“An Unfortunate Assignment.”

by
Ramir Omar

The NPC: The Cadet Michael Nicholas-Henderson.

Michael Nicholas-Henderson was playing with the computer at chess for the tenth time when the shuttlecraft fell out of warp velocity and then all of the lights deactivated. He stumbled into the darkness for several seconds. It was then that the lighting was restored to the shuttlecraft.

[Backpost]

"Left Behind"

Principal Characters:

Lt. JG Victor Kriegoff
Lt. Ella Grey

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 7
Victor Krieghoff's Quarters

~~I hate when people don't listen to me.~~ Ella said as soon as Victor's doors opened. She let herself in and backpedaled so he could read her hands. ~~The universe would be a whole lot smoother if they just did what I told them to.~~

Victor shook his head. "It doesn't work that way, Grey. Not for you, not for anyone."

Ella sat down on the couch and gave him an annoyed look. ~~I always get what I want. Haven't you been paying attention?~~ She waved a hand. ~~Not that I don't like M'Kantu. He's more pleasant than Brhode but he seems as unmovable. There must be something...~~ She trailed off thinking.

"Grey, what are you talking about?" Victor looked at her blankly. "You spoke to the Captain? What about?"

~~Why, about you, of course. Don't look so irritated, Tiger. I *told* you I would.~~ Ella admonished and then tapped her lips with her fingers. ~~Everyone has a weakness. M'Kantu's no different.~~

"Even you?" Victor asked quietly.

Ella's eyes sparkled. ~~My weakness? My fondness for the opposite sex, wouldn't you say?"

"No."

~~It could be the company of a certain stubborn security officer.~~ Ella shrugged.

"I'd say that yours was that you refuse to trust anyone - even yourself- inside the walls you threw up to keep people out," Victor told her calmly as he moved to his room's desk and sat down.

She followed him and sat on the edge of his desk and kept a neutral expression. ~~Well, that's an interesting theory, Tiger. What makes you think that?~~

"The way you act around people, keeping yourself distant. The refusal to speak as a gesture of control. Your string of affairs with no meaning to them." He shrugged. "Seems obvious."

Ella made a 'hmmmm' noise as she rotated her ankle. ~~I think the same could be said of you, Victor. Oh, I know you'll say you HAVE to be that way but when was the last time you ever came to Curtis or me with a problem? When do you ever discuss your life without my bullying you first?~~

"I don't go to people with problems because there's no point in it, Grey." Victor tapped a few keys on his LCARS and looked up at her, shifting in his chair as if deciding whether or not to get up. "They're either going to try and fix something that can't be fixed or scream and run. The ones that talk to me... there's no point in doing that with them. They're never going to be there for long."

Something about Victor's voice had been bothering Ella since she'd arrived, and this time she got it: it was the voice he'd used when they'd first met - the distant, flat one scrubbed of all emotional context - not the one he'd slowly begun to use over the last months. It was like he'd reset himself, rolled back the clock a year and undone any changes he'd made in that time.

Victor got up, and moved across the room, the motion drawing attention to the fact that it was almost bare - his plants were gone, the few pictures he'd hung were gone... everything that had marked it as a place someone *lived* was gone.

Since there was nothing else to throw, Ella tossed his terminal against the wall. Victor registered a second of surprise, as it made a loud cracking noise, before returning to his 'normal' game face. Her eyes flashed angrily. ~~Damn you, Victor. You give up too easily.~~

"It's always the same, Grey. It always will be. Expecting anything else is pointless."

~~You never wait...you just assume. And you're not always right. I can see why people want to scream around you!~~ Ella's fingers snapped.

"Not at me - because of me," he corrected. "Intentionally on my part or not." He shrugged. "Either way, it's the same."

~~You don't even give me the courtesy of believing that I wouldn't just drop our friendship the second you were transferred.~~ She fumed. ~~Talk about trust issues.~~

"Trust has nothing to do with it." Victor moved to look out the viewport at the stars passing by. "Friendship has nothing to do with it. The only thing that does is that this always happens: I always leave. Nothing else holds true. Nothing else is real. Just that. They always send me away."

She struggled to get a hold of her temper, which seemed to be the main theme of the day. Ella walked up to him, since he didn't seem like he was going to move, and tapped his shoulder. ~~And if, for once, you didn't get sent away?~~

His voice was flat and emotionless, like a machine's. "It never happens, Grey. They always send me away."

Ella kept her face neutral. If he was going to pity himself, then fine... she had more important things to do. She was sure there was something to do in Engineering. ~~When you stop feeling sorry for yourself, give me a call.~~

Without turning around, he answered, "When I told you that I wasn't worth it, we both knew I was right, Grey. Just let it go. Easier for you, easier for everyone."

Ella leaned forward, stopped herself, and then shrugged. They probably were going to transfer him anyway. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Victor flinched and turned to look at her, his eyes unreadable as he stared into hers. "Why did you do that?"

Ella rolled her eyes. ~~You're not the brightest crayon in the box but you are by no means an idiot. Figure it out and let me know when you're done being difficult.~~ She left him, making sure she put some extra sway in her hips, not that he would notice.

Victor watched her go, then turned back to the window and looked out at the stars again, his eyes following first one and then another as it appeared and then slipped away towards the stern, falling behind and being left in the Galaxy's wake. "I always leave, Grey, always," he said softly, his voice still an emotionally dead monotone. "I'm always left behind."

"Paradox Staff Meeting" Part 1 of 2

Staff Meeting

Principle Characters:

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Commander Rebecca Von Ernst
Commander Lysander VanderPuls-Hawksley
Lt. Commander James Corgan
Lt. Commander Ethan Suder
Lt. Commander Rose Isis MacAllen-Corrina
Sub-Cmdr Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian
Major Saladin Bolivar
Proconsul Crom
Lt. Curtis Geluf
Lt. Jeremy Savoie
Dr. (Lt.) Janelle Reynolds

*****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Main Conference

The Romulan was apparently the last to arrive. He looked around at the small lake of faces staring at him, some with notable hostility, as he slipped into the room. This was the first time he had met the assembled senior officers of this ship -- and what a first meeting. The fires over Quentin raged still. "My apologies, Captain," Savar said, inclining his head respectfully. "I was needed in Sickbay for longer than anticipated." The African gave a short nod, and tr'Khellian took one of two remaining seats.

"All right, Daren began while still standing at the head of the table, ignoring the formalities, once the last of his officers or their replacements had arrived. It's been two hours since we beamed out party down and the planetary burn-off happened." He looked around the group, some still settling into their seats. "I need answers, and I need them now. We have to know if our transporter beam was the trigger for what happened, and if so why. Was it sabotage? A catastrophic resonance set up by out transporter frequency? Something else entirely?"

"errr...." Lysander ventured unhelpfully. He twisted in the seat, aware of the friction from the sunburn gained on his last Risan vacation still irritating his sensitive skin. "Maybe some smeggers just didn't read the bloody instruction manual on their cloaking device?"

Tr'Khellian glared at Hawksley, wondering what he was talking about, and what the word 'smeggers' meant. The mention of a cloaking device piqued his curiosity - but he still felt light-headed from the blood transfusion and sl ightly too confused to challenge the tactical consultant on this point. Besides, he felt this comment had been aimed specifically at one other member of the gathering - and it had not been the Captain, who he'd interrupted to make these outlandish comments.

Lysander waited for the precisely calculated moment to raise an eyebrow at the Smegging Ice Queen. He knew the blatant assumption he knew something she didn't would irk her to no end.

As per usual however, Rebecca had really no idea what her personal albatross was blathering about so she chose to ignore him.

Corgan arrived as M'Kantu searched for answers. His hair was in disarray, his black uniform smudged with gray dust, and a small trickle of dried blood running down his forehead. Just arriving from a rescue effort on deck 6, he was in the sourest of moods, and the deepest of shock. An entire planet... destroyed? Even James, in all his experiences during 'the war', never saw such destruction on a planetary scale. Not even orbital photon bombardments could match it. It left a pit as heavy as duranium in his stomach, tempting him to be sick.

"Sorry sir. Rescue effort on deck 6. Collapsed bulkhead." James apologized.

"Don't apologize for doing your job, Mr. Corgan," M'Kantu said without ire. "No staff meeting is worth a life." He looked around the table again and pressed a hand palm down onto the tabletop and continued, "Starfleet doesn't like it when their ships destroy entire planets, by accident or on purpose, even if those planets are desolate and uninhabited. Quentin was neither when we got here - but it is now. We have to know why - and quickly, before it happens to someone else if it wasn't an isolated incident."

With a wave of his hand, he indicated the dead world, parts of it still burning, that hung outside the conference lounge window. "Either we killed an entire species, or someone else did. Accidentally or on purpose doesn't matter at this point. Blame doesn't matter at this point. Knowing why and how it happened. that matters. That's all that matters."

"But to do that, we need to know what we have to work with. Number One, is that damage assessment and casualty report you and Mr. Geluf were working on ready?"

Rebecca raised a single thin eyebrow as if to question the notion that she would EVER be late with a piece of paperwork.

"Well casualties are really secondary at this point, Captain." She shrugged uncaringly. "We lost two Class I Warp Coil Specialists in that Engineering hull Breech that might be hard to find replacements for, but the rest of the deaths and permanent injuries were for largely superfluous personnel."

She passed over a PADD itemizing the gruesome details. "Fortunately for us, none of the really important people are going to be out of action with the exception of one of our prime Phaser Chiefs who lost a leg at the knee, but I figured we could have the Medics dope him up and prop him up in a corner somewhere with a minimal loss in efficiency."

She paused wondering why everyone seemed to be uncomfortable. Maybe they were upset about the loss in Phaser efficiency as she was.

"Woah. No need for that." Curtis said, "I've got the crew mixing and matching to cover the gaps. Everyone with a level 3 in engineering I've sent to Commander Suder. If Medical could update me as people start getting well I can get us back to full in no time."

"With respect, Commander," Sub-Commander tr'Khellian spoke up, "Chief Mirapoints is not indispensable: I have already instructed Petty Officer Wang to work double-shifts until the Chief can undergo surgery to have a prosthetic leg implanted." He looked at Von Ernst with a perfect deadpan expression, oblivious to the reactions of the other department heads who might have been shocked to find someone who responded to the Ice Queen on her level. Her remarks about casualties had not fazed him in the slightest - such attitudes would not have been even slightly out of place on a Romulan vessel.

Saladin nodded, "Perhaps we could use amphetamines as needed to increase the remaining crew's work efficiency, I would suggest an Ephedrine substitute that can increase concentration and retard the need to sleep. It does have a risk of serious illness or death, but they are negligible."

Curtis almost choked on the last remark.

"Equipment losses are really more important, and will be harder to work around. I will be coordinating with Mr. Suder to get us up to spec as soon as possible." She narrowed her eyes and stared across the table at the Engineer remembering what happened to the last Engineer that crossed her.

"Good work, Number One, Mr. Geluf. Thank you." MKantu turned. "Mr. Suder, what's the status on Engineering? How long to get us back up to speed?"

"A lot of systems are still shot." Ethan explained as he readjusted the already rolled up sleeves of his uniform. His jacket was undone slightly; beads of sweat were still present on his head. Clearly he had been working as hard as any other Engineer. His hands were a little dirty with a cut on his left arm. "It's true there have been quite a few casualties in Engineering. Good people. Just as important..." Ethan back tracked and decided not to argue the earlier comment. "It's hard to say, we're still assessing damage. . I have every Engineer on the ship working on it. Most that are injured are still pulling their weight around. Those that can't... I'm still waiting for Medical response to those people. Sensors and Tactical are down. I've ordered all transporters to be taken offline until we can run diagnostics on them. I'll get everything back up as soon as I possibly can, but it's going to take a while. A good few hours to get most of the major systems back up, but we'll get it done sooner!" he promised.

M'Kantu nodded. "Thank you. Try to trim that down, but don't cut any corners that will compromise safety past your standards. Concentrate on critical support systems first, but I want people working on sensors and the tactical systems as soon as possible."

"A lot of systems are still shot." he explained. "It's true there have been quite a few casualties in Engineering. Good people. Just as important..." Ethan back tracked and decided not to argue the earlier comment. "It's hard to say, we're still assessing damage. I have every Engineer on the ship working on it. Most that are injured are still pulling their weight around. Those that can't... I'm still waiting for Medical response to those people. Sensors and Tactical are down. I've ordered all transporters to be taken offline until we can run diagnostics on them. I'll get everything back up as soon as I possibly can, but it's going to take a while. Hours... Could be days..." he promised.

M'Kantu nodded. "Thank you. Try to trim that down, but don't cut any corners that will compromise safety past your standards. Concentrate on critical support systems first, but I want people working on sensors and the tactical systems as soon as possible."

"I can spare 5 or 6 people from OPS if you need them Commander." offered Curtis.

"We've got our hands full with other systems, but I can get a team to coordinate with your people and work on the sensors and tactical." Ethan agreed.

The Captain turned to the opposite side of the table. "I know sensors are currently spotty at best, but what have you got for me, Ms. MacAllen? Anything?"

"I've only been able to analyze the locality using limited short-range sensors. As near as I can tell, the planet's upper atmosphere is severely ionized due to an immense change in the makeup of the stratosphere. Sending a transporter beam down there won't guarantee that the item or person would re-assemble in the same shape it began with." She gazed about the room, fighting against using her empathic abilities to guage their thoughts.

"The lower atmosphere is another story. What I've been able to glean from my limited scans is that the oxygen levels have dropped, and CO2 combined with hydrogen increased. Methane is on the rise as well. Hotspots on the infra-red spectrum indicate highly concentrated heat signatures. I believe volcano's are erupting all over the planet. Sonic resonance scans have picked up what could decisively be earthquakes. Scattered heat signatures are showing what I believe to be fires raging on the surface, which is likely the cause of the depleted oxygen levels, and abundance of vegetation to feed the flames. I can just imagine what that scorching heat is doing to those beautiful oceans...

"I can't get enough of a focus through the ionization to determine if there is any life left on the planet's surface or in its oceans. I cannot say with due certainty if the Delegation team is still alive or not. The ionization is interfering with our ability to scan for their transponders as well.

"If we do send a landing party down, it'll have to be in shuttles, and full survival gear. The heat and lack of oxygen make it akin to living on Venus in Spring."

"Nothing more?" M'Kantu shook his head. "All right, as soon as Mr. Suder's crews get the sensors back up, you have priority. We need to know what happened down there. Interface with Tactical and Intelligence to see if they have any insights that will shed some light on this. Mr. Hawksley, I'll want you involved with that, as well as Sub-Commander tr'Khellian.

The Romulan leaned forwards, looking from M'Kantu towards the Chief Engineer. Prioritizing science sensors, indeed! How ridiculous! "I am sure I do not need to remind you that without shields and tactical sensors we are wholly defenseless," the Romulan warned, in dire tones. "We are currently easy prey for any foe - and limited in terms of our 'investigation'. Tactical systems must be the top priority. Only then will the full picture become available to us."

The chief intelligence officer raised an eyebrow at the chief science officer's comments, the woman was a fool. Science sensors were very low priority.

"Righto, I'll just ask Admirals Hoth and Price if I need to do all that, it's shockingly busy at Fleet Tactical Command and they're no doubt waiting for that review of the new GALAXY class platforms I promised them.. Where is your Tactical Chief anyways? I have a problem with the estimates SOMEONE made about the phaser control conduit relays to the new weapons systems...speaking of little problems... Errr... about that other little problem Captain?" Lysander began to drawl.

"Paradox Staff Meeting" Part 2 of 2

Principle Characters:

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Commander Rebecca Von Ernst
Commander Lysander VanderPuls-Hawksley
Lt. Commander James Corgan
Lt. Commander Ethan Suder
Lt. Commander Rose Isis MacAllen-Corrina
Sub-Cmdr Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian
Major Saladin Bolivar
Proconsul Crom
Lt. Curtis Geluf
Lt. Jeremy Savoie
Dr. (Lt.) Janelle Reynolds

*****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Main Conference

Sub-Commander tr'Khellian turned slowly towards Hawksley with a scowl on his face. What in the name of the Elements was this man rambling on about? Little as he knew about the intricacies of the Starfleet command structure, he could not understand why Hawksley thought himself subordinate to the Admiralty rather than the ship's CO. Surely, the Intelligence Officer and the Diplomatic Staff were the only ones with outside loyalties? For all he cared, Hawksley could do as he liked, so long as he kept out of the way. From the few interactions he'd had with the man, he had determined that Lysander was an oaf of the first degree, and could only conclude that his family was well-connected -- how else had he been awarded such high rank? Certainly not natural ability, that was obvious.

Ignoring the interruption, Saladin nodded to M'Kantu and made some notes, "I will expect any reports necessary to be attached to my office."

"All right then," M'Kantu sighed. We're down to the part where I stop barking orders and look for advice. The question on the table is this: do we send a landing party down to investigate, or not? The floor's open, people." He leaned back and waited for the discussion to begin. For awhile the only sound was Rebecca's soft annoyed sigh. She didn't think much of admitting one's weaknesses and asking for advice. A captain.... she thought.... should calculate the known data, make a determination and act on it. Everything else was politically correct fiddle-faddle.

Dr. Reynolds mind was elsewhere. There were injured and she's sitting there discussing whether or not they should send or not to send an away team. No one was saying anything, probably all still in shock. She didn't think that they should and she verbalized it, "I think we should let Starfleet investigate it. We could be accused of going there to sabotage evidence or trying to cover up something we did. This case should be left in the hands of those who are trained in things like this."

~~~We ARE Starfleet noodle-head.~~~ Rebecca thought to herself carefully keeping a bland look on her face.

"I apologize, doctor, but I have to disagree." Lieutenant Corgan meekly spoke up, "We could lose the trail of the suspects at any time. The faster we respond to the emergency, the better a chance we have at capturing whomever did this. And personally, waiting and doing nothing is criminally negligent. We should act quickly."

"I agree," interjected tr'Khellian, forcefully. "The more we *delay*, the more our chances of apprehending whoever did this evaporate. We have already wasted precious time. If we wish to exact vengeance we *must* act swiftly."

Dr. Reynolds sat back, "What do I know? I'm just a paranoid doctor."

"Doctor, with all due respect," so far he did respect this one, she did not seem to be as much of a fool as Malgin was, "If you do not begin investigating evidence could be lost, I do agree that we should be careful though."

James spoke in, "Careful as possible. A team of security officers should accompany the investigation crew. But I warn you, with the Galaxy damaged, fire support and evacuation will be limited if available at all. I also suggest that until the transporters are checked out that we use a shuttlecraft to get to the investigation site."

"Shielded shuttles, and EVA suits, and armed guards for our teams. And we also need to think about how we're going to support any field teams, once they're out there. We can't just beam them supplies, and we might want an armed Response Team standing by, just in case. This is sounding more and more like the DEFIANT mission." Lysander grumped, to no one in particular.

Corgan glared at Lysander.

Curtis leaned in on Corgan's last remark. "That would be your best bet. Four shuttles are badly damaged, but the rest are flyable according to my shuttle bay officer. If this is what we want to do, I'll head down there myself and make sure we've got a spaceworthy shuttle right after the meeting." the Kerelian said.

"Savoie is the best rated small craft pilot aboard." Lysander stretched long legs as he boasted. "Even if you can only get us something that limps, we'll take people down in her."

Dr. Reynolds sighed, "Well, if you are all set on doing this, I'd like to join the away team. Sickbay has their hands full with engineering and it might get a bit dangerous there. I'm sure Doctor...anyway, he can handle the load here." Reynolds forgot his name already, then again, she never was good with names.

"I would like to go as well to contribute to the investigation, sir." James added,

"I'd also like to bring my best investigation officer and security officer as well... if that is possible. After all, this can be considered as a murder investigation."

Curtis once again spoke up, "If I may also request to go down with the party, sir. OPS is under control and the engineering staff will have their hands full. Lieutenant Rex can handle things here. You should have someone to take care of the shuttle. Never know what kind of trouble we might have getting down there and if the shuttle gets damaged, it'll need repairing. Plus, I may be able to lend a hand...or possibly an ear, down there."

Rebecca sat quietly wondering if this chorus of "Can I go too sir's" were aimed at M'Kantu or herself. Traditionally the First Officer had the right to pick and choose his/her away team, but perhaps the crew was eager to cut her out of the equation and score brownie points with the new Captain. Sighing again, she swiveled her chair slightly to gain a better view out of the massive bay windows.

The Fires over Quentin were quite lovely from this altitude. Incandescent sparkles or yellow and orange wormed their way across the surface, encircling the globe in a fiery embrace. Swirling clouds backlit by the fires, and propelled by hurricane force winds were a meteorologist's nightmare, twisting and spinning across the sky. ~~~So lovely... .Just like last time.~~~ she mused to herself letting the briefing room activities fade into the background of her awareness. If M'Kantu wanted to micro-manage her away team, it was no skin off her freckled nose. The less she had to do with Starfleet, the better.

"I would volunteer for the away mission, but my understanding of Starfleet regulations was the person who leads the team selects the members of the away team."

Dr. Reynolds thought to herself, "Gads, I volunteered first, the rest just followed suit." She looked over at Bolivar, "Who cares if it is or not? It can't hurt. Besides, we are discussing what to do, not what Starfleet regulations say about volunteering. And speaking of Starfleet, let me clarify what I said earlier. When I referred to letting Starfleet investigate it, I meant someone who isn't on or affiliated with this particular ship.

"Would be nice to have an impartial voice as a check and balance." Corgan said.

Tr'Khellian arched a brow and glanced towards Major Bolivar. As the representative of Starfleet Intelligence onboard, surely this was his role? Certainly, if such a thing had occurred in the Rihanssu Galae, it would be the Tal Shiar calling the shots, weighing the evidence... and punishing those responsible. The only other 'independents' onboard, it seemed to him, were the Diplomatic Staff, represented here by a fat, grinning Ferengi who had so far said nothing. Thankfully. Savar despised that greedy, ugly race with a passion.

"It's good that you all want to go." Ethan butted in after hearing all the slobbering go around. "But I think the Away Team should only consist of the people needed. Someone who can fly the shuttle, people who can investigate, security officers and an Engineer incase things go wrong on the shuttle," he explained. "It's no good every senior officer leaving their post when they should be here on the Galaxy. If we all go, then if the Galaxy gets attacked, who's to say what might happen with the wrong kids in the wrong place at the wrong time?" He paused for a while. "I want to investigate this as much as anyone else, but as Chief Engineer, the safety of the ship and people come first."

"He's right," Savoie agreed, injecting his own thoughts on the matter for the first time. "This isn't going to be a picnic on Risa. It's an away mission, and a dangerous one at that. I'll pilot the shuttle," he declared, turning towards the captain and first officer.

"Who said anything about a picnic?" Curtis asked, "Commander Suder was also right about needing an engineer for the shuttle. I work with those shuttles constantly, its part of my job and I'm willing to bet no one aboard knows them better than I do. My department is under control."

Savoie shot the Ops chief an annoyed glare. No one was going to imply they knew there way around any shuttle better than he did. With immense self-control, Jeremy kept his temper in check; he didn't know this new captain well enough to go starting a scene in front of him. "Save your gambling money for a more sure thing," he said to Geluf in a thickly patronizing tone.

"So everyone wants to go." Suder said sighing at the frustration of what seemed like an argument. Why was it so important everyone went? "I'm sure that the Commander will take that into account when SHE decides who goes." he said leaning back in his chair and glancing down the table at Rebecca.

Dr. Reynolds felt that this meeting was going nowhere, "My apologies Captain but I'm needed in sickbay. If there is nothing else here that needs my attention, may I be excused?" She figured if they needed her, they could reach her in Sickbay where she could be more use.

Sub-Commander tr'Khellian grunted significantly. He was amazed at the Starfleet Officers' lack of dignity and discipline, squabbling like children over who got to go on an outing. But he was more amazed at the Captain, sitting there in silence and letting this rabble blunder onwards, leaving it to the Chief Medical Officer to point out that precious time was being wasted. What a farce.

"Of course, Doctor," M'Kantu said after Reynolds had stopped speaking. He'd let the meeting run longer than it should to try and get a feel for his officers, but they'd all made their opinions known by now. Anything else was wasted time. "All right people, in this case your opinions agree with mine - we send the Away Team."

The Captain looked around the table. "Is there anything else?"

Throughout the entire time, Adrian had been his usual silent self. Anymore more silent and he the Counseling Department would have been labeled as underrepresented at the meeting. However, presence alone suggested that the Chief Counselor Dallas would be satisfied by him being there. A calm, expressionless visage was usually seen by any onlooker that happened to pass their gaze upon the young-looking humanoid, and at times, if one could gauge it so, a faint mask of interest alighted periodically during the meeting. He felt just slightly out of place, but, he let it go, doing, as was customary for any member of his race, Listening.

Moreover, listening he was. The El-Aurian was keying in on hidden and unspoken messages sent by various officers throughout the room. He read body language, encompassing facial expressions, reactions, displayed and undisplayed moods that echoed forth. He knew of many El-Aurians who would have been entranced by now at the numerous amounts of feedback spread throughout the room.

He was also tuning out the impulses in his own mind. Thought about a destroyed world, brought back vivid images occurring during the final hours of life left in his own homeworld. In less than a day, the El-Aurian homeworld was reduced to rubble, thoroughly destroyed by the cybernetic plague known as the Borg.

"If it's all the same," the El-Aurian spoke up in firm tones. "I would like to assist in the investigation, perhaps even joining the away team. Counseling Duties have been very light these past few weeks, and we are fully staffed to handle anything that comes our way. Besides," a light grin, "I might be able to help if we run into anyone still left alive on the planet."

"Very well then," M'Kantu turned to Rebecca. "Number One, assemble your team."

"Dedication to the Point of Stupidity"

Dr. Lt. Janelle Reynolds, CMO
Lt. jg Dr. Klaus Fienberg, MD

Location: Sickbay

Klaus had managed to stabilize several people before his injury began to catch up with him again, he had to sneak away to apply another bandage, but he was unable to stop his own bleeding. He almost collapsed over a bio-bed, catching his fall with both arms, and holding himself up with his right arm as his left hand reached to his injury. He was nearly in tears, half from what he had seen this day, and what he was yet to see. The People of Quenton were in there too. But the other half was his injury, sapping his strength, and more importantly his life away from him. His thoughts were a flutter 'Why do I feel like this....why this pain? I've been through accidents, a war. Yet every time something like this happens I lose it. But I've never lo! st composure on duty. This damn injury!' Aloud. "I must continue you." Klaus' limp had become worse, and the bleeding continued steady, it was time to sneak away for another bandage.

Dr. Reynolds saw him, the blood and ran over to him, grabbing him by the arm, "Mister, you aren't going anywhere." She wouldn't let him say a word. "Get up here and let me look at your leg. Don't make me pull rank."

Klaus was easily startled, he turned showing that it was in fact his gut that was bleeding, and that the entire area of his body was affected, mainly his leg. "It's just a flesh wound Dr. Reynolds. The other patients need you more than me." A sudden searing pain in the wound told otherwise as he made a noise by sucking air through his teeth. H! e was beginning to turn white. "I must help these people! Their lives mean more to me than my own...."

Seeing how much blood there was, "A flesh wound my ass. Your a doctor, you of all people should know the difference between a flesh wound and a serious one." She waved over an orderly who looked like a giant bear next to them, "Get him up here on this bed." The orderly picked him up like he was nothing and put him on the bed. She noticed his focus move temporarily on him then back to her, "He's new. If you refuse to cooperate, you'll be facing him, not me. Now be still so I can see how bad it really is." She scanned him, making her usual "hmm" sounds, "This is serious, very serious. It looks like when you pulled out the knife...um, it was a knife, wasn't it?"

Again submitting defeat to a superior officer, Klaus spoke, "I am sorry Ma'am. I felt that I should put everyone else before myself. Noble, Yes? I couldn't move at first and found it dificult and painfull to remove."

Ah, that explains it. Well, looks like you didn't pull it straight out but at an angle cutting yourself somewhat. That explains why there is so much blood. I also have one in my collection."

"Family Heirloom. It was first used in 1950 by an ancestor of mine. It was soon retired to his collection and passed down. I'm not going to bother cleaning the blood off it."

"Ah, that is old, much older than the one I have. Now let's get back to your wounds." She wiped some of the blood away, "From what I can tell, looks like where the knife entered, it's done some nerve damage which could be why you are having trouble walking. As the new Chief Medical Officer on this ship, I am confining you to sickbay. If we don't take! care of it now, you won't be helping anyone except yourself in an early grave and I really would hate to lose one of my doctors to foolishness and stupidity." She was blunt but truthful.

She went looking for Malgin who is now the Chief Surgeon but he had his hands full so she'd have to do it herself. She gave him Morphenolog for the pain and then grabbed a medical tray and went to work.

Having regained his senses. "Sorry, a similar event happened on DS9. I was a field medic, assigned to a group of marines sent in to assist in reoccupation."

He looked around, seeing the injured, "This is a sight that both pains me, and reminds me of the age we live in. Good and Evil. There are those that would do us harm, not assuming that this wasn't an accident, and then there is us. Those who would give their lives blindly to save others." He nodded his head to get a good view of Dr. Reynolds' work. "Perhaps too blindly." He chuckled a little.

"Perhaps" was all she responded back to him. Almost finished, she closed up the wound with the dermal regenerator. She admired her work, "There, all finished but I'm afraid you might have that limp for a while until the nerves grow back together completely. Now, I know you want to get back to helping these patients but I need you to rest here for about 30 minutes then we'll see about you resuming you duties. Afterall, you were bleeding pretty badly. I just want to make sure you are okay." She scanned him one more time to make sure she fixed everything properly.

Klaus Rolled his eyes a little. Uncalled for, but he was not used to being on the receiving end of the surgeons blade. "Aye." He lay there, restless, watching the chaos turn to order. Sickbay was filled, but things see! med to have calmed down. The German awaited his release back to duty, there was still much to be done.

30 minutes later...

"Okay," she scans him, "looks like you are good to go. And next time you pull a stunt like that, I'll have you pulled from active duty for the rest of your natural life so fast, it'll make your head spin." She looked sternly at him then smiled, "Well, what are you waiting for, go, shoo, get back to work."

(After the Briefing, just prior to the Away Mission)

"Parallels"

Starrring Rebecca von Ernst

In the Darkness of her quarters, the only light to be seen was that of Rebecca von Ernst's desktop computer, and the soft blue reflections it made on her studious face.

The redheaded Commander leaned in close, examining the shimmering images on the screen with a grim-faced expression. The images were deeply familiar to her, but sometimes it helped to go back and examine the original records.

====================================================

=/\= AUGUST 24, 2375 LOG REPORT OF USS VICTORY=/\=

Captain Joshua Chamberlain reporting.

It is my sad duty to report that the crisis over Federation Colony Deltia III has come to a bloody end. As you may recall the nearby Lyran Hegemony recently laid claim to the Deltia system asserting that it was in fact a long abandoned Lyran Burial Ground known to them as Nar Hallas. They viewed the Artists colony of 15,000 Federation citizens as 'grave robbers' and immediately demanded their removal.

The diplomatic situation rapidly deteriorated and soon we were engaged in combat with the Lyran Battlecruiser in orbit, and their Marines on the surface. USS DALLAS and CHICAGO were lost during the fighting but eventually we cornered the Lyrans in low orbit over the planet.

Unfortuantely my new Helmsmen.. Ensign Von Ernst froze during a critical moment, and the Lyrans were able to self destruct their Matter/Antimatter bottles in orbit, thus destroying themselves, and completely scorching the planets surface at the same time. USS VICTORY sustained heavy damage in the ensuing explosion, but we have managed to restore primary systems.

I am afraid all 15,000 colonists and our Marine detachment on the surface must be considered lost.

I have removed Ensign von Ernst from duty pending disciplinary action.

Captain Joshua Chamberlain USS VICTORY AUGUST 24, 2375

===============================================

The sterile. . . .matter of fact words crawled across the screen, almost lending an air of 'routine' to the deaths of thousands of innocent men women and children.

~~~For me. . . . it ought to be routine~~~ Rebecca thought quietly, her face still remaining impassive.

With a slight flick of her thin fingers she scrolled through attached image files . . . . photographs of the Aftermath at Nar Hallas. The follow up away teams had found nothing but an ash-covered world devoid of even the hint of life.

She flipped through the photos quickly. . . .she'd memorized them all years before at her courts martial. She'd also studied the face of each and every on of those 15,000 citizens, old and young alike, until they haunted her regularly in her dreams.

Rebecca sighed. The byproduct of a photographic memory she supposed.

~~~Enough of this garbage. . .~~~ her mind protested. ~~~This is all old data. . . .there is nothing in here remotely related to the explosion on Quentin!!~~~

~~~Nothing except Death.~~~ she replied to herself. ~~~Somehow that's always the same.~~~

With a slight protest from cramped muscles Rebecca leaned back from the screen and rubbed her weary eyes. What rubbish. She was supposed to lead an away team down to Quentin within the hour, and instead of examining the current sensor data, she was hiding in the dark going over records from an event years before.

~~~But the similarities. . . . .~~~ her mind argued.

She shook her head. No this was different. It just caught you by surprise that's all.

Rebecca stood slowly. . . . . . stretching. . . . . . feeling tight joints pop in relief. Navigating the room in the dark, she crossed to the Replicator and dialed up her ever-popular Peppermint Milkshake.

The frosty concoction buzzed into existence before her, but Rebecca ignored it for long moments as the fire-blasted images of Quentin/ Nar Hallas danced in her minds eye.

This away mission was not going to be easy. Her mental control already hung by a thread, and exploring a world similar to the ones in her nightmares was not going to do her any good.

With a grimace she dumped the uneaten milkshake into the sink, listening to its thick sugary contents gurgle their way down the drain.

~~~How am I going to do this?~~~ she asked herself. The icy tendrils of fear wrapped themselves slowly around her heart, chilling her to the core.

~~~This. . . .this . . .is crazy.~~~ she thought. ~~~A. . .all those DEAD people down there. . . . .4 million of them. . . .all d. . .d. . .dead.~~~

On the bridge, and in the staff meeting, Rebecca had allowed herself no thought of the civilian casualties involved in the Quentin disaster, but now. . . . now in the shadows of her darkened quarters the images of a slaughtered civilization seemed to dance behind her eyes.

Most humans cannot conceive of numbers as large as 4 million in practical terms. They acknowledge it as a 'bad thing' but cannot easily visualize it in real terms.

For Rebecca . . . . ..4 million was just another number bouncing around in her mind. . . .one that she could quickly and easily translate into horrible reality.

It was a by product of the talents that made her hate her life.

Rebecca's real gifts lay in the two-fold combination of a near photographic memory combined with an uncanny ability to calculate and visualize complex mathematical principals and make accurate unorthodox predictions based on them.

The brain made the calculations, while the superb memory allowed for the juggling of complex equations in her head easier and quicker.

Everybody thought she was a tactical genius. . . . .she wasn't. She couldn' t tell the difference from an attack 'en masse and a basic defense in depth if it bit her in her skinny little butt.

What she could do is visualize and predict the complex three-dimensional vectors so common in Starship combat that in reality warfare, for her, was nothing more than a simple exercise in mathematical principals.

Unfortunately it made remembering 15,000 dead faces easy as well.

She wondered what 4 million new nightmare-memories would do to her psyche.

>>BLING<<

The soft chime drew her out of her ruminations, and back to reality. She had to get down to the transporter room.

Pausing only for a moment to examine a nearby glowing PADD, Rebecca let the flashing lights therein dance across her eyes for several long minutes before replacing it on the table.

She felt the beginnings of a killer headache coming on, but somehow felt more ready than ever for the mission ahead.

She strode out from her cabin with an evil smirk plastered on her face. Woe to anyone who crossed her path tonight.

She felt MEAN.

RISA BACKPOST

“Drinking Mixed Emotions Part 1 of 1”

Lieutenant (jg) Dhanishta Eshe

Dhanishta reported into Engineering, her double shift was now over – she truly loved Suder for that one!

She ran to sick bay and had her arm healed then she ran to her quarters and stripped upon entering. After taking a shower, the real kind, with water and everything, she slipped into a ceremonial robe and sat down at her computer. Several minutes later her link was established and an old Vulcan man appeared on the screen.

“Greetings, Dhanishta.” He said.

Dhani couldn’t help but smile at the old man, “How are you Sark?” she asked.

“I am….. old” he replied. Knowing full well that Dhani would not accept the usual line of, ‘I am very well and you?’ they knew each other too well for false hoods, “How are you?” he returned her question.

She was about to say ‘I’m fine’ but even though she hadn’t seen him for several years she still could not lie, “Troubled.” She replied frowning.

“Have you tried the techniques I mentioned in my last correspondence?”

“Yes, but its not helped with the real issue. I can meditate Sark you know that. The problem is I can’t sleep. I’m beginning to get irritated with everything and everyone……….”

He sat patiently waiting for her to continue.

“I’ve tried everything I can think of, I’ve even been to sick bay but there’s nothing medically wrong with me. They have given me sedatives but they don’t work. I’ve tried every form of meditation in order to relax. But………” she trailed off again. “I’m worried that it will interfere with my work. I’m now working a double shift and I can’t put others at risk like that.”

Sark nodded slowly, he looked pensive. “When did the insomnia start?”

Dhanishta flicked her hair in irritation, ~ enough with the questioning, just give me the answer, over 200 years old and he can’t fix insomnia. Stupid, bloody stupid. ~ she shook her head.

“There is no quick fix, Dhanishta.” He said as if he had read her mind, “You know that, in order to fix something you first have to know what the cause is.”

“I know.” She said sighing whilst rubbing her temples. “See, even you are irritating me.” She said proving her point.

“Relax, remember what I have taught you.”

She looked up at the screen; she wished she could be there with him. He could just delve inside her mind, find the problem and fix it, just like before. Her mind wandered as she tried to recall that hazy memory. But she couldn’t. Kala and Sark had full accounts of that day, or week, maybe it was a month. But she did not, and did not know why. It was like that experience was wiped from her mind. Kala never talked about it and neither would Sark, but she knew something had happened. It had always left her with an empty feeling.

“Dhanishta?” Sark called.

She looked at him refocusing her attention, “Erm….. when I joined the Galaxy. That’s when it started.” She replied, “I thought it was just because of that but it’s been months now. I’m surprised that I’ve been awake that long! But I’ve had this feeling since I boarded the ship; that I’ve been here before. People that I don’t know seem familiar, like Lt McDowell. I knew his name before we even met.” She thought for a moment, “But that was before I even joined the ship…….”

“You are part Betazoid Dhanishta, with full telepathic capabilities. Do you not think that you may be picking up on the crew’s feelings and memories?” He asked leaning back in his chair.

“That’s not possible Sark, I don’t do that.” She said defensively.

“Dhanishta, it is part of who you are. Why do you….”

She cut him off, “You know how I feel….” She stopped to reword herself, “You know what I think about that and you know the reasons why.” She almost shouted at him.

Her emotional state confused him somewhat, this was not Dhainshtas usual behaviour. Even though she was not Vulcan she did, especially when addressing him, conform to their way of thinking and talking. “Dhanishta.” He scolded.

She stared at the computer pad, unable to look at him.

“You are fully telepathic……”

She cut him off again, “That is not mine!” she chimed, “I shouldn’t be….”

“I know.” He replied, “But none the less you are. And you must not deny yourself that. You are not Kerenza. And you never will be.”

She glared at him. Her nostrils flaring at the mention of her mothers name.

He continued, “You were my best student Dhanishta, I had trained for over a hundred years and you, not even a fraction of that time yet your telepathic ability exceeded my own. I do not understand why you refuse to use what you have.”

“I do not wish to talk about this, Sark.” She said trying to control the anger building inside her. She could feel her spots prickle and a hot sweat broke out over her body. She clenched her fists with frustration and confusion at such feelings.

“You must.” He concluded. “Kerenza was punished for what she did. You should not be. And you must not punish yourself. The error was not yours”

“I do not wish to talk about her.” Dhanishta screamed at the consol. Standing up she banged her fist down on the pad, ending the transmission.

The rage coiled inside her and she could not diminish it. Like a furious Klingon she threw herself around her quarters trashing everything in sight. Many of her belongings were in storage containers, which she picked up and threw across the room. The contents flying everywhere.

When she had finished throwing everything that she could see she stalked out of her quarters. Her bare feet bled from the broken glass that she stomped over, she had cuts all over her hands and face. She had even managed to cut her arm again and somehow her right thigh. The robe she wore was ripped and stained with blood but she didn’t care, right now she could think of only one thing left to try….

RISA BACKPOST

“Drinking Mixed Emotions Part 2 of 3”

by
Lieutenant (jg) Dhanishta Eshe &
Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder

*** Ten Forward ***

In a dark corner of Ten Forward Dhanishta sat. She had just polished off her third bottle of Blood Wine, and was craving something stronger. Ignoring the glances of the other officers she marched up to the bar.

Ethan Suder entered Ten Forward and looked around. There wasn’t anyone in particular that he saw, not in a glance anyway. He approached the bar and stood at the very end, leaning on the bar with his right elbow and looking at some information on a data padd. He looked up after seeing some movement and thought it was the bar tender turning to head his way, instead, he handed a bottle to someone wearing a sort of silk robe. Looked like it was religious in some way, or at least ceremonial. He then managed to look passed the hair that hung loose and saw Dhanishta Eshe.

After she stormed away from the bar, the bar tender approached Ethan, throwing a cloth over his shoulder as he did so. “So what’s her story?” Ethan asked. “Don’t know. She arrived a little under an hour ago. Been here since, drinking Bloodwine.” The bar tender replied. “Hmmm.” Ethan replied as he watched Dhanishta sit at a table shrouded in darkness. “Bekel, dark, strong.” Ethan ordered. As the bar tender began making the drink, Ethan finished reading what was left of the info on the data padd and thanked the bar tender for the drink.

Ethan sipped his drink and looked at the data padd, pretending to read it as he slowly made his way over to Dhanishta.

Dhanishta sat down at her table and began to pour out the contents into her glass. She stopped when the glass was one quarter full. Picking it up she looked at it for a moment before downing it. Then she slid the glass to the other side of the table and continued to drink from the bottle, glaring at the table in-between swigs.

Suder reached the table and looked at the cut-faced Dhanishta. He titled his head with curiosity and placed the data padd he carried on to the table. “Rough night, huh?” he asked, more rhetorical than anything else. “So what’s your excuse for being here?”

She looked up, still glaring, to see who it was who disturbed her brooding. “I’m getting…….” She thought of the most unvulcan term for drunk, “plastered.” She concluded.

The Chief Engineer sat down casually and reached over towards Dhanishta, drink in hand. He jolted his glass slightly that clinked with Dhanishta’s bottle. “Cheers.” He said before taking a long sip of his own drink. “You probably picked the best table for brooding. Nice and dark, not many people bug you when you’re at this table.” He continued to drink out of the rather tall glass and shook his glass a little, allowing the extremely thick, dark blue liquid to swirl around inside. “About you choosing the Vulcan way of life… I take it back.” He said raising his glass again as if to say ‘cheers’ and took another sip.

“Yet somehow you’ve managed to ‘bug’ me Commander.” She replied returning her focus to the table. “I guess you come here a lot.” She stated rather than questioned.

“You’re not the only one with problems.” Ethan shot back. “This, I guess,” Ethan said pointing at the table, “is the brooding table.” He emptied his glass and signalled for the bar tender to bring over a bottle. “I usually try to avoid places like this, less chance of people coming up to you and constantly asking ‘what’s wrong?’”

“So far you’re the first.” She replied. “Besides if I sit down in my quarters my arse would bleed too!”

“Ok, but I haven’t asked you what’s wrong, so give me some credit.” He replied quietly. “I assume someone pissed you off you trashed your quarters. Either that you have a big cat lurking somewhere in your quarters.”

“Big cat.” She replied standing up.

“Going so soon?” he asked.

She cut in before he could finish, “You want another? I’m dry.”

“Why not?” Ethan replied sliding his glass across the table expertly. Most people he had seen do that put too much power in the action and the glass would just slide off the end of the table. But his glass just came to a halt on the edge, next to Dhanishta.

She took the glass and left for the bar.

A few minutes later she returned with a tray of bottles, and one full glass. She placed the glass in front of Suder and sat down. She arranged the bottles in a semi circle in front of her and pointed at each one in turn, “Enie minie miney mo…” she began.

Ethan took a moment to glance around Ten Forward. Not too many people about. It must have been late, or early. He didn’t know what time was any more. He always seemed to be up, working or doing something productive. He brought his attention back to Dhanishta. “I take it that communication didn’t go to well.” He commented as he watched the younger Engineer pour the drink into the glasses. Ethan was glad he had just eaten, otherwise he might not last long tonight, but he was confident that they would both be getting nicely drunk and probably end up talking complete crap for a few hours and then pretend tomorrow that nothing happened and nothing was said. Ethan sat there for a while, in silence. He was content either way and if Dhanishta wanted to talk, she knew he was there.

“I really wish you would stop doing that.” She said, “I find it invasive.”

“Doing what?” Ethan asked with raised eyebrows.

“Reading my mind, my thoughts.” She replied still staring at the table.

Ethan drunk from his glance again and calmly placed his drink on the table. “I didn’t. I just finished a shift, was monitoring ship systems and all communication systems. Noticed yours.” Ethan explained. “I don’t go around probing people, reading thoughts, playing guessing games with people. But I do read body language.”

She looked up from her bottles and caught his gaze, “I’m sorry.” She said. She picked her next bottle and took an extra long swig.

Ethan finished what was left in his glass and reached over the table and grabbed a bottle of his own. Taking a swig, he looked over at Dhanishta. He sat back in his chair and looked at the table.

She pulled out another chair out from under the table with her legs and propped her feet up on it. Noticing that Suder was still there and was probably not going to leave any time soon she asked, “So, why are you down here?”

“Got bored staring at the walls in Engineering. My Quarters too. Thought I’d take a stroll. Then I felt like having a couple of drinks. And what better place than here?” he asked sarcastically. “As I said, you’re not the only one with problems.”

“I don’t presume that I am. And I don’t have any problems.” She lied. “Just fancied getting drunk, it’s an interesting experience.” She said flatly.

“You don’t have any problems, right because getting scratched, bruised, drunk and broody because you’re fine is the way everything goes when the sun is shining.” Ethan said. “I don’t expect you to pour your heart to me, you’ll notice that I haven’t asked you what’s wrong. I don’t mind listening, but if you don’t want to talk, fine, have another drink.” He said with a chuckle. He looked into his own drink in the bottle and swirled it around again.

“Do you find me amusing Commander?” she said standing up. Her fists were clenched and her jaw firmly set. She could feel the rage inside her bursting to get out. She didn’t understand where these feelings were coming from, which made her more angry.

“I think you probably have comedy like values buried somewhere, but right now, I don’t, no.” He replied. “Besides, why would I?”

“Then why were you laughing?” she questioned demandingly through gritted teeth.

“I thought the idea of us having another drink when we’re clearly going to was kind of funny. It’s not like you, or even me need to be told to have another drink.” He said chuckling again. Maybe the alcohol was beginning to get to him, just a little.

She turned from him and walked back up to the bar. Again she returned with a tray full of bottles. This time she picked one quickly and downed the entire contents. She sat down hard and opened another bottle, the glass sat redundant on the tray.

Ethan raised an eyebrow and smiled as he watched Dhanishta down a whole bottle. Grabbing one himself, he opened it and began downing it himself. Gulp after gulp, he finally emptied the bottle and slid it across the table to the edge. He grabbed another and opened it. “I have to admit, you can hold your drink, not like humans.” He chuckled. “More like a Cardassian, or Klingon.”

“I learnt from the best. As I said before I have many Klingon traits. I even have a House, or too.” She boasted.

“And here I am with quarters. Not much in comparison I guess. But then I suppose if you have a family, there’s enough people to have a House. Klingon or otherwise.”

“I don’t have a family.” She said slightly confused. “What are you talking about?” she asked frowning not really following the conversation.

Ethan frowned. “You have a sister, that’s enough for a family.” He said looking back at the table.

She nodded still confused. “Sure, yep, great.” She mumbled reaching for another bottle.

“So what’s your deal? People know why I’m here…” he said waving his hand around the table. He looked confused for a moment. For a short while there, he imagined that McDowell and Dallas were there too. He raised the bottle and read the label on it. “Huh…” he muttered. “Ok, so why are you here?”

“To get drunk of course, silly.” She said raising her hands gesturing at the ceiling.

“Getting drunk never solved any problems.” Ethan replied. “So what’s your deal?”

“Thought you said you weren’t going to ask.” She said, her voice slightly raised.

“I said I wouldn’t ask what’s wrong.” He replied with a short laugh.

“It’s the same question.” She said looking at him as if he were scum, “Why don’t you just save time and probe my mind. That’s what all you STUPID Betazoids do. That’s all your good for!” she stood up sharply throwing the table to one side. The empty bottles smashed on the floor. “Or you could just leave me alone.” She shouted grabbing Suder by his collar, “Did you get that? LEAVE ME ALONE.” She threw him back down on his chair and stormed out of Ten Forward.

TBC

RISA BACKPOST

“Drinking Mixed Emotions Part 3 of 3”

by
Lieutenant (jg) Dhanishta Eshe &
Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder

Ethan stood up and grabbed the table, putting back to its normal position. On his way out, he gave a nod to the bar tender and apologised for the mess. He raced as fast as he could in his half drunken state down the corridor to catch up with Dhanishta. He didn’t appreciate being grabbed like that, status and reputation had nothing to do with it. She had some problems and needed help or something. He saw her storming down the corridor and caught up with her. Grabbing her arm, he stopped her and turned her around. “Did I imagine that back there, or did that actually happen?”

“You figure it out.” She retorted pushing him away.

Ethan responded by pushing her back against the wall. He was being as gentle as possible. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to vent some steam. You’re not going to talk, so come on then!” he snapped.

Dhanishta didn’t even hesitate she clenched her fist and smacked him right in the face.

Ethan stumbled back and blinked hard several times to make sure what happened had. “That’s fun…” he commented. “You would have thought you’d learnt how to punch by Klingons.”

“If I had hit you the way I was taught you would be dead.” She retorted. “Fancy that?”

“Would be a nice change from this hell.” He said standing up straight.

“Your wish is my command.” She said. She kicked him in his ribs, winding him, and then threw him into a wall console. Hauling him up to his feet she went to punch him again.

Ethan felt a sharp pain shoot through his forehead and saw her on her way for another punch. He rolled out of the way and heard something break as he rolled on to the floor.

Dhainshtas face scrunched up as her fist went through the consol, she heard something snap. She wasn’t sure weather it was her hand or something inside the consol. She removed her fist from the wall and turned to face Suder.

Suder frowned as he felt some blood drip down his face. He got to his feet and smiled at her. “Sorry about that.”

She thought for a moment, this wasn’t getting her anywhere, apart from a reprimand. She had a bottle of Romulan Ale in her quarters……….somewhere. that should finish her off nicely. She shrugged her shoulders at Suder and walked straight past him, making sure her shoulder coiled with his.

Ethan stood against one of the walls and wiped his forehead.

As she turned the corner she felt light headed, her vision tunnelled before clouding over. She smacked her head on the wall as she fell into it and then again as she hit the deck.

Ethan strolled down the corridor. He wasn’t finished with his newest addition to Engineering yet. But as he turned the corner, he saw Dhanishta laying on the floor. She wasn’t moving. He dropped to one knee and gently picked her up. He carried her to the nearest turbolift and jumped inside. During the ride, he attempted to wake Dhanishta to no avail.

The tubolift came to a halt and he once again carried Dhanishta down the corridor. He reached her quarters and stepped further away from the door. Kicking out, the doors slid open after his boot hit the console by the door. He carried her inside and stood still. He looked around at the mess in her quarters. No wonder she had a few scratches. The place was a mess. Just about every object possible had been thrown out of place, against walls, against the floor. Several objects were broken, the glass table, ornaments. Clearly she was disturbed. Something had crawled under her uniform. There was a cargo crate nearby, probably held most of her stuff until it had been thrown. He tried the bedroom, but was just as destroyed. The bed was upturned, more objects had been thrown about. He sighed and left her quarters.

The doors slid open and Ethan stepped inside of his own quarters. He moved straight for the tidy bedroom and placed Dhanishta gently down. He covered her with a blanket and moved to the main room where he ordered a drink from the replicator. He still felt some blood dripping down his head and figured he’d sort it out in a minute.

Dhanishta groaned and rubbed her throbbing head. She felt something soft beneath her fingers, she had no idea where she was. Opening an eye she saw something red, a blanket, but it didn’t smell like hers. Her attention turned to her hand; it was bruised and swollen, it felt like it was broken. Slowly she rolled over and fell onto the floor, ~ I guess that was a bed then ~ she thought. Looking round she realised she was in a bedroom and it wasn’t hers. Getting to her feet she stumbled to the door. It slid open and she shut her eyes quickly as the light, though dim, blinded her. Stumbling forward slightly she moaned again, leaning in the doorway she lifted her foot and removed a piece of glass. “Ouch.” She mumbled as blood began to flow. She looked around some more before loosing her balance and falling yet again to the floor.

Ethan approached Dhanishta and rolled her over. He grabbed her arm and scanned it with a tricorder, then reached near by and grabbed several items from a first aid kit. “You awake?” he asked.

“U-hu.” Dhanishta grunted. She opened an eye and looked up at Suder.

He began fixing up her hand and occasionally glanced at her. “I’m afraid you’re probably not going to feel that good for the next few hours.” He admitted. He wiped his head again to stop the blood from dripping on Dhanishtas robes.

She grunted again and pulled her hand away from him. She sat up slowly, “What are you talking about, I feel great.” She joked. Using the wall behind her she stood up, wavering slightly. “See, I’m just fine.”

Ethan frowned and pushed her back where she fell into the chair behind her. He grabbed her arm more seriously this time. “Drunk or not, you strike me as the kind who doesn’t like being attended to, but I’m not putting up with any crap. You have a broken hand and I’m going to fix it!”

She pulled her hand away again and pushed him back. She stood up again and made her way to a door.

Ethan grabbed her and threw her back into the chair. “Stay!” he ordered her. He grabbed another tool from the medial kit and approached her again.

Her head began to swim from the force Suder had used to throw her into the chair. The floor tipped like she were at sea, none the less she stood up again and headed for the other door. By power of deduction in her drunken state she noted each door. The one she headed to before was the way out, judging from Suders reaction, the one she had just come from was the bedroom, Suders bedroom she would make a mental note of that and go back to it later, and this one she hoped to be the bathroom. She could feel the bile rising from her stomach.

Suder watched as she made her way to the bathroom. Allowing her some privacy, he grabbed the drink he had ordered earlier from the replicator and slowly began downing it. He hated coffee! He placed the empty glass back into the replicator and frowned as he heard Dhanishta throwing up in the bathroom. He sighed and moved over to the door. It slid open. He stepped into the door way and looked at Dhanishta. “You ok?” he asked.

She nodded, it was too late for embarrassment, she looked up at him, “Water.” she gasped before turning back and throwing up again.

Ethan rushed over to the replicator and ordered a large jug of water and rushed back to the bathroom. This wasn’t the first time he’d housed a drunken being of some kind. He handed the jug to her and stepped back.

She downed as much as she could before throwing up again. And continued in that manner for a while; downing water and then throwing up.

And here I thought you’d be able to handle the drink, he thought. But then she had been drinking a little under an hour before he had arrived in Ten Forward. He went and collected more water for Dhanishta and then sat in a chair. He sighed and waited for Dhanishta to finish her business. The sound of her throwing up become less. She was either focusing on drinking water or her vomiting had come to a near finish.

She finally emerged from the bathroom, her hair was soaking and her face was pail and covered with water. She leaned in the door way and looked over at Suder.

“A phaser for your thoughts?” Suder asked.

She raised an eyebrow at him and shook her head as if she wanted to tell him what she was thinking, but then thought better of it. “I should get going.” She said, “I’ve wasted enough of your evening, morning… day.” She turned and then stopped, “I just want you to know that I don’t often do that.” She turned to face him again, “In fact, I’ve never done that. And your right. Drinking doesn’t solve anything. And thank you. I’ll see you later.” She gave a brief wave and turned back to the door.

Ethan gave her a nod and watched as she headed for the door. “Not like I have anything to do. My time with you tonight has been more productive than my average night.” He told her.

“I highly doubt that.” She said pausing in the open doorway.

“You don’t know me so how do you know?” he asked.

She turned to face him again letting the doors close behind her, “You really expect me to believe that watching me get drunk, fighting and listening to me throw up has been productive for you?”

“Usually I just sit here and stare out the window, so let me think, yeah this has been more productive. There’s been drinking, action, drama, more than my average day of boredom, regret, sorry, guilt and all the other crap that comes with it!” he almost snapped. As if I have to prove my point, he thought.

She rubbed her head with her hand and winced, ~ Yep, you dumb-ass, it’s still broken~ “You know what? That makes two of us.” She turned back to the door and mumbled on her way out, “You should get a cat!”

“I should get a life!” he snapped as the doors closed. He thought for a while about Dhanishta and what could have driven her to do what she had done tonight. Must have been intense. Family issues probably came high on the list. He couldn’t really think what else may have been bothering her. Not like she was opening up or anything. Yet he still had concern for her. He didn’t like someone, specially someone in his department with big problems like this. He would have to keep a close eye on her, he was worried.

~Maybe that too~ she thought as she walked back to her quarters. She walked in slicing her feet again on the broken glass. She thought about the necessity of shoes as she made her way through the bomb sight to her bedroom, ‘bull in a china shop’ didn’t really cover it. She flung herself down on her bed, not realising it wasn’t there until her head collided with the floor, she groaned again as she slipped into unconscious, of the none sleeping variety.

(OOC NOTE – special thanks to Martin. I kept him up all night for this. Thanks man, you’re the best. PS M – great title, thanks)

RISA BACKPOST

"Inner Struggle"

Lieutenant (jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer

Lieutenant (jg) Michael McDowell
Engineer

*** Main Engineering, 04:00 hours ***

Pacing Main Engineering, that was all Michael had done the last 15 minutes. He kept mumbling to himself, attracting attention from the other Engineers as they walked by. Of course, they knew all to well what kept him busy. And that was the same reason they stayed away from him. They'd never saw him in this mood.

It was Ensign Langly who approached Michael at last. "Sir...? I was wondering..."

"Yes! What is it now Richard!?" Michael answered annoyed.

"I..I'm sorry sir..." Richard stammered. "I didn't mean to bother you... It can wait." And before Michael could make an apology Richard was gone.

Michael sighed and shook his head. ~Great,...nice going Michael. You just took your frustration out on someone who had nothing to do with it!~

*** Meanwhile in Eshe's quarters ***

Salem stalked through Dhanis quarters. It had turned into an interesting play ground for him, jumping from upturned chairs to upturned tables he made his way towards his 'mother'. The black cat ran through the door quickly, he began to rub himself affectionately against her shoulder; he was hungry!

Dhanishta lay on the floor, surrounded by broken objects. She did not move through the cats persistent pawing and mewing.

*** Back in Main Engineering, 10 minutes later ***

~That's it! Geez, 40 minutes! What the hell is she thinking!~ Michael finally came to the point where he'd used up all his patience. Tapping his combadge he nearly shouted, "McDowell to Eshe! You're already 40 minutes late! Get yourself over here Lieutenant, now!"

Dhanishta came to, to the sound of her com badge beeping and someone shouting. Her hand moved in automatic response to answer it, yet nothing happened. She slapped her hand down again and yelped as pain shot through it. She realized that she was hitting the floor as she was lying face down. Reluctantly she rolled over, groaning as she landed on something sharp. She brushed it away with her hand and moaned as her awareness came back to her body. Everything hurt! Salem skittered away from her flying hand.

A second call came from Michael, more anxious this time. ["Lieutenant Eshe, report! ...Lieutenant!?"]

She slapped her combadge, yelping slightly at the pain in her hand, ~ Bumb ass ~ she thought, ~ Stop using it! ~

"Eshe here." she croaked out.

A sigh of relieve could be clearly heard at the other end of the line. However, it was immediately followed by a stern voice. ["Lieutenant, have you any idea what time it is!!? Wait, don't bother telling me,...I tell you. You're 40 minutes late!! If you're not down here in 3 minutes then I'll see to it personally that you'll be fine-tuning sonic showers for the next 6 months!"

Dhanishta groaned again which echoed through the com link, "Aye Sir."

After a while she rolled over and pushed herself on to all fours. Crawling through the mess in her bedroom she headed towards the door. After nudging it with her elbow it opened and she crawled through. She sat back in the doorway and stared at a pile of shoes. ~ I don't remember throwing my shoes around. I threw a lot of stuff around but not my shoes. ~ Looking up she saw a row of clothes, ~ This is not the main room. It's my closet! A good a place than any to start, I suppose. ~

Reaching up she cringed as a sharp pain shot through her chest. She retracted her arm and curled it round her abdomen as a pile of clothes fell on her. Sieving through the pile of clothes she found her uniform and began to pull it on. Looking down at her legs as she slipped on her trousers she wasn't sure where the bruises ended and her spots began.

Right that moment another call came through. ["Lieutenant...time may be eternal, but my patience certainly is not! I think I've been more than lenient here. Do I have to drag you here myself!?"]

Dhanishta cringed at the sound of his voice. She was in for it! Plain and simple.

"I'm sorry sir..." she croaked again feeling hot tears well up. She wasn't sure if that was because of the pain or the situation she was in. It was the first time she had ever been late and she sure as hell hadn't intended to do it.

"You don't have to drag me any where," though it would certainly be easier, she thought. "I will be with you soon."

She breathed in sharply as the fabric snagged on the gash on her thigh. Once fully dressed she pulled a pair of shoes on over her swollen cut feet. She then hobbled into her bathroom and washed her hands and face, howling as she rubbed soap into a huge cut on her forehead. Looking at it closely in the mirror she sighed as the surrounding area had formed a huge dark purple lump. After a few more pain filled minutes she covered the huge bruise with her hair and tied the rest up. She couldn't remember if Suder had fixed her broken hand the night before, but it sure felt like he hadn't.

Finally another half hour later Eshe hobbled into Main Engineering. The pain she felt seemed to have dulled into a numbness that encapsulated her entire body. She was extremely pail, black rings surrounded her eyes and a few scratches remained visible on her face from last nights antics.

Michael gave her a brief look, one so harsh and intense that the meaning of it was crystal clear. "CEO's office, right now, Lieutenant!"

Dhanishta followed him in to the office and waited to be told to 'sit down' she had a feeling that this was gonna take some time.

While Michael sat down he looked up to Dhanishta, making sure she could see his irritation. He didn't get it. Why was she doing this? Normally she was always on time, and Michael wouldn't even look twice if she would be a bit later then normal,...but more than an hour!? That was way too much and clearly could not be tolerated. Michael pointed to the seat in front of her, the meaning being obvious.

Dhanishta was quite thankful for the opportunity to sit down, just worried that she wouldn’t be able to get back up again. Hesitantly she sat down.

For a long moment it was quiet. Michael used the time to figure out how to start. "I doubt that lecturing you on protocol is going to get me anywhere...because you know the rules as well as I do. So, lets just say it as is. You screwed up."

Shifting slightly Dhani tried to get more comfortable, but it was no use. No matter how she sat it wasn’t going to take away any of the pain that rippled through her body. She looked at Michael as he spoke to her.

She wasn’t quite sure what to say to him, or where to start. ~ I’ve had a really rough day Sir, ~ she thought; ~No that won’t do, how about, Sorry Sir, I went to Ten Forward earlier and got really drunk with Suder, erm…. No. ~ She noticed the pips on his collar and realised for the first time that she was the same rank as him, ~Oh, Rank. I could bring that up! Err, defiantly no. How about; Please Michael I’m asking you as a friend? But we barley know each other, even though I feel like I’ve known him for years and then some. How about the truth? ~ a little voice inside her head said, ~Oh yer, ~ Dhani replied to it scathingly, ~ McDowell, I’m late because I trashed my quarters, went to Ten Forward got drunk, had a fight with Suder and then proceeded to throw u…….. Hang on! I had a FIGHT with SUDER? ~ she questioned her self trying to recall the details of the evening, ~ The Chief? ~ A vague memory of upturning a table returned to her, and then another of decking her CEO and smashing her fist through a wall consol ~ Auw, crap!!! ~ ~Well, I now know where that came from. ~ She thought looking down at her multi coloured hand.

She knew he was waiting for an answer, perhaps even an excuse but she still didn’t know what to tell him. Feeling something trickle down the side of her face underneath her strategically positioned hair she suddenly became very aware that the bruise on her forehead was bleeding. Her hair had seemed to soak up most of the blood and was now stuck to her head. ~Great!~ she thought, ~just great!~ She pinched the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger and rested her elbow on the arm of the chair sighing. ~I see now why Vulcans don’t give in to their emotions. One night… Day, of letting them reign and look at me, I’m a wreck.~

A scorched sandy plain from Vulcan floated through her mind, the image was somewhat comforting. Sarks face emerged through the dust and she smiled slightly at him. Then she remembered her earlier conversation with him. Her spots began to prickle as she felt a hot sweat break out across her body. Her hand glittered in the light with the sweat. Her armpits itched and she could feel that same rage stirring within. ~I gotta get out of here~ she thought. ~If I went ballistic at Suder then the gods only know what I’ll do to McDowell. And I’m in enough trouble as it is.~ She stood up painfully, not making any eye contact with McDowell, scared that if she did she might be attending his funeral… or hers… probably a court martial!

“I understand, Sir.” She said unclenching her teeth and making her way towards the door.

A frown appeared on Michael's face as watched while Dhanishta stood up. For the last few minutes he'd been able to look at her more closely. There was something not right here. Were that bruises he saw? A small stream of blood on her forehead? "Lieutenant, is everything alright?" Michael asked worried, not even thinking about the fact that she'd walked away just like that. When Dhanishta didn't answer he turned to the more personal approach. "Wait a moment Dhanishta... What has really happened?"

Dhanishta didn’t hear McDowell, only the voice inside her head; ~ You know, you could kill him! Better yet you could make him forget this entire conversation, meddle deep inside his mind; make him think twice before messing with you. ~ Deep frown lines crossed Dhanishtas fore head. ~ Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Hell you could float him right out of his chair, throw him against the wall, without even laying a finger on him!! ~

“SHUT UP!” Dhanishta shouted punching the wall. The door opened and she left the office.

She walked quickly through Engineering, grabbing a data pad she transposed data from the jobs list on to it, snatched up her tool box and left before McDowell had time to pick his jaw up from the floor.

Michael did a few quick steps out of the office with the intention of running after Dhanishta, but stopped when he saw she had already left. Her sudden outrage left him speechless. He was perplexed with what just happened. ~What's wrong with her!? Whatever it is, it's not good.~

A second later Michael briefly looked at Lieutenant (jg) John F. Byers "John, take over will you? I've got to sort this out."

Michael exited Main Engineering and look around to see if Dhanishta was still near Engineering. No so luck. "Computer, location of Lieutenant Eshe?"

["Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe is on Deck 11, section 5".]

~The malfunctioning Replicator?~ Michael wondered and slightly raised his left eyebrow. He didn't think about it for long and made a run towards the nearest turbolift.

* Deck 11, section 5 *

Five minutes later Dhanishta was standing in front of the replicator. It didn’t register that she had fixed it several times this week. In fact nothing registered! She stood for near 10 minutes just staring at the mess of wires, isolineors chips and flashing lights; drawing a total blank. Looking down she saw her tricorder in her hand; prepped and ready to go, but the readouts from that made as much sense as a phase coupler would to a Doctor! Tapping her com badge she said; “Eshe to Engineering.”

The reply came through from Byers; “Engineering here, go ahead Lieutenant.”

“I need a little help down here. Can you send someone down?” She asked feeling stupid, after all it was only a replicator. A first year cadet could fix it.

“Lieutenant McDowell is on his way. He should be with you now.”

Dhanishta continued to stare at the inertia of the replicator.

The infamous replicator Dhanishta had been working on for the last week was located in a now unoccupied crew quarters. Michael had been there several times himself with her to try and isolate the problem, to no avail. To him the Quick virus was the number one suspect, that freaking, ghostly,...something that still haunted the ship.

The doors opened with the familiar hiss. It was kind of odd to see Dhanishta standing in front of the replicator doing nothing else but staring. "Dhani?" Michael almost whispered her name. "I know something is wrong with you, and maybe it's difficult for you to talk about it,...but only you can make me understand."

Nothing. It was like talking to a concrete wall. "You have to talk about it Dhani,...if not with me then with a Counsellor."

A wave of nausea came over Dhanishta and she swayed slightly. Leaning against the wall she tried to regain her balance as the rest of the room began to spin before her. Her vision began to fade in and out like pins and needles. She couldn’t hear McDowell anymore, the humming of the ship or the tricorder beeping. Everything seemed to slow down as her knees buckled and she slid to the floor, snagging her hair on the wall. Pinching the bridge of her nose she propped her elbow on her raised knee and rested her head. Stretching her other leg out before her she tried to take a deep breath and almost cried out with the pain it caused.

"Dhanishta!" Michael leapt forward to break her fall. He got hold of her just before she hit the small round wooden table near the replicator. Supporting her head with one hand, he brushed away her hair that covered most of her face. Now he had a clear view on the injuries she'd suffered to her head. As if Michael knew where to look for he looked at both Dhanishta's hands. Her left hand was fine, but the other was in a bad shape.

"Geez, Dhani, what has happened? Who did this!?" Michael called out. The sight shocked him. It hurt him to see one of his own team members in this condition.

"McDowell to Sickbay. I need help here right now!" The call to Sickbay came naturally and only moments after realized in what shape Dhanishta was. He looked her straight in the eyes. "Don't worry, you'll be alright. Just hold on."

It felt like someone was stabbing her over and over, though she was more concerned with the familiarity of that feeling than the pain at that moment. An image floated before her; it was a man with sharp features and a goatee. She knew this man, somehow, and all she felt for him was hatred. She felt violently sick but she had to run. All of her being, her instincts, told her to RUN!

Pushing the man before her away she scrabbled to her feet. She felt something snap and coiled over hugging her chest as wave after wave of pain rolled through her like a sea, gasping she crumpled on the floor, coughing up blood. The dull ach in her head turned to a throbbing like someone playing the bongo drums. She howled pain shutting her eyes tightly. Tears of pain rolled down her face as she pummelled and clawed at the floor.

As her perception shifted she became aware of her surroundings; birds were singing, grass tickled her fingers, opening her eyes she saw blue sky’s through long thin branches which stroked her bare feet, heard water flowing and trees rustling. Dhanishta was stunned even a little afraid but the feeling passed quickly, replaced by the knowledge; ~ I died here! ~

The words rung over in her head, the meaning sinking in.

~ When did I die? Am I already dead? Am I going to die in this place? Where is this place? ~

Her thoughts were suddenly calmed, her questions though not answered ceased. The Galaxy and all that had happened a distant memory. A rush of peacefulness washed over her as she felt connected to everything. The universe seemed so much smaller. Love and warmth overwhelmed her and she felt truly happy. She could go anywhere, do anything. She was in everything. Nothing else mattered, Dhani was home….

Michael knew it the instant he felt Dhani's body slump down. His heart skipped a beat. The next instant anxiety took hold of him which turned into panic. "No, No! Don't do this to me Dhani!! Don't you do this to me!" Michael shouted. The next instant he hit his combadge. "McDowell to Sickbay. Medical emergency! Beam us straight to Sickbay, now!!"

"Change of Pace"

Right-after-we-left-Risa Backpost

Lieutenant (JG) Corran Rex,
Vanguard Squadron CO / Vanguard Marine Division CO
(Unauthorized use of Lieutenant Geluf - though I don't think Brandon will mind)

---------------------------------------------

TO: LTJG Rex, Corran, Assistant Operations Manager, USS Galaxy NCC-70637-A FROM: LT Geluf, Curtis, Operation Manager, USS Galaxy NCC-70637-A CC: CAPT M'Kantu, Daren R., Commanding Officer, USS Galaxy NCC-70637-A

Lieutenant Rex, it's my pleasure to inform you that your request for transfer has been approved. Effective immediately, you a transferred to command of Vanguard Squadron, on attached duty to USS Galaxy NCC-70637-A. You will serve as commanding officer for this squadron, as well as commanding officer for Vanguard Division, the marine complement aboard this starship. Your request has been grounded, and pilots from both Starfleet and the Starfleet Marine Corps may be accepted into your Squadron. Vanguard Division will remain a Marine-only unit, until further notice. Your new office is located on Deck 16, Section 43A, Room 16-016. 12 new Banzai-Class starfighters were transferred aboard at Starbase 212, and are housed in the main shuttlebay.

Congratulations, Lieutenant. See you around the ship, Lieutenant Curtis Geluf, Operations Manager

---------------------------------------------

"Hunh." Corran said aloud after reading the message on his terminal that morning, in a flat even tone suggesting... not surprise exactly, but more of an 'oh, okay then. I can't believe they actually decided it was a good idea' sort of tone. Mind awhirl with these new circumstances, he started thinking things over as he walked to the replicator.

~First thing to do,~ Corran thought, ~is to get myself recertified in the flight simulators. Then I'll have to start evaluating pilots, and start looking for replacements from the people who just transferred off ship.~ Thoughts of this nature continued as he ordered a red undertunic from the replicator to replace his now out-of-uniform gold shirt.

~The Marines are going to just LOVE the fact that their Division's been placed under the command of a Fleet officer.I can probably expect some problems there. What's his name - Valhoun. He's supposed to be a pretty solid guy, I'll have to see about getting his help with that.~

Then, of course, one of the many ever-present voices in the Trill's mind decided it was a good time to make itself known. ~You've got to be joking.~ came the familiar, sarcasm-laden thoughts of Vorrin, his last host.

~I was wondering when you were going to speak up~ Corran mentally observed as he finished zipping up his outer shirt and headed out of his quarters.

~I've been too shocked to say anything.~ came the old smuggler's reply. ~Starfleet must be much worse off than I thought, to put a looney like you in charge of anything, let alone a fighter squadron and a bunch of Marines.~

~If I'm crazy,~ Corran decided, ~It's because I hear certain voices way too often. Now shut the hell up, Vorrin.~

~Whatever, kid. Whatever.~

"Deck Sixteen." Corran ordered aloud as the turbolift doors swished shut.

-----------------------------------------------

Lieutenant' Corran Rex entered the Deck 16 Marine Assembly Room not without a certain degree of nervousness. Preparing to address a division of sixty Marines consisting of three platoons of twenty, and an additional dozen starfighter pilots, could do that to a man. Though, he noted, looking at the manifest PADD in his hand once more, there were at present only six pilots in the squadron, seven counting himself. He'd have to find five qualified pilots from the Galaxy's own crew, or be at below-strength until replacements could be found.

"Officer on Deck!" came the shout as he entered, and everyone stopped what they were doing, be it PT, weapons maintenance, or any of a variety of other tasks, and snapped to attention with a salute. Word had apparently filtered down already about the change in command. ~This brand of formality is definitely going to take getting used to ~ Corran thought as he tossed off a quick salute - which he'd hoped he'd done right - and replied with an "As you were." He case a firm eye around the room, until he found his target, one Sergeant Brian Merryman, the Division Yeoman.

"Yeoman, with me." the Lieutenant instructed, motioning towards the door Curtis' message had indicated was his office. once he entered, he found a spartan space, as would befit a Marine commander. There were no personal effects, the previous CO had taken them all with him, obviously.

Sitting down in the desk, Corran looked to Sergeant Merryman, and motioned for the Marine to take a seat.

"I'd prefer to stand, sir." Merryman replied from an at-ease position.

"Of course you would." the former OPs officer replied. "I'll get to the point, Sergeant. I want everyone out there ready for inspection in ten minutes. Every one of them should have what they need in their lockers. If they don't, then they had best move quickly. Make it happen."

"Aye sir." the Sergeant replied, and at Rex's nod, moved quickly to depart.

~This is going to be interesting.~ Corran thought, watching the Sergeant go. He set his chrono's timer for ten minutes, and then began what was sure to be an arduous process of personnel reviews.

-------------

Ten minutes later, Corran re-entered the Assembly Room to find seventy-two men, women and nongendered and transgendered sentients standing in neat little rows, all at attention. Alpha Squad, Beta Squad, and Charlie Squad were grouped together, as well as the pilots and support personnel of Vanguard Squadron. He noted First Lieutenant Valhoun standing in front of Alpha Squad, as well as First Lieutenant Meyers standing in front of Beta Squad, and Second Lieutenant vh'Shanti with Charlie. ~Not bad~ he thought. ~Not bad at all.~

~Yeah, just wait till one of them decides to knock you on your ass.~

~Shut up, Vorrin.~

Rex nodded to Gunnery Sergeant K'mor, a Klingon transfer from the Klingon Defense Force, and the highest ranking enlisted man in the Galaxy's Marine Division. "PARADE.....REST!" the burly Klingon's voice boomed across the Assembly Hall, and the Trill proceeded to get his first look at his new assignment. After forty minutes, he'd personally inspected every soldier present. At least twelve would be transferred to another ship as soon as possible, and there was another two dozen he was going to keep an eye on.

"Allright, folks." Corran started, addressing the division. "My name is Lieutenant' Corran Rex. I am the new Commanding Officer for Vanguard Squadron and Vanguard Division. I know a great many of you are no doubt chafing under serving directly under a Fleet officer. Well, frankly, get over it. Before you start getting all high and might, it'd do you well to know that I am a joined Trill, and my symbiont is 506 standard years old, so I've got a good four and three-quarters centuries on most of you. If this is unacceptably, leave your request for transfer with Yeoman Merryman. I'll consider it. I might tell you to shut the hell up and go back to work, but I'll consider it."

A few of the Marines chuckled, and Corran allowed himself a smile. "Now, I'm not a hardass, folks, but I do demand your best of you. If you can't provide that, then you'll be finding yourself another assignment very quickly. My final bit of business is this: Vanguard Squadron is five pilots light. All personnel are to begin testing on the simulators for Bonzai-Class Starfighters. If you're qualified, submit your applications to me by the end of tomorrow, along with your first-run simulator score. Dismissed" the Trill finished, and watched as the Marines began to disperse.

~Definitely going to be interesting.~ he thought again, and headed to his new office.

"Cover"

Lieutenant (JG) Corran Rex,
Vanguard Squadron CO / Vanguard Marine Division CO

Continuity note: Starts immediately after "Hell to Pay"

Unauthorized use of tr'Khellian.

---------------------------------------------

After the ship had stopped shaking, Corran had been on his feet in seconds. Luckily, he'd not been injured. ~Who in the nine hells could be attacking us?~ he wondered vehemently. ~This is a First Contact mission in uncontested space, for crying out loud!~

~Gee, kid, let's see... Borg, Dominion, T'Kith'Kin, Remans, renegade Romulans or Klingons, Orion pirates, Lyrans, Tholians, Ferengi who feel like they got shafted on a business deal.... there's plenty of people who don't care too much for Starfleet.~ came the, as ever, sarcastic observations of Vorrin.

~Thanks, old man. Thanks worlds. Now shut up.~ he thought before tapping his commbadge. "Rex to Vanguard Squadron. All pilots to your stations. Begin preflights as soon as your in your ship, be ready to launch on my order."

There were no replies, but then, there didn't need to be. Corran had to admit, if only to himself (and the ten previous hosts he shared his head with) that he was nervous. He was still four pilots light for Vanguard Squadron, not having had the time to complete simulator reviews. They were untested in combat as a team, and still learning how to work together even in the simulators. It was not an auspicious beginning.

Within minutes, Corran was garbed in his flightsuit and running out on the shuttledeck. A tech flagged him down, and after another wasted minute of arguing over which fighters were and weren't fully prepared, the Trill climbed up into his cockpit and pulled the canopy down until he heard the vacuum-seal hiss. "Vanguard One to Vanguard Squadron. Read off when ready for launch."

["Vanguard Two, green and lit."]

["Vanguard Seven, ready."]

["Vanguard Four, all clear."]

He was in the middle of his mental checklist when the comm came from the bridge. ["Bridge to Lieutenant Rex."] came a voice that was at first unfamiliar, until Corran placed it as tr'Khellian, the new Romulan transfer officer, and assistant chief of Tactical. ~If he's on the line, the Cassius must be injured... or dead.~ Corran realized, and hoped for the best for Galaxy's Chief Tactical Officer.

"Rex here." the Trill replied, gloved hand tapping the comm on his fighter's control panel.

["Prepare to deploy your fighters, Lieutenant. Galaxy is at... less that peak condition. You are required to screen us from whatever may be out there. I... recommend a spherical defensive screen with your sensors at maximum until we more."]

Corran noted on his board that all eight pilots of Vanguard Squadron had checked off ready, and then he replied to the Romulan. Not before he mentally noted that tr'Khellian's use of the word "recommend" had come out rather like someone spitting glass, of course. "Acknowledged, Tactical." Rex replied. "Ahead of you. Vanguard Squadron is ready to launch on your order. What hit us, sub-Commander?"

["We do not know. There was an explosion on the planet at the beam-down site. The away team, and everything else on the planet is dead. I will keep you apprised. You have permission to launch."] came the Romulan's voice, then the click as the channel closed.

Shaking his head, Corran tapped the channel for all ships in his squadron. "Vanguards, we have permission to launch." he reported as the massive doors of the Main Shuttlebay began to open into space. "Once we're out there, orders are for a hemispherical defense field, scanners on full. We don't know what hit us, or if it's gonna do it again, but we're Galaxy's first line of defense. We need to give those folks in Engineering time for this bird to be able to defend herself. Break by wing pairs after launch, and keep an eye one each other. Vanguard One out." he finished, easing his own fighter out of the bay first. Vanguard Two - Second Lieutenant Kell Tainer, the least experience pilot in the squadron - came up on his flank.

Rex noted as all fighters moved into position, and then he took a look at the devastated planet below. ~By the Caves!~ came the mental exclamation. ~Someone's going to have to pay for this.~

---------------

They had been sitting out here, in cramped cockpits, for literally hours now. Corran had an itch in the middle of his back that he couldn't quite reach, and that was simply driving him even more nuts. Other than the slowly-repairing Galaxy, and the devastated world of Quintin, there wasn't a damned thing here.

Corran sighed in frustration.

["There's not a damned thing out here."] came someone's voice over the comm channel.

"Can the chatter, Vanguard Five." Corran replied by reflex. For a moment he smiled, thinking of his first assignment out of the Academy - a posting to Rogue Squadron aboard the USS Miranda. Then, he'd been the young man on the other end of that - being told to can the chatter by his CO. Some things never really changed.

------------------------------

After another hour, Corran got back on the horn with the Galaxy, and secured permission to send his pilots in for two-hour rest periods, rotating through. Six fighters would be out at all times, with two resting in the nearby pilot's lounge, ready to redeploy as soon as possible. He and his pilots weren't going to do anyone a damn bit of good if they were exhausted. "Vanguard Seven, Vanguard Eight. Pack it in. Two our R&R, stay in the pilot's lounge." came the Trill's reply.

["Acknowledged, Lead"] came the reply of Vanguard Seven, the senior pilot of that wing pair.

That done, Corran turned his attention back to the ever-so-fascinating nothing that was out there.

OOC: A couple of notes. I'm referencing a fight that took place 'off camera' between Cassius and Rima, when Savar came onboard. Rima Pennington used to be played by a friend of mine, Maggie Harrington, and I'm essentially keeping the character warm, just not warm and fuzzy, which would never describe Rima.

"The Hardest Part"

Lieutenant Commander Cassius Henderson, Chief Tactical Officer
Ensign Rima Pennington, Tactical Officer

-Sickbay, Recovery Ward, USS Galaxy-

Cassius Henderson rolled over and rubbed the night-sand out of his eyes. Waking up was the hardest part of being injured. Waking up and knowing that whatever you had to deal with on the other end wasn't going ot be pretty. It wasn't going to be just routine, and it wasn't going to be just another day of putting up with Rima and filing out reports. Oh no, it was going to be much, much worse.

Looking around, he recognized the sterile, slate grey walls of sickbay. Here he was safe from whatever demons were currently tormenting the crew of the USS Galaxy. It was a comforting feeling, one that made you want to stay for longer than you should, simply because then you wouldn't have to go out there, and face the world for another day. Motivation was maybe the hardest part of waking up.

"Feeling any better?" a familiar voice, one that had troubled him a lot lately, brought his attention to a space next to his bed. A whip thin young woman, who actually looked like she had gone to some trouble to clean up, rather than her norm, just pulling on a uniform, stood before him.

"Yeah," he forced himself to reply, though for all the universe, he just wanted to lie there and be hurt. Motivation and duty was a bitch sometime. "I think I'm okay now. How are you doing with... ah... things?"

"Oh. Well, I guess Savar's alright. I haven't killed him. Or the counselors. I'm sorry I hit you," Rima Pennington said, guiltily. She hated feeling guilty, which was probably why she hated dealing with Cassius Henderson. For some strange, inexplicable reason, he actually made he feel guilty when she acted like she didn't care. Usually she could get away with that. Not with him. Damn.

"I told you he would be," Henderson replied, noticing her wince. Typical Rima. He moved to a sitting position and reached for his shirt and jacket, which he noted had been left by an attendant on the chair next to his bed. "It's only for a little while. And even if it isn't, I'm sure you'll get by. You're a lot more resilient than you like to make people think you are. Have I been cleared to leave yet?"

"As soon as you're awake. Are you awake?" she asked, helping him with his jacket. He was stiff, she noticed, especially in the left side, where the exploding console in the office had caught him. What was it in Starfleet consoles that made them overload so often. You'd think they'd fix that sooner than later, considering how often it happened.

"I think I am," he replied half-heartedly, allowing her to help him up. It was strange. She'd decked him not a week ago, when he'd broken the news that she'd be stepping down as Assistant Chief Tactical. And now it was as if it had never happened. This injury must be really guilting her. Typical Rima. "How's the department?"

"Okay," she lied, looping his arm over her shoulder. Christ, he was heavy. ~Of course, you haven't exactly been following his 'work out twice a week' order to the letter, now have you, Rima?~ "Mirapoints lost a leg. He'll be out for a while. But Chief... ah... damn. I should know this..."

"No, it's not your job to know that. Probably Petty Officer Wang. It's my job to know that, and that's the point, Rima," he said, as they left sickbay, pausing to check out with the doctor on duty. "You're a good assistant, but right now, you need to get your life in order so you can concentrate. Stop being so apathetic and angry about everything. A little sarcasm, sure, but not what I normally get from you. And Rima..."

"Yeah," she said as they reached the turbolift to head for the office.

"Just because there's a new captain and a new assistant, doesn't mean that my interest in you as an individual or you as an officer has ended. Savar can take care of himself. He's had years in the Romulan Empire to prepare him for that. You haven't," Henderson said, "So just because you're not my assistant anymore doesn't mean we have to stop working."

Rima remained silent for the rest of the ride to the Tactical Offices, which had been repaired by now, for the most part thanks to Lieutenant' Remur and her computer specialists. With engineering swamped, most of tactical's repairs went to them. She tried to think about things like that, and not about what Cassius had said. There would be plenty of time for self abuse later. For now, she needed to keep her head straight. No doubt Cass would want her to go do something.

As they reached the office, Henderson nodded to the officer on duty, Ensign Thorne, and headed into his office, stepping over one of the computer specialist's tray of tools. The specialist in question was buried under a short circuited console, and the whole place was basically a disaster.

Sitting down, he offered Rima the chair next to him behind his desk. "You want to help, sit down and help me with these reports. In fact, I need to make that an order, or I'm never going to get unburied. And send Savar a message and tell him that the three of us need to meet ASAP to discuss the current state of tactical affairs onboard and to bring me up to date as much as possible. I know you've tried, but Savar's been to briefings that you haven't been privy to. Oh, and Rima..."

Rima glared at him, "Yes, Cass."

"Thank you," He said, as she took the seat and picked up the first PADD, "For everything. And send that message." She frowned at him, then did it. Cassius Henderson was back, and it looked like he still intended to change her if it killed him. Pity. It just might.... She wished.

“Rescue on Deck 6”

By Lieutenant Commander James Lionel Corgan
Chief of Security, USS Galaxy

Location: Security (after the shockwave)

The shockwave had nowhere to go, except up.

Coincidentally, that was where the Galaxy was cruising. The Galaxy class starship was in low orbit when the wave of fire hit, and a leviathan like the Galaxy was a ponderously slow beast to move when surprised.

The wave crashed, quite literally, into the starship. Unshielded, the Galaxy had no choice but to ride out the wave.

Before it hit, the ship rattled and shook, its duranium hull plates groaning due to the stress. Kinetic force moved the ship, then the energy of the shockwave washed over. James saw his porthole being enveloped by flames.

“GET DOWN!” James screamed as loud as he could, rolling into a corner as the rattling became unbearable.

The first slam threw T’lan and Marsh off the floor, and flung O’Rourke into the wall. It felt as if the ship pitched over without gravity control. Corgan felt his feet give way as he flew from the floor to the roof, then back again. The ground greeting him hard, jarring his joints and driving all air out of his body. He dimly saw the other officers scrambling for cover, fighting uncontrollable gravity. Everyone and everything was in disarray.

And so was the ship, disgorging broken pieces of itself from the roof as gravity finally restored itself. One of those pieces, James saw from the corner of his eye, looked very heavy, and was heading towards his….

*THWHACK!*

*********

James slowly woke up in a groggy haze. His head felt sore, a square sore on the side of his head buzzing and scattering his dreamy thoughts. He felt the rivulet of sticky blood running from his forehead to his cheek as the sharp sting of something cold and metal was next to the wound. Everything was dark. James could barely see past the length of his arm, if there was anything there to see. With weight pressing down on his chest and legs, he suspected that he was pinned and covered.

Metal scraped as James felt something move off his chest. Everything else became much easier to use. To the objection of his own muscles, he pushed himself upwards. Light began to come back into his eyes, burning at first, then dimming until he could see the familiar sights.

T’lan and E’xch tossed aside a seemingly heavy duranium bulwark as James gripped a flap of paneling and flung it off his chest. As his sight restored, he saw Marsh and O’Rourke help him up to his feet. The lights were dimmed and flickering; a telltale sign of significant damage to the power grid of that section. Part of his sight was blurred, and when he blinked, it didn’t go away. Experimentally, James blinked with one eye. The sight was a complete and almost unrecognizable blur. He tried the other eye, and his sight was perfect.

He felt his face for his glasses. They were still there, the lenses broke and cracked like a spiderweb, the left frame hanging limply off his ear. He removed the spectacles in disgust. He would have to replace the pair.

“How long was I out?” James asked.

O’Rourke answered, “A couple of minutes under that mess, sir. Didn’t know you were unconscious.”

“Not sure if I was, Lieutenant.” James rubbed his head. The blood stuck to his fingers, “I think I’m ok. Got a nasty hit on the head.”

T’lan quickly looked over the Chief of Security, saying, “It appears that you have not suffered any head related injuries, sir.”

”Thanks.” James glumly grumbled, “That’s a relief.”

He walked for the door, his feet gingerly navigating the loosened deckplates and debris. He pushed the door apart, walking out and avoiding the sparking panel adjacent to him.

=/\=”M’Kantu to Corgan.”=/\= His comm.-badge crackled, a persistant drone that didn’t want to quit, =/\=”M’Kantu to Corgan.”=/\=

Groaning, James answered his badge. “Corgan here.”

=/\=”You are needed in the ready room. Get here as soon as possible. M’Kantu out.”=/\= The Captain buzzed. His badge chirruped out of existence.

The chief of security sighed. ~”Hell of a time to hold a meeting. There’s got to be a million things I have to do right now. Damaged areas everywhere, and there has to be some injured. I can’t afford to go to a meeting now!”~

”Sh*t.” He spat under his breath.

His subordinates easily overheard. “Sir?” T’lan was the first to react, her Vulcan hearing keener than most.

James turned to his officers, “I have to go. O’Rourke, you’re in charge for the time being. Send out security teams and search for anyone trapped or injured. Co-ordinate with medical on search and rescue efforts. And for god sakes, don’t be afraid to use the Marines… they’ll have to be good for something other than getting fragged. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to a staff meeting. Make sure everything runs well while I’m out. Caio!”

The chief of security stumbled away, disappearing into a turbolift. Closing the door behind him while giving O’Rourke a confident thumbs up, the beleaguered human woman watched helplessly as her chief disappeared.

”Sir! Wait!” O’Rourke ran after the lift. It closed on her, too late for the security officer to stop her chief from leaving. “Wait! Sir!” She sank to her knees, feeling very helpless. “Dammit… what the hell do I do now?”

*********

In the privacy of the turbolift, James was able to collect his thoughts.

~”Jesus f**king Christ on a f**king pogo stick!”~ He held his head in his hands, the confusion of emotions tangling worse than Christmas lights, ~”I just saw that planet blow up. Lit like a goddamn photon torp on auto detonate. Millions of people dead in a flash! Burned up! Just… burned away! And it was so goddamn easy to watch! And what do I do? I worry about people on this ship getting bumps and bruises? There’s a whole f**king civilization out there torched to cinders and I care about one stupid starship? What the f**k is wrong with me? Hasn’t that needs of the many crap taught me anything yet?!?!”~

His eyes were wide in a panic. ~”Am I that petty minded? I don’t know how I can care enough for this planet, which a few minutes ago I was bored looking at! I don’t care enough! How heartless of me! Millions dead and I’m not worried enough to drop everything and go down to the surface already. I have the ship and my people, my friends. Less in the grand scheme of things, and I’m caring about that? What the hell is wrong with me?”~

”If you’re going to worry about everything, you’ll eventually develop an ulcer.”

James snapped himself out of his train of thought, agitated by the new voice. Beside him, a semi-cocky person emerged, whom wasn’t there before yet had no way of getting into a speeding turbolift. It was a she, a pretty blonde dressed as a Starfleet security officer, bearing the pips of a Lieutenant Commander. Her scar was on the right side, and it was faded until it was an almost invisible pink mark. She wore squared glasses with thin brass frames, the same style Corgan wore to compensate for vision lost in his left eye. She was beautiful, but mocking.

“Oh, hi Reason.” James greeted his imaginary alter-ego, “Figures you would show up.”

”Of course I would!” Reason shrugged, “I hear any more of your philosophical ranting without any resolution, I might just want to end it myself. Which I think I will.”

James shrugged back, doubtful. “Whatever, Reason. I’m stuck between feeling guilty about those people on Quintin and my responsibilities out here. If I cared about others, I would go down to the planet and check for survivors. But if I do, I’ll be neglecting my duties here. And you know what? I can live with ignoring Quintin, never mind the fact that the fate of an entire planet is more important than one ship.”

“About time you were honest about yourself.”

He gasped in surprise. “Huh?”

“Face it, you’re not a monster. People can’t understand it sometimes, but I’m glad you do. I think you know it, but I’ll spell it out since you can’t bring yourself to admit it.”

”And what’s that?”

”You can’t admit… that you can only care about so many people at once before you lose the ability to care at all.”

”What do you mean by that?”

”James, you were about to be froze by indecision.” Reason patted James on the shoulder, “Go and save whatever people are left on Quintin, a monumental task you cannot do alone, and being that there might not be survivors, or save your crewmates, whom if you don’t you’ll be frown upon as a deserter and a chickensh*t. You had so many obligations based on your morality… and it sort of overloaded you. Almost to the point where you just about thought ‘f**k ‘em all, save neither since I can’t save them all’. Now, what would that have accomplished?”

He thought about this for a moment, “Absolutely nothing?”

”Absolutely nothing.” Reason paced, very proud of herself, her finger waving, her hair bouncing with each step, “There you go. Remember what the late Maria Ramirez Corgan told you? About the starfish?”

The memory was easy to recall. Advice from James late departed mother always seemed to have to do about religion (she was part Filipino American, and a devout Catholic). The starfish was one of her favourite religion inspired lessons on life. “Yeah? Some I might have tuned out because she tended to drone on, but continue.”

”Alright… I’ll fill in the gaps. Unconscious memory remembers stuff better than a bored teenager anyways.” Reason huffed, impatient, “Anyways. Guy walks on a beach, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“He’s walking with another guy, and they are just talking. Both men see a starfish, and it has washed up on the shore. They look around, and there are many starfish washed up on the shore behind them, but they are going the opposite direction. One man thinks that since the others weren’t saved, and that one life of a starfish saved is barely a drop in the proverbial bucket, there would therefore be no point in saving that starfish.”

James continued the story. “But the other man was different. He walks up to the starfish, snatches it up, and tosses it back into the ocean. The first man asked, “Why did you bother? It wouldn’t have made a difference.””

Reason concluded, “And he said, “It made a difference… to that starfish.”

The chief of security sighed, enlightened. “Aahhhh…”

She snapped her fingers and smiled. “There you go! You can worry about all the millions of starfish in the ocean. Are you going to let that stop you from saving one? I know you’re being called to a staff meeting, but perhaps going there instead of playing Commander Nick Nova will help save others. Either way, you do whatever you can about saving people, without worrying too much about the few you miss.”

The facts seemed cold, but undeniable. James could be the hero all he wanted, but there was only so much he could do or feel before he was overloaded. It, however, didn’t sit well in his stomach. “I don’t want to stop caring about the people I missed.”

”Hey, just as long as to do what you can instead of giving up.” Reason… reasoned. “Now, related to that starfish thing… I think something like that is going to come up. You might want to pay attention. It’s one of those destiny things. Comprende, broken head?”

“Hey! What are you talking about?”

“Sayanara, Jimmy Boy!”

“Huh?” James mumbled, and found Reason gone. “Dammit! Stop disappearing like that…”

The turbolift stopped with a sudden crunch and the screeching grind of metal. The lights flickered as the hellish scream of grinding gears and rails fought against each other to keep the turbolift moving. After a big shower of sparks, the turbolift made an anti climatic halt. The smoke was allowed to settle, the acrid smell choking his lungs.

The turbolift indicator read deck 6.

“F**k… I’m late enough as is.” He grumbled, forcing the doors open via the manual door overrides. The doors slid open half way, allowing enough room for James to inch his way through.

Deck six fared no better than the previous deck James found himself in. This time, the corridor was on fire, and a sporadic belch of flames erupted from a leaking plasma vent. The walls glowed orange from the flames, and the broken ribs of the hallways were dull with soot. Futile, James covered his mouth with his sleeve, rejecting foul smoke as it entered his lungs. He ran clear of the fire area, turning into a less smog shrouded corridor. He dropped the sleeve out of his mouth, hacking, gasping for precious air.

“Somebody’s here!” Something yelled further away, a figure somewhat visible in the thin smoke. “Hey you! Hey! Help us out here!”

Vaguely seeing the person, James ran forward, coughing along the way. He caught up with the other officer, an ensign in a blue science uniform, and saw even further into the hall. The blue suited officer handed James a canister and a breathing mask. The Chief of Security, thankful for the gift, breathed greedily into the mask, thanking whatever god was available for the breath of air.

“We can’t get out of the deck through that turbolift.” The science officer itinerated. James saw the fire in this section of deck six. It was worse than the turbolift, and it was encroaching closer to himself and the science officer.

“No sh*t.” James responded, “Why are you still here?”

”Plasma fires all over this deck, sir.” The officer filled him in, “We can’t use the turbolift shaft. We can use the Jeffries tubes, but there is one problem. We can’t leave her behind.”

”WHO?!?!”

“Over here, sir!” The science officer led James by the hand. The deck was increasingly hazy. As they delved deeper, James saw the smoke getting thicker, and wondered if there was anyone left at all.

He saw the silhouettes of three people, hunched over a pile of twisted metalwork. They were all talking in a rapid fire tempo through breathing masks, on the verge of panic, working frantically to clear the wreckage. The three working on the removal were little more than civilians in civilian dress, and all were a though away from fleeing. Inside the wreckage was the victim, a bloody faced, long haired individual, the face the only body part showing in the rubble.

“Sir!” One of the civilians yelled, “We can’t get Lieutenant Pharrel out of there! There’s a bulkhead pinning her legs, and it’s stuck!”

“Ensign, any chance I’ll detonate that plasma gas?” James asked.

The ensign looked around unsure, “Uhhh… it’s already detonated out… I think.”

James pulled out his phaser, a reckless smile on his face, yelling to the civilians, “I thought so. CLEAR THE F**K OUT! I’m going to phaser her out!” He waved off the civilians. Scared out of their wits, the frightened civilians scrambled out of the way, haphazardly holding their emergency breathers in their hands. James set his phaser to a narrow focused beam, aimed with is good eye, and fired. The red phaser beam cut through the offending bulkhead, leaving behind a jagged cut and glowing red metal in its wound.

The science officer first responded. “Go! Lift it out!” The civilians complied. James holstered his phaser and helped the group lift the bulkhead off Lieutenant Pharrel’s body. James propped Lieutenant Pharrel’s body on his shoulders and lifted her in a fireman’s carry. “GO! GO!” James ordered, pointing in a general non smoke direction. The civilians, the science officer, and James ran until they made it to a safe area. They removed their oxygen masks, and James lowered Lieutenant Pharrel on the floor.

“Everyone ok?” James questioned. The civilians and the science officer wheezed. ~“Relatively good enough, considering. But what about Lieutenant Pharrel?”~ He turned his attention to the drowsy Lieutenant. She was a brunette, with straight, long hair, and the face like a hawk turned human form. Sharp eyebrows, a pert, sharpened nose and narrow cheeks. Everything about her spoke of an intelligence and wariness like a bird. Her body felt light. She was obviously pretty, but light and somewhat fragile for her 5’9 frame. Her eyes, blue voids like pools of water tapped by red river veins, fluttered open.

“Heh…” Lieutenant Pharrel coughed a fit.

“Are you ok?” James asked hurriedly.

Pharrel paused her wracking hacks to speak. “You phasered me out?”

Dumbfounded, he replied, “Yes.”

Lieutenant Pharrel rested her head on his chest, coughing out the last of the smoke. Her breathing was in rapid fits. James heard her gently sob into his shirt as she buried her face into her chest.

“Thank you…” She gasped, “I was so afraid.”

TBC?……………….

[Backpost]

“That Big ol’ Bright White Light.”

By Lieutenant (jg) Dhanishta Eshe
&
Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder

Stars sparkled, twinkled around her. She could feel their energy, she was part of that energy. As the cosmos whirled around her she could see and sense everything. Every living thing; every plant, every fly, every animal that walked on every planet. She could feel the gravitational pull of the solar systems, the tides and the earth from countless planets that she had yet to explore. It was beautiful, more than that it was amazing. She couldn’t begin to describe it. Everywhere she looked she could see the stars, she was surrounded by them and only them. Maybe she was one but she could not tell and it did not matter. She could not feel her body anymore as it had been before, just the universe and its infinite beauty.

Suddenly she felt torn as if someone or something were pulling her, dragging her from this place of wonder. She wanted to scream; NO! But nothing would come out, she had no voice here, no physical form to grab hold of her universe that was slipping away. There was nothing she could do except watch as it grew more and more distant. Her heart ached, as she longed to reach out and pull it back. Everything shattered around her like a crystal vase. Splinters and shards everywhere flittered into nothingness, and she was left alone in the darkness, a painful empty feeling thrumming through her core like a black hole.

Bright lights pierced through her eye lids, burning her eyes. She threw her arm across her face to blot it out. Confusion filled her as she realised she could feel her entire body, fingers and toes, arms and legs. She shot bolt upright opening her eyes to confirm what she felt. ~ I’m alive? ~

“Computer, lower lights to level two.” Suder ordered quickly. He shot a glance towards the nurse. “When I said wake her up, I didn’t mean this quickly.” He rested a hand on Dhanishta’s shoulder. He thought about the earlier events. What they had done before, drinking in Ten-Forward, fighting in the corridor, Michael explaining what had happened when she eventually showed for duty. “It’s ok, Dhani.” Ethan said softly. “You’re in Sickbay. Alive and bolting apparently.” He gazed at her squinting eyes and smiled a little.

At first it was like he was talking gibberish but as the confusion dissipated she realised what he was saying, “Suder?” she croaked out. Sun blots blurred her view of the origin of the voice. She could feel a hand on her shoulder pushing gently. She followed its direction without thinking until she was lying down again.

“It’s me.” He whispered leaning closer towards her. He hated seeing his Engineers down like this. He felt concerned and worried. He had lost too many people over the last few years, he didn’t want to lose anyone else. He wasn’t going to lose anyone else. “Good old Suder.” He added. He gave her a few seconds to adapt to the low level lighting and whispered again. “How do you feel?” he asked observing her. The Doctors had done a good job of clearing the wounds. The blue cover was typical for Sickbay standards. Dull and boring. He looked at her shoulders at first, fascinated by the Trill spots leading down under the cover. He had never seen a Trill up close before, at least, not like this. He then looked at her feet and legs where she earlier had many cuts. Now nothing but smooth skin, and more Trill spots, all the way down to her ankles. The Doctors had done a great job. “Can you tell me what happened?”

For a moment Dhani just lay breathing deeply. Everything seemed strange, everything felt different. She felt different, lost and confused. Like a part of her was missing. Then it clicked and she remembered. The swirling stars, the beauty, the wonder and the pain. A lump stuck in her throat. She stared up at the ceiling feeling her eyes welling and her breath wavering. “Erm… I’m not sure. I don’t rem..” she stopped as she tried to swallow the lump and stop her tears from falling.

Ethan stood back for a while. He strolled around the bed and looked at the different monitors and consoles around the room. He turned back to Dhanishta and pulled on the front of his jacket to straighten his uniform. He cleared his throat and pulled up a chair. He could sense that she was very confused. Sitting down, he crossed his legs and clasped his hands together and interlocked his fingers. A short while passed before he leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “How do you feel?” he asked, again quietly and softly. “Are you hungry? I can get you something, food, drink?”

Dhani couldn’t think how to explain how she felt at that moment. Everything was different and painful. It wasn’t physical pain that she felt, but an aching, a void inside her. Tears streamed down her face rolling down the side of her cheeks and soaking into the pillow. Rolling on to her side she hugged herself and began to sob harder. Her shoulders shook as her stomach muscles contracted with each sob.

Ethan stood up and stepped closer. He looked at her hair resting behind her on the bed, some lying over her shoulders. He could feel a certain emptiness. A pain. He clenched his teeth as he fought off his own demons after sensing her distress. He raised a hand and rested it on her arm. “Dhani.” He whispered. He didn’t know if she heard him or not, but he just stood there, a hand on her arm so she knew he was there for her.

Dhanishta rubbed her eyes, wiping the tears away, and took another deep breath. “I feel, okay. I’m okay.” She replied trying to make herself believe the words.

Ethan remained silent and stared into the blankness that was once the top of the bed. He could hear the words she spoke so softly. He unclenched his jaw and drew in a deep breath. He focused on her problems and silently sighed. She spoke the words, yet he knew she wasn’t ok. Confused, upset, hurting maybe, but not ok.

She so much wanted him to hold her. She wanted to feel something apart from this, this emptiness. Her sobs continued to wrack her body. She tried to calm herself to no avail. ~ Please, ~ she begged ~ Just hold me ~

Ethan took in a deep breath and swallowed hard. He felt like he was betraying a trust, a trust that had not been created, but in the interest in comfort and helping another in need… He stepped right up against the bed so he was leaning against it and reached out for Dhanishta. As he did, she at the same time moved into him. It was a natural motion. He continued to stare blankly across the room as he hugged Dhanishta Eshe. His cold black eyes locked on the dull wall opposite them. He felt cold.

She could feel the betrayal that he felt at holding her. She wanted to pull away, but couldn’t. She needed this and though he seemed to be disgusted and maybe even repulsed by her she couldn’t let go. Through her sobs she croaked out; “I remember every…” but she couldn’t continue. ~ I died! ~ she screamed out in her mind, ~ I died and I remember. I remember everything ~ but she could not bring herself to say the words out loud. In her minds eye she saw fields of corn. This place she knew, had seen it before. She could hear children laughing, playing. And she could sense the comfort this brought. How it felt like home. But this wasn’t her home, she wasn’t comforted by this. She knew her home was in the stars now, and that brought back the aching in her heart. And she cried harder. She wanted to tell Suder, she knew somehow that he would understand. She pulled back from him and looked into his eyes. They were so distant. He was there, with her. She could feel it, see it. A woman with long golden hair, the bridge of her nose was wrinkled and so was her forehead. She also felt his love, unending, pouring out for this woman. She felt his loss and his regret, guilt and pain. She lay back dow! n on the bed, choking on her tears. Everything she felt from him seemed to sink into her and she could no longer differentiate between her feelings and his. Closing her eyes she drifted through plains of memories.

Ethan for a moment seemed a little shocked. As if his best friend had died. He slowly turned and looked at Dhanishta. “You died?” he whispered croakily.

Though tears continued to role down Dhanishtas face she made no move to answer him. Her mind was preoccupied. Racing with thoughts and memories, her eyes flittered under their lids like she was dreaming or something.

Ethan moved further up the bed and stroked her head a couple of times. He felt an ache in his heart. Not like before, this was something new. He felt a great loss. His own, combined with someone else’s. He looked down at Dhanishta and wondered what she was thinking about. What memories were flashing through her head. He felt a strain in his chest and a pinching sensation. He was a little caught for air. He looked up at the ceiling and tried several times to take deep breathes. He focused on the situation at hand and after a short while, the pain drifted away living the empty ache that had been there for years. He found it easier to breath. Reaching round the bed, he pulled the chair over. Sitting down again, he allowed his hand to sweep over her head and through her hair one more time. “Dhani.” He whispered. “You’re ok…. Safe here. You don’t need to put up walls or hide behind rank. Let it out.” His words sounding so soft and calm.

She could feel his hand stroking her hair, like Chang used to do. His image floated through her head, his almond eyes, so dark. His sharp features, angular jaw surrounded by long thick black hair. She remembered his expressions. How his face, though sharp, would soften when he looked at her. How it felt when they made love, the only time she truly let him in. She remembered the day he left her, when he walked away, and how she let him. And then when she held his dying body in the middle of engineering. These were memories she couldn’t share, not with Suder, not with anyone. She saw so much. The stars whizzing by, her years at the Academy. Her sister, her mother and father. All these things and more rushed through her mind. Like a compilation on fast forward. Part of her wanted to let someone in, but there was too much. And so much she couldn’t share, that she wasn’t allowed to share. It was like parts of her memory had classified stamped all over it.

Suder stood up and was going to get a drink from the replicator, something, anything, water would do fine, something for Dhanishta to sip on. Everyone knew crying seemed to dry the throat. He stepped away from the bed and saw a figure standing in the doorway. She was concealed in the shadows, but he could make out the figure of her body, her hair. His heart beats seemed to echo in the room. He stopped and looked back at Dhanishta. She was seeing so much, and not willing to share that, to easy her pain and suffering. She thought of it as hers, something not to be shared. He could understand that. He looked back at the figure in the doorway and felt short of breath again. His head seemed to pinch around his skull. It was like his brain was too big for his skull. He stepped back towards the bed, stumbling more than stepping. He felt that pinch back in his chest. He looked at the figure and dropped to one knee. He tried to speak but was unable to. His own thought! s took control. The field, the house, the children playing and laughing, Engineering, the broken consoles, the smashed data padds, the crippled screens with boot marks in them, the blonde hair, the wrinkled nose, the jefferies tubes, the explosion, Sickbay…. He looked over at the other bio beds. He saw someone lying there, he knew who. A Captain and his First Officer discussing the situation with a Doctor…. His gasps for breath became more of a challenge and a fighting str uggle. He felt his grip on the side of the bed and the chair slide away as he fell to the floor, still gasping, the memories going through…. And something else as well….

He opened his eyes quickly and saw the floor. The memories had gone, like a fast shuttle flying by. He was breathing normally now, slow deep breathes. Had his personal demons got the better of him? No, something had to have increased it, feelings….. He could feel something more… He climbed up to his feet and looked at Dhanishta, looking a little more clam now, yet still transfixed inside her soul, her past. He wiped the sweat from his head and turned away. He had to think. What the hell was she going through? What was he going through?? He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. ~Enough already~ he told himself. He shook his head and walked out of Sickbay. It was getting to him now. It was too much. What was he suppose to do?! He continued walking, ignoring the Nurse’s question if he was finished talking with Lieutenant Eshe.

Dhani lay there until her mind became numb, till she could no longer think straight. Staring blankly at the ceiling, waiting for feeling to come back to her mind and body, the hours passed…

[Backpost]

“Close Relations and Crystal Stars.”

By Lieutenant (jg) Dhanishta Eshe
&
Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder.

Ethan Suder remained still and calm. His eyes were still blank with no expression behind them but concentration. His quarters were the same as usual. Medium lighting through green filters. The glow produced illuminated everything in the room quite nicely.

He sat in the single chair in his quarters, a small table in front of him. He continued staring at a small glass ball in front of him. After a while, the ball had began to shake a little. Then it did what he had wanted it to do. He had to remain very calm and focused and the task was very tiring. He clenched his teeth occasionally to stop the tiredness from kicking in.

After several hours the feeling came back into Dhanis body, her thoughts were her own again. She wrapped the blue blanket around her and slipped off the bio bed. Sick Bay was quiet; she wasn’t sure of the time but guessed it to be late or very early in the morning. She padded across the room in her bare feet and took a seat at the window. For hours she just stared out at them, the stars. Remembering how and what she had felt. Pressing her hand up against the window a tear slipped down her cheek. ~ I’ve had enough of this! ~she thought. She re-wrapped the blanket around her and left sick bay.

The halls of the Galaxy were so quiet you could hear a pin drop, ~ Guess everyone is on shore leave still. ~ she thought marvelling at the silence, she never knew the ship could be this inactive. She hesitated as she reached the doors of Ten Forward. After what happened when she was last in there maybe she should give it a wide birth for a while.

After a while of wondering down corridors and in and out of turbolifts, she found herself outside Suders quarters. She stood for a moment just looking at his door, wondering why her feet had stopped here. She uncoiled her hand from under the blanket, making sure she had hold of it still with the other, reached out and pressed the chime. It wasn’t that she was cold, just modest.

The doors to Ethan quarters slid open. He cursed himself for not locking it and silently cursed as the distraction caused him to lose focus for a moment. The ball came crashing down on the table, smashing into tiny little pieces. It scattered on to the floor around the small table.

The sound of the ball smashing made Dhani jump, even yelp slightly. She looked down at the shards of glass that littered the floor and waited for them to just disappear as they had done before. But nothing happened. She looked up at Suder and remembered where she was.

Ethan bit his lower lip and looked towards the door and saw Dhanishta stood outside. He stood up, straightened his uniform and stepped closer to the door. “Come on in.” he invited. “Can I get you something?” he asked.

She smiled slightly at him as she walked in, trying to dodge the broken glass with her bare feet as she stepped towards the couch. She nodded in response to his question, “Anything that’s hot and non alcoholic would be great, please.”

Ethan approached the replicator and ordered none other than Klingon Coffee. He walked back over to the couch, handed her the mug and sat down in his chair.

As she took the mug from him she began to smell its aroma. She took a long inhale as she held it in her hands. Watching the steam rise, she felt it on her face, warm and moist. The warmth seeped through her hands and arms. As she took a sip she felt her mouth tingle as the liquid caressed her tongue, waking her senses. She took another long inhale before setting the mug down on the table and looking up at Suder.

“So,” Ethan began. He looked around the room and then focused on Dhanishta. He hardly ever got visitors and this was more than an unsettling surprise. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“I got kinda lonely in sick bay, took a walk. I figured that I should give Ten Forward a miss after, you know. And somehow I ended up here.” She replied picking up the mug of coffee and taking another sip.

Ethan thought for a moment and then raised to his feet. He strolled over to the replicator and ordered a drink. As his usual beverage appeared in front of him, he walked back over to the chair, still thinking why she had ended up here. “I assume you’re feeling better. What with all the walking around. I hate Sickbay too. If you’re going to stay there for a long time, you would think they’d have better colours on the walls.” He sat down and sipped his drink.

“Agreed.” Dhani said, cringing at how formal she sounded. “Though I found the ceiling to be extremely colourful.” She said enthusiastically trying to make up for her formality.

Ethan gave Dhani a quick glance before drinking some more. “You end up in Sickbay often?” he asked. “Because if you do, it wasn’t mentioned in your personnel file.” He smiled as he drunk some more of the thick blue beverage.

Dhani almost choked on her coffee, “The lights,” she stammered trying to swallow her drink, “the lights from the console. They reflected off the ceiling.” She explained. “Cheered up the grey. And no I don’t go to sick bay often, why?”

“Just checking.” Ethan replied quietly. He took in a deep breath and sipped some more. Why Dhanishta had come by to see him still was not clear. Sure he’d explore the ship and just ended up somewhere, but there was always a reason behind it. He thought about the last time he did that. What a disaster. He continued to think about that for a while, forgetting that Dhanishta was there for just a second as the memories played through his mind like a movie.

“A phaser for your thoughts?” Dhani quoted.

“Just thinking about what happened when I went strolling around the ship and just ended up at someone’s quarters.”

“Yeah? What, happened?”

Suder glanced over at Dhanishta and gave a weak smile. “A week later she ended up dead when we attacked a Federation starship.”

“Uh? You wanna explain that? Please.”

“It’s a long story…” Ethan paused and got to his feet. He ordered another drink from the replicator and turned to look at the latest Engineer on the ship. Seeing that she was waiting to hear the story, he clenched his jaw and moved back to his seat. “The USS St. Louise… The crew, were infected, a virus of some kind. To cut a long story short, they tried to get somewhere, to treat the crew for this disease.” He sat down and sipped his drink. “They could have risked the entire population of the planet, so we were ordered to stop them…” His vision began to blur as he remembered the events as they happened. “We intercepted the St. Louise and engaged them. It was a stand off at first, both ships taking minor damage. By order of the Captain…. Captain Price, we allowed the St Louise to proceed. He’s a good man for the most part, but there are some things I can’t forgive him for.” Suder trailed off and drank some more. He looked back over at Dhanishta. “Before the St. ! Louise could escape, they managed to score several direct hits to the ship. Several major systems were damaged. Several Engineers were lost in critical areas of the ship where we were hit. The St. Louise knew exactly where to hit us, and Captain Price allowed this to happen.” He sipped some more of his drink and looked at Dhanishta.

“Well then what happened?” she asked leaning forward in her chair. She was glad of the distraction from her own recent experience but she was also interested to find out what happened.

Ethan hesitated for a while before answering. “The crew of the St. Louise were saved. They found the cure they were looking for.” He raised his glass and put on a false smile. “Here’s to their health.” He drank some more and took in a deep breath as the liquid warmed up his throat and chest.

“No, I mean this person you were talking about . A woman?” Dhani questioned deeper.

“Lieutenant Adrianna. Borg Specialist. An El Aurian.” Ethan sat back in the comfy chair and sighed again. “She died in the attack. She was in one of the vital sections when it blew.” He kind of laughed, but it wasn’t about joy, it was sadness, a laugh to cover up the truth. “Not too many people showed up for the funeral, not even the Captain. I guess most of them were too busy filling out reports and trying to get free from Starfleet. And all they got was a slap on the wrist.”

Dhani looked down at the floor for a moment thinking about his reactions. It was obvious that this saddened him, more than just loosing a crew member. Hell they had lost many officers during the Breen attack back on earth but this ‘pain’ was something more. And what made it worse was that she identified with that pain. “I guess she was more than a friend.” She stated under her breath. Looking back up at Suder she said; “I’m sorry. And…. I understand.” she almost whispered.

“She was a good friend. We spent a lot of time together. At the same time I became really good friends with Lieutenant McDowell and Commander Dallas. We were like the best of friends, nothing could get between us. She died because we didn’t do what we were ordered to. At the same time I was working on Deck Eighteen, another good friend of mine was killed when a bulkhead above us gave way.” He paused and clenched his teeth again. “That damned support beam… Took off her head. I’ve seen a lot of people go like that. A short while later several of the Senior Officers died in a turbolift. People I knew, liked and got along with.” Ethan took another deep breath and noticed he had Dhanishta’s full attention. “On a ship like this, we’re often at the front of the line, you’ll see a lot of action here. People do everything they can to get transferred he to be part of that action. I’ve lost thirty five people since I made Chief of Engineering.”

“Wow, that’s a lot. Just to set the record straight, and no offence intended. I didn’t ask to be transferred here.” She said.

“I know.” Ethan replied.

She nodded and almost smiled. “I understand why some people didn’t attend Adrianna’s funeral. It can be hard being in ‘power’ and admitting that you made a mistake. And maybe slightly insulting to everyone else to attend the funeral when they think it’s your fault. Having everyone blaming you silently, not wanting to talk to you. Being out-cast by your friends, people who you looked up to, people who looked up to you. Feeling like you’re not allowed to greave….” She trailed off staring at the table in front of her.

Ethan smiled and shook his head. “That’s the problem. There was no blame like that, except from me. As far as everyone was concerned, they had done the right thing. I mean, from the top-snots point of view, better to help save a few hundred lives and lose a handful than the other way round.” he replied. “Not many people knew her, one of the other reasons they didn’t attend. The whole situation shook people up. I can’t say it bothers me who did or did not turn up. The people who cared for her, liked her, were there. When you’re a Captain or a Senior Officer, I guess it’s kinda hard to show up at every funeral on the ship. And since I’ve been here, there’s been too many.” He looked over at Dhanishta and then back to the spot he had been staring at as he told the story. “They did the right thing. Doesn’t mean people like me have to like it. Would I have risked the lives of a few hundred so that my crew would be safe? Probably. But then I’m not Vulcan, I don’t be! lieve that the needs of the many always out weight the needs of the few. Maybe my morals aren’t as high as they should be, but how can we deny our personal feelings and wants for the higher cause of something that may or may not be right. Who’s to decide what should have happened?” Ethan got up and grabbed another drink for him and Dhanishta. He placed it on the table in front of her and sat back down.

Dhani thought for a moment. She glanced up at Suder as he placed the refill on the table, “Thanks.” She muttered. “I know you don’t like Vulcans, but they do have a point. And a lot of self control. Feelings and the like, well they rule us. Make us tick. I like the way that Vulcans can almost in affect just switch them off. It’s something that I have studied for a long time and almost mastered.” She paused for a moment. “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” She repeated. “I think that, and I know that you will agree with me, that if it was your life in question. And by dying you would save the rest of the crew, your friends. I think, I know, that you would carry out your duties, and save the ship. And your friends would feel the same way you do and did about Adrianna. In the end you do believe that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.” She looked into his eyes.

Ethan smiled and sipped his drink. She was catching on. “As I said, doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“None of us do ‘Commander!” she said returning his smile. She wriggled in the chair pulling the blanket up around her shoulders.

“So what about you, you have a story to tell?” Ethan asked.

“A story?” Dhani questioned, “How about stories!” she smiled slightly at him. “But I’m afraid I don’t share as easily as most.” She gave him a cheeky smile.

Noticing his dismay she continued, “To be honest I wouldn’t know where to start!”

“How about a brief summary?” Ethan asked back.

“Of what? My life?” she asked.

“A story.” Ethan shot back quietly. “You understand.” He quoted. “So what happened?”

“What happened with what?” Dhani asked confused.

“The person you lost?” Ethan asked. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but based on your age, you either lost someone when you were a little younger, or at some point like the Dominion War. Am I close?”

Dhani nodded, “During the Breen attack on Earth.” She said her eyes glazing over slightly. She sighed and looked back at Suder, something told her that wouldn’t be enough for him. “His name was Chang. Chang Lao. He was a fellow engineer. He was hurt badly when the Breen...” She paused and a change seemed to come over her. “I held him in my arms, I,” she chuckled slightly, though it wasn’t with happiness, “I even kissed him. And then I left him. He was still alive, but…. I left him there, as he….” She pause again, “I didn’t go to his funeral. I couldn’t stand to see his girlfriend crying her little heart out.” She said scornfully.

Ethan regarded Dhani for a few seconds and gave a nod. “Oh the Breen.” Suder said. “They didn’t want to believe the war was over. I lost people too on Earth. Everywhere really, ships, Earth, Betazed, here.” He was lost for words and found it hard to swallow. He had lost a lot of people, but the greatest loss, he couldn’t even talk about. He got up and walked over to a table and grabbed a frame containing a photo in it. He discretely rested it face down on the table. At the same time he reached over the table and grabbed a bottle and two glasses. He walked back over to the chair and raised the bottle. “It’s not alcoholic, but it’s good.” He opened the bottle and poured the two glasses to the top.

She nodded and watched while Suder poured out the drink. “You know, Ethan,” she started, not realising how his name seemed to role off her tongue like she’d been calling him that for years, “I think it’s me!”

“What’s you?”

“Why he left me. You know what? It was me, my fault.” She replied swirling the liquid round in her glass.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Ok.” He said slowly. “How’s it your fault?”

“If I hadn’t been so,” she took a deep breath trying to find the right word, “So incredibly anal, then he would have stayed with me. If I had gone after him. Just done something to show how I felt. You know? Instead I guess was too afraid to. The fear of rejection. He compared me to a Vulcan!!” She huffed.

Ethan thought for a moment and wondered if she was talking about him. He had earlier compared her to a Vulcan. He shook the thought from his head and allowed what she had said to sink in. He smiled at himself, a smile of self-pity. “Yeah, I know all too well. I think everybody’s come across someone who they wished they’d shared their feelings, asked them out for a drink, or at least have done something.” He clenched his teeth yet again. He didn’t like the way the conversation was going or what he had just said.

She nodded, “I know.” she stared him in the eyes, “Its time we stopped doing that. You see an opportunity; you grab it by the horns, is it? And ride it till you fall off. Then you get back up and do it again. Eventually you’ll learn how to ride and you won’t fall off again!”

Ethan slowly nodded. “Good philosophy. You should do that.”

“Hey, I don’t know why you’re looking at me. Have you seen the guys on this ship? I was using the bull as a metaphor!” she said giving him that cheeky smile again. “On the other hand I really think you should take my advice.” She said with a serious tone. “I know that everyone thinks I’m a wacko now, but my advice is still sound. Talking of which I should really get back to sick bay.” She screwed her face up, “In about another hour?”

Ethan chuckled at her comments. “I’m an old man Dhani.” He told her. “Not compared to most people and Vulcans I know. But most people on the ship are… too young. Point is I’m getting on. I don’t think there’s any room in my heart anyway.” He looked around his quarters for a moment and then back at Dhanishta. “Besides, I have a ship to look after, don’t really have time for anything else these days.”

Dhani shot a serious look at him, “Bull.” she replied. “Absolute and utter. You just don’t want to make the time. Or rather take the chance. Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

Ethan allowed his gaze to drift over to Dhani and sighed. He then looked away, lowered his head and looked at the floor. “There’s no one here on the ship I want to take a chance with.”

She took a deep breath, “Who said that she had to be on the ship, Ethan?”

“Well that would involve me leaving the ship, probably Starfleet too.” He replied quietly. “Besides, wouldn’t work out anyway.”

She sighed again. “How do you know if you don’t try?”

Ethan frowned as he had done so many times before, in fact over the years it had become his normal look. Why was she pushing the issue? Didn’t people know when to back off? Michael and Karyn would have understood, not been so pushy. “Because she was happy. She was, kinda involved with someone…. Else. Who am I to interfere with that happiness, break two hearts for my own?”

She knew that she could really end this conversation, but something kept driving her, “If you died, today, what would your one regret be? That you left your ship, your ‘baby’ behind or that you never experienced true love?”

Ethan continued to frown and then his features softened a little. He continued staring at the floor. “I’ve died before, Dhani. No regrets. I knew that she was happy, so it didn’t matter what I felt, what I thought. I died happy because she was happy.”

Dhani was silent for a few minutes, she felt something coil inside her merging with something else, neither of which she could identify. She stood up suddenly, the blanket slipped off her shoulders revealing the skimpy medical gown she had been put into. “You died with an emergency engineering hologram at your side, you had NO WAY of knowing weather she was happy or not. And WHY? Because you were too chicken to find out!” she almost shouted at herself as well as him.

The glass in her hand began to vibrate violently. Every atom resonated until every molecule exploded. And she screamed, jumping at the noise. Everything slipped into slow motion, like a movie of old. The tiny droplets froze in the air, shining and shimmering in the light. The fragmented pieces of glass began to move through the air, coiling around Dhanishta.

The rest of the room fell into darkness for Dhani, all she could see were the stars, the small shards of glass, encircling her. Just like her memory of passing. She remembered the feelings she had had, tears streamed down her face as she realised it was just that; a memory. Yet still she reached out to them, not wanting to let go of her universe. As her fingertips stretched out she could feel it, touch it, hold it, maybe even keep it? As she grasped the ‘star’ her finger began to bleed. A tiny droplet of blood trickled down her finger. She stared at the ‘star’.

Ethan turned quickly to the sound of the glass breaking. He then was a little amazed at the following sight. Dhanishta was stood in the middle of the room, the broken crystal of the glass surrounding Dhanishta in a circle. He glanced around the room as most of objects began vibrating a little or slowly drifting off the surface they were on. He looked back at Dhanishta and raised an eyebrow.

One by one Dhani began to pick each ‘star’ out of ‘space’. She had to keep them, they were hers, why shouldn’t she? Part of her knew that this wasn’t real, that she would once again be pulled back. But while she was here… As she picked the tiny pieces out from the air her fingers started to bleed as they caught on the rough, almost razor sharp edges of the broken glass.

Ethan got out of his chair and frowned as he made his way over to Dhanishta. He grabbed her arms gently, but firmly and shook her a little to bring her out of whatever world she was in, he then pushed her back into the chair she had previously been sitting in.

Dhanishta continued to collect the shining objects, like a magpie, and hoarding them as they began to rotate round her.

“What is it?” he asked in a serious tone, jaw still clenched and arms held firmly at his side. “What do you see?”

Dhani could hear him yet she was still transfixed on the scene around her, “I can’t begin to describe it.” She said slowly, like she was struggling to find the words.

“What do you feel?” he asked.

“Everything!” She replied.

“Show me.” He said quietly, still pissed off.

Dhanishta turned slowly to face him. She could see him clearly, though not as others would. His face, hands, torso, legs, feet, all of his body was made up of pure energy. Dhani could see that energy like live wires, glowing, pulsating, crackling all around him. Almost like looking through heat censored goggles. His eyes were like a beacon, a light house guiding those lost at see back to shore. She searched those eyes that shined so brightly. She rose and moved towards him. Her breath was short and fast. Reaching out she touched his cheek with her hand. Tracing a line from his forehead to his chin, she moved in closer till there was no more than an inch between them. Standing on the tip of her toes she drew him into her whispering, “Keep you eyes open.” She locked onto his eyes and grazed her thumb across his lips, followed by her own. She kissed him gentle at first, their lips barley touching. Then she rose further and kissed him passionately. As their tongues collided the connection was made…

Ethan, not feeling any more relaxed, noticed his quarters disappear around him. A kind of darkness seemed to replace his living space and little stars appear. As if he were viewing the entire galaxy. He felt comfortable at first and then knew that these feelings were not his own. What he saw he couldn’t describe, as if this was life, what was to be achieved by going through that living hell he had been going through just moments earlier. Everything looked so pure, the stars so full of energy and bright light, even the darkness of space seemed to have a lot of natural energy in it. But it wasn’t real. He knew this. But it had been real for Dhanishta. He cast his mind back to the earlier events. It almost seemed to make sense, but the question now stood why was she doing this?

As their lips parted the connection was broken. Dhanishta sunk back down to her heals, staring at Suders chest. She pivoted and turned her attention to the rest of the room. Small bits of broken glass floated around her and Suder, she was more than a little confused at the sight. Every object she saw from the bottle half drunk on the table to the books on the shelves even the bookcase itself were floating. “Suder?” she questioned

“Yeah?” he whispered between clenched teeth.

She jumped slightly not realising he was standing behind her, everything that had just transpired was obviously not in her memory banks. “Erm.. What’s going on?” she asked, startled by his apparent hostility.

Ethan raised his arm and focused on the bookcase and books. Abruptly, they fell to the floor. “You died earlier.” He said. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Dhani was more than a little shocked, she backed away from him. “I meant with your furniture.” She said a frown crossing her face. Realising she was wearing practically nothing she crouched down and picked up the blanket from the floor. “And I thought you knew. Figured you read the medical report. I did. I di…” she found the word difficult to say, especially in the same sentence as ‘I’. She took a deep breath and tried again, “I die..” She began again with slight more force in her voice as she tried to force the words from her mouth, “I died, in McDowell’s arms.”

Ethan smiled a little. What a hero. He must have taught that kid something after all. “You took a little trip to fantasy land. Remembering. That’s a hell of an imagination you have.” He commented, glad that subject had drastically changed. He looked at the small table and it dropped down on the floor. He felt more tired than usual now. “You were explaining the what is, what could have been, and what is to come after I explained that I died a long time ago. Then you spaced out.”

“Oh.” Dhani replied looking round the room at all the levitating objects.

“Wanna help out, or do you want to bitch at me some more.” Ethan said gesturing towards the remaining furniture that was slightly off the floor.

Dhani gave him a confused look. “I’m sorry.” She replied shrugging her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to bitch.” She looked at the rest of the room. “And I’m afraid I don’t know how to …” she gestured at the room, “levitate… stuff.”

Ethan frowned and sighed. “Focus, Dhani.” He stepped back. “Relax and focus, imagine the energy around everything, and slowly take that energy from under it.”

“I don’t do that!” she said in a defensive tone.

Ethan looked down at her for a moment and then at the rest of the room. He closed his eyes and concentrated. For a while he just stood there, then slowly, the few objects that were still floating rattled a little as he tried to bring them down. He frowned as he felt the tiredness of this task really settle in. His legs felt weak beneath him. He felt a slight sweat break out across his body, but he, as usual, felt cold.

Dhani watched him in fascination. She noted his tiredness and decided it was probably a good time to leave. “I should go.” She said gesturing towards the door. “I’m sorry, for everything.” She wrapped the blanket tightly round her and made a move for the door.

“You know where I am should you decide to end up somewhere again, you know… If you want to talk or something.” He said quietly.

She turned and smiled at him, “Thanks Ethan.” She said as the doors slid closed behind her.

Ethan sighed, frowned and looked around at his quarters. Her earlier comments had really been what he didn’t need to hear right now. What did she know anyway? His thoughts became consumed of the past, what she had said, what he had said, how he felt and if he should have done something different. There were loud crashing noises behind him. He opened his eyes and looked around. Most of the furniture was now resting on its side or roughly where it used to be. But everything had been sorted, he would just need to tidy up. He strolled over to his desk and looked at the frame that was face down. The glass had broken and was laying around it. Clearly it was another item that had suddenly dropped from the few inches it was hovering. He picked up the frame and removed the picture from within. For a good few seconds, he just looked at the picture and then put it down on the desk. He walked back over to the chair he had been sitting in and picked up the bottle that was in! tact. He opened it and raised it towards the door. “Here’s to you kid. Lets hope you take your own advice!”

'Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire'

Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian

USS Galaxy Battle Bridge

Savar barely glanced up as the last bridge officer finally arrived on the Battle Bridge. Half of the usual officers were absent, having been assigned to Commander von Ernst's Away Team. Unlike almost everyone else, Savar preferred to remain onboard and tend to his proper duties rather than drooling at the prospect of a field trip to an extinct world. The latest casualty reports stated that a little over a hundred crewmembers had managed to return to duty so far following triage, but many more were still out of action. The ship would not repair itself.

With that in mind, Savar had removed the dust cover from his console and was doing what he could to assist. Having tapped into LtCmdr Suder's repair schedule, he could see the prospect of fully operational tactical systems was a long way off. Tr'Khellian was therefore doing his best to reroute as many systems as possible away from the damaged sections of the EPS grid and to grab as much of the reserved sensor load as possible so that Tactical would not be bypassed by those pointless academics in the Science department.

A few more minutes passed in silence, until Savar's work was interrupted by a chirping from his console. Flipping to a different display, he raised an eyebrow and looked up. "Incoming report from Lieutenant Rex's squadron. One of the pilots has detected another small craft in the system - Federation origin. It appears to be a Starfleet Type XI shuttle."

The African's brow furrowed. "Can we get it on our sensors?" he asked.

"No," the Romulan replied, pointedly, as further indictment of the Captain's priorities. "Rex is routing their sensor data to us via subspace radio." Thankfully that had been one of the few systems left undamaged by the explosions that ravaged Quentin. He received the data packet and quickly scanned through it. "Two lifeforms aboard; their propulsion and communications systems are down. Their position and attitude suggests they may have been entering high orbit on the far side of the planet during the explosions in Quentin's atmosphere." He looked up with a neutral expression on his olive-toned face. "They are fortunate to have survived."

"Indeed," Daren remarked grimly. "Recommendations?"

"The same radiation affecting our saucer section has flooded the shuttlecraft," tr'Khellian reported. "Using the transporter may not be wise, and in any case, the shuttle has been thrown to the outer edge of the system. I suggest we have two fighters retrieve the shuttle using manual grapples and tow it to our aft docking bay."

M'Kantu nodded. "Issue the order. Any idea who they are?"

The Romulan looked back at his console and tapped in some commands, somewhat hesitantly. He was still getting to grips with Starfleet's tactical controls and computer interface mechanisms, and the rather different consoles used on the Battle Bridge did not help. He had to admire the idea of having a reserve command centre, and especially for the fact it was dedicated to Tactical functions, so that the saucer could be jettisoned along with the pointless human cargo the Galaxy usually carried. Not to mention the decor was considerably more tolerable. If only M'Kantu had the courage to match the technical dedication with proper leadership rather than running his ship by committee.

"It is listed as the Shuttlecraft Utopia," Savar said, mispronouncing the unfamiliar Latin word. "According to the basic manifest it ought to be carrying Lt Derran T'Kan and Cadet Michael Nicholas-Henderson." He looked up. "We were not informed of any intended rendez-vous," he remarked.

"Well," M'Kantu said levelly, "whoever they are, they need our help. Inform Security and Sickbay." He turned back to his report. "Keep me posted."

"Trick Landing"

Lt. JG Corran Rex,
Vanguard Squadron CO / Vanguard Division CO

Having long since decided that a stationary defense grid wasn't serving the temporarily-blind Starship Galaxy any good, Corran now had the six active Vanguard pilots on recon runs - not too far out, and certainly ready to leap back to Galaxy's defense if necessary. "Vanguard Two" Corran started, keeping an eye on his own relatively empty sensors. "What've you got?"

["Nothing on my sensors, Lead."] Tainer replied, voice showing the big human's frustration. ["Telemetry's still flowing to Galaxy, though. Such as it is."]

Corran nodded, even though the other man couldn't see it. "Vanguard Three and Four? What about you two?" the squadron commander asked.

["Clear stars, Lead."] Three replied, speaking for both himself and his wingmate.

["Same here, Lieutenant. There's not a blessed thing out in this void."] Seven spoke up, replying for himself and his wing before Corran could ask. The Trill smiled a moment at the younger pilot's presumption, but then noticed a flicker on his own screen.

"Two, you see that?" he asked, keeping the excitement out of his voice. After so many hours of boring patrol, the interruption was rather nice.

["Got it, Lead. Looks like a shuttle - Type Eleven. Reading two life signs."] Tainer replied.

"Allright then. I'm passing this back on to the ship. Vanguard 3, 4, 7, and 8, pull back to a defensive position around the ship. Two and I will check this out some more." Corran ordered, soft clicks on the comm serving as acknowledgements from his other pilots.

The two Bonzai-Class starfighters sped up in the stellar drift, impulse engines glowing brightly as they moved towards the disabled shuttle. Corran kept one eye on the shuttle, and another on the ongoing text communications coming from Galaxy. As they passed over a high orbit of Quentin, the two starfighters moved into visual range of the disabled shuttle. One of it's nacelles was cracked, possibly leaking plasma. Internal lights on the shuttle - who's name read as 'Utopia' - seemed to be out. Scorch-marks obscured the craft's origin point, but Rex could make out the soft glow of emergency lighting and LCARS through the cockpit. The two passengers, both male, seemed to be unconscious.

["Looks like they got hit by the same thing we did, Lieutenant."] came Tainer's observation.

"That it does, Two." Corran replied, looking at the text orders from Galaxy. "Allright. Galaxy just sent orders - we're to take them in tow and bring them to the main shuttlebay. You move to the port side and I'll take starboard. Lock your tractor beam at fifty percent strength and let's move in at one-quarter impulse. That shuttle looks like it's been through a lot, let's not break it."

["Acknowledged. Moving into position."] came the response, and moment later the young Trill saw watched as the junior pilot put actions to words.

~You're gonna screw it up, you know.~

~Were you this cynical when you were alive, Vorrin?~ Corran asked the voice in exasperation.

~No. Being dead has that effect on me, however.~

Rex merely rolled his eyes. ~Shut up, Vorrin.~ he replied out of habit as he moved his own fighter into position. "Allright Two," he said, keying the comm again. "Lock tractors now."

The two faded blue beams launched out simultaneously, both gripping and steadying the damaged shuttle. In concert, the two fighters altered course back towards where they came. At one point, the rest of the shuttles damaged port nacelle sheared off, tumbling down into Quentin's gravity well and burning up on re-entry. That forced Tainer to compensate and keep the shuttle level, though it would make landing the now off-balance craft more difficult. Rex grimaced, but at least it was a short flight back to the Galaxy. When they arrived, they found the bay doors waiting open. Corran tried, but was unsuccessful in raising Shuttlebay Control on the comm, so he gave the order for he and his wing to take their charge in.

Ever so gently, the pair of fighters maneuvered the shuttle into the bay, using thrusters only. Once in, Shuttlebay Control's own tractor beam took over, and eased it down, lopsided, to the deck. "Two, get back out there on patrol. I want to check on this." Corran ordered as he set his own fighter down.

["Acknowledged, Lead. Moving out."] was the last response Corran heard before he unsealed his cockpit. As he clambered out, he saw Medical and Security teams rushing towards the now-open Shuttlecraft Utopia.

"Shuttle Ride to. . . .where?"

Jp by Brian and Chris

with some unauthorized appearances.

(Deck 4 shuttle Bay)

With a sigh of impatience, Rebecca von Ernst plopped her tiny frame into the over-large shuttle seat just to the right of the pilot.

Jeremy Savoie, the 'Space-Boomer' Flight control Chief, was likewise strapped in and gave his 'co-pilot' a small nod.

Rebecca ignored this, and let her thoughts wander as Savoie continued to busy himself with the pre-flight checklist.

Behind them, Rebecca could hear the muffled clatter and whisperings of the rest of the Away Team getting settled in aboard the Shuttlecraft OPAKA, while across the bay she could see the second half of her team boarding the SERENGHETI.

OPAKA, actually, had been severely damaged years ago during the dangerous Ursid misison. A surprising undersea adventure had left the poor craft batterd and bruised, almost crushed by the intense ocean water pressure. At length the waterlogged craft, and its soaked crew breached the surface and rose once more to the stars where OPAKA had barely delivered its occupants to safety before giving up the ghost.

Now, totally rebuilt and restored, Galaxy crewmembers had grown rather attached to the 'little shuttle that could' and it was always a popular choice for dangerous assignements.

Rebecca had picked it because it was closest to the door and she didn't have to walk as far.

Inwardly, Jeremy smiled smugly as he checked the status of the shuttle's systems one more time. He knew he'd be picked for this mission, and even if Geluf was going too he at least had the satisfaction of knowing Von Ernst decided she needed him. Despite the red-head's icy reputation, Jeremy wasn't the least but uncomfortable about being with her now. She tended to speak only when necessary and that suited him fine; the less chatter, the less shit to put up with. She'd do her job and he'd do his and that's just the way he liked it.

"All systems show ready, Commander. We're ready to go whenever you say," Savoie informed, his eyes fixed on the details of the flight plan he'd pulled up for one last review. Hearing no reply, Jeremy glanced in her direction. She appeared to be daydreaming. Taking this as a sign that she had no objections, he decided to get things moving.

"Flight control, this is OPAKA. Request clearance on filed flight plan for planetary intercept."

=/\= Opaka. . . . .Flight Control, Flight Plan approved as filed for Alpha 2 Departure via the Starboard side flight path. Be aware of Shuttle Traffic at your 8 o'clock .=/\=

Savoie strained a bit against the straps as he turned to see the SERENGHETI sitting back await its turn for departure.

"Copy that Flight, OPAKA has the Traffic. Ready to go at Starboard side flight path."

=/\=OPAKA is cleared for departure. Maintain Alpha 2 until 5000 meters and then follow own navigation. Flight Control out.=/\=

"Copy Flight" The pilot nodded to himself, "OPAKA departing Shuttle Bay."

With a gentle brush of fingertips agains the glowing LCARS disply, Jeremy lifted OPAKA a bare meter off the polished deck and sent it gliding forward on a smooth cushion of anti-graviton particles.

Behind them, SERENGHETI's pilot could be heard processing similar radio chatter in preparation for launch.

Rebecca watched with a bored expression as the slate grey walls of the massive shuttle bay slid past her window until suddenly the infinate blackness of endless space exploded into her view.

Briliant pinpricks of starlight wheeled across her vision as Savoie banked the small craft, creating a small vertigo effect that sent a quivver of nausea a through her stomach.

Due to the addition of the third Warp Nacelle and its supporting structures in the new Galaxy design, departing shuttle craft could no longer continue straight aft following launch.

The 'Alpha 2 Departure' in Savoie's flight plan was one of many precisely defined imaginary pathways in space that safely guided shuttles in and around the huge number 3 Nacelle.

Rebecca studied the massive glowing engine as OPAKA turned to avoid it to starboard.

While not a real afficianado of Starship design, Rebecca had always felt that some ships of the fleet were 'prettier than others.'

Her time aboard the Excelsior class PROSPERO as Brhode's XO had given her a great love for that 100 year old design, what with its smooth racing lines and graceful back-swept nacelles. ~~Like a space-going ballerina~~ she mused to herself.

Even the original GALAXY, with its molded organic design, and hundreds upon hundreds of huge glowing windows had struck her as aesthetically pleasing.

The GALAXY II however was as ugly as they came. Despite Doctor Jebediah Quick's claim that his new Galaxy was based on artistically sound inspirations, it was apparant the old coot would not know art if it came up and whacked him upside the noodle!

GAL II was a big space-going brick to Rebecca's eyes. The addition of little racing fins and the underslung Super Phaser mount effectively ruined the charm of the 'ship that Brahms built'.

~~~USS Galaxy. . . .Flagship of the fleet.~~~ she mused to herself as Savoie settled in on a new course. ~~~What a joke.~~~

It was obvious to her that the political mayhem between the Hawks and Doves back at fleet Command had given rise to the travesty that had stripped that title from Picard's ENTERPRISE and granted it to Brhode's GALAXY.

Picard was a Dove... . .

Brhode was a Hawk.

ENTERPRISE was a space-going Empress of the Stars. . . .

GALAXY was. . . .a brick with engines.

Rebecca suppressed a snort of disdain.

"Galaxy Traffic, This is OPAKA." Savoie was saying again, "We are clear of Alpha 2 at 5000 meters."

=/\=Copy that OPAKA. Proceed with own navigation.=/\=

Quentin wheeled into view before them.

"Now comes the fun part," Jeremy heard von Ernst mutter.

"Fun" was putting it mildly. It wasn't every day that a guy got to fly a shuttle into the glowing embers of a self-imolating planet.

"Sensors are reading heavy convection-related turbulence up ahead," Savoie warned. "It's gonna be a bumpy ride down." No sooner had he uttered the words than the OPAKA began shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. "Attempting to stabilize our descent," he announced over the sound of the heaving shuttle. The pilot's fingers scrambled across his console and after a few tense moments, the vibrations lessened. "I'm sure that's not the last time that's gonna happen."

The two shuttles traced twin streaks of neon fire across the boiling Quentin atmosphere as the air friction clawed mercilessly at their navigational shielding. Even under the best of circumstances, atmospheric interface created quite an impressive light show for travellers, but now with Quentin's damaged stratosphere churning with a veritable chemical soup of elements, along with tons of airbourne dust particles, the hull ionization was a literal rainbow of incandescent light.

Someone in the back of the cabin verbalized a hope that someone back on Galaxy was recording the light show for posterity purposes. Like two avenging angels of legend, OPAKA and SERENGHETI, dove through the air trailing fire and brimstone in their wake.

"What the . . .?" Something registered ahead and Savoie was clearly startled. "Altering course 45 degrees hard starboard! SERENGHETI, match course change!" he yelled over the comm link as the OPAKA violently shifted in response. As the shuttle veered, the entire viewscreen in front of them glowed red for a moment.

A giant cloud of flammable methane gases, released from underground caverns in the recent castastrophy lay directly across OPAKA's path. With a huge = =WHOOMP!!!= = of ignited air, the noxious green cloud ignited into fiery incandesence as the red hot shuttle hulls barely clipped its outer edge in their passing. Fortuantely the Nav-Shields prevented any damage beyond a severe shaking up.

"Even the fuckin' air's on fire!" Jeremy replied in disbelief as he frantically scanned for more giant pockets of flaming methane gas like the one they had just barely missed.

Not only was their more turbulence and more flames to dodge, but the further the shuttles descended the worse visibility became, as soot and smoke from volcanic activity on the surface choked the atmosphere with a thickening layer of ash. "All we've got are sensors now; visibility is near zero. And I don't even know if we can trust the sensors in this mess."

"We don't have much of a choice, Lieutenant," von Ernst replied. "There appears to be a low ridge of hills up ahead with a flatter and apparently still solid plateau just beyond. Let's set down there."

"Yes ma'am." Matching the shuttle's trajectory to the landforms picked up by the sensors, Jeremy carefully guided them over the ridge of hills.

"You see Savoie," Rebecca began lecturing, "What I need you to - - - - -HOLY FREAKING NOODLES!!!!" she shrieked in surprise! "CRAAAAAAAAAP" Jeremey swore at the same instance!! >From the back of the cabin came similar startled gasps.

Suddenly, it was if the Hand of God reached down from on High and wiped the sky out of existance. The bubbling cauldron of ionized atmospheric gases suddenly faded from view and the charred surface of the planet Quentin literally morphed before their eyes into an entirely unbeleivable scene.

Where there was once a nuclear wasteland of ash and fire, their was instead a dry, sun-bleached mesa of weather-worn rock and dust. Above them, the orange-red clouds of fiery gas similary disapeared, replaced by an empty sky of pale silver with nary a cloud in sight. "The. . .the. . .land. . . .the . .. the sky!!" Jeremy stumbled almost forgetting to steer the shuttle in his confusion. "Mind our helm Mr. Savoie!" Rebecca snapped, but from her wide-eyed expression it was easy to see that she too, was at a loss. =/\= SERENGHETI to OPAKA=/\= the com link buzzed in their ears, =/\=JEEEZUS Mary and Joseph!! . . . Do you guys see what we see!??!=/\=

"C . .clear the Com shuttle two!" Rebecca hissed, "W. . .we see it . . .. Quentin is. . .is. . ."

"CHANGED" Savoie finished for her.

And so it was. All traces of the fiery planet-wide disaster had literally vanished in the blink of an eye, only to be replaced with a dry and dusty plain of eroded rock and dead trees. The sky itself was clear and silvery yellow. . . .a sign of lack of moisture. . . .to the trained eye, but it too showed no evidence of the recent disaster. "It .. . .it happened right as we dove out of the clouds." Jeremy breathed in amazement, ans he guided OPAKA to a shaky landing atop a dusty Mesa.

"What clouds?" Rebecca asked almost in a whisper, "They're all gone."

With a gentle 'thump' the two shuttled settled down on opposite corners of the sand-pitted rock, and for long minutes the teams inside worked with internal instruments trying to make sence out of this mystery while they donned thier protective environmental suits.

Obviously this was NOT the Quentin that was destroyed by fire, but neither was it the ORIGINAL Quentin that had been a garden paradise. This place looked. . . . .old.

POP!! HSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

With a loud clap of pressure equalization the outer door to OPAKA cracked open and cycled its way open. After a brief moments pause the tan-colored Starfleet Environmental suit of Rebecca von Ernst stepped out and set foot on the rocky ground. >crunch< The silence about her was overwhelming.

A sick looking sun beat down on a weatherd plain utterly devoid of life. No animals, no insects, and no plants save some long dead tree-husks inhabited this dry and dusty land.

>crunch< The suited figure of her long time associate James Corgan stepped out behind her, a tricorder in one hand, and a phaser in the other. Other members of the team also crept out in amazement. "Bad news Rebecca." James intoned over the helmet com-link, " Sensor reading are almost nil, and tricorders are useless. "I'm only standing two meters from you, and I can barely pick you up on my scanner. . . . I cant read SERENGHETI over there at all even though I can see it 70 meters away.

"Interference?" she asked. James didnt annoy here as much as the other crewmembers did, and she felt more comfortable in his judgement even if science was not his specialty.

Corgan frowned and consulted his readings again, "Nope. . .no ionization or radiation spikes. . .. .just nothing there. . . .kinda like ghost reading or somthing. Like the tricorder's battery is low or somthing."

Rebecca nodded distantly, watching the others fan out in investigation. It was obvious they too were having tricorder problems, but she was more concerned by somthing else. "Tell me James, she asked, "Where were we scheduled to land at on Quentin? What kind of topography?"

"Topography?" he asked, "Well, we were supposed to land in the foothills of the Quentin National Mountain Range." he said, "Just West of the mountains to be exact."

"Right. . .. thats what I was afraid of." Rebecca sighed staring off towards the horizon. Following her gaze, the Security Chief tried to comprehend her thought process until. . . "HOLY F**K!! the Mountains!!" he swore. . . . ."They're. . .GONE!!"

"Not gone. . . ."Rebecca corrected with a sudden chill in her voice, ". . .eroded."

It was true. Just to the East, barely discernable against the horizon, was a range of low weather-worn hills that at first were mistaken for another Mesa. It was only when one compared them to the pre-mission briefing of Quentin, that one realized the hills was one and the same as the magnificent mountains they had expected to find.

Rebecca aglanced up at the weak looking sun, and sighed, "I think we have a problem here James. . . . .get the survey crews out and scanning. . . .if possible I want a starshot as soon as it gets dark. I want to know if the stars are where they are supposed to be."

"Fruitcake"

Capt. D.R. M'Kantu
Lt. Curtis Geluf, Chief OPS

*with thanks to Robert for helping out :)

*backpost, before current mission

It was time to dispell the mystery.

Curtis made his way to the Captain's ready room as per his orders. The new captain wanted to meet with his officers, a normal routine. Finally, though, Curtis would be able to witness just what kind of man this guy was. With any luck, he would be nothing like Brohde.

"Lieutenant Geluf, reporting as requested, sir." Curtis offered as he stepped into the room.

"Come in, Lieutenant." M'Kantu responded looking up at the young officer before him. "I'll get right to the point. I want to know about your department - any problems with staff or routine, what you plan to do about said problems, everything and anything you can think of Lieutenant."

Curtis was a bit taken back by the forwardness, but quickly found himself.

"No problems sir. My staff is top notch and if I may say so, OPS is one of the smoothest running departments on the Galaxy." Curtis said.

M'Kantu raised an eyebrow about that but didn't comment. Every department usually thought they were the best. "I had another motive for calling you in, Geluf. Tell me what you can about Lieutenant Junior Grade Krieghoff"

Curtis definitely hadn't been expecting THAT. Surely the Captain didn't already know of his pseudo-friendship with Victor? Then again...

"Lieutenant Krieghoff is an excellent and capable officer, sir, who has put his life on the line for crewmen and this ship on more than one occasion," Curtis said. It certain SOUNDED good. By 'crewmen' though of course he meant 'Ella' but he figured it wouldn't hurt to mention it.

Daren looked down at his reports. "I take it you've knowledge of his effect on other people." He kept his face neutral, still irritated about his own reaction to the man.

"Yes sir, I've heard the rumours about him. Some sort of weird aura that seems to follow him around and make people crazy. Well, I tend to not put much stock in ghost stories sir. He's a man. An unusual man, yes, but just a man. I've spent considerable time with him and I have yet to notice any feeling of fright or being uncomfortable. Seems to me he's just catching a lot of flack for being anti-social. Sir." Curtis deadpanned.

"Do you know the difference between anti-social and sociopathic, Lieutenant?" Daren asked but then waved a hand when Curtis opened his mouth to answer. "I've already had a discussion with both Lt. Krieghoff and Lt. Grey. It interests me that both you and Lt. Grey advocate the man, while he himself doesn't seem to care one way or the other." Daren sighed. "I'll be honest, Geluf. I'm a click away from transferring him. Can you give me a good enough reason not to?"

"Dedication sir." Curtis said without hesitation. "Victor is dedicated enough to Starfleet to accept all these transfers without a fuss. His feeling is that whatever is best for Starfleet is what he should do. If you decide to transfer him he will go because he will believe it is for the best. Victor is dedicated to his job and his duty to the fleet, sir. An officer like that would be a shame to lose."

"But is dedication enough of a reason?" Daren leaned forward. "I've read his file, looked at the attendant reports filed by every commander and counselor at every duty station he's served at - the man leaves a trail of violence and death behind him that a Klingon would envy, and he does it with a calm hat a Vulcan would find unnerving. He's a ticking bomb, Geluf, and I don't want him detonating on my ship and killing the crew I'm charged with safeguarding. I need a compelling reason to keep him, and neither the man himself, nor Lt. Grey, could offer me one that overrode my concerns. That's what I'm looking for."

"I'm afraid I haven't got one, sir." Curtis replied, defeated, "All I can say is that in all the places Victor has served, people were quick to want him gone. Afraid of the very same thing you are, sir, that he might explode at any moment and they didn't want to deal with that. He's been passed around places more times than my mother's Christmas fruitcake. And I guess the only thing I can say is that he hasn't exploded. Everyone expects him too, and yet he hasn't. If that's not enough, then I don't know what else can be said."

"I appreciate your honesty, Lieutenant." Daren replied, still unsure of how he was going to act on this occaision. "Is there anything that you would like to bring up now about Ops?"

"Nothing, sir." Curtis said, "OPS is running smoothly. I've got a good team. Wouldn't trade 'em for any other on the ship."

"Good," M'Kantu nodded. Usually there were complaints about someone in the department, but if Geluf was willing to stand by all his men, that meant that he was either a good officer or had a good department - or both. "Glad to hear it, Lieutenant. We'll be seeing enough of each other on a day-to-day basis that anything else can be covered when it comes up." He stood. "I've taken up enough of your time, though.

Curtis nodded, "Sir." and exited the room.

OOC: With a few bits from "Shuttle Ride To... Where?" + Minor adjustments! :)

Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder Chief Engineer

"Always One For The Ride"

Ethan felt a little tired. He had been trying to fix the ship as quickly as possible, get main power online and restore all primary systems as per his orders. But now he had been called to be on the Away mission. Was it his silence in the Conference Room, his notes here and there about peoples attitude that had made him assigned to this duty? He sighed and shook his head, almost chuckling. The last meeting had seemed to be one with kids. Everyone whining to go on the Away Mission. Suder rolled his eyes. Then his thoughts went on to the remarks of First Officer, "Fortunately for us, none of the really important people are going to be out of action with the exception of one of our prime Phaser Chiefs who lost a leg at the knee..." ~Heartless Bitch~ Ethan cursed in his head as he watched the others board the shuttle SERENGHETI. Everyone on the Galaxy was important, they did a particular job. In fact, if most people were so damned unimportant and expendible, why not just transfer them somewhere else, or send them all on the Away Mission to take the risk and maybe die?

The shuttle slowly began drifting off the deck and following the Opaka out. He gazed at the Galaxy as the shuttle left the ship. The further they got, the worse the ship seemed. He was really not getting along with the design of the ship. The original Galaxy class design had been bad enough, but this, this was just over the top. Only some Top-Snot at Starfleet could come up with something like this. What happened to the originality like the Defiant class, the Excelsior class? Oh he missed the Excelsior class. It was smooth, efficient, organised and looked bloody good. The Ambassador was just as bad as the Galaxy class, the only latest ship design he liked were the drawings he had worked with during his time on Earth for the Defender class. Now there was a ship...

=/\= Altering course 45 degrees hard starboard! SERENGHETI, match course change! =/\= the yelling order to screaming across the comm. Ethan got out of his seat and stood next to the pilot, observing the new view. What seemed like a few seconds he was viewing the Galaxy, now they were on their way down to the surface of the planet. Oh this was going to be fun. Maybe he was out of date. He hadn't been on an Away Mission for a long time. He turned his head and looked at the team behind him, eager and ready to go.

"SERENGHETI to OPAKA," the pilot called out., "JEEEZUS Mary and Joseph!! . . . Do you guys see what we see!??!"

Ethan frowned and glared at the pilot. What the hell was with the name calling? Mary.... Joseph? Someone he knew? Ethan shook his head and dismissed the situation and focused on the view. He heard the great First Officer mutter something across the comm. He imagined himself telling everyone to get ready for what was out there, to just be calm, oh and remember everyone, you're all as important as each other, even up to the Captain, don't let anyone tell you otherwise... Maybe at that moment he could glare at the First Officer. Not that he had a problem with her, just her choice of words during the meeting.

"Ok, people," Ethan began, "you know the drill." He rested his hand on his tricorder and made his way to the back of the shuttle, ready to get out the moment the door opened.

The doors slowly opened up to display what used to be Quentin. There was nothing left. He quickly stpped out and the others followed. He was glad to be on the ground again. The shuttle ride had been a little bumpy, but there was a good pilot at the helm. He had faith in everyone with him, they would fine. "Spread out." he ordered as he grabbed his tricorder and tried to make sense of it. It wasn't picking up anything. Not even the Opaka and crew. He examined his tricorder, it was working fine, just not really picking up anything. He slowly began walking around, monitoring the scene. What a tragedy...

Dr. Janelle Reynolds CMO

Dr. Reynolds was informed that she was indeed going on the away mission. She really didn't think that they would take her up on it but they did including Dr. Fienberg. She figured that it was better with all the dead on the planet. She got together two medkits and a few extra items so they could do autopsies or treat the away team for burns, broken bones and who knows what else if it was as bad as it was expected to be.

By the time she got there, Klaus was already there. She handed him one of the medkits she put together. They had two choices of shuttles. Dr. Reynolds chose the Opaka because it was much easier to pronounce . She got in and got seated, not knowing what lies ahead.

The shuttle ride was somewhat scary but at the same time, exciting. It almost felt as if she was on one of those amusement rides on Delphia IV. It was a fanstastic fire and light show but she would have rather not been in it. Once they finally did land, it wasn't what anyone expected. She could hear the crew in the front of the shuttle talking about sky and land disappearing or something. She couldn't make out what they were saying because of the frantic voices ahead of her. Something though was wrong and no one was trying to hide their feeling right now.

Janelle hated wearing the environmental suits. They were claustrophobic and uncomfortable...confining monkey suits. She put on the whole gettup and waited to exit the shuttle. Once they stepped foot out the shuttle, no one knew what had happened. It was as if the pklanet had aged a hundred years or more. She heard someone say that even the hills disappeared or more like eroded or something.

Janelle wondered if maybe they could have time travelled or something. She was only a doctor. She'd leave this to those who were qualified in that area of expertise. Janelle stood with the others awaiting instructions. Obviously, there were no dead people...there wasn't anything...not that she could see anything.

"Signs of Improvement"

(Takes place before 'First First Contact')

Principal Characters:

Captain Daren R. M'Kantu
Ensign Kira Murphy

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Captain's Ready Room

Daren looked at who was next on the schedule and frowned slightly. He told the yeoman to let the ensign in while he looked over her file once again. "Can you think of any reason I shouldn't kick you off my ship?" he asked the Elysian before she even sat down.

"Umm.. Oh, Because Starfleet has been roped into giving me a second chance?"

"Hacking into computers, numerous practical jokes, something about a skunk... Ensign, I'm a fairly tolerant man but this kind of behavior doesn't sit well with me. There will be no warnings, no slaps on the wrists. The first time I catch you, it's the brig for two months and after that it's a transfer to somewhere unpleasant. Do you fully understand, Ensign Murphy?"

"Yes, sir. Does that count if Fluffy gets loose and someone in Security gets sprayed because they don't know how to handle a skunk?"

M'Kantu sighed. "Ensign, I am not your father. That's not my job. Do us both the favor of not trying to treat me as if I were." He shook his head. "If the animal is still capable of defending itself in the manner you describe, you have three choices. One, have what I assume to be minor surgery done to remove that capacity. Two, ensure that it does not escape. Three, have it secured in the zoology labs and visit it there. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry."

Daren nodded. "I personally would prefer that you choose the second option, Ensign. That requires the most initiative and responsibility from you, both characteristics that Starfleet and I find desirable in officers, and both characteristics that your evaluations and file suggest you need to work at. If you choose to select that option, I don't want to be disappointed. Are we clear on that?"

"Crystal clear, Sir.. Like a bear with its head stuck in a bee's nest. I will try my best to be responsible."

"Good." He nodded. "I do not expect my officers to be deathly severe and serious at all times, Ensign. That's both foolish and bad for morale. I do expect that they understand the difference between appropriate humor and inappropriate humor. Can you tell me the difference?"

"Sir, if you look at my record again, you will find that is another thing I need to work on. My time in New Zealand penal colony has helped but I need to improve more. However, I can tell you that I am going to try hard to be a good girl."

"I've read your record, Ensign. What I want to know is what you think the difference between appropriate and inappropriate humor is at this point," M'Kantu replied. "What you may think the difference is in six months doesn't have a bearing on where you are right now."

"Hmm.. Inappropriate humor could be something like yelling 'Spider' on the bridge during combat. Appropriate humor could be like using a sock puppet to distract a hurt child."

M'Kantu nodded. It was a better answer than he'd expected. "All right, Ensign. Now can you tell me why the difference between the two has eluded you in the past?"

"I am still trying to work on that, sir. But the counselors say I am progressing very well. One of the reasons I was allowed out is that they said I have improved."

M'Kantu shook his head. "I didn't ask what they think, Ensign, I want to know what *you* think. They're not serving on my ship, you are."

Kira gulped, "Honestly, Captain, I am not sure. I think Starfleet was forced into letting me and a bunch of other disreputable people who came from Gemworld free in exchange for scientific information. Personally, I think Starfleet got gypped on the deal too. I can say that I will be trying my best from now on. Sir."

M'Kantu nodded. "I don't the Federation was 'gypped', Ensign. That would imply that you were either incompetent, or dangerous, and I see no indications that either of those is true. Undisciplined, perhaps, but that's nothing that can't be attended to in good time. Just give me your best effort - and keep one eye on the skunk - and you should do yourself and your homeworld proud," he nodded. "Now that's done, are there any questions you have for me?"

"Yes, Sir, I will do that. No, I don't have any questions for you, Captain."

"Very well then, Ensign," he stood and nodded. "I'll let you get back to work then."

Smiling, she stood up and saluted, "Yes, Captain. Good day."

With that, she turned and left the room.

“Conducting Repairs To Holograms.”

Michael Nicholas-Henderson had been taken into the medical bay and had been released from the custody of the nurses. However then the medical holograms had begun to malfunction and since the medical personnel were overwhelmed with patients then he had offered to conduct repairs to the holographic emitters.

The only problem with this interesting task was that the fact that he had graduated from the Daystrom Institution with a holographic engineering degree was not helping with the task for all of the holographic emitters had been very badly damaged. He glanced at a screen. It appeared that valuable power was being routed to the tactical systems by the order of Sub-Commander Savar. He knew that it would be intimidating to talk to a Romulan this early but he had no choice. Lives might be lost and so then he walked out of the medical bay and into a turbolift.

"Time Enough And Time" Part 1 of 2

(Occurs after 'Only A Key Away' and before 'First First Contact')

Principal Characters:

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lt. Commander James Corgan

****

USS Galaxy
Bridge
Captain's Ready Room

This wasn't getting him anywhere. Daren closed the LCARS window and leaned back in his chair. The Galaxy's departments were in shambles due to the extreme number of transfers in the last few months, the ship itself was still undergoing difficulties integrating all of the systems and experimental additions that the ASDB had ladled on top of the primary designer, Jebediah Quick's, own experimental designs, and just over half the crew had been aboard her for less than four months. He sighed. Taking the Galaxy had been a risk, he'd known that when he was offered her - but he hadn't turned away from risks when Starfleet needed him in the past, and he wasn't going to do it now.

What it was time for now, though, was something that he *could* affect. He couldn't do anything about the ship's systems, he couldn't give the crew a lifetime's experience in working with each other, he couldn't even get the replicator in his Ready Room to deliver his coffee the way he wanted it - but he *could* talk to his officers... and Allah knew there were enough of them left he hadn't spoken to.

A quick glance at his LCARS screen and he had the officer of the moment selected. "M'Kantu to Corgan. Report to my Ready Room as soon as it's convenient please."

He had a lot of questions for Commander Corgan.

****

And James Corgan had a few questions of his own for Captain M'Kantu.

Problem was, he couldn't sort out what questions he should ask. James thought over and over the various questions he would try, and when to introduce him. Going over a conversation was a habit of his, and prevented himself from being tripped up by a question, or left without a word to say. It was much harder without knowing M'Kantu. His habits, his attitude towards sub-ordinates, his temperament, any other personal factors determined reactions and questions. And since Corgan didn't know M'Kantu personally....

~"I'm... f**ked."~ James concluded. Bhrode was easy. Angry was his miscellaneous reaction. Pissed off was his personality. Vinegar was not only a pleasant garnish to him, but also 9/10th's of his blood supply. But M'Kantu was a different animal. Maybe he was... rational?

A Starfleet captain? Rational? Sure, and Klingons also prefer to make love softly and slowly.

The Chief of security rang the doorbell, as the bridge staff watched. Most times, James Corgan was a great source of gossip, and an interesting person to watch when one could catch him in one of his more unlucky moments (trust the narrarator when he says there are MANY such tales). It was apparent as most of the bridge crew was watching him with their eyes and reading him with their minds. Were they thinking o fhow James will walk into yet another trap? Make an ass of himself again with his opinionated style and his mean streak as long as a milky way stream?

=/\="Come in."= /\= M'Kantu crackled a disembodied voice over the speaker.

The bridge crew was about to find out.

James stepped through the doors and into the Captain's Ready Room. Unpacked from Bhrode's departure, James thought the room looked absolutely bare (since Bhrode had a utilitarian approach to his room decor, that was saying much). What decorated the Captain's office was storage crates. A dozen storage crates, in plastic blues and grays.

Then there was M'Kantu himself. He was black, yet lacking the tan of a planetborn civilian. His eyes were deep and intelligent, backing down enough to leave him at ease, yet stern enough to quash any slips indiscipline. His position on the chair spoke of confidence, and unfamiliarity (it happens when someone else sits in Bhrode's ass groove). Four brass pips, fresh with Pipshine, shone on a collar of red, which itself was suppressed by stifling black and gray. He looked akin to a general, tired, yet not defeated and ready to fight.

"Sir." James saluted, back straight, hand snapping, feet pointed forward. It was the standard 'security greeting' of subservience and diligence. "I came as requested, sir."

"At ease, Commander, this isn't an inquisition, just a meeting." M'Kantu waved to one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Have a seat and let's get started."

"Aye, sir." James folded his arms behind his back and took a wider stance, then lowered himself into the opposing chair. He was now in the hot seat. From there on in, James was in unfamiliar territory. ~"Jesus Bloody Christ... what am I going to do? Can't start a conversation worth a crap, and I don't know what kind of business he wants to talk about. Well... I told him I came at his request. I'll let him start off instead of giving everything away and risking slipping up."~

M'Kantu looked at him for a moment, then nodded and said, "I've got number of things to go over with you, but I prefer to let my officers go first in meetings like this. Are there any questions that *you* have before we get started? Any issues that you'd like to bring up and talk about before I get started? Personnel, personal expectations, security issues?" He leaned back and gave James a moment to gather his thoughts.

~"Huh?"~

James hid his befuddlement well. Though he wanted to double check his own personal logs in his head, it sounded as if the Captain actually WANTED to listen to his ideas. He had plenty. A year with Bhrode was enough to undermine the smooth running of a department for decades to come. And this Captain was willing to listen to them all? What was next, he would actually solve them?

Corgan smiled, "I have a few, sir."

"Then let's get started, Commander."

"First, I have noticed that the presence of the marines has undermined some of the work our security party has undergone. Some of their duties steps into the jurisdiction of our duties, such as away mission protocol, supplies and weapons, our role on the ship, and so on and so forth. Don't get me wrong, the marines have a duty, their exercise regiments whipped myself and the security department in the best shape of their lives, and they have found a good niche on this ship, but the security department and myself feels that it is limiting our effectiveness. So, I was thinking that we could open a dialogue with the chief of the marine detachment and try to hammer out a few issues." It was James' first issue. It was about time someone helped him with that issue, and he was sick of Sergeant Major Goldstein.

That was actually near the top of Daren's own list of issues, M'Kantu noted. At least his Security Chief had his eye on something besides as hot at the Command Seat. "I don't know that we can solve that one overnight, Commander, especially with the transfer of most of the Marine Command Staff off-ship with Captain Bhrode. At the moment, our ranking officer is Lieutenant Valhoun, and he's got his hands full right now keeping his head above water. I'd encourage you to talk to him though, and try to open some lines of communication. I do want you to reach an accommodation with the new Marine CO once one transfers aboard, but I can't tell you when they will be arriving. A certain amount of inter-departmental rivalry is a good thing, it helps keep people sharp, but I want it kept to reasonable levels." He tagged the item as 'discussed' on his LCARS panel. "Continuance of the enhanced physical training program is at your discretion, though, Commander." He nodded for James to continue.

"Secondly, Leo Streely." He mentioned with a hint of cat like cruelty and satisfaction, "He was assigned as a security deputy because he went up to Starfleet and asked them to... repeatedly. He's an incompetent boob, and I swear he has a crush on Lieutenant Commander Darkstar, to say it nicely. I'd be doing my department and the human race a favor if he was gone."

M'Kantu frowned. "I'm afraid that I can't help you with that one, Commander. Mr. Streeley's assignment to the Galaxy was handled at the highest levels, and until he decides to depart on his own, he's a member of the crew." He gestured apologetically. "Starfleet Captains have their limitations, too, Commander. Is there anything else?"

James frowned. He was hoping to get rid of the little turd before he single handedly ruined his department, but he couldn't expect the Captain to perform miracles. "Lastly, the security system has had bugs since we launched, and it should have been fixed. If engineering couldn't take care of it by now, I think a little time at a Starbase or a dock should iron out the bugs."

"At the moment, dock-time is out of my hands, Commander. I share your concerns about the internal monitoring system, though. I suggest that you and Commander Suder get together and see what you can do about getting it back online or developing a stop-gap measure to cover for it until the opportunity presents itself to spend some time in dock." He checked that item off as well. "Anything more, Commander?"

"As for personal expectations... what else can I say that you haven't heard from a thousand sycophants before? I'm going to do my job the best I can, and I'll fight for my department and this ship if I have to, be it an inquiry board or a LZ."

"I would expect nothing less from one of my officers, Commander," M'Kantu nodded.

James paused awkwardly. He half expected these issues to be a trap. The classic 'godfather' trap, where asking for a favor meant owing a greater favor in return. Or there was the 'complain and get it' trap, where his issues gave M'Kantu a reason to scream him stupid. That was the risk, and James couldn't go back. "That's the gist of it, sir."

"All right," the older man replied, leaning back forward. "If you think of something else later on, my door is open." He drew a PADD to him and skimmed down it. "Most of the things I need to talk over with you are personnel issues, but there's one issue outside that we need to go over first: weapons control." He set the PADD down. "To be precise, the possession of personal weapons caches by individual members of the crew. In looking at the ship's logs, I see that even though John Q. ordered a door-to-door collection the number of weapons gathered up fell below the expected number in possession of the crew by a fair margin." He leaned back again and steepled his fingers. "What are your thoughts on the situation?"

James replied, "That was a touchy subject, sir. We had to find a balance between the rights of the individuals, search and seizure protocol, and the nature of the weapons. Since we cannot seize property without a proper search warrant, and we can't get the warrant because there is technically no crime to implement the entire crew... we had to depend on the honesty of this crew. However, we asked crewmembers to send items classified as weapons either to security to be recycled, or to be stored off ship, which could have contributed to the overestimation of our seizure predictions. Truthfully, I'd like to give it another try. Send out clear protocols to the entire crew about what kind of weapons and items will be banned on ship... without being as strict as say...banning kitchen knives. Ask them to store the weapons or give them up. Then do a door to door again. But I do have one concern that a friend of mine brought up about this."

"Time Enough And Time" Part 2 of 2

(Occurs after 'Only A Key Away' and before 'First First Contact')

Principal Characters:

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lt. Commander James Corgan

****

USS Galaxy
Bridge
Captain's Ready Room

"Which is?"

"The Archeology department usually studies primitive weapons. Knives, spears, swords, that sort of thing. Since the ban, Archeology can't inspect weapons from other civilizations. I was hoping to give some leniency for such cases, such as Engineering and Archeology to study weapons and perhaps store them in their departments."

"Within reason - and I stress that last word - I see no reason to penalize either department in this regard, Commander. If you will review and sign off on the methods used to secure the weapons, then I see no issue there."

"You'll have the report in the morning, sir." James replied.

"Also within reason I see no need to penalize individuals who have an honest interest in collecting artifacts of a military nature. I do, however, fail to see the need for any individual to possess personal energy weapons, explosives, or..." he looked at the PADD again, "high velocity chemically-propelled projectile weapons in their quarters. If their ownership of said items withstands scrutiny, then they may secure them in the armory until such time as they may legitimately check them out in case of transfer, discharge, or other legal purpose. I most definitely see no need for them to carry such items on their person aboard ship in defiance of regulations."

"Quite easy to find those, sir. Just have to scan for certain elements... once the security sensors are fixed." James groaned, "So all I can depend on now is honesty and searches. However, I see no reason to have any firearms unless one was on duty, so I'll work on the next round of seizures right away."

"That will be satisfactory, Commander. Just keep me updated."

"Sir?" James asked, "I have a question. Permission to speak freely?"

Someone always wanted to ask a question off the record. Usually they were nothing that couldn't have stayed *on* the record, but there was always the one question that shouldn't. Daren wondered which this was going to be. "Go ahead, Commander."

"Why are you here?"

Well, it was different, anyway. Daren wondered for just a moment if all his security personnel were the types that would say things he didn't expect. "In what sense do you mean that, Commander?"

"Stop me if I overstep my bounds, but my department doesn't have a clue as to why you replaced Bhrode, and neither do I. If you can, we would like to know what the hell is going on and why you replaced Bhrode."

"Fleet Captain Bhrode's reasons for departing were his own, Commander, I can't speak to those. As for my reason for being here, Starfleet offered me the position and I accepted." He looked at Corgan for a second. "But that isn't really what you're asking, is it, Commander?"

"Not really, sir." James confessed, "Bhrode's... method of command had a habit of stepping on people's toes. His dismissal might be politically involved... or I might be going paranoid. Either way, it seems suspicious."

"All right, Commander. If you want to know the exact reason I was picked, you'll have to ask the Selection Board that offered me this position, but I'm willing to tell you why *I* think I was offered the position - if that's what you want?" He looked at Corgan expectantly.

James replied, "Whatever can be offered, sir."

"My opinion, Commander, that's all I have to give." Daren had wondered why none of the Admirals on the board asked him this, and finally decided that they'd all known what he'd say because it was the truth. "I believe I was offered the post because I was the candidate with the requisite credentials that offended the two factions controlling the Selection Board the least." He shook his head. "An odd reason to be offered the Federation flagship, but their reasons aren't really an issue as far as I'm concerned - doing the best job I can for the Federation is. If that means I have to be a warrior, then I'll be a warrior, if that means I need to be a diplomat, then I'm a diplomat. Simple as that."

James pondered this for a second, then said, "Sounds reasonable to me, sir." The answer didn't surprise him the least, because such answers Admirals were not willing to admit. He paused, until it was awkward to pause further, "That's all I wanted to know, sir. Is there anything else you would like from my department and I?"

"I do have some personnel issues I think we need to go over, Commander," M'Kantu nodded. "First off, the command structure in the department. With the transfer of your second off-ship with Captain Bhrode, the department needs someone in that position. I'd rather promote someone to the position from within the ranks than transfer in yet another person if at all possible, it's better for morale and unit cohesiveness. Have you got anyone that can fill the position?"

"Lieutenant Krieghoff is my closest bet, sir." James yelped, surprised. Though Krieghoff was a prime choice for the position, James also knew that Krieghoff tended to be a bit selfish in his actions, and didn't work well with the other officers. Krieghoff was still extremely capable. He was tough in combat, and intelligent everywhere else. If James could get Krieghoff to work in a team, it would be no contest.

M'Kantu frowned. "Would you please explain your reasoning, Commander? I've got Lieutenant Krieghoff's file here," he indicated a PADD, "and while it indicates a great many things about the man, the possibility that he's capable of command responsibility isn't one of them." He leaned forward. "I've met with him already, and, frankly, my initial inclination is to transfer him off the ship before he kills someone."

"Well sir... he is *interesting* to say the least, but I've seen leadership qualities in the man that are seriously underestimated by anyone else. Despite his... flaws, he has been successful on my staff time and time again. And once or twice... he's even talked some sense into me." James itinerated, much to his shock, "Happens to people from the war, who's been in the trenches for too long, sir. I mean, look at my record. Post traumatic stress disorder, manic depression, paranoia, and that's just my personal stuff. What about the hellholes I've been into? Dominion War, two engagements with the Borg, the Bajoran embassy incident... I've seen as much, if not more, combat than he has. And you think Krieghoff is screwed up? I've been through hell myself, yet somehow I seem to resemble something somewhat normal and I've managed to lead two departments on separate occasions. He just needs to get some training in a leadership role, that's all."

"Commander," M'Kantu said skeptically. "I've read your file too - and your issues are nothing like the Lieutenant's. What has happened to you, was, for the most part, the result of situations you found yourself in and had to deal with. The Lieutenant hasn't found himself in situations like that, because he *is* a situation like that - nothing the man does affects him; it's the people around him that have to pay the piper. Is that really the sort of individual that you want leading your department if something happens to you?"

"There is Ahdinja D'Tinya." James confessed, "She's not as skilled on the security end as Krieghoff, but she does have a more personal touch. However, compared to your average officer she is still somewhat of a loner. Frankly, if you want a people person whom also has their head on their shoulders, you might have to look outside the ship." The chief of security paused. The lightbulb over his head clicked, "Unless... I give them both an evaluation period. A week or two, give them more responsibility, see how well they both deal with people in the department. Then see who does the better job."

"If that's what you want to do, Commander - Security is your department. But," M'Kantu cautioned, "keep in mind that Lieutenant Krieghoff will quite likely be transferring off this ship as soon as we finish this mission." He paused. "You might also want to consider the feelings of your other officers. I know that there is at least one Lieutenant," he checked his PADD, "Shelley O'Rourke, who outranks both of the individuals you've named. I suggest that you consider her feelings on being passed over like this."

"Whatever you want, sir." James replied, "I'll have it done."

"No, Commander, that's not how I operate. Security is your department, you run it. It only becomes *my* problem when you can't keep it running smoothly." M'Kantu leaned forward. "I don't like having to step in and manage my senior officer's departments for them, Commander. That implies that they're not capable of doing so themselves, and that makes me want to reconsider the department head's ability." He leaned back." Are we clear on that one?"

"Yes sir." James wanted to sigh. Shelly O'Rourke was also a good candidate, but she tended to be afraid to step up, and avoided responsibility and leadership like the plague (ironic, since it followed her around doggedly). "I'll have my decision within a week."

His mind thought of other things, ~"Krieghoff's transferring? Why didn't I Know about that?"~

"That should be ample time, Commander," M'Kantu nodded. "The only other item I have to discuss at the moment is the security plan for the Romulan Ambassador while he's aboard. I checked, but there wasn't one on file - I assume you did it that way for security reasons?"

"Hidden and encrypted, sir, and it's not on any hardware connected to the ship's computer network." James explained, "And on top of my security plans for the Ambassador, the Romulan representative also has his own security arrangements which he has kept me in the dark. I can tell you that there is security posted with him 24/7, with guards at the outside of his quarters and an escort with him in sensitive areas. We also have to keep a wide berth since technically... the Romulans are not our enemies anymore, and it would be unreasonable to deny him any privacy."

"Understood, and acceptable, Commander. When you get a chance, I'd like you to go over your plans with me, and I'll speak to the Ambassador about his own arrangements when I meet with him. I'll see what I can pry free to keep you from being ambushed by them if the worst happens and something goes wrong." M'Kantu shrugged. "I doubt he'll give me anything definite, but Allah moves in mysterious ways."

"You can count on it sir." James agreed, "Romulans are secretive, and it's not unheard of for Ambassadors to have protection provided by the Tal'Shiar. That's why my precautions are as tight as they are on him." He raised an eyebrow and thought to himself, off topic but interested, ~"Allah's a rather archaic remark. Mother would have known what it meant... she was a religious one as well. At least, I think it had something to do with religion."~

"Then it sounds like you have things as under control as they're going to get, Commander," M'Kantu nodded.

"Sir, if there is nothing further, I should be getting back to work." James bowed out, "It was nice to talk to you, sir, and hopefully we can do it again sometime."

M'Kantu stood and offered a hand to Corgan. "My door is always open, Commander. Just try to keep the 0300 visits down to a minimum if you can - I'm afraid I can be a bit cranky that early in the morning."

"Oh yeah?" James joked as he walked to the exit, "You should see what happens to me when the sh*t hits the fan. I'll keep the late night ethical dilemmas down to a minimum, sir. Again... thanks." He calmly, briskly walked out of the door.

M'Kantu waited for a moment, and then allowed himself a smile as he turned back to his desk. Not so bad after all. Actually no one - except Lieutenant Krieghoff - had been as bad as the warnings he'd received from people in the Admiralty after accepting the position as the Galaxy's captain. There were people with problems and people that lacked the confidence in their abilities - but he'd seen all of those before. None of them were things that couldn't be worked out over time.

He stopped smiling as he sat down and looked at the slow but steady stream of messages arriving on his LCARS screen. He just had to hope that the galaxy would give him - and its namesake - the time.

"Addressing the Exec"

(Occurs before 'First First Contact')

Principal Characters:

Captain Daren M'Kantu (Robert)
Commander Rebecca Von Ernst (Chris)

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Captain's Ready Room

"Commander Rebecca von Ernst reporting as ordered sir... Welcome to the USS Galaxy."

The tiny redhead came to attention before Captain Daren M'Kantu's desk ready for her first meeting with the New Galaxy CO. This was her third Captain onboard the Galaxy, having survived Price, and Brhode before... but if she held any misgivings over the newcomer it was not evident in her greeting.

As a matter of fact ... no emotion of ANY kind was evident on her hard featured expression. Rebecca's backbone was the picture-perfect image of a 'parade-ground' stance, and her thin-boned shoulders were squared neatly enough to do any drill sergeant proud. The tight black and grey uniform was obviously freshly replicated, and the burnished pips at her neck glowed like three golden suns.

There was something wrong with her eyes however. They seemed a little... off.

Normally one would expect the typical 1000-yard stare of intensity in someone at attention, but to M'Kantu it seemed that the young XO's deep brown eyes were a little... unfocused. They did not actually waver or wander about, and the Captain could not really put his finger on what was odd about them. It seemed as if she were distracted in some way. As if there were 1,000 little wheels turning inside her head, and that's where her attention truly lay.

Daren returned the salute and nodded to the chairs placed opposite his desk. "Please, sit down, Commander." He wondered what she'd say to that. Her file was contradictory, one minute talking about a precision, machine and the next a young girl, sometimes in the same sentence. She was supposed to be one of the finest tactical minds in the Fleet, but looking at her he felt a bit guilty at the thought of asking the young woman in front of him to exercise her talent for dealing death on his behalf. With any luck he'd not have to, but.... Daren sighed internally. He hadn't been that lucky recently. Combat was a fact of life in Starfleet, and his opinion on whether it was necessary or not was rarely consulted by all involved parties.

With a light hop, Rebecca boosted her small frame up into the offered chair. She perched neatly on the edge balancing her tip-toes on the floor before her. Her attention however shifted from 'a spot on the wall' and instead she locked her gaze on M'Kantu himself. She remained quiet however preferring to allow the captain to decide if he needed a bit of information or not at which point she would then supply it.

Her eyebrows raised slightly as if in expectation.

"I like to try and keep my meetings with my Senior Staff informal Commander," Daren offered. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" It was a standard opening, and Daren was aware that she'd know it as well as he did, but what they chose to answer was often more telling that way.

"Class of '74 sir," she answered quickly figuring he wanted the basics. "Emphasis on Theoretical Mathematics and Irrational Equations." Her voice was a soft barely audible whisper that seemed to float slowly across the Captain's desk.

Interesting, but not unexpected, he decided. She had every reason to be proud of her record. "What about where you're from?" he asked, hoping for a less clinical answer.

The rigid gaze broke for a moment at the mention of home..."I... I'm from Minnesota." she said and then paused a moment to think. "It's on Earth," she added in case he didn't know.

"I am too, Commander," Daren smiled. Von Ernst seemed too young to hold her rank when she spoke, more like a young girl just entering school than the terror of the Advanced Tactical Program. "Dar-es-salaam, in Tanzania, on the eastern coast of Africa."

"I see." Rebecca replied simply, and Daren wondered what the heck that meant. For herself Rebecca was wondering if Tanzania was the same place that little spinning cartoon monster was from she used to watch on tri-vid as a child.

He looked at her for a moment more, waiting to see if Von Ernst would volunteer any more, and, when it appeared she wouldn't, said, "What's your opinion on the crew, Commander? Be honest, I need your opinion."

"The Crew?" M'Kantu actually saw a hint of emotion with that response. "Frankly sir, the 'crew' of the Galaxy are... well... actually a rather bewildering sort of people."

"Bewildering how?" Daren leaned forward slightly, interested in her evaluation.

"Well..." Rebecca paused and actually scanned the small room as if for inspiration. She decided bluntness was the best course. She wasnt smart enough for subtlty "It's almost as if Starfleet BuPers had drug the bottom of the barrel in search of the most unprofessional, maladjusted, sociopathic personalities in all the Federation and dumped them all on Galaxy." she said in a huff.

She continued, "We have Doctors that actually derive joy from insulting and threatening their patients... we have several crewmembers who run about the hallways in no clothes, and one of the crews favorite pastimes is hacking into the main computer to reprogram replicators, or transporters and such."

Daren nodded. "I've got plans to speak to several of the individuals that raised the most flags when I ordered a check of the personnel database. I'm willing to tolerate a certain amount of eccentricity, but not at the expense of efficiency, discipline, or especially lives."

"Its not just pranks sir, several members of the crew are habitually insubordinate... W... w... we had an Engineer once who r.. r... refused to obey any orders at all and..." Rebecca let that memory trail off. Nilani Kahn was still a sore subject two years after the fact. "Many of our crewmembers have multiple personalities, or hear voices in their heads, or have hair-trigger tempers which threaten all those around them." Rebecca shrugged. "I don't know how else to describe it."

"I think that sums up the files I've read so far nicely enough, Commander," Daren nodded. "I apologize if the next question is a bit personal, but I need to know the answer to understand how you evaluate others." He paused, almost moved on without asking the question he'd intended, but decided to ask anyway when she met his eyes. "How would you rate yourself? Are you one of those crewmen you just mentioned?"

"M... M... me?" A faint blush rose in Rebecca's freckled cheeks. "W... why no sir... I'm the worst one." she paused, and the blush and all hint of emotion quickly drained from her face. "But I'm also the best you'll ever find." she said in deadly seriousness that seemed to drain the room of warmth.

Daren blinked, the suddenness of Rebecca's transformation startling. While he'd had trouble believing the shy girl he'd been speaking to was the woman referred to as 'The Ice Queen' in coffee table chats by graduates of the Wolf 359 Tactical School, the individual that sat in front of him now was another thing entirely. "Why would you say that, Commander?" he asked curiously.

Rebecca wondered if he was asking why she was the 'worst one' or why she was the 'best.' She decided to address both questions at once. "Sir," she began, leaning forward slightly as if she was about to confide some great secret. "Look. . .uh...I. . uh I'm not really such a great cantidate for Executive Officer actually." Rebecca lowered her gaze for the first time and studied her hands sitting limply in her lap. "An Xo needs to be. . .uh. . . .nice and all that. . .a 'people-person' and uh. . . . .well I really kinda stink at dealing with people." She inclined her head towards the file sitting on the Captain's desk. "You . . .uh. . .may have read in my file that I am undergoing Mandatory Psychological treatment with Commander Dallas who has diagnosed me with. . . .uh. . .'having problems forming relationships.'"

The young girl actually blushed as if she had stated somthing totally obvious, like 'Klingons dont like to take baths'

"Really sir, I'm just a stupid little girl who is good with numbers and stuff.. . . . I am also pretty handy shuffling paperwork. . . on account that I have a pretty good memory and it lets me avoid dealing with real people and stuff."

She sighed and looked back at her hands. "Buuuuuuuut the real reason I'm here is that I can blow the noodles out of anybody at starship combat sims, and some futzy old admirals thought it would be good to make me a Captain and all. . . . . .. well on account that all the old ones died in the Dominion War Thingie. "

She scratched her nose and shrugged. "Im really just her to look dumb unless you need somthing to blow up. Oh and eventually they're gonna get rid of you and stick me in the Captain's chair." She paused. "I guess thats about it."

Actually it was more than he'd expected. Pleasantly more, actually. "I think you're exaggerating a little, Commander, but that's all right," Daren added mildly. "Just so we're straight, Commander, I don't believe that all you're capable of is excellence at tactical sims and 'looking dumb.' My job is to show you that you're wrong about that, so that when the day comes and you're sitting in this chair, you'll be able to do the job as well as I know you can." He smiled, genuinely, if briefly. "Because then it'll be your turn to be teaching someone that they're better than they think they are."

This reply annoyed Rebecca. It seemd like M'Kantu was going to be another grinning idiot who assumed she gave a soggy noodle about her career and starfleet in general. She was going to make Captain before she was 30 because. . . .dang it. . . .the powers that be were stacking the deck to make sure that happened in spite of her.

"Whatever sir." she said, her eyes narrowing in distaste. "Any directives from you concerning day to day affairs or how you want me to run the ship and crew?"

That was odd, Daren thought, studying her reaction. He'd seen many things cross people's faces when talking about promotion and their future in Starfleet, but rarely a lack of concern that bordered on active dislike. Maybe he had more work cut out for him than he'd thought from reading her file. "I don't like to issue directives, Commander," he told her, "unless something isn't working. At the moment, I haven't seen anything to tell me that your performance requires such a step." He paused. "But I don't see everything, no one person can. Is there some problem that you would *like* direction on?"

Rebecca stood as if to leave by way of answer and resumed her rigid posture. "Absolutely not sir." she replied. "I will handle the crew myself and keep them out of your hair. They will be available to follow any and all of your orders without hesitation. This I can assure you."

Her attitude was such that it seemed that she assumed the meeting was over.

"Very good, Number One," he replied, using the older form of address for a ship's XO that he'd started with and refused to surrender. She'd do, he decided. She wasn't without her problems, but then none of the Senior Staff was - himself included. "I'll need to finish the rest of the Senior Staff meetings, and then there are a few crewmen I want to meet personally after seeing their files. I'll be wanting to talk to you about your impressions on the rest of the Senior Staff and those crewmen when I'm done - you've served with them and I haven't - but other than that, there isn't anything I forsee needing to meet about outside the normal daily briefings." He paused. "I prefer to meet thirty minutes before the start of Alpha Shift to handle the daily briefing. That gives plenty of time to get it out of the way before shift change. Since that's impossible today, we'll start on that schedule tomorrow." He stood and nodded. "If you need me, my door is always open, Number One."

Rebecca's eyes narrowed a bit at the mention of a 'daily brief' but she didnt comment on it. "Aye sir," she said simply and neatly turned on her heel to leave. She wated for the double doors to hiss shut behind her before scanning the quiet bridge with a strangely ominous expression.

"Mr. Geluf" she addressed the OPS officer , "Please reduce shipwide system Resources by 75% and conduct an efficiency drill to see how the crew perform in said situations. Until further notice we are on simulated red alert, and power conservation measures so food dispensers will be limited to providing emergency freeze dried rations. Holodecks to be taken offline, and recreation privelidges suspended until the crew proves it can satisfy my expectations.. . . . . "

She paused a moment and let the implications set in. ". . . .and so far I am quite UNsatisfied."

The trip to Quentin was going to be a very long on efor the crew of the Galaxy.

~Play time. ~ Rebecca decided, ~was over.~

"The Sound of Silence"

By Lt. Curtis Geluf,
Chief OPS

Ens. Gerold Thorn (NPC)

For all intents and purposes, Quentin was dead.

Curtis, still recovering a bit from the shock of the shuttle ride, surveyed the desolate wasteland before him. In the distance, it was possible to make out a mountain range of sorts; though it looked nothing like regular mountains. They seemed to be the victim of eons of eroding, though Curtis knew full well that simply could not be the case.

Reflexively, the Lieutenant pulled out his tri-corder, an action that soon proved foolish. The tri-corder could no more pick up activity than it could bake a cake and Curtis found that even the life-signs of the crew were non-existant. He reached to put away the device then stopped, thought better of it, and began walking and scanning. He figured perhaps he might be able to clear area of interfearence eventually, or at the very least recover some mild functionality.

At the order to fan out, Curtis met with his "team", which consisted of a single science officer, one Ensign Gerold Thorn, and himself.

"It looks like most of the crew is heading towards the mountains, Ensign." the Kerelian said, "I'd say that direction is pretty well covered. Let's head out the opposite way, never know what might be out there. Keep sharp."

Seperating from the group, the two officers made their way towards the horizon, away from the mountains in the distance. Both had their tri-corders scanning, both were turning up no activity whatsoever.

"Not sure these things are going to do us much good out here, sir." Ensign Thorn said.

"Probably not, but it doesn't hurt to keep them running. We'll walk out a few kilometers or so and then head back if nothing turns up."

And for the first couple kilometers, it seemed like nothing would.

Curtis was enjoying the relative quiet, even if the planet was a bit of an eye sore. He could still hear all the other officers, many kilometers away, but he was so used to thousands of noises ringing in his head that the drop in volume was a comfort. Without his tricorder, Curtis was having to listen carefully ahead, trying to make out any noise at all. But so far, save for the sounds of light winds, he heard nothing.

The two were just about to head back when up ahead in the distance Curtis saw what appeared to be a drop-off at the horizon. Picking up speed a bit, the two made their way to what eventually turned out to be an odd looking coastline of sorts. In place of sand, there were only large rocks lining the ocean. Further inspection revealed small caverns carved into the rocks, as if made through years of water bombardment.

The ocean itself, which for all intents and purposes apeared to be H2O, felt eerily out of place when taken in with its surroundings. The water was also strangely calm, as if dead.

Reaching down, Ensign Thorn scooped some of the water into the palm of his hand and siphoned it into a small tube. Placing the tube into the tri-corder, he began to scan it.

"It's water. Regular water like we know, sir." the Ensign said, "Quite a bit of saline in it though. No chance of any type of life we are familiar with; now or ever before."

"That explains the wasteland." Curtis remarked, "All the topsoil has drained down here."

Gerold simply nodded and continued to frown at the tri-corder.

It was about this time that Curtis became alarmingly aware of a deathly silence. No longer could he hear the crew, the wind had died, the ocean was making no noise. For the first time in his life, Curtis was completely surrounded by absolute silence. His mind began to wander, running through a thousand different tunes, trying anything to stay focused.

Desperate for a noise, Curtis shouted to Gerold, "Ensign! Start talking!"

"Sir?" Gerold looked up from his tri-corder, his right eye-brow raised in a quizzical expression.

"I need to hear something, Ensign, it's so quiet..." Curtis began, "All this silence...it's....it's unnerving. I need a sound."

Half a second later, he got one.

It began as a simple rumbling sound, some distance away, but it was drawing closer quickly.

"Earthquake...." Curtis mumbled, still a bit tranced from all the silence a moment before.

"What was that sir?" Gerold asked.

"Earth.....EARTHQUAKE! Headed this way! Ensign, drop to the ground!" Curtis shouted as he hit the deck.

Gerold gave him an odd look, after all, he couldn't hear it. Nonetheless he did as he was told.

And was glad he did five seconds later.

It wasn't a huge shake. The ground remained solid and had they been standing they might have kept their balance. But the quake had caught them both by surprise. Was there a fault line out here? And if there WAS, the quakes could get MUCH bigger.

Just as Curtis was about to stand again, he happend to check his tri-corder...which was now working perfectly. He didn't know how, or why, but those questions were secondary at the moment. He was going to use the time to his best advantage and try to figure out what was going on out here.

He was just about to scan the ground when he picked up the tachyon pulse...

As if by instinct, his head shot up to look at the horizon down the coastline. In the far distance he could see it, a quick flash of green. Checking the tri-corder again, he could see the ripples heading their way.

"What the hell is going ON on this planet??" Curtis shouted as he began walking towards the source of the pulse. The silence had returned. Indeed, even the pulse seemed to make no sound and the Kerelian was once again thrust into the recessess of his own mind, desperate to take his thoughts away from the un-nerving senario around him.

He figured other crew members must have felt, or at least heard the earthquake and would be on their way soon. Voices then, lots of voices, they would come back to him, they would help him to stay sane, they could help him.

And then the pulse receded to nothing, and as if by clockwork, the tri-corder became useless once again. Now not only were the sounds gone, but Curtis had nothing to focus on.

He continued on in a dazed state, taking no notice of his surroundings when a few minutes later the tri-corder burst to life once more as a second tachyon pulse hit.

And so the officers continued towards the disturbance in an on again-off again state. Neither one sure of what they would find there. Afraid, and yet unwilling to turn away..........

“The Security.”

Captain Daren M’Kantu looked at a console screen. According to this interesting information then a Romulan shuttlecraft would be meeting with them when they were to leave from Quentin and so then the Romulan ambassador had been summoned to his ready room. It was definitely not going to be an easy task to be the captain of this vessel and as if to worsen the situation then he was going to have Tal Shiar bodyguards onboard of this vessel.

Ramir Omar quickly walked into the room. He had not waited for the captain to allow for him to walk into the room. He just sat down.

“Captain M’Kantu.” The facial expression of the Romulan was utterly neutral. He wore the ornate clothing of a Romulan senator. M’Kantu decided to dismiss the irritating arrogance of the senator.

“Jolan Tru Ambassador.”

If Omar was even slightly surprised by being spoken to by a human captain via his own language then it was not revealed to M’Kantu by his neutral facial expression.

“There is an issue that I must discuss with you,” M’Kantu said to the senator. “It appears to me that you’ve just arranged to have security for yourself. My vessel is fully secure.”

“My father disagrees with that. I do too,” The senator said to the captain.

“Senator what type of weaponry are they going to bringing to my vessel?”

Omar irritatingly sneered at M’Kantu. “Do you really wish to know of that?”

“Yes I Do Senator.” M’Kantu said to the senator firmly.

His amused sneer vanished from his face. “Very well then. My men are bringing with them nothing that your security men do not have possession of.” “Meaning That?” M’Kantu was impatient.

“You had better not have a disliking to a surprise.” Omar extremely irritatingly sneered at M’Kantu for the second time.

It was extremely obvious that this Romulan was going to be revealing to M’ Kantu nearly no new information.

He sighed at realising this fact. “I’ve looked at your file. You avoided the destruction of Deep Space Nine by a grouping of renegade Romulan Warbirds. It seems to me that you’re a rather impressive negotiator.”

Omar just shrugged at M’Kantu. “I am that. One could say to you that your accomplishments are impressive.”

“What do you mean by that?” M’Kantu was greatly surprised by that sentence.

“I’ve looked at your file too. You were a hero during the Dominion War.”

This Romulan while arrogant was obviously intelligent. M’Kantu had just not considered that his own record might have of been analysed by this ambassador. “That is true.” He stood. “Thank you for your time. When your men are onboard of my vessel then I shall talk to you again Ambassador.”

“The pleasure was mine Captain.” Omar again sneered at M’Kantu. He then quickly left from the ready room. With a sigh then M’Kantu sat down. It was not going to be very easy for Lieutenant Commander James Lionel Corgan to deal with Omar and those bodyguards of his.

"Through the Eyes of a Listener."

Lt. Commander Adrian An'quinsos,
Acting Chief Counselor

The trip through the atmosphere of Quentin had been a tumultuous one. Throughout the ride, the Counselor had remained silent, no conversations were made with him, nor did he engage into any existing ones. Moreover, rather than listening to the various chatter without, Adrian had centered himself into a deep meditation, listening to the chatter within.

His blinking had reduced itself to a standstill, while both pulmonary and respiratory rates slowed in kind as well. It was as though a husk of the Counselor was left, and the rest of him lay somewhere else. If Adrian was aware of any jolts they were receiving along the way, he gave no visible indication of it.

However, once they had cleared the main threat, an expression started to etch itself on his face. Eyelids once stilled fluttered back to normal, as did his blinking and heart rate. He looked slowly around the cabin as all faces were directed out of the transparasteel windows. A feeling was working its way up to the El-Aurian's mind, and, as though, to confirm it he caught a glimpse of the landscape below them. He slowly shook his head as that expression finished tracing itself across his face.

It was a clear, nagging look of irritation.

A slow, suspicious realization began to worm itself in itself into the back of his mind as the shuttle landed on the surface of the planet. Much as he would have liked to stay on board the shuttle, most everyone else was suiting up and lightly sighed as he did the same.

'Perhaps they won't consider me getting in their way...' He thought, putting on his helmet.

Stepping outside with the rest of the team, the El-Aurian didn't bother with his tricorder. The Humanoid's head turned upward, then towards the horizon as he did a 360 sweep of the entire area, looking, searching for something. The feeling was a lot stronger here, and he didn't need to guess what it was. He had felt similar, temporal disturbances before, on the Old Galaxy and the Miranda, so the experience was nothing new. The nature of the disturbance was another matter altogether. His higher senses felt it, ebbing and flowing throughout the planet, with recognizable pattern. The wake washed over his mind, leaving a nauseating sensation as an afterthought. It was just a temporal cacophony of mixed signatures.

"Commander," The Counselor began over the communication's link as he turned back towards Ernst. "Everything about... THIS," He opened his arms, while his tone increased in irritation. "Is totally wrong! Nothing about this feels, as it should be. It feels... out of out of sync, out of place with what it should be."

As if to prove his point, the ground rumbled beneath them. The disturbance didn't feel to major, though, if one wasn't careful, they could have been thrown off balance. Adrian stabilized himself as it passed, and then waited for what the Commander had to say...

"Schemes and Survivors"

Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian

Battle Bridge USS Galaxy

Several crewmembers glanced up with startled expressions as Savar slapped his console forcefully. M'Kantu raised an eyebrow, seeing the Romulan's face was like thunder.

"Problem, Sub-Commander?" he asked.

Tr'Khellian turned a sour expression onto the Starfleet Captain. "I *still* have no access to sensors. Repairs are taking far too long!"

"I am confident that Commander Suder's staff is working as fast as possible," M'Kantu remarked, turning back to face the viewscreen.

"That is not fast enough," Savar countered. He leaned forwards over the blocky console that served as a substitute for the graceful arc he had gradually being getting accustomed to using on the main bridge. "With every moment that passes, our chances of detecting the presence of cloaked vessels at the time of Quentin's destruction grow ever smaller."

The African sighed. "We have been through this, Mr tr'Khellian."

The Romulan's lips twisted into an even sourer expression as his fingers grasped the edges of his console, tightly, in a vain attempt to suppress his frustration. Just as he had behaved at the meeting, M'Kantu was dithering, delaying, as if he was totally unconcerned with finding out what had happened. The answers did not lie on the surface of that dead world, but here, in orbit! Why did this fool refuse to see this? By the Elements, he wished he were in command of this ship! How he missed surveying the whole operations of a warship from the vantage point of absolute power - how he missed ordering, rather than offering 'recommendations'! This was agony, subject to the whims of this slow-witted dunce - this was imprisonment, not an opportunity, further punishment for his defiance, forced to serve beneath a weak and impotent human.

A threep from his console distracted him, taking his gaze away from the back of M'Kantu's head, where he had been trying to bore a hole. A message, from Ensign Pennington. Apparently LtCmdr Henderson had just been released from Sickbay and was requesting a meeting to bring him up to speed. Anything, tr'Khellian reflected, to break this terrible stalemate on the Bridge. He sent back a brief reply indicating he was available when needed. Although he hadn't slept in over twenty hours, having returned to the Bridge shortly after returning to his quarters after a full duty shift, there was, mercifully, enough of the Vulcan constitution left in the Romulan genetic makeup to permit him to go without sleep for extended periods. That said, if M'Kantu irritated him much more he would have to use it as an excuse just to escape from his incessantly annoying presence.

Savar turned his attention to other matters. With everything that had happened since their arrival in Quentin, he had not had the opportunity to consider the original situation in depth. He knew nothing of the diplomatic mission and was totally unaware, for instance, that one of the men missing-presumed-dead was Kylar Curran, an acquaintance of his from the legate's time stationed on ch'Rihan. Nor was he to find out just yet. Savar was more interested in the strategic location of the Quentin system. On the Federation's 'eastern' border, Quentin was less than forty light years from the Neutral Zone which still fenced off the Romulan Empire. Savar wondered how long the Neutral Zone would last, now the Federation and the Empire were at least pretending to be the finest of friends. How long before the Zone was declared archaic, a reminder of an unpleasant past they had all left behind, and gradually discarded? How long before the Romulans could begin to compete with the Federation for territory, not bothering with the Starfleet's hypocritical, bloated procedures, and instead bringing the light of technology and civilisation to less advanced species?

Tr'Khellian smiled thinly as he rotated the galactic map rapidly through three dimensions and picked out inhabited star systems. Federation space glowed an ethereal blue; the Neutral Zone a dull red stripe; Rihannsu space on the far side a snake-like green. Quentin, on the other hand, was colourless. And so were a large number of nearby inhabited systems. Suddenly, the purpose of the Galaxy's mission here became immediately clear: the ship was here to claim Quentin for the Federation to shut out the Romulans from this lucrative area of space. They would wow the technophilic part of the population and awe the technophobics into joining the Federation rather than remaining independent. This would seal off a gap in Federation space and encircle a large cluster of pre-warp systems, storing them away to be harvested at a later date. If Quentin remained independent, and the Neutral Zone were to be annulled, the Romulans could offer membership of the Empire to the Quentishari, and move in, using Quentin as a staging post for the acquisition of the systems beyond it. Naturally, this was undesirable: two of the stars were rich in dilithium, and the Romulans could establish a beach-head of immense fortitude.

One corner of the Romulan's lips curled up as he filed that nugget of information away. He wondered how much of the crew had worked out the real reason for their presence here. Glancing at M'Kantu, he wondered how complicit the African was in these political schemings. Suddenly his theories designed to transfer blame onto assailants unknown seemed oddly vulnerable. There was clearly more to the Quentin situation than met the eye, and in his pathetically reduced position, he had access to all too little data. The Captain and senior officers professed ignorance over the destruction of the planet's surface - but was it pre-meditated? Was this 'diplomatic' mission to Quentin the follow-up to an earlier diplomatic failure? Had the Quentites refused to join the Federation, asserted their independence and rejected the overbearing humans' advances? Was the destruction of Quentin punishment for this act? Surely, tr'Khellian mused, this was too backward even for the Federation. The Star Empire would not brook resistance, but ground assault troops could easily have conquered Quentin's small population following an orbital bombardment. Did the rulers of the Federation really need Quentin so badly?

The Romulan's thoughts were interrupted by another noise from his console. It was an alarm he had set up to sound whenever any form of external sensor access had been restored. Reacting quickly, he tapped a key on his station, which rattled off a chain of commands. The sensor load was immediately ring-fenced for Tactical, shutting out all other departments with a priority command code. Smirking to himself, he ran his hands acoss the Tactical controls and prepared to run a local scan, however limited it would inevitably prove. Those lacklustre engineers had still not repaired the deflector array, so a tachyon scan was out of the question. Nevertheless, he now had a fuzzy picture of most of the system. The patrolling fightercraft showed up as light green blips, moving across the display in regular patterns. It wasn't much, but at least Tactical was no longer entirely blind.

An irregularity in the blips caught Savar's eye. Tapping at his controls, he narrowed the scan focus and homed in on the unusual signal. Frowning, he reinitialised the scanners and ran a second scan of the anomalous reading.

"Captain," tr'Khellian said, looking up from his station, "another vessel is entering the far-reaches of the system."

"Elaborate," M'Kantu ordered, with a frown.

"It has no warp engines and is of primitive design. Maximum speed in the region of 80 per cent impulse. Equipped with several sensor arrays. It appears to be a very basic survey vessel." The Romulan looked down and tapped at his console, then raised an eyebrow. "It appears to be armed with a nuclear warhead."

"Lifeforms?"

"Seventeen." He tapped again at his console. "All Quentites." He looked towards the Captain, one dark eyebrow arched in an icy expression. "It looks as we have some explaining to do."

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