Chapter Text
Your hands fly over the console, your eyes are on the lightyears in front of you.
“Ensign, I need you to bring us through this belt,” your commander tells you calmly.
“Yes, sir,” you say confidently, bite your lower lip, and bring the shuttlecraft up to 3.2.
“May I suggest slowing down instead of speeding up, Ensign?” Golden eyes blink at you from the side.
“Sir, I know my way around this kind of track. I am good at what I do.”
Your fingers hold down the dials on the screen, and when the shuttle tilts to the right, so do you.
And Commander Data.
“Please slow down.”
“I can’t, sir. But I promise. I will bring us out of here,” you yell against the rattling engine.
Oh, how much you love flying a starship. However small, however insignificant. As long as there is a console to dial up the warp engine and a course that challenges you… you are all in for it.
“The anomaly is close behind us. Please continue,” Data says and types on his console.
You press your lips together and then—
“Uh.” Your eyes widen and your cheeks redden when you suddenly feel something wet in your crotch.
“No, no, no,” you yell out.
“Ensign, please stay concentrated,” your commander tells you.
You gasp, trying to think through it as the pee trickles slowly out of you, wetting your panties, your pants, and the seat below you.
You whine, but your eyes stay on the course.
You can’t focus on the accident. You need to avoid dying.
So you slow to warp 1.2 and eventually swerve out of the asteroid belt.
You lean back in your seat and shamefully push your hands to your crotch.
Data frowns over. “Did you spill your drink?”
“Sir, I am so sorry. Does this shuttle have a toilet?”
Commander Data furrows his brow. “I suppose it does. You can use it, of course, Ensign.”
“Thank you,” you breathe and shakily stand up from your seat.
Before you leave your commanding officer in the cockpit, though, you lay your jacket over the pee stain.
Then you walk off hastily to the toilet.
After cleaning yourself up a little, you walk back to face the shame. Your cheeks are flushed.
And Commander Data is holding your jacket. “I believe you have lost urine during the training. This sometimes happens with new pilots. The focus makes it very easy to forget one’s own needs.”
You look down and shiver.
“Can I please have my jacket back?”
“Ensign, you cannot wear this. It is dirty. I will give you mine if you are cold,” he offers and puts your jacket over the seat you sat in and then unzips his own jacket.
Your eyelashes flutter at him, confused, when there is suddenly a jacket draped over your shoulders.
“I think you should return to your quarters, get new clothes, and then we will evaluate your training.”
Data next hands you your soiled jacket.
You nod timidly and rush out by activating the holodeck arch.
You sprint down the corridors in the direction of your shared quarters with another ensign, a Vulcan in the science department.
In there, you hastily clean yourself up. Stripping down naked, showering, and then putting on a new uniform.
And while you dress again, the commander’s jacket still lies on your bed.
Your heart is beating fast.
He really didn’t have to give it to you. You were on the holodeck. It really isn’t that cold.
You zip up your jacket and then caress your front gently.
With Commander Data’s jacket in your arms, you then hurry down the corridors until you arrive in one of the small conference rooms.
Data is already sitting there, looking down at his PADD, lips pursed and wearing only a shirt.
Still embarrassed, you hand over his jacket.
“Thank you, Ensign. Please sit down.”
You do, and before he can even start with his evaluation, you begin.
“I am so sorry, sir. This will never happen again. I have a weak bladder, and I was told that that is common among the Betazoids of my family. I am only one quarter, but… apparently I have that gene. I promise before our next training session I will just not drink.”
Data blinks at you. “Ensign, please drink something. It is important.”
You sigh and close your eyes.
“I did not mind. It was, after all, the holodeck, and it was a stressful simulation.”
“Still, I am not in the Academy anymore. This type of thing shouldn’t happen, Commander.”
Data stands and walks over to the replicator in the room. He types something, and you watch his lean back as it synthesizes.
Then he comes over, holding a big glass of water.
He puts it down before you. “I do not want you to be dehydrated. Please drink something.”
Hesitatingly, you take the glass and sip some from it as the commander sits back down opposite you and reviews your performance.
Focused on what he says, you don’t feel that in a matter of minutes you drank the entire glass.
Your belly feels full, it gurgles, and your uniform presses against it a little in the front now.
It was a big glass.
But since you aren’t in kindergarten anymore, you just figure you will hold it in until this review is over.
“I must say you have improved. Yet I still see some of the reckless tendencies in your flying style that made Commander Riker order this training course for you, Ensign. You are very capable, but sometimes you are overly confident. You speed where you do not need to, you take risks where they are not necessary, and you do not…”
You shift in your seat.
“Is there something wrong?”
“No, sir. Continue,” you tell him and squeeze your thighs together.
You are not a toddler. This really can’t happen again.
“Are you sure? If you need to go to the toilet, Ensign, I can wait,” Data assures you and lifts his brow.
“No, Commander. I am fully… focused on your review. You were saying I am reckless.”
“Yes,” Data nods and looks back down at his PADD.
Meanwhile, your bladder feels like it is pulsating.
A blush coats your cheeks, and your mind only seems to see Data’s lips move and not hear him say anything.
He gave you his jacket.
And he didn’t seem disgusted.
It was all so embarrassing. You went potty at your station.
“Ensign?” Data cocks his head.
“Yes,” you nod.
“So you do agree that you need more training?” He frowns, a little confused, it seems.
“What?”
“I have asked if you believe you require more training,” Data repeats softly.
You squeeze your eyes shut. “Maybe?”
You begin to chuckle and shift around on your chair.
There must be some position that will make this go away. Make it easier for you to hold it.
You don’t have accidents anymore. The last one was in the Academy. Right when you started.
“Do you require the toilet, Ensign?”
“No,” you snap and then stand. “Stop saying that. I am not some baby.”
You walk to the replicator. “In fact, I will just have another glass of water, if you do not mind, Commander. Because, as it happens, I am thirsty and I don’t need the bathroom.”
You order a tall glass of water. As big as they come.
Data blinks at you, his lips part.
The replicator synthesizes the water, and while you dance around in your tortured way, you then tilt the water to your lips and drink it.
You stand there, your thighs squeezed shut as much as you can.
More and more liquid fills your already full and gurgling belly.
It feels round at this point.
“Ensign, are you distressed in any way? Is this review stressing you? Do you need a break?”
You just gulp and gulp.
Your belly starts to hurt, so you groan into the glass and press your back against the wall next to the replicator.
When you are done, you exhale and groan. You see that Commander Data has stood up from his chair, walked over, and now holds a tricorder to your head.
“I merely want to know if you are alright. It happens sometimes that pilots are distressed during or after a test. If you are, I will send you to Doctor Crusher and ask if Counselor Troi can give you an appointment today.”
“I don’t need help,” you press out.
Data slowly takes the glass of water away from you and then looks down.
“I believe your movements indicate that you have a full bladder and need to go to the toilet.”
“No,” you hiss and then push past him.
Feeling your uniform stretch in the front and your insides pressing, you sit down in your seat again. “I am fine. Let’s continue, Commander.”
Data sits back down. Hesitatingly. But he does.
He then takes a few moments to go through his notes again.
“I think at least three more drills and reviews and I can sign off on your progress. You are a very good pilot. It is simply your attitude that needs adjustment. When you fly the Enterprise, you cannot…”
“I get it. I get it,” you say hastily and shift on your chair again. “I can’t fly through a debris field at more than impulse, and I need to be careful because it’s… h… it’s a, uh… big ship.”
Your cheeks flush.
No, there is no way to deny it. You need the toilet now.
Data nods over. “Yes, that is correct. But it is not enough to know and repeat, Ensign. I do not believe you are truly understanding it yet. You say you have changed your attitude toward flying, but in the drill you wanted to go faster than was necessary. You do not need the warp drive at all in an asteroid belt.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you nod frantically and shift.
Data stares at you and then exhales. “Well, I think that is enough for today. Please remember that for the next days you will work at Ops. Not as a pilot.”
“Uh-huh,” you nod and lean over the table, groaning.
“Ensign, you are dismissed,” Data calmly says.
“Alright. Sure? Don’t you, uh… have anything else you need to, uh… tell me?”
“No, I do not. Please go to the bathroom now.”
“I don’t need to pee,” you snap and then stand in a sudden motion.
And as you do, it happens.
You feel a warm wetness trickle into your panties, and when you try to hold the rest in, it doesn’t work.
Your eyes widen when you look over and see Data stare at your crotch.
How it wets.
You hear it trickle down, stream down.
And you can only stand there and shiver.
Then you sniffle.
“Ensign, wait,” Data says softly and stands. He replicates a few towels and hands them to you.
“It is no problem.”
“No, it is,” you sniffle and press the towel to your crotch. Now it gets wet.
Data replicates a few more. In absolute silence. Totally calm.
He hands you one after another while you sob with embarrassment.
“I went potty,” you sob.
“Ensign?” Data cocks his head.
You bite your tongue, but then you just start crying again.
“I can go potty, I swear. I trained this. I trained this. I am good. I am a big girl. I don’t need help with potty anymore.”
“Ensign? Shall I call Doctor Crusher?” Data frowns.
You blink up at him and try to find the right words.
“I am a very big girl at work. I swear. I am,” it comes out. You blink a few times and tears fall.
“You are,” Data nods and then takes a soaked towel from you. “I know you are, Ensign. You are a big girl.”
You hold your crotch in agony. The pee stopped now. All is out.
“Am I correct to assume that right now you are not a big girl?”
You blush and avert your eyes. You shift around and fumble around with your pee-soaked pants.
“May I offer my help, Ensign? May I bring you back to your quarters?”