"Transfers"

Ilunya

USS Archer

...Ready Room...

...USS Hood....

"Echoes... echoes.... echoesss..."

Principal Characters:

Captain M'Kantu
Lieutenant Geluf
Lieutenant' Rex

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Bridge Turbolift

Corran found that he was getting more and more impatient as the turbolift rode it's way up to the bridge. His hand tapped repeatedly at his thigh, drawing a stare from the Kerelian OPs officer, Curtis Geluf. "Sorry." he said quietly, and stopped the repetitive noise.

The door opened a heartbeat later, and the two Lieutenants strolled out onto the bridge. Commander Von Ernst was seated in the Command chair, kicking her not-quite-long-enough legs at the empty air. Savar, the Romulan exchange officer, was standing near the Tactical railing talking about something or other with Cass Henderson.

"Looks like the Captain's in the Ready Room, then." the Trill said to Geluf in a low tone.

Curtis nodded. "Looks like. Let's go." he replied, and rang the doorchime on the Ready Room a moment later.

"Enter." M'Kantu's voice sounded tired, and just distracted enough that it was audible. As the door slid aside, Curtis could see Von Ernst glance towards the door with a frown and realized that she must have heard it too. Corran wasn't entirely certain, but he was beginning to wonder if the Captain had had his own.. visions.

Inside, M'Kantu was standing at the long viewport that ran down the side of the room, a forgotten cup of coffee in his hand, the beverage cool enough that it no longer left a vapor trail on the tranparent metal of the viewport. He turned as Curtis and Corran entered the room, moving forward and setting the coffee on his desk. "Mr. Geluf, Mr. Rex, what seems to be the problem?"

"Captain..." the Trill began, looking a tad uncomfortable. "This is going to sound crazy, but...." he paused, and looked at the OPs Manager. "You explain."

"There's something.... not right.... er... or at least, we THINK something's not right.... but we don't know..." Curtis stammered, falling over his own words.

M'Kantu crossed his arms and looked back and forth between the two officers. "Perhaps you might need to wait until you *are* sure then, gentlemen?"

"We're remembering things...things that for all intents and purposes, didn't happen. At least, as far as we know." The Kerelian said, "I remember going down to the planet, it was a wasteland. Earthquakes all over, and some strange ruins. I went back up to the Galaxy with Savoie, but it wasn't there... it had been... destroyed."

"I.. remembered... actually, experienced is probably a better word, something corellary to that. Take it from someone who's used to hearing voices in their head, Captain. Something extremely ... strange is going on here. So far it's just the two of us - but we haven't asked anyone else yet. Plus," Corran replied, drawing the plasteel container with the shrapnel in it out of his flightsuit's pocket. "There's this. This is a piece of canopy. In my - my vision, or... whatever it was, my cockpit was shot open, and this was embedded in my arm. Exactly where the Doctor found it." Corran watched the elder - though that was a relative term, wasn't it? Since his joining with Rex, Corran now had the experiences of over five centuries of life - man as he listed to their explanations, and M'Kantu's own reply. "You know something, don't you, sir?" he asked quietly.

M'Kantu frowned and took the container from Corran, turning it over in his hands for a moment before he sighed. "Before we go any further, I have to tell you that I remember things too. Things that didn't happen - although I had no physical evidence to back it up. I'm going to need to record a statement to transmit to starfleet, it's reqiired in the case of a temporal incident." He reached over to turn on the cabin recorder from his desk. "Regulations stipulate I have to record this, gentlemen. Now, what, exactly, do you two think you remember. Be as precise as you can without taking an hour each."

"I remember the team beaming down, and Quentin's surface being destroyed in a firestorm. I remember Admiral Hoth arriving with three ships, - the Nimitz, the Hood, and the Pershing. One of Nimitz' squadrons - the White Knights, I beleive, I'm not sure, though - started a fight with ours. Reinforcement fighters from the Hood on the Kinght's side forced Galaxy into a fight with the other capital ships. Vanguard couldn't withdraw, because the Knights wouldn't back down. I remember the battle, I remember my canopy rupturing and slicing my arm before my suit sealed. And.. I remember seeing the Galaxy's secondary hull crashing into the Nimitz, and seeing the saucer head down to the planet in flames." Rex explained, a haunted expression clearly visible in his eyes, the day's oddness giving his thoughts and words and unaccustomed sureity. Rarely was it that he was able to think so structured. "I don't know what it is sir, but more and more of it is coming back to me. My.. condition.. may have some kind of unforseen reaction to temporal events."

Curtis simply shook his head. "I;m not as lucky, si. Things are a lot more vague for me. I was part of a team that went down to the planet. There were some ruins that we found - we found the saucer of the Galaxy, thirty years old."

M'Kantu nodded slowly. "I remember that - some of it anyway. I remember the saucer crashing..." He looked away for a moment. "And... other things." He looked at Corran and Curtis for a moment. "Is there anything else that stands out? Anything that you recall more vividly than the rest of it?"

Corran shook his head. Geluf nodded, though. "Wait - there was one more thing. A survivor. We'd brought her back with us in the shuttle, one the way back to the ship, when everything... changed."

The Captain nodded once again. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, gentlemen. I was beginning to think I'd had some sort of particularly bad dream. Report to me if you remember anything else."

M'Kantu's tone was a clear dismissal, and both the Lieutenants recognized it as such. With simple "aye, sirs.", the nodded, and left the Ready Room. They'd done thier part, at least. What would come of it all.. well, perhaps no one really knew.

"Culture Shock"

by Stash

Introducing Ensign Zeke Wikkins from Security

Location: The living quarters of Ensign Simon Crumbley, Computer Specialist (NPC)

Simon sat behind his desk in complete darkness.

Waiting.

His perfectly manicured fingernails made tiny clacking noises as he rhythmically tapped his slender fingers on the hard surface of the desk top. Behind him were the apartments windows from where could be seen the millions of twinkling stars that hung in space.

Instead he ignored the view.

And continued waiting...until the door chime rang out.

~ Finally! ~ he thought with a slight smile. Since coming aboard, Simon had taken to amusing himself and passing the time by abusing the various roommates that had been assigned to him. When his last roommate, Ensign Roberts, had an "unfortunate" accident with industrial laxative, Simon had actually found himself missing his daily sport.

~ But the game is afoot once more.~ he thought, then promptly removed the smile on his face and steepled his fingers in front of him, though in the darkness it couldn't actually be seen.

"ENTER!" he ordered.

He watched with anticipation as the doors swished open and revealed a massive jumble of shadows. Simon leaned foreword, ever so slightly as the shadow made its way across the threshhold of the room.

~ And he brings with him a mountain of belongings! This will truly be enjoyable.~ the tiny technician thought. The doors swished shut and as he had preprogrammed, a light snapped on above him, bathing him in shadows and lending him a more sinister appearance - or so he believed.

His newest tennent, remained in the shadows, just out of the seated man's view.

"Where are your authorized crew quarters transfer papers?" Simon asked sharply.

"I don't reckon that I know what thou art talking about, fella." a voice rumbled.

Simon drew himself back in his chair. The voice was unlike any other he had heard, more of a strange drawl twisted into words.

Mentally recomposing himself, Simon continued. "Your papers. Present them to me."

"I ain't got no papers. And why are thee sittin in the dark? Would thou like me to light a few candles? I got a bunch in my bag."

"You shall do nothing until I am satisfied that you do indeed belong in this apartment. Is that understood?" Simon said slapping his palm across his desk with a loud thwack.

There was a deep growl that sounded similar to a rockslide. Simon could see the shadow moving towards his desk then in a sudden blur, a large hand came down across the desk missing Simon's own by only a few inches.

"Now sir, I done told thee already that I ain't got no papers. Now thy attitude is startin to really work on my patience. If thou hast issues, I suggest thee take them up elsewhere. Go ahead and sit in the dark if it pleases thee. I can mosey around with no light. Now if thou will pardon me, I best be settelin in." the shadow rumbled, then proceeded to move.

Simon paid him no heed. He was too busy examining his hand and making sure that he still had all his fingers. His head snapped sharply as he heard commotion followed by a loud crashing and the sound of splintering wood. Franticly he leapt out from behind his desk.

"Computer...Lights!" he called out.

The room suddenly was brought to full lighting and the technician nearly fell backwards over his chair, startled at what he was seeing.

There, in the middle of his living room, stood what looked like a mountain with legs in a Starfleet uniform. In his hands were a Starfleet duffle bag and a small cage. The lout was standing on top of his hand carved coffee table, or more accurately, what was left of it. Littered around his feet were broken statues and vases, their flowery contents squished under the man's massive boots.

Simon was appauled.

"What...What the hell are you... what are you doing destroying my personal property? My Gerrenials! My Gerrenials! Do you know how rare they are?! You lummox! Move, quickly!" he said kneeling down and picking up the damaged flowers.

"Now sir, if thou had consented to having a few candles lit, mayhap this current personal crisis of thine could have been avoided." the colossus in the Starfleet uniform said with a shrug or as best an imitation of a shrug as one with no apparent neck could muster.

"This is not the time for a debate! Hurry! Get me some water before it is too late! Run if you must!" Simon said cradling the flowers.

"I am Amish, sir. I do not run. I will fetch some water for thy tulips now. Just hold tight."

"They are not tulips, you cretin! They are Gerrenials! Found blooming only during the 2 week fall period on Risial 7, the only time that they may safely be plucked from the soil for transport." Simon said calling for a vase and water from the replicator and gingerly placing them inside, inspecting each petal for damage.

"I thank thee for information that I shall in all honesty never use in my life."

"If you allowed yourself some time to appreciate beauty and culture instead of honing your dullard's sarcastic wit, you would appreciate what you have nearly ruined here." Simon said drying off his hands on his tunic. "And you failed to answer my querry."

"Perhaps I couldn't hear thy queers through thy girlish squeeling."

"I do not squeal like a girl! And I asked you who you were. If your going to be dwelling here for a SHORT time, I will need to know at least that much." Simon said eyeing the large man suspiciously looking for any perceptible weaknesses he could exploit to his advantage.

"Ensign Zeke Wikkins. Security. And yes, thou did squeal."

"Did not!" Simon snipped.

"Did."

"Not!"

"Did."

"I do not care what you think." the technician said visibly frustrated. "If your going to be living here, there are a few rules and restrictions that you must aquaint yourself with."

"I ain't no longer in the mood for thy comedy. I'm gonna put Josiah down for the night and then speak with my lord, God." the Ensign said, turning to the cage he held.

"What..you have not heard the rules yet!"

"And upon hearing them, I reckon I'll still ignore them." he said placing his cage next to a slightly larger cage that appeared to be housing what looked like a small hommade clay cave.

"What do you think your doing?" Simon asked walking briskly over to the pair of cages.

"I am putting Josiah down. It is difficult to maintain Security while holding a turtle." Zeke rumbled.

"You can not place that there! Turtles and the like frighten Picard!" he said pointing to the cage with the cave inside.

"Picard? You have Captain Picard in a two foot cell?!?"

"Of coarse not, you imbecile. Picard is my pet Lynar, and he frightens easily. You can not have your turtle in such close proximity to him."

The much larger security officer looked at him in surprise "Thou named thy bat Picard?"

Simon looked offended. "I don't suppose you can comprehend the irony of it. Anyone who names their turtle 'Josiah' has an apparent lack of imagination...what..Gates be praised...what in the hell is that smell!" he asked placing his hand over his mouth. "I think I'm going to gag!!"

"That would be me. I beg thy pardon. I have gas."

Simon blinked back the water in his eyes. "You..you have gas?..(cough)... That putrid stench came from your body?"

"I had corn cobs for lunch. I always get gas after eating them. As much as I try I still give in to temptation - Father forgive me."

"You smell like the Ferengi septic pits! Why do you eat them if you .." he said unable to finish after feeling his own lunch trying to force its way up his throat.

"Fret not. The smell only lasts about twenty minutes. My father used to say that that was the smell of sin leaving the body. Thy shall be fine. If thy needs me, I shall be in our room resting. Please don't need me." Zeke said.

Simon was agitated. This wasn't how he envisioned their meeting to be. In fact, he had wagered with himself that he would be able to drive his newest roommate out without having even spent a full day there. Now here he was, trapped in his own apartment while the walking boulder violated his every personal space!

"I will have you reported to your superior! You cannot do this!" he said.

Again the big man shrugged. "Commander Corgan. And the last time I checked, passing gas is not against any Starfleet regulations unless it is done in a punchbowl at a comissioning ceremony. I must sleep now. The Lord be with you."

Simon watched Ensign Wikkins lumber into the bedroom. His rage was barely contained as he stomped his foot on the floor. He would pour over Ensign Wikkins' personnel files and psychological history. There was no way he was going to share his quarters with that giant...~ oh no! ~ he thought as he rushed to the bedroom doorway and shouted loudly.

"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT TAKING THE TOP BUNK!!!!" he said defiantly then walked away and stared at his damaged table.

"Whatever thy say." the Ensign replied with a hint of sarcasm.

Simon growled loudly and kicked at the shattered pieces of the table.

Inside the bedroom, Zeke glanced at the top bunk and smiled.

~Reunion~

Marking the return of Chad Vicenik as Lt. Cutter Kara'nin

and introducing, Arkedi Nitel'rajek Zan Lanaka

Also with Lt. Curtis Geluf

OOC - Although this is kind of a small post, it took me a lot of work. Most of this post is written in Mika'kardi, the language I've created for the Fruna'lin. Translations are at the end of each line. A no-prize to anyone who thinks they can decipher any of it.

OOC2 - Some pronunciation notes. [^] is a glottal stop, like in the middle of 'uh-oh.' [!] is a click made with the tip of the tongue on the roof of your mouth. [|] is a click made with the tip of the tongue on the teeth. [R] in the middle of a sentence is a trill at the back of the mouth/throat, like a tiger growl or something. Everything else is spelled phonetically, as best as possible. Ekenarado! [Goodbye.]

"Come in," Cutter called out in response to the chiming door.

His neighbor, Curtis Geluf, entered the quarters and noticed Cutter lounged out on his black sofa, his feet propped up on the glass table in front of it. He was in his Starfleet uniform, but had taken his jacket off, the dark Starfleet science's blue matching the blue hair that almost covered Cutter's eyes. Curtis noted absorbed gaze towards the PADD in Cutter's hand. "Cutter?"

It took a moment before Cutter glanced up, he must have been finishing a paragraph, "Oh, tola, Curtis. Ento dwomdzi^el?"

"Myself? Just fine thanks." the OPS officer replied. He hadn't yet mastered enough of Cutter's language to attempt a response in it. "I'm just here to let you know you've got visitors on the way."

"Visitors?"

"Yeah." Curtis looked down at the PADD he was carrying with him, "Says here their names are Arkedi Nitel'rajek and Zan Lanaka. Friends of yours?"

"Wha...wait, visitors? Arkedi and Zan are visiting the Galaxy?"

"Not visiting it so much as living on it, these are transfer orders. They're becomming members of the crew. Arkedi in Linguistics and Zan in Anthropology." the Kerelian answered his baffled friend.

Cutter rose from the sofa, his white wings revealing themselves from behind the couch as they were lifted. "Joined the crew? They're not in starfleet. Let me see that?" he asked, approaching Curtis and reaching for the PADD.

"They're not commisioned officers if that's what you mean." Curtis replied. "Something about a Fruna'lin program, we're taking them on as advisors. Know anything about it?"

"Ah, sema, the FKS CSEP, er, uh, the Fruna-Kenaran/Starfleet Civilian Scientist and Engineering Program. I forgot about that. Its because the Fruna'lin don't like Starfleet. They've got it so that they are allowed to work on starships as scientists and engineers and not go through the Academy physical and combat training."

Curtis gave him an interested look, "Sounds like a pretty good program."

"Starfleet doesn't really think of it that way," he said matter of factly. Then he muttered to himself as he read the PADD, "I can understand Arkedi coming, he's always wanted to study alien languages in the field, but why's Zan coming?"

"Not a fan of the fleet?" asked Curtis.

Cutter looked up from the PADD, his face clenched slightly in thought. "Sorry, dwah?" He hadn't heard the question.

"You wondered why this Zan guy would want to come here." Curtis explained, "Does he have something against Starfleet?"

"She. Zan's a woman and sema, she's always sort of spoken against it in the past. But, she was part of the digs on Mlintire, I don't know why she would want to leave them?"

Curtis flushed a bit at his gender confusion, "Well, I don't know, but this looks pretty set in stone to me."

"Hmm...when are they coming aboard?" Cutter asked.

"As far as I know, ASAP." Curtis replied, "I'm expecting them by tommorow."

"When?"

"1300 hours." the Kerelian stated. "Well, just came by for that. Got to get going, I'm expected at home."

"Ah, ok. Thanks," Cutter said, still confused about his old friends coming aboard the Galaxy.

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

The next day, Cutter still could not grasp the idea of his best friends living aboard the Galaxy with him. They weren't used to a starship, how would they cope without wing room? Why did Zan leave Mlintire, did she break the law again? He was lost in thought as he rounded a corner on his way to the transporter room, but something quickly woke him.

"Tola, Cutter. Ento dwomdzi^el?"

"Cutter!!" a woman screamed. Stunned, Cutter did not see her drop her bags and jump towards him. The next thing he knew, she was in his arms, her lips on his. "Cutter," she said again after breaking the kiss, "Nen dosaydeul ka usu!." [I've missed you so much!]

"Tola, Zan," he said finally, a broad smile on his face. "Rushylen menyel," he said, running his fingers through the short, green hair. She was a beautiful as she ever was, jade eyes set on either side of a long, thin nose. [I like your hair]

"I ruhetel?" The other Fruna'lin asked, rubbing his hand through the purple black hair that poked out of the navy blue headband. It was short and sort of spiked, pointing up and out like it defied gravity; natural for Fruna'lin hair. The face it was attached to was thin with a sharp, angled jaw; his smiling white teeth constrasted with his tanned, almond skin and his black eyes. [What about mine?]

Cutter laughed, "Tola, Arku." He set Zan down and Arkedi walked up and hugged him. "Zan lel asilmeuRim," he stated with false expectation. He tipped his head slightly to the side and slightly pursed his lips, before breaking into a grin and spitting out quick laugh. [Zan kissed me.]

"KaReng? Zan, kahilel a^o ye idzuratoidabilol tihimbi.," Arkedi said to the woman. His black wings shifted behind him slightly, causing the silver band jewelry near the joint to catch the flourescent light and flash in Cutter's eye. [Humor? Zan, I think he's happy to see us.]

"Sarabadra'delin iw atwu^oltoonum dwul?" Cutter asked as he took up Zan's hand in his and lightly rubbed his thumbs on her two middle fingers and the base of her palm. [Why did you two come to the Galaxy?]

"FKS CSEP. Tsuinyedryt dzuchiunku atwu^olteulum," Arkedi said, picking up his bag again and throwing the strap around his shoulder. [I've come to study linguistics.]

"Sema, Arku," Cutter said, glancing at Arkedi, "o atwu^olteunum, Zan?" [Yeah, Arku, but why did you come, Zan?]

"Arku zehereneul." [I followed Arkedi.]

"Arkedi zehereneun?" Cutter asked, not understanding what she meant. [Followed Arkedi?]

"Sarayem dwohmatuzi!eunim?" Arkedi asked, looked at Zan. [You didn't tell him?]

She jerked her head back towards the thin, violet-haired Fruna'lin, her green eyes flashed with annoyance. "Tell me what?" Cutter asked, in English.

Zan looked like she wanted to accuse Arkedi of something, but she refrained. She looked back at Cutter, "Arkedi i el ayelodrolor." [Arkedi and I are mating.]

"Ka ayelodronor!?" Cutter exclaimed, dropping Zan's hand.

"Minik kamil chyridol," Arkedi boasted. [We want to have a child.]

"What?! A child?! With him?!" Cutter shouted. His wings twitched behind him and opened out slightly.

"Dwah nilel u!achyridi?" Arkedi asked, his hands raised to his chest. He was having fun in this. To Arkedi, everything is fun. [What's wrong with me?]

"Ka, kahileul a^o rubokal tezokel. En dwohme^uimihambi?" Zan giggled, reaching out with her wing and stroking the bottom of Cutter's leg. [I thought I had the temper. Are you jealous, Cutter?]

"Dwah? Itu." [What? No.] Arkedi slapped Cutter's chest with the back of his hand, "Kahilel a^o deilhumanal atsenun shu, Cutter." [I think you've spent too much time with humans, Cutter.]

"Dwah?" Cutter asked again, with confusion this time, rather than anger.

"Deilhumanal atsenun shu." [You've spent too much time with humans.]

Cutter turned indignantly towards the slightly shorter Arkedi. "What does that mean?"

"Ayalisukenir ... ete zi|el dwy? Monogamous?" [You're acting ... how do they say it? Monogamous?]

"Monogamous lisi|ete a^o deilet le ayelortor," Cutter scoffed. [Monogamous means mating with only one person.]

"Sema, en monogamousi," Arkedi said again, with some triumph in his voice. [Right. You're monogamous.]

"En dwohnkundumiri ami deilet else ayelodrelor?" Zan asked before Cutter could argue further. [Are you upset that I'm mating with someone else?]

"Ka u! Sem. Ayelodronor dwul?" [No! Yes. Why are you two mating?]

"Unel, Cutter. Ayelodronor," Zan stated. She was beginning to get annoyed. [I don't know, Cutter. We're mating.]

Arkedi laughed loudly, fracturing the tension. "En okahe || lenebi, Cutter. Ol sararumeldonol yziyenen. Zi|ail nyawleul," Arkedi smiled, pushing one of Zan's bags into Cutter's hand and then leading him by the shoulder around the corner and down the corridor. [Its good to see you again, Cutter. Show us to our rooms, we'll talk later.]

He walked as Arkedi pushed him, more confused and upset than before they arrived. Eventually, he gave in and sighed, "De didiruhbi else." [They're in the other direction.]

Chad Vicenik
Lt. Cutter Kara'nin
Arkedi Nitel'rajek
Sciences
USS Galaxy

"Visions of Madness"

Erik Stiener, Shopkeeper

Location: Stiener's Inventions & Novelties.
First Level.(Hidden Advert. STOP BY ANYTIME!)

He came out of the vision as if from a dream, as if watching a camera spiral torward his head.

-Oww, my head.....- Erik looked at his hands......they were not distorted or strange as he thought would have seen them. He kept remembering irrational feelings, feelings of fear, suspicion, delusions. Some were completely unable to be understood by anyone with a sane state of mind.

-Visions of Madness?- Erik began to distinctly remember flashes, flashes of him running around in a world that wasn't real, a world where the sane could not dwell and remain sane.

-What is happening to my mind.....or what happened to my mind. I do not understand......

- "I think I'd better go to counselling. My pension should still be.....valid." He began to walk out of his shop. "God, I hope they didn't pull the pension on me..." He sped up and ran.

"Unknown Conflict "

Ethan Suder
Ella Grey

Ella shook her head and tried to focus. It was the last double day in a seven day stretch and she was starting to get a bit punchy. Just a shift and a half more to go, she told herself and looked back at the computer PADD. She couldn't wait for her shift to end. She was going to straight to bed.

She finished up the last of the report and then headed for the Chief's office. She knocked on the frame and then entered. She handed the computer PADD to him with a nod.

"Hi." Ethan said, clearly disturbed from his work. Piles of data padds lay scattered around on his desk. Each one containing old reports. He frowned and looked up at the Assistant Chief Engineer as she gave him the data padd. "How are things out there?"

She shrugged before getting out her own PADD to interface with his computer. *NOT BAD, SIR. JUST BUSY.* She bit back a yawn. *IS THERE ANYTHING YOU NEED HELP WITH, SIR?*

Ethan frowned again and stood up. "First thing you can help me with, don't call me Sir. Ethan is fine, Chief if you're not comfortable with a first name basis." He forced a smile and glanced between Ella and the data padds. "And how are you?" he asked looking into her eyes.

Ella made herself smile in return. She didn't want to be rude but she didn't want to be friendly with him either. *I'M FINE, ETHAN.*

"It's been hectic lately hasn't it?" he mentioned. "I appreciate all the shifts you've been working lately. You've done a good job keeping things together here."

*I'TS BEEN A LONG WEEK* Ella agreed.

"Too long for my liking." he replied.

*SO, WAS THERE ANYTHING THAT NEEDED TO BE DONE?* Ella asked, trying not to let her annoyance at this polite conversation show. It was harder to control her emotions when she was tired. And especially harder, when she knew the other person didn't really have to look hard to see it was a lie. Damn Betazoids, she thought sourly.

Ethan slowly raised his eyes and looked at Ella for a few seconds. She did look tired, anyone could see that. Her body language said it all. It also said something else. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow too?" Ethan suggested. "You've worked really hard lately, and I have a couple of projects going on, so I'll be around a lot for the rest of today and over the next three or four days. Get some rest and just, enjoy yourself." he offered.

She smiled sweetly. *THAT'S ALLRIGHT, ETHAN. MY SHIFT IS ALMOST OVER ANYWAYS. I CAN STICK IT OUT.* She liked work. Too much free time and she started to get restless.

"Are you sure, it's not a problem?" he asked leaning back in his chair.

Ella tried to keep the tightness out of her eyes. *I REALLY DON'T MIND*

Ethan thought for a moment. "Lieutenant," he said standing up. "You've put a lot of effort into work lately. It's very much appreciated, but I want you take some time off. Just relax. You deserve it. We all need a break sometime, or our bodies just breakdown. And you'd be no good to me should you become tired, ill, exhausted, need I go on?"

She lifted her chin. *IS THAT AN ORDER, SIR?*

He half smiled and gave a nod. "Consider it so." he replied.

Ella couldn't help the flash that came to her eyes, nor the overwhelming emotions that came suddenly, frustration, annoyance, anger. She was sure that if her emotions were a wavelength, which she supposed they were to Betazoids, then he was catching the ride. Too bad her emotions weren't a mallet, she thought sourly. She didn't even bother to smile this time. *UNDERSTOOD, SIR.*

"Dismissed." Ethan said quietly rubbing his chin with his fingers. He frowned and half closed his eyes as Ella left. It didn't really take a Betazoid to pick up on the fact that she was troubled. Was it him, or did she just have a lot on her mind. She didn't seem to take kindly to being asked to take a break. But then neither did he when he was told to back in his earlier days as an Engineer! Still, her entire body language spoke volumes throughout the small conversation. He was getting the idea that maybe it had something to do with him. She seemed quite content when working and socializing with others he had noticed. But when it came down to him talking to her, there was trouble of some kind. He clenched his fist and continued to frown. He'd love to know what the problem was. Perhaps it was because he was Chief and she wasn't. Even though they had discussed that when he had first come onboard, maybe it was just one smaller fire of a larger disaster waiting to happen.

"That's all I need. Trouble amongst the ranks." he muttered to himself. He slammed his fist on his communicator and sighed. "Lieutenant McDowell, do you have a moment?" He couldn't help but sound frustrated.

"Orion, Romulan, Drinks: Part two"

By Jasmine and Omar

"I ran away." she said. "I stowed away on a federation vessel that had pulled in for repairs."

"That was very commendable of you."

She shrugged. "I guess." she had no real comment on her escape or her past. She did not like to bring up old memories.

“Who was your owner?” he asked of her. “I was friendly with a number of…” He paused and then he decided to resume with the sentence. “Both of my parents were actually friendly with a number of politicians from your planet.”

Jasmine stiffened. "The name is none of your concern" she said icily putting the glass down. She had barely touched it. She looked at the Romulan. "I know full well what Romulans do with information. And I am not about to give that to anyone. You want the information, Find out from someone else." The normally quiet and shy Orion had changed into a defensive ball of fire and brimstone, only crazy people crossed her over such issues.

For a second then the senator just looked at her with defiance. He was going to reply to her slightly racist remark when he decided that there was a better alternative. “I do apologise to you. I did not intend to cause offence to you.”

Jasmine looked at him. "If you had any idea about the workings of a person's mind who had lived in such conditions you would probably or should know and understand that such a topic is NOT a good one for discussion and it will cause offence." What she did not add was that she herself had a price on her head and the last thing she needed was this man knowing too much about her. She wanted to go back to being unnoticed. To being wallpaper.

Omar then laughed at her hostility to him. “You should just drink more of this alcohol for you are far too nervous.”

Jasmine ignored that comment. She did not drink much alcohol as a rule and she was not about to start for a Romulan who had burst into HER office and interupted HER sleep. "Now, if you will excuse me," she began. "I would like to get on with my work."

"I am very sorry." Omar apologised to her. He looked at a young human male who had just walked into the room. "Would you like to meet with my diplomatic Attaché? His Name" Omar asked of her. "He Is Michael Nicholas-Henderson." The young human male cadet smiled at her charmingly.

"No I would not. May I respectfully remind you all that YOU came in here. You were not invited into my lab so basically I can tell you to leave. Now please do so."

"Not Just Another Pretty Face"

by
Ens. Jasmine Heloi,
Pilot,
Vanguard Squadron

Location: Corridors of the Galaxy
Soundtrack: "Not Just Another Pretty Face" - Shania Twain

Jasmine Heloi closed her eyes and hoped for a miracle. She cracked open an eye to see that the reason for that wish was still there - all smiles, eight years old, and holding up a PADD.

"Ms. Heloi? Can I please have your autograph? Please, please, please?" The young object of her misery spoke up again, displaying that knack that all young children had of making their eyes appear larger and more pleading at a moment's notice. This one had brown eyes that she could drown in, just begging for her to make his dream come true.

'Sucker,' she told herself and she completely opened her eyes and looked at the boy. Not five minutes after her transfer from the Hood, and already the requests started. Sometimes, like now, she really wished she had never heard of Adora Starfire. "Just this once, son. Then I really need to get to my quarters and report for duty." She really hoped he didn't have any Starfire-loving friends...

"Thank you!" The boy bounced - yes, bounced - in place as he lifted the PADD higher, "Make it out to Jimmy Haskins."

'I'm never having kids,' she resolved as she picked up the PADD and signed it 'To Jimmy Haskins, my favorite fan - Jasmine Heloi (Adora Starfire).' "There you go, Jimmy."

Impulsively, the boy darted forward to hug her about her waist before scampering off down the corridor. Jasmine just hoped, really hoped, that she would be able to make it to her quarters without another such episode. How little Jimmy had discovered that she was transferring to the Galaxy and just when she was coming aboard was not as much of a mystery as it could have been. Thanks to the media's love of heroes, they kept an eye on her doings since her show, Starfire, had closed down and she had joined the 'fleet. She just hoped that the people here would realize that there was more to Jasmine Heloi than Adora Starfire. She didn't even like the character anymore.

Thankfully the rest of the trip to her quarters was uneventful. Jasmine dropped her bags just inside the door and decided to forgo unpacking until she had presented herself for duty. Unpacking would take a little while, and she preferred to put up a good appearance on her first day. Not many COs, that is the COs of her department, were willing to look past the whole vid series starlet aura that had surrounded her since Starfire was on the air. That she was actually well educated did not always fit into their preconceptions - the Dallas had been a prime example. It had taken six months for her CO to really understand that there was more to Jasmine Heloi than Adora Starfire. After that, her job had been a great deal easier and more enjoyable. Now, she feared she would have to face that again.

'Well, Jazz,' she thought to herself, 'No time like the present to find out if history does repeat itself.' Heloi brushed back an errant strand of hair and stepped out of her quarters. After asking for directions to Lt. Rex's office, she was on her way through the corridors of the Galaxy to report for duty...and hopefully without another autograph request.

"Aren't you? Hey, you're Adora Starfire! Can I have your autograph?"

Jasmine looked for the nearest bulkhead to start banging her head against.

"Target Practice"

Lieutenant JGs Corran Rex
and
Ahdjiia D'Tiinya

Ahdjiia looked at the notice on her screen and silently put away her prayerweb. She'd almost forgotten she'd had herself listed for additional assistance for those who needed phaser practice, and upon seeing the notice for a lessons request, she was curious to see who it was. Corran rang the doorbell outside of D'Tinya's quarters, waiting patiently for her to reply. Gods above, this was embarrassing, having to ask for this kind of help.

She opened the door, and if there was any surprise at seeing Corran as her appointment, there was no sign of it. "Come in.", she said as she moved aside, her Little Ones coming along the ceiling and walls to see who it was.

The Trill eyed the spiders suspiciously, but stayed firmly on the other side of the door. "Maybe.. ah.. maybe I should stay out here."

"Is there something wrong?", she asked, not quite understanding his reaction.

"I'm.. ah..." the Trill swallowed momentarily, glancing at all the spiders. "I'm an arachnophobe. Past life had a couple of really, really bad experiences with an arachnoid species. Literally"

She blinked at hearing such a thing. "There is nothing to fear from my Little Ones, save for one tipping over when they get too curious.", she said.

"Not poisonous?"

Only the Andorian Blood Spider, but she is molting at the moment and in her cocoon. She'll be quite happy to get out of there when she does next week."

"Right then. okay." he said, swallowing his fear - and the tennis-ball sized lump in his throat, and entering her quarters. "I heard you could help me with my marksmanship...difficulties. I'm a little out of practice with hand phasers."

"I'd be glad to help.", she said as she discreetly scooted back a fist sized tarantula that seemed fixated on looking closer at Corran's belt.

"Allright. When... " the Trill twitched his head to the side a moment, closed his eyes, and counted to five. When he opened them again, he felt comfortable - well, comfortable enough - to speak again, once again trusting his voice. "When, ah, would be a good time for you?"

"We could start now.", Ahdjiia said, "I am off duty."

"That sounds like a fantastic plan.' Corran replied, just a tad too eagerly. "After you, Lieutenant."

Ahdjiia led the way, pausing only to scoot her Talarian Hook spider back inside when it tried to follow. If it was possible for something with multiple multifaceted eyes and very visible fangs to look dejected, it did.

Corran merely fought down his shudders.

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

They arrived at the holodeck, and Ahdjiia set up a simple target range program. She took a training phaser and handed the other to Corran. "When you're ready, we'll begin.", she said.

Several minutes later, the pair of officers were entering the Armory's phaser practice range, a small holodeck made to look like a black room with a standing circular pad in the center. When the program began, small lights would begin dancing around.

Corran turned to Ahdjiia with a small half-smile. "I await your instruction, Sensei."

"Let's begin with seeing how your aim is, so I know what we've got to work on.", she said as she took note of what lights were where.

The security officer started the first training sequence then. Corran found he could easily focus on the targets, his aim just drifted ever so slightly off. He was constantly only grazing targets, or being off by a matter of inches.

"I'm used to larger targets - and larger phasers, to boot. When you're in a starfighter, you've got much more allowance - a couple inches either direction, you've still hit your target." the Trill muttered in a frustrated voice.

Ahdjiia had to admit, he wasn't as bad as he let on, but Corran did have a point. "It's all a matter of envisioning I think in this case.", she said as she started with her phaser, hitting her targets, "To quote what a former crewmate of mine said when she first was transferred over to the fighter squadron was comparing it to being in a large phaser. Try envisioning the phaser in your hand as you are in your ship, but having to target with your eyes alone, no sensors."

Corran sighed, but nodded for her to start up the remotes again. The little lights began flashing, and The tall Trill tensed up, trying to rely only on what his eyes told him. That helped slightly - he was able hit a few more of them this time, though still not quite enough to score a pass on a progress evaluation.

It was an improvement, and only practice would help for the most part. Ahdjiia wracked her brain for something else that could help. "May I ask if you are familiar with the Terran hobby of fishing?"

"I can't help it - I keep wanting to verify with something else, and there's nothing to verify with. " he muttered, and his posture suddenly shifted. He had a more.. militaristic bearing now. "Five hundred years old, and this host can't even shoot a damned phaser right. Back in my days in the TDF, we'd have kicked his ass until he got it right. Fire that scenario up again, young lady. I'm going to show this kid how to do it."

"He will not learn if you are the dominant one.", Ahdjiia said as she noticed a distinct change in the Trill and guessed that his symbiont was stepping up. She'd never seen such a thing before, but that didn't mean it wasn't possible.

Not that Ahdjiia had any way of knowing it, but the brash and often irritable Mekaela, Rex's second host, was now fully in control of the joined body. Mekaela/Corran raised a cool eyebrow at the unflapped Security Officer. "You don't seem surprised at the sudden change in Young Corran Rex's bearing. I am Captain Mekaela Rex, of the Trill Defense Force, dead these three hundred years."

"I served on the K'Hotan under Hendershaw, I am used to things not the norm.", Ahdjiia said matter of factly, "Greetings Captain Mekaela Rex."

"Fair enough. Now, young lady, are you going to fire up that training routine, or not?" Mekaela replied.

"Of course.", Ahdjiia said as she restarted the program, this time altering the lights to resemble a spider shape. She was counting on Corran's unease around them to give him better incentive to aim. A silent mental prayer to her Revered One for resorting to such tactics and she stepped slightly back for the training to begin again.

She shouldn't have bothered, really. Under Mekaela's influence, Corran's hands squeezed off shot after shot, hitting every last target dead center.

"Was that him, or you?", Ahdjiia asked.

Abruptly, Corran's body language shifted again, and he dropped the phaser, placing both hands on the railing to balance himself. "Sorry... sorry you had to see that." Corran said, his voice returned to normal. "Mek's a bit of a showoff, I'm afraid."

"It is okay.", Ahdjiia said with a soft smile, "Considering her career, I can understand her exasperatedness. When you feel up to it, we can begin again."

"I'm sorry.. " he replied. "I.. I need to sit down for a second." the Trill said wearily. The sudden shifts when the symbiont forgot what personality was supposed to be in charge were becoming more and more wearying, especially after the temporal.. incident. Pulling on Esanza's memories, he expected to have to double his injections of isoboromine to twice a day. After a minute, he raised his eyes, looking up at the tall Security officer. "I'm surprised you haven't asked yet."

"As I informed your symbiont, I served on the K'Hotan under Hendershaw. If I can adapt to a Q materializing and demanding where the father of her hybrid child is hiding, I can adapt to much."

"Hendershaw." Corran said, closing his eyes again. " Not 'Fuck Me' Hendershaw?"

"The one and only.", Ahdjiia said with a chuckle, "And he is exactly as how they say he is."

"Oh, I'm well aware." Rex replied. "Two hosts back, my host was Baledra Rex, Chief Engineer of the Excelsior under Captain Sulu. She's got some... interesting memories about old Jeb."

Corran found it strangely comforting to be around someone who didn't find his .. condition something to be pitied - or laughed at. "I think I'm ready to try again, teach." he said, standing up.

"Spots & Jazz"

by
Lt. j.g. Corran Rex,
Vanguard Squadron CO

Ens. Jasmine Heloi,
Vanguard Squadron Pilot

Location: Lt. Rex's Office

Jasmine had managed to escape the clutches of another fan by a combination of some fancy footwork and the excuse of being called to duty. It had worked, but she was going to start screaming if she got another autograph request. She would give an autograph to a kid, but she drew the line at 20 years of age. After that, they needed to get a life.

She reached Rex's office a short time after her escape and she pressed the annunciator. While she waited, she straighted her uniform tunic with a twist and tried her best not to look like a former vid star.

Lieutenant' Corran Rex was, as per usual, sitting with his feet on his desk, reading a PADD. With a livelink to his terminal from the PADD, there was no real reason he needed to sit in the "normal", straight-backed starched officer Starfleet Approved Manner of Seating. And after a combined five centuries of life, Rex did very little without a reason.

Jasmine stepped inside the office, sparing it an automatic glance that categorized it per it's owner. It was a leftover from her Betazoid heritage and from her own years in stardom. Know the room, know the owner generally held true. She didn't know quite what to make of the owner of this particular room but she shook herself out of the moment's fancy to smile winningly at the Lieutenant. That it made her look too much like Adora Starfire did not even cross her mind.

"Lt. Rex? I'm Ens. Jasmine Heloi, your newest pilot," she stepped forward into the office, not caring a bit about the casual posture of the other officer. To each his or her own. Jasmine held her hand out towards him, waiting patiently for his reply.

"Ensign Heloi.. Heloi... Heloi..." Rex murmured, scanning further down the PADD on the day's business. "Oh yeah. The new girl." he finally finished, and leaned forward (feet still on desk) to shake the young Ensign's hand.

"Have a seat, Ensign." he said, pointing towards one of the pair of chairs on the other side of the desk.

She nodded and claimed the chair nearest to her. Jasmine settled into the chair with an ease that she didn't quite feel. 'So far, so good,' she consoled herself. "Thank you, sir," she replied. Heloi's voice had a soft lilt to it, indicative of her home region of Aduras.

"So, what's your Callsign, Heloi?" he asked first off - Starfleet biographical files didn't include that date. A remarkable oversight, in his estimation.

"Jazz, sir," Jasmine said without a moment's hesitation, "One of the pilots on the Big D was lazy and didn't say my full name and the callsign stuck." Heloi smiled at the memory, it was a good one especially since it was after the fiasco with her being *her, you know Adora Starfire* wore off.

"The Big D?" he asked, glancing over at the PADD. "Ah - right. The Dallas."

"Mine's 'Spots' - corny, I know, and a bit obvious, but..." Rex shrugged. "Flight Instructor back at the Academy gave it too me, and it seems to have stuck."

"Sorry, sir," she looked somewhat sheepish, "I got so used to calling the Dallas the 'Big D' that I forget that most people don't know what I'm talking about." Jasmine paused for a moment before continuing, "How many people are in the squadron, sir?"

"Even dozen," Corran replied, "Including yourself and two other pilots due to arrive today. Plus the assortment of techs and whatnot. I also serve jointly as the Department Head for Vanguard Squadron and Vanguard Division - that's Major McCormick's desk over there. She heads up the groundpounders. Vanguard Squadron itself is actually a mixed Fleet/Marine unit - something I like, because it lets us cull from the best of both services. Tell me something, Ensign.... do you think you're one of the best?"

She gave him her best cocky grin, "I wouldn't be here if I didn't, sir. Nor would I be here if the 'fleet didn't feel I was the best for the job." Jasmine shrugged slightly. A small ego was not something that she suffered from, though she knew that being too confident in her abilities would be the best way to get herself and her fellow pilots killed. "I'm a team player, sir, not a lone wolf. But if the rest of the squadron's as good as you say, we'll do just fine."

"I'll be honest. I haven't been commanding this squadron too terribly long. It's not there yet. But with you, and, I think our other two pilots, it will be."

He grinned - very nearly maniacally - then. "And with sim time. Lots and lots and lots of sim time."

Heloi couldn't prevent the groan from escaping her lists, "You're one of them, aren't you sir? Sim, sim, sim...oh and when you think you've hand enough, sim some more." She shook her head, amused.

"I subscribe to the policy of 'If you're going to fuck up, I want you to do it when it doesn't get you, your wingmate, or especially me, killed." Rex replied with a ready grin.

"Amen, sir," Jasmine replied with an echoing grin, "I couldn't argue with that logic before, and I'm certainly not going to start now."

"Excellent." he replied. "Take today off, then. Get settled. Report to the simulator room tomorrow morning at 0800. We fly Bonzais - you have any experience with those?"

"We had a few on the Big D. But I am more familiar with Hawk class and Peregrine class fighters," Heloi said after a moment's thought.

"Ah, the old birds." Rex said teasingly. "Bonzai's are superior to them in every way. They're the best Starfighters in the Federation Fleet, with the exception of the Rogue Class. I've tried to requisition some, but Starfighter Command's Quartermasters tell me that those are only for the high-profile units like Rogue Squadron or Wraith Squadron. Bastards."

Jasmine smirked, "They do get the attention, don't they. Well, fame doesn't mean everything," the last was more for herself than for Rex's benefit. "I'm looking forward to trying them out."

"Sounds like a plan." he replied, finally standing. "Enjoy your day off, Ensign. For tomorrow we sim. And sim. And sim."

"And sim..." she repeated with a smile, "Thank you, sir. I'll see you then." With another smile directed at the Lieutenant, she left the room feeling much better about her future on the Galaxy. He didn't even mention 'Starfire' once!

"Oh, Ensign, one other thing..." he said, just as she'd reached the door.

She turned back towards her superior just as she had stepped over the threshold of the door, "Sir?" 'Oh, God...here it comes...' she thought to herself and mentally cringed.

"You look familiar...." he started. "I'm sure we must have met somewhere before."

After she didn't reply for a second, Rex just kind of shook his head. "Never mind, Ensign. I'm sure it'll come to me later. Dismissed."

"I have one of those faces..." she said and quickly left the room, willing her thudding heart to stop pounding so hard in her chest.

"Must be. That, or I'm old and senile. Either way." Corran replied to himself as she departed.

"Bonding"

Maj Saladin Bolivar
Lt(jg) Ahdjiia D'Tinya

OOC: This happens after the moving in post and around the JP blitz Lisa has been on...
OOC2: There be nookie M/F

Ahdjiia had just finished one more check on her Little Ones as they all were settling into Saladin's quarters. There had been some squabbling from them nosing around the new place and picking out corners that they'd have as thier own. As it was, the Talarian hook spider was curled up having been pounced on by the Vulcan sand spider and was missing a patch of fur.

Saladin came in and looked around at the spiders, as usual he watched where he would step to avoid hitting one of her little ones. THen he saw Ahdjiia, "Hi..."

"I think they're settling down.", she said with a soft smile as she cradled the hook spider, it's forelegs wrapping around her like a child's hug.

"I see those two stil had a squabble." He stepped quickly to avoid a spider who had dashed underfoot.

"It's that spot near the replicator.", she said with a sigh, "In my old quarters it was a different area and the one's spot was near that while the other's spot was in that same area as it was bare in mine."

Saladin chuckled, "They are getting better I hope."

"They will sort it out, they always do."

"I would hope." He finally greeted her with a kiss and walked in to the kitchen. "The little ones will take some geting used to."

"They are good with being out from underfoot.", she said, "But this is so new to them, they can't help but want to explore."

"I was fearing that I would step on one of them. I am glad I did not."

"Once they have explored the floor, they will go back to the walls and ceiling."

He looked at her, "Have you thought more of when we could go face the matriarch?"

"I have listened to what you said I must be prepared for, and I am ready for when the time comes."

He looked at her and smiled, "I hope you are truely ready my love, to be judged by a Nietzchean Matriarch is not something that most can not fathom... It will include DNA testing to test your genetic worthiness."

"I guessed as much.", she said with a soft smile.

He looked at her and touched her cheek. "THen we shoudl bond before the ceremony..."

"I am ready.", she said as she leaned her face into his palm.

He kissed her and nuzzled her neck, "We will bond here."

Ahdjiia returned his kiss and let the hook spider out of her embrace. It crawled off, giving a momentary evil look at the sand spider as it moved.

"Is there any preparations I must do beforehand?"

"Change in to the ceremonial dress we had replicated for you, I will change in to my uniform and prepare the ceremony." Ahdjiia nodded and rose to change. He rose and changed to his uniform then began to replicate the ceremony. It was a simple Japanese style tea set with two sealed white china containuers.

He fixed his suit and strapped on a dagger, then walked out and laid them down on a table and waited for her.

She walked out of their bedroom in what could only be described as a lightly armoured dress. It seemed much like a klingon female's armour, but not as bulky and flowed more smoothy. Adding her own touch, Ahdjiia wore her spiderlace mantilla that draped over her head.

He rose to face her and smiled, then he approached her, "You look beautiful."

"You always say that.", she said with a soft smile.

He smiled, "I always mean it."

"I know."

He kissed her softly then said, "Are you ready?"

"I am."

He let his fingers interlace with hers and he smiled, then grew somber, "The great philosopher once said man is to woman a means in the end a child is born." His eyes met Ahdjiia's, "A true bondmate is one who can be trusted above all else, with your life your duty and your sacred honor. I ask you Ahdjiia D'tinya do you wish to enter in to this bond?"

"I enter freely and of my own will.", she said softly.

He paused and took a breath, "To all present and here, I Saladin Bolivar out of Bouddica by Charlamagne do take this woman to be mine.... I trust her above all others."

Then he walked to the tea set. "to seal this bond we will mix each other a cup of tea."

Some of the spiders had looked thier way, Ahdjiia concidered them fitting witnesses. She nodded and followed him to the tea set.

He handed her one of the sealed containers and then he took one for himself.
He began to make a cup of tea silently.

She watched what he did and prepared his cup with the container he handed her.

THen he slid her tea over to her and let her slide over. He picked up the cup and watched her, then togther they drank.

Ahdjiia handed him his cup and daintily lifted hers under her mantilla to sip. It was a bit bitter than what she was used to for tea, but she did drink the cup down to the dregs.

He set down his drink then laid down the cup and nodded, "It is finished..."
THen he lifter her mantilla to kiss her lips.

She returned his kiss, her arms wrapping around him.

He slipped his arms around her waist then broke the kiss with a smile, "We are bonded..."

"A simple, yet touching ceremony.", she said with a soft smile.

"And if you wanted to get out of it... you would jsut put poison in my tea."

"As you could have with mine.", she said, a bit surprised at the poison aspect, but rather half expecting it from his people.

"Now why would I do that?" His eyes sparkled.

"Last minute change of mind?", she teased.

"Since I am not a fool, I woudl not wish to hurt you."

"Do I have to be concerned about such things further on?"

"No.." He said honestly, "THis is a free marriage, if you wished to leave...you could leave. I would not harm you."

"I do not see myself leaving you.", she said as she kissed him.

He kissed her back. "I am easy to please.." He slid his hands down to her backside and drew her close, "The Matriarch is different."

"So you have intimated.", Ahdjiia said, "I will do my best to meet her approval."

He looked at her, "Tomorrow morning we will leave, give you time to let your little ones get used, we will not be gone long."

"I will leave ample food for them.", she said, "Though we might have some webbing to clear when we return."

He nodded, "It is acceptable. Do they know yuo are leaving?"

"I have spoken to them, explaining it as going to work a longer than usual shift."

"They are like cats in a way."

"I suppose so."

"We will take the niht for the little ones, and us..."

"I look forward to it."

"And how we must seal the bond..."

"I am ready.", she said with a soft smile and a glitter in her eyes.

He leaned in and kissed her gently.

Her hands roamed his back as they kissed and she pulled herself close to him.

He kissed her a bit more passionately, then he held her close as heb egan to kiss her neck softly.

Ahdjiia sighed softly, tilting her head to the side for Saladin to taste her neck better.

He continued to nibble on her neck his hands tracing her breasts gently as he kissed her jawline. Then he slid his hands down to her backside, "Perhaps we should get me out of this uniform?"

"As we should with me.", she smiled.

He smiled, Then he gently pushed her back to begin to undress himself, the high necked tunic was quick to be unfastenaed as he watched her.

Ahdjiia began to unfasten her dress. It slid to the floor with a soft jingle.

"Formal attire for my people is a bit too... revealing." He finished undressing then kissed her again, "The wedding will be different."

"I do not mind the attire.", she said with a soft smile, "My own people favour flowing robes with tight upper sleeves that flare."

"And the cleavage is most... pleasent." He kissed her softly and nuzzled her neck tenderly. "I like the look."

"It is a comfortable dress.", she smiled as she returned his nuzzle, "And it goes well with my mantilla."

He laughed, "it is also easy to fight in." Then he kissed her again, His kissed began to swell with the hunger, along with his.. excitment.

Ahdjiia wrapped her arms around him, feeling that familiar poke below. "Can we make it to the bed?", she teased.

He smiled, "Perhaps... or perhaps this table might be enough."

"It is sturdy to hold us both."

did we ever test that?" He picked her up and laid her on the oaken dinner table. "Perhaps we should."

"So we shall.", she smiled as she wrapped her legs around him.

He kissed her again and began to ease his boxers down, his hardness was now visible for her and he kissed her again as he moved foreward to suckle her fuill breasts in a way she liked.

Ahdjiia moaned softly, letting her hands roam his back. She pulled him a bit closer with her legs.

He moved down and guided himself in to her as he kissed her deeply.

She returned his kiss hungrily as she tightened her legs around him.

He moved his hips in to hers and he kissed her deeply, as they had done in their past lives together their bodies merged as if one.

Ahdjiia did all the little tricks that she knew Saladin enjoyed and hiked her legs up higher on his body.

He cried out as he moved in to her and kissed her deeply, his hips moved and he began to move his body in way she liked.

Her cries were soft in his ears as the pleasure built within, her nails began to dig into his back.

HE gasped quietly and thrust deeper in to her, then he kissed her chin as he felt his body begin to respond deeper to her.

A thin sheen of sweat covered her body as her back arched, reaching that point of no return and passing it.

He cried out as his own body exploded deep in to her. Sweat stuck his hair to his body and he kissed her tenderly as he shuddered.

She ran a hand through his sweat slicked hair, returning his kiss and savouring his scent as he laid atop her.

He smiled and nuzzled her neck, "our bond is sealed."

[Backpost]

“Coffee Break”

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
And
Assistant Chief Lieutenant Ella Grey

Ella Grey cursed, with her hands of course, as the tool kit slid away from her. She pushed the wall of the jeffries tube with her feet, her back sliding a couple of inches so that she could extend her arm to each it. She jerked her head as a few sparks flew from the broken interface and then returned to her work quickly so that she could outrun the next firework show.

Dhani could see the ‘fire works’ from the other end of the Jeffries tube, she tried to crawl faster to help out her superior but the mug in her hand prevented her from going as fast as she’d like.

It seemed that acting Chief Grey hadn’t noticed her arrival, yet. She didn’t want to startle her, but it looked like she was going to have to, to get the acting Chiefs attention. Setting the mug down she lightly gripped Greys leg and squeezed, just a little. But enough so that if she kicked out Dhani could prevent her nose from being broken.

She hadn’t worked with Grey before, not really even spoken to her before, and it was strange to do so under these conditions where everyone was stressed, shocked and way over worked. Dhani herself wasn’t supposed to be on duty, she had been singed off by medical and the counsellors but at a time like this everyone was needed at their posts, and Dhani wasn’t going to let anyone stand in the way of her and her job.

Ella frowned and looked over at the newcomer. She tilted her head in a way that asked "Yes?" and also to avoid another spark.

“Chief,” Dhani started, it felt unusual to call Grey ‘Chief’, but until Suder got back, if he got back, that’s what she was, “Beta shift finished One hour, twenty minutes and thirty one seconds ago.” Dhani said with startling accuracy, “I thought you could use this.” She held out the mug towards Ella.

Ella blinked. She knew she'd been on for awhile be she thought she was still on Alpha shift. She signed thank you and then shook her head and smiled. Ella pulled out her computer PADD. *THANK YOU, LT.* She took a sip of the drink and smiled at the welcome taste of coffee. *IM JUST GOING TO FINISH UP HERE.*

Dhani looked at around at the consoles Grey was working on. Looked like a nice and welcome change from hauling debris and dead bodies around like she had been doing for the last few shifts, “Want a hand?” she asked looking back at Grey.

Ella shrugged and then nodded.

Dhanishta gave Grey a nod and a smile and got stuck in.

[Backpost]

“Dead Cargo”

By
Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer

Dhanishta hauled yet another dead body into the cargo bay that had become the ships morgue. She paused for a moment to wipe the sweat off her brow. It was funny to think that only a few weeks ago she and Suder had cleared this cargo bay out, just before she had…. She shook her head trying not to think about what had happened to her just a few weeks previous, but then standing in a room full of dead bodies didn’t help. She wasn’t sure weather to mourn for them or to be envious.

She turned back and walked out into the hall. The hall was buzzing with activity, several of the other cargo bays had been turned into treatment rooms. As the casualties mounted up sick bay had become too small and they had to branch out. Most of this deck had been cleared and she had salvage crews working all over the ship.

As she made her way back up to the section she was working on she skimmed over the damage report she was compiling for engineering. Her calculations projected that it would be weeks before this ship was back in its proper conditions. With any luck all ships systems would be restored and working within safety parameters within a few hours and back up to full specks within a week but as to the damage within the ship, well that would take longer. And the damage done to the crew, who knows how long it would take for people to get over their losses? Years probably.

As the turbo lift doors opened onto another seen from hell she gritted her teeth.

“Sir” someone shouted from across the rubble. Dhanishta looked over to the young man who approached her, “We have another two dead.” He said gesturing behind him, “Damage reports are being collated from this deck……” Dhani fazed out as he rambled off a list from the data padd he held. Her eyes locked on to the bodies behind him, one of which was no bigger than her forearm; a baby.

She moved past the ensign whose voice now merged into the background. Around her the medics moved from body to body as other officer’s hauled broken bulkheads, support beams and other debris aside. Ploughing their way through the mess to find the living.

Crouching down next to the dead Dhani hesitated before she pulled the blanket aside to see the burnt, charred, broken body of a baby. No more than six months old.

The ensign stood beside her, turning his attention from the data padd for a moment, “Mother and child, I’m guessing.” He stated, “Must have been trapped in their quarters. Probably died of smoke inhalation.” He said handing her the data padd.

He lingered for a few moments longer watching Dhani as she stared at the body.

It was a while before Dhani realised he’d gone. She re-covered the body and stood up slowly, her mind filling with all sorts of questions. She let it rage as she tuned into auto pilot and began to haul rubble with the rest.

The hours past and their objective changed, finding the living was no longer their objective. Only the dead remained to be uncovered.

[Backpost]

“Dead Cargo Continued”

By
Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer

And
NPC Lieutenant Jiiles
Engineer (OOC – Note, thank you to Dane for writing the part of NPC Lt Jiiles.)

Again Dhani found herself in the cargo bay turned morgue. She was crouched over the body she had just placed down. Her eyes misted over as she scanned the room. Goose bumps raised across her arms as the hairs stood up. It was cold; the environmental controls had been adjusted in this room. She felt her body as it began to shiver. But she couldn’t move. She just sat there in the corner hugging herself.

The bodies kept mounting up, one after the other and her entire body was covered with blood, their blood. The lives of her crew mates was smeared across her shorts, her legs, arms, through her hair, in her eye lashes…… no amount of sonic showers would change that. And all she could do was sit there feeling helpless, watching as the doors opened and more dead were placed on the floor.

Silently a tear rolled down her cheek, and another, and….

She had tried to keep her feelings from showing, tried so hard to keep a lid on them but…. No matter how hard she tried they kept gnawing away at her, just waiting to strike out as soon as she had a minute to herself.

The doors opened again but this time no dead followed. She felt the air move as the person crouched down beside her.

“I remember when the Breen attacked Earth,” she started not caring who it was who listened, “I remember seeing the people I had worked with, trained with and studied with die.” She paused as the memory of Chang drifted through her mind. Watching him slip away as she cradled him in her arms, while around her the claxons bleared, the phasers fired and the rubble fell. “So many died that day. And the days that followed. But I didn’t mourn for them. I didn’t even cry. I just carried on, with the job. As was my duty. But here… everything is…” she paused trying to find the right words, “I don’t even know these people.” She stated exasperated, feeling the tears role down her face and splash onto the back of her hand.

~ Why does it bother me so much? ~ she wanted to ask, ~ Why cant I block these out like I did before? ~ but the words wouldn’t come out.

She felt the air change again as the person stood up. She felt his hands grab her shoulders and lift her up to her feet. “Lieutenant.” He said.

But Dhani continued to stare across the room her eyes glazed over.

“Dhanishta.” he said gently his hand brushing against her cheek, wiping the tears away.

His hand startled her into looking his direction, as her eyes focused she saw Jiiles.

He caught her gaze for a few seconds and turned away, deep in thought. He looked back at her, his head titled slightly. “The sight of death… The smell of blood… It never gets easier. No matter how many times you see it happen, or the aftermath, it’s always hard.” He explained, sharing with her that even for him, it was not an easy sight.

She nodded numbly. But even so she couldn’t understand why she couldn’t just flick the switch. Switch off the emotions that made her feel this way. Hell she’d watched her fiancé die. She had held him in her arms. And she shed no tear. Why were things so different here? Why was she different here? Why couldn’t she block them out, like she had done, like Sark taught her? Did Vulcan logic lessons come with an expiry date?

She rested her head on his shoulder as he escorted her out of the morgue, one foot after the other. A part of him longed to be Betazoid. To be able to sense what she was going through. The other part of him believed he already knew. She must be feeling what he was. The sadness of the disaster around them, the dread of moving from deck to deck, knowing what they were going to find. Still, he wanted to know more…

OOC: some repeated material here but interspersed also with new material, so hopefully not too tedious!

"Deja-vu: First First Contact" - Part One

Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian

Personal Log.

"We have arrived at the planet Quentin, where we are to make what the Federation calls 'First Contact' with one of the races who inhabit this world. Apparently, they have recently developed warp technology, and it is Federation policy to approach them only when this milestone has been reached. I am puzzled by this restriction. The Romulan Empire has a long and illustrious history of expanding to include more primitive species and bringing them the benefit of our culture, civilisation and technological advancements. The Federation prefers to jealously gate-keep its knowledge and refinements, choosing only to contact other species when they become a significant threat, it seems. Of course, they claim that these policies are there to 'protect' the primitive species from 'contamination' - but, of course, as soon as First Contact is initiated, 'contamination' occurs immediately.. and.. exponentially.."

The Romulan trailed off from his dictation. Something was wrong about what he was saying - something was.. inappropriate about it. Dark, even. Contamination, such a destructive word, and destruction following meeting.. Savar shook his head, and prepared to resume. Perhaps he was more tired than he realised: there was no basis for his disquiet. Or for the sudden image in his mind's eye of threads of fire, like infected veins, spreading across a desert world.

"This is.. a weak excuse. The Federation cites cases in the past where entire cultures have been altered drastically by a few careless acts, as if this justifies their mean-spiritedness. The fact is, if they had chosen to instead make contact with the backwards races and enlighten them, their futures would have been bright instead of bleak. But no, the learned Federation knows best. Every planet must go through the same cycle of destruction and deprivation that worlds like Earth endured. Such nonsense."

Tr'Khellian went on purposefully, recording his work alongside Lt Geluf in performing a tactical assessment of Quentin's races, his unusual hesitation now forgotten. He left his seat on the couch and began to pace.

"Nevertheless," he concluded, "it is quite understandable that the Federation would wish to engage with these people before they begin arming their warp vessels with nuclear warheads. I made a full report to Captain M'Kantu - who remains taciturn in his dealings with me."

"Perhaps the most bizarre facet of this mission is its reliance on a Risian ambassador, who --"

An image of fire blazed suddenly and without warning into the Romulan's head, and an explosion of klaxons rang in his ears. The sensory overload was enough to stagger him physically. His heart pounding in his shocked ears, sweat prickling at his palms, tr'Khellian steadied himself, gasping as he turned towards the viewport. Quentin was there, blue, green, white, turning imperceptibly, serene, pacific. But still, Savar's heart thumped, adrenaline rushing through his coppery veins. His eyes flicked towards the lights by the door, expecting the urgent cereise of red alert. They were dull, and unlit. His hands trembling, the Romulan moved swiftly towards the door to his quarters, which hissed apart at his approach. He peered out into the corridor, looking up and down it. No thunder of boots running towards emergency stations. No flashing lights. No sirens. As he stood there, a young woman rounded the corner and walked past him, with a small boy in tow. The child gawked at the half-dressed Romulan, and Savar's keen hearing picked up the mother scolding him for staring as they passed out of his sight.

Frowning with confusion, he stepped back into his rooms. "Computer," he barked, "what is our alert status?"

"Condition Green," came the staccato reply.

"Has red alert been sounded within the last five minutes?" he demanded.

"Negative."

"Is there an emergency onboard?"

"Negative. All systems are functioning within normal parameters."

"Then why are my hands trembling?" he muttered in Rihannsu.

"Please restate the question," the computer droned.

"Iurret!" the Romulan snapped. ['Shut up']

Shaking his head, the patrician took off his boots, and padded over to his washstand, running cold water into the bowl before splashing his face, cleansing off the beads of sweat that had gathered on his upper lip. He peered at his own reflection, worried at what he had just experienced. He really felt no more weary than usual after an eight hour shift. Perhaps the strain of serving beneath others - and especially humans - was finally beginning to tell. He went back into the main living space, removed his uniform trousers and hung them over the back of a chair, then moved into his bedroom, slumping onto his bunk. He still felt out of sorts, as if he should really be somewhere else, and it took him a long time to drift off into a fitful sleep.

**

"None, Captain. No lifesigns at all. None whatsoever on the planet. It's dead. They're all dead."

Cassius Henderson was lying half-dead on the ground, the horrid stench of burned clothing and flesh drifting on the smoke-filled air. A frosty-faced woman was manning Tactical. Fires raged over Quentin, and klaxons howled in Savar's ears.

"Sensor logs indicate the epicentre was the beam-down co-ordinates for your delegation," the Romulan was saying. He looked up from his console to meet M'Kantu's gaze. "The damage sustained to the Galaxy and our subsequent trajectory confirm it."

The African's face was suddenly close to his, taunting, questioning, undermining, secretly mocking his disgrace. Savar wanted to flinch away from the dark-skinned man's hollow, accusatory eyes.

"Captain," Savar said, as M'Kantu's head began to turn away, "your ship has apparently just caused the extinction of an entire planet. Are you so willing to accept this that you refuse to investigate alternative causes?"

"If there are cloaked ships out there, Sub-Commander, we're in no shape to engage them right now."

And they really weren't: the ugly Galaxy-II class vessel had been battered badly by the explosion emanating from Quentin's surface. She hung there, barely retaining her intertial dampners, all her defences lost: and now he, Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian, was responsible. He glanced at the prone form of Lieutenant Commander Henderson, as a blue shimmer of particles descended and took him away, to Sickbay.

**

"Do you know of my situation?"

Savar felt himself nod, without knowing why. The doctor explained her need for Romulan blood, to operate on the Senator's heart.

"It would be an *honour* to save your life, Senator," tr'Khellian stated, with a small bow. With these words and this gestures he let Omar know a great debt was being created, one which would not be forgotten. He turned to Reynolds. "My duties are important at this time, please be swift."

**

The fires over Quentin raged still. "My apologies, Captain," Savar said, inclining his head respectfully. "I was needed in Sickbay for longer than anticipated." The African gave a short nod, and tr'Khellian took one of two remaining seats. He looked around at the assembled staff, sensing their hostility, their edginess, their suspicion, their bafflement. Endless discussion ensued, the room spinning with bureaucratic overload, with Savar's frustration, with M'Kantu's running of his ship by committee.

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

On and on the discussion went, now with added vitriol as the assembled crewmembers fought over who would take a trip to the holocaustal surface of Quentin. Sub-Commander tr'Khellian grunted significantly. He was amazed at the Starfleet Officers' lack of dignity and discipline, squabbling like children over who got to go on an outing. But he was more amazed at the Captain, sitting there in silence and letting this rabble blunder onwards, leaving it to the Chief Medical Officer to point out that precious time was being wasted. What a farce.

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

**

A richly-accented voice crackled out across a damaged intercom.

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

**

Tr'Khellian turned a sour expression onto the Starfleet Captain. "I *still* have no access to sensors. Repairs are taking far too long!"

"I am confident that Commander Suder's staff is working as fast as possible," M'Kantu remarked, turning back to face the viewscreen.

The Romulan grasped his console so hard that his olive-coloured hands grew pale, his eyes boring a hole into M'Kantu's back. As if the impotence of manning a station on someone else's bridge were not enough, there was the added disgrace of serving under an idle sloth like this African, his tone dismissive, abusive of the experienced veteran's cautions and advice.

By the Elements, he wished he were in command of this ship! How he missed surveying the whole operations of a warship from the vantage point of absolute power - how he missed ordering, rather than offering 'recommendations'! This was agony, subject to the whims of this slow-witted dunce - this was imprisonment, not an opportunity, further punishment for his defiance, forced to serve beneath a weak and impotent human.

"Captain," tr'Khellian said, looking up from his station, "another vessel is entering the far-reaches of the system."

"Elaborate," M'Kantu ordered, with a frown.

"It has no warp engines and is of primitive design. Maximum speed in the region of 80 per cent impulse. Equipped with several sensor arrays. It appears to be a very basic survey vessel." The Romulan looked down and tapped at his console, then raised an eyebrow. "It appears to be armed with a nuclear warhead."

"Lifeforms?"

"Seventeen." He tapped again at his console. "All Quentites." He looked towards the Captain, one dark eyebrow arched in an icy expression. "It looks as we have some explaining to do."

**

"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."

The three ships swung menancingly into the system, their rainbow warp trails sweeping behind them like wraith-cloaks: the Sovereign in the lead, powerful, intimidating, sleek and cold; the ancient Excelsior, an aged veteran of costlier errors than these; the Pershing, tiny and deadly, an equatorial mosquito ready to sting the Galaxy's exposed, fatty flesh.

"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."

**

"They're here to find out what happened, Sub-Commander." Daren paused a moment, then went on with the rest of it. He'd never like holding things back from his subordinates. "There was some sort of a research facility - a Federation one, it seems; one unknown to the inhabitants - on the planet. Admiral Hoth couldn't confirm its exact nature, but he did confirm that something had been here. He also wouldn't confirm his orders, but I expect that he was sent to secure that facility, recover any and all surviving materials from it, and try to cover up its existence and possible culpability in the destruction of the planet."

"Deja-vu: First First Contact" - Part Two

Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian

"It is folly," Savar said, simply.

Daren nodded and turned to look at the tactical plot for a moment. "Do you know what the one unifying characteristic that all sentient races have is Sub-Commander?" He looked up. "Culturally, I mean."

The answer 'foolish pride' sprang to mind, but tr'Khellian bit back the sour response. From the look on the African's face and the way his tone had changed, he could feel an attempt at profundity coming on. Quite when M'Kantu became the galaxial expert on anthropology eluded the Romulan. "I am quite sure you're going to tell me, Captain," he replied, drily.

"Every single sentient race that we've encountered among the stars, every one of them, Sub-Commander, possessed something that they were willing to die for. An ideal, a plot of land, money, their gods... something. That capacity to consciously surrender one's sense of self-preservation in defense of something else is what separates us from the animals." Daren met the Romulan's eyes. "Even if they know that their defense is doomed, even if they know that no one will ever know that they made their stand... they do so. I swore my oath to the Federation a lifetime ago, Sub-Commander, but I remember it still. What these men are doing is wrong - it violates the core beliefs that the Federation was founded on do violently, so criminally, that it must be opposed. Even if we can't win. Even if no one will ever know. Because to step aside makes us a part of their crime, makes us like them... and that's too high a price."

"Then you are willing to send hundreds to their deaths, and commit open mutiny. It is folly," he repeated. But he squared his shoulders again, and took his stance at the Tactical console, resigned to this mad fate, to wherever the Elements whimmed them all.

"Charge the weapons, Sub-Commander."

**

"One of Nimitz's fighters just fired on ours.  We've lost Vanguard 7. Shit....  It's a mess... They're all firing...  I..."  She paused and took a deep breath, looking down at Henderson, who'd just been hung up on by the Quentites.

"Sir," she said to M'Kantu, "I think it's begun."

"Maintain defensive posture, sub-Commander."

"Galaxy, this is Vanguard One. I really hope this is important, because we're kind of busy not dying out here." the Trill stated when the comm opened.

"Stand down your squadron," tr'Khellian's voice barked over the speakers. "Repeat: stand down."

"Well, see, I'd love to do that sir. But I've just had a little conversation with White Knights Lead -" Corran broke off as he had to put all his attention into evading another minitorp spread. "Sorry about that, Galaxy. Anyways, White Knights Leader doesn't seem inclined to stop shooting at us. If we stop, we're all dead. I'm more than willing to take an alternative to that."

A brief sigh from the Romulan punctuated a gap between incoming fire. "Lieutenant, this is a direct order from your Captain. STAND DOWN." Ice crystals would have formed on the words if they could have. Did no one in this Starfleet obey any orders at all?

"Sir, you didn't hear his voice. If we power down, they WILL kill us."

Tr'Khellian shot an exasperated, furious glare at M'Kantu, his hands twitching on his console with annoyance. "Stand by," he snapped, before cutting the comm. "Vanguard Squadron cannot extricate themselves from battle," he reported.

"We just lost Vanguard Nine," Pennington reported from the secondary tactical console.

The Romulan's head snapped back towards the African CO. "Battle is joined, Captain," he stated imperiously. "We either do, or die."

**

["Vanguard One to Galaxy. Reinforcement fighters coming from the Hood. Their weapons are trained on us. If you don't - or can't - come in and help us, we're dead, Captain."]

**

Outside the sleek grey form of the USS Nimitz seemed to suddenly veer off at a 90 degree angle and roll out on a new course that brought her directly parallel to the approaching Hood.

All attempts to warn off Captain DeSoto went unanswered, and it seemed as if Hoth's prediction of a cat-fight was soon to be in the offering. Multiple green-tractor beams lanced out of Nimitz's belly streaking across the vacuum to ensnare no less than eight of her recalcitrant fighters in one fell swoop. The tiny craft were no match for the limitless power of Starfleet's most advanced vessel.

A similar beam stabbed out from the dorsal emitter, and attempted to slow the approaching Hood which was closely following her own fighter screen. This proved to be a more difficult maneuver. The Hood had already built up a full head of steam, and her sheer mass was proving difficult for the single beam to slow. Unfortunately it also made it difficult for the Hood to swerve out of the way.

Desperately attempting to swerve, but unable to because of the tractor holding it in place, the USS Hood struck the Nimitz just Starboard of the saucer midline.

The force of the blow put the Nimitz into a nauseating spin, which as a result flung the fighters it held in its ventral tractors across space, scattering them to the four corners.

Hood's bow buckled impressively, and its aft end flipped end for end, sending the hundred year old starship tumbling through space.

Unfortunately the Hood's left nacelle broke loose form its mountings, and lanced forward like some 300 meter long javelin, aimed directly at the heart of the Galaxy.

"Hard to starboard!"

**

"I recommend an immediate strike on the Hood before they can recover. Their weapons and propulsion systems are still online and their fighter squadron is rallying for another strike-run... We must act *now*, before they recover."

"No, not the Hood, Sub-Commander." The Pershing it was.

"Target their propulsion systems only, Sub-Commander," frowned the Captain.

"Their weapons -"

"The propulsion systems," barked M'Kantu. "Ms. Pennington, I need those missiles now."

"Firing!"

On the main viewscreen, six flashes of light overwhelmed all sight, and the viewer darkened so as not to blind the bridge crew. When it returned, the Pershing was limping in space, it's shields overwhelmed by the energy of the blast. From his position across the bridge, Henderson nodded to Pennington. She'd played her part spectacularly, though he doubted there was a future after this.

On the main bridge, the Romulan at Tactical was bent over his console, his eyes narrowed, his hands, which were trembling slightly with the combined effect of fatigue and adrenaline, moving jerkily across the console as he picked out specific targets on the Pershing's hull. His time studying the sensor data he'd captured from the Valiant class vessel he had seen the day he boarded the Galaxy had not been in vain. A small but powerful spray of photon torpedoes arced out from the fore and ventral launchers, smashing into the Pershing's exposed hull with a series of bright explosions that tore through the cruiser's ablative armour. Another volley, launched seconds after the first, the torpedoes' yields lowered for precision, penetrated to the primary hull, causing a bright blossom of an explosion and flinging the battered vessel across space...

"Stand us down, Commander Henderson. Sub-Commander, power the weapons down and stand by to commence rescue operations on Hood and Pershing once we get those pilots aboard."

The Romulan's jaw dropped, and he gawped wordlessly at the African, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Daren turned back to the screen. "Once we get things under control, Admiral..."

"We'll deal with that when the time comes, Daren," Hoth said quietly. "You're not going anywhere, are you?"

"No, sir," Daren returned with a sad smile. "Nowhere at all."

Recovering, Sub-Commander tr'Khellian severed the comm and turned his burning eyes towards the Captain. "You cannot be serious!" he cried. He pressed his hand to his right temple, where a sudden sharp pain had flared up, at the site of the wound he had suffered when Quentin had been ravaged. His hand was cold, a result of poor circulation, and it helped numb the pain. His eyelids flickered for a moment as the pain subsided. He had been on duty for far too long, and under considerable stress thanks to M'Kantu's highly questionable tactics. "We have the upper hand here, and you want us to stand down our shields? All of those ships are damaged, but all three still have fully functional weapons systems - they could fire upon us at *any* time. This is merely a ploy on their part. A volley of quantum torpedoes from the Nimitz at the site of the hull breach could tear this ship apart!"

Daren shook his head at the paranoiac manning his tactical station. "It's over, Sub-Commander. Stand down our defences."

**

"Survivors?" M'Kantu queried, somewhat incredulously.

"Unknown," came the flat response. "One is human. The other...?" The Romulan looked up, a deep frown etched on his features.

The young officer manning Operations spoke up, with an urgent tone. "Captain, I'm getting some strange readings from the planet."

"Elaborate, Ensign," Daren commanded, turning his attention back to the front of the Bridge.

"Some sort of wavefront is forming," she replied, her hands dabbing at her console nervously. "I.. can't make anything of the readings. High tachyon levels, presence of chroniton particles along the leading edge."

"The wavefront is gathering in concentration and velocity."

"Chroniton particles."

"Get me Admiral Hoth," Daren snapped to Bartlett as he turned to Savar. "Time to impact?"

"Three minutes," the Romulan replied, with no hesitation.

"Can we outrun it?"

"No." The reply fell on M'Kantu's ears like lead, the two men's eyes locked.

Having survived the most unlikely encounter in either of their lives, they were still not in the clear. The Romulan's instincts had been right. The Elements did not smile on those who attempted to cheat their destiny; whatever glitter of teeth they might show was the glint of light from a predator's jaw.

"Ten seconds."

"Eight seconds."

"Five seconds."

"Flare up."

The saucer flipped like a pancake being tossed, presenting its broadest surface area to the rift just as it struck.

The Romulan clung grimly to the Tactical arch as the Galaxy's saucer was rebuffed by the wavefront, systems failing across the board as the gaping maw took a malicious bite into the hull. Spinning wildly across the event horizon, the saucer careered uncontrollably into the Nimitz's one remaining nacelle. The resulting implosion blasted the two vessels apart, the once grand Sovereign class vessel streaking towards the irradiated surface of Quentin, trailing burning plasma in its wake, the stunned Galaxy wheeling back into the mouth of the spatial rift. Someone on the bridge lost control and screamed in fear; across the saucer, the skeleton crew began to report losses and systems failures, the comm filled with the cries of the dying and wounded. His mouth set into a grim, stony line, tr'Khellian staggered upright, and cut off all comm access to the Bridge. Whatever was happening down there was no worse than the doom awaiting them all now. Glancing around, he saw consoles had exploded around the Bridge; several crewmembers lay comatose, or already dead. For his own part, Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian barely felt the trickle of blood running from his left temple.

The last image burning into his mind as the Galaxy was sucked inexorably into the rift was a sight of the aged USS Hood imploding brightly like a tiny star going supernova. Hundreds of men, women and children perished instantaneously. A more drawn out and painful death awaited those on the saucer.

For one long moment, time slowed, and it was as if they were passing through treacle, the colours faded and skewed, motion incomprehensible, and bile rising in all their stomachs. Then it was gone, and they were plummeting, plummeting, towards the surface of Quentin.

He saw the Captain rise up and steady himself next to the conn; M'Kantu glanced at him, and the Romulan returned a fierce gaze which communicated his intention to die on his feet, at his station -- on this ship, so alien, so cold, so very far, far away from the men and women and lands he loved.

'Not like this!' every part of his spirit sobbed in anguish. Not like this: saved from fate then dashed on the rocks of destiny, surrounded by aliens who despised him, reviled by those he served, his star forever fallen, his soul never redeemed.

Another explosion ripped through the shattering hull of the saucer as the engines blew; the Engineering console to Savar's rear was destroyed in searing heat, the person manning it incinerated in fiery plasma. The Romulan cried out in pain as his back was peppered with shrapnel, and the agony threatening to take all strength from his legs, only saved by a timely lurch forwards, his arms grabbing the Tactical arch like the last desperate act of a jilted lover, two ribs cracking brutally as his torso smacked down on the hardened surface.

He winced, his eyes wet with the searing pain coarsing through him, but still he forced himself to stand. M'Kantu, that man of utter, utter folly, was making one last stand, trying one last time to ride the tiger, a control stick in his hands. Tr'Khellian's hardened heart broke as he saw this lone figure engaged in an act of utmost futility, a stupid, desperate, pointless act -- but if he could, he would have lent his last strength to help him.

Oh, the folly.

The planet raced towards them, dust and fire.

"Not like this," he cried, softly. "Not like this."

**

He awoke immediately, drenched in sweat, gasping for air, sweet air, tangled in sheets like manacles. He fought desperately to be free of them, his heart pounding, his eyes blind without light, fear fresh in his mouth.

He sat there in the dark, his breath ragged, his body shuddering, as evaporating perspiration caused shivering cold.

Where?

Where am I?

Am I?

His careful, incredulous hands found his head, his torso. If he could trust his senses, his trembling hands, his addled mind, he existed, somewhere.

"Light," he whispered hoarsely, in Rihannsu.

The resultant glare of harsh intensity blinded the patrician, who strove feebly to shield his anguished, burning eyes. Moments passed and still he could not see, and now his anxiety was too much to bear: staggering with disorientation, he groped his way to the lavatory, and was violently sick. It was only then, his body shuddering with its ordeal, that he realised he had found his way in a familiar setting.

His room. On Galaxy. Not.. destroyed.

His eyes now seeing palely through a sheen of wetness, he clambered to his feet and stared at himself in the mirror. His skin was pallid, beaded with unhealthy sweat, marked by the twisted rope of his sheets. A sharp pain in his left temple throbbed, and a dull ache worried his lower chest. He spat, breathlessly, into the bowl, and rinsed his fetid mouth out with fresh, cool water.

"What.. in the name of the Elements," he mouthed, barely audible, at his own horrid reflection. No dream. He rarely had dreams and this was not even what the humans called a nightmare: it was worse than torture techniques dreamt up by the twisted minds of the Tal Shiar. It was his own doom and destruction, writ with startling, horrific clarity. The scent of death clung to his nostrils.

Still shivering uncontrollably, he stripped off his soaked underclothes and stepped into the shower. After ten minutes of being blasted with scalding water, his heart rate had calmed, and his body felt cleansed, but his mind was simply asking more questions. Padding back into his living space, shrouded in a towelling robe, taking cautious, small steps like a poorly child, he touched the wall, as if to test its reality.

All he could see was real. But what he had seen had been real. The visions of fire before he slept: the waking and sleeping horrors bled into one another. It was too much to comprehend.

Suddenly he felt unable to be alone. Even surrounded by these aliens who suspected and despised him - even that was better than this.. madness. Grabbing clothes, he pulled them on, his hair still wet. He needed to see others, to have them see him, to test *his* reality.

Not knowing where he was headed, he went into the corridor, and walked.

Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian
Romulan Exchange Officer
Assistant Tactical Officer
USS Galaxy

'Certain it is and sure: love burns, ale burns, fire burns, and politics burns. But cold was life without them.' - Ancient Rihannsu Proverb

"Friends In Life"

Primary Characters:
Lieutenant Commander Cassius Henderson
Lieutenant JG Ahdjiia D'Tinya

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 7
Lieutenant JG D'Tinya's Quarters

Cassius Henderson was feeling out of sorts.  He'd reported what he and Rima Pennington remembered to Captain M'Kantu, and now he didn't know quite what do with himself.  ~If I go back to tactical, my own people are going to ask me endless questions about what just happened...  I don't want to sleep...~ he thought, wracking his brain,  ~What I want is somebody to talk to.  Then he remembered the young security officer he'd met when he'd been hiding from the androids during Mudd's invasion of the Galaxy.  ~And we all know how *that* turned out, don't we...~ he reminded himself, remembering how violated he'd felt after he'd been purged of the pheremones' effect.

Finally, after pacing around for a while, he decided to go see what Lieutenant D'Tinya was up to.  She'd been a good listener the first time around, and maybe she'd be able to talk to him now.  Tapping his commbadge, he decided to call ahead.

"Henderson to D'Tinya," he said, "Are you busy right now?"   Ahdjiia was packing her things for her move and as it was she had Little Ones all skittering around excitedly.  She smiled at hearing Cassius' voice.  "Not particularly.", she said over the commlink, "Please, come over."

"Be right there," he nodded, shutting the link and heading for the nearest turbolift. It was only a few decks from where he was presently wandering, and he soon arrived. As he entered Lieutenant D'Tinya's quarters, he immediately noticed how shuffled everything looked, and the amount of boxes that were present in the web-filled room.

"Ah. Something 'Major' happening, Lieutenant?" he asked with a grin, unable to help himself, "How are you, Ahdjiia?"

"I'm doing well.", she said with a soft smile, "I'm moving to different quarters."

"So I noticed," he said, "How is Major Bolivar handling the presence of your Little Ones? I know they rattled me the first time I was here." The rumor had spread fast, and Henderson, who had been in Bolivar's field for far, far, too long, had ears for detail.

"More concerned with possibly stepping on the smaller of them.", she said, "But I am not worried."

"They've been around people for long enough," Henderson nodded, "They're used to it." He breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be out of the halls and someplace he could be apart from the other tacticians for a while. "Need help packing?"

"I've got most of it done.", she said, "But it's just down to carefully boxing the smaller things carefully."

"Well, if you need anything, I'm up to it," he said, in the meantime carefully taking a seat in the midst of the room. "Hey... Do you, remember anything... Like things that didn't happen." He struggled for a moment to think... "You might have been on an away mission to Quentin... After it was destroyed in an explosion?"

Ahdjiia tensed at Cassius' words. "I saw you dead.", she said softly.

"I saw me dead too," he said, "Or... about to die. I stayed on the ship. In the end I tried to take the civilians to safety. With Rima... And Bartlett and Pike. To microjump..." Again he searched for a memory, "From in front of a wavefront. It didn't work and the secondary hull fragmented. We must have been sucked in."

"Saladin saw his death as well."

"So Rima and I aren't alone," he said, frowning, "And the captain said Rex and Geluf had experienced similar things as well. Something is very wrong here. I remember that chroniton particles were mentioned on the bridge. As part of the wavefront."

"I still feel the pain of loss.", Ahdjiia said, "Even though I know you all are here, alive."

"I get that way with Ensign Pennington," he nodded, "Even if we can rarely agree if we hate each other or like each other. Though these visions would seem to indicate the second." He frowned at the thought. He was having a hard time coming to terms with that memory.

Ahdjiia sat down. "We are all affected by these...visions.", she said, "Even Saladin."

"I'd be willing to bet he's loath to admit that to anyone but you," he replied, "What are you both doing to deal with them?"

She took a deep breath before speaking, "We are going to bond."

"So I'm told," he nodded, then explained himself, "A few crewmembers have seen you about lately. Congratulations." ~I can only hope I'll be so lucky within time.~ he thought to himself, then immediately wondered with whom. Certainly not Ella Grey anymore... And Rima Pennington? Again he had a hard time believing strange memories. Even if they probably were real.

"I did not know we've been so obvious.", she said with a soft smile, knowing how discreet Saladin had been about public affection.

"Not obvious," he said, "Just together. Ehlanna Thorne mentioned she'd seen you together, talking in a corridor the other day. Truth be told, she probably mentioned it because she's terrified of Saladin. I make it my business to know who walks with who. Bad, old habit. I imagine Saladin probably does the same."

He does.", she said with a smile, "But then he is in Intelligence."

"Then again, I was for most of my career," Henderson smiled in turn, "I'm glad I got out. He's probably better at it than I am. I have the eye, but not the stomach."

"It does seem to take a select sort for it.", she said, "I don't think I could do it."

"Oh yes," he nodded, "We witness far too much in the confines of those rooms. Outside of them, even more. Enough of that. Do your customs call for any celebration with friends? I know his don't really, but I'm afraid I've really been somewhat remiss in learning about yours."

"It is difficult to know about my people.", Ahdjiia said, "When Starfleet asked me to fill out what I could, I could not since things differ according to the Revered Ones we follow."

"Ah. Another reason that a career in intelligence is hard," Henderson said, then asked again, "So. Celebrating?"

"We will be following his people's customs for the most part.", she said, "But I believe we will have something small for friends."

"That sounds good," he said, "Give Saladin my best."

"I shall.", she said with a smile.

He was silent for a long while. "Have you met Rima Pennington?"

"I know of her, but not met her."

"Ah. I think the thing that bothers me most about all of these memories, is that in the end I remember myself being drawn to her. And I remember her being drawn to me," he said, "But what I also know, is that in real circumstances, it doesn't work that way..."

"Do you wish to see if it might?", Ahdjiia asked.

"I don't know if it's a matter of wanting to," he said, "I think we'll see if it will or not. Rima doesn't know what she wants, and she's very strong willed."

"Have you spoken to her?"

"About the memories, yes," he replied.

"What has she said?"

"Like I said, Rima doesn't know what she wants, and he favorite way of dealing with things is being avoidant," he said, "We haven't talked seriously about that aspect."

"Perhaps you should."

"It would be nice if I could just order her to talk to me about that," he nodded, "Unfortunately, I doubt it works that way. She'll come around in time."

"Then you just have to be patient."

"I suppose so," he nodded, "Thank you."

Ahdjiia smiled. "I believe the terran phrase is 'good things come to those who wait."

"I certainly hope it's a good thing," he nodded, "Rima is a difficult woman. I'll know more in time." He smiled. "She is who she is."

"I wish you well.", she said with a soft smile, "I will even pray to Anashwaa on your behalf."

"Again, thank you. I appreciate your friendship," he said, "It means a lot."

"It means much to me as well."

"Well, I should be going," he said, "I do have some more to do today. I'll see you soon," he said, rising.

"Indeed.", Ahdjiia said as she rose as well to finish her packing and moving.

Cassius left her room troubled. He trusted his own feelings, and he certainly did trust his ability to deal with Rima Pennington. What he didn't trust was Rima Pennington's feelings. She was so uncertain, so wild and unknown. She was the x factor. The variable in the equation. The chaos.

"The Thing To Do"

(Occurs three days after the events of 'Echoes...')

Principal Characters:
Lt. Ella Grey
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff

Secondary Characters:
Lt. Asa Chandler

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 10
Ella Grey's Quarters

She was a bit distracted when the buzzer for the door went off the first couple of times. By the fifth ring, she had pulled it together enough to unlock lips with her latest conquest and stare at her door. It was silent, however, and she figured her visitor had just given up. Which was fine by her, Ella thought with a shrug before instigating a playful struggle to be on top. The lieutenant from Astrometrics grinned around her lips and let her win, his hands moving for the zipper on her pants as she helped him out of his shirt by ripping it free from the buttons.

The soft 'shush' of the door opening was lost in the sound Asa made as Ella's nails ran lightly up the skin of his chest and the rasp of her zipper as his hands found their target.

Victor paused inside the doorway, the darkened room not what he'd expected. It took only an instant for the sounds coming from the couch under the viewport and the scent of the two people there to register, and then he knew what he'd interrupted. For a moment he considered backing through the door - it was obvious that he wasn't close enough for Grey's latest partner to have been affected by his presence yet, and she was likewise too occupied with what she was doing to have noticed his entrance - then shrugged and stepped forward, into the darkened room. It would only take a moment to do what he'd come to do, there'd be plenty of time for Grey get what she wanted from the man when he was gone.

He took two steps into the room, the package in his hand oddly heavy of a sudden, as though it were trying to stay in his hand by making itself so massive that gravitic attraction held it there despite his wishes. He frowned and stopped by the desk set to one side to set it down... and placed Grey's partner within the range of his 'aura.'

Asa stiffened, aware that something was wrong and looked around to find the source of his sudden fear, as his hands reached for Ella to push her away. "Someone's here," he gasped.

Ella gasped slightly as she realized it was Victor but shrieked when the lieutenant realized it was Victor. He leapt up, dumping Ella over onto the floor in the process, and started blubbering excuses, "Lights! I thought they were just rumors... I didn't know she was yours....", before running, shirt billowing, for the nearest shelter.

Ella - lips swollen, shirt slightly open, ass now sore - looked up at Victor with murder in her eyes.

Victor watched the lieutenant dash through the door to Grey's roommate's room and heard the chirp as the lock engaged before he turned back to Grey. She was mad, he noted. That was good - it made what he was here to do easier. He considered helping her up, decided against it, and chose to try and make her madder so she wouldn't object when he told her why he was here. "Your shirt's undone," he observed calmly.

~~You... you...~~Ella's hands began before clenching as she let out a frustrated sound and laid down on the ground in an effort not to leap up and throttle him. Asa, figuring that he couldn't stay in Indigo's room forever, bravely exited the room, hugged the walls to the door, and then ran out.

Victor watched the lieutenant flee before repeating, "Your shirt is open," with clinical detatchment, the view Ella's position gave him appearing to attract as much interest as a cold cup of coffee.

She sat up. ~~I don't care about the shirt. Two months, Victor! I've been without for two months!~~

"You went what, fifteen years, sixteen before you ever did that to begin with, and you didn't die then. Two months isn't going to kill you now," he observed.

Ella snorted. ~~I can't wait for ever for yo... you know, true love to fall in my lap.~~ She stuck her lip out in a pout. ~~He was so hot.~~ She got up, arranged the shirt back into place. ~~So, what's the big emergency?~~

Victor forced his hand to release the box to the surface of the table. "Your things - the ones you've left when you stayed over. I brought them back."

Her eyes hardened. ~~You interrupted me for that?!~~

"I didn't know you were doing that until the door opened, and there was no reason to waste the trip at that point."

~~So sorry to be a time consumer in your busy schedule!~~ Ella signed in a fury.

"I can go catch him for you, if you want?" Victor offered." Bring him back so you can finish what you were doing."

Ella snorted. ~~Like he'd be able to get it up now. The only use you are to me at the moment is if little Victor wants to play.~~ She stormed into her room to let him stew on that while she pulled out the pajamas she was going to wear now that she would be very much un-naked this evening.

She was going to have to set the sonic shower for the coldest humidity possible.

Victor watched her storm off and frowned trying to understand why it bothered him.

She stomped back out, blue flannels in hand. She tried to sign but the pajamas were in the way so she dropped them on the floor. ~~What do you mean the things I left?~~

"The things you left," he repeated back at her. He indicated the box. "When you've stayed over so you could sleep. Shampoo and soap from the shower. Three pairs of undergarments; two black, one red. Two pairs of socks. Three shirts. One pair of shorts. Some makeup."

She gave him a cold stare. ~~You have no conception of how much I want to hurt you right now.~~

She was finally mad, he realized. That would make things easier. She didn't think as well when she was mad. He just had to make certain that she didn't realize what he was doing until it was done. "Really? Are you sure?"

~~Oh, I get it Victor, I really do.~~ Ella snapped as she went over to her replicator and programmed herself some hot chocolate. ~~Bring back her things~~ Her fingers moved between hitting buttons. ~~Clear out her presence.~~ She stabbed the keys, willing the drink to appear faster. ~~Move on with life.~~

"Then there isn't any need to explain anything, is there?" He watched, suddenly worried that she was going to burn herself with whatever she was ordering in her agitation.

Ella set down the cup because she was afraid she might toss it at his head. The next few words from her hands were short, crude, but conveyed the general dismissal of his presence.

It was done, he realized. Good. It was better this way. He nodded once and turned to leave, face expressionless, and an odd ache inside him. He was going to miss having a friend.

She watched his back retreat, ran over to her pajamas, crumpled the pants quickly into a ball and lobbed them at his head. It wasn't much of a blow but it made him turn around.

Victor reached up an pulled the pajama pants away from his head where they'd wrapped around it after impact. Throwing things was good, that meant she was still mad, but it would have been a better sign if she'd used something heavier. "Yes, Grey?"

She moved in front of him in four strides and then shoved him with all her might. ~~You're... a quitter.~~

That was different, Victor reflected as he suppressed three different reflexive responses to the shove, any of which would have left Grey on the floor broken and in pain. He'd been called many things in his life - and he remembered each and every one of them - but never that. He frowned as he draped the pajama pants over the back of a chair casually. "No, I don't think so," he finally responded.

She shoved him again. ~~You just accept what they tell you.~~

The reflexes were harder to suppress that time, and he only managed to stop the last one when he realized that he had already lifted a hand to take her by the throat. He was starting to get angry, he knew that. What he didn't know was why Grey with just a few words and a simple shove could do that to him. It didn't matter though - he just knew that he had to leave before he hurt her. "Stop it, Grey," he said quietly.

~~I want you to fight back!~~ Her hands yelled. ~~I want you to be angry! I want you to care!~~

This time when her hands reached out to shove him, something inside him snapped like a wire and he couldn't stop himself. His hand caught her by the front of her open shirt and drew her in as he lifted so she was on her toes, almost off the floor. "I can't, Grey," he growled, his voice the warning rumble of a predator as he locked eyes with her.

Her hands were unable to sign so she looked up at him angrily.

"I can't care," he repeated. "I can't be angry. I can't fight back."

She lifted her chin stubbornly. "Why?" she mouthed.

He leaned in close, his presence pressing against her palpably, making her heart race as her hindbrain screamed at her to break free and run, to get away from the thing in front of her, to flee. "Because if I care, I'll get angry. If I get angry, I'll fight back. And if I fight back, people will get hurt... or die."

Maybe she wanted a good fight. Maybe she was a masochist. Maybe she wanted to see if she could still be friends with a man that could also scare her. So she leaned in, looked like she might whisper something in his ear, and then brought her knee up sharply.

The pain from the blow slammed through him, pushing the part of his mind that he'd trained to be in control aside as he grunted. He was aware that he'd thrown Grey aside into the wall as he doubled over, heard her hit and slip to the floor with a gasp of released air. His instincts took over and he growled shaking his head to clear it and lifting his head, eyes blazing, to look at her.

Probably not the smartest thing she'd ever done, Ella decided as she looked at him.

He reached up and used the table to lever himself to his feet, shook his head once again, and started to move towards her slowly, the terrible presence she'd felt only once before back now. Death's whispering laugh of welcome sounded in the rasp of his breath as he shook of the last of the pain and straightened up.

No, she decided as she felt her back press against the wall. That was definitely a dumb move. She gulped slightly as Victor stalked towards her. A part of her wanted to laugh it off, apologize for pushing him too far, and hope that he'd snap out of it. But a good part of her, the one that she supposed was usually responsible for blocking his 'aura', remained defiant. ~~Go ahead and hit me, Tiger. You'll feel better.~~

He slowed, as if the effort it took to translate her signed words took most of his concentration, but never completely stopped his advance. His presence was a physical thing now, pressing against her, pinning her to the wall. He was every predator that had hunted man since he was a small homid on the plains of the Serengeti, every monster that lived in the closets of man's subconscious, and, as he reached for her, she really, truly understood why he terrified people just by being there for the first time.

Ella inhaled quickly as he hauled her up. She prepared for the pain, was ready for the pain. But first she'd show this 'monster' who was boss. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and pulled her friend towards her.

His arms came around her as well, crushing her to him. He probably thinks this is some sort of chokehold, she thought with dull amusement. She refused to let go, resting her head against his shoulder as she hugged him, wondering if she would win or pass out. There were worse ways to go, she thought.

His arms pulled her close, tighter than any embrace she'd ever felt, her ribs creaking under the pressure. It was a dreadful parody of the way she'd wanted Asa to hold her, of the way that she secretly wanted Victor to hold her, and that hurt more than the mere physical pain. Victor growled once, tightened his hold again until her breathing was difficult... and stopped, holding her there, not increasing the pressure, but not releasing it either.

The pressure made her pulse roar in her ears like the sound she remembered from holding a seashell to her ear as a child. Her ribs ached with the pressure he was applying, pressure that shifted, taking her breath away, when he lifted slightly and her feet left the floor. He swung her around slowly, stars dancing in front of her eyes, and took a step forward, the edge of her desk bumping into the back of her legs. He leaned forward, pushing her onto it.

The strange embrace was maintained and there was no room for her to look up at him, for him to see the emotion in her eyes. He would have seen panic there but more importantly the sadness that she felt for him, for her, for them both. She managed a slight chopping motion on his back, which under normal circumstances would have been made against her palm. The sign for stop.

There was no sign that he'd noticed her gesture, no sound or movement of recognition or acknowledgement. Just the pressure as he held her to him, lessened somewhat because she was now sitting on the edge of the desk and not supported by his arms as she'd been before. The spots dancing in front of her eyes receded slightly, enough that she realized that he wasn't doing anything. He was just standing there.

She trembled slightly as she pushed herself away. It was going to have to stop, she realized. She couldn't fight for someone who wouldn't accept it. Maybe Victor had the right idea. Why care for people when it never worked out? Why care for people when she inevitably couldn't keep them close?

~~I'm sorry I pushed you.~~ She signed.

He didn't respond, didn't move - but she could see his eyes now, and there was something there that she'd rarely seen in them before: regret. Finally, as if learning how to speak all over again, he said, "I hit you" as though he had just realized it.

Ella shook her head. ~~I would have hit me too.~~ She straightened her back, tried to make herself steady. ~~Guess this is it, Tiger.~~

Victor looked at her blankly, not appearing to understand where the words she was saying had to lead.

~~You're... you're the best friend I've had in a long time.~~ Ella managed. ~~Goodbye.~~ And before he could walk away, she boosted herself off the table and walked briskly into her bedroom. She buried her face into her pink pillows and tried to hold back from crying until she was could hear him leave.

For a long time there was no sound from the other room, then, finally, she heard the door slide open and then close.

She let herself cry for a bit, not loudly because her pillow muffled the sounds, but mostly because she always hated herself when she cried excessively. She sounded like a braying donkey, Ella thought with contempt. Finally, she rolled over and let out a long sigh. Her throat hurt from trying to hold back her emotions. She decided to get a drink.

Ella gave a sharp intake as she walked into the living room. ~~I thought you had left.~~

"No." Victor was still standing in the exact same position she'd left him in.

~~I thought I heard the door~~

"Renkert. She opened the door, saw me, and closed it without coming in."

~~Oh.~~ Ella replied.

He regarded her unreadably, not answering or offering anything, a statue standing there in her room.

The silence was unnerving.~~Say something, Victor.~~

"What do you want me to say?"

~~I don't know.~~ Ella admitted. They stood there for awhile eyeing each other. ~~Tell me what you want.~~

"What I want?" he parroted back without understanding.

~~What you want.~~ She repeated with gentle hand gestures. ~~Why did you stay?~~

He thought for a moment that stretched out into a minute and then some. Why had he stayed? Why hadn't he left? This was what he wanted, what was best for her - but he'd stayed anyway. Finally, he was reduced to a simple answer. "I don't know."

Ella tilted her head, regarding him as if she could attempt to see the answer written somewhere on his face. ~~Do you... would you like to stay here tonight?~~

Victor frowned. Was that what he wanted? Or was it what she wanted, despite having told him to go? Did she need him to stay, to keep the monsters away one more time? "What do you want me to do?" he asked quietly.

Ella lifted a brow. ~~For you to decide. Tell me what you want, Tiger. Not what you think I want.~~

So what did he want? His frown deepened as he looked within himself and tried to find out what it was that he wanted. "I... yes," he said quietly. "I want to stay."

~~Then stay.~~ Ella signed, her heart both leaping and weighing down heavily.

Victor finally shifted position, moving to the couch where Ella and her latest conquest had been when he entered to sit down. He'd been surprised by the admission, the words having just slipped out, and the mix of feelings about the realization would have been difficult for him to sort through even if he'd had more experience with things like that. As it was, he finally was forced to push the whole confused mess aside so he could think about anything else.

He looked up at Ella, uncertain of what to say, certain that he should say something - and unable to find anything to say.

Ella moved to the couch, surprised that it was still a little warm. Awkward, she thought as she looked at the fabric because she couldn't look at Victor.

But they couldn't spend the night like that.

~~I found your movie.~~

He blinked once. "My... movie?"

~~The one from when you were a child.~~

"Oh." He remembered now. The singing starships. He'd told her about them an eternity ago, but he'd never thought that she would actually look for them.

She went and retrieved the disk and then sat down again with a slump. She had wanted to see it with him. But it would be too painful now. ~~Watch it sometime.~~ Her mouth twitched. ~~Its...sweet.~~

He turned the disc over in his hands and nodded slowly. Why had she done that? Why hunt up a memory from his childhood that even he had almost forgotten? "Thank you," he said awkwardly, his lack of comprehension coming through in the words.

~~I guess I wanted you to take a happy memory with you.~~ Ella tried to explain.

Considering what he'd done to make her mad enough to stop being his friend, Victor was puzzled, but after a moment, decided that not understanding it was for the best. Certainly easier that trying to figure it out. "Thank you," he repeated slowly.

She scooted next to him and shrugged and then rested her head on his shoulder.

The movement surprised him, but even more surprising was the part of him that welcomed the contact, even knowing that it would make the lack of it hurt worse. As he'd always done, he sat there for a moment, and then moved his arm to circle her shoulders. Whether it hurt or not, whether he understood why or not, he did know that it was the thing to do.

"Crossroads"

By
Legate Kylar Curran
Chief Liaison Officer
USS Galaxy

And
Lt (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer

*****

Deck 3
Liaison Offices

Kylar's original offices on Deck 3 were no longer required. In the advent of Brhode's transfer, it was now not so much a concern over the former Captain's spontaneous outbursts.

And so, he returned his temporary offices on Deck 3 to the Guest VIP quarters.

Even now as he carried one of his many cartons of personal datafiles he would not store in the computer databases, he pondered just how far away his offices truly were, and why.

The turbolift doors hissed open, to allow entry of several personnel. His eyes fell upon a brunette... a Trill if he observed properly.

Dhanishta flipped her hair out of her face as she stepped into the turbo lift. She had been walking round the ship for hours, just for something to do. Not working was getting to her, that and the counselling sessions. She let out a long sigh as she leaned against the turbo lift wall, resting her head against it. She would have smashed her head against it if it wasn't for the presence of another officer. She glanced over at him and smiled lightly.

Kylar's eyes flicked about the womans body. Not a sultry leer - he had no use for that - but to gauge what and who she was.

"Can I help you, Miss... ? It would appear you have something on your mind. Are you new on board and can't find a certain location?" She still hadn't declared her location, so he assumed she was a new crewmember taking in her surroundings. The ship had taken on a few replacements from the Hood when they rendez-voused with her last month after all.

"No," she replied shaking her head, "you can't help, I'm not new on board. And where ever you're headed is fine." She said leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes.

"How can wherever I am heading be fine if you don't know where I'm going?"

"It doesn't matter." She replied with another sigh.

The turbolift doors parted as the unit halted at its destination.

[Deck 17] The computer chimed out the stop.

*****

Deck 17
Outside Turbolift 4

Curran squinted his eyes at the humanoid hanging her head and exited the lift. Terrans were illogical and irrational, but Trills were not supposed to be. Yet this woman's appearance nagged at him. He stopped and turned.

"May I have your name, miss?"

Dhani rubbed her temples and looked up at him from behind the vale of hair that covered her face, "Dhanishta Eshe. Lieutenant junior grade." She added, foreseeing that that would be his next question, "Engineer."

His eyes drew wide at her introduction.

"Lieutenant Eshe..." He strode forward and drew in close. He could smell the shampoos in her hair. It was rather pleasant, uncomfortably.

"Do you have any memories of a time you firmly believe you did not participate in?"

Dhanishta took a couple of steps back. His sudden questioning shocked and surprised her. She felt like she was suddenly in the spot light and she began to stutter.

Again she just wanted to bash her own head in. All these feelings were beginning to really tick her off!

"Something the matter, Lieutenant? Maybe you should have yourself taken to Sickbay." Curran had had just about enough. This Trill woman was completely incompetent. How do they get assigned to these ships of the fleet?

"There is a lot of things that's the matter." She snapped back "And if you don't mind I have some.. Walking to do!" she turned sharply her hair streaming behind her.

"If you are in the belief that I am going to," trying to think of the phrase used by humans so aptly, "chase after you like an infant canine, Lieutenant Eshe, you are sadly mistaken. But I will report this to the counselling offices to follow up on your behaviour. Have a good day."

Curran pivoted on one spit polished heel to locate the offices on the legend embedded in the wall. Spotting the location almost instantaneously, he proceeded to ignore the ranting woman to walk past her.

"Yeah, you do that." She shouted after him, "and don't worry bout me, I'll have a great day!" she turned back to the wall, the frustration and anger building inside her needed to be vented. Placing her hands against the wall she smacked her head against it. As her head bounced off the wall she let it rest. Feeling the pain shoot through her fore head like pins and needles.

Curran, in all his lack of caring for individual personalities, was at a crossroads. Cycling through various formulae and outcomes, he settled on the one most likely to succeed.

"You are a Starfleet Officer, Lieutenant! Act like one. So long as you make your habitation here on this ship, you are an officer at all times. Now, you can either report to Sickbay immediately, or you can accompany me to my offices to repair a refrigeration unit that I am having problems requisitioning an Engineer for of late. You have 30 seconds to make your choice."

Curran beamed his black eyes down the hawkish nose to glare at the whiny officer banging her head around. She is an officer and needs to set an example to all the crew under her. This ship was too damn loose for his liking.

"Incompetance Via Insomnia"

Lt. JG Dr. Klaus Fienberg
and
Dr. Janelle Reynolds, CMO

Dr. Fienberg walked into the office in a staggering tired motion. He was visibly exhausted....but sleep wouldn't come. He had managed to get in here without alerting Malgin to his state. "Excuse me? Dr. Reynolds?"

Dr. Reynolds was still trying to forget about the hell she went through. It all seemed so unreal. She was lost in thought when she heard her name called. When she looked up, she saw Feinberg, "If you want time off, forget it. If I have to work, so do you."

"It's more critical than that. I haven't slept in a week. Every attempt at sleeping has come to failure. It is now directly affecting my work."

"I apologise. I've been so wrapped up into myself that I didn't notice. In that case, take some time off." Reynolds went back to her thoughts but then noticed that he was still standing there, "Is there something else you need?" Klaus Was definitely relieved....but another point to be made. "I never thought of seeking help in my insomnia. I wish to begin testing tommorow. While I believe it may be a psychological problem, I wish to be sure."

"Look, we were both disturbed about what we saw...or didn't see and anyone would be unnerved if they did too. It is a no wonder why you are having troubles. Some of us handle things differently. Take me for instance, I bury myself in work. In that way, I don't think about it. Unfortunately, I have done all of my work here and now my mind seems to be back there again." She stands up, "So...since I have no more work to do, I'm going to go to the gym and work out. Why don't you try exercising or use the holodeck to get your mind off of everything?"

Klaus merely muttered "Coffee...." picked up a pad, and left.

Reynolds shook her head, "Coffee, there's his problem, too much caffeine. We really need to talk." Janelle was sorry she couldn't help him more but then again, she wasn't doing too good of a job helping herself.

"Tradition"

Maj Saladin Bolivar
NALDC Liason
Chief of Intelligance

Saladin went in to his office and sipped the rich blend of tea that he had favored. What he was going to do was to shake some things loose in his homeworld to bring an outworlder was heard of, but to marry one...

Formally, to bring her before the Matriarch for genetic testing and the rites of passage...

That was going to shock the world, but then again as his bride had taught him, sometimes shocks can be good.

He began to prepare the standard communications protocols to contact his homeworld.

Paranoia was part of Nietzchean upbringing, since they fled from Earth after the Eugenics wars. Untill the late 2200's revealing the location of the homeworld was punishable by death. He paused and spoke to the matriarch quietly.

The rituals had been established from the beginning. First you made contact, when the line was declared secure you told her of the woman you were to bring home then her lineage. But here was wher he broke tradition. "She has no lineage Matriarch... she is Chrysallian..."

Both eyebrows went up at that statement. "You wish to marry an offworlder?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"Because I love her." That got the woman to pause,

"Oh... a... human emotion."

"Yet we are human."

SHe frowned, "Very well bring your offworld bride, but be warned she will not earn my favor easily."

"She has earned mine..."

"It may not be enough..."

"THen I will choose her..."

"A Baby Rhino is loose? WTF??"

by
Butthead,
Ensign Jimmy Dorkos

Blinking his eyes, he moved slowly cautiously.

Grunt... Grunt... Snarl...

Tapping the edge of the long object with his horn, he let out an annoyed growl. Just as he did, a grey shape raced past his eyes and he felt something bap him in the buttocks.

Turning, he saw the grey shape bouncing a red ball on its nose before flicking it at him. Charging, he couldn't stop as the grey animal bounced over him.

Reaching the door, he careened out and disappeared.

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

Deep in the bowels of the ship, a particular area of the computer system was deeply running through a major series of logical errors that had developed and had been isolated.

When a series of chips blew, a sudden surge was routed into the holographic subsystems.

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

Inside one of the empty science labs, a series of lights appeared on one of the consoles. They started flashing in an unusual pattern.

Across the room, a particular machine that hadn't been on for quite a while activated and a small round pellet shape was spat out of it.

The pellet dropped a little before stopping and rising up to a metre in height.

From inside, a rainbow of light came out before it solidified into a big grey shape with a white horn.

Grunting, Butthead looked around the room. Finding himself in an unusual situation, he did what all baby rhinos do and panicked. Racing around, he started smashing sensitive equipment. Charging towards the door, he found that it opened and allowed him into the passageway.

Looking around, he decided on a direction and went onwards.

A door was open at the end of the passageway and he entered, sniffing.

It closed behind him and he grunted and snarled.

After about a minute, it opened up and Butthead raced forwards, knocking a startled crewman out of the way. Racing onwards, he came to some large doors and moved through when they opened.

Finding a large areas with tables and chairs and a couple of people, he raised his legs up and smashed them down into one of the tables.

People screamed and raced outwards. Outside in the corridor, Ensign Jimmy Dorkos tapped his combadge,

"Ensign Dorkos to Security.. Do you know why there is a rhino smashing Ten Forwards to pieces?"

OOC: Security... Have fun.. Blame Mr Quick for this one, and since its one of his 'presents', you can't just shut it down with a command LOL

OOC: Takes place before "A Baby Rhino is loose? WTF??" by Kelly

"Going Round In Circles??"

Lieutenant (jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer

Lieutenant (jg) Michael McDowell
Engineer

*** Saucer section, Deck 12 ***

Dhanishta's appointment with the counselor was in five minutes, and counting. As she walked down the corridor she sighed at the argument she was having with herself in her own head; she didn't want to talk with anyone. Yes, if she did, then she could be put back on active duty, if she missed the appointment, who knows? But she wasn't ready. She couldn't explain it to herself let alone someone else that she didn't know. And then that big ol' voice of logic and reason just *had* to pipe up. ~Remember your training Dhani? Calm yourself, don't give in to emotion they are your weaknesses.~ -But I have emotions, isn't it about time I listened to them, felt them?- ~After all that's happened, why let them rule you, they almost killed you!~..and the argument continued.

Nearing the counselors office she slowed down. Stopping outside she raised her hand to the chime, but there it stopped in mid air, just hovering over it. And that's how she stood for the next 5 minutes. The sound of footsteps down the hall made her turn and continue walking down the corridor, as if she had never stopped.

She walked down to the next intersection and stopped to give herself a serious talking to. After standing there muttering to herself she decided to give it another go. Turning she retraced her steps back to the counselors door but her feet didn't stop there, they just carried on going. ~Blast!~ she said to herself.

Inside her head was a battle ground, with logic and reason on one side, the devil and an angle on another and god only knows who else was in there. Head down she stormed through the halls of the galaxy, muttering. Flinging her hair out of her face she glanced up quickly; at the other end of the corridor was Michael McDowell. ~Aww, hell!~ she thought, ~NO. Just NO! This ain't gonna happen!~ she turned on her heal sharply and without losing momentum she walked to the nearest intersection and continued hoping that he hadn't seen her, and ignoring any shout if he had.

The sudden movement ahead of Michael made him look up from the PADD he was reading from. He was trying to get up to speed on all the reports from the different departments about the mysterious system failures that still kept popping up. It was obvious that the Quick virus was still lurking around. Michael began to regret that he'd taken upon himself to track it down and solve all problems that was causing it.

Michael realized that the person who'd just turned was in fact Dhanista. They hadn't spoken since the doctors had pulled her out of the claws of death. It was another unresolved issue that was bothering Michael. Even more so than the dreaded Quick virus. Although he hadn't seen Dhani for a while now since she was still recovering, it was no excuse for not having talked about what really had happened. But, then again, was it wise to talk about it now? Michael thought about it for some moment while still watching Dhani before him. In the end he decided it was best to let it wait for a while longer. He wasn't a Counselor, but he could imagine that it was still too early for bringing it up again.

Dhani continued to circle a few more corridors before finding her own and sinking into the nearest available chair. Boy she was beginning to hate life on the Galaxy! Maybe she should meditate some more, after all it seemed to be the only think that gave her any comfort or solace. ~humm, solace, ~ she thought, ~ Chany!~ After a few moments she located her beloved Cello, called Chang, and began to play. This was and always had been her emotional outlet. And as she played she lost herself to the music, became one with the melody, one with Chang.

*** some two hours later ***

Michael sighed as he closed the hatch of the Jefferies tube he'd been working in. Three subspace relays failures in one circuit! He had to replace all three. Normally it shouldn't be possible. This Quick virus was getting out of hand. Ah,...what was he talking about? It already had!

Another sigh could be heard as Michael got up and started to walk to the nearest turbolift with the intention to return to Main Engineering. He was about halfway when he changed his mind. The problems with Dhani kept nagging him. It was like an inner voice told him that he had to talk to her now and no longer postpone it. It drove him forth in the direction of Dhani's quarters, like he was on auto pilot. Without hesitation he pressed the chime.

Dhanishta didn't hear the chime, nor did she notice the door as it slid open, exposing her and her music to the 'world'.

Just like years ago when she had performed for friends and family and on many occasions at the academy, her mind reached out to the audience, looking for inspiration.

With out even noticing the change in tune, pace and rhythm, Dhanis unconscious mind picked up on Michael's unconscious; the cosmic mosaic that was him. His thoughts and feelings, now and before, his life's highs and lows, loves and losses; his 'life chords' and began to play them.

All that had been before, and all that was now, was mixed into a melody especially for him. So ferocious and enchanting, exciting and thrilling, passionate and angry; the complete emotional spectrum, such was his life.

Bit it didn't stop there. What unfolded was enough to make a Klingon cry, a Vulcan to laugh and a mute to shout. And for the grand finale the melody provided the answers that the unconscious mind asked for;

The situation at hand needed tender steps, comfort and understanding, a friendly hand, a bond. An outsiders perspective, a fresh look, a new angle and the underlying theme was one of hope and anticipation. Never give up hope, for one day.. One day she'll be yours again, just wait!

None of these could be pinpointed or named, to the ear it was just music, totally moving music, inspiring. But it soothed the tattered sole, lifted the depression and answered the questions that only the cosmos could hear.

Dhanishtas hand finally came to a stop, the tip of her bow resting on the floor, her left hand fell from the neck of the cello and came to rest on the side to the chair she was perched on. Beads of sweat rolled down from her forehead, her chest cavity was expanding and contracting at a phenomenal rate, her heart thundering like a horse in a canter. She felt as if she had just finished a marathon.

Michael just stood there, still in a kind of hypnotic state, touched to the core with the music that Dhani had just played. He wondered why it moved him so much, and why he felt so calm and peaceful at this moment. Seeing the state Dhani was in pulled him back to the here and now.

"Oh, I...uh, I'm sorry, but the door..." Michael briefly waved in the direction of the door.

Dhani looked up, she hadn't the energy to be startled.

"Are you alright? You look like someone who just had a major workout." Michael walked over to Dhani and sat besides her on the couch. "You're not sick, are you?" He asked, now more concerned.

She shook her head and stood up. Her arms and legs ached and she groaned slightly in protest. She lay down the cello and bow and wandered to the replicator. "Water" she mumbled.

Her throat was dry and she was slightly dehydrated from the major playing session. Her head felt a little fussy and her hands trembled just a little. Her stomach began to whirl like an old fashioned washing machine. Downing as much of the water as she could she walked over to her bathroom. She knew what was to follow. It had happened on many occasions, though at least then she was prepared for it. After a few moments she emerged from the bathroom like nothing had happened and walked briskly to the replicator. She had to get something quickly to get the god dammed awful taste of puke out of her mouth, "Oh," she croaked out over the glass, "can I get you something?"

"No, thank you." Michael said. He wasn't here just for a social call. Well, that too - she was one of his Team after all. He found out long ago that showing a real interest in the people that worked in your shift was an important aspect of being Duty Shift Officer. The same 'rule' should be true for Department Heads, XO's, and Captains.

Michael followed Dhani as she walked over to her chair again and sat down. "I hear you're still not doing well. The sounds that came from the bathroom... How bad is it? You're still taking your medicine, are you? And please Dhani, be honest this time, alright?"

"I'm fine, Michael. And the throwing up thing has nothing to do with anything." She replied.

For a few moments Michael pondered Dhani's answer. A surprised frown appeared on his face. "Now, why do I get the impression that that isn't the whole story."

"Look, Michael," Dhani said a little more irritated than she'd intended, "What do you want to hear?"

The response was not what Michael had expected. He still wasn't used to hear her talk like this, though she'd done it one time before...on the day she'd died in his arms. "Just the truth, that's all." he answered while trying to look unaffected.

"About what? What is it that you want to know?" she asked in a slightly softer tone.

A sigh. "About everything. For a start, I don't even know how you're doing. I've come by your quarters a few times before and you weren't there, and this day you avoided me on purpose." Looking straight into Dhani's eyes Michael tried to show how serious he was. "Hey, I can get the info via other channels, but I want to hear it from you."

"I'm doing just fine. Really." She replied looking away. "I'm frustrated at not being on duty, but it's my own fault." She sighed. "Does that answer your question? I'm gonna be okay!"

~Finally, now we're getting somewhere.~ Michael thought. "Well, I can understand you're frustration. I've been suspended from duty once, so I know a bit how it feels. But on the other side, even I can see that you're still not fit enough to go back to duty yet."

"Humm" she mumbled, neither agreeing or disagreeing.

"I know it's not the news you want to hear, but that's how it is and I can't change that. It's up to the Doctors, Counselors,...and you." Michael hoped that Dhani understood the importance of her part in the whole healing process.

"I just want to forget about the whole thing." She said trying to fight the images that popped into her head. "I don't want talk about what happened or how it felt," the last word seemed to stick in her throat. She wasn't used to feeling things, at least not how everyone else did. She had be trained not to, trained to block them out to use logic not emotions.

Michael felt tempted to play the Counselor here, telling Dru that ignoring her feeling and thoughts about what happened to her won't help and could even make things worse. But, obviously, Counseling someone was not something you could do just like that and he would be making a grave mistake when trying it. Besides, in a way it would be hypocritical for Michael to tell her that ignoring what's happened isn't the way to go. Just for a fleeting moment he thought about Karyn and what they had years ago.

How to go from here? Michael hadn't a clue. He couldn't help Dhani as much as he liked to and seeing her in this state of despair was painful. "Dhani,...if you don't want to talk about it, then alright, I'll go. But you must know that I'll be there for you. If you want to talk, just give me a sign and I'll listen."

Dhani watched as Michael left and then turned her focus to her cat, Salem, who was rubbing up against her leg. Bending down she picked up the fur ball and held him close stroking his soft black fur and tickling his ears. "And what prey tell do you want?" she asked the cat, who responded by licking her neck, "Your hungry hu? Why does that surprise me?"

Walking over to the replicator she went over the disjointed conversation with Michael in her head and sighed loudly as she placed Salem's food on the floor.

Turning her back to Salem she left her quarters, looking down the corridor she saw Michael turning the corner, "Hey! Michael!" she shouted, running down the corridor towards him.

Michael stopped and turned around. It sounded like Dhanishta had changed her mind, which was kind of surprising considering he left her quarters only some moments ago. "Yes?"

"Hey," she said slightly breathlessly, as she caught up to him, "when you finished work, you fancy getting something to eat?" she looked up at him gingerly and half smiled.

Dhani kept surprising him. One moment she appeared to be in a distressed state, the next the complete opposite seemed true. But her idea made Michael smile. It sounded good and maybe it would even give him the chance to get her finally talk about what had happened to her. "Of course. Just tell me when and where."

"Just call me when you get off work!" she smiled again and turned to leave.

"Yes, I'll do..." Michael said but stopped mid-sentence seeing that Dhanishta already was on her way, then finished the reply inwardly. "...that." He turned again and headed towards the turbolift end the end of the corridor. ~She's strange. I'll never figure her out.~

"A Good Death"

Primary Characters:
Lieutenant Victor Kreighoff,
Security

Lieutenant JG Corran Rex,
Vanguard One

---------------- USS Galaxy Deck 38 Main Armory ----------------

The Trill leader of Vanguard Squadron sighed in disgust as he returned the phaser into the armory. Lieutenant Astrid Salt raised an eyebrow as he plopped the type-II phaser down on the counter. "Didn't score too well, did you, Lieutenant Rex?"

Corran merely stared at her a moment before replying. "No, Astrid, I didn't. Quite frankly, I sucked. I've never been good with small arms. I need bigger targets - like Breen cruisers, or starfighters."

"Guess that's what the phrase "Couldn't hit the broad sign of a barn." means, then." the blonde replied impishly. "Maybe you should talk to D'Tinya - she helps people out with marksmanship training so they can pass their performance reviews."

"Funny." was the acidic reply. "As it happens, I *can* hit the broad side of a barn. I'm just not so good with the narrow sides, with a little gun." No need to tell Astrid that he'd already seen and had Ahdjiia's help.

~Oh, so many replies to that, so little time.~ came the voice of you-know-who.

~Gods. Shut up already, Vorrin.~

~No way, kid. It'd make your life way too damn dull if you didn't......~ the old smuggler's voice said, before trailing off.

Corran, of course, frowned. ~Vorrin?~

~It can't be. ~ Vorrin replied, and Corran found himself summarily exiled back to the back reaches of his own consciousness as Vorrin took over the Trill's body. He rushed across the armory as though he was on fire. "Krieghoff! Hey - Kreighoff! Bernhard!"

---------------- USS Galaxy Deck 38 Outside Security Main ----------------

Victor frowned down at the PADD in his hand, pretending to ignore the two ratings that flattened against the wall as he passed them. ~ This schedule is never going to work. I might be able to keep it up - for a while anyway - but it'll kill some of the others. It doesn't matter if no one likes me, or if they're scared of me personally, but the Commander is going to have to find a way to get some more bodies on my shift or the few people that *can* work with me are going to find themselves laid up from exhaustion. ~ He started around the corner and looked up as he heard his name called out from behind the Armory doors. ~What? someone's calling... Bernhard? He turned back towards them as they started to open. "~ Who's looking for my uncle? ~

Vorrin/Corran started to place his hand on Kreighoff's shoulder, but, remembering the other man's.... antipathy for personal contact with smugglers in general, and himself in particular, he refrained. "Bernhard Kreighoff, how the nine hells did you get on this ship without me knowing about it?"

Victor frowned. The Trill talking to him was Lt. Corran Rex, and his memory supplied the details that the man had transferred to command of the fighter squadron a few weeks back. What it didn't tell him was why he thought Victor was his uncle. "I'm not Bernhard," he said carefully. "He was my uncle."

Vorrin laughed a moment, his voice sounding ever-so-different from Corran's normal one. Slightly deeper, slightly more harsh.... like a voice from a life spent smoking illegal tobacco products.. "I thought you'd aged far too well. Sorry, kid. You say Bernhard was your uncle?"

Victor nodded. "Yes." He hesitated a moment, a glimmer of understanding as to what was happening coming to him.

"I'm Vorrin, Vorrin Rex." he paused, then laughed again - loudly. "Technically I'm Corran Rex. Kid's not using the body right now, though. I figured I wanted a turn to drive. I knew your uncle real well, Kid. Come with me to ten-forward. I need a drink, and I'll tell you all about it."

"I can't, sir; I'm on duty."

"Ah, can it, Kid. Come on. Let's go. How often do you get to hear dirt on your family, anyways." the old smuggler in a young pilot's body replied.

~ Every time I talk to Ar'resh or Rexa. ~ "I can't, sir," he repeated. "I'm on duty right now." He paused. ~ Maybe... maybe he knows something Rexa and Ar'resh don't? A story they'd like? Some memory they've forgotten? I owe them that.... ~ He looked at the PADD in his hand, thought about the things he'd intended to say to Commander Corgan - and decided. "But I can be free in a few minutes - if you can wait?"

"Well....yeah." Rex replied. "Yeah, that's okay. I'll wait. Hey - you wouldn't happen to have a smoke, would ya?"

"No." Victor, unlike many of the crew aboard, at least knew what the term meant.

"Ahhh... Starfleet types." came the derisive snort. "Way too uptight for your own good. Nobody ever dies of cancer. A twelve year old could cure it."

"That's not why I don't smoke," Victor answered calmly. "I don't do it because too many things will smell me coming if I do."

The Trill just rolled his eyes. "Ah, go do your thing, Kid. I'll be here waitin."

Victor nodded wordlessly and turned back towards the entrance to Security Main. His fingers danced on the PADD as he finished the walk there, entering recommendations and a request for a meeting with Corgan. He nodded to the duty officer, dropped the PADD in the Commander's Inbox and turned to exit the room wordlessly, the door closing behind him before anyone had time to do more than look up.

As he approached Vorrin/Corran, Victor noted the exact point at which the Trill's reaction made it clear he'd become aware of his presence - a distance of almost four meters, close to twice the distance that the average individual registered him at. "Ready?" he asked as he walked up a moment later.

Rex was sitting in a corner bench, feet propped up length-ways, hands folded behind his head. Vorrin was certainly enjoying his "turn at the wheel", so to speak. It was nice to be a body again, rather than just a floating voice in someone's head and a collection of memories. "That was quick enough," he noted, finding it curious that he could well..... feel young Victor's presence, the same way he had been able to feel old Bernhard's. That niggling little sixth sense had kept him out of penal colonies more times than the old smuggler cared to admit.

Victor shrugged, "No one stopped me to talk. They never do."

"Well, someone has now. Let's head down to - what do you call it? Ten Forward? and get me that drink. Then you'll get your story."

Victor nodded and followed Vorrin to the turbolift, wondering what he would ask, and whether this was a good idea.

Most of the walk and 'lift ride to the ship's most happenin' spot was relatively quiet. If people were surprised to see Victor Kreighoff walking with anyone, let alone the somewhat odd leader of the Galaxy's starfighter compliment, they were finding it remarkable well. Vorrin, of course, made it a priority to wink suggestively at every attractive female they walked near.

He didn't get a whole lot of appreciative looks in return. Ah well - what did the humans say? C'est la vie? He'd been better looking than Corran was, of course. But then, that was one of the hazards of being dead.

Victor looked up at the bartender as they entered and nodded towards the corner table he normally used. The attractive redhead frowned, but nodded back in agreement as the two made their way there. The few people seated in the arc of tables that had become known as the 'Krieghoff Neutral Zone' to O'Rourke's coffee klatch crew cleared out and moved as Victor sat down.

As they took their seats in the not-to-crowded lounge, Rex noted how others looked at Kreighoff. It seemed to almost be an instinctual reaction - what a heavy the Kid would have made in any Crew! After a moment's flirtation between Vorrin and the waitress, the dead Trill contemplated the syntheholic beverage in front of him, a fine Trill brandy. "So, Kid, anything in particular you want to know?"

Victor looked at him for a moment. "Why did you think I was my Uncle Bernhard?"

Vorrin took his first appreciative swig of the brandy, and an ear-to-ear smile lit up his face as the heat slid down his throat. "Ahhh.. I've missed that. Living vicariously through Corran just isn't the same." he said to himself, then stared Victor straight in the eyes. "It's the eyes, Kid. You look a little bit like him at your age - enough to confuse an old man - but mainly, it's those eyes."

Victor pondered that for a moment. ~ I never thought I had eyes anything like Bernhard's... Maybe I should ask Rexa or Ar'resh; - no, no that might be a bad idea. ~

"I'm willing to bet you have some of the same problems too, don't you?" the Trill asked, finishing his drink and signaling to the waitress for another.

"Which problems would those be?" Victor recalled his uncle making people nervous, but not to the degree he himself did. Was that what the Trill meant? Or was there something else?

"People don't stay around you much, do they? If you're on starship duty, I bet you tend to move around a lot. Folks just a tad uncomfortable around you?" Vorrin asked, still looking Victor right in those strange eyes. After years of successful escapes from the kid's uncle, those dead eyes didn't much work on him anymore.

"Yes." Victor sipped at the plain black coffee in front of him. "I'll be transferred off the Galaxy soon," he added in the flat, emotionless voice he'd reverted to. "The Captain just hasn't found someone that will take me yet."

A snort of laughter quickly escaped the Trill, and he took another bracing pull of his drink. "Victor, m'boy - anyone ever tell you you're a little on the depressing side?"

"Yes." Victor frowned and pushed away the image of Ella's face that swam up from the darkness of his thoughts and glared at him in anger and hurt. "Not as much recently though." He took another sip of the bitter coffee. So how did you know my Uncle? Did you serve with him?"

The Trill blinked, and then did something the security officer wasn't really expecting. He laughed - loud, long, and hard. By the time he finished, Vorrin was clutching at his (Corran's) sides, making a sincere effort just to breathe normally again. After a minute or two (or five) he stopped, and replied. "Served with him? Kid, that is the funniest damned thing I've heard in a long, long time. That's just fuckin' priceless."

Victor simply looked at him with unreadable eyes and waited for the Trill to tell him why.

Vorrin finished his second drink, and then looked back at Kreighoff. "For your uncle, I was ... the one that got away. I was a smuggler, kid, and I was a damned good one. Your uncle and I crossed paths dozens of times over the years, 'till he gave up security work to be a button-pressing tactical officer. He never could catch me. The few times he did.. well, he couldn't prove anything, so it all amounted to the same thing."

Bernhard had never mentioned Vorrin to Victor, but then Victor had never mentioned any of the people that he'd caught or killed to Bernhard before his death in the War. "I see." He glanced at his coffee, and decided that there was enough to throw in the Trill's face if this turned out to be about some old grudge. He didn't want to kill another officer over something they'd done in another life, and that should give him the time to stun Rex.

"I expect you think I'd hate you for that - for being a relative of someone who was my enemy? I don't, kid. Bernhard and I both knew the game for what it was - it was a game. It's always a game. Through the occasional combinations of finesse, style, skill - but generally just dumb fuckin' luck - I was better at the game than he was. And there weren't a whole lot of people who could say that." Vorrin replied, a faraway look growing in his eyes as he recounted those times. "Those were good days." he finished, in a quiet and oddly subdued voice.

Victor didn't understand what the Trill was saying, but that was all right, he knew that he didn't think like normal people. "So you were... adversaries. Enemies."

"Nah - see, we respected each other. It was that whole... "worthy opponent" thing. A really weird sort of friend. Know what I mean?" the old smuggler-in-Starfleet-clothing shot back.

Not really, no, Victor reflected, but there was no point in telling Vorrin that. "I know how being both the hunted and the hunter can make you feel alive."

"Now you're gettin it. A bit more morbidly than I'd have though, but you're gettin it." he replied. "Always kind of felt bad for old Kreighoff, though. Seemed like the only time he came alive was when we were at odds. Till he met those two Andorian gals. What were their names again?" Vorrin trailed off, lost in the recess of memory.

"Rexa and Ar'resh Idrani," Victor supplied. "My aunts."

"He stayed with 'em? No kiddin. Good for him."

"He fought it, but after they met him he didn't have a chance. They married him less than a year after they met, and that was only because he spent four months of that on assignment off-ship."

"Well.. good for him." Corran replied. "Good for him. He deserved a happy ending. He's living it up in retirement now, I imagine...."

"He and Uncle Thalik, their other husband, were both killed in the same battle during the War," Victor continued in a voice scrubbed clean of emotional context. "Their ship had a core breach after a Dominion polaron beam sliced through Engineering early in the war before they figured out the shield phasing issue."

At this news, Vorrin (Corran)'s face fell. There were several long, quiet moments. "I should have expected that, really. He deserved to live a long and happy and ridiculously erotic life with those Andorian gals. But if he couldn't go out that way, fighting for what you believe in is a pretty good death," he finally said, and raised his latest glass in tribute. "To a good death."

"Death," Victor agreed, lifting his coffee. He doubted Death would mind that he'd used coffee instead of something alcoholic. They'd known each other all Victor's life, after all.

The Trill's shoulders sagged then, and his head slumped down onto the table. The sound drew several sharp turns of the head from other patrons.

Victor looked back at them and there was a sudden shift as the people watching all found other parts of the room - any other part - more interesting. ~ Nothing to see here. No blood, no dismemberments. ~

Corran slowly raised his head from the table. "I have... such... a headache." he replied, wiping his hands on his face, and then looking up at Kreighoff. "Lieutenant... I... apologize if my past host offended you in any way."

Victor shook his head. "No need. He knew my uncle, that's all." He set his now empty coffee mug down on the table. "I think I was the one that offended him."

"No... no you didn't, Lieutenant." Corran replied, still holding his head. "He was... genuinely glad to talk to you. Vorrin very much enjoyed the relationship he had with your uncle. I think he just... didn't know how to deal with the news that someone he respected that much was dead, and he didn't know about it."

Victor caught the bartender;s eye and pointed to Rex, the slim redhead nodded before he turned back. "No reason he'd know. It's a big galaxy and he was in a very small part of it when Bernhard was killed." A glass of water and a painkiller was delivered to the table. "Take it," Victor nodded. "Otherwise I'll call sickbay - and this is Dr. Malgin's shift."

"I'll take it - I'll take it." Corran replied quickly. "This ship really does have the best proof against malingerers. Insane doctors." the Trill replied, and popped the painkiller down with the water.

Victor shrugged. "As long as they're good at their jobs it doesn't matter."

"It's strange. The last few times my symbiont's past hosts have...emerged, my head's been utter chaos for a few minutes. And it's hardly ever that long, either. But after talking to you - or, after Vorrin talked to you, I should say - I feel... better. More centered. Less... scattered. " Rex stated after a moment to gather his thoughts. "Though my head still feels like a Klingon's scrubbing my inner ear with a pain stick."

"No it doesn't." Victor's response was flat and sure. "You can still talk." He picked up his coffee and finished it off. "Would he... Vorrin.... like to talk to my aunts? They might like to talk to someone that knew Bernhard. I can screen them and see."

"He'd like that, I think. And... if it would help my situation, I think I'd like that very much as well." the pilot replied after a few moment's consideration. "Can I ask you something?" Corran asked, visibly relaxing as the fast-acting painkiller kicked in.

"Yes."

"Well - what do you prefer to be called? It's going to be a little awkward if I have to keep calling a friend 'Lieutenant' all the time. Especially if you're ever around my Squadron. There's Lieutenants all over the place down there. I'd get eleven different answers if I just called that out."

Victor blinked and frowned. "Call me what you want." He kept the frown, and after a few seconds added, "Why?"

"Well, a name's usually better than profanities." was the quick reply, delivered with an easy smile. "Well, it depends on the company, I guess."

"No. Why would you want to be my friend?"

Corran shrugged. "Why not?" the Trill replied. "You look like a man who could use a friend, and someone as certifiable as me usually needs as many friends as he can get. If this is going to be my last life, I want it to be interesting."

"Coffee. Black. Strong."

Lt. JG Dr. Klaus Fienberg,
MD

Lt. JG Corran Rex,
Vanguard One

Location: The Front Tip of 10 forward.

"Coffee. Black. Strong."

[" There are currently 4,347 varieties of coffee in the replicator database.Please specify your selection further."]

"Oh.....Columbian....I do not care." A very visibly tired, strained and angry Dr. Fienberg picked up the coffee mug that the replicator zapped up and hurried to a table as far front in 10 forward as possible without sitting anywhere that wasn't at a table.

In his other hand he held a PADD, at the moment it was blank....turned off as to not reveal his little......problem to anyone. Once seated he hit a button and it lit up. Feinberg began to read intently with his dry, tired eyes.

Corran Rex walked into Ten Forward, not surprised to find it nearly completely deserted at 0330 in the morning. All intelligent beings were asleep at this time. Those that weren't were on duty, with a shift change not for several hours yet. He ordered coffee from the replicator, and decided to join what was the room's apparently sole occupant - Doctor Klaus Feinberg. He didn't think he'd met the strange Doctor before, but he'd heard of him. Of course, a starship with a thousand people is like a small village - everyone's heard of everybody, most know them, and then spend a great deal of time gossiping.

"Bad dreams, Doctor?" the Trill asked, motioning towards the seat in a manner that suggested he'd like to join him.

In an almost dismissive manner, Klaus replied."No dreams. Complete and utter LACK of sleep." Dr. Fienberg was far different from the man who had come aboard this ship over a year ago. He began to utter strange things under his breath. "No sleep.....sleep....none.....why..."

Corran sipped his coffee, and merely raised an eyebrow.

Klaus smacked himself and took a large gulp of the scalding coffee. "If you're wondering, it doesn't hurt anymore." He looked up at the Trill. "Do you think I'm incompetent? Crazy?"

"Well," Rex replied honestly, "I think you're strange. I don't know you well enough to judge the other two. I would, though, recommend that you switch to decaf."

Klaus scratched his chest where his commbadge should be. "I think I am. That's the only reason I requested emergency medical leave."

"Crazy, you mean? Well, I know a little something about that." the Trill replied with a small half smile.

"Coffee has been the only thing that has kept me alert enough to function as a normal human being." He started to scratch his necks, sorta like a man addicted to crack. It only lasted a short time. "If I don't drink it, I fall into a depression. And almost suicidal state...but either way I can't sleep."

Every bit of his speech so far had seemed almost......accelerated due to the high caffeine ingestion.

"Have you tried sedatives, to get some rest?" Corran asked, beginning to get concerned. "If I recall correctly, humanoid brains begin to generate LSD if they've gone without REM sleep for too long."

"Hell, I'm a doctor, I know this. And no, sedatives have not worked."

"Maybe the problem is psychological, then."

He had a spoon and started to stir the coffee idly. "I believe mind over matter is the problem. I'll go see Kommandant Dallas tomorrow....after I lie in my bed for 8 hours staring at the ceiling." He continued to ignore the obvious problem......he scoffed at it.

They sat in silence for several more minutes, as Corran finished his own cup of coffee. Truth to tell, he didn't really have much advice to give the strange Doctor. He'd have to remember to follow up on the matter with Doctor Reynolds, of course. Feinberg looked simply horrible."Well.. some of us do need to try to get some sleep tonight." he said. "See someone else in medical about this tomorrow, Doctor Feinberg. You're no good to anyone if you're a hallucinating, gibbering mass."

Klaus merely grunted as the Trill turned and left. Corran wasn't exactly sure whether or not the human even heard him.

"Little Boy Blue"

Lieutenant JG Corran Rex,
Vanguard One

Ensign Tyten,
Vanguard Five

------------------- Deck 37 Vanguard Squadron & Vanguard Division Offices --------------------

After overseeing the morning's flight simulator runs, Corran returned to his office to get some more administrative details done. No one had told him commanding a fighter squadron would involve so much paddwork. Perhaps he should see about getting a yeoman. He noticed on his scheduler that Ensign Tyten was supposed to be reporting in any time now. Deciding to get the latest interview over with, he tapped his commbage. "Lieutenant Rex to Ensign Tyten. Have you transferred over from the Hood yet?"

Tyten had just finished tossing his belongings on his bed. It was strange having quarters of his own. The Hood had been tight quarters and he had been forced to sleep on a bunk. He had no sooner started unpacking when Lieutenant Rex's voice sounded over the comm. Tyten tapped his communicator, "Yes, sir. I just finished stowing my gear in my quarters."

"Allright. Report to my office as soon as you've unpacked. It's on Deck 37, right by Shuttlebay Four." the Trill replied, unaware that he was unconsciously facing the ceiling as he talked to the new Bolian pilot.

"Aye, sir, I'm on my way. "

He could finish putting his stuff away later. For the moment, he was more excited/nervous about meeting his new commanding officer. He always liked to make a good impression on the first day. Moments later, he found himself standing outside the Lieutenant's office on deck 37. Standing at attention, he pressed the door chime.

"Enter." Corran called out, though when the Bolian came in, Rex was nowhere to be seen. There was a thump, and a cruse from under the desk, and Rex stood up. "Sorry about that. Dropped a stylus down there and it got stuck near the leg." he replied, holding out a hand. Bolians were supposed to be a very genial race, so this would be considered an appropriate welcome for a new officer. "Ensign Tyten?"

Grasping Corran's hand firmly in a handshake. "Ensign Tyten, reporting for duty, sir!" he said with a wide grin in his face. It was hard for him to hide his excitement of this assignment, even if his large smile was a bit inappropriate.

Corran had to laugh at that. "I can see I won't have to encourage you to relax, Ensign. Please, have a seat." the Trill said, and sat down at his own desk, tugging on the jacket of the flightsuit he always wore on duty. It was so much more comfortable and functional than the standard duty Fleet uniforms.

Doing as Corran had offered, Tyten sat at the chair in front of Corran's desk. "I apologize for my breach of protocol, sir. I'm just very excited to have this posting."

"Don't worry about it, Tyten. I'm not much for protocol unless it has a real purpose."

"Understood, sir. " he said as he smiled again. "If I may ask, what is our duty schedule like? I've been itching to get this beautiful blue skin in a cockpit ever since the transfer orders came in."

Corran smiled - the Bolian's grins were infections. He'd probably be a great boost to the Unit's morale. "We've got standard duty on Alpha Shift. We are, naturally, on call twenty-six hours a day. When possible, we'll take our fighters out just to keep in practice. Much of our on-duty time will be taken up by flight simulators and maintenance on our birds. Several of Vanguard's pilots - myself included - have a preference for being the only mechanics to touch their fighters, so I've worked that into the duty schedule."

"Excellent. There's nothing like the relationship between a pilot and his fighter, sir. Kind of like the warriors and their horses of ancient Earth. You treat her right and she will always bring you home," he paused. It was one thing to be excited, now he was just running his mouth. "I'm sorry, sir, I tend to get a little carried away at times. I'm very passionate about my flying."

"That's not a bad thing, Ensign." Rex replied. "So do you have a callsign already?"

"Blue, sir," he said with a grin letting Corran know that the irony of the call sign was not lost on him.

Corran rolled his eyes. "That's almost as bad as Spots - which, of course, is mine."

He laughed slightly. "Well, no one said pilots were known for their greatness in scholarly names."

"Damn straight." was the reply.

Corran seemed like a good man. In his life, he had always found the Trill people to be good and honorable people. Their lifetimes of experience were invaluable on many levels. Now, sitting here in this office, it seemed as if the dreams he had had growing up were about to come true. This was the ship. "Sir, if I may ask, when do I get to 'meet' my fighter?"

"Soon as you want." the Trill said back. "Now good?"

"Now, would be perfect, sir," Tyten replied forcing himself to hide his excitement. This had always been his favorite part. The first time glancing at a new fighter was like meeting a beautiful woman for the first time in a lot of ways. There was always that initial reaction as the butterflies passed through your stomach followed by love at first sight. Well, kind of.

"Well, what are we doing sitting around here, then?"

"Top Gun"

Ensign Jasmine Heloi,
Vanguard 6

-and-

Ensign Tyten,
Vanguard 5

Jasmine settled herself into the slightly uncomfortable seat of the simulated fighter. She knew the reason for the discomfort was to avoid relaxation as that could easily get one killed in the unforgiving environment of space. But, it still didn't mean she did not notice it. 'Jazz' brushed back a strand of hair as she began her pre-flight checks. Currently, the simulated environment outside the 'fighter' was the shuttlebay. Here was where instant safety and 'refueling' occurred during a fight just like the video games her friends engaged in back on Betazed. Only this meant far more to her than those cheap games. "Vanguard Six to Vanguard 5, this is your wingman here. Are you about ready to boogie?" 'Boogie?' she repeated to herself mentally. She had hung around Della far too long during her years on 'Starfire.' That was a Della word. "Vangard 6, this is Vangard 5, I am indeed ready to 'boogie'. Firing engines now."

He smiled as a rush ran through his body at the sound of the engines coming to life. "Control, this is Vanguard 5 requesting permission launch." "Vanguard 5 this is Control, permission granted." "Thank you control. 6, you ready for the ride of your life?" "I'm always ready, 5," Jasmine grinned ferally as she fired up her own engines. The thrum was one that she could feel in her bones - and her engineer's soul soared at the thought that this machine was under her control. She switched to the tight beam communication between her ship and her wingman's, "Let's show these people how to fly."

The sterile surroundings of the shuttlebay gave way to the cold emptiness of space. Tyten quickly accelerated away and into formation. "Ok, 6, what's on the schedule for today?"

"Obstacle course. Speed, accuracy of hitting targets, and avoiding obstacles is the goal," Heloi replied as she followed her wingman with ease. She really liked this class of fighter, she decided. They were definitely 'smooth.'

"Copy. Proceeding to the first set of markers. Accelerate to three-quarters impulse."

The fighters raced towards the markers. "Banking hard left." As the fighters flew through the markers, they lit up. A ping sounded in Tyten's cockpit letting him know that he had successfully navigated through them.

"Good piloting there, Blue," Jasmine said as she stuck tight to his wing. The upcoming obstacles were for target practice. As an added difficulty, not only were these targets moving but there were additional targets that peppered space with bolts of phaser energy. "I'll plow the road. The idea here is for teammates to get the targets. If you want to hit those targets, I'll take care of our little fireballs."

"Roger that, I'll follow your lead." The former starlet's eyes gleamed dangerously as she pressed the acceleration on her fighter. The key in this instance was both speed and finess. Her targets were attracted to movement like gravity bombs. If she could activate them and have them chase after her that'd give her wingman the chance to hit the moving targets. She banked the ship and dodged a few shots as she pressed the firing button next to her joystick. Her first target exploded in a blaze. Now she just had to take care of five more...

Tyten was impressed. She was good. He followed her lead and accelerated. Pulling himself into a tight barrel roll to show off, squeezed off two shots which found their way to their intended targets. "Hoo Rah!" he shouted with excitement.

There was one trick she wanted to do with the fighter that she hoped it could handle. With two of the fireballs chasing her tail she carefully deformed the tight shields on her fighter. The deformation served the dual purpose of changing her dynamics and tipping the fighter upwards. Though space had no air resistance, it did have enough particles in it to require the addition of navigation shields to any vessel. The deformation changed the impact patterns of the space born particles which in turn changed her inertial movement. 'Jazz, you're such an engineer,' she thought to herself with a slow smile. Her fighter began to tip upwards - a position that most speeding craft tend to avoid. A careful addition of thrust sent her fighter skyrocketing upwards in a calculated move. While the fireballs were attempting to figure out just where she went, she performed a quick loop to bring her directly behind them. Two shots and they were history. "Ye HAW!" she let out the rebel yell with manic glee. This was too much fun. There aught to be a law against this much fun...but she didn't particularly care.

"Nice shootin' Tex," Tyten threw out jokingly over the comm. "Jazz, I'm going to finish up my final three here and now."

He pulled the controls hard to starboard and threw in a kick from his thrusters to swing the back end of the fighter around. Punching the accelerator, he sped to his intended targets. To his surprise, the targets changed direction and now were on a direct course for his fighter. He barrel rolled again, this time, because he had to as several threatening blasts shot past his fighters hull, just missing their mark. He unleashed a barrage of fire himself and managed to destroy one target in the process. The other two streaked pass his fighter, the distance between them and him to small for them to react.

As they flew past, Tyten cut his engines and fired his aft starboard and his stern port thrusters. The inertia of the maneuver swung him around an into excellent firing position. He rattled off two more blasts and made short work of the unsuspecting target drones.

"Good job, Blue!" Jasmine crowed as she spun her craft in the traditional 'victory roll.' "We'll have the others envious yet."

He laughed. "They only wish they could match these skills," he said as he flashed his famous smile. "What say you and I grab a bite to eat after all this? All this flying makes me hungry."

"You bet they do," Jasmine chuckled, "Let's wrap this up and get some food. A hamburger is starting to sound really good right now." With those words, she adjusted her course to take her back to the simulated hanger bay. The obstacle course was completed for the day and their scores were displayed on their control panels in bright crimson.

Tyten looked at his score as his cockpit canopy opened. "Dang, those things always lie. I obviously did way better than that. What would a computer know about style anyway?"

"So," he said to the beautiful pilot he had just been battling the meanines with, "Where does one get a good burger on this ship?"

Heloi nodded in agreement, as she climbed out of the cockpit, "No kidding. As for where to get a burger around here....hopefully the lounge'll have something that'd pass for a good burger." Heloi flashed her wingman one of her thousand-watt smiles and gestured towards the door.

OOC: Hey, Galaxy! This is my *breakout* post for T'Shani. Feel free to hit me up for a JP! Much thanks to Jonathan Galuszka (Ramir Omar)! Enjoy!...MJM

"Enemy Within"

Introducing Marine First Lieutenant T'Shani Ardorannan A'Akledorian

By
1st LT A'Akledorian
and
Ambassador Omar

----------

=^= U.S.S. Hood, NCC 42296, Excelsior class =^=

"Is everthing here?"

"Yes, Ma'am. And the rest of your things are being transferred to the Galaxy by our quartermaster." The young crewman replied.

"Good. Energize."

A pillar of blue-white energy sparkled on the transporter pad, then dissolved away.

"Wonderful muscles," one of the creman mentioned back to the transporter cheif.

"Yeah, but she'd kill you before you even got close," the chief joked back. "I hear she's a Grandmaster, and all..."

The crewman's eyes got wide as saucers, "G-Grandmaster? I didn't know there were any of those left, except for the Arena Fighters."

"She's one of the last. And those 'fighters'? They're all fake anyway. No, Lad...she's the real-deal..." the cheif responded, chuckling at the crewman's obvious discomfort.

=^= U.S.S. Galaxy, NCC 70637-A, Galaxy II class: Deck 6, Transporter Room 3 =^=

~Mmmmmm~

She always loved the cool tingly feeling of the transporter beam. Other's--especially humans--didn't like the feeling. But to her....it just felt good.

She opened her eyes and looked around. "Transport complete. Ma'am, if you'll step off the pad please. Yoeman Burke will show you to your quarters." said the transporter cheif.

She stretched her antennae, and *looked* around. "Very well, Master Chief," she said coolly, eyeing the stars and bars on his pip. Gracefully decending the platform, "But I can find my way by myself," she said, looking at Burke, her antennae leaning forward slightly. She noticed the Yoeman staring at the ring over her right antenna. Quickly, he looked away.

She sighed and picked up the shoulder-carrier and the large, padded sack.

"Thank you Chief," she said, dipping her antennae in a gesture of thanks.

"No problem, Ma'am," the Cheif responded, already setting the transporter for it's next cycle.

T'Shani walked out of the double-doors from the transporter room. ~Galaxy class~ she thought....~No...Galaxy *II* class, to be precise~ Good. She was familiar with the layout, having served aboard the Sutherland which was a Nebula class; a sister-design of the larger Galaxy's.

Her quarters were down on Deck Nine, in Section Four. She would have preferred to be closer to the main hanger on Deck Four, but such was the luck of the draw. At least, with a Galaxy class, she was assured that even her single-occupant quarters would be quite spacious. A welcome improvement over the cramped bunks she had had to endure on the Hood.

=^= Deck Nine, Section Three =^=

T'Shani exited the turbolift, walked to the end of the hall, and was about to turn right to proceed to Section Four. But she saw something....no, *someone*....that made her stomach churn.....~Oh Gods....Don't tell me we have *them* on board!~ she thought to herself....

Ramir Omar walked into her accidentally. “I do apologise,” he said to her condescendingly and with a smile of malice. All of his bodyguards emerged from one of the corridors and they just smirked at her as they pushed past.

T'Shani shuddered--her antannae quivering slightly. ~How dare he!~

If it weren't for all the bodyguards, she would have had his collar by now. Instead, she counted to five, let out a deep breath, and slicked-back her hair.

"Vulk'oon il L'amak thiy'oden Slamaar," [Your mother was a logical Vulcan] she said in her best Romulan, biting back the bitterness in her voice. She only knew a few phrases, but the language was similar-enough to Vulcan that she could speak some of it. To a Romulan, that was a form of an insult.

Omar looked at her and then all of his bodyguards bristled with anger. He was very surprised as he approached her.

“I would hope that you were not being insulting to me young woman.” The smile of total malice returned to his face but this time then it was menacing.

She continued, "He'i'Ill, my'larkra noov'oor Romuloon sa. Na'regum *chaka* gre'em," [Hope as you will, Romulan. Talk to my chaka about it.] She held her ground firmly, antennae curled back against her head, clutching the padded bag holding her chaka, or honor-blade. She was a warrior, and *no* Romulan bastard was going to talk down to her.

All of the bodyguards instantly drew their knives from their jackets but the senator quickly gestured to them. The knives were returned to their pockets. Omar then looked at her.

“You are not worthy of being trampled by my boot young woman.” He condescendingly scolded her with one of his fingers.

"And you are unworthy of the honor of tasting the metal of my chaka," she spat back at him. Her mind raced furiously. She could take two, maybe three of the guards at once, but there was no way she could get all four of them......or was there? ~What the hell is a *Romulan* pig doing aboard a Federation ship? Have things really gotten this *bad*~ She thought as she sized the senator up.

"Your kind only know how to *rape*," she said the pain and anger evident in her voice, "and plunder that which you do not have claim to. It is *you* who are unworthy of fighting such as I, a Grandmaster. I have killed scores of your kind in battle," She said contemptuously.

This remark angered the senator. “Silence Veruul!” he shouted at her. “You do not know of my people. If we destroyed some of your people then it was for a good reason.” He then sneered at her. “We do not tolerate inferior species. If you have killed some of our men then it is only because of their irritation at fighting with such of a pathetic race.” The bodyguards roared with laughter at his remark.

Her eyes focused...her heart pounded, the Andorian equivalent of adrenaline pulsing through her frame. ~How dare he!~

"Verk'irei'eel!" She yelled as--in one blindingly-fast move--she removed her chaka from its bag, dropped the shoulder carrier, and assumed the Firsst Order of Fire striking position, the blade held at an angle from her body; all in less than a second. One of Omar's bodyguards drew a plasma pistol but she deftly spun, arched backwards and kicked it out of his hands, drawing a gasp of surprise from the guard. ~Fucking Romulans...~

The senator just laughed at her sarcastically and then clapped his hands as if she was a form of circus entertainment to him.

Five seconds later then, a large number of plasma pistols were pointed at her and several of the guards proceeded to restrain her. Omar then just looked at her. He had to meet with the captain inside of ten minutes and so then this entertainment would not last for a long period of time. He took her knife. "I shall be keeping this knife." He smiled at her maliciously while he admired the weapon.

Instantly, T'Shani's eyes steeled and narrowed, her breathing calming...it was at this time that she was the most dangerous, when she was the most *focused*. Quickly, she pushed up, transferring her weight to the two centurions that were holding her arms in place. Using them as anchors, she kicked out. Both her powerful legs finding contact through her boots with the other two guards in front of her, to either side of Omar, effectively knocking them out.

Before the two centurions that were holding her knew what had happened, she had flicked her shoulders together, in front of her--a feat that would have caused dislocation of the shoulders in almost any other humaniod. This caused the two guards' foreheaads to smack together, knocking them unconcious, as well.

Now free, she took one giant step up to the senator, and pulled her chaka from his startled hands. "That's *MINE*," she said icily.

Before Omar could even react, she had backflipped, turned, and sprinted back down the corridor in the opposite direction, leaving her shoulder-case on the floor.

~Fucking Romulans...~

“You are to pursue her!” The senator shouted at his bodyguards but then he saw that they were occupied. Andorian food just happened to be contained inside of the shoulder-case that she had left with them. All of his bodyguards were vomiting at a vile odour that this food was producing. Omar was angry but then he was intrigued. He slightly admired her for badly injuring four of his bodyguards as well as for eating a rather vile substance that had managed to quickly deal with the rest of them. Though she was of an inferior species and that knife would be his. Very soon then he would have to visit her.

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