4731J-3 Ch. 06

If only she'd had her medical tricorder!

As much as she hated 4731J-3, Dr. Crusher's scientific mind was deeply intrigued at its biological marvels. But her lack of a tricorder and other proper equipment with which to study these extremely important discoveries was a mere side issue while she lacked the intellect to use such aids.

And then, the sudden image of the Mongo who'd ignorantly vaporized himself was like a punch to her stomach. The fact of its reality seemed so surreal, more like an imagined warning of the dangers regarding allowing savages to play with phasers than something she'd actually seen happening with her own eyes and her own phaser. Almost as stunning was her question of whether or not she should include the event in her report. She'd never been one for that sort of thing, lying on reports and covering up her mistakes, but this was a mistake that could well ruin her. Could ruin her. With the lack of any other witnesses to the event, if she didn't ever open her mouth about it, nobody would ever be the wiser.

But could she do this? Could she compromise her personal honour as a Starfleet Officer in order to save herself whatever fallout would come of including the incident in her report? What would Jean Luc think?

With a frowning sigh, Crusher banished these thoughts, regarding the now peaceful faces of her crewmates. She was also tired and she knew sleep would help her body, that a lot of her pain would be gone by the time she awoke again to deal with Councillor Troi's eventual futanari discovery. Closing her eyes, she was surprised at how quickly her mind lulled until a sudden thought had them open again.

Hadn't there been other away team members?

With a start, she remembered T'vor, the... Lieutenant? Yes, Lt. T'vor, who had gone to... what?"

"Dammit, Beverly, think!" she hissed.

Hadn't she gone to find food? No, their food supply was there at the settlement, the delicious and nutritious cum of the Mongos. No, she'd gone to... set the emergency beacon.

"Yes!" she hissed again in personal triumph, also suddenly remembering that it had been a while since their last communications.

Rising from the edge of Torgo'li's bed, she walked to the far corner of the gronquila to touch the com badge affixed to her now crotchless panties. Its operational tone was almost relaxing, a familiar element from a more predictable reality than the one she'd been recently experiencing.

"Crusher to T'vor?"

After a brief pause, "T'vor here. What is your current status?"

"Not good."

"Please explain, Doctor."

" ... We've just been... gang raped. The others are resting now. None of us seem to have suffered any serious personal injuries, and I expect we'll be fine by morning, but..."

"Yes?"

"Lieutenant, something... something unparalleled is happening to Councillor Troi. I'm becoming more and more concerned about our exposure to the plasmic mist and our consumption of Mongo cum."

"Can you be more specific regarding Councillor Troi?" T'vor asked.

"She's... mutating. It's probably best that you see it for yourself. What's your condition?"

"I am fine, Doctor. I have encountered no difficulties and the emergency beacon is set and functioning within normal parameters. Currently, I am resting for the night. Barring any unforeseen delays, I will arrive at the settlement by early tomorrow afternoon."

"That's great news," Beverly replied, not knowing whether she was happier about the beacon or the return of the competent Vulcan lieutenant to lift the heavy burden of command from her shoulders.

After a few more words were exchanged, their communication was ended. Beverly even smiled with the thought of T'vor's return, though she feared how short a time might be required for her to once again forget all about the Lieutenant and her mission. For the moment, she was thankful the capable Vulcan was at least there on the planet with them, and especially thankful that Wesley wasn't. At least her son was safe and sound back on the Enterprise.