Tasha's hands gripped the wooden bar tightly as she fought to hide her frustration. She kept her face a blank mask, as the Captain negotiated with the Romulan on his bridge.
The sensors relayed all the strategic information to her screens, and she stood ready for any action. She felt a liquid thrill race up and down her spine. She just found something sexual in confrontations. Afraid she was blushing, she glanced back over the screens.
Raising her eyes to the viewscreen, and the Captain, she paused for a second to admire his taut ass. It was wrong to lust after a powerful figure in this modern day, and she felt a frisson of guilt about the age difference too.
Captain Rhiana Hdead, was looking almost bored, as the conversation drew on. It was clearly a delaying tactic, and her fingers formed into a fist in frustration. Off her left shoulder, the steady low growling purr of Worf, assured her that he'd reached the same conclusion.
Glancing around the bridge, her eyes fell upon Counselor Troi. From her position, she had a view of her cleavage. It just wasn't right, and undermined the ... the uniformity of the bridge. As a woman she had a responsibility to be taken seriously, and not to make it harder for those other women around her to be seen as authority figures.
Tasha was distracted by the thought of how Deanna would have adjusted to the life she'd faced as a young woman. It was easy to picture her as an enhanced pneumatic bimbo hanging off some gang leader's arm, giggling insipidly.
The tension was rising between the captains, their voices becoming sharper, their sentences shorter.
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