The Year Of 815

“Wealthy.”

Diplomat Ramir Omar.
Shop Owner Selena. Non-Player Character.

"Boarding once again, and Medieval times"

by Ensign Kira Murphy, Kira Murphy, Royal Court Jester/one of the town prostitutes (oh, and year 815 for the end bit)

+++ Shuttle enroute to USS Galaxy +++

Kira sat down in the back of the shuttle, wriggling in the chains and ballgag that the pilot and two other officers had put her in. She supposed it was the twenty-third rendition of 1000 bottles of beer on the wall that had done it, but she wasn't sure.

They had just all jumped up simultaneously and held her in a chair while one of them tied her up.

At least they hadn't shut off her anti-grav suit and ever hour, they gave her some water.

Finally, there was a collective sigh of relief when the pilot announced they were dropping out of warp near the Galaxy. The speed that the shuttle landed and dumped her along with her stuff before rocketing out was extraordinary. Picking up a closed cage, she stuck her finger in and giggled when it was licked.

Smiling to one of the shocked crewman in the bay, she headed over to a Lt from Security who looked like he were waiting for, "Hiya! My name's Kira."

"I know, Ensign Murphy. Here is your quarters assignment and list of some locations you might be interested in. Due to your record, we at Security has listed a long list of places they will happily 'kick your butt' if you enter."

"Okey dokey. I'm not that bad."

"Yeah, right. One of the guys jokingly printed out your record, and I saw how big it was. Just don't go starkers in front of the captain or Chief, try to stay out of trouble, and I'm sure you will be ok. I've got orders to lead you to your quarters, which have been adjusted for you already. What's in the container?"

"Oh, my pet Fluffy. I'll get him out to show you."

Putting the cage down, she opened it and reached inside, her back to the security officer. Turning quickly, she held out Fluffy to him, "Fluffy, meet Mr Security Guard."

The Lt jumped in surprise, backwheeling quickly, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK?? You can't bring a skunk aboard a starship!!"

"I checked the regs and Fleet Medical okayed him. He doesn't spray.. unless you poke him. I sent along plans for a skunk-proof pen anyway."

"Urgh.. Just keep him away from us, and don't let him roam. I would hate to see what the captain would do. Probably put him in an airlock and space him."

Kissing Fluffy, she put him back in his cage before following on.

**************

After Kira had fed Fluffy and left him some water in his escape-proof pen, she stopped off at medical..

**************

Arriving at Ten Forward, she joined up with some old friends she knew. Wishing Autumn was still around, she shrugged. It was a pity that the door carvings were gone, coz she heard so much of them. Maybe if she hunted around, she might be able to find them at some point.

In the corner, she spotted the Chief Engineer talking with some of the aliens. At some point, she would also have to talk to him about seeing if she could arrange for some help with a couple of modifications to the Paediatrics ward. She was thinking that maybe a robot dog might be good.

She moved around the room, saying hello to all the people know. The glare she got from the captain told her to stay away though, so she headed over to see someone she missed. Grinning, she sprang out and grabbed Bosco tightly, laughing.

Spinning, he smiled, "Ohh.. Kirrrra Murrphy. Surrprrrised you arren't nude alrready."

Giggling, she smiled, "Nah, I didn't think a diplomatic incident would be a good idea on my first day. Will wait till tommorrow."

Chatting for awhile, she spotted one of the Upanishads over in the corner and started to head over. She heard they were hairless, and she was curious as to whether it was everywhere or not.

**************

Year 815, Town of Galaxia....

Kira moaned loudly as she hang in the chains of the castle dungeon. Maybe it hadn't been a bright idea to drop rotten eggs on the captain of the Castle Guards. What did he expect from the Royal Court Jester, eh?

Her job was to make people laugh, and oh boy, people had laughed at him.. All the time as he chased her through the castle and then dragged her kicking and screaming down to the dungeon before ordering her to be chained from the roof before leaving to wash the egg off & get changed.

Shivering since a couple of the guards had decided to strip her jester's clothes off first, she hoped that she wouldn't be left up much longer.

Hearing someone walking towards her down a corridor, she wiggled a bit to try and warm up. Seeing it was one of the nicer guards, she smiled.

"You must be really sorry at the moment."

Nodding, she replied, "Yes, I am sorry about egging the captain. It was only a joke though."

"Everything is a joke to you, Kira. Got good news though. The captain says you can come down now."

She smiled as he undid the chains, allowing her to stretch her sore arms.

The guard handed her jester's outfit that had been removed back to herand smiled, "You must be really cold. Any way we can help?"

Licking her lips, she smiled, "Yes, there is."

Dropping the outfit, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him on the mouth. Holding her close, he felt her body rubbing against his through his armour.

"Why don't I help you out of that stuff?"

Undoing the clasps, she let it fall to the ground and quickly helped him out of the rest.

Moaning loudly as he pushed her against the wall, she gurgled as he took one of her nipple rings in his mouth and pulled on it. Shuddering, she felt him lift her up off the ground and wrapped her long legs around him as he pushed forwards, roughly impaling her womanhood on his shaft.

Screaming, Kira shook as he thrust in and out of her, delighting in the whole experience. Kira shook, thrashing in his arms as her mind centered down on her lily.

With Kira's energetic writhing and bouncing, it wasn't long before the guard followed as well, setting her off more.

When they both came down, he lowered her down to the ground and smiled, "The others want to help you as well."

She grinned, "Bring them on."

He nodded and left. A few moments later, two guards walked in and started stripping, while Kira got down on her hands and knees.

Groaning as she was entered from behind, she took the other in her mouth, rocking between them as they used her body like she wanted it badly.

**************

About four hours and most of the guard staff later..

Kira walked up the stairs from the dungeon, dressed in her lime green jester's suit complete with red and yellow stripes & blue buttons but quite sore down below. She was happy though, and had enjoyed it a lot..

Next time though, she was sure the Captain wouldn't be soo lenient. Although, she was pretty sure that maybe, he might have other more interesting means of dealing with her. Some of the rumors could actually be true..

Heading to the stairs that led to her tower room, she smiled when she saw Fluffy, her pet skunk, poking his head out the door. Grabbing him, she smiled, "You know that you shouldn't go exploring. Last time you got out, the Count found you hiding in his wife's underwear draw and put me in the stocks for four days without clothes."

Entering her very disarrayed room, she put Fluffy down once she closed the door. Picking up her bongo drums & juggling balls, she smiled.

Maybe an afternoon performing might help amuse her and stop her from getting in trouble

OOC: Whoever is head castle guard, sorry *ROFLMAO*

Loosely based on "Another Life I"...

"THE RETURN OF LEO STREELEY!!!!!!!"

Starring.... the man, the myth, the Lovemonkey, that sonnava-Q and the NPC wholly owned and used here with the permission and KNOWLEDGE of Joe Ammo and Liam (being the slobs who created the lil jackass in the first place) but written by Olga this time around, cuz she writes Lysander and is married to one of the slobs...

and making free use of Rebecca (Thanks Chris!) since it's an 'alternate reality' thingy.

LEO STREELEY, INTERDIMENSIONAL MAN OF MYSTERY AND ADVENTURE!(autographs $1.20 after the post, no cheques.)

Year 815, Kingdom of Galaxia

"Is it not true, that verily , I am the RICHEST Peer within the Realm? Even that scurvy knave of a Bhrode doth tender homage to me upon bent knee, doth he not?" Emperor Leo the MCMLXVIIth shouted(known to his subjects as “Leo the So-So”) demanded , his voice ringing off the fifty acres of the marbeled Hall of the Throne within the Citadel of Streeley, overlooking the Plains of Willing Wenches beneath the Mountains of Big Boozoomas, which loomed in majesty over the bizzare collection of buildings and farms clinging to the cliffside.

"Errr... rather smegging rich...Sir...but...foresooth...." murmered Duke Lysander, Leo's sensechenal and aide-de-camp, nervously.

"I'm bigger than the KING himself!" squealed Leo, who in truth was more rotund!

"Maybe the pre-vegas King, you know, when he was in the Army and all..." murmered the Duke soothingly.

"Liberace didn't top 290 pounds until AFTER he died! Be it not true that I am not the EMPEROR of all I see? Am I not the Studmuffin amongst ALL studmuffins? Do I not cutteth the Big Cheese around here?" His Imperial Rotundness demanded, one Bhrode-skinned boot tapping in Imperial fury.

"Daily, your Excellencey...you cutteth the Big Cheese..." murmered Prince Lysander's counterpart, The Dowager Duchess Rebecca. Burdened under a pile of scrolls and hidebound ledgers, his chief financial advisor looked distracted.

"Darn tooting! So? Therefore....?" demanded His Studliness, hands on chubby hips under his diamond studded Robes of Imperial Splendor from Ye Olde Kingsn'Such Shortn'Big Shoppe.

The Duke and the Princess exchanged thinly clad looks of confusion and disbelief, each clearly hoping the other be the one to bring the Emperor back to reality.

Duke Lysander heaved a sigh and capitualted.

"Smegging Princess..." he muttered, glaring at Rebecca, who toasted him with one tiny raspberry from her dainty lips. "I suppose.. the Imperial treasury would extend to...errr... this smegging Building project...Sir...but..." Lysander muttered.

"Soooooo... I GET verily the biggest tower in existance? And such tower shall be evermore modeled after the glory that is my man-root? In pure Latinum? A Wonder of the Worlde?? " Leo demanded.

"Yes, Your Excelleny, it is so and shall be so. Down to the smallest chancre sore, the Tower shall dwarf all others and be as you wish it to be." muttered a clearly sulky Lysander.

"Cool! It will be the BIGGEST tower in all the realm! It will stretch to the gods, announcing that the House of Streeley is open for sweet, sweet lovemaking! Women will flock from all the lands, for the chance for some Imperial Largesse, upon sighting it, in all its massive glory!" Leo crowed.

"Of course, your Excellency..." Lysander and Rebecca bowed, edging for the door. Long experience had taught them to sleep and eat when they could, when the Emperor was off on one of his rants.

"And note, I did NOT say 'Imperial Large-ass' this time. Foorsooth, what thinkest thou, ever happened to that Joe Ammo varlet of a scribe, who was supposed to write down every utterance I said? Every pearl of wisdom I utter? I swear that guy wrote 'Large-ass' on purpose!" Emperor Leo demanded explosively.

"You had him killed, excellency." princess Rebecca replied, clearly relishing the gruesome details. Lysander winced and kept edging for the door.

"Oh? How?" Leo demanded, idely swinging a leg over the solid gold Kylie Minogue statue that formed the armrest of his Throne of Love.

"First, you had him emasculated. THEN you paid for Doktor Malgin to leech his 'mojoness' out and to dress him like Lance from N'Sync...at which point he was tossed to the last dozen remaining sixteen year old virgins in the realm...." Rebecca went down the list with relish.

"Oh yes...it was the other one, the goat licker...Lima or something...HIM I had dressed up like Count Jii in leather hotpants and sent to the YMCA bathhouse covered with Zima..." Leo began.

"Elethian. Count Elethian Jii...Bajoran names are backards...it’s Elethian..." corrected Lysander.

"Geishundteit." corrected Leo, waving a pudgy hand.

"errrr..." began Lysander.

"KISS THE HAND!" screeched Leo, waving it more furiously.

Lysander eyed the be-ringed hand nervously, took it and gingerly kissed the air over the dirty-nailed specimen. Long experience had taught him that Emperor Leo usually neglected washing his hands after using the Imperial Lavetory.

"Let us go hence and inspect...err... you know... look at the site they're gonna erect my tower on. HEY! Erect! Tower! Get it?" demanded Leo.

"Your Excellency?" asked Lysander, noting Rebecca's confused look.

"I dunno... HEY! Make it a law, no one is allowed to talk funny anymore! I'm getting confused.I can do that, right? Make laws and stuff? " Leo demanded excitedly.

"Yes Your Excellency." replied Princess Rebecca.

"Cool! Everyone has to talk all proper like me from now on. No more fooresooth’s and Huzzas and stuff. So every chick will -have- to sleep with me now! Not just the ones getting married! And...uhhh...I want one of those new fangled bidet things, but only if it involves something dirty!" Leo screeched, rubbing his hands together under his robes.(okay, NOT his hands really, but it's only a 'R' rating!) " And mother-daughter nudie dance teams, those gotta happen pretty darn quick or Old Emperor Leo gets upset! And we ALl know what hapens whan I get upset! " Leo continued his latest rant.

"Yes, your Excellencey. SUMMON THE IMPERIAL MOP TO A CLEANUP ON THE THRONE DIAS! SUMMON THE IMPERIAL TAILORS WITH SOME DRY UNDER-ROBES!" Bellowed Duke Lysander.

"No! That was an accident! It was just the one time! I meant the heads rolling in the dust thing! When I get mad? People die? THAT thing! Cutting off heads ring a bell?" Leo protested.

Rebecca's eyes lit up.

"Noooo! Not like THAT!" protested Leo, covering his genitals.

“Oh.” replied Rebecca, going back to her sulk.

“This boyfriend of yours... he’s kind of weird.” Leo confided in a stage whisper to Duke Lysander. “Not that it’s wrong to be... you know...Some of my best friends were... you know... Like Sansky. And Jii and Mitchell. And Sanchez, boy was Sanchez one confused guy! But I’m not like that!” Leo confided with a wink.

“I’m not gay!” Lysander exploded, on top of Rebecca’s outraged “I’m not a boy!”

“Hey hey hey... whatever... it’s all good. It’s not like you’re some android lover like old Jimmy Corgan! If Red there wants to wear a dress, it’ s his own business. I hate bigots, myself. All bigots should be rounded up and locked up in camps with guard dogs and stuff,and shot if they try to escape if you ask me. Along with the Bajorans.” Leo cackled.

“Shall we inspect the building site?” Rebecca urged, through gritted teeth.

“Yeah.. I wanna see where they put the moat...” Leo began.

“What Moat?” Rebecca and Lysander chorused.

“Didn’t I mention? I want a moat now. Around those two little round huts at the base of my Tower. A moat of Godiva Chocloate liquor. Gotta be Chocolate liquor. I heard from this guy that Godiva is the best for getting chicks. My buddy Henry is the world’s expert on chicks, next to Yours Truely.” Leo commented, as he clapped his hands, summoning something.

“Why Liquor?” asked Lysander.

“Hey! Duhhhhhh! Get a chick drunk, and she’s yours! I had this one girl, once... I gave her three Tequizas and she...” began Leo, clapping his hands again with a frown.

At Leo’s second handclap, something concealed in his throne began buzzing and humming and vibrating with power from a hidden series of waterworks and gears. The whole floor began to shudder as the concealed machinery sprang to life.

“What is that noise?” demanded Lysander, eying the throne’s seat with alarm.

“Nothing. There is no noise. You hear nothing. Stoopid old clappers. And Clap too, for that matter. I’m sure I mentioned the moat.” Leo nattered, trying to kick his throne subtly and change the subject at the same time.” Where is my ride? How can I pick up chicks if I don’t have a ride?” Leo grumbled.

“SEND FORTH THE IMPERIAL PALAQUIN!” Bellowed a functionary in the distance after hearing the handclaps, the call being repeated at half mile intervals down the Imperial Main Corridor throughout the Citadel. The Citadel erupted into a beehive of activity, with functionaries bustling in the distance to ensure that their Liege’s every possible whim could be indulged in under a moment’s notice. People flew around in the distance, under trays of prepared foods and drink, on the off chance Leo demanded something. A line of women was forming at the drawbridge, hoping Emperor Leo came out on his balcony to select one or five for the afternoon’s delight.

“Why is that shaft thing sticking out of the seat? and vibrating like that?” asked Lysander, staring at the Throne.

“I MENTIONED THE MOAT!” screamed Leo.

“No, you must have forgotten...” began the Princess, furiously computing the cost (without an abacus!) under lowered red brows.

“EMPEROR LEO DOES NOT FORGET! ANYTHING!” Leo shouted. “Now.. where was I?” he demanded.

“Moat.” prompted Lysander.

“Moat? What moat? Have whoever put a filthy moat near MY sexy Tower killed. And drawn and quartered, and burnt. Burn the bits of the miscreant. And feed the ashes to a dog and then kill the dog. THAT will teach someone to put a filthy moat near my Tower.” Leo ordered, as Raven Darkstar and Laughing Horse Log staggered into the Throne room, under the weight of an enormous rickshaw. The huge indians were clad only in brief loincloths and their might thews gleamed in the torchlight.

“I had the boys oiled, what do you think? Got to keep the Hoopdie in condition, huh?” Leo asked his advisors.

“Hard to grab one.” replied Princess Rebecca, oblivious to the irony.

“Don’t squeeze the Charmin. Why is you you gay guys always gotta be touching everything? Touch-touch-touch-ass-ass-ass. Hands off the Indians.” warned Leo.

“errr... this moat?” pressed Duke Lysander.

“What moat? Did you forget to tell me about a moat? Have yourself beaten. I FORBID any moats! Some chick could drown in it, trying to get to my bed!” Leo screeched, climbing into the rickshaw.

His advisors got into the seat facing His Mightiness.

“Hey! these rearview mirrors are smegging broken!” Lysander observed, as the massive Indians silently began trotting down the marbeled halls, passing the portraits of Leo on the wall. Leo in a General’s uniform, atop a massive rearing horse, Leo is a suit of armor as he smote a foe, Leo being crowned before cheering hordes, Leo delivering a speech to his adoring subjects,Leo in a pink dress draped in chestnut sized diamonds and lounging atop a piano.

“What?” asked Leo, staring at the mirrors in rapt attention.

“Yes, their adjustment seems slightly skewed. Instead of the porters being able to see behind themselves, all WE can see in them are the crotches of the porters. Jiggling.” sniffed Rebecca.

“Really? You don’t say. Someone make a note of that, I’ll look into it myself. I have to everything around here...” muttered Leo, eyes still locked on the rearview mirrors.

“Why are you asleep?” demanded Duke Lysander crossly.

“I’m not...” replied Emperor Leo, eyes still on the solid silver mirrors.

“W.w.w.w..www..Why are you BOTH asleep?” demanded Princess Rebecca crossly.

“Hey! You can’t talk to me like that! I’m The Emperor Leo!” Leo protested.

“Yeah! He’s the Emperor Leo!” Lysander protested.

“What that Lysol guy said!” Screeched Leo. “I do what I want!”

***** SPLAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HH! *****

The bucket of icy cold water hurtled over the reeking pigsty walls, drenching the two forms huddled under the wisps of filthy straw and clots of muck and filth.

The water, while freezingly cold, did little to alleviate the filthy conditions of the men. Basically, the ingrained dirt on the pair and their feotid rags, made the water run off in rivulets.

“P.p.p...p.ppp.pp....” stuttered the dirty, slender red head, barefoot in her linen shift.

“What the SMEG?” roared the cleaner of the two men, while the second grunted and shifted back to steal the warm spot in the muck.

“P..p.p..p.p.p.p.p.p Pig-boy!” finally finished the tiny redheaded form, dropping her bucket. “M..m.m.m.m.m.m....Momma s.s.s.s.s.s...ssssss...s..says ....”

“Your Momma says ‘feed the pigs, whatever slop they don’t eat is yours, and don’t let the hermit in the pigsty!’ You say the same thing every smegging day!” finished Lysander with a weary groan using a handy sty fence to pull himself upright.

Leo just grunted and buried himself further into the muck, chasing his Imperial dreams.

“M..m...m...m.m.m.m.m.m...m..mmmmm.m..Momma says..” Rebecca began again, as Lysander shooed several chickens off his cloak and began to wrap the threadbare, raggedy thing around himself.

“Bless everyone in this house. Thank your Momma for letting me sleep in the barn, I smegging suppose it’s the best a Hermit can expect. You look nice in that dress.” Friar Lysander made a sign of benediction over the tiny girl, as he strode into the yard, his black robes and cloak flapping about his sandal clad feet.

Leo’s eyes popped wide open.

“If Lysterine Van Pulls Up Chicken-Ninny is the hermit... then... Old Uncle Leo.... is.. the...Pig Boy! I’m a PIG BOY?” he screeched in indignation.

Rebecca leaned on the ramshackle barn doorpost and watched her long haired mother laughing as she chatted with Friar Lysander. Widow Holly was young and attractive, and undenibly female, unlike her shy and skinny daughter. Rebecca half-suspected Friar Lysander hung around their little farm, just to oogle his way into Widow Holly’s good graces, and steal eggs from Rebecca’s Chicken Mr Clucky.

“PIG BOY???” demanded Leo. “Who are the goobers doing casting around here? Even that Williams guy showed the Old Leo-meister MORE respect than I seen lately! This place is going to the dogs!”

Leo got a dangerous glint in his eye.

“STRIKE! I’m on strike! I’ll show you PIG BOY! I am NOT moving from this spot until someone makes me Emperor or something! If that Dink NPC written by some cretin on another sim gets to be a Duchess... I get to be a damn EMPEROR!”

He plopped his rump into the muck of the pigsty.

Leo looked around the pigsty.

“Where is that Indian galoot?” he mused.

TBC

LEO WITHOUT RAVEN? TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR THE ...

DEATH OF LEO STREELEY! (Written by Joe and Liam from ‘beyond the grave’)

"Assignments"

Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder
Lieutenant (jg) Ella Grey
Lieutenant (jg) Michael McDowell

*backpost*

Suder sat quietly in his office going over the duty roster for Engineering one last time. Collecting his final thoughts together, he straightened his uniform and made his way out to the heart of the ship. Main Engineering.

The doors to his office hissed shut behind him and he strolled over to the main console where the Engineers had already gathered. He sat the data padd down on the console and looked around at the gang, first at the Shift Officers Grey, McDowell and Hwii, then at the secondary shift officers, Menlaar and Jackson.

"First on the list, I'd like Beta team to run diagnostics on the Drive and Navigation systems. I'm not convinced they're up to high specs. I've got a copy of how she wan..." he paused and cleared his throat. "A copy of the way it used to be." He glanced around the Engineers and then back down at the data padd. "Gamma and Delta team will be monitoring the warp flow regulators and I'd like a couple of teams to just double check the warp field coils. Just want to make sure that everything is running smoothly. There are jobs up for the taking, inform your teams that they can find them on the job board as usual. General jobs, there's a couple of complaints about replicators and the lighting in several quarters. McDowell, I'd like you to check the transporters. It's time they were checked and any maintenance that needs doing, well you know the routine." he said with a half smile.

Ella followed his words without looking up from her computer PADD. So far the new chief seemed competent enough. But Engineering had already gone through two chiefs already and so there was a private pool betting on how long this one would last. She was to meet with him after the department meeting since, thus far, they had managed to keep missing each other.

Michael nodded to Ethan when he heard about his assignment for today."I'll get right on it." Moments later a frown appeared on his face when mulling over something what Ethan had just said. "First the shields, then the replicators, now the lighting,...damned Quick virus." Michael muttered. Then, in a flash, he thought about a 20th century film he came across once. It made him grin. ~Oh no, it's a ghost....someone call Ghostbusters.~

Ella looked up to see that Michael was grinning for some reason. Usually the Quick virus made her want to pull her hair out. She shrugged, to each his own.

Pulled back to the here and now by Ella's reaction Michael again mulled over what Ethan had said. He couldn't quite understand why the warp field coils had to be checked out again. That had already been done that last week,...and he should know since he was there himself at the time. Had he overlooked something? "Uhm, sir, one question. Why work on the warp field coils again? We completed doing the necessary adjustments and maintenance last week."

Ethan looked up from his data padd and glanced at Michael. "I want them double check, that's all, shouldn't take too long." Ethan explained. "I know a lot of work went into them, obviously, all the more reason to check them now. See if we maybe overworked them." he said with a very slight smile.

Michael didn't return Ethan's smile. He wasn't comfortable with his decision of checking the coils again. Did he doubt Michael's work and that of the other people that were part of his team? "I understand, sir. Just wondering."

"All right then, lets get going people." Ethan said. He looked carefully at everyone as they began going about their duties. Ethan strolled up to who he knew was the Assistant Chief Engineer. Extending a hand, not sure how to introduce himself, he just came out with it. "Hey," he said softly. "Ethan Suder," he said pointing at himself, "you must be Ella Grey?"

Ella shook his hand as she nodded, then held up one finger. She reached into her pocket and handed him the pre-prepared computer PADD. *ELLA GREY. PLEASURE TO MEET YOU, SIR*

Ethan gazed at her for a while. He had heard about the Assistant Chief and her ritualistic habit of not talking. He just half smiled at her for a few seconds.

She couldn't quite keep the flicker of surprise out of her eyes as she regarded his. Betazoid, she thought with some alarm. That could prove to be problematic. She smiled, however. *LOOKING FORWARD TO WORKING WITH YOU, CHIEF*

Michael hid a smile as he watched how Ethan made acquaintance with his Assistant Chief. It was not everyday you met someone like Ella. It was kind of funny to see how Ethan reacted to the situation. But as quick as it came Michael's smile disappeared. There was work to be done. Michael turned and began walking away, already thinking who of the Gamma shift Engineers he had to contact for delegating part of the Maintenance job on the Transporters.

He gave a slight nod and then looked around at everyone getting to work. "You, wanna have a chat in my office?" he said not really expecting a verbal response.

She nodded.

Ethan strolled into his office and walked behind his desk and took a seat. He gestured to one of the seats on the other side of his desk with the hope that Ella would sit down. "I understand you've been the Assistant Chief for a short while now. First I want to apologize. I know it might seem a bit frustratingly annoying. You know, your the Assistant Chief and then I show up and take the big seat when it maybe rightfully yours. Um, do you think it should be your seat?" he asked kindly in a way to investigate her character and personality.

Ella took a seat. *NOT AT ALL, SIR. I'M STILL GREEN FROM THE ACADEMY TO SOME. PROBABLY SHOULDN'T EVEN BE ASSISTANT CHIEF* She gave a wry smile. *NOT THAT I'M GIVING UP THE POSITION MIND YOU*

Ethan almost chuckled. "Do you see yourself here, maybe soon, maybe a few years down the road, maybe tomorrow? I mean, Being an Engineer is great, but if you wanting to work your way to the top, I'd just like to know where my competition is." Ethan said with another smile.

Ella seemed to contemplate. Finally she typed *I'M NOT SURE. I THOUGHT ITS WHAT I WANTED BUT...WELL, YOU KNOW WOMEN.*

Ethan's smile faded and he glanced around his office. "Not that well." he admitted. What he meant by that he left to Ella's imagination. "I'd like to hold a meeting every week so we can go over any concerns you may have or concerns raised by the team here in Engineering. Also to go over daily reports etc, I'm sure you know the routine."

*AGREED*

"Since I've not been back long, I only know some of the people here. The one's I don't know I'll be keeping a close eye on and having a meeting with that person sometime in the month to discuss their duties and how I think they can improve their performance. Call it an appraisal." Ethan said.

She raised an eyebrow but wrote nothing.

"And before I forget, I'd like to limit the number of people who are allowed to work on the EPS Power systems. I'm authorizing yourself, Lieutenant McDowell and obviously myself to work on them. But before you or McDowell do any kind of work, I'd like to be notified." he explained.

Ella sighed internally. It was so much easier to just pick up your tools and go but she nodded to the Chief. *UNDERSTOOD SIR*

"I know lot of Engineers just want to get on with their work. Show up, go do something, then finish. The EPS power grid and joining systems are the only things I want left alone. There are good reasons, if you want, I'll give you a list." Ethan said sensing some discomfort. "Now, before you go," Ethan said raising an eyebrow of his own, "is there anything you want or need to tell me about anything before we move on forward?" he asked.

She looked him square in the eye. *NOTHING I CAN THINK OF, SIR*

"All right then." Ethan said standing. "I look forward to working with you. Don't worry about coming to about the smallest thing regarding, well....anything." he said with a soft look.

She knew she didn't need to, knew that he probably would be able to see past it, but Ella couldn't help put on her innocent girl face as she smiled and replied with a friendly *THANK YOU, SIR* on her computer PADD. Ella waved farewell and then left, returning to her station, wondering whether or not the new chief was going to be a major threat

Ethan sat back down in his chair and began to nibble on his knuckle. He thought for a short while. His first encounter with the Assistant Chief was interesting. He made a few mental notes about her and then thought he'd check up on a few things. He needed to correct a couple of things, starting with Lieutenant McDowell.

"Reclamation"

by

Kylar Curran,
Moneylender, Galaxia

In a darkened corner of the smoke-filled main salon of the tavern, a man watched with keen eyes, surveying the room. The sun was low in the lavender sky, and business had begun to pick up for the evening.

Passers through the town stopped by the inn for song, food, and beds to slumber on, and tonight was a special evening. It was FESTIVAL!

The bar wenches were busily serving out glops of mutton and ale, warm and spilt over the cup edges to flow on to the floor, which itself was cracked with dirt, moss, and strands of straw carried in by the partying folk.

The sunset cast broken rays of light through the stainglassed window behind the silhouetted frame of a figure. He nestled further into a corner, careful to avoid detection by the peasant-folk.

The live entertainment beat away at their drums, strumming along a tune somewhat reminiscent of Celtic fashion. It stirred up the crowd of already drunken celebrants, roaring and clanging their goblets of mulled wine in a machismo chant. Hands grabbed at wenches as they passed, a fight broke out over who saw her first, but they were quickly tossed out the swinging doors on their ear.

All the while the one in the corner kept his eyes focussed on a single person at the long oaken bar that served as a trough for the spilled waste of winery and ale. The group the man was a part of broke out in song as the band struck up a piece that was oddly blood-rushing. It banged out chords of bravery and heroics in between dedications to sacrifice.

A bar wench saw him sitting quietly on his own. She stepped around the steadily increasing amount of bodies falling on the floor in drunken stupors, lifting her hemmed skirt to avoind the occasional slew of vomit that left one of their mouths.

"Is there something I can get for you, sir?" She smiled crookedly, a tooth missing and blackened. She would be pretty if she only took care of herself. Her clothes were rags, torn in places only a male in passing would grab. It was patched in tatters, mismatched.

He cast his cold, blue eyes at her, a sheet of ice and fury. Taken aback, she raised her eyebrows, slapped a groping hand, and backed off.

"Fine. Suit yourself!" And off she went, berating and slapping males along the way. She even cracked a mug over one guy's head for getting a but TOO friendly! "... the one you want is in the Guard's Tower! Now, hands OFF, oaf!"

He switched back to his target. He raised a cup of tea he had ordered long ago before the sullied wench came on shift, and drank deeply of it, finishing it off.

The imbecile had the look of merry about him, but that wouldn't last. His friends had gone off to dance with some apparently interested females. All the peasants here were grubby, and the odor of this place made him sick. Hygiene obviously wasn't a priority here.

While his friends had gone for a round of rejection, his target belched and slammed his ale mug down, calling for another, at the same time letting the bartender know he'd be back as he had some 'business' to attend to. Of course, the barkeep couldn't have cared less. Paying customers got more attention.

Stumbling off, the mark broke through the swinging doors that led outside, following stealthily by the shadow with the cold-blue eyes.

He followed the reveller around the bend of the inn, and to the outhouse ring in back. The man in black stopped abruptly and raised a dark cuff to his face, coughing lightly. He needed to get out of this business, or hire someone else to deal with this dissentary work. He was bound to catch a disease out here.

Instead, he melted to the dark and unlit wall of the inn, far away from the troughs. A couple near him were busy making their own moans of pleasure, but they were the only ones visible to what was to occur. Figuring they were too into their own moaning to care or bear witness, he left them be.

Thirty seconds later, his target stumbled out of the ring, slipping in the mud from the day's earlier rains.

From out of the darkness, the eyes blinked.

The target stopped, peering into the darkness, seeing something that caught his eye. A tinkle of coins were heard, a flash of light in the air, and one solid gold coin fell before him of which he stopped and stared, unsure what to make of it. Maybe it was the alcohol that slowed him down.

"Aren't you going to take it?" Low, raspy, like a whisper on the wind.

"Who is that?" The man started, fidgeting at the voice from nowhere. He peered into the darkness from whence the voice came, his scraggly hair clinging to the dirty face it belonged to. He sank down to his knees, groping for the coin while still searching the darkness. No more explanation was forthcoming.

He grasped the coin, bit down on it. Solid gold! This would get him in good standing with all those wenches who'd rejected him. He'd show them now! Grinning, he never even saw the man come at him, until he was kneeling beside him.

The moans of the couple grew louder in the distance.

"Nice to see you again, Mula. I've been looking for you for a long time now. I figured you'd jump at the opportunity for a gold piece." Mula jumped back with a start upon seeing the eyes shadowed under the hood.

"No! I killed you! I am free of my debt!" He tried desperately to jump to his feet, but kept slipping in the mud. He dropped the coin, trying to scramble away from his stalker.

"If you had killed me then you would've been free of your debt, Mula, but you did not. Now the interest on your debt has increased an additional 150% and is demanded in full immediately." He squatted in place still as he arrived, arm crossed over one leg, slightly leaning forward. "Do you have what is owed to me, Mula?"

"I.. I... I'll get it for you, Curran! Just give me some more time!" His eyes were wild with fear. This was the Galaxia's biggest Moneylender! No small bookie he could run from....

"No more time for you, Mula. You've had 4 months now to pay up, and now I'm done waiting. I want it now, or face the consequences. I have already laid claim to your home and belongings in collateral. You have no home to take your whores to tonight. If you give me what is mine now, I will think about returning them to you."

"I told you, I don't have it!" He anxiously tried to find a way out. He felt warm liquid flow through the front of his breeches. Guess the ale and wine flowed through you faster when you were scared.

"Then I am forced to foreclose on your debt, Mula." From within his robe a rolled parchment appeared. He tossed it at Mula, where it rolled into the ground before him.

"What... what.. is this?" A simple roll of paper, now caked with flecks of mud, tied together with a red string.

"Read it, and know that it is done. If you pay now, I will take it back and act as if it never occurred."

"I can't pay..." His fingers wrapped around the parchament, trembling, he slowly unravelled it.

"Once it is opened, the writ becomes valid, Mula. There is no escaping its conclusions. You either pay, or you follow through with the demands of the writ to exact payment due." Underneath the hood, Curran was grinning. He would get what was owed him no matter what.

Mula's hands shook as he unravelled the parchment. He glanced through it, skimming the legalities to see what he would have to cough up. His eyes grew wide as he took it in, his whole body rattled. He shook his head violently back and forth.

"No!! You can't have them. I won't let you! You can't do this!" He threw the writ back at Curran. The moans grew louder as the couple in back were about to hit their crescendo.

"You are bound by the contract you agreed to when you entered into this juncture, Mula. The writ is balanced against value if you are unable to pay. You have given consent when you opened the writ." Curran snapped his wrist slightly, Mula barely noticing it, but he did feel the slight pinprick of something hitting his neck, then it all went dark.

Several hours later, Curran was at the market, jangling his newly refilled money pouch. Behind him was a series of cooler packs, en route to private buyers of needed organs.

“The Mercenaries Roam Into Town”

By Jamison ‘James’ Lionel Corgan
Tessie Armstrong (T'lan)
Edward Grayrock (E'xch)
Walter Marsh
Sheridan ‘Shelly’ O’Rourke

Location: Galaxia, The Swan and Sword Pub

The Swan and Sword. A dusty old pub like any other.

Cliché? Wait until you see the place.

The dwelling, when light wasn’t shone other than the fat burning lamps that lay the filthy watering hole like brimstone straight from hell, was as dark as a reeking cave. That was all the better, considering what the Swan and Sword looked like when light shone where the sun wasn’t supposed to shine. Its floorboards creaked, stank, rotted, and buckled under the weight of a bunch of shiftless, lazy peasants whom found drink to be the only solace in their miserable lives. The wall planking was old and dusty, worn away by age and thousands of riotous nights of drinking and boasting. The roof was a collection of straw thatch, graying and aged much like the walls; some say it was the first and only thatch roof in its hundred-year existence. It barely kept the weather in check, and every once in awhile, a drunken peasant dealt with the tedious smack of dirtied droplets of water ricocheting off poor wretch’s skull. Decorations consisted of wooden tables and chairs, simplistic, with its polish worn off years ago by the assault of overweight bodies and thumping pewter ale mugs. In the back, besides storehouses of potatoes, turnips, cabbage, and wheat, was the boarding house, a simple, small room with bunks and questionably suitable linins.

At a not so isolated corner of the dirtiest alehouse in Galaxia, the bar was set up. A wooden bench with wooden stools, also old and dusty, stood in front of a series of shelves, housing mugs and all sorts of mysterious and dangerous spirits (one never asked for anything out of those bottles, distilled with copper and poorly stored as they were, so it was more prudent to ask for ale). An old lady, ballooned like ripe fruit from years of child rearing, spat into an empty glass through her gnarled teeth, and wiped it out with a soiled rag.

This was to be the new home of the “Brotherhood of Red”.

“So, what do you guys think?” Jamison Corgan, the de facto leader of the Brotherhood of Red announced, waving his arms across the decrepit structure like a proud lord surveying his land.

The rest of the Brotherhood looked at the Swan and Sword with skepticism. “Sir… it’s disgusting.” Sheridan O’Rourke sighed, her arms folded across her tunic, her hands close to her twin daggers. The former thief made mercenary had more than a flophouse in mind.

“Terrible.” Walter Marsh agreed. He pondered the sword at his hip and the crossbow on his back. The former militiaman made mercenary contemplated using the items on their proud leader.

“Unworthy of a proud man of my status.” Said the confident and boisterous Edward Grayrock. The young man, claimed to be a prince, thought he knew it all. And he knew for sure this was not worthy of the Brotherhood of Red, and he was willing to bring out his warhammer to prove it.

Seeing the skepticism in his party of vagabonds, James thought feverishly to calm his agitated mates. “Tes?” He asked the cold, yet strinkingly beautiful woman with the short haircut and the ash bow on her back, “What do you make of this place?”

He could always depend on Tessie Armstrong. If not for a great opinion, but to use logic and reasonable thinking to always justify his decisions. “Sir, this dwelling and pub will have to do. However, our probability of catching a disease is twenty four point nine six percent.”

James looked at his cohort, “You sure about that?”

“I come from a long line of scholars and warriors. I am sure of it.”

“Which explains why you have yet to create gunpowder? You know, my house was the first to use it.”

Tessie replied, “We choose not to make gunpowder. It would be illogical to use such a destructive force.”

“Well, House Grayrock still invented it, and it's worthy of acclaim!” Edward added in.

“It would figure, that only a people like you would invent a destructive force like gunpowder.” Tessie silenced the bold princeling, whom slinked and shed his brave image.

“AHEM!” James coughed, catching the Brotherhood of Red’s attention, “Thank you. Look, I know when we first set out that we thought we would be stinking rich by the end of the year, and I know that things haven’t been too good, with the Marquis rebellion quashed… the Duke of Picard winning against the forces of Shinzon the Terrible to the east, and all that sh*t, but this is the best we can afford! Until we get ourselves a decent job without being f**ked over by every potential employee that comes along, we’ll have to suck it up and live like common sewer rats. Ok?”

The rest of the party begrudgingly agreed. Almost.

Sir Marsh spoke, “But sir, we have been chasing opportunity for the past three years. Every time we get a mercenary job, we either end up on the losing side, or end up being double crossed without a sixpence to show for it. When are we actually going to get some real income?”

“Methinks I’m curious about that meself.” Shelly pointed at James.

James waved his hands neutrally, a calming smile (that hid his fright) across his face. “Sorry guys, but it’s the best we can do. I’ll go check on some leads tomorrow, ok? I promise, I’ll find out all about the political situation here and pick the right side for a change.”

“Sure… like the time you decided to side with the mercenaries joining the Dominion Empire’s forces?” Tessie said.

Edward added, “Or the time we sided with the clockwork men of Delta?”

Shelly threw in, “Or how about the time you were absolutely sure it was one hundred percent ok to join the Wildmen of Quo’nos, until they found out we were citizens of Galaxia?”

Marsh concluded, “Only to join them anyways, when they made peace with Galaxia to fight the Dominion Empire. And you know what you did then?”

Everyone said, “We went back into the arms of the Dominion, only to be double-crossed.”

It was undeniable. The Brotherhood of Red had a run in of bad luck as of late. By as of late, that meant since their formation during the wars between the Dominion Empire and the rest of the forces of light. Since then, the Brotherhood of Red has been known for being on the wrong side of every conflict they came across. Sometimes they were paid. Sometimes they weren’t. Sometimes it meant taking treasure from the losers before it was taken by the victors, and running away from the territories before the victors caught wind. Sometimes it meant a stay in a dungeon and a daring escape.

The life of a wandering mercenary was an exciting one. And sometimes a dangerous one. In the case of the Brotherhood of Red, there was no time to take stock in the excitement, because there was more than enough danger and hardship to drown it all out. The past three years were disappointing. Men and women not meant to be warriors were nonetheless thrust by destiny into each other’s company, and sent out into the cruel world to eke out a miserable living. Many were gone, including the monk Brinit Taro, lost tragically in the haunted woods of Del’fi. And now there was five, back in their original township. They went from being a bunch of broke, desperate peasants to being broke, desperate peasants.

“Guys. I…” James stuttered, “Lets just get a round of ales and I’ll give you an important announcement.”

A round of grunts and ‘harumphs’ went through the group. It wasn’t their fault they were disillusioned, it was the results of three years of soulcrushing agony!

James led his pack of downtrodden mercenaries into the bar. When light hit the wretched souls inside, they recoiled in horror as sunlight hit bloodshot eyes, like drunken ghouls. A rather large fellow, dark skinned and with muscles considered unnatural on a human, held James Corgan by the shoulder, and pointed to the sign.

=/\=Checke weapoons at thee doore.=/\=

“Oh… who am I to argue with the rules.” James snarled sarcastically, “Here are my ‘we’a’poons’ so you can ‘check-e’ them at ‘thee doore’… ya big ox.”

The dark haired ‘oxen’ scowled, down, and collected James weapons. Underneath a dark, forest green cloak, crimson tunic, and deerskin breeches was a well used broadsword, and two exotic looking weapons. They were wooden and metal fused together, a metal tube like ‘barrel’ and a wooden handle, or ‘pistol grip’ as the alchemists and weapon smiths remarked. Through some ingenious thinking, the weapons were stuffed with ‘gunpowder’ and a lead bullet, where then a ‘trigger’ was pulled. The trigger would strike a piece of flint, and ignite the ‘gunpowder’, hurling the lead ‘bullet’ with the velocity three times that of an arrow from a composite longbow. He was assured that these weapons would be the next big thing in warfare. Granted, they took minutes at a time to reload, and it was a clumsy effort to reload the pistols. The shots were not nearly as accurate as a bow or even a crossbow. In fact, when it rained, the gunpowder would be ruined and it would never ignite. But James was attracted to these strange, beautiful weapons (and they could go through a Paladin’s armor like nothing else!).

He handed over the two ‘muskets’ to the bar bouncer, with a wary eye. “Don’t drop them, they’re expensive.” James gave the warning. The big ox collected the Edward's hammer, Tessie's bow and sword, O’Rourke’s daggers, and Marsh’s sword and crossbow.

“Thank you.” James didn’t like the idea of the ‘ox’ holding two very expensive weapons. He yelled to the sea hag who passed herself off as a tavern wench, “You there! Four Ales. One Picard wine.”

The tavern wench nodded, going back to ‘cleaning’ her mug.

The Brotherhood of Red waited for a full ten minutes before the tavern wench decided it was time to bring their drinks. By then, Edward was shaking for a tankard of ale, and Tessie waited anxiously for her wine. When the drinks came, it was like looking into a glass full of foul bilge water (save for the elven wine, sparkling as ever).

“Ummm… thanks!” James drank his, and didn’t gag the least bit. Because of their constant income crisis, the Brotherhood had to make due with worse ale than this.

The rest of the group drank their first quaff, making sour, disgusted faces, but reconciled by the fact that this time, they had half decent hooch.

“Ok… group meeting is now in session!” James Lionel Corgan unfurled the mercenary banner, a tankard of ale being held by a crimson hand, enclosed in a red circle, and placed it on the table.

“Here here!” The others cheered somberly.

“Ummm… yeah.” James sensed the lack of enthusiasm. Though the weeks have been tough, he thought the group had more hope for the future. He sat down calmly, and started the meeting. “Ok, the one hundred and sixty eighth meeting of the Brotherhood of Red is now in session. Of our original squad of twenty, only five of us remain, due to some deaths, but mostly desertion. I thank you all for staying with me, and hope that the years to come will be prosperous.”

“Yeah, right.” Marsh grumbled, taking a bitter drink of his beer.

James pretended to ignore Marsh’s comment, “Tonight… will be our last meeting.”

Mugs dropped. Faces were etched in surprise. Finally, James Corgan had the attention of his bedraggled, battered ‘legion’. “That’s right. I’m calling it quits. You know why I said we would be prosperous for years to come? That’s because I meant it. We’re not going to become prosperous by becoming mercenaries! Find the legendary dragon’s nest of gold? HAH! Defeat the forces of good and ride the wave of Dominion dominance? HAH! Become rich out of our f**king skulls and get blitzed on the best ale in the seven kingdoms? HAH!!!!!!! What a f**king crock of sh*t!”

“Sir?” Shelly O’Rourke shakingly ventured.

“Shelly, it’s true. We’ve had nothing but hardship. I brought you all home so that we can pick up where we left off three years ago. I’ll go back being a bard, and playing at this scummy bar until I can get a better job elsewhere. T’lan, you can go back to being a bowyer. Exch, you can become a jewelsmith’s apprentice again. And Marsh… dear Marsh, I’m sure Count Brhode’s Militia will want you back again. And as for O’Rourke… what did you do for a living before we picked you up on Intrepidville?”

“I was a scrollkeeper for a barrister, and I didn’t like it that much!” O’Rourke snapped.

“Well, I don’t know… be something! Anything but a mercenary! Let’s face it. We learned through the past three years that this job is the worse! Lets just cut our losses and go back to our old lives. Ok?” James reasoned sorrowfully, “Ok? Please? I don’t want to lead you guys to destitution anymore.”

The group looked around, seeing that James Corgan was serious. It hadn’t occurred to them that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, but now that James was letting them go…

They couldn’t be any happier.

“Here’s to a new life!” Shelly O’Rourke raised her glass.

“Here here!” Edward cheered, raising his.

“I concur.” Tessie raised her wine.

“YES!” Marsh raised his tankard

As if waiting on cue, James raised his. “Here here.”

A clink of all the glasses, and a long quaff of ale (and wine), and the rest was settled. The Brotherhood of Red was no more. And everyone couldn’t be happier.

Everyone, except James Corgan. He looked at the banner, now a table cloth with rings of ale on its dirty fabric, with longing.

Saladin
Courtier to the Court of Duke

People knew him from his role around the town of galaxia. Protector of the throne, he kept the duke free from the many plots to kill him and usurp the throne, aside from the ones he thought might succeede, which were none.

He shruged on his thick robe and examined the surroundings.

Now he had a regular appointment with the webwitch, what he gave her, was what she needed, if it was food she got food, if it was physical comfort he gave her that too.

Checking his sword he carried strapped to his hip he looked around for her location.

"The Mercenary and the Web Witch"

By

Jamison 'James' Lionel Corgan, Hard Luck Mercenary
And
The Mysterious Web Witch

Location: The Forest of the Web Witch

Nighttime in the forest was not an ideal place to travel. There were too many dangers inherent in its shadowy, dark mass of tangled brush, gnarled branches, and thickened oak trunks. Things, deadly unknown things, stalked the forest. Animals controlled its groves. Dead leaves and felled twigs alerted the creatures of the night of any intruders, and brush concealed their ambush. The only light; a moon stifled by the oak tree's expanding reach.

Perfect time for a feared mercenary (in his own mind) to go out for a drunken stroll. Just himself, his tools of the trade (two expensive and advanced black powder muskets and a simple sword), and an uncorked glass bottle of clear liquid.

"Ohhh... hidehidehidehide hi de hi de hay!" James Corgan, the once proud if unlucky mercenary leader, was now a foolish, drunken wretch out in the middle of a bandit and spirit infested forest, announcing his presence with inebriated dance steps and wailing of a once tuned voice gone rusty with misuse.

"I was once a proud lad... As proud as I could be... I made a living as a wandering... mer-cen-nar-ry!

But the opportunities soured... And I ran out of luck... So here I am to tell the world, that I don't give a F**K! Ohhh... hidehidehidehide hi de hi de hay!"

Too drunk to keep a steady footing, James Corgan's toe stubbed on a large oak root. He swore at his misfortune, his toe smarting greatly. But what smarted even worse was when he realized he needed two feet to stay on the ground.

The mercenary captain completed his degradation with a faceplant into a puddle of muddy rainwater.

Spitting out mud and water, James sputtered, "Hey... that wasn't how it was... f**k it."

He dragged his alcohol soaked mass to the nearest oak. Resting on its broad trunk, James pulled out one of his pricy technological killing devices. In the dull, sparse moonlight, the musket's polished wood, brass inserts, and metal barrel gleamed a dangerous beauty. So pretty, yet one unfortunate enough to feel her kiss ended up with a messy death or a lost limb from amputation.

Notoriously inaccurate too, unless one was up close.

"Hmmm..." James pondered, "Is point blank range close enough?"

After all those weeks of being in town, and watching for opportunity while his former Brotherhood went on with their live left three years past, James was quite fed up with yet the next batch of bad luck to be served this side of Satan's kitchen. Tessie apprenticed to a bowyer. Edward went to a jewelsmith. Marsh rejoined Count Brhode's militia. And Shelly O'Rourke worked for a local Barrister. Everyone came back to their lives in good order.

All except James Corgan. He thought his fortune would be found as a Minstrel, but his business was driven away by a knave by the name of Curtis Geluf. He tried being a street tough, but couldn't find the intestinal fortitude to mug the defenseless for silver pennies. Being a bawd was no better either. He was too kindhearted and joking to be intimidating, and sometimes too pretty to send fear into others. His muskets coasted him where his good looks could not. One simple pull of the trigger, and the unlucky deadbeat whom crossed him ran for their lives. Unfortunately, that was before they could pay up, and since muskets took a long time to reload, it resulted in his dismissal.

Manual labor filled the employment gap. Working long, backbreaking hours at the docks with little to show for it but a meal and a room at the Swan and Sword. And still, he was broke.

All that was left was the life of a mercenary, but where was the fun of that without his Brotherhood of Red? ~"Face it, old boy. There's nothing left."~ James leveled the pistol to his head, ~"Might as well end it here."~

He thought somberly, "Sure, one clean bullet through the skull. Messy, blow my brains out real good. But I hear that if you shoot a person just right, they survive and become a vegetable, they do."~

He drew out his other pistol. Now two guns were pointed at his head, ~"There. Problem solved. Now stop bitching and start shooting."~

James thought of another problem. "But i'm too drunk to shoot."

~"OH FOR F**K SAKES! You wanna live through the hangover you're going to get with that rotten moonshine? Just pull the f**king trigger!"~

James shrugged. It was reason enough for him. "Ok... if you insist..."

The Webwitch didn't need her spiders to know she had a visitor in her woods. He was singing loud enough to be heard all the way to her hut. She moved quickly through the brush, her gown making soft whispers as she moved to see a rather drunken man trying to use one of those bangsticks on himself.

She looked to the moon as if to say 'why me', before whistling softly to her spiders.

One dropped from the trees and landed on his head, frantically trying to get a grip on his hair as she stepped out before him.

He felt a tickle on his scalp, then his forehead. The tickling was running down his face. Straining his eyes upwards, he saw eight eyes staring back.

"Oh... hey spidey spidey spidey..." Drawled the drunken man, unafraid of the creepy mass obscuring his vision.

He waited for the spider to crawl off his face and onto his chest. As the spider moved out of the way, he saw a womanly figure in the darkness.

"Oi... you there. Woman... join me for a drink?" Corgan offered the jug of potent spirits to the web witch, dropping one of his pistols in the attempt.

The Webwitch actually glanced around to see if he was addressing someone else. No one had ever spoken to her like this. Reverence tinged with fear or awe, yes. A rather boisterous to her invitation for a drink, no. But he had been kind to one of her little ones, so that counted for something at least.

She stepped forward and carefully took the offered jug. A sniff at the mouth told her this wasn't water, so she sipped carefully around her veils and her dark liquid eyes began to water.

The drunken one began to snicker.

"Holy sh*t. You're one tough b*tch..." James laughed, "I took a few sips of that whollup, laid me out notime flat. So... what's your name?"

The Webwitch smiled beneath her veils. She'd never been called that either, and she was amused by it. "I have been called many things. I answer to them all in one way or another.", she said in her throaty tones.

The mercenary dropped his other pistol, too drunk to keep it in his quivering hands. "You know... a pretty lady like you shouldn't be walll.. walking at a time like this... I mean place... you get the idea. Lady alone in the woods. Aren't you afraid bandits are going to have your way wit' ya?"

"They wouldn't dare.", she said as she took another sip of the potent drink, this time it going down smoother, "These woods are in my charge and none would cross the Webwitch."

Unsteadily, James gripped the trunk of the tree and propped himself up. "Webwitch... where have I 'eard that?" He scratched his noodle for answers, and remembered through a drunken haze, "OH! You're that... urban legend. Youze... take kids and feed them to giant spiders or something. Hey... they wouldn't happen to be hungry now, would they? I'd about to die... might as well be spider chow... heh heh..."

Like a baby, the mercenary managed to stand on his own. He started to warble, "There once was a lady from Venus. SURPRISE! She had a big... wait a second! You're a lady! An attractive one at that. Though correct me if i'm wrong... because I heard the spider witch was supposed to be a gnarled old woman and not a lovely woman abouts me age. Could be the alcohol..." He twiddled his fingers like a magic incantation, "...Or a magical lust spell! Ohhhhhhhh......"

Whether it was the alcohol or his behaviour, the Webwitch chuckled aloud. A rich and full feminine laugh. "Do not believe all the tales you hear told.", she said as she caught her breath, "And Lust conjures are not all they're cracked up to be."

"Really... damn. That's two sixpense well spent. Tried to get me a piece of widow Von Ernst's girl... didn't work. Fridged she was. But where oh where was I? Oh yeah... I was going to say I shouldn't use bawdy limericks in front of pretty gals. Then there was something else... oh yeah! I was going to put a lead bullet in my head. Excuse me. I'm going into the bushes for a final big bang. You may want cover your eyes... or bring an absorbant cloth..."

He swiped the jug of shine away from the spider witch, and took a final, long quaff. Burping with satisfaction and resigned to his grim fate, James sang to his demise, one shaky foot in front of the other, away from the spider witch's watch. "There once was a man from Nantucket... he loved to f**k in a bucket........."

She rose to follow him, her steps a bit shaky and she did stumble against him. "Now, why would someone with as fine a voice as you wish to die before your time?"

"Oh that?" James paused, his musket uncomfortably down his pants, "I used to sing and play the lute. Fun and games, really. But my real passion is beatin' the crap outta people for fun and profit! I'm a mercenary... not a good one, but it's what I do. Me friends... I let them go once I realized mercenary work wasn't my cup of ale. Tried singing again, but some pampered dandy knocked me out of the competition. So I can't be a bard... and I can't be a mercenary. I'm nothing. So i'm going to kill myself... see ya!"

She was silent as he told his story. "You are quite good with 'earthy' tunes.", she said after some thought, "Have you concidered catering to those this other would not perform for?"

It was then James started to think. Really think. ~"The woman is onto something..."~ He reasoned, ~"I have a dirty mind and a foul f**king mouth. Stupid boors will love me the world over!"~

"Oi... there's the Sword and Swan at Galaxia. Filtiest f**king pub in the mittle of nowhere. Scum of the Earth, such as I, go there to drink the local swill. They would love me... but naw! That's not legiti-mate art. That's filth. But... it'll pay the rent."

"You only need what you must live upon.", she said with a hidden smile, "It is how I live and it suits me."

With a new outlook on life (cheerier than the last), James waved his final farewell, staggering away, "Hey hon... if I don't make it out of this clearing, do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"If I fall, turn me on my stomach so that I don't choke on this swill. Thanks... doll face. Oh..." His stomach, and his body, lurched, "Here we go...."

His skinny weight crashed uncomfortably into a thornbush. He was propped up by thick brush, and face down as he liked. However, snoring, his guns on the ground and a bottle of moonshine spilling at his feet, he didn't look like the paragon of virtue and hope he pictured himself. It was all a rather pathetic sight.

The Webwitch sighed and made sure he was comfortable. She reached down to the pouches at her belt and selected some herbs, crushing them beneath his nose so the pleasant scent was breathed in. He would wake with a bit of a dry mouth, but none the worst for his indulgence. This was payment enough for his ribald songs and sharing of his drink.

Potent scents invaded his nostrils. His nose flared, his body twitched. The strong smells were aggrevating his head! His brain snapped back into consciousness as his drunken mass tried to right itself. "Ma'am, can't I just sleep it on in this... thornbush? How the hell did I end up here?"

"You tripped.", she said as she stepped back for him to rise.

James picked up his pistols, "Right-o. Well, thanks for the pick me up. Be seeing you around. Hopefully more sober than the last time, eh? HA ha ha!......"

He stumbled off into the direction of what he thought was town. It took the gentle nudge of the reclusive witch to steer him into the right direction. His steps followed the beat of a song,

"Bang away, my Lulu! Bang away, good and strong! Oh what'll I do for a bang away... When my Lulu's dead and gone?

My Lulu had a chicken. My Lulu had a duck. She took them into bed with her. And taught them how to.... oh right. Lady present. Sorry ma'am... I be going now."

As he walked back to town, the soft, rich laughter of the Webwitch followed him. Already he had started to gain an audience, even if it was a reclusive one.

[Takes place between 'Fight Club' and "There's Another Life, Part 1" Contains flashback material to "Dancing With The Devil In The Pale Starlight, Parts 1 & 2"]

"Fight Club II" Part 1 of 3

Primary Cast:

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Lt (JG) Ella Grey

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 11
Holosuite 4

Victor ducked under the Tellarite thug's wild swing and stiff-armed him back into the path of the other two legbreakers moving up behind him. As the heavyset alien fell back, Victor spun sideways and drove a foot into his abdomen to help him along, creating a tangle as the three crashed to the floor of the alley. Without pausing, Victor kept turning and grabbed the jacket of the man to his left, jerking him off-balance as he passed his inertia on and sent that opponent, too, to the dirty floor of the alleyway.

He stilled the man he'd just dropped with a brutal kick to the head, spun, and danced back as the Tellarite came at him again. One, then two blows landed before Victor found an opening and got one of his own in on the stocky alien. They traded another pair of blows before Victor could backpedal again, kicking a piece of shattered packing crate into the Tellarite's feet, causing him to stumble and setting up a series of swift kicks that doubled the alien over to receive a sharp blow behind the ear that removed him from the fight.

The last two members of the gang started forward, but stopped when Victor shook his head at them. "Next person I fight goes home in an ambulance, boys - and the one after that in the coroner's transport." He smiled chillingly. "Do you really want to do this?"

The youths looked at each other, back at Victor, back at each other - and ran.

"Smarter than you looked," Victor observed, turning to move back inside the small spaceport bar and see how Ella was doing with the two opponents she'd had.

Ella was in the process of going through a complex series of ducks and sidesteps. It wasn't like this in holonovels, she thought sourly. The bad guys always attacked one at a time, never in mass. She managed to shake one off long enough to kick the second one in the balls, only to have the first one grab her from behind. They struggled for awhile, the man half dragging her, before she did the only thing she could think of since her arms were locked in his grip. She brought her head back quickly, the back of her head smacking into his face. She winced, the man screeched, and he let go to cover his nose. Ella looked around her, grabbed the chair, and swung it at his head. He went down. She had barely enough time to register the victory before the second man recovered and came towards her again.

Quite tired now, it was an effort to raise the chair again but she did it anyway and swung at him a couple of times, really only connecting twice. The last time she missed and as her body followed through with the swing, her opponent stepped in to punch her in the stomach. Ella gasped loudly as she fought to find air to breathe, dropped the chair, and then let herself fall to the ground, hoping Victor would pause the program.

Instead, Victor put his foot out and tripped the charging thug into the chair. "That won't hold him long, Grey. Think of something. Think about where you are. Use that."

Ella coughed. ~~What?~~ She signed shortly, still trying to get her lungs to cooperate with the whole inhalation concept. ~~Use floor?~~

Victor ignored her. Ella frowned, her eyes searching quickly around the dirty floor for anything she could use as a weapon. They came to rest on a large empty bottle. Bingo, she thought, as she grabbed the bottle and quickly swung it downward on his head. The alien dropped like the first one.

Ella grunted, rolled onto her back and looked up at the low ceiling with its dark smoke stains. Her body was already aching, probably not having recovered from the last training a few days ago, and the floor felt good to lay upon.

Too good.

Sighing, Ella pushed herself up. ~~What's next?~~

Victor looked down at her, critically. "We take a break."

Ella shook her head. ~~Better to continue, before I change my mind.~~

Victor leaned over her, and extended a hand to help her up. "You earned it - and I promised you something last time, remember?"

She frowned but gave him her hand. ~~I COULD have continued~~ Ella told him. ~~So, what show do I get to see?~~

"A fight - a real one. One of mine. Because these are still training, and you need to understand what a real fight is and what it means."

~~Sounds like fun.~~ Ella signed dryly. ~~Did you bring the popcorn?~~

Victor pulled her up, holding on until she had her feet under her. "Popcorn?"

~~Humor,~~ she signed, and then clicked off an imaginary check on her hand. ~~Yet another topic we shall have to discuss later.~~ Ella smiled and then looked around for a suitable place to sit. Guess its going to be the stools at the bar, she decided.

"I've got two here," Victor continued as she settled on the stool. He drew a small case out of the bag he'd left on the bar and displayed a pair of isolinear chips. "One I won, one I lost. You get to pick which one."

~~The one you won.~~

"All right." He eyed her for a moment as he set the bag down on the floor and pushed it over to the wall with his foot. "Have you had any more problems with Leftenant Angelienia following you since we talked about that?"

Ella scowled. ~~If she has been following me, I haven't seen her.~~ She studied the chip for a moment, not wanting to discuss the Ktarian or think about the colossal hangover she had had after. She couldn't remember all of what she had said to Victor when drunk either. ~~Why did you win this one?~ ~

"Good. Maybe she's decided that it was a bad idea. For her sake, anyway, I hope so." Victor blinked and continued as if he'd not said anything previously, "That's the point of watching it, Grey. You tell me why when it's over."

He started to say something else, but paused and moved to kneel next to his bag. He rummaged in it for a moment, and returned to where Ella was sitting and offered her a small packet wrapped in cloth. "Here. These are for you."

Ella raised an eyebrow as she took the package, titled her head at its weight. Inside were three large coins, Terran silver dollars if she wasn't mistaken, and a piece of paper authenticating them from the Federation Numismatic Society. She laughed and put them in her pocket. ~~Replicated ones would have worked as well but thank you. I'll put them in my piggy bank.~~

"Piggy bank?"

~~It's a....oh, never mind. Let's watch this fight of yours~~ She smiled, pleased he had remembered their bet, and then turned to focus her attention on the action.

Victor nodded once and moved back to the wall, calling up the controls and inserting the chip she'd selected. He worked the keyboard for a moment, returned to stand next to her, and glanced at her as she sat on the stool. "Ready?"

Ella nodded.

"All right." He looked up. "Computer, run program Krieghoff Gyrfalcon One Three Delta."

=/\= Acknowledged. Voice print match confirmed. Accessing data and running Krieghoff Gyrfalcon One Three Delta. =/\=

Victor turned back and wordlessly reached out, slipping an arm around Ella's waist as she sat on the stool.

Ella's eyes widened, while her hand automatically moved to cover his.

Without warning, the bar scene vanished - including the stool Ella was seated on - and she was falling. She couldn't help making a slight squeak as she fell. Victor's grip tightened supportively, drawing her closer as her feet scrabbled for the floor in the dark.

She managed to finally maintain her balance a second before the floor appeared. Ella made a sound of relief then looked at Victor, curious as to why he was still holding her. Ah, that would be because she was still holding on to him. She let go with an embarrassed smile, stepped to the side a bit, and signed, ~~Hey, I usually only write the programs, not participate in them.~~

"Sorry," Victor replied as the holosuite reconfigured around them into a cargo bay filled with lights and the sounds of combat. "I should have warned you. My fault."

He gestured behind her. "We're on the USS Gyrfalcon, a Defiant-Class ship in spacedock at the Idran Shipyards in the Delta Quadrant, my last duty station before the Galaxy. This is a recreation from the surviving internal sensors, so we'll have to move around to see everything. I'm over there right now."

She turned to see a holographic representation of Victor. Stoic as ever, she was about to say when the Holo-Vic cried out, "Look out!"

The holographic Victor's warning gave a large, grizzled Axanari in a Chief's uniform enough time to throw himself forward, the bolt of plasma passing over him and searing the wall. Landing on his shoulder, the Chief rolled to his feet and turned to face his attacker - a Borg.

The lone Borg in the cargo bay turned, its face almost obscured by an overlay of mechanical parts, and raised its right arm, the complicated metal claw which had replaced the hand on that side spreading wide as the firing port in his palm irised open again. "Resistance is futile."

Holo-Victor frantically flipped debris off of the still body of a slender female engineer, calling out, "Hang on, Chief - I'll be there in a moment!"

The Chief didn't respond, as he rushed in on the Borg and shoved the Borg's arm up so the plasma blast fired into the ceiling. Jamming a heavily muscled shoulder into the Borg's chest, he forced it back a few steps, then wrenched hard, rolling it over her his and sending it to the floor.

The Borg struck heavily, slid across the deck, and collided with the wall in a ringing impact. Servos whined as it started to roll over, and a greenish glow started to form at the mouth of the plasma-thrower in its arm. "Surrender to the future," it said in a monotone. "You will be assimilated."

"We'll need to move now," Victor announced, stepping to the side and drawing Ella with him. "We'd only gotten one because they adapted to our frequency-skipping algorithms too fast, that meant we had to do this the old-fashioned way."

~~Always fun.~~ Ella's fingers drawled.

The last of the debris from the fallen cargo fell away and Holo-Victor scooped the engineer up into his arms. Throwing a glance at the smoldering remains of the first Borg where it lay against the opposite wall, he turned and started for the doors. No more than ten feet from the debris that had pinned her to the floor, the engineer suddenly raised her head.

"Computer... core," she whispered urgently. "Other one... going... Core. Fly ship... run... all from there." She coughed, a wet rasping sound. "Alvin locked... ship out... before... left Bridge. Have to access... at Core.

"I understand," Holo-Victor told her. "We'll stop it at the Core just as soon as we finish this one off." He took another four steps, almost turned as a heavy impact sounded, but forced himself to keep going. "Just hold it together a little longer, Chief - I'll be right back," he breathed, dragging the crewman out the doors into the hall.

He set her down gently next to another young engineer's body - this one a man - careful to turn her face so she didn't see the gaping hole in his chest where the Borg's plasma charge had caught the young engineer and burned through him. "Just rest here and I'll be back as soon as I..." He stopped speaking when he realized that the young woman couldn't hear him anymore. "I'll stop it," he continued, closing her sightless eyes. "I promise. No matter what."

The real Victor pulled Ella to the side, out of the doorway. "Time to move again."

Ella peeked a glance at him but, as usual, his face remained emotionless. She couldn't help glancing back at the dead engineer as they moved out of the way. Ella sighed.

A yell sounded, and Holo-Victor turned as the Chief sailed out through the open cargo bay doors and slammed into him, both of them crashing to the floor.

"You will be assimilated or you will be destroyed," the Borg monotoned as it walked forward. "Resistance is futile." It raised its arm, the plasma thrower lighting up again.

The Chief shook his head, looked up, and rolled to the side in a lunge for a piece of nearby debris from the hold that the first Borg's explosive destruction had scattered into the corridor. Rolling back over, he swung it and knocked the Borg's legs out from under it, the plasma bolt sizzling down the hallway well above either of the men.

The Borg made an electronic sound that would have been a growl of frustration in a more organic being. "Your efforts are pointless. Surrender to the inevitable."

Holo-Victor's hand reached under his tunic and snaked out the Phaser 1 holstered there, then reached out from his position on the floor next to the Borg and jammed his Phaser 1 into some exposed flesh, and triggered it, then made a face as it had no effect. He started to rise and deliver a kick to the Borg's head.

The Borg's grasping claw jerked up and caught the holographic Victor's foot, dragging him back to the floor. "You will be assimilated," it said, throwing out its other hand and catching the Axanari Chief with a blue bolt of energy that knocked him down the hall, "or you will be neutralized."

Holo-Victor struggled to free himself, reaching for some debris to use as a club, but his fingers fell short. "Don't feel like being neutralized, thank you," he grunted, reaching out and tearing free a handful of tubing from the Borg's leg.

Jerking as fluids sprayed out of the tubing, the Borg drew Victor closer and examined him with one startlingly blue eye. "You will make an excellent addition to the collective once you have been assimilated," it assured him. As it finished speaking, it slammed him into the wall hard enough to drive the wind out of him, examined him again, and repeated the gesture. Without another word, the Borg discarded him and stood up, moving towards the stunned Chief.

Coughing, Holo-Victor blinked to try and clear them. Shaking his head to clear it, he dragged himself up and blinked the last of the haze from his eyes in time to see the Borg raise the Chief into the air.

"Hey, Borg!" he coughed, stumbling to the cargo bay doorway. He held up his Class 1 Phaser. "I know this isn't any good on you as a weapon, but I bet I can take out enough of the plasma conduits with it as a bomb to keep you from leaving!" He thumbed the power switch to 'overload.' "Drop the Chief, or I send us all up in smoke."

The Borg turned, studied him for a moment, then opened its claw and dropped the gasping Chief. "This will only postpone the inevitable. Surrender the weapon."

"Sure thing, Borg." Holo-Victor smiled humorlessly, a predator's grin. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the whining phaser into the cargo bay. "Oops."

Ella grinned. ~~And I said you had no sense of humor. My mistake.~~

"I have one, Grey," Victor replied. "I just don't find the same things funny as most people." He looked up. "Pay attention to what's happening."

Ella stuck her tongue out at him.

The Borg straightened, moving with creditable speed as it lumbered to the hatchway. "That was not what you said you'd do," it protested, sounding more human than it had before. It pointed an arm inside the bay, a small antenna extended itself, something hummed, and the phaser switched off.

"I lied." Holo-Victor reached up and touched a pair of switches on the wall. "Goodbye, Borg."

With a hiss of hydraulics, the bay door, freed from its safety protocols by the holographic Victor's command, slammed down on the Borg's head, the creature's body hardly slowing the door's progress to the deck.

Holo-Victor allowed himself one look at the remains of the Borg, shook his head and blinked again, then started down the corridor towards Galdo. "Chief? You all right? We've still got one of them to go."

The burly Chief groaned and rolled over, glaring at Holo-Victor from the floor. "No benefits are worth this - not even if you paid in latinum."

"Think of the free drinks this story will get you," Holo-Victor offered as he helped him up.

"Screw the drinks," the older man panted, leaning against the wall. "I'm too old for this crap."

~~Classic Lethal Weapon reference~~ Ella signed.

"Lethal Weapon?"

~~Nevermind.~~

"We're all too old for this, Chief," Holo-Victor panted, nodding towards the bodies of the two engineers. "But we have a shot at getting older - they don't. There's still one more to go, and then they can rest easy."

Galdo glared at him, but straightened up. "So how do we do that? No phasers, no reinforcements because they raised the shields before the whiz kids could stop them - and I don't think we can count on the last one standing under a door for you."

The holographic Victor leaned his head back, wincing at the hollow sound that reverberated in the still of the corridor. He twisted his head to the side to see what access panel he'd banged into, and a cruel smile spread across his face as he read the words on the panel door. "Oh, I think we can come up with something, Chief," he replied, stepping back and opening the panel. "Matter of fact, I think what we need is right here..."

"Damage Control?" the Chief read over his shoulder. "What are you going to find in there to fight a Borg with?"

The program froze there, the resolution jagged as the internal sensors obviously failed at that point.

"That's the first part," Victor said calmly. There's some lost time until we got to the Computer Core." He glanced at Ella. 'Any questions so far?"

~~No, I think I'm good.~~

Victor nodded and raised his head again. "Computer, run program Krieghoff Gyrfalcon One Three Gamma."

=/\= Voice match confirmed. Accessing data and running program. =/\=

[Takes place between 'Fight Club' and "There's Another Life, Part 1" Contains flashback material to "Dancing With The Devil In The Pale Starlight, Parts 1 & 2"]

"Fight Club II"

Primary Cast:

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Lt (JG) Ella Grey

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 11
Holosuite 4

The room snapped away again, the cargo hold and corridor being replaced by the shadowy, multi-level interior of a Defiant-Class ship's computer core, a Borg moving around the central cylinder of the Core.

"I had the light level raised to human standard," Victor explained. "This all originally took place in the dark." He pointed. "Chief Galdo came in there, and I came in up there," he pointed to the overhead catwalk.

A minute passed, and then the Chief keyed open his door, followed a moment later by the holographic Victor doing the same on the catwalk and entering. Both men paused, reacting as though the room was dark - Galdo carrying a pointed metal bar Ella recognized from numerous damage control drills as a tool for forcing hatchways and levering deck plating, and Holo-Victor carrying a rescue axe.

The Holo-Victor squinted and tried to see something -anything - in the gloom as the door closed behind him, not reacting until Galdo and the Borg clashed below him. Holo-Victor reached out with his hand to the railing on the catwalk and moved rapidly along it around the computer core to the ladder as the sounds of combat continued from below him. "Hang on, Chief," he called out as his fingers found the ladder. "I'm on the way!"

The ladder shuddered as Galdo was thrown into it below him, and Holo-Victor clung to the rungs as his feet slipped, leaving him dangling in midair for a moment. "Look out!" he called as the axe slipped from his grasp and spun away as he tried to keep from falling. There was a clang as it ricocheted off the side of the Core, and then another clatter as it rattled across the floor, as he regained his feet.

Without warning the holographic Victor's feet contacted the deck, and he slipped, almost falling. "Chief?" he called out, getting his feet under him and putting his back to the ladder as he tried to sort Galdo out from the Borg amidst the flashing shadows that Ella couldn't see. Galdo and the Borg's running battle created a clatter to his left drew his attention, and he turned that way. He took a hesitant step in that direction, his left hand trailing along the wall, feeling for the emergency panel he knew had to be there. "Chief?" The clatter sounded again as the two fought on, and he took a bigger step, his hand finding the panel and tripping the switch - as one of the light panels flared to life right in front of his face and exploded in a shower of spars as a bolt from the Borg's plasma thrower struck it.

"That flash blinded me," the real Victor interjected calmly. "From this point forward, not only is the room dark, but I'm blind."

Ella nodded briefly, her attention fixed to the scene before her.

Holo-Victor winced, stepped back reflexively - and right into the Borg. It struck him suddenly, the sound of breaking ribs clearly audible as he doubled over. As he staggered back, the air driven from his lungs, Holo-Victor's foot fell on a piece of loose equipment left by a technician and he went over backwards, striking his head on the wall.

As Holo-Victor started to rise, the Borg struck him again, and crushed back into the ladder. This time he grabbed at his attacker in reflex, his hands slipping across tubes and metal plates until they found purchase. He shook his head, trying to clear his eyes as he got one arm around the Borg's throat. "Chief?" he called out again, trying to keep moving with the Borg in his grasp and avoid being shaken loose. "I've got a problem here."

"What?" Galdo replied from a meter or so away to the left. Then, "Can you hold him?"

"Not a chance," Holo-Victor called out, as the Borg spun around, trying to dislodge him. He jerked out a set of tubes he'd been clinging to as he swung out and banged into the computer core, grunting with pain at the impact. "I'm lucky to be here at all - I was looking into that light panel when it blew."

"You're blin... right." Galdo shifted positions. "I think I disabled its internal transporter in my first attack - it hasn't used it so far. It was trying to insert some kind of manual probe into the core interface, seemed more worried about that than fighting me."

"Needs access to fly the ship," Holo-Victor said, tightening his grip as the Borg spun him into the wall again with terrible force. "Trying... to knock out the blocks the kids... put up."

"Surrender and be assimilated," the Borg said mechanically, shifting position to try and dislodge Holo-Victor again.

"Okay, son," Galdo was closer, moving in on the Borg. "What do I - ooof!" The Borg snapped out an arm and caught the Chief in his right arm, obviously breaking it.

"Chief?" The holographic Victor gritted his teeth and scrabbled for another set of tubing to tear out. He found some tubing, jerked, and a hot liquid spilled out over his hand. "Chief?!"

"I'm here." The Chief's voice was strained this time. "He got me in the right arm."

"Can you still..."

"I'm alive." He interrupted Holo-Victor before he finished. "I can fight."

Holo-Victor reached up and tore at some circuitry on the Borg's head, more warm fluids gushing out on his hand as things tore loose. Stiff metal-clad fingers grasped at his, but slipped away.

The Borg backed into the wall again, driving Holo-Victor's broken ribs back into him like jagged knives. This time, Victor didn't even try to hold back the cry of pain - but it was choked off by the blood that started to fill his lungs.

"Son?" Galdo's looked worried as he circled the Borg, his tool held like a spear under his left arm. "You still with me, son?"

"All... right..." Victor whispered, the blood that came up with the words making them a lie. He started to fall away from the Borg, but a crushing metal hand clasped his arm and held him in place.

"He's using you as a shield, son!" The older man frowned as the Borg swung around, Holo-Victor's feet dragging on the floor like a doll's. "I can't attack him - you're in the way. He's going for the access port again!"

The holographic Victor's face cleared for a second, as he forced words out past the pain he was obviously in. "Chief... do what... you have to... do," he choked out, more blood coming up with the words. "Save... ship..."

Ella spun around to the real Victor. ~~You DIDN"T~~

Victor just looked at her silently, not replying.

"Son, I..." Galdo stopped, uncertain or unwilling to continue.

For a single moment Holo-Victor's voice sounded like thunder as he reached past the pain and snapped, "That's an order, Chief!"

Galdo didn't reply, just nodded once and backed up, couching the bar like a lance as the Borg reached out for the Core, the manual interface sliding out of its arm to reach for a connection - and then charged.

Galdo's improvised spear punched through Holo-Victor's back, carrying through him and into the Borg under the impetus of his charge. Holo-Victor's head fell back and he screamed a gout of blood as the Chief put his heavy-gravity backed strength behind the rush and drove the spear through him and through the greater resistance of the Borg, until the tip burst out of the Borg's chest and penetrated the shell of the Core.

Ella winced.

The Borg's cry joined Holo-Victor's, a mechanical squeal of agony that went on and on - until the tip of Galdo's spear lodged in a power conduit within the shell, sending an arc of power that seared through the Borg, Holo-Victor, and the Chief, the power arcing from the metal spear in all directions until the automatic cutoffs shut the circuit down, leaving the three in darkness and the program locked..

"That's all I have - the short circuit knocked out the rest of the sensors," Victor told Ella quietly, apparently unaffected by the sight of his frozen, impaled body a few meters away.

~~I...~~ Ella's hands began and then faltered. Her hands were shaking slightly and she took a moment to sit on the floor, smooth out her hair as pretense. ~~And this...was where you won?~~

"Yes."

She was quiet for a long time, looking at the impaled body of Holo-Victor and the Borg, trying to look past it to see the lesson. ~~You always manage to surprise me. Can you turn that off now?~~ She gestured quickly to the image.

"Hmm?" He turned, looked at the image for a second and nodded. "Computer, end program."

=/\= Acknowledged. Ending program. =/\= The room flickered away, returning to the default setting for the holosuite.

Victor crouched down next to her, regarding her curiously. "I surprised you? Why?"

~~It's just a solution that I would never think of.~~ Ella replied. She then socked him in the arm. ~~Don't you ever do anything like that again.~~

"It worked."

~~Masochist~~ She accused him

He shrugged, "You do what you have to do to get the job done."

~~Martyr~~ Ella's fingers snapped.

"If that's what it - umph."

She hugged him quickly before he knew what hit him. ~~And that's for making my heart stop at least twice!~~ Ella signed with a smile when she let him go. ~~God knows what will happen when you show me when you LOSE!~~

He looked at her for a moment. "You'll be fine - wolves are strong." He paused, and then added, "Only once."

~~What?~~

"Mine only stopped once. The doctors told me it wasn't beating for sixty-nine seconds after the medics got to me and they beamed me off Chief Galdo's spear."

Her eyes narrowed. ~~You're not helping yourself here.~~ Her face softened however. ~~And I bet you never talked to anyone about it, did you?~~

He shrugged. "No one asked, Grey."

She leaned back against the grid patterned wall. ~~Tell me about it.~~

"Nothing to tell," Victor replied calmly. "My heart stopped. Blood stopped pumping. I died."

Ella shook her head. ~~I've seen the technical aspects, Tiger. Tell me...~~ She stopped, couldn't help the slight amusement. Never thought I would play counselor, she thought. ~~Tell me how you felt.~~

"How I felt?" Victor frowned. "When I was dead?"

~~That's a start.~~

"There wasn't a white light or anything, Grey. No angels waiting for me. It was dark, and quiet, and I didn't hurt any more. It was... nothing."

She nodded, deciding that that was probably all she was going to get him to say on the subject. ~~You know you can talk to me whenever you need to.~~ Ella saw him start to open his mouth and added ~~Because I'll listen.~~

"I know," he said after a second. He looked around the empty room, and then asked, "Where do you think good people go when they die, Grey?"

~~I don't know. Heaven, I suppose. If they're lucky.~~ She made it sound more flippant than she felt. Ella had actually given the concept some thought in the past, deciding that she probably wasn't heading in that direction.

"And bad people? What about them?"

Ella frowned. ~~The opposite of Heaven, one would assume. Why? If you're about to say that you're going to hell, you'll owe me a lot more than a dollar. I'll be more like a dollar, a backrub, dinner and a movie, and a good kick in the ass.~

"What about the people who aren't good enough for Heaven or bad enough for Hell, then? What happens to them?" Victor continued, ignoring her threat.

She shrugged. ~~Surprising as it may be, I paid little attention during the brief period I went to bible study. Ah, Limbo?~~

He nodded. "I think that's what happened to me, think that's where I was. Nowhere. Nothing. Limbo."

Ella studied her shoes, smacking the tops of them together a few times before responding. ~~Is that good or bad?~~

"Neither, I think. It just is."

~~Maybe that's where I'll end up then. It doesn't sound very appealing though. Maybe I can get them to allow me bring something to tinker with.~~

"If anyone could, it'd be you." Victor's eyes took on a far-away look for an instant. "I think I liked it there. It was quiet, there weren't any people scared of me there." He blinked the look away. "But there wasn't anyone to talk to either. That wouldn't be good."

~~No. And I'd miss you, besides.~~ She exhaled. ~~Don't you ever get lonely, Victor?~~

Victor looked at her penetratingly. "I'll answer that if you answer me something. Deal?"

Ella made a small hrrumph sound. ~~You like this quid pro quo entirely too much, I've come to realize. All right, sure. I'll answer yours. You first.~~

"Yes." He paused, as if deciding to say more, and continued, "Yes, I do, all the time. I just don't let it run my life. I know people are scared of me, that they don't like me and that it will never change - I've known that since I was a child. Like I said before, the majority of the non-family people that can stand to be around me long enough to talk that I've met in my life are on the Galaxy. With only one or two exceptions, the only people that have been able to touch me since the day I was born have been family, and at least one of those people wasn't really interested in me, just what they wanted from me." He shrugged. "I got used to it."

~~Who was that? The Bajoran girl?~~ Ella asked.

"No, not Rissa - Melinda Travers, a Transporter Chief back on the Delaware. Rissa... Rissa and I worked okay when we were together, it was a two-way street." He frowned. "I wish Ar'resh and Rexa would stop bringing her up."

~~Be nice about your Aunts. I adore them.~~

"Everyone does - if they're not trying to kill them. But they never understood Rissa and me."

~~Never understood what?~~

"That's another question, Grey. Same rules? One for one?"

~~Fair enough. You still haven't asked yours, you know.~~

"I know." He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall next to her, shifting position slightly so he could see the holosuite's door after a second. "Rissa was part of the Bajoran population that worked on Deep Space Nine back when it was Terek Nor, during the Cardassian Occupation. She was one of the workers that kept the ore processing machinery programmed properly, but... the Cardassians found her attractive; very much so." His voice flattened slightly. "It wasn't easy for her."

~~Oh,~~ was all she could think to say.

"When the Occupation ended and we moved in, she couldn't go back planetside - not after what had happened to her. She couldn't stand the thought of all those people looking at her, knowing what had been done to her - and thinking that she'd sought it out to make life easier. So she stayed on the station, unable to go home and unable to leave. She was still there when I was posted to DS9. We..." He paused a moment. "Each of us had something the other needed. I was safety for her, someone that was frightening enough that they could keep the monsters away - keep her safe - and not so frightening that she was, in turn, scared of me." He paused. "Or maybe she was, but the Cardassians and what they'd done to her had made her more scared of something else than she was of me." He shook his head. "Pointless to speculate."

~~And what did you get?~~

"What was it that I got?" He regarded her quietly, not speaking until Ella was about to repeat the question. "She could touch me."

So can I, her brain piped up and Ella shushed herself and mentally shook her head. ~~She didn't get the vibe?~~

"Not that I could tell. Or maybe there were greater terrors in her world that overshadowed it, made it inconsequential."

~~Sounds like the perfect deal. Why did you two break up?~~

"I stopped a Bajoran from assassinating a Cardassian on the station. She... she wasn't capable of seeing that it was my job to protect everyone, equally. We fought once. I left. Better for both of us that way."

Ella regarded him. ~~You were lovers, right?~~

Victor's eyes were still calm, still untouched by the emotional context of his words. "No"

Ella tilted her head.

"She couldn't do that, not after the Cardassians. We shared an apartment, we did things together - and she touched me. Like I was a person, like I was family." He shrugged. It was enough."

She thought back on some of the things she had read in psychology, cases of children gone feral when deprived of human contact, people gone psycho because of the lack of love in their lives. She could see how their relationship would have been beneficial to Victor. ~~I'm sorry it didn't work out.~~

"It wouldn't have, not in the long run. Sooner or later I'd be transferred and she couldn't, or wouldn't leave. Or she'd have gotten better and discovered that she was scared of me." He shook his head. "Nothing to be sorry for, Grey - it just is."

Ella hesitated then reached over and took his hand, interlocked her fingers with his, and squeezed tightly.

Victor looked down at their hands blankly, appearing to neither understand nor expect the gesture - but didn't pull away.

She smiled, then let go. ~~Come on, you've got my curiosity going. What is your question?~~

"Questions. I get two, remember?"

~No fooling you.~~ her fingers replied.

He thought a moment, then looked down at her and asked, "Do *you* ever get lonely?"

Ella sighed. ~~Yes, but I can usually find someone to take that feeling away.~~

Victor nodded slowly. "I thought that was why. It's not good for you."

She arched a brow. ~~I'm not a believer in true love, remember? Besides, its better that way or at least I used to think so. I always kept people away because....~~

Victor was silent for a moment, and then prompted, "Because?"

She looked ahead at the patterned walls. ~~Because I thought no one could really want the real me.~~

"You're not a monster, Grey - and you owe me a truth."

Ella scrunched her nose up. ~~Not fair. You asked a question and I answered. That shouldn't count as a monster reference.~~

"If it had been me, would you accept that excuse?"

She looked at him and lifted up her chin. ~~It's not the same thing.~~

Victor looked at her disapprovingly.

~~Oh, fine.~~ Ella signed, sticking out her tongue. ~~Bad Ella. Ask away.~~

[Takes place between 'Fight Club' and "There's Another Life, Part 1" Contains flashback material to "Dancing With The Devil In The Pale Starlight, Parts 1 & 2"]

"Fight Club II"

Primary Cast:

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Lt (JG) Ella Grey

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 11
Holosuite 4

He nodded. "I ask, and when we're done then you can give me your truth." Victor regarded her intently for a moment, like he was studying a prospective opponent in a fight, then asked, "So have you found someone that interests you with all this looking? Someone you think might be more than just way to not be lonely for a few hours?"

If Ella had been drinking something, she probably would have spit it all over the place in a nice coughing fit. As it was, she couldn't help from blushing slightly. ~~Yeah, maybe. Two people. Um, a truth you ask? Well, let's see.~~ Ella racked her brain for something not too revealing. Finally she brightened. ~~I can't ride a bicycle.~~

"Two?" Victor asked in his annoyingly neutral voice.

~~Yes. More than one. Less than three.~~ Ella countered. ~~Don't care about the bicycle, eh? I should tell you, its a sad bitter tale involving a tricycle and some spiky bushes.~~

"Spiky as you?"

Ella's eyebrows shot up. ~~Retorts, humor, now sarcasm. I'm impressed.~~

"Spiky," he repeated. "You grow them every time someone asks you about something personal."

~~The better to protect myself with, my dear.~~

"That isn't good for you, Grey. Wolves are social animals."

Ella took on a bored expression. ~~I think I'm the better judge of what's best for me. Besides, its getting late and I have work tomorrow.~~

"Is that it?" Victor looked at her. "Or are you just growing different spikes?"

~~Adaptation. Evolution. Momentum~~ She signed cryptically.

Victor watched her straighten up and take a step before speaking. "Before you go, Grey, I need you to tell me why I won that fight. Or do you need to see the one I lost and compare the two?"

~~Maybe another time, Tiger.~~ Ella signed. ~~If I had to guess, I think you won because you were willing to do what the other guy didn't. That or pure dumb luck. Is that it? Do I win the prize?~~

"No."

Ella frowned. ~~I confess I'm out of ideas here.~~

He looked at her for a moment, then said, "I won because I wasn't distracted from what I had to do, no matter what it cost me."

She nodded. ~~I bet God himself, appearing suddenly from the heavens couldn't distract you, or me stripp...ah, yes, you're one focused guy, Victor Krieghoff.~~

Victor frowned. "What?"

~~Tomorrow?~~ Ella signed, ignoring him.

"Tomorrow," he nodded after a moment and turned to pick his bag up from against the wall, extracting the chip and instructing the holosuite to purge its memory. "Has Leftenant Angelienia been following you again?"

~~Nope~~ She signed before reaching for her gym bag.

"Good." He paused at the door as she gathered her things. "Is your roommate going to be home?"

Ella blinked, paused, and then turned back to him. ~~No. But I think that I won't have problems with Leftenant Psycho-b*tch. Besides, I doubt Indigo would be that much protection.~~

Victor keyed the doors open and stepped out into the hall, stopping so he blocked the door until he'd looked both ways - and at the ceiling and floor. "It's clear," he announced, moving aside to let Ella exit the holosuite.

Ella dropped the bag, put her hands on her hips, and fixed him a steely gaze. ~~Victor~~ she began, her hands speaking volumes. ~~I am *NOT* afraid of your little girlfriend anymore, *NOR* am I afraid of having people see us together. So stop acting like I am because it annoys me. Now if you have problems being seen with me, that's another story, and something I can't fix unless you speak up.~~

Victor waited for her to finish. "Ready to go now?"

She made a small sound and then forced herself to smile. ~~Yes.~~ Ella picked up her bag.

Victor didn't speak again until they were on the turbolift. "How long did that take to learn?"

Her eyebrows scrunched together.

"Shouting with your fingers."

Ella felt her face relax into a grin. ~~Not too long. The language itself took me six months. Well, to become mostly fluent. Shouting came naturally. I practiced a lot on my family. They, of course, had no idea.~~

~~Which was the point,~~ he signed back.

~~Your signing has improved greatly.~~ She added.

~~Never used it before talking to you.~~

~~I know.~~

~~It's interesting. Like yelling at your family, no one knows what you're saying.~~

~~It's fun being sneaky every now and then.~~ Ella agreed. The turbolift stopped on deck 5 and Ella stepped out. ~~If you're absolutely insistent, you can walk me to the door and make sure Angelienia hasn't booby-trapped it or anything.~~

"I insist," he nodded, stepping out after her. ~~She wouldn't do that,~~ he added, signing, ~~Too much chance that she'd blow something - his bag slipped, changing the words he was forming - off she didn't want to.~~

Ella couldn't help it. She had to laugh at that.

Victor stepped up beside her as they walked, looking at her calmly. "You laugh more," he observed suddenly.

Ella, still chucking at the vision of Angelina looking like a horrified Venus de Milo, managed to ask what he meant.

"You laugh more now. The first few times I heard it, you were remembering how, but now you know again and you laugh enough that you don't forget."

She shrugged. ~~I didn't have a reason to before.~~ Ella stopped in front of her door. ~~See? Angelina free. Unless, of course, you think she snuck into our quarters somehow.~~ Although it would be hard to override the system without arms, she thought with a smirk. And she thought the image of Bhrode yelling at Thomas was good for a laugh.

Victor reached out and keyed the door open - using Ella's code - and stepped into the doorway for a look around the room before turning to her and moving out of the way. "All clear."

~~How did you do that?~~ She asked, surprised.

"Not that hard. The master computer keeps them on file, and the right request - or person who owes you a favor - will get most door codes for you."

~~Point taken.~~ Ella replied. ~~But I honestly think I'll be fine here. I know her style as well.~~

"No." He shook his head. "I don't think you do - it's not in you."

~~We'll see.~~ She said with a small smile. ~~I'll see you later. Unless... you want to hang out. I just planned to work on a puzzle of mine for a bit. Not exactly thrilling but....~~

"Puzzle?" He looked around the room. "Not a good idea. I need to shower - so do you. And your roommate is scared of me."

Ella frowned. ~~Did she say something to you?~~

"No one has to say anything to me, Grey. Not about that. If nothing else, I can smell the fear on them. That's how I know you're not affected - you've never smelled of fear."

~~Well, she's not here now.~~ She laughed. ~~What a nice way of saying I smell bad. Well, go home and shower, then. I'll do the same and you're welcome to come back if you feel like it. I don't think Indigo's coming home tonight.~~ Ella added gently. ~~She's been hanging out with her new boyfriend a lot.~~

"No drinking. You're too slender to drink like you did the last time."

~~I'll have you know I'm much better at drinking than what you saw. I just hadn't eaten all day. But no drinking, I promise. Now go home, Smelly, so I can take my shower and get all pretty.~~

"You're already pretty," Victor observed in a painfully guileless tone as he turned to leave. "I'll be back in twenty minutes."

Her mouth dropped open. She watched him go and then shook her head. Can't say things like that, she thought. I'll start thinking that you're interested. She headed off to take her own shower.

"Year 815: The Ring"

Primary Characters:

Grey the Thief
Victor Demonsson

****

Barony of Galaxia
The Dark Woods

She saw the smoke of a campfire and edged closer. Ever since her two encounters, once with the dark man and the other with the Major, Grey had begun to doubt her abilities to properly sneak up on a place. Those two were just exceptionally lucky, she reasoned with herself.

Grey peeked around the tree and was not surprised to see the dark man sitting there by the fire.

A pair of rabbits were roasting on a spit over the fire, and as she watched, the dark man reached out and turned them once before leaning back against a tree, his dark leather clothing blurring his outline in the shadows cast by the fire. A very heavy crossbow of slightly odd design lay next to him atop a dark folded cloak, the hip quiver of quarrels next to it revealing that it fired a bolt almost half again the size of any crossbow Grey had ever seen used.

As she watched, the dark man suddenly frowned and dropped a hand to the crossbow.

Grey carefully crouched down, making sure she wasn't visible. The rabbits roasting made her mouth water. Her own rabbit had been terribly scrawny. And that meal had been two days ago. And what did the man need with two rabbits anyway?

He paused, bolt in hand and almost fitted to the weapon, and sniffed the air like an animal for a second, head turning this way and that.

She held her breath.

Abruptly he leaned back, setting the crossbow and quarrel down, as if whatever he'd sensed was past - or considered not a threat. He turned the rabbits again, shifted the spit further from the fire, and settled back against the tree, his face vanishing into a shadow.

Grey resisted the urge to tap her fingers against the tree. How could she get him away from the fire long enough to grab one of the rabbits? She wasn't strong enough to overtake him, not if he was sober. And she had already learned the man barely slept. She sighed internally. This one she'd just have to give up on. Grey slowly stepped back...

...onto a stick that broke with a loud snap.

In the sudden silence that followed, the dark man leaned forward to poke at the fire, never reaching for his weapon. He leaned back, stretched in a catlike fashion, and made a beckoning gesture with one hand in Grey's direction.

Grey's eyes widened. She drew her dagger automatically.

He beckoned again, broke the spit and set one rabbit off to the side, out of easy arm's reach, then pointed to it as if he knew exactly where she was standing, frozen.

She licked her lips, then bit them. She really was hungry, she reasoned. Grey stepped carefully in the clearing, her eyes glued on him. She advanced slowly, gripping the dagger tightly with one hand, ready to flee if need. A few more steps and she reached the prize. Grey grabbed it quickly and then jumped back to see what he'd do.

The man did nothing.

Grey crouched down, watching him warily. A few minutes passed and suddenly she could stand it no longer. She took the dagger and cut into the rabbit, then started shoving the pieces in her mouth and eating as fast as she could.

The dark man watched her eat for a moment before he started on his own rabbit, taking it apart with his bare hands. He ate silently, watching her, then reached down beside him, lifted a waterskin, and tossed it at Grey's feet.

She jumped slightly, then reached for the waterskin and shook it. Grey tilted her head to the side, looked at him suspiciously.

He just looked at her, his eyes reflecting the light oddly, and didn't answer.

Grey narrowed her eyes, took off the cap, and drank liberally. It was cool and surprisingly good. She missed her own waterskin which had broken a year ago after a bad fall. Maybe she'd just take his. She dropped it near her, as if she could care less, then went back to her meal.

The dark man just looked at her for a moment more then returned to his rabbit, taking a big bite and tearing it loose with a snap of his head.

She stuck the dagger in the ground, so that she could hold the rabbit better. Still shoveling the meat into her mouth, she looked around to see what else the man possessed. Precious little, it seemed, besides the crossbow. Grey stared at him. He didn't look like a guard or a knight. Certainly not a Lord. Huntsman, perhaps?

After another few bites, the man glanced at her again, swallowed his current mouthful, and leaned towards her, thrusting the broken spit at her, the partially eaten rabbit still attached.

Grey leaped back quickly.

He frowned and poked the spit at her again, less suddenly this time.

She mirrored his frown. She didn't understand why he had given her one rabbit, let alone the rest of his. She shook her head, held up the remains of hers as if to remind him that he had already given her some. Grey pointed at the spit he offered and then at him. That's yours, she thought.

The dark man pointed up at a branch over her head, where three more rabbits hung by their feet in the shadows out of reach of most animals, then offered her the spit again.

Grey's eyes widened. It was usually an act of god for her just to catch one rabbit. She mostly lived off of squirrels, nuts, berries, and the occasional leftovers Laura insisted she eat from the money Grey stole for her. She stared at the carcasses.

"Take it." His voice was a deep growl, like a hunting cat's, but without particular menace. He spoke the words carefully, as if unused to using them.

She reached out her hand and took the spit, this time not as quickly as before. He could have grabbed her hand but he did not. Grey sat back, truly puzzled but finishing her first rabbit and then starting on the other. She ate a few bites then decided she would take the rest to finish later. She smiled slightly, not having been this full in a long time.

Grey licked her fingers as she decided, then pulled out her coin purse and reached in for the ring. She didn't know why she had kept it all these years. The thing didn't fit her and she could have sold it, yet she had held on to it for some sentimental value. Grey snorted to herself. The girl had been sentimental, Grey was practical. She tossed the ring at him, than quickly scooped up the waterskin, dagger, and remaining rabbit and ran from the place.

But curiosity got the better of her. She wanted to know his reaction. Grey stopped near to where she had hidden before and peered out behind the trees once more.

The dark man had made no move to chase her, had not even stood up. He was still sitting there, looking at the ring he'd caught out of the air with a puzzled expression on his face. He turned it over and over in his hand, looking at it from all angles in the firelight, finally holding it up so that the light glinted on the stone.

Grey stepped a little closer, so that she was visible. She couldn't have said why.

He sat there for a moment, staring at the ring, and then looked up and away from it, out into the night -directly at Grey - with a look that was unmistakably confused. He stared at her for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to speak, appeared to decide against it, and looked down at the ring again, before closing his hand over it protectively.

Grey smiled, pleased that he had accepted her thank you, and disappeared back into the night.

Year 815

“You are entering the White Room…..”

(Title taken from lyrics of ‘White Room’ by: Alisha’s attic)

By Dhanishta Eshe
Appearing Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe NPC (Twin sisters!)

Mrs K’vol followed a hefty man through the dank halls of the hospital. He led her through dirty corridors to the west wing of the hospital, the wing that was rarely if not never visited.

The man Mrs K’vol followed had a belly the size of an elephant; it hung over his belt like a duffle bag. His off white coat was stained with blood, animal blood. He was a butcher by trade and an unskilled surgeon when called for. The ring of keys attached to his thick brown leather belt jingled like a jailer as he walked down the corridor, his footsteps echoed and the light from his torch danced round the walls. Moans from unseen mouths rattled the rafters like the howling wind; sent chills through everyone who heard them.

“Miss Eshe,” called the Butcher, “this way lass, keep in step. We’re nearly there.” “My…” Mrs K’vol was going to correct the Butcher, she hadn’t been ‘Miss Eshe’ for many years now but she stopped herself. It was refreshing to be reminded of her heritage, her family name. ‘Oh,’ she though, ‘family!’ She hadn’t seen her parents in seven years; they had left on a ship, whether they were lost at sea or still exploring she had no clue and her sisters health had deteriorated badly since she saw her last, three years ago.

As they turned the last corner she felt so incredibly guilty, ‘My only sister’ she whimpered in her mind.

“Here, Miss Eshe,” the Butcher said unlocking a large wooden door, “number 117.” “She has a name.” Mrs K’vol said sharply. “Not here she don’t.” he replied, “Only a number.” He opened the door slowly. Mrs K’vol reached up to take the torch off the wall.

“Oh, no Miss,” said the butcher stopping her, “fire agitates number 117. though she’s been quiet for near three weeks now Matron don’t want to risk it.” “How am I supposed to see?” “Why, take down curtain!” he replied with a raised eyebrow, looking at her as if she were stupid.

Mrs. K’vol peered into the room; it was dark, the curtain which was merely a piece of ragged cloth barley covered the barred window. It was growing dark outside, soon there would be no light for the ragged holey cloth to hide. She waited a moment in the doorway for her eyes to adjust to the dark and then entered cautiously.

Her sister lie strapped to a bed on the far side of the small room. Mrs K’vol gaped when she saw the haggard features of her once beautiful sister. The woman lying on the bed was thin as a rake, her cheeks sunken in, black rings surrounded her dark eyes. Those eyes which were once so bright, so full of life, were like two dark cess pits, so dull that they shined black in the dim light. She knelt by the side of the bed, not even able to utter her sisters name.

Year 815

“You are entering the White Room ….. continued”

By Ensign Dhanishta Eshe
Appearing Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe (Twin sisters)

By the time Mrs K’vol left the hospital, come asylum, it was dark, pitch black in fact. Her driver opened the door or her carriage and helped her inside. The seats were hard, she had spent the last few weeks riding in this carriage, you would have thought her derrière would have got used to the lack of comfort!!!

Thirty minutes later the carriage stopped outside her family home. There were no welcoming lights or servants. The house stood still as if long forgotten.

Her driver, Jones, helped her out of the carriage and took her bags up to the front of the house. It was in great need of repair. The door was stiff and Mrs K’vol had to put her back into it to open the dammed thing. After a five minuet struggle to open the door Mrs K’vol felt even wearier, she wanted to sit and weep but she had no tears left for her sister or for herself for that matter.

“Here Mrs.” Jones said handing Mrs K’vol a lantern from the carriage, “I’ll be staying at the Tavern in town. Let me know when you want to go back home.” She nodded her response, “Thank you.” she mumbled as he turned away, ‘He’ll probably be drunk for the next few days wasting my husbands money on whores’ she thought.

“Yar.” he said with a flick of his rains, the horses began to move, pulling the carriage behind them.

Mrs K’vol turned and looked up at the house, cobwebs everywhere and dust. She sighed as she entered, the lantern casting ghoulish shadows everywhere she went.

They hadn’t been rich nor wealthy but they had more than most, a decent sized house that they didn’t have to share with the livestock and land, quite a bit of land. And all of this was going to waste she thought as she trundled up the stairs. All of this was her sisters inheritance now that she was a Mrs. Married off at fourteen years of age to a wealthy Barron in a neighbouring town, she got lucky, her sister had not.

She lay down on her old bed in the room that she had once shared many moons ago, and after sneezing for ten minutes she fell asleep, still fully dressed.

"Potions and Flowers"

the Webwitch
Grey, the Thief

Grey approached the dwelling of the Webwitch. They had spied each other before but never had actually met. Her friend Laura traded often with her for the things that Grey could not get from the forest or steal from travelers. But Laura had been ailing recently and had been too tired to make the trip for the herbs she put in her food or the dye she used for the clothing she tried to sell.

Grey, who had met face to face with more people in the last week than she had in the last decade, had decided to make the trip for her.

She had little thought to her own appearance, the hair that came just under her chin was tangled and the breeches and tunic she wore were dirty, but she made sure that her offering for the Webwitch- a basket with a blanket from Laura, a few coins Grey had managed to take this morning, and a bouquet of yellow wildflowers she had picked as an afterthought- were immaculate.

Grey approached the door and, feeling awkward, knocked lightly on the door.

As Grey knocked on the door, spiders of assorted sizes crept out. All were curious as to who came this far. The door opened silently to a hut only lit by candlelight.

"Enter, Stealthy One.", came the rich feminine voice from inside.

Grey wrinkled her nose up at the spiders but they had not been unexpected. She entered the hut carefully so as not to step on any of the Webwitch's friends. The Webwitch was stirring a pot of root soup as she sat on a stool near her firepit.  To most it would appear as if she was making a fresh batch of brew, but to those who knew the herbs and plants of the forest, it was a simple curative for most cases of the chills or the breathstealing wheeze.

She approached the Webwitch, held out the basket to her and awaited her answer.

The Webwitch took the basket.  That blanket would be welcome when the snows came, and the flowers were a nice touch as well.

Grey shook her head and then tapped at her throat as an afterthought. She pointed at the coins and then counted off on her fingers, hoping that the woman would understand that she could get more if needed.

"Keep your coins, Stealthy One.", she said, "You and your friend have more need of them than I."  She set the basket and flowers on a small table where she prepared her herbs.  "What ails your friend?", she asked, since it had to be something strong for the Stealthy One to come instead.

Grey gripped her stomach and then covered her eyes with both hands. Laura had gone blind about a year ago, a milky film covering her once brown eyes. There was no cure for that but she seemed to think some herbs helped her gain some tiny sight. Grey was more concerned with the stomach ache. Laura would lay awake for hours and could scarcely eat.

The Webwitch watched the pantomine intently.  It could mean the Crab in the Vitals, but the Stealthy One did not make the motions for the wasting that went with it.  That was good as the Crab was a most ruthless fighter in stealing life. This seemed like one of the stronger stomach ailments, and that could be treated.

She turned to her shelves of herbs and began to select certain ones.  With efficiency she ground some up, while squeezing the milky sap from some roots, blending them all into a thick milky tonic.

Grey sniffed the air and then looked about her curiously as the Webwitch went to retrieve whatever herbs she needed. She started to peer into the kettle than squeaked a little when she saw the spider that crawled around on the outside.

"You are as curious as my little ones.", the Webwitch said with a hidden smile, "They will not harm you."  She handed Grey a goodly sized flask of the tonic.  "Have her drink a spoonful thrice a day until the pain eases, then once before each meal when her appetite returns.  I will make more as you require. She should also avoid spicy foods.  Boiled meats, unseasoned broths, bread, milk and cheese will help her along with the tonic."

Grey took the bottle and opened it. She sniffed but did not smell anything that she knew to be harmful. Not that she mistrusted the Webwitch but this was her Laura. She would make sure her old friend was taken care of. She nodded her thanks to the woman as she retrieved the coins from the basket and then quickly, yet carefully, left the hut. If the tonic worked well, she would gather more flowers for the Webwitch tomorrow.

The Webwitch watched as Grey sniffed the tonic, and nodded her farewells as the thief left. She knew this one would be back eventually. After all, those who dwelled away from the towns did have to stick together in their own way.

"Bargaining"

Saladin Inteligencier to the duke

The webwitch of the woods.

He walked in to the woods, the courtier's eyes swept and looked for the webwitch. She was always here and he could always count on her.

"Witch."

A fat, fistsized spider dropped from the trees and landed on Saladin's shoulder, heralding that the Webwitch was near.

He looked around and brushed the spider off his shoulder, "Are you around, I wish to speak with you?"

"I am always here.", she purred as she stepped where he could see her. She wondered what he needed this time. Probably an undetectible poison or something to cause madness. It usually was something along those lines.

"One of your pets summoned me out here, explaining you needed something from me."

"Perhaps....", she purred, dragging the game a bit. Always it was the same, a hint here, a teasing of such there. In the end the transations would be made and payment given, as well as both enjoying the verbal dance it took for the deal to be struck.

He looked at her, "You have always provided me with things I needed and I gave you my word I would provide it, what is it you wish, gold? knowledge... men.. women?"

"Something of concideration for the future....perhaps....", she purred, watching him with her eyes that glittered at him like bottomless pools, "But that is for another time... There are newcomers to the city."

"The mercenaries... yes my agents have seen them, and those foolish holy warriors."

"The merceneries are nothing.", she said softly, stepping closer to him, "Not even worth a wrinkled brow."

He looked at her, "And those foolish holy warriors, who wear the red banner."

Alone harmless.", she said, slowly walking around him, her gowns whispering as she stepped, "But the ones that sent them here...that is another matter."

"I see witch, they could prove troublesome. But people are still asking about the last holy warrior who succumped to insanity."

She shrugged. "These are not like those inquisitors.", she said softly, "A careful eye....and the rash causing herbs...used sparingly would do more than the bringing of madness."

He nodded, "and you will provide those herbs?"

"When have I not given you the herbs and venoms....as well as the antidotes..."

"Never, and I have paid you well, provided you with what you needed. Kept those inquistors away from your woods."

"Indeed...", she purred as she lightly ran a dusky finger along his jawline.

He looked at her as she traced his jaw, "what can I pay you for the services?"

"What are you willing to pay?"

"TO keep my posting to keep my honor, to maybe take the throne... I would pay what you ask."

"Most would consider dealing with me a dishonourable thing...", she purred as she let her finger trail from his jawline to her fingers lightly trailing over his chest.

"I do what I must to survive."

"As do I..."

"Both me and my lineage..."

"I am the only one.", she said, her eyes closing slightly, "But that you've long known..."

He looked at her, "When you die your line dies with you."

"Yes...."

"You wish a child?"

"In time...", she said softly, "In time...."

He nodded, "and who do you wish me to bring to create this child..."

"Someone hale....", she said, "Someone hearty and vigorous... The best male you can find in the realm..."

He crossed his arms, "we have laid together before when we wished it, yet I have produced you no child?"

"The times were wrong...and select herbs can block the union of seed."

"I will provide you with a strong virile male to produce your child..." He smiled a quirky smile, "me."

Despite her attempts at restraint, she blinked. "And you would renounce all claims to the child?"

"If you wish it. I can produce children of my own, but I did promise you anything you wished if you wish me to lay with you again, to produce your child I will do it." He crossed his arms.

She nodded. "For that, I will do anything and all that you ask...as long as the child grows to maturity..."

"very well... you will have nothing to fear from me I will renounce all claims to the child and I will continue my protection of you and your child." He examined her, "ANd I will lay with you as often as is needed to produce a child." Not that he was getting a negative out of the deal.

"With the right herbs, it will only take once.", she said.

"A pity..." He remarked neutrally.

"When you are.....up...for the occasion...I will be ready."

He raises an eyebrow, "I can be brought up for the occasion."

She chucked him under the chin with a finger. "Nothing should force the natural urges...that saps the strength in the end."

He chuckled and his eyes softened, something only she could bring out, "that is true, m'lady, then perhaps we shall have some tea and discuss whatever you wish."

"If memory serves...you did have seconds of my stew once...", she purred, bringing up one of the rare times he'd been to her hut, actually, he'd been the only one there and that had been because of a wound to his leg that needed treatment with no questions asked.

"And it was tasty."

She chuckled softly, "And you raised an eyebrow as I gathered the seasonings for it."

"YOUr cooking is interestin to watch but the comings are nice."

"Are they?", she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"They are."

"You also seemed to enjoy the special attentions that came along as well....."

"I did." He smiled, "it was very special."

Getting a smile out of him was always a private count of coup with her. He never did it often, so she had her own private scorecard of each time she managed to get one of the warm ones from his lips.

Score one for the Webwitch...hooooaaaahh.

"I should let you return to your duties...", she said, a smile in her eyes, "You are quite a busy noble..."

He smiled shyly, "My duties are done for the day. I came up here to speak with you."

"Perhaps we should go to the spring...more confortable there...and private.", she suggested, knowing he'd well remember that spring where she had to bathe him when he was with her before.

"Perhaps we shall..." He looked around then as he walked past her his hand 'accidentally' brushed her arm.

She noted the gesture with a raised eyebrow. Her smile was hidden with her veil, but he always got one out of her with these little...accidents.

Once they were at the spring, she casually let her veil drop, letting him see her face again. He was the only one who had seen her unveiled and she was going to keep it that way.

The Webwitch was not hideous or a crone by the farthest stretch. Her features were strong, yet aquiline, and she possessed a full set of pouting lips.

She took a seat on a rock that was close enough for her to dandie her feet in the water.

He sat on the rock next to her, his eyes traveled to her face and he sat next to her, "If I am granted the dukdome, which is a possibility you can have whatever you desire."

"I ask for very little.", she said as she splashed her feet in the water, "Just what I need to live on, nothing more."

"I can offer you riches beyond your imagination, acces to the finest books. Whatever you desire." He looked over at her, "If you desire more I will get it for you."

"I have no need of riches, or such. Just a roof over my head, food in my larder, and my little ones safe and sheltered."

"Ones, do you wish more then one child?"

She held out her hand and a small spider eagerly climbed into it. "These little ones.", she said with a soft smile, "They hunt for me, and watch where my eyes cannot. I return the favour with shelter."

"As long as I have power I can provide your little ones with favor."

She smiled at him. "Then power is what you shall have, as far as I can provide aid."

He smiled back, "it is much appreciated." Unconciously he brushed her hair back from her face. "You are one I consider my counselor and confidante."

"I do not warrant such accolades..."

"You listen to me, you provide me with intelligance when I ask it and you aide me, that earns you such accolades. All I give in return is not enough.

"It is enough for me."

~Mail Call~

Count John Bhrode
Jeremy Savoie, messenger

"Milord, your horseman Savoie is here. Shall I send him in?"

Count Bhrode looked up from his great bureau. His aged eyes looked at the servant with contempt, sending the poor soul quivering in his boots. The old man sighed with displeasure, setting the quill he held upright in the small jar of ink that set on his desk. He leaned back in the luxuriously padded chair, its back rising at least a foot higher than his graying head.

Finally, he spoke. "Send him in," he said, the command, though soft spoken, filled the room like warning tremors in the sky before a storm.

Besides the travel itself, the most tedious part of being Bhrode's messenger was having to interact with the man on a regular basis. Jeremy had long since grown use to the old man's sometimes boorish and abrupt manner, but he still would have preferred to avoid it. Without a glance, Jeremy moved right past the servant who bade him enter and into Bhrode's study. Savoie rarely fraternized with the house help.

"What news have ye, Jeremy?" Bhrode asked. His tone hinted of calm interest, but his demeanor expressed boredom. He leaned back into the cushion of his seat, his arms rested on those of the chair. The ruffles underneath his tunic wrinkled as his chest heaved up and down with breath.

"Milord, I have dispatched your messages as you wished. Dukes Price and Hoth in turn have each sent their greetings and replies." Pausing, the slightly dusty messenger reached into a leather satchel that hung from his shoulder and across his torso, and carefully extracted two wax-sealed parchments. "Shall I read them to you, milord?" he asked. It was the standard drill -- Bhrode was usually too lazy or disinterested to actually read messages for himself. In fact, Jeremy wasn't entirely convinced Bhrode -could- read.

The count nodded his approval and he watched as Savoie opened the letters.

Loosening the seal on the first parchment, Jeremy unfolded it and cleared his throat. "To His Lordship, Count Jon Bhrode: Felicitous greetings and salutations. We have received your messenger in good stead and are most pleased to know all is well in Galaxia. We hope the spring rains have been plentiful over your fields a- . . ."

Bhrode yawned and lazily twirled his finger in the air. Recognizing the Count's sign to move on to the important stuff, Savoie searched further along in the text, mumbling to himself until he found something of consequence.

"Ah then . . . . It should come as no surprise to a learned man --" Jeremy paused to cough over the words, "such as yourself that your reputation as wise ruler in peace and a valiant leader in battle has become well known throughout the kingdom. Such qualities are indeed quite rare of course and when displayed so abundantly --" Jeremy coughed again, "in one man it is a great blessing to count such a man among one's friends. We are most pleased to know that our harmonious affiliation remains intact even while the shadow of uncertainty casts itself across our land. It is during such troubling times that the bonds of loyalty and friendship are of the greatest import, lending as they do to mutual admiration and constancy. Please be assured of our continued devotion and unfailing support in your endeavors -- as we remain certain of yours in return."

The meaning of the words were not lost on Savoie, as he glanced over the parchment to read Bhrode's reaction. As usual, nothing obvious. Moving further down the page and mumbling more as he went, Jeremy came to the end. "Yours, R. L. Price, Duke of --" once again, the messenger was interrupted by his Lord's impatience.

"Yes, yes, yes. Duke of blah blah blah, ruler of the lands of yada yada yada, sire of ... I don't care. Give me the note and read the next one," Bhrode commanded.

Quickly setting the first parchment down on the vast desk, Jeremy produced the second parchment from Duke Hoth. Opening it, he read it aloud to Bhrode, skimming over the usual pleasantries and courtly language to the part where Hoth, like Price, told the Count what a great guy he was and what a blessing it was to have him as a friend. Again, Savoie couldn't help but choke two or three times in the process.

Placing the second parchment before the Count, Jeremy proffered his unsolicited evaluation. "It would seem, milord, that you have many friends and admirers throughout the kingdom . . . many, dare I say, important friends."

"Hardly," Bhrode harumphed. "They only desire my support and my men in their quests to become king. They wish to force me to choose a side, but Galaxia lies directly between their two lands. If the king dies before a decision is made, war will break out. And, due to its unfortunate location and strategic importance, this county will reside at the heart of the battles." He leaned forward in his chair, taking the quill from its jar and continued writing on the elegant paper before him.

"War, sir? With Galaxia in the middle? Indeed it would seem difficult times lie ahead then, for no man, not even the king lives forever." Silently, Savoie reflected on what impact a war involving Galaxia would have on the life of the local Lord's messenger.

"I must respond to these correspondences. You will stay here at the palace for the night. I will have my letters to you in the morning," he ordered. He wrote several lines on the paper before his head perked up. Jeremy remained in the room, standing ready. "Why are you still here?" he demanded, "What do you want?"

"Milord, I was wondering about . . . that is, I wished to inquire, er . . . I mean, ask . . . uh, about . . . ."

"OUT WITH IT, MAN!" Bhrode thundered, already tired of Savoie's stammering.

" . . . the Lady Erin!" the nervous but love-struck lad finally spewed.

"She is well. I cannot see why that would be any concern to you," Bhrode spat. His tone made Jeremy feel as if he were talking to a vagabond from the alleys of the village.

Seeing that this was probably not the right time to address his interest in Bhrode's niece, Jeremy merely stammered some more. "Um . . . well, that's really good to hear . . . I'll just go then . . ." he concluded, turning toward the door. He would have to approach Erin himself, without her uncle's knowledge or help.

Bhrode watched his horseman leave the study. Erin has an unworthy admirer, he noted. This could be trouble, for Jeremy.

"Sealing the Bargain"

Saladin Inteligencier to the duke

The webwitch of the woods.

OOC-Well, if you read the first post with these two, you knew this was going to happen some time. Content warning for M/F concensual sex while under the influence near the end.

The Webwitch pulled her feet from the water and curled them up under her as she sat on the rock. She gazed at Saladin in her enigmatic way.

He looked over the water, his plans would come to fruition and he would see himself the power of the throne.

"I always liked coming out here."

"Was that why you were here that night?", she asked, recalling the night the inquisitors were hunting. She had been running with the Songstress and they'd gotten separated. The inquisitors were close and she never knew what happened to Taalis.

"I came out here to make sure you were ok, I had heard the inquisitors were abound and I was feared for your safety."

"You led them away....", she said softly, "All they had to do was look past you into the brush and I would have faced the fires."

"I am glad you were spared the flames." He took her hand in his unconciously, "it would have saddened me."

Her eyes flickered down at his taking her hand. "You would have found another to take my place..."

"But not one with your mind..."

"That is true...", she said, "Though the Wolfwitch of Kling comes close...even if she doesn't bathe often..."

He chuckled, "I prefer bathing." He examined her again, studing her natural features and her sparkling eyes.

"Have the inquisitors questioned more?"

"They have not been here as of late... Your doing I would presume?"

"That of the church..." He looked at her with a smile, he had convinced a bishop with a nice bribe in gold to leave the woods alone.

"Definitely your doing then.", she said with a soft smile.

"I must after all protect you..."

"Or you lose the one who aids you in your schemes...."

His eyes said more then his nod, it was not just her aid, but the time with her, he found himself here, not for planning but for conversation, to talk with someone who understood him, and didn't judge.

"It is late....and I have yet to sit to eveningmeal.", she said, "Have you eaten yet?"

"I have not."

"I have enough to share, if you wish."

"I wish it...." He rose and offered his hand to her, "shall we m'lady?"

The Webwitch chuckled and donned her veils again as she took his hand. "I have added a few more traps close to my hut since your last visit.", she said, "I have meant to show you the way around them."

"lead the way." He noted as she veild herself to travel, why she as a beautiful woman, she would be at home in any court, in the kingdom..

She led the way, sidestepping here and there carefully so Saladin was aware of the safe places to step. It wouldn't do for sharpened branches to pierce a vital when he came to her hut.

The hut was lit by the slow burning coals of her firepit and she began to light a few candles once they were inside. Not much had changed from his last visit here. Other than some fresh herbs drying, the hut was the same.

He stepped in and sat down by the firepit. "Ingenious traps." He remarked to her having watched the construction.

"I watch the trappers, and add my own touch.", she said as she stirred the soup she had simmering, "The venom on the spikes is not pleasant..."

"I believe it, you have several unpleasant venoms that I have made good use too." He started to rise, "Can I assist?"

"Over on the shelves, there is a small bundle. The millar's wife paid me in fresh bread for a draught to restore her husband's ardour."

"The miller's wife would be better to keep her husband away from the brothels. That is what is sapping his ardour." He stood and removed the bundle.

The Webwitch chuckled. "If she gives him too strong a dose, there won't be enough in the brothels to satisfy him."

He laughed as well, "I take it this is a strong potion?"

"It can be.", she said, "Depending if it is taken with wine or water."

He cocked his head, a part of him was curious about the potion now, what was it like etctera. "Let us hope she mixes it with water."

"Probably not with that reddened nose of his.", the Webwitch chuckled as she got two bowls and filled them with the savoury broth.

He stood and helped her carry the bowls to the table, "Quite true. So eitehr he will wear out all the prostitutes in the kingdom...."

"Or tire out his wife like she hungers for.", she said as she brought over a pitcher of spring water and drinking bowls for them.

He nodded, "well let's hope that is the case." He let her pour some water in his bowl, and he trusted her, so he did not fear any poison.

She broke the round of bread for them as well. As she didn't have bread often, it was something special for her to be sharing it.

"That has been the usual fare of requests made of me as of late.", she said, "It makes me wonder if there is a storm brewing with the current calm."

"The king is growing old, he has not named a successor, the parties are alligning behind two dukedoms."

"And where do you stand?"

"I stand with me." He said simply, "Neither of which Hoth and Price can provide much for me."

"Not interested in being the power behind the throne for a time?"

"I have more power in this town, then being one of several courtiers jockying for power."

"But if there seems to only be two claimants....."

"If I pick the wrong one, I lose what I have gained, it is better to wait see which one is stronger..."

She nodded, dipping a bit of bread in her broth. "Hearing of intrigues like this, I am happy with my simple life here in the woods."

"It is a nice life you have made out here." He sipped his water then began to eat.

"This is good stew."

"Knowledge of the plants does have it's benefits...", she said with a teasing smile.

He smiled back, "well you cook well."

"I cook as I always have..."

"It is good."

"I would imagine it rather plain compared to the fare in the town..."

"The company is not as sparkiling."

"You flatter a simple woman."

"You deserve it, but simple hardly, you know many things

She shrugged as she ate, "Any would when they live here..."

He nodded, under the table his leg accidentally brushed hers. "What have you heard lately from the travelers?"

"Conflicting rumours about Kling... Soldiers being gathered... Much change is on the winds...."

He filed that away, perhaps with enough gold he can hire his own army.

"Thank you."

"My concerns are when the soldiers begin to lay waste to the land..."

"With foraging, and you could easily be found in such a thing." Their legs touched softly and he noted his bowl was empty.

"I would not go down easy...", she said as she lightly brushed his leg with her foot as she rose to get him more soup.

He rose as was his custom, he caught outside, it was dark, getting back woudl be tricky.

"You must leave?", she asked, noticing his glancing outside.

"No it is too dark to leave."

"I can walk you through the woods...if you must go...", she said softly, gazing into his eyes.

He looked at her, "What if I do not wish to go..."

"It would be your choice..."

"Would I be welcome?"

A warm smile crossed her lips and she walked over to him. She lightly ran a finger over his lips. "When have you not?", she teased.

"I wold not seem to be presumptious." He paused, "though I am curious..."

"Only when you've snored...", she said with a smile.

He smiled back, "I would like to stay..."

"And you will get cold feet on your legs if you snore..."

He chuckled, "do you have herbs to prevent me from snoring..." He then said, "and to make our being together. more intense."

"Of course...", she said, "As well as to make things...fruitful..."

"I would like to try what the miller's widow gets, perhaps we both can.. to make things more interesting..." He smiled shyly.

"I only have water to take it with..."

He walked to his bag, "I brought a bottle of wine."

The Webwitch had only once before tasted spirits, those that the mercenery had shared with her. Naturally she thought wine would be like that had been, and she'd felt quite sore in the head the morning after.

"It might make for too potent a draught...", she said as she gathered the herbs she needed.

"As long as it's not too potent."

"Water should be fine...", she said as she mixed the first draught for herself to be more receptive to his seed, then she began on the potion of ardour.

He felt like a young boy, awaitng his first time.

She smiled softly as she finished and handed Saladin the drinking bowl. The faint scent of cinnamon came from the potion. "Drink in one swallow, and you will begin to feel your blood burn..."

He drank donw the bowl and set it down. He could feel his heart beating faster, and his senses became heated.

She drank a smaller dose, not wanting to counteract the earlier potion she imbibed. The Webwitch made her way to her bed, slowly dropping veils and robes as she did so.

He followed her, leaving his own clothing behind and he was already excited. Gently he caressed her bare body as they laid together.

Her eyes glittered with desire as she began to kiss him, working her way from his lips to his neck.

He let his hands run along her breasts as he traced her hardening nipples. His body was aflame with desier and he wantd her more then ever.

The Webwitch positioned herself for when the time came. She teasingly nibbled at his earlobe before lightly sucking on it.

He let his hands wander lower, caressing her nethers to see if she was ready for their joining.

She was ready, even moreso at his touch. Slowly she wrapped her arms and legs around him, stroking his body lightly.

He gently guided himself in to her, Letting her wrap around him he moved in to her.

She moaned softly at his entrance. It had been a while since she'd last lain with any, but she was not complaining.

As they began to move, she delved into her secret knowledge of the body, lightly stroking him in select areas to add to his pleasure.

He kissed her powerfully as he thrust in to her, the ways she stroked him drove him to the edge.

But he held back, he was going to make sure she had pleasure too

Her nails dug into his back the closer he sent her to the point of no return. Soft cries of pleasure escaped her throat.

Thrusting harder and faster he felt her nails dig in to him but he was past the point of caring.

She wrapped herself tighter around him as that sweet moment of firey pleasure exploded through her. Her nails raked his back and she cried out loudly despite trying to muffle it in his shoulder.

He felt his own body shudder as he spent himself, gasping soflty he held her in his arms as they laid in the afterglow.

She half rolled atop him, watching him silently, her thoughts her own for now.

He softly caressed her cheek as they laid together. In unguarded moments like this she saw the softer side of him he kept buried.

She leaned her face into his palm, a soft smile on her lips. Still smiling, she leaned forward and kissed him gently.

He kissed her back, the fires had been slaked slightly, he still desired her, and every time he laid with her it became harder to leave in the morning.

Not breaking the kiss, she kicked some of the blankets over them. The night chill would be hard on their sweat dampened skin.

He smiled and hugged her to him. "the elixer made things that much beter."

"The elixir....or the other?", she said with a purr as she teased one of his nipples with a fingertip.

"Well both..." He grinned as her hands teased him.

"You've yet to complain.", she said as she kissed the tip of his nose, "Even that first time long ago..."

"We were one then, and are now...." He looked at her and smiled, "You always hold a special place in my memories."

"I do?", she asked with a raised eyebrow and soft smile.

"Yes you were my first."

She blinked at that. "You were mine as well...", she said with a faint blush.

"So we hold special places in each other's memories."

"So it would seem...", she said with a warm smile and kissed him.

“A Day at the Market”

By: Aileen Sheldon
Cutter Ka'ranin

The city was filled with people today, a good day to come to the market and sale goods. Sliding off her horse, Sheldon fixed her dress, and took both horses by their reigns. Walking to her normal spot, it was a small booth on the edge of the rest of the market, where most of the people entered. It was quite busy, and that was what Sheldon. The booth was small. The roof made out of straw, and the stand from trees. It was good enough for Sheldon.

Untying the buckets of seed, corn, potatoes and wheat. Sheldon, on at a time, placed the small buckets on the booth. Putting the largest bucket, which held her potatoes, on the ground in front of the booth. Also, untying the two large hens, she tied them to the booth, knowing she would get a good price for them.

Taking her place behind the booth, she smiled brightly at the people passing. There was music in the air, and people where having a good time everywhere. Her fingers taped to the music, on her thigh. She could fill the music in her blood, but did not know any of the, instruments, she always found this weird.

Cutter was starving, and his stomach reminded him of this fact several times as he walked through the market. He had worked long and hard yesterday, carving notches and fitting together large beams of wood. They were to be transported to the palace for use in the repairs on the Count's stables; lightening had burnt off a great limb from the giant oak in the palace yard during the storm two nights ago. Its weight had crushed the roof, breaking a secondary rafter in two, and leaving miserble beasts who resided there vulnerable to nature's will.

At any rate, he had spent all day working, without even a break. Long past dusk, when he had finally finished, he went home to his pantry, only to find it barren of any supplies. He had to go to bed hungry last night, and oversee the transport of the new rafters this morning on an empty stomach. But, the head servant at the castle had payed him a fair price of gold for his services, more than enough to restock his kitchen.

Why was the farmer's market so far away, he thought. But, he was already nearing the closest stands. There was a small one to his left, manned by a woman. She had several crops set out, some of which Cutter never bought, like wheat and grain. There was no bread oven in his home, so he purchased breads from the bakery, instead. But potatoes! And corn, he was so hungry he would eat it raw!

Cutter approached the stand, and immediately reached for an ear of corn. He husked it quickly, and bit of a mouthful of kernals.

Arching a brow, Sheldon couldn’t believe the display this man was showing. “Do you intend to pay for that, mouthful, sir?” She kept her voice low, but made it quite stern. “Or do you think that because, I am a woman I wont do anything?” She gave him quite the serious look, ready to take action. She knew he must have quite a bit more money than herself, and could do much more to her, than her to him, but that didn’t mean she would try. After all, these were her crops.

"Oh! Of course, I have money," Cutter said between the food in his mouth, "I'm just so hungry! I haven't eaten in two days! Forgive me."

Sheldon nodded, looking at the man, as if he had lost his mind. Cleaning her corps up, from the mess he had made, she spoke with a slightly softer voice. “You should eat more often, sir, for it is not healthy to go for such a long time, without food.”

"It wasn't by choice, believe me. So, what do you grow, besides potatoes, corn and wheat?"

Sheldon found this a slightly weird subject to jump to, but she relaxed slightly. “Not much, I must admit. I am I poor farmer, and have little money.” Standing straight, “I raise chickens, and have good eggs. Though, I did not bring any with me, thus today, but will when I come again.” The wind played with her hair, as she turned to nod to someone who seemed interested in her corps, but then continued on his way. “My farm is growing, slowly.”

She sighed, wishing she did have better things to offer these folk, for she knew she would make much, better money, but she didn’t. Most of her time when to watching her child, and his upbringing. “Is the corn, all you shall be buying today, sir?”

Cutter studied one of the birds that was tied to the support of the stand, pecking at the ground. "I'll take ten ears, and a dozen potatoes. And this hen, here."

Sheldon stared at the man in disbelief for a few moments. She was in shock. She thought he would tell her, he was joking or something, but when she realized that he wasn’t, she quickly started filling ten ears worth, then moved to counting out a dozen potatoes. “This hen is a good one. I fed her well, and she lays good eggs, believe me. You wont be disappoint, kind sir.” She smiled.

Figure everything up, she couldn’t believe how much just the one man had got. Giving the price of everything, she hoped he did not find her crazy, but many of the other traders charged either the same price of their goods, or more. She found her prices fair, and anyone who thought other wise could go someone else. "Two and a half pieces of silver," she said.

A fair price for a fat hen, Cutter thought. He reached in his pocket and pulled out this morn's payment, a gold piece, six silver coins and eight copper pennies. The gold, he would save. He would buyenough timber with that coin over the next two months that he could earn triple that amount. Cutter pulled the silver pieces out from his cupped hands, and dropped all but the copper back into his pocket. He counted out six pennies, twelve were equivalent to a silver dime, and dropped the money in the farmer's hands.

Placing the money in her money bag, she smiled. “Thank you, kindly sir.” She had just made as much as she normally did with three customers. She couldn’t believe it. Maybe today would be a great day, and she would be able to bring home something good for dinner this evening. She knew her son was tired of eating stew everyday, but she also knew he loved his money, and didn’t care. After all, he was only three.

A few ladies past. Sheldon could hear their whispers about her. A few people knew about her son, and they tended to talk. She knew that was one of the reasons her corps didn’t sale much. They knew her as the woman with a bastard son. She didn’t care though, it was her life, and she wished they would stay out of it. Looking at the man who stood in front of her, she wondered if he thought the same things, after hearing their mocks, and laughter.

"Why do you not lie?" Cutter asked, looking after the women who walked past. "Why do you not say you are a widow, that your husband was killed in a battle, was trampled by a beast or took ill?"

Cutter had never understood the customs of the land. Marriage was supported by the church, and they preached it was the only way to make the sinful pleasures pure. But Cutter was never married, though he was young yet. Yet, he had certainly experienced the carnal pleasures. In fact, he had shared his bed with one of those gossipers, long ago.

“Because, there is not a reason to lie, sir. “ She sighed, turning to a lady who asked for two ears of corn. Getting what the lady asked for, she took her money, and thanked her. Turning back to the gentleman. “I had one night with a man, long ago, it happened, and I am not ashamed. It happen, and life does go one. I love my son, and wouldn’t want him to end up hearing the lies.” She smirked, giving some feed the other hen.

The wind picked up slightly, and Sheldon had to grab her hair to keep it from blowing everywhere. “I do believe in marriage, and pray that someday, I will be blessed with such a husband. I will not lie, and pretend that I’ve had one, for I have not, kind sir.”

Cutter only shrugged. He had no response to that, the woman was allowed to live as she liked, in Cutter's opinion. "Well, then, I wish you well on your farm," he said, taking his food and his hen, nodded to the farmgirl and left.

Sheldon bid him a good day, and turned to take care of another customer.

yr 815

Ye Olde Clerkes

Randall and Dante Slackers.. apprentace shopwrights

Leaning over the flat wooden table Randall looked over at Dante.

"Now why are we here again?"

"I think it's called comic relief..."

"Oh yea..."

Someone entered, "some pipeweed please.."

A pack was shoved across some coppers were turned and they went back to it.

"So this duke Bhrode, who rules this land is insane.."

"Randall... "

"What, he brings in the inquisitors, who by the way have really cracked down on the brothels..."

The bell rang, "pipeweed please."

"I know, they ruin your dating lives.."

"Oh only you could bitch about dating, have you decided which of the serving wenches you desire. Veronica or Catelin.."

"Here we go again... I have a suspicion we've had this discussion before..

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