[Backpost]

"Time"

(Occurs immediately before 'Shuttle ride to... where?')

Principal Characters:

Admiral Jurgen Hoth
Captain Daren M'Kantu

Secondary Characters:

Lt. Commander Cassius Henderson
Lt.(JG) Cameron Bartlett
Sub-Commander tr'Khellian

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Bridge

"Mysteries And Strange Results"

Lieutenant (jg) Michael McDowell
Engineer

*** On Quentin ***

Some time had passed since the Team had arrived on Quentin. That is, after they barely survived the shuttle ride to the planet. If it wasn't for the excellent skills of the pilot, they surely would've been torn apart and toasted while playing out their last minutes as miniature meteors. For Michael it had been the wildest trip in all the years he'd served in Starfleet. Not that he wanted to do it over again. The thought alone...

Shortly after landing on Quentin the order had been given to spread out and see what they could find. Not surprising since it was discovered that the planet suddenly appeared to be eons older than the Quentin they knew. That was mystery number one. To make matters worse, the tricorders were useless, although they picked up Tachyon pulses at fixed intervals. Et violá, mystery number two.

Just before he first picked up the Tachyon pulses, Michael was walking in the opposite direction from where the pulses came from. The area was desolate and lifeless. In other words, it was a boring place where nobody would want to be, except for geologists perhaps. The only interesting, though 'minor', aspect about the environment was the utter silence. In Michael's eyes mystery number three. But of course, that wasn't his concern at the moment. Like everyone else, he wanted to know what happened to Quentin and how. ...Or what had happened to them.

*** A few minutes before ***

The moment his tricorder registered the first Tachyon pulse Michael stopped dead in his tracks. The pulses didn't last long and after they'd faded the tricorder was as useless as before. Nevertheless, this was a piece of the big puzzle and perhaps an important one.

~Good thing this gadget has a few kiloquads of memory.~ The tricorder beeped in acknowledgement when Michael requested a subspace harmonics distribution. The results were surprising to say the least. He frowned and tried it again.

Same result.

"Black holes? Here?" Michael finally mumbled. He shook his head and closed the tricorder. "What a joke."

Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder
Chief Engineer

"Silence, Thoughts, Quake!"

The Chief Engineer circled on the spot. He glanced to the distant where some of the crew had assembled. Discussing the current events and no doubt the lack of readings on their tricorders. He wondered if they were still really eager to be on this mission. He gazed over to his right and saw Lieutenant McDowell wandering away from the others. He was looking at his tricorder, trying to make sense of it. Something Ethan had been trying to do for the last few minutes. Although a futile event, he kept his open.

To his left was where Lieutenant Curtis and Ensign Thorn had strolled off. Ethan remained alone. After ordering his team to spread, he wasn't expecting anyone to follow him. He glanced away from the others into the distance where he imagined the planet once looked like any normal planet. Life, of any kind, grass, people, buildings, some indication that there had once been life. Now there was just this plain barren. Even he couldn't even think of the scientific reasons for it. A planet that is destroyed, to a planet that has been resting in silence for a good number of years, all in the space of a short time. Some kind of temporal distortion? His thoughts crept back to that of the ship. He wondered how his staff were doing. Repairs were bound to be going slow, but he had high hopes that Lieutenant's Grey and Eshe would be doing the best they could. No doubt someone on the Bridge would be demanding everything to be repaired right away, if only they knew the mechanics of Engineering. He had many times before received repeated requests to get certain systems online right away. Sometimes it had been easily achieved, but other times, there were precautions that had to be observed, procedures that had to be done correctly, if only they respected that. He shook his head and didn't believe his tricorder when it beeped several times.

Raising his hand, he looked at the tricorder and turned it towards the direction of where Curtis and Thorn had wandered off. Apparently it seemed to be a tachyon pulse of somekind. Probably a glitch in the tricorder's systems. But then the possibility of finding something was too huge to ignore. If the others had picked it up as well, that would mean at least his tricorder wasn't malfunctioning. He closed it and began walking quickly towards the area he had last seen Curtis. Strange that his tricorder would detect some sort of tachyon pulse, but nothing else.

Since Ethan had stepped out of the shuttle, he found the silence to be remarkably calming. Even in his quarters, the sound of the ship could still be heard when he tried meditating or even reading a book. But something about this seemed so relaxing. The sound of silence. He lowered his head and smiled slightly. It was very welcoming. But that smile soon disappeared, followed by a sigh. He'd rather Quentin be what it once was, rather that this dead rock. Still, he respected the situation and allowed the silent experience to fill his raging thoughts as he progressed towards the other two Starfleet Officers. Although out of sight, he had a feeling he would be able to track them. His thoughts reached out in an attempt to locate them. Some sort of presence... anything at this point would be good. It almost seemed inappropriate for him to shout out their names, breaking the silence.

He came to a halt after studying the ground along his travels. He knelt down and rubbed away at the rock beneath him. After a few seconds, he was able to pick up a handful of the dirt, ash, dust, whatever the ground was. It flowed through his hands like sand at first, but it seemed more like chalky dust. He dusted his hands and stood back up. With another sigh, he continued on with his search for Lieutenant Curtis. He would occasionally glanced around the area, as if expecting something to happen. He felt this niggling little sensation in his mind. Something wasn't right. To the obvious observer, that was a stupid statement, but there was something else, something, elusive. Something was happening on a higher level, more than they could see. He could feel some sort of disturbance-he just couldn't explain it. He brushed the constant thought out of his mind and focused on his current objective.

His tricorder beeped again. This time he came to a halt and read the information as it came through. Again, a tachyon pulse of some kind. He frowned and clenched his jaw. What on this dead planet could be generating a tachyon pulse? Unless it was artificial, a ship of some kind perhaps? He began running across the plain when his mind made him come to a halt. He knelt down to the ground and listened carefully. He could hear some sort of rumble. He rested his hand on the rock beneath him and felt vibrations getting stronger. The rumbling got louder and he quickly realized it was some sort of quake. The tremble wasn't too strong, he was easily able to keep his balance. After a few seconds, the ground came back to a halt as the vibrations disappeared. All was quiet again.

Ethan stood up and looked around. He checked the readings on his tricorder. Looking at it for a while as he continued on his way to find Curtis, he began thinking about the mechanics of the situation. From the readings he had gathered, he was beginning to think that the readings he was detecting hadn't just appeared. More like a delayed reading from the tricorder, something he was only picking up every now and again, like a transporter trying to find damned coverage through interference. Maybe not, maybe he was just over his head on this one, maybe the others would be able to explain more...

“Fire Crystals”

By
Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe

Her breathing slowed. Her body felt heavy. In her mind she saw a pendulum, it was long and thin, tapered at the bottom, made of quartz, a crystal from earth. It hung upon a sliver rope chain from a small hole in the top of the crystal. Its many facetted sides refracted the light as it swung from side to side. Her thoughts ceased. Slowly she reached out with her mind. Her awareness shifted. She could hear the drumming of her heart fading, till she was no longer aware of her body.

She could feel the crystal now, feel its energy, swirling, coiling, rising, falling. She breathed in its energy, its purity, and with every exhale she removed negativity. Feelings of anger, hatred, uncertainty, fear, guilt, happiness, sadness and pain, one by one were removed from her being, her consciousness. She took into herself its calmness, its warmth and light, its clarity of thought and emotion, understanding. Understanding of who she was, why she was here. Her questions were answered, though she knew not how. She did not need to know how and who answered them. It just was. And she understood that.

Around her the candles flickered casting shadows that danced across the walls. Salem padded across the living space and jumped up into the arm chair, pawing at it he walked around in a circle several times before plonking himself down and curling up.

The room seemed quite bare now that Dhani has packed everything back into the cargo crates. She had spent the last week on Risa relaxing and tanning some, though not intentionally. After her accident she had been singed off duty until further notice, plenty of time to clean up her quarters and chill out.

Though Dhani had not been chilling as such, rather she had been working hard. She had been meditating each day for several hours. She still could not sleep but the new meditation techniques were helping her to feel as if she had. The rest of the time she was finding new outlets for her emotional side. Her cello, affectingly called Chang after its previous owner, had been located, dusted and tuned. Her Bat’leth had had a similar ‘seeing to’ and now hung on the wall in solitary. Everything else had been put back into their crates; Dhani still didn’t feel right here, that or the ‘nesting’ side of her had just been dormant for the past few months. She liked it better this way. There was no clutter or rather memories to look at and she knew where everything was.

Several feet in front of Dhanishta was a chunk of crystal. It was quite a substantial size. Its many peaks glittered in the flickering light. The only sound that could be heard was Salem purring in the arm chair.

“Aouf” Dhanishta let out as a cargo crate slammed into her back temporally winding her. She fell forward with the impact and landed on the crystal she had been working with. “Ouch.” She muttered. Uncurling herself from the floor she sat up, rubbing her back and surveying her stomach; no cuts, just a bruise.

Not my preferred way to come out of meditation she thought looking up at the jar of honey on her desk, which she used to bring her out, the sugar seemed to replenish the system and wake it up at the same time.

She could feel the energy still all around her she wasn’t sure weather that was because of the meditation or something else but now wasn’t the time to think, it was the time to act. The ship didn’t shudder and rock like that for no reason, something was wrong.

She grabbed her pips and combadge from her desk affixing them to her black vest top she excited her quarters.

"Unauthorized Damage Control"

Erik Stiener,
Shopowner/Former Starfleet Engineer (Final Rank Lt. Cmdr.)

Time: When the shockwave hit the ship.

The Shop was closed for maintenance. Erik was in the back of the shop diddling with a new trinket. A toy. The bounce and roll sent him face first into the wall. He was still conscious, but he had a nose bleed. Getting up, he positioned his dead arm to catch the blood. Erik was soon out in the promenade. Chaos....but no major damage here. He knew that his old skills and knowledge may be in demand, quickly reaching a communication console in the hallway outside of the Promenade. "Computer....Who is the current Chief Engineer?"

"Lt. Cmdr. Ethan Suder."

"Patch me through to his communicator."

"Acknowledged."

"Commander Suder, This is Erik Stiener. Former Starfleet Engineer, Final Rank Lt. Cmdr. Do you require assistance?"

Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder
Chief Engineer

"Tumbleations"

Suder found his way to some kind of coastline after wandering for a few minutes. The view was still more or less dull. Nothing new. The landscape had seemed to all shift into one thing, a boring view. Yet occasionally it would seem interesting when he compared it to other places. Maybe he was just going crazy. He found the silence still pleasant though, a huge difference to being on any other planet or ship. His thoughts went out to the current situation. What had happened here, what were the others up to, had anyone found anything at all? Just more questions that couldn't be answered just yet. They could be here for hours trying to figure out what happened before something came along, before something happened.

He sighed after looking at his tricorder, still nothing of huge importance, except that tachyon pulse of some kind that appeared every now and then.

Based on the direction of where it was coming from, it was a sure bet that Lieutenant Curtis was on the case, no need for his presence yet until something had been reported. And if they found something genuine, they would report it right away to the First Officer who would hopefully inform the rest of them.

Ethan took one step on to the rocky ground and felt the ground dislodge beneath him. He could have sworn he heard a rumble, growl type noise before loosing his balance and hitting the ground with a thud. Sliding down the slope with several rocks, he growled and almost yelped as he went down. He felt his back and butt scraping on the ground as he continued to slide.

After a few seconds, he came to a halt. He sat up and turned slightly to look up the slope. Not bad for an old man. Most of the rocks surrounding the area had moved and crumbled down to the bottom with him. He took several deep breathes and raised to his feet, dusting himself down as he did so. After a minute, he gaze up and accepted the fact that his uniform was not going be as clean as it was a few seconds ago. He placed a hand on his lower back and stretched, rubbing his back as he did so. Already, an ache was settling in when he had fallen. You old fool!, he thought silently, biting his lower lip and he re-arranged his uniform to dislodge a certain wedgy.

He glanced back up the slope, the few meters he had slid down and saw something dark. It was like a hole of some kind in the rock face. Ethan steadily and slowly made his way two meters up the slope and knelt down, resting his left knee on the ground. It sure was a hole of some kind. He carefully began pulling away at the smaller rocks and pile of dust surrounding the small hole. His instincts seemed be driving him, before he knew it, his tricorder was out and raised in front of the hole. He tapped several buttons in an attempt to get some sort of scan, anything. How big was the hole, did it lead to caves of some kind, an underground of some sorts? But nothing, the tricorder was as useful out here as a temporal investigator would have been. He replaced the tricorder back on to his belt and crouched down more to see if he could see anything in the hole. He tried positioning himself several times, trying to allow some light to fall inside, but it wasn't working. He continued moving rocks and dust away with his hands and sleeves.

After several minutes, the hole was big enough for him to crawl through, but given the fact that the whole area was probably not stable prevented him from doing just that. Not to mention another one of those quakes could be all he needed to be buried alive. Still there was not enough light to illuminate the area he had discovered by total accident. Either that or there was a higher being on their side.

Suder slapped his wrist and cursed himself. Of course in the current situation, there didn't seem to be a need for a flash light. He was sure he had attached it to his wrist, unless it had come off during his fall a few moments ago. He looked around but couldn't see it. He'd have to get another one from the shuttle.

The Chief got to his feet and easily climbed to the top of the slope and made his way back to the shuttle. He would jog for a while, and then slow down to a quick walk to catch his breath. He had forgotten to brush himself down some more, his legs and arms were covered in a white and gray colored dust. Several of the other officers gave him a confused look or a raised eyebrow as he jogged by.

At last, he came to the shuttle, the Serengheti. He raised his left hand and leant on the side for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath. He looked back from where he had just come and realized for the most part, specially the last few minutes, he had been running as fast as he could.

Maybe he had startled some of the other Away Team members? It didn't matter just yet, he was on to something, or was he?

He laughed at himself for a minute, maybe he was getting out of shape. He patted his stomach and shook the thought out of his head. He inhaled a deep breath and moved around to the back of the shuttle and stepped inside. He sat down for a moment and opened up a panel on the wall behind him. He grabbed the flash light from it's holder inside the panel and also the bag of tools and gear he might need. Strapping it to his back, he stood up. When he got back to that hole, he had have to take refreshments of somekind. He found his mouth rather dry.

Ethan's attention turned to that of some mumblings from a couple of the crew members not too far from shuttle Serengheti. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but something must have sparked their sudden outburst of chatter. As he stepped on to the ramp of the shuttle, Ethan looked around and heard another rumbling noise. His first thought was that the ground was moving, and at first, it wasn't. But then the vibrations picked up a lot.

Objects in the shuttle rattled of the edge of the surfaces they were resting on. Ethan could now feel the tremors all around him. The shuttle itself seemed to be moving slightly, or at least, Ethan thought it was.

It was another quake! Although this one seemed to be a lot stronger than the last one he had experienced. Ethan found it had to manage his balance as the shaking of the shuttle continued. He was about to drop the floor when he heard a loud crashing noise, like lots of rocks breaking apart, coming from the front of the shuttle followed by a thud. Ethan fell back and hit the floor with another thud. Raising his head, he looked out the back of the shuttle and saw the skies. The Serengheti had clearly fallen forward or something. The shaking continued and seemed to get worse. Ethan felt the shuttle roll slightly to the right. The ground must have been giving way. He grabbed the seat near him in an attempt to pull himself up and was flung forward as another crashing noise echoed through the shuttle.

In a race against time, Ethan managed to get to his feet. His instincts told him to just remain still, but for some reason, he had the urge to escape the shuttle, whatever was happening to it couldn't have been good.

For a few seconds, the shaking stopped. The rumble could still be heard but everything was still. The shuttle then seemed to crash into something.

Suder once again lost his balance and fell into the wall. He let out a growl again as his face made hard contact. He felt a little blood in his mouth and cringed with pain. The violent shaking continued for a few more seconds, knocking all of the equipment around, including Ethan. Ethan tapped his communicator, "Suder to-"

Another loud crashing noise cut Ethan off as he was thrown against the other wall of the interior of the Serengheti. He then fell to the front of the shuttle, banging objects on his slippery travel across the floor. Then the silence came hurrying back. Like it had forgotten that it was supposed to be silent. Ethan raised his head a little and squinted. There wasn't much light coming from outside now. A lot of dust though. He squinted his eyes and blinked several times, making sure he wasn't imagining things. The vibrations of the shuttle and ground seemed to have stopped.

Suder led his head back down and focused on recovering from what had just happened. It seemed quite clear that the ground had given way allowing the shuttle to tumble, or fall down... But how far. Had the ground just given way by a few meters, or was it more serious than that? He wanted to get up and investigate, but for the moment, he was trying to get his breathing back to normal after his physical contact had knocked the wind out of him. He was quite content to remain still for a moment. I'm too old for this shit! he thought with a smile. But then he had really enjoyed the last few seconds. It wasn't everyday he experienced something like that. Sure over the years he had suffered more than his share of cuts, bruises and electrical shocks over the years in Engineering, but this was different.

This was new, exciting, adventurous, dangerous. He actually felt alive for a moment. He reached down with his left hand for his tricorder which was missing. Probably had come loose during his tumble inside the Serengheti.

But he had to find out how far the shuttle had fallen....

"Purgatory"

by Kylar Curran,
Chief Federation Liaison Officer

Cameo Appearance of Karyn Dallas

Kylar was home... or dead.. or both. Either way, he was the most relaxed and content he has ever been. No humans, no insidious flatulent odors, no grating counselors.

He floated in space, calm, rocked by the gentle waves. He breathed in the fluids, in rhythm to the lilt of soft music. He couldn't identify the author, nor did he care. The dulled beat of wind instruments carried through him. A chorus of sound, pleasant to the senses, kept him in euphoria.

He stretched out his tentacles in the warm waters to gather more to him, to wash it over him, but something was different. The waters were slightly more resistant to his expansion. That, and only two of his appendages moved, and they weren't as resilient.

He opened his eyes, and was met with a rush of pressure on his vision. He couldn't see through the amber haze down on his body. It was a dark blob with two points at the end that suspiciously didn't look like tentacles. He brought what he thought were his tentacles up to his slowly focussing eyes, and discovered he still had his hands from Terran form.

"Blub, blub, blub..." He cocked his head around when his words came out garbled. Squinting around his environment, he couldn't see any details.

Where the hell was he? Everything about this place said he was dead, but why was he still in Terran form? Was he being punished even in death for his failings in life?

Yet, here he was breathing in his purest Kelvan form in an underwater environment. Had he taken the Last Walk? But no, he couldn't remember it. The last thing he remembered was.... beaming down to Quentin with Galali and that useless counselor.

But where were they? Could they have beamed into this place? Why would the observation team have placed them at these coordinates? So many questions. He decided to search the area for answers. No sense in floating in one spot until luck would stumble across them. Somehow, he doubted that would happen. Call it Terran intuition. There was at least one good thing about taking this form.

The golden liquid enveloping him still emitted its soft flowing music, relaxing him even in this alien environment. He kicked out against the heavier fluid he floated in and probed his surroundings. Walls of equally amber fabric ceded to his probes, but would not break. Through the murk and haze, he couldn't see much farther than a foot or so through the material.

There wasn't much for light. It seemed to be emitted from the walls themselves, glowing luminous and pulsating with a life of its own.

His pushing on the fabric caused gentle waves to course through to the next chamber. He swam to the bottom (? - who knew which was up or down) of the fabric searching for weak points. They stressed, but did not give. Still, he wasn't becoming frustrated. Strange. He just felt heavy and relaxed constantly.

He swam upwards toward the top of the fabric curtain, but was stopped by the sudden image of Karyn Dallas' face floating on the other side.

She was bobbing in the undulating waves caused by his progression into the other chamber. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared peaceful. He could only hope she was dead. He pushed again on the curtain, harder this time. The resulting current carried her away out of his sight.

Kicking his legs back, flipping him over in this alien environment, Kylar swam back towards what he hoped was the opposite side of his cell. He formulated cell in this extreme, for he could not locate an exit nor was he able to access Dallas' own chamber.

He ran into the curtain directly opposite Dallas', bouncing off it. He could feel the ripples of current around him.

He reached out for the fabric, when Galali's anxious face pressed up against it rather quickly. It caused the Kelvan to start.

Bubbles surged out of the Federation Ambassador's mouth as he frantically tried to speak. His eyes were right wide in fear, his hands waving about, trailing gelatinous fluids behind it like a tracer, or slow-motion effect. He beat on the curtain, sending rivers at the Kelvan.

"Speak slowly, Ambassador." The words came out of Curran's mouth with a deep, resonant effect. It was horribly contrasted against the beauty of the composition that still floated about them. Kylar wondered why the Ambassador was so anxious. He never felt so at ease in his existence in human form.

"Where... are... we... Legate? How.. are.. we... breathing... in... here?" He waded in place.

"I have no idea, Ambassador. Have you been able to locate any of your aides? Have you seen anyone else?"

"No one, Legate. No one at all. Are we on Quentin? I don't recall any data files on this environment. How are we breathing?"

Curran sighed. How he wished he had someone more survival-oriented here. Dallas would probably be able to explain to this Risian how he was able to breath in the fluid.

"Again, Ambassador, I don't have any answers. I was born in a liquid environment, and my DNA may be remembering it. Yours as well. Are not Risians carried to term in amniotic sacs like most humanoids? Then again, I can only hypothesize. I am not a doctor."

Galali's face dropped sullenly. "What are we going to do? Why hasn't the Galaxy beamed us out? Aren't these transponders supposed to be tracking devices?"

"Search for answers, Ambassador. The Galaxy may not believe we are missing. Tap your transponder." Curran rolled up his sleeve. He didn't especially want to leave...

"I've already tried that, Legate. Obviously, I'm still here." He threw his arms up, sending more ripples outwards.

Curran threw him a cross look. How dare the Ambassador leave without determining the status of the rest of the Delegation team? It made Curran sick. Or woujld have, if he didn't feel so calm about it. He tapped his anyway. No familiar tingle, no rising bile of his insides being disassembled.

"Find your aides, Ambassador. Get answers."

"I'll try again, Legate." Jonas started to push off, but stopped. "But what is the question?"

"I'm sure you'll know what to say. You are a diplomat, after all." Curran then swam off, leaving the Risian to his own devices.

"The Watcher"

by
Dhanishta Eshe (Writer X)

From beneath a greying, matted, tangled mass of hair, distant hollow eyes looked up at the heavens as two glowing objects pierced its atmosphere, streaking across the sky, breaking the deathly silence.

The being stared in amazement. In its hands a pole clattered against a stone as its wrinkled, dirt ridden hands trembled.

The being hurried across the plains to the hills. From there it watched as the UFOs landed and one by one the inhabitancies emerged and took their first tentative steps.

For a while the being crouched on the hill. Through calculating, hawk like eyes it watched the visitors. Its lips drawn in a taut, thin line…

"Shot In The Dark"

By:
Lt.Commander Rose Isis MacAllen,
Chief of Archology

Lt (jg) Kay Elizabeth MacAllen,
Asst. Chief of Archology (APC)

Ensign Edward Ti,
Science Officer (NPC)

**Science Lab One**

Rose was walking around while her crew was hard at work, this mission have the young Betazoid alittle nevrous but she didn't show it towards the others.

Kay and an young Bajoran man name Edward Ti was doing everything they can to focus the sensor so the Captain and the Galaxy can keep an eye on the away team.

"Sorry Commander, we can't fix the problem." the young Bajoran said while typing some codes into the computer.

Now the young Commander' MacAllen was getting frustrated but she keep her coolness in check, "Kay try to tighten the beam." Rose order while watching the young pair.

Kay who is one of Rose's close friends started to try anything to try and tighten the beam, "Sorry ma'am, nothing. The weather down there is like an shot in the dark."

While walking around Rose got an idea and replied while the young officers waits for their orders, "Use one of the satellites in orbit to amplify the sensor scans by re-directing the satellite into lower orbit."

Both Kay and Edward was shocked by the idea but didn't say nothing and when out with the chiefs order, an few minutes later both officers looked up towards Rose with an look on there face, "Sorry ma'am it not going to work." Edward replied with an sad look on his face, he was hoping help Rose as much as his can.

With that Rose stalked towards her office to think things over while Kay and Edward frowns and when back to there work.

The young woman sat behind her desk in her large, posh office trying to think what to do during this mission...all she wanted it so show her new Captain her how loyal and hardworking she can be.

But here it is. I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you enjoy reading it.

Oh, and listen to "Sunrise" By Simply Red. I know it's not rock... but its nice and mellow. Something to relax to.

“It’s In The Stars…”

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

Location: Away Team, Shuttle Opaka

“Roads” By Portishead (Pharrel’s Quandry)

***********

“Thanks for the checkup, doctor!” Lieutenant Pharrel waved the intern goodbye with a wink and a merry smile. Surviving a disaster on the ship, and inhaling enough plasma exhaust fumes to dope up a Klingon alcoholic, and having a phaser cut within millimetres from her leg didn’t dampen her mood. Neither did Dr. Malgin, in case there were those whom were curious.

The fact was, Lieutenant Pharrel was the cheery type, and didn’t mind that her life was within a short distance of being snuffed out. If anything, the fact that she did survive gave her incentive to stop worrying and start celebrating.

~”Hmmmm… what do I do now?”~ She pondered, ~”I’m not on the repair crews and I have a reputation for being a gremlin, so that’s out of the question. We’re on yellow alert, so I can’t enjoy the holodeck or anything cool. My music and holo collection is sparse. Everything in the computer core is a-ok. And… I’m new here. Don’t know anyone…. Yes… I’m a pariah…”~

Her face fell. “Awwww… nothing to do…… WAIT!” She perked back up again, “I can go eat!” Her stomach was grumbling, complaining of the lack of occupied volume space. ~”Better do it quick before my stomach implodes.”~

The turbolift ride was uneventful. She hated the long waits, though she fully knew the turbolifts were… fast (her academy day files were rife with reports about her ‘distracted’ nature, as she tended to have a poor attention span, and therefore she missed that one lesson.)! Like a pot of boiling water, the turbolift ride always seemed longer than it already was. She regretted not being able to bring her music player, but it couldn’t be helped. If she were caught with the device one more time at the computer core, her chief would use her pips as ammunition, and aim for her head!

When she was bored, she got to thinking.

Sometimes it was good. That was how she came up with the brilliant idea to boost computer core efficiency by 5%. That was also the time she literally pulled an A+ report on theoretical applications of ultra-efficient surge suppressors for use on standard Federation consoles (reported to cut down on casualties during ship battles by 89%, just by making sure consoles didn’t blow up so easily!). And then there was the moment of genius when she found a way for the LCARS system to recognize when a person was trying to bribe it, and she therefore created a message in the new version to answer to such offers.

That was it. Literally. Other than those few golden moments, Lieutenant Pharrel couldn’t keep idle. Boredom affected her most.

What she thought on the turbolift alarmed her more than anything. Not another theory to pull out of her ass, like the millions of other uber-geniuses employed by starfleet’s engineering corp. Believe it or not, she had a life outside of isolinear chips and computer code. That was the problem. Though she had a life outside her job, it wasn’t much of a life.

Her, her cat, and her roommate. Minus the roommate and her cat when she moved to the Galaxy, there was nothing.

Even her old ex-boyfriend, Gus the anti-matter refuelling attendant, was gone.

There was nothing.

Why was it that when she was at her most isolated, that something, like anything whenever she was in academic or personal duress, came out of the blue like a paladin on a white charger to scoop her up from the enclosing gas clouds of depression? Why did it have to take the apex of her bad luck streak, being on the wrong deck when the ship just HAD to be hit by yet another overwhelming shockwave, being pinned under debris that should have for all sakes held firm, to meet a decent person?

Her memories of the incident were hazy. Plasma exhaust fumes didn’t help much, smoke even less, and the fact that there was a huge beam keeping her legs to the ground kept the incident a bit difficult to keep clear.

But she did remember a handsome fellow with the mouth of a dockworker and the clipped accent of a space boomer. He was injured like her, a scrape on the head but nothing more. And the way he cradled her when she was being evacuated… this man knew how to rescue! From what she remembered, he was blonde, with a short cut, and grey eyes that were gentle yet voided. He had a gold uniform. An engineer like herself, or a security officer (at least she HOPED it wasn’t security, they were all a bunch of crude, lecherous pigs anyways).

She came to wonder, who was this man?

What was he doing now?

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

Meanwhile on the planet.

James looked at the lonely starscape, curious as to where the ship was. Usually, the Galaxy was large enough to be seen from space. It was a bright, shining star that spun around the planet in a comet like path. From telescopes, it could be seen clearly. Its brutal, warthog looks made it the flying brick capable of making a hell of a bruise. Ugly as sin, but easy to spot out.

Nothing, so far.

“Where the hell are we?” James was agitated. He didn’t know where they were, though theoretically they were supposed to be in the western mountain ranges. All that was left was a mesa, and from the last report… a saline rich ocean.

He wanted to be out there, but was stuck with starshot duty. The only method of navigation available. The stars didn’t let the old mariners or the early cryo-gen spacers (occasionally) down. The alien starscape, like many before, had clues where they were.

”Couldn’t be Quintin.” James muttered. The landscape was different. Old, dusty, flattened by a gigantic hammer and roughened by the uneven hand of creation. It was much like the badlands on any other planets. Mesas here and there, lots of dust, and dried out vegetation. There wasn’t much on this ‘Quintin’. A dustbowl, nothing more.

He recorded the starshot from his EVA suit’s mission recorder, and trundled to the shuttlecraft. There, he could get a better reading on the starshot. Without sensors, his tricorder was next to useless, and so was the sensor suite on the suit. He came to think, what could be used that didn’t involve scanning any more than a few feet?

Direct sample?

His thoughts were distracted by a crunch. Instinctively, stood on one foot and looked down. He was standing on a dried stick, dusty from ages of neglect. What surprised him was on the end of the stick was a stone.

A sharpened stone. Flint from the look of it, tied to the stick by leather strips.

“Holy sh*t! A spear!” Excited, James picked up the new find and tucked it under his shoulders. This was going to be a big development! In a rush to the shuttlecraft to find out about his new gift, he almost forgot to take a sample of the air. He opened the shuttlecraft, tossed the spear inside, then hurriedly withdrew a sample of the air into a small receptacle in his EVA suit. He then closed the shuttle doors, and waited for the ‘Quintin’ air to evacuate

He snapped off his helmet with a sigh of relief. The EVA suit ejected a small capsule of local air (trapped in a filter). He slid the capsule into a sample tester and allowed the machine to whirl and click. It warned James, saying =/\=”Analysis in progress, please wait.=/\=. He shrugged, as expected, he guessed.

“Computer.” He commanded, glancing back at the spear he collected, “Download mission recorder from EVA suit Corgan1.”

”Downloading… please wait.” The computerized voice of Admiral Chapel itinerated, “Complete.”

”Display at console 8, please.”

The computer screen flickered on the passenger side of the shuttlecraft. He took his seat and watched as his mission recorder replayed the alien landscape. “Computer, fast forward to time index 50185.98.876.”

=/\=”Processing.”=/\= The computer ground through the information quickly. The screen came back to the scene he encountered a few minutes ago. It was a clear, cloudless, star filled night without light pollution. It was an astronomer’s dream planet. To James, it held answers he had to know.

“Computer, scan star pattern. Also, do we have any information from Starfleet’s survey of the planet Quintin?”

=/\=”Searching… files found… from Stardate 43098 to present.”=/\= The computer helpfully replied.

“Thank god for Starfleet thoroughness. Knew those files would be handy.” James continued, “Cross reference star chart information with Quintin star survey information, and find any similarities between the two. Tell me if there is a match. And if not, please tell me where in the f**k we are? There’s a new isolinear chip in it for you…”

=/\=”Cross referencing. Performance of the Daystrom 8800 Isolinear shuttle computer and LCARS operating system will not be affected by offers of gratuity.”=/\= The computer replied. Was the computer sassing him?

“I can’t believe you said that.” James grumbled, and chuckled, ~“Those eggheads at utopia planetia have a strange sense of humour.”~ He got up to have a cup of coffee. It was a long day, and he hated being without life giving caffeine. The on board replicator denied his request for real coffee, giving him instead a slurry in a silver packet made of pecan shells and other nut like brick-a-brak, labelled ‘Confederate Coffee’.

”Crap.” He looked at the mix sourly, then sipped it through the straw anways, shrugging. Coffee was coffee. The light on the air tester turned green. It was breathable, but a bit musty. “Thank god.” He sighed, “I hate these damn EVA suits…”

=/\=”Results found!”=/\=

James spun around in surprise. “What the f**k did you just say to me?”

The computer repeated, =/\=Results found!=/\=

“Show them!”

The computer withdrew a snapshot of the starfield, then started a mind boggling series of imposed shots over other starfields. There were many, many matches.

“Results found. Starshot from EVA suit mission recorder ‘Corgan1’ matches star patters from the planet Quintin.”

He looked at the information, wondering what mistake was there. It couldn’t be, he thought. This wasn’t Quintin. There was nothing remotely similar to Quintin. Not the past Quintin, the standard light blue and green orb with clouds, or what should have been the new Quintin with firestorms, gas clouds, and a near inhospitable environment. There was nothing here but a dustbowl.

But the stars didn’t lie.

They were on Quintin. Here and now, Quintin.

The mystery, James felt, just burrowed itself deeper.

Then rattled itself senseless, as the ground began to shake…

"Ride The Tiger" Part 1

Primary Characters:

Admiral Jurgen Hoth
Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lt. Commander Cassius Henderson
Major Saladin Bolivar
Sub-Commander Savar tr'Khellian
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff

Secondary Characters:

Commander John Zaletta
Lt. (JG) Cameron Bartlett
Ensign Rima Pennington

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 8
Battle Bridge

"Three ships entering the system in tight formation," Savar spoke up from the tactical console. "Dropping out of warp now. Sensors identify all three as Starfleet vessels: the Nimitz, the Pershing, and the Hood."

Well, he'd had his twenty hours and there was nothing to show for it, Daren sighed. Not even a sign of the landing party since they made planetfall. It was too much to hope for that Hoth would be late. "The Nimitz is a Sovereign-class, and the Hood is one of the Excelsior refits," he nodded. "Is the Pershing one of the new Valiant-class heavy escorts they've started production on?"

"Yes," Savar replied curtly as specifications for the vessels began to march down one of his displays in three columns.

Hoth had come loaded for Andorian Ice-bear. Daren turned to Ops. "Admiral Hoth will be on the Nimitz, Mr. Bartlett. Hail him and prepare to transmit the collected data upon his request."

"Aye, sir," Bartlett replied, hands moving across his console. Hail acknowledged, sir." He frowned and looked up. "But no request for data transfer."

"He'll get around to it, Mr. Bartlett, never fear."

Savar spoke up again. "The Nimitz is now scanning the planet."

Daren nodded. "Thank you, Sub-Commander."

"Why isn't he asking for our data?" Cassius spoke up. USS Nimitz... A typically Admiral Jurgen Hoth name for a starship. A historical figure that he would want to associate himself with. Of course, Cassius Henderson found that mildly amusing, since Hoth had always scorned the traditional, in favor of whatever happened to be cutting edge at the time, as military tactics went. Not that the traditional was any better. Cass perferred a balance himself, picking and chosing whatever he felt would work best in a given situation. Some of Hoth's new school of tactics had merit to Cassius Henderson, but some of it seemed to be a fair bit mindless...

"He'll want to make his own scans so he can compare them to ours, Commander." Daren turned just enough to make eye contact. "It wouldn't do to accept our data as fact and then discover that we'd faked it up, now would it?"

"Faked it up?" Henderson looked offended, an automatic responce if ever there was one. Rima Pennington, who happened to standing next to him with a report from Phaser Control gave him one of her 'You can't be serious?' looks, and his sensibilities returned. "Right..." He signed the report and handed it back to her.

"Of course, Commander." Daren turned back to the screen. "It's a possibility that I couldn't discount were I in his place.

"Fighters launching." Savar's hands worked the console. "Taking up picket position around the task force." He frowned. "Their weapons are hot, Captain. We should assume a more aggressive posture."

"No," Sub-Commander," Daren shook his head. "We're not here to start a shooting match with our own ships."

"Then at least let me scramble our remaining fighters," tr'Khellian snapped irritably.

"No, Sub-Commander, this isn't a war. They just want the same thing we do - the truth about what happened."

Savar's disgusted glare was almost enough to peel paint from the deck. "Yes, Captain," he replied with an ill-concealed sneer.

The task force halved the distance to Quentin before Bartlett looked up. "Incoming message, sir."

"On screen."

Jurgen Hoth appeared on the screen. "I'll be beaming aboard, Daren," he began without preamble. "I presume the unknown ship we see is the Quentite warp prototype?"

At least Hoth was using his first name. That meant that he was determined to be civilized about this. "Yes, sir, it is. They re-entered the system eighteen hours ago." Daren nodded to Cassius. "Commander Henderson and major Bolivar have opened a dialog with them. They're still in shock, both from our presence and what happened to their homeworld, but for the moment they seem to be handling things as well as could be expected under the circumstances." Which was, of course, not that well at all. At least they'd decided that their nuclear-tipped missiles weren't going to resolve the situation.

Hoth nodded in his precision way. "I'll be aboard in ten minutes, Daren. We'll talk then."

"I'm at your disposal, Admiral."

"Not, perhaps, the best choice of words, Daren. Hoth out."

Daren started for the doors. "I'll meet the admiral's party at the Transporter Room, Commander. We'll use the conference room off of Number One... off of the Executive Officer's offices. Please have yourself, the Sub-Commander, and Major Bolivar available in case the admiral requires you." Daren turned to look back at Cassius the doors opened. "Oh, and have Security dispatch someone to the conference room. I imagine Admiral Hoth will need them."

Tr'Khellian watched M'Kantu enter the turbolift, and then looked back to his console. Whatever was happening here, it did not look good. If these ships, and this Admiral Hoth, were merely here to conduct an investigation, why had they deployed their fighters? The Galaxy's were there to screen the battered flagship - what was Hoth's excuse? And that word Hoth picked up on - disposal. It was what the humans called... what? A double entendre? Had Hoth arrived to dispose of M'Kantu? It might be premature before any investigation, but certainly in the Star Empire, any Commander apparently guilty of this sort of debacle would be immediately removed from command by the Tal Shiar operative attached to his vessel - and yet Major Bolivar had made no such move. So had it been left to Hoth? Scarcely less efficient, the Admiral's flotilla had arrived within a day. Were M'Kantu's days numbered?

Henderson nodded after M'Kantu, then turned his attention to the task at hand, sitting down in the command chair. "Henderson to Security.... Henderson to Security...." His mouth, already the thin line it usually became when dealing with the political, deepened into a solid frown, and he reached up to catch Ensign Pennington's arm, as she looked to be about to attempt to escape the bridge.

~Damn...~ the other woman turned back, "Why, Cassius Henderson, do I have to be your errand girl? Security?" She put her hands on her hips. She'd do it, but he would know that she didn't like it. Why did nothing on this ship every work?

"Because I wear more pips' Rima, and because I said so," Cass replied, exhausted, then smiled at her, "Just do it. Go run down to security. Let them know that they need to send somebody to the conference room to cover the meeting... Make it Lieutenant Kreighoff. And have security send somebody down to engineering so engineering gets security's communications back up. I'm fairly sure ours are working, since I used them to call you up here. Don't let security rope you into running for them."

"Gee, thanks sir," Pennington said sarcastically, then left the bridge.

Henderson shook his head... ~I'll have to talk to her about not being that way with me on the bridge... Great... Just what I need. I should have had that political conversation with Savar by now...~ He stood, and headed up to the arch. "Mr. tr'Khellian, do you have a moment, while Captain M'Kantu is in conference. We should probably take a moment to talk, now that we're all in the middle of this. Major Bolivar, you have the bridge."

"Ride The Tiger" Part 2

Primary Characters:

Admiral Jurgen Hoth
Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lt. Commander Cassius Henderson
Major Saladin Bolivar
Sub-Commander Savar tr'Khellian
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff

Secondary Characters:

Commander John Zaletta
Lt. (JG) Cameron Bartlett
Ensign Rima Pennington

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 8
XO's Conference Room

"Well, this is a mess you've created, Daren," Hoth said the moment the doors to the conference room closed behind them. "No, don't bother to explain it; I'm not the one that you'll be doing that to." He shook his head. "I think you've set the record for shortest command time aboard the Federation flagship in history."

"My time aboard the Galaxy really doesn't matter, sir. What does is finding out what happened."

"That's someone else's job now, Daren." Hoth looked towards the Commander who'd boarded with him, a dark-haired man with a case of isolinear chips in his hands. Behind the Commander, the two security men that had accompanied Hoth and the Commander took up positions on either side of the door. "First things, first, though. As soon as we shift command to Commander Von Ernst and take care of some other business with her, you'll be coming back with me." He nodded to his aide. "Commander Zalleta will handle that."

Daren braced himself. "I'm afraid that's going to be impossible, sir."

"Impossible?" Hoth didn't appear to hear the term very often.

"Commander Von Ernst isn't available to take command, sir."

"She isn't? Was she injured?" Hoth seemed concerned - or what passed for it with him.

"The Commander led the away Team I dispatched to the planetary surface, sir. She hasn't reported back in yet." Daren wondered what Hoth would say when confronted with his act of insubordination.

"I see." Hoth looked at him coolly. "I do recall correctly that you were given express orders not to send any landing parties down to the planet, don't I Daren?"

"You do, sir."

"But you felt the need to do so despite that?" He shook his head. "Rash, Daren, too rash. You'd have done better to try a probe before risking lives like that."

"A probe might have missed whatever it is that you don't want me to see down there, sir." That damned smile was threatening to return again.

Hoth was silent for several seconds. "Do you have any idea what you've done, Daren? Any at all of the risks you've taken? The possible consequences?"

There was something down there, Daren was sure of it now. "No sir - because you've withheld the information I needed to understand those risks.”

"You're out of line, Captain," Zalleta spoke up.

"It's all right, John," Hoth observed. "We're all under a little stress here." He turned back to Daren. "You know it doesn't work like that, Daren."

"It doesn't?" Daren felt the first stirrings of his temper. "Whatever research or project you've hidden down there is the most likely cause of what's happened here. I don't think my career is that important, not when stacked against the lives your little secret has cost - and if losing it is the price I have to pay to get justice for those innocent lives, then I'll pay it gladly."

"That's hardly the attitude of contrition that the Review Board will be looking for, Daren," Hoth cautioned mildly.

For a moment Daren considered saying something truly insubordinate, but let it pass without utterance. "Why are you really here, Admiral? This isn't your sector - you don't have one. You're assigned to Training Command, not Fleet Operations or Intelligence. What research did you have going on down there that was so dangerous that you were willing to risk a pre-warp sentient race's existence to hide?"

"Daren..." Hoth reproached cautioningly.

Something came to him then, an idea that was at once so terrible and yet so logical that Daren feared it could be nothing but the truth. "Is that what happened, Admiral?" His voice was still calm, but even the smile was gone for now in the face of the sudden anger he felt. "Was it because of the research facility? Was there some kind of antimatter charge set to wipe everything clean when a transporter beam was detected on the surface to keep your project from being discovered? Did all those millions, those good men and women, die because you were so scared of your project being found that you'd sentence them to death to hide it?"

"You're operating from a basic flaw in your logic, Daren." Hoth was still cool, but his voice was approaching the laser-sharp precision it had possessed before when Daren had known that he was angry.

"And that is?"

"That this was my project."

"If not yours, then whose?" Daren took a step forward. "Why are you the one here if this wasn't your project?"

"Because out of the two of us, Daren," Hoth replied icily, "I appear to be the only one that remembers how to follow orders."

It wasn't Hoth, then. The realization came to Daren as he saw the glacial chill in the admiral's eyes. Hoth might be many things, but a buck-passer wasn't one of them. If this had been his project, his mess, he'd never have been this angry at being accused of it.

"Captain," one of the security men spoke up, both of them now standing with phasers in hand, covering Daren steadily. "Step away from the Admiral please."

"Lieutenant," Hoth began as the conference room's doors opened – and Daren's eyes went wide as a familiar feeling washed over him, one he'd last felt in his Ready Room less than a week before.

****

Victor hadn't known what to expect when Ensign Pennington had delivered the order to send an officer to the XO's conference room had arrived. The decision to go himself had been easy - with the evacuation to the Secondary Hull, everyone else was busy except for the Armory Chief and Shelley O'Rourke. The pair had somehow managed to break arms on opposite sides of their bodies from one another, and thus were capable of manning Security Main between the two of them, but neither were up to whatever it was that the CO needed.

Neither had been sorry to see Victor go, either, but that was par for the course. He was past caring about that now - they'd be rid of him soon enough. It was all over the department now, everyone knew that despite his temporary rotation into Darkstar's old position his days on the ship were numbered.

Whatever he'd envisioned, he knew that two men in security uniforms about to phaser the Captain wasn't it. In the instant before they started to react to his presence, Victor saw clearly that the man on the right's weapon was not set to 'Stun,' but was set well into the lethal range.

M'Kantu was about to transfer him off the ship, but that didn't mean that Victor hated the man. It only made sense in the Captain's position. It was what Victor would have done in his position, after all. But at this instant he was still a security officer assigned to the Galaxy, under the command of Captain Daren M'Kantu - and pending transfer or not, no one was going to kill his commanding officer in front of him.

****

It was over before Daren really realized that it had started – certainly before Hoth of Zalletta had. The door opened, Krieghoff was there – and the two security men were falling.

It was as fast as anything he’d ever seen done; he had to give Krieghoff that. The security officer had reached out and caught the man to the right of the door by the collar, jerking him backwards off his feet and propelling him into the wall beside the door head-first. Without a second glance to the man he’d just felled, Krieghoff had caught the second man by the weapon arm to move his phaser out of line and slammed his right fist into the officer’s temple, the man sagging limply as the blow knocked him out. Then, still in a continuous turn, Krieghoff had ended the fight with a single kick to the side of the first officer’s head that snapped it around and flipped him over to lie face-down on the conference room floor.

Face expressionless, Krieghoff dropped the man he held by the arm and turned to face the remaining men in the room as Zalletta finally assimilated what had happened and reached under his tunic.

Daren opened his mouth to stop things before they got any worse, but Krieghoff beat him to it. “I wouldn’t, Commander,” he said quietly, the cries of the damned skittering along the edges of his words. Krieghoff smiled then, and Death slipped into the room to stand behind him and peer out through his eyes like the Lieutenant was a mask, hiding the features of the Reaper. “You’ll never get it clear.”

Zalletta froze, eyes on Krieghoff, and that gave both Hoth and Daren the time to speak.

“Stand down, John.”

“At ease, Lieutenant.”

For a moment, no one moved as four hearts beat in a carefully measured rhythm – and then Krieghoff shook himself once, like he were an animal shedding water from its coat, and the overwhelming presence emanating from him faded, leaving only the lesser, but still palpable, one he bore with him all the time. “Aye, sir,” he nodded.

Zalletta looked as if he were going to draw his concealed weapon anyway, but stopped when Hoth spoke again. “John.”

The Commander nodded and slowly drew his empty hand out and held it away from his to demonstrate it was weaponless. “Yes, sir,” he responded with suppressed anger.

Hoth studied the situation for a moment and then asked, “You didn’t kill either of them, did you, Lieutenant?”

Without looking at either of the two men, Krieghoff answered. “No, sir.”

“You’re sure about that?”

Krieghoff smiled, and Daren saw something he’d never thought to see: Jurgen Hoth flinch away from someone. Not much, but just enough that it was visible if you were looking at him when it happened. “If I’d meant to kill them, sir, you’d know it.”

“Ah. I see.” Hoth never took his eyes off Krieghoff. “Daren? I presume there’s some reason for the presence of the Lieutenant here?”

“Mutiny?” Zalletta offered, his face red with anger.

“Actually,” Daren’s voice was calmer than he’d expected, “I had security dispatch someone to facilitate your placing me under arrest, Admiral.”

Zalletta snorted, but Hoth nodded slowly. “Very well. Now, Lieutenant….”

“Krieghoff, sir,” Daren, offered.

“Thank you, Daren. Lieutenant Krieghoff, would please enlighten us as to why you felt the need to… demolish… my security team?”

“The one on my right had his weapon set into the lethal range, sir. I believed he intended to fire on Captain M’Kantu, so I eliminated that possibility.”

“His weapon was set into the lethal range?” Zalletta’s voice was openly skeptical to the point of being scornful. “You expect us to believe that you saw that in the instant the door opened?”

“It’s easily verified, John,” Hoth said mildly. “All we have to do is examine the phaser.” He paused. “With the Lieutenant’s permission, of course.”

“You don’t need my permission, Admiral.” Krieghoff pointed without looking. “It’s under the conference table to your left, Commander.”

Zalletta eyed Krieghoff for a moment, then slowly moved and bent down to pick it up. The Commander lifted the weapon, turned it over – and froze.

Daren held his breath, waiting for everything to fall apart again.

After a moment, Hoth asked, “Well, John?”

“It’s… set on Setting Seven, sir.” Zalletta sounded as if he couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or not.

Daren let his breath out, and then frowned. The man had really had his phaser set that high? There wasn’t a reason for that unless he’d intended to kill someone.

“How interesting,” Hoth said slowly. “How very interesting.”

“Admiral, I…” Zalletta began.

“No, it’s all right, John,” Hoth waved a hand, apparently having decided that he could move again without attracting the wrong sort of attention from Krieghoff. “They weren’t your men, I don’t hold you responsible.” He glanced at the two officers. ‘But I will be interested in hearing what they have to say for themselves – and who that phaser was meant for – when they awaken in the brig.”

“I’ll take care of that, sir,” Zalletta said grimly.

“That’s an… impressive… young man you have there, Daren,” Hoth observed, looking away from Krieghoff for the first time. “Did he come with the ship, or did you bring him along with you?”

“He was… here aboard the Galaxy already, sir,” Daren responded. At the moment, he thought it impolitic to mention that the man was also being transferred off at the first opportunity.

Hoth nodded. “I’m curious, Lieutenant,” he asked. “What were you going to do if you discovered that Captain M’Kantu was in the act of committing an offense that merited the use of deadly force?”

Krieghoff smiled that disturbing smile again. “I would have eliminated that threat, too, sir.”

“Of course you would. And if it had been I that was committing the act?”

“I would have had to have killed you, sir. The captain too, for that matter. Both of you were too far away for anything else.”

Zalletta looked less than thrilled at that, but didn’t speak up.

Hoth, to Daren’s surprise, seemed to take in the same controlled stride that he took everything. Perhaps the old warbird had really had his blood replaced with phaser coolant the way coffee table scuttlebutt claimed. “Killed me?” he eyed the distance between them. “Are you sure, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir.” Krieghoff held up his left hand and rotated his wrist to display the previously hidden Phaser-1 concealed there.

“You are aware, being in Security, that those weapons have non-lethal settings, are you not, Lieutenant?” To Daren, it appeared that Hoth, perversely, had begun to enjoy the conversation.

Krieghoff didn’t blink. “Yes, sir.”

“But you would have chosen not to use one?”

“Yes, sir.”

Daren had a sudden bad feeling about where the conversation was about to go.

“Why?” Hoth got the question out before Daren could interrupt.

“You’re not a young man, sir,” Krieghoff’s answer was flat and emotionless. “You’re unlikely to be able to physically threaten the Captain, who’s younger, bigger, and in better shape than you. You’re not carrying a weapon. Were you to be a creditable threat, you would need to be something other than you appear – something that didn’t need a weapon to be dangerous. In that case, a stun setting was too risky, here are too many things that it won’t work on. Better to kill you and let the forensic techs sort the truth out.”

“And Commander Zalletta?”

Daren was certain this answer wasn’t one that he wanted to hear either.

“He was never a threat, sir. The positioning was all wrong, and he wasn’t angry enough. You might kill someone without an emotional investment, be he couldn’t. He’d need to be angry or scared and he wasn’t enough of either.”

“You could tell all that from the doorway, Lieutenant?” Hoth asked skeptically.

Krieghoff smiled again, and Daren wondered again how anyone could stand to be near the man to work with him. “Yes, sir, he didn’t smell of fear enough to be a killer. Not then.”

Hoth appeared to work on that statement for a second, and that gave Daren the opportunity to say, “Lieutenant, see to securing these men for transport back to the Nimitz.” He paused. “Alive, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir,” Krieghoff answered with a nod bending down to take each man by the collar. “They’ll be waiting in Transporter Room 5, sir.” He patted the men down professionally, confiscated their communicators, a Type 1 phaser, and several small effects that he left on the conference table by Zalletta, and started to drag the men out.

“Lieutenant,” Hoth spoke up as the door opened. “You said that Commander Zalletta didn’t smell of enough fear to be a danger before… but that he did now?”

“Yes, sir.” Krieghoff looked over his shoulder and Daren shivered despite himself at the slight smile on the man’s face and what it did to his features. “He’s scared enough now – you all are. I can smell it from here.”

“I… see.”

Daren reflected that this might be the only time in history that Jurgen Hoth had been at a loss for words.

Krieghoff waited a moment more, then nodded to Daren specifically and exited the room, the unconscious men’s feet trailing behind him.

Everyone was silent for a moment, and then Jurgen turned to Daren, his expression as cool as always. “Well, now that charming interruption is over with, where were we Daren?”

Daren refused to play the polite game. “I was suggesting that you were here to clean up after yourself and find a scapegoat for the loss of an entire planetary civilization, sir. Which is why I sent the team down to the surface twenty hours ago to find out what happened – and what you were here to hide.” He paused. “No matter who ordered you here.”

“That does fit with what I recall, yes,” Hoth conceded. “You realize, Daren, that if I *were* ordered to perform this series of actions, then I would have no choice but to enforce those orders with all available means?”

Well, there it was. “I do, sir.”

“Then we seem to be heading towards a confrontation that I doubt very much either of us wants to arrive at, Daren.” Hoth regarded him calmly. “I trust you have some proposition that will allow us to avoid that?”

Daren relaxed slightly. There was still a way out of this without a fight – which was good, because he’d surrender to Hoth before letting anyone die over this. There’d been enough death already. Like the story he remembered from his childhood about the man that leapt on a tiger’s back to avoid being eaten even though he knew the tiger wasn’t going to a place he wanted to be, he was trapped, he couldn’t get off. “Yes, sir, I do have a few suggestions,” he admitted. “For instance….”

"Ride The Tiger" Part 3

Primary Characters:

Admiral Jurgen Hoth
Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lt. Commander Cassius Henderson
Major Saladin Bolivar
Sub-Commander Savar tr'Khellian
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff

Secondary Characters:

Commander John Zaletta
Lt. (JG) Cameron Bartlett
Ensign Rima Pennington

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 8
XO's Conference Room

Zalletta froze, eyes on Krieghoff, and that gave both Hoth and Daren the time to speak.

“Stand down, John.”

“At ease, Lieutenant.”

For a moment, no one moved as four hearts beat in a carefully measured rhythm – and then Krieghoff shook himself once, like he were an animal shedding water from its coat, and the overwhelming presence emanating from him faded, leaving only the lesser, but still palpable, one he bore with him all the time. “Aye, sir,” he nodded.

Zalletta looked as if he were going to draw his concealed weapon anyway, but stopped when Hoth spoke again. “John.”

The Commander nodded and slowly drew his empty hand out and held it away from his to demonstrate it was weaponless. “Yes, sir,” he responded with suppressed anger.

Hoth studied the situation for a moment and then asked, “You didn’t kill either of them, did you, Lieutenant?”

Without looking at either of the two men, Krieghoff answered. “No, sir.”

“You’re sure about that?”

Krieghoff smiled, and Daren saw something he’d never thought to see: Jurgen Hoth flinch away from someone. Not much, but just enough that it was visible if you were looking at him when it happened. “If I’d meant to kill them, sir, you’d know it.”

“Ah. I see.” Hoth never took his eyes off Krieghoff. “Daren? I presume there’s some reason for the presence of the Lieutenant here?”

“Mutiny?” Zalletta offered, his face red with anger.

“Actually,” Daren’s voice was calmer than he’d expected, “I had security dispatch someone to facilitate your placing me under arrest, Admiral.”

Zalletta snorted, but Hoth nodded slowly. “Very well. Now, Lieutenant….”

“Krieghoff, sir,” Daren, offered.

“Thank you, Daren. Lieutenant Krieghoff, would please enlighten us as to why you felt the need to… demolish… my security team?”

“The one on my right had his weapon set into the lethal range, sir. I believed he intended to fire on Captain M’Kantu, so I eliminated that possibility.”

“His weapon was set into the lethal range?” Zalletta’s voice was openly skeptical to the point of being scornful. “You expect us to believe that you saw that in the instant the door opened?”

“It’s easily verified, John,” Hoth said mildly. “All we have to do is examine the phaser.” He paused. “With the Lieutenant’s permission, of course.”

“You don’t need my permission, Admiral.” Krieghoff pointed without looking. “It’s under the conference table to your left, Commander.”

Zalletta eyed Krieghoff for a moment, then slowly moved and bent down to pick it up. The Commander lifted the weapon, turned it over – and froze.

Daren held his breath, waiting for everything to fall apart again.

After a moment, Hoth asked, “Well, John?”

“It’s… set on Setting Seven, sir.” Zalletta sounded as if he couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or not.

Daren let his breath out, and then frowned. The man had really had his phaser set that high? There wasn’t a reason for that unless he’d intended to kill someone.

“How interesting,” Hoth said slowly. “How very interesting.”

“Admiral, I…” Zalletta began.

“No, it’s all right, John,” Hoth waved a hand, apparently having decided that he could move again without attracting the wrong sort of attention from Krieghoff. “They weren’t your men, I don’t hold you responsible.” He glanced at the two officers. ‘But I will be interested in hearing what they have to say for themselves – and who that phaser was meant for – when they awaken in the brig.”

“I’ll take care of that, sir,” Zalletta said grimly.

“That’s an… impressive… young man you have there, Daren,” Hoth observed, looking away from Krieghoff for the first time. “Did he come with the ship, or did you bring him along with you?”

“He was… here aboard the Galaxy already, sir,” Daren responded. At the moment, he thought it impolitic to mention that the man was also being transferred off at the first opportunity.

Hoth nodded. “I’m curious, Lieutenant,” he asked. “What were you going to do if you discovered that Captain M’Kantu was in the act of committing an offense that merited the use of deadly force?”

Krieghoff smiled that disturbing smile again. “I would have eliminated that threat, too, sir.”

“Of course you would. And if it had been I that was committing the act?”

“I would have had to have killed you, sir. The captain too, for that matter. Both of you were too far away for anything else.”

Zalletta looked less than thrilled at that, but didn’t speak up.

Hoth, to Daren’s surprise, seemed to take in the same controlled stride that he took everything. Perhaps the old warbird had really had his blood replaced with phaser coolant the way coffee table scuttlebutt claimed. “Killed me?” he eyed the distance between them. “Are you sure, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir.” Krieghoff held up his left hand and rotated his wrist to display the previously hidden Phaser-1 concealed there.

“You are aware, being in Security, that those weapons have non-lethal settings, are you not, Lieutenant?” To Daren, it appeared that Hoth, perversely, had begun to enjoy the conversation.

Krieghoff didn’t blink. “Yes, sir.”

“But you would have chosen not to use one?”

“Yes, sir.”

Daren had a sudden bad feeling about where the conversation was about to go.

“Why?” Hoth got the question out before Daren could interrupt.

“You’re not a young man, sir,” Krieghoff’s answer was flat and emotionless. “You’re unlikely to be able to physically threaten the Captain, who’s younger, bigger, and in better shape than you. You’re not carrying a weapon. Were you to be a creditable threat, you would need to be something other than you appear – something that didn’t need a weapon to be dangerous. In that case, a stun setting was too risky, here are too many things that it won’t work on. Better to kill you and let the forensic techs sort the truth out.”

“And Commander Zalletta?”

Daren was certain this answer wasn’t one that he wanted to hear either.

“He was never a threat, sir. The positioning was all wrong, and he wasn’t angry enough. You might kill someone without an emotional investment, be he couldn’t. He’d need to be angry or scared and he wasn’t enough of either.”

“You could tell all that from the doorway, Lieutenant?” Hoth asked skeptically.

Krieghoff smiled again, and Daren wondered again how anyone could stand to be near the man to work with him. “Yes, sir, he didn’t smell of fear enough to be a killer. Not then.”

Hoth appeared to work on that statement for a second, and that gave Daren the opportunity to say, “Lieutenant, see to securing these men for transport back to the Nimitz.” He paused. “Alive, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir,” Krieghoff answered with a nod bending down to take each man by the collar. “They’ll be waiting in Transporter Room 5, sir.” He patted the men down professionally, confiscated their communicators, a Type 1 phaser, and several small effects that he left on the conference table by Zalletta, and started to drag the men out.

“Lieutenant,” Hoth spoke up as the door opened. “You said that Commander Zalletta didn’t smell of enough fear to be a danger before… but that he did now?”

“Yes, sir.” Krieghoff looked over his shoulder and Daren shivered despite himself at the slight smile on the man’s face and what it did to his features. “He’s scared enough now – you all are. I can smell it from here.”

“I… see.”

Daren reflected that this might be the only time in history that Jurgen Hoth had been at a loss for words.

Krieghoff waited a moment more, then nodded to Daren specifically and exited the room, the unconscious men’s feet trailing behind him.

Everyone was silent for a moment, and then Jurgen turned to Daren, his expression as cool as always. “Well, now that charming interruption is over with, where were we Daren?”

Daren refused to play the polite game. “I was suggesting that you were here to clean up after yourself and find a scapegoat for the loss of an entire planetary civilization, sir. Which is why I sent the team down to the surface twenty hours ago to find out what happened – and what you were here to hide.” He paused. “No matter who ordered you here.”

“That does fit with what I recall, yes,” Hoth conceded. “You realize, Daren, that if I *were* ordered to perform this series of actions, then I would have no choice but to enforce those orders with all available means?”

Well, there it was. “I do, sir.”

“Then we seem to be heading towards a confrontation that I doubt very much either of us wants to arrive at, Daren.” Hoth regarded him calmly. “I trust you have some proposition that will allow us to avoid that?”

Daren relaxed slightly. There was still a way out of this without a fight – which was good, because he’d surrender to Hoth before letting anyone die over this. There’d been enough death already. Like the story he remembered from his childhood about the man that leapt on a tiger’s back to avoid being eaten even though he knew the tiger wasn’t going to a place he wanted to be, he was trapped, he couldn’t get off. “Yes, sir, I do have a few suggestions,” he admitted. “For instance….”

"A Tale of Two Quakes"

By
Lt. Curtis Geluf, Chief of OPS
Cmdr. Rebecca Von Ernst

Ens. Gerold Thorn (NPC)
Other various Pc's and NPC's

(QUENTIN)

It had only just occurred to Curtis. He'd been walking towards the source of the tachyon pulses for a good twenty minutes now. Not looking back, not even really thinking at all. Focused on one thing and one thing alone: voices. He needed to hear voices. And if getting to those pulses would help, then he was going to the pulses.

Not a very logical train of thought, to be sure. But the Kerelian was past logic at this point. Beyond it.

It was then a random circuit fired off in his brain, reminding him of his job, what he was there for. He should report in. Tell them what he saw. Yes, that was it, voices were just a com badge tap away.

"Lt. Geluf to Commander Von Ernst." He said to the badge.

The reply was a bit surprising however. Instead of the crisp, clear static-free response typical of high quality Federation Com Gear, the XO's response was almost carried away by the squeaks and squawks of massive interference.

Apparently the Tricorders were not the only thing on the fritz.

=/\= . . .von Ernst . . .here.. . . .What. . .do.. . . .want Lieutenant? =/\=

Quickly Curtis relayed the discovery of the Tachyon emissions to the Commander. Considering the negative Tricorder readings up to now, he expected her to be pleased by the turn of events.

Not so.

There was an uncomfortable pause for several seconds during which the hissing static was the only thing to be heard. Finally Rebecca replied. =/\=Is that. . . it? . . . . . Why have. . . not tried to . . . .wait until you had a full report? =/\=

"A full report? Uh. . .Like don't report in at all until I figured the entire mystery out?"

The XO's exasperated sigh was the only thing perfectly clear over the com.

=/\= That is. . .why. . .we here. Very well. . . . . Lieutenant. . . . . hold position. . . .will be there soon to hold your hand. . . through this investigation. . . .=/\=

With a sigh, Geluf acknowledged and shut down the comm. . . ..just what he needed.

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

A few kilometers away, Rebecca eased her aching bones off of the supply crate she had been sitting on and stretched lazily. This away Team babysitting was really not her cup of cocoa, and the fact that her 'charges' were unable to handle a simple investigation just added to her annoyance.

In reality, Rebecca really didnt have a clue as to what to do to keep busy. Away Team Dynamics were a mystery to her. In Fact, She had the singular distinction in her Academy class to have scored lower on planetary simulations than almost any other cadet in decades.

All in all, her fellow cadets at the time had been less than impressed with performance, and it had only been the fact of her high scores in Theoretical Mathematics and Physics that had boosted her grade point.

Rebecca scrunched her freckled nose at the memory of her Senior Year Escape and Evasion Survival Simulation.

The scenario dropped each cadet in the midst of a hostile environment withthe goal being to see how long one could survive with nothing save a small phaser and a tricorder to support oneself.

The record was somewhere around 6 weeks, with most cadets topping out at about 2-3 weeks.

Cadet von Ernst had made Academy history, when 15 seconds after beaming down into a simulated jungle, she tripped over a fallen vine, and accidentally zapped herself with her own phaser in the fall.

That incident had even eclipsed the time she suffered 80% casualties during a simulated mission to the Tribble homeworld. She shuddered at the memory. ~~~Who knew little fuzzballs could be so noodling dangerous? ~~~

As she finished her stretch and yawn she saw James Corgan trot by heading back for the shuttle. Hopefully she'd have the results of that starshot soon, and be able to figure out where. . . .and when. . . . they were.

Still there were other matters to deal with as well.

Whatever Geluf found would have to be investigated, though she really didn't see why she had to be personally involved.

Gathering up her supply bundle. . ( a small pack she thought of as a purse) she started to walk back over to OPAKA while scanning the horizon off to the East.

She could see SERENGHETI and Suder's crew milling about their landing site, and was thankful at least he wasnt bothering her with every little detail.

That's when the Earth suddenly burped and threw her skinny little frame crashing into the dust!

~~EARTHQUAKE~~ she thought automatically. Her years at the Academy in San Francisco had familiarized Rebecca with the concept of earth-tremors, but even so it was a frightening experience. There had been minor quakes earlier in the day, but this one seemed to be a doozy.

Frantically grasping her fingers in the dust for something to hold onto she attempted to ride out the event.

It was then as she ineffectually lay on the rumbling ground that SERENGHETI disappeared before her eyes sinking into the earth beneath amidst a pillar of grey dust.

~~~Well noodles.~~~ she fretted, ~~~Now this silly planet is eating my shuttlecraft.~~~

OPAKA thankfully remained untouched, and soon the massive tremors ceased. The Eerie silence of Quentin once more rang loufdly in her ears. Rising and wiping the dust from her EVA suit, Rebecca limped over to OPAKA and stuck her helmeted head inside the door.

Inside James Corgan was slowly picking himself off the cabin floor, but seemed none the worse for wear.

"Got another job for you James," she said without preamble. "Round up a couple of guys who look like they arent doing anything and send them over to the SERENGHETI landing site. I think Suder and friends just got squished."

"Next," she added before Corgan could reply, "Gather up the rest, and follow me out to see whatever that Geluf guy has found. . . I have to make an appearance and at least look official."

With that she popped her head back out and gathered up her stuff to head out. . . . . .

=======

2 Hours and 5 kilometers later, Rebecca von Ernst led her little investigatory party over yet another wind-blasted hill and paused to examine the scene before her.

The dreary march up the cavern-pitted coastline had been an unusually arduous one for the hapless away team. Apparently millennia of wind and rain had polished the oceanside rocks into a bewildering array of razor sharp sculptures, as slippery as they were dangerous.

Already one of the party had to be sent back to the OPAKA with a nasty gash to the leg following a tumble.

"Thats it up ahead." Curtis Geluf was saying, motioning with his tricorder. "I still cant read anything else, but I'm positive the source of the Tachyon bursts are somewhere down there."

~~~Down there.~~~Rebecca grimaced. ~~~Is an awfully big place.~~~ Before the small party lay what could be described as a large half-moon bay perhaps two miles across at its mouth. Curving walls of sheer, razor rock, stretched out and around throwing twin arms protectively about the coastal waters like a lovers embrace.

>From their vantage, they could see that, like the rest of the strange >beach, the shoreline here was pitted with numerous sea-caves both above and below the waterline, the latter visible only with the gentle ebb of the tides.

"Scans definitely getting stronger Ma'am." Geluf announced again. "Looks to be bearing 045 from present heading."

Rebecca glanced at the man, wondering what kind of a noodlehead described things in terms of headings and bearings when they were all on foot.

"What do you suggest Mr. Geluf?" she asked sarcastically, "All ahead Warp 2, or do we reverse engines back towards the shuttles?"

Nobody in the party especially appreciated the humor.

"Right." Rebecca sighed. "Continue scanning and lets keep going."

Slowly and painfully the Away Team picked its way across the rocky terrain, thankfully avoiding any serious spills.

The silence was deafening, except for the eerie pulsating warble emitting from Geluf's Tricorder with increasing regularity. Tachyon emissions tended to be artificial in origin, and their presence her on this dead world indicated a possible sign of life where none other seemed to exist.

Slowly Rebecca slid down a cliff-face amidst t clatter of dust and pebbles. The debris plopped wetly into the dark waters below, and the tiny redhead had to shake off the uncomfortable impression that the murky depths were watching her.

~~~Get real, bird brain.~~~ she chided herself. ~~~Now you're afraid of the water?~~~

"SIGNALS!!" Gelufs excited cry from behind her almost caused her to jump out of her skin and go flailing into the aforementioned water.

"I. . I'm picking up some localization on the Tachyon bursts!" the officer announced excitedly.

Mentally barbecuing the man over a fiery spit in her minds eye, Rebecca flipped open her own tricorder for verification.

It was true.

Where once there were only brief Tachyon pulsations, there now existed a hazy series of energy blobs discernable just ahead.

She gazed out across the shoreline into a particularly nasty looking series of caves and grottos.

"Seems to be just inside that cliff-face." she remarked to nobody n particular. "Perhaps inside those caves."

A simple shrug from the others indicated that was a distinct possibility.

Rebecca studied the glowing blobs on her tricorder intensely for a few moments. She rather wished she had more of a clue as to how to operate the silly device beyond the mere basics, but then again. . . .gizmos were not her forte.

"Right. . ." she said again to herself. "I need a scan of. . . . .WHOA---YELP!!!"

With a cry of surprise, Rebecca was thrown to the ground by yet another Earthquake. . . . .this time the nastiest one yet.

Starfleet officers yelled and scrambled about for cover, as the ground beneath them heaved and groaned, as if protesting their walkign upon it.

Desperately Rebecca and the others clung to the ground, attempting to keep themselves from being tossed into the waters below.

Sharp rocks and pebbles dug painfully into their skin, ripping tears into flesh and fabric both.

~~~Ow Ow Ow OW OW ow!!!!~~~ Rebecca thought to herself teeth chattering from the tremors. . . .~~~Its like sitting on top of a giant vibrating cheese grater. . .with me being the cheese!!!~~~

The Away Team watched in amazement as a quite visible shockwave snaked its way across the surface of the bay's dark waters propelled by tremors from below. The shoreline seemed to boil with the vibrations, and great clouds of dust rose like apilalr into the silvery skies above.

Above all was the noise. Like being tossed into a cement mixer full of marbles.

Somebody was screaming "stopitstopitstopitstopit!!!!" in the distance, but Rebecca's brain was too rattled to figure out who. . . . .maybe she was the one screaming.

And then like a light switch it was over. The Water calmed down with a quiet 'slosh', and the ground beneath them stopped twisting like a whirling dervish. The silence of Quentin once again slapped them in the face, punctuated only by the muffled groans and coughs of the recovering party.

~~~I feel like I went through a popcorn popper full of jumping beans. . .~~~ Rebecca thought irrationally to herself as she painfully picked herself off the sharp rocks.

The rest of the crew was in about the same shape. They were wearing out. . .physically and emotionally. In the few short hours since their arrival, they had experienced no less than 4 quakes, one of which seemingly swallowed the shuttle SERENGHETI before their eyes.

Throw in the fact that they didn't know WHERE In creation they were located, and it made for a pretty bleary existence.

~~~Join Starfleet. . .See the universe. . . .Get Eaten by Bug-eyed monsters and squished by Alien Earthquakes. . .~~~ Rebecca thought ruefully.

As she stood however all other thoughts faded from her mind. . . . .

"Holeeee. . . ." someone whispered behind her.

Not 400 meters in front of them, there lay a hazy cloud of dust where the seaside cliff once stood. Its remnants had crumbles away and crashed into the foaming waters below, as evidenced by a brown slick of mud still visible on the surface.

What was revealed beneath however. . . . .THAT was what drew all eyes. . .

"It. . .it. . it. . ." someone stammered.

"Its a city of some sort. . .buried ruins!"

IT was then with a sudden CHIRRUP! of Power that everyone's tricorders simultaneously came alive at once, causing all to jump.

Sensors, it seemed, were back on line.

[Backpost]

"Comfort"

(Occurs seven hours after 'Shuttle ride to... where?')

Principal Characters:

Lt. Ella Grey
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 7
Victor Krieghoff's quarters

The room was empty.

That simple realization came to him suddenly. In the days that had passed since his meeting with Captain M'Kantu, and Grey's last visit, he'd done nothing but sit here and wait for the word to come when he wasn't on duty - even now, tired from damage control operations, he was doing it still - and in all that time he hadn't noticed, hadn't realized, how empty the room was with what few things he'd let himself set out gone.

He missed the smells from his plants, missed the memories that the few pictures he'd set out had sparked when he saw them, missed even the bits of color that had started to accumulate here and there. A purple stylus Grey had left one night, the green Marine-issue coffee mug that Gunny Goldstein had loaned him and that he'd never had a chance to return. Signs that he belonged here, that he'd found a place where he could stay.

Signs that were gone, just like he was. Like the people on the planet below them. Like Counselor Dallas and Legate Curran.

M'Kantu didn't seem like a bad man, but he was going to transfer Victor nonetheless. Who could blame him? It wasn't as if every one of his concerns wasn't something that Victor himself accepted as valid. Even if he was hung out to dry over the destruction of Quentin his replacement certainly would. The problem was, Victor didn't want to go. For the first time, even more than at DS9, he didn't want to leave. He belonged here, he'd found a place here... he was home.

He should have known better, he reflected. He should have known that he couldn't stay. He should never have let himself think for a moment that he might, this time, fit in. It wasn't to be. Just like talking to Grey wasn't to be, or talking to the Gunny had been. Whether they left or he did, the result was always the same. Better to stop trying, to just be who and what he was and let things happen the way they would. That was honest, anyway.

He turned in his chair and looked out at the stars as they moved by, just like he'd been doing since the day he'd found out he was going to be left behind again. The stars were always there for him, moving by in their silent river. They, at least wouldn't leave. They would always be there, cool and silent and far, far away.

Far away. Like home. Like the Galaxy.

Ella rubbed her head absently. The medics had fixed her scrape but she still felt as if it were there. Maybe it was exhaustion. They had gotten the ship running, finally, after hours of work. Suder had finally told her to get some rest.

So she had come to Victor's. Without thinking. Without even changing. Hope he didn't mind.

She rang the buzzer even though she knew his alarm system, unless that had been packed along with his things, would alert him to her presence.

Victor didn't bother to turn around - he could see the door in the reflection off the viewport. Besides, what was the point? "Enter."

It was Grey. Tired, dirty, swaying on her feet.

~~Got a couch I can crash on, Tiger?~~ Ella signed with stiff fingers.

Victor closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't want this contact, didn't want her here, didn't want anything that would make leaving worse than it already was. He didn't understand why, but he knew that the more he saw of her, the harder leaving was going to be on him. Friends must not like to leave friends behind.

At the same time, he realized he couldn't send her away. Like Rissa, she needed him to keep her monsters at bay and after the day the ship had had, he knew hers would be back. Friends didn't like to abandon friends either.

"No," he said, his vice harsher than he'd realized from the smoke he'd breathed all day.

A sound of surprise escaped her mouth before she could stop herself. Ella inhaled sharply and tried to process what he was telling her. More distancing, she thought. And she was too tired to deal with it. ~~Fine.~~ she signed, even though he wasn't looking.

"Not like that," he continued, unaware of the look on Grey's face with his eyes still closed. He stood, still not looking her way. "Shower first - I'll get you something to wear."

Ella smiled slightly and shuffled off to the sonic shower. If she had more energy she might have tried to tease him into coming in with her. As it was, she just started systematically removing her clothes, once in the bathroom. The sooner the shower the sooner she could sleep.

Victor turned and opened his eyes to watch her move slowly towards the shared bathroom. ~ Looks like she was beaten with clubs - at least she moves like it. ~ He pushed away the memory of falling to the deck under a hail of blows from Klingon pain sticks and walked into the bedroom to return a moment later with a dark sleeveless shirt and shorts and move to the bathroom. ~Might as well let her use these since she ordered them - I won't need them for my next shore leave.~

Ella stepped in the shower and pushed the button....

....and yelped as scalding water hit her.

She leapt from the shower, her heart pounding, and barely managed to cover herself with the first towel she could find before Victor burst in the room.

~~I wasn't expecting water.~~ Ella signed sheepishly and then moved her hands to make sure the towel was secure.

"Don't like the sonic shower," Victor explained. "Doesn't make me feel clean when I'm done." He set the garments on the edge of the sink. "Clothes to change into." He turned back to her. "No one in the adjoining cabin, you won't be interrupted."

Ella sighed slightly, dropped the towel, and eased back into the shower after he left. The hot water felt surprisingly good and she stayed under longer than usual. She turned off the shower, dried off, and put on the clothes that he had given her. They were large, Ella thought, but she hadn't been sizing them for her when she had bought them. Ella went back out into the living room. ~~Thanks~~

Victor nodded wordlessly from his position back by the viewport. He'd shed the torn and scorched uniform jacket, exposing the mirroring scorch marks and tears on his issue tunic, and the fainter ones below that on his person.

She eyed the replicator, suddenly deciding she was hungry. ~~When was the last time you ate?~~

"Last night." Victor's rasping monotone couldn't disguise how tired he was.

~~Dinner for two then.~~ Ella moved slowly to the replicator to program two turkey sandwiches and then brought them back over. She gave him his and then eased herself onto the couch. Mmmm, she thought. Heaven. She began scarf her food.

Victor looked at the sandwich, looked at her, and then sat down at the desk and slowly took a bite.

She paused in eating, holding her sandwich in one hand and tapping her throat with the other and then pointing at him.

"What?" he said. "My voice?" He shrugged. "Lots of people hurt worse. It'll get better."

Ella set the sandwich down. ~~You should be seen. But you won't of course. I won't bother.~~ She picked up her food again and continued to eat mechanically. Chew, chew, swallow...

"Can't be off duty, Grey." He took a bit of his sandwich again and chewed it. "Too many wounded."

She polished off the rest of her food. ~~Backup officers.~~ Ella managed, not caring about using whole sentences anymore.

"On Gamma shift, maybe. Not on Alpha. No one to replace me."

Ella nodded. She was clean and fed and ready to sleep. But she wanted to make sure he was okay. She waited until he was done eating half of the sandwich, which seemed all he was going to eat, before she pointed at the bathroom. ~~Go shower.~~

Victor looked for a moment like he would protest, then nodded once and stood up, the movement enough unlike his normal way of doing so that Ella understood him to be as tired as she. He moved into the bedroom, returned with clothing in one hand, and crossed the room to the bathroom door, almost running into the edge of the doorframe. After a minute, the sound of the water running began.

She boosted herself off the couch, a bit wobbly, when he returned. ~~Come, sleep.~~

He'd been dreading this. She needed him to help her sleep again, and he didn't want to. He'd almost pushed things away enough that he could deal with being transferred again, he was almost able to deal with this - and this would undo that. If he helped her sleep, he'd be right back where he started again. "Can't - things to do, Grey." That was true enough. There were always things to do if he looked hard enough. "Go on, I'll be there later."

~~Can't work if exhausted, Tiger. Not much good to ship that way.~~

He wasn't any good to the ship as it was - the Captain had made that clear enough. "I'll check on you later."

Ella pouted out her lip and widened her eyes. ~~I don't want to be alone.~~ It was bit over the top, she figured. But she was too tired to try to be subtle. ~~Please.~~

Victor closed his eyes and ignored the slight sway in his stance that developed immediately. He really didn't need to do this. He needed to leave, or make her leave. Anything else was just making things worse. There was no point in being her friend when it was over the moment he transferred. There was no point in...

Ella sighed loudly as she grabbed his hand and started to pull him in the direction of the bedroom. Begging to have someone sleep with me, Ella said to herself. Pretty sad, Ella my dear. She stopped before the bed.

~~I don't care if you're transferred to the Delta Quadrant. You'll still be my friend. So stop being so bloody difficult and get in this bed with me.~~

Victor thought about pulling away, but his hand wouldn't move. He examined the failure and admitted that it was because he didn't *want* to move, because he wanted, needed even, the contact with another person that Grey's hold on his hand provided. ~She's figured it out,~ he conceded. ~Just like Ar'resh and Rexa did. They can get me to agree to any of their bad plans or attempts to set me up with someone as long as they just touch me.~

He nodded once, and moved past the small stack of bags that he was obviously living out of, his open closet and empty drawers revealing that he'd already packed all his things away, to sit on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. His eyes looked out the smaller viewport to the stars flowing by as he listened to Grey move to the other side of the bed and relax onto it with a small sound of relief. ~I'm tired of being left behind.~

Ella rubbed his shoulder lightly in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. He turned away from the stars, his eyes filled with pain. Too tired to completely hold it in, she imagined. ~~Sleep now, sweetie. Worry about it later.~~

He frowned and nodded again, the shoulder under her hand so stiff that it felt like tritanium.

She ruffled his hair a bit and pulled him down so that they were stretched out on the bed. Ella yawned loudly but decided she would wait to sleep until he did.

Victor lay there, his eyes on the ceiling, for over five minutes before he finally closed them. A minute later, perhaps two, and Ella realized that he had relaxed somewhat, nothing like the way he'd been the nights she'd been here before his meeting with the Captain, but enough that he could sleep. His breathing slowed and fell into a rhythm as he finally let go.

And then, finally, Ella could let herself sleep.

****

Victor's eyes opened, his transition from sleep, as always, to wakefulness almost instant. Grey's scent filled his nostrils, hints of his soap and shampoo's smell mingled with hers in a way he wasn't used to. It wasn't unpleasant - just different.

She had rolled into him, with her arm lying across him protectively. Whether she was trying to give comfort or seeking it, he didn't know. Her head rested on his shoulder and one leg had moved to twist with his.

He lay there for a long moment before he looked up and checked the time display on the ceiling. Only six hours had passed, but that was as much as he normally slept. The times she'd stayed over before, Grey had slept for a solid eight hours and he doubted she'd sleep less than that as tired as she'd been.

Which left him, as always, with two hours where he could do nothing but lie there, look at her, and think - or risk waking her. He didn't mind the time to think, at least not normally. It was different now, he was leaving and that made it different. There wouldn't be any more nights where Grey came to have him chase her monsters away, no more mornings where he woke up like a real person, with someone there, touching him. That contact was going to ache with its absence, just like it had when he'd left DS9 and Rissa. Perhaps even worse, he hadn't decided. Grey was a friend, and he and Rissa hadn't been friends, not if what he and Grey were was what that was supposed to be like.

He looked down at her as she lay there against him. She'd been the one to seek him out this time in her sleep it seemed. Usually when he woke, he was the one that had reached out to provide security to her. He wondered why it was different this time, and then discarded the idea. Perhaps he'd just been too tired to move and she'd sought the security she needed the only way she could.

For just a moment he let himself wonder what things would be like if he were different, if he were human, and she were lying here with him, warm and soft, for another reason - and then crushed those thoughts quickly and ruthlessly. He wasn't human, not really, and thoughts like that weren't for him. All that letting himself entertain them would get him was more pain, and he had enough of that for now. More than enough.

He shifted position slightly, felt her stir in her sleep, and moved his arm to hold her still, his hand naturally falling along her hip and sliding back along it to the curve of her rear, supporting her there as he brought his other hand up to her shoulder and pressed her down against him, supporting her. She needed the sleep, and if she moved around too much she'd wake up.

****

Ella awoke slowly, her eyes heavy and refusing to open at first. She rubbed them and then stretched, moving her arm across the bed.

Not the bed, Ella suddenly realized. Victor's chest. Her mouth shaped into an 'o' and she might have jumped up if she hadn't realized that his arms were holding her to him intimately. She sucked in a breath, now terribly awake, and wondered why she did this to herself. Another test of willpower? Ella snorted and then moved her head.

Victor was awake and looking at her.

She felt the blush beginning to pinken her cheeks. Ella sat up slowly, internally wincing at how his arms moved away quickly rather than slide (which would probably have been worse in the long run, she supposed) and popped her knuckles before signing.

~~You're comfortable.~~ She signed with a smile.

"Tired as you were, the outer hull would have been comfortable, Grey." Victor shifted position so he was more sitting up than reclined, the muscles in his arms and chest working briefly. "Feel better?"

She nodded and then pointed at him.

"I slept as much as I always do," he replied, as if that answered the question.

Ella checked the time and found that she had another hour before she was supposed to report in. She scooted back and rested her back against the headboard. ~~Can I stay for awhile or is this where you tell me to leave because it's better that way?~~

"No PT with the Marines this morning," Victor answered. "I don't have anywhere to go." He looked at the ceiling for a time in silence. "You can stay if you want to."

~~I want to.~~ Ella replied before stretching and yawning.

"I hate this," he said suddenly.

Ella dropped her arms. ~~Hate what?~~

"Being helpless like this. Not knowing."

~~The transfer?~~

"No, I mean the planet - what happened there. I hate that. There should be something to do, and there isn't. Just wait. I'm not good at that unless it's waiting for prey."

Ella shrugged. After spending hours upon hours helping to get Galaxy up and running again, as much as she loved tinkering with the ship, she didn't mind waiting. ~~There will be, Tiger. Isn't there always? Personally, I could use the break.~~

Victor looked across the room at the arrangement of shipping containers his possessions were packed in. "Yes, there's always prey - or something that needs to be shown that it's prey." He was silent for a moment. "I still owe you a fight, Grey."

She yawned again as she tilted her head.

"The second one I promised you. The one I lost. I owe that to you before I leave. I haven't forgotten."

Neither had she. ~~I'll admit that I'm curious but I don't think I want to watch another fight like the last one.~~ The memory of watching an impaled Victor still creeped her out. ~~Besides, I'm still waiting to see what happens.~~

"It isn't like the last one. I lose this one." Victor paused. "It's here, on the Galaxy." He looked away again. "I'll run it for you before I go."

Ella rolled her eyes. ~~You seem to be in more of a rush to leave than M'Kantu is to transfer you. Come on, Victor. I'm trying to be optimistic here.~~

"Why?"

~~Because I'm trying to turn over a new leaf~~ Ella's hands signed dryly.

"Why be optimistic? We both know he's transferring me as soon as he gets the chance."

~~Maybe.~~ Ella reminded him.

"Grey," he said quietly. "*I'd* transfer me if I were in his position."

~~Well, I wouldn't.~~ She replied. ~~Let's not talk about it, Tiger. We're never going to agree.~~

"No, we won't." He closed his eyes and leaned back, not speaking for a long time. "I'll miss talking to you, Grey," he said quietly just as Ella thought he'd gone back to sleep.

Me too, Ella thought. She scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. ~~I've got about twenty minutes left to cat nap~~ She told him when he opened his eyes.

"Go on and sleep then, Grey." He shifted slightly. "I've got to report to Security Main about the same time. I'll wake you."

One side of her mouth tilted upward. ~~One day you'll let me comfort you for a change.~~ She closed her eyes and let herself rest.

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