"Forgehammer"

Lieutenant JG Corran Rex,
Vanguard One

First Lieutenant T'Shani A'Akledorian,
Vanguard Three

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

=^= Deck 9, Section 4: T'Shani's Quarters =^=

T'Shani had just finished unpacking her things. Luckily the quartermaster from the Hood had been able to get everything accounted for and transported to her quarters. Her quarters...it was...nice. And big. No vie wports, though. But, that was alright. She was a warrior, and she didn't need such luxuries. No, all she had to do was survive. On this ship...

=^= Deck 37: Vanguard Division Offices =^=

~Dinner~

Lt. Cutter Kara'nin
Arkedi Nitel'rajek
Zan Lanaka

OOC -- All dialog loosely translated from Mika'kardi.

"Cutter! How blow the winds?"

"Fine," Cutter said, much less enthusiastically than Arkedi. He was wearing very common Kenaran clothes, flashing a lot of skin. A white sleeveless vest, but no shirt underneath, black pants that reached down to the middle of the shin with pockets sewn on the outside of the leg, sandals, and of course, the long arm and head bands whose ties reached the ground, not that Cutter noticed. He barely even glanced at his old friend, purposely trying to avoid eye contact.

"Come in. What do you think of my new home?" Arkedi said, throwing out his arms in display of his quarters.

"They're smaller than mine, but bigger than the average civilian's. Hello, Zan," Cutter stated as he entered.

"Hey, Cutu. Feeling better?" Zan smiled as she set the table. She was wearing a yellow stomachless top that held her breasts together and displayed her cleavage, Cutter couldn't help but let his eyes rest there for a moment.

"They are a little small," Arkedi continued, "one can't even open their wings all the way in them. Zan's is the same way. How do you stand it?"

"What do you mean 'feeling better?'" Cutter asked, ignoring his friend.

"You were upset yesterday."

"I was not upset, I..." Cutter started, but a nudge on his arm from Arkedi stopped him. He turned his head towards the dark haired Fruna'lin, glanced down at his arm, then back to Arkedi before realizing what the nudge was for. "I don't know, Arku. I've gotten used to it. I fly in the holodeck, there's enough room in there," he answered, then turning back towards Zan, added, "I'm not upset."

"When's the last time you had a good Kenaran meal, eh, Cutter? I looked, these replicators don't have much to choose from," Arkedi said, "I made bubuk burbura." He walked to a small shelf behind the table holding two covered platters.

"You cooked, Arku? Where were you able to cook?" Cutter asked, lifting his nose and sniffing the air as Arkedi lifted the covers and carried the platters to the table.

"He found a community kitchen on the deck below," Zan explained. "He made Liuden pasta, too. Here, sit," she ordered, patting the chair to her left.

Cutter did as he was told, and Arkedi followed, taking the third chair at the table. "Yes, its a bit of an inconvenience, to travel that far to a kitchen, but it had a very interesting name. What was it..." he asked himself, his hands stalled as he was serving the spiced meat, concentration devoted elsewhere.

"A galley," Cutter said, patiently holding his plate under the dangling bubuk.

"It means 'pillow' in Ganwa," Arkedi said, placing meat on Zan's plate and then beginning to serve the pasta.

"Yes, I know," Cutter nodded. They sat in silence for a moment as each began to shovel food into their mouths, a very rare thing with Arkedi around. Finally, he perked up his head and opened his mouth to start a conversation, but Cutter preempted him. "So, why did you come to the Galaxy?"

Arkedi was thrown off slightly by the sudden question. Zan made a slight grunt through her teeth, and before Arkedi could respond, spoke, "Arku. I was looking around the Anthropology department today."

"Yeah? How was it?" he asked. Then he looked at Cutter, "FKS CSEP. I told you yesterday."

"It was fine. They mostly study things through computers. They'll scan and record artifacts so they don't actually have to be removed, but they had a few pieces from a planet called Quentin."

"That's too bad. I know how you like to use your hands."

"Out of all the ships in the fleet, you came to the Galaxy?" Cutter asked, "You didn't come to just study linguistics."

"Yes, I did."

"They were talking about some game that is being hosted by a Cassius Henderson, I think," Zan continued.

"A game?" Arkedi perked up.

"No, you didn't. You can study linguistics anywhere."

"I don't remember the name, Dances and Dragons? Digging and Dragging? Something Terran. I thought you would be interested."

"Yes, that sounds like fun! Do you know what it is, Cutter?"

"Its, uh, its a game. You haven't answered me."

"I told you, Cutu, I came to study linguistics."

"We came for you," Zan finally said with noticeable frustration in her voice.

"What do you mean?"

"We came to help you. You're not feeling well," she continued.

"Well, I came to study linguistics," Arkedi smiled. Then a wing lifted up behind him and knocked him in the back of the head, causing a fresh bite of food to fly out of his mouth and land on the table. "Oww!! Ist, Zan! Ka!"

"What do you mean? I feel fine!" Cutter said, his voice started to rise into a higher octave.

"You letters. You were becoming depressed."

"Not just work-y and serious like you sometimes get," Arkedi added, "you were clearly ill. You missed last year's Ra'kamil'kenara!"

"Then, you stopped writing and we thought it had gotten worse. So, we came to be with you," Zan explained.

Cutter was clearly shocked by this. He sat for a moment, his jaw agape, letting the revelation sink in. Zan waited, watching for his reaction. Arkedi continued to eat. "You came for me?" he muttered, then paused, "Ka."

Zan glanced over at Arkedi, contentedly dishing himself seconds and then back to Cutter, who sat in thoughtful silence. Without any other action, she slowly took another bite of food and continued to wait in the rare silence. Finally, Cutter looked up. "I'm fine now, you know," he began to explain, "I don't work all day anymore, I fly regularly, I...I'm fine now."

"Well, that's good and well for you, Cutu, but Zan and I are stuck here now for at least a year because of the FKS CSEP," Arkedi said with false displeasure.

Cutter smiled, "Well, I'm glad you're here."

Chad Vicenik
Caberation@aol.com

"Workout"

Primary Characters:
Lieutenant Commander Cassius Henderson
(Chief Tactical)

First Lieutenant T'Shani A'Akledorian
(Vanguard Three)

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 12
Crew Gymnasium

Cassius Henderson switched into his workout clothes, a simple shirt and shorts.  He didn't want to think about what he'd been through, and getting away from it all with his workout plan would help that.  The days troubles disappeared when he was exercising.  It was a stress reliever, and he needed that.  Entering the gym, Cass tossed his towel aside and started his routine with laps on the small indoor track that encircled the room.  While he did so, he settled into his usual, time-with-intelligence driven routine of watching the other officers in the room.

The doors parted as T'Shani entered the room, instantly becoming aware of the gym surroundings. She was dressed in a pair of black, skintight workout cutoff shorts, with a matching black sportbra. Several crewmen stopped their workout routine to oggle her well-developed...*features*. She was used to it. Not many people were used to seeing an Andorian, much less a female. It didn't help that she was also at the prime of her mating cycle, either; a three-month window in which her body pumped itself up for one purpose...mating. It wreaked hell on her, not to mention the males around her.

As Cassius finished his first mile, he noticed the Andorian woman enter the gym, dressed for attention.  Henderson watched her head for the heavy weight zone and surmised that it must be the new marine pilot.  He was familiar with most, if not all of the new arrivals in the officer grades, especially among the marines, flight controllers, operations, security, and of course tactical.  It was an old habit from intelligence.

She walked over to the antigrav squat-bar, adjusted the sitting stool, and set the weight bar to 180 kilograms, roughly 400 one-gee pounds. Although Andorians were slight of build, their muscle mass contained more than twice the density compared to a human.

She positioned herself under the weights, and was about to release the safeties, when she heard a voice behind her.

"Hang on a moment," Henderson said stepping of the circular track around the gym, deciding to take a moment and spot for her, "I'll help support it if you drop it.  That's quite a starting weight, even for an Andorian, and I'd hate to see you strain something in your first week onboard, much as that would only be a quick trip to medical.  However, it's Doctor Malgin's shift, and that could be a bit dicey."  He moved to step in behind her.

~Humans...~ she barely rolled her eyes, and curled her antennae in mild annoyance. Stretching both her arms behind the back of her head, she flexed her muscles; biceps, triceps, and deltoids standing out clearly beneath the sheek jet-black fabric of her workout clothing.

~Andorians...  Ever since they joined the Federation, some of them seem to think they have something to prove,~ he found himself smiling, ~Impressive display though.  This one seems to like showing off.~  He then remembered of a friend of his from Advanced Intelligence School, an Andorian who'd been one of his closer friends, and his intel partner during the war.  Only that same intel training allowed him to keep his face even.  It was a bad memory.

"I can handle it, 'Commander Henderson," she said in that soft, yet husky lisp common to Andorians. Most other humanoids didn't know what to make of her voice; something so deep and...strange-sounding for someone so slight of frame.

"I'm certain you can," he said, "However, and I'm worried at all, you'd be better off with a spotter."  He noticed that she'd caught his name without his mentioning it.  Had she known Celia?  She was much younger than his former partner.  No, he was just being suspicious.

T'Shani imperceptably smiled; she had her knowledge-base, as well. And she used it. One thing the Marines taught you: use *everything* you've got. *EVERYTHING*.

She continued, "...though, from what I've gathered about Lieutenant Commander Malgin, I will *allow* you to assist me in my repetitions." There was an added edge to the word 'allow', that Cass picked up on.

"Sounds good," he said, noticing her word choices and accents.  She was very Andorian, in a traditional sense.  His old partner had much of the same fire in her, though maybe not to this extent.

T'Shani ducked back under the bar, again, and positioned her arms around the bar. She felt Cass's hands brush her's--ever so slightly-- as he positioned himself to help support the lift bar, in case she dropped it.

"You may release the safeties now, 'Commander," T'Shani informed him, coolly.

Cassius nodded, reached down and released the safeties, then returned his hand, professionally, to the bar.  "You may begin.  I heard about your encounter with Ambassador Omar." ~ONE~  "He wasn't happy at being shown up, I'd imagine.  I read in your file about what happened to your clan." ~TWO~ "I can't say I don't understand your feelings." ~THREE~ "There are, however, three Rihannsu on this vessel." ~FOUR~ "One is the ambassador, who you've met.  Junior Senator Omar." ~FIVE~ "The second is my assistant in tactical, SubCommander tr'Khellian." ~SIX~ "He's here on the exchange program, and seems reasonable enough." ~SEVEN~ "The last is Warrant Officer Sostik tr'Riasau, who has served in Starfleet since he was 18 and enlisted as a tactical analyst.  He was raised by humans." ~EIGHT~ 

T'Shani paused, then hefted her shoulders up; the lift bar locking itself back in place. She merely grunted at the mention of the other Sl'uurg's that seemed to be on board. ~Gods, what the hell is going on here?~

She also didn't like the fact that Henderson had mentioned the atrocity to her clan. No doubt, he *would* have access to her files, but he didn't need to go advertising his knowledge to anyone.

"What happened to my people--with all *respect*, 'Commander--is of no concern of yours," she said bluntly. Then, realizing she may have sounded a little *too* harsh, "I do not wish anyone to discuss that."

With that, she turned back to Henderson, stood up, and looked him square-in-the-eye, her antennae bending forward, as if challenging his response.

Henderson resisted the urge to snap off a responce... Bit back the urge to snap off a response.  "No doubt.  As you said, it is none of my concern, unless you chose to make it thus.  I simply wish to offer advice.  Do not allow old pain to get in the way of new opportunities.  Also, do not allow old pain to interfere with your duties, or those of others onboard."

He paused a moment, "Though certainly I doubt anyone here would blame you for dealing with Ambassador Omar in such a manner.  He gives *his* people a bad name," he said, the decided to finish, "And I'm no innocent to the Andorian people.  I worked in intelligence with a woman not unlike yourself.  Don't treat me as if I know nothing."

He was finished.  He doubted it had gotten him anywhere, and if anything, he only felt worse now, but at least he'd gone ahead and said what he felt. That was who he was.  He watched the defiant young woman, so remenicent of Celia sh'Velta, who had died too young, awaiting whatever she chose to say. Likely a good bye or a threat.  He remembered Celia's angers, when she'd felt provoked.

T'Shani was just about to say something; something either sarcastic, rude, or threatening...or maybe all of the above. Who did this human think he was? Umarin, himself?

But....but....~There's something different about this man~ she thought. He wasn't backing down. He didn't seem intimidated by her, as most others saw her. In fact, it almost seemed that he could see right through her, right to the *real* T'Shani...someone *no one* had seen since she had been that little girl on Seltax VII...

~No~....She shook the thought away.

For a moment...just the briefest of moments...she let her guard down...almost imperceptably. Instead of scowling, she offered Cass a wry smile...just a *little* one.

"T'Shani A'Akledorian, 'Commander," she said, dipping her antennae in the Andorian approximation of a 'handshake'. Then, remembering the strange human custom, she actually...strangely for her...offered her hand, somewhat awkwardly, unsure if this was the proper procedure.

"As you well know, Cassius Henderson, Chief Tactical" he said, "I work out here most every other day, same time.  If you feel like talking, let me know.  For now, though, I need to go check on something in the tactical offices, so I guess I'll see you around."  He nodded his head in a close approximation of an Andorian antennae dip.  Body language was always important.

~Interesting...~ she thought as she withdrew her hand. ~He knows how to properly *greet*...well, for someone without I'ithmay's [antennas]~

She returned her face to the stone-cold demeanor of before. "Very well, 'Commander. Perhaps we shall see each other again."

"Perhaps," he said, then turned and left the room, heading for the showers. There was a lot more work to do. And he wanted to talk to Rima about the game. This had been an interesting morning. Now it was time for the real work.

"Setting the Stage"

By
Legate Kylar Curran
Chief Liaison Officer
USS Galaxy

Deck 3
Old Liaison Offices

"...and that is the summation of the events that have transpired, Ambassador-General." Kylar Curran sat rigidly upon his rather nondescript chair in his old offices on Deck 3. The original furniture he had requisitioned was now being set up and arranged in his new offices on Deck 17, stardrive section.

He didn't trust the new security protocols in the new offices yet. He was deep on the waiting list of Commander Suder's tasks, and no matter how hard Curran pressed, the Betazoid wouldn't budge. Kylar would simply have to wait.

He hadn't yet interviewed the Chief Engineer as yet, but that is for another day. Other more pressing priorities pulled at the Kelvan.

"And you are positive this wasn't some trick to entice you into this avenue of hostilities with the Hydrans, Legate?" Ambassador-General Natasha Mol was the highest ranking officer of the Diplomatic Corps. Under her supervision, the Liaison Corps, Federation Border Patrol, and Judge Advocate General's Office act as one unit since their merger in 2379 when the Federation Council passed the Emergency Measures Act due to paranoid military types after the Dominion War.

"If it was a trick, Ambassador-General, they went to great lengths to convince me." The 'living' timeship, the look of despondence on the Hydran Tactical Officer's face at learning the truth. It may not be the complete truth, but it was based in fact, at the very least.

Natasha's brow wrinkled. Her golden curls, grown somewhat longer and out of regulation, hung over her left eye. She casually brushed it aside. Rank had its privileges.

"You know I'm going to have to report this. Temporal Investigations will be sent out there." Her voice grew hard. No one liked dealing with Temporal Investigations. When they got involved, it was tantamount to one breaking the Prime Directive. It could cost some officers their careers.

"I understand, Ambassador-General." No one could be blamed here, he knew that. But when it came to the DTI, no one was safe.

"The debris recovered from the explosion at Quentin. Have you made any progress on identifying the compositions?" When the point of paradox had been identified, Curran, Karyn Dallas, and the diplomatic envoy were transported back into the stream. Dragos had inferred that he would be making one last act as Captain, but what that was, Curran could only guess. From the condition of the ship as they left it, he assumed they had self-destructed to take the Hydran ship with them, since the living ships would not fire on each other.

"None as yet, ma'am. Sciences has identified organic materials, and deposits of an unknown alloy. They are intensely damaged by heat, making it difficult to ascertain the dates of the debris. We haven't any signifant confirmation of it being from the future.

"This concerns me greatly, Kylar." Natasha leaned back, and steepled her fingers in thought. "I want you to keep in contact with the Border Patrols in the area. I'll send orders to those stationed to pay heed to your command authority in these matters, and to report any odd occurrences."

Kylar nodded. Border Patrol were not Starfleet, and therefore not party to the political overtures of the interstellar navy. They were a local militia and not subject to the inane peace-loving laws of the 'Fleet. They would serve well.

"Yes, ma'am. I have already been maintaining an eye on their communiqués with Outposts in the area. There have been some reported skirmishes near the Rihannsu Neutral Zone with unknown vessels. A few civilian ships have reported hit and run attacks. We assumed them to be pirates until further investigation has uncovered anything."

"Excellent. Re-route any available border resources to confirm or deny this threat either way."

"Ambassador?" Curran's senses tingled. Something was amiss.

"Yes, Legate?" Natasha had drawn back into her business-like shell.

"What do you know of the Hydrans? Have we been maintaining contact with them since last century at all?" Something Dragos had said. 'The Federation forgot about them.'

"All attempts at contact have stalled."

"All attempts when? How long have we been talking with them?"

"That is classified, Legate. You have your orders." Her eyes drew cold, and Kylar leveled his own gaze at her, just shy of what may be construed of as insubordination.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Careful, Legate. You're an excellent officer with a colourful career ahead of you. Don't push yourself into a corner where you are neither needed or wanted. You could get locked in, and you may not like where you'd end up." With that, she shuffled her pads on her desk and into the next topic, without waiting for an answer.

"Now, Kylar, your next mission is going to have need of your diplomatic talents. You are aware you have two Rihannsu on board the USS Galaxy?"

Kylar had included scanning the latest personnel files, and had noticed the senator and tactical exchange officer on board. What with all the activity the ship has faced over the last two months, he hadn't had the opportunity to interview them himself.

"Yes, I had, but I haven't spoken with them as yet. My staff has made themselves available for their needs in the meantime."

"Sub-Commander Savar and Junior Senator Ramir Omar will be all too important shortly. Build a relationship with them. Gain their trust if possible. They will liken themselves moreso to you since you are Kelvan. Become their trusted ally and friend." Kylar winced at the use of the word. 'friend'. He had no use for friends.

"Yes, ma'am. May I ask details on the upcoming mission?"

"The data is downloading now as we speak. It's all need-to-know. Classified. You may not discuss it with anyone. Not even Captain M'Kantu." This raised a curious eyebrow, but he nodded.

"Now, I am late for a meeting with Admiral Hoth. We'll talk again later, Legate. Mol out." With that, the screen pitched dark, and up fluttered the Starfleet logo, signifying an end to the transmission.

MAJOR BACKPOST: Sorry for hanging on to this so long guys, but I didn't want to release it until we were on hiatus. This continues the Karyn/Victor/Kylar subplot begun in "Memories of Home" (Victor attacks Karyn). Look for the three of us to explore the aftermath of these incidents in future JPs. ~Lori

"The Pendulum Swings... Counter-Clockwise"

by
Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Federation Liaison Officer

Counselor Karyn Dallas,
Wonder Woman :-)
USS Galaxy

Curran shook on his jacket just as he exited the turbolift to Deck 7. The homing maps still shone the way to Krieghoff's quarters.

The broad grey carpet felt light under his feet as he danced lightly in a trot over the fibers. The lights tracked above him, dim in the failing light of Beta shift until he came around a bend into the section which housed the Junior Officer's quarters. Slowing only as he passed each bulkhead until he located the Security Officer's assigned unit.

Composing himself as she would not be alone, he pressed the buzzer and waited. He would take Dallas to a dark corner and ring her neck once he stole her away from the Lieutenant who was probably whining angst, spewing weaknesses at the tower of corruption called Counselor.

This was Starfleet's way of tapping into the psyches of all their members to control them. The methods had been recorded for centuries. He wouldn't fall to the talons of this woman. Something nagged in his head. Flashes of her tousled face leaned over him, and emotions of anger and hatred turmoiled beneath his carefully stoic visage. He felt an urge to kill her.

And being the legal representative of the Judge Advocate General on the Galaxy, and not falling under Starfleet law, he could probably get away with it.

In fact, he knew he could.

His fists clenched into balls of white, he waited.

*****

The chime startled her, and the sudden start made her muscles seize in protest. An involuntary groan escaped her lips followed by a hitched sob. Hurriedly wiping at the twin tears that followed, Karyn did her best to calm herself. It would do no good for anyone to see her acting hysterically. She was going to be fine. It was over. The most important thing now was to keep it together so they wouldn't ask too many questions.

In her shock, she failed to question why those coming to her aid would bother ringing the door chime, instead offering the automatic, almost unconscious response. "Come in." Her voice was entirely too calm, entirely too small. Karyn was only certain of two things in that moment: She didn't want anyone to see her like this, and that she didn't have much choice.

*****

The door slid open to a fading light as the systems on the ship automated the day/night cycle onboard. Leaning in slightly, avoiding any potential embarrassing moments of finding the woman and Krieghoff in a passionate embrace, he took a quick survey of the room.

Nothing. No one to greet him. But the door had been unlocked from within. He'd heard the audible, hadn't he? He shook his head slightly, not wishing anyone passing behind him to alter their opinion of him at all. He enjoyed the air of authority he permeated the space he inhabited gave him.

Still, this was odd. Had the androids tricked him into coming here? A twisting wrench tore through his torso at the thought of those abominable machines. He hesitatingly took a tender step inside, keeping his body in the perimeter of the bulkhead to keep it open.

Karyn's breathing had slowed tremendously in the time since she had incapacitated Victor Krieghoff. She'd forced herself to slow her breathing so as not to hyperventilate, but it occured to her then that it might be a good idea to do so in order to stay quiet. Why such an irrational thought had entered her mind she didn't know, and she fought it. She swallowed hard, trying to rid her mouth and throat of the feeling it had been stuffed with cotton balls.

"I'm-" Too weak. "I'm in here." she called more loudly.

Curran's head cocked at the voice that carried to him softly from his right. It sounded... familiar. He hadn't interacted with much of the ship's crew under the senior officers, so it left him with-

"Dallas." What a fantastic opportunity! Had he caught her in an act of wanton pleasure he could use against her? Fraternizing with the junior officers was not necessarily approved of, and with Krieghoff of all people! But where was Krieghoff?

Then, he saw the toppled plant, the scattered goods strewn about as his eyes became used to the darkness. There'd been a struggle here, he could tell. Even if the two of them had become involved in gratuitous sexual contact - he felt a well of intense, radiant anger rise up in him for that -, a woman in a wheelchair couldn't have been a apart of it. It simply wasn't possible from his knowledge of the handicapped.

But then again, in his culture, the handicapped are sent to the oceans to die. They are of no use to the Kelvan military machine. So, his knowledge of Terran customs was limited in that regard.

Now, he had a decision to make. Was he to go to her, and be illuminated as to the nature of her lack of conversational skills, or exit the premises in the hope she becomes prey to her choices? If he went to her, the bulkhead would close, and he might become trapped. Locked in by a trick of an android to break him - again? Flashes of skin, faces, screams, came to him. He blinked the images away.

Armed with a sense of foreknowledge, he took a step outside the perimeter of the the door sensors, and slid them shut behind him.

"Computer, raise the light levels an additional 10 percent." He wanted enough light to move around, but not so much as to blind him in the event he was attacked.

The sudden increase in illumination startled her even as she tried to determine who the man was who'd ordered it. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited until she thought her eyes could adjust. Ever so slowly, she opened them, determined to meet the medical personnell with resolve. She looked like hell, and she felt like hell, but she was alive.

"I'm in here!" she called again, scanning the room for her would be rescuer. Gently she turned her neck toward the door. "I'm in h..." The rest died in her throat as her eyes locked on the only other conscious figure in the room. And in that very moment, she knew it was all over.

His eyes locked with Karyn Dallas' own. The light of hope glimmered out as he knew she knew he was there, witnessing her in all her glory.

Krieghoff had collapsed on top of her, his arms draped over her like a blanket. He could see her right eye was swollen shut, dark rings already forming around it. Blood had pooled on the floor underneath her, streaming down her face, bruised and swollen as it was.

Kylar felt a smile tug on the corner of his mouth, and crossed his arms.

"Quite a predicament you've gotten yourself into there, haven't we, Counselor?"

His cheerfulness washed over her like background noise. "I've called sickbay," she replied, "someone should be here any minute."

"But there isn't anyone here now, is there? Just you and me. Whatever shall we do in the meantime?" At this time he took careful well-meaning steps towards the Counselor, and knelt to the floor beside her. One knee placed carefully away from any of the mess on the carpet, the other upraised so he could dangle an elbow off it. He stroke his beard.

"Looks like someone took away all my fun, now. I was hoping to give you that black eye in a small way. Hmmm... what can I do to make your wait more.. comfortable?" His eyes simply glittered.

"Why are you doing this?" Dallas asked, incredulous.

"Doing what?" He made a singular effort to show innocence, but didn't give it too much. Why should he? She wasn't worth the effort. This handicapped, beaten, shell of a life. If you can call being trapped in a hoverchair a life.

"Trying to hurt me when all I did was try to help you." she replied. She was getting sleepy again and deep down she knew she was losing the battle to stay alive.

"You know, in my culture, it is a matter of honor to ask one to take their life in this circumstance." He gently ran a finger along her neckline, feeling for the artery. Her pulse-rate was slowing. "I could accomodate you on that." He saw himself wrap his arm around her neck to snap it. He could never imagine such a moment would ever present itself to him.

Karyn could feel his finger trace her neck, almost lovingly, but it could not rattle her. In a few minutes she would be dead, and it hardly seemed worth it to quibble over what or whom brought it about. She managed a self-assured smile. "That would be entirely too easy on you now, wouldn't it? I'll not beg you for anything."

Kylar raised an eyebrow without looking at her.

"Easy? No. Not easy, Counselor. Killing is never easy for us. A necessity, yes, but hardly enjoyable."

He leaned into her and brushed his lips across her ear. Krieghoff was slumbering peacefully away.

"Well, in some cases, I guess it would..." He whispered as he kissed just behind her ear as he gripped her neck with one hand, the side of her with the other. "It'll be over soon, Karyn, I promise."

Karyn shuddered as he kissed her and closed her eyes against the pain. She wanted to fight back but she knew without a doubt that she didn't have an ounce of life left in her to fight back. She was dying. "Come and get me, you son of a bitch."

With a grin as sly as the devil, Kylar knew he had the counselor at an extreme disadvantage. He strained to make the decision he had to make.

He snapped her head forward against his shoulder, burying her face in his jacket. He'd have to incinerate another one. His brows crinkled as he threw his arm further down Dallas' back using it as a brace.

He pulled her forward as he twisted his body under hers for better leverage. Human bones, cartilage, and flesh can be resilient unless you get the right angle.

He heaved with all his back strength, rolling the lion of a man off of Karyn Dallas, and onto the floor beside them. He slid back off the woman, coming to a rest on the balls of his feet once again, brushing the vestiges of human grime and dirt off his collar where Dallas had rested for a short time.

"Disgusting human blood. Or is that tears? I can never tell with you Terrans. I would be exalted to be in the position you are in, Ms. Dallas. Why do you not ask for peace in death?"

The scream died in her throat at the sound of the door chime...

****

Commander Karyn Dallas, RN
Chief Counselor/Nurse
USS Galaxy - A

Lt. Carolyn Shaw, Ph.D.
Chief Counselor
USS Arizona

"Timeshare"

Lieutenants Jeremy Savoie
and
Corran Rex

19:00 on the dot and Jeremy Savoie arrived at holodeck three.

"Computer, run holodeck program Savoie-seven-four."

::Unable to comply. Holodeck is in use.::

"Aw, for Chrissakes . . . who's using it?" he demanded. Savoie hadn't reserved the holodeck and waited all day to use it just to have some damn computer tell him he couldn't.

::Lieutenant Corran Rex:: the computer stated obediently.

"Well throw him the hell out of there!" Jeremy snapped.

::Unable to comply::

He sighed loudly. Erin was busy tonight and he was planning to enjoy a nice day at the beach, soaking in the sun and watching the sights - bikini-clad sights. "HEY! Whoever the hell you are let's go! You're time's up!" he shouted as he pounded his fist on the door. He knew his protests probably wouldn't be heard but it helped release his frustration.

"Computer, pause program." Corran instructed. "Arch. Open doors, let whoever it is in."

When Savoie entered, he found himself standing on... literally nothing. The inky blackness of space contrasted with the brilliant pin-pricks of stars as he walked into what seemed to be the recreation of a space battle.

One of the stars was, of course, larger and brighter than the others and was very familiar to both pilots. It was the star that the planet Quentin - which was over there on the right - orbited. Hanging in space, frozen in the holoprogram, were representations of the Starships Galaxy, Nimitz, Hood and Pershing, several squadrons of starfighters, and the Quentite Warp Ship, the Horus.

"Lieutenant Savoie." the Trill nodded as the ship's Chief Helmsman entered, moving his head away from a stream of phaserfire that connected two starfighters.

"Can I help you with something?

"Yeah, you can stop hogging the holodeck. Your time's up," Jeremy tersely replied, his eyes taking in the scene in front of, beside, and below him. "What the hell's all this?"

"Something that was and then was not." Savoie, of course, had no way of knowing that Jalen, Rex's very first host, was presently in control of the Corran's body. In life, Jalen had been a scientist. He was especially intrigued by the recent temporal incident, and was lending his considerable skills at memory into a recreation of the "Battle That Never Was"

Jeremy looked up from the floor -- or rather, the space -- below. "That's nice," he added flatly -- this guy was a loon -- "but I'm here for what will be: a nice, sunny beach in Florida with plenty to drink and wall-to-wall babes. So if you'll just take what was, what was not, and whatever else you've got going here, Poindexter, that'd be really great."

"I have four more minutes, Lieutenant Savoie. If you would like to assist me.... then do so. Otherwise, kindly cease your noise until I have finished. Computer, resume program." Corran/Jalen replied, and the various ships began to move in an eerie silence. The Trill entered various data into the PADD as the scene shifted, moving a ship here, or retiming a weapons blast, that sort of thing. Rex muttered softly to himself the entire time.

"Four minutes my ass! You need a new chronometer," Savoie protested as a small meteor passed to his left. He was about to instruct the computer to end the program when something caught his attention. "I'd never position the Galaxy that close to those fighters," he remarked. "Can't get a clean shot at anything with all them buzzing around."

"You weren't piloting the Galaxy, Lieutenant." Rex replied, continuing to adjust the recreation. "I am uncertain of who was. Mister Farrall, I believe."

"There's something that shouldn't have been," the helmsman muttered. "Fine, whatever, can you pack it up now so I can get some sun?"

"Pay attention, Lieutenant." Corran replied, still ignoring Savoie's requests for him to leave. "I am attempting to resolve a conundrum which is plaguing many of the people on this ship. Though your no doubt feeble brain likely has no recollection of it, the rest of us are having strange dreams, visions, sensations of deja vu in dealing with a recent temporal event that affected everyone on this starship. I am attempting to map out the exact occurrences of what happened. I believe that to be of more paramount importance than your self-flagellating flattery of ego you wish to no doubt persist in." For the reclusive Jalen, who'd never uttered so many words to anyone either during his life or well after it, on the few occasions when his personality emerged in Rex's body, this was a veritable soliloquy.

"Your 'conundrum is precisely why I spent an hour yesterday putting together a holodeck escape," Jeremy shot back. "Computer, end program!" he shouted, staring at Rex as the scene dissolved into the sterile perpendiculars of the holodeck grid. "So much for strange visions."

Corran closed his eyes for a moment as his vision swam - and Jalen relinquished control of the body. Fighting the obvious retorts, Corran simply sneered and Galaxy's Chief of Flight Control. "Fine, Lieutenant. Holodeck's all yours. Enjoy your ....sunbathing." he said, stuffed his hands and the small PADD into the pockets of his flight jacket, and stalked out.

"More Late Night Connections"

Primary Characters:
Lieutenant Commander Cassius Henderson

Secondary Characters:
Fleet Admiral Irene deMercereau
Ensign Rima Pennington

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 8
Cassius Henderson's Quarters

"...and that is the summation of the events that have transpired, Admiral."  Cassius Henderson sat in his quarters on Deck 8, still in uniform despite the late hour. He'd arrived about a half hour ago for his scheduled report to Fleet Admiral Irene Honor deMercereau, commanding officer of 12th Fleet, and one of the most respected Dove leaders. Henderson watched the screen intently, considering deMercereau's reactions.

Cassius's eyes were drawn to a picture above the monitor. He'd put it up there earlier. A shifting hologram of an Andorian Lieutenant JG in Intelligence black. Lieutenant JG Celias Daturan sh'Veltaysa. She'd gone by Celia among humans, and they had been friends.

He sighed. Sometimes they had been more than friends during the long hard months of their Advanced Intelligence Training and the early Dominion War. Then, like the songbirg referenced in her name, she'd flown away, killed by a stray shot by a Cardassian sniper during a failed infiltration mission.

"And you're sure that close to a hundred percent of the other crew members recall their experiences in this alternate mission?" deMercereau replied, looking Henderson square in the eye. She'd only just returned to the USS Relentless after it had taken severe damage in an explosion at Sorvens II.

"At the very least, the majority of the senior staff have experienced such memories," Henderson replied, "Captain M'Kantu informed me when I reported what Ensign Pennington and I experienced that he himself had experienced similar effects, as had Lieutenants Rex and Geluf. Today I spoke to my department about the experience. Many of them are having the same problem, particularly CPO Mirapoints, who remembers losing a leg in the initial encounter."

Irene deMercereau frowned, brushing at her whitish blond hair. She didn't like what she was hearing, "Admiral Hoth's crews are reporting similar things. As I'm sure you know, the Galaxy has been ordered to Wolf 359 for refits to the more experiemental systems. I expect you'll be kept there for some time while this is straightened out."

"In addition, I wouldn't be surprised if you see Davis Anderson from Federation Directorate of Temporal Investigations out there," she continued. She herself had recently completed a run in with Agent Anderson, a rising star in the agency, who had been investigating a case she'd thought was closed.

Henderson groaned, "Yes, Irene, I gathered as much. Davis would love to get his hands on such a high profile case? Any idea how he'll handle it?"

"From experience, we're looking at a general recall of Admiral Hoth, Captain M'Kantu, Captain Escalante, Captain DeSoto, and Captain Soorvak," she said, "During that time, who knows where you'll be..." she thought for a moment, "But now that you do mention it, I'll try to be the one sending the replacement CO."

"That would probably be preferable," Henderson said, "I can't say that I want to see another John Q. Bhrode, though I really didn't mind him much." He cracked his neck and replicated some water.

deMercereau clicked something offscreen, checking off the things she wanted to talk to him about, "And how is Ensign Pennington shaping up? I gather she wasn't happy at being replaced. There really was little I could do about that."

"She punched me, Irene," Henderson said, deciding to tell the Admiral exactly how he felt on this particular matter. He hadn't even really felt satisfied by his conversation with Lieutenant D'Tinya. Maybe deMercereau could help. She'd been his counselor in the past. And she owed him, for sending Rima.

"How's that?" deMercereau asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Rima hauled off and hit me, Irene. We were making progress, damn it!" Cassius swore, blowing out air in exasperation, "I was beginning to get her to feel comfortable with our work. She was starting to stop being so apathetic about everything, and...agh."

"Finished?" Irene asked, leaning back and steepling her fingers. When he nodded, she began, "I know it's not easy, and it can't be, considering Ensign Pennington. But consider this. For me to have blocked Savar tr'Khellian's transfer, I would have had to find a way to Aimee Huntingdon to turn the application back, then convince the Rihannsu governor who sponsered him not to press the case. During all of this, Commodore Huntingdon and I would have had to deflect attention from what was going on. All for one Ensign, who, as you'll recall, also punched my nephew, though I would probably count that as a good thing, considering that it made him realize how much of a fool he was being."

"Really? It just hurt for me," he grinned in responce, "I understand your point. I think I'm only getting so upset about this because..." He sighed again. "...I think I'm starting to like Rima Pennington in a way that is more than as my colleague.

Irene deMercereau's expression was one of shock and surprise, "Really? I thought it hurt? I guess that's why. And what makes you believe that you're falling in love with Rima Pennington?"

"Memories not of this time, for starters," Henderson said, "And just feelings that I'm getting now. Whispers of affection that I don't remember. We never acted on it, even during the alternate mission at Quentin. She's too proud to admit it. And wants to believe that she's too apathetic. We'll see."

"Good luck, Cassius," deMercereau nodded, "I imagine you'll need it. Well, Lieutenant Cooper is calling me, and I think it may be important. We're headed for Bajor and the trade meeting at DS9. As for you, all that I can tell you is to keep an eye on the Rihannsu Border. Ever since we dissolved the Neutral Zone with them after Galvanis, the tension there has been steadily increasing. I'm concerned, and so is Starfleet Command."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll have Warrant Officer tr'Riasau keep an eye on border for me. If anyone can get me more information than I normally would have access to, it would be him," Henderson said, "Good night, Irene."

"Good night, Cassius. And say something kind to Ensign Pennington when you next see her. It may help." The image flickered off, and 12th Fleet's distinctive Dove in Storm insignia appeared after it.

He nodded, and turned around, thinking about what else he had to do.

*Talk to Warrant tr'Riasau *Talk to Lieutenant' Rex *Say something nice to Rima...

"Right," he frowned, just as the door chime rang.

*DING DONG*

~What now?~ he thought, standing and shutting the terminal.

*DING DONG*

"Come in," he said, sitting on the futon nearby.

Rima Pennington straggled through the door and sank down on the far end of the futon. Her hair was a mess and she didn't look happy. "It's 0100, I can't sleep. Tell me why I can't sleep. You seem to think you can tell me everything else and it will be true, Cassius Henderson."

He thought for a moment. Now didn't feel like the time, but he knew deMercereau had meant it. He would try. "I don't know, Rima. I can't really sleep myself."

"You? I gather you don't know why either? God! I'm crying. For no reason. This! This is pathetic," Pennington said, tears streaking her face. She didn't bother to push him away when he moved to sit closer to her.

"Your emotions are overloaded, Rima," he said, wrapping her up in his arms, expecting her to lash out at him. "You've been through too much this last week."

Surprising even herself, she found that even she was too tired to fight with him, and realized that it was pointless. Or was it that she didn't want to. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was that she felt safer with Cassius Henderson, and she didn't want to let go. Quietly, she just kept crying.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 8
Cassius Henderson's Quarters

Cassius stepped into his bedroon, pulled off his jacket, shirt and boots, and dropped into bed as he was, locking the door. Pennington was asleep on the couch, having dozed off and hour ago. He'd wrapped her in some blankets. He'd wake up before her and cook breakfast, then invite her to the game later in the day to help her relax. She was, in fact, and he thought it was cliche to the point of being ridiculous, beautiful when she slept. But we wouldn't tell her that. It was such a damn dysfunctional attraction.

"A Misunderstanding and Subsequent Rescue"

Lt (jg) Ammanalyn Lywhyn,
Counselor

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

Ammanalyn Lywhyn was a tiny, waifish girl who looked no older than 16, though she was eight years beyond that. She had dark brown hair worn in medium length curls and large brown colored doe-like eyes. Her lips were finely sculpted like a porcelain doll's, and they would often widen into a large smile under a small, pixie-like nose. She had always been told she was pretty, ever since she was a young girl growing up at the university, but Am had always thought of herself as rather plain so she paid no real mind to whatever everyone else said.

She had gotten the notice only four hours ago that she was set to leave on the very next transport. She had been happy to go, having requested a transfer several weeks earlier. However, it had been a little bit of a surprise and quite a hard press to meet the transport in time. She'd flung about packing the remainder of her things and Tampatiaen had not been a happy camper either and has spent the time changing shape in extreme agitation, which only added to her own.

They were presently on their way across the transport station-- she hesitated to call it that, but that was the closest thing she could come up with to describe what it was-- toward the shuttle they would be taking to rendezvous with the Galaxy.

Tam had taken the form he seemed to favor above the others (though not quite enough to make an eternal commitment to it) of a snow leopard, whose spots glowed a brilliant silver again his sparkling white fur, while his pale blue eyes watched the area a cat's precision. He kept close to her in effort to avoid the other people bustling around, though frankly, most of them avoided him even more so, looking with an almost fearful suspicion toward the unimposing girl in the mid-night blue civvies with the large silver-white cat pressed close against her legs.

"Tam, you're going to trip me," she said, barely catching her balance, which was a feat against the weight of the extraordinarily large duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

"I don't want to be touched," he responded. "The Incomplete don't pay much attention to me."

"I have a feeling they're paying plenty of attention to you now. We're parting the sea like Moses, if you hadn't noticed."

"I have noticed. This is the way I like it."

"Well that's fine. But back off a little bit. I have enough trouble with this duffel without you knocking me off my-" But at that moment they ended up tangled together and with the weight of the duffel (almost a full 60 pounds) all hope of regaining balance were lost and girl and Daemon crashed to the hard floor. She sighed as Tampatiaen flicked through several different forms before settling on the ermine shape and crawled up to her chest, staring at her firmly.

"You should be more aware," he chided.

"I told you that you were going to trip me," she said back, narrowing her eyes. "Honestly. We should have this down by now."

"If you packed lighter everything would be fine. You can replicate things when you get on the ship."

"I know, but that's not the same," she stated. A few people had paused to watch, but they'd seen the Daemon changing form and most immediately thought it was a Founder, so they were afraid to approach and offered no assistance, though one had gone to get a security detail.

Of course, neither Ammanalyn nor Tampatiaen knew this at the time, and while they noticed the eyes and the lack of assistance, they chalked it up to the Incomplete just being rude. He climbed onto her shoulder, holding onto the fabric of her clothing with his tiny front claws while she stood awkwardly, almost falling down again as she realized she was also tangled in the strap and tried to lug the bag back up. She sighed, brushing a piece of hair from her face. It was straight today, which was unusual, but she hadn't had enough time or inclination to make in look nice in its curly form.

"Oh, baent," she cursed, realizing the strap had broken. "Look what you made me do." She looked at Tampatiaen's silver-white ermine head and he looked back firmly.

"I told you to pack lighter."

"You didn't tell me why."

"I can't keep track of you all the time."

"Of course you can. You keep track of yourself, don't you?" She decided the best thing to do would be to pull the bag the rest of the way. She was just rigging it up so she could do that when Tam whispered a warning in her ear, and all of a sudden she was grabbed by a security officer's large hands. She shrieked with surprise and Tam had already flicked into a snowy owl, taking off into the air and shrieking a horrible noise. "What are you doing?! Let me go!" she shouted, batting at the man with a fist, Tam still shrieking.

"Want me to shoot it down?" a second security man, an enlisted officer, asked the ensign who held her as though she was nothing, her tiny fist but a pebble against his large bicept. He had a phaser aimed toward the fluttering Tampatiaen who was moving around as much as he could to avoid the man's aim.

"No! No, you can't!" Ammanalyn exclaimed. "He can't hurt you! He can't hurt you! Tam! Tam come down!" But she knew why he wouldn't because the moment he did he would be seized by the human's hands and that was too painful a prospect. "Please…" she was sobbing now desperately trying to get away, her weight flung back away from the man, her other hand trying to pry his from her wrist. Tam shifted into a smaller bird at that moment, making crying sound not unlike her own. "I'm a ‘lieutenant, I order you to let me go, I'm a superior officer… please…"

"Let the girl go!" a bystander shouted, stepping forward from the crowd, wearing a Captain's uniform. Ammanalyn didn't recognize him, but the four pips and red uniform were all that were necessary and she was immediately released. She fell backward from the suddenness, landing once again harshly on the hard floor, and Tam immediately flew into her arms, shifting into his fox form which was the size of a very small dog. He cuddled her with cooing noises as she sat, trying to stop crying, her face buried in his soft, beautiful fur. "What is the matter with you?!" the captain exclaimed.

"We were alerted that she has a shape-shifter, sir," the ensign said. "You've seen it."

"If it was a Founder, Ensign, it would have escaped by now rather than hovering and risk being shot down, did you ever think of that?" the Captain asked.

"Sir, we still have to take it into custody."

"No, Ensign, you don't. Go and do something useful, leave the child alone. I will take responsibility for her."

The Lieutenant paused a moment, a strange expression crossing his face. "Sir, I don't understand."

"The creature is harmless. I will make sure the girl gets to her shuttle okay, you go about and protect us from the real bad guys."

The Captain cast a glare toward the two security officers who hesitated before deciding to take the Captain's advice and began to herd away the crowd as the Captain crouched down beside the girl.

"It's not a good thing to lie," he stated, though his voice was kind and gentle. He had dark brown hair which was graying at the temples and pale grey-blue eyes much like Tampatiaen's. Ammanalyn looked up at him, her forehead crease.

"I didn't lie," she said, softly. "Thank you for helping me, but I didn't lie."

"You did. How can you be a ‘lieutenant when your Daemon still shifts his shape? You can't be more than fifteen or sixteen."

"I'm twenty-four. Tampatiaen is just indecisive," she said.

"Is he now?" the Captain questioned, looking at the face of the fox in the girl's arm as it tilted toward him and blinked softly, flicking an ear. "Well. His indecisiveness certainly caused a bit of a racket tonight, didn't it?"

"Yes. He likes to make a scene."

"I don't think he's the only one." The Captain looked at her with a small smirk and offered a hand. "My name is River Grey. What is yours?"

"Ammanalyn Lywhyn," she said, slipping her hand into his. He took the opportunity to pull her up to a standing position. "This is Tampatiaen. Again. We are grateful for your assistance."

"Not a problem. Let's get you up and to wherever it is you need to be."

"Shuttle 14."

"Perfect. I am too," he said, grinning. "My ship is at Utopia right now getting some adjustments, so I came down to visit my youngest son at the academy. It's his first year. But now, he's kicked his old man out and it's time to get back to the ship."

She smiled. "I'm going on to meet the Galaxy. I've spent the past year in the Psych Ward at Starfleet Medical, I'm read for a bit of a change."

"I can understand," Grey agreed, laughing. He had a nice laugh and a handsome face, but Ammanalyn noticed the wedding band around his finger and chided herself for even having the inclinations that would require the look. Besides. He had a son not much younger than she was. A blush crept over her cheeks but he didn't seem to notice.

He helped her carry the offending bag and joked about the weight, that it had to weight as much as she did and so on. She laughed good maturely, though she heard Tampatiaen in his ermine form scoff softly in her ear as he rode on her shoulder.

"I'm not sure you can bring the animal aboard, 'commander," the crewman outside the dock said as they were checking in.

"I'm sure it's fine, crewman," Captain Grey stated in a firm tone and the crewman said nothing more as they boarded.

"How do you know about Daemons?" she questioned as they sat across from one another in the main cabin, Tampatiaen curling up on her lap and falling carefully asleep. She was tired too, but in public places they made it a point to sleep at different intervals. That way, one of them could always guard over the other.

"When I was on my cadet cruise, we lent assistance to a Daedryn trade ship that had run into trouble. Several of them were injured and I was helping in sickbay getting some on the field experience, I guess. I ended up falling in love with a Daedryn girl. She was my age, and her Daemon had chosen his shape early, but over the course of the next two weeks, she explained to me about the culture, particularly Daemons. Hers was a beautiful golden butterfly named Panner."

"A gold Daemon?" Ammanalyn questioned. "They're rare."

"That's what she said, but nothing compared to silver." He gestured toward Tam, whose fur was glinting in the soft lighting of the shuttle.

"Very true. There's only 24 people living now with a silver-white Daemon," Ammanalyn replied. "When I was born there were 33. A lot of them are very old and are dying now." She shrugged softly. "There's about three million gold. I knew several at the university. Gold are very intelligent."

Grey smiled at that. "Yes, she was."

"What happened? Did she die?"

"No, she's still alive, I hear from her every once in a while: she's married and has children and a good career. I couldn't understand what it was, but she said that loving a... what was the word she used? An Andaeon?"

She blushed again. "Yes, an 'andaeon' is someone who's fractured, incomplete. Many people consider it a terrible slur for other worlders, now, but there is no real other word in our lexicon. We try not to use it." She meant she and Tam. Grey seemed to recognize that and chuckled at her embarrassment.

"Yes. Well. She said that it wasn't as fulfilling because we couldn't have the spiritual connection she wanted."

"It's a problem. When Daedryn fall in love their Daemons bond, often even stronger than the people do. It's really rather helpful, actually, because your first impression is never wrong. The Daemon have another sense about those things. You don't waste your time to find out you don't get along with someone."

Grey watched her speak with intense interest, it was as though she was the only person in the world. She took a deep, motivated by that to go on. "I bet she loved you very much though," she said softly, "she probably still does. But butterflies are usually very upper class, and she was probably promised to another upper class boy when she was very young. Butterflies always have a lot they have to live up to and they're always very intent on doing that."

"That sounds like it fits her," Grey agreed, watching the young woman in front of him. "And what does it say about a person if their Daemon still changes form as an adult?"

"I have no idea," she said, "but I'm sure we could both make some guesses."

An enlisted woman came up at that moment. "Captain, we're nearing Utopia now. We're just going to go ahead and beam you over as we're running later as it is."

"That sounds good to me," Grey said, standing, and offering his hand toward her. She took it carefully with a small smile. "It was wonderful to meet you. Try to keep him from shifting in public spaces."

"I'll do my best. Thank you again, Captain."

"You're welcome. Have a safe trip."

"You too." She grinned, and watched him disappear. She sighed and nudged Tampatiaen awake. "Tam... I need to get some sleep." He blinked up at her and then wordlessly crawled down and shifted into his leopard farm, sitting calmly as she laid down over two seats, her tiny form tucked up carefully. She slept soundly, one hand fisted in Tam's soft fur, knowing the ice blue eyes of her Daemon were guarding her against the rest of the world.

----

Coming aboard the Galaxy was a relatively simple task. She went through the required security checks, explained Tampatiaen about 18 zillion times and then journeyed immediately into her office, looking around. It was perfect. Small, befitting a lieutenant junior grade, but perfect just the same. She went through the psych profiles of all her patients: there weren't as many of them as she'd thought there would be, the foot soldiers having just been transferred to the USS Hood. Of course there were a good many pilots and will all the extra room, it wouldn't surprise her if they added another squadron.

She went about sending mails and appointment notifications to each, starting with the CO, a Trill named Corran Rex, who had quite the... unique history.

"Seinfeld"
subtitled: "The post about nothing in particular, and everything in general."

By:
Lt. JG Ammanalyn Lywhyn
Ens. Jasmine Heloi

Location: Lywhyn's Office

Ammanalyn sat on the sofa with her legs pulled up underneath her, reading through psych profiles on a pad. Tampatiaen, in leopard form, lay on the sofa beside her, head in her lap, sleeping peacefully and listening to her thoughts as he did so.

The door chime sounded and Ammanalyn looked up. She knew an appointment was scheduled, but she hadn't been prepared for the pilot to actually show! Tentatively, and not daring to get her hopes up, she bid, "Come in?!"

Jasmine Heloi stood just outside the doorway to the Counselor's office deep in thought. Why she was being called for a counseling session was beyond her. Sure, she had seen battle, but she didn't think she was torn up about it. If she was, her telepathy and her soul would be going haywire on her. But, Jasmine could never understand counselors even though she came from a race that essentially were counselors every day of their lives.

Heloi sighed to herself just as she was welcomed inside the Counselor's office. Stepping through the doors, she blinked a little at the sight before her. The young woman had a leopard of some sort sleeping beside her - something that was most definitely not typical. She could feel a buzz of some sort of telepathic communion between the two, but it was impolite to listen in. "Counselor? I'm Ensign Jasmine Heloi, you wanted to see me?"

"Hi! Yes!" the girl exclaimed, jumping up. Tampatiaen, slightly surprised by the sudden move, flicked shapes quickly -- ermine, fox, then bird, flapping up to her shoulder and flicking back into ermine shape as he draped himself around her neck, claws gripping her uniform. "Come in! Please, have a seat, I didn't think you'd actually show up because no one has yet, I wanted to -- well, see, Starfleet's issuing this new edict that says each combat officer has to have a regular evaluation with a trauma specialist, that would be me, and so on before they are cleared, so I figured I would get this month's out of the way and it would help me if I could meet all my patients early besides. Thank you for coming! I appreciate it, we've had to hunt people down, which is not pleasant. Please, sit down, tell me about you, I've been rambling, I'm sorry, I can do that sometimes, sorry." She clamped her mouth shut and sat down against where she was, directing Jasmine with a hand toward the sofa in front of her own as Tampatiaen snaked down from her shoulder and with a glare as he settled onto the sofa, shifted back into leopard form, curling there, putting a few inches space between he and his person.

Jasmine blinked a little in shock as the words tumbled out of the girl's mouth. She didn't think it was possible to say as much as she had without taking a breath - she was impressed. That the leopard changed shapes to different creatures was equally startling, but she had seen a great deal in her life and was willing to go with the flow as it were. With a soft musical laugh, Jasmine settled herself on the indicated sofa, "There's not much to tell about myself, Counselor. I was born on Betazed, went to the Betazed Royal Academy for Mechanical Engineering with a minor in fine arts, acted for a few years, took correspondence classes with the Vulcan Science Academy in Physics before finally joining Starfleet. I've been a pilot ever since." There was more to it than that, let alone all the joys of being a vid star and the minor details that filled in the blanks but she wasn't entirely sure just what the Counselor wanted to know.

"Why did you decide to join Starfleet?" Ammanalyn asked. "How about we start there?"

Jasmine leaned back into her seat and smiled slightly as she thought back to her reasoning. It had been just after she decided Starfire was going in a direction that she didn't care for and she had received her Masters from the Vulcan Science Academy. "Well, a lot of factors led up to it. For about six years prior to joining Starfleet, I was the lead actress on a vid series called Starfire." She paused for a moment to check for Ammanalyn's reaction. When she got no flicker of recognition she continued, "Starfire was a very popular show for it's entire run, but they brought in a new writing staff at the beginning of the new season and they were massacring the show in my opinion. I had been working on my Masters - correspondence courses through the Vulcan Science Academy - during this time since I had had the feeling that my acting career had a time limit on it. It was a good thing I did, since I got fed up with the show and resigned. I've loved flying since I was a little girl, so I decided to join Starfleet to fly. I've been doing that ever since."

Ammanalyn had never heard of Starfire, nor was she really well versed in any of the vid series that were popular. She vaguely recognized the name from her years at the academy -- maybe her roommate had a poster or something of it -- but not enough to really be able to hold a discussion of it or to recognize an actress. "What made you become an actress?" Ammanalyn questioned. "Was it something you wanted in your childhood? Or was it something you just fell into?"

"Acting wasn't a career choice that I had started out with as a child. I wanted to be an engineer, or something similar to it so I could work on ships. But, I caught the acting bug in college. I discovered that I was pretty good at it, enough so that one of FWBN's scouts found me and asked me to try out for a few minor roles in some of the more popular vid series. Then I got offered the role in Starfire and the rest is as they say, history," Heloi shrugged slightly and smiled.

"Hm," Ammanalyn murmured. "It's funny how things like that work out." She paused. "What do you think you gained from your acting experience?"

Jasmine released a breath through her teeth, "What have I gained? Well, I've gotten a better insight into the human psyche than I ever had before. Acting is a cut-throat business, what people say and what they are really thinking or mean are generally two different things. I'm actually rather glad I'm no longer a part of that, though most of the journalists still hound me even though it's been a few years since Starfire was on the air."

"It must be a difficult adjustment," Am said, "going from an environment like that -- where it is so cut throat and you are so well known -- to an environment where you're just one of a crew of more than a thousand."

Jasmine couldn't help it, she just had to laugh at it, "You'd be surprised, Counselor. Half the crew knows exactly who I am, or was, and wants my autograph - the other half either haven't a clue about Starfire or believe that I'm trying to pretend I'm my character or something. It generally takes a few weeks before things settle down on a new assignment and I'm treated as *me* and not Adora Starfire." Heloi shrugged before continuing, "I'm actually glad of the idea of being just one of the crew. The acting business really wears down on a person, especially when you live in a spotlight."

Am smiled slightly. The woman had a nice laugh and seemed like a genuinely happy person -- for the most part, anyway. "Back home, on Daedrice, we are in a similar situation. Everyone knows who we are, but rather than being famous we're more infamous. The scholars at the college where we grew up had to keep us behind the walls so that we would be safe because some people might hurt us. They were afraid of Tampatiaen, because of his color and everything there. It's nice for me, being here, where people don't understand. I still get weird looks and no one really knows how to react to Tam, but at least we're safe, for the most part, and eventually we're accepted. It's interesting, your position, because in a way you're trying to escape yourself so that you can be yourself... do you think that desire complicates things for you? Are you sometimes afraid that you're acting a role in your own life?"

Heloi had to consider that for a long time, "I don't think of myself as acting a role in my life. I think of it as more trying to wash away my association with acting so I can truly be myself. I can't tell you how much it bugs me when 30 plus year olds come to me to ask for my autograph when I'm on duty. But there really isn't much I can do about it. It's the general fate of anyone who was on a popular TV show - you get associated with the character you play so much that some people can't get past it. They see Adora Starfire and not Jasmine Heloi when they look at me, and I do wish that wasn't the case. With my fellow pilots, at least, they treat me as me. They see my abilities, know my past, and look past it."

"That's good," Ammanalyn said, smiling girlishly. "Well. Eventually, I'm sure all the stuff will disappear. I mean, as time goes by, I'm sure most people will forget about... what is it? Starfire? So perhaps that's a comfort. It's just a matter of waiting until then I suppose. Now... you're Betazoid, right? How strong is your telepathy?"

"That's right," Jasmine nodded, "I'm ranked as a T-3, according to the T'Prii scale." The T'Prii scale ranked telepathy from ten to one, with one being a telepath that could control the thoughts of others from great distances. Jasmine's ranking was quite respectable in those regards, but she held the same regard for people as the Vulcans. She would never do anything that went against her code of ethics.

"That's impressive," Ammanalyn replied. "From reading your psych profile though, you're well in control of it. Which is also good. A personal curiosity, I suppose, but are you able to read him?" she rested a hand on Tampatiaen's side. "We've never met anyone who could, and have always been curious if he reads as a separate entity or if he's connected to me in that way too. Of course, people have a hard time reading me as well, which is curious..." Her voice trialled off. "Sorry. It's a personal fascination of mine, trying to understand the link between us. Just a curiosity."

Jasmine smiled slightly, "Well, I can try." She closed her eyes and centered herself, something that was automatic but necessary before she attempted any sort of reading. When she opened her eyes again, they were directed towards Tampatiaen. The shields she kept carefully around her mind dropped a little and she directed her telepathy towards the Daemon. A jolt of liquid fire hit her mind and she blinked a little as she compensated, such power...flowing to and from the two and now towards her. She slammed the mental door shut and shuddered a little after the contact. "All I see is that the two of you are as one. There is powerful communion between you. If I had more power, I might have been able to learn more, but as is the contact was incredibly strong."

"That's similar that everyone has," Ammanalyn said, nodding. "I just don't know why." She paused and shrugged. "Do you have any questions or concerns for me? Anything that you want me to be aware of?"

Heloi shrugged, "Not that I can think of off hand. But," she suddenly smiled warmly at the Counselor, "I'd be pleased if you'd call me Jasmine." She turned her attention towards the Daemon and echoed the smile for him, "That is, if both of you would call me Jasmine. I don't know if he talks to anyone else, or even if he can, but if ever does...he's welcome to talk to me."

Tampatiaen lifted his head at that, blinking toward Jasmine with heavy, tired eyes. "He doesn't speak to others very often. More than most, but not very often." Ammanalyn rubbed Tampatiaen's fur affectionately and he rolled over, large paws in the air as he said something in a soft, melodic language. "Oh hush," she said. "He's a smart-mouth too, people should be glad he doesn't talk to them. Jasmine it is then... I'm Am. Ammanalyn is a huge mouthful and most people can't pronounce it right anyway."

"Pleasure, Am," Jasmine replied, "Is there anything else you'd like to learn from me? I suppose those leading questions are good for something after all," that last sentence was said more for her own benefit than for the Counselor's.

"Not that I can think of right now. i'm only trying to get to know people right now, not gather a full psychological analysis."

Jasmine laughed, "Thank goodness. I'd be afraid of what that might entail." With a brief nod towards Am, she readied herself to leave, but just before she stood she turned back towards the Counselor, "If you ever feel like doing something, dinner, go see a vid, whatever...feel free to give me a call."

"That would be great," Am said, smiling, "just let me know."

"You betcha," she said, once again using one of Della's catch-phrases. "Then I'll see you later, Am." With a brief nod, the Fighter pilot stood and headed towards the door.

"The Darkness Beyond the Window"

Lt. Jeremy Savoie
Chief Helmsman

Erin Friel (APC)
Ten-Forward Manager

"Another rum and coke?" There really was no need for a reply to the question; a fresh drink was already in Erin's hand when she walked up to the table where her boyfriend sat, moodily taking in the darkness of space.

Jeremy silently accepted with only momentary distraction.

Erin looked at him. He was distant lately, more so than usual it seemed.

"You know I'd join you if I didn't have to work."

"Yeah, I know," he answered half-heartedly, returning his gaze to the darkness beyond the window.

Jeremy was a complex individual, Erin knew that even though in the year since she'd met him he'd never been overly self-revelatory. She sat in the chair across the table from him and rested her chin on her hand. "What goes on behind those blue eyes when you're sitting here staring like this?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, a slight tinge of annoyance in his voice at feeling like he was under a microscope.

"I mean this isn't the first time I've seen you sitting in Ten-Forward looking out the window. I assume you must think about something."

Jeremy took a gulp from his glass. "You're a counselor now?"

"Kinda comes with the territory," she replied. "You know, you don't have to be so abrasive all the time."

"Oh, I'm abrasive now?" he retorted, downing more of the rum and coke.

"No, not just now. All the time," Erin corrected. "And I'm not the only one who's of that opinion."

Jeremy's eyes narrowed with annoyance. Girlfriend or not, Erin's accusation wasn't appreciated. "If I'm so abrasive why do you bother dating me?"

It was a debate Erin had no intention of getting drawn into. Instead, she calmly stood up and looked at him again. "I have my reasons." She paused and pondered the man seated across the table. What it would take to really get to know him? "But did you ever wonder why you spend so much time alone staring out the windows of this ship?" she challenged rhetorically. He was like these windows, transparent only to the darkness that lay just beyond. She decided to leave him to his thoughts.

Jeremy only half-consciously watched Erin return to the bar as her words echoed in his mind against his will. He briefly recalled the encounter he had earlier with the lieutenant in the holodeck and about his cold war with Curtis Geluf. They were only two examples of the kind of relationships Savoie usually had with people. So often feeling unimportant and lost in the shuffle, he somehow felt at odds with everyone. It was a feeling his outgoing and amiable girlfriend would never understand.

~It must be nice to popular,~ he thought back at her, finishing off his drink. Then he got up and left.

"Refuge" - Part 1

[Occurs immediately after 'Deja vu: First First Contact', Part 2]

Principle Characters:
Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian
Federation Legate Kylar Curran

****

A random Corridor
USS Galaxy

A wild-eyed Romulan was roving the corridors, pale and still badly shaken by his phantasmal visions. Attracting odd stares from passing crewmen and civilians, he desperately needed to be around people but found himself unable to approach a single one. He didn't know these men and women, didn't trust them - and they certainly didn't trust him. He felt utterly isolated, unable to keep these visions to himself and unable to tell anyone else, for fear of being branded insane.

"Computer," he said in a rasping voice, pausing at an intersection. "Locate... Locate Legate Curran."

"Legate Curran is in the office of the Federation Liason, Deck 3," came the monotonous response.

Curran. Curran would understand. Savar's mind went back several years to a time when he and his ship had been briefly recalled to the homeworld, and he had met the Kelvan at a formal diplomatic function, standing in for his father. Until the horrific visions had plagued him, tr'Khellian had no idea the Legate had been stationed aboard this very vessel - only to die in these visions. The two men had gotten along, had seemed to entertain similar notions, were both serving higher powers and their own ambitions simultaneously. And from what limited amount he knew of the Kelvans, these strange, so alien creatures beneath their humanoid masks, Kylar Curran would at least treat the addled exile with some respect, and hear his tale.

Curran was calling up the records for Sub-Commander Savar and Ramir Omar. Since Mol's supposition to get involved with the Rihannsu passengers was deemed an interpretation of indicative orders, he obeyed.

Either way, he needed the distraction. Whether it be in making 'friends' with a race of untrustworthy aliens, or as keeping them enemy close, Curran didn't much care. He wasn't into making friends for personal reasons, and neither were the Rihannsu. Whatever Mol and her Starfleet cohorts were planning, they underestimated him and their guests.

Firstly, he analyzed Savar's personnel file that had been transmitted upon his arrival at Starbase 212. Ultimately, his offices door chimed as he began interim scans of the file. Annoyed, he keyed the panel that released the lock mechanisms, allowing the vistor to enter.

Sub-Commander tr'Khellian stepped gratefully into the office. A small quirk of surprise registered itself on the Legate's face, but the Romulan barely registered the discrete way he slid the PADD he was reading into a drawer, without taking his eyes from the visitor. "Jolan'tru, Legate," Savar said huskily, giving a bow, his formal manners impeccably ingrained and functioning whatever the cirucmstances.

"Jolan'tru, Sub-Commander. We finally meet." Curran stood up from behind his seat and greeted the Rihannsu in a formal manner becoming his stature. "What may I do for you today, Sub-Commander? Is your stay not comfortable?" Curran knew this Rihannsu would feel as he did, but politics reigned. Pleasantries needed to be passed first. Savar would hate this place as much as he, he knew.

Tr'Khellian frowned and blinked, hesitating. Perhaps coming here had been the wrong thing to do. Perhaps he should make an excuse and leave. "My stay is," he said, his eyes oddly unfocused, "not as comfortable as it could be, Legate." He eyed the Kelvan for a long time, and then could bare it no longer. "Legate, until tonight I was unaware you were on this vessel," he said, in his clipped, faux-English accent.

"Understandable. The latest excursions have been trying on all our parts. Coincidentally, I had just completed a conversation with my superiors about your very presence on this vessel." He rounded the oaken desk to stand alongside the taller Rihannsu. "I have been told your talents are going to be required on this upcoming mission. Do you have any knowledge of this?" Something bothered him about this Romulan. Something.. familiar.

The next mission? For a moment the Romulan's sharp mind was intrigued, but he forced himself to put that aside - his mind was still coruscated with images of his own death. "Legate," the Sub-Commander said, raising a hand. "The reason I knew you were onboard is that..." he trailed off. How in the name of the Arch-Element could he put this? It was not a dream. The ache in his head and his ribcage told him that, the taste of blood in his mouth.

"I have had a very.. disturbing.. vision, Legate," tr'Khellian eventually managed. "A vision of our deaths."

This piqued the Kelvan's curiousity. "Tell me about this vision. Did it involve the destruction of the Galaxy on Quentin's surface?"

Savar's eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly, whether with shock or relief it was impossible to tell. "Then you have seen it too?" he asked, in a hoarse whisper.

"No, I have not seen it, but I know of it." He gestured towards the smaller version of an Observational Lounge that was housed in his offices. The one used for delegations such as Princess DevoraH's when the Galaxy escorted her to lanjep early the previous year. "Please, sit, and tell me more of this."

As Savar warily passed into the lounge, keeping a keen eye out for sudden movement on the Kelvan's part, Curran hesitated. "You must forgive me, Sub-Commander, but you seem familiar to me. Have we met, previously?"

"On ch'Rihan," the Romulan explained, taking a seat. He exhaled with relief, still feeling queasy and dehydrated, but now relieved mentally: he was not mad; others had shared his vision.

He glanced towards the Kelvan as he took a seat at the opposite side of the table, unsure of whether to take offence at the other man's lapse of memory. But then, he told himself, remembering the cross-cultural awareness classes he had been obliged to take upon arrival in the Federation, it was understandable. The Kelvan had met many Rihannsu; Curran was the only Kelvan Savar had ever met. In addition, he remembered being told that to retain humanoid shape required great concentration for the Kelvans, and perhaps this affected their memories. And besides that, the Romulans had long and efficient powers and recollection.

"My vessel had been recalled for shoreleave at the homeworld. I attended a diplomatic function at the Senate, in place of my father. Senator tr'Khellian." He said this pointedly, for though his father had disowned him, he still deserved fealty and respect, and was the leader of a powerful faction on the Senate floor. Curran would at least have to pretend to remember the Senator.

"Ah, yes, I remember you father. Shrewd negotiator. Did he ever accomplish the tasks he laid down on the Rihannsu agenda for that session?"

"He was moderately successful," tr'Khellian said, inclining his head. "A number of land reforms and new military programmes were pushed through but at some cost. In particular he and his friends were made to support some rather.. questionable appointments." The sour look on Savar's face made it clear that the trade-off had been only marginally beneficial in his opinion. In particular, that session of the Senate had seen the rise of the Omar family to full prominence, with the selection of an Ambassador to the Federation and the seemingly inexorable rise of the House's leader through the ranks of the Tal Shiar. It was truly disgraceful the way two-bit merchant clans were able to horde lucrative posts whilst ancient aristocratic families had to squabble amongst themselves to achieve minor office. Money, not blood, was becoming a deciding force in the Empire, a revolting prospect.

From the Romulan's expression of faint derision, this was not a selection that Savar found favourable. But due to familial ties on ch'Rihan, and the terse responses when it came to Savar divulging information of a personal nature, Curran elected not to pursue the matter further. There would be plenty of time to discuss personal issues later. Too much too soon would breed distrust at the immediate apparent interest Kylar would take in Savar.

"Ch'Rihan is a most favourable world. I sometimes wonder what would have occurred if I had remained at the embassy during the Reman revolt." His head suddenly reared out flashes of imagery of a desolate world, scorching heat, and pleasant oceans. So close to Kelva it seemed. If Kelva II ever did accomplish their generational goals, they would make ch'Rihan their next colonized world, if the Rihannsu elected not to align themselves with the Kelvans, that is.

"In your visions, have you seen the death of myself, or any scenes involving Hydrans?"

Savar's eyes narrowed at the mention of the Reman revolt, and the Legate's equivocal tone. Just what *would* the Legate have done? Found a new accommodation with the Remans, perhaps that was what he was musing, treacherous creature? Savar for one knew precisely what would have occurred had the Kelvan remained. The Federation Legate would have been immediately put to death by Shinzon's forces. He and the Remans wanted no diplomatic ties with the Federation, only war and destruction. The Legate's mention of the rebellion stirred up unpleasant emotions in the Rihannsu, but he forced himself to put these thoughts aside.

"I saw as if through my own eyes," tr'Khellian explained, frowning. "I was powerless, as if trapped inside a body I did not control, the actions were mine but.." He shook his head. "You were beamed to the surface with the Risian Ambassador and a human female. As you materialised on the surface, a huge explosion ravaged the surface. It was utterly destroyed." His eyes bored into the Kelvan's. "Why do you mention the Hydrans?" he demanded.

Curran resisted the human temptation to stroke his beard. He was tiring more easily lately, else that failing would never haved risen to the surface. He felt the pain crawling in, under, over his skin; he grew agitated, but fought the nefarious behaviour down. "What are your government's dealings with the Hydrans, Sub-Commander?" His voice raised in pitch to a clipped, more stable tone.

"It is hardly my place to speak for my government, Legate," he replied. The dance began.

"I'm not asking for you to represent your government, Sub-Commander." Kylar pulled out the seat at the head of the table. In a position where he could see all angles of the room, and place himn in an authoritative stance. He would be in control here, not the Romulan.

"I'm asking what you know of your government's position on the Hydrans. Have there been dealings of both a profitable and foul nature?" He clasped his hands together. The feeling of ants intensified. He held back.

"I know nothing of our dealings with the Hydrans, Legate," Savar lied. He knew not why Curran had taken such an interest in the Hydrans, but nor was he in a position to spar with the diplomat. In normal circumstances he would perhaps have dispensed a few crumbs of misinformation in return for enough misinformation to piece together something approaching the truth - but a suddenly throbbing pain in his right temple reminded him of why he had come here in the first place.

Kylar held the silence between them for several long moments. No one would make the first move towards releasing information. "So, then, Sub-Commander, what do you think I can accomplish for you, then?"

"What were these visions?" Savar asked, rubbing his right temple. "Who else has experienced them, and what do they have to do with the Hydrans?"

"Classified. I cannot divulge medical information to personnel who do not have the security clearance. What would you do with such information if I were to give it to you?" He rubbed his hands. "As to what they were, I can tell you enough that they are temporal in nature. The events *did* occur, but in an alternate timeline. I suggest you..." He fought a wry perk up of the mouth in a smile, "visit one of our counselors to put your visions on record for when Temporal Investigations arrive." He knew this would be an insult to the Romulan, but if it were advantageous to take the officer off his agenda in some fashion, he would utiliize it. He neglected to mention that he could easily go to Sickbay and have a neural analyzer record the medical aspect of it. He'd heard of memory ingram psionic imagers, where memories could be purged for viewing, but they failed to focus on specifics.

On second thought, he would tell the Romulan of this choice. And so he did.

"You will do nothing of the sort, Curran," tr'Khellian stated imperiously, his eyes flashing with anger at the insulting, demeaning way this slimy, pox-ridden Kelvan had dared to address him. He immediately rose ot his feet, glaring down at the shorter man. "I ought to have known better than to come here, to be subject to the snide, plebeian comments of a bitter and twisted refugee," he stated contemptuously, and started to move towards the exit.

"Refuge" - Part 2

[Occurs immediately after 'Deja vu: First First Contact', Part 2]

Principle Characters:
Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian
Federation Legate Kylar Curran

****

Diplomatic Offices
Deck 3
USS Galaxy

"I am a refugee, Romulan?" Curran deliberately used the derisive human term. "I fail to see how you are not a refugee yourself. Do you yourself have the option of returning to your original posting? What brought about your assignment here?"

"That," he replied sharply, turning on his heel and fixing the Kelvan with a piercing gaze, "is none of your concern. Yes, I was reassigned. Refugees run from forces beyond their control. I did not flee," the Rihannsu spat, viciously. "I am no refugee."

"None of my concern, yet you can set your opinions about my species? What gives you the right to dictate moral grounds with me?" Curran gracefully sttod up, placing both palms on the table. His blood was on fire. "You keep an entire species under your thumb for slavery purposes. You give them no rein, no freedom, no purpose to their lives except to dig rocks out fo the ground for your decrepit warships! Just be lucky the Remans did not win their freedom, for your own mistakes in subjugating them in the past would have been your undoing. My world was dying, and we set out to create a new home. You, the mighty Romulan species, left Vulcan because you couldn't deal with their sanctimonious overtures to peace. Vulcan wasn't dying, you just couldn't deal with it! You are a refugee, Sub-Commander, whether you like it or not. Worse yet, you are an outcast from your own society of refugees! You weren't re-assigned, you were no longer wanted."

"The only thing worse than your manners, Legate," Savar said through gritted teeth, his eyes blazing with fury, his lips white with rage, "is your pathetic lack of understanding of my people's history. And me." He took a step back towards the table, his eyes never flinching from the burning glare he was directing at the Kelvan's insolent face. "You have no right to preach at me, 'Legate', with your people's mottled past. A great galactic empire," he said, sarcasm dripping from every word, "broken and ravaged by a bit of radiation, and you go crawling in rags to the Federation!"

He sneered at the diplomat, a man grown flabby from too much time behind a desk, shuffling PADDs. Savar imagined the Kelvan's true, uglier form, and felt nauseous. "For your information, Curran, the very reason I was reassigned was because *I* agree with *you*." He said it in such a way that self-disgust was implied. "We are wrong to oppress the Remans. And other lesser species. We cannot build a stable empire by creating fermenting pockets of resistance. And yes, for that, I was cast out." His eyes and voice betrayed his bitterness. "So do not presume to lecture me on the polity of my Empire, or the legacy of the Declared."

"And you are the epitomy of polite manners, Sub Commander? Insulting my race, degrading other species... that is the subject of good graces at the dinner table?" Curran waved his hands up in the air. "Oh, but Commander, the Terran palates are so laughable! No one can stand up to our elusive standards!" Curran danced a little shrug completely out of character for his species, but as emphasis for the mighty Romulan empire. "For the glory of the Empire!" He slammed his hands down on the table, jarring it. His eyes grew cold.

"I have to put up with these human animals for the better part of my existence. These, odorous, filthy creatures that think themselves so much better than the rest of the universe. They think like you think. That they 'saved' us. They, like you, are wrong. You have no clue as to my people's history. We are a military machine, like your own, but we use all resources to our benefit. And don't think we haven't ceased that aspect just because we are in Federation territory. All the better position for expansionism, don't you think? "

The lights suddenly dazzled before his eyes, and a roar grew in his ears. Images pushed and tussled their way through his thoughts. Of Dallas, a body on a cold ceramic floor, a growl deep in the pit of his stomach. He felt the animal humanoid rise within ,and it disgusted him. "I have to live in this shell of a human in order for them to trust me, and now I fight their irrational logics and emotions every day. Don't push me, Sub Commander. I *will* push back."

Tr'Khellian peered down at the Kelvan with a mixture of condescension and pity in his eyes, and shook his head. How deluded he was, a servant of the Federation and yet, dead and cold inside, desiring the overthrow of his masters. And did he seriously believe it possible? A band of ragtag asylum seekers, to overthrow the Federation? The very idea was idiotic, and, the Reman Rebellion not withstanding, pitiful indeed.

And yet the man was proud, and defiantly defensive of what little dignity he and his ilk possessed. For a brief moment he was touched by the monstrous reality Kylar Curran faced on a daily basis - he was being eaten away by hatred and resentment from within. Savar knew nothing of the torture he faced in assuming human form, but could sympathise with the comment about the stench issuing from humans and their kind.

And yet here they were, two outsiders, surrounded by men and women so foreign and alien, tearing strips off each other. It was so utterly futile. And Curran had been right about one thing - he ought to have risen about the Kelvan's damnable insolence, instead of being brought down to his level to trade invectives. Shaking his head once more, he again turned towards the door.

"Regardless of our political distates, Sub-Commander, we are two of a kind. Far away from our peoples and governments, we have no dependents, no allies. Keep that in mind. As much as you hate my kind for whatever reasons you harbor, I'm the closest you have to an alliance on board this ship." He took a deep breath. "Now, if you don't mind, I would like it if you could be forthcoming on what I should expect from Ambassador Omar."

Tr'Khellian looked back to Curran with an incredulous expression on his washed-out features. "Legate," he said, in an even tone, "I do wonder how you hold such a position, if insults and provocation is your standard tactic for attempting to form an alliance."

"I don't believe in playing games, Sub Commander. I endeavour to get answers and provide solutions as efficently as possible with the utmost truths. Juxtaposing pleasantries when they have nothing whatsoever to do with the matter at hand is a waste of time. Regardless of your opinions on my abilities, I am here on this starship - this position of responsibility - and only those with impeccable ratings are assigned to these starships."

The Rihannsu lifted his eyebrows and shook his head. This was not the polished and professional diplomat he had met on ch'Rihan. He wondered what had happened in the last few years to provoke such a change in the man - perhaps the strain of living as a human was destroying his judgement. Or perhaps.. perhaps Curran, too, had witnessed fiery visions of his own destruction. "You spent time on ch'Rihan, Legate Curran," tr'Khellian reminded him. "You ought to know that what you call 'pleasantries' are marks of respect among my people. I will brook no insult from anyone."

"At the onset of conversation, Sub-Coimmander. Not a dance of words around issues. No need for maneuvering here, and as you can see, there are no Rihannsu present. You must learn to adapt, as we all have. I do not intend to insult, but you obviously have not spent much time with my people to truly understand us."

Savar stood there for a moment, looking at the Legate. For someone who had spent an extended period on the Rihannsu homeworld, he displayed a remarkable lack of understanding. What Curran said was true, he understood next to nothing of the Kelvans, but what, in reality, did he need to know? He was not soliciting Curran's assistance, rather the reverse. And although Savar had met him blow for blow in their fiery exchange, it had been the Kelvan's disgraceful suggestion of invasive medical techniques which had begun it. "If you desire my assistance, Legate," he said, evenly, raising his chin, "I expect an apology."

An apology for what, Sub-Commander? It is you that came here looking for assistance. I am not one to cede to the challenger. There are others who have volunteered to have their memories recorded. You are only one of over a thousand. Forgive me for asking, but why are yours more important than any other of the Bridge crews?" As much as the Legate wanted access to the Romulans' neural net of electrical pulses that formed knowledge, he will not give up his advantage for it. He still have Ramir Omar as an option. "I gave you options to help relieve you of your symptoms in a search for answers. It is ultimately up to you if you would like to pursue them or not."

"You were callous and insulting, Curran," the Romulan snapped, "and you know that full well. I will not submit to your memory scanning devices and nor do I require 'counselling' - and do not pretend your suggestions were not malicious."

"You are a Rihannsu, Sub-Commander. There has been over 200 years of conflict with your species. Just as Lt. Commander Worf was the first of his kind on Starfleet vessels, so are you. He faced adversity, same as you and I. It is unforgiving behaviour, yes, but trust does not come easy to old foes. You of all people should realize that. You can think whatever you like, but they are only thoughts. You have no proof I am being malicious in any way. I fail to see what it is you desire from me since your arrival in my offices." He bit back any further remarks that could be misconstrued in the better side of valour.

And there, Curran had him. He had been on the edge of desperation, having seen his own destruction in vivid recollection, and he sought out the one person he knew of old, however vaguely. Looking back, he was not even sure of why he had come here himself. His confusion had brought him here, but, as usual, his instincts had been proven right - it had been a mistake. "Clearly," tr'Khellian said, with genuine weariness, "this has not been the most productive of exchanges, Legate. Perhaps we can put this.. unpleasantness behind us." He worded his sentence carefully, in that time-honoured Rihannsu tradition of attempting to allow both parties to stand down with neither losing face.

"Agreed. Let us work together in the face of the adversity and barriers placed before us on the vessel to better our existence on it." He extended his arm and placed it against his breast, fist upraised to his shoulder in centuris old Rihannsu salute of honour. He only slightly bowed his head, but not so far he could not keep an alert eye on his companion.

Tr'Khellian was surprised at this sudden gesture, but automatically returned it. A strange alliance had just been formed, between two refugees, two thorny and angry men who every day cursed their fate. Their fates had thrown them together, nothing more - no bond of fealty or love here - but perhaps, the Rihannsu conceded, this relationship could be of some worth.

"Excellent, Sub-Commander. Now I have a use for this object." Kylar passed to the left of the Rihannsu and slid open an opaque panel. Reaching in, he retrieved a flask of blue liquid. Alcohol was not at all agreeable with him, but it might ease the situation. "Romulan Ale. Circa, 2366. Let us drop our predispositions and join in tales of our worlds histories to better understand one another?" He offered the bottle as he retrieved two flutes.

Kylar nodded at the expression of permission on Savar's part. "I realize that this Ale is as common as water on your world, but unfortunately, your personnel file does not reveal that aspect of your profile, Sub-Commander." As the glass filled to the level of proper attitude, he proffered the flute to him as he lifted his own. "To a profitable relationship. May our enemies feel the fires of our joined alliance in fear of the superior species."

If tr'Khellian felt any surprise at this unusual toast, he did not permit his face to express it. Instead he lifted the glass, and sipped at the ale. Curran then followed him. The ale was rather good, clearly a superior brew and not some peasant concoction. The Rihannsu smiled, but his keen powers of observation noted that the Kelvan had taken only the tiniest sip. "You have been perusing my record then, Legate?" he noted, evenly.

"To not peruse your record would be folly, Sub-Commander, don't you agree?" He set the glass down lightly on the table. "What can you tell me of Ambassador Omar. What am I to expect from him?"

Again, this probing about Omar. After his outbursts, Curran was back to trying to be manipulative. If he thought he had won Savar over with his adherence to Rihannsu protocol, he was mistaken. Beneath the now serene exterior, Sub-Commander tr'Khellian was now deeply suspicious of the Legate's motives and the Hydran connection.

"Ambassador Omar is from a merchant clan," Savar said, not bothering to disguise his disdain. "I understand his family made their money through some lucrative investments in the alcoholic beverage industries. There are rumours about the other sources of their wealth." He sipped at the ale again, his suspicious mind noting that if Curran expected the alcohol to loosen his tongue, it would not. "His family bribed its way into the Senate only two generations ago. They represent a city several hundred kilometres north of the Capitol."

The Exchange Officer set his glass down. "Since gaining a seat on the Senate, the clan has been insidious in consolidating its position. Omar's father, despite lacking any noticeable military qualifications, was at last reckoning doing very well. He was nominally in command of the operation to mop up the remaining rebels on ch'Havran. Above all else they are motivated by material greed. Their lust for high office is merely to serve that end."

"Then why is he here on the USS Galaxy? Surely he must have embarassed someone, else he'd be stationed on Earth or a member world within a days flight from Terra. Yet he is on board a ship with no real bearing in the diplomatic community. Why?" Curran pondered the thought.

"Omar was appointed as the Rihannsu diplomatic attache at DS9 for the duration of the Dominion War," Savar reminded him, picking up his glass again, and giving the Legate an inquiring look in the direction of his untouched beverage. "When the War ended, Omar's mission was technically over. I would speculate that the only reason he has not yet been recalled is that the Omar clan would be strengthened by his return to the floor of the Senate. Which is naturally unacceptable."

"It would be difficult to explain his posting here, though. It makes little sense." He lifted his flute to take a miniscule sip of the firey liquid. It burned as it made its way to his stomach, which in turn warmed it. He felt a touch woozy. It would not do for his own mouth to start pouring forth the secrets of the Federation and Kelvan Empire like some sieve. "Did you see any of the war, Sub-Commander?"

Tr'Khellian carefully noted the way Curran's eyes seemed to almost blur as he swallowed the ale. Interesting. "All of my campaigns have been fought on the far side of the Empire," he replied, simply.

"Far side? With whom?" The chronometer on the back wall dictated Beta shift was coming to an end. Night would fall soon on the starship.

"There will always be those who stand in the way of progress, Legate," tr'Khellian smiled. Like Curran he was not about to let the secrets of the Declared fall from his lips. The extent of the Romulan Star Empire was not known in the Federation and next to no stellar maps were available beyond the space between the Neutral Zone and the region around the Romulus system. Savar was content to maintain that status quo.

"All too true, Sub-Commander, but some progress has been made here, elst we wouldn't be sitting here on this starship discussing politics over ale without guards or Starfleet present, do you agree?"

Savar inclined his head in an equivocal gesture which could be read as the observer desired. There was a long pause. Savar took a draft of ale. "These visions, Legate, if I may return to them. You said earlier they were experiences from an alternate timeline?"

"Yes. Of a series of events beginning with my beamdown to the planet's surface with Counselor Dallas and Ambassador Galali."

"I do not understand," tr'Khellian shook his head. "How is it I have memories of events that did not happen?"

"I am not a scientist, Sub-Commander, but I suspect the wormhole activity in the area has something to do with it. I do not know. I only know that it happened, and that it is remembered by hundreds on board this ship, and perhaps beyond to the others that also participated in this endeavour."

Tr'Khellian nodded, peering into the glassy blue of his ale. He would investigate this further by speaking with people who *were* scientists. He was considerably less shaken-up now than an hour ago, but the images had been so real, and his death so vivid, that he felt the need to understand the phenomenon fully before he could move on.

"I suspect it is a mind-numbing experience. To have two sets of memories converge, is it not?" Kylar swirled the liquids in his glass thoughtfully. "I will share one thing with you, but it must remain confidential until further evidence is discovered. Maybe your contacts in the Empire could learn something for us? It would benefit both our governments, I believe." Toss the pebble in the lake and see how far the ripples go.

"Maybe."

Kylar took a deep breath and exhaled. "I cannot inform you as to the source of my information, but take this as you will." He took a large mouthful of ale, swirled it in his mouth to enhance the aroma and swallowed. It rent through his sytem like a degreaser. His face flushed, and he grew lightheaded. "The Hydrans are making efforts to cause strife between the Federation and the Rihannsu Stellar Empire. There have been attacks along the border, civilian vessels gone missing. I do not have access to any intelligence reports from your side of the Neutral Zone - I suspect the Federation has not been able to insert any operatives successfully - but ther have most likely been reports from your side as well. I would be curious to know if this is occurring on your side if at all possible."

Savar resisted the temptation to raise his eyebrows at Curran's expression as he merely sipped at the ale. "I will see if I can contact anyone who might know something about these infringements, Legate," he said. A troubled frown crossed his brow. Perhaps, then, the reports were true. Long-range listening posts along the Hydran border and stealth probes sent into Hydran space had been showing renewed activity for the last ten months. The interpretation of the data, left to intelligence analysts, had been inconclusive. Senator tr'Khellian, who had access to the data as Chair of the Standing Committee for Military Planning, had opined privately that the deployments looked like the culmination of a large-scale shipbuilding programme.

"I look forward to the response," Curran stated.

There was a long pause. Both men were now sufficiently suspicious of each other for the conversation to have dried up. Tr'Khellian ended the silence by draining his glass and standing. Giving a short bow, he signalled his intention to depart. "Jolan'tru, Legate."

"Jolan'tru, Sub-Commander." The Kelvan returned the bow, and watched the Rihannsu leave, with narrowed eyes.

Deal with the Devil

“Deal With The Devil”

Primary Characters:
Sir Faliqur Amakiir, LG Gray Elf Paladin/Ranger of Mayaheine (Cassius Henderson)
Friar Tuckenrohl, NG High Elf Cleric of Correlon Larethian (Curtis Geluf)
Alexander Darkraven, N Human Fighter/Rogue (Saladin Bolivar)
Marquez Silvermane, CG Human Fighter of Fharlanghn (James Corgan)
Eclaviadra, N Drow Elf Rogue/Wizard (Ahdjiia D'Tinya)
Andrew of Atlantica, N Human Rogue (Klaus Fienberg)
Valeska the Charming, CN High Elf Enchanter (Ella Grey)
Baldran Badaxe, LG Dwarf Fighter/Cleric of Moradin (Cutter Kara'nin)
Bolgrim Badaxe, CG Dwarf Fighter/Sorcerer (Arkedi Nitel'rajek)
Sasha Amakiiran, N Half Gray Elf Ranger/Rogue (Rima Pennington)

****

Dungeons of Androthor
Level 7
Overlook

Faliqur Amakiir, Gray Elven Knight of the Vigilant Soul lead them out onto the overlook, crouching down behind the stagmites that jutted up at the edge of the cliff face that overlooked the room. Before he could tell the group to be quite, it was taken care of by his priestly companion.

“Silence helps as well as it hinders,” Friar Tuckenrohl shushed the rest of the party as he began to look over his own scroll of the spell Silence. They had spent the better part of the last two days crunching their way down through this dungeon, built as a private refuge of the exiled High Mage Androthor the Traitorous, Consorter with Fiends. Consorter with fiends he was indeed, Tuck thought, as the dungeon had been filled with nothing but infernal creatures and burning traps.

“Eclaviadra, can you climb up to that ledge up there and get a better look?” Faliqur asked. Their view was blocked from here by a large rock formation directly ahead of them. Next to them however was a short, ten foot vertical climb up to another overlook that should be clear.

“Of course,” Eclaviadra smiled, and headed over to the wall to begin climbing. The magic was getting close now. She could feel it. A predatory sense in her was tingling. And as long as Faliqur kept getting her closer to the magic, she’d forget the old racial hatreds... And the fact that he kept having his little half sister dog her every step.

“Right, Sasha, go with her,” Faliqur said, sending his half-human sister off to watch the Drow. He didn’t trust the other woman, even though his divine granted sense of character told him that he had little to fear. There was something odd about it all that was setting off his mortal instincts.

“Of course,” Sasha replied, imitating Eclaviadra’s ingratiating tone. If Faliqur thought he didn’t trust her, Sasha downright hated the woman. Of course, Sasha didn’t like many people. Her brother ranked well, but only because he took care of her. So did Friar Tuckenrohl, her brother’s spiritual guide, but only for the same reason, and because she liked riddles.

Alexander Darkraven watched Eclaviadra scramble nimbly up the rocks. Now there was an attractive and exotic young woman, the bored mercenary scout thought to himself, waiting for the next move.

A few moments later, Sasha popped her head back over the overlook’s ledge, “Hey, we can see up here, and there’s a way down from up here. Androthor has summoned a powerful devil of some sort. Eclaviadra is consulting her book, trying to figure out what it is... Cornugon. He’s bargaining with it now. There’s another mage in the room, and a bunch of ogres.”

“Ascend, we must, so that we may descend. Rise up, noble comrades,” Friar Tuckenrohl lead them to the wall and he and Marquez Silvermane, the former militia sergeant, helped them one by one climb up the wall. Faliqur could have sworn he saw the Enchanter, Valeska, giving Marquez and Tuckenrohl and eyefull of long silky thigh as she climbed. He sighed, then followed her up.

When they were all gathered at the top, Faliqur looked around, and saw Eclaviadra motioning for him to look over the edge of the overhand. Crouching behind a stalactite, Faliqur instantly knew that Eclaviadra and Saha were righ... the summoning was complete, and that they were too late to prevent the release of Brythvannar into the world. But they could combat the Cornugon, and the evil mage who had summoned him.

“Excuse me, oh Knight Kommandant Faliqur, but the troops are getting a mite hungry...”

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 2
Main Conference

Cassius Henderson’s looked up from behind the Dungeons & Dragons Monster Manual Version 17, where he was preparion the Cornugon, or horned devil, known as Brythvannar. “Oh. Sure. Let’s take a five minute break and open up some more of the pizza. The galley really did a good job on that,” he replied to Klaus Feinbergs out of character statement.

“Amen,” Curtis Geluf laughed, reaching behind him to pick up a box of pizza to place at one end of the table, “I was running out of ideas for cryptic sayings.” His priest, Tuckenrohl, refused to speak unless he could say something cryptic or rote with wisdom.

“See now, Arku,” Cutter Kara’nin turned to Arkedi Nitel’rajek, who had dragged him to the Galaxy’s pre-mission game, “If you’d let me pick the Avariel this time, I’d have had wings and I wouldn’t have nearly fallen on that climb.”

“Ah, but what fun would that have been, Cutter?” Arkedi replied, “I adopted the errant Badaxe brothers because they were as landbound as possible, as the races go. What better way to explore the perspective of a landbound people?”

“I guess so,” Cutter grumbled, though it was nice to be able to relax with his friend, away from the pressures of Arkedi’s mating with Zan.

“See, told you guys this would be f***ing great!” James Corgan said to Ahdjiia D’Tinya, who he’d noticed had been really getting into it, and Saladin Bolivar, who she’d brought along. Corgan had suggested to his staff that some of them come, though only D’Tinya showed up.

“Yeah. I’m having fun. And this last encounter looks like it’s going to be good,” D’Tinya smiled, and Bolivar nodded in his usual way, though he was busy analyzing the best way for him to use his character against the wizards, ogres and devil that they would soon be facing.

Ella rolled her eyes. She was still fuming over her fight with Victor. But at least some of the minions in Cass’ campaign has proved pliable to her character’s will. Valeska the Enchanter. Cass had a sense of humor after all, it seemed. She’d had him generate the character, and it did fit her.

Cassius finished what he was doing and turned to Rima Pennington, “Having fun yet?” he asked, “You seem to be picking up the game pretty well.” She’d been somewhat startled waking up on his couch, but after a brief explanation, she’d settled down and agreed to come to the game.

“Yes, Cass, I’m having fun,” she had to admit, “I guess you were right. Don’t think that this means I’m feeling at all comfortable yetm though. All of this right now. Too much for me.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he replied, not exactly knowing except that she generally meant about their memories of the Quentin incident, “I’m not entirely comfortable with them yet. But you have to let me back into the office tommorrow. I gave you your grace period.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, a little resentfully. She still didn’t want to admit what had happened, and really was having a hard time wrapping her mind around it. Temporal anomalies confused the energy out of her. “Pizza?”

“Sure,” he said, “Sausage?”

“Sure,” she replied, passing him a piece. They ate in relative silence for a moment, with Cassius fielding a few questions about the game.

A few minutes later, Henderson decided that everyone was ready to go again. “Everyone ready to finish this one off?”

A chorus of affirmatives signaled that the Band of Starlight Avengers was back in action.

****

Dungeons of Androthor
Level 8
Summoning Pit

... Roughly an hour later, the fight was going badly for Androthor. Just as Jhenna Hadrothakrin had begun to cast her own devil summoning ritual, she’d been hit by an arrow from Sasha Amakiiran’s Oathbow, causing her to fall and damage her summoning circle. Androthor, enraged, had broken his summoning circle on purpose, ordering Brythvannar to attack the offending Starlight Avengers. His Ogre guards rushed into battle as well.

It had been one sided where the ogres were concerned, especially after Valeska had taken control of seven of them and sent them to battle the summoned cornugon, which they had fared little better against. Jhenna and Sasha traded blows from the pit and the overlook, bow against spell, with Sasha gradually gaining the upper hand.

The Badaxe brothers joined hands and charged High Mage Androthor, trying to knock the aged wizard over. Androthor took to the air, quickly escaping the Badaxe brothers. Not to be outdone, the brothers had both followed him up, using Fly and Wind Walk.

Brythvannar, however, had wrecked havok upon the assembled members of the Starlight Avengers. Tuckenrohl found that wounds enflicted by the devil bled unnaturally profusely and were exceedingly hard to heal. He’d barely saved Marquez Silvermane the first time she’d gone down in combat with Brythvannar, swinging her sword, and once he’d dragged her back, healed her unconsious body, and gotten her back into the fight, Andrew of Atlantica had been thrown halfway across the summoning hall. Finally the three flying creatures spells wore off and they floated back to the ground, Baldran swiping with is warhammer as they came. Suddenly he was swept off his feat and away from combat as Androthor used a spell he’d never seen before to throw him up onto the overlook with Sasha Amakiiran, who quickly requested healing as she cast arrows into the fight below.

Faliqur ducked a blow from Brythvannar, jabbed his holy sword into the devil, the only blade in the room that could best the devil’s regenerative abilities, and spun to dodge another blow, jabbing again, deep into the devil’s flank.

Eclaviadra cast a lightning bolt at Jhenna, driving the enemy mage backwards, and causing one of Sasha’s arrows to miss. From above, Sasha swore and redrew, firing her second shot which slammed through the mages chest, killing her outright. Jhenna fell, eliminating one threat. Only Androthor and Brythvannar remained.

Brythvannar’s movements were beginning to become labored, especially as Alexander Darkraven and the clerical Badaxe drove their respective short sword and hammer home with a force that rocked the great warrior of the pit.

Sweeping with his tail, he slashed half of the Starflight Avengers, including Faliqur, then fell forward onto the group, trying to crush them in his dying moments. As Faliqur rolled out of the way from his position at the edge, he heard the Avengers scattering, and Andrew of Atlantica, who had just reentered the battle, shriek.

“AAAAIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!”

Breathing heavily, Faliqur dragged himself to his feet. Andrew had been crushed beneath the fallen devil, his daggers piercing upward. Tuckenrohl and some of the others were pulling at the corpse, trying free their comrade. It was almost comical. Faliqur staggered backwards, holding his sword alone, his shield long gone, looking for Androthor.

The mage was trying to teleport. He could see the blue haze forming around him. Faliqur summoned up enough strength to slam himself bodily into the mage, but it wasn’t enough to knock him over, or even break his concentration. Androthor grinned wickedly as the blue haze deepened, and he was gone. Safe to fight another day.

Faliqur pulled of his helmet and stood, casting it into the dirt and walking back to the fallen devil, ready to help Andrew out of his perdicament.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 2
Main Conference

Once they’d finished releasing their erstwhile comrade, dividing the considerably treasure and equipment that was to be had, Cassius finished the session. “So Lord High Mage Androthor the Betrayor has escaped your clutches. Does the Band of Starlight Avengers rest in their pursuit? Somehow I doubt it? We’ll see about that though. I’ll hold another session when I have enough material. Feel free to suggest things now that you know more about the game. I’ve uploaded the books to the ship’s computer.”

As the group broke up, Pennington helped him clear the minatures and books. “Well, that was nice. I do feel a little more relaxed. How long are we stuck at Wolf 359?”

“Long enough for you and I do some J-tube running tommorrow morning up at the cannon before the crews get in. I want to make sure everything is ready and take some readings before they come in and tear it all up,” Henderson said, “Longer really, but that’s our part. We’re here for a week to two week’s refits.”

“Isn’t Nimitz based at Wolf 359?” Pennington asked, pocketing the minature that they’d used to represent Faliqur Amakiir’s half-elven half-sister, Sasha Amakiiran.

“Yes. It and the USS Pershing,” Henderson nodded, “We’ve made one hell of a life here, Rima. Let’s hope it’s not quite time to pay the piper.”

~What?~ she thought, not understanding him at all, ~I didn’t get that... Forget it.~

"ZZZOOONNNKKK! SSSHHHEEEWWZZZ!!!"

by Stash

With Ensign Zeke Wikkins
(Security)

and
Ensign Simon Crumbley,
Technician

Location: The Bedroom

As he slept, Simon Crumbley smiled.

For in his dreams, there was justice in the universe.

In his dreams, he sat in his spacious ready room aboard the USS GALAXY, gazing out the oversized viewport at the streaking stars as the Federation's flagship soared gracefully through space, enroute to thier next epic first encounter with unknown lifeforms and stellar phenomanon - charting thier path into the Final Frontier while etching the name Captain Simon Crumbley alongside such explorers as Archer and Kirk.

In his dreams, he straightened his Captain's pips while he gazed at the transcript of the newly formed peace treaty that he had just brokered, formally bringing both the Klingons and Dominion into the Federation, singlehandedly ceasing decades of hostility and conflict.

In his dreams, his wife Dr. Beverly Crusher and thier children were back home tending to his palacial estate, waiting faithfully for his truimphant return.

In his dreams, he smiled at the head of Ensign Zeke Wikkins - mounted upon his office wall like a hunting trophy of old. His smile then broadened as Commander Rebecca Von Ernst entered his office, swathed in the sheerest of fabrics that she peeled off at his command.

In his dreams, she slithered nude across his desk top - eager to please the newly promoted Captain. He would close his eyes in anticipation as he felt her place her warm hands upon his cheeks...as she leaned foreward...her full red lips just about to make contact with his own....

Then he was yanked awake by what sounded like the mating call of a Yannak load beast!

"ZZZZZZOOOONNNNNKKKKK!!!! SSSHHHHEEEEWWWWZZZZZ!!!!!!"

Simon bolted upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What in the name of Gates?!?" he exclaimed thinking the ship had run aground.

He strained his ears, searching for the noise in the darkened room, yet found nothing. Thinking perhaps he was imagining things - a nightmare no doubt brought on by that overgrown lummox of a roommate - he laid back down...

...closed his eyes....

...and...

"ZZZZZZOOOOONNNNKKKKKK!!!!SSSHHHHEEEEEWWWWWWZZZZZ!!!!!"

Again he sat upright, this time whipping off his cover. He had pinpointed the cause of the infernal racket after all. Leaning out of his bunk, he looked scornfully up at the sleeping Ensign in the bunk above him.

His eyes were closed and there was no visible movement of his massive form. It was as if the Security officer had died in his sleep.

~ I could be so lucky!~ Simon mused, still staring at his roommate, who errupted into another snore.

"ZZZZZOOONNNNNKKKK!!!!SSSSHHHHEEEEEEWWWWZZZZ!!!!"

The sudden burst of sound combined with the vibration of the bed frame were enough to send the startled technician tumbling, uncerimoniously to the floor.

"You....YOU...YOU!!!!!" he yelled in frustration, leaping up and down, swearing under his breath. Glaring at the sleeping Ensign he exclaimed: "I have just the thing for you. Yes I do. You just lay right there."

He pulled a dark green silken robe over his purple pajamas, plunged his foot into his overstuffed slippers and marched into the kitchen area.

He selected a large, serrated knife from his block and gripped the handle tightly as the Ensign continued to snore loudly in the bedroom.

Waving the knife in the air he spoke through gritted teeth. "Your lucky I'm not a Klingon."

From the replicator he ordered a head of Rojarian water cabbage and a jar of molasis. Returning to the room he saw Zeke still laying on his back, peaceful and serene.

"My grandmother had a wonderful remedy for grandfather when his snoring got out of hand. Allow me to pass along the family secret." he said slicing open the pugnent cabbage and peeling out the feathery core. He laid the clumps on Wikkin's sternum, the stench making his own eyes water. Carefully he opened the jar of molasis and just as he leaned over to pour the contents....

"ZZZZOOOONNNNKKKK!!!!!SSSSHHHHHHHHEEEEEEWWWWWZZZZZZ!!!!!!"

Simon stumbled backwards, the molasis spilling directly onto him just before the cloud of feathery cabbage leaves flew through the air and upon the technician's syrup covered torso.

Enraged and embarassed, he grabbed his hand sewn goosedown pillow from his own bunk and swatted the still sleeping officer with it repeatedly before bringing it down across the sleeping Ensign's face in an attempt to smother him.

Zeke didnt even flinch. Instead he continued to snore as if the pillow weren't even there.

"ZZZZZZZOOOOONNNNKKKK!!!!SSSSHHHHHEEEEWWWWZZZZZ!!!!!!!!"

"Argh!!!!!!!!" Simon shouted, stomping his feet."Sleep well buffoon. Your days in this apartment have just dwindled down to hours. Tomorrow morning I shall have you removed."

He drew the drawstring on his robe, trying to muster as much composure as one could while covered in cabbage and molasis, grabbed his comforter, sleep mask and beloved teddybear Mr. Pookums then marched to his couch.

"Orion, Romulans and drinks: part 3"

By
Omar and Jasmine

Omar winced at her attitude and the smile vanished from the face of his diplomatic attaché. Just as that sentence was uttered then one of the bodyguards entered into the room. He decided to reply to that remark and to ignore the signal from the senator to be silent.

“Pathetic Orion! Do not speak to the senator with that language! Orion females are just the wretches of this quadrant! I am the owner of several of them! All of them are obediently working for me!” His nasty smile made it obvious as to just what kind of working that they were doing for him.

Jasmine turned to face the Romulan and looked at him coldly. Any warmth or fear that might have been in the woman was no longer there. She stood up and walked across to the Comm, "Well unfortunately for you, this is a FEDERATION warship. And therefore is under FEDERATION Rules. Leave now and I'll forget you came here. If not, I'll call Commander Corgan."

Omar intervened. "There is no need for that is there?" He asked of her nervously. He had unpleasent memories of the chief of security. His guard though drew a knife and then hurled it at a console. It embedded into the communication console. "I shall kill you. "I shall kill you." He ignored the warnings of the senator.

"The last man who said that to me, ended up dead. So if you feel you need to try to kill me, go ahead. But don't let the fact that my father Captain Bannon may have a problem with you killing me." Jasmine yanked the knife from the console and dropped it on the ground. "You do not scare me" She made sure that any emotion that would betray her was well hiden.

The young human male cadet was terrified when the bodyguard took a second knife out of his pocket. He then moved to her position. The senator was very worried for he knew that the chief of security had hidden surveillance of his actions.

"I suggest you all leave." Jasmine said icily.

The bodyguard then drew a plasma pistol from his jacket. “I am going to kill you.” As he uttered the words then the senator looked at his mouth. Yesterday then four of his teeth were destroyed while he was fighting with a human crewman though now then all of them were there.

“Did you replace your teeth?” he asked of the bodyguard. The man just looked at him very strangely. The plasma pistol was pointed at her.

“No!” The bodyguard ignored the senator.

Jasmine looked at the plasma pistol. "Go ahead. Better you be jailed for murder then plain threatening a starfleet officer. And I am a full starfleet officer so do not think people will just shrug it off because of my race."

"Bodyguards!" Omar shouted at his bodyguards for this one was being very suspicious.

Jasmine however did not move an inch. she watched the guard with the gun with narrowed eyes and her whole body was tensed, though she knew the odds on suviving a point blank blast.

The rest of his bodyguards entered into the room. The man looked at all of them with a great amount of surprise and then aimed at all of them with the plasma pistol. However then a knife was hurled at him and he then fell to the floor. Omar moved to the body and the blood then stained his brown traditional clothing.

“An Imperial Rei`Krannsu Assassin,” he said to himself with annoyance.

"Frankly I do not give a damn if he is. He was a member of your party and there fore you are at fault." Jasmine replied her words echoing ones of her father only a few years ago had used. "Now, take the body and leave, and do not leave the blood behind either. This maybe a Xenobiology lab but i have enough samples on my desk without having them on the floor."

Omar looked at him. The intent of the assassin had obviously been to get him arrested for a killing. The Imperial Rei`Krannsu Assassins were highly elite masters of disguise.

The knife was lodged into his left leg. “Vah-Udt? (Who Are You?” he proceeded to ask of the man. When there was no reply to his question then he pushed the knife into the wound. The man screamed but would not speak to the senator.

One of the guards took a container of acid from the office desk. It poured into the wound and the man screamed again but this time then it was far louder and it was accompanied then by the odour of burning flesh.

Jasmine flinched and turned away. "I ASKED YOU TO LEAVE. NOW DO SO!If i have to ask again, I will be calling security. Take your torture elsewhere!!!!"

OFF: I am no longer finishing this JP. Security, feel free to break in at any time here!

"The Beast Within" Part 1 of 2

(Takes place three days following 'The Thing To Do')

Principal Cast:
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Lt. (JG) Ahdjiia D'Tinya

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 38
Security Main

Victor stopped inside the doors and let a pair of ratings pass by, their speed increasing with direct proportion to the distance it would put between them and him. He ignored the usual round of glares - fearful and otherwise - and zeroed in on his target.

He'd crossed half the distance to the duty desk before Hanley, on the other side of the room, could react, and had stopped moving by the time the ensign had stepped back. Victor nodded to him once and turned his attention to the person he'd come to see, the shift supervisor. "We need to talk," he told Ahdjiia as he loomed over the desk, his voice clipped and flat, almost Vulcanesque in its lack of emotional context.

Ahdjiia looked up from her PADD into Victor's steady gaze. "Certainly Lt.", she said, "Is there a problem?" She'd felt that odd... something... that seemed part of his aura. While she did feel some agitation she found that odd something... more attractive than fearful.

"Why else would I be here after my shift?" he replied. "Here or somewhere else?" He smiled and something dangerous slipped through the room, touching the back of each person's neck with a chill. "Somewhere else is better - fewer people to not want to be near me that way."

"It does not matter to me," Ahdjiia said, "But if you wish somewhere else, there is a vacant room here we may use."

Victor nodded. "Fair enough. The sooner we're done, the sooner your shift will get back to normal." He stepped back from the desk, and waited for her to rise.

"My shift is running accordingly, I can be away for a few moments," she said as she rose from the desk and headed for one of the side rooms that were used for interrogations at those rare times. It was plainly furnished, a simple table with two chairs. Ahdjiia sat down, her hands folded before her; a habit picked up from the humans she'd been around and waited for what Victor had to say.

"I need people," Victor stated flatly. "At least three, maybe four. My shift 's running short-handed and the people that haven't transferred or don't call in sick with post-traumatic stress disorder from being in the same room with me are killing themselves trying to do the work of a whole shift with less than half of one's manpower."

Ahdjiia nodded. "I shall do my best to assist.", she said, then paused slightly in thought, "I will look at your shift schedule to see who does seem to work better under your conditions and arrange some from my shift who fit the profiles. Equally I will accept any transferrees from your shift to mine to balance things out."

Victor didn't smile as he replied, "The only people that work well with me are Vulcans, or other aliens with emotion suppressive abilities, or people who need to have their quarterly psych profile moved up. No one will volunteer for this."

That brought a raised eyebrow from Ahdjiia. "I do not supress my emotions nor is there anything amiss with my psych profile. If I were not a shift supervisor, I would volunteer."

Victor didn't blink as he replied tonelessly. "Then I suggest you move up your quarterly evaluation and be certain to tell Counselor Dallas that you're one of the ones that I don't affect. She'll know what to do."

She nodded again. "I shall," she said. Concidering she was the only known Chrysalian in Starfleet, she was the only one that could point the way as far as they were concerned. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" she asked as a soft smile crept on her lips unbidden.

"You can decide if you want the Beta Shift supervisor's position," he offered back. "It's going to be open soon. I always preferred Gamma Shift myself, but you might like something earlier in the day."

"I do not mind shifting supervisor slots," she said, "and Gamma is less eventful compared to the Alpha and Beta shifts."

"Not shift slots - replace them," he corrected. "Replace me, specifically, on Beta Shift."

"I shall fill out the appropriate PADDs when I return to the desk," Ahdjiia said.

Victor nodded. "The Commander will likely approve you as soon as the transfer goes through. You were the best choice for the shift, D'Tinya. Take care of the people there and they'll do a good job for you."

"I think you're quite a qualified officer as well.", she said, "It is a pity that some have difficulty working around you."

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. What is, is. It was the same here as everywhere else I've been stationed. The only thing different this time is that no one's brought me up on charges or tried to court martial me before I go."

That brought another raised eyebrow. "Surely I do not see the situation ever being possible that grave to warrant such actions.", she said, now a bit curious.

"You must be the only person in the unit that hasn't been inside my file more times than Counselor Dallas, then." He shrugged. "I haven't hurt or killed someone here - yet. At least, not someone anyone cared about. It's only a matter of time though. It always works out that way."

"I've only looked as far as to see your qualifications and how you've performed on this ship.", Ahdjiia said frankly, "It is rather defeatist to assume that past incidents will repeat themselves here when you are fully aware of potential problems."

"Try reading the whole file - it makes things a lot clearer." Victor paused to think. "I think there are still two copies of it in private data archives in the computer if you don't want to read the official version." He listed off three internal files names and locations in spaces allocated to different Security personnel. "As far as I know, at least two of those are still there." He blinked once more, slowly, like a lazy predator. "As for the repetition... what I want or think or assume doesn't matter. I just deal with what is. I don't think and react like them," he waved a hand at the door, "because I'm not like them. They worry about killing people, they feel bad when they have to do it, it scars them. I just do it and walk away, no guilt, no worries, no nothing." He smiled, and for a moment the room was still as something deadly looked out through his eyes. "I'm a killer, a predator, a monster, and they know it."

"You are a human being with control," Ahdjiia said, "If you were anything else, there would be nothing stopping you from just killing me on impulse. You might embody a predator, but you are more than that."

"Not to them I'm not. Ask around and see if you don't believe me." He cocked his head to the side wolfishly and studied her. "Some days I think they're more right than wrong."

She felt as if she might be missing some point somewhere. Perhaps it was from her people's belief in the Revered Ones that she didn't quite perceive Victor as the others did. She did sense that aura about him, and she did find it attractive in some manner. "I would think it would be of more import of how you act than how they perceive you."

"To them, perception is reality. What I do or do not do means nothing next to what they *think* I will do." He shrugged. "It isn't like I haven't actually done most of what they imagine at some point anyway."

Ahdjiia sighed. Too many did put much on perceptions. She remembered her Academy days when the others, both cadets and teachers would get that 'oh' look when they learned she was Chrysalian. Some assumed she'd be arrogant or anti-social so they excluded her from much, but time had changed those perceptions.

"Time does change perceptions, and if they cannot allow themselves to change, it is a flaw they must deal with," she said simply.

Again he shrugged. "No point to it. I'm never in any one place long enough for it to matter." His words carried no sense of regret, as if he were stating a fact that he'd just accepted long ago. "I've never lasted more than a year on any posting before a transfer. Time's up."

That brought the latest of the many eyebrow raises. "And what will you do when you do last longer than a year?"

He looked at her blankly. "I won't."

There was a faint bit of amusement in her eyes when she spoke. "Are you so certain of that fact?", she said, knowing that as it had been they'd seen so much so truly anything was possible.

"Nothing changes. What is, is."

"And I have seen that when one is convinced of the status quo, the world around them does find ways of surprising them."

"It's been like this since I was an infant and my mother had to move me out of the hospital because the other children all did nothing but scream in their cribs as long as I was there. Why would it change? I haven't changed, and the universe isn't going to change for me."

"And unless you are omniscient, you cannot say that for a certainty," Ahdjiia said as she rose, "The shift transfer will be sent in before the end of the day."

"You shouldn't have to wait too long," Victor observed." My transfer orders have been pending since a week after Captain M'Kantu came aboard. It shouldn 't take him much more to find someone that will take me."

Ahdjiia nodded, and then paused. "It depends on how much more we are dealing with those. odd... memories as well." From what she'd seen so far, everyone was having them so why not the Captain as well.

Victor frowned. He'd heard many people talk about it, but he recalled nothing of what they had reported. "You had them as well?"

She nodded, then asked, "Did you?"

"No." His voice was certain. "I remember working a shift, and then waking up and having people all over the ship talking about having memories of things that didn't happen. Battles with other ships, explosions on the planet, the Galaxy crashing... but I don't have any memories of those things. Maybe it's because I don't dream. Maybe it's because I'm a monster." He shrugged. "Does it matter?"

Ahdjiia's eyes flickered low. She thought of what Ens. So'Ka had said about Lt. Kriegoff, and their conversation. Despite the chaos that was running rampant with the crew adjusting to the memories, she found it somewhat sad that Victor didn't share in the experience, that even in this he was a loner. "No, it does not," she said softly.

Victor nodded once, as if he words explained things sufficiently. "Once you transfer over, you should consider keeping most of the shift, So'Ka and Skore especially. They work well together."

"I will take note of that.", she replied as she figured this discussion was pretty much over short of whatever suggestions on shift positions, "Was there anyone in particular that you would prefer on your new shift other than those who fit the requirements you've said?"

Victor looked at her oddly for a second, as though he were trying to decide if she'd made joke. "No, D'Tinya," he said slowly after a moment. "There's nothing wrong with the shift. I don't want to change shifts. I want someone who'll take care of the people on Beta Shift to take over after I'm gone - that would be you. I won't be going anywhere except to another assignment."

"I thought you wished to shift to Gamma for the time being until this transfer happens?", she said.

"No." Victor frowned again. "I didn't explain well. My fault. It won't matter where I am when the transfer comes through, and I might as well do something usefuul until the Captain trades me off. " His frown erased itself and his voice shifted, becoming someone else's voice, something else's voice, death skating on the edges of his words. "I'd just be hiding on Gamma Shift now. I won't hide. Better to face things head on and be done with them."

"What shall you do if the Captain refuses your transfer?", she asked, feeling a tingle through her when his voice shifted from the tone she knew of his.

"Why would he?" Victor asked. "I'd transfer me if I were in his place."

"You are a capable and qualified officer. From what I have seen, captains tend to keep those close," she said matter of factly.

"No one keeps me close, D'Tinya. It never works. Sooner or later something happens and I do what has to be done and the screaming starts."

"There is always that first time," Ahdjiia replied.

"The Beast Within" Part 2 of 2

(Takes place three days following 'The Thing To Do')

Principal Cast:
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Lt. (JG) Ahdjiia D'Tinya

****

"No. Not for me. Not on a ship full of sheep. Sheep don't like tigers, D'Tinya. They can't help it, it's bred into them, just like what I am was bred out. I terrify them by walking down the hall, by just standing in a room. They go crazy if they're left in a small area with me for too long, and this ship isn't big enough to stop that. So they move me. Place to place, ship to ship, post to post. The only difference here is that there are more people that I don't scare as easily than I've seen before - but I scare them all, sooner or later. Just like I'll scare you, sooner or later. The screaming always starts. And then I move."

"I truly doubt you will cause fear in me," Ahdjiia said.

Victor looked at her for a second, perhaps two, and then turned away. A heartbeat passed, and, suddenly, the feel of the room shifted, his presence abruptly expanding to fill it and more, beating against the air like impossibly large, immaterial wings, pressing against Ahdjiia in a palpable way. He turned back, and it was someone different that stood there, someone that you would tell stories about to small children to frighten them into proper behavior. The cries of lost, damned souls skittered along the edges of his words as he said, "I scare everyone, D'Tinya, even the ones I don't want to." He smiled then, and Death slipped into the room to stand behind him and peer out through his eyes like Victor was a mask, hiding the features of the Reaper, but not the nearness of his presence, the closeness of his touch. "It's what I am."

She would never tell anyone what she felt when Victor looked at her that moment, not even Saladin when they were alone. Ahdjiia's heart raced as it did when she was alone in private with her lover as she met the gaze of the modern predator before her, only betraying herself with a faint glitter in her eyes. "You don't frighten me.", she said a little throatier than her usual tone.

He stood there, silent, for a series of heartbeats that seemed to go on into infinity - and then Victor shook himself once, like he were an animal shedding water from its coat, and the overwhelming presence emanating from him faded and Death withdrew back to his dark realms, leaving only the lesser, but still palpable, sense of presence that Victor bore with him all the time. "Why?" he asked curiously.

It took a bit for Ahdjiia to compose herself. "I.it. I don't know," she said, a bit flustered and embarrassed by how her body and mind reacted, "I just do not feel any fear or trepidation around you."

Victor's head tilted to the side wolfishly and he studied her for a moment. "Then why are you nervous?"

"I am not nervous..." she said, trying to find a way around saying the truth, but seeing no webstrand to bypass it, "I do feel something around you....but it is not fear." Her words came soft as she spoke, "It. it is...attraction."

Victor frowned, the sense of his presence starting to increase again, slowly filling up the empty parts of the room. "Attraction?"

Ahdjiia began to breathe a bit heavily as she felt that presence surge up again. She was both ashamed and thrilled at the arousal that rippled through her. "I... I have someone I care deeply for..." she started to stammer, "You make me feel as I do when I am with him."

She couldn't bring herself to look at Victor at the moment, if she did; she wasn't sure how much she could trust herself.

Victor's frown deepened and his presence filled more of the room until it was again pressing against her, pushing at her. He sniffed the air once, and then again, his frown deepening a bit more as he did so. "Yes," he said slowly, hints of the earlier edge his voice had carried just starting to appear. "You smell of it from here. Why?"

Ahdjiia crossed her arms over her breasts to hide the nippliness. Her body was screaming for his touch while in the back of her mind she tried to fight it. Was this part of her attraction to Saladin? This bit of predatory danger, that ruthlessness that lurked under the soul? "I wish I knew," she said throatily, her voice betraying the desire that filled her.

His head straightened back up abruptly, and he took a half step forward, his presence no longer just pushing against her, but now akin to a physical shove. "Why don't you?" he asked, the words thrown out at her like knives edged with the screams of the damned. "Why don't you know?"

Ahdjiia flinched as he spoke; now trembling as she met his gaze. Anger at herself for feeling like this along with raw want glittered there. "I just know how I feel," she said, "I don't know the whys."

"She knew," he growled, the sound like the gates to the realm of the damned. "If she knew, why don't you?"

"Who?" Ahdjiia asked, her bottom lip quivering as his voice sent tingles through her skin.

"Travers." Death was back in a rush, its cold fingers reaching out for her through the word, promising an end to light and life and joy "The other one. The one that knew why."

"I am not her," Ahdjiia said, still trying to get her body under control again. "One's feelings simply are. There is no reasoning."

"You're like her. I can smell it. You want what she wanted."

She flushed at his words. "And I should not be feeling like this," she said, "You are a fellow officer, not the one I love."

He took a step closer, his presence almost strong enough to physically push her back now. "It didn't matter to Travers. Nothing mattered to Travers except what she wanted. Nothing."

"I am not her.", Ahdjiia repeated, now trembling as she began to lose her fight with herself, "I. will... not... act. on... these... feelings."

"She did, why won't you?" He stepped closer again, close enough that Ahdjiia could see confusion mingled with the anger in his eyes, both hiding behind the implacable gaze of Death.

"I don't love you," Ahdjiia said, now backing up so to try to control herself. "I am more than just a rutting urge that must be indulged. I have someone that I love and only he is the one I share myself with."

Victor moved forward again, the single step hinting of the implacability of the one looking out from his eyes. "Then why do you feel this way?" he growled. "Why? Why are you different from her?" The delivery of the last word promised madness and screams before the quiet of the grave for the one he meant.

Ahdjiia couldn't move any further away, Victor had her against the wall. At least now she could press up against it to control her trembling more; it was needed with how his inner self had risen so strongly...almost indignant in that she couldn't give an answer to the question. "We are all different from each other," she said, her inner battle strong in her eyes.

"No. You're like her." He stopped, eyes on hers, pinning her to the wall with his gaze and the force of his presence. "How can you be different?"

"I am different in that I will not act on this like her," Ahdjiia said as firmly as she could manage. Inwardly she was desperately praying to Anashwaa for strength that she actually could resist.

He shook his head once and suddenly looked close, filling her field of vision, his presence beating against her like ocean surf, Death's eyes staring at her from a hand's span away as he studied her. "Maybe you are different."

Perhaps one of Mother Spider's many limbs held Ahdjiia back from moving forward just that short span of space to taste his lips. Goddess...it was so tempting...his darkness called to her, daring her to prove her words a lie, to show that she really was like Travers and act from her baser self instead of the higher self.

Ahdjiia gazed into his eyes, so dark..blacker than the Void...beckoning her to dive into that enveloping embrace. She licked her lips unknowingly, wanting to feel him pressed against her and still loathing that she felt this way towards him as she did Saladin.

"Maybe not." He leaned closer to look in her eyes. "No. You don't know yet. You're still deciding."

This was torture, pure and simple. She was convinced he wanted to see her prove her own words a lie. While it was just them in this room alone and she knew Victor enough that he wouldn't go to Saladin if she did give in as her body was demanding, she would know and Saladin would sense it from her.

She loved him deeply and to her, that love was stronger, more important than some base biological carnality.

Ahdjiia moved her head closer to Victor's, so close he could feel her breath hot on his skin. "There...is...no...deciding..", she said in a tone of agonizing want, "I..will..not..give in...no..matter...how...this...lust...tries...to...make me."

"Good," Death whispered back through Victor's lips, the words beckoning her to the comfort and peace of the grave if she would but surrender to them. "Then you live."

She exhaled as he spoke, moving her head back against the wall. Her heart was racing to the point where she was sure it would burst from her chest. Not sure what to say, Ahdjiia simply nodded, but didn't move from her position.

Without any warning Victor moved back, the space between them opened up to a meter. His presence drew back, letting Ahdjiia breath, but not vanishing yet. "You chose better than Travers," he said simply.

Her relief rippled through her as much as the arousal had once Victor moved back. It was enough for her to work on controlling herself once again. That she'd come so dangerously close to betraying herself with a kiss, shook her deeply.

"What happened to her?" Ahdjiia asked.

"Nothing." Victor took another step back, and his presence withdrew still more. "I didn't know then."

"Would you have done something had you known what you know now then?", Ahdjiia asked, now seeming closer to her composure from earlier.

"Killed her," came the answer in Victor's normal, calm voice, his presence now back to its normal levels. "If I'd known what she was going to do to me, I'd have killed her first."

"What did she do?", Ahdjiia asked, now having come much closer to her proper composure and now wondering what this woman could have done that was so horrible that it warranted an action so dark.

"What you wanted to do and didn't." He turned away and started for the door.

"You deserved better than that.", Ahdjiia said, not moving to stop him from leaving. It was easy for her to think how it must have been for this Travers, just acting on an urge with no higher feelings. To her, sharing one's self with another was the physical expression of the love felt between them, just engaging in mindless rutting brought things to the level of the animals.

"It doesn't matter." Victor stopped just outside the door sensor's range. "What I want or don't want, deserve or don't deserve - it doesn't matter. There's just what is, nothing more." He shrugged. "At least I can say that I know what it's like thanks to her." He started forward again, his final words almost lost in the 'shush' of the opening door. "That's why I would have killed her if I'd known."

She did hear his words as he left, and sadly he'd gone by the time she spoke. "You do deserve better, you betray yourself with the hurt you still feel."

Ahdjiia adjusted her uniform and left the room, returning to her desk to do the promised paperwork.

"What does dying in your would-be-lover's mutilated arms symbolize?"

by Lt. Ella Grey

(timeframe: a couple of days before the D&D game)

*****

Ella coughed and woke herself up.

Her hand shook as she lifted it to her mouth. She was surprised when she discovered that it did not come back all bloodied and she quickly sat up and checked her body for any wounds.

There were none.

She frowned and sat back, leaning her head against the wall, and wrapping the pink blankets tightly around her.

What a dream, Ella thought to herself. She'd been bleeding, surrounded by debris, and near death in the arms, make that arm, of Victor Krieghoff.

An unconscious symbolism of their dying friendship perhaps?

It had felt so real. So...painful.

She wanted to call him, or at least text message him, but she supposed that part of her life was now over. Better to forget him and move on. It was easier that way, at least according to Victor.

Ella sighed and pushed back the covers.

Maybe Ten-Forward was empty.

"A marriage of family"

Saladin Bolivar
Ahdjiia D'Tinya

OOC: Happens before the mission start and after the beast within
OOC2: Content warning Sex (Uhmm is that a given with those two?)
OOC3: They are now married

Saladin checked the runabout. The location of the homeworld was guarded with a paranoia that was hard to understand outside the Nietzchean peoples. A scrambler was attached to the navcomputer and he was watching the stars.

Ahdjiia had finished arranging the for the care of her Little Ones with one of the biologists on the ship and had packed simply, for some reason that just felt right, she'd replicated as much as she remembered of her people's attire.

She arrived at the runabout in a simple Chrysalian caftan that was black with a glittering weblike pattern in the fabric and her usual mantilla. Her sandals made no sound as she stepped into the runabout.

Saladin turned around to face her, then he smiled, "Hey..."

"I'm surprised you heard me.", she said with a soft smile.

"Sensitive hearing." He smiled back and leaned over to kiss her. "one of my people's genetic gifts."

She moved the mantilla so thier lips could touch. "I am ready when you are.", she said once the kiss broke.

He smiled, "I am ready, the scrambler is intact and I have preparaed for transport, the trip will take one day."

Ahdjiia nodded and took a seat.

He looked at her, "Or maybe more, it is very important to keep the location of fountainhead secret."

"I understand."

He nodded he had explaiend that this paranoia had passed down for centuries, with the Eugenics war and all. "The Matriarch will be waititn for us both."

"How did she take the news?"

"As well as can be expected."

"Why do I feel that it didn't go well?"

"Because I am bringing an offworld woman to be my first wife. A position of honor in our people's mind."

"It went poorly."

"You will have a challege to prove your worth, for that I apologise."

"I expected as much."

He sighed, "But I do not care, you mean more to me then any ranks."

"Saladin. I know what it is like to be concidered a non-being by one's own kind. I will not allow it to happen to you."

"I will not leave you Ahdjiia." He said simly, "it will go well."

"I do not want you to lose your ties with your people."

"And I do not want to lose you."

Her eyes went to the ground and she said nothing.

He reached over and took her hand in his. They tookto warp and he leaned in to rest his head on her shoulder, "Have you been well as of late?"

"A little tired in the mornings.", she said, "But that is from my changing shift positions with Lt. Kreigoff."

He looekd at her, "Very well. If you need my assistance I will offer it."

"I will be fine.", she said, "I will adjust my hour for going to bed."

"And perhaps we should not be making love to all hours of the morning."

"I cannot refuse you.", she said with a soft smile, "And I do enjoy it as well."

"I am glad you do, and those things you can do... "

"Chrysalians do have excellent internal muscle control."

He smiled and caressed her cheek, "Yes they do... it is most, pleasing."

"You have not complained yet.", she smiled.

"Neither have you."

"You have given me nothing to complain about."

He kissed her gently as they settled back, "Should I get you something to drink?"

"I am fine.", she said with a soft smile.

He kissed her again and let his hand run along her leg, "I love you."

"I love you too.", she said as she returned his kiss, now leaving her mantilla up.

He slipped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck softly as they embraced each other.

Ahdjiia rested her head against his, sighing contentedly.

Saladin watched the monitor and gently kissed her forehead, "I do warn you my kin can be odd."

"I accept that."

"And our marriage will be something that is new to them to expect lots of questions."

"I will answer each to the best of my ability."

"And there will be suspicion. Did you bring any of your littleones?"

"No.", she said, "Just some clothes and my medallion dedicated to Anashwaa. It is solid crafted from silveron, no hidden compartments."

"Good." He brought up the console, "We will be escorted from Geronas prime by a warship."

"Okay."

"It is standard." He looked at her and kissed her again, this time he let his tongue trace her lips in a surprisingly foreward gesture.

Then he smiled, "nervous?"

"No.", she said with a smile, noticing his rather bold for his behavior.

He grinned, "I wanted to do that, you're so beautiful."

"As you keep saying.", she said softly.

He nodded and watched the time, "Ahdjiia.... I didn't expect to feel this strongly when we met."

"You were affected by the fembot's pheremones.", she said, "Then we had that strange feeling..."

"And those feelings continued." He said with a smile. "I am glad for that."

"As am I."

He kissed her, "So how long is a Chrysallian pregnancy?"

"We are long lived, so it is longer than most sentients.", she said, "Two years."

"Oh..." He said, "That is a long time."

"I don't know how hybrid lineage would affect a pregnancy.", she said, "My people have never joined with other species."

"Then we are trailblazers."

"Indeed we are."

He kissed her again, "We will rezvendous with a border protection vessel in 12 hours."

"I am ready for any checks they will require of me."

He looked at her and smiled, then caressed her cheek.

Ahdjiia rested a hand atop of his and leaned her face into his palm.

He kissed her lips gently then nuzzled her neck, "I'll make you dinner."

"That would be nice."

"We have time..."

"I know.", she said with a soft smile.

He kissed her cheek again then began to think of food. "What do you want for dinner?"

"Anything will be fine.", she said.

He kissed her gently and then began to plan out a quick but full meal for the two of them, "How does that beef stew we had sound?"

"It sounds good."

"I'll replicate it for us, some ale and bread."

"I would prefer water than ale this time.", Ahdjiia said, "I need a clear head for what is to come."

"Then water it is."

Ahdjiia looked at the controls to make sure everything was in order and stepped back into the runabout to the small dining alcove.

Saladin came with her and began to replicate dinner, then he brought out the steaming plates. "Here you go, dinner is served."

"It smells wonderful.", she said with a soft smile.

He kissed her again, "Thank you." He sat down and began to play some footsie as they ate.

It was much like their usual meals together and as pleasant as always. Ahdjiia helped clear up the dishes when they were finished.

Saladin slipped his arms around her and kissed her behind the ear.

She sighed contentedly and rested her arms atop of his.

He kissed her forehead and nuzzled her neck, "Nice..."

"It is.", she said as she returned his nuzzle.

He hugged her then began to nibble on her ear, "And we are alone.."

"I know.", she said with a soft smile.

He kissed her again then began to kiss her neck softly.

She sighed softly, returning his kisses along his jawline.

'He smiled and kissed her lips, "Do you think we have time?"

"With getting some rest before we arrive...I do not think so.", she said with a sad sigh.

He shrugged, "Then our wedding night will be....memorable."

"As it should be.", she smiled.

He kissed her, "Shall we sleep, or try to..."

"We should.", she said as she returned his kiss.

He deepned the kiss unconciously and drew her close.

Ahdjiia wrapped her arms around him, returning his kiss with equal fire.

As they kissed her drew her close and let his hands trace down to her backside.

"You do not wish to wait for our wedding night?"

"I do not know if I can wait that long..."

"The anticipation will add to our union."

He smiled, "And there are....other things... we can do."

"I know.", she smiled back.

"And they are just as pleasurable..."

"They certainly are.", she said as she started to lead him to the sleeping pallet.

He pulled her down on to the pallet to hold her in his arms as he kissed her lips, "I do love you Ahdjiia." Then he yawned.

"Perhaps we should sleep.", she said as she snuggled up to him.

"That woudl be wise." He closed his eyes and felt sleep come hard to him.

Ahdjiia closed her eyes and joined him in sleep, hoping she'd awake more refreshed than she had been as of late.

The next morning he awoke and was preforming his wake up rituals, he also made sure her coffee was up and going.

She slept in a bit longer than usual. Ahdjiia still felt a bit tired, but not quite as bad as usual. She watched Saladin from the pallet as he did his routines.

He handed her a cup of coffee."Morning."

"Good morning.", she said as she sat up and took the cup.

He kissed her then sat next to her, "You seem to be tired as usual."

"A little, but not as much as yesterday."

"Maybe a good morning orgasam or two would awake you."

"The coffee will do for now.", she smiled, "How much longer for our journey?"

"3 hours untill we reach Fountainhead."

"Are there any preparations I must begin now?"

"Would stripping naked for me count?" He teased her, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Just do not bring any weapons."

"I brought none with.", she said simply.

"You listened to my advice well." He hugged her, "Go get a sonic shower I will monitor traffic, then we will fall in to the traffic."

She returned his hug and kissed his chin before heading to the shower and getting herself ready for the trials to come.

Saladin however decided to be a bit cheeky and snuck in to the shower to watch her. It was more of a silly gesture, but hey, he was no blushing schoolboy but sometimes these little games were fun.

She knew he'd joined her and Ahdjiia playfully nudged him with a bony elbow.

He kissed her behind the ear, "I cannot be apart from you..."

"You will have to be if I must undergo tests to prove my worth."

"That is true, and I accept that." He kissed her behind the ear again, "Though the tests will only be one day."

"That might change concidering how I perform."

"It might, so we might be leaving sooner then that." He kissed her again then stepped out, "See you outside."

Ahdjiia quickly changed into her finest attire before joining Saladin. It was a betrothal robe that was the standard form fitting in the upper arms and tapered at the waist to hint at her form. She wore nothing underneath and was a charcoal grey with black webbing pattern. Her medallion to Anashwaa and her mantilla completed her ensemble.

Ahdjiia took a deep breath to steady herself and she stepped out of the runabout.

Saladin took her hand as they approached a guard post where two larger men stood as they approached.

Saladin stepped foreward, "I am Saladin Bolivar out of Bouddica by Charlamagne, I return home to bring my first to the matriarch..."

Ahdjiia was silent, waiting to be spoken to before speaking out.

They didn't say muich and stepped aside as he led her foreward. The hut looked more like the great hall of the Klingon Empire then anything. Seated in one corner was a very decrepid lookign woman who had 3 bodyguards with her.

"You who enter our house, are welcome Saladin...Your bondmate will now introduce herself..."

Ahdjiia met the formidible woman's gaze calmly and coolly, her own eyes glittering behind the lace of her mantilla. "I am Ahdjiia, born to the D'Tinya Falls people of the Syennath of Chrysalia.", she spoke simply.

She stood and drew herself up to her full 4'11 height and walked down to face her, "you will come with me now... your testing will begin." The Matriarch was not a large woman but her force of personality was more then enough to make up for her height...well that and the bodyguards.

Ahdjiia nodded and prepared to follow the Matriarch.

They walked off, Saladin went back to his family's longhome, where he would wait.

They walked in to an austere room and a medical kit was opened, "Sit offworlder and tell me why I should consent to this marriage."

Ahdjiia sat, adjusting her robe as she did so. "I am a healthy female who has been chosen by one of your lineage.", she said, "I have proven myself worthy of his attentions."

She stared at her as doctors wordlessly drew her blood, "we are not Klingons child, one does not become the first wife to a Nietzchean male easily, to join his pride and house would be a high honor... a pure Nietzchean female with genetic ties to Drago Museveni himelf would have a difficult time currying my favor..." She watched her, "You will find it nigh impossible, but... we will attempt it."

"I understand.", Ahdjiia said simply as she adjusted her billowing sleeve back down after her blood was taken, the white boney part of her elbow showing in stark contrast to her dusky skin.

She gestured as the blood was taken, "Lay back child, we will perform a full genetic scan."

Ahdjiia did so and the scan started. The results flowed over the screens. Her stock was quite similar to a human's save for the slightly denser skeletal structure, a slight resistance to toxins that had been further increased due to gradual exposure to many more, increased neural control over her musculatory system....and a hybrid fetus growing strong within her.

"You carry a child within you...Saladin is the father. A male child to be exact."

Ahdjiia did not betray her surprise to the news, though she wished she'd known beforehand so it would have been her sharing the news. "Saladin has been the only one I have shared my body with over the past several months.", she simply stated.

SHe nodded, "we will begin the tests....you are of strong stock and you would bring additional poison immunities..."

"I am ready for the tests."

"So you think child..." There was a faint amusing glimmer in the Matriarch's eyes as they strode in to the second room. "You will begin with a mental acuity test...."

She showed her the box, "In this box are parts for a device, build it..."

Ahdjiia nodded and began to examine the parts within. She easily recognized federation technology, and what looked almost Cardassian or Klingon. It was obvious this was a bit of a trick since all of the parts wouldn't make one device, but two or more.

It didn't surprise Ahdjiia in the end, so she began to assemble from the Federation parts first and see what she could wing from the rest.

Within an hour she had a tricorder assembled and in working order. She looked over the remainders and was pretty confident that it was a weapon of sorts.

Yet another hour passed and she had a disrupter assembled. Ahdjiia didn't risk testing to see if she managed to have it in working order though.

Walking over the older woman picked up the disruptor and pointed it at a wall then fired.

"Very good." It was almost grudging.

Ahdjiia just nodded, saying nothing.

They walked in to the next room. in there was a sword and the entrance to a holodeck, "You must be strong to defend yourself and your children." She pointed to the holodeck, "Enter there... face the enemies within"

Ahdjiia nodded and while part of her wished she could've changed into more suitable attire, she wasn't going to ask to change considering the Matriarch would very likely take that as some perception of weakness. The miniature harridan had been wrong in her statement though, Ahdjiia would be fighting for more than just a display of how she could defend herself and her children. She would be fighting to ensure Saladin wasn't cast out by his people...his family as well.

She hefted the sword, it was quite similar to the one Saladin had in their quarters, though she noticed the balance was off on the blade. Typical, she thought to herself as she stood ready.

A standard combat drone approached her with a bo staff, spinning it expertly. Ahdjiia held the sword in a defensive position and suddenly chaos erupted in the room as a jungle environment with full cloying humidity and baleful heat appeared and three hulking beings armed with massive double bladed axes charged at her from different directions.

Her security training kicked in and Ahdjiia moved fast, ducking into the foliage and using the sword to slice her gown so she had better mobility. She took her mantilla off, draping it over a bush and climbed up a tree as nimbly as a spider to get a better vantage point.

The first being crashed through the brush, and slammed it's axe down when it saw her discarded mantilla. Silently Ahdjiia leapt from her branch and buried her sword into it's head, sending them both to the ground. She took it's axe, though it's weight made it hard for her to move quickly. Better to have it than for one of the others to grab it and use it against her as well.

She could hear the others hunting for her and Ahdjiia knew she had to use her wits as well as her physical abilities to pull this off.

The acquired axe ended up being tied to a vine and more vines were elaborately knotted into a trap that would strike with lethal force. She quickly covered the vinetrap with leaves and called out as if she'd been injured to attract her pursuers. It worked and she could hear them both coming, one moving faster than the other. Ahdjiia ducked into the brush as the second burst into the trap she'd set and had the axe buried deep into it's chest, almost penetrating through completely.

She smiled and only barely managed to duck as the third's axe passed dangerously over her head. Now it was going to be the hard battle, one on one since Ahdjiia had no way of being able to avoid it. At least in her favor, the axe was less wieldly than her off balanced sword. With effort she managed to get some stinging cuts on it's legs, enough to enrage it to the point where it would make mistakes, but then it landed a lucky blow.

The axe would have easily cleaved her in two had it not been for her medallion to Anashwaa. The silveron of the pendant took the brunt of the edge, though Ahdjiia was sent to her knees as a burning pain ripped through her chest, making it difficult to breathe. Soon as she hit the ground, she threw her sword with all her remaining strength, something only possible since her combat practice with Saladin. The blade struck home, felling the massive being.

Ahdjiia struggled to regain her footing, trying to fight the agony in her chest when she snapped still. Without batting an eye she spun and grabbed the bo stick from the combat drone from earlier and smashed it's faceplate in with a boney elbow, sending it sparking to the ground.

The matriarch entered, "you have passed the test. Are you injured?"

"I am able to continue.", Ahdjiia said, forcing the pain aside, not about to show weakness to the Matriarch.

"You will be treated." Her tone brokered no argument.

Ahdjiia simply nodded.

Doctors treated her as best they could and watched her, the injuries were minor at best then the Matriarch walked over, "you are a worthy bride."

Ahdjiia accepted the high praise with a polite nod.

"You will be prepared for the wedding."

"I am ready."

"Then come with me... the ceremony will begin at nightfall."

Ahdjiia rose and followed the Matriarch, still half expecting some other test that had not been mentioned.

They walked along in to a room and laid out was a thick fur robe and a gold neckchain, "The ceremony will be at nightfall, you will be left alone for any meditiations and to prepare for your wedding night."

Ahdjiia nodded and once she was left alone, she knelt on the floor, thanking Anashwaa for helping her through this far and asking for her to let the Great Web shake a bit for her feet to feel a warning.

Once she'd finished with her prayers, she rose, changed into the fur robe and thick neckchain. She still wore her more delicate medallion to Anashwaa as well and waited until the hour came.

A guard walked in to her room and then said, "It is time come with me."

Saladin was waiting at the appointed place, his mien neutral and he had changed in to a similar thick fur robe, with his standard unfiorm.

The doors opened and the Matriarch spoke, "I have found this one worthy and consent to the joining."

Ahdjiia followed the guard and stood silently as the Matriarch made her proclimation.

Then Saladin walked to her and took her hand, "I take this woman as mine....she is my wife, my first..."

Then they walked forward and were face to face.

She still remained silent, gazing into his eyes. "I take this man as mine.", she said, matching his words, "He is my husband, my First."

"Then it is done..." She said, "They are husband and wife..."

With that the guards took the couple to a bedchamber and sealed it.

Saladin looked at her and walked over to embrace her.

Ahdjiia held him tightly, finally letting out the breath she'd been holding in.

He kissed her, "We are married now. I guess you impressed the matriarch, she is difficult to please."

"Or the thought of one of your blood resistant to toxins finding his way here to seek revenge was something to concider more.", she said with a tired smile.

He laughed and kissed her, "That was a part of it."

"At least now we know why I've been tired in the mornings.", she said as she rested her head against his chest.

"Why is that?" He asked her a confused expression on his face.

"I thought they would have told you.", she said as she looked up at him, "I'm pregnant."

He smiled and embraced her, "Great news....our child will be strong and healthy."

"He is so far.", she said as she returned his hug.

He kissed her and let his hand trace her cheek, "Now is the traditional time to consummate the bond."

"Forgive me if I am not as energetic as I usually am.", she said.

He laughed, "That is ok... you have been the one to increase the fire in our life."

She smiled and started to walk towards the bed, letting the fur robe slip from her body. Where the axe struck her medallion still was darkly bruised as it wasn't concidered an injury.

He looked at the bruise. "You are injured."

"It is nothing.", she said, "Anashwaa protected me and our child."

He shed his robe and began to undress, "But you are still injured." His hands caressed her hips as he stepped behind her.

"I will heal.", she said with a reassuring smile.

He began to softly kiss her neck, his hands caressed her body gently. His fingers played along her smooth skin.

She rested her hands atop his as they moved over her skin and she rested her head back on his shoulder.

He leaned in and kissed her lips. Then he gently kissed her forehead, "I love you Ahdjiia."

"I love you too.", she said, returning his kiss and easing them down to the bed.

He laid next to her and let his hands continue to caress her naked body, his kisses grew a bit more passionate as his fingers found the spots on her that excited her.

Ahdjiia moaned softly, her hands roaming his body, stroking the areas she knew well would bring him pleasure.

He moaned as well and slid a finger inside her as his lips found her full breasts, he suckled her greedily and began to explore her body.

The pleasure from Saladin's touch easily pushed away the soreness from her bruise and she parted her legs for him, wrapping a leg around his waist.

He gently guided his hardness in to her, it was almost instinctual at this point and he kissed her as they began to move together.

The intimate dance they were all too familiar with began, this time with the added weight of thier formal union.

He kissed her as his hips moved in to hers faster. He moaned softly as he felt the pressure build within him.

Ahdjiia had wrapped herself around him, matching his motions, and kissing him hungrily. Her body began to tense as she reached the point of no return.

He exploded again crying out as his body crested over the peak of their unity. He shuddered as his hips thrust.

Her nails dug into his back and her cry of pleasure mingle with his as she joined him in that firey moment of oneness.

He kissed her and laid next to her as they basked in the afterglow. "You are now part of my family."

She smiled at his words, letting a hand lazily travel across his chest. "It is good to belong again...even if it is not with those of my own people."

"Why do you not belong with your own people?"

"They excommunicated me for desiring more than what our world had to offer."

"To better yourself is the greatest thing you can do."

"But to those who isolate themselves from the affairs of those around them, those who find fault with the status quo must be cast out for the harmony of the rest."

He looked at her, "Untill 300 years ago, to reveal the homeworld to an offworlder was punishable by death, children with defects were drowned, and to consider marryign someone from outside our species was death for both. The status quo must be changed sometimes."

"300 years is still short to my long lived people.", she said, "Only a sign from the Revered Ones will change anything."

"Oh..." He looked at her, "How long do your people live?"

"At 61, I am still concidered almost at my prime."

"That long eh?"

"With how placid our lives are, I do not know if existing away from that will shorten my natural span."

He interlaced his fingers with hers, "OUr lives are as one now."

"With one born from us on the way.", she smiled as she squeezed his hand.

"Yes.. that will be a wonderful sight our child, out of Ahdjiia by Saladin."

"You never said if I had to follow a specific naming pattern for after our union.", she said.

"We will select a child's name, dependant on sex, then the child's formal name will be as such out of you by me... as that you are the mother you hold a place of special respect."

"How shall the others address me?"

"You will be adressed as your true name Ahdjiia.... my mother is Boudica Von Clauswitz, she does not take my father's name as she is not his property."

"I do not acknowledge my union to you in any way?"

"It is acknowledged in the necklace you wear, the gold necklace is a sign, and you may acknowledge it as you wish."

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

He rested his head on the thick feather pillow, "We have had a full day."

"I would say mine was fuller, unless you had tests as well.", she teased as she curled up next to him, pulling the thick blankets over them.

He kissed her and curled up next to her, "It was, mine was waiting and family business."

"They told you nothing?"

"It is tradition, one is not to know the results of the tests before they are done."

"They were quite crafty.", she said, her eyes closing, "But you prepared me well."

"I am glad." He rested his head against her, "Tomorrow morning we depart, the formal reception will be at a later date."

"Forgive me if I do not wake easily.", she said, "I feel as if I could sleep a week."

"You can sleep all the way back to the Galaxy."

"It won't surprise me if I do.", she said softly.

He smiled and kissed her cheek, "Good night my love."

Her reply was a soft murmur as she fell asleep.

He fell asleep next to her and they slept through the night....

Morning came, and Ahdjiia hadn't budged an inch since she fell asleep.

Saladin kissed her forehead and sent out for a full hearty breakfast, including a strong coffee brew that his people made, it made Rajktchino seem like decaf. He sipped one and laid a cup of the strong brew next to the bed for his wife.

Even the smell of strong coffee wasn't enough to rouse Ahdjiia from her sleep.

He shook her gently, "Ahdjiia, are you ok?"

She stirred slighly, an eye cracking open to peer at him. "Morning already?", she murmured sleepily.

He nodded, "It is, I have coffee ready for you."

"I feel as if I just closed my eyes.", she said as she forced herself up.

He looked at her, "I should have a doctor examine you."

"I will be fine.", she said, refusing to show any form of weakness to Saladin's people, "I just pushed myself more than I have in quite a while yesterday."

He looked at her, "When we get back to the Galaxy you will see doctor Reynolds."

She said nothing, simply nodded.

He moved over breakfast, "It is for you, we will leave after we eat."

Her eyes widened at the feast before her and she took a deep breath. "I hope I'm able to finish this.", she said.

He laughed, "I have faith in your dietary prowess."

"And I know how tired I am from yesterday.", she said as she started to nibble on a sausage.

He ate as well then kissed her cheek as they worked through the meal as best they could. He was stuffed by the end and their clothing had been laid out the night before. "Do you wish to shower first?"

"I think I will need help, I am quite stiff.", she said with an apologetic smile.

He raisaed an eyebrow and helped her up, "There is an option for a hot bath."

"That sounds wonderful.", she smiled.

He helped her up and they walked in to a very well made bathroom with a large hot tub, almost the equivlent of a small pool.

Ahdjiia sat while Saladin prepared the bath and she greatfully eased herself in.

He eased himself next to her and slipped his arms around her waist, "I know you need this."

"It feels wonderful.", she smiled, feeling the crickle pops from her joints.

He continued to massage her shoudlers and kissed her skin, "I will save this as a holoprogram."

"That would be nice.", Ahdjiia smiled, feeling the soreness leave her body.

He slipped his arms around her waist, "And will the security department continue to thrive with you on maternity leave?"

"That won't be happening for quite a while.", she said, "And of course they will."

"And how was the news of your classified vacation taken?'"

"I had leave time accrued since I did not go to Risa on the last shore leave.", she said as she rested her head back on his shoulder.

"We still have a honeymoon coming to us."

"We do.", she said, "Though where should we go?"

"Pacifica...it's off the beaten path, but msot of the world is the most beautiful ocean you have ever seen."

"I look forward to going.", she smiled.

"And it's not covered by the Khotan ban..."

"Only Risa, and that is no loss there."

"The planet is too full of tourists and fools anyways." He looked at her, "Perhaps we should get out of the tub."

"I agree, I'm starting to get wrinkled near my elbows.", she smiled as she eased herself to standing.

Saladin rose as well and draped a thick cotton towel around her shoulders. Servants had laid out their clothing without them having to ask for it and also laid out lunch for them to go if they wanted to.

Ahdjiia dried herself off with the thick towel. "Are servants common here?", she asked as she started to dry her hair.

"Yes, it is a fall back to our conquorer days, they used to be slaves of conquered worlds who were brought to serve, but after first contact with the Federation the ruling council emancipated the slaves and many of them stayed as servents, those that didn't were given money and transport."

She nodded and headed over to dress. Unlike her attire before, Ahdjiia was now dressing as a Niechtiziean female would.

He looked at her attire and smiled, "it looks beautiful on you my love."

"As your wife, it is befitting that I dress so.", she said with a soft smile.

He picked up her mantilla and placed it around her shoulders, "it is fitting, yet it is also not fitting for you to change fully for me."

Ahdjiia adjusted her mantilla so it veiled her face again. "Your family despite my passing the Matriarch's tests will still take time adjusting to me, I thought to make it easier for them."

"I thank you for it love." He kissed her then covered her face again, "today we will meet my father, he is a revered member of the house."

"Is there anything particular I should know about him?"

"He is one of the more radical members of the ruling council, it his his voice that allowed us to ally with the Federation against the dominion."

"Ah."

"There were voices for neutrality, voices for an alliance with the Dominion, but they were a different group."

"Oh?"

"Sort of a fringe group." He smiled and kissed her, "But they were not correct."

"Are they still here?"

"Yes, but they have accepted the way things went."

Ahdjiia nodded and gave herself one final adjustment before being ready to meet more of Saladin's family.

Saladin fixed his shirt and they walked through the halls, along the pathways were mounted symbols of victories, hull platings from starships, Klingon, Breen, Dominion. As they walked along he held her hand gently just savoring the closeness with her.

She allowed herself a quick smile at him as they walked down the halls, but for the most part kept herself looking stoic.

He smiled back then they were lead foreward to a guardpost, outside were two lancers in ceremonial regala with long spears, on their belts were disruptor pistols.

Their eyes examined the two of them before stepping aside and letting the doors open.

"Father... I have come home to present my bride.."

Charlamagne Bolivar looked up from the report he had been reading, then he looked at the couple, "and what is your name child?"

"Ahdjiia.", she said softly.

"Come Ahdjiia, sit with me."

She walked away from Saladin and sat down where his father bade.

He smiled, "So, Ahdjiia, you are the first woman my son has thought this strongly about."

"The thoughts have been mutual.", she said with a soft smile.

"What drew you to him, Nietzchean males are not usually the first choice in partners, usually only Nietzchean females can put up with us."

"I suppose they appeal to some Chrysalian females as well."

He chuckled, "That is good, I was worried he would never settle down."

"Oh?"

"He has been one to never find a true partner in his life."

"I am pleased he found me worthy."

"You are the first outworlder to be on our true homeworld. The Federation diplomats met on Station X1, for the formal alliance ceremonies. But this is one of the true homeworlds, that you are now privy to it's location, that is how much you are now trusted and part of this family and clan."

"None shall learn of the location through me.", she said. Though to be honest, Ahdjiia still wasn't sure where the world was as Saladin handled the co-ordinates and shielded them from her.

He nodded, "I know..." He smiled and touched her cheek, "You are a good soul Ahdjiia D'Tinya."

She smiled softly. "There would be some to differ on that opinion.", she said with a bit of humour.

"Then they are fools." He paused and coughed, cough deep, he was ill, but he moved his head away from her, his face turned red from the effort then he looked back at her. "You are welcome here any time..."

Ahdjiia spared a glance at Saladin as his father had his coughing jag. "Thank you.", she said, acting as if nothing had happened.

Saladin was worried, but he hid it. Then Charlamagne spoke again, "I know you have to get back to the Galaxy... I will not keep you."

Ahdjiia rose and rejoined her husband.

Saladin reaced for her hand then bowed to his father befor they left.

"His coughing grows worse."

"Is there no treatment for it?"

"He is stubborn, I guess I get it from him, we have tried all the treatments, but he will not submit to Fedreation medicines, he will not have lung transplants or regrowth."

"Is cloning not an option?"

He paused, "he is old school on that, he feels that to clone body parts is to deny his mortality."

She nodded, leaving the answer as is.

He could read her, "I know, but he is stubborn." They walked back to their shuttle and he began to check on the loading of their luggage.

"I however have no such concerns, especially not now."

"I hope you will not be as stubborn should you be in a similar situation.", she said as she started to walk into the shuttle.

"I will not. I wish to share as long as I can with you."

"As do I.", she said with a soft smile as she seated herself.

He sat down, then powered up the ship, once clearance was recieved he started the vessel up and they began to ascend...

"Do we have time for a honeymoon?"

"We had time on the flight here, so we do have time on the flight back for a short one."

"We will go to pacifica at a later date then, before teh baby is born, and before you are too pregnant to wear swimwear." He teased her.

"I will schedule a check up when we return. They should be able to determine a due date for me so we can plan."

"Excellent." He smiled and kissed her, "Once we hit warp, lunch and some time for us..."

She returned his kiss, "That sounds perfect."

"Maybe a long passionate lovemaking session, and if we're lucky we can be interrupted by the Galaxy operations staff."

She chuckled. "Preferrably by audio communication only."

"And if it is visual perhaps they might learn some things."

"I would rather keep that to just ourselves."

"As would I." He kissed her and began to set the warp coordinates. "No one needs to see me lose my control as iI do when we are alone."

"I like both faces you show.", she said, "The brusque officer and the passionate one behind closed doors."

He smiled, "Only you may seem my passionate side."

"As it should be."

"I am glad only I may see your passionate side."

"As it should be.", she smiled as she removed her mantilla and draped it on her chair.

Saladin looked at her and then brushed her dark hair back, "we're at warp."

Her smile grew warmer and Ahdjiia rose from her chair, offering her hand to Saladin.

He took her hand in his and walked with her, gently he squeezed her hand as he moved closer to her, "I love you Ahdjiia."

"I love you as well.", she smiled as she embraced him for a kiss.

WHich he delivered first a gentle kiss then it grew warmer and more passionate.

She returned the passion in his kiss and slowly began to guide him to the sleeping pallet.

He moved with her and continued to kiss her as they moved back to the pallet. He guided her back as they kissed.

THen he began to unfasten her clothing.

Ahdjiia started to undo his attire as well, her own sliding from her body.

Soon they laid together naked, Saladin's kisses moved along to her neck, his hands caressed her bare skin, like the rarest jewel.

Her soft sighs of contentment filled the air around them as they began that intimate dance they both knew so well.

As they moved Saladin did murmur small words of love as their bodies moved together.

As usual they reached that pinnacle of pleasure together and Ahdjiia sighed softly, smiling as she curled up next to him.

Saladin smiled, gently he brushed her hair back, "As long as you are satisfied.."

"I always have been with you."

"I'm happy Ahdjiia. You make me happy."

"And I am happy with you."

He smiled, "And we have more time untill we reach the Galaxy..."

"Indeed we do.", she smiled.

"Are you hungry?"

"I am...but not quite for food.", she smiled as she ran a dusky finger down his chest.

He raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

She chuckled as she rolled him over on his back and straddled him.

He kissed her lips and slipped his arms around her waist, "I like it when you do this..."

"I know."

"Dropping the soap...and picking up the gauntlet!"

With
Ensign Zeke Wikkins,
Security

and Simon Crumbley,
NPC technician.

( Stash's note: ***RED ALERT!!! RED ALERT!!!! SENSORS INDICATE TWO MEN IN A SHOWER ACTION OFF THE STARBOARD BOW!!*** )

Time: Bright and early
Location: Shower stall, Wikkins/Crumbley quarters, USS GALAXY

The universe is a vast and wonderously facinating place filled with countless marvels and breathtaking beauty. Even since man had been driven to take to the stars, they had been impressed by the spectacular cosmic lightshows that seemed never ending.

Millions of stars twinkling against the backdrop of space. Hundreds of planets of every color in the rainbow. Nebulas. Black holes. Brilliant meteorite showers. Supernovas. Worm holes.

Each and every morning held another amazement for those explorers, surfing through the universe in starships. Each morning something new to behold. Something fascinating to study.

For Simon Crumbley, the USS GALAXY's technician, this morning was no different. This morning brought yet another vision that he captured in his mind's eye.

This morning, as he looked up from the floor of the shower stall that he had sought out and fallen asleep in to escape his roommate's snoring, he found himself looking directly at ....

......the stark naked, rock hard body of his Amish roommate.

The technician scrambled into the corner of the shower as water began to fall from the showerhead.

"What!?!? <sputter> What in the name of God!! <Spit>" Simon cried out shielding his eyes more from the Security officer's nudeness than the spray of warm liquid. He dove out of the shower and onto the tile floor.

"Good Morn, Brother Crumbley." Ensign Wikkins said nonchallontly as he pulled a shower cap over his buzz cut.

Simon was furious. So much so that he began to shake.

"What do you think you are doing?!?!" he shouted.

"I believe it is called showering. It's a rituilistic cleansing of the body. Some even believe it also cleanses thy soul from the previous day's sins. Thou should try.."

"I AM AWARE OF WHAT A SHOWER IS, YOU CRETIN! WHAT I DO NOT UNDERSTAND IS WHY YOU ARE DOING SO WITH ME LYING HERE!!"

Zeke shrugged as he scrubbed his massive back with a suds covered brush. "I didn't want to wake thee."

"Well that was very conciderate of you, idiot. Did it ever dance through that thick skull of yours that perhaps the DRIPPING WATER WOULD?!?!?!"

"Thou art welcome." Zeke said.

"I AM WELCOME?!?! DO YOU HAVE SUDS IN YOUR EARS?!" Simon asked, shaking his head. "You have stones, I will grant you that."

Zeke smiled broadly and rocked back on his heels, thrusting his nude pelvis out ever so slightly. "I thank Thee. I've been told that before but thou art the first man who has ever said so."

Simon growled. Zeke smiled, nodded his head and began to pull the curtain shut but his found the technician's wirey grip around his thick wrist. The Security officer arched his eyebrows in suprise as he looked down upon the man. Physically, Zeke could have closed the curtain wether Simon was hanging from his arm or not. He was however suprised by the little man's bold actions.

In one swift motion he lifted his arm up and reeled Simon into the shower, his feel dangling off the shower floor as Wikkins studied him with a mixture of curosity and amusement.

"Thy actions lead me to believe that thou art either somehow offended by the fact that I draw air, or that thou art somehow interested in some sort of sinful copulation!" Zeke drawled slowly. "Casting aside the fact that I harbor no desire to have my eternal soul burning in the Devil's bowel, and waiving for one moment the lack of attraction I have to menfolk, I also believe that thou being only 1/3 my size would make such a union to painful to bear - unless thou art inclined to such ilk."

Simon boiled over with rage and placed his feet upon the shower rail for support.

"PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT! IF I DIDNT HAVE THE SHOWER RAIL TO STAND ON I WOULD HAVE BROKEN MY NECK!! I DONT WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU SEXUALLY, YOU BUFOON!!" Crumbley spat.

"If that were the case, why art thou standing upon my rod?" Zeke asked matter of factly.

Simon glanced down and after confirming that he was indeed much closer to Zeke than he ever wanted to be, promptly screamed and dove into the doorway stood aghast in the living area glaring back at the Ensign.

"ENOUGH! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!! THIS APARTMENT AINT BIG ENOUGH FOR THE BOTH OF US!! IT'S HIGH NOON FOR YOU COWPOKE!!!"

"Cow poke? Did thou intrude upon my holodeck program?" Zeke asked suspiciously.

Simon twitched spasmaticlly in anger, then flittered through the apartment grabbing clothing and tucking them under his arm as he screetched.

"YOU AND ME!! IN THE TOURNAMENT!! WINNER GETS THIS APARTMENT AND THE LOOSER PACKS HIS THINGS AND GETS THE HELL OUT!!!

He stopped before the door and turned to face the mountanious Security Officer.

"I GO TO TRAIN!! YOU JUST BE AT THE TOURNAMENT CAUSE IM COMIN...AND HELL'S COMIN WITH ME!! YOU BETTER BE QUAKING!!" he screamed, then dashed off down the hallway.

"Quaker? I am Amish." Zeke said, then shrugged his shoulders and pulled the curtain back to finish his shower.

****

OOC: And with that Zeke Wikkins, the Amish Mauler and the fighting NPC Simon Crumbley are set to do battle in Round One of the Hand to Hand Combat Tournament with the Apartment at stake!

"Chicken Soup for the Insomniac's Soul"

Lt. JG Dr. Klaus Fienberg
Lt. JG Kay MacFarland(APC)

Location: Holodeck 2

Klaus waited at the holodeck entrance, the pain growing in his chest. -Come on kay.....this is important.....-

The young science officer ran down the hall towards the holodeck entrance and her beloved lover Klaus, "I'm here love, what wrong?" Kay said in her sweet Scotlish voice while getting her long red hair out of her eyes.

"Good, this is going to be painful, but there is something I must know. Come."

He quickly rushed into the holodeck, and since he had scheduled this time it was empty. "Computer! Run program Fienberg-Phantom-Memory 1!"

The scenery quickly morphed into the ruined dead sickbay. The one from Klaus' Dreams, the one where he saw his own dead body, and also suffered that same death. The dream that seemed so real, as though it was a memory. Every Body, ever! y one. He knew them all. All but one that was still under it's sheet. In his dream/memorys he didn't know who it was. "This is a terrible sight. It was constructed straight from the dreams that prevent me from sleeping. I need something from you. Something that you may have dreamed after our mission at Quentin."

Kay looked around the holography sickbay, it was an very scary sight.

"I dream of my own death but that was in the science lab, why do you want to know? What in the world is going on here?!"

A Feeling of relief overcame Klaus.....but quickly left. "I feel that perhaps that these dreams are really memories of something that happened but was reversed and undone.....but my problem is that I am disturbed by the though that we didn't die together. This pains me more than anything...." Klaus became detached and drifted in thought.... "Computer, end program and delete it."

Kay went towards her lover and! touched his face gentle with her small hands, "You have me and our future together it nothing but joy and happiness. You've got to believe that love."

"Yes, I know this, but in these dreams....which I now have full knowledge, memory, and documenting of, I never saw you dead, that brings more pain than I can bare. I always thought that may have been you under that sheet. That sheet covered body....Yes....I feel the pain lifted from my heart in that respect...." He raised his hands and placed them above her's upon his face. "I have something to discuss with you....but it will be tommorow night..." He chuckled lightly. "I believe that tonight I will sleep in the first time in 3 weeks. I'm starting to see things....the classic symptom of severe lack of sleep...."

"Ok, what time will you pick me up?"

Klaus began to waiver a bit. "1800 hours....10 forward. I'll have a table reserved.....whatever you want..." Then Kay took him by the hand and replied, "Here let me put you to bed ok, my love." "Yes....yes...." Location: Klaus' Quarters, deck 7 Klaus slept the best he had in years....

"Training Run"

Lieutenant Corran "Spots" Rex,
Vanguard 1 (Pat W)

Second Lieutenant Kell "Wraith" Tainer,
Vanguard 2 (Pat W)

First Lieutenant T'Shani "Forgehammer" A'Akledorian,
Vanguard 3 (Matt M)

Ensign Sanoe "Sunshine" Nani,
Vanguard 4 (Kit-Kat)

Ensign "Blue" Tyten,
Vanguard 5 (Matt B)

Ensign Jasmine "Jazz" Heloi,
Vanguard 6 (Laurel)

Ensign Heather "Diamondback" Lewis,
Vanguard 7 (Francis)

Second Lieutenant Jackson "Tex" Stone,
Vanguard 8 (Anyone)

First Lieutenant David "Starbuck" West,
Vanguard 9 (Laurel)

Lieutenant "Fuzzball" Kettch,
Vanguard 10 (Pat W)

First Lieutenant Angelienia,
Vanguard 11 (Robert)

Second Lieutenant Nick "Dead-Stick" Lofton,
Vanguard 12 (Anyone)

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

Vanguard Squadron Facilities
Deck 37
USS Galaxy - A

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

Corran folded his arms and looked out with satisfaction at the newly retrofitted former Marine training area on Deck 37. Where previously, more than a hundred Starfleet Marine Corps ground troops had drilled,trained, and lived, were now quarters for the sixteen personnel officially assigned to Vanguard Squadron ( 12 pilots, three support technicians, and a yeoman), Corran's own office, a Pilot's Ready Room - complete with tactical planning equipment borrowed from the Tactical office's spare parts - a small physical training area, and all eighteen of the newly relocated flight simulators, which had previously been stored and used in various cargo bay across the ship.

He'd had to delay this, the initial full simulation run of the whole squadron for an additional two days since the latest pilots had come aboard that when he'd intended to run it, but the wait had been worth it. Then there'd been an additional delay while the ship was in transit from Quentin to where it was currently docked, here at Wolf Stations. The Squadron now had suitable facilities, with immediate access to Shuttlebay Four, which was only seconds away down the corridor. Granted, he'd had to use up damned near every favor he had with Curtis and Ella to get it done, as well as borrow more than a few people from Engineering. But he could easily pay Suder and Grey back by working in some extra shifts doing odd engineering jobs for them.

Satisfied, the Trill turned his head as the first of his pilots, Second Lieutenant Kell Tainer, entered the room. At 22, and a very recent graduate of the Starfleet Marine Academy, Kell was easily the youngest and most inexperienced pilot in the Squadron. Through long-standing tradition, this had led to his assignment as Corran's own wingman, as a rookie pilot would last longer if paired with the most experienced pilot in the Squadron - which, in this case (as usual) was the CO.

Kell's face had a look of astonishment as he entered the newly laid out room. "I'm sorry. I seem to be lost. I thought this was a Marine training room." the young man observed.

Corran snorted. "If you hadn't been laid up in sickbay with Tellarite Herpes for the last two days, you could have helped."

"Hey, I didn't know she was a carrier." the grinning young human said, hands spread defensively into the air.

"The most-often used excuse of the young." The Trill rolled his eyes and replied as the next pilot entered.

Jasmine Heloi stepped into the newly refitted pilot training facility and released a low whistle of approval. It was beautifully done, and she had already moved into her new quarters (two moves in as many days was not something she generally enjoyed). Now, all that was left was the first true simulator run with the full squadron. Tyten and she had done simulator runs for the past two days, and she was looking forward to seeing how their skills matched up with the rest of the squadron. Then again, she was feeling a little cocky and was looking forward to showing off a little.

She brushed back the one strand of hair that always seemed to get free of the pony tail as she moved to join her CO and someone who she recognized as Vanguard Two, Second Lieutenant Tainer. She had yet to meet him in person, but there was a first time for everything. Jasmine walked up to the two men and smiled brilliantly, "Morning, gentlemen."

The large pressure-doors parted, and T'Shani A'Akledorian strode into the area, like Moses parting the ancient Terran Red Sea.

She was pissed. She had gotten herself all set-up in her *supposed* quarters on Deck Nine, only to be told by the ship's Quartermaster that her living-quarters were now being transferred to the Vanguard area on Deck 37, the very *bottom* of the friggin' ship! Or at least, to her, it was.

~Probably a *trick* of Rex's~ she thought bitterly.

Although her first meeting with her CO had gone somewhat well, she didn't really like the man ~or is it...men?~ ...she wondered, remembering he was an *old* Trill symbiont--that much.

He was *much* too casual and aloof, for T'Shani's tastes. ~Colonel Markay'di'n would NEVER act that way with his squadron~ she thought as she remembered the Deltan flight instructor from her training days.

Usually, she didn't get this worked up about these things, preferring to just forget about the stupidity. But now, in the peak of her mating-cycle window, *everything* seemed to bother her. Not only was her body changing itself for mating-purposes, but all the chemicals in her system were off-balance. ~It's as if the Gods did this on *purpose*, just to punish us women...~ she thought.

She looked around the room. ~Oh, thank Umarin!~ she thought as she noticed the other Marine pilots. ~They're not *all* Fleet weenies~

As the doors parted, Tyten found that some of the Vanguard pilots were already there. He gave a quick nod to Corran. He quickly spotted Jasmine. Moving over to where she was, he gave her a quick smile and a wink. His stomach had butterflies in it. The anticipation of this, the first all squadron simulation, had been driving him nuts. He couldn't wait to get behind the controls of his fighter, even if it was a simulation.

The doors slid open again and Angelienia prowled into the room, sleek in her Marine flight suit, the flattering cut revealing it to be one of the optional tailored versions that had been authorized a year back. The Ktarian Lieutenant paused to look around the refitted room with her green cat's eyes as she smoothed back her hair and nodded once, pronouncing the changes suitable. She caught Corran's eye, saluted, and then began to study the other pilots.

Corran gave the newest pilots nods as they walked in, tossing off a quick salute to the one Angelienia offered. He thought about looking at A'Akledorian and smirking, but decided not to. It was never wise to antagonize an Andorian... too much, anyways. As he was watching, the inseparable pair of Second Lieutenants Jackson "Tex" Stone - a cowboy if he'd ever met one - and Nick "Dead Stick" Lofton, who had the singular distinction of having survived more starfighter crashes than any current on-duty pilot. Corran thought of the young man as a good luck charm. Lewis,West, Nani, and the newest pilot were the only ones not to arrive yet.

First Lieutenant David Harmon West walked into the room with the slightly absent minded professor look that he generally affected during the day. He had been a professor of archaeology before he joined the Marine Corps and he had never truly lost the academic look. He smiled briefly at those pilots he recognized and gave Corran a wave. While he looked the part of a professor, albeit a young professor, he was deadly in the air.

Ensign Heather Michelle Lewis was probably the second most inexperienced flyer in the squadron, though she hoped that her Advanced Fighter Training would help make up for it. Truthfully, the somewhat overeager young woman from a small town in the Arizona desert wasn't really sure how she'd wound up in Vanguard Squadron.

At the moment, though, she was distracted. Having descended from a long line of ranchers, (and having been nicknamed Cowgirl by a group of pilots at Advanced Fighter Training) she was a little sensitive on the subject of western stereotypes. So when she'd met her wingman... That just wasn't right.

... And then she tripped on the door frame coming in, dropping the PADD with her information onto a nearby table, and going down in a tangle of limbs and her duffel bag. "AGH!" She let out an undignified squawk something like that made by a duck, then hit the floor.

Angelienia rolled her eyes and stopped ed the duffel bag with one foot before it hit her. As Heather untangled herself and got back to her feet, the Ktarian frowned and checked the roster, relaxing when she saw that the ensign wasn't her assigned wingman. Once Lewis was standing, Angelienia rolled the bag back to her and shifted positions to placed herself out of potential coffee spillage range.

And that was when "Fuzzball" Kettch, Vanguard Ten, and the most recent addition to the Squadron, strolled in. Or, more accurately, waddled in.

Kettch was very short, after all. At about three and a half feet tall, he only came up to Corran's waist, and resembled a child's toy stuffed bear more than anything else. He'd brought his own fighter with him, a specially modified one scaled and adapted to his shorter arms and legs. Marching straight over to where Corran was standing, he folded his arms, and looked straight up at his old friend. "Yub yub, Lieutenant."

David smiled at his wingman as he came in - he couldn't help the smile since it was always automatic whenever Fuzzball walked in. The First Lieutenant then turned his attention towards Corran and awaited the briefing.

Jasmine watched the Kowe walk in with an identical smile to David's. She had rarely encountered the species, but she personally thought they looked like one of the teddy bears her parents had given her when she was a child. However, she knew better than to treat them like they were nothing but teddy bears. She turned towards her wingman and gave him a quick smile before paying attention to the Lieutenant.

T'Shani noticed Rex looking at her...oddly... ~I hope that sickko in his head...that *Vorrin* does not notice my *cycling*~ she worried. All she needed was for him to *flip* and make an advance on her...although it wasn't as if she couldn't take *care* of herself...she smiled wryly.

Ensign Lewis considered speaking, considered being too embarrassed to speak, then spoke up, addressing Kettch, "How do you reach the peddles and controls, Lieutenant?"

The diminutive pilot looked up at Lewis. "I don't." he chimed in his strangely contradictory squeaky-but-deep voice. "I made the controls come to me."

At Lewis's semi-puzzled _expression, Corran chimed in. "The controls and general canopy on Kettch's fighter have been resized for him. He has an equipment set he can use for other ships that extend his arms and legs."

Ensign Sanoe Nani had run full speed down the hallways, pulling herself together as she did so. One moment everything was fine, the next, she was so late it was disgusting. She hadn't even gotten both shoes on, her left was in her hand as she ran. She hit a lieutenant hard, stunning them both, but she barely broke stride. "SORRY SIR!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Shit, she was so late... late late late... it was the last thing she needed, to be seen as a flake so early on; yeah, they'd find out sooner or later, she was just hoping it would be later when she'd already proven herself. Oh well. Whatever. Maybe they'd kick her out and she'd have to go back to Hawai'i.

Darn.

Sanoe literally flew into the flight deck, the doors almost not opening in time. She tripped over the same step Lewis had, but with the additional momentum (and the already minimal balance from wearing only one boot), her thin five-foot-six frame slid a good fifteen feet on the slick ground. She slid on her boot and stood up in one quick motion, brushing a short lock of sun-bleached blonde hair from her tan Hawaiian face.

"So. What'd I miss?" she asked, breathing heavily and offering a grin.

"Not too much. Just a few introductions. And me tripping over the same door you did. Slightly less spectacular, I hope," Heather Lewis smiled, extending a hand to the Hawaiian pilot. She seemed like a nice enough person in a way similar to herself.

~Oh, Gods help us...~ T'Shani thought as she watched the commotional entrances of the two Fleet pilots. ~Typical...that's *why* the yellow reflective holotape is on the edge of that step...~

She turned around and walked up to Tainer, who was keeping close to Rex. "It is good to see that there are some real *Marine* pilots here, 'Lieutenant," T'Shani said, dipping her antennae to Tainer as he turned around. That last part of her statement was laced with just a *hint* of sarcasm, pointed towards Rex. ~Now would the Marine actually salute, in front of his CO? That would probably piss Rex off...~ she thought, smiling wryly.

Kell raised eyebrows at the Andorian woman, wondering if she was actually complimenting him or insulting the 'Fleet pilots here. He wasn't really sure which. Judging by the half-smirk he'd just seen the Lieutenant try to hide, he decided it probably didn't matter too much. He tossed off a quick salute at the senior Marine officer, and replied. "Ah. Yes, sir. I suppose it is."

"I'm not your CO, Second Lieutenant, so don't call me sir." She said, playing with Kell. She remembered when she had been a lowly Two El-Tee...and even *before* that...when she had been...*shudders*...a Fleeter...

David looked at the Andorian Marine officer with intense interest. Indeed, he looked much like he did back when he examined artifacts for a living. He really wasn't trying to be impolite, but he couldn't understand why Starfleet and Marine officers couldn't just get along. True, he wasn't exactly the standard cut of Marine officer but he had been doing something right to get to the position he was currently at. West just shook his head and returned his attention towards the front.

Jasmine bit her lower lip as she watched T'Shani drop an insult towards the 'fleet pilots. Sometimes, she was truly convinced that no matter where she was or what she did she would encounter some remnants of the nastiness that had partly caused her to leave the acting business. The Betazoid shook her head and turned towards her wingman, "So, what've you been up to Tyten?"

"Oh, you know the usual, trying to stay out of trouble and keep my nose clean," he smirked mischievously, "I was thinking of seeing if the ship had some of the episodes of that show you were in...what was it again?" Heloi grinned and shook her head, "You know there's probably a library of all the episodes. It's called Starfire. You shouldn't have a problem finding it."

"I'll have to check it out." the blue-skinned (male) pilot replied with a toothy grin.

Corran placed his hands back into his pockets, surveying his pilots as they addressed each other informally. Most, if not all of them knew his personality or his tendencies. Of course, it would always be good to keep them on their toes. With that in mind, he called out suddenly, "ATTEN-SHUN! Toes on the inspection line, pilots!"

Kell practically tripped over his feet at the unexpected call to attention, but with the Academy behind him more recently than any of the other pilots, his reflexes kicked in and he was first on the inspection line, standing stock-still, chin high.

Jasmine didn't betray her startlement at the call to attention, but thankfully her reflexes were still good enough to get her next to Kell in the same ramrod straight position. However, her perfect stance did not mean her hair would behave...and as if that were the signal one strand escaped from it's bun and drifted in front of her eyes.

Kettch chuckled somewhat under his breath and moved over to the line, even standing at attention not even coming up to the other pilot's belts.

David smirked as he came to stand next to his wingman. Being on the tall side even for a human, it still amused him that Kettch barely reached his pockets.

T'Shani spun on her left heel, from where she was standing, bringing the toes of her boots into perfect alignment with the inspection line. She stood straight, heels together, hips even, chest out and high, chin and eyes straight, antennae erect and curved slightly forward, hands flat against her thighs.

Heather had been startled, but didn't allow it to trip her up again, toeing the line just after the Andorian woman, who she was already starting to get negative feelings from. That comment about fleet pilots had bothered her. She could fly just as well as any marine, and bias wasn't going to cut it in a combined fleet-marine unit. ~We have to be equals here.~ Lewis kept her face passive, her body rigidly at attention. She had not forgotten her training. Maybe her footing once or twice, but not her training.

Corran watched as the rest of the pilots stepped-to fairly quickly, and grinned. Some of their reaction times had been a little slow - something he was going to have to address. Folding his hands behind him, he ordered the squadron into the at-ease stance, and then addressed the gathered pilots. "If this squadron is going to be the best it can, your reaction times are going to have to be better than that, people. You're going to have to have the reflexes of a Bynar. You're going to have to think fast, and move faster. And you're going to have to know ever single member of your squadron inside and out, especially your wingmate. Out there - and some of you know this, some of you don't - your wing is your life. They're going to be the ones saving your ass, time after time. So we are going to practice, practice, and practice till we've got all that down. And then, when we're done, we're going to fly a mock battle against Jupiter Squadron, the training squadron assigned on-base here at Wolf Station."

The Trill pilot smiled as he heard one of the pilots groan.

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