, lace-and-satin merrywidow.  With every breath she took, the
full curves of her breasts threatened to overwhelm the plunging
neckline of their satin and lace confines.  The lace-trimmed, black,
silk stockings he had glimpsed earlier enveloped the shapely length of
her legs.  The merrywidow was fastened by tiny silk bows down the
front.  Each bow acted as an irresistible lure beckoning to him.  With
his pulse racing, his breath lodged in his throat at the sultry vision
in front of him.

	"Breathe, Captain," Vash commanded in a lascivious tone, reaching up
to trace his communicator with a fingertip.  She reveled in the ragged
sound his breath made as he inhaled shakily.  Deftly, she unhooked the
fastenings of his uniform jacket. She slid it off his shoulders and
down his arms letting it drop.  She ran her hands over the sleek and
powerful muscles in his arms and chest.  Her hands lingered of their
own accord on the solid, bulging biceps of his upper arms. The tender
strength they represented was an unrivaled source of amazement and
arousal to her.  Her hands started to roam over hard expanse of his
chest, enjoying the feel of his muscles rippling under her
ministrations.  Beneath her sensitive fingertips, she could feel his
hardened nipples, daring her.  Brazenly, she rubbed her thumbs over
the rigid nubs.

	Picard's broad shoulders jerked as he quickly controlled the shudder
of need that ripped through his body.  Pulling her back into his arms,
he captured her lips in another deep kiss.  As his tongue slipped past
her parted lips to ardently explore her mouth, he felt his hardness
grow with every passing moment.  His hands slid up her body to
possessively caress the full curves of her breasts through the thin
fabric, feeling her tremble at his touch.  The peaks hardened as his
thumbs drew slow, deliberate circles around them. By the time he slid
his mouth from hers to explore the soft skin of her throat, she was
completely breathless.  Enjoying the sweet scent of her, he murmured,
"And just who is short of breath now, mademoiselle?"

	"Please . . . Jean-Luc," Vash gasped, rolling her head back to bare
her throat to the gentle onslaught of his mouth.  Her body arched into
the heaviness as Jean-Luc's thumbs caressed her aching nipples.  He
allowed her no respite.  When his lips reached the hollow of her
throat, he rapidly flicked his tongue against her pulse point causing
her to suck in her breath.  She shivered in anticipation from the
erotic pressure from his hard arousal pushing against her through the
fabric of his trousers.  She cupped his hips and pulled him closer. 
"Oh God, I can feel you."

	Picard groaned at the sensations that the contact of her hips invoked
in him.  Wanting to slow them both down, he pulled back slightly to
rein in his increasing desires only to have Vash immediately go on the
offensive.  She began slowly moving her hands down him, her teasing
fingertips brushing over his coarse chest hair and down his abdomen as
they inched their way toward the waistband of his trousers.  She
slipped her hands lower to find the evidence of his need for her.  His
hard length strained against the fabric of his trousers, throbbing
against her small, talented hands as she caressed him.  He gazed down
at her.  The playful expression on her lovely face left no doubt what
the vixen had planned next and his body leapt at the idea; however, he
had other plans.  Taking a deep breath, he gently captured her hands,
stopping her from going any further. His bedroom baritone was tinged
with a hint of amusement, "Oh no you don't, petite amie.  You used
that delightful maneuver last night and almost caused me to forfeit
the game."

	The idea that she could actually test the limits of this man's
legendary self-control sent a highly-charged, erotic thrill coursing
through Vash.  When he released her hands, she looked up into his
handsome, chiseled features and cooed, "Johnny, doing that to you is
such an delicious turn on, it's more than worth the risk."

	"Tonight, I want only to cherish you," Picard whispered fervently as
he impatiently wove his fingers into the first satin ribbon that held
the merrywidow closed.

	"Oh yes."  With a sigh Vash closed her eyes, her head falling back as
she heard the warm timber of his voice and the answer it carried.  She
felt butterflies in her stomach as Jean-Luc slowly untied each satin
bow of the merrywidow in its turn.  The butterflies turned to shivers
of desire as the satin and lace fell to the floor.

	"So beautiful," Picard rasped as his heated gaze swept over the
enchanting nymph standing in front of him clad only in black high
heels and silk stockings.  His attention was drawn to the soft ivory
skin and lush roundness of her breasts.  As his hands gripped her
tightly around her tiny waist, he lowered his head to imprison one
rosy tip with his mouth.  She shuddered as he pulled and teased the
taut nipple.

	As his mouth gently tormented first one breast then the other, Vash
felt streaks of fire racing through her body from the tender peaks. 
His mouth left her breasts to leisurely travel back up to her neck. 
He encircled her waist with one arm, drawing her body tightly against
him.  Her breasts were now crushed against the muscular expanse of his
chest, the coarse hair searing her already inflamed nipples. His other
hand moved around to cup her head, pulling her mouth to his in a
fiercely passionate kiss.  His tongue plunged past her parted lips,
staking claim to everything in its path.  Without breaking the kiss,
Jean-Luc swept her up in his arms and laid her down on the bed,
positioning himself between her long legs and stretching out
full-length to cover her body with his own.  The hard length of his
body weighted her down, crushing her body into the bedding.  Vash
reeled from the onslaught of sensations.  Heated waves of arousal
caused a tight knot of desire in her stomach by the time his mouth
finally released hers.  Breathing hard, Vash looked up to see Jean-Luc
raised above, studying her face.  Leaning in, he placed an open mouth
kiss on the hollow of her throat, flicking his tongue very rapidly
against the pulse point.  She closed her eyes and rolled her head back
on the pillow, softly moaning.

	Picard's mouth made its way down the silken expanse of her skin to
the full curves of her breasts.  His lips imprisoning the straining
nipple of one of her breasts, he leisurely swirled his tongue over the
taut peak.  Vash moaned his name as she held his head with both hands,
pulling him even closer.  Savoring her impassioned reactions, he
nipped at the hardened crest slightly before suckling strongly.  Only
when he felt her writhing beneath his hot, moist assault did he allow
one hand to drift lower until it reached its intended destination.  He
gently cupped his hand over her, hearing her gasp as his fingertips
barely brushed her desire.  What he discovered drove his own need up
yet another notch.  His voice resonated over her skin as he rasped
hoarsely, "You're wet."

	"Oh Jean-Luc," Vash whimpered, her arms now down at her sides, hands
clutching at the sheets.  Her entire body felt as if it was made of
liquid flames.  Jean-Luc's fingers stroked her with the skill of a
maestro, taking her to near insanity. "Ohhh  . . . Please  . . . it's
too much."

	"Not nearly,"  Picard breathed in her ear, nipping at the sensitive
earlobe as he continued to arouse her, searching for her body's
rhythm.  As her hips started to move against his hand, he growled with
masculine satisfaction, "Right there, chere? . . .Oui . . .right
there."

	"Not yet,"  Vash panted trying to hold back. "I need your body inside
mine."

	Picard had never seen anything as erotically compelling as Vash at
the peak of ecstasy.  As he continued arousing her overheated body, he
rasped into her ear, "Just let it happen, chere."

	"I love you, Jean-Luc!" Vash cried out as the burning needs his
questing hand was building threatened to overwhelm her.

	"Tell me again!" Picard commanded in an urgent whisper.  Vash's
passionate admission drove his desire up to an almost unbearable
level. "Say it, chere!"

	With every caress of his knowing fingers, waves of intense sensations
flooded over Vash.  Jean-Luc was taking her closer and closer to the
peak of ecstasy.  It was the sound of his voice, rough with his own
sexual arousal, that finally sent her over.  As the waves of pleasure
over took  her, she cried out, "I love you, Jean-Luc.  I love you!"

	Before the tremors could end, Vash felt the warm heat of Jean-Luc's
mouth replacing his hand.  She whimpered mindlessly as he licked and
softly kissed the core of her desire.  His tongue probed and caressed
her, rebuilding the fire.  His hot mouth was relentless, tasting her
deeply and insisting on total surrender.  His lips and tongue brought
about a second, even stronger, release, right on the heels of the
first.  Vash collapsed back against the soft bedding, trying to catch
her breath and regain her senses as spasms continued to race through
her body.  Her eyes fluttered open to find him hovering over her.  She
gazed into his desire-hardened, steel-grey eyes.

	Bracing his arms on either side of her shoulders, he placed himself
between her long, shapely legs.  From deep in his throat, he rasped
softly, "I love you; promise me you'll never leave me."

	"I'll never leave.  I'm yours," Vash vowed breathlessly, reaching
down between them to open his uniform trousers.  As her hands freed
him, she pleaded,  "Please make love to me, Jean-Luc."

	Picard shuddered at the sensations caused by her small skillful
hands.  He had to have her, now.  Entering her with one powerful
thrust, he rumbled, "Vash . . . my beloved Vash."

	"Ohhhh Jean-Luc," Vash moaned as his throbbing length glided easily
into her heated depths.  She matched him motion for motion as he drove
into her hard and fast.  She could feel him bury himself deep inside
her, filling her completely with each thrust.  Her hands stroked the
tightly sculpted muscles of his arms, feeling the strong muscles
ripple and bunch with every forceful movement of his body.  She cried
out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her and his
body violently plummeted into her own.

	A thin sheen of perspiration covered Picard's body as he struggled to
keep from losing himself to the burning pleasure of her body moving in
complete synchronization with his own.  Vash's sweet cries of passion
spurred him on to even higher heights of desire.  Fiercely, he drove
himself deep into her and the cadence became one of furious intensity
as he demanded total possession of her body.

	"Now. . . Jean-Luc!  Ohhh . . . yes . . . now!" Vash screamed out as
the overwhelming pressure mounting inside her finally detonated in an
explosive release of wave after wave of ecstasy.

	Picard continued to drive his body into hers relentlessly.  He thrust
himself into her with an ever increasing urgency.  With one last
forceful thrust, he held himself deep inside her.  As his own powerful
release ripped through him, he groaned aloud.  Collapsing onto her,
Picard's body was damp and his breathing labored from the physical
exertion.  He let out a contented sigh as he felt her small hands
traveling over the muscles of his back.  "I'm an old man with a fake
heart; I'm just not up for all this activity anymore."

	"Well, you certainly fooled me . . .all three times today," Vash
panted, giving his tight backside a playful slap.  "Artificial heart
not withstanding, I would hardly call you an old man.  An older man
perhaps, but you've proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that you're not
too old for this."

	Raising himself up on his elbows, Picard shook his head in
bemusement, "From the moment I met you I knew you were going to be
trouble."

	"You're a man who can handle trouble; very well, I might add," Vash
teased with an arched eyebrow.   Suddenly serious, she continued
softly. "I love you."

	"I love you," came his passionate response.  He smiled and his tone
became gently teasing.  "So, why do you look like the cat that
swallowed the canary?"

	"Oh, I don't know.   Maybe because this 'sexy little mattress kitten'
just seduced Captain Jean-Luc Picard, the most sought-after man in the
entire Federation," she sighed happily.  "Did he really call me that?"

	"Yes, and what do you mean you seduced me?"

	"Well, I did," Vash softly laughed. "Look at yourself, my love.  You
were so desperate to have me that you still have on your uniform pants
and boots."

	Picard chuckled.  She was right.  "It wasn't fair.  You cheated."

	"How?"

	"All that expensive lingerie.  No mere mortal man could fight against
all that silk, satin, and lace."

	"I told you earlier, I meant business.  This time I'm playing to
win."

	"Then, I'm a very lucky man."

	"Jean-Luc"

	"Yes"

	"It's late, Please get undressed and come to bed."

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

	Early the next morning, Picard straightened his uniform and walked
out of the bedroom to join Vash and Beverly Crusher for breakfast.  He
stepped into the main room and looked at the two ladies seated at the
table with their heads together, giggling like schoolgirls.  He snuck
up behind them.

	"What's this?" he asked in a deep, teasing tone, as they tried to
hide a rather well-worn book.  He leaned down and just managed to snag
it from Vash.  "Gemini's Mistress?  Oh, this sounds like real classic
literature."

	"It's just for fun, Jean-Luc.  Of course, it's not a classic like
those Dixon Hill novels of yours," Beverly said in a teasing tone  
Then she quoted one of the more cheesy lines from Dixon Hill.  "'She
was a redhead to make a priest think twice.'"  Then she dramatically
tossed her own red hair.

	"Beverly and Deanna thought since I've lived the plot, maybe I should
read it," Vash explained as she noticed him reading the plot summary
on the back.  She held her hand out for the book.

	Picard wasn't ready to hand it over.  "It's certainly well-read. 
Maybe I should just see what all the uproar is about."  He let the
book fall open to the passage they had been reading.

	"That's not a good idea . . ."  Both women started to say, as he read
the passage.

	"Sacre Bleu!" he exclaimed.  His face had flushed so red that he
matched the crimson of his uniform.  "You ladies are all reading
this?"  He finally managed to gasp.  "This is pornographic!"

	Vash looked at Beverly with her eyes wide.  "He says that like it's a
bad thing," Vash laughed as she took the book from him. "We did try to
warn you, Mon Capitaine, but you wouldn't listen."

	Joining in Vash's amusement, Beverly looked at Jean-Luc, "She's
definitely a keeper," she managed between giggles.

	With both of them still giggling at his shocked reaction, Picard
decided that it was time to exercise the better part of valor.  "If
the two of you will excuse me, I'm going to go to work."  He left.  He
could eat breakfast in his ready room.

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

	Worf quietly entered Deanna's quarters.  He listened, but only heard
the soft sounds of her sleeping.  He smiled to himself, a breakfast
tray in his hands.  He had ordered her favorite breakfast, Belgian
waffles with strawberries and tons of whipped cream.  He also had
orange juice and a cup of her favorite mocha coffee on the tray.  In
the center of the tray was a silver bud vase with a single red rose
surrounded by baby's breath.  He walked into the bedroom, sat the tray
on the bedside table and leaned over to gently brush her lips.  Deanna
stirred, stretched, and opened her eyes to find a smiling Klingon
leaning over her.

	"Worf, what are you doing here?  And just what time is it?" Deanna
was still trying to wake up.  Then she saw the breakfast tray.  "Oh
Worf.  That is so sweet, a rose and my favorite breakfast.  What did I
do to deserve this?"

	"Something I hope you'll do again right now."  He leaned over to
claim her lips in a deep, passionate kiss.  Immediately, Deanna
responded.  She reached up to pull Worf deeper into her own body. 
Mindlessly, she moved sinuously against him.  Worf threw his head back
to draw in a deep breath.  He lowered his head again to nibble at the
sensitive spot on her neck just below her ear.  At her sharp gasp, he
growled into her skin.  His hands slowly drew the covers back to
expose her soft body to him.  Worf drew back slightly to gaze down at
her in the bright red, satin negligee that she had been sleeping in. 
Her full breasts strained at the sheer fabric as Deanna tried to bring
her breathing back under control.

	Deanna protested at the loss of contact and pulled Worf back down to
her.  He moved onto the bed, still fully clothed, to cover her body
with his own.

	"Your breakfast is getting cold, Deanna," Worf whispered raggedly in
her ear.

	"We're just getting warmed up,"  Deanna responded succinctly as she
drew his face down to hers for another kiss.

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

	Riker paced back and forth in front of the alternate's cell.  He had
not expected the impostor to be cooperative and the alternate was not
letting him down; moreover, he seemed to be mildly amused.

	"It's almost 0700, Commander Kerrgan disappeared well over 24 hours
ago," Riker sighed,  "We know that you killed him.  Security at
Planitia  have found phaser burns in his office."

	"Very good, Commander.  You are a very thorough investigator."  From
the smirk on the alternate's face, Riker knew that it wasn't meant as
a complement.  "Pity that my Riker isn't as diligent; but then again,
he does have more fire.  He's willing to take risks.  I'm sure that he
would jump at the first chance to command-"

	"Enough."  Riker's tone was firm   "Don't bother with insults.  I am
a Starfleet officer and as for fire, just wait."

	The alternate stood and looked Riker in the eye.  "Number One, I
never meant to insult you.  I meant to congratulate you, very few have
had the honor of keeping me their prisoner."  The impostor paused and
smiled, "And none have done so for very long."

	A moment later a shimmering transporter beam enveloped the alternate.
 Riker immediately opened a channel to the bridge. "Riker to bridge. 
Intruder alert!  The impostor has escaped.  He was just beamed out of
the brig."

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

	Data  quickly reacted to the first officer's message. "Understood,
Commander."

	The second officer scanned his sensor panel.  "I have a transporter
beam in cargo bay two."  He opened a channel. "Security team to cargo
bay two."

	The android's face was suddenly twisted with confusion.  His sensor
panel flickered again.  This time the panel revealed a transporter
signal in Ten Forward.  "Security team to Ten Forward."

	Picard walked over to stand behind his second officer.  The sensor
panel was soon filled with the orange glow of transporter signals.  In
seconds, the screen was a solid shade of orange.

	"Data,"  Picard said, "Report."

	"Unknown,"  Data replied. "It appears that the impostor has generated
a program which creates false transporter signals.  It is likely that
our internal sensors have also been affected."

	"Can you filter out these images?" the captain questioned.

	"Not presently, sir," the android scanned the screen.

	"Wonderful,"  Picard paced the length of the bridge and then stopped.
 "Yellow alert."

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

	Barclay rubbed his eyes and re-entered the sequencing code.  This
wasn't right, everything had been prepared last week.  The sequencing
code HAD to be wrong.  He cleared his throat. "Computer, access
Barclay file 121."

	"Unable to comply.  Warp coils are in operation."

	The lieutenant shook his head.  "No they're not," he replied in a
sarcastic sing-song voice.  "We're still in dry dock.  Stupid-"

	"Problem, Reg?"

	Barclay turned to face Geordi LaForge.  He had not expected the
commander to be in the engine room quite so early.  He had been trying
to impress Geordi with his programming skills. Instead he had
embarrassed himself . . . again.

	"Well uh,"  Barclay stammered, "The sequencing program isn't working
properly.  I-i-t-t says that w-w-e-e are preparing to jump into warp. 
T-t-h-h-at can't be right."

	The engineer shrugged and sat down at the console.  "Let's have a
look."  He surveyed the readouts, "Are the sequencers in order?"

	Barclay nodded and began to speak but stopped.

	Geordi smiled.  "You have to learn to speak up, Reg.  If you want to
get noticed, you have to take a little initiative."

	"All right, sir."  Barclay's voice was a little more confident.  "The
engines are generating a pre-warp field similar to the Soliton Wave
tested a few years ago by Ja'Dar at Bilana III.  I am not certain what
initiated it, but my calculations say that we have approximately
thirty minutes before we go into warp."

	The commander looked at his subordinate.  "I think you're right, Reg.
 The only thing that could cause that is a misalignment of the warp
coil."  He paused, "Theoretically a nearby transporter beam could
cause that during coil initialization but we have the transporters
locked down."

	"The frequencies of the transporter signals used by the federation
couldn't create such an anomaly.  Perhaps a Klingon or Romulan
signal..."  Barclay's voice trailed off.

	"Or the Empire," Geordi said under his breath.

	Riker hurried onto the bridge from the turbolift.  He could see from
the look on the captain's face that he was concerned.

	"Do you have a transporter signal on our prisoner?"  the first
officer inquired.

	"More than we anticipated, Number One, my double is playing games
with us.  Mr. Data has located more than 4,000 signals onboard the
Enterprise."  Picard was coldly fuming.  "I have placed a security
guard with Vash, he may try to reach her.  I am also worried about the
ship, without our security fields in place, he could sabotage this
vessel from virtually any point onboard.  That's assuming he stayed
onboard.  Alert Planitia as to our current situation."

	Geordi's voice broke in.  "LaForge to bridge.  We have a problem down
here.  Has anyone used the transporter recently?"

	"As a matter of fact, yes," Riker curtly replied, "Our prisoner used
it to escape.  He's still at-large."

	"The signal has created a warp coil misalignment.  The ship is
generating a warp field as we speak.  Sir, we'll go into warp in
thirty minutes"

	"Red Alert!" shouted Riker.

	Picard looked at Data. "Is there any way to re-align the coil?"

	Data looked up from the screen.  "Such a misalignment has occurred
only once in the history of Starfleet.  Eighty years ago a
Constitution class vessel-"

	"To the point, Commander."  Picard wasn't in the mood for a
long-winded history of warp coil mishaps.

	"The frequency of the transporter beam.  It has broken the integrity
of the dilithium chamber.  Once we have the exact frequency, we can
compensate for the misalignment in the coil by synthesizing a
re-crystallization within the chamber."

	Riker reeled.  If communications was dull, theoretical warp fields
was worse.  "But, there's more than 300 billion transporter
frequencies.  There's no way we can find the right one in time."

	"Yes there is," Picard stated, "Find my double!"

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

	Deanna arched her shoulders as Worf began sliding the spaghetti
straps of her nightgown from her shoulders one at a time, with his
tongue.  He laid a trail of hot steamy kisses and love bites down both
of her arms before turning his attention to the tantalizing vision he
had just exposed.  His hands drew the nightgown up to bunch around her
hips as they moved to caress her in a most evocative manner.

	"Riker to Worf, report to the bridge."

	"Acknowledged, on my way. " Worf stood on unsteady legs and leaned
over to brush a final kiss on Deanna's forehead.

	"Will Riker, you're a dead man," Deanna panted.  She sat up and
pulled her nightgown back up.

	"Duty calls," Worf had to chuckle as he placed the breakfast tray
across Deanna's lap.  "We'll have to pick this up later."

……………………………..

	Barclay wiped his forehead in exasperation.  Fifteen minutes had
passed since Commander LaForge had left him alone at the observation
console.  His eyes darted across the screens.  Life support was
failing on deck three!  False alarm.  The ship was preparing itself
for an emergency saucer separation!  Another false alarm.  He tried to
calm himself.

	"Barclay to Commander LaForge,"  his voice wavered, "I seem to be
having some difficulties with the internal regulatory systems.  They
appear to be . . . malfunctioning."

	Geordi's voice responded over the intercom.  "Just keep working on
that transporter frequency, Reg.  I'm trying to work the docking
clamps from the hull.  We have teams trying to phaser them off, but
that'll take at least three hours.  If we go into warp now, the ship
will be ripped apart and destroy the station."

	Destroy the station.  Barclay's mind reeled.  Nine minutes and
counting.  Even if the docking clamps were operational . . . his mind
wandered.

	"Reg," Geordi's voice snapped him back into reality

	"I-I-m sorry, sir," he stammered, "I am just doing everything wrong. 
It's like I'm thinking backwards."

	Backwards.

	"Computer," the Lieutenant commanded, "Call up the schematics on the
dilithium chamber."

	'Of course', he thought.  We can push the wave particles back into
the chamber.  A pre-warp cannot be generated inside a dilithium
chamber.  The reaction must take place outside the chamber to infuse
with the matter/anti-matter.  His solution wouldn't last long,
however.  The imminent reaction would only be delayed for an hour or
two.  At that point the ship would be propelled at speeds greater than
warp nine.

	"Commander,"  Barclay opened a channel to LaForge, "I think I can
delay the warp field buildup.  But I'm not sure if it will work."

	"Reg," Geordi's voice was stressed, "I am willing to try almost
anything at this point.  What more could go wrong?"

	Barclay hesitated.  "Well, if it works, my plan would destroy the
ship in an entirely different way but not for another hour or two."

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

	Worf looked to the captain.

	"Sir, I have Commander LaForge."

	"Go ahead."  Picard sat down in the captain's chair.

	"Sir, Barclay has came up with a way of delaying the warp field
buildup.  We're feeding the particles back into the dilithium chamber.
 That will buy us about ninety more minutes. There is a drawback,  If
we don't come up with that frequency within ninety minutes, we will
not only jump into warp, we may be the first ship in history to
achieve true transwarp."

	Data looked at Picard and Riker.  "That possibility would result in
the instantaneous vaporization of this ship."  The android then
smirked and looked up at Riker,  "Out of the frying pan?"

	"And into the fire," Riker completed the phrase.  "Geordi. Is there
any way to clear the internal sensors.  We are now reading ship-wide
failures."

	"My instruments concur with yours," the engineer responded, "My guess
is that our intruder programmed in these false signals to keep us from
being able to locate him.  As far as engineering is concerned, the
ship is fine.  Relatively speaking, that is."

	Worf spoke up.  "Recommend that a security team be posted in
engineering.  The intruder may try to further disrupt ship systems."

	Picard nodded.  "Agreed, Mr. Worf.  Make it so.  Also, post a
security guard at each of the transporter stations.  I don't care if
the transporters are locked down, I want someone on guard."

END PART 8

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

--
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Awards Tech Support

http://www.trekiverse.us/ASCAwards/commenting/

No Tribbles were harmed in the running of these Awards

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