Equilibration (Trek uberfic -- UPDATED 8/2/04)

[CaptMurdock]

WebWarlock: I think you mean Dr. Philip Boyce, played by John Hoyt, who was in the original Trek pilot "The Cage," which was later incorporated into the two-parter "The Menagerie." He was chief medical officer under Captain Christopher Pike (Jeffery Hunter). The great scene with the two of them is near the beginning, where they are in Pike's quarters and Boyce starts fiddling with stuff in his "medical kit" (it turns out he was mixing him a martini!). I cribbed the "things you tell your bartender that you'd never tell your doctor" line in Chapter One from that scene. As Boyce explains further into that scene, the two occupations get the same kinds of customers: the living, and the dying.



I see some of you think that Devereux might have been inappropriatly nosy in his 1-on-1 with Tara. Not so. This is her job, people. The reason counselors started appearing on starships in the 24th century was so that the crew could operate as near 100% efficiency as possible, as much as possible. Dr. Govarr, et.al. is charged with keeping these bozos physically healthy. Devereux and Tara have to keep them mentally and emotionally healthy. Some of this is underscored with that report Tara made about Crewman Steinbeck apparently having marital troubles. We wouldn't want Steinbeck not doing his job properly, would we? If he's worrying too much about what (or who, for that matter) his wife is doing while his back is turned, he might realign the plasma conduits wrong, or reassemble the computer subprocessors incorrectly, or accidently dump the warp core. Next thing you know, the Hannibal is flying backwards! Not good.



(on edit: Oh, some of you are no doubt saying that I just stuck that sequence in there for throwaway dialogue and a quick laugh. Never! All this is carefully planned out in advance. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)



xita, relax. This is me, your ol' pal CaptMurdock. Would I ever let anything truly get in the way of W/T! Heh! You should live so long! I gotta warn you though, this is not going to be easy. Remember, Willow still sees herself as straight, and she is still acclimating to her new life. A new relationship at this point is on rather shaky ground.



And then, of course, there is the small problem of the Maquis, including Warren, Jonathan and Faith, and their intended plans on Memory Alpha...and that's only the starting point.



So if you're allergic to anticipation...for gosh sakes, take a pill!

_________________



"Honey, in case you didn't hear me the first six thousand times: no more teleportation spells."

[BigMac]

Hey Capt. just caught back up with this fic and it gets better and better. Take your time it's your story and we all now that Willow and Tara will be happy at the end. But it is how they get thier is the fun part.

Tara: Assume Crash

Positions

[CaptMurdock]

Hello, children.



Yes, I am working on the next part. It's just with the holidays, and with one temp job ending and a new one beginning (yay!) I haven't had a lot of free time. Plus, I want to post The Dinner in one large chunk -- I get tired of posting stuff in dribs & drabs, don't you?



Anyway, as soon as I can, I'll will post what you've all been waiting patiently for.



+ 4 evah!

_________________



"Honey, in case you didn't hear me the first six thousand times: no more teleportation spells."

[Kalita]

Cap, I think I speak for everyone when I say I await the update with bated breath.



Just don't take TOO long, 'kay?

"...you can make those two characters as dewey-eyed in love and it would never be too much."

-Chris Golden, on W/T

[TareBearRS]

YAY BIG update soon!!!

[CaptMurdock]

In addition to the usual disclaimers: The lyrics to the song "That's Amore" are the property of the estate of Dean Martin. I own nothing, so don't even bother to sue.



*******



"Welcome to Calavicci's, Miss," the host, Luigi Calavicci himself, greeted Willow as she stepped through the wood-panelled doors. He affected an Old World ambience with a red vest over a long-sleeved shirt, dark pants and calf-high boots. His voice was lightly accented, something Mediterranean from Earth – Gee, maybe Italian? This is supposed to an Italian restaurant… She hoped her outfit, a dark-green crushed-velour dress, was formal enough for this setting.



"Um, thank you. I'm, uh, with, that is, I'm part of Captain Murdock's party?"



"Yes, Miss, right this way." Luigi led past various tables, where parties of two to four people sat, to a long rectangular table with Murdock at its head. To his right was Devereux, then two empty chairs, then finally the Andorian, Thelvran. On the left side was, respectively, empty chair, DaKar, empty chair, Dr. Govarr.



Officers and gentleman all, they rose as Willow was led over (even Govarr, albeit rather belatedly, finally getting to his feet with an exasperated sigh). Thelvran pulled out a chair for her, next to his; Willow gave him a cheeky smile and thanked him as she sat down.



"Ah, our first guest of honor," Murdock said with a smile. He brushed down his semi-formal dinner jacket, which seemed somewhat old-fashioned in cut, at least to Willow's limited fashion sense. The captain sat down and indicated to her the array of dishes in the middle of the table. "Help yourself to some of the appetizers, Lieutenant."



"Thank you, sir." There were sticks of fried mozzarella cheese, artichokes cellini, stuffed clams, calamari, a full antipasto tray and baked mushrooms. Willow took the small plate in front of her and selected a conservative amount of mozzarella and clams. She had deliberately skipped lunch so she could enjoy this dinner to the fullest extent. After biting into her appetizer, she was wholeheartedly glad she waited.



To her right, Thelvran had resumed his seat and was continuing to munch on something resembling dried beetles in plum sauce. He silently offered one to Willow, who declined politely. The Andorian was wearing an outfit somewhat traditional to his people: a ribbed grey tunic with a green inverted-triangle tabard, with black trousers and boots.



The others were similarly casual, from Devereux and DaKar each in nondescript generic "civvies" to Govarr in his muted silver cool-suit (when not required to wear his duty uniform, the Tellarite preferred to wear the specialized outfit that lowered his body temperature).



A couple of minutes later, the men stood up again. Willow craned herself around, wondering if it was Tara who was arriving. Instead, she saw the first officer, Faraday, dressed in an old-fashioned sari, in tones of orange and light brown, gold hoops in her ears, strappy sandals on her feet. It was almost an effort to reconcile this dusky jewel to the image of the efficient executive officer that Faraday usually projected. Just behind her, Gelfa Kolrami strode in wearing a casual suit made of some shimmering black fabric that caught the light and reflected it with star-like sparkles. She wore her dark brown hair down, though it was still somehow very regimented in style.



Murdock pulled the chair out for Faraday, while DaKar did the honors for Kolrami. That left one empty seat: the one to Willow's left, obviously meant for Tara.



Devereux obviously caught the slightly stricken expression on Willow's face, because he turned to her as he sat back down. "I figured putting you two together would save time. You two would probably be trying to talk to each other all through dinner, over everybody's heads or under the table. So, now you two can gab." He gave her the smug smile of the chess master who has maneuvered his opponent into a classic trap. "Isn't that right, Tara?"



Willow had to steel herself to keep from jumping out of her seat in fright. She gulped, hopefully not audibly, and turned as the male officers once again stood.



Tara, having been guided over to the table by Luigi, strode over the last few feet to be seated in her chair by Devereux. Her dress was muted orange, with swirly patterns of gold embedded within, covering her shoulders but plunging with a V-neck that ended within three centimeters above respectability. She could not help but notice as she came over that the only vacant chair at the table was right next to Willow, which filled her with a feeling not quite strong enough to call dread, but not nearly bright enough to call hope. She nodded at the senior officers and exchanged wan smiles with Willow as she sat in the proffered chair.



Still, she was here. She could feel the general emotional atmosphere of the table as she helped herself to the antipasto and mushrooms, and judged it positive. Tara was not sure if she was amused or not by the fact that Willow's mixed feelings on seeing Tara mirrored her own. She decided to let it go for the moment, especially as the quality of the appetizers overrode any small unpleasantness.



"Now that we're all here," Devereux piped up, "let's order the vino." He summoned over Roberto, Luigi's cousin and the wine steward. "Got any Chateau Picard in the back, 'Berto?"



"I have a case of Picard '51 that I'm rather fond of," the steward replied. "Shall I send out a bottle or two now, or just bring the whole case and be done with it?"



Devereux was about to answer that when the captain cut across him. "Just two bottles for now, please. We'll play this one by ear. Except for Mr. Thelvran, there," he added, indicated the blue-skinned security officer.



Roberto nodded. "Of course, sir. I have a nice half-and-half for our Andorian friend."



"That will be fine, thank you," Thelvran replied.



A few minutes later, the vintage had been decanted and poured, while menus – real, non-electronic-media menus – were handed out to the dinner guests. As promised, Thelvran received his own decanter of "half-and-half." Alcohol had no effect upon Andorians, they having a very different blood chemistry and method of oxygen transport from the other species at the table. Intoxication, to them, came in from certain combinations of Lactobacillus and long-chain hydrocarbons, found mostly in fermented lactose products.



Willow's curiosity led her to inquire politely about to Thelvran, who passed his glass over. The sour-milk smell of the concoction drove her to hand it back as fast as propriety allowed. He smiled as he sipped it generously, giving himself a bit of milk-mustache. "It's a good week," he announced with relish.



"Great!" she replied as kindly as she could, picking up her wineglass and taking a good whiff and a swig to drive the sour-milk smell out. The wine's bouquet accomplished all that, and more.



Looking to her other side, Willow could see that Tara had heard this exchange and was trying to hide her amusement – and her face – behind her menu. Willow surprised herself by, rather than taking offense, thinking it was cute. "Gee, Tara," she said cheekily, "the print on my menu isn't that small. Maybe you should get a shot of Retinax if need to hold something that close just to read it."



Tara lowered the menu, still giggling. "I-I'm s-s-sorry," she managed to choke out. "I really d-didn't mean to, um, listen in."



"Small table." Willow figured she wasn’t going to get a better opening. "Y'know, Tara, I'm the one who should be saying she's sorry…or, I'm sorry."



"Oh, no…Will, I totally overreacted—"



"But, I shouldn't have even said what I said in the first place to make you overreact…I mean, react, 'cause, uh, I don't think you overreacted at all, but anyway, I didn't mean to make you, y'now, react…"



"Wh-why don't we just forget it, okay?" Tara said, a hopeful smile on her face.



"Okay," Willow replied, sticking out her hand. Tara looked at it for a second, a little bemused, then took it. The two of them assumed mock-manly expressions as they vigorously (ostentatiously so) shook hands, ending up looking as if they were both receiving an electromagnetic shock. They broke apart chuckling. Tara felt a knot of tension that had been in her stomach for the last day dissolving. She could a similar feeling of relief not only from Willow, but also from Devereux and (Well well!) from Captain Murdock.



"Now, here is something I've never understood about humans," Thelvran piped up, unintentionally distracting Tara from the question of why two senior officers were so concerned with her friendship with Willow. "Whenever one gives offense and then apologizes, the other says either 'That's okaaaay,' or," (in an exaggerated eastern North American accent), "'Fuggedaboudit!.' Now, if the offense is 'okaaaay,' doesn't that mean that it was not an offense and there was no need for an apology in the first place? And if the one is supposed to 'forget about it,' would not that lead to a probable recurrence of the offense?"



Willow was set to automatically debate the Andorian when the truth of what he said sank it. He had a point, there.



"It has to do with the general imprecision that humans, well, many humanoids have, with language," Kolrami said, in Lecture Mode even at the dinner table. "They inadvertently give offense to one another so often that they need to keep their apologies as simplified as possible. Any formalized asking of forgiveness would take so long and have to performed so often, they would never get anything else done."



Devereux rolled his eyes, while Faraday chuckled quietly. Tara and Willow looked blankly at Kolrami, while DaKar looked amused. Govarr let out his characteristic snuffling laugh.



"Thanks, Gelfa," Murdock remarked, in a voice you could dry out a martini with, "really cleared that up for us." Kolrami, either missing the sarcasm entirely or merely ignoring it, nodded in return.



Luigi came by to personally take their order, along with an older woman who walked with an almost regal air, offset somewhat by the toothy smile she flashed at all her customers. The captain immediately got up and took her hands. "Hello, Mama," he said, kissing her on the cheek.



She returned the kiss, saying, "Sammy, you're a bad boy, avoiding coming in here all this time!" She spoke with a soft accent like Luigi's, and there was enough of a family resemblance to confirm her matronage of both the family Calavicci and the restaurant. "I was starting to think you found yourself another favorite place to eat on this overgrown cruise ship!"



Murdock spread his hands in supplication. "Celeste, honestly, I've been busy."



"'Busy'? Too busy to eat a good meal?" She reached up, nearly over her head, as she was not a tall woman, and clasped his chin. "Ah, don't you worry, Sam. Mama will fix you a good meal, fatten you up again." She patted his stomach affectionately. While he didn't quite roll his eyes or blush, his expression of benign suffering made both Willow and Tara take great pains to hide their smiles. Not a lot of people could get away with embarrassing the captain of a starship; obviously, Celeste and Luigi were very dear to Murdock.



Celeste went around the table, greeting each of the senior officers in turn, receiving gracious responses, even from Kolrami and Govarr. Finally, she stopped at her two newest customers. "And who are these two lovely young girls?"



Murdock introduced Willow and Tara to Celeste, who as it turned out was once one of the Federation's leading biochemists, before marrying Luigi's father and joining him in the business starting by his great-grandfather. Her knowledge of organic fabrication and protein resequencing proved invaluable to the business, reducing their need for natural sources of meat. When Murdock took command of the Hannibal, he had invited them to set up an annex of the original Calavicci's (still standing in its native Milan) on the ship. Over the past four years, it had proved a great success.



"We've sort of adopted Sam over the years," Celeste told the girls, as Murdock sat back down to have Luigi take his order.



"Yeah, but they used to make me sleep in the kitchen," the captain quipped.



Celeste mock-gasped. "Oh, go on with you! I run a clean kitchen," she informed Willow and Tara, nodding to them as she left. The two of them waved to Celeste, then smiled at one another. They were both sure a neat experience, and a wonderful meal was in store for them.



Tara ordered pasta primavera, while Willow decided to try chicken San Marino. After Luigi had taken everyone's orders and went off to place them, several people around the table began small conversations. Willow turned back to Tara.



"Y'know, I was reading the Betazoid cultural database on marital customs, finding out about the arrangements and how they were to promote genetic diversity – which is kinda cool, 'cause on Earth, it was just the opposite –"



"I know," Tara interjected, without a trace of smugness. "Most of my ancestry is from Earth."



"Oh, yeah, of course you'd know. But, anyway, I had a question, um, from reading about Betazoid weddings…"



Oh, here it comes, Tara thought ruefully. If I had a bar of gold-pressed latinum for every time someone asks me about this, I could buy Ferenginar!



"…do they really perform the ceremony in the nude?"



Tara was about to answer when she noticed, to her considerable chagrin, that all conversation at the table had stopped. All of the senior officers, including Captain Murdock, were listening with rapt attention. Devereux was resting his head on his hand, elbow on table, eyebrows nearly touching his hairline, the archetype of the Dirty Old Man and proud of it.



The young counselor decided that as long as she was on the high diving board, she may as well take the plunge. She grabbed her wineglass and downed a considerable portion of its contents, then had to wait until her eyeballs ceased their attempted mad exodus from her head. "Um, y-yes, w-we, I mean, B-Betazoids believe that, um, weddings are celebrations of life, and that everyone there should feel they have n-nothing to hide from one another,” she said, finding the resolve within her to cast a defiant look around the table.



Thelvran blinked. “Would it not be simpler to merely frisk everyone before the ceremony?”



Tara turned to glare at the Andorian, then realized at the curious expression on his face that his question was not meant to be sarcastic, the snickers emanating Devereux and Govarr notwithstanding. “That’s not the point, really. I mean, th-the body is a beautiful thing, no matter what shape it is.”



“Hear, hear,” Govarr put in, his appreciation for physiology coming to Tara’s defense. “We build mighty starships and deadly weapons, but we have yet to improve upon Nature’s handiwork.”



“Well, we tried,” Devereux added, “but all we got out of that was the Eugenics Wars, which really put a damper on the whole idea.”



After the obligatory nods to history, DaKar turned back to Tara. “So have you ever had a Betazoid wedding?”



Tara tried to smile wanly; the result looked somewhere between a cringe and a wince. “I-I’ve never been married.”



“That wasn’t what I asked—“



“Oh, find a new theme, Jodell,” Kolrami admonished, rolling her eyes before settling her gaze back on Tara. “He has this yen for cheap titillation—“



“’Cheap?’ Whaddaya mean, cheap?”



“Knock it off,” Murdock cut in lightly. He looked down the table at Tara. “You don’t have to answer any questions you find too personal, Lieutenant.”

Edited by: CaptMurdock at: 1/11/03 1:27:22 am

[CaptMurdock]

“That’s okay, sir,” she replied, taking another drink from her wineglass. She had the impression that she was going to be doing that a lot this evening. “I don’t mind.



“Actually, while I was at Starbase 134, I went on leave to Betazed, to see my grandmother. She was invited to this wedding, between these two great houses of Betazed. Gran insisted I come along. Now, I knew what this entailed, even though I had never been to a wedding before – they don’t allow minors, for, well, obvious reasons. And, and I really didn’t want to get n-naked in front of strangers.



“So, my clever idea: put on my dress uniform, look all spiffy and official. I’m thinking, they’d never ask me to take this off. Of course, here I am, trying to be Hidden Agenda Gal on a planet full of telepaths.”



“Oops,” Willow said.



“So,” Tara continued, pausing to chuckle briefly, amazed how the passage of years made the story seem funnier, even to her. “Here I am in the chapel, in my dress uniform, and everybody – I mean, everybody is stripping down. Wedding party, families, guests, minister…in less than a minute, everybody in the chapel is stark naked…except m-me. And everybody’s all ‘It’s okay, we understand, don’t worry, we don’t want you doing anything you’re not comfortable with,’ which just makes me feel like a complete dork—“ Willow laughed at the old slang; to Tara’s surprise, so did Captain Murdock.



“Dork?” Thelvran inquired. “Is this animal indigenous to Betazed?”



“Look it up in the cultural database sometime, Thel,” DaKar countered gently. “You were saying?” he prodded in Tara’s direction.



“S-So I’m there, the only one with a stitch on, out of a hundred people in this chapel…and, did I mention, for the benefit of these naked people, they have the heat turned up. Way up. Hot-as-Vulcan up—okay, maybe not that much, but still warm enough to be comfortable in your skin…”



“And way too hot to be in a dress uniform,” Willow concluded.



Tara turned and grinned at her. “I was dying. I think I lasted about five minutes before I…peeled down.”



DaKar grinned. “That has to make for some interesting wedding photos.”



Tara joined in the brief laughter that erupted from the group, then said, “Nope…everybody puts their clothes back on after the ceremony. Good thing, too, as the reception was outside, and it was not summer.”



Murdock nodded. “Well, I don’t know if I can top that story, but I do seem to recall being a guest at an Eastern Orthodox wedding; one of the tenets of that is, for whatever reason, the wedding guests are supposed to stand the entire ceremony. What’s worse, they usually have Mass – a communal religious ceremony –“ he explained for the nonhuman members of the party, “right before the wedding ceremony. I think I had to stand in one place for about four hours.”



“Ouch!” Devereux said. “I don’t think I was on my feet that long at my Academy graduation!”



“What was your wedding like?” Tara asked, taking the opportunity to shift the center of everyone’s attention away from herself.



Devereux leaned back, seemingly contemplating the ceiling. “Nothing fancy, I’m afraid. Rachel and I were actually married by the captain of my ship, at that time, so it was a pretty simple wedding.” He looked back down to his tablemates, a half-smile etching itself on his craggy features. “Now, our wedding night…that was spectacular!”



Around the table the conversation flowed. Faraday’s husband and their three children currently lived at the Daystrom Institute Annex on Rigel III, where he was a director; they occasionally came to the Hannibal for a visit, and would do so two months’ hence. DaKar volunteered that he had been married four times; more exactly, two of his hosts had been married (“not to each other, in case you were wondering,” he added) and a third married twice. His previous hosts had (as far as Jodell could recall) seven children between them. Govarr admitted to his having fathered nine children on his native world, but Tellarite custom did not tend towards long pair-bonds.



Neither Kolrami nor Thelvran had ever been married; in her case, she volunteered, she had never met any man who could meet her standards. Willow conjured up in her own mind a staggering list of qualifications for Gelfa Kolrami’s mate, covering every criterion from occupation to methodology of oral hygiene (Must brush teeth up-and-down. Not side to side). As for Thelvran, he shrugged and averred, “Just haven’t met the right three people.”



Tara turned back to the captain. “Have you ever been married, sir?”



Almost as soon as the words left her lips, Tara could pick up an increase in tension from, not Murdock, who was as unreadable as ever, but from Devereux and (strange!) DaKar. The latter seemed to be feeling not only sorrow and grief, but (stranger!) affection for Murdock. She steeled herself to not stare at the Trill, but could not help but wonder again about the nature of the bond between the two men.



“I was married, once, a long time ago,” the captain answered evenly. He picked up his wineglass and swirled the contents around. To the unasked question in the young counselor’s eyes, he added, “She’s gone, now.” He took a small sip of his wine, then looked over her head at someone approaching from her blind side. “Ah, food sign!” He grinned as he set his wineglass down.



Luigi and a couple of waiters floated their meals out to the table. The smell of basil and garlic wafted through everyone’s noses as plates were set down and baskets of fresh, hot Italian bread were placed in the center. Willow stole a quick look at other people’s selections. Captain Murdock’s veal parmagiana looked fantastic, as did Dr. Devereux’s manicotti. Faraday had vegetarian lasagna; Kolrami had some rather well-organized fettucine alfredo (“How many pasta strands are in here?” she asked Luigi as he set her plate down. “Exactly one hundred and fifty,” he answered without missing a beat, “each strand exactly fifteen centimeters long.” “Capital!”). DaKar was already tucking into an enormous plate of spaghetti & meatballs (“I’m eating for two, you know,” he muttered when more than one person looked askance at the pile o’ pasta on his plate).



She glanced over at Thelvran and Govarr…and wished she hadn’t. Tellarites had something called “pizza,” while Andorians favored a dish they referred to as “linguini,” although neither really bore much resemblance to anything from Italy. She quickly turned back toward Tara, who was just receiving her dish. “What is that again?” Willow asked.



“Pasta primavera,” Tara answered. “Yours looks yummy, too,” she added, indicating Willow’s chicken San Marino.



“Y’know,” Murdock said, between bites of veal, “they used to feed pasta primavera to painters’ models back in the Renaissance. Kept them, uh, healthy-looking.”



Throughout dinner, conversation waned, hampered by people eating food, but did not diminish entirely. As the Chateau Picard kicked in a little, the topics tended to veer off the beaten path of Starfleet protocol. Devereux in particular revealed his fondness for slightly blue jokes, such as the one about the rabbi, the Bajoran vedek and the Ferengi in the gorilla suit. Even Faraday and Kolrami chuckled at that one, while Willow felt as if she were about to fall out of her chair. It might have been the wine more than the joke, as the bottles that were first brought out had been severely diminished and more had been brought out to back them up. The casual yet highly-charged atmosphere, along with the sweet vintage, made Tara far more relaxed than was her wont.



The bread-baskets, too, had been wounded grievously as dinner wore on. Willow managed to stuff the last bite of ham-and-cheese-covered chicken breast into her mouth, chewing slowly while closing her eyes to concentrate on the wonderful taste sensations. DaKar noticed that Willow seemed to be in a world of her own. “You think she’s okay?” he asked the table at large.



"She's either relapsed into neural shock," Govarr ventured, "or she's in the midst of a religious experience."



Tara shook her head. "I think that's her yummy face."



Willow opened her eyes. "Darn straight. This has to be the best meal I've had in…well, over a century," she said with a giggle. She turned to Murdock, smiling admiringly. “Where did you get the idea to have an Italian restaurant on your ship, sir?” Willow asked.



Murdock sat back, a mild expression on his face. “Well, I’ve known the family for years. Luigi’s brother Dante – Danny, as I called him – was my captain, when I was first officer on the Vladivostok.”



All at once, a somewhat uncomfortable silence seemed to descend around the table. Tara’s eyes widened. “You were on the Vladivostok?” she asked, receiving a couple of sharp stares.



Willow felt she was coming in a third of the way through the movie. “What happened?” The sharp looks swung like searchlights to cover her. Tara wished she had kept her mouth shut.



Murdock tried to project an air of equanimity, but even those without empathic abilities could see that this was an old and painful subject to him. “The Vladivostok was one of forty starships that were dispatched to Wolf 359 to engage the Borg.”



Willow shivered. She had read about the monomaniacal cybernetic marauders during her revisions. Possessing technology far superior to the Federation and gifted with the uncanny ability to adapt quickly to almost any weapon or stratagem, the Borg made the Romulans look like pussycats. They tended to assimilate entire species and technologies into their collective, subverting the unfortunate individual into the hive-mind that constituted the entire Borg race. Definitely people that Willow did not wish to meet in a dark alley – or even a well-lit one, for that matter, in bright fluorescent, with big neon letters saying KEEP AWAY – MAJOR BAD GUYS LURKING ABOUT.



“The task force was headed by Admiral J.P. Hanson. All we were told, beyond what we had already been briefed on regarding the Borg, was that they had kidnapped Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise, and that he was probably dead. Actually, what we didn’t know, is that Hanson had been told differently, but he didn’t believe, or didn’t want to believe the truth. That might have saved more lives, but I doubt that would have affected the outcome of the battle much.



“Anyway, the fleet had just assumed a standard formation when the Borg ship dropped out of warp to meet us. Then, this – thing – that had once been Jean-Luc Picard, only with a lot of cybernetic add-ons, appeared on the viewscreen. He told us to drop our defenses and prepare to be assimilated. Well, we basically called out ‘Hey, rube!’ and went in swinging.



“You’d think that a ship that was basically a big cube wouldn’t be able to move tactically against our formation. You’d also think that a race as powerful as the Borg would pretty much disdain anything as primitive as ‘strategy.’ Well, you would be wrong. The Borg used their size to drive a wedge between our formation, dividing us into smaller and smaller elements. Some of the ships regrouped and tried to outflank the enemy. Only problem was, it was like outflanking God.



“Danny – Captain Calavicci – ordered us in after the first wave of the attack, when the Melbourne, the Gage, and the Saratoga were destroyed. The Vladivostok had these phaser cannons, and I figured they would chop that cube up like cheese. No such luck. After the first volley, the Borg ship learned how to absorb them.”



Murdock leaned his elbows on the table, shaking his head, not seeing his senior officers but rather the past. “Phasers, photon torpedoes, everything we had was ineffective. Worse, it seemed that the Borg knew what we going to do almost before we ourselves did.



“That’s when it hit me: Picard wasn’t dead, or just transformed into a walking adding machine. He’d been assimilated into the collective’s group-mind. They, or maybe it, knew what he knew: weapons, defenses, protocols, tactics. He knew the whole playbook; hell, he had written half of it. Picard was our best captain, and they were using him to beat. It was like having half our strategies being picked by the enemy. We had no chance.



“So, after about the twenty or twenty-five ship to be destroyed, I recommended to Captain Calavicci that we pull back, regroup, try to come up with a different strategy, or at least get our asses out of a losing situation. We were getting hammered; our side had already lost half its strength and the Borg didn’t look worse for the wear.”



Murdock took a deep breath, obviously having to steel himself to tell the next part. "I've seen Danny face off against Cardassians and Tzenkethi, seen him make split-second decisions while having phasers pointed in his face…but this time, he hesitated. I think he knew I was right…but he just couldn’t face the fact that we were beaten. He just couldn't run from a fight, even when we were losing. I didn’t like it either, and if it was just me, I would have stayed, but we had five hundred people on the Vladivostok. Were we supposed to throw their lives away, just because pride wouldn't let us fight another day?" He sighed. "'Death before dishonor' sounds great in the Academy, but it's a little less inspiring when you have to write a letter to someone's mother and father."



The air around the table felt heavier, thicker, almost reluctant to enter Willow's lungs. Having lost virtually everyone she had known in her life, she could definitely empathize with Murdock's grief.



"Danny and I go round and round with it for maybe half a minute before he says "That's enough, Number One!" As an aside, he said to Faraday, "See, that's where I picked it up. He opened his mouth to give an order…and to this day, I can't be entirely sure what he was going to do: stay and fight, and probably die, or retreat…when an EPS conduit overloaded behind us. I got slammed to the deck with a small plasma burn and fractured ribs. Danny wasn't so lucky.



"After that, I was in command. I contacted the remaining ships in the taskforce and recommended a 'strategic withdrawal.' None of them wanted to disengage. Said they'd fight to the death." He shook his head. "I took the Vladivostok out as three more ships were destroyed, trying to beat the Borg. I beamed aboard every escape pod I could find amongst the wreckage of the ships, and headed towards Alpha Centauri. I figured heading towards Earth was the fire to Wolf 359's frying pan."



Willow let out a breath that she did not even realize she was holding. "What happened after that? I mean, I know the Borg ship was destroyed in Earth orbit, but…Captain, you must have gotten some flack…" she trailed off uncertainly.



"There was a Board of Inquiry about my actions. I was cleared of any misconduct, although there was a rather vocal minority in Starfleet who wanted me court-martialed. 'Cowardice in the face of the enemy.' After a few months, they tapped me for command of the Hannibal.



"Luigi and Mama – Celeste – they had always treated me like family. Danny dragged me home on leave with him once; I swear Celeste stuffed me for four days straight with enough pasta and marinara sauce to make a Roman emperor swear off the stuff." He smiled, a sad expression for all its sincerity. "I guess after Danny was gone, we all wanted to look after each other."



The mood around the table had, understandably, become rather somber, which became bizarrely counterpointed by the sudden arrival of lilting music: violin, squeeze-box accordian and guitar. Murdock looked over in the general direction the music was coming from. "Oh, speak of the devil…"



Tara and Willow looked around. Luigi walked in front of the trio, singing an Italian aria to the people at the other tables, his tenor obviously practiced but heartfelt. Willow turned and grinned at Tara, who returned it with eyes shining for several reasons.



Devereux murmured sidelong to Murdock, "They're heading this way."



"I have eyes, Doctor."



Faraday leaned over. "Shall I call the bridge and request emergency beam-out, sir?" she asked teasingly.



"Oh, shut your biscuit-trap, Number One," the captain replied in a light tone. The Sikh woman smiled at the gentle rebuke.



The quartet drifted over to the captain's table, the scansion shifting neatly to a waltzing tune, then Luigi began to croon:



When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie,

That's amore



Murdock rolled his eyes, threw down his napkin, pushed back his chair and joined in with a decent baritone:



When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine

That's amore



He and Luigi stood side-by-side and raised their voices to serenade the entire restaurant…



Bells will ring, ting-a-ling-a ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling

And you'll sing, "Vita bella."

Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay

Like a gay tarantella



The last line caught Tara in the midst of a swallow of wine, which she coughed up violently. Willow pounded her on the back. "Careful with that stuff!" she said, trying not to laugh and only partly succeeding. Her eyes watering furiously, Tara nodded while trying to get her breath back.



When you walk in a dream but you know you're not

Dreaming Signore

Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli

That's amore!



Their big finish brought Luigi and Captain Murdock a solid ovation from all patrons. Luigi smiled and bowed; Murdock waved and said, "Thank you, thank you; I'll be here all month…try the veal, it's terrific!" More laughter and applause wafted over as he sat back down.



Willow had gotten Tara a napkin or two to dry her eyes and cough discreetly. She turned to Murdock admiringly. "Captain, you are, like, amazing, getting up in front of people, well, I guess, when you're a captain, you do that all the time, but still…" She shrugged.



Murdock smiled back at her. "I used up all my blushes before you were born." At Willow's amazed expression, he amended, rather hastily, "So to speak."



Dessert was tiramisu, previously selected by the captain. Willow and Tara both found out that it went with the wine exceptionally well; by the time they had finished their desserts, neither was feeling any pain.



In fact, Willow was having a little trouble sitting upright. "Did the gravity suddenly get turned up?" she wondered aloud.



Devereux chuckled. "It seems our new science officer is a little snoggered."



"Uh huh," Murdock answered. "Which reminds me…the reason we are all here tonight." He picked up his much-depleted wineglass. "The U.S.S. Hannibal has been extremely fortunate to have two new additionals to our crew. We can only hope that fortune is returned upon them." The captain raised his glass to the two young women. "Success and happiness, to you both."



"Cheers." "Happiness." "To the pure life!" "Aim se t!errata te vohts votsla" "G'HRRrrHrrar" "May your decimals never drop." "Gelfa, that's so sweet…"



Tara tried to clink her glass against some of the others' with only partial success. Willow didn't even try, settling for waving her glass in various directions. She then leaned over towards Tara, and whispered conspiratorially, "I think I'm a little drunk."



Tara nodded. "Well, I knew one of us was," she whispered back. "I don't know whether I'm glad it's not me or sad that it's you. I-I don't know if I said anything that made sense just now."



"Not to worry," Willow whispered, trying not to giggle. "You didn't."



Devereux looked over at the two of them whispering together, then back at Murdock. "You're right…they're about two-and-a-half sheets to the solar wind. I blame myself."



"So do I. Well, I think we need to send them off to bed—"



"Th-that's right!" Tara suddenly blurted out, a little too loudly. "I-I mean, excuse me, Captain…"



"Oh, and Commander," Willow added with a nod in Faraday's general direction (although her targeting scanners were way off-line) "Commanders, um, Doctor, uh…"



"Never mind, Lieutenant, you're covered," Murdock said. "Why don't you head off to your quarters? Lieutenant Maclay…"



"I-I-I think I should escort W-Willow to her quarters, shir…sir."



Thelvran, looking a little under the weather himself after two carafes of "half-and-half," blearily asked, "Would you like a security escort?"



"Um, no," Tara said, getting up from her chair, none too steadily, and somehow managing to guide Willow to her feet. "I think I can take good care of Willow from here. 'Night, everybody. Thanks for dinner, Captain." She tilted her head down, then looked out with upturned eyes. Murdock was struck by how attractive this made her look.



The two lieutenants staggered off, managing to exit the restaurant without bumping into any people, tables or walls.



Murdock watched them go with an almost paternal concern. Her turned back to the rest of the table with a smile. "Well, on that note, I declare this dinner adjourned."

_________________



"Honey, in case you didn't hear me the first six thousand times: no more teleportation spells."

[Grimlock72]

Damn, now I'm all hungry...



So Murdoch isn't only a smart captain he can also sing... He has quiete a history doesn't he ? Thats to be expected somewhat from a human his age but still.. he has had his share of grieve. I agree with his tactical decision btw. , of course none of the desk-captains did... figures.



I can now almost remember all of the crew by name, good thing that Indeed I probably don't want to know what Govarr's diner looked like, heh. And the 150- strains food was fun too, exactly measured of course.



Maybe Murdoch and Devareux just care about their staff and want both Willow and Tara to be happy ? Nothing more needs to be behind their relief at Willow and Tara sorta making up.



I wonder if they'll reach their rooms at all though, both being drunk and such Would look rather stupid to be found by security sleeping in one of the corridors, heh. Funny to read them both being like that



Grimmy

"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

[dekalog]

JUst caught on to this - it is sooo good. You managed to bring what I loved about Star Trek into this - plus Willow, Tara very good. Now the suspenseful waiting begins - will they make it back to their respective rooms, or to a room? Inquiring minds want to know.

[SilverWingedNemesis]

*giggles*



that was good. But I SO need more now!!





Thanks for another wonderful update!



~NICK~

[xita]

Captain, such a generous helping of your fic today. That was kind of very slice of life, I really enjoyed that, plus yes I am hungry now as well. I am curious there at the interest in those 2 getting along, and I love the way Tara insisted on taking Willow back herself hee. Also curious about the relationship between the captain DaKar.

If I had to live my life again, I'd make the same mistakes, only sooner.

Tallulah Bankhead

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



Wine and W/T, how will this mix? And I think it's time to break out my old Dean Martin CD. You know, for some reason Sinatra and W/T seem to go together in what passes for my mind.





Thank you CaptMurdock.





Jixer

[AntigoneUnbound]

Hey Cap'n--I was so glad to see an update from you! I enjoy this fic immensely. One of the things you seem to do very nicely is to use the idea of aliens (relative to humans) as commentators on human customs and predilections. The questions asked at dinner re: apologies, e.g., was a wonderful display of that.



You also give us wonderful description: I could see each of the figures and practically taste the food. In addition, you paint the ambience very nicely--I'm thinking here of the shifts throughout the meal.



Nice work! Looking forward to more.



Mary

[WebWarlock]

Captain!



Great update. Loved the little reference to Trek. Wolf 359, the Chateau Picard '51 (none of that Sythnoholic swill). Great.



Yeah Willow and Tara were wonderful. I love seeing them in this new world. Plus it is so nice that people from the Trek universe want them to be together and happy. Murdock has a lot of empathy for these two.



It is interesting to see Willow now in the "outsider" role. This is Tara's time, while not yet her ship, she does know what is going on. She might have even been at Starfleet Academy when the battle of Wolf 359 was going on.



We knew Willow would ask about the Betazoid weddings, but I can just imagine the look on her face when she saw that one in the database. I bet Tara looked great in her dress uniform though. Thar is before bowing before tradition.



The nods to Trek history are nice (the Sartoga and Melbourn at Wolf 359), but so are the ones to Willow and Tara's history (Yummy face).



Very much looking forward to the next part.



Warlock

-----

Web Warlock

The Other Side,
home of Liber Mysterium: The Netbook of Witches and Warlocks

"But nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight --
Got to kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight" - Lovers In A Dangerous Time, Bruce Cockburn

[Magrat70]

just caugh up with this and what can I say Cap't it's superb, you have gave so much depth to the other characters that you can't help but care for them. As for the drunk Willow and tara what will they get up to

These five words in my head scream "are we having fun yet?"



Chad Kroeger

[justin]

This is a great story.



What could be better than a story mixing Buffy and Trek (Well I guess a BtVS - Babylon 5 crossover would be nice)



As other people have said it's great how well Willow and Tara fit into the Trek universe. I'm not even missing the fact that none of the none of the other BtVS characters are in it.

I understand, you should be with the person you l-love


I am

[hermitstull]

Great to see an update!



Again, you've done such a good job of mixing Buffy and Trek without losing any of the uniqueness of either series. (And I loved the shout out to Trek fans like Web Warlock mentioned.)



And I think it's cute how much the senior officers want to see Tara and Willow get together, even though the girls seem oblivious to their efforts.



I look forward to the next installment-

hermitstull

"I was feared and worshiped across the mortal globe. At now I'm stuck at Sunnydale High. Mortal. Child. And I'm failing Math." Anya in Dopplegangland

[Penrose Orleans]

As a die-hard Trek geek (wow, that looks even worse than it sounds!), I think your fic is quite nifty! In fact, I think it's so nifty that I want to tell you that I love the fic, and that you shouldn't change anything! Great character choice making Tara part Betazoid- she always did seem to be an empath (as I'm sure has been said 200 times already...) Anyway, yay for Star Trek and yay for this fic! -Nora

"Fear prophets...and those prepared to die for the truth, for as a rule they make many others die with them, often before them, at times instead of them." -Umberto Eco

[CaptMurdock]

Grimlock72

Quote:

---

Damn, now I'm all hungry...

---

Good – means I did it right

Quote:

---

quiete [sic] a history

---

you don’t know the half of it. As for “…a human his age…” what exactly are you implying?

Quote:

---

I can now almost remember all of the crew by name, good thing that

---

Funny you should say that – Mrs. CaptMurdock suggested I post on here a “Dramatis Personae” – basically, a character list. If enough of you feel the need, I will probably do that.

Quote:

---

Maybe Murdoch and Devareux just care about their staff and want both Willow and Tara to be happy ? Nothing more needs to be behind their relief at Willow and Tara sorta making up.

---

Oh, relax, they don’t have any dark ulterior motives.

Quote:

---

I wonder if they'll reach their rooms at all though, both being drunk and such Would look rather stupid to be found by security sleeping in one of the corridors, heh. Funny to read them both being like that

---

Nah. I think they’ll manage to find their way. Maybe not where they originally intended…





dekalog

Quote:

---

JUst caught on to this - it is sooo good. You managed to bring what I loved about Star Trek into this - plus Willow, Tara very good. Now the suspenseful waiting begins - will they make it back to their respective rooms, or to a room? Inquiring minds want to know.

---

Well, keep reading, babe.





xita

Quote:

---

Captain, such a generous helping of your fic today. That was kind of very slice of life, I really enjoyed that, plus yes I am hungry now as well. I am curious there at the interest in those 2 getting along, and I love the way Tara insisted on taking Willow back herself hee. Also curious about the relationship between the captain [and] DaKar.

---

Well, they do go back aways…just how far, well, that’s a secret. Heh.



jixer

Quote:

---

Wine and W/T, how will this mix? And I think it's time to break out my old Dean Martin CD. You know, for some reason Sinatra and W/T seem to go together in what passes for my mind.

---

I’ve never been much of a Rat Packer myself (boy, that sounds like a homophobic slur of some kind, doesn’t it? ) but for some reason that song just does it for me. And of course, that song does have a connection to Amber, albeit an indirect one. Anyone care to take a guess? A Mighty Marvel No-Prize to the first correct answer.



AntigoneUnbound

Quote:

---

Hey Cap'n--I was so glad to see an update from you! I enjoy this fic immensely. One of the things you seem to do very nicely is to use the idea of aliens (relative to humans) as commentators on human customs and predilections. The questions asked at dinner re: apologies, e.g., was a wonderful display of that.

---

Gene Roddenberry, the Great Bird of the Galaxy himself and Star Trek’s creator, always had that in mind when he created the show, and to be able the tell the kinds of stories that you just could not get onto 1960s television. At its worst, Trek (and, when you think about it, SF/fantasy in general) is mere escapism (not that there’s anything wrong with that…); but at its best, it gives a alternate world that functions as a way to contemplate this one, the so-called real world.





WebWarlock

Quote:

---

Great update. Loved the little reference to Trek. Wolf 359, the Chateau Picard '51 (none of that Sythnoholic swill). Great.

---

Such a bountiful background to draw upon.

Quote:

---

It is interesting to see Willow now in the "outsider" role. This is Tara's time, while not yet her ship, she does know what is going on. She might have even been at Starfleet Academy when the battle of Wolf 359 was going on.

---

I imagine she was. The dates are correct. Be interesting to see Tara in a cadet uniform (they’re so cute!) responding to the planetary alert.

Quote:

---

We knew Willow would ask about the Betazoid weddings, but I can just imagine the look on her face when she saw that one in the database. I bet Tara looked great in her dress uniform though. Thar is before bowing before tradition.

---

Tradition…and 80 degree (F) / 25 degree (Celsius) heat, with 75% humidity. Those dress uniforms are stuffy...



Magrat70

Quote:

---

just caugh up with this and what can I say Cap't it's superb, you have gave so much depth to the other characters that you can't help but care for them. As for the drunk Willow and tara what will they get up to

---

Oh, probably to no good Most of these other characters are ones that have been very dear to me for a long time, so I “can’t help but care for them.” But, thank you.



justin

Quote:

---

What could be better than a story mixing Buffy and Trek (Well I guess a BtVS - Babylon 5 crossover would be nice)

---

Frankly, as much as I love B5, Joe Straczynski set up the B5 universe a little too rigidly. This is evidently that his attempts at sequel series seems to be ‘adding water to a concept and calling it milk.’ Besides, I’d have to make them both human, unless you want to see them bald (Centauri) bald with a bone crest (Minbari) or with reeeaaally bad skin (Narn!)

Quote:

---

As other people have said it's great how well Willow and Tara fit into the Trek universe. I'm not even missing the fact that none of the none of the other BtVS characters are in it.

---

I think you missed a chapter or two, ‘cause you’re forgetting Faith, Warren and Jonathon. I know, not what you meant. Also, I am thinking of introducing another favorite character of mine as a member of the Hannibal crew. I’ll let ya know…



To all of the above, plus those that I did not mention specifically, thank you for the wonderful comments. Always helps to have an appreciate audience. I will start working on Chapter 6 pretty soon.

[Rane018]

AHHH!!!! thank you for such a long update, capt! that was so much fun, dinner was great but a sad capt's life story. still dont get all the tech speak but i'm loving this fic like downy soft bundles! tara and will tipsy or drunk i'm sure will either lead to much kitteny fun or plain ole zonking out (at elast let them wake up together). lol

"We're forgetting about the troll.
Let's pay attention to the troll." Tara, Triangle

*never attribute to malice what can be explained by incompetence*

[justin]

Quote:

---

Besides, I’d have to make them both human, unless you want to see them bald (Centauri) bald with a bone crest (Minbari) or with reeeaaally bad skin (Narn!)

---

What exactly would be wrong with having either Willow or Tara being a Pakmara?

Quote:

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I think you missed a chapter or two, ‘cause you’re forgetting Faith, Warren and Jonathon. I know, not what you meant.

---

I was refferring to the way that you've plucked Willow and Tara from their native habitat (Sunnydale) and transplanted them into an alien enviroment (Trek) without them seeming at all out of place. You're not constantly thinking where's Sunnydale, or where's Giles or Anya or whoever.



I had read the chapter with Faith, Jonathon and he who shall not be named but wasn't thinking about them since so far they haven't been in it very much.



I'm very much looking forward to the next update.

I understand, you should be with the person you l-love


I am

Edited by: justin at: 1/16/03 1:24:10 pm

[WebWarlock]

Wow, Justin is right.



You have, excuse the metaphor, stripped this down to it's basic elements and replanted Willow and Tara into the more fertile ground of Trek.



It is amazing how much something can grow if you give it a little care and attention.



Friday nights are Trek nights here and my son loves them. We avoid the violent ones and his favorite is "Woof" (Worf). But sometimes, I can almost see Willow and Tara, in their blue duty uniforms walking hand in hand as they head to their respective stations. A quick kiss before getting into the turbo lift. Or maybe in some dark corner of the rec lounge, sharing a some secret with a laugh.

Maybe even walking the prominade on DS9, Tara warning Willow about Ferengie and under no circumstance should she respond to any requests for "oomax".



This is really fun. I am so glad this is here.



If this is Willow and Tara's future then I know it is safe in your hands.



Warlock

-----

Web Warlock

The Other Side,
home of Liber Mysterium: The Netbook of Witches and Warlocks

"Rock journalism is people who can't write interviewing people who can't talk for people who can't read." - Frank Zappa

[CaptMurdock]

Quote:

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Originally posted by jixer on the Miss">pub106.ezboard.com/ftheki...p=39">Miss Tara Maclay, Citizen of the Terran Empire thread: -->

I'm still not sure what the connection is between 'That's Amore' and Amber. I'm wondering if it has to do with 'Chance', but that's just a guess!

---

Buzz! Thank you for playing! Actually, I can't say that that answer is wrong, as I have never seen Chance, but that is not the answer I was thinking of.



I will narrow the search down, and tell you it has to do with one of Amber's movies. C'mon, kitties, don't let me down!

[TareBearRS]

Really glad to see dinner went well, it's sad that the mood dropped somewhat by the story about the Borg, but i'm glad Tara and Willow are talking again.



O my, a slightly drunk Willow and Tara waling to their rooms... what will that bring...? (i say looking hopefully)



R.

[CaptMurdock]

...I'm still alive, and I will be working on the next part soon.



I was working on Chapter 6, during the lulls in my temp assignment (and there were many lulls -- not the most exciting job I've ever had). However, not only has the temp job ended, but the disk that I had saved the text that I had worked out turned out to be corrupted, so I can't access the file. I have to write several pages all over again!



Ah, well. I'm looking for a permanent job (as welll as keeping available for new temp assignments) but I 'll try to get the next part done ASAP. Thanks to all of you for your patience. Love ya.

_________________



"Honey, in case you didn't hear me the first six thousand times: no more teleportation spells."

[Kalita]

Oh, the horrific bane of the corrupted floppy. I feel for you there, that's for sure.



I patiently await the next part's arrival!

"...not many people understood the karmic value of grilled cheese."

-Tara, Blue Athame's Angels and Goddesses

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



A corrupted disc, the true horror of our age



A useless weeping

The search results are on screen

"my novel: not found"



Good luck on the writing and the job search Capt!



Jixer

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



Sorry about this-it ended up being a double post. My next effort is going to be about servers!



Jixer

Edited by: jixer at: 2/4/03 11:42:30 am

[TareBearRS]

Good luck Capt. Hope all works out soon.



R.

[mollyig]

Well, the informal setting seems to have helped our girls relax somewhat, or get snoggered as Devereux described it.



Looking forward to the next instalment.

I could paint you in the dark, 'cause I've studied you with hunger like a work of art
Indigo Girls