4731J-3 Ch. 01

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Doctor, I was just holding Wesley's pe- his pack while he took his sweater off."

"Well, let's keep moving," Crusher advised with an encouraging smile. "We know what happens when our feet stay in one place for too long."

"Thanks," Wesley said.

Flashing an uncomfortable smile, he took his pack from Ogawa, also taking a quick look at the nurse's wet, tight little body before turning to continue on with his now fully erect 'Johnson', as he privately called it.

While Ogawa noticed this condition, his mother didn't seem to. She only stood, regarding the young Japanese nurse as she watched Wesley with an odd expression.

"Alyssa? Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, Doctor, I'm fine," she replied, blushing again with an overly bright smile before starting off in the acting ensign's wake.

"What's going on?" Deanna asked when she caught up to the doctor.

Beverly had been staring after Ogawa when the empath approached, wondering the same thing.

"Probably nothing," Crusher said, noting right away that Deanna's mood seemed to have brightened. She was smiling the kind of smile she usually wore when Riker was around. "How are you holding up?"

"Hungry, but alright," Deanna replied. "However..."

"Yes?" Crusher inquired.

"Well, have you noticed how your, um... sex drive has...?"

"What?" Beverly asked, taking her turn to blush while silently cursing all empaths everywhere.

"It's not just you. It's all of us. I... I can feel it."

It was true. Until then, Beverly had chalked her overactive hormones up to stress, but she'd had no idea the rest of the group was experiencing the same symptoms, and only then did Crusher notice how Troi's nipples were now clearly impressing themselves from behind her bra and the bodice of her dress. A sudden, alarming idea to grab those nipples was squashed in favour of taking out her tricorder for another reading.

"Is there a problem?" T'vor asked as she stopped.

She'd lowered her uniform's discrete zipper far enough to show off abundant cleavage, the insides of her round, wet globes beautifully showcased without any shame whatsoever. Her nipples were stunningly imprinted into her uniform and Deanna's mind stuttered slightly at the sight of her. She remembered the young command officer's strength when she let her out of her safety harness, semi-exposing her bra bound breasts in the process. There was something that was almost masculine about her, yet she was plainly all woman. During sessions with her, T'vor had exhibited an emotional aspect that seemed vibrant, yet stable, and Troi wondered if she'd find out just how stable this aspect of her personality was before the current situation was resolved.

Hesitating at the ensign's casual immodesty, Beverly replied, "It's the mist. Particularly the plasmic energy charge its holding."

"I thought the mist was only a problem for the emergency beacon," Troi said, though not with her usual, slightly whining tone.

"The medical tricorder," Crusher explained, "is programmed differently than a standard issue tricorder. Its scan range is wider and better able to recognize and analyze potential health issues."

"Are we in danger, Sir?" T'vor asked.

"Not exactly," Crusher thoughtfully replied as she read the specialized instrument. "The effect seems limited to our frontal and temporal lobes."

"Those are the areas of the brain that regulate our emotional functions," Deanna said.

"And our judgement and intellect," Beverly warned.

Both she and Troi managed not to look at T'vor, the look that did pass between them meaningful enough.

"Hm," T'vor commented. "Fascinating."

"That's a very interesting way to wear your uniform," Troi spouted in a friendly, neutral tone as Beverly took her turn to pull her feet out of the muck.

"Thank you, Councillor. Would you like to talk about it as we walk?"

" ... Uh, yes, that would be fine," Troi replied, caught off guard by the ensign who usually had to be practically dragged, kicking and screaming to her twice weekly sessions. She was able to discretely flash Beverly another look as she set off with T'vor, but the doctor was still staring at her tricorder.

By the time she'd caught up to Ogawa, Beverly was a sweaty mess. She was getting tired, as they all were, but it was best not to think about that.

The front of Ogawa's uniform was open even further than T'vor's was, the blue gusset of what looked like Starfleet's regulation bra easily visible. She walked with a dreamy smile and was startled at the sudden presence of her superior.

"Alyssa, my son could turn around any minute and... see you." She pointed out with more surprise than concern.

"He never turns around, Doctor."

Beverly couldn't help but notice that nurse Ogawa had a bigger pair than her uniform suggested, and was glad to hear her son wasn't turning around. She was about to try to reason further with her nurse, order her to cover herself if necessary, until it occurred to her that Ogawa's slightly odd behaviour could be part of the plasmic energy's effect. Only several minutes ago, she was surprised at how competent Deanna was acting.

"Uh, I took some further readings of the plasmic energy in the mist. I think you should take a look."

"Sure, Doctor."

After some moments, "I see... So, what should we do?" Ogawa asked, seeming more like herself now as she passed the tricorder back.

"There isn't much we can do, other than keep an eye on each other and... (sigh) I don't know. Can you go ahead and warn Wesley?"

"Sure thing, Doctor," Ogawa said with her usual helpful smile.

Beverly smiled back, comforted in the easy working relationship she'd always had with Alyssa as the young woman walked on ahead to apprise her son of the current situation. Beverly couldn't help noticing that her underling had a very fit and shapely posterior, her sodden uniform making that more obvious now. As Ogawa touched Wesley's forearm to get his attention, Crusher remembered that her nurse hadn't zippered up her uniform.

But it was too late. Wesley looked, then looked down. His eyes practically bulged, though it really wasn't that much of a display. Ogawa, oblivious to his reaction, went about explaining the latest findings regarding the mist, showing her usual glowing smile as her eyes shamelessly surveyed Wesley's upper body.

They'd come to a stop. Crusher couldn't make out any words, but she also came to a stop, not wanting to catch up with them. It would be awkward, and besides, she'd sent Ogawa ahead with the news for a reason. Yes, it was probably a mark of good leadership to stop and let them...

She looked back, finding T'vor and Troi in deep conversation as they plodded along.

"You're saying that modesty is illogical?" Troi asked.

"Basically, yes," T'vor answered. "Since sex, for Vulcans, is necessary only for procreation, the stigmatism that humans have erected around it do not exist. Therefore, modesty is illogical because there is no shame to cover."

"I see. Then why do Vulcans bother with clothing? Especially considering how hot it is on Vulcan."

"Obviously because we'd be sunburned without them," T'vor answered with a smile.

It was odd speaking to a Vulcan who smiled and used contractions, even if that Vulcan was half human. T'vor used the same bland tone that most Vulcans do, yet her emotional set, when she chose to show it, seemed to work very well with it. Today, T'vor seemed unusually responsive, almost warm, and Troi found their conversation to be quite enjoyable and more personal than their regular sessions. She wondered if it was the plasmic energy.

"Well," Deanna playfully returned, "If you really feel that way, why are you wearing your uniform now? There's certainly no danger of sunburn," she pointed out, gesturing to the sodden, red clouds overhead.

"Would you like me to take it off?"

"I-I didn't say that."

"It's advisable that we all remove our uniforms," T'vor stated. "It would cool our bodies more efficiently, reducing use of our water provisions, and would in turn help to avoid dehydration for as long as possible."

"Uh, the thinking is sound, but I think you might have trouble convincing Dr. Crusher."

"Not if you helped, Councillor."

Troi looked sharply at her walking companion, though her smile remained. She was having trouble reading T'vor, which meant that the young woman was keeping her out, as Vulcans could, but it also troubled her a little as her gaze fell to T'vor's open cleavage.

Again, she thought of how T'vor had released her from the safety restraint in the shuttle, how safe she'd felt for the moment she'd spent in her arms, like she used to feel when she was in the arms of Riker. And she'd waited with her on the loading ramp after everyone else had hopped over and into the water, patiently encouraging her while everyone else showed irritation rather than sympathy.

"Regardless," T'vor speculated, "I don't think she could stop me from taking mine off."

"No, maybe not. You could be in trouble once we're rescued, though."

"Perhaps."

"Do you want to take your uniform off?" Troi asked, feeling strangely giddy at the idea.

"Only if you want me to, Councillor."

And there was that smile again. It was disarmingly beautiful, and so confident. Before she knew it, Deanna was wondering if she might ask the ensign to remove her uniform in a more private setting, perhaps when they stopped for the night if they could temporarily remove themselves from the others...

Ahead, the doctor had stopped up, and so had Wesley and Ogawa ahead of her. The other ensign and the nurse were talking, and Beverly was looking back at Troi and T'vor with an odd expression.

"Uh, I'd better see what's going on," Troi excused herself with a flush.

"Of course, Councillor," T'vor replied, her smirk as evident in her tone as it was on her mouth.