"A Mid-Summer Night's Dream"
By: Lt. Saavar
Lt. Xayella Tagliesh

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.13 02h30

***

Saavar rolled onto his side and contemplated the stars shining in through the view port of his quarters. The room was dark, only starlight to illuminate the scene. His recent spate of undisciplined chaos deeply disturbed him. He knew now that it was undoubtedly due to the mental link he shared with Xayella Tagliesh. It was a revolting thought for the Vulcan/Romulan officer to face - and even that concept of his identity was becoming more apparent yet troubling. He had always considered himself truly Vulcan. His Romulan nature was becoming apparent as the impact of Tagliesh's mind grew. It was driving him insane with frustration. Where normally he had a bond with his very Vulcan wife, T'Sirra, now he shared it with a very Human female. A woman filled with passions and emotions that were almost impossible to shut out. He sighed and closed his eyes on the room, sleep coming with difficulty as he struggled to meditate.

After a while he climbed out of bed, dressed and headed out. He felt light-headed, walking as if the ship was oddly moving, blurring. He felt so hot...his skin was literally burning and he continually reached out to steady himself.

***

Xayella Tagliesh looked up from her padd as the doorchime played. She smiled expectantly, wondering what Matt was doing visiting her so late. Tossing the device onto her desktop, she rose from her seat and hurried towards the door to greet him. "Come in!"

Bare feet dug hard into the carpet as she stopped abruptly. She jumped back as if avoiding the bright shaft of light falling onto the floor through the open doorway, eluding the imposing dark shadow cut out of it. Xayella continued retreating as the tall, solid figure advanced into her quarters, its steps paced and methodical. "What are you doing here?" she whispered fearfully.

Saavar heard the door hiss closed. He blinked, not fully understanding why he was here. Why had he come here? His thoughts were fuzzy, shifting and blurring, but his skin was still burning with heat and he knew...seeing her standing before him, he knew...it had started.

It was like a brush fire starting in his blood and spreading through his limbs, lava-like the Blood Fever struck with a fierce heat. It gave him strength. He stood tall, the feeling of utter invincibility coursing through his veins as he looked at his life-mate. He could sense the fever pulsing through the bond. As it worked its passion on Saavar it spread its inexorable tendrils into her Human blood.

He felt the stirring, the great passion that was Vulcan the God of Fire - he didn't need to speak now. He just stared at her - lust filling his eyes and his senses. She was his mate - and he needed her to quench the flames - and there was only one way that would happen!

Xayella was in his arms no sooner than the fire had penetrated her. She sought Saavar's lips with a furious passion, while her hands clawed at the zipper of his jacket. Unable to resist the demon that had seized her from within, the one working her limbs, hooking her leg around Saavar's waist, Xayella moaned into the hollow of his mouth and flattened her body against his. Her mind reeled, and her eyes remained wide open as they stared wildly and with a panic into his hungry blue eyes. They looked as possessed as she felt.

He drew her against his hard flesh, ripping the flimsy gauze of her night gown open with one hand. He lifted her, kissing her hard and staggering to the wall where he pinned her. Grasping the material that was like tissue, it was removed in two tearing pulls. His gaze fell on her breasts and his mouth followed, and with her thighs wrapped around his waist he devoured her. She was as hot as he, burning with the intensity of the lust that was Blood Fever.

His jacket was ripped away as his passion coursed through her veins, lending her almost Vulcan strength. His bare chest was well-muscled, ridged and hard, his flesh searing hot against her. The pulsing heat filled them as his voracious appetite sucked greedily at her breasts. His hands roamed her body and he growled almost feral with desire.

Xayella groaned as teeth grazed over the pale flesh of her chest; she dragged her nails across Saavar's back, pulling him closer desperately, but her mind screaming to push him away. She cried out huskily as he emitted a deep rumble and aggressively crushed her against the wall with renewed intensity. There was fear, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness, but her body desired him. Her urges were taking hold and driving her to smother the fire consuming her; she needed to fully sever their bond, but by joining with Saavar, would it only strengthen? Xayella twined her feet to tighten her hold around his waist, then pulled him roughly into her. She arched against the wall as his hips ground into hers, and with a thick moan, she begged him to put an end to the madness afflicting them both.

Her pleas heightened his awareness; he felt the pulse of her blood and the strength gripping him and he stood upright, pulling her against him and kissing her hungrily as he walked her to the bed. He needed to lift her to the edge and height of passion, sate her Human desires as she would sate his. He almost threw her to the bed as he tore away the rest of his uniform, his gaze smouldering as she writhed and waited for him.

He knelt above her, caressing her pale skin with hands that left a trail of fire wherever they touched, and where his hands went so did his hungry lips. She cried out as he found the centre of her passion, holding her, devouring her, savouring her. Saavar knelt and heard her screams and moans as he drove her ever on toward oblivion.

The Vulcan moved across her slight frame, no longer able to keep his need at bay, he finally joined with her, drawing a shuddering breath as they came together.

Her fingers trembled as they dug deeper into his flesh, and her body arched violently against his as if every spike of pleasure brought with it only pain. Her cries seemed to go on forever, and her head lolling wildly against the rocking mattress, denying herself satisfaction, and seeking only punishment for what they were engaging in. Matt was but an echo in her mind, though the guilt was strong; the insatiable need, however, was far more powerful. Her voice soared as agony mingled with ecstasy radiated from her center; each of Saavar's thrusts was a jolt of physical anguish, but her inner desire was being fed by it. She found the pain deliciously satisfying.

He screamed her name as he drove onward and the bond between them ignited in a blaze of agonizing, searing energy of release....

Vision consumed by an explosion of white fire, a cry ripped from her throat, one foreign to her and at once instinctual to the restive creature thrashing about deep within her. "Saavar!"

Xayella choked back a grating moan as she was thrown upright in bed. Her covers had fallen away to reveal the nightgown that had not been torn from her body, though which was now soaked through with perspiration. She searched the darkened room deliriously for Saavar, whimpering at the need that had not been assuaged and which was now spreading an ache throughout her body. The bed shifted slightly, and Xayella quickly looked to the figure beside her, turning onto his side. She was relieved, and tormented that it was not Saavar. As he had once invaded her mind, he was now in her dreams and in her waking thoughts. She would never escape him, or the hunger he had inspired in her.

Matt awoke with a start as Xayella threw herself onto him and kissed him with maddening intensity. Saavar had to be banished from her mind forever, and there was passion that required release, something Matt could provide her temporarily. As she clawed at Matt's bedclothing frantically, guided by the primal fire still burning within her, she cursed Saavar, damning him to suffer restless nights for the remainder of his green-blooded life. It was the least he owed her.

***

Saavar sat upright with her name on his lips...his eyes wide as the raging need yawned before him like a black pit. He was soaked in sweat, almost delirious with pent up frustration and aching, blinding need. A dream...it was all a dream. He gripped his head with anger. The emotions swirling through him now were so intense, he dropped back with a groan of pain. She was in his mind, he could feel her, sense her need and desire and he felt nothing but despair. "Get out of my mind..." he grated through clenched teeth, seething with an inner rage at the defilement of his Vulcan nature and tormented by the aching damning need he had for a Human woman who was his captain's mate.

---

"Unexpected Enlightenment"
by Commander Lyrr Tayla - Executive Officer
and Crewman 1st Class Shyla Lynn Moreau - Astrometrics Technician

Location: Crewman Moreau's Quarters and the Ready Room
Stardate: 57908.13, 16h43

***

"I want you home now, baby girl." Dennis Moreau's salt and pepper hair was slicked with sweat and his somber face was occasionally distorted as the image traveled along the silithium filament through the wormhole and into the Gamma Quadrant.

"Daddy," Shyla said, trying to stay pleasant. "That ain't gonna happen. I'm more than 70,000 light years from Louisiana."

"Only because you didn't say a word about this until it was too late." The elder Moreau was somewhere between tears and red-faced anger. "If you had, I would've had you off that ship in a flash."

"And Starfleet wouldn't have anything to say about it?" Shyla asked, becoming angry in her turn. "Or me? Do you think it'd be nice if I had something to say about my life, Daddy?"

Dennis Moreau took a breath, trying to calm himself. "Shyla, you're sick. You're real sick And a starship on the other side of the galaxy ain't no place for you or a baby."

"It's six months, Daddy," Shyla said with a weary sigh. "Dr. M'lira has been on my case for over a year and Dr. Sefton is completely brilliant. I'll be back with a big belly and three months to go."

"Shyla, you know it might not happen that way." He was coming close to tears. "Your mission there might get extended. You might need to have the baby early. You might get sick. You know as well as I do how risky --"

"Crewman Moreau. Please report to the Ready Room," Lyrr's voice interrupted.

Shyla tapped her communicator. "On my way, sir." She looked back at the screen at the wretched face of Dennis Moreau. "I gotta go, Daddy. They need me."

***

The doorchime signalled Moreau's arrival, and Lyrr sighed heavily to expel her discomfort. This wasn't her place, it was the captain's. But, she owed it to Storm, even if it was a most uncomfortable situation. Moreau had been his girlfriend, and she... Lyrr wasn't deluding herself into thinking she'd been anything more than a springball opponent to Storm. Though, this was the first time she realized she may have desired more. Tamping down her wistful thoughts, Lyrr cleared her throat and summoned the young woman. "Come in, Crewman Moreau."

Shyla stepped inside tentatively, just enough to allow the door to close behind her. She had never been in the Ready Room before and the fact that it was Commander Lyrr and not the Captain didn't make it any easier. "You called for me, sir?" she asked, biting her bottom lip in apprehension.

Lyrr said nothing and gestured to the chair opposite hers. The girl accepted and sat stiffly. Lyrr smiled to ease any frayed nerves, but watching Moreau fidget slightly in her seat, it was obvious she was inept at providing a relaxed atmosphere. "Crewman...how are you?" she began. It seemed the easiest formality to start things off with, but considering recent events, it was more a loaded question.

"I'm fine...sir," Shyla said, a little surprised by the question. Even at Storm's memorial, Lyrr had nothing to say to Moreau and the concern at this juncture was perplexing. "Thank you for asking."

Lyrr nodded. "You've been handling things admirably, Crewman. You show much poise for someone so young. It's impressive."

"Thank you again, sir," Shyla said after a slight hesitation, her composure almost going with the compliment. "It's only on duty, I must admit. The nights are still marathon cryfests for the most part." She regarded Lyrr with a curious look. "But I'm okay if that's what you're wondering. Counselor Scott has helped a lot."

"Don't worry," Lyrr assured her. "This isn't an assessment of your mental health. I just..." Lyrr chuckled, amused by her own nervousness. "It's just that, I spent some time with Ensign Storm, and he was a good man. Considering you were the woman he cared for, I asked if I could be the one to present you with...well..." She smiled as her hand set something down atop the table. It was a square box covered in black velvet. Lyrr cleared her throat and slid it towards the girl. "Congratulations," she said softly.

Shyla reached across the table and she pulled the box to her slowly, biting her bottom lip again. Inside it was an enlisted rank patch for Petty Officer 3rd Class. In a flash, Shyla remembered something Ethan once said to her: You'll be an Ensign before I'm a JG. Hell, you may be a JG before I'm a JG. Petty Officer Third Class was still a long way from Ensign but she still started to cry all the same.

Lyrr's eyes grew wide and she froze, utterly at a loss. There was a Petty Officer in the ready room, weeping, and she had no idea what to do. She sighed and slid out of her seat, knowing she had to do something before her sobs travelled all the way to the bridge. Standing over Moreau now, Lyrr watched her in perplexity, and finally rested a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay," she whispered. "You earned it, Petty Officer Moreau. He'd...he'd be proud of you, I know that much."

"Thank you, sir," Moreau said, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry sir...it just reminded me of something he said once."

Lyrr shrugged lightly. "That happens," she sympathized. "Though...if I may... I do know that it gets easier to deal with after a time. No, you'll never truly forget, but you'll be stronger for it, I know that much."

Shyla sniffed deeply and nodded. Lyrr was clearly uncomfortable and Moreau didn't want to make it any harder than it had to be for the Commander. She truly did appreciate the sentiment.

"Well." Lyrr sighed and removed her hand from Shyla's shoulder to clasp both behind her back. "Congratulations, Petty Officer Moreau. You really do deserve it."

Shyla rose from her seat and turned to face the Commander. She held out her hand and Lyrr shook it. "Thank you again, sir," Shyla said, noticing for the first time that they were the same height. Lyrr had always seemed so much bigger before.

"You can thank Lieutenant Saavar for recommending it," Lyrr told her with another gentle smile. "And it was an honour to bestow it upon you," she added.

"I think I'll go thank him right now," Shyla said, managing a grin and letting Lyrr's hand fall away. "Unless you have something else, sir?"

"Nothing," she replied. "Except to suggest that you go and celebrate." Lyrr raised an eyebrow at the girl and gave her best stern expression. "Shall I make it an order, then?"

"I'd hate to have disobeying a direct order as my first official action as a Petty Officer," Shyla almost laughed. "I'm not quite up for a celebration, sir. But I am pleased and grateful to you and the Captain. Will you thank him for me, please?"

Lyrr nodded. "Of course I will. Now, go on and enjoy your new rank. You'll have to get used to that sort of thing for the rest of your career, I imagine."

"We'll see, sir," Shyla said, nodding politely and making for the door. She stopped Lyrr before she got back around the desk. "Sir?"

Lyrr smiled. "Yes, Petty Officer?"

"Ethan liked you," Shyla said quietly. "Quite a bit. It bothered me a little."

Her smile faded, and Lyrr's immediate reaction was to clear her throat and fold her arms over her chest. "We played springball a couple times," she explained. "That's really all, Shyla. He may have enjoyed my company on a couple occasions, but he truly did care for you. I'm sure of that."

"Oh, I know sir," Shyla said, confidently. "I did use the past tense." Shyla's face grew a bit wistful. "Ethan once told me that if Captain Salinger was the head of the Sulu then you were her heart. He cared for you too, Commander." Shyla smiled. And then she left.

Lyrr was left dumbfounded and staring in disbelief at the closed door. She'd known they shared a bond of some kind, even though she had thought it a tenuous one; but he'd cared, and she hadn't cared for him in return. Lyrr closed her eyes and blindly slumped into her chair. She'd lost more than a crewmember, she'd lost a friend she never knew she had. Things had been taken for granted far too long, with T'Kal, with her foster parents, and now with Storm.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm a fool, and I'm sorry." Lyrr rested her forehead upon arms folded atop her desk and reflected on Shyla's weighty admission. It was time to change - Ethan's death had shown her that much, and ironically of all, it took a naive, young petty officer to make it blatantly clear. Lyrr had never felt more ignorant in her life.

---