“Grrrrowl!” The Klingon’s yellow teeth glimmered and glistened underneath the sunlight of Risa as Worf and his new bride lay on the beach, enjoying their honeymoon.

“I love it when you growl at me, Worf,” the Klingon female growled back. For the first time in his life, Worf was completely content. Of course he would have to rejoin Enterprise in a couple weeks, but for now there was nothing to do but enjoy the sights and sounds of Risa. Well, sights anyway – the visitors and inhabitants of Risa had pretty much cleared out after that first night at the hotel. Klingon mating rituals being what they are, most of the others were either too annoyed or too frightened to remain as guests. The bill for the broken furniture alone would be expensive…but it was definitely worth it for that first night of Klingon passion with his new mate.

“Rub some of this lotion on my back, will you?” The Klingon female held the open bottle of lotion directly under Worf’s nose. The scent was invigorating and intoxicating – it was the scent of Targ – Worf’s favorite.

“With pleasure,” replied the Klingon as he turned over on his side and massaged the oil into his wife’s back. She let out a low growl of pleasure, followed immediately by a yowl of pain.

“Hey, that hurts! Watch what you’re doing, you big baboon!”

“Sorry, dear.”

Yes, the two of them were going to have a happy life together.

Back on the bridge of the Enterprise, repairs being complete to Andromeda and close to completion on the Enterprise, it was almost time for the two crews to say their final goodbyes. Dylan and Picard watched as their two crews hurried about, busily performing their work in cooperation with one another. Every now and again one of the captains would step aside to let one of the workers pass, only slightly annoyed that their officer’s conversation had been so brusquely interrupted by an inferior officer or crewman while they performed the tasks at hand. Being the captains and professionals that they were, however, both Dylan and Jean Luc were trained for such inconveniences.

Dylan Hunt, still sporting the long hair but now in his officer’s uniform, attempted to make small talk with the almost hairless captain of the Enterprise.

“So, you’ll be back in the Federation system soon, then.” Picard nodded.

Despite Dylan’s best High Guard façade, all he really wanted to do at this time was to be alone with Beka Valentine, his hot and sexy first officer. After all…Dylan the Paradined Captain had needs, and despite his best efforts at conversation, the aging-yet-handsome-yet-non-Paradined captain Picard just wasn’t meeting them at this point in time.

“Just as you will be back in Commonwealth space,” answered Picard with the most polite Federation smile he could muster. Had one looked more closely, however, the more conscientious onlooker would have noticed Captain Picard’s jaw muscles clenched in malicious tension.

‘What an self-absorbed idealistic airhead,’ thought Picard to himself. ‘Thousands of years into my future, and this is the best the human race has to offer. No wonder Museveni engineered the Nietzschean race to compensate.’

As Jean Luc stood there with his tensed smile, he pondered the events that had taken place over the course of the last few days. Picard had had enough of this system, these people, and Q. All he wanted at this point in time was to be alone in his quarters, curled up with a good book, some soothing music, and a cup of hot Earl Grey tea. Maybe he would invite Dr. Beverly Crusher to join him. After all, even the Captain of the Enterprise had needs, and the long-haired long-winded Dylan Hunt certainly wasn’t meeting them at this point in time.

Both captains stood there in awkward silence, tolerating each other with their clenched jaws and forced smiles. Similar to the time on the trapeze when Dylan had saved Beka from certain death, this time it was Valentine that came to his (not to mention Picard’s) rescue.

“Repairs are complete, and we’re ready to leave,” she stated happily.

“That’s great, Beka!” answered Dylan in a most over-exuberant fashion.

“Okay…DYLAN,” answered Dylan’s first officer, somewhat perturbed that the captain had chosen to call her by her first name in front of Captain Picard, on his ship and in front of his crew. Dylan, on the other hand, being caught up in his own thoughts and oblivious to Beka’s sarcasm, watched with extreme interest as his perky first officer swaggered away from him in an extremely sexy manner.

‘Beka is even more chipper than usual,’ thought Hunt to himself. ‘And why shouldn’t she be? After all, she is going to be alone with me soon – and what woman in her right mind could be sad with such an event on her horizon?’ As Dylan remembered (somewhat bitterly) how Riker had almost stolen that opportunity from him, the Paradined captain decided that this was a ripe moment in time to get a jab in at Picard’s ‘number one’ – who, by the way, was conspicuously absent from the bridge.

“Where is your first officer…um, what was his name?” Dylan asked with a slight smirk as he placed his index finger on his chin in mock thoughtfulness.

“Riker. William T. Riker,” answered Picard, clenching his jaws even further to the point that his neck muscles were beginning to tense – all the while maintaining his Federation officer’s smile. “After the ordeal with Q, he has come down with a bit of a cold and has therefore decided to stay in his quarters for the duration of these repairs. I hope you understand.”

“Indeed, I do,” replied Hunt with another smirk.

‘Yeah right’, thought Dylan to himself. ‘We all know the real reason Mr. Riker couldn’t come out of his room. He’s pouting because I got the girl and he didn’t.’

Finally, the repairs were completed. As Dylan and his crew beamed back over to the Andromeda and went to slipstream, Picard breathed a sigh of relief.

“At last…I finally got rid of that airheaded, idealistic, self-absorbed Commonwealth pinhead.”

“Indeed.” The sexy female voice startled Picard greatly, and he wheeled around to see Doyle, accompanied his android officer, Lt. Commander Data. Picard was slightly confused, incensed, and befuddled.

“Doyle, what on earth are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on Andromeda?”

Doyle giggled. “Yes, but with Dylan’s ship at full capacity and Rommie back on board and operating, there was really nothing left for me to do there. Besides, Data and I have really gotten to know each other these past few days. Can I stay…please?” Doyle’s voice cooed like a kitten, and Picard swallowed hard as he looked into the eyes of the sexy buxom blonde.

“But…but it’s against the Prime Directive,” protested Picard, somewhat stammering. He then turned to Data. “Data, you knew better than this!”

“But Captain…” pleaded his android officer.

“DATA!!” shouted Picard. What was he going to do now? The Federation council would never believe this one.

Another voice sounded behind them – this one male and masculine.

“It’s too late now…they’ve already gone.” Somewhere in the middle of the conversation between the three, Riker had appeared – and he was intently eyeing Doyle with extreme interest and slight longing. Picard, being the experienced officer he was, picked up on Riker’s desire. At the same time, he sensed from Data something he was still as of yet unaccustomed to seeing – jealousy. Remembering the superhuman strength of his golden-eyed android officer, Picard decided it was time to make a decision – and quick. And besides, he was too tired to argue.

“Oh, all right – you can stay,” replied an exasperated Picard. “But I will have to assign you your own quarters.”

“Really?? My own quarters?” Doyle fluttered her eyelashes flirtingly at Picard. Riker, not to be outdone by his captain, spoke up in favor of other options.

“She can stay with me,” suggested Picard’s first officer. Data swiftly turned to face Riker, his golden eyes flashing in a rage. William T. Riker was oblivious, however, being otherwise occupied by the pink-suited Doyle – well, certain features of her anyway. After a short but awkward pause, it was Captain Picard that intervened.

“No – her own quarters, and that’s my final decision. Dismissed.”

“Pumped up Paradine half-god. Just who does he think he is?” Iolaus had been looking forward to reuniting with his old buddy for over four years, and now that he had all he could think of was punching him in his smug Paradine face.

The bartender filled his mug with ale. “You know what they say, Iolaus – power corrupts, and…”

“…and absolute power corrupts absolutely, yes I know!” Iolaus answered hastily as he drank the ale down quickly, not even coming up for air.

“I think you’ve had enough,” stated the bartender as he pulled the mug out of Iolaus’ hand.

“I’ll be the judge of that, Sembler,” Iolaus slurred as he fell backwards off of the barstool and onto the floor.

“Ouch…his bum’s going to hurt in the morning,” replied one of the bar patrons. “You know, he needs to get home soon. The ghost of Rambamajam comes out at night, you know!”

From a darkened corner of the bar two female-silhouetted figures emerged. One was tall and lean, the other smaller and shorter in stature.

“Come on, Gabrielle…let’s carry him home.”

“Aaaaagh…get away from me!”

Round and round the Magog clowns circled Q’s cage, as the insane circus music surrounded him on every side. Beyond them, the spectators jeered, sneered, and cheered them on.

“I’ll get out of this cage if it’s the last thing I do. And when that happens, you’ll be sorry you ever messed with me, you little tart!” snarled Q.

Q had had a lot of time to think about how he was going to get his sinister vengeance on the lady in red.

“How dare she turn me down for that bonebladed, long-haired, tight-trousered Nietzschean named Teleschmuckus Rhade,” Q lamented bitterly. “I had her in the palm of my hands, and I let her slip away. But the next time I see you, my pet…” Q’s hands tightened into fists as he thought about how it was going to feel to squeeze her lovely neck until the life ebbed slowly from her gorgeous curvaceous body. That was what had kept him going all of these months – vengeance.

Q screamed again as one of the clowns spit his venom onto his shirt, in an apparent attempt to “mark” him for reproduction.

“Oh no you did NOT just do that,” exclaimed Q indignantly, one hand on his hip. It was then that the whip sounded, and the Magog clown fell in line. The new circus master was disturbing, to say the least. Clad in black leather and often accompanied by two ‘men’ he led around on leashes, the circus ringleader had been sequestered from the Seefran system for this very purpose. He was mean, he was large, and he was ugly…but at least he kept Q from becoming home to Magog spawn. The whip sounded again as the Magog clowns continued their parade around Q’s cage.

“One of these days, Ms. Red…I will have my vengeance. Count on it.”

The center was teeming with activity and people of all sorts. Myriads of booths had been set up displaying various items for sale, ranging from books to swords to candles. The smell of food wafted in the air as the nearby restaurant catered to the various patrons that had wandered by for a bite to eat. Suddenly, a woman’s lovely voice called across the crowded vestibule, sounding like a spring morning.

“You come back here this instant, young man!”

“But Mom, I wanna look at the comic books!”

“Not right now. You’ll get lost and we’ll spend the next four hours trying to find you again!”

“But Mom!”

The woman raised her eyebrow at her son. It was the look he knew too well – the look that said, “enough is enough”. As the little dark-haired boy walked dejectedly back to take his mother’s hand, she couldn’t help but smile to herself as she realized just how much like his father he looked – especially when he pouted like that. She stifled a giggle as he reached out his little bonebladed arm to grab her hand. It was then that a masculine voice spoke softly behind her – the same voice that still made the hairs on her neck stand on end and her stomach flutter, despite the fact that they had been married for four years.

“It’s okay…I’ll take him.”

“Where have you been, dear? And what are you hiding behind your back?”

“Nothing.” Rhade gave her a mischievous grin, turning away every time she tried to strain to see what he was holding, his hands clasped behind him.

“Come on…show me!”

The lady gasped in pleasure as Rhade unclasped his arms from behind him. There, in his right hand, he held one dozen long stemmed red roses. In the left, he held a box of chocolate.

“Happy Anniversary, you sexy thing!” Rhade growled.

“You remembered!” she squealed.

“Of course I did! Do you think I’d dare forget?” Rhade replied with a wink and that killer smile that always made her putty in his hands.

Immediately and without thinking, the lady tried to leap into Rhade’s arms to give him a passionate hug and a kiss. It was then she realized that her current condition would not allow for such behavior, for she was eight months with child. As she looked down at her protruding stomach, all of the sudden her bottom lip pouted out, her chin began to quiver, and her eyes started to fill with tears.

‘Oh no,’ thought Rhade with apprehension. ‘Not this again.’

He had fought in battles with Magog. He had been an Admiral. He had even served with an arrogant and self-absorbed Paradine. But none of that had prepared him for the experience of what Rhade had come to know as a female “mood swing”.

“Do you still think I’m beautiful?” The woman asked as she patted the front of her red dress.

Rhade gulped nervously, not prepared for the question. After all, he had thought the flowers and chocolate would be enough. He had not yet rehearsed an appropriate answer.

‘When am I going to learn that it’s never enough?’ thought the handsome Nietzschean with a sigh. ‘Think, Rhade.’ Taking a deep breath and regaining his composure, Rhade gave his wife the most gorgeous smile and wink he could muster on such short notice.

“You look even more beautiful now than before, my dear,” he cooed as he kissed his wife gently on the cheek.

“You’re just saying that.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are t…” The lady in red’s words were interrupted as her husband grabbed her passionately and kissed her. After all, if there was anything four years of marriage had taught him, it was that a well-timed and well-placed kiss could shut almost any woman up.

“Ewwww, do you two have to do that in public?” The two of them were so occupied with their brief yet public moment of passion, they had almost forgotten about the little boy standing next to them, his lip curled in disgust. As the child pulled on Rhade’s boneblades in an attempt to lead him to the comic book stand, both mom and dad giggled, rather embarrassedly.

“Okay, little one…off we go!” Rhade lifted his son onto his shoulders and took off towards the desired destination, pausing long enough to turn around and mouth ‘I love you’ to his ladylove. She returned the favor by blowing a kiss at the both of them. Rhade caught the imaginary kiss with a free hand, whilst the little boy ducked from the onslaught. The resultant act made his father almost drop him. The mother gasped, and then regained her composure as Rhade’s muscular arm caught his son before he could fall.

“Those two are going to be the death of me yet, if they don’t kill themselves first,” the lady in red muttered while shaking her head.

Turning back around, it was then that the she noticed something peculiar yet familiar. From across the room opposite of where Rhade had taken their son, she saw a crowd of people gathered around a table. It was not the sights that caught her attention, however, but the sound of a familiar voice speaking.

‘That can’t be my hunny bunny,’ she thought to herself. ‘But the resemblance is uncanny.’ Curious to see whom the voice belonged to, the lady waddled over and stood in the midst of the crowd of people. As she caught a glimpse of the source of the voice, she gasped.

“I don’t believe it!” exclaimed the woman, her jaw dropped in amazement and utter shock. There, sitting at the table before her, was the spitting image of her husband - sans the blades. Surrounding him were several people, mostly female. All of them were talking, giggling, joking, and laughing.

‘He looks like Rhade, and he sounds like Rhade…but that’s as far as it goes, I’m afraid,’ thought lady red as she looked at the scene transpiring before her. After a while, she began to giggle as she realized what this crowd of people – mostly female – were subjecting him to.

‘Poor guy,’ thought the lady with a smile. ‘You’d never catch my husband doing something like that. But it is kinda cute…in a rather disturbing way.’ It was then that the man at the table spotted her and smiled.

“Congratulations! When’s the baby due?” Hearing this man’s voice, so like her husband’s voice yet so different…to see him, so like her husband yet not (Rhade wouldn’t be caught dead in a hat like that)…was rather unnerving. Yet the stranger sitting at the table seemed so pleasant and sweet, and he put her at ease.

“In about a month, but to be honest I think it could be any day,” answered lady Red.

“Is this one your first?” asked the man.

“No, we have a son. He’s somewhere around here with his father.”

“Don’t you love being a parent?” It was then that the two of them began talking about parenting, children, diapers, and the like. Before she knew it, about ½ hour had passed. Despite this man’s physical similarity with her husband, he was so much different than her husband. She had yet been unable to even keep Rhade in the same room while she was changing a diaper, much less get him to do it himself. Though she loved her husband greatly, it was a pleasant change to be able to talk about such things with a member of the male gender. Having him look so much like Rhade didn’t hurt, either. It was the next best thing to talking to Telemachus himself.

“Hey, I think it just kicked!” the lady exclaimed joyously.

“Cool! Perhaps the infant would be interested in this.” It was then that the man at the table handed her the object he had been holding…a rather large sock monkey.

“Oh, I’m sure she would. Thank you!”

“You’re quite welcome. But I’m curious…what makes you think it’s a she?” asked the man sitting at the table.

“Because we had our DNA tested,” answered Rhade, who had since come up behind them.

Telemachus had finished with their son at the comic book stand some time ago. Since then, he had been intently and intensely watching his wife communing with the stranger at the table. Rhade was accustomed to lady red socializing with all sorts of people and species, both male and female, and normally he was secure enough in his superior Nietzschean manhood to not be threatened by it. Nevertheless, this particular encounter made his boneblades flex and his insides shudder with an almost uncontrollable rage. What was it about this man – this HUMAN man- that Rhade found so intimidating? Obviously this stranger was genetically inferior – and though the resemblance was uncanny, yet that was as far as it went.

Becoming somewhat envious at the amount of time they were taking, Telemachus decided to join them. As he put his arm around his red-clad wife, she could swear she heard a low guttural growl come from deep within him. As the two men eyed each other warily and the spectators – mostly female - stood there with their jaws dropped in awe and surprise, Rhade whispered in his wife’s ear.

“He looks like me.” Rhade growled again.

“I know. It’s uncanny, isn’t it?” she answered in a whisper.

“What is that?” Rhade asked, pointing at the sock animal in his lady’s arms.

“It’s a present for the baby.”

“He’s giving you presents?” Rhade growled once again, even more jealously.

“Relax, schnookums…he’s married with kids.”

“Well, if he were Nietzschean it wouldn’t matter.”

“But he isn’t, dear. See the arms? No boneblades.”

“Still…”

“It’s okay, Rhade. Let’s go home.”

As the three of them walked out of the convention hall, the man at the table waved goodbye to them. As they were almost out the door, he once again stopped signing pictures long enough to take another look at the lady in red, her muscular bonebladed husband, and their adorable bonebladed son.

“This has got to be the weirdest experience I’ve ever had. Other than having to hold that sock monkey.”

THE END