"Blackout"

Lieutenant Corran "Spots" Rex (Vanguard Leader)
Pilot Kell "Wraith" Tainer (Vanguard Two)
Flight Officer T'Shani "Forgehammer" A'Akledorian (Vanguard Three)
Pilot Sanoe "Sunshine" Nani (Vanguard Four)

----------

... "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 routes 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.

***

"Yes Sir!" The pilots of the Vanguard Squadron--now dressed in their gray with blue shoulderboard flight suits, with the new white tunics--resounded in unison. Not a moment later, they all broke formation and ran--with the exception of Kettch, who kind of scuttled/shuffled/waddled--to their individual fighters, all of which had been prepped and warmed-up by Chief Sergeant Stalansky's ever-efficient Flight Crew.

Although Tish was still pissed at Rex and Heloi for the little stunt they had pulled on her--not even two hours ago!--she knew she had a job to do. And *finally*, after all of the boring and routine simulator 'rides: this was the *real* thing! Well, it *wasn't* a dog-fight...but it was better than nothing. Plus, there were plenty of asteroids in the Lhoranth Belt to take her angst out on.

She chuckled to herself as she imagined what Cassius must have thought about her "proposition". Truly, she really did hope that he'd be willing to come along with her, to search for the U.S.S. Hellfire.

**And why is that? Are you attra...** with the flick of an antenna, T'Shani quickly banished *that* thought. ~No, he's the XO, for Umarin's sake!~ No, she needed him because, like-it-or not, he had viable contacts from his spy days that could come-in very handy during the mission. Quickly, though, she banished all of those thoughts away, instead focusing on the task-at-hand.

Her blue-blood flowed quicker with anticipation as she momentarily stopped to help her wingman Sanoe--"Sunshine"--get her PLSS attached to the receptacle on her flight suit.

"Hey, leave me the hell alone," Sanoe said, swatting the other woman away, "God, I can do it myself!"

T'Shani's antennae folded back down on her head, but, in an amazing display of self control - at least, that's what Corran tthought - she didn't rip the younger pilots arms off. Not wise to antagonise an Andorian, Sunshine, he thought to himself, then chuckled as he thought of his own encoutner with the blue-skinned pilot earlier that day.

"Bitch," Sanoe murmured under her breath as she hooked herself up and ran beginning systems checks. "Always treating me like some stupid kid." She glared at her wingman. "Prejudice, racist skank." She shook her head. "Vanguard Four, good to go," she stated, into the communications.

Lowering himself into the cockpit, Corran checked next to im to find that Tainer had actually beat him to it already - the kid was ready to launch before he was, and grinning like an idiot about it.

"Smartass." Corran muttered to himself, and pulled down the transparisteel canopy. Not even a full minute later, Vanguards One and Two were out into the black, after going through the launching rigamarole. The small Bonzai-Class fighters zoomed out into space, the asteroid field not far ahead.

Next out were Vanguard's Three and Four--Tish and Sanoe.

Pressing one of the myriad buttons on his panels, Lieutenant Rex activated the all-squadron comm frequency. ["Allright, Vanguards. The asteroid belt's dead ahead. Break by flights. First wing-pair to find the Pallas Athena gets an extra weekend's worth of leave of the next shore leave. Leader Out."]

The TAC-COMM lit up briefly with chatter as the Vanguard pilots gave a well-felt comment on *that* subject. Especially Angelienia, who *offered* a prize of her own, in return...

~Figures~ Tish thought absently as she remembered the rumors--most likely false--that Angelienia, herself, had boasted of.

["Copy Lead. Forgehammer breaking left,"] Tish said as she banked hard: around, down, and under a huge, tumbling asteroid that was as big as the Galaxy, herself; hoping that the 'Kid' would stay on her tail and not fuck-up...

Nani followed her wingman, shaking her head and muttering in Hawaiian. God, she hated that woman. Passionately. Loathed her. Probably as much as 'Tish' loathed her. They just didn't click. Hadn't since day one. Sanoe despised Tish because the woman treated her like a stupid, inept, blind little kitten, and Tish despised Sanoe for reasons still unknown. Frankly, Sanoe didn't even want to know. She made a mental note to talk to Rex about it. This just wouldn't do. There just wasn't any energy between the two of them. Sanoe felt like she was being led around by her nose, and Tish felt like she was doing the leading. It was either transfer or beat-down time.

Tish switched-on her HUDD and anti-collision sensors. Then, addressing Nani:

["Sunshine, standby to activate side-scanning sensors. Set 'Max-Q' to ten, HI-RES to DP-Standard Penetration. Standby to launch S/R Drones on my mark,"] she said as she toggled the appropriate switches and waited for Nani's reply.

"I gotcha Forgehammer, ready for your mark," Sanoe replied, wrinkling her nose. This was fun -- she hadn't piloted in an asteroid belt for quite some time, it was nice to be back in the saddle again, doing something other than dodging phaser blasts.

Corran had to admit, he'd always loved the challenge of flying in an asteroid field - there was always so much going on that it was always a test of any pilot's skill. ["Leader to Two. Let's tackle Search Grid 001. Three and Four, you go for 002."]

["On your wing, Lead."] came Kell's young voice.

["Forgehammer acknowledges."] came Tish's voice, quickly followed by Sunchine's acknowledgement as well.

Scanners activated, Corran's fighter - quickly and carefully followed by Tainer's - rose up over a massive asteroid that was the size of a very small moon, and skimmed over it's surface. When he broke the horizon on it, the Trill was suprised to find that the field seemed to be much, much larger than the prelim scans had suggested. This search might end up taking a while.

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

In actuality, it only took about twenty minutes. Putting the juice on his impulse engines, Rex and Tainer sped through an narrowly avoided being smashed between two large asteroids. And...

"There she is." Corran whispered, seeking the wreckage of the Excelsior II Class starship ahead of him. "Vanguard Leader to Vanguard Squadron. All fighters, break off our search and report to grid 062. We've found the Pallas Athena."

Various acknowledgements came back over the comms, but leader of vanguard Squadron wasn't paying any attention. Seeing the Pallas Athena brought back memories from his past host Baledra - one of the first Trills in Starfleet, and one who'd been Chief Engineer of the Excelsior herself. Seeing the Pallas Athena was like seeing a ghost from the past - literally, given the ship's state.

"Two, keep a watch position. I'm going in for a closer look."

["Yes sir."]

Focusing his scanners, Rex brought his fighter down close enough to skim the hull of the old Federation starship, close enough to see the chips in the paint on the hull once he slowed down for a leisurely pass.

"Vanguard One to USS Galaxy. Galaxy, We've found the Pallas Athena. I'm transmitting course data now."

Cass Henderson, the Galaxy's XO, was the one who's voice came back over the comm. ["What've you got, Lieutenant?"]

"She's in bad shape, Commander." Vanguard One replied. "Ship's taken a lot of damage - Romulan type IX disruptors from the burn signatures on the hull. There's some power still in her, But engines are definitely offline. Whole lot of hull breaches. I can't get a solid lock on any life signs. Do you want us to try to board her?"

["Not just yet, Lieutenant. Establish a defensive perimeter, and then sit tight and wait till we get there."] Henderson's voice came back, crackling with subspace interference.

"Acknowledged, Galaxy Vanguard One out." he replied, and switched back to the squadron frequency "Everybody got that?"

["We hear and comply."] Came Kettch's squeaky voice, the first to acknowledge.

"Well allright then. Defensive sphere Omega-Nine." rex ordered, and moved his own fighter into position. Then he followed orders.. and waited.

NRPG: The long awaited (or perhaps not) continuation of the Karyn/Victor/Curran subplot. Sorry it took so long to send it out, but I do hope people like it. The plan is to have these issues come up again in future plots. Two more posts are coming as well. ~Lori

"The Pendulum Swings... Counter-Clockwise, Part Two"

Principal Characters:

Legate Kylar Curran

Commander Karyn Dallas, RN

Dr. T'lan

Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff

*******

USS Galaxy
Deck 7
Victor Krieghoff's Quarters

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

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

He clenched his jaw and hesitated as he held her head in his arms. Flashes of imagery passed before him, and he stumbled back on his haunches. He threw an arm up to block them from assailing him. A cold body laying on ceramics, Karyn Dallas' pleading face, a low grumble in his chest, scarlet smears on the walls, streaks on the floor. He saw his hands covered in blood. The whiteness overlaid on top of the dim room, flashing on and off in a dazzle of frames. He smelt... sweat... and something else...

"What are you doing to me, Dallas??" He lunged out towards the body lying on the floor and wrapped his hands around her neck. "What... have... you... done... to... me?!"

Her eyes grew wide at the sudden change of events, but she had absolutely no strength or time with which to react. Her last thoughts were of the man who had ended her life and just how stupid she had been.

The 'shush' of the door opening was followed by a fractional second's hesitation as Dr. T'lan saw the tableau in front of her, processed the three most likely responses, discarded them as too time consuming as she took three steps forward, and finally chose the simplest option. She dropped her hand onto the Legate's shoulder and clamped down on the nerve bundles at the base of his neck.

The Kelvan stiffened, and then went limp, his hands relaxing and falling away from Karyn's throat. T'lan hoisted Kylar up by his tunic and unceremoniously dumped him to one side as she reached for Dallas with a scanner to determine the extent of her injuries.

As the small device warbled, the Vulcan's eyes moved across the scene, reevaluating her initial impression that Curran and Krieghoff had fought, with Krieghoff defending Dallas from the Kelvan, when she saw the hypo next to the unconscious security officer. The situation was more complicated than she'd thought.

He scan complete, she adjusted her hypo and gave Karyn a series of injections for the pain and tissue damage and a mild stimulant to bring her around enough to answer the questions she needed answered.

Karyn's eyes fluttered open slowly, but as soon as she caught sight of T'lan's dark eyes, she awoke with a startled scream; unsure of who it was she was looking at. Her vision blurry, she wasn't even sure where she was, and when she jerked her head to look away, she groaned when she realized she was still in Victor's quarters. Staccato sobs soon followed.

"Counselor," T'lan said calmly, but with just enough firmness to penetrate to Karyn, "you are safe now. No one will hurt you. But I need you to help me. Can you do that?"

Karyn slowly turned her head, and allowed her vision to solidify. She was in too much shock to feel embarrassed by her mistake. She swallowed hard, fighting panic. "I...I think so." Her voice was unrecognizable even to her own ears.

"Concentrate on the sound of my voice, Counselor. I need to ask you just a few questions, and then I will transport us to a private room in Sickbay. No one besides myself will see you like this. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she gasped out, nearly choking on a sob. She took a moment to collect herself and put her hand to her forehead, trying to recall what had happened. She jerked it away when she felt and saw blood on her hand. Her eyes filled with tears, but she would not let them fall. Her voice quivered with every syllable. "Um...I...I'm...not sure I can recall much. Vic...Victor and I...we were talking about...the pheromones, and the next thing I know..." Her eyes clouded and tears began to fall. "He was on me. I couldn't get him off of me." She frowned, "I kept blacking out, but I think I grabbed something and knocked him unconscious. And then Legate Curran was there, and he was...was choking me. I thought...I thought he was going to kill me..." The last was spoken in a whisper and more hitching sobs.

"Lieutenant Krieghoff is unconscious," T'lan confirmed. "You appear to have tranquilized him with a hypo. I rendered the Legate unconscious when I entered and found him choking you. Neither of them will hurt you, now. I will not permit it. Do you understand that? They will not hurt you again."

This seemed to bring her up short, though she wasn't finding the comfort in it that T'lan intended. "I won't survive it." was her disoriented reply.

"You are still in your chair, Commander. Did either of them remove you from it?"

She closed her eyes against the pain. "I...I don't think so. I think Victor tried, but failed."

"But you are not certain?"

Karyn mentally reached into the depths of her memory and tried to recall what had happened to her, but could not think of much besides the pain she was in. Her head was pounding and she felt sick to her stomach. She shook her head which made her dizzy, she thought she had a concussion. "I can't be certain of anything. I know I blacked out. I'm not sure for how long."

T'lan nodded. "Then I will need to examine you once we reach Sickbay in order to eliminate the possibility that something was done to you while you were unconscious. Again, I tell you that no one will see you like this but me, and no one will treat or examine you but me. Do you understand, Commander? The possibility must be considered and proved or disproved given the severity of the potential results."

Karyn frowned. "The possibility of what, Doctor?" Her voice came out as a croak. Honest to gods, T'lan's words were not getting through. She would remember that sense of naiveté for a long time afterward. She would wonder if in fact if it was a return to childish protections.

T'lan's voice continued calmly, albeit somewhat more quietly. "The possibility that one of them, did, in fact, assault you in the manner prompted by the android's pheromone production, Counselor."

It took a moment for all of that to sink in, and when it did, she could not speak for what seemed an eternity. She would open her mouth to speak and nothing would come out. Inwardly she was screaming. "You... you think I was... raped?"

Crumpled in a heap on the carpeting near the two officers, the Kelvan's eyes fluttered to life. His neck was stiff as inflexible duranium, and he couldn't move without serious pain.

"Don't believe her lies." He rallied against the pain enough to give pause to the Vulcan nearby who was examining the counselor. His voice came out as a harsh whisper to keep the resonance to a minimum.

"Considering the Counselor's condition, Legate, I compute the possibility that she has lied to me to be insignificant thus far," T'lan countered without looking up.

"This is her fault. She is using deceit and trickery for some unknown purpose." He felt his fingers begin to wiggle. Whatever hit him was wearing off.

"I fail to see what she would accomplish by allowing you and the Lieutenant to do this to her, Legate." The Vulcan paused. "The pain will diminish faster if you cease fighting it, Legate. I will attend to you in a moment." She looked down at Karyn. "To answer your question, Counselor, no I do not believe that you were assaulted in that manner. Given your positioning, your state of dress, and the condition of the Lieutenant, the chances of such a thing having happened are barely worth mentioning. The possibility must, however, be eliminated, so that you may be treated properly."

Karyn nodded, closing her eyes against the possibility. A single tear made its way down her cheek. When she opened her eyes again, they were filled with the weariness of someone who knew better. Again, she could barely speak above a whisper. "I know that was what he intended, Doctor, and I know that because I was unconscious, you don't know what the hell happened for sure, do you?" She swallowed hard. "If I was unconscious, there would be no need for force, correct? And therefore no signs of force..."

"There would still be signs, Counselor, you know that as well as I," the Vulcan countered.

Laying nearby, Curran still couldn't prolong the feeling of helplessness and déjà vu. He'd been in this situation before, and could almost see it. The memory flashbacks that surged through him before had ebbed away, with only the rare imprint coming to the surface.

But this was different. This felt real. He'd been in this situation before, and the thought of where just hovered out of reach from him. He struggled to rise, but his body felt like lead. He could move, but only with the speed of one under the weight of at least 5 G's.

"There is no sense helping her, Vulcan. She's a detriment to this ship and its efficiency. She brought about this violence. It is her fault for it. Don't let your vaulted logic block itself from the levels of human ingenuity to cover up faults. Suppressing your emotions does not mean you understand them. Try to see past that, and the truth will reveal itself." The urge to lie down fell on him, but not near this parasite of a human.

Karyn was hardly listening anymore. She knew her injuries were life threatening and if she stayed here much longer, she would die. Why was he doing this to her? What could he possibly hope to gain by hurting her like this? This was her fault?

Dallas slowly turned her head in the Kelvan's direction, she could barely make him out. One eye was completely swollen shut and vision was blurry in the other. She tasted copper in her mouth and her tongue felt swollen three times its normal size. "Is that a confession, Legate?"

"A confession to what? That you don't qualify for your position on this vessel and as Second Officer? I believe I've already recorded that grievance, Commander. There is no need to rehash that. It is common knowledge. If that is the confession you are looking for, it is too late for it."

Karyn smiled grimly. "Did you decide to have your way with me, Legate? Huh? Figure you'd humiliate me while there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it? I bet you'd like that. Did you re-gain control of me, Legate, hm? Try to kill me to cover up the evidence?"

T'lan continued to monitor her scanner, but kept her attention divided so she could also watch the Legate for any sudden movements.

"If I'd have had my way with you, Counselor, you'd be dead. Humiliation is something I leave in your more than capable hands. You managed to humiliate the entire Federation; you don't need my assistance."

Her vision was going grayer by the moment. She looked T'lan in the eyes, pleading. "We need to go, NOW."

"Oh, yes, go, Doctor. Counselor. Run away so she can think about her story to tell." He'd regained enough in his legs for feeling to be able to get up and walk. T'Lan kept a steady focus on him to be wary of sudden movement.

"Remember, Counselor, *I* am the law on this ship. If you are going to bring this situation up and into the open by carrying on with your lies, you will be laying charge against a representative of the Federation in the matter. I do hope you are prepared for that." He dragged his heels to the exit.

"Now, if you don't mind, I have to get this horrible stench of Terran off me."

"You should know, Legate," T'lan said as she reached up to tap her combadge, "that I have scans of the room, its contents, and the positions of its occupants as I entered. Whether or not you assaulted her in that manner, you certainly were assaulting her in another. Should she choose to press charges, as I will recommend she do, you will find it difficult to explain yourself. I suggest you consider that while you are making your way to your quarters." The Vulcan reached out and dropped a transporter tag on Victor's unconscious form and another on Karyn. =/\= T'lan to Transporter Room. Three for a site to-site transfer to Sickbay. Myself and Tag 714 to Quarantine Room Three, Tag 715 to Quarantine Room Four. =/\=

A wash of transporter particles covered the three, leaving Kylar alone in the room.

"Maybe so, T'Lan, but you just made yourself an uncreditable witness leaving an injured Federation Officer behind." And making it appear you have chosen Dallas' statement to be true, Curran thought. He hurriedly exited the quarters, just in case Security had been called.

He'd be sure to check the Security logs. If no one appeared here in the next several minutes, or even came to question him within the hour, then whatever the Vulcan says will never hold. Not very responsible of her to leave an 'attacker' behind alone without Security escort.

****

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

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

"The Morning After The Night Before, Part One"

Commander Karyn Dallas, RN
Chief Counselor/Second Officer

Ensign Anya Ivanovna [Written by Kate]
Medical Officer
USS Galaxy - A

"Please state your name." She knew the request was coming even before it was asked. It always came first in these situations.

"Karyn Elizabeth Dallas." She made sure to enunciate her words for the record. The computer would be recording her every word for part one of the 'forensic exam.'

Funny how those words made her sound like a corpse. It certainly matched how she felt. What little pain medication they felt comfortable giving her prior to the exam made her groggy. She felt almost like she had before she had been found, but she was just aware enough to know what was going on.

"Please give your security code. This certifies that I have told you what to expect from this forensic exam and that you consent to this exam freely, with the understanding that you are not obligated to file a complaint with ship's security should this exam yield evidence of an assault." What a mouthful! On the rare occasion that Karyn had had to impart this information, Dallas always chose to paraphrase it. This girl had to be new.

"Dallas-alpha-seven." The computer beeped in acknowledgement. This was really happening.

"Karyn, have you brushed your teeth, bathed, or relieved yourself since the assault?"

"No." Another anticipated question followed by a robotic response.

"Have you had consensual sexual intercourse within the past seventy-two hours?"

"No."

"Are you currently on birth control?"

She was startled. Clearly this question had caught her off guard. Karyn knew it shouldn't have, but it did. "I never needed to be..." she whispered quietly. "No, I'm not currently on birth control."

Ensign Anya Ivanovna raised her eyes from the padd. Most women of Karyn's age were, nowadays, unless there was allergy or extreme religious objections. She took a deep breath, this made it so much more complicated. "Are you and a partner trying to get pregnant?" she questioned. "Because it is now procedure for me to administer birth control unless there are extreme religious or moral objections to it."

Karyn simply shook her head. She never thought she would have to face this situation and so was wholly unprepared for it. She considered herself to be Episcopalian and against abortion, but my God, could she refuse under these circumstances? She felt sick. Birth control at this point would amount to an abortion. "I don't have a partner, which is why I'm not on anything, but I'm Episcopalian, Doctor, and against abortion."

Anya sighed softly. That complicated things. "I cannot force you into this, it is a personal decision. But if we do find evidence of rape, I would strongly encourage it before a pregnancy would be able to take hold. Now is the time to deal with it and decide if you really want to risk a rape-related pregnancy."

She sighed, swallowed hard and closed her eyes. "Doctor, right now you can't even tell me if a rape took place, can you? Just finish the exam and then I will decide what I will have to do. There's not a damn thing about this I *wanted* to risk."

"Alright, I'm going to do a topical examination first. I am going to have to take photographs of any lesions on your skin, including bruising and scratches. Afterwards, I am going to have to conduct a rape kit; I will have to do a swab of the vaginal area, take fingernail clippings, blood and hair samples, and conduct a thorough scan. I will also need to use black-light photography to look for any fingerprint he has left on your skin." Anya paused a moment. "Do you understand and consent to the procedure?"

Dallas hadn't realized she was biting her lip until she went to reply and tasted blood. "Yes. I've given this speech." she muttered. And she had... Rose, Electra, Ronni. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She couldn't begin to process what it was like on this side of the biobed. This just couldn't be happening to her. She couldn't possibly find anything, could she?

Anya carefully set to work, ensuring that the curtains were firmly closed before she bagged Karyn's clothing and slipped on her gloves before beginning to take the photographs. She concentrated on the severe bruising around Karyn's legs and her hips, which only seemed to darken as time went on. On one hand, it could have been from her chair toppling over, on the other, it could have been from harsh hands. Karyn had not said who had done this, but whomever it was, they were large and strong for sure.

"I know how hard this is," Anya said, "I've been on that side of the table too." She snapped the first photograph.

Karyn was no longer looking directly at anything. Her eyes remained fixed on the ceiling until the snap of the camera jolted her. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I've been on that side of the table too," Anya replied. "Three years ago, when I was nineteen, I was raped by a fellow cadet. We grew up together, in Moscova, and he was having a difficult time adjusting to the academy. He was thinking about dropping out when things hadn't gotten better in the second year, and I went up to see how he was doing. He was pretty drunk, and he attacked me. I thought I could make it better by staying, but that just hurt both of us."

Anya, what are you doing? she chided herself. This isn't about you and it isn't your place.

She took another photograph, then a third, then a fourth in quick succession around the Commander's pelvic area. There was a large scrape on the left hip, and she took a fifth of that; there was a small piece of hair in the blood there, which she would collect during the extensive body comb.

"I'm so sorry." Dallas replied, forgetting where she was for the briefest of moments. "Did you report him?"

Anya shook her head, catching her voice. "No," she said, "I didn't want to hurt him more. I thought it was my fault, because I couldn't just leave him alone; because I insisted on being there even though he told me he didn't want to see me. And I was embarrassed too, for not being able to defend myself, from not being able to keep it from happening. I... I didn't even go in for a medical check until three days later, and by then, there wasn't any evidence available, even if I'd wanted to. Which..." She shook her head. "I wish I had though. Reported him. Even though I think it would have helped him more than me." She finished the photographs and put the camera down on the table. "Do you need a minute before I do the black light?" Anya asked, resting a hand gently on Karyn's shoulder's, meeting the other woman's eyes.

Karyn couldn't even look at her, especially once the tears began to well. Wasn't that exactly what she was doing? Protecting Victor because she didn't want to hurt him? He hadn't wanted her there and she had gone anyway. She sure as hell hadn't been able to stop him, and she knew that added insult to bloody injury. She realized Anya was talking to her. Dallas wiped at her eyes, snifled once, and shook her head. "Let's just do this." She tried to smile wanly. "No sense prolonging the suspense."

"I'm going to turn off the regular lights now. I will use a special camera that will take photographs of any fingers prints revealed by black light and upload them into the computer. The prints will then be analysed and matched. I am turning off the lights now." She did so and illuminated the light attached to the camera. "Karyn, close your eyes; I need to get your face first." She cast it over the woman's face, finding a few smudged prints on her cheeks, on her neck, and she moved down from there. None of those that she found were in particularly good condition, but there were actually more than she thought there would be. Even given the fact that 90% of them would be the woman's own fingerprints, there was a good chance there would be prints from the attacker. "Okay Karyn," Anya said, turning off the camera. "I'm going to turn on the lights and conduct the rape kit now. I'm going to be collecting hair and fiber samples, and do the vaginal swab and examination. It's going to be very uncomfortable; if you feel any pain, tell me so I can stop."

Somewhere along the line, she had begun to shiver. Trembling naturally aggravated the pain she felt and frustrated her more. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she fought to prevent the hitching sobs threatening to overwhelm her. Karyn knew if she started crying, she might never stop. She tried to inhale and realized her nose was stuffed. She put her hand up to her mouth as if to ward off another sob, closed her eyes and replied, "You're going to have to help me with the stirrups." She opened her eyes and exhaled slowly.

"Of course," Anya replied softly, finishing the topical examination, slipping the final fibers into the small evidence bags. She then drapped the shivering woman with a thermal sheet before helping her into the position. Fighting her own memories raging through her consciousness, Anya concentrated on the task at hand, trying to look at it as a medical school test; as something not real in the least. It was just a test, just an exercise.

What was it she always told people to picture during this part of the exam? Beaches? The stars? It was all Karyn could do to keep from crying out, from tensing so much the exam would be impossible to complete. A stomach cramp more painful than any she'd ever experienced settled in her lower abdomen and refused to leave her until the pelvic was completed.

"Almost done, Karyn." called Anya.

Deep breaths barely staved off the panic, and the tension made her eyes water.

She finished quickly, finding nothing specific. Perhaps he'd used protection; perhaps nothing had happened. There was no bruising around the immediate area, nor was there any other evidence of intercourse. That might be because it hadn't happened, or it might be because of Karyn's unconsciousness. It was hard to struggle when one was unconscious.

Anya helped Karyn into a more comfortable position after the examination, and returned to the woman's shoulder. "Do you have any other concerns? If not, I am going to run the dermal regenerator and take care of these lesions. Then I'll get you a change of clothes. You are free to stay here as long as you need to. If you have any problems or questions, you can talk to me, or I can get you a counselor if you would feel more comfortable with that."

Anya had very gently eased her into a sitting position and her legs were now dangling off the side of the biobed. The sudden change of position and her concussion made her disoriented and nauseated, so she took a moment to orient herself. "Thank you, Doctor," she whispered. "I'm assuming you need blood from me?" She cleared her throat and forced herself to utter the words. "In case he...gave me somethiing worse than a baby."

"Yes. And I'll be injecting you with some strong antibiotics to counteract known, transmitable viruses. If he's serving upon this ship, I doubt there is much cause to worry, we keep medical records, particularly of that nature, very up to date. But better safe than sorry. Are you hanging in there, okay, Karyn?" Anya was supporting the woman with a strong hand to her upper back, essentially holding her up. "Don't be embarrassed, this is natural, particularly in respect to the injuries you sustained. I'm going to save the blood and antibiotics for last, so you can lay down. Sometimes people get a little queezie afterward. I'll also need to better treat you for your concussion. We'll be keeping you over night. I know it's a lot to digest right now. Just take it easy. Can you sit up on your own now?"

"I..." she exhaled, "I think so, I'm dizzy." she added. "I'm waiting for it to pass." She kept her head down and her eyes closed. "Tell me, Doctor, was I raped?"

"I don't know," Anya admitted. "I can't tell. Honestly, I don't think so, but I cannot be sure one way or the other. You were physically asaulted within an inch of your life, Karyn, even without rape that is very serious. And even without a rape, it is very evident that is the direction the assault was taking." Anya paused. "I'm going to withdraw my hand and start patching you up now. If at any time you feel you need to lay down, let me know."

She felt all the remaining color drain from her face. "You don't know." she echoed. What the hell kind of answer was I don't know? Didn't she get it? She swallowed hard. "I think I might be sick. I...I need to lie down." Her head swam, and her limbs tingled.

"Okay, I'm going to support you Karyn, I want you to put your head between your knees and take slow, deep breaths, okay, concentrate on my voice and your breathing... just take slow, deep breaths, in and out, clear your mind..."

She did as she was told, but nearly laughed aloud. Clear her head? Images came unbidden, images much worse than anything she remembered him doing. All of it was possible, all of it. "I really thought... I really thought you'd tell me nothing happened, you know? I just, I just can't believe it." She looked up at her then and regained some of the control she'd lost. Her voice steadied. "Let's wrap this up, Doctor."

"If you need me to stop, let me know; I want this to be as comfortable as possible," Anya said, slowly moving her hands away, making sure the other woman was steady before she took up her tools and began to heel the burises, cuts, and scrapes decorating Karyn's skin. "As, ah... as someone who's been there before, Karyn, I would recommend talking to someone about what has happened to you. I would recommend it even if there was conclusive evidence to say there hadn't been intercourse. Simply because it's so traumatic. You feel as though all your power has been taken away, I understand, and... you should talk to someone about what you're feeling. They can really help."

Dallas turned her head slowly so as not to aggravate her injuries or interrupt the healing process. She was about to tell her who she was, and then thought better of it. Why open that can of worms? She simply nodded. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you..." A moment later she said, "Earlier you said this," and she gestured vaguely, "might have helped him more than you. Why do you say that?"

Anya took a slow, deep breath. She hadn't allowed herself to think of Alexi for so long now. "Because, if I had reported him, it would have forced him to confront his own demons. He would have had to get help, and he wouldn't have self-destructed. He wasn't a bad guy. He just had problems. And if I'd reported him, he would have been forced to deal with them sooner than he was, and perhaps he wouldn't have gotten into worse trouble later on."

"But you don't understand," she replied, "Victor...he didn't mean to do this. He wasn't even all that aware of what he was doing to me. He was under the influence of the damn pheromones and just simply couldn't control himself. He's not to blame for this. Not really. I'd have no reason to report him, even if I wanted to."

"I said the same thing about Alexi," Anya replied. "He didn't mean it, he wasn't aware; it was the stress and the pressure from his family who made him drink, and it was the drink that made him do what he did; he didn't even remember in the morning, the next day. And it was true. But it was his choice to deal with it as he had; to drink, to let the anger out while he was drunk, directed toward me. And for Alexi, he discovered that it worked. And he used it as an excuse again. But toward another woman, and he ended up killing her." Anya took a deep breath. "And maybe that won't happen with your... Victor. But maybe it will. There's always some amount of control, even in strange circumstances. He could have stopped himself. Or he could not have let you get into the situation. But he did. Just like Alexi allowed me to and allowed the next woman to." Anya's voice had progressively become softer, and now she was no longer looking at Karyn, rather focusing on the bruise on the woman's inner thigh. "You have every reason to report him. Especially because, in cases like this, the best of intentions often fail. Afterall, that's how you got into this in the first place."

That brought her up short, and the anger came bubbling forth. "No, dammit, I got into this because I didn't bother to think. I had been trapped in my quarters for days because of some stupid allergic reaction and instead of stopping to understand the situation, I went barreling in like I always do. Alexi chose to drink, Anya, but Victor, he didn't choose to be exposed to those pheromones, she came knocking on his door. And he didn't stop it, he tried, but it wasn't good enough! I wish to God it was! But it wasn't! *I* wasn't! What would you have me do? Punish him for something neither one of us could prevent?" She hadn't realized she'd been screaming, and once she had, she was mortified.

She took a few deep breaths and when she trusted herself to speak, she replied, "Look, I'm sorry. But you and I... We're not at all the same, ok? I just need to go home."

"You're not going to be able to go home tonight, Karyn, you know that; not with your concussion," Anya replied. "And you can think what you want. I hope that you can come to terms with this and realize that it's not your fault."

She tried to keep her voice steady, to keep herself from bristling. But frankly, Anya was angry at Karyn Dallas, angry for her refusal to stand up forself, angry for her determination to make the same mistakes Anya had and many, many other women before her. Anya didn't care what they said about a society of equality, it was rediculous; when women were in such a position as to be second officer of one of the most impressive ships in the fleet, she had to stand up for herself.

"I'm going to draw the blood now and give you an antibiotic injection. Then you'll need to change into the scrubs laid out for you and lay down. Don't bother arguing."

Had she forgotten she couldn't leave? Her concentration was shot to hell. "Fine." she replied with a sigh of frustration. "But I'll need you to contact Julia Monsoon, she's my personal assistant who helps me to dress and such. She'll worry if I don't come home tonight." Gods, what would Julia say? What would she tell Adrian?

"I will," Anya said, giving her the injection directly following the blood withdrawal. "I will do that now. If you need anything, let me know." Anya smiled softly and handed Karyn her the folded scrubs. "Good night."

With that, she backed carefully out of the private room, leaving Karyn there, alone.

****

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

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

"The Morning After The Night Before, Part Two"

Principal Characters:
Commander Karyn Dallas, RN,
Chief Counselor/Second Officer

Julia Monsoon
Karyn's Personal Aide

Dr. T'lan
Medical Officer
USS Galaxy - A

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 12
Sickbay

"Where the hell is she?" demanded an all too familiar British personal assistant, mere yards from the private room which housed her lone charge.

*Julia's here.* thought Karyn wryly as she watched the chronometer strike 0800, the time Dallas was slated for release from sickbay.

She focused her attention on her feet dangling off the biobed and smiled apologetically to the nurse currently helping her remain upright. They had to make sure Julia could transfer her in and out of her chair without assistance. Given Karyn's sprained wrist, concussion, and overall physical discomfort, this would prove challenging.

Despite the excellent care she'd received, it would take another couple of days before she'd be feeling like herself again. The bruises were beginning to fade and the scrapes were no longer visible, but she was still quite sore and unsteady on her feet from her pulled back muscles and concussion. The most obvious injuries remained her swollen left eye and nose. The eye was open now and responding to stimuli, but her vision remained a bit blurry and the skin black. Karyn would have to see the ophthalmologist at a later date to make sure things had healed properly.

Mentally, she counted the seconds until Julia would come bounding through the doors, face etched with worry and anger about being left in the dark, and she frowned when the moment didn't come when she'd expected. Finally the door swished open, and Karyn knew instantly what had happened. Monsoon had needed a moment to put on a happy, calm face.

Karyn knew immediately it was false, and she watched as Julia's face fell and tears sprang to her eyes upon seeing Karyn for the first time. Hearing Jules' breath catch on a strangled sob brought home just how upsetting this was.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what have they done?" she muttered, rushing to embrace Dallas, who winced slightly at the mere force of the embrace.

"Careful," the counselor admonished gently, taking a moment to swallow the lump in her throat. "If you think this is bad, you should have seen the before holos. *Or the other guy,* Karyn thought grimly.

Julia pulled back and muttered an apology, and effectively pushed the nurse from her position of physical supporter. "Thanks, hun, I got this." she added in her thick British accent. The nurse moved out of the way, but made no effort to leave the room.

Karyn looked at the fellow RN apologetically. Julia was fiercely protective of Karyn, having cared for her ever since she'd joined Starfleet. Monsoon deftly picked up the PADD containing Karyn's chart with the other hand, started reading it, and sighed impatiently. "I don't know what the hell we're waiting for, I can take care of a few bruises...I..."

Monsoon gasped, and this time, the sob escaped. When she looked up at Karyn, her eyes were filled with disbelief. She was stopped cold by two words: rape kit. Julia looked from Karyn to the nurse and from the nurse to Karyn. She realized then that her hands were shaking and she quickly hid them from Karyn's sight.

Karyn wanted to say something to reassure her, to tell her things were fine, that it was just a precaution... But Anya's words came back to her and the uncertainty stuck in her throat. They couldn't be certain.

"I brought you some clothes," Monsoon said, sounding very far away, almost mechanical, "I thought yours were just..." She was going to say "dirty" but thought better of it. "I brought you some clothes." she repeated.

Before Karyn could reply, the door swished open and Dr. T'lan entered.

"Counselor Dallas. Nurse Monsoon." T'lan greeted the two women coolly, and gave a nod to the staff nurse, who departed. The Vulcan stopped at the side of the bed and set her PADD down. "I have found it to be beneficial when dealing with patients who are, themselves, medical personnel, to conduct a final review before discharging them. It minimizes the opportunities for self-diagnosis and alteration of the prescribed treatment regimen by 17.65%."

Julia regarded the Vulcan doctor coolly. She would have said something further, but she didn't want to upset Karyn. "By all means, Doctor." Karyn simply turned her attention to the Vulcan. A part of her was grateful for the emotionless delivery.

"First, your medication." T'lan withdrew a container from her lab coat and presented it to Monsoon. "The Counselor receives one of these for pain every twelve hours. She requires food with the medication. The only side-effect she should experience is a slightly decreased appetite. If any other symptoms appear, discontinue the medication and contact me immediately. She will need to take all the medication provided. If the pain persists after the end of the medication, contact me immediately."

"Understood," Karyn and Julia answered simultaneously. Karyn was a bit annoyed at being treated like she wasn't in the room, but for Julia, it was like talking to a colleague. "What about a sedative? I think she might need something to help her sleep, don't you think?"

Before T'lan could say anything in reply to Monsoon's question, Karyn interrupted. "*No,* I don't *want* a sedative, I don't *want* contraception, I just want to go home. I think I've made that point quite clear. Now, what else must I know before I can do that?"

"You should remember that the results from the kit were inconclusive, Counselor. There still exists a 9.6789 % chance that the result was a false negative. I will need to examine you again in forty-eight hours, and at that time I can eliminate the remaining margin of error. I have taken the liberty of placing this appointment on your schedule already."

She couldn't look Jules in the eye in that moment. Karyn wanted to ask how she would be able to determine in forty-eight hours what they couldn't determine now, but another part of her wanted to spare Jules and herself the details. Dallas felt Monsoon's trembling hand on her shoulder and shivered upon feeling the chill. Jules was afraid for Karyn, tentative. *Shit.* was all that came to mind when she realized the sudden change in interaction. This was definitely not what she wanted. "I understand, Doctor, thank you."

T'lan regarded her for a moment, as if deciding something. "I also recommend strongly that you take whatever steps are necessary to ensure that you are not alone or unescorted with either of the individuals involved in the incident for the foreseeable future. It seems... unwise."

Jules felt Karyn's entire body stiffen, and for a moment she thought Dallas was simply going to come unglued, blow her top like she usually did, but she didn't. And that scared the hell out of Julia Monsoon. Tears sprang to Karyn's eyes, angry tears that would be hidden by the limp auburn hair, curls long gone, hanging in her face. She refused to let the tears fall. It would be the first of many such suppressions to come. Karyn waited until she was in control of her emotions and then took that moment to tuck her hair behind her ear. When she spoke, it was with irony, bordering on self-reproach. "You don't have to worry, Doctor, I think I've learned my lesson on that score, don't you?"

Had she been looking in her direction, Karyn would have noticed that Monsoon's face had gone gray. Still she felt the need to salvage the moment. "Karyn, she didn't mean..."

"I don't need a translator, Julia." It was a quiet reply, a dismissal of sorts, but Jules knew Karyn too well. Dallas made a move to slide off the biobed but was overcome with a wave of dizziness. She swallowed hard, fighting the rising bile, and looked up at T'lan. "I trust I have spectrum wide antibiotics to take?"

The Vulcan, closer than Karyn remembered, nodded once as she steadied Karyn with a hand on her shoulder. "Yes. The antibiotics are cojoined with the pain medication so you will only require one set of medication to keep track of. Since you prefer not to take a sleeping aid, I suggest a long hot bath instead."

Karyn nodded. "I should have no trouble sleeping, Doctor, I...didn't get much sleep last night. Sleeping in my own bed should help tremendously." She offered a reassuring smile for Julia's sake and decided then there was no point in mentioning the nightmare which had kept her awake all night.

T'lan nodded. "There is one more thing, Counselor." She picked the PADD up and reversed it, handing it to Karyn. "I would like your signature on this."

Karyn took the PADD and had to re-read it twice before she could comprehend what it said before she could formulate a response. "A transfer request from the Medical Department to the Counseling Department?" Dallas frowned. Had they discussed this before? Karyn couldn't remember.

"I have already cleared it with Dr. Malgin, Counselor. It requires only your approval."

Karyn frowned and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to remember any conversation they might have had, but her memory remained fuzzy. She opened her blue eyes, but her vision remained blurry. "I didn't realize you were a licensed therapist. Forgive me, but have you and I talked about a transfer previously?"

"No, Counselor, we have not. I have considered it for some time, however. It seems… logical." She pointed to a line on the transfer. "You will notice that I have done what I can to make the transfer seamless by using Provisional Transfer Clause 346 - 24A in making the request. Should you decide that my talents are better suited elsewhere, you need do nothing but wait for the 90 day provisional period to expire and I will automatically rotate back to Medical. If you wish to retain me, you will need to complete Transfer Approval Form 346 - 25 at the end of the 90 day period. I have attached the form to the transfer for your convenience."

"Why?" Were she in a better frame of mind, she might have chalked things up to simple Vulcan arrogance, but as it was she was barely following the conversation.

"Because," T'lan began immediately, having apparently decided the question was logical to prepare for, "I find that simply healing a broken physical body offers no challenge to me now. Healing a broken mind and spirit, however, is a challenge. Surak taught us that to ignore a challenge is to fail to meet it, and that failure without striving for success is not logical."

Karyn simply nodded, her mind had wandered, and she wondered quietly whether Surak would think she had succeeded or failed today. After T'lan's comments, she wasn't sure she cared to know. "Report to Lt. Commander An'quinsos. He'll be filling in for me until I return."

The conversation was interrupted by an exaggerated clearing of the throat. What was this Doctor thinking? "If you're finished begging her for a job, Doctor, I'd like to take the Counselor home. Now, how shall I transfer her given her injuries?" The British nurse was clearly over it.

"Site-to-site transport," T'lan replied blandly as she positioned herself to assist Monsoon in getting Karyn to her feet. "I have already arranged it with Operations. There will be no official record of the transport, as there will be no official record of the Counselor's presence here."

Monsoon looked up in surprise, but it wasn't for reasons T'lan might expect. "You're not required to report this, Doctor? I would think in a situation like this you'd have to report this for the safety of the ship, I mean my God, these people have to be stopped... If someone could do this to Karyn..."

Dallas' hand on Julia's arm finally alerted her that Karyn was actually still in the room. Her grip was firm, but her voice was uncharacteristically soft. "I asked her not to, Jules. In this case, it wouldn't do any good. He didn't mean to do this Jules."

Monsoon looked at the counselor as if she'd grown a second head. "Oh well, that's just great, Karyn. Will you arrange a meeting with those responsible, hmm? Get them to give you a hug perhaps?"

Karyn's voice took on a harder edge. "You're not listening to me, Julia, the man primarily responsible was under the influence of Mudd's pheromones. He couldn't control himself, Victor-"

"VICTOR," Monsoon interrupted, wrenching her arm from Karyn's grasp. "That son of a bitch," she spat, "that son of a bitch. He's security for Christ sakes. I knew there was something wrong with him, everybody knows it. He acts like a damn predator, a caged animal. Did he threaten you? Is that why you won't report this? Because I swear, Karyn, I won't let you take this victim's status lying down..."

She turned to T'lan, still livid. "Did you or your people allow him to threaten her?"

T'lan regarded her with the annoyingly coolness that Vulcans greeted all human emotional outbursts. "The Counselor has been threatened by no one since she entered my care. That would be illogical, and counterproductive to the healing process." She raised an eyebrow at Monsoon. "Much the same as your outburst just now is. I have explained the logic of the situation to the Counselor, and it is her choice, given the circumstances, to not report the incident. I may disagree with her reasoning, but that is irrelevant - the choice is not mine to make." She glanced at Karyn. "You have not changed your mind, have you, Counselor?"

"No," Dallas replied quietly. As good as it might have felt to see Victor Krieghoff suffer, what good was there to come of it? She was still going to have to live and work on the Galaxy, what would be the point of bringing it all up for the rumor mill and ruining the reputation of a man who probably didn't know what he was doing? This was no one's fault, at least not the fault of anyone in reach.

Julia exhaled in frustration. "Fine."

Karyn looked up. "I'd like to go home now, Doctor."

”Very well,” T’lan nodded. “If,” she looked to Julia, “the Counselor has any difficulty that arises after you depart, I will continue to treat her off the record to resolve it. You need only contact me directly and I will take care of the rest. I am available at any point during the day or night for such a call.”

"Christ," Karyn swore forcefully, breathlessly, "I'm in the room! I'm in the bloody room! For God's sake, this is exactly what I didn't... Look, *I'll* call you if *I* need you."

Julia, being human, had the good sense to look appropriately chastized.

“Very well, then.” T’lan tapped her combadge. “Two to beam to Counselor Dallas’ quarters.” She stepped back and nodded once to the pair.

****

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

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

"Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?"

By
Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer

Lt. Commander James Corgan
Chief of Security

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

Guest Stars:
Rihannsu Ambassador Ramir Omar,
Junior Senator

Lt. jg Ahdjiia D'Tinya,
Security Officer

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Security Officer

Major Saladin Bolivar,
Chief Intelligence Officer

Boatswains Mate Melinda Tracy,
Shuttlebay Guidance Control

Atole Tekri,
Tal Shiar Officer

*****

Deck 13,
Center Pylon Junction,
Auxiliary Shuttle Bay 2
Shuttle Guidance Control

*****

From the smallish Shuttlebay observation balcony, Kylar Curran watched as the shuttle glided itself around the rear of the gargantuan Phase Cannon, swooping in under the nacelle in its descent towards the deck below.

Ambassador Omar, decked out in his best apparel befitting a member of the Senate, awaited the arrival on the deck plating below him, unaware the Kelvan was watching.

[Shuttle Fethraie requesting permission to dock] The curt tones of the pilot who was delivering the Tal Shiar officer betrayed no emotion. Strictly business.  Boatswain's Mate Melinda Tracy looked to the Liaison Officer from behind her guidance window, awaiting his signal. Kylar gave her a sharp nod to signify the grant.

"Shuttle Fethraie, you are cleared to land.  Disengage your engines, activate your magnetic moorings.  We'll guide you in."  The shuttle glided to a calm stop several meters outside the azure screen that kept out the fatal vacuum of space beyond.  Immediately, twin beams of lavender light emitted from the tractor emitters located on each side of the bay outside to connect with the shuttle.  It gently glided the arrival in.  Tracy gulped as she guided the former enemy ship into the home stretch.  As the moorings lined up, an audible click resonated throughout the bay.  The shuttle locked into its place on the deck plating and towed off to its berth aside.

Melinda let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.  She'd guided many a shuttle in, but never with the Diplomatic Officer in attendance, and certainly not for a Romulan Shuttle.  She searched for Curran to formally announce the arrival, but he was already gone.

This was one hell of a story to share with her bunkmates later off-shift. The life of a Boatswain's Mate was never excitable.

Kylar took the external exit to meet up with the rest of the 'welcoming committee' he knew were on their way or had already arrived below.

*****

Deck 13,
Center Pylon Junction,
Outside Auxiliary Shuttle Bay 2

*****

Curran found Corgan and company, tr'Khellian, and Bolivar waiting just outside as he'd expected.

"What quarters have you assigned the visitor, Major?"  Curran strode up to stand aside the Intelligence Officer as he held out the route they would take.

"I've assigned her quarters on Deck 9." The gruff genetically enhanced human traced a finger over the path they would take.  "Visiting delegates receive limited Level 2 data access clearance.  I've refined that to a further limitation.  Any access to Starfleet data will be flagged and analyzed.  All ship layout access will also be locked out.  She and Omar have access only to civilian locations only.  Any other requests will be simultaneously relayed to both our offices, with a tagged addendum to the Captain's daily access reports."

"Very good.  Are you prepared for meeting our guest, Sub-Commander?"

Savar nodded once. If he felt any nervousness at the imminent arrival of a Tal Shiar assassin, none of it was betrayed in his demeanour. He carried in his hands a bowl of scented water, and a soft cloth. "I am prepared, Legate."

"'Commander Corgan.  Lieutenant D'Tinya is to make the Sub-Commander her first priority.  Lieutenant Krieghoff will monitor Atole Tekri at all times." 

He focused on the two security officers in the preparations.  "Make sure you have those scanners operating on silent mode."  Back to Corgan. 

"You and I will entertain the Ambassador.  Any other questions from anyone?"

"No... that should cover it." Corgan tugged uncomfortably at his collar. Like the ambassador, the security staff was obliged to wear their white dress uniforms. The collar almost chafed as much as Kylar Curran's micromanagement.

Not appreciating the Ambassador's control of the situation, James could only hope for the best, and pray Curran's arrogance didn't get the better of him!

"Then let us meet our guest."  Kylar reached around and depressed the terminal that allowed them entrance into a whole new world.

"Romulan Roulette"

By
Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer

Lt. Commander James Corgan
Chief of Security

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

Rihannsu Ambassador Ramir Omar,
Junior Senator

Lt. jg Ahdjiia D'Tinya,
Security Officer

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Security Officer

Major Saladin Bolivar,
Chief Intelligence Officer

Guest Stars:
Atole Tekri,
Tal Shiar Officer

*****

Deck 13,
Center Pylon Junction,
Auxiliary Shuttle Bay 2

*****

The shuttlecraft completed its docking procedures, latching down to snuggle into its niche in the bay.

The dull green scout, a short-range ship, was devoid of markings save the symbol describing it as a diplomatic envoy. Its shape and form were unrecognizable if not for the close resemblance to the Scouts of the Dominion War past.

A hiss of air, and lines formed where none could be seen previously on the side of the craft. The hatch raised outwards, and steps fell through. A dark boot resonated on the dull metal step as a short thud, then, slowly, resolutely, a form emerged.

A female, attired in highly provocative clothing of the Northern Sector of ch'Rihan, was hardly a show of diplomacy. Even less of being a bodyguard. But then again, illusion and diversion were art forms finely honed by the Rihannsu.

"Greetings my lord. I am Atole Tekri." Her voice, soft, yet hardened by resolution, denoted confidence and power.

From Ramir's standpoint, the woman certainly did not seem to be a bodyguard. Her clothing was in great contrast when compared to the brown robes of a traditional senator. Her physique was streamlined, though it hardly appeared to be the physique of a warrior.

Tekri greeted him with a slight bow. He responded to her gesture by nodding to her.

"Are You Tal Shiar?" he asked of her, unshaken on the outside, but internally it was a different story. He was not so sure he liked or even believed in the reasons she was here.

"I Am Tal Shiar, Junior Senator. I am to survey the traitor for possible danger, amongst other reasons."

"What if the veruul is dangerous, then?" Omar suspiciously asked of her.

"Colonel Omar has not allowed for me to discuss that occurrence with you." Tekri very calmly stated to the senator. A smile tugged at the corner of her lip; thankfully her training kept the façade from showing through.

This was her first assignment. She could hardly fail her training. Since the decimation of the Tal Shiar at Cardassia, the need to replenish their numbers had been great, and training accelerated. The mental hardening curriculae had to be shortened in her graduating class, and the pressure to succeed increased. It wasn't uncommon for other classmates of hers to have gone 'missing' after a failed assignment. She had known one personally.

Hers was the first class to graduate the enhanced course, therefore under the most pressure to establish the status quo of the new order. She would not fail.

"Imirrhlhhse! (F***!)" The senator hissed at her. Tekri though did not flinch at his reaction to her statement.

"I am not allowed to discuss with you that occurrence."

"What are you allowed to discuss with me then?" Omar calmed himself. The senator greatly hated the fact that his father put his ambitions ahead of his only son. Though if the traitor were to be dealt with via his family then they would be put into the aristocracy.

"I shall have to nearly constantly accompany as your diplomatic attaché and especially when you are meeting with the traitor."

"What?" Omar was not going to be spoken to with that tone! "Get out of..."

The sentence was very abruptly ended with the arrival of a team of security officers. Legate Curran and the traitor were accompanying the officers.

"Hello Legate!" Tekri was eyeing the Legate with delicious delight at his rather surprising arrival.

"Jolan'Tru... how may I address you?" Unsure of her status, the Kelvan wanted to stick as close to protocol as possible. First impressiona meant everything.

"Sub-Centurion will suffice." Her Tal Shiar position was Sub-Centurion and therefore the statement was not entirely false. Though the Legate would assume that she had been referring to her position inside of the Imperial Navy.

Kylar tilted his head at an angle in assent, warily keeping an eye on the assassin. "As you wish."

She looked away from the Legate to level her gaze at the target. The Sub-Commander had an acceptable physique for his age though obviously his military training could not possibly compete with what she had gained from her enhanced training.

She should not dismiss him so easily, though. The traitor had been an important military nobleman prior to his decision to argue with nearly all of the senate. His behaviour would not normally be associated with the behaviour of a high-ranking officer. It also should not be forgotten his stature carried many privileges. Connections not easily lost by being sent into exile. He may even have connections with the Tal Shiar itself. She would need to take care not to over-estimate his capabilities.

The Junior Senator, agitated and obviously irritated, was looking directly at her. The Omar family consisted of capitalists with egos larger than most colonized planets and gas giants (not that she didn't think the overbearing Seantor was full of hot gas himself). For that singularly large reason she greatly despised the rather overly wealthy senator.

Her choice of wardrobe was already impressive by Corgan's unsophisticated standards. Her alluring dress complimented her physically toned body. He likened the look to the consort ninjas of medieval Japan, a description more apt considering her profession. His eyebrow raised, though his face was stone.

~"Interesting."~ He kept his thoughts short and simple, to prevent her piercing green eyes from boring into his ashen gray's. Affording a glance at Omar, he could tell that the Romulan Ambassador was flushed. This brought a slight amusement he couldn't hide. He would allow the new arrivals, Omar and Curran interpret that as they wished.

"Jolan'tru, Atole Tekri," Savar intoned, with a smile, and giving a bow which was rather too deep for someone of her social status, which was low, relative to his. He allowed his eyes to linger for a moment too long on her ample chest before returning his gaze to her amused eyes, and extending his hands to her.

The woman calling herself Atole Tekri, returned the bow, bending her sinuous torso, then dipped her hands slowly into the scented water, maintaining a seductive eye contact with tr'Khellian the whole time.

"Jolan'tru, Sub-Commander tr'Khellian," she replied, in a strong voice. A few drops rained back into the bowl before she took the soft, fine cloth and wiped them dry with long, suggestive strokes. The ritual was ages old, a custom to offer refreshment to guests after an arduous journey. Her journey had been neither long, nor arduous, but the custom was always honoured among the Rihannsu.

Tr'Khellian watched her, allowing himself to almost leer at the woman, masking his contempt for her base strategy with a lewd expression. Whilst Tekri was clearly a shapely, fine young woman, with a toned body and curves in all the right places, the desire he was displaying was artificial. He preferred class, not crass - and the tight, revealing clothing Tekri was trussed up in was more befitting of a high-class whore on a provincial colony world than a diplomatic attache assigned to a member of the Senate. She had obviously dressed like this purposely, and it suited his own purposes to make her believe that it was working. She had every reason to believe so - she was indeed attractive: Corgan had already been eyeing her up.

"It is a delight to welcome another Rihana onboard this vessel," tr'Khellian said, with another smile.

"Thank you, Sub-Commander, for your charming welcome," Tekri returned, with a smile which displayed her straight, white teeth. "I had not expected to be greeted in the manner of our people." Her eyes flickered like daggers towards Ambassador Omar, who had been rude enough to forgo the ceremony and not even greet her. Tr'Khellian smiled knowingly, in unspoken sympathy, though her implied criticism of her superior rankled deep within him.

Victor watched the exchange with the detachment he displayed towards everything now. The woman was young, and wore her desire to do well like a cloak. If she lived long enough, she might make a wolf - or whatever filled the pack predator niche on Romulus in the past - but for now she was too eager, too untested. Dangerous, yes, just like any animal just into adulthood and eager to prove themselves, but not a true predator, not yet. She would always work better in a group, following orders and obeying her agency's rules, and that was where she would, ultimately, fail: because she would expect Victor to do the same.

Idly, Victor wondered if she would make her move before he was transferred, or if he would have to leave before that. Perhaps he would deal with the threat before he left, regardless of what she had done, perhaps not. That was in the future, and there was no future for him anymore. There was only now.

OOC: took place right after the Galaxy left Wolf 359

"...Not My Cup Of Tea"

Lieutenant (jg) Michael McDowell
Engineer

***

Deck 7,
Junior Officers Quarters,
Section 29B

***

"Hot chocolate."

The Replicator hummed while it processed the request and moments later a steaming cup filled with one of Michael's favorite drink materialized in the small alcove.

He took the cup out and carefully took a few sips. It tasted good, as always. ~Just what I needed.~

"Computer, start Personal Log. New Entry."

The familiar response of the computer followed shortly after Michael gave the command and now waited for his input. However, what followed was silence. Instead of talking Michael was looking out the window watching the stars go by while the ship was at warp. He never grew tired of looking at such a scene. It always had a calming effect on him, something he could use right now. Seen from that point of view it had been a good idea to place the couch opposite to the window.

Michael took another sip of the hot chocolate and then sat down on the couch. He let out a long sigh and let his mind ponder over all what had happened in the last few months.

"Where to start? So much has happened. The Mission to Quentin, the refit at Wolf 359 Advanced Tactical School,...oh yes, and lets not forget our Quick virus troubles. Really, it does haunt us. By now I could write a book about all the reported incidents. Sometimes it amazes me that no one has been severely hurt yet."

He paused a few moments while taking another sip of the hot chocolate. An itch at his chin suddenly became almost unbearable and it took some scratching to get rid of it. It was probably because of the two days old beard.

"And then there are those extra shifts Ethan is letting me cover for him. I find it hard to adjust to that, and that's an understatement. I haven't even shaved for two days. I think that says enough. There's one other thing. It's not that I don't understand why he needs his shift covered, but why he let me do it? Why didn't he appoint Grey to lead Alpha shift? Or Jillis? They all outrank me. So, again, why? If I didn't know better it's like he's giving me a special treatment. But that's ridiculous, and in this case it's all far too obvious."

Ethan's strange decision kept nagging Michael. In fact, most people in Engineering wondered what had motivated the Chief to bypass his own Assistant Chief. It had created an awkward situation. Every time Michael showed up on Alpha shift he felt the staring eyes in his back, and he imagined they asked themselves questions like 'What is going on?' and 'Why is he here instead of Lieutenant Grey?', and more of the same kind.

"Something is not right, of that I'm sure. But I'm hesitant to ask Ethan about it. Maybe there's something wrong with Grey, something on a personal level, and if that is true then it's none of my business."

~Personal problems,...yeah, who doesn't have them?~ Michael thought and considered his own troubles for some moments. Of course, some problems are far more serious than others. Now that he thought of it, he hadn't seen Grey for some time now. ~Lets hope she's doing okay.~

"Talking about personal problems; Lieutenant' Dhanishta Eshe is still struggling with her own. I try to help her in any way I can but it seems nothing works. Most of the time she doesn't even want my help. It's even worse. I don't even know what exactly her problems are and where they come from. She simply doesn't tell me."

Michael sighed and drank the last of his now lukewarm chocolate. Meanwhile he stood up and moved over to the replicator. "I hope the Counselors have more success, because I'm running out of options. ...Computer, end personal log."

After placing the empty cup into the alcove Michael tapped a single time on the small console of the replicator and the cup dematerialized.

"Tea, Darjeeling, hot." Michael's request came as soon the as cup had disappeared. It looked like the Replicator had trouble with the quick succession of commands as it suddenly started functioning in an erratic way while powering off and on.

The end result was a monstrous deformed ceramic teacup containing some strange brown goo that looked a lot like mud. Michael frowned and carefully stuck a finger in the brown substance.

"Computer, what has just been replicated?"

["Tea, brandname 'Darjeeling'."]

"Yeah,...I knew you would say that." Michael said and tried to wipe off the goo from his finger back onto the malformed cup. He reached for his combadge. "Here we go again."

"And So It Begins"

by
Ensign Barnabas Tukino,
Chief of Xenology,
U.S.S. Galaxy - A

Unauthorized use of Captain M'Kantu and Cutter Ka'ranin.

Stars drifted in horizontal streaks against their palette of darkness as the Pacifican leaned against the frame of the window port, still dressed only in pajama bottoms. A soft chime helped to bring his thoughts back to the present, and he blinked, his daydream passing as might a chill or an itch.

"The time is now 0700," the computer announced politely.

Time to get ready: a shower and a quick dial-up of breakfast (fruit and grains, some juice, but no coffee) helped immensely. He'd been unpacked since boarding at Wolf 359, but he'd treated his quarters as if they were a hotel room. Decorated in standard Starfleet straight-lines-and-right-angles, the room cried out for his personal effects to break up the placid tones of the room, but he hadn't yet taken the time to decorate. His transfer had been a split-second decision, but he'd delayed his actual activation to duty to use up his accumulated leave time. Not that it had helped that much. Sure, he'd managed to finish the necessary notations on both the research he'd brought with him and that he'd abandoned on the Explorer; he'd written individual, careful letters by hand to his parents and siblings (who might receive them in six months, if they were lucky; it was at such times he wished desperately they might deign to buy a computer port or at least a communications terminal); and the only places on board he'd visited were the mess, the library and one of the crew lounges. And, of course, he'd sent messages to some of his former crewmates.

K'iana.

He missed K'iana Dav terribly. Their relationship, so up-and-down, so out of the norm, had been a spiral of missed cues and bad timing. It had started on Carpathia. Their friendship and mutual respect had grown into something more special, but K'iana had been involved with someone else at the time. Unconsciously, his face screwed up into a frightful scowl. He hadn't wanted to admit it (out loud, at least), but there had been a primal fear about indulging in a romantic pastime with her. Not only was she his commanding officer, she was Caitian, and his family (who had never seen an extraterrestrial, not even a Vulcan) could hardly have been blamed for an inability to welcome a humanoid feline (albeit a highly attractive one) into the family. Their small village was not a cultural Mecca; growing up, it had been hard enough having friends who were Pakeha. Aliens were something incomprehensible.

Then Carpathia was attacked; he'd been injured severely and almost died. He 'd been delirious at one point, and K'iana reported to him later he'd professed to loving her. He didn't remember it; the doctor treating him wasn't surprised. "Your temperature was 105 degrees. You wouldn't have remembered your own name, much less your serial number or what planet you were from." The ship, their ship (much like their fledgling romance that wasn't) had been damaged beyond repair, decommissioned, the majority of her crew reassigned to Explorer.

"Maybe, on the Carpathia," K'iana had told him, "we would have had a chance. Captain Reaper is a man who understands loss. He would have sympathized." He remembered like yesterday the deep breath she'd taken, and then her voice cracked. "But this is a new start. And I think I need it. But I haven't decided yet if I'm going to transfer. Everything is just so confusing right now." Even then, he hadn't been able to admit to her his feelings; she had to come to Explorer with him. He'd kissed her passionately on the lips, telling her whatever she decided was okay when it wasn't . and the next time he saw her, they were both on board Explorer as if nothing had happened. Distance and professionalism were keys to the game.

True, things changed, and as most of their former crewmates were present, it hadn't taken long for the sparks to rekindle once again. And K'iana had been correct as well: the Explorer was not Carpathia. Their new captain, a Vulcan, expected nothing less than detachment between department heads and their subordinates. Romance was forced to congeal into friendship and mutual adoration, much to his frustration.

The recent turn of events had come about so suddenly, there hadn't been any time to process it all. His tired mind, still reeling from his insomnia of the night before, rattled off the events as if they were a grocery list: receive change of orders, abandon U.S.S. Explorer, say good-bye to K'iana, meet transport to Wolf 359, arrive U.S.S. Galaxy - A.

As his commission orders had clearly outlined that he was on leave upon boarding in order to see to personal business, no one had gone out of their way to say "hello" or welcome him outright. He'd checked in via computer, received his assignment of quarters, and merely moved in. He'd filed messages with both his new captain and commanding officer; both had returned polite responses looking forward to their initial face-to-face meeting. During his few sojourns about the ship he had received tacit nods of acknowledgement, as well as outright stares of curiosity. Neither was unexpected.

"The time is now 0745," the computer reminded him.

It's time for work, he thought. One last glance in the mirror allowed him to brush off his uniform, the blue sciences stripe standing out starkly against his skin. He carefully studied the whorled tattoos on his face and neck, the tribal earring (also sporting the small Caitian chain K'iana had given him) dangling in his left ear, and the carefully-groomed mane of black, wavy hair which reached down to the small of his back. Dispensations notwithstanding, he was the picture-perfect visage of a Starfleet officer.

"Computer," he said, his husky oil-on-gravel voice grated into the room, rich and robust with the New Zealand sounds he loved, "please send message to Captain M'Kantu and Lieutenant Ka'ranin that I'm en route."

"Acknowledged," the computer responded primly. "You are expected in the Captain's Ready Room on Deck 1 in ten minutes."

He clipped his commbadge to his uniform, peeked in the mirror once more, and was gone.

::::::::::

M'Kantu slowly scanned the personnel dossier while Ka'ranin stood impassively by his side. In front of the desk, Tukino also stood at attention, eyes riveted forward. Ka'ranin was studying him speculatively, taking in the obvious exceptions to regulation dress and grooming, but made no comment. Finally, the captain looked up and gave a faint smile. "At ease, Ensign."

Tukino dropped his gaze to meet the captain's. "Ensign Barnabas W. Tukino. It's a pleasure to have you aboard." M'Kantu referred back to the dossier, shaking his head slightly at one entry. "You seem to have had a wide range of adventures in two-plus years: pirates, engineered viruses used for ethnic cleansing purposes, assassination attempts, ectoplasmic life forms . the list goes on and on."

He gave a nod of acknowledgement.

"It says here you have a remarkable aptitude for sciences," M'Kantu continued. "That's quite unique given your upbringing."

"Just lucky I guess, sir," Tukino responded, with a small of air of self-satisfaction. Ka'ranin raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently," M'Kantu replied dryly, eyes riveting back onto the dossier. "Unfortunately you also seem to possess a gift for impetuous behavior, a lack of tact, and losing your temper. What's this entry about the destruction of a barbershop on Deep Space 23? It says you had to be restrained by four security officers." Ka'ranin smirked as Tukino's face fought to resist a scowl. He recovered quickly, though, Ka'ranin noticed. He was a large man, in good shape, and if he was truly as smart as he looked strong, there was definite promise here.

"I've had some setbacks," Tukino responded grudgingly. "But I take my licks like a man and start again. That's in there as well," and he made a vague pointing gesture at the desk computer before resuming his stance.

M'Kantu nodded, leaning back in his chair. "I'm glad to hear that, Mr. Tukino. I like to think I run an organized, tight ship. I wanted a Chief of Xenology who could fit in with that mold, someone who could do their job clinically and professionally, while also being able to appreciate what it means to be an outsider, or different, or new. I specifically requested that when I put the requisition in to Starfleet. Both Captains Reaper and Tyvok thought you would fit the bill superbly, as did your former commanding officer."

K'iana. He bit his lip. He couldn't think of her now.

"I hope you won't disappoint me, Mr. Tukino. I'm expecting great things from you."

"Do my best, Captain," he replied, refusing to waver or look weak.

There was a pause, and the captain nodded thoughtfully.

"Lieutenant," M'Kantu said, turning to Ka'ranin, "please exercise the necessary protocols to bring Mr. Tukino up to speed: ship's tour, physical in Sickbay, orientation to the science labs, security preferences, meetings scheduling, staff introductions, and the like. You know what to do."

Ka'ranin nodded acknowledgement. "Of course, sir."

The captain fixed him with a solid stare. "So it begins. I'm hoping you will be very happy here, Mr. Tukino. If there is anything you need, you may contact the lieutenant or me right away."

"Aye, sir," Tukino responded.

"That said," M'Kantu stretched slightly in his chair, "you're dismissed."

Ensign Barnabas Tukino

Chief of Xenology

U.S.S. Galaxy - A

"Breaking the Mirror, Part I"

OOC NOTE: This post takes place after "Rubbing Salt In The Wounds", and just before "Born to Fly".

Primary Characters:

Lieutenant Commander Cassius Henderson
Flight Officer T'Shani A'Akledorian

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 11
Holodeck 4

~Okay, so checking in with Rima was probably a stupid idea,~ Cass thought, running his hands through his hair, disheveled as it was after his latest 'conversation' with the Queen of Self Pity. ~And, come to think of it, this is probably also a stupid idea. More stupid, in fact. To the Nth degree.~

After talking to Lieutenant Rex, who'd related some of his conversation with Flight Officer A'Akledorian, he decided to check on the latest of the ship's problems. ~Why is it that every woman I meet is massively dysfunctional? Then again, Pennington's only punch! ed me once. I get the feeling that A'Akledorian would like to do far more than that to most people. Especially Rex.~

Checking her location, he started down the turbolift. ~Holodeck 4, eh? Taking out her aggression no doubt.~

Arriving at the holodeck, he stood in front of the door. ~Ookay... You're the XO, you can do this.~ After a few minutes, he got up the courage to confront the other officer, and stepped in the door, then carefully off to one side.

***

"VERK'IREI'EEL!!!"

The cold steel of the the Andorian's chaka sliced through the cool night air as the Warrior's Cry burst from her chest.

~That *FUCKING* Rex! Of all the nerve!~ She slashed at the figure again as it backflipped and threw something at her. Quickly, Tish's powerful legs sprung her up and over, as the tossed blade impaled itself on a Zlek tree behind her.

Breathing smoothly, yet rapidly--both hearts beating furio! usly--the Andorian warrior quickly doubled-back into the dense brush, drawing the foolish attacker into the open as *it* persued.

~What is it about the psyche of the Federation officer that makes them seek out a fight when they're irritated,~ Henderson said, ~The only thing that keeps Pennington from doing it is her complete lack of a spine, or combat ability to speak of.~

Raising her antennae high, she *saw* the holographic attacker move closer...closer...she was so focused on the re-enactment that she didn't even notice Cass standing behind her, hidden in some of the jungle brush...

The figure was Rihannsu, and he was holding a dagger, as well as his midsection, where a nasty cut marred the alien's skin. No doubt inflicted by T'Shani's chaka. Finding his position to be safe, Henderson crept a little closer.

In a silent motion, Tish held her breath and rolled onto her back, chaka gripped to her chest. Next--as the figure inadverta! ntly walked right over her--, she kicked her legs straight up, connecting with the persuer's chin, as a loud **CRACK** sounded in the thick, nighttime air. She leapt and spun to a low, spread-eagle leg-stance in front of him. As the Romulan fell forward--and before he had any time to react--Tish spun her blade in her hands--her yellow eyes almost glowing with hatred--as she brought the blade up, into, and clean through the attacker, bisecting him bilaterally.

~She moves so fast,~ Cass noted, crouching again, ~A Grandmaster... Truly frightening.~

Tish raised her blade high, the green, wet blood on the cool bluish-steel of her chaka glistening in the light from the twin moons in the sky above.

She was about to sound the Cry of Victory, when, all of the sudden, she noticed something out of the corner of her antenna. ~What the? That's not in the simulation!~ Quickly she leapt closer to where it was standing: behind her, to the left in a thicket of d! ense foliage...

"Flight Officer, Hold!" Henderson said as he rolled to one side, his insertion training kicking in. He really didn't feel like being attacked, even if the safeties would keep him from any real, permanent harm, "Just wanted to talk."

"Grrrrrrrr!" she actually *growled* at him as she held her chaka high and in front of her, prepared to strike, until she saw who it was...

~Fuck! What the fuck?!~

She stood still for a second, her right antenna twitching with great annoyance at Henderson's intrusion. Slowly, she lowered the weapon and stood to her full height.

Cass propped himself up on one arm. Ridiculous. He knew how stupid coming here was, but then again, part of that came with the new job. Making sure the whole crew is... safe.

"Computer, freeze program." the distinctive tri-tone chirp of the computer indicated its compliance. She took another step closer to Henderson, who was still lying-! -though now propped up, somewhat--on the ground.

"Raise lighting level by fifteen percent and remove holographic entities." Gradually, the ambient light increased from the deep-night black to more of a dark pre-evening dusk as the holographic corpse of the dead Romulan dissolved from existance, along with the green blood on her blade.

Eyeing Henderson cooly, "You are fortunate, 'Commander. This is not a holographic chaka; no safeties," she explained as her strong arm reached down and easily plucked Cass from off the ground by his jacket, standing him up straight.

"Don't touch me," Henderson brushed off his tunic as she put him down, "Your chaka. I'm familiar with the customs. You still have some room left on the blade." He examined the runes inscribed on her weapon. Each rune told the tale of a specific battle in which it had been wielded by a member of her clan. When it was full, it would be retired... Though to wh! ere escaped him, as T'Shani's clan had been killed. But she did still have some room left, right near the hilt.

"Hrrmph" she grunted. "That is correct, 'Commander," she confirmed as she absently ran her finger over the backside of the smooth, perfect blade. She looked back up, eyes and voice chilled. "However, *this* blade will never be retired."

"I see," Henderson said, nodding. Maybe this was what fueled her. He'd met Andorians before, obviously so. His partner in his early intel career had been Andorian. But this one was the extreme. The far end of the spectrum, as Andorians went. She personified all that her culture was.

Tish's voice softened, the fire in her eyes dying a little. "As you are aware, the Fifth House of A'Akledor...is no-more." Her antennas drooped ever so slightly as the pain, remorse, anger, and vengeance all coursed through her, for the second time that day.

He was taken aback.&nbs! p; She never let her guard drop. Yet here she was. Any fool would have been able to tell that the loss of her clan was a hurt that ran deep, but Cassius suspected that it was only the foundation for other things. ~Dear god, another Rebecca Von Ernst. Pushed too hard, too fast. A burnout.~ he thought about his predecessor. "You know..."

Quickly, she flipped the blade in the palm of her hand; up and over her head and slid it into the sheath on her back. The coldness returned to her eyes as she stared at Henderson.

"What do you *want*, 'Commander?"

"What do I want?" Cass asked, crossing out of the foliage and into the clearing. It was uncomfortable in there, "I want everyone on this ship to come home safely at the end of the day. And the next day. And the next. I don't think what I want is the question here, Flight Officer. The question is what do you want, and I don't mean just here and now?" Tish actually laughed. Not loudly; just a chuckle. "Mister Henderson..." She started with an amused tone to her voice, fully-aware that calling a Senior Officer 'Mister' was considered disrespectful, but she didn't care. She was still pissed enough to take on--and probably disembowl--anyone who dared challenge her, right now. She continued as she smiled and sat down on a large Zlek root that arched out of the thick jungle floor.

~Never misses an opportunity to get in a dig, does she,~ he thought to himself. If she wants to play, Henderson would play. He was just as on edge as her.

"...it is--how do you Humans put it? Silly? Happy?--No--*funny*: that *exact* question was posed to me by Tanner Houghton a few years ago: 'What do you *want*...'," her eyes became distant for a brief moment before she snapped herself back to reality.

~Or she could be opening herself to me,~ he thought, ~But why?~ He considered using this as an oppor! tunity to press her about General Houghton, Red Division, Captain Blackar, and especially Captain Worthman, but quickly thought better and waited. "It's a hard question."

She laughed again, this time sadly. Looking back up to Cass, who was standing over and in front of her, "There was a time, Cassius..." her voice softened from the ice-cold tones as she paused, catching herself inadvertently using his first name...

Cassius listened to her as she spoke. T'Shani A'Akledorian was such a strange dichotomy of a person. Her soft side was normal, but her hard side was extreme. He doubted she'd ever seen a counselor. No, she was exactly the kind of person who thought counselors irrelevent.

She watched Henderson closely, deciding that it was safe to continue, yet not fully understanding *why* she was telling him this: something that she hadn't even shared with Tron...

She took in a deep breath, let it out, and continued. "! ...that all I wanted was to find love; find my mates and start the *Sixth* House of A'Akledor. There was a time, so long ago..."

**A'Akledorian! No! Keep this from him!** a part of her mind screamed. But she had already started.

"...a long time ago..."

She was lost in it. As Cass watched, the different emotions played across her face. Hurt, pain, anger... Her antennae were dancing, arching, coiling, writhing... He stood silent. Any comparison between T'Shani and Celias was gone. Celias had been more controlled. T'Shani had given in to her emotions, and they boiled below the surface.

Quickly she sprang up, startling Cassius again with her speed. She drew the chaka once more, flipping it over from its hilt, so that it lay flat on both her open palms, with the blade facing *her*, in a gesture for Cassius to take hold of it...

That was surprising. When Celias had described the order of Grandm! aster Warriors, she had always said that no Andorian would surrender her blade under normal circumstances. Celias herself had only done so once. It was a great indication of trust. He accepted the chaka. It was huge, and heavy, just as he remembered it.

Turning the weapon over in his hands, he read the runes, using the limited knowledge of Andorian that Lieutenant JG sh'Veltaysa had taught him. He noted many great battles in the blade's past. But there was also a blank space, between runes. Odd for a chaka.

"What does this space represent?" he asked, angling the blade toward her so that it was obvious what he was speaking of.

"*That*," Tish emphasized as she watched as Cassius respectfully turned the long blade in his hands, "is *here*," she responded, almost cryptically.

"*Here*?" Cass asked.

"*Here*," she began to clarify, "is my homeworld--or what *was* my homeworld: Seltax Seven. Back that ! way, " she hitched a thumb over her shoulder, "is the city Raath Ra'Chuul, the Planetary Capital; where I grew up. Behind you," she now pointed over and behind Cass's shoulder, from the direction the Holo-Romulan had come from, "a Romulan invasion garrison is stationed on the banks of the Koruus'S River."

"I see," he said, understanding now. This place was a... sort of grim reenactment of her colonial homeworld's destruction. He remembered reading about it when he'd been doing a background check on her after their initial encounter.

She stopped and drew in another calming breath, "what you *saw* was what *should* have taken place at this spot. What you *see*," she pointed a finger to the blank spot on the blade, "is what *did* happen: I failed, and as such, myself and many others paid the price for that failure...some with the Ultimate sacrifice..."

Henderson nodded, thought about what to say, considered the tack he'd taken with Rima, cons! idered the fact that unlike Rima, T'Shani could kill him, and decided to go ahead with it anyway, "And I suppose *that* is what you're so angry about? There was nothing you could do to avoid that. God's sake, you were 10! You could never have fought them all. You're lucky to be alive."

"HAH!" she belted out, angling her antennae back in barely-controlled rage. Taking one *HUGE* step towards him, she stood face-to-face...mere inches from Cassius.

Cassius stood his ground. The move had been designed to make him show fear, or weakness, to invade his personal space. He awaited more of a responce, having said his peace. Still... He was unsettled, though collected.

"Lucky!...LUCKY?!" the disdain and red-hot anger clearly showing in her voice as her face flushed violet-blue while she yelled:

"Having *FAILED*, I should have *DIED*!"

She was very, very close to him. Her gold-yellow eyes smol! dered with all the collected emotions, hidden for years from most of the world. Anger, pain, and deep, deep, sorrow. He shook his head and began a reply, "No, It's not..."

She cut him off, again, "Instead, my scouting party was *captured* and killed, all except Tron and I..." she paused, her eyelids squeezing shut for a moment, forcing away the awful memories of what was done to them; to *her*.

"Tron K'Eiyathial? Not to belittle your pain, but why would they have spared him?" Cassius recognized the name from SFI. Another field agent, like the one he had been.

"Because," she growled, "they thought they could break him with *my* torture..." she trailed-off, saying nothing further.

"You know, there was very little you could do, especially once you'd been captured. I know I keep going back to this, but you were ten," he said, his pulse quickening, like when he argued with Pennington. He hated argu! ing.

She drew in a deep breath and commanded her hearts to stop pounding. Standing back to her full height, she deftly plucked her chaka from Cassius's hands. She turned the blade easily, stopping to run her fingers over the empty spot between the markings, on the flat of the sword.

Bowing her head and antennae, "No, Cassius: there was *everything* that I could have done. Great clans--hundreds of people--died that day because of our capture..." she trailed-off as she remembered the Clans that had fought so valiantly at the Battle of Koruus'S:

~Andrini'siithka...Oot'hoorhoaffth...Enes'theklarmaa'th...~ And of course,

~A'Akledor~

He frowned, but held her gaze. "But you've come so far since then. You are your clan's living legacy. Through you, they live on. Why dash that by causing problems for yourself here? Is working for Houghton's scavengers really bringing glory to their memory?"

"So far, 'C! ommander, I have followed every *rule* to the proverbial 'Tee'."--the incident with Rex and Heloi, aside. "And you are so quick to judge the merits of Tanner's division. Where do you think the new battle suits were developed? Or how about the ablative armor? Or maybe the quantum torpedoes? Hmmmm?"

He nodded, and found that he could not find the words.

She steeled herself away again, composing herself as she looked Cassius straight in the eye: "I *need* you, Lieutenant Commander. And I think, you know what I mean..."

"You want me to go on your fool's errand against the Hellfire," Henderson said. This was the chance he'd been waiting for. The chance to go after Brenna Worthman, to aide or protect her from T'Shani and from the rest of Intelligence. It wasn't what he'd planned, but it was something, "I'll do it. But I'll do it for my own reasons, on my own terms, Flight Officer A'Akledorian."

S! he stepped closer to him again, face-to-face...

OOC: Continuation to Part 1 posted some time back, sorry folks, had email troubles, so shoot me!

"One on One" Part 2

By
Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer

Lt. Commander Ethan Suder,
Chief Engineering Officer

As the transporter beam took a startled Dhani away, Curran appeared to relax somewhat, whilst maintaining his mental guard. Last thing he needed was a Betazed intruding on his thoughts.

"My faith in your engineering team is wavering, 'Commander. I expected more out of a top-rated technician. Do you let your personal feelings interfere with your duties?"

"Only in the shower." Ethan wittingly replied.

"Are you in..." he shivered at the thought, "love... with this Eshe? Officers in her state will only be held back from promotions and tarnish your own record." He crossed his arms in tempered defense, boring a laser thin hole into a point between Suder's eyes.

"Love?" Ethan raised an eyebrow and scanned the room before meeting Curran's gaze. "Ah, because of my defensive attitude towards Lieutenant Eshe, that's what you conceive love to be? No I do not love her." he said through clenched teeth, almost insulted at the suggestion. "I treat her as I would any of my officers who were being assaulted in such a manner by someone who needs something removing from his...." Ethan paused a moment and almost smiled and shook his head, continuing his stare.

"Now, if you wouldn't mind... I need this communications array implemented immediately. Unless of course, you would like to explain to the federation Council and my superiors why I have not met my scheduled appointment with them?"

"Your superiors?.... Your parents?" Ethan questioned. "Well I guess just this one time I could assist you without having to defend myself against insults and offensive suggestions..." Ethan tapped his command codes into the terminal and began carrying out the request he had been issued earlier.

Curran clenched his fists, suppressing the anger that roiled within. Why were these humanoids so vilifying? They made the thought of living with machines so much more appealing.

This sent a shimmer of adrenaline through. Not one of excitement, but of... terror? Kelvans don't feel fear! He became suddenly hyperaware of things going on around him. The hum of Suder's tools as he siphoned his way into the numaces of the ship, the thrum of his heart, the echo of whispers. It came rushing into his ears. He leaned onto his desk, keeping his features away from the Betazoid, but he knew the emotions couldn't be held in check for long, if they weren't broadcast already.

Ethan frowned as he continued working on the console. He raised his head slightly and looked at the Kelvan. He then turned and looked back down at the console. A strange feeling spiralled up his spine and seemed to surround his brain like a cloud. For a moment, Suder had considered maybe asking him if he was ok, but he had showed a complete lack of compassion for a member of his team, and he wasn't in the mood for much. To hell with him! He grabbed another tool from his kit and continued to monitor the Kelvans emotions. He hadn't probed a mind for years and wasn't about to start now, but the feelings and sensations coming from Curran couldn't be ignored.

The Kelvan summoned his will to force down the emotional surge that threatened to overcome him. Of late the incessant feelings of anger and hatred welled up more often than previous of late. Since the attack of the Orions and their weapons of human degradation called 'fem-bots', the turmoil of emotions kept falling over akin to a cascade of light. He knew that one day, without assistance, he would not be able to stop it.

At night, he dreamed; a nightmare of images. Of Karyn Dallas leaning over him with a hypo, of a woman, red-haired and appealing to the eye leaning over him uttering silent moans. He felt a tearing within him, of an epic struggle, and he was losing. It was terrifying, and exhilarating at the same time, like his Kelvan heritage was contesting his human DNA that was on some vile mission. At the outset, he knew he'd been violated in some form or fashion by actions during this time, but he could not recall what.

And he'd be damned if he was going to take a trip to the counseling offices for some patronization of his species.

He noticed the Betazoid hestitate and go back to his work. It was too tenuous a moment to be near the telepath.

"'Commander Suder, I have urgent business that needs to be attended to. Please have the refrigeration unit replaced as soon as you able. If you would be so kind as to inform me when your installation will be complete? Thank you." It was quite un-Kelvan to be as polite to this inferior species, but again, Kylar was hardly himself of late.

He nodded half-aware of the answer, turning his back to the Engineer to leave hurriedly. He was gone before his guise would shatter.

"A Klingon Totem"

By Lt. Michael Jamson,
Operations Officer

And
Lt. jg Dhanishta Eshe

Bruised and bleeding from his encounter with the Romulan Ambassador and his bodyguards, Michael tried not to limb while wandering through the corridors of the refitted Galaxy. He felt a sharp pain on the left side his stomach - he suspected a fractured or cracked rib. He held his left hand closely, trying to obscure it from plain sight. 'It isn't painful anyway' he thought and kept on walking. The adrenaline rush was over by, and he started to feel the pain. But in is opinion it was worth it, there's nothing like a good brawl to know you're still alive and kicking.

He needed to return to Sickbay for treatment but his pride wouldn't allow him to, he's been there a couple of hours ago and made a mess...getting back there would only make it worse. How exactly he was going to explain a cracked rib? He couldn't just say he battled Romulan combatants and barely made it, he couldn't have an accident at one of the Holodecks? He would have to disengage the holodeck safety protocols for such an injury, which would get him into more trouble. How he yearned for someone to understand him.

Approaching one of the nearest turbo lift, Michael decided to get some rest back in his new quarters. Of course he doubted he'll get any rest, with the upcoming work he had. Glancing around while waiting for the turbo lift to arrive, Jamson suddenly noticed a peculiar yet familiar Klingon sign and marking. It was branded on the right shoulder of a Trill female standing right next to him. She wearing an enhanced gymnastics power suit, so the symbol was 'radiating' from her body.

Dhanishta had completely run out of holo credits, and she was beneath scrounging around her few friends to borrow some. It was a pity really, she had just finished enhancing one of her combat programs and was eager to test it out. She was sure that Ethan would jump at the change to test drive it with her but at the moment the hostility between them was still an issue. So she was going to the gym to work out her frustrations instead. She noted the man who stood next to her with a brief nod, and then returned to stare at the turbo lift doors. She knew this man was new to the Galaxy mainly because he wasn’t a rotten corpse. She had also decided to refrain from telling the counsellor that she saw everyone who had died during the Quinten incident as walking corpses. Eventually they would all return to normal, she was sure of it.

She began to shift, slightly uncomfortable in the gaze of the man that stood next to her. Folding her arms across her chest she fixed an errant stray hair back into position, taking a moment to look the officer up and down. Her first thought was that he was staring at her breasts, they were quite on show in this outfit as was the rest of her body. But after a second glance she saw what it was he was looking at. Tilting her head to one side she continued to stare at him till his eyes finally made their way from her bicep to her face. She raised an eyebrow in a questioning way.

“This is quite...interesting..." Michael said as if he was intoxicated, his eyes once again fixed at the astonishing Klingon sign. "Remarkable..." he continued to stare at her, ignoring the returning gazes of the 'young' Trill. "I haven't seen one of these for a very long time" he looked straight into her eyes once more. He was inflamed, he wanted to touch the brand, but kept his hands to himself.

"tlhIngan Hol Dajatlh'a'-Do you speak the language-Klingon?" He asked traditionally and politely, he used a little out of date klingon as he wasn't sure if she would understand him.

"HIja' jIH ta' ja tlhIngan-Yes, I do speak klingon" Dhanishta replied instantly in modern klingonese(Klingonasse).

Michael was astounded! A Trill who speaks Klingon??? On a Federation vessel.

She smiled at his astonishment, “Its not that surprising,” she said, “I grew up on Qo’noS.”

'Ahh...Qo'noS...' Michael's drifting thoughts swung him away. He spent several summers on that foul, reddish, filthy planet. And he cherished every moment of his so called adventures. He used to accompany his close Klingon friends to their families and houses in Qo'noS. "I must say I envy your growing up experience, it must have been glorious" he smiled.

She shrugged her shoulders slightly, “I suppose.” She said. “I never really thought about it like that. I lived on several planets during my youth.” She thought for a moment, “I favoured Vulcan.” She said simply.

“Vulcan?" he asked. "How does one travel from Vulcan to Qo'noS?" He couldn't understand the 'logic' behind such action.

”Quite simply, one boards a transport.” She mocked him with a warm smile.

The common sense of a Vulcan and the daring of a Klingon, this Trill was unique in a way, at least in the eyes of Michael.

"What is your name?" Michael asked directly before extending his hand. He forgot his manners, well actually, he didn't have any "I apologize...I am Michael Jamson, the new operations officer". He felt uneasy apologizing, he wasn't custom to apologize or regret his actions, he wouldn't admit it anyway, but maybe she knew what he was going through. He would feel easier to socialize with someone who understands the way of the Klingon warrior.

She took his hand with a firm grip, “My name is Dhanishta Eshe, engineer. It’s nice to meet you, Michael.” Stepping into the turbo lift she stated her destination before turning to address Jamson, “So tell me, how is it that you come to regard the Kilngons so?”

Not many have called the proud warrior in his private name before, he was regular to formalities "Well...Dhanishta...as a child, I've had the wonderful opportunity of growing up with many Klingon friends". He suddenly felt vulnerable and confused, he always tried to keep his life his own business, yet he continued "It was either Klingons...Romulans, Breen, Andorians or even Gorn, where I come from".

Dhanishta nodded for him to continue.

"With the absence of my parents, most of the time, and with no other Humans back home, I was forced to choose between the races. A single human kid, struggling to survive every day, avoiding the other racial alien teenager gangs". It wasn't easy for Michael to survive every day. The outpost where he lived, wasn't a big outpost, there weren't too many places to hide. As the sole human child on the outpost he often suffered many abuses by the other races, including the Klingons. They used to beat and humiliate him to the point where he was afraid to step outside his own home. His parents were away, smuggling, and the only one he could trust, was his own grandfather which was also helpless against the other races. The Klingons on the other hand, were respected above all others, no one dared to provoke them and humiliate them. They also kept a close circle and let no one in. Many times the teen aged Michael watched how their young circle of upcoming warriors defeated the other brats on the streets of his outpost. They never showed any interest in him, they said it wouldn't be honourable to hurt a small human kid. He feared them, but at the same time admired them. He started following them everywhere, just like a little child, but they ignored him. "One day...the Andorian caught me in an alley, I was hiding, waiting for streets to clear up, but they've found me..." he paused briefly, "It was then when the Klingons came to my aide...I never knew if they did it for me, or just because they wanted to make a stand, but from there on...I decided I wanted to learn how to survive". Slowly, they accepted the young scared human child into their homes, he learned how to fight, how to hunt, sing, enjoy a good brawl every now and then, and furthermore, he had allies who stood by him any time. He was no more the scared brat, but a formidable foe, and above everything, respected and feared by the other races.

”So you have been mimicking them ever since?” she questioned. Finally realising something about herself. She too had found a ‘family’ but for her it was one man, Sark. He had taut her, guided her, shown her how to survive as it were. And she had moulded herself on him. Just as Michael had moulded himself on the Klingons. She frowned and half laughed. Looking up into Michaels eyes was like looking into a mirror. He was different from the others on this ship. Not because he chose to be but because of circumstances, he was most likely outcasted by everyone else on the ship. Just as she was. Because they chose another way one that was not their own, no one else could relate, they thought she was weird because she preferred the Vulcan way. So many times she had been told to be herself. They didn’t conform. For a few moments she just stood looking into his eyes, seeing herself.

“I'd like to think I became one of them..." he noticed she looked into his eyes. He knew he wasn't one of them, he was a human being after all, but a big part of his human identity, soul, who he was, how he thought and acted, was lost over time. His own Klingon friends gave him a Klingon name. He would never reveal that name, most humans would make a laugh out of him if they knew. This special privilege was kept for Klingons and Klingons alone. After his parent's demise, he stayed on Qo'noS, and tried to erase any trace of his humanity, but he was unsuccessful...in the eyes of many Klingons, he was still a Terran petaq. He wanted to add nothing more, but felt obliged to "I might not look like a Klingon, but I do feel like one".

“I understand.” Dhani said, her tone sympathetic. Although she had been moulded by a Vulcan, of late she had been feeling every emotion under the sun. She hadn’t handled it too well. But at least this gave her the opportunity to reach out and connect with others. That was as long as she stayed feeling the way she was, at the moment her rage was under control but for how long she didn’t know. “I lived on Qo’noS for years,” she started, “it took a long time for the ‘Trill twins from Vulcan’ to fit in, to be respected. Me and my sister went through no end of teasing, jabs, taunts, call it what you will before we made any friends. We had to change to have any chance of living a happy life. After several lonely years we did the unexpected, challenged them. All of them. Every Klingon in the sector. We gained respect from them the same way every Klingon child did, although it wasn’t as easy. They, after all had a head start! But we played the game on their terms. And as you can see,” she nodded towards her right shoulder, “we were accepted. I know exactly how you feel.” She concluded with emphasis.

"Twins?" Michael asked puzzled. He was quite amazed to find one Trill with the attitude of a Klingon, but now there were two of them.

Oh Dhani really loved how they all focused on that part! “Yes.” Dhani replied trying not to sound clipped, “I have a twin sister, Chandrakala. She is currently serving on the T’kengra. A Klingon bird of pray.” She explained. “We are practically identical. Our spots are different of course,” she said pointing to her neck and gesturing the rest, “a trills spots are unique, as Terran finger prints are. My sister has bright green eyes and red hair, I on the other hand have dark hair and dark eyes verging on black.” she said.

Michael looked at her shoulder again, that brand symbolized who she was. The hard work of being respected, he knew it wasn't easy, he tasted it on his own flesh. They chose a similar path, if they were forced into it or not, but they were persistent and won recognition. It was a never ending battle, to prove yourself every single time. Sometimes, he felt too tired to prove himself, and he just desired to quit, but his inner struggle never set him free. It wasn't a burden, but a gift, and he had to fight in order to keep it, to stay worthy of keeping it. He knew she probably felt the same.

She stepped closer to him. She knew what he wanted; he wanted to touch the mark, to feel the rippled scared flesh beneath his fingertips. To see the mark wasn’t the same as feeling it. He craved anything Klingon maybe that went to the extent that he craved her too. After all she had been touched by them, lived with them, and most of all been accepted by them. She didn’t have to work to keep their respect; she had it forever branded into her arm. Does that then mean that she gets an automatic approval from him? The air in the room had turned. She could feel the almost electric energy that sparkled around. She didn’t know if it was him or her but she felt it. Sexual thoughts entered her mind, heat sensations prickled across her body. She tingled in places she shouldn’t have. She leaned in to him, with the intention of taking his hand to her arm, to let him feel what he desired, but she couldn’t. Why let him have what he wants, that’s not the way to keep a man comi! ng back for more. “I didn’t even scream.” She said in a deep seductive voice, her mouth next to his ear. Pulling back the turbo lift stopped, and the doors parted. Stepping out she turned and looked at him, wondering if he had any more parting words, or if this exchange was over. Part of her hoped that it wasn’t, that he had no better place to be. But the other half wanted to be far away, these new sensations caressing her body were different from the anger and the sorrow and pain. She had no idea what she would do!

This captivating feeling fascinated Michael, he felt enchanted as if something bigger was controlling him. He closed his eyes when she whispered in his ear, he could almost smell the incense in the air, the blood on his hands, it was a delightful sentiment. He was taken by this brand of hers, tingling vibrations moving up and down through his body. How he desired to touch this symbol on her shoulder, to touch her. And he almost did, if it wasn't for the turbolift to stop instantly. She turned to move away and looked at him. He couldn't say a thing, something was torn away from him, he wanted to speak but didn't. What kind of a warrior was he? To stand still and say nothing...a coward! He'd let his human side take over at such moments, what a pity. An irritating Bolian officer entered the turbolift and set his destination, the doors were half way closed when the somnambulist Klingon wannabe stuck his hands, forcing the doors to an open state once more. "Maybe..." he gasped "How about...a Holodeck adventure?" was all he could think of.

Turning in the corridor, a smile dancing across her lips, she looked at him and gave a single nod. Her eyebrows were raised and a mischievous twinkle caught in her dark green eyes. She took a few steps backward to keep eye contact that little bit longer before turning around and continuing to the gym.

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer

&
Turan Trelar

“You were my Husband!!!”

Dhanishta sat picking at her food. She had enough of eating alone in her quarters, or rather forgetting to eat. When she decide to go to the mess hall for ‘dinner’ she had felt hungry but it seamed everywhere she went there was a new memory waiting for her. Down one hall she would see the destruction of the ship, people running around and others dying, the next turning she would stumble over rotting corpses. By the time she reached the mess hall, ordered her food and sat down her appetite had seriously decreased!

Sighing she took her nearly full plate back to the replicator and watched it disappear. Of late walking around the ship had made her feel better but now it just haunted her. She wasn’t sure if she should just sit alone in her quarters and mope of face the ghosts.

Leaving the buzzing mess hall behind her she braved the corridors. Looking up as she exited she stopped dead. The doors closing behind her nipped her butt causing her to jump forward slightly, but it was not enough to uproot the shoots that had sprouted out of her, fixing her feet to the floor.

He, bolder than life, walked down the corridor towards her. At first she thought it was another flash back but he looked different, younger.

“Turan?” she whispered.

Turan turned around looked at the female officer.

"You know me, ma'am?" he asked amazed. It took a blink of an eye until the small communicator he wore started translating. It took an other blink of a second for Turan to realize that a baldy big headed alien who over-towered the average crew member by at least two heads should be a prime topic soon.

Nevertheless there was something special with this female. Although Turan spent most of his time watching the ship's crew and studied their behaviour, it was hard for him to distinguish different crew members of the same race. This Terran female was different, kind of familiar. No doubt, he never met that woman before, didn't he?

Dhanishta took several tender steps towards him. It felt as if her heart had leapt into her throat and her lungs had decreased in size; she found it hard to breath, either that or she wasn’t breathing! Before she even realised what she was doing she was standing in front of him, on tip toes, reaching up for him. Her hand curled around his neck, pulling him towards her. Drawing his lips to her own. There was a moment, not so much of hesitation but a moment of pause where she looked into his eyes. Just as she had looked into his eyes so many times before. There was something different this time though. Before, when she had looked into his eyes she had seen her reason to survive. Him. He had needed her, needed to believe in the aliens from the stars, needed her to meet the rest. But there was no need in his eyes this time.

Still she drew him nearer, as her lips connected softly with his, grazing ever so gently, she pushed herself up on to the tips of her toes so that their lips made full on contact, deep and passionate. Memories, warm and inviting of Turan floated through her mind. Their first meeting over the moba fruit, the first time he touched her, the first sunset they watched together, the first kiss….. all these memories wove together painting a pretty picture in her head. She began to think about all the last things as Naut had done when they left the planet. Looking out from the shuttle window, full of longing and sorrow, her life companion torn away from her, another low blow from Starfleet. A tear trickled down her cheek as it had then, she remembered the last time she ever saw him; they were standing on the top of a sand dune. She had been crying, she was angry, looking down the hill she could see the Starfleet officers. She began to run down the dune, her makeshift shoes fl! ying off her feet, she pulled out a weapon and began to fire at them, all of them. All her rage spilling out as she pulled the trigger. And then she hit the dirt, hard.

She recoiled from Turan’s lips, her eyes wide as she realised what had happened. Her hands fell from his face, she stood for a moment staring at him. It didn’t take long for the rage to burn, never mind coiling inside it just burst out. Her hand which till now had been limp at her side sprung up for an upper cut, in mid air curled into a fist, and met squarely with the underside of Turan’s jaw.

“YOU SHOT ME!” she screamed out in Quintarish.

Turan was not able to avoid the blow. In deed, he didn't even see that fist coming. The fist performed a perfect hit, that drove Turan into semi-unconsciousness. Turan stumbled back wards to be stopped by the cold duranium of a bulkhead.

The tall Quentite boy shook his head to regain consciousness. Is this way the species with the partly camouflaged skin uses to make a first contact with an unknown alien species? But no, despite the fact, the female knew his name, the words, she screamed were definitely Quentinarish.

"Where do you know me from, Ma'am? What have I done to deserve it?" asked Turan quite puzzled and rubbed his jaw.

Dhani, or maybe it was Naut, who could tell? Continued to scream! Anger vented like the steam from a kettle and she continued to pound on the unsuspecting Turan, “You shot me! You absolute ………. you……. you…..” she continued to assault him verbally in his native tongue, as well as physically. Unfortunately for Turan she had been taught to fight by Klingons, the warrior race. No grille slaps erupted from her, no scratches or half punches, oh no! Every blow made solid contact with a part of his anatomy.

This time, Turan was prepared for the attack. The first beat hit him at his lower rib cage. Although the beat was rather hard, the giant Quentite kept stand closely watching the aggressive female officer moves. Now, the officer raised her right foot to place a high kick at his stomach. Turan quickly stepped aside and managed to take grip at the officers ankle. His other hand shot forward and caught the females right wrist. It didn't take the former Quentite boy scout much effort to lift his attacker up in the air and slowly lay her on the carpeted floor like he often showed younger boys and girls on Quentin handling wild animals. This time the wild animal he handled was called Trill.

Turan sat down on his prey's chest effectively pinning her arms to the floor with his knees.

Turan laid a hand over the officers eyes. Usually taking their vision made animals quickly give up its resistance. With a tender voice he tried to calm down the female starfleet officer. "hooooo, stop fighting ... hooooo, calm down ...hoooo, I won't do you any harm ... Peace with you ..."

The same line? It made Dhanishta snap. Wriggling under Turan’s weight she freed her left arm and sent a powerful left hook to the middle of his face.

*Crack*.

As his body fell aside, hands flying to his broken nose she followed through with a right hook to the side of his head. Once free she jumped to her feet. Looking down at the broken man she raised her foot to stamp on him, crush him.

Dhanishta suddenly recoiled. The blood covered her hands, his blood. She couldn’t believe what she was doing. She back stepped till she was against the wall, her had covering her mouth as she looked down at the bloody mess she’d made, “Oh my god, Turan, I’m so sorry, I, I …” she stammered not knowing what to say, or to do. What had she done?

She felt sick, not just at the state of Turan, and the fact that she had done that. But just the realisation that Naut had been with him, lived with him for years. He was so young! And she was so much older than him. It hadn’t mattered then, they were the only two left but she felt disgusted with herself, dirty even. And Naut felt so betrayed! But still she loved him in a way she had never loved anyone else. But it wasn’t the love Dhani had always hoped for. Naut had just made the best of a bad situation. She had betrayed her self too, and him! She had let him believe that she cared for him, and she had but, but …. Not like that, she could never *love* him like that. She was so mixed up. Enraged at Naut, with herself, and him too. He shot her in the back how could she forgive that? She could feel the lump stick in her throat, part of her wanted to walk away leave him there, after all he deserved it, cold hearted bastered, he hadn’t loved her, how could he? He ! stabbed her in the back! He was just like Chang, but worse! Her head began to pinch slightly, she felt a tear slide down her cheek.

Before she knew it she was kneeling down beside him. She couldn’t hate him, not even a little bit. But she hated herself, oh how she wished she had the guts to just end it! “Turan, are you okay? I’m soooo sorry, I…. Oh my god, Turan, speak to me!” She moved his arm from its coiled position round his head and checked that he was still breathing, gently stroking his bleeding face.

Turan awoke slowly. He felt somebody stroking his face. He heard somebody talking to him - a female voice - a female voice, he knew. It was *her*. She wasn't gone. She obviously had switched moods again. Something with this female was definitely not sane. For the moment she seemed to have calmed down. What if she switched again? Turan tasted his own blood. He had to get out of that situation before she ran wild again.

Turan opened his eyes and jumped up pushing her off him. The large boy didn't even try to control his strength. He virtually threw her. His legs didn't seem to wait for a signal. They just ran. They didn't know where to run, they didn't even know where they were. They just tried to do their best to get their owner out of danger, not allowing him to look back. And by the way ... Turan didn't even dare. He just ran ... ran .... ran for his life.

It didn’t take long for Dhani to catch up to him, with the state he was in; scared and confused. Her back hurt from the hard contact she had made with the floor, or was it the wall? “Turan.” She called out, “Stop!” she grabbed his arm reeling him round.

Once she had his limited attention she held her hands up in the air, a gesture of retreat. “Turan its okay, I wont hurt you again, I’m sorry! I, I, I…” she began to stammer and then she realised, “You don’t recognise, me do you?”

Turan coughed. His chest was aching, so was his head. What did this Trill want of him?

"Recognize you?" he answered? "We never met before ..." Turan tried to keep out of the females reach. He didn't want another - probably the final - hit.

“Turan!” she exclaimed exasperated, “You were my husband!” She searched his eyes looking for any recognition, “Don’t you remember? The Galaxy crashed, you were the only survivor on Quinten, I was the only survivor from the ship?” She continued to look at him, his face his expressions that was once so easy to read, “The Farm…” she shot out hoping to jog something. “The cave….” again she waited for a sign, “We used to clean the registration of the Galaxy so that if a rescue team came they would find it.” Still nothing, “Turan! We lived together for twenty eight years.” She finally said, totally at her wits end.

"Your Husband? For twenty years?" Turan laughed. Again there was this dull ache in his chest."I am sixteen years old. And this ..." he pointed at a LCARS display "... this is the Galaxy."

"Have you ever thought about talking to a healer about that?" he asked the partly camouflaged officer.

She stared at him, dumb founded. He didn’t remember any of it. Why? Why did she remember everything and him not? She wanted to explain more but looking at him, she could still read him. Not as well admittedly but still she knew when he was hurting, though this was kinda obvious.

“Come on,” she said, almost reaching out for him, “lets get you to sick bay.”

"Find of the Century"

Primary Characters:
Captain Eliza Stuart
(Brevet) Commander Cassius Henderson

Secondary Characters:
Lieutenant Corran Rex
Ensign Rima Pennington

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Main Bridge

[Captain Stuart and Commander Henderson to the bridge,] the voice of Chief Counselor Karyn Dallas came over the ship's speakers, and Cassius looked up from the holomap of the Lhoranth that he and Captain Stuart had been concentrating on. So far they'd covered something like 33% of the grid using their figher squadron, and Henderson had to be impressed by their efficiencey.

Stuart was looking up too, and as he caught her eyes, they both knew the thought running through their minds. ~Maybe they found something.~ An hour ago, Vanguard 7, Heather Lewis, had found a piece of debris from a Federation starship, and they'd localized their search.

They headed for the door at the same time, Henderson pausing to let Captain Stuart out first. It definately beat getting stuck in the door because they were both heading out.

"Report," Stuart ordered as she entered the bridge, heading down to the command chair, to stand next to Commander Dallas. Cassius caught Rima's eyes and nodded. She looked down at the console, unsure of how to respond.

~Still embarrassed from the other day,~ he thought, ~I'll go stand with her. The captain will want me up here if there's any trouble.~ He crossed to the arch and waited, watching Stuart and the others. Pennington poked him in the ribs, and pointed at a flashing light on her board. Lieutenant Rex was holding on the comm.

"We may have located the Pallas Athena," Commander Dallas reported, "Lieutenant Rex called it in just a minute ago. He found it in grid K-33."

Eliza nodded, "Put him on the comm."

Henderson's hand bumped Rima's as they both reached for the control. Pennington gave him a sharp look, and he removed his hand. Her arch.

[Captain?] Rex' voice came from the top of the bridge.

"Lieutenant Rex, I want a full report on the condition of the Pallas Athena," Eliza said, eager to get the SAR team over there. The Lhoranth might have been vast, but one Federation starship could go unnoticed for only so long. Two was right out, especially with fighters moving around.

[She's pretty badly damaged, ma'am,] Rex replied, [I don't think we're going to be getting it out on it's own power. Damage information is being transmitted to TACANALYSIS by Pilot Lewis, but I think the damage was Romulan. The shuttlebay is open, no lights are on.]

"K-33? Is that on our side or the Romulans, Lieutenant?" Stuart asked.

[Romulan, ma'am,] the voice came back, [This may be a treaty violation.]

"That's exactly what I was afraid of. Major Bolivar, get me a copy of the Treaty of Galvanis. Lieutenant Rex, go ahead and bring your fighters back in and get some rest," she said, then signaled for Rima to close the channel. "Commander Henderson, do you feel up to your first away mission?"

"Yes ma'am," Cassius replied confidently. He hadn't been on an away mission in a long time. Too long, especially when he was cooped up on the ship, "Search and Rescue?"

"Yes. Commander Dallas, place the ship on Yellow Alert and call the whole crew to their stations. We're going into the asteroid field. Cassius, take Major Bolivar, Lieutenant Kreighoff, Lieutenant Grey, Ensign Murphy, Ensign Wikkins,Ensign Elliot and Ensign Pennington over to the Pallas Athena. We need to secure that ship and account for it's crew. Have medical assemble a follow up team for any survivors."

A chorus of yes ma'ams followed, and Henderson nodded, then walked down to Captain Stuart's side. "Captain, do you think it's wise to go into the asteroid field with Galaxy? Our sensors are going to blind to the outside. If anything comes, we won't see it coming."

"Yes, but at the same time, our opposition will have as hard of a time finding us as we did finding the Pallas Athena," Stuart said, "And I want to get within transporter range so we can do this faster."

"Agreed. If you think so, ma'am. I will note that our opposition *did* find the Pallas Athena," he noted, and Eliza Stuart frowned.

"Good point. I'll cycle the fighters out on patrol when they get back," she replied.

"Good idea. I'll report in when I'm over there."

"The Games We Play"

Ensign Kira Murphy
Medical Officer

Lieutenant (jg) Michael McDowell
Engineer

*** Ten-Forward, Delta Shift time ***

No matter how many times Michael had done it, paperwork was one of the things he would never get used to. Lets face it, paperwork is so completely boring that you sometimes wished you could just throw the PADD's into the replicator and watch while they were being recycled. Oh, the joy that would bring. The sheer pleasure. Not that if ever would happen though.

Michael placed another PADD on the small stack to his right. "And that was number three. One to go and I'm home free." Before continuing with the last one he allowed himself a few minutes rest. Looking around Ten-Forward Michael noticed that gradually more people were coming in. Probably all Gamma Shift people just like him. He recognized a few, the rest were just 'faces in the crowd'. However, one caught his attention and he kept following her all the way from the entrance to the bar. There was something about her, something familiar but Michael couldn't say what it was.

"The usual again, I assume?"

The voice had come out of nowhere and startled Michael. He turned and looked up at the waitress beside him, then glanced back at the now empty glass that stood on the table before him. "Uh, yes, right. Thank you."

She smiled, picked up the glass and walked away towards the bar. "One hot chocolate milk coming up." she said, unable to suppress a chuckle.

Michael didn't pay much attention to it. He liked hot chocolate milk. So what? Surely he wasn't the only one on this ship that had a taste for it. Turning back to the table he picked up the last of the PADDs. "Correlation between system failures and Quick virus" Michael mumbled as he read the title on top of page one. The two last words made him pull a sour face. "Perfect reading to ruin ones early morning."

Ever since she had worked in that bar, Kira had picked up the quirky habit of sensing when she was being watched. Maybe it was a bit of healthy paranoia or something else, but she hadn't really ever worked out which. Anyway, it had reared its squat ugly misshaped troll-like boil-encrusted head again. Looking around the room after ordering one of her typical drinks which had been aptly named Tree Frog in a Blender due to its unusual unmixed coloring of red, brown and green, she spotted an engineer over at one of the tables.

Smiling, she made her way through the room, ignoring the 'accidental' gropes and brushes that she normally got.

Reaching the table, she smiled, "Is this seat free?"

For the second time this morning Michael was caught by surprise. He was about to answer the question but failed to find the words when he looked up and recognized the woman before him. She'd been the one who Michael had been staring at for some long minutes and it was somewhat alarming to see her standing before him. It was only after some agonizing moments that Michael finally replied. "Uh,...oh, I'm sorry..." he said, feeling embarrassed, and smiled apologetically. He tried to put in a little charm but failed miserably. "But, yes,...it's available."

Grinning, she spun the chair around and straddled it, leaning forwards. Sipping from her drink, she watched him for a few moments before asking, "Watcha reading??"

Michael smiled briefly. "Nothing worth talking about, really. It's not Shakespeare,...I can assure you that." Now, why did he feel so nervous? It was always the same. When being on duty he had no problems at all talking to women (probably because it always was about work), but in off-duty hours - like in this situation - he was a complete disaster. Socializing was not Michael's strongest point, to put it mildly. "But, you can have a look. That is,...if you really want to know what it's about." Michael carefully slid the PADD over to the other side of the table, like he was engaged in a precarious diplomatic conversation.

Quickly looking at the padd, she tried to concentrate on what it was, but it just seemed to confuse her. All the numbers seemed to spin around and she blinked in surprise.

Looking up, she said, "I don't really understand most of it. Never was good with numbers and stuff. My pet rhino did get loose though. Maybe whatever that stuff is could explain it? I'm still in big trouble coz of that. Most of the systems in Paeds went down on the blink and took ages to get them to come back up again."

"Oh yes, that Rhino incident. I know all about it." Michael shook his head. "'Commander Suder wasn't too happy with that, believe me. From what I've heard it went berserk once it got loose, damaging all kinds of equipment. It was pure luck no one got injured. You know that it took us four hours to repair everything?"

Giggling, Kira pouted, "Ohh.. Butthead was just scared. If those security guards hadn't so intimidating, he wouldn't have run. His safeties were on, so he couldn't hurt anyone. Anyway, it wasn't my fault. How come ever time some holodeck problem happens, I get blamed?"

"Uh...no, of course I wasn't implying that you are to blame for it all. It could very well be that the Quick virus was behind it. I just wanted to say that it took Engineering a lot of time to undo the damage that was done. It' s not like we haven't anything else to do."

"Sorry.. I've modified all my holopet programs so they won't cause damage again if they get loose."

Michael smiled a bit nervously. "Ah, it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done. Good, though, that you build in some precautions." He waited a few seconds, mulling over how she had done the modifications. After all, she had told him she wasn't that good in numbers and holo-programming was not something you did just like that.

"Uh,..." Michael frowned slightly and came to the conclusion they had skipped the 'formalities'. "Sorry, but I don't know your name."

Giggling, she smiled and stuck her hand out, "Kira Murphy. And you are?"

Michael nodded once. Her name sounded familiar, but no memories of meeting her once before popped up so he just used the usual answer. "Nice to meet you Kira. I'm Michael. But, what I wanted to ask was if I could see the modifications you've made to your Holopets. That is, if that's alright with you?"

"Sure, that would be fine. Do you do anything apart from work? Like sports?"

While standing from his chair, Michael quickly thought about what he all liked. "Well,...I can't say that I do much about sports, apart from the normal physical training, but I like to play Chess and Golf. That's about it." He smiled. "And you? Do you have any interests?"

Grinning, Kira winked, "Yeah... I like playing all sorts of sports, like wind-surfing, ice-hockey, netball and beach volleyball. Do modeling to, with and without clothes. Also enjoy horse riding, acting, dancing and sunbathing. I like collecting daggers and playing with them, but well, I'm not allowed to at the moment."

Did he hear that right? Modeling without clothes? Michael felt his whole body tense. It wasn't that unusual, since it could just mean she meant nude modeling as a art form. But still, it made Michael nervous again, just as he started feeling a bit comfortable around Kira. She was attractive after all, and his mind was quick in providing images of her posing before the camera before he could force himself to think about something else.

Michael conjured up a big smile trying mask his emotions, while also wishing that there were currently no Betazoids among the people in Ten-Forward. They just exited Ten-Forward when he decided that he just should try to continue the conversation normally. "Uh,...ice-hockey? Never heard about that sport. Is it still played now?"

Smiling mischievously, she nodded, "They still play it a lot back on Earth in Canada and Alaska. There is a Starfleet league too, but I don't really get to play much. When I was in NZ penal, we had a little amateur league though, which was fun. I have a holodeck program setup for it."

"Oh, really. Sounds like, erm...fun." It appeared Kira had quite a colorful background and it made Michael think. "I mean, the ice-hockey program of course." ~NZ penal?~ Was she a real criminal? ~Nah, can't be. Or else she wouldn't be assigned to the Galaxy.~

Kira giggled when she noticed the look on Michael's face. Reaching over to put a hand on his, she smiled, "I can guess what you are thinking. I got thrown in the stockade because of that time I hacked the computer on the first Galaxy. I can teach you how to play ice hockey if you want?"

A slight jolt went through Michael body as he felt Kira's hand upon his. He immediately mentally reprimanded himself for reacting so strongly to it. He gave her a nervous smile. "Well, maybe, if there's still some time left after checking your holopets?"

"The Final Countdown"

by
1st LT T'Shani A'Akledorian
and
Ensign Zeke Wikkens

----------

**Occurs just prior to the Galaxy leaving Wolf 359 and "Uneasy Into the Night"**

=^= Deck 12: HTH Tournement Ring =^=

~Well, at least he's bigger...~ T'Shani thought as she looked over her finalist opponnent. She sighed and rested her body--clad in another skintight, jet-black suit--against the ropes around the ring.

Truthfully, she didn't really care about any of this. Unless they were Klingon, Gorn, Tholian, or...Andorian, there really wasn't any honor in defeating these Pinkskins. But, the crowd seemed to enjoy it....

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome back the defending champion from Andoria Prime: T'Shani A'Akledorian!"

~Here we go, again...~ Tish sighed as she walked seductively into the ring as a huge roar--mostly from the men who had watched her last bout with Hunter--went up. She waved to them, letting a small smile form on her face. Several lude *suggestions* and *requests* were thrown at her, of which she ignored.

No, this time, there would be no *undressing*...

The referee turned his attention to the still prone and dazed Zeke Wikkins. Leo Streely who had only moments before attacked the hulking Security officer with a folding chair, now squatted next to him, slapping him in his face.

"He gonna be able to continue?" the ref asked, a look of concern etched across his brow.

"HEY BACK OFF, PAL!! OK?! OK?! GIVE ME A COUPLE MINUTES OVER HERE!! CAN'T YOU SEE HE JUST SUFFERED A HEAD TRAUMA?!" Streely exploded.

"You got two minutes. If you can't get him up and going, I'm afraid he's going to have to forfiet."

Leo turned his attention to Zeke. "You hear that, Champ? You gotta shake it off. The crowd wants to see you up Champ. They're chanting your name! THEY'RE CHANTING YOUR NAME!!! You with me?" the little man asked, kneeling next to the giant.

"BLA NEIGB XISHBS JBNLLY" Wikkins blabbered incoherantly, still feeling the effects of the chair shot.

Leo nodded solmenly. "Don't worry, 'Danial - San', I saw this in a holo once. I know what to do."

He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a white headband. Fastening it around his head, he clapped his hands together and began to rub them together while breathing rythmaclly. One could almost hear dramatic music playing in the background.

He then laid his hands upon Wikkins forehead and began to squeeze.

Zeke sprung up wildly.

"What are thou doing?!?!" he asked, rubbing his forehead and looking at the crowd who were cheering wildly in anticipation of the slugfest that was brewing brewing.

Leo looked over at the ref. "Zeke Wikkins, from the Streely Dojo is gonna fight."

The ref repeated the announcement and the crowd roared in delight.

"Streely Dojo?! Has thou lost thy mind? I am Amish. I do not attend any other house of worship but the homemade house of the Lord, my God. And if I have somehow replaced Brother Crumbly in the tournament, who is my opposition?"

Leo grinned broadly and pointed to the Andorian woman. "That would be her...."

Zeke's eye widened. "She's...but she's a woman!"

"Now I don't know that for sure. Yet." Leo said tossing a wink and a blown kiss at the Andorian, "But I think you could be right."

The hulking Security officer continued to protest.

"I am AMISH! We never lay our hands upon a woman. Not even during copulation. surely thou must be in jest..."

~Well, fuck this~ Tish thought, annoyed that the big oaf didn't seem to actually *want* to fight. So, instead, *she* began it for him...

**SMACK**

The blow staggered Wikkins who's eyes were wide with amazement. He shook off the wave of pain. "Woman, thy resolve and strength are admirable. Yet I...."

***SMACK***

This time blood trickled from Zeke's lip.

"WHATTSAMATTER WITH YOU?!?! NOW ISN'T THE TIME FOR THAT TURN THE OTHER CHEEK NONSENSE!! STRANGLE HER WITH HER OWN ANTENNA!!" Leo exploded. He then turned his attention to the Andorian. "HEY STEP BACK AND GIVE A GUY ROOM TO BREATH! NICE CHEAP SHOT THERE. YOU GOT BIG BALLS, MAN!"

Tish just stared icily at the little man. ~What the hell is he blabbering about? He's not even...~

Zeke focused on the little man. "What did thou say? She has...orbs?"

Of all the signts in the universe, few were as eerily creepy as when one could see an idea formed across Leo Streely's face.

"Thats right, kid. She's got balls! Big, giant, sweatty, hairy, tattood, smelly testicals! She's a man, kid. She ain't no chick at all!"

Wikkins cracked his knuckles. "Then bear witness..." he said as he whirled and let loose a thunderous right hand that caught Tish squarely in the chest sending her backwards.

~Pretty strong, for a Pinkskin~ Tish thought as she regained her balance, saving herself from an ungracious fall.

And with that the battle was joined. The Andorian was nearly as powerful as the big human, but her technique and training more than made up for it. Minutes passed as punch after counter punch was landed.

Tish's left foot shot out and actually felled the giant. She backed off to give him room to recover and Leo raced to the Security officer's side.

Tish watched, amused as the smaller man raced up to Wikkens.

"I wan't you to sweep the leg."

"Thou what?!?!" Wikkins asked, somewhat confused.

"What is your problem, Mr. Wikkins? Here, on the street, when a man confront's you he is the enemy. An enemy deserves no mercy. Now I want you to sweep the leg. Now."

Zeke back on his feet focused once more on his opponent. He closed the gap between them and feigned another punch, then dopped to his knees and hit Tish in her knee.

~Ooooh, cheap shot, asshole~ was all she could think as she popped her knee back into place, her antennae curling back in anger.

Wikkins staggered and took a moment to catch his breath. He glanced over at Leo to see the little man raise both hands above his head. He then lifted his right leg as if he were imitating a crane. He nodded for Zeke to mimic him and the large man rather awkwardly adopted the strange pose.

Tish moved in close to strike.

Zeke unleashed a kick. Almost simultaniously the Andorian spun her elbow around and connected in the same spot that Wikkins had been attacked with the chair prior to this match. Both fighteres crumpled to the mat atop each other.

The crowd cheered wildly as the ref began to administer the 10 count.

4...

5...

Wikins stirred as Leo screamed at the top of his lungs.

6..

7..

Tish began to rise to her knees.

8..

9..

10..

"THE WINNER BY KNOCKOUT...." the ref announced, then reached out and grabbed the hand of the Andorian woman barely standing next to him.

"LT T'Shani A'Akledorian!!!!"

"You're not the Karate Kid, Ensign," Tish said as she turned and walked out of the ring. This time, with the championship...

"So Gently We Go"

By
Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer

Lt. Commander James Corgan
Chief of Security

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

Rihannsu Ambassador Ramir Omar,
Junior Senator

Lt. jg Ahdjiia D'Tinya,
Security Officer

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Security Officer

Major Saladin Bolivar,
Chief Intelligence Officer

Guest Stars:
Atole Tekri,
Tal Shiar Officer

*****

Deck 12,
Centre Pylon Junction,
Auxiliary Shuttle Bay 2

*****

Perhaps it had been Saladin's influence on her life, but Ahdjiia had packed a small surprise with her during the meeting. A hat'ch'ka jumping spider from Selay. It had a body about the size of an old Terran half dollar coin and was well hidden under her hair at the nape of her neck. They were quite defensive of those they concidered 'theirs', so should anything go amiss and the spider feel she was in danger, it would leap and strike. It's venom was a simple paralytic, would shut down any voluntary muscle control, though it would be quite painful.

Ahdjiia had checked for what anti-venoms were in sickbay as a matter of course concidering her Little Ones and there was ample supply of the hat'ch'ka's venom. That the cure would make one most nauseous was none of her concern for now.

She watched everything with a detached air, though that was far from the truth. Victor's aura was pulling at her, and she was keeping her mind sharp and on the situation at hand.

Saladin stood near his wife, and he had a couple of his own nasty surprises for the assassin. If she was distracted he figured kill her and get rid of the body it was easier and more efficient. There was something about Ahdjiia that he would only notice, he would have to keep an eye on her this time make sure she was fully focused. Or was he being paranoid?

The electricity in the air rankled Corgan, setting his neck hairs back on end. Though his arms were folded behind his back in the standard 'at ease' stance, his hand was always close to the phaser at his hip, and he worried that he would have to use it if the entire situation exploded into a diplomatic nightmare. With all the suspicion cast on Atole Tekri and Ambassador Omar, every officer in the room seemed to be on a razor's edge of pouncing, and Corgan needed to find a solution fast!

Curran remained silent throughout the chessplay. The jockeying for position was evident here. Omar, unsure of the situation with his new arrival stood to one side. Tekri another, the Starfleet officers on yet another. The tension hung thick in the silence, even as the courier crew unloaded the female's goods onto antigrav modules at the shuttle base.

"On behalf of the crew of the USS Galaxy, we welcome you aboard our vessel." James then gave a courteous bow. He was familiar with such diplomatic niceties, being a former OPS officer and versed in first contact procedures.

Kylar threw angry glares at Corgan. Such niceties are the realm of the Liaison Department, not simpleton Security Officers whose only purpose was to give up their meaningless lives for the pleasures of padded Admirals caught up in politics.

Such skills in Corgan's line of work, and the rough nature of his job didn't leave many situations for its use. He hoped his attempt was enough to break up the tension, and move the meeting along quickly before it became an undealable mess.

~"Curran's not going to like this."~ He thought about his more proactive approach to the meeting. But if need be, he was the highest ranking officer after Curran, and could take care of the situation if needed.

Before the Kelvan could cut in, the seductive eyes of the Tal shiar Officer had moved on at the breaking of the silence.

As if his greeting attracted a prison's guard beacon, Atole Tekri's eyes averted to the security chief.

Tekri gazed at him with interest. As the Chief of Security he would be invaluable to her if he were to be properly stimulated. She then approached him with a brightened smile and gleaming eyes.

"Thank you Lieutenant Commander." Her eyes had dropped quickly at the pips on his collar to quickly identifing his rank, but rose back just as quickly in one swift movement, as she had to look up at the taller human. "Your kindness is appreciated." She may not be as tall as he but her commanding demeanour compensated for it.

Victor eyed the woman blandly as she approached James. She was trying too hard for someone to have been sent on this assignment, he decided, it had to be an act. He doubted it would work on Corgan, and it certainly wasn't going to work on him. A part of him watched with interest as the Romulan neared the fringe of his 'aura' and wondered what *her* reaction would be. Not that it mattered, of course, but it would let him know how close he could be before she knew he was there, and that *did* matter.

The Kelvan diplomat watched the woman slink to Corgan with feigned disinterest. As a human, he felt, contrary to what Victor secretly though on is own, that Corgan would fall to the seductions of a woman trained in the arts. He himself felt the tingling sensation of aromas specifically designed to reduce Terran defenses. Yet another part of her training. No devices were left untouched in the Rihannsu secret societies.

"Sub-Centurion." He broke through his reverie to bring the pendulum back to their side.

Tekri did not turn to face him immediately. Her attention was still focused on the Chief Security Officer, who'd remained silent, yet admirably steady to her motions. Curran knew she wasn't even trying. It was just a game to her. Sizing the opposition up.

Having the Chief of Security in your graces would make her an enormous threat.

And James knew that very well.

~"More interested in me than I thought. Great job, you walking lightning rod."~ Corgan chided himself while staying stoically straight. Tekri was poison, that much he knew for certain. Her feminine wiles, though untested, were somewhat alluring. But his role in the entire farce, the real sizing up of opponents, kept the security chief in focus. The feelings James felt around her was a hybridization of having one's grave being stepped on, a slight flush of embarrasment, and an acknowledgement of physical attaction. But hidden so well that only the most attentive could see.

But if he kept his role up, she would be close, and easier to keep tabs on. ~"Then it's settled. I'm going to be the dupe."~ He decided, ~"Leave me with the precarious tasks..."~

Curran instead, glancing to Krieghoff, whose jaw hardened even more so than it was, which didn't seem possible, came to a position immediately to her right. Krieghoff to her left.

"Am I to be arrested, Legate?" She finally turned her eyes away from Corgan to rest on Krieghoff, whom she took to with glimmered interest.

~"Hmph. Good jest."~ James contained a smile of amusement before it could breach.

Victor filed away the distance at which she had first noticed him - shorter than most, which although interesting, was really only significant in that it meant he could get to within a meter or so of her before she would know he was there - and turned his expressionless eyes on her for a moment before flicking them away dismissingly. He considered smiling at her, but discarded the idea, things were tense enough without that.

"No, Sub-Centurion, but if you care to follow me, I'll show you to your quarters." He looked to the Ambassador, whom he knew not to be in control over the theatrical play unfolding before them.

"Fine Then." Tekri moved away from the Chief of Security with apparent reluctance though not without smiling at him again. She would have to visit him later.

"You are very kind, Legate." She followed him to her quarters.

~Not as kind as you would think, Sub-Centurion~ Curran mused, drifting over the Rihannsu's form. She was sleek, like a cat poised to spring at a moment's notice. The swagger in her step matched Corgan's precisely in surmised confidence. She was certainly working the Terran to her advantage.

We'll soon see if it's a liability or an advantage.

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