*This fits nowhere but at the moment aside from a JP I have nothing for Colby to do, perhaps once this refit is done and the ship gets underway I can think of more useful methods to put the operations officer too, until then he only has a brief mention in this.

‘Yujoh’

Captain James N. Kurkland
Captain Michael Alexander Constantine
mention of others

Constantine had a hard stare, a stare that was both unflinching and intimidating. But unlike a lot of mean looking people Michael was, hard faced and hard nosed. Constantine stood at the edge of the court room awkwardly; he and more then half of the other officers in the court room were happy at the result. Some cheered, some threw confetti and others just clapped and grinned madly. Michael Alexander Constantine felt like doing all those things but didn’t at the same time. He was happy for his friend and wanted to cheer for him but didn’t, and not because he wanted to look hard but because he was. His emotions muted save his sternness, happiness, fear and surprise set to the back throwing only small notes compared to the chorus of the others.

Kurkland smiled and lowered his head, looking at the long oak table set before the podium. He closed his eyes and listened to the clapping hands of the officers around him, he smiled at the thought of how many were cheering and how many were pissed as hell. Looking up and opening his eyes on the room Kurkland took up his sunglasses and put them on. He pushed in his chair and turned toward the door and began the walk out. Dozens of hand-shakes and thank-yous later the Captain immerged outside the court room.

“You did alright in there.” Constantine said in a low tone.

Kurkland looked over to Michael, the two hadn’t seen each other in at least five years and James felt at that moment that the trial had been worth it just to meet his ever neutral friend again. “I’m Captain Kurkland, you didn’t think they’d put me in some jail did you?”

Constantine shook his head, “You never know.”

“Have a little more faith in the system Michael. Besides, they need someone to command the Yamato.” Kurkland said, thinking about returning to his ship and taking the chair once again.

“I’m sure Gallagher has enjoyed his stay.” Constantine interjected in a mono-tone. Constantine had heard about Gallagher but had never met the man.

Kurkland rolled his eyes, “Knowing my crew they probably made his stay more then somewhat uncomfortable.”

Kurkland and Constantine moved down the paved walkways of San Francisco, putting more and more distance between them and the court room as they went. The sun hung softly in the pale blue sky as clouds slowly traced their way across the expanse.

“You up there?” Kurkland asked pointing a thumb to the sky.

Constantine nodded, “Refit, re-supply and a new crew.” He sighed and shook his head. “The always give me new officers before sending me out on a new mission.”

“Your old ones are ready for promotion and transfer.” Kurkland replied knowing it wouldn’t change his friend’s mind. Michael wore his phaser everywhere and became a captain out of ability, not out of climbing the ladder with the fewest steps. He wasn’t the sort to take any stock in promotion and transfer; he didn’t see Starfleet as a way to advance but a way to serve. A dieing breed.

“Where are you after the,” Kurkland smiled and raised an eyebrow at the final word, “Re-supply?”

“Romulan Space, there’s talk of removing the Neutral Zone.” Constantine’s tone didn’t allow any of his real feelings on the topic to fall into the conversation. He spoke as simply as if he was ordering lunch, not going into unexplored formally hostile territory.

“Are you serious,” Kurkland stopped and turned to look at his long time comrade. He knew Constantine was serious but he had to ask all the same. Dismantling the Neutral Zone? Free Roaming throughout Federation space for the Romulans? Not to sound too much like his namesake but was it safe to let the roam freely amongst us?

“After the Reman revolt there was a small Romulan civil war. Federation ships on hand helped to stop it and bring peace back to the home world and the High Council. The Praetor has taken this as a sigh of good faith.” Constantine explained.

“And with the fact that Picard blew apart the Scimitar and Shinzon didn’t hurt relations any.” Kurkland added as he ran a hand through his hair. “2293 brought in the era of Klingon peace, imagine, 2380 could be the year the Romulans join that little alliance.”

Constantine shrugged, “If everything moves along well. Then again they could always talk friendly then disappear for a few hundred years.” He looked at Kurkland, “Not like that hasn’t happened.”

“You don’t sound optimistic,” Kurkland joked.

“Aside from not trusting them and not preferring their choice in crew I have faith that I’ll be able to do what I am sent to do.”

“The ever neutral Mr. Constantine.” Kurkland mocked the other man’s mono-tone. “Is there something you don’t agree with about the crew aside from the replacing of officers?”

“Miranda Ericsson,” Michael replied.

“Not familiar.” Kurkland said, his voice held a confused note, a confusion that he genuinely felt.

“She is a diplomatic officer, a provisional captain.” Michael explained and then shook his head, “The last thing I need ass deep in Romulan space is some diplomat questioning every step I take.”

“Not to mention the fact that with her rank she can hold that above everyone else.” Kurkland said in a slightly sour tone. “I mean I don’t know her and I might be out of line saying that but…” he shook his head and sighed, “I have been in too many staff discussions that have ended with someone calling out their rank.”

Constantine nodded but said nothing.

“But shit, what are you gonna do?”

“My job, with her and the new crew,” Michael replied

“Ass deep in Romulan space as well,” Kurkland quipped.

Constantine smirked a little at that, something he rarely did. “That as well. I just hope they put extra torpedoes on the ship.”

“They pack them in tightly, I had one of those.” James said looking to Michael. “Hope yours fares better then mine though.”

“You do fly by the seat of your pants more then I do,” Constantine replied as he began to walk up the stairs to the shuttle landing center.

“I don’t think you put ‘on’ your pants without a plan.” Kurkland replied sarcastically.

“At least I still have my Sovereign.”

“We aren’t gonna pull out our ships and compare are we?” Kurkland asked, his right eyebrow raising above the black rim of his sunglasses. “ ‘Cause I know a guy with a Telnorp battleship.”

The two men stopped as they finished the stairs, they now stood on the large octagonal shuttle paddock. “My shuttle’s prepped for launch.”

“Never time to hang around, always business.” Kurkland said, “You know in high school I would have told you to get a life.”

Michael wasn’t offended by the statement but would have been had he just meet Kurkland. James had a way of getting under skin and getting on your good side, whether or not it was a very large side of your personality. Constantine pointed to the commlink on his shirt, “I have a life.”

“Right,” Kurkland said stretching the middle of the word and rolling his eyes. “Next time we have more time I’ll buy you a drink and we can talk about things. By then we’ll be able to talk about Miss Ericsson and the Romulan situation.”

“Or the Plague,” Michael replied. “Not that there is such a thing.”

James smiled, “Right, there’s just a big ass warship stalking through quarantined space with enough fire power to drop ten ships for fun. No real reason, just out there for fun. But I do need to get back to her, reason or not.”

Constantine turned back as he stepped into the type nine shuttle craft, “Watch yourself out there.” He said simply.

Kurkland smiled, “You watch your ass too.” He then added with a wink “And the diplomats if its worth watching”

The door to Constantine’s shuttle slid shut without a reply for the stone faced Captain. Then that was the way it usually worked out between the two of them, Kurkland had a conversation and joked and Constantine gave small mono-tone answers and both men let without finishing the conversation. But they’d probably pick it up the next time they met. Kurkland watched as the shuttle rose into the sky, moving higher and higher until all that was visible as a silver dot.

“See you around Connie,” James said to the sky before turning and walking to his own shuttle ride. His would be a fair bit longer then a quick jump up to the sky and Utopia Planetia. His would take a lot longer and by the end he would be happy the long range warp shuttle had been sent.

“Captain,” The pilot said handing Kurkland a PADD as the captain stepped onto the sled-like shuttlecraft.

“What’s this?” Kurkland asked looking at the computer PADD.

“A form of data storage?” Coxen replied.

James laughed a little and shook his head, “Thanks Chris.” He crossed the small expanse from the doorway to the seats and sat down. “This is the official transfer notice for Colby Elliot…” Kurkland muttered softly, “Elliot? He worked with STS didn’t he? I liked him.”

Chris shrugged.

“Why didn’t they bring this up before, its dated a month ago.”

“You were on trial to determine your future as a Captain,” Chris replied.

“Yeah yeah, they still shoulda let me know.”

“They just did,” Chris said pointing to the PADD.

“Smart-ass,” Kurkland replied with a chuckle. “Get me back to the Yamato.”

“Yes sir,” Coxen replied as he powered up the shuttle. “The in flight movie has been canceled and we will be traveling about as fast as I can push this little ship.”

Kurkland leaned back in his chair and strapped himself in. “Wake me when we get there.”

“I didn’t want any conversation to break the endless silence.” Coxen joked, “I’ll let you know when we’re home.”

James smiled, “Thanks.”

"Training Run" (part deux)

Lt. Corran "Spots" Rex,
Vanguard 1 (Pat W)

2 Lt. Kell "Wraith" Tainer,
Vanguard 2 (Pat W)

1 Lt. T'Shani "Forgehammer" A'Akledorian,
Vanguard 3 (Matt M)

Ens. Sanoe "Sunshine" Nani,
Vanguard 4 (Kit-Kat)

Ens. "Blue" Tyten,
Vanguard 5 (Matt B)

Ens. Jasmine "Jazz" Heloi,
Vanguard 6 (Laurel)

Ens. Heather "Diamondback" Lewis,
Vanguard 7 (Francis)

2 Lt. Jackson "Tex" Stone,
Vanguard 8 (Anyone)

1 Lt. David "Starbuck" West,
Vanguard 9 (Laurel)

Lt. "Fuzzball" Kettch,
Vanguard 10 (Pat W)

1 Lt. Angelienia "Angel",
Vanguard 11 (Robert)

2 Lt. Nick "Dead-Stick" Lofton,
Vanguard 12 (Anyone)

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

Vanguard Squadron Facilities
Deck 37,
USS Galaxy - A

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

"Allright." the Lieutenant started. "Each one of you knows your wing assignment. Bear in mind that I may change these based on personalities, or if you annoy me.I'll lead One Flight, which is Vanguards One through Four, for now, Jazz will lead Two Flight, which is Vanguards Five through Eight, and Angelienia will lead Three Flight, which is Vanguards Nine through Twelve. Report to your assigned simulator and begin preflight checks. We'll start with a combat-launch scenario. I'll give you more details once we're lock in the sim. Simulation commences in Three minutes. " the Trill stated, looking down at his chrono. "Mark."

Jasmine nodded and gestured for her pilots to follow her to their simulators, "Come on, Blue. Time for our flight to show the others who's best." She flashed her wingman a bright smile that grew to encompass her fellow pilots as they ran towards their simulators.

"I'm right behind you, Jazz. You don't have to tell me twice," Tyten eagerly followed. Heloi slid into the mock-cockpit of her Banzai fighter and pulled the cockpit hatch closed above her. If she leaned forward she could see Tyten in his fighter to her right and Ens. Lewis to her left. As she was starting her pre-flight checklist she keyed her comm to broadcast to her flight, "Two Flight, this is Jazz. Call off your callsigns as you're finished with your preflight."

Corran spun on his own heel after he finished speaking, heading straight into his fighter behind him. Pulling on his helmet, he sealed the simulator cockpit and began startup on his own preflight checks. He had to admit, he'd taken a certain visceral satisfaction about pairing Forgehammer and Sunshine together. They'd either become best friends, or the Andorian woman would attempt to kill her human wingmate. One of the two. Fact was though, he'd assigned T'Shani to his own flight because at a gut level, he didn't trust her. And until that changed, he would be watching her very, very closely.

A'Akledorian spun on her heel and looked over her shoulder at Nani. "Well, *Sunshine*," she said in mock-sweetness, her deep voice resonating, "'looks like your my wing*man*...Let's go, Ensign!" And with that she *ran* to her simulator, looking back quickly to make sure that the young Ensign had been able to make it to her cockpit without tripping over anything.

Surprisingly enough, the lithe young Hawai'i native had. She smoothly (well, smoothly for her - she only banged a knee - ) slid into her cockpit, and tried desperately not to screw anything up.

"Great...Rex's Flight...*perfect*," T'Shani thought sourly as her cockpit sealed itself and recycled the atmosphere. She checked over her systems...

~NAVCOMM...Green. WEPSYS...Green. TACSIT..Green. FLIGHTCOMM...Green. COMPSYS...Green.~

All pre-start systems were 'good-to-go'.

She pressed the induction starter, and felt her simulated Bonzai thrum to life...all engine systems spec'ed out quickly..she was ready to...~What do the Humans call it? Ah, yes...~ "Lead One," she keyed her mike while strapping on her PLSS, "Forgehammer is hot on the stick, ready to *rock-'n-roll!" she said into the private One Flight COMM. At least, that's how she *thought* they said it...

Tyten ran a quick check over his systems status board. All systems were green and a go. He opened the public channel to the rest of the fighters in his flight group. "Vanguard Five is ready to jive. Blue," he smiled, "is ready to shake and bake."

Heather Lewis jogged over to her simulator, a few steps behind her flight leader and the Bolian wingman and slipped into the mockup cockpit. The Arizona youth pressed the starter button and felt and heard the simulator hum to life around her. Quickly checking over her lights and signals, she made sure everything was green. Of course they were, as this was a sim, but you never knew, simulated equipment failure was always a possibility. She'd been through that several times a year at Advanced Flight School. Thumbing her comm, she carefully strapped in and reported in, "Two Flight Lead, this is Diamondback reporting in, Ensign Heather Lewis, ready to fly, ma'am. You ready, Lieutenant Stone?"

Tex drawled back in his easy reply. "I was born ready, Diamondback. Let's rock." came the smooth Texas drawl (possibly an affected one) of Eight.

Angelienia nodded once and moved to her simulator lithely, calling for a check in as soon as she was in position, her hands still moving over the panels in front of her. "Lofton, Kettch, West - sound off as you're clear."

"'Dead-Stick' clear."

"'Starbuck' ready and willing to go," Dave replied as soon as his simulator pre-flight checklist was completed.

"Fuzzball, clear." Kettch chirruped over the comm, noting that Rex had had the foresight to have a specially adapted simulator module. "Uncommonly generous of you, Vanguard One, to get a simulator all ready for me."

Corran thumbed the comm. "Figured you'd need the practice, Fuzzball."

Kettch's only reply was a cross between a snort and a squeak Corran chose (rightfully) to take it as an appropriately amused sound of indignation, and then addressed the entire squadron. "Simulation begins in five... four.. three... two.. one..." he started, and pressed the master control. "Vanguard Lead to Squadron. All pilots in emergency launch. Head out the doors two at a time by wing pairs, form up by flights when we're in the clear. We've got two squadrons of Breen fighters coming in on a fast approach. Galaxy herself is taking on two cruiser. Make sure you stay clear of the big ships guns. Launch!"

The orders came out fast and furious, and Rex was the first one out of the gate, pleased to note that Tainer was right on his wing in the accelerated exit from the simulated shuttlebay.

"Aye, Lead One...One Flights Three..." T'Shani glanced at the vidscreen showing Nani's fighter, "...and Four away!"

T'Shani smiled under the ox-mask as she felt the surge of acceleration...she had turned the inertial dampers down to almost off (like most fighter pilots did), so she could *feel* the moves of her ship.

Vanguard Flights Three and Four of One Flight rocketed out--side-by-side--of Launch Bay Four's massive space-doors.

"Breen Bandits confirmed," T'Shani said over the squadron comm, "I'm reading two full squadrons, confirm, Lead?"

"Confirmed." the Trill came back over the comm to the entire unit. "Break by wing pairs. One Flight, target assignments are coming to your targeting scanners. Feel free not to pass on a target of opportunity."

~Great! Two for each of us! Too bad they're not *real*, though...I could use a few more stars on my hull...~

T'Shani keyed her private One Flight comm: "Forgehammer--Sunshine...ready, Nani?"

"R...ready..." came the slightly timid reply - a reply not matched to the surety of the little blonde's piloting skills.

The Andorian woman took a deep breath and smiled wickedly under her ox-mask. This is what she *lived* for. "Accelerate to attack speed..." she said as she pushed the throttle forward.

Corran fired his own fighter forward, the quality of the simulator not quite (but almost) convincing him that this was for real. "Two, let's show 'em how it's done. Pattern Vaughn Nine"

"Acknowledged, lead. You butter 'em up, I'll knock 'em down." came Kell's easy response. The Kid seemed to be growing a lot more comfortable in a fighter cockpit - a good thing, if the young officer expected to live.

Vanguard One swooped down in an evasive pattern, using a Starburst Twirl to avoid the larger Breen fighter's rotating phaser cannon. Pulse phasers peppered the hull. "Spots, Fire One..." he called out absently as the Breen's shield's lit up. A moment later he heard Tainer's callout as microtorps thundered into the Breen's weakened - and then fallen - shields. The Breen lit up the night beautifully as it turned into a cloud of superheated gas.

"Forgehammer...Fire Three!" T'Shani called out on the comm as she lined up a Breen fighter that was trying to wiggle its way out of her sights, pulling away from the main fight...too bad the sensor locks on these new Bonzai's were so accurate...

~Too bad for *him*...that is~ T'Shani thought as she thumbed the microtorpedo launcher, sending two rounds up the tailpipe of the fucking Breen...

"Fire Three confirmed," she said as she turned her head back. Then, "You&; still with me, Sunshine?"

"Still here. One target down. "

Angelienia scanned her panels as the simulator mimicked a launch into a hot zone and started barking orders. "West, you and Kettch take the Breen marked Gamma Two." She keyed a command as she flipped her fighter over to avoid a shot. "Lofton, you're with me on Gamma One. Stay tight, first on finished double back to help the others and then we work our way back up the chain. Got it?"

"Copy that," David "Starbuck" West replied as he turned his fighter towards the Gamma Two target. He nudged his ship a little faster, one of the best aspects of the Bonzais was their speed.

"Fuzzball acknowledges." the Kowe pilot chirruped. "

Dead Stick just laughed. "I'm on your wing, Lieutenant." was all he said.

"Good - then go." Without another word, Angelienia pulled the fighter over, spun it in a spiral roll around the port pylon of the simulated Galaxy, and closed on Gamma One. The Breen dodged left, then right, then right again, as she closed. "Fire Three," she snapped, and sent a microtorp screaming up the Breen's exhaust trail, already starting to turn away and back to Gamma Two before the explosion that broke Gamma One apart flashed.

David turned towards his wingman, though he couldn't truly see him through the cockpit, "Hey Fuzzball, you ready to take this bogey out?"

"Yub yub!!" Kettch yelled in a battlecry that actually caused some minor feedback to his wingmate's ear. West and Kettch's fighters raced toward the bogey, phaser fire creating glowing streams against the darkness of space. As a backdrop, they saw the Galaxy exchanging fire with the Breen cruisers, nearly blinded when the Galaxy fired it's "BFG".

Jasmine practically jammed herself through the back of the fighter cockpit from the force of her exit from the simulated shuttlebay but she did not appear to be suffering any discomfort. Instead there was a feral grin on her face and a strange brightness in her eyes. It was at times like this that the fighter pilot came alive. "This is Two Flight Lead, One. We're on your tail. Blue, at my side. Diamondback and Tex, take my six. We've got bogies coming in hard from twelve, one, five and eight o'clock from my position."

"Roger that, Jazz." Came Blue's response, closely followed by Tex.

"I'm right behind you, Jazz," Heather said, pulling up behind and to the left of Vanguard 6, "Stay on my right wing, Tex." Watching her er combat screen, she switched her sensors to a more detailed scan, transferring power from her phaser weapons, leaving them as little more than tracers. When the battle was over, she'd have a scan with detailed information on whatever craft she first engaged, such as it's exact make and model, weapons,any modifications, and a lot of imagery. It was an old flight school trick.

Thankfully, in combat, it was no longer necessary to press the comm button, instead any voice talk directed towards another ship was automatically transmitted. Heloi said, "Blue, want to take one o'clock while I take the middle?"

"Copy that. Blue is at one o'clock," he replied as he maneuvered his fighter into the appropriate position. He armed his phasers. He let his targeting crosshairs drift as he scanned the incoming targets. "Give the word and I will engage."

"Lewis here, permission to cross over and back to engage five o'clock with Tex?" Heather asked. She could still try for a missile shot, maybe use the near powerless phasers to distract the enemy fighter until she could get a better lock. In the meantime, she would get the sensor data.

"You have a go, Lewis. Blue, engage!" Jasmine replied even as she pulled a rather daring maneuver with her fighter. When she was a kid, her parents had taken her to an amusement park. It had always amazed her to watch the roller coasters - all the loops, turns, and confusion of the mass of wires and metal. It was in honor of the roller coaster that she did her next movement. The fighter nosed downward and she increased her speed till, if she was in atmosphere, the ship would have screamed. She then pulled the ship into a loop that brought her directly behind the Breen fighter. "Jazz - Fire three!" The microtorp sped out of her firing tube to hit the Breen ship. A second later, the enemy fighter exploded in a fiery blaze. Heloi's smile turned into a wide grin as he spun her ship in a victory roll, "Blue, when you take care of your bogey, join me at five o'clock."

"Copy that," Tyten replied.

The Breen fighter he was assigned to eliminate came screaming towards him, guns blazing. Quickly barrel-rolling, he through himself into an inverted loop. The G-forces of the maneuver pressed him back into his seat a little, giving him a sort of giddy feeling. He quickly fired a micro-torpedo that sliced through the unexpecting assailants' hull. Tyten nearly yawned at the ease that he took care of the Breen ship. Hopefully the next AI pilot would provide for more of a challenge.

"Jazz, this is Blue, now joining you at five."

"Diamondback to Tex, I'm going to cross over and go head to head with the bogey at 5. I want you to tuck in behind me arm your microtorpedoes. I'll distract him with pulse phasers, which I currently have powered down. If I'm right, when I pull away, he'll follow me, and you can tuck in behind and kill him."

"Ah'm right behind you, Heather," Tex said over the comm as he readied himself for the maneuver she was describing.

Lewis whipped her fighter around and locked on with her pulse phasers, opening up with a barrage of low intensity nothing. The Breen fighter immediately began to juke around, not realizing that Heather Lewis was only painting him so she could get better sensor data. Lewis' cockpit missile lock warning system began to scream at her a second later. ~Damn... Wasn't expecting that....~ she thought, but she continued to dive in, head to head with her foe until what she estimated was the last possible moment.

As the missile lock scream gained in intensity, she twisted to the side and down, breaking the lock and pulling sharply away from the enemy fighter. The incoming Breen pilot followed her into the turn, just as she had surmised he would. ~Oh thank you, whoever's watching over me...~ Lewis thought, then began her own evasion. The intelligence she'd just gained would be worth it. ~Switching sensors back over to pulse phasers... Saving data to the black box... I hope Rex approves.... Come on Tex... All up to you... Get in behind and kill him for me.~

The Breen pilot tucked in behind Lewis' spinning and weaving craft and began to fire it's disruptors. Unlike her weapons, his left nothing to the imagination, and were fully powered.

"Tex" Stone dropped his fighter in behind the Breen fighter and began to acquire a missile lock. The fight er ahead seemed to be intent on killing his wingman, however, and decided to press it's advantage, ~Fine, if you want to play it that way.~ Tex grinned, "YEEEE HAWWWW" he shouted as he fire a missile into the Breen fighter's rear, shattering it into a thousand pieces. "How's that for you, Diamondback!"

"Just fine, Tex!" Heather shouted in relief as she pulled her fighter around to form up and reassess the situation. That had been a little closer than she would have liked it to have been.

"Forgehammer, Fire...Two!" Tish called out at a round of pulse-phaser bursts lanced out from her fighter. She looked over to her Head-Up Display to check on 'Sunshine'.

"Good work, Nani!" The girl was actually doing pretty well, having assisted Tish on that last kill.

A red light glowed in Tish's HUD. "Shit!" It was Rex.

T'Shani keyed her mic: "Spots, Forgehammer: you've got a bandit hot on your six!"

Where the hell was 'Wraith', Rex's wingman?

Kell's fighter was drifting, powerless, and Corran's was trailing plasma from one of his engine manifolds. The two pilots had taken out all four of their designated targets when Tainer's fighter had been hit by a stray blast from Galaxy herself, and his own fighter had rammed into Vanguard One. Corran's communications were shaky at best, but he was flying his heart out, narrowly evading every shot from the Breen bandit. "Forgehammer, Spots. Wraith is out. My weapons are gone, I need you to get this gorram bastard off my tail, now!"

"I'm on it, Spots," Angelienia's voice barked out. "Turn to 347 and dive on my signal."

"Acknolowledged." Came the Trill's static-laden voice.

A spray of fire from Angelienia's wingman took out the remaining Breen fighter assigned to their unit as she cut left and spiraled her fighter around to make a nose-to-nose run on Corran's ship. "Break down on four," she snapped, thumb over the firing controls. "One... two..." the fighters rushed towards each other "...three..." Her ship suddenly loomed large in Corran's viewport. "...four... Break!"

Reflexively, Corran dove at the younger pilot's signal, sending his Bonzai into a steep dive that avoided the fire from Vanguard Eleven, turning the injured Breen to dust.

"Much obliged, Eleven. Computer, end simulation." the Trill Lieutenant ordered, and keyed for his simulator to open. As the various pilots of Vanguard Squadron piled out of their simulators he took off his helmet and folded it under his arm. "Allright, Squad. Head to the Team Room. I'll be in there after I go over the sim data. I want you all to review the sim records as well, and find your own - and your wingmate's strengths and weaknesses. I'll say for now, that was a good run. Next one better be better than that though. Dismissed."

"Much Ado About Nothing"

by Dr. Janelle Reynolds
CMO

Sickbay......

Back to the medical journals, Janelle read until her eyes burned and then sat back, rubbing her eyes. She nodded off. She awoke with a start, not realizing that she did. She got up and got herself a cup of java and sat back down, this time, going over the medical records of the senior staff then going from there.

Janelle made a list of those due for their annual physical. It was a long list. It seemed that half of this ship needed their physicals. She hated to make the list out but she did.

Finished with that, she pushed herself away from the desk and got up. With still not much to do, she decided it was time to enjoy life and get away from the Sickbay.

[Backpost]

"Deconstructing Brhode" Part 1 of 2

(Occurs one week before 'First First Contact')

Primary Characters:
Captain Daren M'Kantu
Commander Karyn Dallas, RN

****

USS Galaxy
Bridge
Captain's Ready Room

Captain Daren Runako M'Kantu looked out from the vertical window in his office at the shrinking dot that was the planet Risa. Like everything since he'd been promoted to command of the Galaxy, his first mission had arrived and begun at breakneck speed, forcing him to cut shore leave short and truncate the orderly change of command he'd anticipated.

He turned and looked at the stack of PADDS set to the side on his desk, and the slowly-increasing size of the message queue on his LCARS screen. It didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon, either. With a sigh, he took a last look out the window, appreciating the view, and then returned to work.

=/\= M'Kantu to Dallas. Please report to my Ready Room ASAP. =/\=

****

"Understood, sir." replied Karyn, pausing to gather her thoughts. It had been days since she'd received word that they were receiving a new captain. She had been on Bajor attending Jii's wedding and honestly didn't know what to think.

It was no secret there was no love lost between she and Brhode. Hell, there was a bet going around to see how long it would be before they would kill each other. Oh how things had changed. M'Kantu's bio was extensive, but one couldn't know a CO on a PADD. Normally she'd be pissed about the sudden change, but she knew the majority of the crew had suffered under John Brhode's reign and was rather relieved to be out from under that particular pressure cooker. She prayed that Daren M'Kantu proved easier to work with. Gods knew she didn't have a choice.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Captain's Ready Room

Daren watched the clock while waiting for Commander Dallas to arrive, curious to see what she considered 'as soon as possible' to be, and whether she would use the hoverchair as an excuse to take longer than necessary. He doubted it, but things like that were always good to know.

With a few taps, he called up her file and reviewed the notes he'd made earlier. He had a number of questions to ask, not just about her personally, but about the rest of the crew professionally, especially Lieutenant Krieghoff and Ensign Murphy.

He hadn't quite finished reviewing the notes when the door signaled an arrival and he called out 'Enter' without looking up. She'd made good time; he nodded approvingly, looking at the clock. That was one of the few good things he'd seen in Krieghoff's file - he was punctual if nothing else.

Karyn moved into the Ready Room and was still startled not to see John Brhode behind the desk. The dark skinned male in his place however, seemed equally intense. Karyn simply waited. She was curious to see how he would choose to address her.

"Commander Dallas," M'Kantu nodded, rising and indicating a spot where he'd obviously shifted the chair that normally sat there aside to allow her to position her hoverchair in its place. "I trust your time on Risa was well-spent?"

Karyn smiled politely at his thoughtfulness and moved to the spot M'Kantu had indicated. She saw no need to remark on the wedding, so she simply answered, "Yes, thank you, sir."

"Good," he sat back down as she oriented herself. "Because I'm afraid that I'll be calling you frequently while I get settled in and try to find a way to get my officers working like a team." He nodded towards the stack of PADDS on his desk. "Before I get started here, are there any questions that *you* have?" He waited expectantly.

Karyn considered the question a moment. In her entire Starfleet career, she'd never been given this opportunity. Granted, she had been a mere peon on the Enterprise, a lowly ensign at the beginning of her tenure with Lee Price and a simple blip on the radar for John Brhode, but never at the outset of a new command relationship had she ever been given this chance. So she decided to take advantage of it. "As you might imagine, sir, I'm more than a bit interested in your command style. Captain Brhode, while certainly efficient, had some... difficulty (yeah, that's the ticket!) relating to the crew. It created, in my opinion, some unnecessary tension amongst the crew."

"I can't comment on John Q's command style personally, I've never served with him," M'Kantu nodded. "But he has that reputation, yes." He leaned back in his chair. "As for my own command style..." He thought a moment. "I'm not here to be their father or their best friend, Commander. I'm here do the job that Starfleet is entrusting to me, and to make sure that they're ready to do theirs when and if the time comes. That, at least in my opinion, doesn't involve screaming at them, belittling and humiliating them, or acting like a tin god. I'd rather that the crew stepped up and took responsibility on their own, but if I have to slant the deck to get their feet moving as it were, I'm not above that," he paused, tilting his head to the side. "I don't know if that answers your question, though."

Karyn paused to consider his response. Although she felt guilty for doing so, she couldn't help but compare Daren to Lee. In some ways she felt they approached command similarly. It wasn't about lording power over others, but acting as a leader in order to accomplish goals everyone felt were important. John Brhode had gotten obedience from his crew, but never their respect. The former one could get from a dog with relatively little effort, but the latter took much more effort and represented something much more valuable. Perhaps M'Kantu was making that effort. "For now, yes sir. I think you'll find the majority of the crew will respond well to that approach."

"Since it's the only one I know, let's hope so, Commander," Daren replied. "I think it's a bit late for me to be trying to change course in mid-warp." He picked up a cup of coffee, eyed it suspiciously, took a sip, grimaced, and set it back down. "Have got any other question at this point?"

Karyn smiled. "No sir, although I'd like to reserve the right to ask more questions later should I have them." Already Karyn was feeling as though a weight was lifting off her shoulders. This man was not Lee, but at least he wasn't Brhode.

"If you think of something after you leave, my door is always open, Commander. Just remember that three in the morning is not the best time to open it and get an immediate, well-reasoned answer." Daren waited a moment to see if she had anything else to say, then nodded and continued, "All right then, Commander, let's talk about the crew. Give me your impressions, Senior Staff first, and then I have some specific individuals I want to talk about."

"Fair enough, sir." Karyn sat back in her chair and took a moment to compose her thoughts. "I'm most concerned about Commander Von Ernst. While there's no denying she has made tremendous strides in her career, it has clearly been at the expense of her own personal and emotional growth. In a nutshell, Rebecca Von Ernst is losing herself to this job and the price for excellence has become too high. The objective detachment and logical rationale she uses to deal with the burden of developing her tactical skills and the subsequent burdens of command were once a healthy defense mechanism against emotional stress. As I feared, she has come to rely on them in order to avoid pain under any circumstances, and as a result, she has continued to withdraw emotionally."

She paused long enough to look M'Kantu in the eye and sighed. "Hoth has got her so wrapped up in being the best that she doesn't allow herself to feel, not even in my presence. I've no doubt that emotions still register with her, perhaps even more acutely now, but as long as Hoth is determined to maintain his hold over her, I'm not sure I can make the kind of progress I would like."

Daren nodded. He'd formed a similar opinion after his meeting with Von Ernst earlier in the day. "I understand, Commander. I'm not certain what I can do about that, though. Is she attending regular counseling sessions? Should she be, or would that be pointless until she decides that they'll help?"

Karyn frowned, there was the sticking point. "I want to see her on a more regular basis, Captain, but she's convinced these sessions are a waste of her time, a view that was supported by Captain Brhode I'm afraid. You and I can order her to attend therapy, but we'd be relating to her on a level that supports her current demeanor. My hope is that if you can approach her in a less formal manner, she might see the value of therapy since it would be coming from someone with no professional connection to Jurgen Hoth."

"I'm willing to try, although I'm not certain that it will work immediately. Perhaps after she's had a little more time to adjust to my being here it'll have a greater chance for success, but not right now." Daren thought a moment. "I'll see what I can do about giving her more non-tactical assignments that don't require reporting back on each stage in the meantime. Maybe that will help some until she's comfortable enough for the other."

Karyn nodded. "I'm not interested in making her feel like the bad guy, I just want to give her time to regroup, to take a breather. Whether she knows it or not, she needs time to feel."

"Time is something I can't guarantee, Commander, no one can. I'll do my best, but the universe runs on its own schedule and only rarely sees fit to inform us of upcoming events." Daren picked up a nearby mug, took a sip, made a face, and set it back down. "What about the rest of my Senior Staff?"

"Well, considering what they've been through. If you'd asked me a year ago who to watch out for, I would have said James Corgan, but he's matured a lot since he first arrived. Reynolds is new to us, and everyone else stays relatively quiet and focused on their work. You'll find Jeremy Savoie more than a bit abrasive, but he knows how to fly and Brhode knew how to keep him in line, so as long as you help him toe the line, you should have no problems."

"I'll keep that in mind, Commander - but I doubt that I'll be using the same techniques that Captain Brhode did. His reputation for... bluntness... leads me to believe that whatever the method he used, I'd find it offensive." Daren braved another sip of his coffee. "Are there any other issues likely to pop up with the Senior Staff, or can we turn our attention to some specific individuals?"

Karyn smiled and shook her head. She liked this man already. Perhaps the gods had smiled on them after all. "No, sir, I'm fine for now. How may I help you?"

"I have a few individuals I want you to help me understand." Daren picked up a PADD and scrolled down a list on it. "I've got three names at the moment, but I'm certain there will be more before I'm done. Let's start with. Lieutenant Ella Grey." He looked up as he set the PADD down. "Tell me about her."

"Ella's a hard worker who's beginning to see the value in opening up to others. She's been through a lot in the past few years, but she's been coming to counseling regularly and I'm optimistic about her progress. I'm more concerned about helping her to deal with her emotional issues than I am with getting her to talk. Going mute was her way of taking back some of the control she'd lost. Talking may or may not come with time, but that's the symptom and not the illness."

"She's fit for duty then?"

"Absolutely, sir."

Daren nodded. "Good." He glanced at his PADD. "Ensign Kira Murphy, then. What can you tell me about her?"

She sighed quietly and considered her words carefully. "Kira can at times be a discipline problem. I can tell you she gets the job done in a crisis, but has a tendency to act out when bored or forced to deal with authority. There are some...mitigating circumstances which are contributing to this problem, and I believe she can make progress with continued counseling."

[Backpost]

"Deconstructing Brhode" 2 of 2

(Occurs one week before 'First First Contact')

Primary Characters:
Captain Daren M'Kantu
Commander Karyn Dallas, RN

****

She sighed quietly and considered her words carefully. "Kira can at times be a discipline problem. I can tell you she gets the job done in a crisis, but has a tendency to act out when bored or forced to deal with authority. There are some...mitigating circumstances which are contributing to this problem, and I believe she can make progress with continued counseling."

"Does she require extra duty to keep her occupied? I can arrange that, but I'm only willing to do so if it's going to actually help the situation. I'd rather that she learned to deal with things herself."

"So would I," Karyn returned wryly. "Under the circumstances I'm afraid extra duty will be perceived as punishment and only exacerbate matters. I'll continue to monitor her, and see where things go. Perhaps once her self-esteem has improved, a change of pace will do her some good."

"All right then," Daren nodded. "When I speak to her, I'll keep that in mind." He made a note on the PADD, set it down and looked up again. "Before we turn to the next person on my list, are there any other observations that you can share regarding her?"

Karyn frowned. "I'm not sure I follow you, sir. Was there something in particular you've observed that you'd like put into perspective?"

"Yes." Daren hated asking questions like this, but it was part of what went with the 'big seat' so he'd learned to do it. "Do you think that she's really improving with the sessions, or is she merely learning what to say and when to say it in order to make it look like she is?"

Karyn grew thoughtful. "I believe Kira wants to improve. I won't deny she tries to play me, but when she does, I know it, and we get down to work."

"Thank you. The next individual up is the last for now, but the one I've the most concerns over: Lieutenant Victor Krieghoff, from Security." Daren leaned back and steepled his fingers. "What can you tell me about him?"

Karyn did her damndest not to react in any way that would indicate she was less than professional where Victor was concerned. *Yes, sir, he attacked me and tried to rape me. But we've talked and we're fine now. He's one helluva guy, sir.* "He's a dedicated and exemplary officer, although he is quite the loner. He struggles with social interaction, however, and has a tendency to isolate himself, I believe, because of low self-esteem. Counseling has helped to draw him out."

One eyebrow rose. "Counselor, the man's personnel jacket looks like a Christmas tree it has so many flags on it. He's been involved in more violent incidents than the average Fleet Marine Unit, resorts violence so casually a Klingon would be appalled and with a lack of detachment that a Romulan would envy." He nodded towards the PADD. "Just this morning, I received a petition signed by eighty percent of his own department asking me to have him transferred before he kills one of them - and they felt strongly enough about it that they made an end run around their department head to send it." He shook his head. "I'm curious as to how you can call that 'struggling with social interaction.'"

"Because that's what it's become." replied Karyn succinctly. "With all respect, Captain, I know what you're talking about, believe me, I do. I know Victor has problems, but others have let them snowball. No one has attempted to work with Victor, and *everyone* has written him off. It's gotten to the point where he's reacting violently because it's all he believes he is or can ever be. I have to believe there's more to it than people have taken the time to see." The last she said with the conviction of someone trying to convince herself. "I'm afraid what it will do to him emotionally if we give up on him. Anger and violence are masks for pain in most cases. He does what we ask of him and more, even when doing such things, seeing such things is tearing him apart. I won't abandon him."

"Counselor, if what's in the man's file is even remotely accurate, no one can be in the same room with him long enough to interact with him." Daren called up something on the PADD. "Aside from the petition from within his department, there are no less than six transfer requests from Betazoids that have come in since I arrived, all citing the Lieutenant as the reason they have to leave this vessel. One of them is in Sickbay right now, after they fled the man's presence in such a state that they went off the edge of a catwalk." He shook his head. "Even if Krieghoff isn't doing this on purpose - something I'm not convinced of - he represents a danger to the crew simply by being aboard."

"So what would you propose to do? Drop him into the vacuum with a warning buoy? You said no one can be in the same room with him long enough to interact with him, and that's simply not true. Most people don't *want* to interact with him or don't know how to. I do, and I want to. Do whatever you have to. Drop me off at a Starbase or a medical facility if need be. I'm not giving up on him, and that's that, sir."

Dallas wasn't quite sure what her motivations were in that moment. Maybe she really did think he deserved to be helped, and maybe she was fighting too hard to believe something she desperately needed to believe was true. Either way, she knew with certainty she was not finished with Victor Krieghoff.

"I'll keep that in mind, Commander. To be honest, what I intend to do at the moment is locate a posting where his talents are useful and where he will have minimal need to interact with people in a confined environment. He does perform well when left to his own devices, and I'd rather see him in a position where that were possible than just shuttled from ship to ship the way he's been thus far. I just haven't located such a posting yet - but I will. It's a big galaxy, and sooner or later the right position will turn up."

"Has anyone spoken to Victor about this, sir?"

"No, Commander, I haven't had my interview with him yet."

Karyn simply nodded. She would need to speak to him afterward. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me until I do something to deserve it, Commander. If, after meeting him, I still believe the Lieutenant is a threat to the ship's crew, I will transfer him. I'll do my best to find him a post where he'll be able to be a useful member of the fleet, but no matter what, I will transfer him - even if that means transferring you as well. I have too many lives I'm responsible for to do otherwise."

"Understood sir." She could understand where he was coming from, and perhaps in an earlier time might have supported him, but something in her had changed. She was not the same woman anymore, and yet it was hard to make sense of her feelings.

"All right then, I just have one more question and then we're done here for now." He looked down at the PADD again, checking his notes. "What do you believe is the single biggest problem with the Galaxy's crew?"

Karyn sat back and smiled. M'Kantu certainly knew how to get the heart of the matter. After musing on it a moment or two, she replied, "I think we're too independent. Oh, we know how to work together to get a job done, but it's only because each of us knows our own strengths and weaknesses and knows what it takes to get it done. I'll be candid with you, sir, Brhode had a way of making all of us feel as though we didn't have the sense God gave a fruit fly. He'd order us to do things and then when we did them, he'd tell us why we had failed him. Praise was very seldom given, and when it was, it was not directed toward anyone he deemed unnecessary, namely those of us in support services. I'm not asking for sympathy, only illustrating the fact that as a result, we got very good at being damn defiant. Perhaps it was his way of bringing us together, of forcing us to realize why we were out here, but what he got was a crew who took little pleasure in their work, gave him the respect they had to, and followed because that's what they'd signed up for. Speaking personally, I love my job, but it's a helluva lot easier when I have a CO I actually want to support emotionally. If you're struggling, you'll know I'm there for you not just because it's my job, but because I want to help you through it."

Daren thought for a moment. "What do you suggest as a course of action to correct this problem?"

Karyn smiled. "Treat us like people who know what we're doing because we do. Ask us for help and advice, and tell us what it is you're trying to accomplish so we're on the same page. I'm not suggesting that you run this ship by committee or that in a crisis you should take time to dole out the pleasantries, but rather build up a trust that can be cashed in during those times. We know you're the captain, we know you have the final word, and we respect you because of your position. You don't have to work at that, but you do need to let us get to know you as a person, if only so you can come to see us as people too. This crew wants to support you and give you two hundred percent of their effort, you need only let them."

"That's not going to happen overnight, Commander," Daren pointed out. "There's no magic wand to wave for moments like this. While we're waiting on that to happen, is there anything I can do for a more immediate morale booster?"

Karyn smiled, trying not to react as if he'd told her something obvious and simply said, "Go visit your crew, Captain. Go to their departments and see who they are and what they're doing. Get to know them. I guarantee that will get you results."

"Easily done," he nodded. "Is there anything else, Commander?"

Karyn shook her head. "Nothing I can think of on my end, sir, are you comfortable?"

"As comfortable as I'm likely to be under the circumstances, Commander. Anything else takes more of that time I haven't had yet."

She smiled and nodded. "I understand, sir. If there's anything I can do, please let me know."

"A Friendly Face"

By Commander Karyn Dallas,
Chief Counselor

And
Ensign William Giardini, Surgical Resident

=/\= Deck Fourteen, Section Twelve: Giardini's Quarters =/\=

William was looking at his computer reading about the Galaxy when he stood up. Looking around his quarters he decided that he would take a walk and stroll around the corridors. Exiting his quarters and starting to walk down the corridor, he stopped and looked at the deck directory. ~~Ahh, the Counseling Department is on this deck. I should stop by~~ William thought to himself as he started to walk towards the Counseling Area.

=/\= Deck Fourteen: Counseling Department =/\=

William entered the Counseling Department and looked around. He started to admire the paintings on the wall as stood in his place.

"Greetings, Doctor," said Karyn Dallas, making her way to the reception desk in her hoverchair. "What brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"Well, I am new in the area, and I wanted to introduce myself. Doctor William Giardini. I am working under Vladimir Malgin." William smiled and held out his hand. "How are things down here today? Do you think I could get a tour?"

Karyn shook his hand and chuckled. "You know, other than new counselors, I don't think anybody's asked that before. This is reception..." A tall blond behind a large console waved. The rest of the space was open except for couches along one wall. "This is where people wait to be called back, and up this ramp,"she coasted up the ramp that replaced the stairs, "are the offices and conference room."

William glanced, "Commander, may I ask what happened to you? If it is none of my business, just say so." William smiled at her as he looked around.

Karyn looked puzzled for a minute and then laughed. "Forgive me, it's just that I've been working with this group here and on the old Galaxy so long that I tend to forget I'm much different than they are. Long story short, I was born two months too soon. My lungs were naturally too immature to take in oxygen, and before the medical staff could offer me treatment, this sparked a brain bleed which compromised gross and fine motor skills as well as balance. I was officially diagnosed with cerebral palsy and given a hoverchair at te age of two. I have biomechanical legs that I can use for away missions and such, but they're not especially comfortable for the long-term. Truthfully, I sometimes feel like a clown on stilts when I use them."

"It seems that you are handling it well. I had the opportunity to meet your Assistant, Adrian. A very nice fellow. He has made me feel very welcome. How long have you been on the Galaxy?" William looked around as he walked up the ramp.

"Adrian's a dear friend," Karyn agreed, "and an excellent counselor." She looked pensive for a moment. "I've been with one USS Galaxy or another for five years now. The original Galaxy was my first post as a commissioned officer. How about you, serve anywhere else?"

"This is actually my first post. Can you tell I am a little bit nervous?" William sat down in a nearby chair.

Karyn smiled. "I had noticed it a bit," she replied, "But don't worry, I'd be a lot more concerned if you weren't nervous. Don't beat yourself up for it. This," and she gestured all around her, "is a lot to take in at first."

William stood up and turned to Karyn. "Would you care to grab dinner some day? Maybe get to become friends?"

Karyn raised an eyebrow in surprise. She couldn't say she'd been asked out by an ensign before, and truth be told, it had a long time before she'd been asked out by anyone. "Sure... I have to say, I admire how you put your intentions right out there. For most people, becoming friends just sort of happens."

"My mother always used to tell me to just be straight-forward and don't beat around the bush. I hope you don't mind." William smiled and sat back down.

"Why would I mind?" Dallas asked amused. "Unless of course you've already tried to pick up another member of the senior staff." She was suddenly very serious. "You haven't done that have you, William?"

William smiled, "No, I'm just looking to make a lot of friends."

Karyn looked at him for a long moment and wondered if she would regret this later. *Oh what the hell!* Dinner was ok as long as there were clear boundaries. "I will have dinner with you, but on one condition. This is under no circumstances a date. Got it?"

"Karyn, you have my word." William smiled and turned to leave, "Pick you up in a couple of hours?"

"Ow."

By Ensign T'Pol (8-ball) Hunter

8-ball carefully lowered herself on the bed, easing gently as to not further injure her already broken body. "Ow, ow, ow, ow," she muttered and finally relaxed on the bed, easing her sore muscles into the semi-comfy cushion under her. Ah, finally. She had the night off to sit and relax and not move ever, ever again. The Borg could come and invade right now. As long as she didn't have to get up, they could come assimilate her till the cows came home.

No more moving. Ever ever again.

Until.

Visions of the hot fudge sundae she had promised herself went through 8-ball's mind. Her jaw, nice and healed now, could actually eat all the ice cream in the world, but she had forgotten to replicate it before she went to lie down. Now the expanse of the whole room stood before her and the replicator which held her beautiful, beautiful sundae. 8-ball looked across the room. It seemed to expand for miles.

"Dammit," 8-ball said and slowly rolled over and got back up again. She slid off the bed and took a step forward. "Ow."

"Ow."

"Ow."

"Ow."

Finally, after a long, treacherous journey, 8-ball made it across the room. "Hot fudge sundae," she told the machine. "No nuts."

The replicator produced the divine hot fudge sundae and 8-ball made the long journey back.

"Ow."

"Ow."

8-ball held the sundae carefully over her head as she sank back down on her bed. Finally. Finally, she could eat her sundae in peace and be as lazy as she wanted to be.

She started to bring the sundae down from above her head when the door chimed, startling the hell out of her. The dish slid out of her grasp and the ice cream plopped directly on her head.

Open-mouthed, she sat, with globs of ice cream melting down the side of her face. She stared at the door. "Come in."

The door opened. A young ensign whom she had never seen before stared at her. He stared at her, bewildered. The image was priceless. Some poor guy walks into the wrong room and finds himself staring at a half-Vulcan with ice cream in her hair. It was just too funny. As much as 8-ball wanted to cry and scream and kick in frustration that the ice cream she had worked so hard to achieve was now in her lap, 8-ball couldn't help but bow over and laugh her ass off.

The ensign, now extremely confused, stepped backwards. "Ahhhh, ummmmm, wrong room," he said and dashed off.

8-ball tried to stop laughing but she couldn't. Slowly, she got off the bed again This had been one hell of a day. Fighting, kissing, undressing blue giant people, getting the shit kicked out of you, fighting, ice cream falling on your head. One hell of a day.

Still laughing, she made her way over to the sonic shower to wash off the remnants of the hot fudge dessert.

"Hahahaha. . .ow. . .hahahaha. . .ow."

"Exchange Zone"

Primary Characters:
Captain Daren M'Kantu
Captain Eliza Stuart

Secondary Characters:
SCPO Sitaan

****

USS St. Lawrence
Deck 1
Cockpit

Eliza thought that it was a huge step up from the Excelsior.  Unfortunately, it really was somebody else's ship, which made the simple fact that she was coming to take command in his stead a little... injurious to their relationship.  An FDTI investigation was one of the things that starship captains dreaded from within the Starfleet Command beaurocracy.  A court martial from Rear Admiral Jellico was another one.

"Well, Mister Sitaan, what do you think?" Captain Eliza Stuart, until recently the master of the USS Halifax, asked her Vulcan shuttle pilot, who had brought her from Utopia Planitia to Wolf 359.  She considered how upon first contact, some had thought  that Vulcans, with their sharp looks and pointed ears, were in fact the devil come to Earth.  Hardly fitting, considering the Vulcans she'd known since, but still.  This was rather like being ferryed across the Styx by Charon.  But Charon hadn't been a devil, had he?  She frowned, before Sitaan brought her attention back to the matter at hand.

"The Galaxy Refit has many positive attributes," Sitaan replied as he maneuvered their transport between the warp nacelles, transmitting Captain Stuart's docking authorization.  "However, it has been fraught with minor design flaws and is still considered very much unproven."

Stuart nodded at his assessment.  "Well, with any luck, my next assignment should prove uneventful, and I'll be bringing her home in the same condition in which I recieved her. Besides, they're in refit now, to solve some of that."

Sitaan let her comment pass, and reported the shuttlebay chief's message, "We have been granted permission to dock in the main shuttlebay.  Captain M'Kantu would like to speak to you in his ready room upon arrival."

"Thank you, Mister Sitaan, you may proceed," Stuart kept her thoughts to herself.  Admiral Hoglund had told her to expect a meeting with him before his departure.  That was unfortunate.  She had been rather hoping for Captain M'Kantu to be waiting to leave.  But then... What good starship commander would leave his ship in the hands of another without some words of advice?  She would take them in good stead.

A few moments later, the St. Lawrence touched down on the flight deck of the USS Galaxy.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Captain's Ready Room

Daren looked back from the viewport as the door signal sounded. ~ Stuart.  Right on time. ~ "Come in," he invited, turning to face the door. ~ Odd. I haven't been here more than two months and I'm already reluctant to depart, even for a short time. There's something about this ship that gets under your skin quickly. ~

"Captain M'Kantu, a pleasure to meet you," Eliza said as she entered the room, extending her hand, "I'm sorry that our first meeting couldn't take place under better circumstances."  ~ Hmm... He's considerably taller than I had pictured him... ~ she thought, feeling very small at 5'6", ~ An imposing figure at best...  But then, that's part of why he was chosen.  Because he didn't fit either the Hawk or Dove perspective.  Probably better that way. ~

"Captain Stuart," Daren smiled as they shook hands. "Likewise a pleasure - and likewise I wish it were under better circumstances." He nodded to the bag waiting by the private turbolift that opened into the Ready Room. "I'll try not to take up too much of your time before I get out of your hair."

"Much appreciated," Eliza nodded, "We're going to be very busy here soon.  I'm afraid both yours and my requests be back-burnered have been by and large ignored.  I can't tell you everything, but I'm sure you'll appreciate knowing this much.  The Galaxy will be headed for the Rihannsu border to look for a starfleet vessel that dissapeared whie on patrol there recently.  That is, as soon as I'm settled and the crew is recalled."

"In that case, I'm even gladder I stayed," Daren sighed. He handed Eliza one of the three data chips he held in his hand, the color bar on this one red, the two he retained blue and yellow. "I recorded some observations and thoughts on the ship and the crew you should try and take a look at before things get too busy.  I've taken the liberty of having Counselor Dallas clear her schedule so she will be available to talk to you about any of the individuals I mention in there, or any of the situations I discuss that you  need to be aware of." He smiled sadly.  "I've never served with a crew where there were so many minefields scattered about, waiting for someone to fly into them - or one that had the potential to do as much as the Galaxy's does if they can just learn to pull together."

Stuart nodded, "I appreciate this.  Lesser officers would have allowed me to walk into this unprepared.  I'm glad you appreciate your duty to your ship and crew."  She paused and thought for a moment, "How well does the command team interact?"

"Awkwardly," Daren conceded reluctantly. "My Number One is of Hoth's tactical prodigy's, but she's been pushed too hard and too far too fast and needs time to get her feet back under her. My Liaison Officer is a Kelvan with all the baggage that brings, the Intelligence Officer is a Nietzchean with his own baggage, and one of my two best Tactical Officers is a Romulan exchange officer that appears to have been farmed out to buy time for a disgrace back home to be forgotten.  They're all good officers, but they all work independently of each other right now."

Stuart nodded, "Yes.  I've been there.  My last ship was an Excelsior-Class Medium Cruiser, the USS Halifax.  We had a liaison officer as well, an Andorian named th'Harnna.  He was...  very, very aggressive.  My CMO had ROTCed into Starfleet and remained there because it was steady work.  She  had protocal issues.  Of course, I also ROTCed in, so I had to be sympathetic.  Building an effective command team is always the challenge."

"How long do you think you'll be away?  I won't pretend to understand what's happening with FDTI, since I'm on a need to know basis as far as what's going on," Stuart said, suddenly wishing for somewhere new to place her eyes.  She settled on the outside viewport, looking at the USS Pershing, dwarfed by them, in the next slip over.

"Honestly? I have no idea," Daren sighed, putting the remaining two chips away in his bag. "Probably for the duration of the mission they've assigned you in any event, perhaps longer, if they have a lot of questions." He straightened up.  "Perhaps permanently if they don't like the answers - or lack thereof - that I have for their questions. I simply don't know."

Eliza nodded grimly.  "Very well.  Let's hope that they are pleased by your answers.  In the mean time, I'll keep her safe for you," she paused for a moment as the two of them enjoyed the silence of the moment, "I left the St. Lawrence running.  There's been a change of plans however, and you're to take the runabout only a few systems away, where my former XO, Captain Sven Aethelstan, will be waiting with the Halifax to pick you up and return you to Earth at a somewhat faster speed.  Emergency warp has been authorized."

Daren smiled. "A mixed blessing, but a welcome one I suppose. Anything that gets this over faster is fine with me - even if it's just the DTI's wanting to start sooner." He made a short bow. "She's yours, Captain. Good luck and Allah be with you." He picked up his bag and offered a more traditional hand to shake. "She's a good ship and they're a good crew - but neither of them knows it yet. Everything happens for a reason; maybe this is part of the process that will let them know."

"Indeed sir," Eliza replied, grasping his hand and returning his smile. "God willing, you and I will meet again in a few weeks, months... Soon. In the meantime, I'll take care of your crew on the Rihannsu border."

M'Kantu nodded, and took the turbolift down.

"Suicide of Deliciousness"

Erik Stiener,
Shopowner(APC)
John Macintosh, Tourney Referee and Random Civilian (NPC)

Location: 10-Forward

"Barkeep, I require a Blue Rasberry Water Ice, A Cherry Water Ice, a Watermelon Water ice, all a third full, and an Extra Glass."
The Bartender quickly returned with the order. "Oh yes, I forgot, bring me a bottle of Vodka as well. I need that little extra flavor."
He returned again, Erik paid him and went to a table.

He started to mix them all in the empty cup. "Ahhh.....Suicide of Deliciousness!"

Macintosh had been milling around the ship like a lame insect and had seen a new person to cling to. "Hey Man, Whatcha doin."

Erik, unknowning of the danger, opened up. "It's my favourite little snack. I can't tell ya whats in it, it's a trade secret."

"Mind if I sit down and hang out?"

Erik had no objections, simply motioning for the guy to sit down. "Did you see that one fight I refed? The one between the security officers?"

The way John said it showed a complete lack of intellegence. "No.....I can't say that I did."

"Too Bad, it was great." He laughed with the most despicable annoying chuckle that a human could ever produce.

Erik's only friend was the Suicide of Deliciousness. -Must end this now! I swear he's stolen 20 points of my IQ already.- "Thats too bad. So what do you do?"

"I sell Cleaning Equipment."

Erik Quickly scarfed down the drink and stood up. "Um, you'll have to excuse me, I'm a civilian consultant for Engineering and I need to get up there."

"Of Course my friend. Wanna hang out tomorrow?" He said with the biggest stupidest smile anyone could ever muster.

"No, I'm pretty busy tommorow."

Erik damn near ran out of 10-forward, while Macintosh sat at the table, too stupid to realize that he wasn't wanted.

OOC: takes place after "Going Round In Circles??"

"Opposites Attract? - Part I"

Lieutenant (jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer

Lieutenant (jg) Michael McDowell
Engineer

*** Main Engineering, End of Gamma Shift ***

Another shift had ended. It had been more eventful then others, Michael had to admit that. The most curious occurrence had been the report of a baby Rhino running amok on the ship! He still had no idea how that was possible. As far as Michael knew there was no Zoo around on the Galaxy. Things kept getting crazier by the day. ~Quick virus 'attack' for sure.~ Michael thought, already feeling a headache coming up when the possibility surfaced. Seems that lately he was thinking and working on nothing else then that creepy, and hazardous virus.

He took in a deep breath. Luckily he didn't have to think about it for a while. After tapping his combadge he said, "McDowell to Eshe. I'm done for today. What's for dinner?" He chuckled while he spoke out the last words.

Dhanishta took a deep breath as again she pulled her self up on the bar she was doing chin ups on. As she lowered herself her combadge beeped from the desk, dropping to the floor she grabbed a towel and began to dab away the sweat. Hearing Michaels voice she smiled.

Picking it up and tapping it she said in a sickly sweet voice,

“Hey honey! The replicator is playing up. Guess we’re eating out tonight. Meet you in Ten forward, in fifteen minutes?”

All who where standing in the vicinity of Michael were suddenly completely quiet. They looked at him as if they just had heard the impossible. Next the others in Main Engineering followed, knowing something was going on, and looked his way.

Michael just stood there, nailed to the ground and keeping his breath in. What did she just say!? His face flushed red. He slowly began to walk out of Engineering while uncomfortably smiling at everyone that stared at him. Just meters outside he finally dared to answer Dhani.

"Dhani? What were you thinking!? You, you...!" That was as far as he got. He didn't know what to say anymore.

A hysterical laugh could be heard over the com line, “If you like I could meet you *in* engineering?” she asked, continuing in a sweet tone as she busied herself getting ready.

"Oh no, not in a million years!" Michael hissed, but in the end he too had to laugh a bit, though he tried to hold it in. He could see the funny side of it. "I'll be with you shortly. So be ready, okay?"

“I’ll be ready.” She replied.

"Right. See you in a few minutes. McDowell out." Michael grinned somewhat. Though the last few minutes had been embarrassing, he just couldn't be angry at Dhani for long.

*** Five minutes later ***

Michael rang the chime and waited for a response of Dhani. He had to admit, he was kind of nervous. The last time he had dinner with a woman was years ago.

The doors slid open, the lights were low. From across the room something glimmered as the light reflected off the sequence on Dhanis dress. She moved seductively across the room her hips swinging from side to side like a snake, her head was hung low, her hair falling either side making it impossible to see her face. Less than a foot away from Michael, who seemed to have sprouted roots, she stopped and look up, her head stayed down, just her eyes moved. The light from the corridor illuminated her face. Her dark green eyes glimmered mischievously as coy smile creped across her face, “Too much?” she asked gesturing the silver sequenced gown she half wore.

Michael kept silent and just stared with his mouth halve open, not able to say anything. "Uh,...no, no...it's not too much. It's, erm,...okay." Remembering he was still in his uniform he said "But, I thought...?"

“Yeah,” Dhani replied, “thought so.” Turning around she unzipped her dress. As it fell to the floor she stepped out of it. Underneath she wore black trousers and an off the shoulder top. “I’m never going to get to ware that dress!” she joked. After slipping on a pair of flat shoes she linked her arm in Michaels. Pulling him lightly she said, “Come on, I’m starving!” she couldn’t help but smile, watching Michael squirm like that was pay back enough for him throwing her in the spotlight after her promotion. And the hollo pictures she’d taken, she would save for evidence!

Dhani was so different like any woman he'd met. She was so unpredictable. Michael walked along with Dhani, while thinking how strange this must look to the others that passed by. He didn't feel comfortable with how Dhani held him. It made them look like more then friends. But at the same time he did like it. These contradicting feelings kept Michael quiet and thinking,...pondering how he had to deal with this. Dhani gave Michaels arm a friendly jostle, anything to try and loosen him up. It was like walking with a bulkhead! “So where you wanna go? Mess hall, or Ten Forward. Or…?” she questioned.

"Huh?" Michael felt the tug and looked at Dhani. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not really good company, huh? What were you saying?"

Dropping his arm she stopped and turned to him, “Where do you want to eat?” she asked again suppressing a sigh.

Michael kept his breath for a moment. This was not going right. Dhani's reaction told him enough. "Uh...I think we should go to Ten-Forward. There's no one in the Mess hall at this time." He said in the end. "And, I know, I'm not quite myself. Thinking too much. But it won't happen again. I'll be good from now on." Michael gave Dhani his innocent boyish smile and hoped she'd buy it.

For a moment she just looked at him. And then the air around him, and then down the hall behind him. Like a tricorder scanning for abnormalities. Eventually she returned her focus to his face. Taking her index finger she jabbed him in the middle of his chest, “You will have fun!” she stated with a pout.

"I hope so. That's the whole idea I guess." Michael smiled again. Maybe he was really worrying too much. "Now, ready for something to eat?"

“Starving!” she replied ushering him in the direction of Ten forward.

OOC Note – this takes place before Ahdjiia and Saladin got married. And I will let all know the order of my posts when I work it out lol, Dru.

"Touching base"

By Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe –
Engineer

And
Lt. JG Ahdjiia D'Tinya, Security

*Ten Forward*

Dhanishta sat at the ‘brooding’ table in Ten Forward. Within the shadows she stared numbly into her drink. After all the recent events and the counselling sessions that’s all she felt. Numb! Numb, cold, dejected…. The list went on. And so she sat, bored to her wits end.

Ahdjiia was in her civilian attire as she noticed Dhani sitting off to the side. As it had been ages since she'd last seen the engineer, she walked over with her water to at least say hello. "It's been a while." she said with a soft smile beneath her mantilla.

Dhanishta looked up, for a change she was glad to be disturbed, “Hi.” She replied.

It took a while for Dhani to recognise the person who stood before her as the veil hid Ahdjiia’s features. Dhani continued to stare at the person for a few minuets more trying to work out who she was. Then she spied the spider tattoo on Ahdjiia’s belly, there was only one person on this ship that would have a tattoo like that, “Ahdjiia?” Dhani half questioned her face lighting up with half recognition as she stood up to greet her.

"Indeed.", she said as she sat down, "We have not seen each other since we first came aboard." Inwardly Ahdjiia had an odd feeling of they had been around each other more than that, but she brushed it aside.

“I think your right.” Dhani replied as she sat herself back down, “How have you been?”

“Mostly work.", Ahdjiia said, "Things are never staid on this ship."

Dhani nodded in acknowledgment of Ahdjiia’s comment. She swirled her drink around in her glass. “I would love to be at work.” She mumbled absently to her self. “So what’s new with you?” she asked looking back up at her companion, “any gossip going around?”

Ahdjiia raised an eyebrow at Dhani's comment about work, but said nothing for now. "I have moved quarters.", she said, "I now share Maj. Bolivar's."

Dhani gave her a surprised look, “I have defiantly been out of the loop. Tell me more. Like when did you two hook up?”

"We first met when we were working on solving that situation with the Fembots." Ahdjiia said, "And things went from there...." She trailed off a bit as she tried to phrase the rest, "It was like there was old chemistry between us...though we'd barely worked together."

Dhani smiled at Ahdjiia. It was nice that she had found someone, Dhani herself couldn’t remember the last time she had had ‘chemistry’ with someone else. A vision of Chang flashed through her mind and she shivered slightly. She picked up her drink and downed it, trying to burry the memory deeper. Standing up she gestured at Ahdjiia’s glass, “Want another?” she asked.

"Thank you.", Ahdjiia said as she finished the last swallow out of her glass.

“Anything particular?” Dhani asked. It has been a long time since they had had a drink together and she couldn’t remember what Ahdjiia liked.

"Water is fine.", Ahdjiia said, "I might have to go in to cover another officer's shift later and I do need a clear head. Even with synthehol, I still like to tread carefully."

“Sure thing.” Dhani replied making her way to the bar.

Picking up her order she began to walk back to the table. She halted as everything around her began to shimmer with light, twinkling out of existence. The light became brighter piercing her vision. Raising her arm she shielded herself, closing her eyes. But the light was so bright that it seemed to pierce her eye lids too. And then in an instant it became dark. Before opening her eyes she could hear the repetitive voice of the computer,

[“Warning, warp core breach imminent.”]

Her eyes flashed open, looking down she saw her hands flying over the helm of what looked like a shuttle. Her stomach lurched as she felt the impending doom. The weight of her decision swept through her like the sweat that covered her body.

A hand reached out for hers and she grabbed it without hesitation, long spindly fingers interlocking with hers. She felt some security knowing that she wasn’t alone. Turning she looked into her own eyes, years older than hers. It was unsettling to look at herself; her skin was wrinkled, ragged like age-old leather. Her hair was matted and grey. Together they looked up at the view screen,

“The Rift..” Dhani murmured, “it’s so… beautiful.” “Are you ready?” her companion asked in a clear and determined voice.

Dhanishta hesitated but Naut did not. Releasing her grip she pulled her hand away from Dhanis and executed their destination.

“Dhani,” Naut said in an urgent voice as she turned to her younger self, “don’t make the same mistake twice.” She said thinking of Turan.

“W-w-What?” Dhani stammered, not comprehending the words of wisdom she told herself.

Before Naut could continue the ship lurched as the rift caught it sending both Dhani and Naut to the floor, hard.

“NOW” Naut shouted above the increasing noise and vibrations as the shuttle was tossed around like a maraca.

Scrambling across the floor, pulling herself up onto the chair she reached out across the console, her hand wavered. The sweat poured down her face, her heart pounded in her chest.

“Do it.” Naut shouted.

Her brow furrowed, as the ship shuddered again she almost lost her grip. She thought for a moment, ~ The needs of the many out weigh the needs of the few. ~ she snorted hysterically almost laughed ~ But it doesn’t end here, does it? ~

Dhanis fist met the consol pad as the ship shook and lurched again sending her back to the floor, or maybe it was the roof, she couldn’t tell.

Her vision blurred, almost blackened as her head impacted with something. It began to throb, but there was no time to feel the pain. She felt an arm around her as Naut pulled her into an embrace, “Shusssh, it’s all over now. It’s all over.” Naut whispered in her ear.

The light pierced her vision again and she felt like screaming out with the pain it caused but her voice was lost. Around her the light sparkled and everything reappeared just as it was; the tables and chairs the people, the sound of laughter and the clatter of glasses on trays.

For a few moments longer she lingered confused; wondering where she was and what she was doing. The glass of water began to slide out of her hand as the beads of condensation rolled down it. Gripping the glass tighter she shook her head and returned to her table. Her movements were jerky as she set the drinks down. Sitting down hard on the chair she frowned, while her fingers absently paddled in the spilt water.

Ahdjiia knew nothing of what Dhani just experienced save that she looked a bit shaken. A slight frown of concern crossed her features. "Are you okay?", she asked.

Dhani took in a deep breath, “I’m not sure.” She replied truthfully wiping her fingers on her trousers. “I’ve been having these weird,” she paused trying to think of the right word, “visions? All day. About an hour or so ago I took off Curran’s shoe! I have no idea why.” She shrugged her shoulders and looked up at Ahdjiia.

Mention of visions raised an eyebrow, especially after the odd memories most were having of death. "You're having the same ones we had?", she asked.

Dhani frowned, “Huh? What are you talking about? You had visions too?”

"All of us are having them in some degree.", Ahdjiia said, "Mine were of being on an away team where we found what was left of the saucer section of the ship with everyone long dead save us. Those of us not on the away team in the vision have been seeing their deaths as the ship went down."

Dhani sat back and regarded Ahdjiia. Sure that Ahdjiia wouldn’t lie she cocked her head nodding lightly as she continued to frown, “I guess that’s what Curran was talking about when he asked me if I had any memories of events that I was sure I hadn’t taken part in then!” she half asked.

"So far virtually everyone I've spoken to has recalled quite a bit of whatever these memories were.", Ahdjiia said, "I still shudder at seeing the remains of my Little Ones."

”I see.” Dhani replied sceptically. “I don’t really remember anything. Just little things, like Curran’s shoe!” she laughed nervously. Picking up her drink.

"Lt. Kreigoff barely remembered anything either.", Ahdjiia said, glossing over the truth that he didn't recall a thing. She sipped her water and pushed back the still uneasy memories of her discussion with him as she was still trying to get those dealt with on her own.

Dhanishta still frowned as she looked into her pint. A rosy reflection of herself glimmered across the wines surface she shuddered sending ripples across its surface. ~I’m sure there’s something I should be doing! ~ she thought to herself wanting to get her mind stuck into something other than the thoughts that were flying round it. She sat forward about to stand up and then realised there was nothing she should be doing. Sighing she leaned back into the chair quaffing her pint.

For a moment they remained in silence, each consumed by there own thoughts.

“Ahdjiia,” Dhani asked, “is there anything you can give me to do?” It was an unusual request and would probably need some explaining and the answer was most likely no, but there was no ham in asking.

"Like what?", she asked, not sure if it was meant as work related or something else.

“Anything.” She stated, “Anything to get my mind off…” she trailed off a little, still not able to put it into words. “I was singed off work about a month ago, before we left Risa. I erm, I’m bored out of my mind, going over everything that happened…. I just need something to do.” She replied.

If Ahdjiia noticed anything odd in Dhani's reply, it didn't show. "Well, I could use some nesting creches for my Little Ones. With moving to Maj. Bolivar's quarters there has been some hurt feelings as they're now trying to find new private places."

While it didn't seem like much, it did mean something to Ahdjiia as she was afraid that the squabbling might get more intense as time passed.

“Sounds good.” Dhani replied not completely sure what Ahdjiia meant by ‘nesting creches’, “You wanna go now?” she asked, enthused with the thought of something to do. It didn’t really matter what it was as long as it was something.

"Sure.", Ahdjiia said with a soft smile, feeling pleased to have been able to perk up Dhani from the mood she'd been in, "I do have some schematics, but they are for smaller spiders. There's no way the Sand spider or Hook spider will be able to use them as they are."

“No matter, I’m an engineer after all.” She said, smiling for the first time in ages.

"From the Shadows, Part I"

By 1st LT T'Shani A'Akledorian
(Vanguard Three)

----------

***Six years ago...***

=^= 2374: Battle of Hel'mis' Retreat, Ak'raar IV =^=

"Verk'irei'eel !"

Warrior First-Class T'Shani A'Akledorian spun on her heel and charged the big lump of crystal, her chaka held high above her head, her disruptor fully discharged and thrown aside, on the floor of the cave.

The EVA-suited crystal...*moved*....fast!

Suddenly, a cacophony of sound eminated from the Tholian; high-pitch squeals, whistles and clicks overlayed on top of a multitude of other, more resonant sounds. It dropped to four of its 'legs' and charged her, as well; a hair-thin--barely visible--monoblade clutched in its grip.

~Fucking Tholians~ T'Shani thought as she gained speed towards the lumbering--yet surprisingly fast--crystalline entity. She calculated the risk of going head-to-head with a 900-kilogram adult Tholian, *especially* with it holding a monoblade.

~No fucking way...unless...~ She ran even faster, closing the gap between them: thirty meters...twenty...ten...five...

At the last moment, within millimeters of being impaled on the alien's blade, T'Shani dipped low, sprung, and vaulted over its head, landing behind it.

Startled and confused, the crystalline soldier skidded to a halt, and attempted to turn...

Just as T'Shani grabbed it by its thick, long tail. Raising her chaka high, she brought it down...

***

"AAAAAAYYYYEEEEEAAAAAAAA!!!"

Tish bolted upright in her bed, sweat soaking her naked body, the bed, and the sheets that entagled her.

**HUUUHHHH-UUUUHHH....HUUUHHHH-UUUUHHH...HUUUHHHH-UUUUHHH**

She breathed deeply and quickly, her chest heaving with her rapid breath, her hearts beating in overdrive. Quickly, she threw aside the tangling covers, and stood up, crouching low, and surveying her surroundings.....

~Tish, you idiot!~ she scolded herself. ~You're in your own fucking quarters!~

Slowly, she stood up...relaxing her posture, but keeping her antennae raised and alert.

~A...A...what did the Pinkskins call them?~ she wondered. ~A night-mirror?~ No, no, that wasn't right.... ~A night-mare! That's it: a nightmare!~

"Fuck," was all she said, wondering what had finally woken her. She looked over to the flashing, beeping commpanel on the desk in the corner of her quarters...that was what had waked her. Quickly, she grabbed a black zippered vest, and threw it on over her top, but electing to not put anything else on.

Sitting down in front of the screen, and making sure that the optical sensor was focused *only* on her from the chest-up...she pressed the 'Accept' button....

[Ah, 'Lieutenant A'Akledorian...it is good to see you again.]

Seeing who it was, T'Shani *almost* got to her feet, to stand at attention and salute. But quickly, she remembered that her 'bottom-half' was still naked, and that the person was not *technically* in the room, anyway. Instead, she saluted crisply to the figure on-screen, waiting for his return-salute before she continued.

"General Houghton, what may I do for you, Sir!?" she said crisply, still somewhat surprised at his calling her, and still in shock from her nightmare. ~Why would the General be calling me, now? It isn't about...~ she let the thought trail.

"This isn't about..." she paused as she checked some indicators on her commpanel ~Wow, secure channel ALPHA-SIX...priority encoded, self-erasing, too...what the hell?~ the ALPHA-SIX channel was one of the few fleet-wide 'All Emergency' channels reserved for only the top-brass. It was the ALPHA-ONE channel that Captain Kirk had recieved the infamous CODE-ONE message that had announced the beginning of the short-lived Romulan war, back in 2263...

But with it self-erasing...no one would even know that the General was contacting her right now.... ~What the hell?!~ she wondered, again.

[At ease, First Lieutenant. This is a secure-channel--hell, even the tech-weenies on the Galaxy won't be able to track this signal--so I *can* tell you that this does, indeed, have to do with your involvment in the Deep Shadow project.]

~Oh...no....~ was all she could think...

"Late nights"

Maj Saladin Bolivar
Lt(jg) Ahdjiia D-tinya Bolivar

=Intelligence offices=

Saladin was deep in to one of the reports he had to finish to get his daily duties done so he could go home to his wife. 

This report was dull as hell and he rested his head in his hand and before he knew it he had fallen asleep.   Ahdjiia had gotten off shift and prepared a meal by the time she figured that Saladin had gotten so caught up in his work that he'd forgotten to let her know he wasn't going to be home until late.   It mattered little and she adjusted her mantilla and headed for the Intelligence Office.  She nodded politely to the few who nodded at her as she walked in and she headed straight for Saladin's office, chiming the door.

He felt her presence enter his office and woke with a start, "Oh...Ahdjiia...love..." "I expected you working late, not dozing.", she said with a soft smile as she walked over to him and in the privacy of the closed office, kissed his cheek.   "These reports are duller then I thought." He looked at her with a smile then touched her cheek.  "How was your day?" "The usual.", she said, "I did stop by sickbay for a checkup and so far our son is growing fine.

"Good." He reached over and touched her cheek, "I am sorry I wasn't there love..." "You were busy.", she said, "And your work comes first."

"I'm still sorry." "You are in an important job, and one that is not easy.", she said, "What would you do if something came up and you were not around because of me?"   He paused and gently pulled her on his lap, "Why don't we go home and have dinner." "It is ready, keeping warm.", she said as she sat on his lap, "And if you had been working late, I still would've made sure you had a warm meal when you arrived."   He kissed her lips, "Very well then why don't we go home, I have done all I can today." "Then let's go.", she said with a soft smile.   He took her hand and they began to walk out of the office.  He looked at her, "I should have contacted you."

"You were busy with work.", she said as they headed into the corridor, "It is something that happens."

He didn't drop her hand, a rare thing for him.  They walked to the turbolift and he brushed her dark hair back from her face to kiss her lips. She was surprised at his public display of affection.  "Take care or others will know you aren't the stern one you show to them.", she said with a hint of a smile.

"What they will think I have grown some."  He winked as they walked off the turbolift and down the hallway, "What is for dinner?" "I tried some of those hearty dishes from your world.  A meat stew with a flavourful broth along with that thick crusted bread you seemed to enjoy."   "You are trying to stuff me."  He grinned as they walked to their quarters and he slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her again. "I am trying to ensure you eat appropriately for the amount of work you do.", she said with a smile as they reached their quarters.   "And the amount of calories we burn off."  They walked inside and he looked around as the spiders began to come foreward.

The Little Ones came out as always for the greetings from the two, furry backs arching at the touch of the pets, wanting more.   Saladin smiled as he pet the spiders, they were like children, then he shrugged off his uniform jacket and began to unfasten his boots. One small spider, one of the Hook spider's recent litter, fell from the ceiling and landed on Saladin's head.  It righted itself, then froze as it realized where it was, how high it was, and then realizing the incredible view it had.   Ahdjiia chuckled at the site of the spider clinging to Saladin's close cropped hair for dear life.   Normally it would have freaked the Nietzchean officer out, but now he gently lifted the spider from his head and helped it to a perch, "this might be better for you, much more comfortable then my hair..." The spider seemed relieved to be on something more steady and crawled off.   "I remember at one time you were worried about stepping on one.", Ahdjiia said with a soft smile.   "I still am." He said honestly as he walked over to her and embraced her, "they are your children, I would not wish to harm one even by accident." "You have yet to do so, even when you almost sat on the sand spider."   "And the sand spider bit me." "He didn't use his venom.", she said apologetically.   "And we didn't have to go to sickbay, I would not explain to that doctor why I have a spider bite there."

He took her hand in his as they walked in to eat, "Join me Ahdjiia, let's eat." She bit back laughing aloud as the mental image of Saladin at his usual stoicness having to drop his uniform pants for the doctor on call to attend to a spider bite and then the explaining about said bite filled her mind.  "Yes, let us eat.", she smiled.   He caught the glimmer in her eye, Then he smiled, then he poured them both some drinks.

OOC: BACKPOST. Christmas 2003 is long past, but I didn't want to throw this story in the recycle bin. Btw, this took place at Wolf 359 Advanced Tactical School where the ship is still (or was) docked at the time.

"This Is A Repeat..."

Lieutenant (jg) Michael McDowell
Engineer

Ensign Sota [NPC]
Tactical Systems Engineer

Lieutenant (jg) Sammy Sousa [NPC]
Warp Systems Engineer

With a short appearance of:
Lt. Commander Ethan Suder
Chief Engineer

***

USS Galaxy,
Main Engineering,
December 24 2380
21:50

***

Celebrating Christmas light-years from home on a starship. It was not really what Michael had wished for this year. Maybe he was old-fashioned, but he'd trade in two weeks of shore-leave - or even more - if that would allow him to celebrate Christmas at home. Now he was at the Wolf 359 Advanced Tactical School, where the USS Galaxy was docked. Now that Michael thought of it, at this time of year it was kind of strange to be at a school where they teach the art of war.

"Sir, the latest technical update on PPC."

Michael looked up and found Ensign Sota standing beside him. Just like all Vulcans he look back stoically. "Thanks Sota. And, is the whole project on schedule?"

Sota arched his left brow. "I do not have that information, sir. Lieutenant Danna told me to distribute the update among the duty shift officers. I am just the messenger, as you human tends to call it." Raising both his brows, he continued. "Though, judging from Lieutenant Danna's smile, I would say that repairs are progressing as expected."

"I'm glad to hear that. I hope it will stay that way." Michael said and brought the PADD back into view. "Now, I think I better start reading this."

Sota nodded once and walked out of Engineering again, on his way back to Lieutenant Danna. Michael watched him until he was out of sight. Then he leaned back against the railing that surrounded the Warp Core and started reading the report.

The report was pretty straightforward. It simply explained what had been done on the Pulse Phaser Cannon and what still had to be done. Last paragraph detailed the planning for the rest of the work. As said before, pretty straightforward, and it didn't take Michael long to finish reading the report.

Michael spend the next few hours on all the work that he'd kept postponing over the last few months. There was always other work that was more important, so the other, minor, things were put on the backburner. Now was the time to get them out of the way.

It went rather well. He'd finished doing about halve of the work in less then two hours. Michael thought that wasn't bad, especially since he'd also done some delicate calibration work. For a moment he sat in the chair and looked from the Duty Engineer's console into the rest of Main Engineering. It was kind of a peaceful sight. Gamma Shift was always quiet, but this time it was different. You could just feel it in the air. ~Christmas time. What else could it be?~ Michael smiled and turned around again, ready to take on the next job. Taking up the PADD before him Michael scanned through the To-Do-list. ~Okay, what's next on the agenda?~

Suddenly, totally out of the blue, Michael thought he heard a choir singing. At first he could hardly hear it, but it was definitely there, and it got louder by the second. In the end it was so loud that everyone in Engineering looked around in surprise.

[OOC: The song in question -> http://www.avroklassiek.nl/kov/selectie.asp?Category=Kerst Check song "Ding Dong Merrily on high." in the first list and push button "Voeg Toe". Then push button "Speel Af" (I know, it's all Dutch, so don't bother trying to read it) at bottom of page to play song...and let imagination do the rest.]

Michael stood up and grinned. "It appears someone has noticed that it's almost Christmas. Well, let me be the first to wish you all a merry Christmas,...and may Santa Claus be kind to you."

Several Engineers joined in wishing their fellow crewmembers a happy Christmas. Meanwhile the song had ended, but contrary to what Michael expected it wasn't really over. The song went on playing all over again. Michael looked up in surprise and then looked at each of the faces in Engineering to see who was responsible for this joke.

"Alright, it was fun the first time, but lets not keep repeating it. At least, not the same song over and over again."

No one reacted until Sammy Sousa spoke up. She was the one that had walked over to one of the consoles with the intention to stop the song from playing. "Sir, this may sound strange, but I think no one is behind this one."

"So, you're saying that it started all on itself." Michael laughed. "That's a good one Sam. Hey, it's okay, it was fun and even appropriate at this time. But one time..." Michael stopped as he heard the song continue to play for the third time. "...two times is enough."

Sammy continued feeding the console requests. "Whatever I try, I can't find any traces that would tell me where it comes from and who has started the cyclic call to the song. What's even more strange, I can't stop the song from playing. The program blocks all attempts."

The last remark of Sammy put Michael more on his guard. He walked over to Sammy and looked at what the console displayed. After a few tries Michael too had to conclude that the program didn't allow anyone to shut it off.

At that moment a call came in from the Bridge. Michael noticed it was Ethan at the other side of the line. He sounded kind of agitated. "Bridge To Engineering!"

Michael responded quickly. "McDowell here, sir."

"Lieutenant, I'm getting reports from all over the ship about a Christmas song playing over and over again. Do you have an explanation for this!?"

First there was utter surprise on Michael's face. ~The whole ship?~ Then a frown appeared. "I...don't have an explanation right now sir. But I'm working on it."

"Take your time, Lieutenant." Ethan said with a smile. Of course, Michael would know that Ethan was just being friendly and wanted this checked out right away. "I'd appreciate it if you could fix this... problem. The reputation of our department hangs in the balance."

"Yes, of course, sir. I'll get the whole team down here working on it." Michael sighed and considered himself lucky that Ethan had responded instead of the Captain. He probably wouldn't have been so lenient.

Ethan nodded in appreciation as he heard Michael over the comm. "Keep me posted, Lieutenant." he said closing the channel.

Michael turned around to the team of Engineers that had gathered around him. "I guess you all heard the Chief. So lets get to it people. First one who solves the puzzle gets four hours of my Holodeck time."

Grins appeared on almost every face and the Engineers began spreading out. Some of them started discussing the problem and ideas on how to approach it.

"What do you think? Quick virus again?" Sammy Sousa asked curiously.

Michael looked at her for a moment. "I hate to say it, but it sure looks that way."

Meanwhile the song played on, and on, and on, and on...

"Cultural Exchanges"

Ensign T'Pol Hunter,
Science Officer

Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer

8-ball looked at her opponent and sighed.

This wasn't what she had wanted. A nice, easy go at life. Work a little, eat a little, sleep a little. How the hell had she gotten herself signed up for this stupid fight in the first place? And right when things were starting to look up, too. She was slowly. . .ever so slowly. . .starting to get used to Galaxy and she'd even finally made a friend. . .a certain, funny, silent engineer who blessedly had real alcohol. . .and now this.

8-ball looked at the man before her. He wasn't that huge but then again neither was she. She smiled at him and gave him an impulsive wink. Time to get it on. Too bad 'getting it on' had to include brawling and not bedding.

The guy wasn't that bad looking. Sort of evil and commando-grrrr type but hey, who didn't have their faults.

Curran, still bruised and in pain from his bout with Ella Grey the day before, whom he'd found out later was a mute, now stood in the ring once again with yet another woman. How did he get stuck in these situations?

'Commander Suder had his fair share of misfits, obviously. A mute Assistant Chief. That really set his faith in emergency situations if ever an answer was needed in the stability of the engines. Damn ship could explode before she typed out an answer.

Now here he was facing this curious one. Vulcan and Terran hybrid. What was wrong with the Vulcans? Weak people getting involved with these Terran infestations. Emotional liabilities, that's what they are.

"So, what allegiance do you stand for, woman? Do you call yourself Vulcan Or Terran?" They circled each other.

"I am not a Vulcan," 8-ball said flatly, still circling Curran. "I'm human. 8-ball's the name."

"Noting your profession on this ship, it would only be logical you embrace your Vulcan half, woman." His ribs still pained. The broken one hadn't healed completely.

Any thoughts 8-ball might have had about this guy being cute immediately disappeared. She smiled at him almost sweetly. "I don't believe in logic," she said lightly. "It's highly overrated."

And with that, 8-ball did what she did best: abandoned any sense of logic completely and lunged at Curran, knocking them both down to the ground.

What the hell was it with women rushing like some rampaging bull at him?

Curran went down like a ton of bricks. His battle with Grey the day before still echoed in his aching bones. Plus, he was in combat with a Vulcan, no matter what she called herself. Logic had to come into play.

"So what do you believe in, Vulcan?" Shake the logic, break her spirit and raise the emotions suppressed further beneath. Then he would finish this and retire for several hours in pure bliss and solitude.

Unfortunately for Curran and his pure bliss, 8-ball didn't believe in supressing her emotions. This guy was such a serious creep. 8-ball was almost glad that she had signed up for the fight. This guy needed to get his ass kicked.

"I believe that if you don't stop calling me Vulcan, you're going to have to spend a few months in Sickbay," 8-ball replied, smiling tightly at him.

"Such promises, Vulcan. You can't even promise yourself to be the best you can be. You'd rather fall to the emotional state of a common street urchin. A Terran to wit! If you weren't going to be Vulcan, you could've picked a better race. Shows how weak you are, though. Yet another waste of space." Curran gripped his ribs, now surging with pain. He couldn't win this fight physically, but he would win the mental game.

Noting his pain (and how his face somehow grew more and more irritating as she stared at it), 8-ball charged him again and they both fell to the ground. "Did you spring from the womb an asshole?" she demanded as she hit him in the face. "Or did you just work really, really hard at it?" She stood up over Curran. "Just for your information, I am not weak nor have I ever been weak. My emotions give me strength. I don't need to repress them to see the way and the light and that other Vulcan bullshit. I hold disgust for the whole race and I would not waste one minute of my life trying to be anything like them." 8-ball had only known this man about five minutes and already she hated him. She kicked him in the stomach as he lay on the ground. "Who's the weak one now, bitch?"

Curran, in his haze of pain, could do nothing but laugh. He spit out a glob of blood on the mat, impervious to the catcalls of the crowd as he lay on his back.

"Such is the world to bred emotional women. Do the insults make you feel better?"

"Yeah, I'm immature in that way," 8-ball said and kicked him the stomach again. "This makes me feel even better though."

"Do you look in the mirror each morning and wish it all to end? Do you disgust yourself? You are so weak." He had to live with the disgust of a human face staring back at him each morning himself, but he never complained openly of it.

"The only thing about my face that disgusts me is these damn pointed ears," 8-ball said. "Certainly not my face. I'm pretty, after all." She looked down at the guy writhing in pain at her feet. "What is this beef you have with humanity all about, anyway? You sure don't look much different." She smiled at him, enjoying his pain. Maybe if he wasn't such an asshole. . . "I somehow doubt I'm the one who looks in the mirror and hates what she sees. I guess that must be sad for you. I pity you, sorta."

He darted out with one hand to grasp her ankle. With one last sap of strength, he yanked, causing her to lose her balance. In the kickout, her boot clipped his chin, sending a new dance of light across his vision. But he'd accomplished what he wanted. She was on the mat.

Through a tussle of arms and legs, he found himself atop her, with his forearm pressing on her throat to cut off her airway.

"Emotions make you weak, woman. Being female makes you more susceptible to them. Take heed in your Vulcan heritage, for it will save your life one day." She struggled underneath him viciously.

"I've saved my own life time and time again," 8-ball gasped between breaths, trying to wriggle her way out under him. "I don't need anybody to look after and I certainly don't need anything from my Vulcan heritage. I'd spit on my Vulcan heritage if that was actually possible."

"The match is yours. I tire of this." Curran lifted his arm in a rare show of mercy. Or he didn't desire to kill this woman. Who knows why? Maybe if he was going to end his career over killing someone, he'd rather it be for Dallas. He rolled off her. "Never turn your back on who you are. You are the only one looking out for you in the end."

Curran stood up and turned his back. 8-ball jumped to her feet and shook her head. If she was going to get beat, she was going to get beat, not have some jerk get bored and walk away. He tires of this. . .to HELL with that!

8-ball quickly bounded to the side, stole a chair from under some startled guy not paying attention, and ran back into the ring. She brought it up and smashed it down on Curran's head. "You can't give me something I already had," 8-ball said, raising the chair again. "Take your mercy and shove it up your ass."

Curran crashed to the mat, totally oblivious to everything around him. Even as his world grew dark once again, he at least ended with pride. He knew he was the victor. He had kept his emotions in check where she did not. Her vaunted Vulcan heritage only proved to him that the Rihannsu cousins were stronger. All those repressed emotions come bursting to the surface eventually.

"There is no honor in vengeful pride, Vulcan. Even less so in striking down your foes in honorable combat when their back is turned. You... are.. pitiful." The billowing shrouds of even' curtains drew to a close, and the final act was over. He fell into restful sleep, the first he's had in months.

8-ball looked at him in disgust, ignoring the ref who was throwing his arms around, screaming. Apparantly, you weren't supposed to use chairs. Like she gave a fuck.

"Don't waste your pity," 8-ball said to the unconscious Legate. "I don't give a shit about honorable combat; I'm not the one lying on the mat. In the end, that's all that matters." And 8-ball strode off, ignoring the screaming ref, and headed straight for the showers.

~Drunken Encounter~

Lt. Cutter Kara'nin
Arkedi Nitel'rajek
Lt. Daniel Scarborough

"Daniel!"

The young lieutennant was startled at his name, and jumped slightly when he noticed two large figures moving toward him, then became embarrassed at his fright. He had been looking forward, the two approaching men should have been immediately obvious to him as the rounded the bend of the corridor, especially because of their large wings, but the thoughtful daze he often found himself in blinded him of their presence. "Good evening, Lieutennant," he replied, nodding slightly. He had not met his superior's friends, the two civilian Fruna'lin that had joined the crew so recently. It was good for Lieutennant Kara'nin, Daniel thought, to have two other members of his own species aboard, two of his friends; it would help tremendously with his homesickness. But right now, they were clearly preoccupied, Daniel tried to walk past them and let them be.

"Daniel! How're yooo?" Cutter asked, stopping the scientist. His speech was slurred slightly, an accent had mysteriously developed where none existed before, and he was leaning on his smaller violet-feathered friend. Rather, they were leaning against each other, maintaining a feeble balance against the imaginary forces that seemed to be tugging at them.

"Uh, I, I, uh...." Daniel stumbled, staring at the two men as if he was trying to figure out what was the matter with them, despite the glaring obviousness of the answer, "I'm, uh, fine, sir. How are you?"

"What is Lieutennant?" the darked haired alien asked.

"Me," Cutter said quickly.

"Not you are Lieutennant! You Cutter is," the smaller Fruna'lin exclaimed, then he turned to Daniel. "He Cutter is. Ist! Apologies. He IS Cutter."

"What have I told yooo, Danu? Call me Cutter," he commanded with a face that almost looked serious, but he couldn't hold it. Any act of annoyance was thrown away by the jovial smile that followed.

Daniel stumbled a bit before responding, now incredibly uncomfortable. "Uh, ih, uh, y-yes, s.., er, Cutter."

"Arku, this is Daniel. Danu, he Arkedi is," Cutter said, mocking his friend through his introduction, but it seemed to fly past him.

"Dan-eee-el, tola! Ento dwomdzi^el?" Arkedi greeted, extending his wing. His volume startled Daniel. "You work with Cutu?"

"Yes. I, uh, I'm his assistant chief," Daniel explained as he glanced back at his boss. Cutter had lost interest, apparently, and was now staring intently at the black reflective computer access console on the wall of the corridor. Curious, Daniel leaned forward slightly in an attempt to determine what was so interesting.

"Not attend to him," Arkedi said, noticing Daniel's curiousity, "Cutter landolzervol is."

"A, a, lan..., a what?" Daniel asked.

"I cannot help it," Cutter said without breaking his stare, "I am such an uncommon sight."

"Landolzervol was artist ancient," Arkedi began, ignoring his friend, "Great servant of Kenara. In order to reward him, Kenara adorned him with beauty great. Landolzervol was beautifulest of Fruna'lin. But, then, he ka liked only himself, his beauty," Arkedi said, passing his hand over his face, to illustrate he was talking about Lansolzervol's appearance. "So, in order to punish, Kenara took away his beauty, but not in his reflection. He was banished from city, and found pond so he sees his reflection, and he stayed there forever. His legs became roots and his feathers became leaves and Lansolzervol became tree, stuck to ground looking at reflection."

"Oh! Oh, oh! Narcissus? You mean Cutter is a narcissist?" Daniel asked.

"Ih... sema," the Fruna'lin agreed, though he was not certain if it was true.

"Are you done, yet?" Cutter asked, finally turning away from his reflection.

"How can you is aboard for two years and he not know you is landolzervol?" Arkedi asked. He was smiling, but there was still considerable surprise displayed on his face.

"They haven't seen me intoxicated."

"Intoxicated?" Arkedi asked.

"Uh, drunk." Daniel piped in, drawing a wierd look from Cutter.

Arkedi looked back and forth between the two for a moment before he figured out what they were talking about, what intoxicated meant. He laughed and jabbed Daniel in the chest with his finger, "You must see him when he eats ngimkaR." Cutter's eyes rolled back slightly at the mention of ngimkaR, whatever that was, and let a quiet moan of pleasure escape from his lips and Arkedi laughed. Then, his eyebrows jumped as an idea hit him. "Dan-eee-el, you must come with us to Kenara this year, for Ra'kamil'kenara!"

"Uh, uh, well, I, uh, um... all, all right, I, uh, I guess." Daniel agreed. He lifted his hand up, and pointed behind the two Fruna'lin, a very unsure, shaky point. "I, uh, maybe I should let you, I mean, I, uh, I should be---"

Cutter smiled at his colleague, recognizing his feeble attempts at escape. "Come on, Arku. I should be taking you home, now."

"Dwa?! Me? Cutu, hah! You is intoxicateder than me!"

"Sem. Intoxicateder. That's not a word, you know. Good evening to you, Daniel," Cutter said, throwing his arm around as he attempted a fancy bow. If it were not for Arkedi, he would have surely fallen on his face.

"Uh, yes, sir -- er, Cutter. Good night," Daniel mumbled as the two winged aliens continued forward in the hall past him. He watched them for several moments, unsure of his position or if the recent encounter was even real. Finally, he shrugged the confusion off and continued on his way.

"Coffee Talk, with Linda Richman. You know, Daughters, Dogs, No big whoop."

Lt. Cmdr. Dr. Valdimir Malgin,
Chief Surgeon

Lt. JG Dr. Klaus Fienberg,
Medical Officer

Location: Sickbay
Time: End of Alpha Shift, Entry of Beta Shift

Another humdrum day at work, mending wounds and small injuries, while those of higher ranks.....well....you know.

Klaus wandered in and went straight to work, thankfully the combination of Ren and the Alarm clock got the late sleeping German running, if not still drowsy. More so than normal after the coffee troubles and insomnia. No more caffeine...

Coffee... The best friend of the professional of any kind. Beginning with a security guard or a student, preparing to exams, to the doctor, who has got to sit a whole few hours on the work after not sleeping for almost whole day.

"Oh, how much I hate you..." muttered Vladimir to his cup of hot cappuchino, "! I hate you. Coffee is much more a narcotic than nicotine, weed, heroine or whatever. If you drink coffee, you will never lose habit to drink it..." Vladimir made a sip.

Klaus walked in, past his boss. "Good Morning Sir." He was visibly burned out as he carefully went by.

"Hello, hello, mister Fienberg, I see you are a little bit tired, aren't you?" said Vladimir with more-than gloomy smile, "Let me guess... Coffee? No need to answer, I know it is a coffee. Don't you know, that it is bad to go to work in bad mood?"

Klaus continued, nodding. If he could get past dealing with Malgin until he was awake, he was homefree to perform his duties for the rest of the shift. He Immediately picked up a pad, and started looking through it. His Visits for the day. Even though the CMO was in charge of the main cases, and Malgin of Surgery, he still had those that were assigned to him.

Unluckily for Fienberg, Malg! in was already wide-awake. He didn't like, when somebody doesn't reply to his words. Strange that Klaus forgot it, being the persona, who suffered the most from Malgin's 'rules'.

Vladimir stood up and walked to Klaus. He patted him on the shoulder and said "Mister Fienberg, I hope that I just didn't hear your reply. 'Cause if it is not, I am gonna as why you don't reply."

"I appologize sir. And I further Apologize if that doesn't seem sincere. But I've been under alot of stress. More so than normal." He continued his work, almost invisibly cowering.

"If you are under stress, mister Fienberg," said Vladimir in almost mentor-like voice, "You'd better go to the counselors Bla-Bla Department,so they can shake your brains and turn it to normal mode. Don't work under stress. This is a friendly advice to you, if you don't understand"

Klaus nodded again. "I was thinking the same thing. I am scheduling an appointment after my shift is over. But I have a question." Klaus turned to his boss, "Would you like to assist in the planning of a Wedding?"

"Wed-, what?!" Malgin's jaw almost literally fallen to the floor. "You say that there is a dummie, who decided that she can stand you in marriage? I bow to the bravery of that female."

Klaus smirked slightly, trying not to let the comment be an insult agains't his fiance. "Do you know Kay MacFarland? One of the Archaeologists. I've been seeing her for quite awhile now."

Klaus found the next sentence rather hard to say. "I would be......er...Honored.... if you attended. I just don't know when it is, there is no set date yet."

"Scientist and you? Odd couple. But it would be effective. Her intelligence would be a catalyst to your Zero IQ..." Vladimir paused. "I will attend your wedding. Well, I would, even if you didn't want it or didn't invited me, because ! I just can't skip such an event at Medical. But your invitation makes it much more simple. Okay, mister Fienberg, tell me date when YOU know it and I will be there. "

"Aye sir. I will see you tommorrow. Unless you want overtime, but of course that isn't my department." Klaus chuckled, knowing that this kind of insolence would not go unpunished. But it was too much to resist.

"Eternal Promise"

By: Ensign Ayara Sami,
Operations Officer,
USS Galaxy

==--==

The graduation party was as thrilling, enjoyable, and fun as Nathan had promised, with the entire graduating class of '79 present. The food and champaign was terrific, and the entertainment was well worth the wait. Jasmine strolled through the dense crowds until she found the Carter family, who had been engaging in friendly conversation with one of Sami's instructors. While Jasmine didn't want to be rude, she had to ask them where their daughter - her best friend was. "Excuse me, have you seen Sami anywhere? I've been looking for her, but nobody has seen her since her speech." Jasmine asked. Jonathan and Samantha glanced past Jasmine, eyeing the crowd carefully to see if they could see Sami around. Their seach was short, because they already had a good guess where she was. Samantha turned back to face Jasmine, and smiled faintly. "She's gone to see her parents Jasmine."

***Eternal Promise Cemetery, Earth***

The young bajoran dressed in the dress white uniform of a starfleet officer, carefully stepped through the cemetery fields until she came upon two marble graves. In her arms she carried a bouquet of fresh red roses, and in her heart, she carried a pool of joy and sorrow. Stopping across from Tevan and Kia Ayara, she smiled faintly and laid the roses on their graves. "Hi mom, dad... how are you?"

Sami paused for a moment, as a soft breeze sailed across her face. "I got these roses for you two, I hope that you like them. They smell great." She stopped, spreading the roses out a little more. "I graduated today, everything went wonderfully... I don't think it could have gone any better. Mom and dad were so proud to see me on that podium, I even saw mom cry when I gave my speech. I know that you two were there, I hope that I've made you proud." Sami had come to such a positive moment in her life, but part of her felt as though she was losing a part of it. "I've been assigned to the USS Galaxy, I'm supposed to leave tommorrow. I wish I didn't have to go so far away for so long, and I'm already a little homesick, but this is what I signed on for. This is how I can keep my promise to you."

"I will not allow another soul to suffer the loss that I still endure today, so long as the Profits guide me, and so long as I live." It was her eternal promise, that had guided her into the life she lived today. ***Wolf 359 Advanced Tactical School, The next day***

Shimmering into existance was one of the most unique things that Sami has ever experienced in her life, and it was something that she always looked forward to. As the transporter hum disappated, she quickly found herself on board the USS Galaxy. Her first posting. "Ensign Ayara Sami, requesting permission to come aboard." She spoke softly, with that same touch of youth and innocence that she always carried with her. "Permission granted ma'm, welcome aboard."

"I'm Busy, I Really Am"

By Lt. Curtis Geluf,
Chief OPS

"No, I'm afraid I won't be making it this year again." Curtis sighed to his comm screen.

"You're always saying how BUSY your are. Never have time for the family anymore. You don't even write." the voice answered back.

"I told you, I'm really busy and I'm just getting a handle on things. It's hectic up here right now. Transfers all over the place. I'll write when I get the chance, I promise." The tired Kerelian answered back.

"Oh fine, I'll just tell grandma you're stiffing us again." the voice snapped back.

"Do whatever you want Ian, I've got work to do." he answered his cousin, "I'll talk to you later. Geluf out."

It was true, of course, he really WAS busy. But he couldn't blame Ian, he had missed so many family reunions and he didn't have a lot of family left, thanks to the civil war.

Given the choice, of course, he would have much rather gone to Kera. As it was, he was stuck with a list of hundreds of transfers, in and out. It would take days to sort through them.

"Well, maybe I'll get some hole-fillers for OPS out of the deal at least." he sulked, and begrudgingly began his work.

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