"Of White Shirts and Blue Skin..."

by
Lieutenant Corran "Spots" Rex
(Vanguard Leader)

Flight Officer Jasmine "Jazz" Heloi
(Vanguard Five)

Flight Officer T'Shani "Forgehammer" A'Akledorian
(Vanguard Three)

(Timeline note: Takes place immediately before Rex/Henderson: "Lateral Pass")

----------

Jasmine slid a finger between the new white tunic and her neck and pulled slightly. It never failed - get a new uniform tunic and it was inevitably too tight around the neck line. She generally preferred a loose collar, but that was a remnant of her civilian days. The Betazoid sighed slightly and picked up her new rank insignia and pinned it to her collar. Using the mirror to double check it's positioning, Jasmine grimaced at her reflection. White - she really wasn't that fond of that color.

The newly promoted, not to mention washed out looking, Vanguard XO sighed. Now that she looked the part, she had to break the news to the rest of the squadron. She had no worries about her wingman, Tyten was a good person though she suspected he'd be taking her out for a celebratory drink once he found out. The others of the squadron would probably follow along the same lines - everyone, that was, except for T'Shani.

The Andorian pilot was Marine through and through. Now, she had to tell her that not only was she no longer a Marine, she also had to report to Jasmine as the new XO. The Betazoid firmly reinforced her mental shields in preparing for that particular encounter. She would be meeting T'Shani in a matter of minutes in one of the pilot briefing rooms. The rooms were generally unoccupied and Jasmine figured that the surroundings were neutral enough as she broke the news. It made sense to her to first speak to T'Shani before she spoke to the rest of the squadron - simply because she expected the most resistance from her. With another grimace at her expression, Jasmine turned and left her quarters. As the new XO, she had been given better quarter s that were closer to the flight deck than before. That was a perk since it met she made it to the room a few minutes before she had asked for T'Shani's arrival. Now, if she could only loosen the damn collar.

***

T'Shani A'Akledorian was not in the greatest of moods--as it were; having just been told by Eliza Stuart that she was not allowed to carry out General Houghton's mission-orders.

[Heloi to A'Akledorian]

Tish arched her antennas in curiosity and stopped in the corridor as she tapped her commbadge to reply. "A'Akledorian here, Ensign," was all that she said in reply; wondering what Jasmine might need from her. There was a brief pause, as if the Betazoid woman was trying to think of how to say something...

[I need to speak with you, First Lieutenant. It's regarding the squadron. Can you meet me in Pilot's Briefing Room A?]

~This is interesting....~ "Very well, I will be there in two minutes. A'Akledorian out," she tapped her commbadge off and entered a turbolift...

** Two Minutes Later **

Jasmine tugged again at the corner of her collar and grimaced as it seemed to get even tighter. Now, not only was her collar too tight, she was wearing white, and was about to have a conversation she wasn't quite looking forward to. She hadn't corrected T'Shani when she had addressed her as Ensign, why should she? The Andorian didn't know she had been promoted. Heloi shook her head at her thoughts and turned towards the doorway when she heard it's unmistakable hiss of opening. Of course, the sound preceded the arrival of T'Shani and Jasmine settled on a smile of welcome in the hopes that this would not go too badly.

~Interesting...~ Tish noted the white tunic that Heloi was wearing as she walked into the briefing room, and stood at the far end of the table. "You wanted to see me Ens..." T'Shani paused as she looked closer at Heloi's collar. ~What the...is that a First Lieutenant's Bar she's wearing...but why the white tunic?~

Clearing her throat, "I was not aware that you had transferred your posting...'Lieutenant."

"Actually, it's Flight Officer now," Jasmine replied, thankful that the first question was the easiest to answer. "The Marine and Starfleet Fighter Corps have been combined." She held out a PADD with the pertinent information on it for the Andorian's perusal, "We're now under the auspices of the Starfleet Starfighter Corps. The new ranks essentially follow that of the Marine Corps, save for the titles. Pilot is the equivalent of Ensign or Second Lieutenant, Flight Officer of Lt. JG or First Lieutenant, Lieutenant to Lieutenant or Marine Captain, Major to Lt. Cmdr., and Commander to Lt. Colonel. And it goes on from there. The PADD I just handed you details the new ranks. All Starfighter Corps personnel will now be designated by white tunics." She gestured at her collar and shrugged, "Can't say much for the color but beggars can't be choosers."

~WHAT...THE...FUCK...~ Tish could feel her blue blood begin to boil, as she read over the PADD that Heloi handed her. ~There is no *FUCKING* way they're taking me from the Marines!~.......

Now came the hard part. There was no easy way of putting this particular information, so Jasmine decided directness was the better part of valor, "There is one other thing, T'Shani," she went for the first name both because it was more personal and because she still wasn't used to the new rankings, "Lieutenant Rex has appointed me as his XO." The Betazoid watched the other woman carefully for her reaction, knowing that that would tell her all she needed to know about how T'Shani would regard her from that point onwards.

~T'shani!......T'SHANI!!!!!??...Like she's trying to be some sort of.....*friend*!!!!!~ Tish resisted the urge to throw the PADD across the room...

Jasmine had to fight back from wincing at the strength of the Andorian's emotions. She very dearly hoped that the famed Andorian tendency towards violence when aggravated was ... well, exaggerated to say the least.

Truthfully Tish could care less if Heloi was the new XO. Umarin-knows the woman was a kiss-ass to Rex, probably his little "Yes-Sir" woman....and if she wanted to be the Exec, well-then, fine. But this..this...*reassignment*??!!!...

T'shani gripped the PADD tightly in her strong Andorian hands as the rage built within her; her antennae flattening against her skull and her eyes becoming steely and cold.

~Crap~ was all the betazoid pilot thought as she observed the reaction. "T'Shani, are you... allright?"

**CRRRRAACK!!**

Tish was about to yell, but instead, she looked down to the pieces of broken PADD in her hands...then threw them to the ground. Taking two *HUGE* steps, she came face-to-face with Heloi...

Heloi leaned back a bit, as the strength of the other woman's emotions was actually starting to give her a headache. "Control yourself, Flight Officer." she stated, it taking a massive amount of effort to display no facial reaction.

~I'll show you control!~ She thought as the anger and hurt rose within her. This was like a--no, it was *more* than--a slap to the face! After all her service, all her time, *this* is how Starfleet repaid her: by taking away her honor and pride....and making her where *white* on top of it! The outrage! The indecency! The-the-the...........

Neither woman seemed to hear the door to the briefing room swish open, as Corran strode in. He had a PADD in hand, and was actually about to summon some of the other pilots to inform them of the new changes.

"I seem to be interrupting something." The CO of Vanguard stated. "Flight Officer A'akledorian, would you mind explaining exactly why you look as through your about to rip Flight Officer Heloi's arms from her sockets?"

Tish paused for a second--her left antenna swiveling to *look* at Corran. Quickly, she realized that her right hand was hovering above Heloi's throat. ~Ooops...old habit~ she quickly lowered her hand, took two *HUGE* steps back, and stood at full-attention.

"Sir! The *Exec*," she said that last word with some distaste, "was informing me of the divisional changes that have taken place, Sir!" was all she said, locking her eyes--and antennas--with Corran.

Rex sighed, and rolled his eyes. He'd hoped that a trained officer could have controlled her temper a little more ore than she apparently was. Apparently, he was wrong. "I think I'm aware of that, Flight Officer, as I'm the one who told her to do it. Jasmine, you can go."

"Aye sir." the Betazoid replied with a sense of relief, and departed the small lounge.

Tish kept her eyes locked with Corran's as her antennas followed Heloi's departure. ~Great, a fucking kiss-ass for an XO, and a schizophrenic, lazy-ass bigot of a CO! Umarin! If only I had been able to get on with Rogue Squadron...or just stay in damned Red Division...is he saying something?~ Her antennae swiveled back towards Rex as he began to rant...

"This, right here is your problem, T'Shani." Rex noted. "This attitude of yours, that the universe owes you some giant fucking favor? Get over it already."

"Not the *entire* universe, Sir," she quipped. ~Just the fucking Romulan's~

"No one said this was off the record, and you definitely did not get permission to speak freely, A'Akledorian." the Trill snapped back, interrupting her. "So shut up and listen."

~Fuck you, too, Sir.~ was all she thought. She had very little patience *or* respect for the man. And if he--and the others of Vanguard--didn't care to know *her*, one bit, but rather judge... well, then, she didn't feel that *he* should earn any of *her* respect.

No, only a *very* select few had T'Shani Ardorannan A'Akledorian's full respect: her murdered clan-mates, her family in Ri'noor, the marine that had saved her on Seltax VII--Korman Blackar (now dead), Colonel Markay'din at Marine OTS, General Houghton of Red Division, and--of course--her best friend from childhood, Tron. But, that was *it*. And it didn't look as if she'd be adding anyone from the Galaxy to her *good* list anytime soon. ~Well, maaaabye Henderson....~

Hell, Rex may have truly been over four-hundred years old--as he claimed--but he still didn't know *shit* for how to treat a Marine. ~Some species just live *too* long...~ she thought as a mental smile formed in her mind. ~Is he *still* ranting?!~ she tried to pay attention to his tantrum...

"You are a pilot in my squadron. You are not a Marine anymore, and I'm not 'Fleet. We're both members of the Starfleet Starfighter Corps, we're both wearing the same color shirt, and we are both on the same damn side. I want you to stop treating every other member of this squadron like they're your enemies, because we're not. But let me make one thing abundantly clear." Rex ranted flatly, an authoritative tone coming to his voice that the Andorian couldn't recall hearing before - a coldness that had never been in any of the many training scenarios the squad had run together.

T'Shani only cocked her left antenna back--the Andorian version of a Vulcan's raised-eyebrow. "Yes, *'Lieutenant*," she almost spat out at him.

"You are under my command. That makes me responsible for you, so by everything I hold holy, you are not going to fuck up and cost the lives of any of the members of this squadron, especially yourself. You're a good pilot, but you need a severe trim on the ego. If that doesn't happen, if you can't learn to play nice, I'll do my damndest to make sure you get grounded permanently. Understood?"

The warrior in T'Shani had finally had enough. This man obviously *didn't* give a fuck for her; only his little *friends*: Kettch, Heloi, and whatever other buddies he and that cavalcade of fuck-ups in his head called associates....she wanted to break something again; that always made her feel better. Instead...

She stood there, at full attention, her eyes still locked with Corran's. There was no way she was going to back down to this fuckup-excuse of a commanding-officer. But, there was *still* protocol...

"Permission to speak, Sir!?" she said crisply. Frankly, she didn't give a Teegh's-ass if he *didn't* give her permission; she was still going to talk.

"Why the hell not?" Rex muttered under his breath. "Go ahead."

T'Shani snapped from her at-attention stance and leaned her tall frame against the briefing-room table, across from Rex; her hands flat and spread on its surface. Staring menacingly at Corran--her antennae arched forward and pointing directly at him--her yellowish-gold pupils squinting coldly at him, she began...

"Holy?! HOLY??!! From what I have seen, you don't hold anything *holy*, Corran Rex." her deep voice booming in the room.

The Trill raised an eyebrow as the younger officer seemed to verge on an apoplectic fit. He chose not to say anything as the ranting continued.

"You--or should I say--*Vorrin*," she spat-out in disgust, "go gallivanting around this ship, as if you own it! As if your great life-experiences have made you so much *better* than the rest of us poor shits who don't have the *luxury* of your seemingly-limitless life-knowledge." She watched Rex's face turn a little more ashen at the mention of the old smuggler, inside him...

"Not better, Flight Officer. Simply more experienced." Corran offered rationally. "And you know absolutely nothing about me, my past hosts, or why I am the way I am. So you can stop commenting on that right here and now. If you have something to say relevant to why you just treated Heloi the way you did, relevant to the way you treat everyone else on this ship - or even, in fact, relevant to why you're currently behaving like a human teenager, I would dearly love to hear it." He was still giving her that same even stare, his arms folded in front of his chest as he leaned against the wall in the same position he'd been in since he'd entered the small briefing lounge.

Corran was about to say something more, but T'Shani cut him off with the wave of her right antenna. She wasn't giving up the floor that easy.

"Furthermore...*Sir*, your Umar-damned right: a part of the galaxy *does* owe me. Let's suppose, for one fucking moment, that you can get off your 'holier-than-thou' trip and comprehend where us plebeian's come from, okay?" she didn't pause for his confirmation. "*You* didn't have your homeworld stripped from you in under three hours," she hissed. "*You* didn't feel the panic and terror and utter horror as bombers emblazoned with the Star Empire's bird-of-prey dropped a gigaton isonuteric bomb on your city..."

Finally, they seemed to be getting to the crux of the issue. The Trill unfolded his arms, paying a great deal of attention now. hopefully, this would be something to finally crack that steel faced of the young Andorian's - something that he dearly needed to happen here, on the ship, and not out there, in the black.

"...*You*..." her voice quivered for a moment, the warrior facade shimmering briefly, like a transporter releasing it's confinement beam. Her voice grew a little softer, huskier as she forced the memories and accompanying tears away. Her eyes softened--just a bit--as her defenses dropped a little.. "You...weren't forced to watch as the Romulan bastards bound women and children, torturing them..." her voice inadvertently choked up.

Her eyelids briefly shut as she forced-back the horrible nightmare of memories: how the soldiers had cruelly murdered the men and had pulled appendages and antennae from the women's bodies and cut into their most sacred parts; how they had taken that which was most precious from the young girls...the screams...the horrible, horrible screams of beings in pure, undefiled agony... Quickly, she again banished the memories to the darkened-corners of her mind. Composing herself, she continued. "And you...you...they didn't...." she couldn't bring herself to say the word...the awful word that described what the Romulan troopers had done to her body, at such a young age. An age when she should have been playing keemprho'k with her friends, getting into petty trouble at school, having her first *crush*; normal things that had been denied her...

~Dammit!~ she cursed her weak flesh as she felt a hot tear roll out of her right eye. Quickly, she brushed it away with her hand, hoping that Rex hadn't noticed...

~ Gods. The poor child.~ came the voice of Baledra, another of Rex's past hosts.

~ I couldn't agree more.~ came Corran's own thoughts. This was the real T'Shani... something he'd suspected for some time. A hurt little girl... determined to let the entire universe hurt with her. Until someone managed to change that. "T'shani.." he began softly, hoping she'd now listen.

~Fuck this...~ The warrior--the shield that kept the real, vulnerable T'Shani hidden and safe from the rest of the galaxy--quickly sprung up around her, again. Wiping the rest of the tears from her cheek, she looked back up to Rex, the deadly coolness returning to her eyes. "And now, the Great Federation wants to call this *disease* our 'Allies'. Very well, Sir. But you can guarantee that I'll be fighting that notion for the rest of my life--*ALWAYS* remembering what their kind are capable of. A fact the Grand Council has obviously forgotten..."

Tish straightened her frame and smoothed her tunic. Snatching the white tunic from the table, she took one last look to Corran. "Oh, and don't worry, Sir. I won't be around much longer to fuck up your little happy-family squadron: As soon as this mission is complete, I will be transferring back to the Marine Corps'--the only real *family* I have left." and with that--without even asking for permission--Tish angrily stalked past a stunned-looking Rex and out of the briefing room...

Lieutenant Rex watched as the blue-skinned pilot stalked out. He knew one thing for sure. T'Shani A'Akledorian was a part of his squadron, and that meant she was now his problem to deal with - for better or for worse. If she did request a transfer after this mission, he'd deny it. He wasn't going to let a talented pilot leave simply because of some personal problems. And if she ended up not being worthy of trust after all... if she cracked out there in the black, well... either she'd be dead, or spending a long time with Starfleet Psychiatric.

One of the three. Time would tell which won out.

“Inside the Mug”

*Back Post Takes place while the Galaxy is docked at Wolf 359*

Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder
Chief Engineer of the Galaxy

& NPC Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe
Engineer from the Klingon Bird of Pray - T’kengra.

Ethan frowned. He didn’t feel right. There was something wrong with him, but it felt right. He could feel the skin on his cheek burn where she had hit him. There were thoughts and images crossing through his head. They didn’t make sense at first, but then it all fit into place. He pushed her shoulders hard. Watching as she fell back on to the soft ground below, he took a step forward. “I don’t think I’m superior to anyone! If anything, I think everyone is above me. What’s my situation compared to some of theirs?” he asked raising his eyebrows, his pitch black eyes still locked on hers. “They’re all fine…” he paused for a moment as a pain sliced through his skull. But he didn’t show it, he just squinted very slightly. “And what are you doing? Looking for a fight? Trying to scare me? You work with Klingons? That’s not going to well is it? And you’re what, dealing? You hurt, just like anyone else, and instead of just having one lousy chat with Dhani over subspace, you just push your feelings and problems aside! So I guess we have something in common after all, accept, if I were in you position, I would have talked to my friends and family. And one day, you’ll wish you had. How long are you going to go on with this? I’m not the only one with the cloak and dagger. Are going to talk to Dhani, or are you just going to wait until K’vol kills you. How will that effect Dhani, how 0will it effect your parents? What happens when it becomes a political issue between the Federation and the Klingon Empire, you’d risk so much, and all for what, your freakin pride?!” he snapped again.

Getting to her feet she pushed him back, although he didn’t budge! “Where do you get off?” she shouted at him, “You think you know everything don’t you? You think you know what’s going on with me and K’vol? Well? Go on tell me.” She demanded.

“He slept with Rohana. You were what, hurt?” he asked, his voice lowering slightly. “Fair enough, you can’t choose who you fall in love with, even if it is a Klingon. But don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging you. But you had to fight back. You couldn’t finish it, you couldn’t deal with it, you couldn’t move on, you had to fight back. Revenge. The lies, the deceit, you were no better than him. Lying to him, to the point that he beat you around. And you let him. And you’ll continue letting him because he now has power over you. And at your next confrontation, even if you stand up to him, it won’t make that much difference, because he still has a piece of you that can never be taken away, that can never be changed, he violated you, beat you up…. And you Let him!”

“I deserved it!” she screamed back at him, punching his chest weekly, “You have no idea what I’ve done. I deserved to have a little respect knocked into me!” Closing her eyes tightly to stifle the tears that were welling up, tears of anger, pain and sorrow, she whispered, “I deserved it.”

“I think you’ve been spending too much time with Klingons. You deserved it?” he repeated. “What could you have possible have done to deserve it?” he asked.

She turned away from him, her hands clenched into fists. She sighed a wavering sigh as she pulled her courage together. “I, I…” she stammered. Not able to put her deceit into words, she looked back up at him, “I’m not a nice person.” She said simply.

“You are what you make yourself. So come on, what did you do that was so bad that you deserved it!?” he asked, his tone quieter.

She gave him a sideways glance as she began to walk through to the edge of the trees. This was a nice program, for an instant she forgot that she was on the Galaxy. The warm sun scented breeze rippled through her hair making the loose strands dance around her face. She stared out across the fields, watching the shadows change as the sun faded in and out from the passing clouds. She didn’t look at Suder as she began, it made it easier to tell, at least she couldn’t see him judge her. But still she would be able to feel his disappointment.

“I told him that I slept with So’han.” She began but she wasn’t sure if she could continue, telling him was difficult because at the same time she was admitting it to her self and that was a big step. So far she had been able to push it aside, almost forgetting about it, or at least trying to. But to actually say it, tell someone, in a way made it real. And she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that.

“Whether you did or not is in material, he slept with someone else, thus, if he’s allowed to do it, why can’t you? But I’m still not getting why you deserved it?”

“Because I lied to him!” she said turning to look at him, “I didn’t sleep with So’han.”

“So why did you tell him that?” he asked plainly.

“Because the truth would have hurt him more. So’han is incapacitated and K’vol wouldn’t touch him in that state, it wouldn’t be honourable.”

“So what’s the truth?” he asked.

“I, Oh geese.” She sighed, “I have been sleeping with someone else. There I said it!” She turned and looked at Suder, “K’vol isn’t just my lover, he is, was, my friend. All throughout our training he was there for me. And even when I went to the Academy, during all my failed romances he was my shoulder to cry on. When I joined the T’kengra and we began working together, we just made sense. I do love him, but lately. I just…” she paused, “I cant justify it, I cant even say that I fell in love with someone else, I didn’t. So you see Ethan I’m not a nice person, I lied about So’han so that K’vol wouldn’t find out who it really was. I’m protecting someone I don’t even love and I’m setting up a good friend for a hard fall. I deserve a hell of a lot more than I got.”

Ethan almost chuckled and shook his head. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to say. “Well,” he started. “You’re not a bad person. You can sleep with someone without having to love them. Sometimes when people do that, they do love them, just don’t realise. Maybe you were looking for a good time, maybe you were just giving into lust, which isn’t always bad, not that I can talk from experience or anything… K’vol slept with someone else, do you think he’s burning inside with the same feelings as you? The same guilt? The same regret?”

“I don’t know that.” She replied, “But my deceit goes a lot deeper than his. I’m not talking about a one night stand with the latest bit of stuff. I’ve been cheating on K’vol for months.” She was surprised at how easy that was to say. Maybe getting the bulk out made it easier to add in the rest. Although she felt a little better at finally telling someone she was beginning to feel dirty, and not in a good way. How could she have got herself into such a mess? And how on earth had she managed to pull one of the oldest and longest friends into it? She truly was a bad person, and not just that she was a bad friend, and a bad sister to boot. Here she was supposed to be helping her Dhani out and she was griping about her own problems, and to top it off she had made the mess in the first place! The only question in her mind at the moment was ‘how’?

“Computer, end program.” Ethan finally ordered not wanting Kala to realise what it was all about.

“Unabl – Unabl – Unabl -...”

After a few seconds of stuttering, the program finally closed.

“Kala. If you’ve been doing it for months, there’s obviously a reason. And the foundation of it is about you and K’vol. If it was love, if it was real, neither of you would have gone to anyone else. You wouldn’t be able to. There was obviously a problem there, even if you couldn’t see it. Perhaps it was your way of getting out of the relationship, who knows. All I know is, you got it out of your system, you had to get it out, vent the steam. You needed it. And that’s what I do.” He explained walking off, looking back at Kala to see if she would follow. He gestured with his arm, trying to get her to come with him. What they both really needed was a drink.

“Over a Bottle of Beer”

*Back Post Takes place while the Galaxy is docked at Wolf 359*

Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder
Chief Engineer of the Galaxy

& NPC Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe
Engineer from the Klingon Bird of Pray - T’kengra.

Her arms were crossed as she stared puzzled at the floor. For the last few minutes, an hour maybe, she had been screaming at him. She had been thinking and telling him what a prick his was and then some, she had wanted to punch his lights out, physically hurt him and somewhere during that exchange she was sure that she had the erg to jump his bones too, but she wasn’t going to dwell on that one. And now here they stood, talking as if nothing had happened. He had managed to drag out of her what was bothering her and she didn’t even like him nor trust him. And now what? They were about to get a drink! How the hell did he do that? She looked at him frowning and huffing, she wasn’t sure how to feel about that one, angry, sad?

Her frown melted away and she began to laugh, walking up past him she belted his arm hard. It was all that was left of her anger. It was her turn to look back at him now as she stood in the corridor, an amused expression danced across her lips. She was still puzzled and confused but it didn’t seem to matter anymore. She waited for him to catch up.

He caught up with her and remained silent. Walking with her, he thought about the explosions and rapid backfires that they had thrown at each other over the last, what twenty minutes, hour…. He wasn’t sure how long they had been talking, but oh did he need a drink, just to fill the empty spot in his stomach.

She wasn’t sure what to make of Ethan, at first, not counting the jerk encounter, she had thought that he was a nice bloke. And then within a space of twenty four hours she had wanted to smack him around till every bone in his body was broken, she had found him arrogant, rude, condescending and she was quite willing to have never spoken to him again. But between her need to always have the last word and her problem of never walking away they had ended up still… civil? Wow, and how and what the hell? She let the silence between them drift, neither feeling uncomfortable with it or awkward. She was, she supposed, still in a state of shock. As Ethans feet lead them in the direction of Ten Forward and the bar, Kalas mouth began to water. She didn’t care if they didn’t speak for the next twenty minutes as long as she got a drink. She needed it!

Ethan leaned over the bar and frowned at the bartender. “Get me a beer, and a Balane.” He demanded in a nice way of course. He was given a beer promptly and Kala was given a glass of Ethan’s best drink. The thick, dark blue liquid. He sipped his beer and looked at Kala. “So, how do you feel? About the situation I mean, you, K’vol, your friend.” He asked between sips.

Kala scanned the room for a dark corner to sit in. She nodded towards the table and lead Ethan to it. She didn’t even contemplate speaking until she had sat down. Combing her hair with her fingers she leaned on her hand, her elbow propped up on the table. After taking a long sip of her drink she sighed, “I really don’t know.” she told him.

“So what are you going to do? You either leave K’vol, leave the other person, leave them both, or carry on with what you’ve been doing and risk getting killed or something.” Ethan was surprised with his own bluntness. “Either way, don’t put yourself down and don’t let anyone kick you down. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Ethan please don’t try and make me feel good about what I have done, or try to paint it any other colour than what it is. It was wrong, I deserve more than a bruised face and a couple of bruised ribs. And either way I lose my friends. Shit Ethan when did I become so stupid?” she asked him, not really expecting an answer, after all they didn’t know each other. But then maybe he could tell her, he had managed to get her right so far.

“You just don’t get it, Kala.” He replied shaking his head slowly, drinking some more beer. “Where’s the line between right and wrong. As I said earlier on, if the love between you and K’vol is real, strong, alive like the fires of hell, then neither of you would have slept with other people, you couldn’t, you wouldn’t be able to, no force in this universe could make you. You love him, yes, as a friend, as a confidant, hell, maybe as a soul mate, but do you ‘Love’ him?” He paused for a moment and continued. “No, because of the previously mentioned reasons. You can’t think that you’re the only one to blame. Why is it all your fault? All right, you slept with someone else, but why, what made you do it, why weren’t you happy enough with K’vol that you had to sleep with someone else?”

She took a moment to look back and take a review, was it a sudden change? She sat there, the cogs turning in her head, “A few months ago I started having these dreams,” she began, “I don’t remember everything that happened in those dreams, but the feelings. They were so strong. I remember K’vol was in them and there was no passion between us, just this cold hatred. And there was this other guy, he was so intense, his eyes were so dark, but when he looked at me, I felt his love for me. I saw it in every expression he gave. It was so amazing. And I realised that that was the kind of love I wanted, and somehow I knew that K’vol would never love me like that, he couldn’t. I don’t ever want to feel the hatred towards him that I felt in my dreams. And I know they were only dreams, but it was, it felt so real. Does it make any sense?” she asked him.

“It does. Perhaps your minds way of telling you that you don’t love him the way that maybe you used to or wanted to. It doesn’t mean it’s wrong.” He explained hoping Kala would continue.

“Yeah, but look at the logical side, I just screwed up three friendships over a dream. And the bloke in it, the love I felt, could be just be in my dreams.” She felt sad now, how could she have let things get so out of hand?

“As I said, maybe it was just the minds way of getting you out of the relationship. Explain this to them. They might understand. If not, well, it’s hard, but there’s millions more people to make friends with. No one likes losing friends, but you’re at a crossroads. It could work out.”

“You really expect me to explain a dream to a bunch of Klingons and hope they what, understand? I really don’t think that that word is in their vocabulary.” She gave him a small smile; it was all she could manage, “I really don’t get how you did this Ethan.” She stated rubbing her temples.

“True, their Klingons, they might not understand. But you’re not Klingon. You’re a Trill, you have dreams, act on them, it’s part of you. They might not get it, but you do, that’s what matters. Some gulf’s can’t be bridged between species.” He drank some more of his beer. “And with regards to your last statement, well, it’s a trade secret.”

“Well Ethan, if you’ve managed to crack me open like a nut and make me spill my insides out, why the hell can’t you do that with Dhani?” She wasn’t sure if bringing up her sisters name was a good thing to do, baring in mind the way he had snapped before, but hopefully he was past that.

Ethan frowned slightly. It was a good question. She had been harsh, snappy and rude earlier, but so had he. For a reason. Did she have a reason? He looked from his glass, slowly upwards until his eyes met Kalas. “Some people are easy, some take a bit of work. Others, like Dhani, need a lot of work. I’m still in the process of “cracking” her.” he explained. “If you think me talking to her, offering her a mental way of dealing and locking her in her quarters is my resources used up, then you really do have a lot to learn about me. She’ll just take a little more time. Time we may not have. That’s why I called you here. She’s died once already, who knows what could happen next?”

“Why don’t you trust her to make it on her own?” she asked, “I really don’t think that she is eager for an encore. And at any rate she is sensible. I know she slipped and it was a big one but she is logical, and you can blame Sark for that,” she gave him a small smile, “and in the end that will win out. She can’t help but revert to logic. It’s a big part of who she is.”

“I fear there’s something more to it.” I know dying is a big thing for some people, but if logic would play as big a part as you say, then why can’t she sleep, why is she behaving erratically? How much time does she have? If it were up to me, I’d give her as much time off as she needs. But she’s a Starfleet officer, people higher up don’t get it, they want people working, if there’s a problem, they want sickbay and freakin Counsellors to sort it out and get that person back up on their feet. She doesn’t want to play that game, I understand that. But something needs to be done…. Argh, I don’t know, I’m just rambling now.” He admitted sipping some more beer.

“Ethan,” Kala asked the pitch of her voice raised slightly as did her eyebrows, “have you actually asked Dhani why she can’t sleep? No, because you didn’t even know that she couldn’t. Have you asked her what she is doing to try and combat the problem? No. She has been working with you for how long now?” she didn’t wait for his reply just carried on with the questioning, “And none of you have noticed that she hasn’t been sleeping, her work hasn’t suffered. So give her some credit would you? From what I can see she has done everything in her power to cure it. By herself at first and then when that didn’t work she went to sick bay about it, and yes that was before she died. Have you asked her what drove her to killing herself? You said it was self inflicted, but you didn’t give me the specifics.” she paused to take a swig of her drink, “Have you actually taken the time out to find out what she thinks about all this? No! Have you asked her why she is behaving erratic! ally? No! Have you asked the counsellors why they aren’t making any headway with her? No! Have you asked the doctors about her medical condition? No, or else you would have known about the insomnia for one. Do you not think that she is frustrated because she isn’t working? Do you think that this incredibly active, self reliant, emotionally stable person is happy being cooped up all day with nothing to do, having everyone around her probing her and prodding her, testing her for everything under the suns, and actually feeling things that she didn’t even know existed? Dhani was brought up with logic, I wasn’t. I understand pain, and how it feels when someone criticises you, verbally abuses you, walks off and sleeps with your man and dumps you. She doesn’t. She hasn’t felt emotion in over ten years Ethan. When you first met her what did you think? Vulcan? Everyone does.” She stopped talking and finally took a breath.

She went up to the bar, leaving Ethan to digest all that she had just said, returning with two bottles of beer in her hand she sat down.

Ethan waited until she was comfortably seated before replying to her barrage of questions. He scratched his nose a little and took a swig from the new bottle of beer. “When first questioned about the problem, she explained how she died. What it was like, better than that, she showed me. Not that I didn’t already know, it was just something that happened. As a result, she trashed my quarters. Part of her Betazoid abilities… unusual for someone only half Betazoid. Clearly, emotions were running high. She refused to reverse the process and just left. That’s how my quarters got trashed. After that I knew there was more to it than just a simple case of dying. After her showing me, I felt a little of something as well. Something I couldn’t describe, yet it was something somewhat, familiar.” He paused and took another swig. “As time went on it became clear that something was distracting her, effecting her, and it wasn’t just the close call with death, it was that some! thing I couldn’t describe. That’s what I wanted to help her with, to help her understand, to help her feel, but was rejected right away. I don’t know if this makes any sense. But surely logic would dictate that when all of her options have failed, perhaps she should seek help from someone who might be able to, someone willing. The Doctors don’t know, the Counsellors can only listen and quote from a book, but perhaps one of the Vulcans or other Betazoids onboard might be able 20to help her?”

Kala looked at him, something in her demeanour changed, “You linked with her?” she asked trying not to sound too demanding or concerned.

“Not by choice.” He replied quickly.

“What, you’re telling me that she just did it? How?”

“Who knows?” he replied. He then thought about it. It was some time ago now. “She was describing what happened, she then stood up and just seemed to be in a trance of some kind. I approached her to find out what was going on and she touched me, pulling me into whatever world she was in. A reconstruction of what happened when she died. That’s how it happened.”

Kala leaned back in her chair, “Interesting.” She murmured, ~ She usually connects with guys on a physical bases, sex or kissing and the like ~ She thought to herself. Her momentary bought of caution and worry dissipated. She wasn’t quite sure why every time she heard about her sister linking on a telepathic level with another that she got overly worried. Although she did have this vague memory of being thrown across a room… she shook her head to shake the memory off.

“Dhani only links minds with people that she’s close to, and I don’t mean sister close.” She gave Ethan a slightly long look to emphasise her words, hoping that he would hear the things she didn’t say as well as what she did, “And she has had a lot of mental training which might explain why she can do things that the average Betazoid can’t” she added.

“That much I figured out on my own.” Ethan replied suddenly feeling defensive. “But before you go all wondering and thoughtful, we’re not close. Never have been!” he almost snapped, angry at himself. “We’ve never done anything but be professional, in the work place! I’m not close to her, I have no feelings for her, I don’t want any!”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Kala said, her hands raised in the air; a retreat gesture, “I didn’t mean anything by it, just telling you how it is with her. And you should feel lucky, she doesn’t just open up like that to everyone. She only had one boyfriend at the Academy.” She looked at him for a few seconds, “And all this time you’ve been telling me that she doesn’t trust you. She must have to do that. You’re one step closer than I am.”

“Or perhaps it was a mistake.” Ethan said, frowning. “Maybe she didn’t mean to do it, it just happened.” He picked up the bottle of beer and took a long, slow swig from it and then just as slowly, placed it back on the table.

Kala watched him for a moment. He was really defensive about Dhani, maybe there was something between them. She let the thought mull over in her head for a few seconds. And then returned to the topic at hand, “You should take some time out to get to know her, it’s the only way that you can even begin to understand her. And all the questions you have been asking. You’re asking the wrong Eshe. You need to ask her. You need to tell her all the things you’ve told me.”

“Perhaps.” He said plainly. He continued looking at the table. What she was proposing was suicide. He would never get close with anyone other than the good friends he already had. He didn’t want to. And there was a god reason for it.

“But before you do Ethan. I strongly suggest you ask your self why you feel so strongly about this. And we both know it goes deeper than ‘she’s just part of you team’.” She stood up slowly and without another word she walked to the door where K’vol lingered. Looking up at him she smiled and slipped her arm around his waist, “K’vol, we need to talk……..” was the last thing Ethan heard her say as she walked out of Ten Forward.

He turned back to his drink and half smiled. “Don’t need to ask myself…” he replied in a whisper as if she were still there, “I already know the answer.” He finished his drink and removed himself from the table. He tugged down on his duty jacket before leaving Ten Forward.

“Letters to my psyche, Part One”

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer.

*** Location; Deck 4 Crew Quarters***

Dhani sat on her couch looking out into the vastness of space, a blue hue surrounding her. She had found the colour to be calming, and so had changed the filters in her quarters. The day had been a long one. She had nothing to do. Most of her first month of inactive duty had been spent in the holodeck, subsequently she had run out of holo credits. Her stomps around the ship had become unnecessary, she had finally pieced the flash backs together, and so further exploration of the ship was no longer required. So here she sat, alone.

She had thought about trashing her quarters just so that she had something to fix, but the whim had come and gone in a second or two. Mainly because if anyone had found her she would spend the next three months undergoing physic evaluation, though it did feel like the counsellor was already doing that, but she could at any time just walk out of her office, which she already had done on several occasions.

She paused from her staring to look around her quarters. The blue hue reflected off the cargo crates that still sat unpacked in the corner of the room. Shifting Salem off her lap she wondered across the room. Kneeling down she opened the crate and looked inside. Several different items of clothing lay on top of a large wooden box. Brushing them aside she pulled the box out. Walking over to the table she set it down, and began rummaging around in her desk for the key to the box. After a few minutes she had the key. Taking the box to the middle of her living space she sat down on the floor and opened it.

A beautifully bounded leather book was the first thing she removed. Affectionately her hands traced over the cover, she let out a saddened sigh as she held the book to her chest. She had never read what was written in the book, she couldn’t. It was Chang’s diary and even though he had, left, in a manner of speaking, still she couldn’t read the things he had written.

A beam of light crossed her vision; something twinkled from within the box. She delved her hand inside and picked out the offending object. Opening her hand she looked down at the ring that now sparkled in the blue light. It was made with white gold the gem in its centre emanated every colour in the spectrum. It was a beautiful engagement ring. A tear slipped down her cheek.

Hugging the book and the ring close to her chest she rocked slightly back and forth on the floor, one tear after the other rolled down her cheeks.

Since she was a child she had listened to the words of her mentor. She had aspired to be everything that he wanted her to be; a Vulcan. She had controlled her emotions with ease. She had never showed anger or pain. But now, here, something had changed. She felt pain and anger and everything else that went with it. Since the incident at Qunitn she had felt more conflicting emotions than ever before. And now for some reason old wounds that she thought had healed returned to kick her when she was at her lowest.

The pain of losing Chang, watching him die. Her lover, the one she was to spend the rest of her life with. The only man that had asked her to ………., the only man she had ever been with. She thought the worst was over when he left her that morning years ago. But to see him die too. That was a blow she was not prepared for. And that kiss, the last kiss. As the walls around them crumbled she showed him emotion one last time. But what followed was the biggest blow. The information that passed between them in that moment of passion. She learned more about him in those few minutes than she ever had during the last four years. His decisions did not sit well with her, but they were no longer together, she had no say. He had made sure of that.

But those events had happened years ago. She had shed no tear then, she had kept to her Vulcan training. Showed no emotion, hell she didn’t even attend his funeral, although she had watched from a distance, seen his latest conquest wail by his grave side. So why now did she feel the pain of losing him, the pain from the betrayal that had transpired during that last kiss. The pain of being abandoned by Starfleet, of living alone for years and living a lie for twenty odd years with Turan.

Such pain. How could she recover, how could she return to her work? How could she survive?

She began to cry harder, at some point she knew this emotion would turn and she would be angry with him, and sitting here fuming would not help, she would lash out. Like a Klingon in a fury she would find a target and not stop until she destroyed it. But still she cried, like a whimpering child, oh how she despised her self. What scorn her mentor would look upon her with. Although he would show it, but still she knew that he would feel it, he would judge her, she was week.

~This can’t go on.~ she told her self, ~I have to find a way out of this, I need help.~

~There is no one to help you ~ a voice from within her told her, ~haven’t you learnt that by now? You are alone, always alone. The only person you can turn to is yourself.~

~I cant do this alone.~ she shouted back, ~I need help. I don’t know how to do this alone. I’ve tried everything that I know. Who can I turn to?~

~Exactly, Dhani. Who can you turn to? Is there anyone you can think of? Is there anyone that you haven’t already gone to? Suder, the Chief who wants to be your friend. All he wants to do is get inside your head. Jiiles, what does he know? What can he do to help you? Ella Grey, well she’s more screwed than you are. Michael, he doesn’t understand you. The Captain thinks your nuts, the counsellor is trying bless her. Curran, well he knows that you are week. I could go on with everyone on the ship but …. I think you get my point. In the end Dhanishta there is only one person that you can turn to… and that person is yourself. Only you can pick your self up. So what are you going to do Dhanishta Eshe? Lie there and cry for the rest of your life? Dhanishta you do not deserve that mark branded into your shoulder. You do not deserve the respect of your Klingon Houses. You do not deserve the training and the years that Sark gave to you.~ her inner voice began to sho! ut, ~You are week Dhanishta Eshe. Pick your self up off the floor and be the woman that you were, the woman that is still inside you; the worrier that the Klingons accepted into their House, the student that surpassed her Vulcan teacher, the Trill that was accepted to become a host, the outstanding engineer that graduated Starfleet, the officer that was promoted to a Lieutenant. You managed to do and to and be all that, you will find a way but first you have to GET UP!~

Slowly she rose to her feet, dropping the book and the ring to the floor. She went to her desk and sat down. She had to find a way. Opening the draw she pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. She had to say good bye to her demons, once and for all.

January 30th 2381. *This One is for Chang*

I’m sitting here alone in my quarters; I forget how long it was since I last saw you, since I last held you, since our lips last touched.

Five years, seven months, four days thirteen hours, fifteen minutes and ten seconds.

That time of year is here again, and no I’m not talking about festivals, the New Year etc. I’m twenty eight years old today. You know not even Kerenza or Tanson sent me a message. Kala and I exchanged the usual Birthday moan when she came to visit a few weeks ago. But still I sit here alone. I remember how you would surprise me in the morning with red roses, until you found out by some mysterious dickey bird that my favourite flowers were orchids. You would unlock the doors to my room and sneak your way inside, I would awake to find you watching over me orchids tickling my face. Incurable romantic!

Do you remember the times we sat and talked about the future, where we would be in five years time? I do.

I remember the day you left me too, the day I let you walk away. I remember the last things you said to me. How I aspired to be something that I wasn’t, you wanted me to embrace who and what I was. You couldn’t stand the fact that I expressed my self through love, and you wanted me to be able to express my self all the time. You left me because I wasn’t emotional enough, I was icy. You couldn’t handle that could you? You had to be the strong one, physically, mentally and emotionally. And you weren’t on all three accounts.

I still remember your betrayal. And no, not to me. Your betrayal to Starfleet. You know I suppose that I should have told someone, told them about your decision to betray your oath to Starfleet. But I didn’t. Who would believe that you had joined a rogue organisation, bent on preserving the Federation and what it stands for, at all costs? Yeah, Chang, I know. But they all saw you die, didn’t they.

Except me. I know the truth, yet I can’t share it with anyone. I can’t take the risk of letting anyone in for fear that they will find out your, our, little secret. I reject help because of a miss guided loyalty to you. So here I am alone, I don’t need to wonder why any more. I am alone and always will be.

Well you know what Chang? I tried the emotional way, and killed myself in the process! I’m not an emotional person Chang. I am what I am. I didn’t get here by crying over spilt milk. I didn’t get here by taking insult to every criticism. I got here by being the woman you rejected.

You know I thought for a long time that that was the reason you left me. The real reason was something else wasn’t it. You left me for them for the organisation that recruited you. You didn’t really love me did you? All you cared about was you career, one that would keep you in the shadows. No one will ever know about your heroism. That’s what you wanted, and that’s just what you got. You’re dead to your family and friends. But not to me.

I didn’t realise just how much your rejection hurt me until now. Suder told me one day that I reminded him of a Vulcan. It cut deep. I gave in to the emotion. It pained me to hear that sentence, seeing as it was the reason you left me. But it wasn’t and I understand that now. Just to set the record straight, I did love you Chang. And part of me always will, forever.

I still think of you from time to time. I found the engagement ring you gave me today, it is beautiful. I still don’t understand why you left. Could a cause be so important that you would leave me for it? Was I such an awful person? Was our love not strong enough?

I can’t continue with this pain in my heart, I have to move on. But knowing that you are still alive somewhere, out there. It is difficult to forget you.

Today you die, in my mind and in my heart. You must, for I can not again.

The pen fell from her fingers as she stared at the piece of paper. Sighing she returned to the couch. Looking out to the stars, those same stars that she had found such comfort in not so long ago. Those stars had surrounded her made her feel safe and secure. She had felt such peace there, so at home. But now she felt nothing from them, no comfort, no love, nothing. She pawed at the window.

“I don’t know how to let you go Chang.” She whispered to the galaxy beyond the window, “I don’t even know where to start. When I close my eyes I can still see your face, your beautiful eyes looking down into the depths of my soul.” Her voice wavered as she choked back her tears, “I loved you more than words can say.” She whispered. “If you were dead, buried and truly gone, maybe I could move on. But I know that your not. I need to say good bye to you but how can I when you’re not gone? Why couldn’t you have died? Why did I have to kiss you one last time? Why did….?”

She looked at her reflection, her own face staring back at her. She could see her own eyes, cold and dead.

“I have to find a way, I must.” She told her self.

As Salem climbed into her lap she leaned back into the chair and began to tickle his head. As he nuzzled her hand she leaned down and kissed him.

“I still have you hey, Salem.”

"Born to Fly"

by
Lt. Corran "Spots" Rex
Vanguard CO, Vanguard One

& Flight Officer Jasmine "Jazz" Heloi
Vanguard XO, Vanguard Five

------

Location: USS Galaxy Fighter Bay Observation Room

Corran was still standing with his arms folded as he overlooked the fighter bay from the Observation Room. The techs seemed to be down to the last fighter, now - it wouldn't be long before they were ready to launch. He'd sent Jazz off to get all the pilots ready - here she came now. "Everyone ready to fly?" he asked his new exec.

Jasmine nodded as she once again shoved a finger between her neck and the collar and tugged slightly, "Yeah. I had to hunt down Kettch, but everyone else is ready and willing to fly." The former vid star had spent the past fifteen minutes hunting down the rest of the squadron, only Kettch had proved difficult to find. Everyone else had been hovering around or near the fighter bay. They had heard about the possibility of launch already - after all, the only thing faster than warp on a starship was news.

"Where'd the little fuzzball run off to this time?" the Trill asked, eyebrow raised. For a being that looked insomuch like a small, fuzzy human teddy bear, the good Lieutenant always did manage to get into something.. interesting.

"He found himself a nice little hidey-hole in one of the trees in the arboretum. If I hadn't heard from Ensign Fitzpatrick that he had seen Kettch go in but never come out, I'd never of found him. He wasn't carrying his comm badge - he said it was because he wanted to commune with nature or something like that," Jasmine replied with a small smirk. If she thought about it, it was rather funny.

"I exhibit no surprise." Corran replied. "T'Shani give you any shit when you told her to prep for flight time?"

"Not vocally," Heloi replied with a wince. She still had a bit of a headache from the pounding of emotions from the Andoriian. She would have to start taking pain inhibitors if this type of thing kept up.

"Good." Rex replied. He'd still not told the red-headed betazoid about what happened in the room after she'd left him and the Andoriian there. He wasn't sure yet that he would. Best to leave those troubles only on his own shoulders for now.

"Lieutenant." came the voice of the sergeant from the bay below over the comm. "Last fighters ready. You're all good to go."

"Thank you, Sergeant." he said, and closed the comm. Picking up his helmet from the shelf in front of him, Rex pulled on the gloves for his flight suit with the helmet tucked under his arm. "Ready to fly, Jazz?"

She grabbed her own helmet - having already pulled on the gloves - and grinned, "I was born ready to fly, Spots."

"Heh. Join the club." The pair of them stepped over to the open-air lift that went down to the flight deck, and Rex noted the rest of the Vanguard pilots already standing in a group near the fighters. Speaking loud enough to be heard over the noise of the bay, Corran addressed them all.

"Alright everybody, listen up. This is a search run through an asteroid belt, so I want you to have your deflectors set to maximum. Target's one of ours, the U.S.S. Pallas Athena. She's an Excelsior-II class ship, so she ought to be big enough even for you blind youngsters. When we get out there, you'll break by flights first. Flight Leaders have the search routs already programmed into navigation. When you get to your search zones, break by wings. You clear one part of the grid, move on to the next."

Corran looked around as he finished talking. "Everybody clear?" Once they'd all nodded or given some kind of affirmation, he spoke again. "Well, what the hell are you all still doing here? Let's get out there and fly already." he said with a wide grin.

Jasmine shot Corran an echoing grin before she headed towards her fighter with Tyten in tow. "I'll see you out there, Blue." She winked at her wingmate as she climbed into her newly modified fighter. This was, like she had told Corran, what she had been born to do.

"Devotion to Duty" - Part Two

By Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer

Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian
Acting Chief Tactical Officer

Appearances by:

Lieutenant Commander James Lionel Corgan
Chief Security Officer

Saladin Bolivar,
Chief Intelligence Officer

Ahdjiia D'Tinya,
Security Officer

*****

Deck 8
Stardrive Section
Intelligence Offices
USS Galaxy

******

The initial shock Savar felt, like being stabbed in the stomach with a lance of ice, was immense, and his head rocked backwards as though it had been physically struck. This ship was intercepting and decoding Rihannsu transmissions that must, absolutely must, be encrypted. Not only were they able to trace the signal, but extract every word! Only the greatest self-control could restrict his face flushing the colour of olives, as the sudden trepidation seized him that his communications home could also have been monitored. He had taken the shuttle far out into space each time - but how had they acquired this? A communication between two of the ruling elite of ch'Rihan and the Stellar Empire!

He was suddenly aware of Curran watching him with hawkish eyes, ringed red as though from exhaustion, and so bent his head once more to the console. His mind hurried to recover as he forced himself to read on. Omar was arrogant to the point of crass stupidity - he must have made some error, some mistake, forgotten to encrypt the transmission properly. Something. It could not be true that the Federation were able to intercept all Rihannsu communications.

He made himself read onwards. Whilst clearly a disgrace, the very existence of the transcript was also a terrible danger to Ambassador Omar, and this cheered the Sub-Commander significantly. He smirked at the mistranslation of 'Daise'Sael'Riov' to 'Colonel', and was gratified by the words of Riov Omar which confirmed what he had heard about political instability on ch'Rihan. Savar's face began to fall as Omar spat out dire insults about him, and to darken like grapes of wrath as the gloating Tal Shiar officer, who had bought his commission as he had bought his seat on the Senate floor, gloated about the murder of Senators sympathetic to his own views.

"Fvah?" tr'Khellian raged, his eyes flashing with anger, his fists involuntarily clenched. Could it be true? Had the Tal Shiar 'brutally disposed of' Senators simply for desiring peaceful consolidation instead of more conquest and bloodshed? Vellen had warned that the Tal Shiar was strengthening - but to the extent of murdering Senators? No - this could never be. Tal Shiar could make ordinary citizens quake and tremble, and plead for their lives, but the lives of the Tal Shiar themselves were made, and broken, on the floor of the Senate and by the hand of the Praetor. Vellen would have mentioned the death of any Senator. Surely. This had to be a lie - but why make it?

'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...'

Savar's jaw dropped at this absolute outrage, this slur against him, this 'plot' to kill him! "Ryak'na!" he barked, slamming the glass-topped table with the flat of his hand. He sprang to his feet, spearing the Kelvan officer with a glare from his fiery eyes. "Where did you acquire this?" he demanded.

"We intercepted this transmission between Senator Omar and his father. Unfortunately we were only able to obtain a textual transcript," he explained.

"Ryak'na," tr'Khellian snapped, contemptuously, again repeating the highly offensive Rihannsu word for waste material. "You expect me to believe this? It could only have been drafted by a man who knows nothing of the Rihana." He shook his head, his upper lip curling. "Really, Legate, if you wanted my assistance, you could have asked for it without this foolish pretence!"

The Kelvan surveyed the scene intently. Keeping silent, he hoped something would slip through Savar's resolute exterior to shed more light on the situation.

Ahdjiia kept silent, watching both door and screen. The fact that Savar was outraged just furthered her opinion that Omar was as the humans called it, a dumbass. "Sub-Commander," she said softly, "Considering what we have on record of the Ambassador's actions, is it not so far fetched that there is an assassin coming on board who will be at his beck and call so to speak?"

Saladin nodded, "And we know this now, we know his plans, both his plans and the agent's gender. It will not be hard to narrow down female Romulans coming on to the Galaxy..." His mind continued to whirl, "Though why does the ambassador want you handled..."

"This is absurd," Savar snapped dismissively. "No matter how powerful the Tal Shiar have become, they cannot simply 'brutally dispose' of Senators." He gestured angrily towards the screen with Curran's transcript still displayed on it. "These are just words on a screen. You cannot expect me to believe these lies. I will not submit to this trickery." What was the purpose of all this? Greedy and arrogant as the Omar clan undoubtedly was, they were not wholly stupid, and if Daise'Sael'Riov Omar's communique could be intercepted thus, his position with the Tal Shiar would come to an abrupt and painful end. None of this made any sense, unless they were trying to set him against Ambassador Omar, on the absurd idea that the Tal Shiar were sending someone aboard to assassinate him. His furious eyes fixed on Major Bolivar and his last words seemed to echo in the Rihana's mind. Why *would* Omar want him dead? Did these Starfleet men think he was so vulgar that, his ego flattered by his own political dangerousness, he would believe himself a likely target for assassination? If they did, they were wrong. His contact with fellow Rihannsu was minimal, and he was certainly not ringleading some sort of inner rebellion, no matter what anyone thought.

And yet, there was something he knew about Omar, which no one else knew he knew, which was very dangerous indeed. The Ambassador was a Vulcanophile, possibly even a reunificationist. Was Daise'Sael'Riov Omar also a sympathiser with Spock's cause? Was this motive enough to have him killed? A seed of doubt began to germinate in tr'Khellian's whirring mind.

The Liaison Officer saw the rings of fire lick at Savar's irises. Deep behind them, there was an inert knowledge of something beyond a simple flurry of words on the screen. The Rihannsu lived with subterfuge every moment of their lives, and Savar more so than others. He'd been banished from his homeworld for reasons of his own. Why would the Rihannsu government risk open war with the Federation again over this one Romulan? Surely the Exchange Officer and Ambassador were not important enough to destroy the treaty, were they?

Pilot Tyten
Vanguard 5

"Anticipation"

As Jasmine winked at him, Tyten felt a small twinge of excitement in his stomach. He had to admit that the woman was very good looking and, to be quite honest, it wasn't everyday that that good looking of a woman winked at him. Though the gesture was nothing more than a friendly wink, it put a smile on his face. He already had a good feeling about this sortie.

Climbing in his fighter, he began strapping himself in. He liked the new uniforms. The white went perfectly with his beautiful blue skin, well, much better than the red had before. If he had one complaint about the decision handed down from on high it was his rank title. Mentally shrugging the thought off for the moment, he had decided earlier that he would just have to try that much harder to make that next promotion.

He quickly glanced over his instrumentation and cycled through his preflight. The engineers on the Galaxy knew their stuff when it came to the fighters. That, in it of itself, was reassuring to any pilot.

His panels read green across the board. "Jazz, this is Blue. I'm running hot and ready when you are."

"Devotion to Duty" - Part Three

By Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer

Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian
Acting Chief Tactical Officer

Lieutenant Commander James Lionel Corgan
Chief Security Officer

Appearances by:

Saladin Bolivar,
Chief Intelligence Officer

Ahdjiia D'Tinya,
Security Officer

*****
Deck 8,
Stardrive Section
Intelligence Offices
USS Galaxy
******

"Sub-Commander, we are not here to deceive you. If that were true, do you not think we would stoop to more complicated levels of deception? You are our Chief Tactical Officer now, Sub-Commander; you hold the fate of this ship in your hands if you are at the station. To insult you would only plant doubt in all of us. Don't think you or Omar are either important enough for us to risk lives over at any given time." Kylar paused, and took a moment to compose his words to deliver a careful melody tasteful to the Romulan's interests.

Savar watched the Kelvan from beneath his darkened brow. The mention of his temporary promotion did nothing to flatter the Rihana's ego, if that had been what the Legate intended. He was not about to reveal knowledge of Henderson's failsafes, and Curran would not know of them. But he remained to be persuaded.

"I elected to bring you into this meeting for assistance, Sub-Commander. As much as the politics of the Rihannsu Senate disinterests me if it has no bearing on the Federation, I *am* responsible for shipboard law on this vessel. You fall under my jurisdiction while on this ship, and the diplomacy your and Omar's presence on this ship entails is as much my responsibility. You can either choose to believe it or not, but in either event, this is a problem that needs to be resolved. With or without you, if need be."

"Look." James found the opportunity to add his two cents, with a note of true concern, "If you want, I can have my department keep a watch on you twenty-four seven. We can have stakeout units near your quarters, keep a watch on this assassin, do anything we need to make sure this new arrival doesn't go through with her mission. I already told Bolivar that we have a team keeping tabs on the current representative and his retinue due to incident involving Omar and his staff versus our crew, including my security staff. Just give me the word, and I'll have you well protected."

Tr'Khellian eyed the Security Chief, who had been so withdrawn throughout, as if nursing his own deep melancholy. Savar had had few dealings with Corgan, who was a workmanlike and taciturn officer who seemed to simply get the job done. He was well-respected, and apparently genuine in his desire to protect everyone onboard. Savar felt himself being swayed: he had nothing to lose from believing this story, however fantastic it was, but perhaps something to lose if he did not. He owed Omar nothing. And this offer of protection would make no difference to his dealings with them all, from his perspective.

"What exactly do you propose, Lieutenant Commander?" tr'Khellian asked Corgan.

"Well, as much as I want to be covert about it, the Tal'Shiar has us outmatched in that respect. I already warned Intelligence about this. If she wants to avoid us, she can. However, we will do our best, and we may even surprise her with a few tricks of our own."

"This is acceptable to me, to a degree." The Legate wasted no time on any expressions the Security Officer may deliver at the underhanded insult. Commander Corgan's Security forces may be adequate for sentry duties, but I hardly believe they could handle a Tal Shi'ar agent intent on removing Savar from this plane of existence."

"My question to you Savar, is this. Why is Ambassador Omar's father intent on removing you? And why risk the Treaty of Galvanis over it? What is the status of the Tal Shiar at present? Do they have the capabilities again since their defeat at Cardassia?"

Tr'Khellian shifted in his seat and eyed the Legate warily. If the point of all this was to extract detailed information about domestic Romulan conditions, he would be disappointed. "I do not know the reason for all this. It seems absurd. This is why I reacted with.. incredulity," Savar explained. He paused. "It can be no secret that the Reman Rebellion and the destruction of much of the Senate by Shinzon shook the Stellar Empire to its core. The reaction has been similar to what I understand to have occurred when parasites took control of senior officials in your government, or when Changelings were discovered to have replaced senior military and civilian leaders prior to the Dominion Wars." He gestured subtly, including all present: the Legate who represented central authority and power, and the age-old suspicion of the autonomy of ships' captains; the security chief; the ever-watchful eyes of the genetically-enhanced Chief Intelligence Officer. "Central control has increased."

"To the extent suggested in this communication?" Bolivar prompted.

"No," Savar stated, firmly. "Again, a reason for my suspicion." His eyes snapped back to the Legate's, and he noticed again how weary the Kelvan looked. "I do not have access to a great deal of information about internal Rihannsu affairs, but I am almost certain that the implied murder of Senators is false. The Tal Shiar are not that powerful. I pray to the Elements that they never are," he remarked, in a grave tone.

"Are you involved in a pacifist movement, Sub-Commander?" Curran demanded, icily.

"I am not," Savar snapped, scowling, "and I have never been." He sat back in his chair, and sighed, then shook his head. They might as well know. "The reason I am here," he said, looking around at the assembled officers, "is that I called for an end to the relentless expansion of the Rihannsu Stellar Empire. I argued that our lust for new territory was blinding us to the very real problems in our existing realms, and that they should be our proper focus." He glanced down at his hands, which lay, interlaced, in his lap. "Such sentiments were politically unacceptable when spoken openly in the Senate."

"I have a suggestion." Corgan added, "Perhaps I ought to put the pressure on Omar. Check and see if he has followed our 'requests' about his guard's Disruptors or that force-field on his quarters. A shouting match with him rattled him before, maybe he needs it again. At least, it could distract him."

"He does seem quite.. excitable.. from the security tapes that I have seen," Ahdjiia said. "That could work quite well to our advantage."

"Or shut him down completely." Curran turned to Savar. "Are you willing to assist now, Sub-Commander? What would a Rihannsu officer do in this situation? Killing and heavy-handed interrogation methods aside, of course."

"Geez, go ahead and alarm the Ambassador, why don't we?" Corgan noted.

Tr'Khellian turned his head slowly to regard the Kelvan with the contempt such a statement deserved. "You reveal again that despite your residence on ch'Rihan you know little of how the Rihana operate, Legate," he chided Curran. That said, he turned back to Corgan, who was rapidly emerging from this discussion as the most amenable and capable officer present.

"There is no way to prevent this woman from arriving onboard the Galaxy," Savar said. "She will come equipped with diplomatic papers and you cannot legally refuse her boarding permission. If you attempt to destroy her shuttle before she arrives, a major diplomatic incident will occur. So, she is aboard." He leaned forwards, his hands clasped together on the table top. "You cannot arrest her, because of diplomatic immunity. You cannot even search her baggage for weapons or other equipment. So, she may well be armed." He cocked his head and glanced around. "The only way to stop matters getting to that stage is to remove Ambassador Omar from the Galaxy. I doubt, Legate, that you can do that," he said, glancing at the Kelvan. "So, what you face, Lieutenant Commander, is a fully-armed Tal Shiar trained assassin arriving onboard in less than five days."

"I'm quite aware of that." James nervously fingered his comm.-badge, "We Starfleet aren't known for using bullyboy tactics to solve our problems, and I don't want to start by booting her ass off no matter how safe it will make us feel. It'll just cause more trouble."

Savar eyed Corgan and let this pragmatic assessment sink in. "The serpent is going to strike. What we must do is suck the poison out."

"A trap, you mean?" Corgan switched his demeanor to intrigued.

Tr'Khellian nodded once. "We must draw her out. Allow her to strike and reveal her true colours. But," he paused, and let his eyes bore into Corgan, "I hope for my sake, and for the sake of the Treaty of Galvanis, that your people will be waiting."

Content Advisory: It's not graphic, but there is some adult content here folks, be warned.

"No Game for Knights"

Principal Characters:

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff

Flight Officer Angelienia

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 7
Victor Krieghoff's Quarters

Victor knew as soon as the door closed behind him.

His sense of smell wasn't superior to the rest of the human race; despite what he'd heard whispered in the past, he'd had no canine genes spliced into his genetic code as a child. In a way, that would have been easier - at least he'd know why he was different then. No, the difference between his sense of smell and the rest of humanity's was simpler: he used it.

Most people walked through life with their senses shrouded, having never bothered to develop them beyond the limited range needed to get them through the day. But Victor was a hunter in the oldest sense of the word. Since he had been a child, he'd followed game into jungles, swamps, and forests on a hundred worlds with nothing but his own senses to alert him to the presence of danger. That had forced him to push at the boundaries of his senses, to strive to bring in every scrap of information they could gather, until they were as finely-honed as a human's could be - and inhumanly acute compared to the nearly sense-dead sheep he had chosen to stand guard over.

Acute enough to smell the scent the intruder in his rooms had left on the air when they entered. Acute enough to identify it and the individual it belonged to. Acute enough, even, to detect the slight hint of fear that rode the scent like a passenger and know it for what it was.

Idly, Victor wondered who had surrendered the code to his door, and whether they thought this was supposed to be a joke. It wasn't of course, he'd been hunted by things as often as he'd hunted them in return, and he knew what it felt like. This was real, serious, and had been since he'd first felt the hunter on his trail months ago.

He crossed the cabin in the dark, feet unerring in their silent tread. There was no need to search, no surprises. There was only one place the hunter would be waiting.

The bedroom door slid open, eagerly.

"Flight Officer." Victor's voice was flat and even despite the simmer of anger that was building inside him. This was his place, and she had no business here. No one did, except him.

"Victor." Her voice was a purr, throaty and inviting, from his bed. Her thick blonde hair spilled out on his pillows like a mane and her green cat's eyes reflected the light from the ship's running lights that illuminated the room and showed that she was completely under the covers except for her head.

"Out."

"Oh, yes" she smiled. "But I think *in* is ever so much more fun... don't you?"

Victor blinked once. "Out," he repeated again.

"In," she nodded, her smile a promise. "That's how it works; in, out, in, out..." Her voice dipped, now huskier, almost a purr, "Care to put the theory into practice?"

Victor frowned, the simmer inside him warming a bit. "How did you get in?"

Angelienia laughed, smiling. "Guess."

The words left his mouth easily. "Applied theory."

Her laugh this time was genuine, throaty. The smile that followed it was also genuine, down the slightly pointed teeth that it exposed. "Why aren't you like this all the time?"

"Like what?"

"Like you are now." A slim hand with pointed nails that Victor knew, somehow, had been sharpened especially for the evening to leave her mark, slipped out from under the covers to point at him. "Funny."

"No one wants to see me smile," Victor observed dispassionately.

"I do."

"No, you don't." He glanced to the side of the bed, by the dresser, where a small bag was laid, a spill of lacy undergarments and other clothing artfully arranged to look like they had accidentally fallen out when it was opened. Her uniform was laid on the dresser casually, dropped in such a way as to make it plain that she wore none of it now.

"Why not?" Angelienia's eyes flashed as her voice dipped again, "Would I be... scared?"

"If you were smart."

She shivered. "Do you have any idea what that little growl in your voice does to me? Any at all?"

Victor didn't reply; there didn't seem to be a point to it.

"You have to know," she continued after a second. "You have to - you've been doing it to me ever since we met. The little thrill it sends through me, the shiver of fear when you're near me..." Her smile was sure. "You know."

Victor started to move towards the bed, but stopped as his foot brushed something on the floor, something soft. A glance down merely confirmed what he'd known the moment he'd entered the cabin and smelled her scent and the story it'd told him - that she was naked.

"What's wrong, Victor?" she looked at him with half-lidded eyes.

"You know what's wrong."

"But it's so much netter to hear you say it - especially with that little growl you have...."

"You shouldn't be here."

She shivered under the covers. "Why not, hmmm? There's no one else you're waiting for, lover. The Gunny is gone, transferred off with Brhode, you've had a falling out with the girl from Engineering, and if there's anyone else, I haven't been able to find them, which means they don't exist. There are no clothes but yours here, not things but yours - aside from that Marine-issue coffee cup I found in the other room, that is."

The simmer grew warmer at the thought of Angelienia's hands on his clothes and possessions, the thought of her touching the cup that was all he had left of his talks with Gunny Goldstein. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Done what?" Angelienia shivered again. "Touched your things? But it's so sexy to do that, to run your fingers over the most private things someone possesses and feel them warm to your touch..." She shifted positions, drawing her knees up slightly, the covers tenting as her hand crept back under the covers and down.

"Would you like to do that to me, lover? Would you?" Her breathing started to change pace slowly. "Would you like to run your fingers across my private things, explore all my secret spaces? Would you like that? Would you?"

"Not as much as you would, apparently."

She laughed breathlessly, the sound ending on a slight gasp. "I can't help it, lover. It's your voice, the way it makes me feel, the way you make those little jokes...." She bit her lip and shifted position again, the covers slipping down a bit. "The feel of your things under my hands, your clothes against my skin...."

Victor blinked slowly. "My clothes?"

"Your clothes," she nodded, eyes bright and fixed on him as the covers trembled.

"You... wore... my clothes?" Victor said slowly, the idea stalled in his mind.

Angelienia smiled, her sharp teeth bared a moment longer than necessary as her back arched for an instant. "Yes..." she panted. "It was... to feel them against my skin, know that they'd been against yours..." She shivered and the covers slipped more, one tan shoulder now visible. "The smell of you, surrounding me..." She shivered again and gasped softly. "I want you to touch me when I'm wearing them, to take me that way, to feel you all around me like that while I'm..."

"While you're wearing my clothes?" he repeated, as the heat in the back of his mind rose and the sound of his pulse began to fill his ears.

"Yes," she half-gasped. "You understand, I knew you would. I knew it would be like this with you, that I couldn't..." her voice choked off in another gasp "...that you'd be... that... that you could do this to me without even touching me...."

"You don't want me to touch you right now." Victor's voice was flat, but the undertones of a growl moved beneath the words.

"No, I..." She shook her head, unable to get the words out for a second, her emerald eyes never leaving him. "You understand; you really do..." she panted. "I never thought that you'd... I need this, need it like this, just looking at you, talking to you... I need to feel your eyes on me when I..." She gasped and trembled for a second, fighting to keep her moment at bay. "I didn't know it would be like this, though, that it would be so..."

She bit her lip again and made a soft, wordless sound that was equal parts longing and determination to deny herself the inevitable. "Did you play games with them too, lover?" she said after a moment, her voice strained and peaking in odd places as she spoke. "With the Gunny and the Mouse?"

"Don't say their names," Victor growled, and took a step forward, the heat in the back of his mind starting to make its way into his voice. "Not now."

Angelienia's smile was pure surprise for a split second before it fell over into a knowing, hungry grin that showed her teeth. She started to speak, lost the words in an intake of breath, and had to gulp a breath of air to say, "I understand, lover. There's no one but me now, they aren't here any more. We don't need their ghosts between us..." She took a short, sharp breath. "We don't need anything between us."

The cover slipped again as her shoulders worked, the curve of one breast now visible. "What... other... games... will we play?' she asked throatily, soft liquid sounds rising from under the covers as she paused. "I know you have... time... saw the roster... two days in-ship... leave. That's why I took... mine now...."

"Games?" Victor's voice rumbled, low and even, like a distant thunderstorm. "You want to play more... games... like this?" One of his hands made a fist in the darkness, and trembled with the rising heat that began to fill him.

"Oh yes!" Her reply rose at the end along with her knees under the covers. She didn't speak for a moment, just made a series of sounds in the back of her throat as she fought off her moment once more - but by a much closer margin this time. "Yes, more games... all of the games... We'll play them all, lover, as much as you want...."

"Get..."

She sucked in a breath and continued, not aware that she'd cut his response off. "I want... ahhh... I want you to... I want the rescue game... though... I want you to... save me... like a knight in shining armor... like you did for her...." Her head started to move from side to side, as if in denial of what was about to happen despite what she'd been doing to bring it about. "But it'll be better... I ahhh... promise... much better... you'll never... ahnn..."

The heat in the back of his mind spilled out, and Victor's lips pulled back in the killing smile that meant Death had entered the room. His sense of presence, until now reined in, exploded out as he growled and took a step forward, hands reaching out for the woman writhing there.

As his presence shoved out and washed over her Angelienia's eyes went wide and she opened her mouth to scream - and then her moment arrived. Her eyes rolled up and her head slammed back into the pillows as she arched like a bow and shook with the fury of it, pent-up wanting and need mixed with the wave of terror that Victor's presence had sent through her to make her convulse again and again, the result so powerful that it was almost as much seizure as release.

The covers were thrown aside, her muscles bunching and releasing with such force that they stood out in relief in one instant and relaxed in the next, only to snap taught again in the following. Victor stopped as her lungs sucked in enough air to finally let her give voice to what she felt, and her scream of completion rose up and went on and on until there was no more air left for her to scream with and she merely stared at the ceiling with sightless eyes and open mouth as the explosion inside her went on for what seemed like an eternity. When it stopped she dropped back to the bed, spent and sweating, lungs dragging in air in great gulps as she shook with the fading echoes.

Victor stood and watched silently, his smile never moving as he waited.

A minute passed, then another, and then her head rolled to the side and her eyes focused on him again. "I... you..." she gasped weakly. "That was..."

"Out." Victor's voice was flat, but the menace that edged it was unmistakable, even in Angelienia's condition.

"W-what? Lover, I..."

His hands caught her under her arms and dragged her up like a doll. "Out," he repeated as her feet slid from the bed and hit the floor with soft thuds.

"Lover?" she whispered as genuine fear flickered to life in her eyes when she saw into his from this range.

"Get. Out." The clipped words were like the clangs of the locks on the gates to Hell being released. "Now."

"But I... you... I can't lover, not yet - not after...that. I need a few... minutes... Then we can... play... a game....""

"This. Is. No. Game," he said, as he half carried, half dragged her across the room to her clothes. He thrust her onto the dresser and leaned in close, eyes holding hers captive. "Even if it was... I'm. No. Knight."

"Lover?" she whispered, shaking.

"Three minutes," Victor snapped out. "Then you land in the corridor, clothes or not."

"No, you can't, not after that, I have to..."

"Two minutes, forty seconds." Victor let go and turned to the door. As he passed through, he added. "You don't want me to have to come back for you."

When the door slid closed behind him he growled angrily and started to pace the room like a caged animal. He passed his desk once, twice, and then stopped and looked at the picture of his parents there and tipped it over, face down. ~ I don't want you to see this, ~ he thought silently. A single step took him to the one of his aunts and a heartbeat later it was likewise on its face.

That done, he started to pace again, as the red-hot anger in his head started to build again as he replayed the image of Angelienia over and over in his thoughts. He would kill her, he would tear her throat out with his teeth, he would...

The door to the bedroom opened.

Victor rounded with a growl and took a single step towards the door, but stopped as Angelienia appeared, mostly dressed, her boots in one hand and her bag dragging on the floor behind her. She wove forward, unsteady, eyes wide and fixed on him, as if seeing him for the first time.

His hands worked once, half reached for her, and then drew back as he stepped aside.

"I..." she whispered, something that might be pleading in her voice. "Please I... I can't..."

"I don't care," Victor said, cold death on the edges of the words. "You can do what you want once you leave." The knowledge that he was leaving, that M'kantu was going to send him away pushed at him, the words that followed driven by that knowledge. "Tell anyone what you want - I won't deny it. Just get out."

She stopped at the door, eyes on him as emotions that Victor didn't understand moved through them. "You... I..."

"Out!" The word left his mouth with more force than he'd meant it to, the impact of it enough to make her flinch and recoil. She nodded once, jerkily, keyed the door, and was gone.

Victor stood and stared at the door for a long time, then moved to the bedroom and looked down at the bed there, the scent of her and what she'd done filling the room and corrupting it as thoroughly as the imprint of her body on the mattress and pillows corrupted them.

With a snarl that was pure rage tinted with just enough regret and longing to make him sick with the knowledge that it was there, he opened the floodgates within him to let the beast there out and retreated inside himself as it smashed and tore the bed to splintered ruins and scattered it around the room.

"The Wind Has No Memory" Part 1 of 2

(Occurs ten days after the events of 'No Game for Knights')

Principal Characters:

Lt. Ella Grey
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 07
Victor Krieghoff's Quarters

Victor wasn't certain what he'd expected from Angelienia after he'd thrown her out of his cabin the week before. Granted he'd told her that she could say whatever she wanted to, do whatever she wanted to, and that he would neither care or contradict her - but the story she'd chosen was not what he'd expected.

In retrospect, perhaps taking two of the days of accumulated vacation leave he'd accrued over the years to simply sit in his cabin and work on remote learning courses might not have been the best idea after that statement.

He'd heard it first from So'ka, who'd been asking Hanley about it when Victor walked up. As he'd reconstructed it, after he'd evicted her from his rooms Angelienia, it seemed, had retreated to a cabin somewhere on the ship besides her own (he doubted that there were any complaints from whomever the current occupant had been) and waited for Victor to finish his 48-hour in-ship leave before reappearing - and claiming that she'd been with Victor for the previous two days, and that their lovemaking had been so powerful that it's shattered his bed.

Victor hadn't commented on it to either Hanley or So'ka, and hadn't made comment when he'd overheard the five or six obviously staged conversations that he'd walked up on in the ensuing days. He had come to a grudging admiration for the way Angelienia had handled the inevitable detractors: she'd used the accidental abandonment of her combadge in his rooms and the replacement of the bed as the linchpins of her evidence, producing copies of the maintenance logs documenting the bed's replacement and the combadge tracking logs that recorded the badge's presence there over the purported 'love fest' to document her story.

At that point, he'd decided that it was just easier to do nothing. The captain was going to transfer him any day now, so there seemed little point in trying to set the record straight. Defending a reputation that he cared nothing about was the height of folly under those circumstances.

What he did care about, though, was making good on his last unkept promise to Grey. He had a fight left to show her, one she'd earned, and she was making it difficult to arrange. He'd tried messaging her PADD, but the messages were never answered, and tried contacting her directly only to discover that she'd locked her combadge out from receiving signals from him. That left talking to her in person - and she was making that difficult too.

He understood why, he'd managed to make her mad enough to end their friendship after all. But she didn't have to be his friend to see this. She just had to stand there and watch it happen. If he explained that clearly enough, surely she'd understand it. A promise was a promise, after all.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 10
Ella Grey's Quarters

Ella frowned as she struggled to get a piece of landing gear attached to her model of the USS Voyager.

She supposed her heart wasn't in it. What she wanted to do was give the Voyager her maiden voyage (ie, tossing it across the room to crash land into the bathroom) and pretend that it was Victor's head.

But she didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

It was hard enough that he was leaving, harder still that she cared and he didn't seem to. They had kissed, KISSED!, and he thought it was the result of some god-damned pheromone.

Cared my ass, Ella scolded herself. You're in love with the big oaf. Must be a short circuit in your brain.

She hadn't answered his messages because she thought it would hurt too much.

But it annoyed her to no end that he had decided to give in to Angelina. It wouldn't mean anything to mess around with Ella but Angelina was okay?!? It also infuriated her that everyone had to keep telling it to her, happy in their own little part to play in the rumor mill.

She hadn't answered his messages because she thought she would hurt him too much.

If she heard about it one more time....

Ella shrugged and threw the ship across the room.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 10
Outside Ella Grey's Quarters

Ella attempted to resurface from her quarters for fresh air. Of course, Victor was there waiting. She really needed to invest in one of those security monitoring devices. She looked at him coldly.

~~Victor.~~ Ella said.

"Grey." She was still mad, he could tell from the way she moved, the inflection in her voice. "I wanted to talk to you for a moment."

~~I'd really love to but I'm meeting Indy.~~ Ella lied smoothly. ~~Perhaps another time.~~

There would be no other time; he could see that in her eyes. "I thought you were stronger than that, Grey," he said quietly.

~~Oh?~~

"I thought you were strong enough now that you didn't need to lie." He looked into her eyes for a moment, as if seeing something deep within them. "Maybe I was wrong."

She gave him what Laura called her society face. ~~Honesty, Victor? You should know by now that I find such things trivial. But if you must know, no, I'm not seeing Indy at the moment. But I don't want nor feel the inclination to waste the time on you. Now, can I do anything else for you?~~

Grey's change in expression didn't fool him. This face was as false as the smile and her earlier words had been. "Talk to me for a minute, Grey, that's all. It doesn't seem too much to ask."

Ella lifted her chin. ~~You push me away only to spend your remaining time with the Wicked Bitch of the West. What does that say about our friendship, Tiger?~~

Victor looked at her for a moment, working through that one. She really thought he'd done that? That he'd spent those two days in bed with Angelienia? She believed what the Flight Officer had said? He hadn't expected that. "It might say something if it were true, Grey." And if they were still friends.

Something like hope flashed across her eyes. ~~Are you saying it's not?~~

"What I told you at the reception in Ten Forward is still true, Grey." If she didn't believe him, then he couldn't change that.

She wanted to believe him so she gave him the benefit of the doubt, even though the thought still made her blood boil. ~~Well then I apologize for accusing you. But it doesn't change the fact that talking will just delay the inevitable. I finally see your point of view, Tiger. Its just too painful to draw it out. ~~ Ella turned to walk away.

"I still owe you something," he told her. "I need to keep that promise."

She turned. ~~You don't owe me anything, Victor.~~

"I owe you a fight, Grey. The one I lost."

~~I don't want to see it.~~

"You don't have to do anything, Grey. Just stand and watch it. You don't even have to speak if you don't want to. But I promised it to you."

She shrugged. ~~People break their promises everyday.~~

Victor's voice was flat and emotionless, the same tones he'd used when she'd first met him. "I don't."

She shrugged again because although she thought about running for the safety of her quarters, she didn't think she'd get away with it. Plus he always seemed to know her codes. ~~Whatever will get you out of my hair.~~

"I have a holosuite reserved now if you have the time, Grey," he asked, and started for the turbolifts when she nodded, keeping in step with her.

If this one broke down, she was going to search Dr. Quick out and hit him repeatedly with her computer PADD.

They were quiet as the turbolift move to its destination. Ella struggled to keep her ultra icy exterior and not ask him how he was doing. It had been too long, she guessed, since she had had to play the society princess. The silence in the turbolift unnerved her, probably because she couldn't control it. ~~How long is this thing?~~

"Not long - shorter than the first one. There's only one opponent, and we're in a relatively confined space."

~~You let yourself get speared in the head or something this time?~~ Ella asked, not having to fake the irritation over his last martyrdom.

He shook his head. "No. I didn't die in this fight."

~~Well, that's something at any rate.~~ Ella replied and started heading for the holosuite once the turbolift had stopped.

Victor keyed the door open and waited until she was inside before he moved to the control panel and slotted in an isolinear chip. He typed in a few commands, the chip lit up as it was accessed, and he turned back to her, walking to the center of the room. "We should be off to the side, here," he said quietly, pointing to a spot on the right wall. The fight doesn't move into that area."

~~All right Tiger, dazzle and impress me.~~

For a moment he just looked at her. "I'm not trying to impress you, Grey."

~~The last time you were supposed to have won and yet you ended up as the human equivalent of a speared fish.~~ She said caustically, using quick gestures. ~~ I'd hate to think this little show is not as entertaining.~~

"I'm not trying to entertain you, either, Grey. That's not the point to this."

She raised an eyebrow. ~~What's easier for you, Victor? That I be nice or a bitch? Does it really matter to you? Either way you're going to show me this and then run away again.~~

Well, he reflected, that was true. This was his last promise to her, after it was fulfilled, there wasn't anything else to keep them together. He could just accept the transfer and move on, the way he always did. "I always leave, Grey," he said quietly, his voice almost machine-like in it's detachment. "It doesn't matter what I want. I'm always left behind."

~~You want some cheese with your whine?~~ Ella asked and then shook her head at his blank expression. ~~Just run the damned program, Tiger.~~

"Computer, run program Krieghoff Vector Gamma Kappa Three."

=/\= Acknowledged. Running program. =/\=

The holosuite blinked out, to be replaced with the darkened confines of a room Ella recognized after a second: the Pulse Phase Cannon Relay Chamber.

"The fight happened earlier this year," Victor explained quietly. "Before the Galaxy's encounter with the Defiant. I'm over there," he pointed to a darkened corner, "waiting."

She tilted her head.

"The killer, Grey. I'm waiting for General Kragg." Victor held up a hand. "Here he comes."

The room went silent again except for the muted hum of the plasma conduits as they held the charge Bhrode had ordered loaded up earlier when facing off against the Thought Admiral's Vor'cha and left suspended to prevent any delay in bringing the cannon up if there was an outbreak of hostilities. A series of clicks and the sound of the heavy duty airlock cycling open preceded the sound of careful footsteps moving up the short ramp and into the main portion of relay control chamber, the dim light shining in for a moment as the airlock was open casting bizarre, threatening shadows. A bulky shape occluded the light, plunging the room back into darkness, as the lock cycled closed behind it again.

Modulating his breathing to lessen any sound, Holo-Victor pressed himself further into the shadows, knowing the sound of the conduits up would conceal any remaining sounds his breathing made. As he did so, the ship's internal sensors, hastily programmed to ignore Victor's presence, picked up a new arrival and started bringing up the console lights and the red emergency lighting used when the cannon was charged.

The shape moved into the main part of the room, pausing for a moment to orient itself since Dr. Quick's redesign of the interior was anything but standard for a Starfleet operations center. After a second, the footsteps continued and the soft sound of an LCARS interface warming up echoed through the room.

Backlit against the panel, the General grunted, his hand moving over the controls, panel after panel starting to spring to dim, glowing life.

"I'm waiting for the radiation shields to go up so no one can beam in to stop him," Victor observed. "I didn't want anyone to interrupt us."

Ella nodded mutely, her eyes fixed to the scene.

The clanks of security latches engaging sounded like hammer blows as Kragg sealed the room an instant later.

Kragg grunted again, another panel winked to muted life, and the hum of the containment field generators starting up sounded from beneath the deck. Holo-Victor inhaled slowly, his mouth open to let the air escape silently. At the controls, Kragg cursed once, pounded his fist into the console, and tried something else when what he was doing appeared to fail. The second try took, and Ella imagined the scene on the Bridge as alarms and klaxons started to sound when the cold-start startup sequence for the PPC's intermix chamber registered.

Like a puppet that didn't know he was being worked by strings, Kragg clicked on the shields at the lowest level needed to block incoming transports, not needing a higher setting for what he planned to do. "Fools!" he spoke for the first time. "Fools to think that Divine blood could be spilled by any but the Divine, that Divine actions could be judged by any but the same! Fools! Monkeys!" He spat the last word, his hands on the interface again, working as he spoke. "Time for the monkeys to scream in terror one last time... what?"

Holo-Victor straightened up and took a single noiseless step forward. "Something wrong, General? The 'Divine,'" he made the word a mocking insult, "computer skills not up to a simple code-lock on the intermix controls?"

Kragg whirled with a snarl, eyes searching the room. "Who?"

"Obviously the 'Divine' memory isn't what it could be either," Holo-Victor observed bitingly. "Maybe the monkey here isn't who you thought it was?"

"You!" Kragg took a step forward. "The smart monkey, the one that..."

"The one that made *you* look like a monkey last night," Holo-Victor affirmed. "And a particularly impotent monkey at that. Did you know that your 'Divine' face turns the most amazing shade of eggplant when you're taking it up the ass from a mere monkey in front of the one of the Living Swords of..."

Ella smiled faintly. ~~You're funny when you're` in this aggressive-goading state.~~ She signed before the general began to yell.

"Raaaaagggghhhhh!!!!!!" Kragg screamed out a basso roar of hatred and charged, boots pounding on the deck.

Holo-Victor dropped an earpiece that Ella recognized as one of the old-style communications officer's models, the clink of it hitting the deck lost in the thunder of Kragg's bellow and the need to slip to the side. His hands reached out to grasp one of the General's outstretched arms and send him flying into the wall with a pull and a slight shove.

Kragg slammed into the wall like a runaway freight train and hung there for a moment before whirling, shaking his head like a groggy bear. "Damned monkey," he growled out, flexing his hands. "I'm going to enjoy making you scream."

"So far," Holo-Victor returned, "You're the one doing all the screaming, Kragg." He made a beckoning gesture, trying to draw the Klingon out to the center of the room where he had more room to maneuver away from the General's ham-sized hands "Or is that the 'Divine' way of acknowledging that you *like* taking up the ass from monkeys? If that's the case, then I think we'll let the Princess' friend, Leo have go at you after I..."

Kragg's scream of rage was deafening as he charged again, this time veering at the last moment so that he got an arm under Victor's grab and crashed a blow into his ribs, as Victor spun him again and redirected the General into a console which shorted out in a spray of sparks at the impact. Nothing broke, but it blow drove the air out of Holo-Victor, robbing him of his ability to continue insulting the General as he staggered back a step and tried to draw in a breath.

Ella found herself in the middle of taking a step forward but then reminded herself that this had already happened. Besides, Victor had lived to tell the tale.

Kragg rebounded from the sparking console and tore a chair free from the deck, turning and swinging it at Victor as though it weighed nothing. The chair cut the air with a whistle, just missing as Holo-Victor threw himself back, then looped around again as Kragg spun completely about with it to keep coming. Holo-Victor dropped under the blow, tried a legsweep that bounced off one of Kragg's stony ankles, lost his balance as his foot hit the discarded and forgotten earpiece, and tried to roll to the side to dodge as the chair came around again.

This time the blow landed with enough force to fold him around the chair, his ribs giving way again with a series of snaps that ran together like a firecracker string going off. Thrown to the side by the impact, Victor slammed into the wall, scrabbled for a second as his feet threatened to go out from under him, then pushed away and stumbled to the left, ribs screaming, as Kragg slammed the chair into the wall where he'd just been, two of the chair's legs breaking off and spinning away from the violence of the strike.

"He broke five ribs there," Victor observed dispassionately from next to Ella. "All of them ones that had been broken earlier when some of the Klingon bodyguards almost beat me to death."

~Wha..~~ Ella's fingers began but her attention was drawn back to the General as he spoke.

"Laugh, monkey!" Kragg bellowed, turning to follow Victor. "Why don't you laugh?" He threw the chair aside and started for Victor again, his tread like the toll of doom on the deck. "Is it no longer funny?"

"Nah," Holo-Victor coughed, left arm tight against his side, as he turned another stumbling step into a lunge forward that carried him towards the center of the room again. "You're still the funniest thing going on the ship, Kragg - even funnier than the little dink that was slipping it to the Princess." He turned to face the Klingon, his right hand coming up defensively. "And the best part is that you're 'Divine' self doesn't get the joke."

"The only joke here is your attempts to stop me," Kragg countered, slowing his approach and starting to circle Victor. "I killed monkeys one at a time until it was boring because no one stopped me - now I get to kill all of them at once, and you still can't stop me."

"See what I mean?" Holo-Victor taunted, "You still don't get it, do you? You still don't understand."

Kragg moved in, and there was a flurry of blows exchanged, Holo-Victor having to take several that he looked to have wished he hadn't in order to land a single good blow to Kragg's right eye, and another to the General's nose. When they both pulled back, it was obvious that Kragg had apparently come out the better on the exchange, despite the rapid swelling at his eye. Ella watched it all, trying to get herself to stop twitching with each hit that descended into Victor's face.

"What is there to understand in your senseless chattering?" The Klingon kept circling, forcing Holo-Victor to turn and protect his injured ribs. "Monkeys have nothing to say."

Holo-Victor took a step back as Kragg lunged forward again at the end of the sentence, the move adding just enough distance to keep the bigger man's hands off of him. Using the moment that Kragg was overreached and off balance, Holo-Victor spun around in a wheeling kick and hammered his heel into the back of his opponent's head, sending Kragg to the floor. "This one does," he got out painfully. "You're just not listening."

The Klingon moved in more warily this time, throwing blows to keep Holo-Victor off balance while he waited for an opening. "Enlighten me, monkey," he rumbled after Victor picked off a right meant to snap his head back.

Holo-Victor sidestepped another right, got his leg up and blocked a low kick, and had to accept a blow to the left shoulder that spun him to the side and sent a tearing wave of pain down his side. "Ungh. Right... you asked for it," he grunted past the pain, shaking his head as if to clear it.

The General took the step in, reacted to the feint that Holo-Victor made with a shuffle like he was about to throw a left kick, then executed a hop-step and whipped his right foot up to strike the side of Kragg's left wrist as the General brought it up to defend himself, the bone snapping with an audible 'pop.'

"I broke his wrist there," Victor noted. "it really didn't slow him down as much as I would have liked. Remember that if you ever have to fight a Klingon."

I don't ever plan to, Tiger, she thought. But thanks.

Kragg winced, retreated a step, and experimentally tried to work the hand.

"You see, Kragg," Holo-Victor rasped out as they started to circle again. "The reason that you can't get the joke is that you're too close to it."

"That's why you can't see what's right in front of you, can't see - ungh - why I knew you'd be here," Holo-Victor took a blow on his forearm and kicked Kragg in the kneecap.

Ignoring the kick, Kragg moved in for another exchange of blows that appeared to wear Holo-Victor down some more as more of them got through this time. "What am I too close to?" he laughed. "Your death? I might find that amusing monkey, but I doubt you will."

Blinking at the blood dripping down from the cut Kragg had opened over his right eye, Holo-Victor started to smile. "Remember, you asked me," he cautioned, kicking Kragg's knee again. "It's all about your manhood."

The Klingon's roar was everything Holo-Victor could have hoped for. "What?"

Ella sucked in a breath. Threatening a Klingon's manhood while he was beating the shit out of you was not the road she would have taken.

"Manhood, Kragg - weren't you listening?" Holo-Victor started to weave slightly, as if his injuries were taking their toll. "This is all about manhood - the 'Divine' crap, you being here - all of it."

"I sandbagged him here - he wasn't expecting me to still have this much left in me," Victor told Ella. "Remember that too - it's an even better tactic for you."

She made a non-committal noise.

Kragg opened his mouth to reply but Holo-Victor cut him off, stepping in and starting to throw punches - including some with his left hand for the first time since the start of the fight, rocking the General back. "You're hooked on the 'Divine One' crap to explain away the fact that you haven't got what it takes to make women happy in the sack aren't you?" he taunted. "That's why you lost it when you realized DeV'oraH was trying to shack up with Corgan. That's why you're killing people, because it's the only outlet left to prove you're a man. That's why you're here, trying to kill the Galaxy with the PPC, because you can't stand anyone having a bigger one than you. That's why you were so mad last night when the Princess 'polluted' herself with Leo." He drew back, breathing hard. "Tell me Kragg, did she turn you down? Is that what it was? Are you too old to get it up, or is it just so small that you couldn't stand the laughter anymore?"

~~Damn, Victor.~~ Ella said as the General exploded with a wordless cry of rage, and caught up to Holo-Victor in a step, hurling him to the floor. The General's foot lashed out again and again as Holo-Victor rolled and tried to diminish as much of the impacts as he could while the Klingon screamed, "Kill you, monkey! Stop your chatter! Kill you!"

When Kragg's rage finally subsided, he stepped back, breathing hard for the first time in the fight, and looked down at Holo-Victor. "I'll show you what kind of manhood I have, monkey," he ground out, eyes alight with madness. "When I set your cannon to overload and discharge within the intermix chamber and send the feedback through the plasma conduits to turn your warp core into a bomb to carry me to Sto-Vo-Kor, the last thing you feel will be me giving you what the Princess refused!"

Holo-Victor struggled to rise, gripping the nearest console. "Before you get too carried away there," he chuckled, his mouth starting to curve into a satanic smile, "you might want to ask yourself something."

"What, monkey?" Kragg laughed. "More games?"

"No, Kragg, no games. Just this: why did I let you beat me all over the room like this instead of just shooting you as soon as you walked in the door? Why did I suck up all this damage just to get you standing right there? Why am *I* the one that's laughing right now? What's *my*reason?"

Kragg started to laugh as Holo-Victor spoke, stopped, frowned, looked to either side, then down at the grated vent below his feet - and then slowly looked up.

"Fuck you and die, monkey boy," Holo-Victor rasped, his smile gone cold as death as he depressed a single switch and opened the emergency shunt for the plasma conduit directly over Kragg's head.

"Freeze Program," Victor said quietly, as Kragg's scream and the roar of the venting plasma merged into one rising sound. In the sudden silence that followed, he stood there and gave Ella a moment to process what she'd seem.

"Do you understand?" he asked quietly after a moment.

Her eyes remained fixed on the plasma and then moved slowly to examine the expressions of Kragg and Victor. She didn't appear to hear his question.

"Do you understand why I lost this fight?" he clarified.

She turned to him, her face unreadable, and shook her head.

"I lost because I played his game," Victor explained carefully. "I didn't just phaser him as soon as he walked in the door like I should have. Instead, I set this up to prove a point to him, fought this whole fight, just to get him to this one moment." He pointed to Kragg's frozen image, the plasma running down him like water. "Just to make him understand that he was only a monkey too." He paused. "That's why I lost."

She took her time in replying because the part of her that was capable of murder didn't understand. She couldn't feel sorry for Kragg and if Victor had brought the pig down a peg or two, then more power to him. Victor had done what Kragg's victims could not. The bad guy had been defeated.

But the part of her that regretted her actions, the part of her that constantly loathed the darkness that resided within her, that mourned the loss of innocence, and tried to cling on to whatever stray morals she had left.. For hadn't she stooped to their level when she had sought revenge?

~~I killed a man like he would have killed me.~~ Ella replied finally. ~~ I deafened a man so he wouldn't take pleasure in anything like before. Both were efficient and yet fairly torturous. Are my actions playing their game or justice, Victor?~~

"You're the only one that can answer that for yourself, Grey," he told her quietly. "I can tell you what I think, but ultimately, all that matters is what *you* feel."

~~How politically correct of you.~~ Ella replied dully.

He looked at her for a silent second, and then said, "I think that you hurt yourself almost as badly as those men hurt you, Grey. I think that you're still hurting yourself, and I think that until you can forgive yourself for doing what you did, you're never going to escape them."

Ella chose to respond to the original question. ~~I think your point was wasted on Kragg. That flicker of understanding he had at the end wasn't worth the beating you took. So in that sense, yes, I suppose you lost. But he was defeated, you still live, and ultimately that's what matters, not the methods you chose.~~

"Methods matter, Grey. Even if you do it for a good reason, a bad thing still hurts you as much as the one you do it to."

She looked at her hands as she signed. ~~I don't know what to say. You toyed with him but ultimately saved the crew. Your actions usually have justifiable causes, save one incident.~~ Ella sighed.

"That doesn't mean that I should have done it the way I did it - whether I was trying to save myself, or someone else, or the whole ship."

~~Well, you can't change the past.~~ Ella's hands flickered without humor. Her back straightened signaling the end of the conversation. She willed her face to remain passive and her eyes to remain emotionless. ~~Was that all?~~

Victor nodded slowly. "That's all there is to this fight."

She nodded. ~~Thank you for keeping your promise.~~ She could at least give him that. Ella kept her tone even and cool. ~~I expect we won't be saying our goodbyes...again?~~

"I always say goodbye, Grey. I've had too much practice not to."

Ella forced her eyes to remain neutral. ~~Goodbye then.~~

"Goodbye, Grey." He looked at her for a moment, and then added, "There's a good wolf inside you, Grey. Let her out to run. When the wind's in your face, it's easier to forgive yourself for the things you've done."

~~The wind has no memory. I do.~~ She signed. ~~See ya around, Tiger.~~

She left.

"The Wind Has No Memory" Part 2 of 2

(Occurs ten days after the events of 'No Game for Knights')

Principal Characters:

Lt. Ella Grey
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 11
Holosuite 4

The clanks of security latches engaging sounded like hammer blows as Kragg sealed the room an instant later.

Kragg grunted again, another panel winked to muted life, and the hum of the containment field generators starting up sounded from beneath the deck. Holo-Victor inhaled slowly, his mouth open to let the air escape silently. At the controls, Kragg cursed once, pounded his fist into the console, and tried something else when what he was doing appeared to fail. The second try took, and Ella imagined the scene on the Bridge as alarms and klaxons started to sound when the cold-start startup sequence for the PPC's intermix chamber registered.

Like a puppet that didn't know he was being worked by strings, Kragg clicked on the shields at the lowest level needed to block incoming transports, not needing a higher setting for what he planned to do. "Fools!" he spoke for the first time. "Fools to think that Divine blood could be spilled by any but the Divine, that Divine actions could be judged by any but the same! Fools! Monkeys!" He spat the last word, his hands on the interface again, working as he spoke. "Time for the monkeys to scream in terror one last time... what?"

Holo-Victor straightened up and took a single noiseless step forward. "Something wrong, General? The 'Divine,'" he made the word a mocking insult, "computer skills not up to a simple code-lock on the intermix controls?"

Kragg whirled with a snarl, eyes searching the room. "Who?"

"Obviously the 'Divine' memory isn't what it could be either," Holo-Victor observed bitingly. "Maybe the monkey here isn't who you thought it was?"

"You!" Kragg took a step forward. "The smart monkey, the one that..."

"The one that made *you* look like a monkey last night," Holo-Victor affirmed. "And a particularly impotent monkey at that. Did you know that your 'Divine' face turns the most amazing shade of eggplant when you're taking it up the ass from a mere monkey in front of the one of the Living Swords of..."

Ella smiled faintly. ~~You're funny when you're` in this aggressive-goading state.~~ She signed before the general began to yell.

"Raaaaagggghhhhh!!!!!!" Kragg screamed out a basso roar of hatred and charged, boots pounding on the deck.

Holo-Victor dropped an earpiece that Ella recognized as one of the old-style communications officer's models, the clink of it hitting the deck lost in the thunder of Kragg's bellow and the need to slip to the side. His hands reached out to grasp one of the General's outstretched arms and send him flying into the wall with a pull and a slight shove.

Kragg slammed into the wall like a runaway freight train and hung there for a moment before whirling, shaking his head like a groggy bear. "Damned monkey," he growled out, flexing his hands. "I'm going to enjoy making you scream."

"So far," Holo-Victor returned, "You're the one doing all the screaming, Kragg." He made a beckoning gesture, trying to draw the Klingon out to the center of the room where he had more room to maneuver away from the General's ham-sized hands "Or is that the 'Divine' way of acknowledging that you *like* taking up the ass from monkeys? If that's the case, then I think we'll let the Princess' friend, Leo have go at you after I..."

Kragg's scream of rage was deafening as he charged again, this time veering at the last moment so that he got an arm under Victor's grab and crashed a blow into his ribs, as Victor spun him again and redirected the General into a console which shorted out in a spray of sparks at the impact. Nothing broke, but it blow drove the air out of Holo-Victor, robbing him of his ability to continue insulting the General as he staggered back a step and tried to draw in a breath.

Ella found herself in the middle of taking a step forward but then reminded herself that this had already happened. Besides, Victor had lived to tell the tale.

Kragg rebounded from the sparking console and tore a chair free from the deck, turning and swinging it at Victor as though it weighed nothing. The chair cut the air with a whistle, just missing as Holo-Victor threw himself back, then looped around again as Kragg spun completely about with it to keep coming. Holo-Victor dropped under the blow, tried a legsweep that bounced off one of Kragg's stony ankles, lost his balance as his foot hit the discarded and forgotten earpiece, and tried to roll to the side to dodge as the chair came around again.

This time the blow landed with enough force to fold him around the chair, his ribs giving way again with a series of snaps that ran together like a firecracker string going off. Thrown to the side by the impact, Victor slammed into the wall, scrabbled for a second as his feet threatened to go out from under him, then pushed away and stumbled to the left, ribs screaming, as Kragg slammed the chair into the wall where he'd just been, two of the chair's legs breaking off and spinning away from the violence of the strike.

"He broke five ribs there," Victor observed dispassionately from next to Ella. "All of them ones that had been broken earlier when some of the Klingon bodyguards almost beat me to death."

~Wha..~~ Ella's fingers began but her attention was drawn back to the General as he spoke.

"Laugh, monkey!" Kragg bellowed, turning to follow Victor. "Why don't you laugh?" He threw the chair aside and started for Victor again, his tread like the toll of doom on the deck. "Is it no longer funny?"

"Nah," Holo-Victor coughed, left arm tight against his side, as he turned another stumbling step into a lunge forward that carried him towards the center of the room again. "You're still the funniest thing going on the ship, Kragg - even funnier than the little dink that was slipping it to the Princess." He turned to face the Klingon, his right hand coming up defensively. "And the best part is that you're 'Divine' self doesn't get the joke."

"The only joke here is your attempts to stop me," Kragg countered, slowing his approach and starting to circle Victor. "I killed monkeys one at a time until it was boring because no one stopped me - now I get to kill all of them at once, and you still can't stop me."

"See what I mean?" Holo-Victor taunted, "You still don't get it, do you? You still don't understand."

Kragg moved in, and there was a flurry of blows exchanged, Holo-Victor having to take several that he looked to have wished he hadn't in order to land a single good blow to Kragg's right eye, and another to the General's nose. When they both pulled back, it was obvious that Kragg had apparently come out the better on the exchange, despite the rapid swelling at his eye. Ella watched it all, trying to get herself to stop twitching with each hit that descended into Victor's face.

"What is there to understand in your senseless chattering?" The Klingon kept circling, forcing Holo-Victor to turn and protect his injured ribs. "Monkeys have nothing to say."

Holo-Victor took a step back as Kragg lunged forward again at the end of the sentence, the move adding just enough distance to keep the bigger man's hands off of him. Using the moment that Kragg was overreached and off balance, Holo-Victor spun around in a wheeling kick and hammered his heel into the back of his opponent's head, sending Kragg to the floor. "This one does," he got out painfully. "You're just not listening."

The Klingon moved in more warily this time, throwing blows to keep Holo-Victor off balance while he waited for an opening. "Enlighten me, monkey," he rumbled after Victor picked off a right meant to snap his head back.

Holo-Victor sidestepped another right, got his leg up and blocked a low kick, and had to accept a blow to the left shoulder that spun him to the side and sent a tearing wave of pain down his side. "Ungh. Right... you asked for it," he grunted past the pain, shaking his head as if to clear it.

The General took the step in, reacted to the feint that Holo-Victor made with a shuffle like he was about to throw a left kick, then executed a hop-step and whipped his right foot up to strike the side of Kragg's left wrist as the General brought it up to defend himself, the bone snapping with an audible 'pop.'

"I broke his wrist there," Victor noted. "it really didn't slow him down as much as I would have liked. Remember that if you ever have to fight a Klingon."

I don't ever plan to, Tiger, she thought. But thanks.

Kragg winced, retreated a step, and experimentally tried to work the hand.

"You see, Kragg," Holo-Victor rasped out as they started to circle again. "The reason that you can't get the joke is that you're too close to it."

"That's why you can't see what's right in front of you, can't see - ungh - why I knew you'd be here," Holo-Victor took a blow on his forearm and kicked Kragg in the kneecap.

Ignoring the kick, Kragg moved in for another exchange of blows that appeared to wear Holo-Victor down some more as more of them got through this time. "What am I too close to?" he laughed. "Your death? I might find that amusing monkey, but I doubt you will."

Blinking at the blood dripping down from the cut Kragg had opened over his right eye, Holo-Victor started to smile. "Remember, you asked me," he cautioned, kicking Kragg's knee again. "It's all about your manhood."

The Klingon's roar was everything Holo-Victor could have hoped for. "What?"

Ella sucked in a breath. Threatening a Klingon's manhood while he was beating the shit out of you was not the road she would have taken.

"Manhood, Kragg - weren't you listening?" Holo-Victor started to weave slightly, as if his injuries were taking their toll. "This is all about manhood - the 'Divine' crap, you being here - all of it."

"I sandbagged him here - he wasn't expecting me to still have this much left in me," Victor told Ella. "Remember that too - it's an even better tactic for you."

She made a non-committal noise.

Kragg opened his mouth to reply but Holo-Victor cut him off, stepping in and starting to throw punches - including some with his left hand for the first time since the start of the fight, rocking the General back. "You're hooked on the 'Divine One' crap to explain away the fact that you haven't got what it takes to make women happy in the sack aren't you?" he taunted. "That's why you lost it when you realized DeV'oraH was trying to shack up with Corgan. That's why you're killing people, because it's the only outlet left to prove you're a man. That's why you're here, trying to kill the Galaxy with the PPC, because you can't stand anyone having a bigger one than you. That's why you were so mad last night when the Princess 'polluted' herself with Leo." He drew back, breathing hard. "Tell me Kragg, did she turn you down? Is that what it was? Are you too old to get it up, or is it just so small that you couldn't stand the laughter anymore?"

~~Damn, Victor.~~ Ella said as the General exploded with a wordless cry of rage, and caught up to Holo-Victor in a step, hurling him to the floor. The General's foot lashed out again and again as Holo-Victor rolled and tried to diminish as much of the impacts as he could while the Klingon screamed, "Kill you, monkey! Stop your chatter! Kill you!"

When Kragg's rage finally subsided, he stepped back, breathing hard for the first time in the fight, and looked down at Holo-Victor. "I'll show you what kind of manhood I have, monkey," he ground out, eyes alight with madness. "When I set your cannon to overload and discharge within the intermix chamber and send the feedback through the plasma conduits to turn your warp core into a bomb to carry me to Sto-Vo-Kor, the last thing you feel will be me giving you what the Princess refused!"

Holo-Victor struggled to rise, gripping the nearest console. "Before you get too carried away there," he chuckled, his mouth starting to curve into a satanic smile, "you might want to ask yourself something."

"What, monkey?" Kragg laughed. "More games?"

"No, Kragg, no games. Just this: why did I let you beat me all over the room like this instead of just shooting you as soon as you walked in the door? Why did I suck up all this damage just to get you standing right there? Why am *I* the one that's laughing right now? What's *my*reason?"

Kragg started to laugh as Holo-Victor spoke, stopped, frowned, looked to either side, then down at the grated vent below his feet - and then slowly looked up.

"Fuck you and die, monkey boy," Holo-Victor rasped, his smile gone cold as death as he depressed a single switch and opened the emergency shunt for the plasma conduit directly over Kragg's head.

"Freeze Program," Victor said quietly, as Kragg's scream and the roar of the venting plasma merged into one rising sound. In the sudden silence that followed, he stood there and gave Ella a moment to process what she'd seem.

"Do you understand?" he asked quietly after a moment.

Her eyes remained fixed on the plasma and then moved slowly to examine the expressions of Kragg and Victor. She didn't appear to hear his question.

"Do you understand why I lost this fight?" he clarified.

She turned to him, her face unreadable, and shook her head.

"I lost because I played his game," Victor explained carefully. "I didn't just phaser him as soon as he walked in the door like I should have. Instead, I set this up to prove a point to him, fought this whole fight, just to get him to this one moment." He pointed to Kragg's frozen image, the plasma running down him like water. "Just to make him understand that he was only a monkey too." He paused. "That's why I lost."

She took her time in replying because the part of her that was capable of murder didn't understand. She couldn't feel sorry for Kragg and if Victor had brought the pig down a peg or two, then more power to him. Victor had done what Kragg's victims could not. The bad guy had been defeated.

But the part of her that regretted her actions, the part of her that constantly loathed the darkness that resided within her, that mourned the loss of innocence, and tried to cling on to whatever stray morals she had left.. For hadn't she stooped to their level when she had sought revenge?

~~I killed a man like he would have killed me.~~ Ella replied finally. ~~ I deafened a man so he wouldn't take pleasure in anything like before. Both were efficient and yet fairly torturous. Are my actions playing their game or justice, Victor?~~

"You're the only one that can answer that for yourself, Grey," he told her quietly. "I can tell you what I think, but ultimately, all that matters is what *you* feel."

~~How politically correct of you.~~ Ella replied dully.

He looked at her for a silent second, and then said, "I think that you hurt yourself almost as badly as those men hurt you, Grey. I think that you're still hurting yourself, and I think that until you can forgive yourself for doing what you did, you're never going to escape them."

Ella chose to respond to the original question. ~~I think your point was wasted on Kragg. That flicker of understanding he had at the end wasn't worth the beating you took. So in that sense, yes, I suppose you lost. But he was defeated, you still live, and ultimately that's what matters, not the methods you chose.~~

"Methods matter, Grey. Even if you do it for a good reason, a bad thing still hurts you as much as the one you do it to."

She looked at her hands as she signed. ~~I don't know what to say. You toyed with him but ultimately saved the crew. Your actions usually have justifiable causes, save one incident.~~ Ella sighed.

"That doesn't mean that I should have done it the way I did it - whether I was trying to save myself, or someone else, or the whole ship."

~~Well, you can't change the past.~~ Ella's hands flickered without humor. Her back straightened signaling the end of the conversation. She willed her face to remain passive and her eyes to remain emotionless. ~~Was that all?~~

Victor nodded slowly. "That's all there is to this fight."

She nodded. ~~Thank you for keeping your promise.~~ She could at least give him that. Ella kept her tone even and cool. ~~I expect we won't be saying our goodbyes...again?~~

"I always say goodbye, Grey. I've had too much practice not to."

Ella forced her eyes to remain neutral. ~~Goodbye then.~~

"Goodbye, Grey." He looked at her for a moment, and then added, "There's a good wolf inside you, Grey. Let her out to run. When the wind's in your face, it's easier to forgive yourself for the things you've done."

~~The wind has no memory. I do.~~ She signed. ~~See ya around, Tiger.~~

She left.

"A Quiet New Year's"

Maj. Saladin Bolivar,
Chief Intel

Lt. JG Ahdjiia D'Tinya-Bolivar,
Security.

Silent new years were the best way to celebrate in Saladin's opinion was to spend it alone quiet with family contemplate what was new and what was old.

He was unsure what his wife had in store for plans but he did wish to spend it with her.

Silently he sipped a glass of a stout ale he had poured for himself and idly scratched a Tamarian hook spider behind the what he supposed was it's ear. The spider ended up working it's way into Saladin's lap for more pets with the Vulcan sand spider starting to get a case of jealousy and heading over for some attention as well.

Ahdjiia had called ahead to let Saladin know she was going to be a bit late after work, but that she'd make it up to him when she got home. True to her word, she arrived an hour late with a large parcel.

Saladin looked up as she came in, the Vulcan sand spider and a Klingon Tiger spider were also curled up in his lap. He smiled then gently moved them off his lap to spaces on the walls.

Then he kissed her lips softly, "A tradition, on the new year you give the one you love something special to them."

He then removed two packages, a wrapped one the size of a necklace, and a spider case carrying an Andorian silk spider, a pair of them to be exact. "I brought you more little ones, I hope they are to your approval..." Ahdjiia didn't know which to open first, so she went for the case first. The male and female spiders were skittish as the case was opened and they tentatively began to explore. She hummed a soft tune to them which seemed to put them at ease and they began to slowly crawl up her arms and ended up in her hair, beginning to spin what could end up as a veil.

"They're already fitting in.", she smiled as she opened the other box. Inside, nestled on forest green velvet was a necklace made from spun silver and crystal in the pattern of a web.

Her eyes opened wide. "It..it's lovely."

"Not as lovely as you..." He kissed her lips softly, "I saw the design in a dream and thought of you Ahdjiia my love." "How did you find someone to craft it?"

"I know several craftsmen who do excellent work I commissioned it." "My surprise is less splendid than this."

"it is from you that makes it splendid." Ahdjiia set the necklace down and opened the parcel she brought in. "It was true luck that I was able to get in contact with an old friend of mine and he was able to discreetly sneak this from home.", she said softly, letting her words sink in.

He now looked curious and moved closer, "What is it Ahdjiia?" "A parcel of things we use to celebrate the fullness of the year.", she said as she pulled out a pair of matching robes with a webbing motif on them. One with a wider trim she handed over to Saladin. "Not quite the same as the heavier robes you are used to, but perhaps someday you will wear it."

Saladin smiled and kissed her then handed her the robe, "How do I put this on?" "Just pull it on over your head.", she said, "The sleeves are quite wide, but you can easily tell the neck."

Saladin pulled the robe over his jacket and smiled, "How does it look on me?" "You're supposed to be nude underneath, but it does suit you quite well.", she smiled as she took out a delicate decanter of nectar and a small dense cake.

"Well in that case let me be dressed properly." "And we can spend a quiet night with just us, sharing this synna cake."

"How else do you celebrate the new year? I thought we would be speaking to fellow Khotani again... though Mariko can be a bit too much." "After the Christmas Eve...events...I have given my excuses.", she said, blushing slightly.

"I guess I walked in at the wrong time... though... Salad?" "One mangled the name and it spread like pollen on the wind.", Ahdjiia said

as she took her robe and headed to their bedroom to change for the evening.

Saladin ducked in to a bathroom and changed out of his clothing and in to the robe. Then he checked himself before stepping out to wait for her. Ahdjiia came out of the bedroom, robe billowing around her with her mantilla in place. She smiled at Saladin. "It becomes you."

He smiled back then kissed her, "your robe becomes you too...." Then he took her hand, "So, shall we celebrate." "Of course.", she smiled, "We just share the nectar and the cake while sharing memories of the past year and our hopes for the future."

"Like our baby being strong, like us having a large family, and maybe making love a few times..." "Among other things.", she said as she got them a couple flutes.

Saladin smiled, "Well what is the first thing done, how do we start?" This was a part of AHdjiia's people which he was curious about most of all considering they made her who she was. She was slicing up the cake into thin slivers on a plate when he spoke, "We just get comfortable, and that is all."

He poured some of the Nectar, "Then let's get comfortable.... Though one addition to the outfit..."

"Oh?"

Saladin picked up the web necklace he bought for her and placed it around her neck. "This one..." He clasped the necklace, "It looks beautiful on you..." Ahdjiia just smiled and offered him some of the spicy-sweet cake.

He took the cake and nibbled on a piece, then he sipped the nectar.

She looked at him to see how he took to the nectar. It was customary to take the sweet with the bitter as life dealt them.

Saladin didn't make a face, but the bitterness of the wine caused him to raise an eyebrow and sip again. "It is an..interesting taste, I assume there is a reason for this?"

"Life is both of the sweet and the bitter. We are celebrating that with this meal."

"Ahh, so far my life has been sweet. I have a beautiful wife and a child on the way."

"Nothing bitter at all?"

"What about you anything bitter, I cannot think of something aside from my father dying... but he is dying old with many progeny to carry on his name." "My people excommunicating me.", she said, "Instead of just ignoring me."

He slipped his arms around her to hug and held her, "I am sorry love, that they excommunicated you." "One must prune the sickly branch for the health of the tree.", she said, "I have accepted it, but there has been some times of late where I would like to see my family again, walk the groves where I had as a child."

"Perhaps when our child is born we can reach out with an olive branch to your family."

Ahdjiia shook her head. "Sadly, no child would be enough to reverse the decree.", she said, "It has been made and all must abide by it."

He took her hand, "You have family now....you are part of my home and clan, if you need anything my line and pride will be there for you." "I know.", she said with a soft smile, "And I was afraid that you would be outcast as well when you chose me."

He kissed her lips again and nuzzled her neck, "I would take being outcast for you Ahdjiia, but I'm glad I am not. I knew you would pass the Matriarch's tests... You are a strong person." He sipped the drink. "Do you like the silk spiders?" "I do.", she smiled, "And they are fitting in quite well already." The two spiders had found a nice niche in the breeding rack that Dhani had made and all seemed well for the night.

He kissed her gently and slipped his arms around her waist. "It has been a while since we have been togheter....not even intimately but just time like this." "I know.", she said as she sipped at her nectar.

He smield and held her, "This is a nice new years tradition..."

"When our children come, they share in this as well.", she smiled.

He kissed her, "We will have to get more cake and nectar then." Silently he nuzzled her neck then stole a teasing lick behind her ear.

"I'll be able to replicate it from the traces in the bottle as well as the crumbs left behind.", she smiled, tilting her head so Saladin could better taste her neck, "The one who arranged this for me is getting up in his years."

"Mr. Ral is getting up there in years. Though for your people is that not a long time?" He continued to kiss her neck softly, alternating kisses with soft nips along the tender skin along her neck and collarbone. "It is not, and he will be missed when his time comes."

"He will..." Saladin said softly as he began to nibble on her lobe. She sighed softly at his kisses, and began to slowly run a hand along his thigh. "Did you ever forsee this a year ago?", she asked.

"No.." He admitted honestly, "I did not see myself married with a child on the way. I never figured there'd be no one for me." He continued to nibble, his fingers tracing her other lobe as he tightened one arm around her.

"I did not expect this either, and that is taking into account how we met.", she smiled.

He chuckled, "So we should thank Mr. Mudd for our happiness." He kissed her lips softly.

"I still want to push him out an airlock.", she grinned.

He grinned back, "I will not stop you...."

"I would sincerely hope so.", she said as she kissed his nose.

He kissed her lips then hugged her, "I do love you Ahdjiia." "I know.", she said, returning his kiss and holding him tightly as well, "I love you too."

He kissed her a bit warmer and heatedly, his arms slipping around her and then he began to nibble on her neck again, "I can think of a perfect way to celebrate...." "And I do not need to be a telepath to know what you are thinking.", she grinned.

He laughed, "I know...." He kissed her again this time warmer and more passionately. His arms slipped around her waist and he nuzzled her neck.

"Shall we try for the bed or no?", she said as she began to plant tiny kisses along his jawline.

"We can try..." He let his hands caress her back, "But it would be a change..." Ahdjiia sighed softly. "Change would be intriguing."

"Then to the bedroom...." She kissed him and slowly stood up.

He followed her and took her hand in his. Then he slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her again.

"Somehow I do not think we'll make it to the bedroom.", she smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He chuckled and kissed her, "Is that a bad thing?" "Have I complained yet?"

"No..." He kissed her lips softly, then nuzzled her neck He then caressed her body through her outfit. "We can try to make it to the bedroom..." "Then we shall try.", she said as she began to nibble his ear.

He traced her backside with his hands then they moved through the door to their bedroom and he lifted her robe slowly.

"So we did make it.", she teased as she began to slide his robe up as well.

"Barely..." He let his lips caress her breasts as he suckled her. Ahdjiia just smiled and sighed, her back arching slightly as she felt the gentle shocks of pleasure start to warm her. Saladin guided his wife back to the bed and continued to caress her body before he removed his own robes and laid next to her naked. She ran a hand over his hardened muscles. "May we be like this next year." "I will make it so..." Ahdjiia just smiled and kissed him.

Saladin kissed her back and his fingers began to caress her most intimately. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she let her hands roam his body.

He moaned softly as she touched him and he felt himself grow rigid with her touch Then they began to move together, making love. It was an intimate dance both were quite familiar with, each bringing the other closer to the point of no return.

Saladin kissed her shoulder as they basked in the afterglow, then the chronomter turned to 0001....

He smiled at his wife and kissed her nose, "Happy new year Ahdjiia..."

"Happy New Year.", she smiled as she returned his kiss.

"Shifting reality"

By:
Lt. Commander Rose Isis MacAllen

Ensign Oxeno Jurrot

**Ten Foward**

He stood for the doors of Ten Forward in the USS Galaxy and hesitated a minute. After he got here he didn't make much friends. All he actually did after boarding on Wolf 359 was hanging around in his small quarters and the holodeck. But that was stupid. He had to make some new friends her. So go on. Get in that mess hall, he encouraged himself. Oh,this was silly.

He was full-grown man, had succesfully completed Starfleet Academy. He should be able to just wander in, order something and make some smalltalk with people. And as a Betazoid he even had the advantage to sense if someone was in need of some company. Other people entering the mess hall started looking at Oxeno. Probably wondering why he just kept standing there. Oxeno did a well-ment try to look as interested as possible at the dull plaquette near the doors to Ten Forward. "Can I help you with something?" There, now you had it. Oxeno had been standing there too long and now someone had come over to ask him what the hell he was doing there. In a much more polite manner ofcourse.

Okay, so this had taken long enough. He took a deep breath and muttered. "No, it's allright. Thank you." Without looking at the person who spoke to him, he marched in Ten Forward and walked straight to the counter. "A sandwich with some cheese, lettuce and tomatoes and a glass of water, please", Jurrot told the woman behound the bar. While waiting for his order Jurrot stared in the mess hall. A lot of strange faces in a bit similar environment. All those starships look alike, he thought to himself. As he gazed around he was more trying to sense the feelings of the people here, than looking at their faces.

All seemed happy. Laughing, being at ease, feeling comfortable. No one Oxeno would want to share his lunch with. He picked up one different vibe. More sad. More alone. Oxeno looked around the room. It was hard to pinpoint a feeling to a place. Feelings don't let them confine to coordinates that easily. He knew that all too well. The negative vibe was strong though. There was something else that didn't match with the other feelings. Almost as if it wasn't human, more familiar. That was it. He knew that torn soul personally.

Rose was too depressed to eat anything at all, many of her friends have been trying to get her to snap out of it after what happen to her with James but to no pervail, she just sat there playing with her red Betazoid wine. Her heart like always have been broken once more by an man who she though would love her like an lover not like an sister. The young Betaziod woman looked up at the handsome young man who she can feel was the same race that herself, "Yes you may sit sir." she replied in an soft voice. He looked at her, was confused for a split-second and stuttered: "Rose? Rose is that really you? My god, how could I've missed your name on the crew list? If I had known you were on the Galaxy I would've come to you sooner".

Rose looked at the man for an few minutes and replied telepathically, ~Oxeno, you old man is that you?~ she asked with an sexy smile while looking at him with her dark eyes. ~Great. Well, now I am. It's fantastic to see a familiar face around here. To be honest I was kind of lost.~ He felt relieved and confused at the same time. Rose Isis MacAllen. He let the three names drop by in his mind one by one. Gosh, did he have the hots for her in the Academy. Not that she ever knew. They were friends nothing more, but that wasn't his choice. He reminded himself to be careful with his thoughts. She could sense him, might even see right through him. That would surely not be a good start for a Chief of Psychology. He chuckled to himself. Then focused his full attention an thoughts back to her.

"Shall we speak out loud?", he said while sitting down at her table. "Might be strange for others to see to people sit silent with each other at a table", he said with a smile. She was kind of sad, he could sense that cleary. In need for some companionship. Together with her still astonishing look, that was all hard to resist for Oxeno. "Well, tell me. How have you been?" "I'm fine, just another man broke my heart again. I got promoted to representing the Starfleet Corps of Scientists now, I have three beautiful children, I was married but he was murdered an year an go." Rose said while talking to her old friend Oxeno which was helping her alot to get this feelings out into the office.

How great to meet an old friend, Oxeno thought to himself. But as he was thinking this he was picking up strange thoughts and feelings from the woman at his table. He could see nothing on her face as she was telling about her rather dynamic live full of ups and downs. But there was something, well, hostile inside her. He couldn't describe it any other way. ~Hostile?! Hah, you don't half about it!~ Ouch! The screaming thoughts cried inside of Oxeno. What was happening here to him? Or rather, with her? ~Shut up, you puny little creature. With my powers I can kill this whole damned crew within a second! You have to kill me, to stop me!~ Oxeno was startled. But he could sense now how Rose Isis was fully possesed with thoughts of destruction. She could make her threat become true. And he had to kill her to stop her. Or whatever was inside of her.

"Computer, freeze program." "Don't you have anybody else in mind for your hologram psychological test for the crew other than myself." a voice said while walking into the dark holodeck. "Hey Rose", Oxeno said, "glad you could make it. Well, I was just tinkering around a bit. And you know what they say: 'It's always good to write about something you know", Jurrot said with a smile. He was curious about the opinion of Rose, who he actually did meet on the Academy. Because she also likes to write holodesk novels in her spare time, he had asked her to help him with writing this psychology test. "What do you think of it so far?"

"I like it but please make it about somebody else we use to know, I don't have very many friends on this ship anyway and I don't want them to think I'm an nutcase." the young Betazoid woman said while walking in wearing an english riding outfit with her long brown hair down and smelling like Betazoid tigerlilies. "Haha, that's okay. Computer change appearance of female lead character. Make her half trill, half betazoid, keep the brown eyes, but change the hair color into blonde. Name the character...euhm...Janice Lamal. And make her boobs a bit bigger", Oxeno said with a devious smile. "Last request not recognized. Please restate request", the computervoice replied. "Oh never mind. It's not important. Make her a bit taller, broaden her shoulders and hips and then save the programm as 'Psychological Test Oxeno - 1'." "Programm saved."

"Is that better? So why are you all dressed up as an amazon?", Oxeno asked. "Going for a ride?" "You know I always go horseback riding in this outfit ever since the Academy", Rose replied while walking up closer to him with a little grin."Hmm, must have slipped my mind, I think. Looks sexy on you", Oxeno said. "You can ride, if you can keep up and have the guts too." she said while hitting to little whip against his butt a little but not to hard. "Is it warm in her or is that just me?" Oxeno was confused. He had a crush on Isis in the short time he knew her on the Academy, but he had the idea she hardly remembered him when they met on the Galaxy. No she was definitely coming on to him. Strong.

He must admit he was aroused when he woke up. Whoah, some dream. He knew he was a bit confused and alone since he arrived on this new starship, but he had no idea it went this deep. This dream was a clear sign. He really should do know, what he had been postponing since he read the names of the Galaxy-crew. He should contact Rose. The hadn't had contact since a few years, but so what. She would probably remember him too. Come on man, Oxeno told himself, get a grip. Go find her. "Computer, locate Rose Isis MacAllen". "Lieutenant Commander MacAllen is at Ten Forward", the computer replied. Go figure, the young Betazoid ensign thought. Well, he knew what to do if she turned into a evil creature threatening to destroy the whole ship. Pinch himself. Oxeno grinned and went on his way to Ten Forward.

Ensign Robert Biessman,
Tactical officer

~Before arrival on the Galaxy~

It had been several months since the Evolution was turned into a musuem and Robert was awaiting transfer on starbase 01. He had been informed that a transfer had been placed for him and that he would have to wait on a confirmation before he was able to know where it was, and frankly it was boring him, waiting on an answer, then finally while he sat in his quarters the news came. Robert walked over to the computer which had message waiting on the screen.

"The USS Galaxy as tactical officer, not bad a galaxy class." he said to himself noticing he was to leave in three days. "Computer patch me into Mr Biessman in Gaspe Quebec, Canada." He knew it would bring up the right one since there was only one Biessman with in 400 miles of Gaspe.

"Hello." his mother said answering the antique phone, which had been fixed up to answer modern day communications,

"Yes mom, I’ve got news I have been transferred to the USS Galaxy, as tactical officer." Robert said with pride.

His mother was silent for several second, "I see, when do you leave?"

"Three days." Robert said

"Ok then I’ll inform your father." his mother replied then hung up the phone.

"Fine be like that." Robert said a little upset they still didn’t approve of his career and didn’t care if they ever talked to him again. He walked into the bedroom and started getting ready to leave for the starbase where the ship was docked for the time being.

~Arrival on the Galaxy at starbase~

Robert walked on the ship from the starbase, he hadn’t been on a galaxy class ship and looked around, it was big the largest ship he had stepped on so far. He continued down the hal, into the turbolift and continued to the deck which had his assigned quarters on.

Walking into his quarters he noticed that his luggage had already been beamed into his bedroom plus an extra couple. He thought the person who transported the stuff over had made a mistake and beamed over some other persons luggage over as well.

"To Robert from Dad and mom with love." Robertsaud as he read the tag on the box. He proceeded to open the box and noticed a letter on the top of a box which was kept to refrigerate food.

"Robert I know we can’t keep you in the 20th century away from all the technology that is ruining society today but we can at least keep you from eating replicated food. More will be on the way when you want it." Opening one of the boxes he noticed they sent about twenty pounds of beef which was freshly slaughtered and in the other boxes was vegetables.

Robert smiled as he took the meat and vegetables out of the boxed and put them in the fridge. At least he knew they still cared for him although they don’t want to talk to him. He walked over to his computer and opened his mailbox one message, he checked it and it turned out to be his duty shift schedule. 0300hrs to 0930 hrs not the best hours but it was better then to one on his last posting. He checked his watch it was 0230 hrs a half hour before his first shift so he got up put on his uniform and walked out of his quarters and made his way to start his first shift.

"Normal Intel Crap"

Ensign Paulo DiMillo,
Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer

Paulo sat at his workstation in the intelligence offices. He was still going over intel reports about this area, trying to confirm his theory, and to find hopefully another approach to proving it. So far he was still at launching low yield torpedoes at the spatial distortions.

'Commander Data from the Enterprise had done the same thing during the Klingon Civil War, and it seemed to be his best option.

After hours of work Paulo finally put all the data into a complete report, with a experiment to solve it, the torpedo experiment. After all the work he had done that had been the only way to identify 100% if there was a Romulan ship in the area.

Paulo walked over to Major Bolivar's office and set the PADD on his desk.

Paulo turned and walked out, heading for his quarters to do his own personal work.

As he entered his quarters he sat down at his desk and brought up all the current files he was working on. Nothing new had happened, but he was hoping to get something out of a few newer reports that he had gotten only a week ago.

"Walkin, after Midnight..." Pt. 1

NRPG: Yes, I did name a post after a Patsy Cline song. Watcha gonna do about it HMMM???? And for those expecting a wedding, we've decided to skip it for now. Dr. Fienberg and Ms. Macfarland are....well....wed, for lack of a better term.

By
Lt. JG Dr. Klaus Fienberg,
Medical Officer.

Location: Deck 7
Time: 0134 hours.

The sounds of an old tune from the mid 20th century seemed to hang in the air. Why he had listened to a song he considered terrible, still a mystery. The weight of the wedding band hung heavy on the hand.

The Good Doctor had been reduced to walking around Deck 7 after midnight, deck 7 being his 'Neighborhood.'

-Why am I thinking of her. Why? I'm a married man for goodness sake.- The thoughts of a lost love rushed him. Lacy Trang. -But I can't help but wonder where she is. And if Gunther Engleman was still hunting her. She was last heard of on Betazed. It is doubtful she is still there, especially since she isn't of noble blood. On the run through the stars, and likely very far from here. Who knows, she might have returned to the Sturmovik, or even protective custody at Starfleet Command Itself! But I mustn't let my mind stray. If Kay.....thank god I'm not a Betazoid.-

The Halls of the ship were still lit well at this time of night, but very empty. The Occasional Night Shift officer investigated the casually dressed man, and offer many different methods of sleep aids, but were all turned away. By 0230, Klaus was on the other side of this ship. Deep in thought.

He looked lovingly at his hand, then tried to remove his ring.............it was stuck. Following this were several garbled, un-understandable curses in german. He finally gave up and continued to walk. -Well, I had intended to remove and look at the ring, but...my body felt otherwise. Oh nevermind. Better just head home.- and so he did, continuing back toward his quarters, continuing the round trip around the primary hull of the Galaxy.

"Closest Thing To A Friend"

Primary Characters:

Lieutenant JG Chase Remur
Ensign Rima Pennington

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 9
Tactical Offices

Consoles. They smoke, they blow up. Occasionally you can do things on them.

That was the opinion Chase Remur was beginning to form about the consoles in the tactical command center. A hacker and analyst by trade, she was beginning to hate these intermittent computer failures, which seemed to be yet another affect of the Quick Virus. She felt like she'd been under the console since Donovan Black was Chief Tactical Officer.

~I might as well be an engineer,~ Remur thought, and pulled herself out from under the console. Couldn't they build these things so you didn't have to lay on the floor to access their workings. And whoever invented replacable isolinear chips was a moron. She'd been switching for the past half hour, trying to find the bad one. No luck yet.

Four CTOs. That's how many they'd gone through since the ship left port. The famous Galaxy tactical turnover rate was in full effect on the 'A' is seemed. Chase looked at up at the portraits of them, hung around the top of the room. Another tradition.

Lieutenant Commander Tim O'Connell. He hadn't lasted very long. His wife got transferred off by Captain John Q. Bhrode, and O'Connell had followed. Of course, that was when she was still playing with computers for Intelligence under Donovan Black.

Incidentally, Lieutenant Black had been the second CTO, and he'd brought with him most of the current tactical officers and analysts. He too hadn't lasted for more than a year before leaving, just before the Harry Mudd and his showed up. The one eye'd tactical chief probably would have thought that a good thing, since his wife had also been onboard.

Then there was Lieutenant Commander Cassius Henderson, another former Intelligence officer, who had come in when Black left, and had stayed for just over a year. Remur had actually enjoyed working for Henderson. Not a bad officer. He'd just been breveted to Commander and made XO. Not a bad step up by her mind.

And now they had Savar tr'Khellian, SubCommander from Romulus. Chase still didn't know what to think of the Romulan. He was impersonal, but he got things done. There was that. And so far, no command structure changes. Again, not bad. His portrait looked a bit... was it smug? Was it scowly? She couldn't decided.

The familiar *CLOMP* *CLOMP* *CLOMP* of federation issue boots brought a close to her thoughts, and she frowned, "What now, Rima?" Sure enough, the ensign slumped into the room and into a chair, PADD in hand.

"I am overseeing repairs, Chase," Rima gripped. She'd been here before. On the Rondelle, that bucket of a maintenence vessel from whence she'd come. The place she'd first met Cass Henderson.

Chase Remur pulled herself under the desk and chuckled. It was only fitting. Nobody had been quite sure what to make of SF Command sending some emotionally overwrought ensign to replace Lieutenant Dan Livadhi, Black's self assured assistant.

"And?"

"And it sucks just as badly now as it did on the Rondelle," Rima said 'sweetly'. It wasn't like Remur actually liked her, but then, nobody did. And as far as she was concerned, Chase Remur was as close as she came to having a friend on the ship.

"That maintenance Oberth?" Remur did laugh, "I thought they only assigned screw-ups to the Rondelle."

Rima looked at the other officers feet and frowned, "They do."

"Oh. Sorry," Chase stifled a laugh, "You'll get used to it. Change happens often in this ship's tactical department, or so I'm told. Savar won't last. Who knows. Cass may be back down. He's only a Lieutenant Commander, you know, and with no time in command school. Don't worry."

"I'm not worrying, I'm complaining," Pennington said.

"You're whining," Remur shot back.

"Fine, be that way," Rima said, "In the meantime, Savar says to finish that console in the next hour, then get down to the PCC room. Evidently there's some snarly bits of metal from some 'General Kragg' in the plasma vent that we didn't get out in the first sterilization. Have fun."

"You too. You're still just an errand girl," Remur said, groaning. More maintenance.

"Only until Beta Shift," Rima replied, "Then I'm a statue." Bridge duty was almost worse. At least she had been given a chair recently, and unlike her commander, she wasn't too proud to use it. It was a real shame. Her mind games didn't work on Savar any better than they did on Cass. Damn it.

"Catch you after hours," Remur said.

"Right..." Pennington said, stepping away. She really didn't want anything to do with 'Miss Word Perfect', as she thought of the computer tech. It wasn't that Remur was a bitch, but more that she made Rima look really bad.

"Rubbing Salt In The Wounds"

Primary Characters:

Lieutenant Commander Cass Henderson
Ensign Rima Pennington

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 9
Tactical Offices

"This just sucks, Cass," Rima sat behind what had been Cassius Henderson's desk. "I was so much happier when you ran the department. Weren't you?"

Cass paused. He'd been taking a photograph off the wall, packing for the move. It was an old one, of himself and Brenna Worthman, the Commander... *Captain* with SFI that he had worked with on missions. "Yes, I was more content as the Chief Tactical Officer. But then again, a promotion is a promotion, and I'll settle in. My career is..."

"Your career! What about us?" Rima exploded, "You told me that just because I wasn't the assistant anymore, we didn't have to stop working together. What now, Cass?" She couldn't believe her ears. Cass Henderson, the defender of the federation, had never seemed to look at his career as terribly important.

"Us?" Henderson said, "When I said that to you, I wasn't thinking Von Ernst would dissapear on Wolf 359.

"I hate to break it to you, but we were counting on you."

"We?" Henderson grimaced in confusion, "Again with the pluralisms. You were counting on me. The others were just doing their jobs, Rima. They didn't need me to take care of them."

"Ow? That hurt, Cassius," Rima shot back mockingly, "Savar treats them like children, me like any other ensign. Or maybe the phrase is second class citizens. Mr. High And Mighty Romulan." She jabbed her finger at him.

Cass sat down and rubbed his eyes wearily, "When did they elect you to speak for them? And you *are* any other ensign."

"When you started paying extra attention to me," she replied, looking away, remembering her earlier conversation with Miss Word Perfect, Lieutenant JG Remur. This was ridiculous. When she'd shown up to board, all she'd wanted was for Cassius to leave her alone, and now here she was, "Remur was the one who talked to me. Technically, I think they all talk to her."

"I see," he frowned, "You know, Rima. It's not as if I'm doing this completely of my own volition. Remember when they assigned you as my ACTO? You didn't want to do it, but you did it anyway. After being court-martialed once, I'm amazed they're offering me this. I have to shine now, or I might not get another chance."

"Again with your damned career," Rima sighed, "You never got over being booted from SFI, did you? Don't look so surprised, I'm just as capable of looking up your records as you are mine, which I happen to know you did when I came here."

"You don't know anything about that, Rima," Cass snapped, "We're going in circles here. What is it you want? I'm not going to turn the promotion down. I've really already accepted it. Unless they assign a neew XO at the mission's end, it'll probably be permanent."

Rima looked at him. It was like talking to a brick wall, "Cassius, you're impossible. So what do we do now?" There, she had dodge the question rather neatly.

"Wait a minute, Rima," Cassius said, still a little angry, "Let's get this straight. There is no we or us, unless *you* are finally willing to talk about it. You know exactly what I mean."

Rima didn't reply immediately, or shoot off one of her sharp tongued replies. In fact, there was a pause. One of the long, awkward pauses that sometimes result from people bringing up sensitive subjects.

"You know that wasn't what I meant, Cass," Rima said, curling her feat up into the chair and letting her hair fall into her face. She didn't bother to fix it.

"Yeah," Henderson replied, "Doesn't change the fact that it has to be dealt with. And we really weren't getting anywhere on the other subject."

"No, I guess not," she replied. They were quiet now, which annoyed her. Instead of the usual shouting and banter, now they had this half-hearted attempted at a real conversation. It was week. "You're really into that whole 'deal with the problem thing' thing."

"I think that's part of being male, Rima," he replied, suddenly regretting his earlier words, "I'm sorry."

"Why? I'm the one with the problem, at least according to everyone I'm ever known," Pennington said, "You're the XO of the starship Galaxy. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I'm the one who punches admirals' nephews and tries to avoid her superior officers. I'm the one who can't deal with my feelings, or memories, or non-memories, or whatever they were."

He nodded, but said nothing. She didn't need to know that he was having a hard time with it too. She didn't need to see him weakened.

Rima winced. Why wouldn't he say anything? Did he not get that she was talking out her ass, because she couldn't find the words. "At the end. I told you that there had to be a time for everything, and that our time was up. Then we died. It wasn't much to base anything on. It didn't even happen."

"It was something though," he said, "And I do think about it. You have a lot more potential in you than even I think you do sometimes."

"I know you think about it Cass," Pennington said, "If I do, you do. And you know I agonize over what may have been possibly felt. BUt I'm not ready to do more than agonize." She felt sick.

"Okay," Cass replied. It wasn't know, but he didn't want to push, to make her feel worse, "I'll see what I can do for you in the meantime. I'm always there, Rima. For you, and now for the whole crew. I just don't write the roster anymore. I'll see you on Beta Shift."

"I guess so," Pennington said, picking up the rest of his things and putting them in his box, "Now get out of SubCommander tr'Khellian's office and give me some time alone."

"No problem," he said, walking away. For now.

"Devotion to Duty" - Part Four

By Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer

Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian
Acting Chief Tactical Officer

Lieutenant Commander James Lionel Corgan
Chief Security Officer

Appearances by:

Saladin Bolivar,
Chief Intelligence Officer

Ahdjiia D'Tinya,
Security Officer

*****

Deck 8,
Stardrive Section
Intelligence Offices
USS Galaxy

******

"Trust me, Tr'Khellian. We're not f**king Mayberry, and I'm no f**king Barney Fife. Different league or not, she'll be in for a mean surprise." The chief of security growled. Though his misgivings were obvious, he anticipated the pounce, and how ridiculous the Tal' Shiar would look if caught by a mere Starfleet security force.

Savar frowned at the Security Chief in genuine bafflement. He understood what the word 'fucking' meant - gutter-speak, and he had prepared himself for that, though he had not expected to hear it from the mouth of an officer. But, he reminded himself, not all officers in the Federation were gentlemen. "I have no idea as to what you allude to by 'Mayberry' or 'Barney Fife'," he told Corgan, archly. "Nor was I questioning your forces' competence, Lieutenant Commander." Curran was doing a good enough job of that with his snide remarks so far.

"Then we are in agreement?" The Kelvan warily focused on each officer in the room. The Rihannsu Excahnge Officer, with his short cutting remarks denouncing inferiority on all present, giving way to those whose perception was trained to capture the slightness of not forthcoming in all that is needed to know; Kylar would accept this as it came to be. He had all the knowledge required to grasp the situation as it arrived.

Bolivar, the genetically enhanced Intelligence Chief who he knew would no doubt be setting in his keen mind the route and quarters the arrival would be taking.

Corgan, the mentally incoherent Security Chief who would no doubt be selecting officers who were just as unbalanced, but equally ferally loyal to the Federation, and D'Tinya. The Chrysalian was quiet and morose. She did not give much in the matter of physiologically identifying her thoughts. Her record was fairly nondescript, but equally mysterious in her years spent in the 'Fleet. She had something to hide, obviously, but didn't they all?

The security chief allowed himself a sly smile. Curran was deep in thought, though each glance at an officer betrayed his scanning mind. Each look showed the Kelvan's superiority, always looking down and seeing the negatives.

The Rihannsu with his analytical mind and equally cunning mind. Bolivar, always the spy, seeing and reading instead of judging, and Lieutenant D'Tinya, cool as usual. The jabs, insults, and subtle hints were blasting off like sparks, and the Kelvan was doing well to start it all. How James enjoyed this! A superior species, caught up in his own pride!

"Let the mental chessgame begin." James wisecracked.

"This is a situation in need of a firm grasp in protocol and cultural acceptance. Tr'Khellian is correct in that I haven't the liberty in denying the Tal Shiar permission to board nor in ordering the Ambassador off this ship. We are out of instantaneous subspace contact with the Council and Starfleet Headquarters. Any communications with them would take weeks to receive a response. The fate of the Treaty of Galvanis can be honored or destroyed in that timespan." The burden wore heavy on his shoulders of the importance and nature of the events that would transpire. This would be his test.

"Sub-Commander Tr'Khellian will lead the diplomatic delegation to greet the Tal Shiar visitor. We may learn something at his presence, we may learn little. From my little experience," he didn't have to catch the Romulan on this subtle barb, "We will likely glean nothing from a physiological standpoint. Nevertheless, Security will carry portable field medical scanners to record the responses of the Rihannsu delegation."

Curran turned to Corgan.

"Commander, select two of your top-rated personnel to accompany us. We'll need to keep the party small and fairly informal. No need to let on any more than would be obvious."

"It's obvious, really. Lieutenant D'Tinya should go. And I would like to assign Lieutenant O'Rorke to this duty. I would go myself, but you did say my top rated personnel..." He sighed, allowing his self inflicted insult to sink in. Feeding the Kelvan's superiority complex would be quite amusing.

"Mr. Corgan, you wouldn't be Security Chief if you weren't top-rated." How far did stupidity go with these Terrans? "I'm not about to interfere with your selections, but I'm curious why you wouldn't select Lieutenant Krieghoff? Is there a problem with him?"

"His intimidation factor is an asset. However, given that this situation needs a diplomatic touch, Krieghoff is not the man we need for this job right now. O'Rorke can handle herself."

"I don't agree. Krieghoff is exactly the officer we need for the job. His personnel record, tainted as it is with reprimands, denotes an underlying sense of loyalty to the Federation. His pursuit and subsequent capture of General Kragg last year shows focus. O'Rorke hasn't hardly had enough experience with this sort of diplomacy. We are in need of veteranship in this action."

"Krieghoff has no f**king sense of loyalty, Legate! He can't be relied on in this situation. His personnel record proves that. Transfers off virtually every assignment for insubordination. I can't trust him to adhere to diplomacy. He doesn't know anything about laws and protocols." If it were in Corgan's nature to spit, this would've been a good time. Right on Curran's polished boots. "It's not his strong suit. O'Rorke's been in the business since she graduated the Academy."

"And I have been in the 'business' much longer than she has, Commander. Therefore, her place on the roster is moot. Krieghoff will take her place." Corgan opened his mouth to retort, but Curran fixed him with a hard stare.

"The decision has been made, 'Commander." The Kelvan turned his cold gaze to the Nietzchean. "Major Bolivar, do you have anything else to add?"

"Krieghoff is a better choice, he is more ruthless and efficient." He looked at Dallas, "And I will also be there. "

"Sub-Commander Tr'Khellian, Is there anything else we need to be aware of?"

Savar considered the question. "Above all else, we should remember that the agent is young, a fresh-faced recent graduate from the Tal Shiar training facility. Whilst her skills will be far in excess of a standard Federation Security Officer, she will lack experience." He looked towards Corgan. "She is likely to be cocky, over-confident, naive. This is the gap in her defenses which you must exploit."

"Then let us prepare for the arrival of our visitor." The Liaison Officer reached across the conference table to spin the terminal around to him. At the scanning of several database files, he found what he wanted.

"We have a scheduled arrival of an 'Atole Tekri' for Ambassador Omar due in 3 hours. Is this name familiar to you, Sub-Commander?"

Saladin waited and watched the sub commander, 'Atole Tekri' was listed as a visiting delegate arriving via a Romulan Scout class vessel, marked and identified under diplomatic plates.

Savar's eyebrows were fused in a confused frown. "Atole Tekri is not a Rihannsu name," he replied, shaking his head. "Not like any I have ever heard."

"It is of little import. We shall adjourn until 1130 hours at Shuttlebay 3 where you shall lead us into the foray. The fate of two governments rests on your shoulders, Sub-Commander. Let us hope you are telling us the truth on your laurels, for if you are not... I hope your conscience can withstand the weight of the burden of failure."

Tr'Khellian regarded the Legate with cold eyes, and wondered how many more insults he could take calmly from this disgusting wretch. He knew that underneath the mask he wore, the Kelvan's true form was a grotesque array of writhing, slimy tentacles and barbarous appendages - but to be truthful, his apparently decaying 'human' form was not a much more pleasant sight to behold. Not for the first time in this exchange, he wondered what was happening to Curran, as he lashed out wildly, malice all too evident in his weary, tortured eyes. He ignored the terrible implication of Curran's impolitic words, barely able to control his own ire.

"Or you could just say 'don't f**k up', and skip stating the obvious." Shrugged the security officer, his smile and twisted good humour hiding the nervosa he harboured.

Curran snapped his gaze to the Terran. "In some cases with personnel on this ship, it *is* required to state the obvious, 'Commander! As such, there is no need for insults, derogatory terms, or non-regulation slang which in the sense you are saying is to not propagate in an upright position. Absolutely *nothing* to do with the situation at hand, unless you have a tryst with the Rihannsu officer coming on board?"

~"Oops, a little too much. He can dish it out, but can't take it. Just like Omar."~ Thought James, not changing his demenor. ~"Guess I shouldn't have made the snipes more obvious than his own."~

Crisp as winter ice, Corgan replied in his most neutral, yet spiteful tone, "Duly noted, Legate. I'll remember everything you noted today, and keep it more serious in our dealings during the future." ~"Homosexual accusations aside, of course. In otherwords, you're a prick and i'll rub your face in it if you push me."~ On the inside, James was smiling. Curran was not above all the jabs. So much for superiority.

"No Clue, No Luck, No Love”

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

Location: Rebecca Von Ernst’s quarters (?)

He was looking back at an empty domicile, where even the curtains were violently ripped out of their sockets. The clandestine evacuation of the second officer looked hasty in its preparation, and everywhere he looked were small but telltale signs of debris. Small pieces of litter yet killed by the nanocleaners, or searched and destroyed by the Galaxy’s janitorial staff, stayed on the oasis of gray carpet. A whitish ring stained the coffee table, a former remnant of one of her favourite concoctions; a peppermint milkshake, while another shake’s remains were spilled and fading in the corner.

Rebecca Von Ernst’s quarters were no more. There was just an empty shell of a room, and a few tufts of synthetic papers and a couple of carpet stains were all that stayed to remind someone that this room was occupied.

“What… the hell… just happened?” Gasped the shocked security officer. He expected to talk to Rebecca and tell her how he felt.

What he never expected was her hasty departure, without anyone on the ship knowing, hearing, or even breathing a word about it to himself, and looking at her vacant quarters with a blank, stupid look in his eyes and his jaws dragging on the linoleum. Or in otherwords, the exact opposite of what he expected and what he thought should have happened.

Walking deeper into her quarters, he had to check to see if they were really abandoned. The bedroom checked out as being vacant. Not a single silken sheet or stuffed animal remained to remind James of her childlike innocence. The bathroom was also empty, sporting not even a hair or a brush. It was abandoned, no matter how many times he paced around the room, looking for more clues as to where she could have been spirited off too. His impatience was growing, and his constraint was frayed.

~”How long ago was this?”~ James pondered with a growing irritation, “Computer, when was the last recorded moment of Rebecca Von Ernst in the sensor logs? When and where?”~

The computer spat out. =/\=”Commander Rebecca Von Ernst last appeared on shipwide sensors at 20:00 hours, Stardate 50311.29. Location: Shuttlebay.”=/\=

~”That clinches it.”~ James groaned in frustration, ~”She took a shuttle. Flew out of this ship, out of my life. Great… just f**king….”~

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence, for he felt the need to throw a heavy object at the force field porthole.

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

Main Shuttlebay, fifteen minutes later

Shuttlebay was in for a shock.

The crewmen and women that saw Commander Corgan come storming into the busy shuttlebay area stepped cautiously out of the way, appearing as if they were busy at work, but keeping a covert interest as to why the security officer was in such a foul mood. Apparent to all, James had a storm cloud brewing over his head.

Moe Branson had a minute worth of warning from the observation deck. He was supervising the unloading of a courier shuttle when all the sudden, he saw the chief of security scythe a path across the shuttlebay and towards him. From his limited dealings with security, he could surmise that it was far from good (though usually meetings between Ops and Security was peaceful).

“Uh oh.” The trill shuttle ops officer muttered to a sub-ordinate, “Here comes trouble.”

The amazing rate at which Corgan ate up the distance between shuttlebay and ops centre added to the urgency. Moe straightened his uniform up, re-adjusted his badge, and ran a hand over his head to check for unstraightened hairs, anticipating the security chief to chew him out for being improperly uniformed. But when Commander Corgan was face to face, he asked one question.

“I need to know about a shuttle that left around 20:00 hours, three days ago.” Corgan stated impatiently. “Now.”

Stuttering, Moe nearly tripped to get at the console next to him. “Sir…” he stammered, “I don’t remember a shuttle at that time. It was night shift… there’s almost no activity during that time. The marines don’t even do their wargames during those hours.” Feeling the reassuring coolness of the console, he flicked through the general schedule during the last few days, “Sir, nothing much goes on during those hours. I mean… last couple of days we had a shuttle or two, and I think there was one that arrived at about…. 18:00 or so on the day you mentioned, but that’s it as far as I know….”

With the security officer looming over his shoulder, Moe sweated openly as he searched the files for James’ mystery shuttle. The records showed a landing on stardate 50311.29, at 17:56:03. “There it is… see?” He pointed out, “Only one that showed up at about that time. See? Right there. Approximately 18:00 hours. It departed……… 20:03:54.”

“Any mention of that shuttle carrying cargo… or passengers?” Corgan pressed, anxious.

“Let me check…” Hummed the shuttle ops officer, cycling through the records. Though the shuttle showed on the record screen, Branson was not receiving much else. “Huh? Sir… you may not like this, but the shuttle records no cargo or crew manifest. According to these records, the shuttle docked, grabbed fuel, and went on its way. Sometimes we find a shuttle that doesn’t use a mini MA/AM on board, such as a short range courier or an intersystem shuttle, and we were close to the Runic system. But here’s the kicker… it doesn’t have a name. Just a registery number.”

“Alright. That’s highly unusual.” Moe Branson’s excuses were not adding up, so James wanted to dig further, “Bring up more information on that shuttle. What class was it?”

”Coming right up.” Branson recalled the shuttle’s information, “It’s a Class 5 A shuttle. Starfleet exclusive model.” The schematics of the shuttle appeared. Looked like a standard small transport and courier, but lacked identity markers that usually showed up when recalling previous landings, “Hybrid MA/AM-Deuterium warp engine in this shuttle. It has the ability to hop from system to system, but this type of shuttle is mostly seen in the interior of the Federation, to keep closer to fuel sources. Why it would be all the way out here is beyond me.”

”Where are the markings?” James hastened.

“I don’t know. Shuttles of this type usually are christened like our ship’s shuttles. There is a serial number. I’ll give it a check in the database. Standby.”

Typing in the numbers, Branson activated a standard database search. The numbers were cycled through and a list rapid fired through the screen, until it halted at one entry.

“Shoot. Just as I thought. Database doesn’t have a name on this shuttle either.” Branson sighed, “Sir, I don’t know what that shuttle was, or where it came from.”

”Then what the f**k are you guys doing down here, sitting around with your thumb up your ass?” Snapped James, “I was in ops before. I know for a fact that every warp probe that ends up here is carefully categorized and archived. But for some reason that escapes me at the moment, this shuttle was not. Why?!”

Recoiling back, Branson stuttered, “I… don’t know, sir! Honest! We do record everything, but only what’s given to us! That shuttle must have had clearance of a more… classified nature. That’s the only reason I can think of.”

James decided to ease up on the shuttle ops chief. “I see. Slip in unnoticed, give the database some nebulous clues, and go out during a lull in the schedule. Like a thief slipping out into the night. Why does this not surprise me…”

“Sir, I could ask around. Question some crewmen on that shift about the shuttle. It doesn’t show the shuttle taking on any crewmembers. Why are you asking about that?”

”Officer, that shuttle did take on a crewmember. Our second in command left the ship at the same time that shuttle also departed. Can you bring up any information on the departure of Commander Rebecca Von Ernst?”

As James kept his impatience restrained, a lump solidified in Branson’s throat. “Sure…” He inputted a new inquiry in the database. Rebecca’s departure record clearly showed, in bold amber writing. “Sir, according to the database, she left at 20:00 hours, on board a shuttle.” He accessed the log file, and found a rather intriguing sight. “Sir… there’s nothing. If she left the ship, we would catagorize why. Shoreleave, personal leave, transfer, it wouldn’t matter. It would be logged. But this log says… nothing.”

Branson turned to James. “I’m not liking this, sir.”

James stared at the blank document, amazed. Rebecca was gone, most likely on a shuttle with no name but a registry number, and no reason to be this far out of its territory. It may or may not have spirited away a high ranking Starfleet officer, who’s departure was recorded with no details attached, and no notice given to any of the senior staff. Though something was highly suspicious, James couldn’t say what was really going on. Whatever was at work, the masterminds of Rebecca’s disappearance didn’t leave much to work with.

”Where was the shuttle heading?” Corgan took over at the console, “Any destination log?”

”No. None.” Branson pointed as James charged through the databank. There was nothing. The shuttle appeared, as far as the computer knew. That was all it knew. And all James knew as well.

But he wasn’t about to give up. His fingers flew, going through a tangent he thought of before. Checking out the ship’s external sensor logs, he looked through sensor data during the time of the shuttle’s landing and departure. “Look here.” He waved to Branson, “Sensors did detect the vessel, and logged its course. Heading 642 point 857, port. At the time, it appeared the vessel came from Runica Primus. Check out the ion trail.” He transposed the sensor data’s ion scans onto a grid map. “There seems to be a set course, but… wait a minute…” The departure time showed a different ion trail. It wasn’t aimed for the Runic system, the nearest populated center at the time. It was aimed straight for Sol, which was considerably farther away. Stranger still, the ion trail disappeared nine lightyears away.

“Sir…” Branson asked, “That’s not normal, is it?”

”You’re the shuttle ops officer. You tell me. Is it?” James shot back.

Branson thought for one second. “It isn’t sir…”

“No it isn’t.” James trailed off. Of all luck, James found the potential love of his life gone, with barely a clue to her destination. “Not normal at all…”

1168