Captain's Punishment

Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the USS Enterprise, flagship of Starfleet, stared into space outside the huge window of his ready room; hands clasped firmly behind his back.

"What am I going to do?" he asked the stationary stars outside.

A beep sounded on his communicator, Lieutenant-Commander Worf's voice issuing from it.

"Captain Picard, Admiral Janssen is on the secure channel."

"Shit," Picard visibly cringed, mumbling to himself. Vice-Commandant of Starfleet, Clarisse "Phaser" Janssen was known throughout Starfleet as the most severe officer to ever grace a starship.

"Very well, Mr. Worf," Picard replied with a sigh. "Patch it through."

Seating himself before the comm. screen, took a deep breath and punched the "open channel" button. Admiral Janssen's face appeared. The sixty-plus year-old woman's face reminded Picard of a Klingon Targ. God, but she was ugly. If her frown was any deeper, the cadets at the Academy could practice skiing on it; the crags in her face could be used for mountaineering practice.

"CAPTAIN PICARD!" she bellowed. "Just what in the name of the Four Suns of Samarji happened out there?"

Picard kept his voice level and officious.

"Admiral, I have several people working on that problem as we speak. There are currently one dreadnought, two destroyers, and two space-tugs en route to our position. The first destroyer, I believe it's the Monitor, will arrive in just under an hour. We have a full complement of photon torpedoes until then. I assure you, Admiral, that as soon as I know the answer, you will know the answer."

Her frown decreased slightly.

"Jean-Luc, your crew has done some stupid shit in the past, and you've always backed them one-hundred percent. Your career is hanging by the merest of threads this time. You are ultimately responsible for what happened. If I don't have full and complete answers in twenty-four hours, you will be relieved of command. Janssen, out."

When the screen blanked, Picard, head in hands, heaved a mighty sigh. The door chime sounded.

"What now?" thought Picard, raising his head.

"Come," he ordered.

The door slid aside and there stood a young female ensign flanked by Commander Riker and Lieutenant-Commander Worf. The girl looked absolutely miserable. They entered, the girl sat unbidden in front of Picard's desk. Worf stalked in to stand directly behind her. Riker strode purposefully to stand at Worf's right hand. Picard first gazed at the ensign then shifted his questioning eyes to Commander William T. Riker, second in command of the U.S.S. Enterprise.

"Captain," said Riker, purposefully striding two steps closer to the desk, "this is Engineer Ensign Emily Trask, the cause of our current situation." Emily sank lower in her seat.

"Thank you, gentlemen. That will be all," stated Picard flatly. He addressed the girl before him. "Sit up straight, Ensign." She did as she was told.

Picard folded his hands, staring at the girl who looked everywhere in the room except at the captain. Riker turned and strode purposefully from the room, while Worf stalked out.

Picard looked the girl over. Her chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders stopping at the swell of her ample breasts. Her green eyes sparkled as a single tear ran down her beautiful, flawless face. Her slightly upturned nose gave a small sniff. One delicate, perfect ear showed through the mass of hair. Her shoulders were broad but well-proportioned for a woman of her stature. Picard could see where her chest narrowed to her waist. Her hips and legs were hidden by the desk. He pulled a box of tissues from a desk drawer and pushed it across to her. Wordlessly, she took one and dabbed her eyes.