"Slightly Untitled"

By: Lt (jg) Kay MacFarland,
Science Officer

And:
Lt. (jg) Dr. Klaus Fienberg,
Medical officer.

**Kay's Apartment**

Kay was sitting on an couch reading some wedding magzines picking out what kind of wedding dresses will be nice for her to wear.

Without warning, Klaus had already approached the door and rang it. "I would assume someone is in there."

The young woman was looking at some sex books when the door bell rung, she quickly hide it away and unlocked the door.

Klaus glided it. "Hello my dear." He approached and further greeted with a tender kiss.

The kiss tasted good to the young firey, redhead as Kay smiles back at him, "Hello to you too Imzadi, what are you doing here I though you be at the matches in the holodecks."

"Don't worry my love, I have a second referee. Unfortunatly he is the most annoying man to ever grace the land of the living." ! He stood and thought for a moment, like so many times before.

"We need a date." He looked at her with a searching look.

"You mean an wedding date?"

He looked her in the eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

Kay sat on Klaus' lap and replied, "How about before we leave here, I mean if you want to Rose have been helping me with my wedding dress and flowers....maybe she can help you out as well if you like."

Klaus lit up a little. "Yes, I should have thought of that."

"But we'd better not let Erik in on the planning. He might get us on the Empire State Building surrounded by flaming Tiki Torchs, drunk Klingons and naked Orion dancers."

The young woman giggles while sitting on her future husband lap, "I'll keep that in mind."

He shuffled a little, a small bit of horseplay. "If you're wondering, I'm going to wear my dress uniform."

"And I going to wear the most beautiful wedding gown in the galaxy." Kay replied while kissing his neck gently.

The Gentleman German could do nothing more than smile and remark. "How would one word this....erm.....Works for me."

[backpost - occurs one day before 'Uneasy Into The Night']

"Wish You Were Here?"

Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian

An audible sigh hissed through the small cabin of the Rihannsu shuttlecraft as its pilot waited for the transmission to be patched through. The delay was irritating, his excitement mounting. After another ten days of boredom and frustration, the Galaxy still moored at Wolf 359, Sub-Commander tr'Khellian's urgent request for news of the Hydrans had at last been answered. As he had expected, the reply had not come from Galae Head Quarters or the Tal Shiar or even the Diplomatic Service, but from his contact in the Senate, Sulor ir-Maishae Vellen.

The highly-secure connection was suddenly established, and the dark-green, hawkish symbol of the Stellar Empire blinked onto the previously blank screen. It was replaced by the young but anxious face of the junior senator from Maishae Province. So heavy were the demands made by the advanced encryption programme on the shuttle's computer that there was a just-perceptible lag in the conversation which followed.

"Jolan'tru, Senator," tr'Khellian said, with a smile and a seated half-bow.

"Jolan'tru, Sub-Commander," Sulor responded, ducking his head nervously. His eyes darted off to one side for the first of many times, as though perpetually suspicious of being watched and overheard. "I trust you are well."

"I am in good health, Vellen. I hope your house continues to prosper," he remarked, giving a ritualistic but genuinely-felt response, for the two men had been schooled together, and Savar recognised keenly the risk Sulor was taking by speaking with him now. Despite being Savar's third cousin, he was under no obligation, even familial, to share classified data with a disgraced exile.

"Fate continues to be kind," Vellen replied hurriedly. With a glance around, he leaned his head forwards and down, and his hands worked at a control panel off-screen. "I'm transmitting the files you need now," the Senator said in hushed tones, and a moment later a blinking light on tr'Khellian's controls indicated the files were being received. Vellen was wasting no time.

"What news from the Empire?" tr'Khellian demanded hungrily.

"There are plots, or rumours of plots, everywhere," Vellen replied. "The Tal Shiar have their hands full maintaining order, even on ch'Rihan. There was a riot last week outside the Capitol. Everyone seems to be working at cross-purposes." The Rihannsu shook his head, and the hand he raised to rub at his left temple trembled slightly.

"What policy is favoured?"

Vellen blinked heavily. "The Empress is still known to favour peace and consolidation. The Praetor once held this view but of late his position is increasingly ambiguous. The Empress is being surrounded with aggressive and ambitious young men." He tailed off and shook his head, suddenly looking far older than he in fact was. Vellen had been one of the few Senators to avoid Shinzon's massacre and thus seemed to have become associated with the older crowd of survivors rather than the unexpectedly-promoted youths who now held office. "There is a growing movement on the floor of the Senate to re-engage our ship-building programme and embark on new wars of conquest. The Tal Shiar strengthens its hand by the day, but itself is riven with factionalism."

"Grim news indeed," tr'Khellian muttered, his dark brow furrowing. "What news of my father?"

"He struggles to steer a middle course," Vellen replied, "but he is subsequently scorned by those on the extremities of either opinion."

Savar flushed with anger at the very idea of his father being scorned. Only in a body full of villains and imbeciles could the great respect in which Senator tr'Khellian was held ever be endangered.

"The Senate's factions hold firm for only a few weeks at a time. Troubling news arrives from the Outlands, and all is again uncertain," Vellen sighed. "The dead hand of Shinzon maintains its grasp still," he said, bitterly.

"What, if anything," Savar asked, "do the Hydrans have to do with this?"

Vellen shook his head. "I am not certain." His eyes darted around the room again, and his shoulders grew more rounded, as if warding off unseen attackers. "We are certain that the Hydran Sovereign Monarchy is embarking on a major capital ship construction programme. For what, we are still unsure. The Tal Shiar's eyes have turned upon us all and grown less watchful of those outside the Empire."

"Have no missives been sent to the Monarchy?" tr'Khellian demanded.

"Only one formal envoy was despatched. I also found out that the Tal Shiar sent two separate missions into Hydran territory. None of them were ever heard from again."

The exile frowned grimly. "Was no search undertaken for them?"

Vellen eyed his old schoolmate levelly, reminding himself that he breathed air not flavoured with the sour stench of treachery. "No. The second Tal Shiar vessel sent into Hydran space was recovered two weeks ago. It was found adrift, twenty light-years on our side of the border, barely intact. No survivors."

"Surely that constitutes an act of war!" snapped tr'Khellian, his eyes flashing angrily at this heinous misdeed by the gruesome monsters that were the Hydrans. "Is nothing being done?"

"The wreck," Vellen said, enunciating his words sharply, "bore residual signs of Federation weaponry. A scan of the interior revealed trace amounts of human DNA."

Savar's jaw dropped half an inch and his dark, broody eyes widened with surprise. Could it be true? Had a Federation ship attacked a Rihannsu vessel? Legate Curran had told him the Hydrans were trying to stir up trouble between the Stellar Empire and the Federation -- but was this a cover story Curran had wanted him to convey back to the Empire, to allow the Starfleet impunity against Romulan vessels? Recovering, he began to voice this to the Senator.

Vellen shook his head wearily. "Of course he would wish you to believe that," he remarked dismissively, interrupting. "It serves the Federation's purposes."

"Is the Alliance in danger?"

"Look at it this way," Vellen remarked sourly, "two worlds formerly in the Neutral Zone have made tentative applications for Federation membership." The Senator's eyes now reflected the same ire as tr'Khellian's. "They are advancing to our borders, and not satisfied with that, allying with our neighbours against us."

"For what purpose?" Savar demanded.

"Territorial gain. To keep the Stellar Empire self-absorbed, lurching from one crisis to the next. To gradually shut us out from the post-war settlement in the Cardassian Union and the Delta Quadrant. They wish to put us back into isolation, Savar," Vellen remarked dourly. "Those who share your views are assisting them," he snapped.

"I have never advocated isolationism!" Savar barked, his eyes flashing. "You were present when I addressed the Senate. Does your memory fail you?"

Vellen clenched his jaw, and his hooded eyes swerved around the room again. He closed his eyes briefly, then looked back at the screen. "There is little space for moderation in the present climate," he said, somewhat more meekly, by way of apology. "Your words are abused by both extremes."

"What proof is there that the Federation and the Hydrans are in league? Aside from this one vessel?" Savar asked.

"There is apparently.. circumstantial evidence. Secret intelligence. A thousand rumours fly every hour, and this is often mentioned. There have been attacks on merchant shipping in the former Neutral Zone. The Tal Shair believes a guerilla terrorist movement, possibly sponsored by the Federation and the Hydran Monarchy, is responsible. Certainly the Starfleet vessels encroach ever further upon our space, aiming their sensors into the Empire. The Starfleet presence along their side of the border has doubled in the last year. Those opposed to the peace with the Federation have demanded reprisals. Even now there are rumours of something brewing along the border."

"Such as?"

The Senator's face darkened and he looked around again with nervousness etched into his features. "Three ships haven't reported in for nearly two weeks. The commander of the squadron is a known opponent of the peace deal. There are fears the ships may have gone rogue."

"Is this what the Empire has come to?" Savar demanded, incredulously. "Are things so unstable that any failure to meet deadlines is seen as a conspiracy?"

Vellen shook his head sadly. "The rumours could be correct. The squadron had been assigned to track the movements of a Starfleet capital ship, USS Pallas Athene. Even pro-Federation Senators expressed doubts about its mission." He glanced around again. "It's all in the file. I must go."

Tr'Khellian nodded, still frowning. This was a great deal to take in. The Rihannsu and the Federation were on the brink of a new cold war, and the Empire's disorganisation was putting on the front line men who were more than willing to escalate it into a hot war. "Thank you, Senator. I know your time is precious. This knowledge will be useful, and I am indebted to you." He gave a seated half-bow again.

VellenVellen nodded back. "Please keep me appraised of anything you hear. Beware the untruths Legate Curran will try to convince you of. He is a man without scruple or honour."

Tr'Khellian blinked at the remark - strongly-worded, a grave insult in fact - but nodded his assent. "Long life to the Empire," he stated, with feeling.

Vellen lowered his eyes. "All Glory to the Declared."

“Politics.”

Ramir Omar walked into the shuttle bay while his personal shuttle waited for his arrival. He climbed into the cockpit and then reviewed his incoming hail. The senator quickly checked that the channel was fully encrypted. He then accessed the channel.

“Jolan'Tru Father,” he said to the slightly elderly figure that appeared onto the screen.

“It is good to look at you again my son.” Colonel Omar smiled at his only son.

“What news from the home-planet?”

“A lack of political stability has rapidly inflated the currency. Our economy is worse than ever. Our alliance with the humans has been jeopardised and your treacherous friend the sub-commander veruul is gaining support.”

“Tr'Khellian is not my friend!” Omar hissed at his father though quickly then he calmed himself. “What kind of a support?”

“Pathetic pacifists are using the words of this treacherous veruul as a symbol of their cause. Tal Shiar agents have managed to brutally get rid of most of them including all of the supporting senators.”

“There were senators who were supportive of that cause?” Omar was rather surprised.

“Yes there were senators who were supportive of that cause.” His father emphasised onto his lack of using the present tense for that sentence. This behaviour indicated to the senator that his father had orchestrated these actions with pleasure.

“Good.”

“Tr'Khellian must be dealt with though. A diplomatic attaché has been dispatched to you. She shall be your bodyguard too.” His father knew of the total failure of the previous bodyguards who had been assigned to protect his only son. “This woman has very recently graduated from the military academy. This rather young woman is very beautiful. While she shall be assigned to be protecting you then her primary mission shall be to be carefully surveying the treacherous veruul.”

“Yes Father.” Omar hated it when he was an irritating second to the ambitions of his own father.

“Very Well Then.”

“Should we not be having this discussion personally?” Omar asked of his father.

“You should not worry my son. The channel that we are currently using is totally secure.”

“Who is this female assassin who is to be my bodyguard? A Tal Shiar Agent?” His father nodded to his only son.

“Goodbye my son.” The communication was ended with a very quick salute. Omar sighed to himself.

"Love Is In the Air"

(Occurs three days after departure for the Romulan Treaty Zone)

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

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 38
Outside Turbolift 2

~ A missing ship on the Romulan Treaty Zone. ~ Victor frowned as he moved down the corridor. ~ Someone's been spending too much time in the Kobayashi Maru simulator back at the Academy. ~ The memories of his own run through the simulator and the resulting flap during his performance review flitted through his head for a second before he discarded them as a waste of time. He'd done what he'd done, and that was that. He'd do the same thing again if he was in the same position. That was why he shouldn't ever have his own ship - he wasn't a leader, he was a doer.

The turbolift doors cycled open, stopped halfway for a full second, and then finished opening.

~ That's new. I wonder if there's a controller upgrade that's having problems fitting in with the hardware? ~ He stepped into the car after a glance assured him that there was one there. It was unlikely that the doors would open on an empty shaft, but he was paid to be paranoid so other people didn't have to be. He tapped out a maintenance report on his PADD and sent it off as the doors closed. ~ No point in making it someone else's problem. ~

As the car started to move, he returned to his earlier topic of thought. ~The Romulan Treaty Zone. Missing ship. Feels like a trap. ~ His teeth bared. ~ No, it is a trap. I just can't prove it... yet. ~

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 36
Outside Turbolift 2

Ella swung her toolkit with more jaunt than she felt as she left Engineering to look at the turbolift. From Engineering it didn't look like a problem but Ella knew from experience with the ship not to underestimate the Quick virus or the ship that Quick built. Better to have a first hand look at the problem.

She waited for the doors to open and was surprised to see Victor standing inside. Ella pushed back whatever feelings she had and entered the turbolift calmly. ~~Victor.~~ She acknowledged.

"Grey." He regarded her for a moment. "Turbolift doors opened wrong a minute ago."

~~Just checking now to make sure everything is running smoothly.~~

He nodded and remained in the back of the car as she opened her kit and started a diagnostic on the internal controls. After a moment, he asked, "Going to take long?"

She turned half way so he could read her hands. ~~Maybe. Busy?~~

"No rush. I'm off duty."

Ella turned back to the controls. She wanted to get this done as soon as possible; being this close to Victor was unnerving to say the least. She looked at the controls. They seemed fine. ~~Your floor should be up soon,~~ she told him a minute later.

He nodded. "Anything wrong with it?"

She shook her head.

"If you say so." His words indicated a complete acceptance of the idea that nothing was wrong simply because she had said so.

Ella didn't sign anything, merely made a noise that sounded irritated.

He frowned wordlessly - then his eyes suddenly narrowed as they looked at her, seemingly through her.

She caught the look as she looked over her shoulder. ~~What?~~

He didn't answer. Instead he stepped forward quickly, his presence expanding faster than she'd ever seen it so that he was again the thing that terrified her before he'd finished the single step needed to reach her across the lift car.

Ella felt her back want to press against the turbolift wall. ~~What?~~

He reached for her, hands moving like lightning, brushing past her upraised hands to grasp her jacket and jerk her forwards, towards him.

"Wh.." She began to hear herself say breathlessly. She gasped at both their actions.

As his arms folded around her he turned, drawing her to his chest, burying her face there with his embrace.

Confused, she wrapped her arms around him.

There was a flare of light as the panel she'd been standing in front of sparked and lashed out an arc of electricity that seared through the air over their heads as Victor let them fall to the floor of the car, the light brighter in the car's sudden darkness as it lost power.

Victor hit the ground first, absorbing the impact with a grunt, and lay here as he waited to see if there would be another arc. Nothing happened after a second, and he looked up, satisfied himself that it was done, and sat up, still holding Grey.

The momentarily disappointment that he wasn't reaching out to her disappeared and then she pushed away and jumped towards the control. Dammit, she thought as she fumbled around for the tool kit. Stupid emergency lights should have gone on by now.

Damn Quick virus, she decided. This was going to be next to impossible to do in the dark. She wasn't Geordi La Forge after all.

She gave up after a few minutes and then tried to sit back by Victor without colliding with him. Of course she managed to pat his thigh. A breath of frustrated air released was the only comment she made. He couldn't see her sign in the dark and there would be no more unintentional outbursts from her.

Victor had sat quietly as he waited for Grey to fix the lift controls, but her presence - and the hand she'd used to guide herself to the floor- told him she hadn't been able to. He was silent in the darkness for a second, and then tapped his combadge. "Krieghoff to Engineering."

Nothing happened.

He repeated the gesture.

Again nothing.

"Let me try yours," he asked, reaching a hand out and missing his mark slightly in the darkness to leave his hand resting against her chest.

Ella made an amused noise and then brought his hand to where the comm badge rested.

His voice appeared unaffected as he tried again. Still nothing. Ella sighed and sat back, banging her head on the wall of the turbolift.

Well, this sucks, she thought.

Victor frowned in the darkness and felt around for his PADD. Once he'd found it, he tried to call up a message blank and failed. The device wouldn't respond at all. "My PADD's out," he announced quietly. "Is yours?"

She tried hers and then threw it when it didn't work.

He absorbed the knowledge quietly, looked up at the roof of the car and tried not to think what would happen if another turbolift car impacted the one they were in. Better not to bring that up. "Does it take a long time to get someone out to fix a thing like this?" He paused, then reached out a hand and found hers after a pair of false landings. "Tap once for 'yes' and twice for 'no.'"

Ella tapped three times for "Depends." It shouldn't take too long though, she thought. They weren't all that backlogged in Engineering.

Victor took only a second to puzzle out what her gesture meant. He looked up again, the thought of another turbolift car slamming into this one and grinding Grey into something that no doctor could reassemble creeping back into his thoughts. He'd not wanted to mention it, but... "Are we safe here?"

She grunted and then looked up at the ceiling, which she could not see. She wanted to see how the lifts defenses were in place. Theoretically, they should be fine since the lift hadn't fallen yet but...

How was she going to get Victor to help her up there?

Ella grabbed around for his arm and then yanked it upwards.

Victor thought a second, nodded even though Grey couldn't see him, and stood up without releasing her hand. "I'll help you up." He reached down to lift her, hands starting at her shoulders and working their way to her waist.

Ella gulped and then forced herself to focus on the job. Victor held her up without any effort it seemed. Her hands fumbled a bit for the ceiling latch and then found the release. Only darkness was seen. Ella frowned and then cleared her throat hoping that Victor would help her up. There was a minute delay and then she was suddenly boosted high into the air. Ella squeaked as she caught the opening and then secured herself by slamming her elbow down.

She winced and made an "Ow" mimic.

No light illuminated the shaft. The entire system was down. Great. Well, Engineering defiantly would be there quicker. One would hope.

Ella frowned as she struggled to stay where she was, her legs swinging a bit. How the hell was she going to get down now?

After a moment, Victor's voice rose up from beneath her. "Grey? You done?"

Ella managed to rap once on the metal.

"All right. Wait." Everything was still for a second, and then fingertips brushed her foot, then her ankle. "I have you," he said quietly. "I'll support you while you get back through the hatch. When you're ready, just kick to let me know and let go - I'll catch you."

She rapped again and then worked carefully down. She kicked lightly when ready and then, after a deep breath, dropped.

Victor was true to his word. He somehow caught her in the dark.

Which was when the lights kicked on.

And from somewhere music started to play.

Ella looked around in puzzlement, as a soft red-purple light illuminated them and someone's voice started singing "Let's get it on."

"What the hell?" She mouthed to Victor.

Victor looked down at her in his arms. "I don't think that's where the person that set this up wanted to go, Grey."

She blushed slightly and pushed herself away again to go over to the controls, which she could now see.

Victor waited patiently as the deep voice continued to sing, making it plainer and plainer what 'it' was and how much the singer wanted to be getting it.

~~I don't BELIEVE this!~~ Ella's hands flew in exasperation.

"What?"

~~Its a program that Quick set up labeled "In the Mood." It looks like it was programmed to...the idiot probably forgot about it.~~

"Can you get around it?" Victor frowned up at the speakers.

~~I'm completely locked out from other functions,~~ Ella signed with a shake of her head. ~~I think it can only be dismantled by his code or from Engineering, hopefully. I'm going to kill that dweeb.~~

"No, let me," Victor said quietly. "You don't need to be doing that."

~~I wasn't serious, Tiger.~~

He shrugged. "I'm leaving anyway. Might as well be court-martialed off the ship as transferred."

Ella frowned. She tried bypassing a few circuits anyway and only succeeded in changing the music to some whiny bastard singing about how he didn't want to fall in love. She slumped down in defeat as he wailed on. "Nor Iiiiiiiiiii." Perfect. Just perfect.

Victor patiently waited for the song to wind down. "At least we don't have to worry about another car hitting us," he observed after a moment.

AND I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU" A woman started belting out.

Ella groaned. ~~I think I'd welcome that other car right about now.~~

"Love Is In the Air" Part 2 of 2

(Occurs three days after departure for the Romulan Treaty Zone)

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

****

USS Galaxy
Between Decks 25 and 24
Inside Turbolift 2

"If I say it can't get worse, it will," Victor pointed out with annoying calm.

~~That was almost a joke, Victor.~~ Ella signed with a slight smile. Damn, the man even looked good in red light. The universe was not fair.

He looked at her for a few seconds as the woman singing warbled in the background. "No, just an observation on the universe," he replied. "Like the weather. If you talk about it, it happens."

~~Are you sure you're feeling okay, Tiger?~~ Ella's fingers teased in reply. ~~That was almost cynical, even for you.~~

"Does it matter, Grey? The universe doesn't care how I feel, it just wants me to do the things I'm supposed to. What I think, or feel while doing them - or even *about* them - isn't something it cares about, so why should I?"

~~Gosh, Victor.~~ Ella replied dryly. ~~Sounds to me like you care more than you let on.~~

"No." He shook his head. "I don't. Like I said, there's no point to it."

~~Whatever.~~ She signed, in a tone found often in San Francisco.

"Do you care about things, Grey? Really care?" he countered abruptly, expressionless eyes on hers.

~~What do you mean? Of course I care about things.~~

"What?"

~~Myself.~~ Ella sneered.

"Besides that, Grey, even monsters care about themselves. Sometimes that's the only thing people care about."

~~I care about this bucket of a ship.~~ Ella snapped. ~~And Indy, Cass, Curtis and his wife, Laura, my parents, and for some reason, I care about you.~~

"You shouldn't."

~~For Pete's sake, why!?!~~

His expression never changed as he replied, "Because it isn't worth it, Grey. Because I'm not worth it."

~~This conversation isn't useful.~~ Ella snapped. ~~I'm going to try to fix the lift. Please don't talk to me unless you have anything new and meaningful to say.~~ She started to fiddle with the controls again as another love song came over the airway.

Victor watched her work for several minutes without comment. He'd said what he needed to say, and if she didn't want to accept it as the truth, there wasn't anything he could do about it. It was certainly obvious to him.

Another minute passed, then another, and his study of Grey's back as she knelt at the console led him to a momentary thought that he crushed as ruthlessly as he had all the others of its type he'd had about her. He stood, eyes lifting to the roof of the car, and frowned at the speakers as they switched to a soft, husky-voiced woman singing about love and loss, and shook his head. Shooting the speakers wouldn't solve anything.

He looked back down and asked neutrally, "Any luck yet?"

Ella frowned at the controls before half turning. ~~Meaningful, remember?~~ She presented her back again and resolved her intentions of being an absolute bitch. A couple minutes later and she slammed the heel of her palm against the wall. What was taking Engineering so long?! If she was calculating this right, they had seventy five more songs to go before the program terminated on its own.

Obviously the good doctor Quick did not live up to his name.

Victor frowned. "Something wrong, Grey?"

Ella shook out her hand before signing grumpily. ~~Stop staring at me, Victor. It won't make the songs go any faster.~~

"Songs go faster?" He looked at her blankly.

She shook her head. He wouldn't get the joke anyway. ~~Nevermind.~~

"All right." He stood there, looking down at her for a moment, and then offered her a hand up from the floor silently.

Ella looked at the hand for a second and then gave him her own.

Victor pulled harder than she'd expected, and Grey stumbled into his chest where he caught her to keep her from falling, his eyes unreadable as he looked down at her.

She looked up at him, her anger fading away for a moment. What could one kiss hurt anyway? It wasn't as if he were staying so that it would be awkward. She could probably shrug the moment off and blame the music. Slowly, Ella leaned forward.

Victor watched her lean in without blinking, without moving, as the husky-voiced woman segued into another song.

Ella paused for a moment, surprised he was making no move to move, and then mentally shrugged. Who understood why Victor did anything? She continued to move forward, giving him the opportunity to run to the other side of the turbolift if he needed, until their lips met. She blinked at this chaste kiss and then decided, what the hell, and wrapped her arms around his neck to initiate something more ambitious.

Victor, not really understanding until the last second what it was that Grey intended to do, reached up to stop her, but the hands aimed for her upper arms found her sides instead as those arms moved. For a moment he simply stood there, confused, as a part of him drank in the feeling of her against him, the feel of her lips against his, and the unconscious response to her that his own lips made.

Ever the opportunist, Ella decided that if he wasn't objecting this far, she might as well take it a step further. She increased the pressure to his mouth and tightened her arms around him.

"Mmmmph," Victor said as Grey pressed forward, not even certain himself what the words were going to be before her kiss stole them away from him. His head spun, and for a moment, for one single moment, he responded to her the way that he'd always wanted to respond to someone, the way that he'd never dared let himself dream of about her, or anyone else.

Ella blinked, shocked that he wasn't stopping it, and then let herself react the way she had always wanted to.

Victor's arms drew her close and lifted her up to him as one of her legs slipped around his for support. He growled once, the sound coming deep from within his throat as she pressed against him, one hand tangling in his hair and pulling his head down to her. His right hand made a fist in the fabric of her uniform jacked between her shoulder blades as his left supported her at the small of her back and then slipped lower to find better purchase and leverage to support her.

Ella made a sound that she hoped didn't sound too much like a moan as she moved the kisses for the time being along his jaw and neck.

Victor drew back for a second, his sense of presence starting to extend as he looked down at her, not pressing at her this time, but instead enveloping her, pulling her to him. In the red light his eyes were alien things, as he leaned forward and smelled her hair and face tigerishly.

Ella gave a small smile; let him do this ritual for a few moments, before searching out his mouth again.

In the back of Victor's mind, the rational part of him rebelled. There was something else present, something besides the scent of Grey's hair and skin, a smell that didn't belong, something foreign, but not foreign...

He looked up, eyes narrowed, and caught the faintest hint of motion at the vents overhead, a miniscule eddy of some thing that was being pumped into the lift car, something just a fraction heavier and thicker than the air - just enough to see if you looked for it. ~ What? Why would Quick...? ~

Victor looked back down at Grey and the way she had wrapped herself around him, the look in her eyes as she tried to draw him down again, the way her lips were parted, beckoning to him...

~ Smell... sex... pheromones. Like the androids, but for women, not men... ~ A rush of anger carried away the feelings he'd let himself feel for that one moment, and he growled again, angrily this time as he used the grip on Grey's jacket to pull her back and deny himself what she was offering. ~ She's not in control. She doesn't really want this - it's the pheromones, not me. I can't... won't... hurt her, friends still or not. Not like this. ~

Ella scrunched her eyebrows together and reached for him again. By the waistline of his pants.

Victor caught her hand. "No, Grey," he said, the hint of a growl still in his voice. He pointed up at the vents. "It isn't you doing this."

She looked at where he was pointing, the nice little make-out session confusing her ability to process anything for a moment. She smelt Victor and some kind of Indian incense. She tilted her head and looked at the vent, finally able to understand Victor's train of thought. She laughed softly. ~~It's okay.~~

"No, it's not," Victor replied, his voice retreating back to the flat, emotionally-scrubbed tones he'd used when he first arrived on the Galaxy and had recently reverted to. "It isn't real, Grey. It's just like with the androids - the chemicals, the pheromones, they're making you do this. It isn't you."

Ella felt something cold twist itself in her stomach. He really didn't understand, did he? He thought it was just some chemical thing. And even if she were able to explain, he'd probably just dismiss it as some chemical thing... given her past history with men. Couldn't be that she actually cared about him? Oh, no, Ella thought. Couldn't be that she was actually in lo..

~~What if it wasn't pheromones?~~ Ella asked, the new realization drawing the flushed color she had gained from kissing Victor away.

"Of course it is," he replied, eyes shadowed and unreadable in the red lighting. What he thought about in the shadowed recesses of him private thoughts didn't matter, it never had. "What else could it be?"

~~Oh,~~ She replied dully. "Then it must be. Because there's not another reason I would want to do that with you.~~

"You see?" Victor was silent for a moment, eyes on hers, making no move to release her or ask her to release him.

~~And you wouldn't want to do something like that with me.~~ It was a statement but Ella couldn't help raising her eyebrows in a question.

Victor closed his eyes and opened them back in a slow blink. "It wouldn't be real, Grey," he repeated slowly.

She felt like she had been slapped in the face. ~~I see.~~

Victor nodded wordlessly and let go of her, uncertain why it felt like he was turning loose of something more important than her uniform, but equally certain that it was, somehow, the right thing to do. "It has to be real," he said quietly. "Or it means nothing."

Ella was about to respond, probably with more venom than she usually liked to show, even to Victor, when the lights abruptly returned to normal and the music came to a screeching halt. The lift began to move again. In fact, if not for the remaining scent of incense in the air, one would have thought it had never stopped.

Victor rode out the shudder as the car started to move again and caught Ella by the arm to steady her. "Your people seem to have figured this out," he nodded, as if nothing they'd said before had happened.

Ella yanked her arm away. ~~My people have some brains at least.~~

The turbolift glided to a stop and the doors parted smoothly. ~~This is your stop, Romeo.~~ Ella signed coldly.

Victor nodded and stepped out into the corridor, only to stop and turn back, motivated by an impulse he didn't really understand. "Grey..."

The 'shush' of the closing turbolift door cut off his words as smoothly as it cut off his view of Grey as she stood there, staring at him with cold eyes. Victor reached for the call button to summon the car back, then shook his head and let his hand fall. ~ No. She's angry about what happened, what the chemicals almost made her do. No point in making it worse. ~ He turned and walked away. ~ Besides, it isn't like she's my friend any more anyway. At least I managed to do that right and stop hurting her. ~

"Homeward Bound"

Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Bridge

It was with genuine regret and not without puzzlement that Savar learned of the unexpected departure of Commander von Ernst. During her short time onboard as the Galaxy's XO, she had earned his respect as an efficient executive officer, a woman who was not afraid to make difficult decisions, to put people in their place, to - above all - get the job done. Her frosty demeanour had reminded him of his female instructors at the Imperial War College, and whilst it had not gone down well with this lapsadaisacal crew, who seemed to prefer fuzziness and mollycoddling to actual martial discipline, von Ernst had been what the Galaxy needed.

Now, another woman had stalked into command, barely taller than von Ernst, a wiry, compact creature, her features soft but her eyes hard. She had closeted herself in M'Kantu's ready room since coming aboard and not breathed a word to the crew save through intermediaries. He had been displeased to see her stride onto the Bridge without so much as a word to anyone. The loyalty and devotion of a crew should be without question, but, rightly, they expected to know where they stood. Clearly Captain Eliza Stuart had decided to keep her own counsel.

She reached the centre of the Bridge, and the first words she uttered in tr'Khellian's hearing made him choke.

"Set a course for the Rihannsu border, Delta Calath system, Mr. Savoie."

Henderson turned his head and made eye contact with the Rihana, by which time Savar had already regained his composure. Years of training suppressed his desire to demand the reason for the course that the Chief Helmsman was already laying in, but his mind burned with curiosity and his heart thumped intensely at the idea of being homeward bound. His imagination raced with possibilities and rifled through his analysis of the files sent to him by Vellen, which he had spent most of the previous night reading. Was the Galaxy being sent to reinforce the growing Starfleet presence along the border? Espionage? Diplomacy? That seemed too much to hope from this vessel, given the way they treated him and Senator Omar, and given the question marks hanging over Quentin. Was their mission related to the incident Vellen had mentioned about USS Pallas Athena and the three missing Rihannsu vessels? Too many questions, and not a single answer.

"Engage," came the order from the Captain, and the Galaxy sprang to warp, headed for Rihannsu space.

Von Ernst had been left behind. Within the next fifteen minutes, he learned that Henderson would be standing in as XO for the forseeable future. Savar's heart swelled with pride at this news, an apparent sign of trust, a return to greater responsibility and autonomy -- men under his command again! Alright, it was not a ship to command, but it was a section of one, and there was no disgrace in that. His eyes snapped to Ensign Pennington's face, and her expression said all he needed to know. She had never liked him, always railed against serving under him, and now the idea of answering to him as Acting Chief Tactical Officer was anathema to her. Well, he could deal with being disliked. But if she once went over his head, she would live to rue the day.

The pride swelling up in the Rihana diminished, vanishing like a burst balloon, when, upon their return to the Bridge, tr'Khellian's keen eyes spotted Henderson preparing his console to take the tactical controls over with the press of a single key. He averted his eyes downward, and despite himself, his shoulders sagged a little. Of course, he had been naiive to think any degree of trust had been accorded him, or to think he might be treated with genuine dignity. He glared balefully at the back of the heads of the Captain and her Acting Executive Officer, feeling put upon and used.

His mood darkened, the further the ship travelled towards Imperial space. Over the next few days it became clear that the Galaxy had been dispatched to investigate the Pallas Athena's failure to report in, though how this apparently secret information had filtered down to him, he had no idea. The more tr'Khellian consulted star charts, the papers sent by Vellen and the final scientific reports from the debris collected in the Quentin system, the more his doubts and suspicions grew, the more his slightly-paranoid mind began to invent connections, however improbable, between all these different variants. Day by day, the Galaxy drew nearer to the skies claimed by his people, a people who had rejected him. He began to sleep more fitfully as all the painful emotions linked to his exile, dealt with and put aside in the past, resurfaced to torment him. On the one hand, he was elated at the idea of moving nearer to all he held dear; on the other, he almost dreaded being seen by another Rihana serving in this subordinate role on a Federation starship -- he could see their sneers, sense their mockery, all the time his disgrace being compounded.

By the time the Galaxy reached the Delta Calath sector, the Rihana's face was drawn, and the lack of sleep beginning to show in darker rings around his fiery eyes.

"Ship to yellow alert status." Eliza Stuart turned to the Rihannsu officer manning her tactical arch. "The Pallas Athena?s last known position in this system, Delta Calath. It was investigating a distress call in the Lhoranth Asteroid Field. We?ll take the shortest distance course from here to there. Sensors to full, keep an eye on all communications frequencies."

Tr'Khellian nodded brusquely. He and Captain Stuart had barely exchanged more than a few sentences during the journey, and neither she nor Henderson nor Legate Curran had asked for his counsel. It would not come unbidden. They kept him in the dark, and he saw no reason to enlighten them in return.

The Lhoranth asteroid field was a well-known spatial phenomenon, roughly 7.5AU squared in area. The dense metals at the core of many of the asteroids made the field impenetrable to long-range sensors and for this reason the field occupied a key strategic location. In the first two wars the Empire had waged against the Federation, early capture of the field by the Rihannsu Galae had allowed warbirds to sally forth from the field, striking Federation shipping with impunity. In more peaceful times, when the Neutral Zone had been in force, the field had become a refuge for corsairs, fugitives and other reprobates, and more than once the High Command had been forced to contract with independent mercenaries to take care of niggling problem cases who had rooted themselves among the asteroids - some of which were large enough to be built upon.

Tr'Khellian initiated long-range scans of the sector and began patching into local comms traffic, having the computer 'listen' for any mention of USS Pallas Athena, or anything else unusual, which might give a clue as to what call the ship had responded to. The long-range scans were revealing little but standard merchant shipping, so far. Comms traffic had gone up since their arrival, but that was easily accounted for - the people of the Neutral Zone were only just becoming used to the presence of capital ships in their midst, hulking, brutish reminders of the new threats to their independence, and they were bound to discuss the arrival of the Federation flagship with suspicion and dread - in equal measure.

"Wolf in Sheep's Clothing"

By
Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Federation Officer

The Kelvan was drawn haggard. The spot between his neck and upper shoulders ached with a dull pain. He was actually quite surprised the bruising was as slight as it was. That Vulcan hit him pretty hard with the chair in the tournament.

He rubbed the back of his neck in a futile attempt to massage it.

It was late into Delta shift. The ship's environmental systems had dimmed the lights automatically to simulate early morning.

It had now been two weeks of restless, fitful sleep. The nightmares were vivid and relentless in their assault. They carried heavy pallets of shame and guilt onto him in the morning at which the graphic horror of the experience faded away.

He'd taken up the habit of writing down his visions as soon as he awoke, and the images were not pleasant at all. It explained his utmost desire to eradicate Karyn Dallas from his existence the day he found her in Krieghoff's quarters helpless and weak; so dependent on the metal hovervhair that left her frail without.

The Vulcan security officer put a stop to his machinations though, if he had thought of going through with them. Either way, security had not notified him of an investigation. Therefore, he surmised the Counselor had not decided to press charges against him. Probably to protect her own shady dealings.

He rolled his shoulders as he elevated himself to a sitting position on the end of his cot. Glancing at the chronometer on the wall, Curran grimaced at the early dawn hours. Drawing the opacity on his port windows lighter by calling it out to the computer always on sentry, the view presented to him was one of inescapable beauty. A corona of blue gases curtailed with fronds of lavender, reminiscent of the misted waters of his homeworld now long gone, hung lovingly light years distant.

Kylar gave himself into the wonderment for a short time. His failing human form would win out over his Kelvan mental superiority this day. It made no difference that this sullied him. He had fought his transformation for all these years since his arrival in Federation space 13 years previous.

It made it no less worse that he had difficulty in re-achieving his original form. When he had boarded his sleeper ship in 2267, they had been placed into hibernation to survive the long journey. Sometime during that trek, the ship's systems had been set on automatic scan for lifeforms. Each crew member would be given a different form by the ship's systems upon discovery of a lifeform within sensor range.

At some point during the voyage, Curran's body had been transformed into a Terran bipedal form. Not aware of the processes in which this had taken on his system, he was ever-learning how to reverse it.

Some Kelvans had been successful, others had not. Those that had been successful were those who were born to the new world, or of the older generations of Rojan and Kalendra whose technology hadn't been present to prepare them for other life forms.

Now he was of a generation that needed relearning. Who knew how long the Terran DNA had been entrenched in him?

The Kelvan in heart took several leaden steps to his office. His console was flaring red patterned blinking in warning. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and widened his eyes to clear them up.

And when he saw the communiqué his transmission taps picked up, they stayed open. A Rihannsu transmission. The fool thought he could receive a communiqué in Federation bounds encrypted?

He perused the recorded text log of Ramir Omar and father as they discussed topics of sensitive nature.

"A lack of political stability has rapidly inflated the currency. Our economy is worse than ever. Our alliance with the humans has been jeopardised and your treacherous friend the sub-commander veruul is gaining support."

"Tr'Khellian is not my friend!" A hiss. "What kind of a support?"

“Pathetic pacifists are using the words of this treacherous veruul as a symbol of their cause. Tal Shiar agents have managed to brutally get rid of most of them including all of the supporting senators.”

~That was a tantalizing bit of Intelligence. He would have to remit a copy of the transcript to Bolivar.~

“There were senators who were supportive of that cause?”

“Yes there were senators who were supportive of that cause.”

“Good.”

“Tr'Khellian must be dealt with though. A diplomatic attaché has been dispatched to you. She shall be your bodyguard too.”

“This woman has very recently graduated from the military academy. This rather young woman is very beautiful. While she shall be assigned to be protecting you then her primary mission shall be to be carefully surveying the treacherous veruul.”

~So, Tr'Khellian hadn't been forthcoming in all matters of his exile for ch'Rihan. I wonder what Savar would offer up for this piece of information?~

“Yes Father.”

“Very Well Then.”

“Should we not be having this discussion personally?”

“You should not worry my son. The channel that we are currently using is totally secure.”

~If I could decipher it, you can be assured your own transmissions have been monitored, Senator. I wonder how well the Tal Shiar will react to a Senator leaking internal information to his son who now resides on a Federation starship?~

“Who is this female assassin who is to be my bodyguard? A Tal Shiar Agent?”

Unfortunately, Curran did not know the answer to that. Text-only had its disadvantages.

Without any hesitation, Curran keyed his intercom buzzer. It was about time he met his new Captain.

"Curran to Captain Stuart. We have a situation on board. I require an audience with you immediately."

As he awaited an answer, he remitted the pertinent portions of the transcript to Major Bolivar.

"Wrong Shirt"

Lieutenant Corran "Spots" Rex
Vanguard One

Flight Officer Jasmine "Jazz" Heloi
Vanguard Six

Jasmine had reached the point of 'um...okay' and was now to the point of 'the world's out to get me' First, her wall was torn out thanks to the efforts of an operations officer. Secondly, her replicator decided to have a hiccup and spew hot chocolate all over her fresh uniform - thus meaning she had to take another shower and change again. This was all before she even started work.

Now, just to top it off, she had received a summons to Corran's office. She didn't think she had done anything wrong since it was their right to upgrade their fighter systems on their own time if they so desired. Maybe she wasn't supposed to talk to the then Chief Tactical Officer, now XO, about the fighters without telling him about it. Or maybe..."Jasmine Heloi," she told herself firmly, "Pull it together." 'You're a Betazoid, girl, use the skills. Calm, peace, imagine a beach somewhere...there ya go.'

A much calmer and far more collected Jasmine Heloi stepped into Corran's office after knocking, "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Corran was never, it seemed, in a good position for someone to be coming into his office. At this particular moment, the commander of vanguard Squadron was presently slipping a uniform tunic over his head - a white one, rather than the red Starfleet fighter pilots customarily wore. "Sure did." he replied automatically, then frowning, realizing his voice would be mumbled through the shirt.

"Sorry about that." he said, slipping the shirt down fully, and fixing his rank device onto his collar. "Some new changes came down the pipe this morning, and I had to get into proper uniform." he finished with a lopsided smile as he slipped his flight jacket back on.

Jasmine leaned against the threshold and laughed quietly. It never failed. There was never a good time to walk in on Corran. She eyed the new uniform and arched an eyebrow at the color, "White? They're making us wear white now? As if the dress uniforms weren't enough." Jasmine shook her head, personally she never cared for the color. White generally made her skin appear even paler, indeed she'd probably look like someone had dumped her into a vat of bleach but left her hair it's normal color.

"Oh, that's not all." he said, pointing to his collar where a pair of silver bars, the same insignia that a Marine Captain - now known as Lieutenants - wore, decorated his collar. "There's been a fleetwide change. As of 0800 hours this morning, there are now no longer any Starfleet or Starfleet Marine Corps Starfighter Pilots."

Jasmine blinked in shock, "What?" It was pretty much the only thing she could think of to say. Other than to think that she had been thrown into a really bad episode of the twentieth century's 'Twilight Zone.' No more Marine pilots, no more Fleet pilots, just...what?

Picking up a PADD on his desk, Corran read.

"From Starfleet and Starfleet Marine Corps Command.

Effective 0800 Hours, Stardate 57129.04, all Starfleet and SFMC Starfighter Pilots are reassigned to the "Starfleet Starfighter Corps", a newly minted autonomous division of Starfleet. SFSFC Commander will be Star Marshall Johnathan Hallsey. Further Chain of Command details will be available in briefing updates later in the day.

Uniform of the Day for all SFSFC pilots will standard Duty Uniforms or Relaxed Duty Uniforms (re: flightsuits), with a white tunic denoting assignment as SFSFC personnel.

A combination of SF and SFMC rank devices will be used to denote the rankings below.

O-11 Star Marshall
O-10 Chief Marshall
O-9 Marshall
O-8 Vice Marshall
O-7 Commodore
O-6 General
O-5 Commander
O-4 Major
O-3 Lieutenant
O-2 Flight Officer
O-1 Pilot
C-4 Cadet 4th Class
C-3 Cadet 3rd Class
C-2 Cadet 2nd Class
C-1 Cadet 1st Class
W-4 CWO 3rd Class
W-3 CWO 2nd Class
W-2 CWO 1st Class
W-1 Warrant Officer
E-11 Master Sergeant of SFSC
E-10 Master Sergeant of #F
E-9 Master Sergeant
E-8 Flight Sergeant
E-7 Sergeant
E-6 Tech Sergeant
E-5 Staff Technician
E-4 Technician
E-3 Crewman
E-2 Crewman Apprentice
E-1 Crewman Recruit

Further Updates will be available throughout the day, with Unit-Specific information to follow.

Signed,
FADM William Ross, CinC,
Starfleet FGEN George Hammond, CinC,
Starfleet Marine Corps SMAR Johnathan Hallsey, CinC,
Starfleet Starfighter Corps"

The Trill finished reading aloud, and then looked to the other pilot.

Jasmine released a whistling breath through her teeth as she claimed one of the seats in front of Corran's desk. She didn't quite know how to react to the news, especially given the whole new ranking scheme. "The higher ups were certainly busy little campers, weren't they?" She slipped into some of the typical slang of the acting scene without realizing it. "I'll have to keep reminding myself that I'm now 'Pilot' Heloi. Couldn't they of come up with something snazzier than pilot?" She shook her head and grinned.

Rex just sort of shrugged. "Maybe they figured it was all they needed. Doesn't matter anyways - that's not your rank." he replied, pulling a small case from the top his desk and tossing it over to Jazz.

"It's not?" she repeated dumbly, picking up the case. There was no doubt about it, she was in the Twilight Zone.

Inside the small box was a singe silver bar, the rank device typically worn by Marine First Lieutenants - and now Starfighter Corps Flight Officers. "Nope. Congratulations, Flight Officer Heloi." Corran smirked, taking on his most high-and-mighty official-type sounding tone. "This is actually a double promotion for you. In addition, I'd like you to accept a position as Vanguard's Exec."

Heloi's mouth dropped, and if she hadn't been sitting down she would have collapsed, "Holy Hannah. Thank you sir. And I'd be honored to take up the XO slot." She wasn't sure if she wanted to faint or kiss Corran. She settled for simply sitting in her seat and looking stunned.

"Well then, XO, as for your first duty, why don't you fill me in on what you and Henderson talked about?" came the Trill's reply as he put his booted feet up on his desk - his most customary officebound position. Sure was nice to have a desktop terminal that responded to all voice commands.

She knew that'd come up. How did she know? Oh, she just knew. "The 'Commander came down to the Fighter Bay to ask some questions of someone knowledgeable about them. He wanted to know if they were capable of taking on a capitol ship, if they could be modified for recon work, and if there was anything I'd like the bridge to do while we're in a fight. I gave him my opinion, sir." She then proceeded to fill him in on all she told Cassius about the Bonzai class, their capabilities, and her request of the bridge to give them more autonomy in combat.

"Relax, Jazz. You did good." the Lieutenant replied. "It's part of what made me pick you as XO. Cass already filled me in on the discussion when I spoke with him and Savar. I just wanted to see your reaction."

At least she no longer felt like she had her hand in the proverbial cookie jar and was caught. Jasmine visibly breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you, sir. I appreciate that."

"As I've been told the old Captain of this ship used to say, "No worries." " he said. "What's your take on all this "Starfighter Corps" business? Particularly, how do you think the Squad's going to take it?"

She shook her head, "I suspect that T'Shani won't take it too well. As is, I know she's not that thrilled with having a 'Fleeter' as her CO. I can't see a problem with the others, though the color might take some getting used to for poor Kettch. However, like everything else, they'll learn. It's a good group of pilots that we have assembled here."

"I agree. About T'Shani as well. She's a good enough pilot, but something about her has me concerned. No offense, but her abilities put her as the third best pilot in the squadron, behind Kettch and myself. Nominally, she'd be up for XO instead of you, but something about her makes me uneasy." Corran stated, his tone growing serious for the first time in the discussion. "It may be nothing, it may be everything. I'm not sure."

Jasmine nodded and frowned in thought, "I wouldn't discount your feelings, sir. My people are strong believers in the strength of emotions - and I've seen first hand that the Trill and humans have a greatly developed sixth sense or 'gut feeling.' I can keep an eye on her, if you like."

"I hate admit it, but that might not be a bad idea." After a moment's pause, he spoke again - his voice taking on a hollow quality that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Five hundred years, Jazz. That's how old my symbiont is. I've been a fighter in one way or another for most of that time, and I've seen a lot like her. And they always, always go down fighting. And it isn't always just their enemies they take with them."

She repeated her earlier gesture of a nod. "That's what I'll do my best to make sure doesn't happen. Though I am fully aware that there will be some hard feelings on her part because of my promotion. I'll keep an eye on it." Her previously composed expression turned to a brief smile, "There is, after all, a reason many Betazoids become counselors."

"Well, that's true enough." the Lieutenant replied, before passing the PADD over to Heloi. "Get changed into a white tunic, and then track down all the pilots and make sure they know about this. I've got to get on the comm with a Commodore something or other... our new bureaucratic oversight."

"The joys of command, eh sir? I'll change and then hunt them down. Is there anything else you need from me before I take off?" Heloi stood gracefully from her chair and brushed back an errant strand of reddish hair.

"Nope. That's it." Corran replied, and then started looking for the PADD that had the name of that Commodore on it. "Dismissed, Flight Officer."

"Sir," she straightened her pose and saluted crisply, before loosing the formality and winking at him. After that response, Jasmine turned on her heel and headed out the door. 'Wonderful,' she thought to herself as the doors obligingly slid open, 'I have to change...*again.*'

"Touching Base"

By:
Ensign Ayara Sami
&
Lieutenant Curtis Geluf

==--==

Sami heaved an audible sigh as she wrung her fingers in a desperate attempt to slip the anxiety levels from her as she would her uniform. However even her best attempt at slow breathing, and steady counting, failed. She was nervous, nervous about her first assignment, nervous about being away from home, and nervous about meeting her superior.

Nevertheless, she had to move forward.

"By the prophet, please don't let me make a fool of myslf." She uttered lightly, as she tapped the claxxon of Lieutenant Curtis Geluf, the Chief Operations officer of the Galaxy, and her new commander.

Curtis had been waiting patiently for the past few minutes, ever since he had picked up the sound of footsteps in the hallway headed towards the office. He used to shout "come in" just as people got to the door, which he found hilarious. But it spooked people out and he quit the practice.

Waiting a full two seconds after the chime, the Kerelian called out, "Come in."

Taking a last moment to collect her thoughts, she stepped forward until the doors hissed open. There was a lieutenant sitting at his desk, who was looking up towards Sami in an expression that she could not recognize with her nerves twisted how they were. She stepped up towards his desk, stopping a few feet away before her already tensed body stretched into the position of attention. "Ensign Ayara, reports."

'She's nervous as hell' Curtis thought to himself, surveying the officer before him. She was quite young, and had a kind face. "It's alright Ensign, you can relax." he finally said.

Sami stammered, disappointed of how poor a job she did at trying to mask her anxiety. "Yes sir." She said quietly, giving her a good mental curse out to herself.

"Have a seat Ayara." Curtis motioned to her.

"Aye sir..." she uttered lightly while moving to a seat next to her. She felt like she was moving strangely while she placed herself in the seat. Even while she tried to, she struggled to keep eye contact with him.

Her difficulty maintaining eye contact was not lost to Curtis, he would have to try his best to calm her a bit.

"Ayara, relax. I know how you feel. I remember my first real posting. It was on the original Galaxy in fact, I had to report to a man by the name of Captain Brohde, who is THE biggest tightwad in the universe. A pain in the butt to deal with. Hopefully, you'll see that I'm nothing like that at all." Curtis reassured her.

Sami glanced down at her feet for a moment before finally convincing her to lock eyes with him, and to be strong... like her parents. "It's not that I thought you were going to be mean sir... I'm just... nervous." She admitted.

"Tell me a bit about yourself. I've gone over your Academy records of course, I'm very impressed." the Kerelian continued.

Sami smiled faintly, managint to keep her eyes with his more than she was looking around. "I was born on Bajor, but raised on earth." She began. "I... uh, I mean my biological parents died when I was very young, so I was raised by human parents instead." She spoke, with every bit of sincerity and love for both sides of her family.

She continued. "I... wanted to be a starfleet officer since I was very young, because they were the ones who found me." She paused, knowing that she wasn't making sense, she usually didn't like talking about her past even when she wasn't nervous. "My parents tried to escape our world during the occupation, so that I could live in safety... but we were found, and attacked. My parents hid me, and were killed. Everybody that they found were killed."

Sami caught herself dwelling in her past, so she pulled herself out. "Anyways... I mean... I, uh... I'm just look forward to duty sir."

Curtis could see the pain of it in her eyes, a pain he knew himself all too well.

"I understand." he answered, "I know what its like. My planet erupted in civil war when I was young. My story is not so different from yours in fact."

"Still." Curtis continued, "That's a topic we shouldn't stray too far down I think. At least, not at this meeting." He met her eyes, trying to convey all the respect and kindness he felt towards her for her pain.

Sami nodded, smiling faintly. "Yes sir."

"Let's talk a bit about what your job will be on the ship." Curtis said, shifting tone from seriousness to jovial.

"Sounds good, sir." Sami replied, worried that despite her training, that she would have missed out on something important in her training, and that she wouldn't be able to perform her duties. After all, training, and experience... were two very different things.

"I'm placing you on Gamma shift on the bridge. You'll be manning the main OPS console durring that shift. You will be in charge of the OPS officers also assigned to that shift. Basically, you'll be doing my job while I sleep, minus the paperwork and most of the headaches." Curtis explained.

Sami was a bit surprised by the details of her position, although ever since she had left the academy, she had always hoped of being lucky like some of the others and get a chief position. But then again, she knew that there was a lot to learn. She overcame the book materials, now it was time for real life.

"I... I understand, sir." She flashed a weak smile.

"This is all tentative of course." Curtis continued, "If you don't feel you can handle it, I'll change your assignment."

Sami shook her head after a moment, smiling again. "No sir, I would really like to try. It's not what I was expecting for my first assignment... but I always prefer a challenge to anything else." She replied honestly.

"That's exactly what I was hoping to hear." Curtis' grin widend, "Looks like you'll be a great asset to the department."

Sami nodded carefully, continuing a weak smile. "I hope so sir, thanks."

'Operations'

Ensign Jasmine Heloi
Ensign Colby Elliot

Colby Elliot put on the vest and put the tools he figured he’d need in the pockets of the vest and on the loops of his belt. For the first time he missed the rush and the urgency and the gunfire, funny thing that. He sighed to the open operations center then set out.

He moved down the corridors of the Galaxy with out much of a pace, he was wasting time. This was dull and he suddenly realized why people didn’t want to be operations officers, there wasn’t shit to do. He was used to running in and working while STS shot the hell out of everything around him and after that on the shuttle and to get the hell out of there. But now he was going to repair a power connection. Colby shook his head and clicked the door chime, he needed in the room to get behind the wall. This was not a conversation he looked forward to. He hadn’t done this sorta thing before and could easily imagine something terrible, like a hairy naked guy or and angry naked guy, or something along those lines.

Thankfully, she wasn't naked, but she was wearing a robe over her pajamas and looked suitably disheveled for someone who had just recently been awakened. Jasmine Heloi yawned as she opened the door, blinking slightly at the lighting outside her semi-darkened quarters. She, like most Betazoids, was not concerned about her state of dress and would have answered the door the same even if she had been naked -however, she had lived among humans long enough to recongize their reluctance in displaying or being shown naked bodies. Jasmine shook her head slightly at her thoughts and managed a smile as she spotted the officer standing outside her quarters, "Can I help you?"

Colby raised an eyebrow, she was much nice to look at then a naked hairy man and for a moment he forgot exactly why he had shown up at the woman’s door. "You...” he said then smiled dumbly, “Sorry, I’m here to get in your room.” he smiled a little less dumbly, “I just need to fiddle with your connections,” Colby closed his eyes, “Shit, I mean I need to fiddle with the electric connections behind on of your walls. I mean I’m sure you don’t need me to fiddle with anything of yours.”

Jasmine couldn't prevent the musical laugh that escaped her lips at the man's obvious flustered answer. There were many, many things that she could say to him in response to the fiddle comment - most of them inappropriate in the extreme - so she settled for a nice and simple, "Um...okay. I hope you don't mind if I continue getting ready for the day. You managed to wake me before my alarm."

“Oh, uh, no that’s fine I just need to go over here.” He said pointing to the far wall and moving toward it. “Just pretend I’m not here.” He said as he knelled down and went to work on removing the panel and working on what was set behind it.

Jasmine nodded and went about getting ready, disappearing into the bathroom for a time, then emerging again in a better state of dress than before. When she spotted the officer still fiddling with the wall connections, the fighter pilot spoke up, "Can I offer you something to drink or anything? It seems rather impolite for me to have you fiddling with wiring and not even offering you some sort of refreshment."

Colby looked up from the power conduit and smiled a little, “Sure, a glass of water would be great.”

Heloi nodded and quickly got a glass down from her cabinet. As she was preparing the drink, she realized that she didn't even know the name of the person that was currently tearing her wall apart. She normally wouldn't have let anyone inside if she didn't at least know their name, but she supposed she was getting a little soft after being in the fleet for all this time. Stalkers were a rare commodity on starships, after all. Jasmine brought the glass over to the man and cleared her throat, "Here you go. Um...I'm probably being dreadfully rude, but what is your name? You didn't exactly introduce yourself when you first arrived..."

Elliot laughed in a way that was a mix between a grunt and a laugh, “Sorry, I’m Colby, Colby Elliot.” He said, he took the glass from her hand softly and took a drink, “What’s yours?”

"Well, Colby. I'm Jasmine Heloi. Pleasure to meet you," Jasmine smiled at him, at it was once again perfectly obvious why the vid shows picked her for the lead role of Adora Starfire.

“Well Jasmine,” Colby said as he worked on the power conduit, “I think

I’m just about….Ah, done.” He pulled the tools from the hole in the wall and put them into the pockets of his vest. He took another drink of water then set the panel back onto the wall, “You know, this may sound like a cheap pick up line but have I seen you before?”

She suppressed the urge to sigh, 'Here we go again.' "I have one of those faces," Jasmine shrugged slightly.

“Fair enough, lots of people think they know me because of my name, but they’re just thinking of Colby Cheddar.” He said and rolled his eyes.

Jasmine laughed musically, "I certainly would have never associated you with a food, Colby."

“Some people are named after their parents or grandpartents, I’m named after cheese.” He said smiling, “Or worse, when I was first going to the Academy half my instructors had seen me play, kept asking me why someone like me would be in Operations,” he said rolling his eyes.

"There are worse things," she replied after a moment's thought. She knew of most them - given first she was a too-educated actress, then she was an actress playing a military officer. Sometimes, it amazed her that humanity had survived as long as it had.

“Yeah,” Colby replied, “But then there aren’t many times in life where you can’t say it could be worse.”

Jasmine chuckled, "And I've experienced a couple of them. But I'm distracting you from your work, I'm sorry, Colby."

"No that's alright," Colby said looking at the readings from the tricorder as he scanned the wall he had just worked on. "I think that will get it." he held the glass of water toward her, "Thanks for the watar, I can get out of your quarters now that this is done."

She took the water glass from him and nodded, "No problem, Colby. If you need to get in here again to work on that, just give me a call." Jasmine smiled brightly at him.

"I'll remember that," Colby said with a small smile, "Maybe I'll bump into you later." he said before disappearing back into the corridor.

"Meeting Stiener"

By
Erik Stiener,
Self-Proclaimed Engineering Advisor (Fmr. SF, Final Rank Lt.Cmdr.)(APC)
and
Lt. Ella Grey,
Engineer, although in retrospect probably should have taken up Botany

Time: Beta Shift, 21:00

Stiener creeped into an oddly empty engineering......perhaps his wealth of knowledge would be of assistance. Probably not."Ahh.....yes.." The Master System Display glowed in from of him.

Ella happened to look up at that moment to see what she assumed was an unauthorized person in Engineering. They'd been getting that a lot lately, kids who liked to play hide and seek near the warp core and overbearing parents who wanted to see what their children (who were probably playing hide and seek in Starfleet from their parents) did for a living. She walked over to the man and tapped him on the shoulder.

Erik spun around and screamed like a little girl. "Geez! Think you could have spoken instead of just TAPPING my shoulder?"

She jumped back at bit at his scream, her fingers flying in apology. Then she got out her computer PADD. *I DIDN'T MEAN TO STARTLE YOU. I THOUGHT IT WAS A BETTER APPROACH THEN WAVING MY ARMS UP AND DOWN. CAN I HELP YOU?*

"Uh....the name's Erik Stiener. Don't worry, I'm former Starfleet, and from the pips on your neck, I outrank you. I was looking for Commander Suder."

He made a nervous, toothy smile.

*HE'S OFF DUTY AT THE MOMENT.* Ella tilted her head. *CAN I LEAVE A MESSAGE?*

He pointed at his own throat, clearing it at the same time....his face displayed a questioning look, with the same sheepish smile. His dead left arm was cocked and folded against his torso.

Ella raised an eyebrow. She pointed at her own throat and then shook her head.

"Well....a message. Tell him that his new Advisor is ready for duty. Well, Not a legal advisor, since the paperwork is still going through in the Engineering Corps, but I'm fully qualified." "I assume you are the Assistant Cheif? Shake?" He positioned his dead left arm for a hand shake.

She blinked and then took the hand since she didn't want to be rude. Ella tried to keep a minimum amount of displeasure from showing upon her face as her hand came in contact with the cold flesh of his.

*I'LL LET HIM KNOW THAT YOU DROPPED BY* She wrote once her hand was free.

"Of Course. And come check out my shop some time. I've got all kinds of worthless junk." Erik, nodded and bumbled out.

Ella shrugged and went back to work.

"Here We Go" - Part 1

Ens. Elijah Faraal

aboard the Galaxy -- crew quarters

=/\=

Elijah sat in his quarters staring down at a datapad he'd recieved a few months ago. He'd been trying to work up the courage to see Lt. Corran Rex, but just couldn't get past the info on the padd. The padd outlined in not so few words the creation of a starfighter squadron to assist the Galaxy in times deemed necessary. This was the kind of thing that excited Elijah. It was what inspired him to become a pilot in the first place. He set the padd aside.

"Computer. Increase light by twenty-five percent."

the computer beeped accordingly and the room grew slightly brighter. He stood and walked to the sonic shower, leaving the bed unmade and his sleep clothes spread about the floor. He stood, getting clean, and thought glazed over with thoughts of actually joining the Vanguard. He noticed another padd on the counter as he stepped out of the shower. He'd almost forgotten. A new Navigation officer had come aboard. Elijah meant to introduce himself and give her a grand tour (even though he knew she where everything was most likely).

As he put on his uniform and straightened his insignia in the mirror, Elijah made himself a promise to at least talk with Lt. Corran Rex this week, maybe after he got off shift. HE walked through the door as they opened and closed with that familiar swoosh.

"Compter, lock quarters, authorization Faraal Zero One."

The door locked, and Faraal spun on his heel in the direction of the bridge. Since they had arrived at the edge of the Neutral Zone, there hadn't been much action lately. Not much to do other than monitor the engines, keep everything lined up. He chuckled to himself he sounded like an ops officer.

He passed a few people on his way to the turbolift none of whom he recognized. He thought about when he had first come aboard the Galaxy, and he realized with a start how few people he actually knew. The only person to actually sit and talk with him had been the chief of flight control, Lt. Savoie. Elijah made another mental note to get to know more people. The ship was growing. More and more people joined her crew on a regular basis.

Elijah entered the Turbolift.

"Bridge"

The doors shut and he started moving. He rubbed his shoulder as the turbolift sped twoard its goal. He had taken up kayaking and he feared that he over did it somewhat yesterday. He focused two fingers on the sore spot and knots of muscle in his shoulder. They glowed a faint yellow for a minute, and a warmth spread over the skin. His head spun for a moment, but after a few seconds he was able to steady himself with his hand against the wall. He rotated his should a few times, testing to see if it was still sore before letting go of the wall. Nonplussed, he gave his tunic a tug downward to straighten the wrinkles, and stepped out onto the bridge as the doors slid open.

"Ensign Faraal reporting."

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