USS
Galaxy:The Next Generation Sim Log Stardate: 50302.03 - 50302.08 |
****
Commander Rebecca von Ernst slumped back into the loving arms of the oversized command chair and wearily rubbed at her exhausted eyes.
~~~Noodles on a half-shell,~~~ she yawned mentally, ~~~Who would have thought there could be so many places to hide on a single ship.~~~
Eight hours of relentless detective work had only scratched the surface of the investigation into the theft of Bhrode's desk. A task made infinitely more difficult by the malfunction of ships internal sensors.
Stifling a yawn for real this time, and idly swinger her dainty feet (which did not quite reach the floor) Rebecca tapped out her signature on the most recent of Investigation updates.
~~~How come I get stuck here with the crime of the century, while Noodle-head Lysander gets shore leave? I bet he's snuggling up to some icky Klingon floozy trying to look at her boobies or something.~~~
Rebecca's freckled nose scrunched into a scowl. Klingons and Commander Hawksley were definitely high on her 'icky' list.
"Computer," she announced to the air, " log all security measures to official record and flag copy to Starfleet Command."
=/\=LOGGED AND SENT=/\=
She peered around the eerily quiet bridge. Not a sound was to be heard save for the quiet chirps of fingers on LCARS consoles.
Hours ago when the incident was first reported the flame haired little XO had been an emotionless mask of professionalism. Her ice hard glare had withered any idle chatter, and her disapproving sighs had dismissed their most stringent efforts as being insufficient.
In fear, the skeleton had learned to keep quiet and instead hunched their aching shoulders over their displays, focused on the exhaustive search.
That was hours ago now, and the only trace of Rebecca the Ice Queen was the occasional pained grimace she made. ~~~Ow ow ow ow. . .my head is going to split open if I look at one more ship's diagnostic.~~~
With the coming of the headache her cool demeanor had faded away back into her typical skittishness.
Fortunately for her, stuttering took a lot of energy so her speech oddly improved when she was exhausted. Wincing against the glare, she lifted her eyes back to the main viewer.
The view screen of the bridge no longer displayed its peaceful view of lanJep from orbit, but instead detailed a holographic overlay of the USS Galaxy's Deck Plans.
Multicolored computer labels detailed the results of the intense bow-to-stern search for clues, and the position of every Security patrol presently aboard the vessel.
Little colored dots move too and fro across the screen as the much-degraded security department struggled to search every nook and cranny of the mammoth vessel.
Unfortunately there was to be no outside help.
Hours ago, Rebecca had initiated a level one Security lock-down for the entire vessel, effectively cutting it off form the outside world, and (hopefully) preventing the intruders from escaping.
Low level shielding prevented anyone from beaming to or from the Galaxy, and massive internal bulkheads had slammed shut around the ship's vital Bridge, Engineering, and Computer centers. Only someone with a portable blowtorch, and a LOT of patience could gain access to these areas now.
Unfortunately this prevented some eager crewmembers from beaming down to enjoy lanJep's resorts, and the resultant grumbling was becoming contagious.
"Status report Ms Ocana?" Rebecca inquired softly of the inexperienced young Ops Officer. The massive shore leave had left the XO with mainly raw recruits to man critical stations, and her own security measures prevented her recalling anyone else from the surface.
"No luck Ma'am" Ocana replied with a frown. "Nobody seems to know where Dr. Quick or Captain Bhrode are at the moment, although some Crewmembers I was able to talk to mentioned seeing the Captain take off with some Klingons in some sort of ground vehicle."
"Con. .concentrate on Quick. . . . We need those internal scanners up and running."
"Aye Ma'am."
Several more maddeningly slow minutes passed in utter silence. Rebecca closed her eyes against her throbbing headache and resumed swinging her legs. ~~~This is ridiculous... I'm not doing any good sitting her making the crew nervous... I need to find Quick personally.~~~
Making up her mind, Rebecca slid off the end of the chair onto her feet, and stretched painfully untwisting the knots in her back. "Mr. Munro, Call Transporter Room 3 and tell them to prepare to beam me down to lanjep. I'm gonna go track down the Doctor and the Captain personally."
The young helmsman looked worried, "Beam down? What about the Security isolation?"
"What about it?"
"Well... Its...uh designed to keep the intruders from beaming off. But if you beam down yourself..."
"That's why I'm the only one going." Rebecca shrugged. "I know I didn't steal the desk, so I'm the only one I can trust. Commander Dallas is still aboard ship and I'll leave her in Command."
The other bridge officers didn't look convinced, but wisely held their peace.
"Very Well Commander," Ensign Munro nodded, "however Ma'am, if I may offer one bit of suggestion..." he glanced meaningfully at Rebecca's crisp black Starfleet uniform.
"W...w..what?" She protested. Even after all these years she was still a bit uncomfortable with stares from the opposite sex. "Is it dirty...or wrinkled?"
"No Ma'am, its just that this is not a Federation planet, and it would not be especially smart for a full Commander to walk around advertising the fact. You'd make a tempting target what with all your security codes and all."
Rebecca gulped. "Oops. point taken Ensign. I'll change clothes."
"Okay... I mean Aye Ma'am"
Ten minutes later in a sparkle of blue light Rebecca materialized on the surface of a quaint looking seaside resort.
Her starched Federation jumpsuit was gone, only to be replaced by a simple but flattering flower-print sundress her mother had sent to her for her birthday. The smooth cotton textures, and the still detectable scent of her mother's detergent brought vivid memories of her farmland home back to her.
~~~Oh Momma.~~ she sighed mentally, ~~~What am I doing way out here on the far end of the universe? Is this the life I really wanted? Alone... and away from home?~~~
The seaside breeze playfully tugged at her dress's hemline, and pulled an errant strand of red hair out from where she had tucked it behind her ears.
Instead of automatically reaching to put it back in place she decided to let it wave, enjoying the soft tickle of the strands against her cheeks. It was not unlike one of those breezy Minnesotan afternoons from her youth.
~~~Except for the temperature... ugh its hot.~~~ Rebecca fanned herself with her hand, thankful that she hadn't chosen to were the stifling fleet uniform.
Scanning the crowded resort, she was at once intimidated by the size and strangeness of the crowd. For several moments there was not a single human to be seen anywhere, as aliens abounded everywhere.
~~~Noodles, what the heck did I get myself into ~~~ she thought nervously. At heart, extraterrestrials still made her nervous.
****
"I'm sorry the evening didn't go the way you planned," Victor offered as he exited the café.
"That's all right dear one," Ar'resh sighed as she took his arm. "It was an emergency aboard your ship; we understand how those things are. At least James..."
"...said it was all right for you to stay with us so we had an escort home."
Rexa took his other arm. "The streets aren't very safe after dark, you know."
~ I pity the thief that tries to rob the two of you - he'd be begging the police to take him away. ~ "I wouldn't have been much use anyway. O'Rourke and her team are aboard and they don't need my help." ~ Or want me within a hundred meters. ~
"It was a good evening though - just think we had dinner with James Corgan...." Ar'resh leaned into Victor and sighed. " We really had..."
"...dinner with him. He's even nicer than we imagined he'd be... and he wears briefs, too. I could tell from the way his cute little butt moved while we..."
"...were dancing," Ar'resh smiled dreamily."
Victor wisely chose to say nothing about that revelation - or think about it for too long.
"Now if you'd just invited that nice Ella to dinner..."
"...everything would have been perfect," Ar'resh pointed out.
"Lieutenant Grey and I are not doing whatever it is you want us to be doing," Victor sighed. "She just... talked to me, that's all."
"Still..." Rexa stopped, and sighed. "Heinrich, dear one, I left my purse inside - can you run get it for me?"
"Yes," he nodded, glad for the escape. "You two are going to be all right?"
"We'll be fine," Ar'resh assured him. "What could happen?"
~ There are so many awful answers to that question that I won't try and think of them all. ~ "I'll be right back," he promised, turning back into the café.
Rexa watched him go. "He really is a good boy, just like our Bernhard was. I just wish..."
"I know," her sister agreed. "But there's no point in it. He is who he is - we'll just have to keep trying until we find the right girl for him, that's all."
Rexa squinted ahead. "Speaking of girls... I think that young child is lost."
"The one by the corner there? With the red hair?"
"Yes."
"Poor thing, she shouldn't be out here alone. Let's go see if we can help her out."
****
Alone in a sea of aliens, Rebecca vainly stood on her little tip-toes trying to figure a way out of this crowd.
~~~Noodles on a stick, this was a silly idea.~~~ she berated herself nervously. From the command chair in orbit it had seemed a simple matter to beam down and locate either Captain Bhrode or Dr. Quick.
Surrounded on all sided by hulking Klingons, Nausicans, and other weirdoes of questionable bathing habits it was another matter entirely.
~~~Ick!~~~ she gasped as one particularly noxious alien accidentally rubbed up against her. ~~~Haven't Klingons heard of anti-persperant?~~~
Hugging her bare, sleeveless arms in disgust, Rebecca shuddered. ~~~A Warrior's Smell.~~~ she mused.
Twisting like a spindle, her head whipped this way and that searching for any sign of her quarry. At one point she thought she saw a Galaxy crewmember about a half-block in the distance, but the crush of aliens cut her off before she could make headway.
(Point of fact, but the crowd was NOT really that overwhelming, but when you are a mere 5 foot nothing amid a sea of seven foot Klingons, the world looks like one uninterrupted wall of armpits.)
~~~Help.~~~ she bit her lower lip and gave a small 'hop' trying to see better.
The effect made her seem more lost and childlike in appearance.
It was then that a soft blue arm reached out of the crowd and grabbed her by her little freckled shoulder.
"EEEK!" Rebecca nearly leapt out of her skin in surprise, as an image of every blue-skinned man-eating alien known to Federation Science flashed through her mind.
(There were times when a good memory was not helpful)
"Arrrr. . . .I smells me the blood of human flesh. . .prepare to be eaten!!!"
"W..w..w.w.wha... huh... who?." Rebecca stuttered intelligently, her teeth chattering.
"I said," Rexa repeated with a sweet smile, "...are you lost little girl? Are you."
".hungry? Have you eaten?" finished Ar'resh with a similar look of concern.
~~~Wha-Andorian. . .Who?~~~
At a moment when it was Klingons as far as the eye could see, the two blue-skinned Federation members was close enough to human for Rebecca's mind, and a wave of relief washed across her features.
The two women towered over Rebecca, both attired in similar white formal dresses, cut both for aesthetics, as well as mobility.
Their azure complexion was set off by silvery manes of iridescent hair, in which one wore a dusting of tiny crystals that sparkled in the resort lighting. The shorter Andorian (they were both tall to Rebecca) wore her own hair long and loose, brushing just below her waist in billowy waves that for a moment reminded Rebecca of her own mothers luscious red locks.
"Oh dear, the poor child is frightened out of her wits," said one her face softening into a look of sympathy.
"... or perhaps she cannot speak or doesn't know he language," the other postulated, and fixed Rebecca with a critical stare, "D-o y-o-u s-p-e-a-k F-e-d-e-r-a-t-i-o-n B-a-s-i-c ?" she asked speaking slowly and enunciating clearly.
Rebecca's brain finally caught some traction, and she furrowed her brows in confusion. ~~~What the noodles.~~~ she thought attempting to withdraw a little, being quite intimidated by the elegant twin beauties towering over her.
"O...o.. of course I s...sp...speak Basic." She sputtered. ~~~Oh great time for my stutter to kick in.~~~ "W...w...w.what do you want from me?... l .l.. let go...please."
"Oh good," The taller woman sighed, still smiling. "I don't have my notebook with me tonight. "are you sure, you're all."
".right?" the other woman completed, the words meshing seamlessly. "No one's tried to hurt you, have they?" She frowned at the idea.
"Ar'resh. I don't think." The taller woman let go of Rebecca's arm. "No, I think she's just a little overwhelmed, that's all."
"Oh, well we'll take care of that," The shorter woman - Ar'resh - reached out and took Rebecca's hand with a friendly smile. "I'm Ar'resh, and this is my sister, Rexa. What's."
.your name?" Rexa asked. She paused, looking closer at Rebecca with the same practiced eye Rebecca had seen on doctor after doctor in her career. "And, I 'm sorry if this is rude, but. how old are you?"
"How old?" For the briefest of seconds Rebecca felt her face flush with a hint of anger. Not at the concerned women necessarily, but rather at her own much-hated features. Apparently she was being mistaken for a child again, something that would amuse Noodle-headed Lysander to no end.
"My name is Rebecca, and. I. I'm twenty seven." She managed with a blush. She awaited the inevitable protest of disbelief.
The women never looked at one another. "I wish that I'd had your skin when I was twenty-seven," Ar'resh exclaimed enviously. "It's so..."
"...perfect, you must spend hours working on it every day," Rexa nodded.
"And your hair is absolutely gorgeous; you must get lots of compliments on it."
In spite of herself Rebecca blushed. Her smattering of freckles were in fact a source of annoyance to her, and as far as her daily beauty regimen went, it merely consisted of a quick shower and a wet washcloth behind the ears. (Momma Ernst was particular about clean ears.)
As for compliments on her looks, she had to her knowledge never received a single one. Heck, she'd never ever been invited out on a date before even.
Her brain interrupted that thought to point out that she had in fact been proposed to once a year and a half ago by Lysander, and that at least ought to count for something.
Her ego argued back however that Lysander was a noodle-head and thus was an unreliable source for compliments.
~~~Besides,~~ she sniffed softly, ~~~Even HE never invited me to so much as a simple dinner-date.~~~
In spite of all these mental calculations, all Rebecca could manage aloud was, "My. hair? Oh... Well... Its red you know..."
~~~Brilliant Einstein. What the heck is that supposed to mean?~~~
Fortunately the azure sisters ignored her silly comments.
Rexa looked around. "Are you waiting for someone? Is there a problem? We'd be glad to help you out if..."
"...you're in some sort of trouble," Ar'resh nodded. "Our nephew Heinrich will be along in just a minute, and I just know..."
"...he'll insist on helping out too. He's very nice that way."
"I'm not in trouble... n. not really." Rebecca shrugged peering up at the pretty women. ~~~Nerts! Even the Blue Alien Women look more like real girls than I do.~~~she fretted with jealousy. "I'm with... uh... well the Galaxy." She made an awkward gesture pointing towards the sky, although she wasn't quite sure in which direction the ship lay. "I'm... I'm a human you know," she sputtered inanely then blushed again realizing what a silly statement that sounded like.
~~~Way to go peanut-head. You're on a roll today.~~~
"Really?" Ar'resh's smile widened.
"So is our nephew, Heinrich. Do you..."
"...know him?" Rexa looked around. "Where is that boy? I told him where I left my purse." She turned back. "Now don't worry, Rebecca, once he gets back..."
"...we'll help you get things all sorted out, no matter what your problem is," Ar'resh assured her with a friendly squeeze of her hand. "He's very good..."
"...at solving problems, our Heinrich is," her sister agreed. With us helping you, we'll have everything straightened out in no time."
~~~Actually, I'm second in command of the United Federations' newest Battleship, and I'm on the surface conducting an investigation into a mysterious violation of bridge security that could have serious ramifications for the entire fleet....~~~
That's what Rebecca wanted to say anyhow. Instead it came out as sort of a muffled squeak. "Uh... sure... whatever... .I'm trying to locate a... uh... Doctor that might help me with a problem I'm having."
"A problem that calls for a Doctor?" Rexa tsked in sudden concern, exchanging a glance with her sister "Oh. Oh, you poor dear, we understand how confusing..."
"...it can be for a young girl in your delicate condition." Ar'resh nodded in total sympathy. "What is it with men these days leaving poor sweet girls alone to deal with an unexpected child?"
"That's why it's essential to take proper precautions." Rexa continued, "Just like we tell our..."
"...Heinrich." Ar'resh beamed. "Always ensure proper protection is on hand before sleeping with someone, lest accidents happen. Of course our silly prattling is doing nothing to help your present circumstances," she added with a sigh.
"Don't worry dear," Rexa patted Rebecca's hand reassuringly. "We'll have our Heinrich."
"...track down a discrete clinic for you."
Being the socially clueless person that she was, Rebecca did not quite catch on to the women's innuendoes. She was not sure how a clinic would help locate Dr. Quick so he could help with the internal sensor problems, but maybe this Heinrich character could help.
"I... uh... guess so." She mumbled. "I... I haven't even figured out who it was who did this." She said referring to the fact the Desk Thieves were still unidentified. The double looks of concern on the Andorians face seemed to convey they understood completely.
"Well sometimes it is hard to keep track..." one said.
"Especially in our younger days, remember Ar'resh?" the other added with a wistful sigh.
"Yeah... well... I think it was two guys working together." Rebecca frowned. "I'm not sure really, but that's what the video showed afterwards."
"The VIDEO!!??!" a shocked exclamation from both women together.
Rebecca shrugged. The Security video of the Theft had been fuzzy, but there did seem to be two perpetrators. "I believe so. Maybe. I wasn't paying too much attention at the time though, because I don't think I saw either ones face."
"Oh dear." Ar'resh's eyes widened.
"Don't worry, Rebecca," Rexa assured her. "It's no trouble at all. We girls have."
".to stick together. If we stood by and let something like this happen to you without helping."
".then we'd be without honor." Rexa's voice was firm and determined.
Ar'resh reached out and hugged Rebecca in a comforting, motherly/sisterly way. "You don't have to deal with this alone, dear, I promise. We'll help you."
****
Victor stepped back out into the street, straightening his jacket. ~ I do not believe that. I don't. First the waiter tries to claim the purse was never there, then, when the owner pats him down, he tries to claim it just 'fell' under his jacket. ~ He shook his head. ~ I haven't seen anything that clumsy in years. ~
Reaching the street, he stopped and looked around. ~ Okay, where are they? Please don't tell me that. ~ He turned, searching the crowds still filling the streets. ~No, there they are. ~ He relaxed, the visions of a repeat of the Ferengi slave market kidnapper incident on Sextus Prime fading from his head. ~ They 're just talking to someone - looks like a girl. ~ He started towards them, relieved. ~ Okay, nothing terrible then. How much trouble can one little girl be?~
****
"Oh, there he is," Rexa sighed in relief. She smiled at Rebecca, her eyes still holding their mix of anger and sympathy. "Our Heinrich is coming now."
Ar'resh smiled and squeezed her hand again. "We'll get all of this taken care of," she promised.
>From down the street, a tall, dark-haired human man in an all-black formal outfit approached, carrying a white woman's purse in his left hand, the crowd parting around him so that there was always a circle of empty space about as wide as Rebecca was tall surrounding him as he walked.
He stopped next to Rexa and offered her the purse. "Sorry that took so long. The waiter took it. Had to get the manager to pat him down to get it back. I checked, and everything's still there."
"Thank you, dear one," Rexa smiled, taking it. "He's such a good boy," she told Rebecca.
"Who's your friend?" Victor asked with a pleasant smile, abruptly realizing that Rebecca wasn't recoiling from him. ~ She's not scared of me. ~ His smile turned to one of mixed relief and greeting. ~ Pretty girl - she's going to be a heartbreaker when she gets a little. ~ His eyes narrowed as he looked at Rebecca, a sudden feeling of horror sweeping over him. ~ Wait. she 's not in uniform, but isn't that. ~
"This our friend, Rebecca," Ar'resh started. "She's in trouble."
". and we told her that the three of us would straighten everything out for her."
~ .Commander von Ernst? ~ Victor's stomach went into free fall.
"She's looking for a good clinic," Rexa began.
"A clinic?" Victor asked, dreading the answer.
Ar'resh sighed. "The poor girl was exploring her sexual boundaries."
".with a pair of men."
".at the same time, but things got out of hand."
".and she forgot."
".to use protection at the appropriate time."
".like we always advise you to do."
".and she's afraid that she might become pregnant by."
".one of the men.. We've got to make certain that."
".she's not going to become pregnant, so that's why we."
".need the clinic, since she was so swept away by passion that."
".she doesn't remember the names or faces."
".of either of the men, and can't ask them for help."
"She's. two. clinic?" Victor tried reconciling what he knew about the Commander with the story. "She doesn't know who they were?" he finally got out.
"No," Rexa sighed. "She tried checking the video they made of their."
"encounter, but the faces weren't in focus," Ar'resh sighed.
"W.w. w.what!?! " Rebecca squeaked in utter confusion. "I d. .d...d...did what with who and h. . . how?"
"There's nothing to worry about, dear," Ar'resh said comfortingly. "Denial is a normal part of this process. You shouldn't be ashamed of your desires, it's."
".not healthy to suppress your sexual urges. If two men at once is what it takes to."
".satisfy you, then you should just do what you did and find two amenable partners. Just remember."
".to use protection next time," Rexa nodded.
Rebecca hardly believed it was possible to shake her head in denial so quickly. "I NEVER s... s-said that!" she gasped, the color burning her cheeks in shame. "I. I. I'm looking for someone to help fix the ship's internal s..s..s..sensors."
"Sensors?" Ar'resh looked at her sister.
"Ship?"
"The Galaxy," Victor explained, still trying to sort things out in his head. ~ Commander von Ernst and two.? ~ "This is Commander von Ernst, my XO. Err... one of my XO's," he corrected.
"Oh, well, "Ar'resh sighed, "that's much easier to help out with. But," she added with a smile, "you really should."
".be more careful when selecting partners. I understand that passion can make you agree."
".to things you wouldn't ordinarily do, but you should always use protection, just in case."
"I've never, never EVER done ANYTHING!" Rebecca insisted shrilly, stamping her foot to emphasize the point. "Never!!"
"Never?" Ar'resh's eyes widened. "Oh you poor dear!"
Rexa looked at Victor, in shock. "She's never.? Not even."
~ I wonder if I can slip away and pretend this never happened? ~ Victor eyed his aunts and Rebecca. ~ No, I can't leave her here alone with them. God only knows what'll happen if I do. ~
".once?" Ar'resh was dumbfounded. "Oh you poor thing!"
"There are those two twin Deltan masseurs," Rexa proposed. "We could see if they would agree to help Rebecca out.."
".with her problem, Yes, I'm sure they would!" Ar'resh nodded. "They'd be perfect, especially considering."
".Rebecca's fantasies about two men." Rexa smiled at Rebecca. "Don't worry dear, we'll."
".take care of everything."
Rebecca glanced at the young man standing beside the two Andorians. In a flash her mental review of the ship's crew brought his face to the forefront of her mind... Victor HEINRICH Krieghoff!!
~~~Great googly-Moogly!!~~~ she realized with horror. ~~~The whole ship is gonna think that I. . .that I. . .~~~
"Oooooo" A small moan escaped the young girls lips as her brown eyes rolled back into her skull, and she fainted dead away in the middle of the street with a soft 'plop'
* * * * * * * * *
"Follow that Vehicle and smash it into dust! Crush them under our bootheels! Suck the honor and marrow from their cracked bones!" bellowed the Klingon General at Lysander, pointing from his Command Seat with an imperious finger at the Federation Vehicle.
"You gave it to them!" repeated Lysander, glaring at Log.
"No." Log grunted.
"Yes you DID! you HAD it and then...'Yoicks!' they have it!" Lys ranted.
"Corgan took it." Log grunted.
"That SMEGGER! He stole my robot! He stole my Princess! And you just GAVE him the egg? It was in your hands and...." Lsyander ranted. He was ignored as usual.
"You say "Indian Giver' and we're gonna have issues." Log promised with a glare. It was the longest phrase Lysander had heard from him.
"But..." Lysander eyed the size of the Indian, who seemed to loom out of his seat at him.
"I hate that joke." Log growled.
"Smeggers! they took our egg!" growled the lanky Alpha Centaurian, wrestling with the steering of the KR-3400. true to Klingon design philosophy, the engines were outsized and the armour was heaped on the vehicle. "Make it bigger, then stronger, then bigger again. And then worry about making it move." was the Klingon Combat Engineers motto, seemingly. The hovercraft moved like a racehorse from the raw power at its disposal, but steered like a cow from its top-heavy bulk. The engines were six times more powerful than they needed to be and the noise was deafening inside the cockpit. Although Klingons never really whisper, so bellowing over the din was par for the course. Of course, it bristled with weapons systems also.
In front of them, the Federation ARGOS vehicle was trunding away at a breakneck rate of speed on its oversized tires. Behind the ARGOS, an enormous jukKa bird flapped it's mighty wings, sunlight glinting off the smei-metallic scales that covered the beast. Again, the double bills of the bird opened and its mighty scream rumbled of the two throats out at the interloping vehicle that had stolen its offspring.
"That Bird." Log grated in his gravelly voice.
"Yes?" asked the General, still admiring the bird himself.
"Which of the two heads do you steer with?" growled Major Log, eyes locked on the bird.
"Smeggers!" Lysander growled again.
"You don't. You sit on the back in a sort of pagoda and shoot, and your Flyers beat it over the heads from another level of the pagoda; until it's flying where you want it to. And you hope they remembered to feed it, so it doesn't get ideas about eating the pagoda it's carrying on its back." the General replied, slightly more calm.
Log grunted noncommitally.
"They're mean, but if you tame them right from the egg, you can ride them. Until they get too big for the pagodas, then they must be killed." the general added.
Grunt.
"When I was a boy, the lan'Jepi jukKa riders were something to see." reminisced the Klingon General.
"I bet." was the Grunt.
"They did arial trick shooting and infantry drops. there was a circus too..."
"Would have liked to try to ride it." was Log's reply, cutting off the General's memories.
"I know where there is a pagoda...maybe some of the old wranglers still work at the Dude Ranch..." the General offered.
"Bareback." Log added.
The General's mouth dropped open.
"Just me." Log added again, eyes still on the bird.
The Klingon turned admiring eyes on the stoic Indian.
Log just shrugged and kept watching the mighty bird with obsidian eyes.
The com screen sputtered to life near Lys' elbow. A Klingon Under-Officer saluted the General.
"Coordinates for the second object!" the Klingon barked, as the data flashed up on their screens. The General grunted and nodded, and the Under Officer disappeared.
Lysander eyed the data, and then did a double take
"Ohhhhhhh ssssmmmeeeeggggg..." he whined, as the memories of his last visit to lan'Jep flooded back.
* * * * * * * * * *
"A TARRGOTH SCALE?" Bellowed Bhrode from the gunnery platform of the ARGOS.
"Correct sir!" Lexa brought up the Targgoth on the computer display, a hideous, ugly, unsightly creature that looked to be a crossbreed of a six legged lizard and a riding horse. It was the cousin of the original Targ, except larger, uglier, and stronger. "One targgoth scale. Under the neck, or neck, or whatever that part is there...or we risk disqualification."
"You mean a damn dirty TARRGOTH?" Bhrode bellowed again. The Klingon communications philosophy was something Bhrode had taken to heart apparently.
"The very same, sir." Lexa replied to confirm.
"I hate Tarrgoths..." Bhrode muttered over the comlink.
Outside the ARGOS, the downdraft from each stroke from the wings of the enormous bird made the windstorm around the viewports dance. Lexa squinted and peered out her porthole and tried to puff the lock of hair out of her face again. Her beauty made James' heart clench.
"Lysand....Commander Hawksley had told me about the time he wrestled a Targgoth." Lexa mused, her clear eyes locked on the view ahead and avoiding James.
"Oh please, not more about that pr*ck." James groaned.
"James! He's not a pr*ck! He's a very nice guy when you get to know him! Sort of sexy. . .he's done a lot!" Lexa responded hotly.
"Yeah... and I bet he's a good kisser too." James muttered sarcastically.
"Actually... he isn't all -that! I'd expected..." She confessed.
"YOU MEAN YOU ACTUALLY KISSED HIM!?!?!?!" James blew up, losing what little cool he had left.
"Welll...." Lexa stammered, "Yes... I sort of ... did. After dinner... But he kept trying to force his tongue down my..."
JUST as James was throwing his head back to scream out at a cold and uncaring Universe.... he was interrupted.
"Shoo! Get oudda here!" Bhrode yelled at the Bird, which took no notice. At his feet, the metallic-ceramic surface of the egg was lashed to the deck. "Corgan! Stop that ticking noise!" Bhrode commanded.
"Right..." James looked around, couldn't see the source of the tickning noise, and decided to ignore everything but the mission at hand. SCrew Bhrode, Screw his ticking noise, and screw Lysander. "Still gotta find that Targgoth scale!" Okay, back to Lysander...." And Lex, you let him kiss you?!? How could you? Him, of all people? I don't care how terrible it was, you should never kiss an @$$hole!"
"He's not so bad... and if I follow that advice... I shouldn't kiss you?" Lexa jested.
Sarcastically, James replied, "Oh... very funny!"
"Relax James. I know you want to protect me... but Lysander is harmless... absolutely harmless! He won't get anywhere with me if he keeps slobbering on me like...."
******************
=/\="...that! Besides, he doesn't even pick up the bill at the restaurant like a civilized person."=/\= Crackled Lexa's voice over the Klingon's advanced signal, sound and voice interception array (ASS-VIA),relayed from in front of a crowd of amused Klingons to the KR-3400 =/\="I thought he'd make me pay for it, that lousy cheat. I think we just LEFT! Oh well... I suppose if I invited him to dinner...=/\=
"What? I smegging well OWN the resturaunt! Or some company I own does...either way.. I just have to sign for it!" Lysander ranted.
"Do they serve ghak?" Inquired the General.
"No. It's more of a Terran French-Theridian 'fusion' cuisine..." lysander nattered.
"I like ghak." Log growled.
"Me too." enthused the General.
=/\="Hey, at least I try to pick up the bill myself. And I don't try to force tongue down your throat unless you want it."=/\= James retorted back, =/\="And Lysander is still a better choice than... me?=/\=
"Yes." three voices in the KR-3400 cab answered him.
"Even Streeley would be." grunted one of them.
=/\="I didn't say that!" Lexa replied hotly, "I thought he might be nice... and sometimes he is... but he... I hate how he acts! So foolish! He's not that dumb. NO one is THAT dumb! And he wouldn't stop looking at me when I wore that dress! You know the one, the black dress you gave me.=/\=
"It was a smegging sexy dress." Lysander admittted.
"Did you want to bite her?" asked the General.
"Oh, rather!" admitted Lys.
"You do act dumb." grunted Log.
"errrr...." Lysander mumbled.
=/\="You let him see you in that!?! Damn, Lex! I still have dreams about you in that dress! Now he's going to... dammit!"=/\=
=/\=He couldn't stop looking at my cleavage! I hated that!=/\=
"Is her cleavage bitable?" queried the General.
"Very!" was the response from Log and Lys.
"You realize it is very dishonorable to stare at a potential mate's cleavage." The General stared daggers into Lysander.
=/\="Well... he is human!"=/\=
=/\="At least you showed some restraint."=/\=
=/\="Why thank you...anyways.. it was only dinner... and then after...=/\=
SPRRRAAAKKKKKKKKGGGLOOOPRRRRRRRPPPP!
+Your Generalship! We have lost the signal. The spy satellites range has been exceeded.+ the snickering Klingons on the com reported.
"You humans have odd courtship rituals. You should have bit her, to show your interest." The GEneral commented.
"I bit her! She was about to admit it!" Lys protested.
*****************
"But i'm still mad at you for Rebecca!" Lexa stated proudly, "I don't trust you with her!"
"Lex, we're not a couple anymore. Why do you care about it now?" James asked.
"Whoever is making that ticking noise, STOP it!" ordered Bhrode from the Gunnery platform.
"Aye Sir. I want to know... if you had a crush on her... or any women... while we were together." Lexa asked.
"Ummm... NO!" James replied, "I never! You were the only one for me until we decided it was time to quit! Watch out!" James pointed at the rock outcropping that loomed into view.
"Ok... fine." Lexa swerved around the rocks with a wrench of the wheel that showed she didn't believe a word he said.
"Do you believe me?"
"Yes I do." she replied through gritted teeth. In a VERY cold tone.
Somehow, James wasn't satisfied with a half sarcastic answer. "And... oh... sh*t on me."
James warily watched the big jukKa bird swoop overhead. It made a ear piercing screech that could have peeled the designation numbers off the Galaxy's hull, then swooped towards the Argos at a speed faster than the vehicle could travel.
"Ummm... sir? I think that's the momma bird over there!" James warned as the bird came closer.
"Of course it is!" Bhrode snapped. "Be glad it's not the mothers of all these women you keep seducing, Corgan! There'd be a swarm of them out here, all shrieking for our blood."
"A horde of mothers?" Lexa arched one eyebrow and avoided James' eyes again.
"Well... you see sir... GET DOWN!!!!!!" James yelled out a warning. The gigantic, two headed jukKa bird dive bombed at the ARGOS, its scything talons raking across the duranium roof of the ATV and missing the crewman's heads by mere centimeters. James finished, "Enough said!"
"That is IT! Override the silly half power rules. I'm going to blast that thing into tiny flaming cinders that used to be ugly assed scales..." Bhrode swore, reaching for the Dorsal Quad Mount Weapons controls, and swinging the transparent aluminum cuploa around, to sight the weapon mount at the bird, circling for another swoop.
"SIR! DON'T!" Corgan waved his arms in terror, "Lanjepi conservation laws! We kill the bird, the Klingons kill us! No exceptions! We have to stun it, and even then we have to make sure the bird doesn't crash land and hurt itself... or... the Klingons kill us."
"Kill them too..." Bhrode was growling, as the weapons mount controls came to life.
"AAACCCKKKK!!!!!" Lexa screamed. She veered the Argos to the right, taking her own evasive maneovers to avoid the jukKa bird's beaks from pecking the tires. The Argos stirred from side the side, the egg bumping noisily around Bhrode's feet, nobody able to get their balance straight. Strangely, the jukKa bird was flying in front of the ARGOS and assaulting it at the same time, "I didn't know... it could FLOAT LIKE A HUMMINGBIRD! Stop it now!"
"We paste it here and the ARGOS will turn it to street meat! We'll run over it" James snapped.
"You don't get rid of it, and i'll crash this thing into a tree... or something!" She stuttered angrily, "Just like you... James! Always trying to tell me what I should do!"
"You too?' Bhrode growled around the stub of his cigar.
"Not like it works either. Didn't I tell you Lysander is bad news? And what do you do?" James retorted.
"Shut up about that! I thought that discussion was over! SOmeone get that Bird!" Lexa yelled.
"Then at least hear me out once in awhile!"
"Ohhh!!!! You're impossible!"
"Likewise!"
"I... ooohhhh! Fine! What do I do?" Lexa caved, nearly begging for an answer.
"Move from side to side. Watch the birdie. Move as the bird attacks. Kinda like shuttle piloting." James advised.
"Not the Bird! about YOU! That's it!" Lexa yelled out in frustration, "The bird is going to... Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!"
The jukKa bird, with one powerful thrust of its beak, bashed the ARGOS' front windshield. The reinforced dura-plastic window spiderwebbed at the impact point, left of Lexa's head. Then, the second head whipped out and attacked the window, cracking passenger side windshield, aiming dangerously towards James' chest. The bird hideously howled and flew upwards to assault the vehicle's rear.
"Stings like a bee, too. Fine. Half power loads." Bhrode growled
"Sir! About that stunning blast, is it ready!?!?!" James yelled to the back.
*Tick* even James heard the noise this time.
"Takes time to pre-ignite the phaser cycle. You wanna come up here and tell me about it all Corgan? And stop that damned NOISE, will you?! " queried Bhrode with a scowl.
"Ensign Irwin advised me on animal captures. For birds, we should wait until they are low to the ground. When the bird comes to the level of the ARGOS, that should be the best time to fire!" James suggested.
"Screw him." Bhrode eyed the firing computer and depressed the stud for the phasers on the handles. The Bird was hit square on, and plummeted several meters to the ground.
*Tick*
"What the hell?" James remarked, hearing the scratching, ticking sound that Brhode complained about earlier. He heard another 'tick', then tuned his ears towards the direction of the sound. The 'ticking' was louder, more frequent, and he was getting closer. He climbed into the back of the ARGOS. It was coming from somewhere near the egg.
" Gotcha. Whatever the hell you are doing to make that noise, STOP it!" Bhrode snarled.
Correction, it was the egg! The silouette of a bird like creature was appearant as James shone the battle armor's flashlight on the hard, rainbowlike shell. The silouette's beak made controlled pecks at the shell. Its beak thrust forth, and hit the shell with a tiny 'tick'.
That blow showed the first crack in the egg's armored defences.
"Oh... sh*t!" Corgan screamed, "The motherf**king egg is HATCHING!"
"If it's female, dont' try and date it." Bhrode advised.
Lexa sniggered from the control cabin.
Behind them, the juKka Bird shook its double heads, and clawed at the ground with its razored talons. It shook the dust off its scaley hide and started sprinting after the ARGOS.
* * * * * * * * *
". . . and then the smeggers let loose some worms. IN the mud bath." Lysanader was nattering to the General. Through the open hatch, the smells and noises of the lan'Jepi wildnernes wafted into the KR-3400.
"Yes. taRn Worms. It is traditional. Although the spas are usually for women. And Wounded Warriors. My wives claim these here on lan'Jep are...suitable for offworlders." The General observed.
"Well.. smeg me, but they could warn a chappie. On my homeworld, we just soak in the mud. Not wrestle smegging poisonous worms." Lysander groused.
"How quaint." the General mused, stifling a yawn.
A bellow sounded through the open hatch of the KR-3400. An answering, sharp shout matched it. The bellow was repeated, louder.
The Generals nose wrinkled. "Tarrgoths!" he muttered in disgust.
Lysander shuddered again.
"Did I tell you about the Tarrg..." Lysander began again.
"Yes. Twice this week." the General cut the story off curtly.
The open ramp at the back of the hovercraft jiggled and shuddered and groaned. A sliding rasping noise intruded on the aural landscape.
A stench flooded the cabins of the KR-3400.
"[gack] Just the SCALE from under the chin!" gagged Lysander.
There was a pause, and then a wet, sucking, ripping sound from outside the idling craft's ramp. The ramp juggled again, under a heavy weight. Since it was designed to hold upwards of ten or so battle armoured Klingon Marines, the weight on it must have been enormous. The scraping noise was repeated. The ramp jiggled. The stench lessened.
"I hate Tarrgoths. My uncles used to come to a dude ranch here on lan'Jep and make me ride them, before my Naming." mused the General.
The scale flew into the cabin, easily the size of a coffee saucer, and hit the floor. It was oozing green ichor from one end.
Laughing Horse Log, encased in massive BattleArmour followed the scale up the ramp.
"You didn't kill it, did you? Wild Tarrgoths are..." the General began.
"No." Grunted the Indian.
"Pity." gagged Lysander, memories of a Tarrgoth Pup and several gallons of hiKklo fish oil still vivid in his mind after a year.
". . .endangered. The penalty for killing one is death." continued the General.
"I did't kill it." Log grunted.
"I wrestled a baby one. Once. Although it was tamed." Lysander offered.
Log grunted. It could have meant anything. MOST people took it to mean 'Shut up or suffer' but not Lysander.
"It was oiled." Lys added.
Grunt.
"So was I."
Grunt.
"Stinky smeggers."
Grunt. Grunt.
"How did you subdue it? The Tarrgoth wranglers usually flip them..." the General asked, interested.
"I flipped it. Mine. At the spa. It was a baby. And oiled." Lys interrupted.
"Didn't flip it." Log grunted.
"Hard to flip anything standing on six legs." Lysander observed.
"Didn't flip it." Log repeated.
"How did you get to the chin?" pressed the General.
Log grunted and flexed his massive shoulders. His head rolled on his mighty neck, the thick ropy muscles gleaming under the coppery skin.
"Just did" he grunted.
"I flipped mine. Then tickled its belly. Of course, I was just wrestling it, not taking it's chin scale." Lys offered.
"Didn't flip. Didn't tickle." Log grunted.
The ramp was closed and the whine of the anti-Grav engines pre-ignition filled the cabin.
"HOW DID YOU GET THE SCALE THEN?" Bellowed the General over the din.
"I punched it." Growled Log.
"WHAT?" Bellowed the General.
"Punched it. Unconscious." added Log after a split moment.
The General eyed Log's massive arms and grinned.
"Just the once?" he pressed.
"No. Had to hit it twice." replied Log, nudging the scale with the toe of his boots and scowling.
"Two punches..." admired the General.
"And the kick to the balls." added Log.
"You kicked a wild tarrgoth in the balls?" goggled the General.
"It was asleep." grunted Log.
"WHAT?" screamed Lysander over the Engine noise.
Grunt.
"Why did you wake it up?" demanded the General.
"Had to. To punch it." muttered Log darkly.
"Why were you dragging it into here?" pressed the General.
Log shrugged.
"You didn't kill it?" demanded the General.
"Not me." Log promised with a grunt, before closing his eyes and feigning sleep.
"But you didn't kill it, why bring it in here." pressed the General.
"Dunno." Log squinted through one eye, before closing it again.
"You didn't kill the Tarrgoth?" demanded the General.
"Not me." Log repeated.
"Because the scanners show it dead." pressed the General, pointing at the readout.
"Must be broken." Log grunted.
"You SURE you didn't kill it?"
"Yep. Kicked it. Punched it. Punched it again. That's all." Log grunted.
"It's not moving...and here come the ARGOS people..." Lysander nattered, watching the back scanners.
"Maybe the fall off that cliff killed it, though." Log mused, in a grunt.
"Cliff?" two voices asked Log, in unison.
"It fell off that cliff after I punched it." Log replied, looking shifty.
"The second time?"
"The first punch.It fell. It was trying to get up, so I punched it again. Then dragged it back here." Log answered.
"So it might be dead?"
Grunt.
"But.." the General began again.
"My people try to live in harmony with nature everywhere. To live as one with it and all other creatures. To respect all life as Brothers under the Great Suns. And it was a little cliff." answered Log, avoiding the question.
"That is nuts! You don't respect Raven!" Lysander exploded.
"Who?" scowled Log.
"Raven Darkstar? Your Brother?"
"I have no brother but those in Nature. Especially not Raven. It is a Manitoc tribe thing. You'd never understand. We respect our Brothers."
"By walking up to them, kicking them in the balls and then punching them out over a cliff?" quipped Lysander, shouting over the engine.
"Yes. Some brothers stink." replied Log levelly, closing his eyes again.
"Like Raven." he added moments later.
No one really had anything to say after that.
******************
=/\=Third objective!=/\= Boomed a Klingon officer's voice.
The crew of the ARGOS let out a collective groan. The jukKa bird's assault, and the tense moments watching the jukKa egg roll and crackle around in the ARGOS's floor, sapped the time they needed to find a wild Targgoth, much less take its scale and win the race.
It was down to this. A tiebreaker, a final obstacle that needed to be handled, lest the loser wanted to walk to the capital for the rest of the night (and most likely the next day). James was starting to feel the pressure, his confidence now hanging by a razor's edge. Lexa, always the worrier, was still holding onto the ARGOS' steering wheel in a death's grip.
Bhrode was at the Assault Ramp at the back, as it closed, watching the baby juKka bird sprint towards its mother. A rent and bleeding gash on his leg showed where the newly hatched bird had tried to nurse.
Bhrode eyed the other two and smiled.
"At least we got the first thing. They said 'egg' not 'baby' " Bhrode crowed. "This is getting fun!"
"Copy that, Objective leader. What do... we collect?" Lexa called.
----------------------
"Great leaders are almost always great simplifiers, who can cut through the argument, debate and doubt and offer a solution that everybody can understand." - Colin Powell.
-----------------------
"I grow weary of looking at that mudball." Captain Brhode uttered with disgust, from where he slumped in the captain's chair, his steely eyes locked upon the viewscreen before him.
His fingertips made a rythmic tapping sound against the armrest as he studied the glittering blue, green planet of Ianjep. The intensity of his "thousand yard stare" so severe, one would think he was expecting a full armada of Birds of Prey to decloak before him, weapons bristling.
Then suddenly, without warning Brhode stood up, hands clasped behind his back.
Painfully slow, those eyes that had onced been rivited to the image of the Klingon resort world Ianjep, began to survey the bridge. The officers manning thier station's held thier breaths, some even muttering prayers to thier dieties of choice as the old man's hawk-like gaze finally rested upn a freshly scrubbed Ensign at the tactical arch.
"You. Name." he ordered.
"W..W..Wil W..Wheaton, sir." the terrified youth stammered.
Brhode closed in, staring intently at the young man.
"You look like that snot nosed Crusher boy."
"T..that's what some people say, sir." he said doing his best not to urinate himself in fear. Something deep inside his brain told him the fastest way to the fabled frozen tundra of the Breen outpost would be by taking a leak upon the tactical arch.
Brhode continued to scowl.
"You chose tactical. Why is that? You looking for command of your own starship someday? Perhaps dreaming of rising through the ranks and one day sitting in my chair? Captain Wheaton, USS Galaxy. You like the way that sounds?" he asked relentlessly.
The Ensign paled. tiny little beads of sweat built up along his forehead and it took a herculean effort to keep himself from reaching up and wiping them away.
"Y..yes..I mean No..I mean..Not just yet.."
Brhode raised an eyebrow in such perfect manner that a Vulcan would be proud. "Yes? No? Maybe someday when I keel over dead? Ensign...one thing has suddenly become crystal clear to me...."
Ensign Wheaton closed his eyes and couldnt help but notice his life begining to pass by.
"It has become clear to me that you despratly need a lesson or two in command. Ding, ding. School is now in session." Brhode said crossing his arms across his chest. "Now pay attention...you are the Captain of the Federation's flagship. the grand lady of the fleet herself. Now you are moored on some Klingon run cesspool while your crew, on shore leave, swims around in all unspoken manner of Klingon depravity."
The Captain walked up the short ramp, untill he stood toe to to with the petrified Ensign."There is a whole universe out there in need of protecting and exploring and instead of spear headding that effort, your hull is collecting space dust. What do you do?"
"..I..I'm not..sir..I" Wheaton began before the gray haired Captain barked.
"SOUND OF, SON! THE FATE OF THE FREE UNIVERSE RESTS ON YOUR DESCISION! NOW MAN UP AND GIVE AN ORDER!!"
"I..I'd recall the crew to duty a..and set off again. Sir."
Brhode just stared at the boy.
A long uncomfortable silence hung thickly in the air. Nervousness made officer's skins crawl. Finally the old man cracked what appeared to be a smirk.
"YOU HEARD THE MAN!! OPEN A CHANNEL AND TELL EVERYONE PLANET SIDE THAT THE TRAIN PULLS AWAY IN ONE HOUR!! IF THEY ARE NOT ONBOARD, THEY'RE WALKING!"
A chous of 'aye sir' rang out as the bridge crew snapped into action. Captain Brhode turned to Ensign Wheaton.
"You made the right choice. Congratulations. Now get to work."
The young man nodded rapidly as brhode plopped back down in the Captain's chair, waiting for his ship to fill up again and set sail. Without even taking his attention off the screen, Brhode called out again.
"Captain Wheaton..you may breath now."
NRPG: OK, Kids! Move it or loose it. The order has officially gone out to get your butts back upon the ship. We set sail with my next post in approximatly 2 days so go ahead and wrapup those Ianjep story arcs and JPs.
Brianna was the last one off the runabout, opening her eyes she took a deep breath and looked down at her dog, Peckerwood. Who was sitting at her feet, proudly.
"Feels different being on a large ship, doesn't?" She said then knelt down and placed his leash on the color and then stepped off the transporter pad with the black Scottish Terrier following long behind her, wiggling his snipped tail. The red haired lass nodded to the transporter chief and then ventured out into the corridor. Stepping up to the wall unit she tapped her assignment order and asked for location of her quarters.
Smiling, she looked down at her dog. "Come on, Peckerwood, lets go find our new house." She said then started walking toward her quarters. Reaching a turbolift junction, she reached out and pressed the call button and waited. As she waited for it she nodded and acknowledged them as they passed. Once the doors opened she stepped inside and called out for her deck.
As the lift took off, Brianna knelt down and took the leash off of Packerwood and watched him prance around the turbolift proudly.
"Peter's right, you are a blue blood dog." She said grinning. Suddenly the doors opened and Packerwood bolted down the corridor. Brianna looked up and saw her small dog running hard down the corridor, standing up she took off after it.
"Peckerwood!! Stop!" "Peckerwood, I said stop damn it! You better run cause when I get you I gonna tear up that arse of your!!" Brianna said as she ran down the corridor after him.
As he listened to his father discuss what had been happening. Apparantly some of the other families had begun causing trouble within the council and he would need to go back to Zarahustra and deal with this mess.
When his combadge sounded. "Galaxy to all hands, Report back, to the vessel, general recall."
Charlamagne nodded, "As understood son, you must go."
"Yes father, keep me informed of how this develops, send word to the Galaxy."
"I will."
Rising up he bowed to his father, "Untill I hear from you I will serve..."
Then he left the ship for the Galaxy.
As he walked back on board his mind began to play out certian scenarios. How could he be affected, and how could he come out on top, would it involve betraying his father. Hopefully not but if he must to survive....
Then something slammed in to his leg. Looking down he saw a small dog that had slammed in to his highly polished boot. Reaching down he picked it up.
"Creature, running around Federation starships can be hazardious to your health." Staring at the creature he then said, "Now where is your owner ?"
Jack grunted as he hefted his belongings off the cold, grey floor of one of the Galaxy's docking bays. Techs immediately began buzzing around his loaned shuttlecraft probably to get it back up to specs before sending it back to Starfleet on autopilot. All he owned was slung over his shoulder in the form of a large, military grey duffel bag. The bag jutted out unevenly in places as right-angled belongings intermixed with clothing and uniforms. Before leaving the bay he glanced over his appearance in his reflection. They sure kept these consoles glossy. Captain must be quite the hardass. Good. Jack was pleasantly surprised that he managed to have on a halfway decent looking uniform. And hell, he even shaved.
Jack had scheduled appointments with all of the appropriate people... the list seemed to go on and on... the Captain, Sick Bay, some fool counselor or another, Major Log. Hopefully all of these meetings wouldn't disrupt his ability to get some peace and quiet down on lanJep. Or, at least, war and quiet. Of course, luck being what it is to Jack, no one was quite ready to seem him yet. In fact, when questioning the computer (which seemed to have about twice the personality as the average 'fleeter, in Jack's opinion) it became clear that nobody was quite sure were his quarters were at the moment.
A few muttered swear words later and Jack was lugging his stuff down the corridor heading towards the nearest turbolift. The ship had emptied out nicely since arriving at the planet. Hopefully he wouldn't get caught up in some damn fool conversation while trying to get settled in. Unless, of course, it was with someone mildly entertaining. So, basically, a marine. Valhoun began whistling 'The Minstrel Boy' as he walked into the turbolift, pausing only long enough to drop his stuff and bark a command at the computer. The lift began to hum as it shot through the decks. "Wait, wait, wait... Computer, Deck 16," said Jack, correcting himself. Sometimes the old brain fired on all synapses.
"Acknowledged, proceding."
"Finally, some signs of intelligent life," remarked Jack to no one in particular at the sight of the first marine uniform. The marine mess hall among other things was on this level and Jack was sure that he'd be able to get some information and maybe even rack out for an hour or two until the powers that be decided to throw him a bone. As he meandered down the hall he was given some strange looks by passing enlisted. ~Probably think I'm some idiot just out of drydock here to boss them around,~ he thought, smiling to himself, ~Hell, maybe they're right.~
Now, it was Jack's intention to turn towards the entrance to the marine mess and even to enter the marines mess. However, it was almost certainly not his intention to nearly hipcheck a Sergeant Major in the Starfleet Marine Corps. But, that's exactly what he did. It was only through fast reflexes on part of the SGM but also some inventive twisting of his own vertebrae that prevented disaster. Val could have apologized right then but, being himself and a little embarrassed he decided to shrug it off. "Afternoon, Sergeant Major," stated Jack as he threw down his bag onto a nearby table. His eyes did the stereotypical sweep of a woman's figure. He hoped it wasn't too obvious but it probably was. ~Damn, someone... blessed with that much... beauty and also a marine of that rank. She must be hardboiled. Twice.~
For her part, Betty carefully schooled the displeasure off her face, as she eyed the Leftenant. Such was the bane of the NCO's life, a new Junior Officer. Maybe this guy wouldn't get TOO many of her people killed, before he learnt the way the Universe worked.
She stifled the urge to annoy him, as he checked out her figure. Betty had to stifle that urge quite often. Annoying officers was more of a hobby to her. A Marine NCO really didn't have much to do with the Offficers. In the Marines, the Officers Commanded, but the NCO's Worked.
And Betty had earned the right to be an officer several times over. But she wouldn't take it.
~~Temper Temper Betty...~~ she chided herself, in an attempt to remain calm.
"Leftenant." she replied in what she hoped was a cool and calm voice, as she eyed the slopped stew and coffee on her mess tray in disgust. She cast a practiced eye over his bags and quickly deduced two things. The first was that he must be the Platoon Leader Major Log had asked Personnel for and that second was that she was not going to like this guy.
"Hey Gunny! There you are... Just like you told us, me and East field stripped all them plasma...oh... SIR!" the marine stiffened to attention, noticing the insignia on Jack's tunic, as he was in the midst of reporting to Betty.
"Dahlquist. Show this ....gentleman to his quarters." Betty ordered,, dumping her tray into the reclaimator chute with a sigh.
"As you were, marine. I've already checked with the computer and I haven't been assigned so much as a corner of a cargo bay. Shooting through red tape isn't like popping a few Jem'Hadar... takes a few more stripes than you have," replied Jack, pain quickly fading from Dahlquist's expression. That same pain transferred right over to Betty, it seemed as Jack turned his attention to Betty, "But you look like the type of person who doesn't really acknowledge red tape's existence, Gunny."
"Fine. Sir. I'm on it. Stupid OPS... " she snapped, with an edge to her voice that showed she did NOT think it was a good idea. She dropped the tray with a clatter and commandeered the nearest LCARS, tapping furiously on the keys. She found the time to be rolling her eyes at the enlisted Marine, though.
"Scat." she said to the enlisted man, moments later. . The relieved Marine scrambled off, to do whatever he had been about to do. Betty's ramrod straight posture positively reeked of professional pride and indignation.
"They put you under 'Lieutenant Calhoun' Stupid Nerps. Welcome to the 424th FIST. We muster Three infantry platoons plus a recon/HQ platoon. Ground and Air assault support and attached staff. Standard number of Marines per platoon. Major Log is the CO. Sub Major Phoole is the unit XO." she recited in her clear voice, as she stomped through the decks like she owned them. Most of the Marines saw Betty, and got out of her way fast.
"Fine, fine... that was all in my briefing," said Jack, nearly cutting the woman off. The information was standard and nothing very informative. The usual canned speech. "Listen," stated the officer stopping in mid-stride, "I'm Jack Valhoun, and you are?"
Betty's mind whirled under the neatly braided black hair. Her blue eyes searched out Jack and swept him from head to toes again, something unreadable on her face. "I've heard about you." she stated non-commitally, her appraising glance now deeper than it was before. It was on her face that she hadn't heard much good.
"Yes, well..." Jack sighed audibly, the memories of the past few years weren't the most pleasent. "I haven't heard about you, so you have me at a disadvantage."
Betty blinked her blue eyes. While not boastfull, she was pretty sure half the Fleet and ALL the Corps had known about her tete-de-tete with the Field Marshall after they'd pinned the Medal of Honor on her and tried to send her to the Academy.
~~ like I'd go...~~ she mused.
It is not every Sergeant who can call her Supreme Commanding Officer a "egg sucking, ear slittted sonnava buzzard" and demand she NOT be promoted. Except one who'd helped with the ODDESSY survivors and held the 'Last Stand' there without reinforcements, in what had been clearlya suicide mission.
*For Courage Above and Beyond the Call of Duty... At Clear and Present Danger to Life..." The citation had been rife with phrases to that effect. It still made her squirm, remembering the days after they'd pulled her and the remnants of her squad out. She'd rather be back shooting Jem'Hadar than dressed up and in front of the Cameras with Politicians grinning. Too many people had died for her to feel anything but disgust. But at least all those Nerps had made it too.
"I been around." she mumbled, flushing at the thought that this guy didn't know what the mess of rockers on her rank insignea meant.
~~Stupid medal...stupid promotion. I should have found a cave and never volunteered.~~ she mentally cursed for about the Eight Millionth time.
"Master Gunnery Sergeant Major Goldstein. Pleasedtomeetchasir." she mumbled, avoiding his eye. He was sure to eventually remember where he knew her name from. That, or listen to one of his booze soaked friends. Scuttlebutt had conflicting opinions of this guy.
And Betty DID love scuttlebutt.
"Now, Sergeant Major Goldstein, you can give that same half-assed speech to every 'fleeter that walks these corridors and do so with my blessing which, granted, means very little to you. But that really doesn't tell me anything." Jack squinted as he scratched at his jaw, thinking for a moment. "Show me your hands. Come on, come on, just do it. Don't look at me as if you've just caught me in bed with your husband and your pet dog."
Betty's eyes sparked dangerously. A lifetime in the Corps had only sharpened her usually feisty demeanor. Any one of her older brothers would have walked away from the flinty look after looong experience with it. Most of the Marines who'd served with under her also had seen this look before, and they too avoided it when possible. But on duty, she was nothing but professional. At least in sight of an officer.
"As you wish." she said precisely timing the microseconds before adding the "Sir" to her reply, so as to convey maximum un-amusement.
She stretched out her hands. Callouses were a thing of the past for most Federation members due to medical science. Except Federation Starfleet Marines. Betty's hands, while dainty and small, looked hard enough to crack Thoridian IronOak with.
"I don't have a dog.": she admitted, feeling foolish.
Valhoun studied the woman's hands closely as he took them in his. They were small, but muscular with abrasions and callouses earned through years of continuing hard work. They weren't the hands of a desk jockey. Hell, they kinda looked like his. Betty clearly had a direct hand in making sure things got done, not just supervising. Some NCOs rested on their laurels and their sections suffered. Clearly this wasn't the case here. Jack could guess, and did, that the marines were squared away, "Everything here is up to spec or running as efficiently as the situation allows. Any worries or fears I had about the quality of the leadership here were unfounded. The marines here are in good hands."
Betty appraised him again. "That is Major Log's work. He came up in Recon." she added. The phrase "Is Recon" explained to Marines that the appellant was a member of the Famed Recon Units. The Uber-Marine Marines. So Gung Ho they usually had to be kept in cages, according to Fleet Whispers and Scuttlebutt.
At the expression on Valhouns' face, she wondered if he had been Recon himself. He didn't even blink.
"Ah, those reccy bastards. Tough SOBs. Sometimes wired a bit too tight and could use a drink or three to calm down in my opinion, but hell, no one's perfect. Well, at least I'm not... except in certain areas, o'course. Like bed and such."
Betty met his eyes unblinkingly.
~~did he know? I haven't hinted to anyone about the Major... ~~ she mused, studying the man before her.
"I wouldn't know about the Major in bed. Sir." She intoned in her most level voice. "You are the same Jack Valhoun who pissed off the entire Brass of the Third Fleet and Regiment . Aren't you?" she demanded , to change the topic.
"I was actually referring to mys... ah, nevermind." Bad jokes are best left undisturbed.
"As for the other thing, I just did what I had to do. The consequences were beyond my control. And that Admiral's jaw was made of glass. I couldn't foresee every outcome, ya know. I'm no fortune teller." It was just Jack's luck that a simple punch in the face would turn into so much controversy. And blood. But mostly controversy.
For the first time, Betty smiled.
"Any officer who the others hate is okay in my books. Sir. Come on, let's get you squared away and fed." She replied, for the first time losing a bit of the edge she habitually displayed to strangers.
She still couldn't get the idea of a nude Laughing Horse Log, in her bed ; out fo her head however.
"Yes, that's a fine idea." Come to think of it, he hadn't eaten in about 7 hours. And the various fermentations of grains probably didn't count towards a well balanced meal.
She looked down at the slight stain of stew marring her uniform, with a frown. Great. Another drunk. Memories of her father, drunk and ranting in their cramped mining colony quarters flitted through her mind.
Catching the woman's glance, Jack looked down too. Unfortunately, being an idiot, his gaze lingered once again on a certain part of Betty's anatomy. Alright, he looked but it was only because she did first. I mean, it is her fault. That, anyway, was what Jack thought and he made his opinion vocal, "Alright, you did that on purpose, didn't you?"
Betty's eyes met his again, in a gaze that seemed level, despite their difference in heights.
"Did what, Sir?" she deadpanned, knowing he'd never admit he'd been staring at her bust.
Several long moments of silence followed, and Valhoun seemed to look for an answer. He finally shrugged in defeat. ~Men!~ she added mentally.
"May I suggest the Officer's Mess? The Nerps...err... Our Naval Brethren would no doubt like to see what a true Black Sheep looks like." She added teasingly.
~~And you can run into one of them. Kluttzy drunk.~~ she added mentally. To the everpresent 'To DO" list in her mind, she added 'stock up on Kill Joy Pills' just in case the rumours about Valhoun's taste for non-Synthhol beverages ever meant he'd need one of the alcohol suppressant pills.
Jack smiled, "I suppose that even those Navy-types deserve a look a greatness." His tone was clearly self-mocking as he would never seriously say anything of that sort about himself. But, it was fun to get under the skin of the 'fleeters every once and again. Kept them on their toes, afterall.
Betty had to smile at that. She'd gotten into her share of hot water before.. and if you could smile at being scalded... there might be hope for you after all.
"I don't suppose you'd like to punch Admiral DeMarceau or Admiral Hoth for me, would you?" she asked, only half teasing.
Valhoun shrugged, "I can see what I can do. What did they do that deserves my retribution? Aside from being an Admiral, of course." Come to think of it, there weren't too many admirals that Jack didn't want to punch in the face. Or kick in the ribs. Weird how such a large group could contain such a high percentage of semi-retarded, half-evolved monkeys.
"I caught them in bed with my dog. Isn't that enough?" she teased.
Noting the reflective look on his face, she wondered if she hadn't crossed one of her famous lines.
"I was kidding." she felt the need to add.
"Oh, I wasn't insulted... it's just that I thought you didn't have a dog right now. Or, in a fit of passion, did the said Admirals see fit to smuggle the dog away to Risa so they could live happily ever after? Or maybe you got rid of the dog after he chewed up your medal." Apparently Jack did hear something about the woman, despite what he had said earlier. Or maybe his memory just decided to work once again.
Betty whirled to face him, her usually placid face scarlet. "Leave that damned medal out of this. I never wanted the damn thing, all I did was my job." she growled. 'Let's just say I don't like the two of them under normal circumstances. When two opposites like that team up and start playing footsies under the table, I like them a lot less."
She looked him over again from head to toe.
"I would have thought the GREAT Jack Valhoun would enjoy the political games even less than I do. Isn't that why you've spent the better part of your career trying to get yourself court-martialed? Or did your time behind a desk make you soft? " she demanded, her finger poking into his chest with each word.
"But something is going on in Starfleet. Something BIG. You're blind if you don't see it. And I'll be damned in any of MY MARINES get hurt because of it." She growled, turning her back on him and swaying her ass with more vigor than was necessary.
"You haven't cut loose any of your marines yet, have you? It certainly doesn't look like the 'fleeters wasted any time beaming down. I'm looking forward to going down myself. Klingons, alcohol, ferengi traders. A veritable goldmine of fun. Don't you agree? At any rate, it would look poor of me to be lounging around planetside while the enlisted guys worked their asses off on the ship. So, when do you think they'll get leave?"
Betty stopped and stared at him with total disbelief. She shook herself and drew in a breath.
"Major Log is down at the Embassy right now, picking up new equipment. I have a squad detailed to Disruptor Refresher training at some civilian range outside lan'Jep city, that I'm taking down in an hour. Half the Fleeties on the ship are playing grabass on vacation. But I'm not a Fleetie. I'm Corps. So if you want to continue feeling sorry for yourself, fell free to drink yourself stupider. It IS your perogative. You made your bed, now either wallow in it some, or get the hell out of it and salvage yourself."
Her ice blue eyes met his levelly.
"Maybe that was unfair of me to say. Maybe even insubordinate. But you have a reputation, Leftenant Valhoun. And it isn't good. You know that and I know that. And until I know if you're in my way, or helping me, I'm gonna assume you're in my way. Because in THIS state, you sure aren't helping me," she promised.
Jack erupted in laughter that was more pain then pleasure, "You don't understand at all. You say that you'll be damned if any of your marines get hurt because of some damn fool Admiral's personal games. Well, I AM damned because I HAVE lost marines for that very reason. Trust me, while I breathe no more of my marines will not be the pawns of some idiot who couldn't poor piss out of a boot even if instructions were written on the heel."
Betty blinked in shock. She visibly rolled back. The idea of Marines getting HURT caused her teeth to bare in a rictus of hate. While she understood where this guy was coming from, she never understood why ones like him kept FIGHTING the system head on. Before she could open her mouth, he plowed onwards. "Inability to shut his mouth" was one of the things she remembered from Valhoun's personnel file.
Well, while he was on a roll he may as well go all the way, "And, you have precious little right to lecture me. Miss Why'd-I-Get-Promoted-And-Rewarded-When-All-My-Friends-Died. That was the emotion you were going for, right? You don't fool me, your nights are just as haunted as mine. The only difference between us is that I don't whine, "Why me?" and then get angry at the person I just confided with. No one wants to see your pain. It's disgusting. I have so many scars that won't ever heal but they can only cause pain. And my pain doesn't matter, it is just a ghost, a phantom. It doesn't exist. Do you know what your pain does to you, though? Just a moment ago, when I brought up that damn medal, it turned you into a confused little girl. "
"Little girl...?" Betty mouthed the words and glared. at a loss for words because this guy had just hit her nail right on the head. She shrugged and took a deep breath.
~~Let it go, Betts. Let it go~~ she told herself.
"Here's your quarters. Per Captain Bhrode's orders, you must check and register all personal weapons with the Security Nerps in the Armoury. I'll tell Major Log that you are here. Enjoy." she whirled, ready to stalk off.
"That's odd, I thought that I to dismiss you. I mean, the regs may have changed recently but I always assumed that, me outranking you and all, that you vanished when I told you to vanish." Jack would be damned if he didn't get the last word in. "Oh, and you used up your get-out-of-jail-free card. If you ever act disrespectful towards me again we'll both lose some teeth."
Betty stopped and looked back over her shoulder. "Thank you sir. You're right. And you're wrong. You haven't reported in officially to Major Log, so you're not officially in the FIST Table of Staff. Therefore, I'm not under your command. Yet. You're welcome, for helping you though. Lieutenant Calhoun, wasn't it? And you were right, we would both loose some teeth." She added over the other shoulder, before flouncing off.
~~THAT guy is more annoying than Kreighoff and Corgan rolled up together.~~ she mused.
Jack pressed the console near the entrance. "I don't know what I did to deserve her but apparently I did something right in a past life. She's gonna save my career, maybe more," thought Jack to himself. Or he thought he thought that to himself. In actuality he said the words aloud but, in typical fashion, didn't realize it until far, far too late. Well, maybe she didn't hear him, he reassured himself. Maybe.
The jungle was all coming back to him.
It was a perfect meditation. A state that both lulled the user, and kept his focus, reflexes, and senses at peak efficiency. Every little sense was amplified by his heightened awareness of his current surroundings. He could feel everything that was around him. The thrumming of the idle warp engines as their resonance created minute vibrations on the hull, the buzzing of equipment as electricity was constantly fed to them, the hum of lights in illuminated halls, the timed ‘thump thump’ of feet coursing through the hallways, and the sliding swish of doors that opened and closed….
…The smell of damp earth, the sting of insects, the feeling of rain trickling down his skin, marring his perfectly applied camouflage, and the distant whistle of photon mortars and phaser fire.
This was his home, his environment, and he was the king of this jungle. A tiger, stalking the woods for prey.
More correctly, a prey that had four legs, and one very broad, flat back.
“Those Jem’Hadar scum will pay for taking the captain’s desk.” Marsh muttered darkly to himself, wiping off a ‘trickle’ of rain from his forehead.
He could sense it. The desk was nearby. Those filthy Jem’Hadar! They would do anything to demoralize the crew. Cause dissention in the ranks, turn security into an aimless entity that didn’t know exactly where to start on the search. But he knew. He was a shining exception of efficiency, accuracy, and deadliness. He was the baddest piece of business on this side of the front! That desk… was as good as his.
He heard the swishing sound of a door, preceded by the hum of a turbolift.
*Creak* A floorboard whispered from an intersection in the hall, bewildering the jungle stalker. As far as he recalled, there were no grav plates in the jungle. Then he was right! The Jem’Hadar were near, and not only that, they were stupid enough to reveal their base! And it was underground no less! Possibly top secret!
Patiently, Marsh flattened himself to the wall, dropping his rifle. He slid out a combat knife from a scabbard in his combat webbing, and waited to give the Jem’Hadar sentry the surprise of his short life…
“This sucks.” O’Rourke complained passionately, “First, engineering can’t fix our damn sensors. Then… oh I can’t believe how much this sucks… the Captain’s desk is stolen… right from under our noses! What else could possibly go wrong?”
“I don’t know ma’am.” Lieutenant E’xch impatiently answered, “And frankly, I don’t care.”
Most times, Lieutenant E’xch was usually the one who was willing to talk to his fellow crewmates. There wasn’t a moment that he wasn’t ready to start one of his ripping conversations about news events of the day (no matter how irrelevant), start a debate on the virtues of… anything (right or wrong, on any subject), or try to explain a topic that only his expertise and time honored experience could pick up (even if he was making it up).
However, it was Lieutenant O’Rourke that was monopolizing the conversation, and that annoyed E’xch to no end. For one, since when did O’Rourke consider herself the leader of their small and somewhat crudely knit together group? E’xch knew it in his heart that he was the heart and soul of the group, much less the unofficial leader, expert, advice giver, and overall go-to person. If he wanted to talk shop about Federation Law (which he thought Lieutenant O’Rourke was a hack that deserved to do hospital ship chasing rather than be behind a security desk), he would go to Lieutenant O’Rourke and dazzle her with his expertise. And if she wanted to join his polygamous circle, he wouldn’t mind that either. But for now, she was talking about the situation, and E’xch didn’t care.
“Come on, E’xch. Take this seriously.” O’Rourke sighed. The extent of E’xch borderline incompetence at anything was only offset by the fact that he does have general knowledge of anything was the only reason why she kept the Denobulan chatterbox on her team, and even then, she kept E’xch with her because of fear that E’xch would do something wrong on her own. But it didn’t matter. O’Rourke was fretting enough about the situation out loud to counter E’xch’s verbal output.
Both, as a result, were annoyed at each other.
“I know it’s serious, Lieutenant.” E’xch groaned, “And trust me, I’ll find that desk. Before you know it, I will have found it, and the captain will promote me to Lieutenant Commander while you people are searching.”
“And I’ll become Chief JAG in a week.” O’Rourke sarcastically answered.
“Well… whatever. I’ll find that desk, but in order for me to find it, you must let me search on my own!” E’xch pleaded.
O’Rourke snappily answered, “For the last time, no! You’re with me, like it or lump it!”
“Fine.” E’xch grumbled, “But don’t expect to find that desk with me tethered to you. With the limitations you have on searching anyways, we’ll never find the desk before alpha shift. We should try my suggestion before that desk is gone for good.”
”For the last time, those limits aren’t my fault!” O’Rourke tried to explain herself, “We can’t just issue a general warrant to all crew quarters without any proof of who stole the desk. That would be a violation of sentient rights, which you should know if you’re such a big hot shot on Federation Law!”
“I know Federation Law!” E’xch snapped, “And I know what Brhode will do to us if we don’t find his desk!”
“Look… I don’t care yet what Brhode will do. All I want to do is find the desk and be gone, ok? So let’s concentrate on finding the desk.”
”Ok. I agree. First the desk, then Brhode… and then… the promotion…”
”Shut up about the promotion.” O’Rourke sighed hopelessly.
“Ok, sir.”
Punching the button to the turbolift, O’Rourke then waited one moment, then walked in as the sliding doors parted to the small capsulated elevator. E’xch scampered in with her, closed the door, and set the turbolift for deck 3.
“O’Rourke?” Exch asked.
“Yes?” She wearily answered.
“I was wondering… why don’t I get any respect?”
The loaded question stunned her. She didn’t know how to respond, much less in a way that wouldn’t damage E’xch’s fragile ego (though he would say different to other people).
She answered, while swallowing her tongue, “I don’t know. Euugggg… Honestly.”
“Oh, ok. Sometimes… I feel like nobody acknowledges me, you know what I mean? My talents are not being appreciated enough, that’s all.” E’xch whined, “What can I do about it?”
”I don’t know… I just don’t know.” O’Rourke then changed the subject, “Please, lets get to the storage bay on deck five before Marsh gets to it.”
T’lan felt good to be back in her old position. For some reason, she didn’t feel comfortable being back on Vulcan. It was an emergency trip, brought on by sudden trauma from the Defiant. Involving neural surgeons, logicians, psychiatrists, and the Vulcan priesthood, they managed to piece together what was left of her wilted psyche and make something of a Vulcan out of the remainder.
On Vulcan, there was a very narrowly defined version of normal, logical behavior. Years of living with aliens, and a couple of instances where she suffered some psychological trauma, and gathering strange customs and hobbies had left her somewhat alienated from her family (all straight laced scientists, logicians, and other Vulcan approved vocations).
It felt good to be back on the ship, where being strange and out of place was not a hinderance. In fact, she enjoyed interacting with other alien species on the Galaxy rather than talking to her fellow Vulcans. The transporter officer she was talking to was a charming person, a roguishly handsome terran with a peculiar Antarian accent.
“All I can tell you is the thief didn’t use our transporters… per se.” Ensign Osbourne explained, “But they did use a transporter system of some sort, and used some sort of link to go between the transporter and the desk. Currently, we are still looking for anomalies in our own system to indicate use of our transporters, but nothing so far. Come back in a couple of hours, and I can tell you for sure.”
“I appreciate any assistance, Ensign.” T’lan thanked the young man as the turbolift opened. Both officers exited, walking in separate directions. Only one bothered to glance back, and it wasn’t Ensign Osbourne.
~”The search is going nowhere.”~ T’lan mused, ~”It would be illogical to continue at this point. I better tell O’Rourke I found nothing in the transporters.”~
“DIE, JEM’HADAR SCUM!!!!!”
A camouflaged figure darted out of the corner of the corridor, a large combat knife glinting meanly like a darting tongue of quicksilver. It was a flash of silver, green, gray, yellow and black speeding towards the flatfooted Vulcan security officer.
True to Vulcan nature, her hand was much quicker, and had a hold of the assailant’s shoulder. The camouflaged psycho dead weight crumpled on the floor fast.
“Marsh?” T’lan raised a curious eyebrow. “That was most illogical.”
“I could say the same thing about you, T’lan.” O’Rourke materialized from behind, scolding the Vulcan officer with a tone that didn’t want to take any more trouble.
“A Vulcan nerve pinch on a borderline psychotic. Very impressive.” E’xch clapped jokingly.
T’lan looked down and closely inspected the peacefully snoozing body. It was indeed Lieutenant Marsh, decorated in a lurid pattern of greens and blacks, without a single patch of pink skin to show. He cradled his phaser rifle and combat knife like a teddy bear, shifting his weight to one side, murmuring, and tucking himself in a fetal position.
“I assume Marsh has not found what we are looking for.” T’lan addressed her comrades stoically.
“That’s right, or else he wouldn’t be mugging people for it.” E’xch snidely remarked.
“That’s enough, E’xch.” O’Rourke punched the Denobulan on the shoulder. He winced in offence, but slunk back like a cowardly beast, “Any luck from the transporter nerds?”
“They are not… nerds as you point out.” T’lan defended, “They are knowledgeable people, and they do not yet possess the answers we seek.”
O’Rourke cursed, “Oh, dammit! We searched this ship for hours, asked for help from the Lanjepi authorities until it felt like we were pulling teeth, and still nothing? Great! Say goodbye to the Galaxy, because we’re going on the Brhode boot express to Breen!”
“In other words… all of our options have been exhausted.” T’lan bemoaned.
“For once, somebody has the right answer.” O’Rourke groaned.
“Ummm… guys?” E’xch peeped. His hand was impatiently raised, bobbing up and down for attention. He was standing on his toes to help get himself noticed, and the effort finally paid off. T’lan and O’Rourke faced their Denobulan counterparts with disdain and desperation.
“What, E’xch?” Shelly O’Rourke asked.
“I think if we can’t find the desk… we should replace it.” E’xch suggested.
Immediately, O’Rourke blew up in E’xch’s face. “Are you nuts?!?” She wailed, “We’ll be in deep trouble if anyone finds out! And where are we going to find a captain’s desk at this hour?”
“I’d rather take my chances here than on Breen. How about you?” E’xch argued.
“His logical is impeccable.” T’lan agreed.
Flustered and red faced, O’Rourke didn’t want to cave. But the thought of practicing Federation Law on Breen didn’t appeal to her. She surrendered. “Where do we get it?”
“I know just the place.” E’xch suggested, “However, it will cost us.”
”How much?” O’Rourke asked.
“I don’t know, but follow me to the Promenade.” E’xch waved for them to follow. T’lan and O’Rourke followed, leaving the sleeping Marsh behind…
Until O’Rourke remembered what happened to the Dominion War Veteran. “T’lan… don’t leave Marsh in the middle of the hallway. Wake him up… or carry him. The last thing we need is more trouble.”
Effortlessly, T’lan walked backwards, than hefted the human onto her back with practiced ease and Vulcan strength. Then, the odd party continued their journey to the Promenade.
Brianna hurried down the corridor still calling after her dog, "Peckerwood..." She said as she rounded a corner and saw a rather large built man standing there holding her dog. "What did you do?" She asked as she walked up and then looked at the man. "I'm sorry, he got away from me." Anna said then smiled.
"You would be wise to control your animal better, vessels are no place for roaming pets." Saladin stated to her without even raising an eyebrow, the Nietzchean officer handed the dog over.
Taking her dog under her arm she frowned. "I'm sorry, again." Brianna said. "I wasn't aware that he ruined your day." She replied then started around him to go on to her quarters.
"No he didn't but he could have been injured, and I believe you wouldn't like that."
"Un-huh." Brianna replied. "I'm Lt. Brianna O'Shea, soon to be Chief Engineer of this ship." She said holding out her hand. "Might I inquire who you are?"
He extended his hand, "Major Saladin Bolivar, chief of intelligance and Liason from the Nietzchean confederation."
"Why does that confrederation sound familure?" Brianna asked withdrawing her hand. "I know I've heard that before." She said then hooked the leash on Peckerwood and sat him down on the floor. "Major.. so you the CO of the marines?"
"No, I am chief of intelligance." He looked at her, "my rank is from my home, I am a Lancer officer."
Brianna bit her tongue so she wouldn't laugh, a man chief of intelligence, now that was funny. "So your Intell, who on this ship is the trouble makers and who do I need to watch out for?" Brianna asked.
"Troublemakers, there are many on this ship. However the true troublemakers are not visible." He raised an eyebrow. "Federation rules do not allow the same matter of survey that I would normally have on crew."
Brianna nodded. "I'm sure you know all about me then, don't you?" She said as she pulled the dog away from a passing officer. "sit!" She said, then smiled when the dog complied.
He shook his head, "No, I have not." He examined the creature, "he seems to be more obedient."
"He is when wants to be, thinks he is king of everything. His name is Peckerwood." She said then smiled down at the Scottish Terrier. "I should let you go, I'm sure your busy."
"I do have some work to prepare for the next mission. I don't know what captain Bhrode has in store."
"I need to find my quarters and report in, perhaps we'll talk again later on." Brianna said walking around him and then starting down the corriodor.
"Perhaps." was all he said. Then they walked their sepearte ways.
****
"Okay, I haven't told them what you know - just that you served with this weasel," Victor explained as he and Jeremy entered the club. "I apologize if that wasn't fair to you, but I didn't want to get them worked up before the fact - they can get a little excitable if they try."
"They should be... ah, there they are." Victor pointed to a table in the corner, giving Jeremy his first look at his aunts.
Both women stood up as they saw the two men enter the room, the shorter one waving. They were younger than expected, no older than Victor himself, very attractive - and Andorian.
"Over here, Heinrich," the shorter one called out, her long hair swinging in a loose, casual braid. "We saved..."
"...you some of the pinute dip," the taller one finished so seamlessly it appeared they shared a mind. "We know how much..."
"...you like it."
Victor paused at the table to make introductions. "Lieutenant, these are my aunts, Rexa and Ar'resh." Rexa turned out to be the taller woman with shoulder-length hair, and Ar'resh the shorter one with the waist-length braid. "Ladies, this is Lieutenant Jeremy Savoie, he's the man I told you about who served with Greta's new boyfriend."
Putting forth his best manners, Jeremy extended his hand to Ar'resh first. "Nice to meet you," he murmured in a voice that hinted of a slightly husky tone. "Wish I had aunts that looked like that," he muttered over his shoulder so only Victor would hear. He re-focused his attention to the ladies. "Enjoying your stay on sunny lanJep?" he teased.
"Oh yes," Ar'resh shook his hand warmly, passing it to her sister, who had a slightly crisper but still friendly grasp. "We haven't met many of our Heinrich's shipmates yet, but the ones we have met were all."
".very nice," Rexa continued. "We have hopes that we can convince that nice young Ella Grey from Engineering that she and our Heinrich would be."
Victor's hands tightened on the top of his chair, knuckles white.
".so good together that it would take both their breaths away. It's been such a long time since Heinrich was in a proper relationship that we're worried about him."
Victor coughed. "Ahhh. maybe we can talk about me later? This is really so you can get to know something about Greta's new beau."
"Oh, of course," Rexa nodded, settling back into her chair and setting off a wave of similar motion around the table. "Our Heinrich tells us you've served with Lt. Commander Riordan before, Lieutenant?
"Oh that will never do!" Ar'resh sighed. May we call you Jeremy? 'Lieutenant seems so stuffy and formal."
"By all means," he replied. Taking a seat at their table, Jeremy grinned mischievously. "So you ladies are helping your unfortunate little nephew with his love life, eh? Sounds like a tough job when you can't be on the same ship as him. And how do you find the time? Surely your own love lives must be pretty time-consuming," he said, gesturing to a solid-looking Klingon barmaid for a drink.
For a moment, the two women's expressions were genuinely sad, and a palpable sense of loss filled the air. Ar'resh reached out and took her sister's hand. "Not since we lost our husbands in the War," she explained.
Rexa nodded. "We do miss them so." She looked at her sister and smiled sadly. "Especially on nights like tonight."
~Oh no. ~ Victor swallowed the mouthful of pinute dip he'd scooped up with a chip. ~ I'd better get this back on track before they get any more depressed. ~ "When I mentioned that I thought you'd served with Riordan, they were dying to talk to you," he interjected to Jeremy.
"Oh yes," Ar'resh brightened, but didn't release her sister's hand. "Our Greta sounded so happy with him, we were just."
".dying to find out all we could about her young man. And then our Heinrich mentioned that he thought you'd mentioned him before."
".and we just had to talk to you." Ar'resh smiled, some of the sadness leaving her eyes. "Where did you meet him?"
"Have you known him long?"
"What's he like?"
"Ladies," Victor interceded gently. "Slow down, please. One question at a time so he can answer, all right?"
"Oh," Rexa sighed, we're.
"sorry," Ar'resh finished. "Forgive us."
".please? We're just so excited to."
".meet someone that can answer our questions about him."
"No need to apologize," Jeremy replied, shooting Victor a look of silent thanks for having been rescued from his unintended faux pas. "We were hardly the best of friends," he continued, trying to keep the negative tone in his voice minimal, "but I'll be glad to answer any questions I can."
"What will you have?" the barmaid queried upon arriving at the table. Klingons had such a way for making customer service sound oddly accusatory.
"A Andorian stout. The traditional kind, nothing fancy." Jeremy then looked to the others to see if they wanted anything.
"Coffee," Victor requested. "Black. No sugar."
"We'll have another round of."
".these," the sisters chorused, pointing to the bottles of imported Terran German dark beer that sat next to their almost empty glasses.
"And another pinute dip," Ar'resh added after eyeing the remains of the appetizer that rested in the center of the table.
"With more chips," Rexa added.
The Klingon grunted and left to fill the orders, leaving everyone looking at one another for a moment. "So," Ar'resh said brightly, totally skipping past the point of the conversation, "have you known our Heinrich long? He's such a dear, but he does forget to call and let us know everything that's happening."
".in his life at times." Rexa smiled, sneaking a chip and scooping up some of the remaining dip. "We scold him of course, but he always seems to forget anyway. I think he really."
".does it just to make sure that we pay attention to him," Ar'resh finished. "He's very lonely, you know."
Caught in mid-bite by the change in topic, Victor finished the dip-laden chip in his mouth resignedly. "That's enough about me for now, you can pester Jeremy for stories later." The glance he gave Jeremy suggested that if Victor could help it, 'later' would arrive shortly after the energy death of the universe. "You served with Flint on the Farragut, right?" he prompted.
"Yep, knew 'im for three years," he replied, taking another swallow of the dark Andorian stout. Then, turning toward the aunts, he added in a thickly facetious tone, "Three -wonderful- years."
"Oh dear," Ar'resh frowned, "that doesn't."
".sound very promising, Jeremy." Rexa leaned forward. "You didn't find him."
".to be an agreeable sort?"
"Pardon me for being so direct, ladies, but the guy is a completely self-serving ass. If it were -my- niece, I wouldn't let the creep within a parsec of her."
~ I guess 'polite' has now gone out the window. ~ Victor glanced at Jeremy. ~ At least it's hard to argue with someone that believes as strongly as he does - too much of himself shows through the words. ~
The women looked at one another, their frowns still present - then turned in unison and looked at Victor.
"Heinrich.?" Rexa raised an eyebrow.
Victor shook his head. "I checked, and the Lieutenant is the only person aboard the Galaxy that served with Riordan. He says what he says - I didn't put him up to anything."
"I believe you, dear one," Ar'resh took Victor's hand. "You wouldn't."
"do something like that," Rexa agreed.
The women turned back to Jeremy, curiously. "What can you tell us about."
".this self-serving ass?" Ar'resh finished, the two leaning forward as one. "You're certain that it might not be."
".a personality conflict between the two of you?"
Savoie smirked slightly at the suggestion. "I'll admit I'm not always the easiest person in the galaxy to get along with but Riordan had it out for me before we really even had a chance to know each other. And it wasn't just me." Jeremy took another swig of his stout and leaned into the center of the table. "The guy had one goal: to climb his way up the promotion ladder, making sure that anyone he thought could get in the way didn't. I was only one of several he had it out for. I know of two others who served with him who got out of Ops on the Farragut because of him. One switched departments, the other transferred to another ship; both of them had been under disciplinary action based on false accusations from Riordan. Unfortunately, he had the XO so convinced that he could do no wrong, the accusations stuck."
Jeremy leaned back in his chair again. Just thinking about the slimeball again pissed him off.
"When our assistant chief accepted the Chief of Ops position on another ship, Riordan and I were the next senior-ranking officers in the department. I didn't want to be in that department at all, let alone assistant chief. Besides, the whole reason I was moved to Ops in the first place was because the chief helmsman and I had a falling out; I sure as hell wasn't going to get the position. But he wanted to make absolutely sure it didn't happen, so he started reporting every word that came out of my mouth to the XO, the department chief, and anyone else who would listen. Suffice it to say that my situation on that ship went from bad to worse, until I finally got a transfer myself." Swallowing more of the stout, Jeremy directed his gaze to the side for a moment, preferring that Victor's aunts not see the anger that shone clearly in his eyes.
Rexa's frown deepened. "So he deliberately sabotaged every member of his department just to make himself look better? Without a thought."
".for what that meant to the ship's efficiency or the safety of the rest of the crew?" Ar'resh's smile faded. "Just to further his chances at promotion?"
"Now you see why anyone who really knew him couldn't stand him," Jeremy said with a nod.
"How did he keep the Command Staff from realizing what was happening when his entire department started."
".to transfer out? Surely even if the Captain and XO were friends of his, they would have had to notice that?" Rexa paused to wave for refills. "Or did he have."
".something on them too?" Ar'resh inquired.
Looking pensive for a couple seconds, Jeremy thought back. "A few of us wondered about that. But to be honest, by the time I got off that ship I wanted to keep myself -and- my thoughts as far away from him as possible. Neither I nor anyone I knew ever heard of anything like that, but it does make sense. Wouldn't surprise me a bit," he added, helping himself to more Andorian stout, "but if he had anything like that on anyone I'd sure like to find out who and what it was."
The women exchanged glances. "It would have to have been the Captain or the XO." Rexa mused.
".but both would have been better," Ar'resh continued. "He'd have needed both to get the signatures he needed to cover up his entire department."
".leaving out from under him like that. Starfleet is set up to notice trends like that, and it would take both of them."
".to make any real effort at obscuring what was happening." Ar'resh's frown was very evident as she sipped her refilled drink.
"Something else to consider," Victor interjected. "If he did have something on the two of them, and it was good enough to force them to cover up what he was doing, then how did he get it?" He raised an eyebrow at Jeremy. "Was he good enough to set something up that they both would have walked into? Something career-threatening that he could hold over them to do this?"
"You know, I never seriously thought about him being behind something -that-far-reaching, but the more we talk about it, the more plausible it seems," he answered looking as if he had just been made aware of some dark revelation. "I know he was always pretty tight with the XO, Gary Linnell, a bit of a prima-donna in his own right, but I never saw him interact with the Captain much...." Jeremy's words trailed off as his eyes suddenly opened wider. "But if Riordan and Linnell were in this -together- somehow... maybe they had something on Captain Parr.... Damn! There might have been something pretty big going on! If those two had it out for the Captain they may have somehow blackmailed him into getting rid of anyone they didn't want around, including me. And what's really suspicious -- damn, I can't believe I never thought it all through this far -- I heard from a friend of mine who was still on the Farragut after I was transferred that Parr very suddenly retired only two months later."
"Retired, why?" Victor leaned forward, moving aside his coffee. "Do you remember if your friend said? If they forced him out somehow it would be bad enough, but if it was a retirement due to injury, then that's even worse." He blinked, his eyes abruptly turning cold and lethal, making Jeremy remember some of the things even the people in his own department said about Victor. "
The two women looked at each other, then back at Jeremy. Ar'resh put her hand on Jeremy's arm. "Please try and remember - it's important. Not just to us because of Greta, but to everyone these men are serving with if they really did something like this."
Leaning forward enthusiastically to meet the others' gazes, Jeremy shook his head. "He didn't know much about it, said it was all very sudden and played down. He didn't say anything about any injuries, though, I'm pretty certain he'd have mentioned that if anything like that had happened."
Furrowing his brow, the helmsman tried to remember what he could from the conversation. "He said they were on their way to some diplomatic negotiations or something when their orders were suddenly changed: they were to report to Starbase 46. It was apparently only a few hours after they arrived that the crew was informed of Parr's 'retirement'. Of course everyone on the ship wanted to know what happened, but the Captain only said that he'd been thinking about it for awhile and that that seemed like a good time," Jeremy shrugged, not understanding his former Captain's reasoning any better than his friend who had related the story. "Parr wasn't young, but he still should have had at least a few more years in him."
Victor thought for a moment. "The next important questions I see are 'Did Linnell receive a promotion to Captain and assume command of the Farragut?' and "Did Linnell subsequently have influence over the negotiations?'"
His aunts both turned and looked at him. "You don't think that was really what the whole situation was about."
".do you?" Rexa looked distinctly unhappy. "All those careers ruined, all those lives at risk."
".just to influence some negotiations?"
"I don't know - but I want to," Victor answered. "Do you recall what the negotiations were about, who they were with - anything like that, sir?"
"He said Linnell was put in command of the Farragut but only temporarily. I did hear sometime later that Linnell was a captain, but whether it happened then or after, I don't know," Jeremy said, shaking his head slowly.
"As for the negotiations, he didn't say much. He got the impression they were expecting things to be rocky because Starfleet had dispatched two high-rankers from the Diplomatic Corps: a Betazoid and a Vulcan. The Farragut was supposed to rendezvous with them somewhere on the way, but when the ship was diverted, the diplomats were brought in by special shuttle to meet them at the starbase."
Taking another draft of his stout, Jeremy couldn't help but be intrigued as the plot seemed to thicken. He'd never before really tried to put any of it together because he only wanted to put the unpleasant memories of his last year on the Farragut out of his mind. He thought for another moment, trying to recall more.
"Roge.. Roger, my friend... was in security. He said he was one of the detail that escorted the diplomats to the ship when they arrived. The diplomats apparently were just as surprised as everyone else that Captain Parr wasn't going to be taking them to the negotiations... Damn," he cursed frustratedly, "why didn't he tell me more?"
"Don't worry about it," Ar'resh counseled, patting Jeremy on the arm. "You couldn't know that you'd."
".want to know more about it in the future," Rexa agreed. "If it was as bad as you say, then you obviously wouldn't."
".have wanted to remember it if you could help it," Ar'resh finished, holding up her hand for another round of drinks for the table.
"Is your friend someplace you can contact him?" Victor was still frowning. "Maybe not just an open call, but contact him privately? Are there any other people you know from the Farragut? If something was going on, the less fuss we make checking into it, the better."
"As I said, many of the people who I knew on the Farragut didn't particularly care for me by the time I left," Jeremy answered, drumming his fingers on the table while he thought. "As for Roge... I haven't talked to him in awhile, but I should be able to contact him. He was assigned to the Enterprise just before I came to the Galaxy."
Accepting another stout from the Klingon barmaid, Jeremy's eyes scanned from Victor the Ar'resh and Rexa. "Are you suggesting we start doing some serious digging into this on our own? See if we can find something out, not just about Riordan but the whole thing with Parr and Linnell? Could be a lot of digging . . . but -very- interesting," he said, slowly nodding his head in acknowledgement of his own words.
"If he did these things." ".and I'm not positive that he did - yet - then."
".we want to know about it," Rexa decided. "We can't let Greta dear."
".be taken advantage of by someone like this for whatever."
"purpose he's really doing these things for."
"That means 'yes' if you weren't following things," Victor nodded. "Maybe we 're jumping at shadows - but if we aren't, then."
"Someone," Rexa interrupted, "needs to step on Mr. Riordan like the."
".dung beetle that he is," Ar'resh declared, hoisting up her glass. "To squashing him like a bug!"
Victor eyed his aunts and sighed, raising his coffee dutifully. "Squashing."
"Squashing." Jeremy added warily. Victor's aunts were pretty intense.
"So, "Rexa asked as Ar'resh waved for another round to replace the one just demolished. "Where do you think we..."
"...should start?" Ar'resh asked, patting Jeremy on the arm and leaving her hand there when the next round was brought.
Victor eyed his aunt's hand and the way she slid her chair closer as she reached for her newly-arrived drink. ~ I think a good place to start would be with my taking the two of you back to the resort before you have anything else to drink. ~
"I think I should start by seeing if I can get in touch with Roge," Jeremy answered with a smile, never one to eschew the attention of an attractive woman. "I'll see what details he can recall."
"We can make a few inquiries too," Rexa decided, laying her hand on Jeremy's other arm. 'I'm sure that if we..."
"...get together, we'll be able to deal with things," Ar'resh nodded.
~ Oh boy. ~ Victor looked back and forth between his aunts. ~ I knew the bar was a bad idea. ~ "So while you check with your friend, and Ar'resh and Rexa ask their questions, I'll do a check and see what happened with the treaty negotiations - and Linnell."
"That sounds good, dear one," Ar'resh nodded, her fingers absently stroking the back of Jeremy's hand.
Victor considered spilling his coffee to break up the direction things were going. "Is there anything else one of you can think of?" ~Besides the obvious, I mean? ~
"Yeah, I can think of a couple things," an irritated voice interrupted. Startled, Jeremy and the others looked to its source. Standing there, with arms folded and an eyebrow raised, stood Erin Freel, in all her fiery red-headed glory.
"You can tell me why you didn't show up at the beach resort where I've been waiting for the last hour," she said with an even, but clearly annoyed tone as she glared at Jeremy. Then she glanced at the aunts. "And you two ladies can kindly remove your hands from my boyfriend."
"Oh dear," Ar'resh looked at Jeremy with genuine embarrassment on her face as she snatched her hand back. "I didn't..."
"...know that you were spoken for!" Rexa completed, equally and obviously honestly, embarrassed.
"I'll take the blame for his being late," Victor offered, hoping to defuse things in case Erin didn't accept his aunt's apology. "These are my aunts, Rexa and Ar'resh, and we were talking to Jeremy about a man he'd served with back on the Farragut."
"He's started dating our dear neice Greta..."
"...you see," Rexa explained. "And we wanted to find out what kind of man she was getting..."
"...involved with," Ar'resh nodded. "And we couldn't help but notice that your Jeremy *is* a handsome..."
"...young man. If we'd known he was spoken for, we'd have never flirted with him like that,"
"...or anything." Ar'resh appeared honestly distraught. "You must believe us."
Jeremy simply grinned awkwardly at the perturbed woman.
"He -is- rather handsome, isn't he?" Erin sarcastically agreed. "It would be such a shame if something happened to that pretty face of his," she said, glaring at him. Her anger was much more directed toward him than at the aunts.
Victor winced. ~ Too many conversations that start like this end in funerals. ~
"Please," Ar'resh spoke up, "if you're going to be angry with someone..."
"...then it should be us," Rexa nodded. "You make much to handsome a couple to let a misunderstanding like this get in the way of your happiness."
"Go on," Ar'resh whispered to Jeremy at something less than her normal speaking volume, but still more than enough that everyone at the table - and Erin - heard her clearly. "Apologize to her. Say you'll take her out..."
"...to dinner tonight, just the two of you, to a romantic little spot with candlelight..."
"...and flowers, don't forget to bring her flowers..."
"...and soft music, there needs to be soft music...."
"...the kind that you can dance to for hours while you tell her how beautiful she is and how lucky you are..."
"...to be with her." Rexa poked Jeremy, who had been looking back and forth between the two of them as they spoke. "Go on, tell her."
Victor closed his eyes, waiting for the worst.
"Yes . . . tell me, what are you gonna do to make this up to me?" Erin asked, leaning on the table and looking her boyfriend straight in the eye.
"I . . . excuse me, ladies." Popping up from his seat, Jeremy rushed to the other side of the table.
"Do you think we could talk about this in private?" he asked Erin in a hushed tone through gritted teeth.
"No . . . I think we can talk about it right here," Erin said, nonchalantly taking a seat next to Rexa. She crossed her legs and arms and looked at him. "I think the ladies would love to hear how romantic you can really be, wouldn't you ladies?" she asked. After waiting an hour wondering where the hell he was and going through all the effort to locate him, Erin decided she was going to have fun with this.
"Oh yes," Ar'resh smiled. "It's always good to see someone."
".willing to make the effort to be really romantic with the one they."
".love. And I know that our Heinrich could use the inspiration."
Victor did his best to avoid wincing, but only partially succeeded.
".so he'll know how best to approach that nice Ella Grey."
Jeremy just stared at her blankly for a few seconds, not believing this was happening. "Look, what do you want?" he said, rolling his eyes in frustration. "I'll get you some flowers. And dinner. How's that?"
Erin turned to Rexa. "Did that sound sincere to you?" she asked, scrunching her face inquisitively.
"Well." Rexa obviously wanted to put the best face on it she could. "We did just surprise him."
".with it, and many men are intimidated in situations like that. They."
".like to plan these things out, you know."
"Try again," Erin instructed.
"What?!" Jeremy exclaimed in a huff. "I don't believe..." He stopped mid-rant at the mere raise of Erin's eyebrows. He knew he standing on thin ice with her right now. "Look, we were talking about some important stuff here!" he almost pleaded. "I lost track of the time!"
"I don't care if you were deciding the fate of the entire Federation," Erin said coolly.
"Okay . . . look, I'll ... I'll take you to that resort now. We can still have a great time! We can swim, dine, dance, anything you want, alright?"
"I don't know..." Erin began slowly, dragging the 'make him squirm' scene out for as long as possible. "I'm still not quite convinced. I think it needs something... some bended-knee action, or a song..." she said, her finger to her lips as if she were in deep thought. "Ladies, what do you think?"
"Does he sing?" Ar'resh asked. "That would be good if he does it well. If not."
".then I've always thought that a good romantic kiss from a man who knows what."
".he's doing was the best apology available. Especially if he has."
".the patience to take his time and do it right. No quick pecks, but a real."
".kiss - the kind that takes your breath away and makes you weak in his arms. *that's* the ticket."
"Along with the flowers, dinner and the resort, of course," Erin added, glancing over her shoulder to the aunts.
"Oh yes, of course."
".you have to have that!"
"I DON'T sing," Jeremy growled.
A wickedly faux-seductive grin crossing her face, Erin crooked her finger and beckoned Jeremy to come to her. As he suspiciously complied, bending down so she could whisper in his ear, she chuckled once. "I think you better sing, or there'll be a lot of -other- things you DON'T do anymore." Then she calmly leaned back in her chair and stared at him, the wicked grin not fading in the slightest.
Jeremy straightened up right then. Literally and figuratively. "Don't make me do this," he muttered quietly.
Erin only smiled.
If Jeremy hadn't already had three Andorian stouts, there would have been no chance in hell for what followed.
Slowly descending to one knee, his eyes self-consciously darting from side to side, he opened his mouth and to the surprise of everyone at the table (and a few others within earshot) starting smoothly singing a tender lovesong....
"I been alone, I've been about; from deep within, to far without. I've seen great stars that brightly shine, much more 'twould be, if love were mine."
Genuinely surprised not only that he -would- do this but that he -could- do this, the wickedness in Erin's smile began to melt as she paid closer attention to his words.
~He's got a good voice. ~ Victor glanced at Erin's face. ~ And a good sense for the right song. No funerals after this. A wedding maybe, but no funeral. ~
"Oooohhhh.." Ar'resh's smile was wide as she listened, her eyes soft.
Rexa just smiled, her own eyes obviously seeing something - or someone -else.
Clearing his throat quietly from nervousness, Jeremy continued.
"And so I searched, without delay; across the barren Milky Way 'til I beheld, the fairest sign, from whom I hoped, love would be mine."
Jeremy now had Erin's full attention, her eyes glistening with tears and her hands covering her mouth. She had no idea he could sing.
"If heav'n above were brought to me, and every world, and galaxy, these I'd forsake, and thoughts divine, for more than these, your love is mine."
Then for the finishing touch, he brought himself up slightly, brought his arms around her and kissed the redhead like she'd never been kissed before.
Victor nodded. ~ Definitely the wedding. Unless he's an idiot. ~
"Perfect," Rexa whispered, smiling happily as she held her sister's hand. Absolutely."
".perfect," Ar'resh agreed. Leaning forward, she added in her not too subtle whisper, "Pay attention, Heinrich."
".if you would just do that with Ella."
".I'm sure that she'd be swept off her feet, and into."
".your arms just like that."
~ I suppose it could be worse - at least they haven't tried to."
"Maybe your friend Jeremy could."
".give you some pointers. after he and his."
".young lady have their romantic evening, of course."
"~ I knew it was too good to be true. ~
"The Klingon Empire after the Dominion War was in trouble. Not only had their fleet losses far outstripped those their allies, but political infighting between the Houses was fueled by the Clone of Kahless becoming Emperor again. Subject and slave races were rebelling across their territories, and food convoys could not keep the production up with the demand. Even the importation of Andorian grains after the lan'Jepi summit did little but staunch their bleeding. The Houses were further stirred up by the Three Muses, the Princesses DeVor'aH. Three identical attempts to clone Kahless that had resulted in failure. Each of the Princesses represented a different path, One to Emperor and Empire and conquest, one to Merger with the Federation and Alliance and the last to isolationism and the Status Quo. All the work of the Khitomer Accords could be undone in an eyeblink, something the Romulans and Remans salivated at the thought of. And we came close, because of a shrubbery..."
Federation Liasion Corps Update, stardate 50402.01 reprinted and cited in "I did it MY way, memoirs of Admiral James L. Corgan" 2464
* * * * * * * * * *
"A Ukabi bush?" Lexa eyed the transmission screen with plenty of doubt. Her beautiful face was creased with doubt.
"A U'kabi Sage brush." Bhrode snapped, bleeding freely from where the baby juKka bird had tried to nurse on his leg. He was leaning over Lexa in the cramped cockpit, and James was wrestling in the ARGOS' crew compartment with the bird.
"Yeah... a... owww! Stupid f**king bird!" James fended off the jukKa chick's pecking beaks and flapping baby wings. The bird chirruped mockingly at the chief of security. The bird tried flapping, chirping, and bouncing at the same time, making the two headed avian baby a hard animal to keep on the ARGOS' floor. "A Ukabi... come on! Stay down! It's... crap! It's been awhile since biology 101... dammit bird, stay down! But it sounds familiar... OWWW! What the fraggin' hell do you want, bird?"
"Botany." Lexa corrected. "biology is the study of organisms, Botany the study of ..."
"Gaddamn plants." added Bhrode, studying the database information being relayed from the Federation Embassy on lan'Jep.
"Chirp... clickclick..." The bird winked mischevously, then decided to take another peck at Corgan's Marine issue chest armor.
"Great... now it thinks i'm it's momma." James complained.
"*MOMMA...*" The bird croaked in a passable imitation of Lep Streeley's voice, for some reason. ( ed. note: WHAT is a post without LEO?)
"Wha..." Corgan trailed off, "...it... just..."
Lexa glanced back, chuckling, "I think it likes you."
"I think I would like to roast this bird on an open fire." James muttered.
"I had it OUT of this craft. And you just HAD to yell something smartassed at it, and let it back in!" Bhrode snapped.
"What? You've got a pretty liberal interpretation of smartassed! If you don't want me to knock Lysander down a peg or two, why didn't you just say so?" James argued.
"I AM saying so. Dammit, you watch your mouth with me or you'll be on Breen so fast..." Bhrode began, the vein in his forehead throbbing.
"James.. he is correct. You really did NOT need to re-open the ramp to yell 'yoinks' at Lysan...Commander Hawksley." Lexa chided.
"*Yoinks*" The bird chirped, leering at Lexa's chest is a very Streeley-esque manner.
"Gaddamn straight! Leave the taunting of my crew to ME! Although mooning those bastards in the Klingon KR-3400 was brilliant. Very William Wallace at Cullen Moor, of you." Bhrode admitted grudgingly.
"James... I need to say something." Lexa yelled over the whistle of wind ripping across the ARGOS' body. The Mother JuKka bird had ripped the entire rear ramp off the craft.
"I'm all ears, Lex. Owww! Stop it!" James fended off the baby bird. Again.
Lexa frowned and looked like she didn't know how to say it, but the news (whatever it was) weighted heavily on her heart. The ARGOS steering wheel also weighted heavily in her hands. Though power steering equipped, the vehicle tried to wrest control from her slender hands. All the anxiety of talking to James and controlling a vehicle for the first time was piling on. Having Bhrode here wasn't helping.
Finally, she confessed, and spoke, "James, I have to tell you, I'm..."
The air shimmered to the left of the ARGOS unit, barely visible through the viewport that the juKka bird had gouged channels into. At breakneck speed, the shimmering effect slammed bulkily into the side of the ARGOS, scraping duranium armor and rocking the dwarfed vehicle like condor bodychecking a frightened robin.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Moon ME you smegger!" Lysander giggled, as he realigned the KR-3400's Hover field from the collision and slewed around in a cloud of dust.
The ARGOS shuddered and clawed its way back from the lip of the ravine.
The KR-3400 cleared the lip of the ravine and barreled across the desert.
"Nice hit." The General admitted.
Laughing Horse Log opened one eye and grunted.
The General laughed and rubbed his hands together. "I have not done this, since before my naming!" he boasted.
"What dangers do this Ukari Sagebrush represent?" Log demanded.
"None." The General admitted.
"None?" demanded Log. "No acid? Burning seed pods? Spitting needles? Poison?"
"No" the General replied.
"Errr.. it looks smegging ugly..." ventured Lysander.
"I'm not sure... your Captain Bhrode selected this item...he was adamant, especially when I told him it only grows in these caves." confessed the General.
* * * * * * * * *
A roaring "SQUAWK" from behind the ARGOS indicated that Momma had recovered from her last phaser stunning and was in pursuit of the craft again. The ground shuddered with each of her stides, transmitted throught the great wheels to the ARGOS. the KR-3400 was invisible behind their Tactical Cloak and off the Federation Relay Satellites scanner coverage.
Lexa pressed her foot down on the accelerator. Upon finding that her foot, already tired from holding down the gas pedal, was close to indenting the floorboards, she lost all hope of going faster, and panicked. "STOP THAT CRAZY THING!!!!!!!" she screeched, not for the first time.
"They can't shoot us, not and remain cloaked" Bhrode grated.
"A little help!?!?!" Screamed James from the back. The force of the impact threw him and the baby jukKa bird into a pile of feathers, beaks, claws, and rolling humanflesh incased in battlearmor.
"Oh fer chrissake..." Thundered The old Man, dropping from the Gunners' cupola to the deck. With one well-placed Hirogen Skin boot, he shoved the baby bird out the hatch and into the path of its mother.
Bhrode's ice blue eyes watched the union of mother and offspring in cooing adoration of each other.
"I bet one of those things would be fun to ride." Bhrode smirked, around the stub of cigar clenched in his teeth.
"And Murphy's Law says the Klingons wanted the whole egg, bird included." James groaned as he collected himself.
"They said EGG! Dammit. Nothing about babies." Bhrode thundered.
Bhrode looked down at Corgan ,still on the deck. The rushing wind made his torn pant leg flap in the wind.
"No Federation Starfleet officer should be laying around, lollygagging. GET UP! This is no picnic! " thundered Bhrode.
"Captain, we're coming up on the cave system containing the bush that GALAXY located for us. The KR-3400 has already disembarked." Lexa reported.
"Good." Bhrode declared.
* * * * * * * * *
"Smeg! Get it!" Lysander urged Log, looking around the cavern. of course, Lysander was not IN the cavern, he was in the KR-3400 safe and snug. Log was looking around the cavern.
Laughing Horse Log, Major, SFMC looked around the cavern and grunted.
"No."
"What? The Smegging General is gone and the ARGOS is pulling in right now! Get the smegging Bush!" Lysander wittered (actual word, between a twitter and a screech)
"No." Log repeated and went back to stacking seveal smallish boulders together. His Marine Black battlearmour had a light sheen of dust on it, further dulling it.
"Why not?" demanded Lysander.
"Corgan has broken my ARGOS. He must suffer. THEN I will bring it" Log grunted, eying the dead-fall trap. His people on earth used dead fall traps to kill game. With any luck, it'd pin Corgan down so Log could hit him a few more times.
"But...." Lysander tried to witter.
"Enough." Log grunted, turning off the Klingon frequencies from his communicator. In the blessed silence, he studied his battlefield again.
"Come to me, Corgan." Log grunted, dissappearing into the shadows.
* * * * * * * * *
"So? is THIS far enough from your precious Diplomatic Center? You set this entire Race thing up, just to talk in secret? " Bhrode demanded of the General.
"Yes. The satellites are offline and no one would snoop on us here." the General replied.
"You said you had information about Bobby Price. Spill your guts." Bhrode demanded, hands on his hips.
"First... I would have you do something for me." the General said, studying his terran cigar with amusement.
"You dragged me all the way out here to barter like a Ferengi pimp?" Bhrode snarled.
"I would have my Houses' name cleared. That is all I will ask for what I am about to say." the General snarled back, crushing the cigar in his fervor.
Bhrode studied the Klingon for a long, tense moment. Both commanders seemed ready to go for the others's throat.
"Your family is..." Bhrode began.
"Disenfranchised. Outcast. Forced to take every honorless warrior in the Rigellian system. We are forced to compete with those pirate scum of Orion on an equal footing. I would see our name cleared and my House return to the Empire!" The General emoted.
"Those Riglelian Colonial Consortium people are a weird lot. We only took them into the Federation a few years ago. Why not take this through channels?" Bhrode admitted.
"Nothing comes of it. Ambassador Spock is....busy. We talked to an Ambasador Thomas on Breen..." The Klingon grunted.
"Man's an ass." Bhrode admitted, grinding the cigar under his Hirogen Skin boots.
"I would talk of this to you. By all accounts, you are a Warrior." the Klingon replied.
"Cross me or lie to me, and I'll make a belt out of your wrinkley head." Bhrode promised.
"Clear my Houses name, and I will tell you which p'taQ here knows why your Admiral Price was almost killed." the General urged.
"Deal." Bhrode's reply rang through the enterance cave.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Dark, damp, and very yellow. That was the inside of the cave. Consisting of granite walls that burrowed into the earth for hundreds of miles, the caves of the 'gad'fOr'SaKEn' was a spelukers' dream, a maquis's mansion. Stalagmites rose from the earth and stalagtites jutted from the ceiling, like enlarged Ferengi teeth neglected from their daily tooth sharpenings. Water dripped, echoing for meters as loud 'dwop' sounds in the ear, with the occasional 'tock, tock' of lighter droplets. Outside a narrow corridor of stone and dirt, a giant cave opened up, leaving open a wide underground spring, a small trickle of stream water pouring in from the sole source of sunlight, a hole in the rocks that pourned in the light and the blue sky into one compact area.
"I found a pond down here." James called to the ARGOS.
Crackling, Lexa's transmission was received, =/\="Good. Ukabi brush grows near underground springs. Search the area, and come back immediately.=/\=
"Relax, Lex. Before you know it, Lysander and Log will be getting acquainted with each other on their long walk home." James laughed, "We'll win this thing, and the marines will have to calm their asses down."
=/\="Don't get cocky James. I worry about you."=/\= she sputtered.
"I know Lex. To be honest, I don't care if I lose or not. As much as I would love to win and stick it to the marines and Lysander, but it seems kinda petty, don't you think?"
There was a long silence, =/\="Maybe, but you think security needs a boost of pride. The marines and Brhode crushed your department's morale."=/\=
"No doubt." James grumbled darkly, "Say... can we move onto something else... like... I don't know, what you were going to tell me before Lysander sideswiped us?"
=/\=Oh... yes. I almost forgot. James...=/\= Lexa stuttered her way through her sentence, as nervous as a girl at prom, =/\="James, I ***KRRRAAAAAKKKKKKK BWWWWAAAAPPPPPPPP SNAARRRRRRGGGGGGG****=/\=
Lexa died out in a sputter of static and sputtering pops.
Lysander's voice replaced hers.
"Smeggin jammers...." Corgan distinctly heard Lysander say, before the 'waa waa' of an active jammer indicated he was alone.
"Sonnva Fu**in f**kfaced f*ck! I really, really fu**in HATE that fuc*! F**k the stupid f**king bush! I'm gonna kill that f**king retard!" James cursed, jumping up in the air to smack at a stalactite in his fury.
Only, his hand didn't hit a stalactite.
It hit the palm of Major Laughing Horse Log's hand.
An evil sounding chuckle sounded, as the steely finger wrapped over James' wrist, leaving his legs dangling in the air several feet above the cave floor.
"Yoicks" James heard Log whisper.
* * * * * * * **
"I am SO a better kisser than that smegger!" Lysander ranted over the com to Lexa Reece.
="YOU ARE NOT! I thought you loved Rebecca! You commed me 108 times about 'wanting to say goodbye' and then invited me to dinner, NEVER told me it was a formal affair until the last minute.. you were ten minutes late!"= Lexa yelled over the com link.
"Err...." Lysander ventured.
="and THEN, after being late, you take me to a LOVELY dinner, which you RUIN by talking about Rebecca the entire time while oogling hy tits, never paying the bill and then LUNGING at me and trying to bite my..."= the com ranted at him.
"Maybe we could smegging discuss this over drinks?" Lysander interrupted with a whine.
="No! Never again! (Ed note: Anyone recognize the motto?) I'd rather drink the whale tank water in cocktails with Leo Streeley!"= the com sputtered.
Lysander pondered this for a moment.
="You are SO smug! Turn the communicators back ON!"= Lexa demanded.
"Bhrode's orders." Lysander replied, in a smug voice.
="ARRRRGGHHHH!!!!! MEN!"= Lexa yelled, shutting down her side of the com link.
"I was NOT late. Smegging Princess was off the ship.. someone had to do the efficiency reports..." Lysander argued to uncaring silence.
* * * * * * * * *
THUD!
Log's entire repitoire for this fight seemed to be based on picking James up and throwing him into some handy rock. Since they were in a cave, it seemed to be working.
THUD!
James slid down the cave wall, loose and relaxed and letting the battlearmour take the kinetic shock. As much as he tried to relax, the battle armor only saved his bones. The impact of a human body flying into a solid granite (and vertical) surface was hard and brutal. The feeling was that of being trapped in a storage container, and thrown over a jagged cliff over and over again. James head was in a tailspin, his equilibrium thrown off balance, his body aching from an untold and accumulating amount of bruises.
"F**k me up before you go... go, eh Log?" James grimaced.
Major Log's fist cracking the side of James' helmet visor indicated the smarmy comment was not appreciated. Corgan's head snapped back and hit the rear of the helmet. He crumpled into the wall, a spasm of pain coursing through his back.
"That's it! That's f**king it you piece of..."
*SOCK! WHOLLUP!*
A fist and a foot were blocked by Corgan's thigh and chest simultaneously. As James fell, he smacked Major Log's knee with his ribcage, and hit Log's foot with his face. Two kicks glanced off his helmet and rattled his head around.
At this point, Corgan did not care about Log's size, his strength, or how he was singlehandedly kicking his ass in a fight. James grabbed for Log's foot, and twisted it with all his strength. The dirty tactic spun Major Log off balance, and he fell down beside the chief of security, grunting in pain as his ankle twisted.
"You wanna play dirty? Then eat this you son of a f**k!" James laid in rapid kicks to the ribs as soon as he stood up.
James' pride was blinding him in a film of rage. How dare that filthy marine lay the boots onto him! Log was going to pay! Major Log had other plans, in the form of a sweep kick that brought the ground out from under him.
"You bully me around, @$$f**k? Try it! Try it now sh*t for brains!!!" Corgan pounced after the Major. Both caught each other in a grapple. Both men tried to get the better of each other. Rolling, cursing, throwing wild punches, the two men grapped like bears. Log felt the edge of a steep drop. Before he could react, James shifted his weight and kneed Log in the stomach. The armor absorbed the hits, but the momentum rolled the two officers down the drop. As if oblivious to it all, the two men kept rolling, punching, grappling and cursing as they rolled past and over rocks and dirt.
At the end of their ride down the embankment, the two bodies were separated forcefully by the impact. James collected himself, dusting off his battle armor and checking himself for bruises.
"Wanna try another stupid stunt like that again, Log?" Corgan chasticed.
The Marine opened his helmet and spat bloodied spit into the dust. He studied James with glittering lalck eyes, like a snake's.
"No." he grunted, before he crouched. James watched, wondering what he was doing....
Log ripped earth, rock and dust as he moved in, slamming James off his feet. On his knees, James lunged forward, spearing Log's chest with his shoulder. They were at each other's throats, literally, Log's hamlike hands and Corgan's stiletto fingers squeezing air and life out of each other.
"I... hate... you... marines!" Out of the corner of his eye, James spotted the Ukabi, peacefully planting roots at the side of the underground spring. It was an ugly little plant, with gray bark that looked as if the plant was dried out. Red leaves with green fringes decorated it's gangly, sparse branches. Yellow pollen dusted the leaves and branches generously.
Corgan headbutted, the two helmets meeting and impacting. Both their grips loosened. Gasping for air, Corgan rolled away and slowly got up. ~"Anger's not going to get me out of this. He's a better fighter than me, probably a better marksman too. I have to find his weakness..."~
~"Now what was it a Ukabi did that made it so famous?"~ James pondered as an idea was coming about.
Log was simply leaning, forcing James back step by step.
"One thing... I hate about you marines." James cursed with a hiss, "You're the captain's pets. If he had his way, we would all be gone because of you! And to make matters worse, your department tries to rule the goddamn ship! Not anymore! Time to put you and your pack of lapdogs in your place!"
Log's eyes glittered dangerously.
"You dishonor the Fleet with your antics... and with Raven's presence." Log grunted, his face impassive.
James broke the stalmate, spinning to the side.
He saw the massive indian charge after him a split second later.
"Oh Log...." The chief of security laughed. He bent down as the indian's husky frame overshadowed him. James' gloved hand enclosed aroudn the Ukabi brush. He sucked in all the air in his lungs.
Then... he blew into the brush. Fine pollen blew out, clouding Log in a yellow haze. The indian coughed until his lungs were hoarse.
James crawled to the edge of the spring. Holding his lungs, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. Dampening the cloth, he took in heavy breaths through the moist fabric.
"I remember the Ukabi..." James mumbled through the cloth, "It wasn't in Biology 101. It was Dr. Quick's exobiology presentation. You remember, right? Common drugs of the galactic superpowers? Well, this plant's pollen is great natural tranquilizer."
"B...b...botany..." Log slurred, still rubbing at his face.
"Whatever. I'm too busy being a smartass to care." Corgan chuckled.
Log voiced a final groan, then fell as the pollen dissipated. James stared down at Log's unmoving form, stretched in the dust on the cave floor.
"Don't worry. You'll only be out for a half hour." Corgan triumphantly waved the sagebrush in front of Log's face. Feeling somewhat sorry for what he had to do to Major Log, he strapped the sagebrush to the side of his battle armor on a rope loop, then bent down to pick up Major Log in a fireman's carry. Slowly, the Commander hefted the Marine's bulk, taking shaky steps towards the exit of the cave.
On the way, he encountered Bhrode and the Klingon General, facing each other in the cave. The air of tension between them was almost alive.
"I ammmm the champion..." James sang hoarsely, as he unceremoniously dropped Major Log like a sack of latinum in front of the General and Captain Brhode's feet, "I amm... the champion. No time for losers... cause I am the champion.... OF THE WORLD!!!!!!!!!"
"What? you WON?" the Klingon gasped, mouth open in shock.
The chief of security nodded, a big smile permanently pressed on his face. "Won? I kicked his ass."
"Yep. Corgan, you and Reece take the ARGOS back to the Embassy. Tell them I want another, with heavier armour. Thing is a piece of crap." Bhrode commanded.
"Yes sir." James sighed from exhaustion, "Lex, I put the ARGOS' companion shuttle automatic controls in the glove compartment. Can you get the shuttle for me..."
"Sure... James." Lexa smiled, savoring victory (and the humiliation of Lysander!).
"Me and the General have some business in lan'Jep city. Commanders Hawksley and Log will walk back." Bhrode ordered, as the General and Bhrode dissappeared in a Klingon transporter shimmer. Before he disappeared from view, James saw Bhrode smile and mouth "Nice job."
The chief of security blinked. Just in case, he blinked twice. ~"A compliment from Brhode? What the hell?"~ James was left bewildered. Compliments from Brhode, much less to his chief of security, never... ever... happened. Their bad blood was enough to keep them from saying any nice words.
A nod was all James replied. ~"Next time I want your respect, I think i'll skip the extreme sports."~
The next person James saw was Lysander, trudging into the caves as James exited into the harsh desert sunlight.
Lysander eyed the sagebrush and muttered "Smegging good show..." as he offerred a manicured hand.
Pulling off a glove and revealing a slim hand that was weathered from guitar use, James accepted the handshake with a grip that felt like a vice. "What the hell." Corgan shrugged, squeezing tighter with each second's passing, "It was a good match. But next time, don't try to hurt Lexa."
"Who?" Lysander puzzled, returning the iron grip.
Lexa was waiting inside the ripped open ARGOS.
Glancing around, Lexa asked, "What happened to the Klingon transport?"
"They smegging well told me to get out, and the whole KR-3400 dematerialized. Most likely a Planetary vehicle transporter." Lysander grumbled.
"I read transporter signals." Lexa confirmed, "Massive ones. it was a vehicle transporter."
"How much do you think Log weighs? Too much to carry, I bet." Lysander's voice echoed from the cave.
"Lysander... you couldn't be closer to being correct. I'd say almost three hundred pounds. He's one heavy son of a b*tch... couldn't carry him for more than a dozen meters at a time." Waving goodbye, James added, "On an off hand topic... enjoy your walk!"
"Smegger..." wafted back to him.
James entered the ARGOS through the gaping hole where the ramp used to be.
"Lexa! We won!" he shouted, brandishing the bonsai-like brush.
"Oh James!" Lexa gushed, her eyes alight.
"Hey, sorry about arguing with you. I should have known Lysander didn't have a chance in hell with you!" James chortled.
"He... didn't! Not the way he acted! Or kissed. I think that year with the Klingons made him different.. he tried to bite my..." Lexa agreed.
"So..." Corgan trailed off, "What are you going to do now? We're broke up, making the both of us fair game to any single on the ship. What are you going to do with your spare time?"
"James... I've been trying to tell you..." Lexa said, running the ARGOS through a start up diagnostic and frowning at the red telltale lights all over her command board.
"What is it?" He asked.
"I accepted their offer." she said, in a very small voice, avoiding his eye.
"What?" James didn't understand, or didn't want to understand, "Who's they? And what did you accept?"
"I'm sorry James, but Starfleet Medical accepted me. Starting next month, I will be the chief administrator at the Cape Horn Military Hospital. On Earth."
The words sank in deep enough to wound James's heart. It didn't strike upon him how much Lexa's departure, if it happened, would hurt him. He assumed that if they were broken up, there would be no hurt when she left. But there he was, hearing Lexa's plans for the first time, and undeniably, they hurt.
"Geez... don't tell me I pushed you that far." Corgan felt guilty, his voice a mournful kind of sadness, as he plonked down in the co pilots seat, the shrubbery hitting the floor forgotten.
"You didn't." Lexa assured James,"I'm leaving because I can't handle space travel anymore. It's... too dangerous. I was hurt... too much. I want to go... somewhere safe. But it wasn't you, James! I am going to miss you when I leave. Miss the talks, the chess games, even our arguments. I'll miss the ship... and my friends."
"Hey." James cut in, his voice demanding silence, but soft enough to be benevolent, "I understand. Go, have fun. Hell, you'll make a great administrator."
"Thank you, James. Oh, and in case you were wondering... you're a much better kisser than Lysander." she added, her clear grey eyes on the road in front of them. Their eyes were locked on each other.
Impulsively, Lexa snatched James by the collar, and planted her lips to his. Her kiss was strong and forceful, and utterly quick. She pulled out, her face flustered with guilt.
"One for the road?" James gasped.
"No... just making sure I was right about you and Lysander. You are definately... better."
"Who isn't?" James said, in a voice he hoped sounded strong.
* * * * * * * * *
" . . . and THEN she says that she didn't WANT me to kiss her! I mean, who smegging goes out to dinner and looks THAT hot, and doesn't want to? Women!" Lysander groused to Log's uncaring back.
Grunt.
The sun shone down around them. The lan'Jepi wilderness was rural and wild around them. Log just limped along, totally silent
"Smegging women! I don't understand them!" Lysander mused.
"Me either" Log grunted, in the first words he'd said in the last four hours.
"You ever been in love and acted all crazy becasue you love them so much?" Lysander demanded.
"Once." Log grunted.
"How did you solve it?" Lysander asked.
"Left." Log replied, glittering obsidian eyes locked on the horizon.
"Another guy? Like Corgan?" Lysander demanded.
"Yep." Log grunted.
"And you left? Didn't punch him or try to kill him?" Lysander demanded.
"Disowned him. You can't kill a bloodbrother." Log grunted.
"Are you talking about Rav..." Lysander asked.
"No. Someone who's dead now." Log replied, clearly hinting this was the END of the talk.
"Sounds like Rav..." Lys nattered.
"Enough. They're dead." Log growled.
They were still quiet when the GALAXY transporters locked on them and brought them back to the ship an hour later. How Bhrode got back remains a mystery to this day. James transported the ARGOS and the companion shuttle back to the Galaxy after a trip to the consulate.... and Lexa Reece shipped out for Earth from the lan"Jepi Embassy.
Ella returned to her quarters onboard Galaxy only to find a note taped to the door. Paper, Ella thought with amusement. Thought only I used that.
She pulled the note off, the door automatically opening. Ella walked in and looked around with some confusion. The room was bare, excluding the desk, beds, replicator, and a mirror that reflected a very tan, but very surprised Ella. Indigo's laundry was nowhere to be seen, nor her posters or artwork. Her junk sculpture had disapeared. Further examination showed that all their drawers were empty, all of Ella's clothes were gone.
The floor had been vacuumed and the room had a lingering smell of some cheap orange essence.
Er, was all Ella could think of before she remembered the note.
Welcome Back, Ella!- it read in big purple ink letters.- So, it turns out that the whacko that designed the ship built different types of quarters and we were put in this one by mistake. Too bad we didn't get the one with the trampoline I heard about. Anyway, we've relocated, our own rooms and a shared living room and bathroom. Directions on other side. Cya later, INDIGO.
She turned over the paper and sure enough there were the directions.
Ella shrugged, picked up her suitcase, and went to find her new quarters.
off: when in doubt, blame Quick ;)
Have you been to Lanjep before? Ensign Timothy Peterson asked before leaving Adrians office.
Similar to the office on the Miranda, it spoke of Adrians exotic style of decorating, with paintings and tapestries hung from wall to ceiling. Depictions ranged from countryside to mountainside, sunsets, nighttime, and pictures of planets and their distinct satellites. It was starting to become the art gallery of the Counseling Department, as if that was a surprise in itself to the owner.
Lanjep, His eyes sparkled at the name. Once, and my time there was' how shall we say? Taken up with very important stuff to have a good time.
Well, He suggested. Theres always a second chance.
As the Ensign left, Adrian leaned back in his chair in distant memory on the events centering their last visit to Lanjep. The aftermath left a bitter taste in his mouth as he arose and straightened everything up.
Theres always a second chance.
Leaving a message in his quarters for his wife, Adrian went to Transporter Room One, and beamed down'
*** Lanjep ***
A brief array flashes and sparks told of his forthcoming. Instead of a casual outfit, he opted for the uniform, should some passerby ask him where his parents were. At most, the uniform and pips would indicate him a Federation officer, even if his looks deemed otherwise.
It had been over a year since his last visit to Lanjep, since that unfortunate incident with Captain, now Admiral Price. Perhaps in light thought to that, he discreetly surveyed his surroundings for anything suspicious, and then sighed lightly.
Forget it Adrian, He mused to himself. Youre not that lucky. Captains and Doctors are at the top of the menu. Counselors are persona-dont-wanna.
Positioned outside of the resort, the El-Aurian looked over at it, and decidedly shook his head and headed instead for the lake. He had a distinct hunch that he was being followed, but the perpetrator in question was no where in sight. His higher senses indicated otherwise, but he brushed it aside. If ill intent were to take place, it would have happened by now, since no one was insight, apparently within the resort.
The lake looked clearer than crystal as it scattered the gentle rays of the parent star above. The cool, gentle breeze sent small ripples upon the surface, causing small waves to wash upon shore. Adrian closed his eyes and smiled as the wind hit his face. This was one of the few moments he really enjoyed himself.
Do you how difficult you are to surprise? A resonant bass thundered from behind. Do cloaked ships have the same problem with you my old friend?
Well nigh impossible Najhtok, Adrian answered with a slight smirk. The USS Andromeda had more need for my' other skills than for Counseling. He turned around and began to laugh. Besides, youre not exactly light on your feet if you know what I mean!
They laughter died down as they shook hands, not as simple friends, but as fellow warriors.
How are you my friend? He asked.
Pretty well, Im married to a beautiful woman named Zerhi-
I take it of your race?
Oh yes, slightly older, but that doesnt matter. We were married in twenty-three seventy-six. I was going to introduce her to you last time, but events ran away with themselves. We also have a three year-old son named Maxim.
Just like his father I bet!
Depends, when he gets into mischief, Zerhi and I like to debate whose child he is! It usually ends up being a toss between the two of us. He looked back at the lake. So, what brings you to Lanjep? You havent come here to relax at the chal blQ Resort have you? He teased. I didnt think warriors of your caliber did such things?
And you would be right! He declared. I heard the Galaxy was in the area, and so was I, and I was about to come aboard when I saw you beaming down, came here instead. They began to walk slowly along the shore. Have you heard from your sister?
Within the last day, He answered. She sends a massage saying that she will be on the Homeworld very soon and something about family duties and what not. Shes been somewhat busy, He shrugged. Thats the life of an Admiral I suppose. I take it though; youve not come to ask that question?
I havent known you long, and still you never cease to amaze me.
Before a century passes, we El-Aurians like to amaze at least a thousand people. Im at the nine-eighty-six mark, He chuckled as they stopped. Ask.
Why did you never go through with the Ruustai with my great grandfather? He asked, and then went on. Your sister has been an honored member of our house for well over three centuries. I understood why Kailen and Jaina did not join, but you? Underneath that Listener exterior is the heart and spirit of a warrior, just like your sister. Ive seen it, and heard its call for you.
I dont know, He answered. I guess I was still in mourning over the loss of my father, my people and my Homeworld to really think about it at the time. KronoQ himself offered me the chance after I saved his life, but I dont think I was ready'
As head of the House of Bethor, I make the same offer.
He opened his mouth to speak when his combadge sounded. Galaxy to all hands, Report back to the vessel, general recall.
Ill be back. He told the Klingon male as he tapped his combadge for them to transport him up, and left.
Curtis had been waiting by the holodeck for ten minutes. He wasn't really sure Cutter was going to show up, but he was going to give him the benefit of the doubt.
He was just about to give up when he saw Cutter walking down the corridor towards him.
"There you are!" Curtis said. "So...I think you should pick out the program. I'm not familiar with your planet. You would know the best place to go."
Cutter sighed, showing slight irritation. He glanced at Curtis briefly, and thought for a moment before speaking. "Computer," he said, "recreate the city of Ekal on the Frulan're continent on Fruna. Place us near the center of the city, on Oifalgo Aha'bel."
The computer blipped, then said, "Please hold. Accessing appropriate data files. Compiling."
"I assume Oifalgo Aha'bel is street?" Curtis asked, only slightly butchering the pronunciation.
Cutter nodded and approached Curtis, "Aha'bel is Katajo'ar for .... well, directly, it really means 'fly path,' but its essentially street." He stood to the side of Curtis, both facing the opposite wall. Suddenly, Cutter shoved out his arm and held his palm out to Curtis's shoulder.
Curtis looked at his neighbor suspiciously, but then the computer had finished its work and the two were instantaneously transported to an alien planet. Just as quickly, a strong wind had picked up inside the holodeck and the punch of air caught Curtis off guard, sending him tumbling into Cutter's waiting hand. "Thanks," Curtis said, sheepishly.
But Cutter wasn't listening. The _expression on his face, though, indicated that his nonresponsiveness was for a different reason than earlier that day. It was not the frustrated, tired pout of depression, but rather the countenance of complete relaxation that covered Cutter's face. His head was lifted to the sky, his eyes closed and a slight smile spread across his lips as the strong wind ran over his statuesque frame.
He stood there for several moments before letting go of Curtis, who had finally figured out how to stand against the gusts. Cutter walked away to the edge of the plaza on which they stood, and Curtis realized suddenly that they were standing on a walkway suspended between to tall buildings several stories above the ground.
"Watch out!" Curtis yelled, as Cutter approached the edge, which held no railings or curb to warn someone of the potential danger. But, Cutter still wasn't listening. He stood on the edge and held his arms out to the sides and slowly tilted forward.
"Cutter!" Curtis called out, running towards the edge of the cliff. Forgetting for a moment that he was on the holodeck, and all apparent danger was artificial.
Suddenly, a figure flew up past Curtis's face, startling him and forcing him to take a step back. Cutter shot up into the sky riding the wind like he was weightless; his wings carrying him, giant white sails in the blue sky. He was several tens of feet into the air above Curtis, but it was easy to see the contentment Cutter was feeling. It was as if he had hung all the stress and all the troubles of work and Starfleet at the door like a raincoat.
Once the brief shot of excitement skywards ended, Cutter relaxed his wings, rotating one around so that he gently fell to the suspended plaza spinning like a dancer. He stepped over to Curtis, who was waiting patently for Cutter to return. "Do you feel that wind?" Cutter asked, beaming. "Ka! I love that wind."
"I certainly do, it's quite a rush." Curtis answered. Then, as a sudden quick blast of wind caught him off-gaurd, he added, "Hard to keep balanced though..."
Cutter let out a short laugh, "Ohn, right. I suppose you're not used to it are you? This is Ekal, one of the windiest cities on Fruna. Average daily wind speeds are about 60 kph, with gusts up to 130 kph, but it can get much stronger." (Ed Note, thats about 35 mph and 80 mph)
"That fast?" Curtis asked, amazed. "You're right, though, I'm not used to it, Kera has very little wind."
"Its invigorating, though, right? Ka!" Cutter said, throwing his head back and leaning forward into the gusts, his wings outstretched behind him.
"You could say so." Curtis answered. "So why this city? Anyplace special?"
"I went to school here. My last home before the academy."
"Ahh, I see. It's a nice place really."
"Curtis! You like music, right?" Cutter asked excitedly, suddenly changing the subject. "You'll love this. Computer," he called out, "populate the city."
It took only a moment for the computer to reply. People began to fade in from nothingness. All of them had wings, Fruna'lin like Cutter. Some shared his dark blue hair, others had dark green; there were shades of purple and black and light blue, as well as many with canary yellow or red or solid white hair. The feathers that adorned the wings were just as diverse. The styles of clothing worn were quite varied as well. Some wore traditional looking clothing, others appeared to be wearing almost nothing at all.
The large plaza the computer had originally set them on was now crowded with people. Curtis had seen station promenades, but this tiny square had them all beat. There were Fruna'lin going about all sorts of business. Many talking, there was a couple involved in some heavy petting and other public displays of affection, some buying from the one or two carts of trinkets that sat on the square. How they got there, high above the city floor, Curtis didn't know.
"Wow, this is great. Is it really like this all the time?" Curtis asked.
"This? This is midafternoon density. You should see it during the evening."
"Quite a night life here eh?" Curtis said, smiling a bit.
"Ka esema!" Cutter said, smiling. "You see, the city is full of these ucholenim suspended between buildings. This one is probably 50 stories up. You can see the next two over there and there," he pointed to either side.
"We're that high up?" Curtis asked in disbelief.
"Sem. We just fly between them as we please, but they've started to modify some parts for you non-winged species. I can just fly you over, though, where ever we decide to go," Cutter stated matter of factly, turning to follow an attractive girl walking past with his eyes.
"You can fly me over? What does that involve?" Curtis asked wearily.
"Oh, I'll just pick you up and carry you."
Curtis arched a suspicious eyebrow, "Really? You can do that? It won't mess you up or anything?"
"As long as you weigh less than about 125 kilos," he replied, turning back to face Curtis. (Ed. Note - 275 lbs)
"Well, I'm way under that...." he said. "Hey, you said something about music. But I don't hear any."
"Ohn! Right! Ih...." Cutter stalled, looking around. "Ohn, esema. See that nude woman over there, painted solid black? She's the entertainer for this plaza. The city subsidizes entertainers to work all over the city. Most, if not all Fruna'lin have performed or published some form of entertainment before. I work with visual media," he said, preemptively answering Curtis's question. "She's some sort of dancer or something. I'm not quite sure. Cute though."
"Your society seems very committed to the arts. I can appreciate that." Curtis said, intrigued
"Ih ... sem, although, I wouldn't really say the arts. We're just committed to keeping ourselves amused."
Curtis laughed, "Oh well, still, thats impressive."
"You want to go to the next ucholenim? There's bound to be a band playing somewhere."
"Alright then, lets go."
Cutter nodded and then waved for Curtis for follow him. He made his way through the crowd, excusing himself in his native language until they reached the edge of the plaza.
Curtis, looking over the edge with a bit of apprehension, asked, "You're sure you can hold me up?"
"Esema. Here, see?" Cutter suddenly grabbed Curtis and shoved them both forward out into open air.
The sensation was thrilling and terrifying all at once. Curtis had never felt anything like it. "Holy Crescendo! This is incredible!"
Cutter laughed at Curtis's shock. He decided to have a bit of fun with the first time flyer and turned to dive downwards quickly. As Curtis's exclamation climbed to a scream, Cutter jerked upwards, nearly losing his grip around Curt's chest just under his arms. Fortunately, for Curtis's sake, he was unaware of almost being dropped. Cutter then took a slow vertical loop and returned to his previous path.
"Have you ever flown in a winged aircraft before?"
"No, I never had the chance." Curtis said, still taking it all in.
"All starships? You're really missing out on the proper way to fly," Cutter pointed out, with a slightly arrogant tone.
"Oh, I've read up on them. I find them fascinating, I just never had the chance to fly one. Now I wish I had."
They continued to fly down the aha'bel, passing over a couple plazas suspended between the gargantuan buildings. They seemed to go up forever. If Cutter's estimation about being 50 stories up, how did these buildings go? Finally, one of the buildings ended, leaving a small gap before the next tower began. Another square hung in the T- intersection, mysteriously possessing the strength to hold about one or two hundred people.
"Lene! Here's a band. Playing Ila'dona music. Ka, you'll like this," Cutter told Curtis as they landed.
The music was unlike any Curtis has heard before. There were many percussive instruments, all laid out in a sort of circular pattern. There were many rhythmic patterns all played together to create a delicate and balanced sound. Each instrument was vital to keep the feel of the piece. Around the players were many people dancing. The whole spectacle was really something to behold.
"I've never heard music like this. So percussion oriented, but still conveying melody. It's great."
"Sema," Cutter said, beginning to move slightly to the music. His eyes were transfixed on part of the band. "Look at the donala player. Ka, I wish I could play like that," he sighed pointing to a canary blonde Fruna'lin playing a set of wooden blocks which looked similar to a Terran marimba. The player held three sticks in each six-fingered hand and was moving across the instrument at a very rapid pace.
"That's player is really good. I can play a marimba and a Kerelian glock. I wonder if I'd be any good at that?" Curtis said. He got no response from Cutter, instead he only received a bump in the back from a passing dancing couple.
"Cutter?" he asked, turning to where his friend stood, but Cutter had disappeared. Curtis scanned the crowd mixing around on the large suspended plaza. Cutter had moved off and found a dancing partner. His hands held her holographic hips while hers ran through his hair, their wings extended behind them as they stepped to the highly rhythmic music. Curtis had obviously been forgotten.
Curtis turned back to face the band, a smile filling his face. This visit home made Cutter more cheerful than Curtis had ever seen him. It was clearly just what he needed to overcome his depression. Curtis laughed, how could anyone be unhappy in a place like this? It didn't seem possible, he thought as an attractive winged woman tapped his shoulder and spun him into a dance. Impossible.
****
Ella looked thoughtfully at her reflection, spun around again, and then eyed the swimsuit once more.
Well, he said I needed a tan, Ella thought.
She had at her disposal a handful of bathing suits, thanks to her formidable wardrobe. Of the handful, she had narrowed it down to two. The first was a cute little two-piece, flowery, meant to be flirty and fun.
She had considered it for about ten seconds before tossing it aside.
The red bikini was probably asking for trouble, Ella mused. Nor was the shiny material, or the way it rode low on her hips or was tied by a seemingly skimpy in the back, by any means subtle. And this is your idea of starting slow, Ella asked herself in amusement, noting the fact that more of her skin was being exposed than revealed.
Subtlety meant patience, which Ella did posses. It was just funnier to watch a man's mouth drop to the floor. And while Victor needed to be handled carefully, a little shock therapy might do the boy some good, even though Rexa and Ar'resh were more successful in that department. She put on the oversized shirt, grabbed her towel and key, slipped into some sandals and headed for the lake.
*****
"Heinrich, dear, you're not wearing."
".the suit that we bought for you!" Ar'resh pouted.
"The color went so well with your eyes." Rexa pointed out from her chair next to the beachside table. "Don't you want to."
".look good for your Ella?"
"She is not *my* Ella, Ar'resh. She isn't *my* anything - and that suit had almost enough fabric to pin a rank dot on. Maybe two. I am not almost wearing that in public."
"Well that was the idea, dear one," Ar'resh sighed taking his hand. "You weren't supposed to."
".wear it in public. You were supposed to take your Ella someplace private and show her," Rexa finished.
Victor sighed. "I don't think."
"Oh look, there she is now!" Ar'resh stood up, waving again, one hand holding her wide-brimmed hat on - antennae protruding through a pair of holes included in the design for that purpose.
Several passers-by slowed to admire her form in its daring white two-piece as she waved.
"Over here, Ella!" Ar'resh continued, unperturbed by the glances.
Victor looked in the indicated direction. ~ Please, God, let them not have bought her a suit too. ~
Ella waved hello as she approached them. She handed the aunts the prepared message on the computer and then laid out her towel.*BEAUTIFUL DAY, ISN'T IT?* The aunts replied happily and passed the PADD to Victor. He read the brief message and looked like he was about to comment. However, Ella chose that moment to unveil the bikini.
Victor, about to observe that it was a nice day, had the words vanish out of his head. ~ What is she.~ he blinked. ~ She's going to start a riot in that. ~
She folded the shirt, watching Victor's reaction out of the corner of her eye. The aunts were ecstatic, seeing the bathing suit, she guessed, as a declaration of love. Ella heard a couple of appreciative whistles from behind her. She kicked off her shoes and then sat down on the towel. Since she had already put on the sunscreen beforehand, she laid back on the towel, using the shirt as a pillow.
~ What was she. ~ Victor glanced at his aunts. ~ They did this. That was supposed to go with the suit they got me. ~ He sighed mentally. ~ They're incorrigible. ~ He glanced at them again, and the way they were exchanging glances with each other. ~ No, not incorrigible - incourageable. ~ He ignored them and stared at the crowd, several people veering away from obvious approach vectors on Ella when he did so. ~ I should have brought my rifle. ~
Ella turned her head, looked at him with wide innocent eyes. ~~What?~~ she signed.
Victor frowned. ~~I arrested dabo girls for indecent exposure back on DS9 that were wearing more than that.~~
~~Prude.~~
He looked at the suit critically. ~~I think that might be even illegal some places on Risa. Didn't you have something less.~~
~~But where's the fun in that?~~ Ella replied.
~~My definition of 'fun' doesn't include having to shoot people off of you so we can talk. ~ He looked up and glared at a pair of young men that were approaching. The two blanched, backpedaled, and changed direction. ~ Too many interruptions. ~
~~It's called a conversation piece, Victor.~~ her fingers stated, somehow implying a dry tone. ~~If I hadn't worn it, you probably wouldn't be talking.~~
~~Yes we would. There just wouldn't be as many men sitting around us and thinking about you like you were an item on the menu.~~ He paused to glare at another one, sending the poor lad backpedaling. The idea appeared to bother him, but not in the sense that he regarded her as 'his girl' per se.
Ella shrugged, noted the way he was sending the boys flying, and wondered if she was having the 'little sister' effect on him. Unsure on how that made her feel, she opted to say nothing. She smiled instead and lay down to tan.
~I'm not imagining it. ~ Victor thought as he leaned back and looked around again, the spot on his back where Chief Galdo's spear had punched through him aching slightly. ~ Someone's watching me. ~ He leaned forward, pretending to look out over the lake at the divers riding the column of water up and then shooting out to fall gracefully back to the surface like feathers. ~ I can't see them, but they're there - and it's me they're watching, not Rexa, Ar'resh, or Grey. ~
~~Stop that~~ Ella signed with a yawn.
~~Stop what?~~
~~Stop brooding~~ she clarified. ~~You're on vacation. Might as well enjoy it.~~
~~Is this the pot calling the kettle black?~~
Ella rolled on to her stomach. ~~Well, well. He knows how to retort. Is this your monster ego peeking through?~~
~~No, that would be my Id that's the monster. And if it were peeking out, you'd be screaming already.~~
She rolled her eyes, sat up and reached in her bag for her sunscreen, applied a dab on her finger and quickly smeared it on the end of his nose. ~~What do you know? No scales. By the way, you're turning a little red~~ Ella lay back down on her stomach.
"What do you think they're talking about? It looked."
".like she just asked him to rub lotion on her," Rexa nodded approvingly. "Go on, Heinrich," she whispered, as if Ella couldn't hear her (or the two closest table for that matter). "She looks like she."
".needs a little more, especially lower down and on her legs," Ar'resh advised. "She has very nice legs, you know."
Victor did his best to ignore the comments. ~ I wonder if I can bribe the weather control manager to schedule a typhoon this afternoon? ~
His aunts, seeing he wasn't moving, shifted tactics. "Ella, do you think that Heinrich needs some."
".sunscreen? I think he might need to borrow some sunscreen." Rexa nudged Ell with one toe. "Maybe you could."
".help him out?"
He really was starting to burn, especially the back of his shoulders. She grabbed the sunscreen with one hand and motioned him to turn around. Victor stared at her blankly. ~~You're starting to burn.~~
~~I'll be fine.~~
Ella put a hand on her hip, gave him a look, and then signed ~~Some predator you are. It's okay, I promise not to bite.~~
~~You don't have the teeth for it.~~~ He shook his head. ~~Humans have a poor jaw design for that sort of thing. Not enough depth.~~
She snorted as she rubbed the lotion onto his back, making sure to get the back of his shoulders and his neck. His body remained tense the whole time. Ella looked over his shoulder and scanned the beach, as he was doing, but was unable to see anything. Maybe he was just tense because of her. She finished and dropped the lotion into his lap and returned to her blanket. ~~Don't forget your ears~~ she signed before closing her eyes once more.
"Heinrich," Ar'resh whispered, not quite loud enough to wake the dead, "don' t forget her needs, she."
".could use a little attention too. Why don't you spread some lotion on her before she burns?" Rexa encouraged.
After enduring his aunt's pointed looks, Victor sighed and leaned forward, touching Ella on the arm. When she opened one eye to look at him, he offered her the lotion. ~~Your legs?~~
Oh, yeah, Ella thought and took the sunscreen from him. Her legs were starting to pinken a bit. She rubbed the lotion on quickly, there was only so much teasing she could do in one day, and tossed it back to him. Her back was also starting to burn a bit but that was easily solved by laying on it and tanning her front.
Victor leaned back in his chair, ignoring his aunt's disapproving looks, and casually let his eyes move across the beach. ~ Okay, someone's watching me. The question is why? Part of the crew, trying to get the dirt on my supposed affair with Grey? Someone out to get me for something I did in the past? ~ He picked up his sunshades from the table and put them on, using the motion as a cover for checking the area behind them. ~ Something I haven't thought of? ~
The area behind them was clear except for a resort staff member approaching with the tray of drinks his aunts had ordered, and a trio of other guests who appeared to be far more interested in Rexa, Ar'resh, and Ella than Victor. ~ That's a relief, anyway. ~
The staffer left the drinks, the tip Rexa left on the electronic chit enough to even make the Klingon smile, and departed, giving Victor another excuse to look towards the main resort. ~ Still nothing. but it doesn't feel right for one of the crew. There's. ~ He shifted position, the ache in his old injury refusing to lessen with the movement. ~ There's too much intensity to this. It's going to be trouble. ~
He looked down at Ella, frowned, and then glanced up at his aunts, who were making hand gestures indicating that he should give her the drink they'd ordered for her. ~ Might as well - I can tell her to leave when I do it. She doesn't need to be here when it goes bad. ~
Victor reached out for the drink, drawing smiles from his aunts, and leaned over again, touching Ella on the arm. She looked up at him.
~~You'll dehydrate. Drink this.~~ He let her take the drink. ~~Then make up a reason to leave.~~
~~Is the suit really that bad?~~ she signed amused.
~~Something's wrong. I'm being watched - I can feel it.~~ He shifted his shoulders, like there was an itch he couldn't scratch between his shoulder blades. ~~Someone's watching me.~~
Ella took sip of the offered drink, scanned the area, offering flirty looks to those who caught her stares. She still could see nothing. ~~My spider sense isn't tingling~~ she signed to him.
~~Your what?~~ He looked at her blankly. ~~I'm serious Grey; you need to leave. At least go sit with my aunts.~~
~~I like you Victor but this 'ordering me away every time things begin to get messy' is beginning to annoy me. I'm not completely useless, you know.~~
~ Dammit, Grey, you're going to get hurt - why won't you just leave? ~Victor looked at her for a second longer, thinking, then signed, ~~Depends on your definition of 'useless.' Go.~~
She examined her fingernails, unperturbed, before signing ~~Is that the best you can do?~~
~~No.~~ Face expressionless, Victor stood up and leaned over, one hand taking Ella by the arm and starting to pull her to her feet.
Her eyebrow lifted, her face as cold as his. ~~Don't be an ass.~~ her fingers snapped as she tried to tug her arm free.
"Heinrich dear."
".where are you and."
The rest of Rexa's words were lost when a powerful hand struck Victor in the small of the back, sending him sprawling to the sand next to Ella, still holding her arm.
"Huh, huh, huh!" Deep voices laughed as Victor shook his head and looked up. ~ Damn. The Nausicans from before. ~
"Hello boys." His smile thinned, and beside him, Ella watched and felt his entire body language change like a switch had been thrown. It was as if the man had vanished and something else had replaced it, something dangerous, feral. and deadly.
So this must be what everyone sees, Ella thought. Then her annoyance kicked back in. Whoopteedoo, she wanted to sign.
The tallest Nausican laughed again. "Remember me, human?"
"I don't know," Victor offered, his smile like a tiger's. "I think so. Maybe if you turned around and bent over so I could see your face?"
The other four Nausicans paused only a split second before bursting into laughter. The speaker's already mottled skin darkened. "What did you say?"
"I suggested that you run along like a good little scavenger and find some garbage to play with," Victor offered, releasing Ella's arm. "Something nice and safe that won't hurt you."
The other Nausicans kept laughing.
"I'm going to kill you," the leader growled. "I was just going to hurt you some before, but now you die!"
"You're boring me, scavenger. Run along and play somewhere else. The children's swimming section is over there."
"Get up so I can kill you!"
"Sorry, I don't fight people unless they're smarter than the ground they're standing on."
The Nausican roared, and kicked a spray of sand into Victor's face. "Get up or I kill you where you are and then take your women until they beg me for more!"
Even though it wasn't a universal sign, the Nausican got the gist of Ella's middle finger.
Victor's smile changed again; becoming the cold as death expression Ella had seen just before the Defiant died. "Since you insist.."
Victor's foot snapped out and caught the tall Nausican in the ankle as the alien started to move in, dropping him to the sand with a thud. Before the larger alien could rise, Victor rolled onto his side drew the same foot back, and drove his heel into the alien's temple. The Nausican jerked once, then went limp.
The other Nausicans stopped laughing, looked at each other, and then roared and moved forward as one while Victor rolled to his feet.
Ella rolled to avoid them, jumped up, and then briefly swiped at the sand on her bikini. Irritated, she grabbed her purse and pulled out the PADD. Luckily, it was already connected to the lanJep mainframe so it was easy enough to send a message that a group of Nausicans was attacking the tourists, shouting that Klingons security was the by-product of a Romulan dinner.
Hmm, Ella thought. And that Klingons smell just as bad, Ella added thoughtfully and pushed 'send.'
Victor and the Nausicans crashed together - or rather the Nausicans did, as Victor sidestepped the rush and let the four tangle together briefly, getting in a few blows before they got their feet under them again. "Get out of here!" he snapped towards Ella as one of the aliens caught him with a punch, rocking him back.
The trailing Nausican looked around, saw Ella and the aunts - both still sitting at the table - and started for them, grinning in anticipation.
Ella fumbled in her bag as the Nausican approached. Compact, wallet, lipst- ah there it was. She took out the small phaser and fired. Even Victor paused momentarily in disbelief.
The Nausican she'd targeted dropped like a stone and lay on the sand.
~ She didn't - she did. Damn. ~ Victor winced as the other Nausicans looked at the stunned form on the sand.
~~Well, what do you expect~~ She rolled her eyes. ~~It's lanJep, not Disneyland.~~
The remaining three Nausicans all roared and began producing an assortment of energy weapons from under their beach robes, including one seriously illegal scorcher, a hand weapon that fired charges of near-stellar temperature plasma.
"Oh dear," Ar'resh sighed from behind Ella. "That will never do, no."
".not at all," Rexa agreed. "I do hope that they've upgraded the."
A tone sounded over the beach speakers, and a Klingon voice began barking out some sort of warning as there was a sudden hum and a series of small posts that Ella recognized as the emitters for a very modern nullifier array sprang up out of the sand at regular intervals, flashing to life.
The Nausican with the scorcher, Victor hanging on his arm, wrenched the weapon towards the table and depressed the trigger.
".weapons interference. Oh good, they did," Ar'resh observed brightly.
The Nausican, confused, pressed the trigger again, drawing the same zero effect. "Hunh?" He grunted, looking down at Victor, as his companions all tried their weapons with similar results.
Victor didn't bother to respond with anything other than a low blow that made Ella wince at the sound his knee made on contact with the Nausican.
The remaining two looked at each other, tossed the useless energy weapons aside, ripped off their robes, and dove for Victor, carrying him over their leader to roll towards the surf.
"Why don't you come and join us, Ella."
".dear?" Rexa asked. "There shouldn't be any more problem for our Heinrich. There are only."
"It will do the boy some good to work off..."
".some of that tension he won't release by just admitting that he wants to."
".carry you off and make love to you for days," Rexa smiled. "I hope he mentioned how much he..."
"...likes the bikini that you're wearing today? Why, he seemed positively fascinated with it."
Not in the way you two think, Ella thought. She forced a smile though and sat down.
Down in the surf, the fight continued, with neither Victor or the two Nausicans making a great deal of headway, or inflicting a great deal of damage on each other.
"Look at that!" Rexa pointed out proudly, as Victor caught one of them by the arm and turned, driving him into the other like a hammer. "I taught him that one."
Ella watched impressed. She was going to have to get Victor or the aunts to teach her that move.
"Oh, look out. ooooohhh!" Ar'resh called out, and then winced as one of the Nausicans got in a solid hit that sent Victor back into the lake.
"He never did get the hang of that block," Rexa sighed.
The two Nausicans dove for Victor as he stood up, smothering him in a wall of muscle that crushed him back down into the surf.
"Is that allowed?" Ar'resh asked, frowning. "I didn't know you could bring a lake to a fist fight."
"Well, it *is* a bit tacky," Rexa observed. "But there's nothing in the rules about it."
Victor's arms thrashed as the aliens held his head under the water.
Ella pointed this out to them, mainly by standing up, alarmed, and pointing in his direction.
"Oh no, he's fine, dear," Rexa assured her.
"Dear me yes," Ar'resh nodded. "The Krieghoff men all have magnificent breath control." She poked Ella in the arm. "You should ask him."
".to demonstrate for you, dear," Rexa nodded encouragingly.
In the surf, Victor's arms slowed, jerked once, and stopped.
Umm that can't be good, Ella thought. She pointed again.
"No, really," Rexa insisted, "he's fine. The boy is."
".just showing off for you." Ar'resh nodded. "All the Krieghoff men like to beat their chests every now and."
".then, and since they have such handsome chests, we Krieghoff women just sit back and let them."
The two Nausicans looked at each other, barked out laughs, and released Victor's limp form, turning around and leering at the three women. They growled, flexing their arms in a display of muscular prowess and making gestures towards their swim trunks.
And completely missed the two hands that rose up out of the water behind them, reached up, and clamped down on the portions of their anatomy contained within the trunks that they had been referring to.
"Ouch," Ar'resh winced. "I do believe that they've irritated him."
The Nausicans both let out rather high-pitched squeals and rose up on their tiptoes as a very wet and thoroughly unpleasant-looking Victor emerged from the surf behind them, and applied more pressure, rotating his wrists.
Rexa squinted. "I believe that's called 'Grinding the Soft Petals At Dawn.'" She shook her head, "Or 'Mountains Crumble To Sand' - I can never keep those two straight."
The tromping of feet signaled the arrival of the Klingon security force, who looked distinctly disappointed that there were so few remaining Nausicans to play with. Several of them moved with grins and a distinctly slow step towards the surf as the others examined the two near the table.
Well, that was that. Ella entered a quick message on her PADD and pushed it over to the aunts.
"LEAVING?" Rexa exclaimed in horror. "But you can't leave now."
"Victor will want to enjoy the fruits of his labor." Ar'resh agreed, her face equally upset.
"His tension...his tension." Rexa began to babble
*DONT WORRY. I'LL SEE HIM LATER. I JUST WOULD LIKE TO WASH UP*
The aunts looked skeptical, but more than that, deeply disappointed. Ella hated to disappoint anyone she genuinely liked; they were so rare. She typed in a quick note and passed it to them. *WOULD YOU PLEASE LEAVE THIS FOR VICTOR? AND PLEASE NOT READ IT?*
Ella gave them both a hug and then left them. She waited till she was safely hidden behind a large umbrella, they were too busy reading the note she had instructed them not to read, to hear their response.
"Oh this is just perfect!" Rexa beamed.
"Even better than our idea about locking the two of them in the changing room together," Ar'resh agreed.
Ella smiled faintly and then made her way back to her room.
****
Ella pulled her wet hair back in a sloppy bun as she ran to get the door. She had made it back home, showered, and had changed into capris and an oversized shirt. Had even had time to put on some makeup. That had to be a record. Victor stood at the door with an unreadable expression on her face. Rather than invite him in, Ella stepped out and shut the door behind her, key in pocket. She walked over to a small table, although small in terms of Klingon architecture was about the size of a dining room table, and sat down. Victor followed.
~~Alright, we need to get this sorted out right now. I don't have a problem with you getting into fights everywhere you go, although it might be nice for once not to. But I'm not going to leave you each and every time it happens.~~
Victor looked up from her fingers to her eyes. "It's my job, Grey - they pay me to do it so you don't have to."
~~But I want to.~~
"Why would you do that?"
Ella looked confused. ~~Because I want to be your friend.~~
He blinked, the final word appearing to give him some trouble. "You already talk to me - why would you want to do anything else?"
~~Why not?~~
"Because." The single word seemed to make sense to him anyway.
>~~That's not an answer.~~
"You talk to me," he repeated slowly. "That's. that's what friends do. They talk."
~~Victor~~ Ella signed sternly. ~~It's more than that. You say you don't want me to get hurt. I would assume you worry over it. I'm allowed to worry about you too. Friendship is about caring, which is probably why I have so few friends. For some reason, I care about what happens to you, so I'm asking you not to push me away all the time. Or at least teach me self defense moves so you won't feel so bad.~~
He closed his eyes for a second, thinking. When he opened them again, they were still confused, but held at least a sense that he knew what he was going to say. "Talking is what I know, Grey. It's what I understand. You're going to have enough trouble doing that - look what happened to Gunny Goldstein after one cup of coffee. Why do you want to make it worse?"
~~Maybe I like a challenge. Maybe cause I want to thank you for saving my life. Maybe cause I see something in you I feel I relate to, or want to relate to at any rate. I don't know, does it really matter?~~
Victor frowned, obviously trying to decide if it *did* matter. "I don't know," he finally decided. "No one ever asked that before."
~~I don't think they're supposed to.~~
"So how do I know if they don't ask? Do I just." His frown deepened. "I'm sorry, I'm not good at this. I haven't had an practice at it."
<RE>
[gap for responses here]
"All right," he sighed. "You win." He leaned back in the chair, shaking his head. "I still think you're crazy, but you win." He frowned at her. "One condition, though: if I tell you to leave again, you go. Or else."
Ella gave him a 'yeah right' look.
"Or else." He paused, obviously trying to think of something that might get her to comply.
~~Or else, you might spank me?~~ Ella signed in the spirit of helpfulness. ~~Put me in the Brig? Force me to wear conservative clothing?~~
Victor made a sound that might have been either a cough or a choked-off attempt at a laugh; it was hard to tell which. ~~I'm serious,~~ he signed.
~~Have it your way~~ Ella replied. ~~But if you abuse the privilege, I'll revoke it. So, enough of all that. Tell me more about your family, or this Krieghoff breath control I've heard about.~~
~ Krieghoff breath control. No, I will *not* ask. ~ "You've already met my aunts. Outside of them, there's just my cousin Greta, her parents, my parents, and about fifty little marriage-minded old ladies and their husbands." He smiled humorlessly. "Family reunions are not for the weak of heart."
~~They sound great~~ She replied. ~~I've only got my parents. They mean well, I guess, but their concept of family includes board members and society snobs.~~
"That sounds. quieter. than my family in a lot of ways." He paused, looking at her oddly. "So your family has a lot of money?"
~~Yes. They say that Earth has monetary equality but I've never seen the proof. Why do you ask?~~
"Just curious, really. I've never talked to anyone that came from a background that had much money in it. You're not what I'd have expected."
Ella raised an eyebrow. ~~Oh?~~ she signed, inviting further conversation, although she was pretty sure what he'd say.
"You're... normal. You don't act like you're better than other people - even the ones you *are* better than. Especially them." He thought for a moment. "And you listen. The few people with money I've arrested couldn't hear anything but the sound of it whispering to them."
Ella found she didn't have a comment for that.
Victor looked at her carefully. "There is one other thing," he said slowly, "that makes you different." He seemed uncertain of the right words to use. "You...haven't laughed at me. Because of my aunts. With me, maybe... but not at me."
She responded with a smile, sometimes that was all that needed. Poor Victor, he really needed to get out more. On impulse, and before he could protest, she gave him a quick peck on his cheek and then got up from the table. ~~I'm meeting my roommate for dinner in a bit. Don't be a stranger, Victor.~~
~ What? Why did...? ~ Victor looked at her, uncertain of what the proper response was, and finally settled on, "All right. Have a good time, Grey."
Ella waved goodbye and went back in her room.
Victor sat and watched the door for a few minutes, then stood and walked away, fighting the impulse to knock and ask why she'd kissed him with every step.
****
".such a nice young girl. So sweet, and pretty too."
"Oh yes, much prettier than that poor Bajoran girl was. Better hips too - and those legs. he had to notice her legs"
"And best of all, she's not afraid of him - and there's that whole romantic rescue to build off of. Now if only he would just."
".admit that he's attracted to her and let things take their course."
".then they could be making love down on the beach in the moonlight for hours. Poor Heinrich needs that so much."
".and I just know that she'd be willing to help him with his shyness problem if we explained it to her."
The two Andorian women at the corner table had been plotting the union of their Heinrich and the girl they'd chosen for him since Curtis had sat down to enjoy a quiet moment watching the ocean from the lounge's veranda. It had only taken a moment to place their voices as those of the two women he'd seen try and fix one of the Galaxy's security officers - Victor Krieghoff - up with a Green Orion a few days earlier, and a quick glance had confirmed what his ears told him.
The women were dressed in white bathing outfits that clung tightly, emphasizing the fact that they were both attractive and in excellent shape. The shorter of the two had her long hair in a braid, and the taller had a pair of sunshades perched on her forehead forward of her antennae.
"I just wish we could convince Heinrich to relax," the shorter sighed. "It's been so long since he's had a lover that I'm afraid that he's going to let her slip on by without."
".realizing that they would be so good together," the taller finished.
Curtis had idly times the gaps between the women's responses, and unless his hearing was off, they were just shy of the time that would indicate that they were telepathic. The difference wouldn't be apparent to anyone but another Kerelian or a machine, but it was there.
"Maybe if we talked to her? If we explained how shy he."
".is and what she needs to do to help him get over it? I'm sure that."
". Lieutenant Grey would understand and be willing to help things along. I know she'd certainly enjoy it."
".since he *is* a Krieghoff man, like our Bernhardt was. Besides, I think that she's hiding a passionate."
".nature every bit as strong as our Heinrich's. If we can just get them to see how good it would be if they were together, Heinrich and Ella would shake the pillars of Heaven with their cries when they made love."
Curtis though he might need to get his ears checked. These two were interesting to say the least. And Ella? We're they talking about Ella? With Lieutenant Krieghoff?
"Hmm... could be amusing..." he said to himself, and decided to make an introduction.
"Pardon me ladies, but I couldn't help but hear you discussing a good friend of mine, Ella Grey. I may be of some help in that area, if you don't mind the interruption." Curtis said, approaching the women.
Both Andorians looked up, smiling. "Oh, hello," the longhaired one greeted him. "Do you really serve with our."
".Heinrich and that nice young Ella Grey?" the taller woman finished seamlessly.
"Yes ma'ams." Curtis addressed them both. "Ella is an old student of mine, and I am familiar with Lt. Krieghoff, if nothing else. I worked with Ella in Engineering for a bit on the ship until I was transferred to OPS. She's a good friend."
"Please, sit down. We haven't met many of our Heinrich's shipmates, and."
".if you're a friend of that dear Ella, then I'm sure you can help us get the two them together." The shorter woman stood up and offered Curtis a hand to shake. "I'm Ar'resh Idrani-Krieghoff, Heinrich's aunt, and this is my sister."
".Rexa Idrani-Krieghoff." The taller woman offered him a hand in turn. "I'm pleased to meet you." She looked down as they shook, as if by reflex.
Curtis took them both. "Curtis Geluf, and the pleasure is all mine ladies."
The two women settled back down into their chairs as Curtis took a seat. "Ella was your student, you say?" Ar'resh shook her head and smiled. "Surely you're not so old as that?"
Curtis laughed, "Only 26. Tell you the truth; teaching WAS a bit strange, being so young. I only did it for a year though, before my wife and I signed up for Galaxy."
Rexa leaned forward. "He's already married," she whispered, the sound inaudible to a normal set of ears.
Ar'resh's smile didn't falter but she sighed. "Have you known Ella long? What can you tell us."
".about her? If she and our Heinrich are going to get together."
".we need to know everything we can to help things along. Heinrich is so shy, he'll never say a thing."
".to her without our help," Rexa explained.
"Well, let's see." Curtis began. "I'm sure you've noticed by now that she doesn't speak."
"We noticed that," Ar'resh confirmed. "She and our Heinrich were talking with their fingers at dinner last night. It was very."
".unfair of them. We couldn't tell what they were saying," Rexa agreed. Her manner shifted, becoming more professional. "Is it a medical condition?"
"It's not a disability really. She is actually quite capable of speech, she just chooses no to do so. It bugs some people, but I don't mind much. She has her reasons. Lately she's become a bit more extroverted, more friendly. She used to really keep to herself. I wouldn't say she has a whole lot of friends on the ship yet, but she isn't exactly anti-social either. We get along just fine, and from what I've heard, she seems to like Victor." Curtis said. "She's kind of cute too," he added, grinning a bit.
"That sounds like she and our Heinrich would be perfect for each other."
".since he keeps to himself too. Even better, she's not bothered by the thing he."
".does to people that makes them afraid of him." Ar'resh seemed relieved at that. "He's really such a nice."
".boy once you get past that fear thing and all the dark looks." Rexa looked thoughtful for a second. "I don't suppose you're one of the ones that."
".isn't bothered either are you? He's found so few of them, but there are more."
".on the Galaxy, he says, than anywhere else."
"Actually, "Ar'resh corrected, "I think he said there were more aboard the Galaxy than all of the others he'd met previously."
"I haven't noticed anything unlikable about Victor." Curtis began, "Maybe I haven't been paying attention, but I think he's a really nice guy."
Rexa looked at her sister. "You've been near him aboard ship? And you haven' t felt. odd?"
"Can't say that I have." said Curtis, "Maybe I just wasn't paying enough attention."
"Then you're not one of the ones it bothers," Ar'resh assured him. "You would have noticed it. It's supposed to be unmistakable."
"Hmm," thought Curtis, "well, what about the two of you?"
"No, Rexa sighed, "its never affected either of us. Heinrich's uncle Bernhard had something like the problem, but we never noticed that either." For a moment sadness and remembered joy moved in equal parts through her eyes.
"We do miss him so." Ar'resh's eyes echoed her sister's as she reached out to take her hand, seeking comfort.
Curtis decided not to ask about such an obvious personal matter. Then, hearing footsteps approach, he turned.
"Am I interrupting?' Victor's approach had been quiet enough that Curtis would have missed it if there had been more background noise. "Rexa, Ar' resh. are you all right?"
"We're fine, Heinrich," Ar'resh sighed. "We were just talking to your shipmate, and your Uncle Bernhard came up and."
".we had to stop for a minute," Rexa finished, squeezing her sister's hand.
"All right," Victor took a good look at Curtis. "Lt. Geluf, isn't it? Our new Ops Chief?" He seemed to be waiting for something.
"Yes indeed Mr. Krieghoff." answered Curtis. "I was just enjoying the company of your aunts."
Victor looked from Curtis to his aunts - and then at Curtis' hand. "I. see. Well then," he pulled out a chair and sat down between Ar'resh and Curtis, "I hope they haven't talked your ears off." He still seemed to be expecting Curtis to say or do something, but that expectation appeared to be fading.
"Heinrich!" Ar'resh glared at him, releasing her sister's hand and swatting him on the arm. "Really! You know we wouldn't do anything like."
".that! Why, the very idea!" Rexa failed to hold her glare any longer. "What kept you? Were you out with that nice young."
"No," Victor cut them off with a sigh. "No, I wasn't - I had some things I needed to take care of. I had to run back up to Galaxy to request some data searches - I thought I recognized someone last night at dinner."
Ar'resh's frown became more serious. "One of the Nausicans?"
Victor nodded. "I'll know for sure later today." He glanced at Curtis. "There was a little trouble with them while we were out at dinner. Nothing serious, but I think at least one of them is wanted over in Bajoran space."
"See what I meant?" Rexa shook her head at Curtis. "There he was, having dinner with Ella, and he spends more time looking at drunk and."
".rowdy Nausican thugs than he does at her," Ar'resh commiserated. "I just don't know what to do with him."
Victor rolled his eyes. "Please. There is nothing happening between the two of us, I just talk to her, that's all."
"If you'd simply let nature take its course." Rexa started.
Victor's eyes cut silently to Curtis, less embarrassed than they were apologetic, but obviously both.
".then the two of you would be so happy together," Ar'resh finished, tilting her head towards Curtis. "Don't you think so?"
Well," he began, "there wouldn't be any harm in some friendly banter at least. Ella's a complicated woman, there's more to her then meets the eye. Even I don't know everything about her, and its safe to say we're fairly close. It might take a little time, but it could work out."
"There, you see?" Ar'resh patted Victor on the arm again. "He thinks you two were made for."
".each other too. Even her friends think you're right for each other."
"He said it *could* work out," Victor observed, making an infinitesimal nod of thanks to Curtis.
"You just don't have any faith in yourself, Heinrich."
".dear. You need to stop thinking like that and take the initiative." Rexa paused. "Just with better taste than you did with that poor."
Victor closed his eyes and almost literally cringed.
".Bajoran girl you were with for so long." Ar'resh looked to Curtis. " She was so wrong for our Heinrich."
".you know. Why, she was even afraid of having sex with him. Not," Rexa added, "that Krieghoff men can't be."
Victor's hand, on the arm of his chair, went white-knuckled.
".intimidating in their needs occasionally - even often - but that's hardly something to be afraid of. Anticipate perhaps, or even."
".long for, but not fear," Rexa sighed. "But she couldn't bring herself to help him satisfy them, no matter the pleasure she."
".would have garnered from the effort." Ar'resh seemed unaware of the soft creaking coming from the chair arm under Victor's hand, but it was quite clear to Curtis. "Doesn't your wife find that to be true, Curtis?"
Curtis felt a twinge of sympathy for Victor, and decided to try to take the attention away from him.
"I think so." Curtis said, "She's very in tune with things like that, she's half Betazoid you know, and I don't need to tell you what that means."
"She is?" Rexa's smile widened. "You're a lucky man, then. Having a partner that."
".understands you and your needs on such an intuitive level like that. Be sure and pay attention to her, you don't."
".want to lose someone that special." Rexa's smile wavered a little. "It's sad that our Heinrich can't find someone like that."
"Why wouldn't he be able to?" Curtis asked, genuinely curious.
"Betazeds are. particularly affected by the thing that he does."
".whatever it is," Ar'resh sighed. "Something about their empathy makes it much worse than it is for most people. Why."
".there's even a notation in his personnel jacket that stipulates that he shouldn't be assigned to work with them in close quarters, even in emergencies."
"Is that so?" Curtis said, wondering what Victor could possibly be hiding that was seemingly so dangerous inside him.
"My first roommate at the academy was a Betazoid," Victor explained dispassionately. "He screamed and jumped out the window when I walked in the first day. We were on the third floor." He shrugged. "That's been about average since then. Better for everyone if I just stay out of their way."
"Now Heinrich," Ar'resh corrected him. "You know that's no way to talk. I'm sure that there's some..."
"...nice young Betazoid woman that would love to meet you - and would find you perfectly wonderful."
Victor's expression left little doubt as to how likely he thought that was.
"Why," Rexa suggested, unwilling to pass up an opportunity,"maybe Curtis's wife knows someone - a family member perhaps - that is looking..."
"...for a young man to settle down with and make a life together." Ar'resh looked at Curtis questioningly. "Does your wife have a sister?"
"No, sorry, just 2 brothers. She's got quite a few cousins on the Betazoid side though." Curtis said. He had shifted in his seat slightly when Victor had described the roommate. He wondered if Kiora would be subject to the same thing. But then again, she was only half-Betazoid.
"Do you think that she might be willing to..." Rexa started.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Victor interrupted. "All of the experiences I've had trying to meet Betazoids have turned out the same way - bad. I wouldn't want to damage Curtis' relationship with his wife's family if it happened again. There might not be a handy shrubbery to break their fall."
"You see how nice he is?" Rexa asked Curtis. "So considerate..."
"...so willing to help others," her sister added. "Why the best he's been ab le to do was that poor Bajoran..."
"Look at the time!" Victor made a show of checking the wall chronometer. "Don't you two have appointments for a pampering session at the resort's spa?"
"Oh dear me, yes!" Ar'resh exclaimed. "I totally forgot!" She started to stand up. "You will excuse us, won't..."
"...you, Curtis?" Rexa finished, standing as well. "We have to run and make sure no one else gets those twin Deltan masseurs...."
"Of course!" Curtis replied. "It was a pleasure to meet you ladies."
The two departed with alacrity, leaving Victor looking at Curtis. "I'm sorry, sir," he said mildly when Curtis turned back to him. "They're a little hard to take the first time." He thought for an instant. "The second and third, too."
Curtis laughed, "We're on shore leave Victor. I think we can leave the ranks behind for now, call me Curtis, please."
Victor nodded slowly. "All right." ~ Why are people trying to be nice to me? Is it some contaminant in the atmosphere? ~
"They're not so bad." Curtis said, "Energetic I'd say. Oh, and that incident at the cafe, don't worry, I'll take it to my grave."
"I appreciate the thought, but it's likely already too late." Victor shrugged. "It'll just be something new for the rumormongers to talk about. At least this one will have the virtue of actually being true." His voice was flat and emotionless, almost machinelike to Curtis' ears. "Not like it matters anyway."
"Oh, well, all the same." Curtis said.
"You should take all that about Lt. Grey as wishful thinking on their part, too. Rexa and Ar'resh saw me speak to her and decided that since she didn't run screaming, that she was one step away from perfect for me." Victor paused, something he hadn't thought of before striking him. "That probably won't save her from the rumor mill either. It only took one cup of coffee for Gunny Goldstein and I to have an illegitimate child together, what they' ll do with what Ar'resh and Rexa are saying will be worse."
"Hmm. Yes, that may be a problem. You and Ella don't need that kind of thing floating around." Curtis said, concerned. "You might get lucky though, this could all go away. You never know."
Victor's look went beyond merely skeptical. "I suppose there could be a first time." When he saw Curtis' look he added, "People talk about things - and people - they don't like. People don't like me. Simple as that. I'm used to it. Grey would have been thrown in the grinder just because she talked to me, even if my aunts weren't here. Because they are, it'll be worse. Much worse."
Curtis, finally mustering the courage, decided to try and figure the man out.
"Victor, I just don't understand. WHY don't people like you? I mean, we've been talking here for a few minutes now and I don't feel any need to get up and leave the table. I'm enjoying myself. I think you're a likable guy personally."
Victor simply looked at him for a moment. "I don't know what it is that do," he said finally. "My mother ran tests and she couldn't figure it out in seventeen years. They ran them again at the Academy - and they couldn't decide what it is, either. Low-level psionics, pheromones, quantum frequency resonance - they would have kept on coming up with tests if I hadn't refused. Whatever it is, I just have to walk near people and they." he sighed. Watch - it's easier this way."
Standing, Victor made a slow tour of the veranda, passing three occupied tables. The first all shrank back in their chairs, eyeing him like they were sheep and a wolf had walked into their pen. The second set were reacting before he got within two meters, one of them dropping a fork her hands were shaking so badly and the other moving her chair so she could see victor at all times as he passed by. The third set drew the most dramatic results, when one of the men seated there went white and scrabbled backwards so fast his chair fell over, not stopping until he was a good six meters away and even then obviously reluctant to return any closer.
Throughout the entire walk, Victor had nodded and smiled pleasantly, hadn't tried to appear threatening. He'd just. walked.
"You see?" he sighed, as he sat back down, half the veranda eyeing him. "That was normal - except for the man at the end, I think he was Betazoid. That's about the reaction I draw from them."
Curtis was shocked beyond words. What was it about this man that could make people behave that way?
"Victor...I don't know what to say. I just don't understand. What is it, then, that makes Ella and myself able to talk with you without feeling anything?" Curtis asked.
'I don't know." Victor's voice sounded odd to Curtis. "You just do. I suppose that it would depend on whom you talked to as to whether they thought it was good or a bad thing that it doesn't bother you. Most would say bad."
"But surely there must be others who aren't affected?" Curtis asked.
"It doesn't bother Vulcans," Victor volunteered. "A few others are like Betazoids. One or two races seem to think it's attractive - but humans?" he shrugged. "Since I graduated from the Academy, I eat in my rooms mostly, work late shifts, and try to stay out of people's way. Easier for everyone like that."
It finally hit Curtis what was so odd. Victor seemed emotionless, almost like a Vulcan, but even MORE so, if that was possible. Curtis wasn't even sure if Victor was registering anything he was saying on any level other than acknowledgement.
"Victor? Are you...ok?" Curtis asked. "I mean, maybe not OK, but well...I don't know what I mean."
Victor looked at him for a moment. "It's what is," he said finally. "It doesn't turn off and it doesn't lessen with extended contact. People are scared of me. People hate what they fear. It's as simple as that. Nothing to lose sleep over."
"I really doesn't bother you? I mean, not even a little?" Curtis asked. "I just feel like everyone should have people to talk to."
"Would letting it bother me solve anything? I can't change it, so I learned to live with it." He blinked once. "Talking to people is all right, though. I just haven't found many who will. Discounting family, just five - no, six, now, if Grey really means it."
"That's all?" Curtis asked. "Are you sure there aren't any more?"
"No. Like I told Grey, it's that many since I was born, all since I joined Starfleet." Victor didn't seem to realize how painful it was to listen to him describe a life that would have driven Curtis crazy. "Three of them since I posted to the Galaxy, one at the Academy, and two on ships I served on back in the War. They're both dead now."
"Oh, I'm sorry. That's terrible." Curtis said.
"People die in wars, it's the way things work. They just pay us to do it so the people back safe in their beds stay that way." Victor frowned. "That was what you meant, right?"
"Well...yeah. But I mean, its bad that there aren't more people you have that you can really talk with." Curtis said.
"Oh. Then... maybe it is, I don't know." He looked across the veranda at the empty tables where the people he'd walked past had been seated. "I can't tell for sure - this is all I know." He looked back eyes still painfully untroubled. "So... do you think you can stand to have a cup of coffee once in a while?"
"Well sure Victor, I'd love to." Curtis said, studying the man with renewed vigor. Looking for something...but he wasn't sure what.
"Just remember, I'm not winning any contests for popularity back aboard ship," Victor cautioned. "You'll catch some flack over it, maybe something nasty." He frowned. "Your wife might wind up with some of it too. Do you need to check with her first?"
"She'd say the same thing I'm about to. Anyone who feels that much need to know about who I hang around with is a pretty sad excuse for an officer. Besides, I'm a senior staff member on a federation flagship. I think I'm entitled to make my own friends," said Curtis.
"All right then," Victor nodded. "If you're sure..." He turned towards the empty seats again. "If it starts to be a problem, let me know and I'll quit bothering you. Even a week or two of talking to someone new is worth it."
"You won't have to quit, I see no reason to worry about it," said Curtis.
"I'm in Security, they pay me to be paranoid." Victor turned back and studied Curtis intently. "I don't understand it - maybe there's some pollen in the air or something that makes people want to talk to me here. First Grey, and now you. Maybe I should have come here sooner."
Curtis laughed a bit, "I don't think it's anything like that. I just think you're a nice guy Victor. Anytime you want to talk, don't think twice."
Victor nodded slowly. "I normally work Gamma shift, but I'll be around." He stood and started to move away, but stopped and looked back at Curtis for a moment. "I'm really not that nice a person," he said seriously. "You should probably remember that, just in case." Without waiting to see Curtis' response, he turned and moved away, a wake of startled looks, and retreating guests behind him.
[Takes place immediately before "Sugar and Spice, and Everything Nice. . . . .and Videotape."]
****
"He's not going to be late, is he?" Ar'resh looked distressed. "I know we're here a little early."
".but it's not *that* early, is it? We wouldn't want to look too eager," Rexa admitted.
Victor eyed his aunts. They were wearing matching white dresses, cut to show off their forms as well as allow them to move without being constrained. Victor preferred to think of the reason for that as dancing. Anything else was dangerous territory. Ar'resh had her hair down in a fall of silver, and Rexa had dusted hers with a spray of tiny crystals that glittered in he light outside the Café.
"The only thing you'll look is beautiful," he assured them.
Both women smiled, and Ar'resh reached up to touch his cheek. "Now why can't you say things like that to other people? Say to that."
".pretty young Ella who's so interested in you? I bet she'd enjoy hearing that from you."
Victor sighed. "She talks to me - and not about things like that. That's all there is."
"You really shouldn't close yourself off like that, Heinrich," Rexa frowned. "If you'd just."
".open up and let people see what kind of person you are, maybe you'd realize that they could do more than talk. Even that poor."
~ God spare me, please. ~
".Bajoran girl had to see something in you, or she wouldn't have moved in with you back on Deep Space Nine."
~ God? Something? Anything? ~ Victor glanced around, and almost sighed with relief. "Here he is, right on time."
Both aunts turned, smiles spreading across their faces.
James was a handsome spectacle (if he could bother himself to even try on some days). Gone was his simple, eccentric look of straight blonde hair, glasses, and a simple Starfleet uniform. Now, the strapping young man was decked out in... straight blonde hair, sunglasses, and a simple suit.
WHAT THE HELL?!?!?!
The suit itself was an improvement. Black on white, a pair of pants with a suit jacket, a white turtleneck made of some wool (that reacted negatively to sweat by itching), and meticulously shined black shoes. Such simple additions were all James needed to look handsome on a night out.
At least, Ar'resh and Rexa tended to agree. Their gaze was frozen in enrapturement.
"Ladies." James bowed his head slightly. He let out his arms, resting his hands near his hips. Both women eagerly slipped their arms around his, and as they fawned over the handsome security chief, James led them to their table.
~ I can tell he's done this before. ~ Victor's eyes narrowed. ~ He was a rock star. Maybe I ought to give O'Rourke a call, just in case. I *did* promise her that I'd tell her before I . no, no need. He said he wasn't going to do that, and I believe him. ~
Victor followed them to the table, conspicuous in his lack of accompaniment. Smiling pleasantly, he sat down on Ar'resh's left. "We were worried you might be running late, sir." ~ I can always call her later if I have to kill the Commander. ~
~"Kill me now."~ James wistfully thought as the Andorian twins cut the circulation out of both his arms. He didn't like crowds, a harking back to his anti-social days at the academy. He didn't like the woolen sweater that was itching like Gvarian gnatfleas on a feeding frenzy. He didn't like Andorian physical strength, and how the two women could tear him in two if they weren't careful. He didn't like that his inexperience at dating might or might not get him in more trouble than he already found himself in. And most of all, he didn't like the predicament he managed to get himself into. Two seemingly desperate women, clinging onto him like leeches, and worse yet, they were groupies of a rock band he founded and broke up.
~"Please God, kill me now."~ He begged to the heavens.
James led the two women to their seats, pulling each seat out kindly, as expected of a gentleman twice his social status. The two Andorians blushed, giggled, and fawned in admiration, and graciously sat down.
~"Good... that is over."~ James thought to himself, ~"This should be just like a planetary drop. I come in, order, talk shop, eat, and run like hell before the enemy gets the drop on me. No problem, right?"~
"James," Ar'resh smiled, hand on his arm. "You don't have anything to do in the morning, do."
".we were thinking that we could stay out until the café closed, and then."
".keep transporting across the planet from club to club, racing the sunrise."
"...to make the night last longer," Rexa suggested, shifting her chair so that she was closer to James
~"Oh god, I spoke too soon."~ Corgan sighed, and said, "Sure, ladies! Sounds like fun!" ~"I really ought to learn how to shut up or say no..."~
"Oh good," Ar'resh beamed. "I knew you'd want to. Just think what it'll be like, the three of us."
".racing faster and faster."
".trying to keep ahead of that."
".burst of light, knowing that."
".we're going to lose, but trying to."
".make it last as long as we can before.
".it overtakes us and washes us away." Ar'resh leaned her head onto James' shoulder and shivered. "Breathless and exhausted."
".but needing more," Rexa agreed, her hand slipping out to cover James' almost shyly. "Much, much more."
Sheepishly, James shrunk back, "You know, that was very poetic. It takes a romantic soul to make such poetry." ~"Oh god, what am I saying? Getmeoutgetmeoutgetmeout!!!"~
He added, "What are you searching for? A quick fix, an escape, or something more permanent? In the end, running from the sun can be futile... or even dangerous, unless we know exactly what we are looking for, and what we actually need."
The two women sighed, and Ar'resh slipped her fingers through his. "I knew you'd understand."
".the loneliness," Rexa's eyes dropped to the table. "The emptiness that fills the nights when you."
".reach for the one that completes you, and they're."
".not there next to you anymore," Rexa closed her eyes. "The longing to be complete."
'...once more. To be fulfilled again as only a husband."
".partner."
".and lover."
".can make you."
"Wait... perhaps I should rephrase that." James stuttered, taking his comment back, "What I'm trying to say is that there's plenty of time. Slow down. Savor it. Make sure it's the right thing to do."
~ He looks like a trapped rat. ~ Victor waved for service, placing an order for black coffee then looking across the table. "If you're going to be up all night, you should probably stick to fruit juice," he suggested.
Rexa looked at her sister, then nodded. "That's a good idea." She placed a order for a non-alcoholic beverage based on a native Bajoran fruit.
Ar'resh duplicated the order, then looked at James. "What would you like, James?" she whispered, from her position on his shoulder.
"Ummmm.... beer!" James piped, unsure of himself, "Yes... beer! I would like a beer! A nice, tall... glass of... beer! Yes. Please. Beer..."
Victor looked at James and shook his head. "Make his a fruit juice too," he instructed the server. ~ You need to keep your wits about you, sir. Other wise you'll be one of the family - or dead. ~
"I said beer..."~"I don't want to remember this..."~ James hissed under his breath. He uneasily glanced at Victor, almost indicating that he needed a way out before the sisters took him on their planned night on the town. The vivid memory of the last time he had an all-nighter on Lanjep was fresh in his memory. Coincidentally, it also involved cute Andorian women, clubs, and lots of trouble. ~"God I want out..."~ James glanced from side to side, looking for an escape.
To one side, the small dance floor started to fill up, and Victor caught James' eye and looked towards it significantly ~ Come on. Sir, if you can't talk to them, at least dance a free rounds to slow them down.. ~
"Ummm... waiter?" James cautiously raised his arm, "I'd like to order. Ummm... bregit lung in targgoth placental wrapping, with a side order of fresh LanJepi spiders, sun dried fireweed in molten lava dressing, and gagh, lots of gagh, please."
The Klingon waiter didn't look too serious about the order. In fact, the burly Klingon in the battle armor with the order PADD didn't place his order just yet. He looked down at the offworlder scoldingly, laughed, and bellowed, "Is that all, Terran? I didn't realize we were in a Terran bistro. Is that how you people order on Earth?"
"As a matter of fact..." James argued.
But was cut short, "And that is all? Are you ordering from the children's menu?"
James sighed, slammed down his tablecloth, and stood toe to toe with the Klingon waiter. "Look, pally boy. The lung better be rare, and the gagh better be live and fresh, the portions better be enough to choke a targgoth. I also want my friends to be served with the same courtesy, quality, and respect that I'm demanding from you and your staff... or I'm going force feed the whole thing, mine and my friends' meals, up your bloated ass until my honor is satisfied. Got it?"
Deadpanned, the Klingon looked at the brave (and quite possibly dead) offworlder. There was a moment of awkward silence. Then... the Klingon broke out in a booming fit of laughter.
After the waiter stopped, he replied, "That's much better, Terran. You want to eat at a Klingon restaurant, you must order and eat like a Klingon!"
"Hey, when in Rome..." James shrugged.
"Your meal will come right away. As for the rest of you..."
~ Great, more food that's alive and wants to escape. ~ Victor barked out his order with a suggestion that if the meat weren't rare enough he'd cut some off the waiter to eat instead. ~ Someone ought to explain to them that Annelids are not a primary food group. ~
Ar'resh and Rexa barked their orders out in Klingon, drawing an approving nod from the waiter, even if they refused his suggested vintage of bloodwine. "We want out wits about us for later," Ar'resh explained, one hand on James' arm.
"Yeah... no telling... what will... happen..." Corgan drolled, slowing with each word, feeling the Andorians' hands slip around him like snakes.
The waiter laughed and punched James in the arm, enviously eyeing the Andorian sisters. "Your meals will come in one half of your Terran hours. Meanwhile... enjoy the festivities." The Klingon waiter waved towards the dance floor, as plenty of Klingon and offworlders alike were dancing to the strangest Klingon Rock Opera James had ever heard (and he heard plenty!).
"Let's dance," Ar'resh suggested, tugging gently on James' arm.
"Yes," Rexa agreed. "I'd like that.
"But I can't..."
Corgan's pitiful plea to desist didn't have a chance to come out of his mouth before he found himself on the dance floor. Aliens and Klingons alike were shoving and grooving to the music.
Victor watched the pair draw James off to the dance floor, watching them as they elbowed a few patrons out of the way to ensure they had enough room for the three of them. ~ He'll be safe enough there for a while - they won't do anything too embarrassing with all those people around. ~ He looked around the café, noting the exits and checking for ay faces he remembered from bulletins. ~ Nope, no one here is wanted - at least, they aren't wanted for anything I'm arresting them for. ~
Nervously, James looked for escape, but found none. He was hedged in by grooving bodies, and kept contained by two hot-to-trot sisters on a warpath to love. With no escape, James had nothing to do... but dance his way out.
He grooved to the music, synchronizing the best he could with the sisters. Finding it difficult to dance with two partners, James looked around for Victor. ~"Where the hell is he? Oh no..."~ James thought of his worse fear, ~"Oh... nonono! He decided to ditch me! That f**king bastard! He is so going to pay tomorrow morning if he doesn't get me out of this..."~
"You're a very good dancer."
".we've seen you dance so many times."
".but we never dreamed that we'd be able to dance *with* you."
"Ummm... thanks?" Corgan squeaked, while thinking, ~"Victor! Get me the hell out of this! I hate dancing!"~
The twins inched their way closer to James. Feeling the heat of their bodies coming closer, the chief of security tried to shy himself away. Inching towards the edge of the dance floor, the twin sisters saw what he was trying to do. Coyly, they both grabbed him, one arm for each girl, and dragged him into the middle of the pit.
~"Victor!!!!!!!!!!!!"~ James pleaded to heaven.
Victor smiled as the trio made their way back to the table twenty minutes later. ~ From the look of things he's going to get a few minute's peace. ~
True to the thought, Rexa and Ar'resh excused themselves to go 'freshen up' and Victor slid a juice across the table to James after he sat down. "I think this'll help you keep focused, sir. You want your wits about you tonight. Much better for that than the beer you ordered."
"Victor... I don't drink alcohol." He confirmed, "Unless I really need to. I don't know what to do, I don't know how to politely get out of this... and you know what? I don't have an excuse. Your aunts are actually nice people. The only problem is... they take things a bit fast. I figure if I get somewhat plastered, I'll end up forgetting the whole damn thing. Sounds like a plan, doesn't it?"
"I think that if you let your judgment become impaired, you're going to wake up one of the family, sir."
"Hmmm... don't want to wake up with another surprise. Fine, I won't get wasted. Why, I remember the last time I got drunk." The chief of security recalled, "It was at the academy, at a party. Next thing I knew, I woke up with a bunch of Orion strippers. Green ones, at that. Took me forever to get that bob out of my mouth..."
~ I think there were things I never needed to know about you, sir - and that was one of them. ~ "I think that if you can get them talking about something besides romance - difficult though that might be - you'll be all right, sir." Victor caught a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. "Here they are now, sir."
"That was just wonderful," Ar'resh sighed as she slid back into her seat. "You're really."
".very good, James," Rexa continued. "Where did you learn that step you used to keep us circling around."
".you like that? It made the whole dance much more engaging."
"Uhhh.. it was fun." James fibbed convincingly.
"AhhhH! YOU THERE!" The burly Klingon waiter bellowed, "I have your food, as you requested! You will find it to your satisfaction, for my honor's sake."
The food was as requested. Most of it was live. The gagh was squirming in large, brass, saucer like plates, and they had the smell of earth and water. The spiders twitched in a piled mass in one large brass bowl to the side, as the waiter slammed cups of dipping sauces next to the gagh and spiders. The bregit lung came next as mounds of pinkish, soft meat, steam rising from each chunk into the already thick air. Lastly, a red leafed salad smothered in a sauce that was a brighter red, and also steaming, giving off the aroma of pungent spices.
"Enjoy your meal." The Klingon snarled, leaving to wait another table.
James surveyed the still living components of the meal, and announced, "You know what they say on Quo'nos. If it moves... eat it. Let's dine."
~ Oh joy. My food is here. ~ Victor examined the array of utensils before him, looked at the food, and then back at the utensils. ~ I think they left the wide-angle disruptor out. ~ He forced a smile, reached out with a fork, and speared the least animate things available, starting with them.
After a few minutes and one attempted escape by one of the appetizers, Rexa smiled up from her salad, her lips a disturbing red color. "James, there's something."
".I've been meaning to ask you,' Ar'resh nodded.
James forked a generous serving of gagh onto his plate, "Do tell. Oh, and try the spiders. They are exceptionally... crunchy."
"Well, having seen all of your holos so many times I can't."
".count them, there's just one thing that I've been dying to ask for."
".years. Do you mind? It's a little personal."
Staring down at the writhing mass of spiders, worms, and steaming hunks of organ meats, James thought twice about consuming his meal. Remembering his first taste of Klingon cuisine (and the offerings to the porcelain alter afterwards), his fork hesitantly speared a helpless spider. With the fork shaking in his fingertips, he brought it up to his mouth, and slid the arachnid inside. He chewed, swallowed, and forced his gag reflex to stay down.
"Ask... away..." Corgan shivered in revulsion as he tried one of the gagh worms.
"Were the stories about those personality conflicts between you and the drummer.
"...on your first tour really what happened, or was there more to it?"
"Oh that?" James jested, "No. The drummer and I are good friends. We stay in touch, which he does a lot since he's on some isolated listening post on Chin'toka. And technically, we only did about five shows, mostly in the North American continent. It's a wonder we became a cult classic at all... with so few shows."
He dipped a spider in an orange paste, and swallowed it down. At least the sauce was able to make the creature palatable.
"Oh I knew that was..."
"...all just something the promoters."
"...made up to sell tickets. Just like that."
"...story about you and the pretty young Vulcan girl."
"...who was in the band."
"Well... I was good friends with the Vulcan keyboardist." James admitted, embarrassed, "I... we... had something going. But it was an emergency and whatnot. I'd rather not go into it, but just say we are still friends. She's currently on the USS Tokyo as their chief science officer."
"Really?" Ar'resh seemed genuinely pleased. "She had such a."
"...good pair."
"...of hands on the."
"....keyboard, but I'm glad she."
"...found success the same way you did, James."
He next sampled the bregit lung. The taste was surprisingly good, like a tender, rare steak. Finally! Some Klingon food he could like! "So, anything else you're interested in." Blankly, he looked at the twins, "About the band, that is."
"Well." The sisters looked at each other. "I was wondering."
"...if that story about the."
"...two groupies."
".the stuffed mugato..."
".and the band's road manager was true?"
~ Oh God, they'll be like this all night, now. Good for the Commander. Bad for me. ~
James brought down his urge to panic. ~"Oh god... they heard about that?"~ He fretfully thought. The road manager incident was not supposed to be breathed outside the music profession, much less anywhere near Starfleet officers! Frantically going into damage control mode, James replied, "NO! Not at all! Nothing happened between the road manager, the groupies, or any stuffed animal. Trust me on that." ~"Please? Oh god, I hope they haven't heard about the one about me, a case of Romulan Ale, and three Orion strippers..."~
The aunts looked disappointed for a moment, then Ar'resh perked up, asking, "Well then, what about the."
".story that we picked up on Risa about."
".the trio of Orion exotic dancers."
".and their case of bootleg."
".Romulan ale sneaking into your."
".room during the charity concert you gave there."
".to support Kling-Off, the Klingon colony resettlement project?"
Raising the alarm, James nearly bolted out of his seat and ran like his ass was on fire. Definitely not one of his proudest moments, Corgan was having a hard time concealing his embarrassment. "Ummmmm... where did you hear that one from? It never happened! Honest! Never happened! Never never never never never..."
He heard his com-badge chirp for attention. =/\="Lieutenant O'Rourke to Commander Corgan. Come in, Commander."=/\=
~"Thank god... saved by the bell."~ He tapped it lightly, relief washing over his face. "This is Commander Corgan. How can I help you, Lieutenant?"
=/\="Thank god you're around, sir! We're under an emergency security lockdown! The captain's desk is gone, and we're looking everywhere on the ship."=/\=
Though relieved to find an exit out of his date, James was nonetheless displeased, "And you haven't found it yet?"
=/\="Sensors are still buggy, sir! We can't find manure in a sack of fertilizer without them!=/\=
"Then you're going to have to get dirty, O'Rourke. I'll be there right away to assist. You, meanwhile, contact Arbiter Lieutenant Tem'stra of the LanJepi Police Authority, in case the desk was transported planetside. Over and out."
James glanced at his two date's disappointed faces. "I'm sorry, ladies. I have to leave due to an emergency. It has been a... wonderful evening." He bowed, speaking diplomatically, "Victor, escort these wonderful ladies home, and come to the Galaxy after you are done."
~ I wonder how much you paid her for that call, sir - whatever it was, you got your latinum's worth. ~ "Aye, sir."
The aunts both insisted ion kissing James good-bye - each taking a cheek and kissing hi at the same time. Victor couldn't keep track of their hands - and truthfully didn't want to try - but he did note a slightly wide-eyed look in Corgan's eyes as he departed.
Heinrich," Ar'resh sighed, turning from watching Corgan vanish through the doors. "What was that really all about? The captain's desk? And if it was a full lockdown, he couldn't beam up."
~ Damn. ~ "It's a lockdown, Ar'resh - O'Rourke wouldn't make a scam call like that if her life depended on it." He settled back into his chair. The rest was. code."
"Code?"
"The captain's desk was the code phrase for the actual problem - I can't tell you what it stands for, I'm not cleared for that. Commander Corgan was, and you saw the way he snapped to and ran out, so it had to be important. If I had to guess, I'd say that the man he told O'Rourke to contact might be another code phrase -probably to a prearranged site for shuttle pick-up or something."
Ar'resh relaxed. "I knew it was something like that."
"So," Rexa asked. "What do we do now?"
"I think." Ar'resh mused. "That we ought to go and see if Seeva is dancing again tonight, and then."
441