“The Other Shoe Drops”

(With excerpts from ‘Illumination’ and use of Brex and Circidon)

Cmdr Jaal Jaxom
SO/Ops Manager
USS Miranda

==Bridge==

The environmental systems were finally starting to vent the smoky haze from the bridge. During the brief conflict, several consoles and panels had gotten ‘cooked’. Even the main operations console had suffered burning Jaal’s left and badly.

A medical team was already on the scene. Jaal’s hand was quickly disinfected and bandaged up for the time being. He’d have to report to sickbay later for further treatment. Meanwhile, teams of engineers were working feverishly to patch things up in case the attackers came back. It was an event that was fully expected at this point.

“Sir,” Circidon announced from behind the tactical arch, “We’re intercepting a transmission from the Breen Home world to the Galaxy.”

Brex and Jaal looked at each other curiously. ‘Here it comes,’ Jaal thought.

“On speakers,” Brex ordered.

[Federation starships, you are hereby ordered to stand down. The battle is over.]

[This is Captain M'Kantu of the Federation starship Galaxy. The hostiles have retreated, but they are most likely to return. The battle is far from over.]

[Captain M'Kantu, I am Thot Gor. Governor Born is no longer representing the Breen Confederacy. He placed too much belief in your treaty and abilities to protect us and has paid the price. You though, have failed in your promises. Therefore, we are dissolving the treaty as it stands and placing your diplomatic envoys under arrest as per your failure to maintain your... how do you humans put it? ... end of the bargain.]

[Your revolutionary situation is not our concern, Thot Gor. We were invited under the pretense of a formal request by your government-]

[Which you will continue to follow through on unlike the false promises of the past. We are only taking measures to assure our species survival in that you do not break this promise as well. Your crew shall be returned, once you have completed the task we require of you. If you do not comply, we shall terminate one of your crew ever hour until you do.]

[You cannot do that! Not all your government would concede to this barbaric act.]

[I suppose you would be correct on that observation, Captain. If any were still alive.]

All eyes on the Miranda’s bridge became glued to the view screen. Jaal had managed to reroute it’s visual protocols around some damaged data lines and a picture of the space ahead of the ship flickered into being.

Ahead, the Gravnor, having received its predetermined signal from the surface, instantly powered up. The two Breen cruisers that had accompanied the ships to Breen finally illuminated themselves as they came out of cloak. They fired on the Gravnor, instantly disintegrating it. Its debris rained down on the Galaxy's shields, lighting it up in a plethora of color.

“Those Bastards!” Jaal said aloud. He gritted his teeth. ‘I knew they couldn’t be trusted,’ he thought.

Brex looked anxious, and quickly asked, “Our away teams Jaal?”

Jaal quickly regained his composure as his fingers flew across the sensor console for any signs of survivors from the destroyed vessel. After one tense minute he informed, “The Galaxy has ‘em Sir. Thank Gods for M’Kantu’s quick thinking.”

“Indeed,” came the reply from the center seat. A collective sigh of relief could be felt across the bridge.

The conversation between the USS Galaxy and the apparent new Breen leader continued.

[That is for attempting to delay the inevitable, Captain.]

[Did you get them, Sub-Commander?]

[I cannot confirm or deny it, Captain. The impact debris disrupted my console while they were in transit.]

[You would kill your own people for a revolution? It's more like a coup from this perspective.]

“You can say that again,” Jaal commented wryly. Several others nodded in agreement.

[I will do what is necessary for my people to survive. Now, not a moment to waste. To prove my point, I shall terminate one of the hostages.]

[No, wait!]

But Gor didn't wait. The very identifiable whine of a disruptor blast echoed over the subspace wave, the shriek that followed barely lasting a moment. It sounded very humanoid, indeed.

Everyone on the Miranda’s bridge bowed their heads a moment. This was getting worse by the second. How much worse would it get? Right now, Jaal wanted to beam down and choke Thot Gor with his bare hands. The Trill’s stomach instantly felt nauseated as the shriek died away. He cursed under his breath through clenched teeth in his native language. His knuckles turned white from gripping the armrests on his chair too hard.

[What is it you want us to do, Thot?]

[Quite simple, Captain. You and the Miranda are to locate the T`Kith`Kin and Hydran encampments and destroy them. You showed a sample of strength against the insectoids. More firepower than we've been able to muster under the oppression of your treaty.]

[How do we know you'll return our crew? You've already proven ruthless and untrustworthy.]

[Why, you don't know, Captain. Now, you have 10 of your Terran minutes to break orbit and begin your search. If you have not left by then, we shall execute another of your crew. Then another, and another. Now, honor your part of the treaty.]

[You mean the one you dissolved?]

[Does it matter now, Captain? Really? You have 8 minutes. Oh, before you depart... I would suggest you do not try to leave the system. We've activated the system perimeter defenses with fusion mines. Any attempt to leave will result in rather serious - if not fatal - damage to your ships. We'll know, and then terminate the rest of your landing party.]

“I expect we’ll be getting a call any second now,” Circidon said with her usual sarcasm firmly in place.

Just then, the commpanel on Jaal’ console beeped for attention. He spun in his chair favoring his injured hand, “It’s for you Commander,” he said with barely hidden anger showing itself once again.

"The Senators."

Colonel Omar surveyed the senate with disdain.

Since the recent barbaric Reman uprising, Omar's influence had increased significantly - both through the Tal Shiar and the senate. However, while his influence and power had increased, his relationship with his son had deteriorated.

They had both been side-by-side, once. The Tal Shiar colonel exerted his influence on the military, while his son exerted his influence on the senate.

Things were very different these days. The colonel had even gone as far as using his own son as a pawn for his politics.

He looked - with distaste - at one specific senator.

The senator who had fathered the traitorous Savar.

It was highly irritating that the sub-commander was still alive - even if he was in exile. However, his father wasn't. Colonel Omar had dealt with all of the senators who had sympathised with sub-commander Savar - except his own father.

Through the actions of his traitorous son, the senator's power had dwindled significantly, but it was still not enough.

Even worse, he and his son clearly shared a dislike for the Omar house.

The colonel then wondered what other feelings they shared: treachery perhaps?

The senate meeting ended, abruptly interrupting his thoughts. He usually wouldn't be worrying, he considered - as he stepped out of the senate building and into the bright sunlight - if it wasn't for that dangerous mission he had sent a certain Tal Shiar spy on. He had heard nothing from Tekri for a whole week, and he hoped she hadn't been detained and compromised by ever-irritating Starfleet.

He smoothed his military uniform as his bodyguard opened the ground car door.

He was going to have to contact his son.

The pawn.

Eshe, Dhanishta
Lieutenant Jg
Engineer Galaxy

BACK POST

“The Zhian’tara.”

The Zhian'tara, this was her masterful plan to rid herself of the troublesome, emotional, violent Naut.

It was a ceremony performed for a joined trill by a Guardian of the symbiont pools (a non joined trill). The purpose of the Zhian’tara was to extract each previous host from the symbiont and temporally install them into a volunteer, (usually friend/s of the joined trill) so that the current host can interact with its previous occupants in a one on one scenario.

How Dhanishta was going to extract Naut, which was essentially a part of her own psyche, so that she could interact with her face to face was… erm, well… a mystery.

Which was why she was on her way to the shuttle bay to find the only person on the ship with life times of experience, one so much older than she, who had performed the ceremony a dozen times before, the only person who might be able to tell her if her plan would actually work. The only problem was which rotten, manky, mangled corpse was he?

She walked down the halls of the Galaxy, her baggy white cotton pants fluttering in the wake of her walk, her skinny fit black tank top detailing the contours of her chest, after all what was the point in wearing her uniform? She wasn’t on duty, and after her violent attack on Turan it was unlikely that she would see the inside of engineering anytime in the next century.

During her ‘stomps’ round the ship, which she had ritually taken every day to pass the time between counselling sessions, she was surprised that she hadn’t visited this deck. Maybe it was the possibility that the fighter pilots were even more gross to look at than the rest of the crew. Or maybe it was the underlying fear that there was going to be nothing left of them to look at. And what was more disturbing; seeing walking skeletons or a pile of humanoid remains stuck together? Would bits of them actually fall off as they spoke?

With the imagery of that last thought Dhani stopped. Turning on her heals she strode back to the turbo lift.

“Deck eight.” She called out. Sighing she leaned against the wall. ~ Plan B ~, she thought, ~ what the hell is plan B? ~

Eshe, Dhanishta
Lieutenant (Jg)
Engineer

BACK POST

“Letters to my Psyche Part Two.”

“NAUT!” Dhanishta shouted as the doors to her quarters closed behind her,

“We need to talk!”

After feeding her starving cat, Salem, she headed straight for her bathroom, dropping a garment of clothing with each step. For the past three days Dhani had been stuck in the Brig. Sitting in her holding cell listening to Naut and her inner voices thrash things out, or rather shout the same things over and over, covered in her own puke and Truans blood, she had one hell of a headache and boy did she stink.

Stepping into the cubical she turned on the water. She usually preferred sonic showers, they were quicker and more efficient, but there was something more cleansing about a shower with water. Not just the obvious factor but a more spiritual one, cleansing the sole, washing away her sins. And she was in need of that, after attacking Truan…..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Previously in ‘You were my husband’ (by Truan Trelar and Dhanishta Eshe)*

“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 another 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 flying 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 girlie slaps erupted from her, no scratches or half punches, oh no! Every blow made solid contact with a part of his anatomy….

****

Dhani sighed and turned up the water a few degrees. Testing it on the back of her hand she watched as the spray filled up the tiny hairs on her arm. Stepping under the cascade she lowered her head feeling the water as it pounded on the back of her neck. Slowly she turned around letting the water flow all over her body, tickling her slightly as it rippled and rolled down her back and off her bottom.

Prior to that she had been signed off duty after having died! The events leading up to that were quite shocking, after having been trained by a Vulcan ‘n’ all. Having suffered with insomnia for months, well, since she joined the ship, she had tried seeking help from her old mentor Sark – the Vulcan. He unfortunately managed to piss her off even more and, enraged she totally trashed her quarters. Then proceeded to get drunk in the bar, during which her C.O showed up, Commander Ethan Suder. After a fisticuffs with him, passing out, throwing up and passing out again she was miraculously late for work, no surprise there!

What she hadn’t realised, even the in the morning as she tried to get dressed for work, with McDowell screaming at her over the comm, pulling socks over swelling and bleeding feet, is just how much damage she had done to herself during the night.

Apart from the minor cuts, slashes and bruises over her feet, legs, arms, chest and face, she had a broken or rather shattered one of her hands. She had a severe concussion – a nasty gash to the head (a possible skull factor.) But the icing on the cake was the punctured lung caused by a broken rib. The latter two occurred when she launched herself on to her bed which happened not to be there, aka landing very heavily on the floor and god only knows what else. Not surprising that her body said ‘sod off’ and gave up the ghost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Previously in ‘Inner Struggle’ by Dhanishta Eshe and Michael McDowell.)

Michael knew it the instant he felt Dhani's body slump down. His heart skipped a beat. The next instant anxiety took hold of him which turned into panic. "No, No! Don't do this to me Dhani!! Don't you do this to me!" Michael shouted. The next instant he hit his combadge. "McDowell to Sickbay.

Medical emergency! Beam us straight to Sickbay, now!!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But eh, he. Those Starfleet doc’s wouldn’t have any of that!

But the events between then and now, well they were harder to place. Mostly because they didn’t actually happen….but they had!

Ah the confusion of temporal mechanics.

Dhani watched as each bubble like droplet bounced off her skin taking with it the dirt and grime of the last few days. If only it were as simple as that to remove all the things she had done, which were as equally filthy. With her index finger she traced a single stream of water back up to the nozzle, feeling the pressure build under her nail.

Turan didn’t remember the 30 years Dhani had spent with him on Quintin, he didn’t even know who she was, not a single spark of recognition. Maybe that was for the best, the last thing Dhani really wanted was a teenager with a crush on her tail. To actually explain that she or rather Naut never actually loved him, would just be too much to face.

But still the hurt ran deep.

Walking around the ship and hearing the crew recall their deaths, like it was some bad dream was worse enough. The fact that they could all dismiss it as such infuriated her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

("Previously in ‘Freedom to Know’ by Captain Eliza Stuart and Lieutenant JG Dhanishta Eshe.)

"You have no idea what happened here, do you" Dhani asked

"Not in the least," Eliza replied truthfully. She knew nothing of the investigation.

"Come." She said grabbing the Captains arm and leading her like a child to the bridge.

"You see this person here?" she questioned pointing to the nearest body, "Man or woman? Hard to tell isn't it. But I can reach out and grab its spinal cord and play puppet show!" She turned sharply to the next unsuspecting person that wondered by, "You!" she called out, "You died on impact." Turning on her heals she strode across the bridge to the next person, "You weren't even on the bridge." She began to point at people, it looked random to the naked eye but she was right on every account, "You died when a falling support beam hit you, took your head right off! You were crushed to death." She was by the main view screen now, all eyes on her, as she addressed the entire occupants of the bridge,

"All those dreams you've been having; the nightmares of death, your death, however horrible, however gruesome. Well they are real. It happened. But do you know why?" She turned and looked down at the helms officer she stood next to, "You, do you know why you died?" She didn't wait for an answer just turned to the next. Pointing up to the tactical station, "You, she called out." Whilst making her way forward towards the arc, "Do you know what valiant cause you gave your life for so freely?" She turned back to the Captain, almost on top of her now, nose to nose, "Don't you think they should?" she questioned with such force that spit sprayed from her mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ah the last bit! The head. A shower was never refreshing without getting the hair wet. The ticklish sensation as only one or two droplets make it through the mass of hair to the scalp, and then as the rest follow through, soaking the entire head, completing the rejuvenation process.

Dhani sighed again; all these conflicting emotions were tearing her apart. She was like a walking ‘jack in the box’, exploding at the most inappropriate moments. Her C.O thought she was crazy, and to be honest he was probably right. The ships counsellor was never going to let her see the insides of engineering any time soon, and with the amount of time she had spent in sick bay she should really put in for a transfer!

She turned off the water. Leaning with both palms on the wall she lowered her head, the continuous arguments with Naut, neither one letting the other finish for fear of being quashed out of existence, was killing her. Her body ached from the strain, her head throbbed from the stress and her nose bled from the pressure, it had to stop.

She had to find a way.

She lingered in the shower cubical a while longer, the water dripping from her body, splashing to the floor, mingling with the excess. She wiggled her toes in the puddle till it drained.

She had to find a way.

A Naut free way.

Eshe, Dhanishta
Lieutenant Jg
Engineer Galaxy

BACK POST

“Plan B”

It was at times like these Dhani was grateful that her father was a scientist, and that she actually listened when he explained things to her, Kala never had. Being daddy’s little girl was finally going to pay off.

The science lab was deserted at this time of night, which made it easier for Dhani to cover her tracks as she was sure that ‘plan B’ would be against all Starfleet protocol.

Sitting down at a station she began tapping away at the control panel. Finding the information she needed was easy, but finding the ingredients was going to be the hard part. It wasn’t standard Starfleet protocol to supply hallucinogenic drugs, never mind the information of the ingredients to make them yourself.

After several hours she stood up in front of her computer screen, each hand beside it. Her eyes were wide from staring at it for so long. The computer banks were full of information about the drugs, spanning back century’s for each species and their cultures but none of them specified there ingredients or quantities. And so far none of the drugs mentioned were suitable for the task at hand. She knew that it was a desperate measure, but that was her situation, desperate.

Sighing she turned away and rubbed the back of her neck. She had been in the same position for hours and her muscles had ceased up. Time for a break she decided. Leaving the science lab she wondered down the halls, no destination in mind. There were quite a few officers milling about and she guessed that it must be about seven in the morning, what a long fruitless night it had been. After a while she found her self in the mess hall, in line for the repilactor.

Not knowing what she wanted she listened to the others in front of her, hoping that there orders would inspire her,

“Full English breakfast.” Was the first order that she overheard by some young human lieutenant.

“Raktajino.” Was the next made by a yet another human.

“You look like you could use some herbal tea.”

Dhani looked up, wondering if that comment was directed at her. It wasn’t, it was directed at the young ensign ordering the raktajino.

“Really?” he asked, “I thought strong coffee was the way to go after pulling a double shift.”

The woman shook her head, “Oh no, herbal tea is much more refreshing, and it’s better for you. Once you go herbal you’ll never go back.” She giggled. Obviously flirting but Dhani didn’t wait to hear any more. She fled out of thee mess hall and back to her quarters. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? She had a bag full of different types of herbs in her quarters. She felt like kicking herself.

It didn’t take very long for her quarters to become a bomb site as she rampaged through cargo crates looking for the herbs.

Salem wondered through, dodging flying objects, mewing as he went, obviously hungry. Dhani scoped him up, “look what I’ve found..” she said waving the bag in front of him, a grin across her face. Salem mewed again brushing his head against her chin.

“Okay, okay.” She cooed as she walked over to the replicator. “Cat food.” She ordered. Putting Salem down she gave him his food and watched him for a moment as he tucked in.

Sitting down at her desk she began to plan out her ritual for ridding herself of Naut once and for all. She had the herbs, all she needed now was a large mirror some candles and some incense…….

Pilot Tyten
Vanguard 5
USS Galaxy

"Do Not Go Quietly Into That Cold Night"

Someone was screaming.

Why didn't someone stop them?

Someone was still screaming and it was bothering him.

Someone should really stop that person.

Tyten's mind floated between consciousness and unconsciousness as the screaming continued. Something cold and painful started in his arm and swept through his body. It was at that moment, with grim discovery, that Tyten realised that he was the one screaming. Even as he did, he felt his life force fading, ever slowly.

He was being tortured.

The memory of what had transpired over the last ten minutes caming flooding back. They had wanted information. Information about the capabilities of his fighter, about his duties on the ship, and any other confidential information that he might have. He had resisted them with every ounce of strength he had. The end result had been that he now had none.

Now, he lay on this table of their's not wanting to go on. He had had enough. If they wanted to kill him over information that he was unwilling to give to them despite the pain, then so be it. He would die in honor having given nothing to a ruthless enemy. And so, he let go, consigning his soul to the fates. The screaming stopped and he smiled.

He just wish it wasn't so annoyingly cold.

"Tyten..."

Her voice was pleasing to his ears and somehow...was familiar.

"Tyten, honey, it's not your time."

He opened his eyes to see the woman from his dreams. The one who the younger version of himself had called mother. She stood there before him and the only thing that he could think of was that someone needed to get her a coat.

"Mooommmm?" he said slowly. His mind felt like he was trudging through water.

She smiled. "You need to stay here. You are needed here," she said.

"But why?"

"You are not meant to leave this life like this and not at this time. Fight it!"

And as if that was answer enough, she was gone. Her voice was replaced by a low laughter, a sound much harsher on his ears. He looked and saw two figures standing over him. The man in the dark cloak. Tyten knew somehow that it was his voice that was laughing.

A third figure joined them.

"Have you achieved anything?"

"No, but it is only a matter of time," said the man in the dark cloak.

"Time is a luxuary that you do not have. It is finished. Wipe his memory and let him go. We will gather the information from the others."

"But I.." the man in the dark cloak began but a sharp look from the other man cut him short.

"Do it quickly."

**********

Tyten cursed his bladder. There was something about the cold that made his bladder become overly active. A joke about yellow snow crossed his mind but he decided that it was probably best kept to himself. He stepped out of what had constitued a Breen bathroom. He had become too acustom to Federation comforts, something the Breen had never experienced themselves after what he just experienced.

Looking at his escort he said, "Well, I think I'm ready to join the others again."

“It’s a Prototype!”

(Backpost - En-Route to Breen homeworld)

Commander Jerri Wolfson,
Chief Engineer

Commander Jaal Jaxom,
Chief Operations Officer

Lieutenant (JG) Ariss Edon
Security/Tactical Officer

USS Miranda
Main Engineering

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Stepping into main engineering, Ariss looked at the warp core in appreciation. ~ Now 'this' is impressive ~ he thought. For a moment, he wondered briefly why he had transferred from engineering. Fixing things was fun, and there was a definite 'yes or no' to most problems. Security was, well, a little more open to interpretation at times, there was occasionally more than one answer to a problem. Law was confusing at times. ~ Though you do get to shoot things ~ he thought with a smile.

"Can I help you Sir?"

Confused briefly, Ariss didn't answer. He looked around for the officer, then realised the Ensign was addressing him. ~ That's gonna take a bit more getting used to! ~ "No thank you Ensign. I'm just here to see the Chief and Commander Jaxom." Walking through engineering, Ariss tapped on the chiefs office door. “Commander?” Sticking his head round the door, “Permission to come in?” he asked.

Jerri looked up at the sound, carefully putting down the PADD she and Jaal had been looking at on top of the rather precarious stack of components and PADDs that she had been accumulating over the years. Like she had contended for a long time, they really did multiply the minute one turns their head. "Come on in, Lieutenant. Is this the man you were telling me about, Jaal?"

The Trill commander nodded, "Yeah, he has some interesting ideas for some new holography. I thought it would be worth a look. I didn't want to go screwing with anything in 'your' territory though." He winked once at the Chief Engineer. The long standing 'friendly' rivalry between engineering and operations had always been great amusement to Jaal.

Walking into the office, Ariss stepped up to the desk and put the FEMH and his PADDs down before standing to attention. “Thank you for taking the time to se me Commanders.” Looking between the two. “Well sirs,” picking up a PADD, “Where would you like me to begin. I’ve got all my data and test notes here, as well as the device itself.”

"I've generally found that the beginning works best. Or, rather, simple explanation then get into the technical mumbo-jumbo," Jerri advised with a brief smile.

“Aye Sir” Ariss said smiling. “Basically Sirs, what I have here is a self contained, fully autonomous, Field Emergency Medical Hologram. I got the idea from a project pathfinder report. As you can see," he said, activating the unit, "it's a lot larger than the voyager device, but this has been created with current tech. What I have managed to do, is create a Mobile holo emitter, that should allow a Mark I EMH, to operate outside a holo equipped environment for up to four days. Though I'm working on extending that."

Picking up a PADD, he passed it to Wolfson. "This is the technical specs of the unit sir," pushing the floating device over the desk, he left it there for inspection. "The unit itself will be encased in the hologram, so it'll be unseen. And it's shielded, so it can withstand radiation and energy levels far beyond what a protected humanoid could tolerate. It has a standard backup holo matrix core, with two miniature bio-neural gel packs for processing. Only one is actually needed, the other is a redundant. Anti gravs keep it afloat within the hologram, and provide movement for it as well. Speed is comparable to a normal human. There are other bits here obviously, but it's all in the specs. Extra memory buffers have been installed, and the Mk I database has been upgraded as far as I could. It's approximately the level of a Mark V now."

"I had to use a Mark One, because of processing limitations, but I've made no changes to the holo matrix except for the database, and the physical parameters. At the CMO's suggestion, I've altered the Doc so 'he' is now a 'she'. One, because of the acronym. FEMH. And the other occurred to me after. It'll differentiate this EMH from our backup in sickbay.

Picking up another PADD, he checked it and put it on the desk between the officers. "That's a run down of the tests I've performed on the unit, and its operational parameters." Picking up another PADD, "And this one is a report on the unit when it was used briefly in the GQ. We had to get her help there when a Q'Lrn probe was in distress."

"The CMO didn't seem overly, enthusiastic, but suggested I speak to you regarding this." Shutting up for a second, Ariss looked at the two officers.

"What's wrong with the old EMH that has caused you to come up with an entirely new design?" Jaal asked curiously.

"Well, absolutely nothing. That's why I've used the basic Mk I EMH, as I said, I've made almost no modifications to it. The only reason I'm using a Mk I template is hardware issues. This unit would have difficulties with a Mk III, and wouldn't be able to support a Mk V. It's down to processing and the holo matrix. As far as I'm concerned the EMH is a great tool. All I'm working on here is mobility. The EMH on Voyager proved an invaluable asset to them, especially since their doctor died as soon as they got to the Delta Quadrant. The EMH's usefulness and resourcefulness increased when they obtained a mobile emitter."

Tapping the device, "That's all this really is. A dedicated EMH integrated into the hardware. The mobility aspect is what I've been working on here. The EMH has advantages over a biological doctor; she can't be affected by a lot of environmental factors that would stop a normal doctor, nor can she be affected telepathically."

Jaal rubbed his chin in thought. He was eager to hear Jerri's assessment before making any comments of his own.

Wolfson skimmed through the specs with a thoughtful frown on her face, "Well, we know that what you've proposed is feasible, even doable. The benefits are obvious, however, what I am curious about are the safety protocols that you've installed on the device. Your modifications have impacted some of the critical components of the software, admittedly not many, but enough for concern."

"It looks to me like you're trying to create, if you haven't already, an autonomous 'being'. A holographic android? Would that be right?" Jaal asked.

Looking slightly confused for a second, Ariss nodded. “I tried to alter the holo matrix as little as possible Sir, where I did make changes I tried to stick to the ‘manual’ as it were I found on the computer. There is a very good interactive diagnostic program built into the Mk I, based on Doc Zimmerman, I used it to ask about the changes I made. He was, well, somewhat acerbic about me playing with his creation. I didn’t realize my modifications had impacted the unit in that way Sir. I’m no holo programmer, so I tried to play around as little as possible.”

"As to the ‘holographic android’. I suppose, yes, you could see it that way. The EMH's already have a measure of autonomy, it's designed into them so they can do their job. Decision making and conversational abilities so they can interact and adapt. This model simply has the advantage of mobility. It's really the logical next step for the EMH. The idea is already out there, courtesy of the EMH from Voyager, sooner or later someone like me was bound to try and reproduce the idea. If you think about it, based on the possible future Voyager must have encountered, the idea's there, we just haven't built it yet." Wrinkling his forehead in confusion, Ariss stopped and looked confused for a second. "I'm not sure that made complete sense, and I'm not going to go back and think about it.”

“Prophets. I hate temporal mechanics!" He finished, still looking a little confused.

"Yeah, me too," Jaal added. "They 'always' give me a headache."

Nodding, “Anyway,” Ariss said, “Getting back to the Doc here, how would she need to be, ‘tweaked’ I guess to ensure stability and operational safety?”

Several answers came to Jaal's mind, all of which brought a playful mental admonishment from Taalis, but what he said was, "I'll need to study the program for a bit, then I'll be able to give a more informed answer." he looked at Jerri, "What do you think?"

"Well, being able to study it further would be a boon," Jerri nodded after a thoughtful pause, "For the moment, I'll recommend further study on Jaal's part. He is, after all, the resident 'computer geek.'” She grinned slightly before she continued, "I'll need to review your schematics further before I can give you any recommendations, as well. Can we adjourn this discussion until, say, tomorrow at 1300 hours to give each of us a chance to review what you have here?"

“Sure, sounds fine,” Ariss agreed. Tapping the FEMH gently, he let it float over to Commander Wolfson, picking up his PADD’s he considered which precarious pile of PADD’s to put these extra one’s on. Choosing a vacant spot on the desk, he decided instead to start another pile. “Thanks for you time Sir, both of you, I appreciate it, and thanks for listening.”

"The 'Kids' Story: Bregman Muscles in" or (ala Emmett) "Kid, you have NO idea who you're dealing with."

by Emmett Bregman
(Laurel)

&
Tyrone Miller (Rich)

----

Have you ever noticed how Starfleet officers can seem to run around like chickens with their heads cut off during a crisis? Be it a battle, an alien virus, or Klingons in tutus, it's a barely controlled chaotic mess. Personally, I've always found it rather funny.

Rundell gave me the usual 'keep to the shelter' speech during the attack - like I actually listen to him. So I did my own usual nod, smile, and sneak out after the good Commander left the deck. With Chip and Dale - my two erstwhile camera and sound men - in tow, I decided to make my rounds. Or, rather, to make my rounds of the shelters. Human interest stories are wonderful things - especially when they're punctuated by stories of heroism, knights on white chargers, and other such crap. Besides, they were mostly civilians. They couldn't pass on the death threats and otherwise quite like the main players on the ship after all.

Of course, I knew that there would be some competition on the good starship Galaxy now, but that didn't bother me much. I was, after all, representing FNN *and* the President of the Federation, himself. Am I bragging? Hell yes. I wouldn't be Emmett Bregman if I wasn't.

Besides, it's what people expect. It is, I suppose, why they love me so much...

-------

Emmett Bregman, documentary maker, journalist, senior field reporter, and assorted other titles earned or otherwise, walked into the shelter (not quite his assigned one, but hey, the Galaxy crew knew his penchant for wandering) with a saunter in his step and a gleam in his eye. Those that knew him well would recognize that particular gleam as one to be rather wary of. Then again, none of these civilians knew him well for which they were probably thankful - that is if they knew him.

His trained eyes caught the sign of the Dictaphone and the kid who obviously knew how to use it. Admittedly the 'kid' was probably only ten years younger than he, but that still made him a 'kid' in his eyes. A 'kid' in his territory. Pasting a smile on his face, Emmett approached the 'kid' and held out his hand. "Emmett Bregman, FNN, currently assigned to the Galaxy with a documentary crew. And you are?"

Tyrone turned around to see the man who'd identified himself as Emmett Bregman. 'So there were Rival Journalists on the Galaxy' he thought. Bluntly he replied, "Miller, Tyrone Miller. Federation News Service." He didn't even take the offered hand, and why the hell should he. This was his story, and someone was trying to muscle in on what could be the greatest story of his career.

Emmett arched an eyebrow at the refusal to shake his hand, but he continued smiling amiably enough. He definitely caught the 'how dare you come in here' tone in Tyrone's voice and decided to continue talking with the 'kid' just to see how he'd react. That was one of the things that amused Emmett the most - the reactions of others. "FNS, huh? This a permanent assignment to the Galaxy for you, Tyrone, or are you just stopping through?" Besides, this kid better not be here for a documentary. If he was, well...this was his turf. Alpha dog, and all that jazz.

"We'll see," he replied. Truth be told, he'd only been told about his assignment to the Galaxy mere hours before they'd been shipped out, and even then he was only told he was covering the Breen story. He'd never even considered that he could be a permanent correspondent for the Galaxy. It seemed ironic that for a journalist he didn't have much interest in conversation at the minute. "Listen, Bregman. I don't know who you are or what you expect me to say to you, but this is my story, and I intend to get it."

"It's a big ship, kid," Emmett shrugged, though inwardly he was chuckling at the posing. News was, after all, free. That the 'kid' didn't even recognize him was actually something of a shock. Most journalists had heard of their competitors, especially when it came to the more *ahem* famous ones. But he wasn't bragging or anything of the sort. "Plenty of room provided you don't burn some rather well connected bridges. Look up Pulitzer and Academy award winners when you get the chance, kid. You might be surprised what you find. Shep, Dale," he directed the last to his camera crew, "Let's set up over there."

Bregman pointed towards a huddled group of civilians situated next to a rather prime shot of the view "outside" - brought courtesy of cameras and sensors situated on the hull or, in the case at the moment, of the ship's computer library. It was one of the things that was an attempt to calm those who were stuck 'indoors' during the fight.

Watching this guy set up his team nearby in the shelter was interesting to say the least. To Ty, it seemed like this Bregman guy was a bit of a show off, and very hung up on himself. It was almost like he thought of himself as being on a higher level of existence and intelligence than anybody else. Tyrone found that quite amusing. 'And what was that about Academy Awards', Miller thought.

"Shep," Emmett said gesturing for the cameraman to start recording. The best news broadcasts had very few images of the actual reporter, and more of those that were right in the middle of whatever newsworthy event that was taking place. Besides, he did know what award winning footage looked like - he *was* Emmett Bregman after all.

Miller wandered over to Bregman and his crew. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" This was his story; his story. The last thing he wanted was some self serving egotist who only seemed to be interested in screwing up everyone else's day. 'And all that from my first impression', Miller thought.

Emmett looked at the kid with an _expression of disgust, rather possessive kid wasn't he? "What do you *think* I'm doing? It's called a news broadcast, kid. They must really keep you sheltered over at FNS. Now why don't you go back to playing with your Dictaphone and let a master work?" After that speech, Emmett completely dismissed Tyrone from his 'sphere of thought' and continued directing Shep towards the more 'choice' footage. He'd be ready for his actual coverage within the next ten minutes or so. He just needed to figure out just the right verbage...

Tyrone was getting tired of this. And having Bregman just dismiss him like that only made the situation worse. One thing he did know, was that if he kept talking on the footage, the sound would be useless, and what was a news feed without sound. "I know what it is", he said in a disgruntled tone, "what I wanna know is why you're doing it here."

Emmett smiled to himself, 'Ah, a challenge.' He knew what the kid thought he was doing. Amateur. Didn't he realize that it wasn't necessary to have the sound on when capturing footage? Bregman turned to face the kid and placed his hand on Tyrone's shoulder and turned him to face the other end of the shelter, "I told you what it was, kid. If you can't comprehend the why of this, that's not my fault. It's yours and your leash holders. Go back to playing in your sandbox before you hurt yourself." He gave him a gentle push towards the opposite bulkhead and returned his attention to his camera crew. "Dale, capture some sound bites from over there," he gestured towards the other side of the shelter. The Starfleet officer nodded and walked in that direction. Slowly walking back to where he'd been making his notes for his story, he vowed that it would not be over between Bregman and him. He also vowed that he would indeed look up Award winners, and see what Bregman was getting on his high horse about. It was far from over...

Commander Jack Dawson
Asst. Chief Engineer
USS Miranda

"Second Hand Smoke"

Working with all the fury and might that his hands could muster, Jack tried to repair the relay to the fire supression unit on Deck 12, section four. With each hit that the T'Kith'Kin and Hydrans scored on the Miranda, Jack could imagine Jerri down in Engineering cursing and shaking her fist at them. He laughed, which cause him to inhale, which in turn caused him to take in smoke that was starting to fill the deck, which ultimately resulted in him coughing.

"Sir, are you ok?" a junior grade lieutenant nearby questioned him.

Jack waved him off as he said, "I'm fine. Just took up a little more smoke than I expected to." He looked around at the growing fire. "We need to get some hand units down here to put these fires out before they spread. That last shot fried a lot more than we initially thought. First order of business is getting people out of this section. Can I trust you to do that?"

The officer nodded and headed on his way. Black soot coverd his face and small beads of sweat cut their way through the grime. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his arm. He had long abandonded his uniform jacket and had zipped open his undershirt exposing his neckline. At first look, one might have mistaken him for a miner rather than an engineer, though there was some debate by some that they were one in the same.

"Jack."

Jack turned to see who had called his name, but found no one there.

"Jack, come back to us."

This time he stood and turned completely. He checked down the corridor, but aside from a few work crews who appeard to be focused solely on their work, no one else was around. Shrugging it off, he turned back to his work when a scream ripped though the corridor. Jumping, he sprinted down the hallway. "What was that!?" he demanded of the work crews.

The action served to only garner him a few confused looks. "What was what, sir?"

Feeling very chagrined, he said, "I thought I heard someone scream. Nevermind, must have been hearing things."

Walking back to his tools, it hit him three times harder than it had been before. This time it was several voices and this time he realized that it wasn't Federation standard that he was hearing and now he recognized the voices. It was T'Kith'Kin and the voices belonged to those he had heard every night for years.

"Jack, we're just outside. You could come home to us," a stronger voice said over them all.

There was no mistaking this voice for he had loathed the sound of it every evening he went to sleep and every morning he woke. It was the voice that accompanied his daily beatings.

By now, his breathing had accelerated along with his heart rate. He started coughing violently as the acidic smoke filled his lungs. The voices hammered louder in his head as the world around him began to spin. In unison now they all screamed his name.

He fell to the floor, unable to move until the blackness of unconsciousness claimed him.

"That's Your Plan?"
by Legate Abigail Pryce-Randall

First sign that something was going wrong: communications were cut between the room they were in and the ships. Abigail looked around, and saw the awareness of the situation on everyone's face.

Abigail would have liked to believe that it was merely a glitch that caused them to lose the line, but she wasn't that naive. It was something that she had been expecting every since they had entered into Breen space. The sudden, but inevitable, betrayal by the enemies of the Federation. She had hoped that everything would go smoothly, that the Breen were honestly wanting to come up to the table and come away as allies, but somewhere inside, she knew that the odds of it happening were slim to none.

Slim had obviously just left town.

Second sign that something was going wrong: the cyborg opened his leg and pulled out phasers, passing them to the Captain, Smith, and Wikkins, after Krieghoff had turned down the use of one.

It was nice to know that they were not completely unprepared, but she also had no illusions about the effectiveness of three type I phasers in the middle of a Breen compound, surrounded by Breen soldiers, all of them holding something that outclassed their weapons by more then a little bit.

To say that they were going to be outgunned was a little bit of an understatement.

Third sign that something had gone seriously wrong: the so-called plan that Captain Elaithin had come up with. The Breen were going to come in shooting, they were going to resist, and then they were all going to be taken captive.

Abigail sighed in disgust, readying herself for the doors to open. Adrenaline was pumped into her system, and her heart began beating faster.

The door opened and the Breen came in shooting.

A shot went over her head, and Abigail hit the floor behind the chair that she had been sitting in, using it for cover. She wasn't trying to get away, but she did not think that being shot would help her in any way.

Unfortunately, or not, the chair she was in was backed into a corner so the only way that Abigail could see what was going on would be to either stick her head out from behind the high back of the cushioned chair, which would be the height of folly, or see if she could scoot the chair out a little ways to lay down and peer out from underneath.

Deciding that the second choice was by far the better, Abigail pushed the chair forward as shots rang haphazardly around the room. it seemed as though minutes had already passed, but no more then ten or fifteen seconds had passed since the first shot rang out in the room.

Abigail flattened herself, and pushed her head and shoulders underneath the chair. Luckily, she was slight, and the clearance was enough that she could maneuver around.

She looked around, and saw bodies on the floor. Several Breen were down, and it looked as though at least one of their side was on the floor also. Abigail did not make any sort of motion to go to the fallen. There was nothing that she could do to help anyone who was injured.

She heard shouts coming from near then door, and then the unmistakable whine of transporters energizing. The room was suddenly much more crowded, and much louder, as more Breen materialized and began shooting.

Abigail put her hands up to cover her ears as the sounds of phaser fire reverberated off the walls, throwing the sound around until it was hard for her to tell where it was coming from. She hated looking childish, as she knew she must, but when given the choice between going temporarily deaf from the noise, or looking childish, she knew what her choice was.

She kept her eyes open, watching as the entire drama unfolded. Her mind was cataloguing everything, putting it into compartments that might come in handy the next time she was called in to negotiate anything. Even if she was called in to negotiate some kind of cease fire - which she doubted - she wanted to remember what she saw here.

It also gave her some interesting insights into the characters of those she had beamed down with as she saw who fought back, who got out of Dodge, and who stood there like a bump on a log.

Luckily, there didn't seem to be any of the latter. That would have been just asking for someone to come up and shoot you.

"Do not move." The voice came, impassive, low, but loud enough to carry over the noise of shooting. Abigail turned her head to the side and saw a muzzle pointing at her. The chair was pushed out in front of her, and Abigail lifted her hands in the universal signal saying that she was unarmed.

Slowly, the shooting began to die down, and the Breen that was holding his weapon pointed at her motioned for her to rise. She did so slowly, carefully, making sure that she was not going to get caught by a stray bolt. By this time, she was fairly certain that they were not shooting to kill, but she would much rather be safe then sorry.

Once she had regained her feet, she looked around. There were several bodies on the floor, but the rest of the team were also being held at phaser point, and none of them looked very happy about it.

"The Greatest Pain"

Counselor Ammanalyn Llywhyn on the planet Breen

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

Ammanalyn tried to remember the last time she was so terrified.

Truth was, her top three moments had all occurred within the last minute and a half.

First, the battle in space began. All she could do was watch, largely ignored by the rest of the team, all of whom had better things to do than worry about a frightened little girl counselor who shouldn't have been there in the first place.

Then the Breen came in and the yelling commenced.

Then, the fire fight began, really out of anyone's controls. As she lay on the floor, hands covering her ears, trying to keep the tears at bay with Tampatiaen plastered against her, she tried to figure out who fired first. Her thoughts, often so tuned to those small details, betrayed her. All she could think was the fear. Traumatic stress, she thought, in these situations...

Tampatiaen started growling, but that slowly turned into a wimper as he tried to push her into action, using his form in effort to get her to move. With the firing slowing, as people were throwing down their weapons and giving in, Am turned her head. Her eyes widened frantically as they beheld the very large, particularly fierce looking Breen (if any Breen looked any more or less fearsome than any other in those suits -- perhaps it was just that this one was coming toward her with obviously malicious intent).

In a panic, Ammanalyn quickly pushed herself up, moving on her hands and knees, then hands and feet as she tried to stand, her small, frightened body not seeming to want to right itself. Tampatiaen was running back with her, as always, close by, backing up, growling, shaking fearfully at the approaching creature.

She wasn't completely aware what was happening until the Breen had picked her up by her arms. The suddenness was shocking, but nearly so much as the pain the shot through her.

It wasn't physical pain, this was so much deeper, cutting her soul.

She screamed out loud, never having felt something so deep. Tampatiaen had been touched before, but often it would be a loving pet by a curious child or a brief brush from a human hand or a bump from a careless traveler. It was never with the malicious intent of the Breen that now held him tight by the scruff of his neck. Tam was crying, unable to even shift out of the predicament, though Ammanalyn was able to struggle, reaching for him, desperately trying to get away, unable to keep from shouting at the pain.

"Let him go!" she screamed. "Let him go! He can't hurt! Let him go! Please PLEASE PLEASE!"

The Breen ignored her and began to pull them further apart. "NO! NO! PLEASE!" she screamed, kicking and flailing with all her strength until the Breen that held her, dropped her.

Falling to the ground stunned her enough to notice the shooting had stopped. "PLEASE!" she shouted one final time, the pain too great to stay coherent.

They'd hold this against her, she would have thought, if she could have thought of anything other than her beloved Tam.

[ooc: not my best work, but I had to get something in for this part of the story; anyone of my fellow prisoners wanna rescue them?]

"More cases"

by
Koen as James A. Brooke

Brooke was tired, as was the rest of the medical crew, but wounded kept coming in. Some had almost nothing, making Brooke wonder why they came here at all, knowing there were so many who really needed the medical assistance. But that was life for you, some people coming down with the most trivial things. He also wanted to know what was going on, but that was something the medical crew always heared afterwards.

"Doctor," a man in gold tunic asked him, "can you look at my arm, I think it's broken." Brooke had taken a short break, which simply meant an hour or so without major surgery. There was simply no time to take a real break. That would have to wait untill later. "Sure," he said, taking out his tricorder and doing a quick scan. "It's not broken," Brooke said, going over the results, "just sprained. I'll give you something to take the pain away, and you simply would have to take it easy with the arm for a couple of days."

"Doctor Brooke," a nurse called, "plasma burns, from engineering." "Okay," he said, rushing to the surgery room, "you take him, just a sprained arm." So far the break. Coming inside, he saw why they had called him. This was going to take a while, to fix everything. Like a month or so. But right now Brooke would settle for the patient to survive. "Okay, let's get him stable," he said, starting the all too familiar procedure, as they had had the chance to practice quite some time today.

This time it took him three hours to get the patient in a state in which he could lie in bed without being able to sleep because of the pain, and from which they could continue the rest of the process. In the mean time the number of wounded had diminished. "Looks like the battle is over," he said, "and clearly we won. Well, I'll be in the office starting on the paperwork, if you need me," he added to the chief nurse of the secundary sickbay.

"Protective Custody - Pt. II"

by
Major Wes Hammond

&
Flight Officer Jasmine Heloi

****

Federation Section,
Breen Command Ship Gravnor

"This ship's not going to survive this fight," Wes said, pointing to a place along the wall where the deck plating was starting to rattle loose, "My guess is that we've got about twenty minutes to affect a rescue and get off the ship before it's destroyed. And that estimate depends on the Breen commander not doing something stupid."

Jasmine nodded, "I wouldn't trust Breen construction as far as I can throw it. So, how would you recommend we find the others?"

Looking around the outside of the cell, Wes was disappointed to find no access terminals. Frowning, he said, "We need to find a computer database uplink. I took four years of Breen Linguistics at SFA, and I think I remember enough of it to find us the route to the others and then off the ship."

"I think there was one where I exited the vents. It was over this way," she gestured in the appropriate direction and led the way towards where she had come out of the vent.

Wes followed Jazz from the room, wondering at the convenience of the whole situation. The battle was a perfect excuse for the 'Federation Spies' to be removed from the bridge. Somehow he doubted that Captain M'Kantu and Commander Brex were doing the same thing. It seemed likely that the Federation would be more willing to allow the Breen to watch, which was stupid in Wes' opinion. Then again, more foolish things had been done in the name of diplomacy.

The two Starfleet officers entered the small room, and sure enough there was a terminal on the wall just below the vent. A smattering of dust on the terminal was the only indication of her prior passing. Jasmine stepped aside to allow Wes to access the terminal while she kept an eye on the corridor. For all it's evident damage and indication of failing structural stability, there were no Breen officers or crewmen walking (or running) through the corridors. It was highly suspicious - both that they had been locked up and that no one was in the halls. To quote one of her Starfire lines - she had a 'bad' feeling about this.

As they entered the room with the terminal, Wes hurried over to the terminal. Time was limited he knew, and it had been a good eight years since he'd last looked at the written Breen language, with the exception of a few times during the Dominion War, when Starfleet had been scrambling to get a good analysis of Breen tech. In those days, knowledgeable linguists were in short supply.

It took a few long minutes for Wes to familiarize himself with the system and break past the passwords. At one point he mistook the word security for deck plan, the characters being similar, and nearly set of the security alarm before he realized what he was doing. Looking up, he suddenly frowned.

"Jazz, the ship's not shaking anymore."

Jasmine didn't even respond to his comment about the shaking, "And we're not alone anymore..." The Betazoid stepped backwards into the room, urged by a pair of weapon toting Breen.

"Follow. Compliance is required." One of the Breen gestured towards the doorway. When neither officer moved, it continued, "Compliance or the others will be punished."

*Ever get the feeling we're screwed?* Jazz mentally told Wes as she allowed herself to be ushered out of the room.

~We're never screwed. Even odds that these guys aren't on our side anymore,~ Wes thought, holding perfectly still, ~Something in their tone of voice. Before it was merely defensive. These Breen are more... offensive. We need to escape.~

Without telegraphing her move beyond a brief mental flash of 'agreed' to Wes, Jasmine rammed the heel of her hand under the Breen's breathing mask to hit the slimy flesh hidden by the device. The other hand swept the weapon away from her to point harmlessly at the wall. A reflexive movement caused the weapon to fire at the wall, and a good chunk of that wall disappeared in a haze of fire and smoke.

"Didn't your mother tell you not to play with weapons?" Jasmine asked the Breen she was confronting rhetorically. The Breen couldn't respond since it's breathing mask was dislodged by her movements. A haze appeared around the alien's head as it's atmosphere leaked out into the room.

Waiting a split second after Jazz leapt into action, Wes watched the trooper in front of him for an opening. Luck was on his side, it seemed, as the trooper hesitated, then turn to open fire on Jasmine. Using the soldier's indecision against him, Wes pushed the barrel of his foe's rifle down, just before the Breen squeezed the trigger. The end result was the trooper burning his own foot away.

Stunned, the Breen allowed the weapon to drop from it's hands, and was rewarded by a shoulder check to the torso, knocking it away from it's weapon and onto the ground. Before the Breen could scramble to it's feet, Wes had the weapon in his hands, and after a well placed shot, the room fell silent again.

"Tactical Shuttle Bay, this way," Wes said, motioning with the now twitching Breen's rifle for her to follow him as he dashed out the door. He checked to make sure the way was clear, then began moving toward the Breen section of the ship, "We'll need some form of environmental protection."

"Somehow I doubt they carry Fed standard enviro suits," Jasmine replied as they headed down the corridor, "But, there should be something near the boundary between our 'sections.' If not within the Breen section."

"Let's hope so," Wes nodded, looking around at the writing on the walls, pausing occasionally to puzzle over a character that he had long since forgotten. He'd have to brush up.

A massive explosion suddenly rocked the vessel just before the two fighter pilots reached the boundary between the 'Breen' and 'Federation' sections of the starship. With a massive groan that sounded more like a dozen cats yowling in concert, sections of the Breen starship vented into space. For a brief tantalizing moment, Jasmine swore she saw a fireball heading their way before the tell-tale hum of a transporter beam pulled them away from the wreckage of the starship.

Heloi weaved slightly when they appeared on the Galaxy's transporter platform. They were safe...but for how long?

Looking over at Jasmine, Wes breathed a sigh of relief. The destruction of the Gravnor had been unexpected and sudden. It looked like the Breen, or their enemies, were taking no prisoners today. While they might be out of the fire for the moment, Wes and Jazz both knew that the day was far from over.

Eshe, Dhanishta
Lieutenant Jg
Engineer

Back Post

“Reflection, Part One of Two.”

Rattle….scrape….rattle….scrape……shssssss-phusst…

The flame sparked into existence.

At its tip the match glowed red from underneath the black charred wood. The flame yellow and strong, a blue hue at its base, illuminated the room with an orange glow, making the shadows dance across the walls.

Tip to wick.

The two flames joined and doubled in size. The increasing light flowed over the surrounding objects. A beautifully crafted crystal pestle glittered in the flickering light making little rainbows appear at its edges. Inside the crystal mortar a brown powder became a thick sludge as water slowly trickled in from a metal jug.

Carefully Dhani picked up the bowl and began to grind the mixture adding more water until the mixture began to flow. Setting it down she took a deep breath and looked up into the huge mirror that lined the wall of her quarters.

“Time to begin” she told the mirror image of herself.

Picking up a bunch of incense she lit it from the candle before her, and watched as the flames took hold. She had taken the security detectors off in her quarters and had locked her door. Being an adapt engineer was useful when you didn’t want to be disturbed, it was no ordinary locking mechanism!

Slowly she brought the incense before her and gently blew out the flames. The perfumed smoke coiled upwards, like water spiralling down a plug hole, yet upside down. Holding out the incense she turned clockwise three times drawing her outstretched arm towards her so that the smoke encapsulated her. Kneeling down she put the incense on a metal tray before her and watched the smoke screen rise.

Cautiously she picked up the crystal mortar, a voice far in the back of her mind was telling her that it was wrong, that this wasn’t the way. But unsure of whose voice it was she continued. The mixture smelled foul, it looked disgusting, and it tasted just as bad. With the mortar empty she closed her eyes and breathed, slowly and deeply until all her surroundings gradually faded away.

The dancing shadows jumped about as if they were some tribal folk setting the beat, faster and faster crescendoing till all at once they stopped, the flame halting as if all the air had been taken out of the room. And then it grew double in size and the smoke screen cleared.

The air felt heavy, muggy and humid. She could smell her breath, sickly sweet, feel it on her face. Opening her eyes she looked before her…….and into her own eyes!

For a few moments there was confusion, ‘Did it work?’ Dhani asked herself.

The image before her shifted, transforming in the limited candle light. Dhani leaned in closer for a better look. As she frowned the image smiled back, revelling brown rotting teeth. Dhani shot backwards.

“Don’t you like what you see?” Naut asked standing up.

Dhani shook her head speechless. Fumbling for her feet she too stood up and took several steps backward her mind racing.

“What? Now that I’m here you have nothing to say to me?” Naut asked. Her tone was aggressive as she took several steps towards Dhani, watching as she squirmed under her glare. Dhani remained silent, no doubt composing herself. Naut turned away, her anger building,

“I know what you want, Dhanishta” she said spitting out her own name like it was filth, “You want rid of me. You want to forget all about me. What I went through. What they did to me.” She accused.

“NO!” Dhani almost shouted, surprised at the amount of conviction in her own voice. Didn’t she want to get rid of her? Wasn’t that the point of all this?

“What I want, Naut, is my life back.” She whined.

Naut grunted in disgust shaking her head as she did so. “YOUR life?!” The request seemed ridicules to her. “What about my life? The life they took from me. Did you ever think about that?”

“But that never happened.” Dhani replied. Hearing herself argue that case was as far beyond hypocrisy as she could get.

Naut snorted in disbelief, “It DID happen.” She shouted.

Dhani was shocked into silence, not by Naut but by herself. Slowly she crumbled to the ground. She knew what had happened, what Naut had gone through. Hell, she was there. She had been telling everyone that their nightmares were real, that all they had seen and experienced actually transpired. And now here she was trying to rid herself of it all. Arguing with herself that it never happed. She looked up at Naut and then back down at the floor.

The silence was just as poignant as any words could be at this juncture. Dhani continued to stare at the floor. She thought that by removing Naut from herself that she would be able to think clearly, as one person. But it wasn’t as easy as all that. Her eyes scanned the floor back and forth as her mind tried to make sense of what she had done. It was like something was missing, a voice that had been so loud and dominant had just disappeared and without it the rest, elapsed into chaos, none of them listening to the other, nor letting the other finish. Dhani was confused to say the least, not sure of which direction to take, she continued to ‘read’ the floor.

“How ‘DARE’ you?” Naut hissed from across the room. Dhanis silence was irritating her. It was bad enough that Dhani couldn’t even be honest with her, lying until the end. But now she acted like the victim, this was beyond a joke!

“What?” Dhani asked quietly, “How dare ‘I’?” she questioned, her brow furrowing.

“Yes.” Replied Naut, “How dare you do this to me? Bring me here, lie to me. After all I have gone through?”

Dhnais eyes flickered. She stood up with a new strength. Strength fuelled by anger.

“How dare ‘I’ do this to you? After all ‘YOU’ have gone through?” her eyes narrowed, “And ‘I’ lie to ‘you’?”

Naut, unfazed by Dhanis new stance replied,

“Yes. You know what I have been through, a part of you still remembers. And now here you stand lying to me. To ME!” her voice rose, “You brought me here for one reason only Dhani, and I’m not stupid. Or are you really going to try and make me believe it was for tea and cakes?”

Dhanis head tilted to one side as she listened to this, her lips pursed as she waited for her turn to speak.

“How dare I?......HOW DARE YOU?” she erupted.

“You stand there a statue of goodness and virtue, the martyr, the victim! You have the nerve to tell me off for lying to you. Well what about you? You lied to Turan for 27 years, you never loved him. You think that I owe you? I still see them Naut, everyone, as you found them. I watch everyone on this ship walk around….DEAD! Rotting corpses that ‘I’ have to look at every day. You think that what you went through was unfair well what about what you’re putting me through? Did you ever stop to think about me? You think that I want rid of you, well by the God’s you are right, I want my life back. And YES Naut it’s MY life!”

It was Nauts turn to be taken aback. She had always been the dominant voice, trying so hard not to be left behind, trying not to be forgotten. And somehow she was losing this battle. “I hate you.” Was her mumbled come back knowing the wind was now backing someone else’s sails.

“You hate everyone and everything Naut. You are a bitter and twisted old hag!” Dhani returned.

“Do you blame me?” Naut asked changing her tactics. If only Dhnai could see that she really was the victim here then maybe she wouldn’t get rid of her.

“Yes!” Dhani shouted before she really had time to think about the question. “Yes I do…” She searched herself again asking Naut’s question over and over. She was just as shocked as Naut was when she revealed her answer.

“I do blame you,” she started again, quieter, “you had a choice Naut. You let feelings cloud you. You let them overtake, no one forced you. Just like no one forced that rifle into your hands, and no one forced you to pull the trigger. It was you. You and you alone tried to kill….” She broke off. It was difficult to believe that the old woman standing before her was herself. The things that Naut did, in some way Dhani had already done. “Suder was on that away team. So was McDowell.” She said quietly looking at Naut. She waited, watching her reaction.

Naut shook her head, “No,” she said, “your lying!”

Naut couldn’t believe that Dhani was painting her to be the bad guy. ~ I’m not! ~ she thought, ~ I’m not the bad guy here, they were. Starfleet, they did this they were the bad ones~

“Does it really make a difference who they were?” Dhani asked, “At the end of the day they were all someone’s friends. Someone’s family, brother, sister, son or daughter.”

“Your lying!” Naut protested.

“Check your memory Naut. Or are you that senile?” Dhani retorted sarcastically.

“No!” Naut didn’t want it to be true. She couldn’t believe that this was happening, why couldn’t Dhani understand? She wasn’t the monster.

“Turan…” Naut started, hoping to find some common hatred ground. Surely Dhani couldn’t blame her for that, after what he did?

Dhani cut in, “Turan shot you out of love. He didn’t want you to do something that you would regret for the rest of your life. He truly loved you, and in return you beat him!”

Naut was silenced. This was unbelievable, how could she have got things so wrong? The guilt and anger burned inside, till she lost all sense,

“FINE!” she shouted, “FINE you want me gone? I’m so bad, I’m the bad guy? FINE!” She flew into a whirl of rage smashing things with her fist. The few ornamental items that lined Dhanis desk became dust within a matter of seconds. Dhani stood back watching Naut throw her tantrum.

Naut grabbed the crystal mortar next and smashed it. Brown liquid droplets sprayed her face as the bowl broke into shards. Grabbing a large one she held it up,

“You want me gone? YOU WANT ME GONE?” she was hysterical her eyes wide, her hands shaking.

Dhani just stared, shock routing her to the spot.

“FINE.” Naut shouted.

"Coping...NOT!!!"

by
Commander Rayna Lamar O'Grady
ACS/TO
USS Miranda

Security Office, Rayna's.......

Rayna was at her desk, her head laying on her hand, elbow resting on the desk. A cup of coffee sat right next to her. She hadn't been sleeping and coffee seemed to just not keep her awake anymore. She had no energy to do anything. With the Chief indisposed, Rayna was in charge of Security.

With everything that went on, she had been running ragged, upping security and trying to be prepared for anything. Her heart just wasn't in it anymore but she had to keep up appearances. She had only sat down for a moment, when she had fallen asleep. One of the security officers walked in on her, "Commander?" He waked over to her when she didn't answer. "Commander?" He got louder, "Commander O'Grady!"

Rayna was startled, hitting the coffee. It went all over the desk, all over her and all over the floor. She jumped up very quickly, "Damn it! Have you ever heard of knocking?"

The officer looked at her and was very annoyed, "I did. I got worried when you didn't answer."

"Well, you are here now and as you can see, I am fine. What is it you want?" She rubbed her forehead.

"I just wanted you to know that I finished the project you asked me to do."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about it. Very good. Carry on." Rayna went to the replicator and got her another cup of black coffee. Lots of sugar went into the coffee cup. The officer watched her and shook his head, "I know I am going to be sorry for saying this but everyone is talking about you."

She shrugged, "It wouldn't be the first time you know." She carefully sipped her coffee.

"Maybe but I think you should know what they are saying. You're not sleeping or eating like you should be and your temper is short these days. No one wants to be around you anymore. Not only your temper but your lack of concentration is becoming a big concern."

"I see." Rayna had two ways of reacting, one...she could get angry or two...she could admit he's right and feed him some BS." She chose the latter, "I understand and I apologize for it. From now on, the department will have my fullest attention. If there is nothing else, you may go. I have a report to finish then I will go out there and do my duty."

He studied her for a moment. In conclusion, he knew she was just saying what he wanted to hear. He left, wondering if things for her would ever get better. As for Rayna, she sat back down...feeling unmotivated.

"Nothing to do but watch!"

Lieutenant (JG) Ariss Edon
Security/Tactical Officer

Lieutenant (JG) Jonathan Diaz
Operations Officer

Ensign Stel Jonran
Security/Tactical Officer

Petty Officer Mike O’Neill
Engineer

USS Miranda
Tertiary Bridge
Deck 34

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Coughing, Ariss blinked furiously as the smoke got in his eyes. Kneeling between Taalis and the Ops Chief, he tapped their comm badges. “Computer,” he coughed out, “Emergency, two to beam directly to sickbay.” Stepping back, he didn’t watch as the two were beamed to sickbay, rather he turned his attention to the Ops console that was smouldering merrily away to itself. The faint glow surrounding it indicated the fire suppression system was online, and containing the fire. “Computer increase ventilation fifty percent.” Turning, “O’Neill, can you fix this, or reroute it? Your call.” He said to the Petty officer. “Stel, we need someone at Ops, call whoever’s on the duty roster here now!”

Horrified, Ariss realised that technically he was now senior officer on the Tertiary bridge, should the ship go MVAM… “Wraiths!!!” Shaking his head to clear ‘that’ thought, he tapped his comm badge, “Computer. Advise duty Ops Manager that Commander Jaxom has been injured, she is alive but has been transported to sickbay. Tertiary bridge has no senior officer present at this time.” Not expecting an answer, he closed the channel and looked around. ‘Oh Bugger!’ he muttered to himself.

As if in answer to his worries, the turbolift doors flew open, and a tall man in a gold hued uniform emerged, moving with purpose towards the Operations station, where he slid into the seat. He began to work the panel with skill, his fingers a blur over the controls. Soon, apparently at his command, the ventilation returned to normal, and the officers in the Tertiary Bridge were able to breath more easily. With the smoke clearing, it became apparent that several consoles were offline.

It was now, for the first time, that the Operations Officer turned to face the others. "I presume you are the Commanding Officer?" he asked Ariss, with a slightly cocked eyebrow; if it wasn't for his oh-so-human eyes, he could've been a Vulcan.

“For now… yes.” Ariss acknowledged. “Lieutenant Ariss.” He introduced himself to the stranger.

Stel had been about to tap his commbadge and call for assistance... instead he lowered his hand back down the console in surprise, staring at the human that entered. -Odd fellow- he thought to himself. A Small pop in on the console where Stel's tail was helping his hands as an extra finger on the console. The shock sent the tail back writhing and flick itself as if it was an arm and hand being flicked in pain after a similar injury. A monkey-like yelp came from Stel's mouth.

“You okay Stel?” Ariss enquired.

"I'm fine....Shocked my Bleedin’ Tail." He raised it to his mouth and sucked on it like one would with a hurt finger.

“Good. Then check the Tactical station status please. If it’s got a fault I'd rather not find out when we’re actually going to need it.” Turning to the Tactical display on the secondary screen, he watched the screen as the battle outside continued. ~ I have absolutely ‘No’ idea what to do if I have to actually command this ship ~ he thought to himself. ~ I fly shuttles, fighters, small stuff! Maybe command and tactical lessons would be a good idea! ~

Stel checked tactical again. No change in the current situation. The Gunboss at tactical on the Main Bridge doing her work, obviously having experience with these beasts before. Having a moment, he kept a stray eye on the obviously stressed highest ranking officer in the area. - Edon, are you so sure you're ready for this? I don't think I know you as well as I should, but I believe that you think you're not in a good situation. - Paused his thoughts and all. -You bastard, you'd better pull yourself together! You're starting to pull me into your problem!-

Mike sprang up from the Engineering station at the aft end of the tertiary bridge. Snatching up his tricorder, he snapped the device open as he came forward to the Ops position. Scanning the offending panel, he eyed the officer now occupying the seat. "Sir, I need you to move aft to the Science II station. I'll reroute Ops to that position, but I need you to move now." he insisted. "All we need is for the EPS to surge one more time and you're fish food. I can fix it, but I need to take this position offline."

"Right," agreed Diaz, rising from his seat and crossing to the Science Station. "Internal Sensors have taking a beating, but I'm going to try and patch us into the bridge video log." His fingers danced over the controls, and the smile on his face grew gradually larger. "I've got it!" he said eventually, turning to face his crewmates. "On screen, Lieutenant?"

Ariss nodded, and Diaz thumbed another panel, bringing up an image on the viewscreen. In the foreground, Commander Jaxom and Lieutenant Faraday were frantically manipulating their consoles, in response to Commander Brex's unspoken orders. Commander Arel stood behind the wooden rail, mouthing something. "I'll try and get audio." Diaz promised, before turning back to his console and punching in commands.

Taking a deep breath, Ariss looked at the command chair. Somehow it didn’t feel right to sit there. Stepping up to Tactical, he joined Stel there instead. “You okay Stel?” he enquired.

"Aye Leftenant. Just admiring our Chief's work." Stel really had nothing but wait until he actually had to use his console. "I suppose that if we Multi Vector, I'll try to copy the chief's attacks. I don't know the T'Kith'Kin and don't understand why she's only using short bursts like this, but it appears to be working..." Stel trailed off, almost entertained by the action on the console.

“If we have to MVAM, I'd hazard a guess and say that Commander Brex’ll direct us from the main bridge, or get someone down here. I do seem to remember Commander Jaxom mentioning something about their shields and the way they’re built. That’s why they’re using short bursts.”

"I have audio!" shouted Diaz, drawing the gazes of all save Stel to the viewscreen. "Here."

Suddenly, the Video Log came to life. The sounds of a frantic bridge filled the ears of the officers, and they watched as the battle unfolded.

Stood by the tactical station, Ariss watched as the T`Kith`Kin and Hydran ships were dispatched or driven off, then, as the Breen message arrived could only stand, mute, horror growing as the Breen laid down it’s demands.

…

[I will do what is necessary for my people to survive. Now, not a moment to waste. To prove my point, I shall terminate one of the hostages.]

[No, wait!]

But Gor didn't wait. The very identifiable whine of a disruptor blast echoed over the subspace wave, the shriek that followed barely lasting a moment. It sounded very humanoid, indeed.

…

“Dear Prophets!” Ariss breathed. ~ The Captain, ‘Commander Smith!’ ~ He thought, “Frell! Shinta’s down there!” He exclaimed more to himself. Looking around the bridge, he realised right now there was absolutely nothing he could do. ~ Sometimes the hardest thing you have to do, is wait! ~ He recalled, something his Tactics professor at the Academy had once said.

Watching as the drama on bridge continued to unfold, he stepped down to the command chair, and sat. Looking at the main screen he silently said a prayer for those down on the planet. “Haejmin cas’c!tai!” He cursed. ~ I ‘Hate’ the Breen! ~ He decided.

"Plan B"

Principal Characters
Lt. Commander Arel Smith
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Cpt. Elaithin Jii

****

Planet Breen
Diplomatic Reception Area

She managed to push Kylar Curran out of the way of the first phaser blast.

That alone gave her some amount of satisfaction, and at the same time dissapointment at her automatic reflexes, since the pthak had been one of the loudest to argue against her coming on to the planet. She returned fire and then ducked, rolled, and came at the one closest to her with her knife in hand.

Victor glanced at the others as they opened fire, debated deploying his own illicit phaser - and decided against it. The Breen were using stun settings, and that meant they wanted everyone alive. The diplomatic party wasn't going to win this fight, but they had to make it look good. That meant he had to appear less dangerous than he was, so they wouldn't understand until it was too late.

He waited until the Breen started to beam in before he moved a step, grasping one of the smaller aliens as he appeared and spinning him around, his hand clamped around the Breen's weapon-hand, forcing the weapon to continue firing as he swept the rear portions of the room, targeting the Breen's companions. Killing them would have been easier - but pointless. He had sheep to guard, and this was just the opening skirmish.

Arel, on the other hand, was unabashedly going for anyone who stood in her way. She slashed at the next Breen officer, then ducked as the phaser fire swept around the room from Krieghoff and his opponent, and then went after her third.

She knew that it was pointless, that they would be outnumbered, but she had to try anyway. She called to the Captain for orders.

"Plan B!" was all that Jii replied. It had been covered earlier, immediately for the assault, and called for action directly from Smith and Kreighoff themselves.

They were fighting a losing battle, and they were fighting it on thier terms. It was not a prospect Jii enyoyed - battle never went well when the opponent picked the field.

The key was to turn it around - make them dance to his tune.

Arel frowned even as she fought. She wasn't really fond of this plan but an order was an order.

Unfortuneatly, at that moment a thick meaty arm from a sneaky Breen bastard that had slipped in behind her wrapped itself around her neck. Something cold and metal pressed to her head. "Stop immediately or we'll kill the woman."

The thought that all this would prove James Mitchell right made Arel want to grind her teeth.

The combat halted for a moment as the Breen's mechanical voice penetrated to all corners of the room and Arel's position was complicated by the arrival of another Breen soldier that stripped her phaser from her and covered her from a different angle. "Drop your weapons," the first Breen snapped out mechanically.

"Not likely." the Captain called out in response. "We've got you surrounded. Drop your weapons, and we'll let your men go."

The Breen produced a mechanical sound that sounded vaguely akin to l aughter. "I am not a fool, Captain. Do not speak to me as such."

"It was worht a shot." the Bajoran gamefully replied. "I'd be careful, though. The woman you're so casually holding was raised by Klingons. If you're not careful, she's like as not to rip your head off."

As if to proove his point, Arel looked over at one of the aliens covering her and smiled. It was sweet and pleasent, what would have made anyone onboard Miranda immediately back off. But the Breen didn't know her very well; they remained unimpressed.

Victor frowned. He'd lost one sheep under his care in the last months, and even if Smith's teeth were too sharp for a sheep's, she was still his until this mission was over. He wrenched the Breen's wrist as he released the now-empty phaser and was rewarded by a sudden 'pop' as the seals gave way, taking the soldier out of the room in a burst of transporter energy as the alien activated some sort of automated recall.

The Breen weren't killing anyone today, but Victor was.

"Don't interfere, Wikkins," he ordered the junior officer, and then spread his hands wide and took a single step forward through a plume of smoke from a burning chair - and something else emerged on the other side, something that merely wore Victor like a mask. Almost palpable waves of presence pushed out from him, hammering at the other members of the diplomatic party, cutting at their self-control as the waves pushed them to run, to flee, to be somewhere else besides trapped in the same room with Death.

"Remain motionless, human," the Breen returned. "Be still or she and the young one she bears die."

If Krieghoff didn't kill the Breen, Arel decided right then and there, she'd certainly hand his intestines on a platter to him. And then make him eat them.

"Kill her then," Victor said in a voice that was colder than even the atmosphere outside the climate-controlled quarters, the frozen whispers of damned soul's last cries falling away from the words. He took another step forward, the soft footfall seemingly heavier than it had a right to be when it resounded through the floor. "She's not my woman. It's not my child. Kill her. Kill it."

Arel merely raised an eyebrow.

The Bajoran Captian felt his blood grow cold at the sound of the Security Officer's voice. At once, he was stuck be the realization that it really made no difference to Kreighoff. The Breen would be dead either way, the questions was whether or not Arel would join him.

Kreighoff was following the plan... Jii just hadn't thought he'd be that good of an actor.

But then, maybe he wasn't.

Victor's smile widened, becoming something that made several members of the breathless diplomatic party flinch away as he took another step forward and then another, the footfalls still seemingly heavier than they could possibly be. "Kill her," he repeated once more.

Arel's face was now expressionless as she held Krieghoff's eye. Behind her she could almost feel the consternation of the Breen man. Krieghoff was acting totally contradictory to humanoid nature, she imagined the Breen was thinking. She wanted to laugh at his confusion. But now was not the time.

Hang on to your hats, folks, Arel thought grimly and then quickly jerked her head to the right.

The Breen, confused, jerked its hand to keep the phaser pressed toArel's temple - and then froze as Victor's hand closed over it.

"The sheep are mine," Death whispered through Victor's lips. "Not yours. No one dies unless I say so." Death smiled with his face to the uncomprehending Breen, and added, "Time to die."

The sudden whine of the Breen's phaser as it triggered under the pressure of Victor's grip crackled like lightning in the suddenly-quiet room. The Breen's head snapped back, faceplate shattered under the impact of the beam, and fell away from Arel.

Without releasing the dead Breen's hand, Victor fired again, killing the second Breen covering Arel, and then turned, Death smiling in welcome with his face to confront the other Breen.

Arel didn't have the time to thank Krieghoff... or whatever was in his place. She nodded quickly to the Captain and then sprinted out of the room, drawing two of the guards to follow her. She'd have to thank the security officer later. And then possibly give him a sound thrashing for threatening her life and Korvins.

Victor paid no attention to Arel's departure, as the remaining Breen began to fire at him. With a jerk, he pulled the Breen whose hand he held up as a shield, absorbing two blasts that way before the body had boiled away enough through the shattered faceplate to become useless as a shield.

In that time he'd taken the steps necessary to close on another of the slighter aliens and grasped it, whirling it around as a new shield in time to absorb a third hit. Victor stripped the phaser from the Breen's hand and tried to fire it, and was rewarded by a faint "wheep' as some safety device sensed the lack of a Breen hand, engaged and locked the weapon out.

Victor ducked, spun the Breen in his grasp into two more to foul their shots, and then dove behind one of the tables to avoid the increasingly heavy return fire as more and more Breen beamed in. He rolled past it, threw the Breen phaser sidearm with enough force to crack another Breen's faceplate as he emerged on the other side, the alien beaming out automatically, and then raised his hands and stopped, motionless.

Several of the Breen closed to restrain him warily, phasers at the ready. As they came within arm's reach, Victor turned his head, once more merely Victor, and nodded once to Jii, swept his eyes over the rest of the diplomatic party for a moment to nod again at Dallas and a few others... and then turned back to the approaching Breen. He regarded them for a moment as they neared, head tilted to the side - and then Death slipped back into the room and looked through his eyes as the first Breen laid a hand on him.

Something that was no longer Victor smiled down at them.

The first Breen never realized what happened, he was beaming out before he had time to realize that his suit had ruptured. The second managed to raise his phaser, only to abort firing and start to struggle with Victor as his hand clamped down on the smaller alien's and sought to repeat his usurpation of the alien's weapon once more.

The third Breen, smarter than its companions stepped back and out of the way as Breen all over the room started to fire.

Beams struck the wall, the floor, the table net to Victor, and the Breen that he held, driving the pair back into the window that overlooked the frozen wasteland of the planetary surface outside. More beams landed, these set on higher settings than 'stun' from the scorch marks they left, and the damage they did to the window itself - damage that proved to be more than the pane of whatever material the Breen built with could stand as Victor and the remaining Breen slammed into it under the impact of a half-dozen hits and near-hits.

The window exploded outward, precipitating Victor and the Breen he held out into the frozen atmosphere in a rush of near-decompression strength air. Victor released the Breen as he dropped out of sight, hands clutching his chest, and the Breen vanished in a blaze of transporter energy as automated safety fields snapped into place and sealed the breach with a dimly glowing energy field.

After a few moment while both the away team and the Breen processed the shock of the past minute and a half, the Captain judged that it was time. Throwing his phaser to the floor, he raised his hands. "All right. We surrender."

“First Crisis Part One”

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer

Lieutenant Ella Grey
Assistant Chief of Engineering

Civilian engineer wannabe,
Turan Trelar

Dhani jogged down the corridor to the turbo lift with Turan behind her fumbling through her tool kit.

“Deflector control.” She ordered before turning to look at Turan.

Turan took another gadget out of the tool box and tried to figure out what the tool was used for. Switched off, it was nothing more than a black box with a large display covered by a mesh metal lid. The tool kit was full of those things - no wrench, no screwdriver and no soldering iron.

The giant Quentite boy dropped the Gadget back into the tool box and suddenly realized he lost pace with the camouflaged engineer. Dhani disappeared inside the turbo lift with its doors closing.

Sticking out her hand the doors of the turbo lift opened letting Turan inside. Within a few seconds they were at deflector control.

Ella neatly avoided running straight into Turan but jabbed her right thigh on the side of a console instead. A thousand and one swear words sounded off in her head but she only grimaced and rubbed the sore spot. She pointed at the kid and then raised her eyebrows at Dhani in question.

Dhani looked back at Turan and then at Grey, how on earth she hadn’t heard of Turan was beyond her. After all there were very few people on the ship of Turans size and stature, but she quickly hurried an introduction,

“Turan Trelar, Lieutenant Ella Grey, assistant Chief of engineering.”

Turan raised his shoulders - the intergalactic gesture for I'm sorry but I don't know how to correctly beg your pardon. He showed the high ranked engineer the toolkit, pointed at himself and smiled. Then he hurried to follow Dhani.

Ella nodded in greeting and then turned abruptly to snap her fingers at someone, shake her head, and toss them another tool.

Although Grey was the assistant chief Dhani had not really spent much time with her, their shifts rarely coincided and she wasn’t sure how to interact with the mute. And with Turan as her shadow it was going to be an… interesting crisis.

Rolling up her sleeves she went to a console and began tapping away at it,

“Tricorder.” She stated with her eyes fixed on the console and holding out her hand like a doctor in an operating room.

Okay, first occasion to make a fool out of me. Turan searched the tool box for something that looked like a tricorder. He decided for the box with the mesh metal lid and presented it to his mentor.

"This one?" he asked

Dhani turned quickly to look at the object and shook her head. Grabbing the tool kit from him she riffled through it and picked out the tricorder. Holding it up for a minute for him to see she opened it up and began to scan the unit before her.

“Grey,” she called out.

Ella came over from where she was working on her console.

“I am proceeding to enhance the shields.” Dhani informed her superior officer.

Ella nodded and then gave a thumbs up.

Pulling a panel off the wall Dhani grabbed the remodulator and began the procedure.

“Turan, I have a few questions for you.” She said from within the wall.

“You told me that you want to be an engineer, and that you have studied Star Ship design.” She paused, waiting for him to confirm.

"I actually started studying when the Galaxy visited Quentin. Probably Starfleet didn't want Quentites on board who understand to much of what they see."

“Did you actually study anything regarding Starfleet engineering?” she asked trying not to make the question sound like an accusation.

"Sure I did study the Galaxy." Answered Turan,

"I had plenty of time to do so. I had a look at almost anything they allowed me to see. They didn't let me have a look at the engine yet. I have scribbles of all that in my quarters. I used them to design some of the room for a deep space travelling Quentite vessel. Maybe, you want to have a look at the drawings as soon this is over?" The oversized boy paused. Was it a good idea to tell her about? "Oh yes ... and after I was stuck in the turbolift. I managed to escape through the tube maze behind that wall. There was nothing else to do, so I started mapping it."

Dhani crawled out from the wall and turned back to the console. Her fingers danced over the controls quickly and precisely. Grabbing the tricorder again she ran several tests.

“So,” she said, over the beeping of her tricorder, “if you have studied Starship design and engineering,” she glanced down at the readouts, “open up that tool kit and pass me a sonic screwdriver.” She glanced up at his blank face before turning and walking over to where Grey was.

Screwdriver sounded much easier to find. From his last triage through the tool kit, Turan, the keeper of the toolkit knew there wasn't any object that looked like an old fashion Quentite screwdriver. Something contained in the kit was expected to serve in the same manner, but in a much more high-tech way - by noise. 'Form follows function' thought Turan and choose the only tool he thought would be able to turn a screw. Admitted, it looked more like an in-ear thermometer, but unless you star ship isn't a living organism, the chance to find one in the depths of an engineering toolkit is very low.

Turan handed the screwdriver over to his new boss.

“Lieutenant,” Dhani said getting Grey’s attention, “here are the results from the enhancements.” She handed over her tricorder for Grey to read and accept or decline.

Ella skimmed the results. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing and especially good considering it was during a fight.

Glancing up at her new student Dhani smiled slightly and pointed to the panel she had left propped up next to the wall cavity that she had been working in.

Turan nodded. The main surgery was done. The work she left for him was to plug the panel’s power and data bus connectors back into their socket a rather easy task as any of the plug had his own special shape. The last connector he rejoined made the large display come back to life. A small step for a well educated Starfleet engineer, but a giant step for an alien engineer trainee on his first day.

The display showed a LCARS schematics of the Galaxy's surrounded by an oval ring representing the shield's remaining strength. Several of the ring's sectors were already rather thin. Especially the right part, representing the vessel's rear shields had almost vanished. Nevertheless, the values next to the segments increased with every second.

Carefully, Turan inserted the panel into its wall mount frame.

“Orders?” Dhani asked turning back to her commanding officer.

Ella frowned as she read her console and then typed out a quick message to Dhani. *THERE'S A PLASMA RELAY UNIT THAT'S LEAKING. I'M GOING TO GO FIX IT. MAKE SURE THEY ALL* and here she waved her arm in a sweeping arm gesture *STAY ON TASK.*

Dhani took the PADD from Grey and began to read it. The ship rocked slightly, placing her hand on a near by desk to steady herself she sighed slightly as she lost her place. Scanning the page again till she found it she continued to read. Handing the PADD back to Grey she nodded. Her orders were a bit vague but then Dhani good at using her initiative. She watched as Grey strolled out, knocking into the door frame as the ship rocked.

The tall Quentite stared at the panel with wide opened eyes. The rear shield segment was gone completely. You don't need to attend Starfleet academy to figure out what it meant. With the aft shields down, the giant vessel's engine and warp nacelles were an easy target. Every additional hit over there could cause severe damage to the propulsion and even force the crew to surrender and give up the ship.

Turan cleared his throat. Till now, nobody had found the time to tell him how to address the Trill officer, whose toolkit he was carrying. "Excuse me?" asked the Quentite boy with a nervous undertone in his voice. "Could you please have a look at this?"

Dhani turned to Turan with raised, questioning eyebrows. Looking down at the panel her eyes widened. Pushing Turan to one side, as nicely as she could given the circumstances, her hands franticly flew over the console,

“Computer transfer auxiliary back up power to aft shields.” She shouted. But it was too late.

The ship groaned and squealed as if it were a living thing in pain. The deck shuddered beneath their feet as the ship suddenly jolted, violently arching to one side. The consoles around the Deflector control room overloaded, popping and spewing sparks. The shorted out panels darkened as all the life drained from them, all but the new life growing inside with a ferocious hunger.

Suddenly, the room was dim and calm. The only light that still illuminated the room came from the red emergency lights and the last working console.

Dhani tried to keep her footing through the shaking and continue her work to save the shields, but as the ship jolted she was thrust head first into the panel she was working on.

After a short period of furious blinking, the remaining lights decided to have a break. Turan touched the ground, searching for the toolbox. Somewhere in there, he remembered he had seen a torch.

With the lights out night fell on Deflector control. Only rolls of thunder and unsettling creaking sounds could be heard as debris rained down around them.

Turan coughed. The room around him filled with clouds of finest dust, slowly settling down on the floor.

He presented the torch "Here we are!" then switched it on. Its beam seemed to cut the dust like a sword's blade. Examining the room which with the last explosions changed into a chaos of dust and debris he finally found his mentor half covered by pieces of the console display and several large parts of debris.

Turan licked the back of his hand and held it close to the female officer's nose. A weak, cold breeze touched his hand's small hairs. At least, she was still breathing. The Qentite kneeled down next to her, took her by the shoulder and gently rocked her.

"Come on, Naut ... wake up. Don't leave me alone."

Turan suddenly realized, he used a word, he never used before. But what was the meaning of 'Naut'?

Dhani stirred under his grip, her eyes rolled under their lids as if she was dreaming. Taking in a deep breath, of dust and crap, she began to cough. Opening her eyes she looked up into Turan’s.

“My name…” she said in-between stifling her coughing fit, “is Dhani.”

From across the room, behind a wall of debris, groans could be heard as Ensign Susan Delphino and Ensign Meowki Haat came to. A distinct pitter patter could be heard as they stood up and dusted them selves down, followed by loud cursing.

Dhani shifted into a sitting position. Realising as she began to move that she was hurt. Her leg throbbed and something dribbled down her head, dabbing her brow with the palm of her hand she removed it and looked. Blood. It seemed like it was flooding out, quickly she put her palm back to her head to stem the bleeding. With her other she began to brush the dust off her clothes. Suddenly she realised what Turan had called her and stopped. Staring at him she said,

“What did you call me?” she asked for confirmation her eyes wide with shock.

OOC: Takes place as Hammond gets back from the Breen ship.

"About Damn Time"

Major Joral Anton
Rogue Squadron
Executive Officer/ Rogue Five
Acting Squadron Leader

The tall figure of Major Joral stood out in the fighter bay, barking cantankerous orders at the various ground crew. The level of vulgarity was high, even for a fighter pilot. Thus far, they had sustained two casualties (Solranth and Clemons were in sickbay), but no fatalities, and Joral intended to keel it that way, should the T'Kith'kin and Hydrans feel like cooperating.

Considering the physical state of the fighters in the squadron, the chances of that were looking slim at best. Solranth's was destroyed, and he had been saved by activating his own beam-out, and Clemons' craft had to be towed back by St. Melisande. Of the other ten fighters in the squadron, none had escaped undamaged - including Hammond's which hadn't been engaged, due to the squadron leader's absence. However, a falling strut had done what combat could not, and the craft was without a port nacelle.

Joral's own fighter had fared little better, losing the torpedo pod and the lateral sensor array. The others had sustained varying degrees of damage, ranging from diminished sensor capacity to completely disabled. In and of itself, that was bad enough, but the fact that they were almost guaranteed another sortie within a matter of hours did little to help the Bajoran's mood.

It was then that Hammond walked in. His Exec looked at him in annoyance, and greeted him with, "What the hell took you so long?"

Eshe, Dhanishta
Lieutenant Jg
Engineer

Back Post

“Reflection” Part Two of Two.

The room blurred some as Dhani felt a cold tingle through her body. She could feel the jagged edge of the crystal snagging on wrinkly skin, and then the warm rush spilled out over her arm. She looked down at the crimson river that flowed across the floor. And then up at Naut horrified.

“Naut, No!” she cried. ~ she’ll kill me too, she’ll kill me to! ~ Dhani tried to calm her fear, ~ She’s going to take me with her!” ~ But to no avail. She fell onto her knees hard, staring at Naut, all the while shaking her head, “No! no, no, no,” she whispered inching forward on her knees,

“I don’t want this, I never wanted this. Naut Don’t, NAUT!” she begged, looking into Nauts eyes, those black hollow eyes. But her begging fell on def ears. She yelled as her other arm was split open.

Naut held the shard of glass so tightly that it cut into her palm, little droplets of blood splashed to the floor, joining the rest. Slowly she fell to one side, curling up on the floor.

Dhani sat back on her knees, tears welling in her eyes, a desperate look across her face. Crawling across the room to Naut she brushed the hair away from Nauts face. Hawkish eyes stared out across the floor.

“Naut please…” Dhani begged shaking Nauts shoulder, “not like this, I don’t want this. NAUT?”

Dhani began to sob, “Naut, please. I love you. I don’t want you to d…. I just wanted my life ba… I’m so sorry.” She cried harder taking Nauts hand in her own.

“I love you..” she whispered tearfully. She began to feel sick, her throat hurt and her eyes stung, but still she held Nauts hand and stroked her hair. She had to get through to her some how.

“Naut,” she called out again as she laid down next to her, face to face. Looking into Nauts eyes she poked, prodded and shook her, trying anything to get Naut to acknowledge her. But there was nothing, Naut continued to stare blankly across the floor.

“Naut!” Dhani wailed a hundred-or-more times. But still nothing.

And then it clicked, “Dhanishta?” Dhani called out.

Nauts glazed eyes flickered, the last spark of life locked onto Dhani’s.

Dhani smiled, “Dhanishta.” She called again as her tears rolled off her nose.

Naut squeezed Dhanis hand, “I’m sorry.” She said. Dhani shook her head not understanding.

“I was selfish.” Naut explained, “I didn’t think about you or anyone else. Its time for you to live, and for me to die… for good.”

“NO!” Dhani exclaimed.

“Shush” Naut replied, “It’s okay. I understand now.”

“Well I don’t!” Dhani shouted back.

“Dhani, you have to live, and I mean really live. Don’t make the same mistakes twice.”

“I didn’t understand that the first time!” she said wanting to scream. She felt like her heart was breaking.

“Dhani you have to be yourself, you have to feel everything; pain, fear, hatred, guilt, loss, happiness and love. You have to let yourself live, let yourself love. And you have to let go now.”

Dhanis brow wrinkled, she wasn’t sure what Naut was talking about.

“Now.” Naut repeated as she wriggled her hand out from Dhanis grip. Dhani stared on confused. Naut reached up to the comm. Badge on Dhains top and pressed it.

~< Medical emergency, beam directly to sick bay.>~

“NOOOOOO!” Dhani shouted grabbing the badge and throwing it, but it was too late. Her com badge was just millimetres from her outstretched palm.

Re-materialising on the floor in sick bay shouting and throwing her comm. badge must have been a sight! For the doctors came rushing over, tricorders out and bleating away.

“No, no, no.” she shouted trying to stand up. Boy did her head feel light.

“Miss please calm down. You’re going to be alright.” The doctor insisted, “Nurse!” he yelled out.

“No you don’t understand….” Dhani cried out, “It’s not me I don’t need any help!”

“I beg to differ.” The doctor replied nodding to her slashed wrists, “You have lost a lot of blood. You need to calm down so I can look at you.” The doctor said trying his best not to look too concerned and worry his distressed patient even more.

The nurse advanced on Dhani grabbing her firmly and escorting her to the nearest bio bed. But Dhani wrestled under her grip, “No!” she shouted beginning to get hysterical. Why wouldn’t they listen to her? Soon there were several nurses trying to hold her down. The doctor grabbed a hypo spray. Dhani knew it was now or never, she couldn’t understand why it was so difficult to get these nurses off her, she had battled Klingons twice as strong. With a lot of effort she managed to wrestle free and then legged it.

Time seemed to slow down as she raced through the corridors of the Galaxy. She could hear the protests of the doctor and the nurses behind her. She knew that they would soon be hot on her heals but she had one up on them, her comm.. badge was stuck on the wall in Sick bay!

It took an eternity to reach the last turn in the corridor before her quarters. Her heart was thumping in her chest as the doors swished open. She saw Naut lying on the floor right where she left her. Flying in she did a baseball slide across the floor stopping at Nauts side. Pulling Naut up and into her lap she stroked her hair,

“Naut,” she cried, “Dhanishta! Don’t! I want you to stay I don’t want you to die. Please I’m sorry I’m so sorry. PLEASE!” she begged.

“This is the only way.” Naut replied, her voice lower than a whisper.

“It’s not, there has to be another way.” Dhani persisted, her mind trying to think of any other way.

“Dhanishta Eshe I am….” Naut mumbled with her last breath.

Dhanis heart ached. The lump stuck in her throat and she choked out her tears hugging Naut and rocking back and forth.

Dhani didn’t hear the doors to her quarters open or the doctor as he stepped in tricorder in hand. A nurse followed cautiously, stepping over the broken objects and keeping her distance. Their earlier wrestling match obviously still fresh on her mind. She looked around the room, its walls were still Starfleet standard colours, there was a pile of cargo crates in a corner of the room, broken objects littered the floor; bowls, picture frames, a few small objects that were so dismantled that she had no clue what they once were. She began to wonder if this woman was moving in or out. On one wall were the remains of a huge mirror, the remnants of said mirror covered the blubbering wreck that sat rocking in the middle of the room, totally oblivious to their presences.

“Nurse,” whispered the doctor, nodding his head for her to join him.

She wandered over and looked at the display of his tricorder which he held out for her to see. She looked up at him a shocked expression on her face,

“She’s hallucinating?” she concluded and half questioned, it was so unbelievable. A Starfleet officer on drugs! She had to make sure for herself. Opening up her tricorder she scanned Dhani. She frowned as her instrument displayed the same readings as that of her superior.

“It appears this is much more serious than we realised.” He whispered.

“We have to report this to the Captain at once.” She stated heading for the door.

“Hold on a minute.” He restrained her. “First we need to get her side of the story, there’s more to this that meets the eye.”

“Like what?” she retorted, “She is a Starfleet officer..”

“Look.” He said cutting off her moral and duty speech.

She sighed obviously frustrated, “What?”

“What do you make of this?” He said pointing at the broken crystal bowl.

She bent down and began to scan it with her tricorder.

“And this?” he said bending down next to her.

Together they looked through Dhanis ritual objects, a small pile of ash that had once been incense sticks, the candle which was still burning, its flame strong and a crystal pestle.

As they began to speculate over what had gone on, and how come nobody knew what had gone on, Dhani began to stir.

Opening her eyes she looked down into her lap. Naut had gone, all that remained was a pile of broken glass.

“It’s over.” She said, her voice horse from the crying.

The nurse looked up and moved forward, only to be held back by the doctor. She shot him an irritated glare.

“Let’s see what she does.” He explained.

Dhani rose slowly, her head was light and she still felt sick, probably from all the crying. She looked to her left where the huge mirror was. Or rather had been and then she looked at the candle. As if by some magic the flame went out. The doctor and Nurse looked at each other and then back at Dhani, they were right next to the candle, and felt no breeze!

Dhani looked at them and their puzzled faces, “It’s over.” she repeated louder than before, as if that made any sense to either of them.

But Dhani had to be sure. Turning she walked slowly to the door and out into the corridor down the hall and to the turbolift, her two companions following yet keeping their distance.

Inside the lift she turned slowly to face the door, she could see them following her, jogging towards the lift. But the door closed.

“Ten Forward.” She ordered.

She felt so strange, everything around her seemed fuzzy, out of focus. But she was determined to find out. Had it worked was she free?

As the doors opened she hesitated before stepping out into the corridor. Slowly, slowly. She took one step at a time, focusing on the floor beneath her. Till at last the doors of Ten Forward loomed up in front of her. She hadn’t a clue of the time, and it didn’t matter, what mattered is what she saw.

So used to not looking at people her eyes scanned the tables first, and then the chairs. The walls, the windows, the bar. Till at last she forced herself to look beyond that. The bar-maid was chatting to a customer, they were fully engaged in what seemed to be a cheerful discussion. But the barmaids face fell when she looked out to the new comer. But Dhani smiled, the barmaid had a face! She could see every strand of her hair, the lines on her face, her rosy cheeks, her frown lines. The man turned from his stool and followed the barmaids gaze. Dhani could see his face too, the expression of shock as she moved towards him, his pink lips forming a little ‘o’.

Reaching out she touched his face. Her fingertips remembered the feel of skin, but it had been so long. Her hand caressed his cheek as he stared at her, shocked.

Tears rolled down Dhanis cheek splashing on to her outstretched arm, and rolled down to her wrist.

“Ouch!” Dhani murmured. Looking down she saw the gash on her arm, the blood stained skin surrounding it, and below that her blood soaked dress. Her face contorted into one of surprise and shock,

“Oh Fu….”

*Thud*

BACK POST

“The Bigger Breakfast.”

Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder

Lieutenant JG Dhanishta Eshe

(Set straight after Reflection)

Another slow and long day. The perfect description to the dull events that had taken place. Reports, reports, some more reports, interaction with the Engineering staff and oh, more reports.

Still, it was his job, his life. He wasn’t going to complain. His mind occasionally wandered to that place…. His house in the fields….

Suder emptied the contents of his glass and slowly let the thick liquid slide down his throat. Placing the glass on the counter, he signalled for another.

****

As the doors opened she hesitated before stepping out into the corridor. Slowly, slowly. She took one step at a time, focusing on the floor beneath her. Till at last the doors of Ten Forward loomed up in front of her. She hadn’t a clue of the time, and it didn’t matter, what mattered is what she saw.

So used to not looking at people her eyes scanned the tables first, and then the chairs. The walls, the windows, the bar. Till at last she forced herself to look beyond that. The bar-maid was chatting to a customer, they were fully engaged in what seemed to be a cheerful discussion. But the barmaids face fell when she looked out to the new comer. But Dhani smiled, the barmaid had a face! She could see every strand of her hair, the lines on her face, her rosy cheeks, her frown lines. The man turned from his stool and followed the barmaids gaze. Dhani could see his face too, the expression of shock as she moved towards him, his pink lips forming a little ‘o’.

Reaching out she touched his face. Her fingertips remembered the feel of skin, but it had been so long. Her hand caressed his cheek as he stared at her, shocked.

Tears rolled down Dhanis cheek splashing on to her outstretched arm, and rolled down to her wrist.

“Ouch!” Dhani murmured. Looking down she saw the gash on her arm, the blood stained skin surrounding it, and below that her blood soaked dress. Her face contorted into one of surprise and shock,

“Oh Fu….”

*Thud*

Watching the whole encounter, Suder frowned. Then looked a little confused and looked at the drink in his glass. He placed it back on the counter and looked back over at Dhani, who was now lying on the floor. He was glad to know he wasn’t imaging it, but then he came down to reality.

He hopped off his stool and shot over to her. Crouching, he scanned her blood stained dress and arms. He looked up at the surrounding officers. With a small shrug of his shoulders telling everyone he wasn’t surprised.

As if on cue, the medical team that had been chasing Dhani entered the large room. He glanced up at them with surprise and then realised that she’d pulled one of her standard tricks. He stepped back allowing them access to her.

Quickly the doctor ran over to her, scanning her yet again. Bending down he lifted her up and then nodded at the nurse who promptly contacted sick bay for an emergency beam out.

As they dematerialised the occupants of Ten Forward returned to their drinks with a new topic of conversation.

Suder strolled back to his stool and raised the glass from the bar. Drinking it in one go, he placed the empty glass back on the bar and straightened his uniform. Leaving Ten-Forward, he wandered if taking on Dhani was a good idea. She seemed like so many others, young, talented, a hell of an Engineer in fact. But all of these problems as of late made him wonder if this was the life that she wanted? Maybe she’d of been better on Earth. Still, maybe he’d be able to help out, after all, that was part of his job. Support his staff. He’d drop by Sickbay, find out what was going on. Although he already knew the answer. They found her like that, cuts in her arms, blood everywhere, but they don’t know how or why. It was a good job that no one in the medical department were investigators as well!

Dhani tried not to yelp as the nurse brusquely took her arm and began to run a dermal regenerator over the wound.

“I’m sorry does that hurt?” the nurse asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Dhani stayed quiet, she could feel the anger of the nurse. She obviously had some pent up frustration with her. Dhani could see how this looked but not everything was how it seemed. She hadn’t tried to kill herself and the hostility from the nurse was totally unjustified. But still she bit her tongue.

“Life is a gift you know.” Continued the nurse as she dropped Dhanis left arm and started on the other.

Dhani thought that nurses were supposed to be nice to their patients!

“I didn’t…” she started. But then thought better of it. She couldn’t be bothered to try and change the mind of someone who was so sure that they were right.

“We found a chemical substance in your blood sample.” The nurse said, “Mind telling me how it got there?”

Dhani just stared at the nurse sometimes people could be so dense,

“I took it.” She said bluntly.

The nurse nodded and then stood up,

“I’ll be back in a moment. You just sit right there.”

Dhani stretched after the nurse left, it had been a long day and she knew that she was now going to have a barrage of questions thrown her way. She wondered if Naut had intentionally done this, her last act of revenge. But that was something she didn’t want to think about for too long. Fear that the answer might be yes. Standing up she took a small stroll round sick bay, she was still week, no more wrestling matches for her. Everything was different now. She could still remember everything that happened to Naut but it didn’t consume her thoughts any more. Her head was a much quieter and calmer place. She felt such relief.

The doors slid open as Ethan strolled in. He wandered why it had taken so long for him to get there. He had walked as fast as he normally does, the turbolift ride had been standard, yet his timing was off. Shaking his head of the irrelevant thoughts, he glanced at Dhani who was busy pacing near by. Approaching her, he jumped up on a near by biobed and glanced at her, no expression on his face. He began twiddling his thumbs.

She turned and looked at him, a smile broke out across her face.

“What are you in here for?” she asked, “Got board of your usual routine; work sleep eat, brood, work, work, brood, brood? Or is it time for your medical?” she chuckled.

“Actually, this is becoming part of my routine, work, sleep, eat, brood, work, work, brood, brood, come see you in sickbay because of another accident or something, work some more, maybe some more brooding. But hey, this isn’t about me.” He replied with a smile of his own.

Dhani was so happy that she actually felt giddy, and it showed too. She couldn’t stop smiling.

“Well I thought you needed a change of scenery.” She joked.

“Why, my life too dull for your liking. A simple life can be as much fun as an adventurous one. And let’s face it, I’ve seen my fair share of action and adventure, so why not take things easy?”

“Well if you want to hide in that shell of yours for the rest of your life you should chose an assignment to reflect that.” She gave him a cheeky grin before popping on to the bio bed opposite him. Looking down she examined her arms. There was no sign of the slashes, just beautiful porcelain skin. She stroked her wrist remembering the events, a frown crossed her face. She felt guilty for Naut, but then Naut hadn’t actually gone, she still remembered everything. She supposed it was like the relationship between a host and its symboint. She would remember all that had transpired but she wouldn’t feel it all, she would remain herself. The raised voices from the other end of sick bay broke her train of thoughts.

“But she confessed. She took drugs! We should report it!” the nurse shrilled angrily.

Dhani heard a slight commotion as the doctor ushered his nurse into his office. The doors closed trapping the sound inside. All that anyone could see was the shadows created by flapping, over gesturing arms.

Dhani looked up at Suder and began to swing her legs, she was beginning to get board, and surprisingly hungry.

“So what’s new?” Suder asked glancing around sickbay.

“Well I think that they have got some new instruments.” Dhani replied, “The curtain over there is new I think. Oh and I’m sure they have replaced a few lights as well. Apart from that I don’t think anything is new.”

“Exciting.” Ethan remarked sarcastically. “What brings you down here this time, a fall, some other kind of accident?”

“Nah, nothing that exciting!” she said still swinging her legs,

“Hey you wanna get something to eat? I’m starved.” She jumped off the bed and headed for the door.

“Oh,” she said turning, “Can I go now?” she shouted towards the doctors office.

The doctor emerged looking very harassed, “No.” he replied curtly.

“You need to stay here until a counsellor is available and I think you have some explaining to do.” He gave her a hard look.

“I didn’t realise that Starfleet had such an interest in species specific rituals.” She replied.

Ethan too jumped off the bed and gave a nod to the Doctor. “Send the counsellor to Ten-Forward.” With that, he strolled out of Sickbay with Dhani and jumped into the nearest turbolift. “So what’s for dinner?”

“Erm… I’m thinking of a big English breakfast, with lots of brown sauce.” She said, “I’ve heard it’s all the rage with the breakfast crowd.”

“Ah yes, sausage, beans, bacons, toast, eggs and other things too. Quite frankly don’t know how a human, or Trill can eat so much. But then what do I know eh?”

“Well after my ritual fast I could eat a horse!” she commented as they stepped out of the lift and into Ten Forward. “And you have to remember that I’m not just a Trill.” She smiled at him as they wandered up to the bar.

“I have to thank you for bailing me out back there.” She said quietly, “I really don’t want any sick bay dinners. And waiting for the counsellor to come would have been a drag.”

“Don’t thank me, just doing what I seem to be doing far too often these days. I take it your thinking with a clear head now?”

Dhani tilted her head to one side, “apart from the voice saying, ‘food, food, food’ which I think is actually my stomach, yup!” she nodded.

After ordering their food and drinks they crossed the room to the far corner of Ten Forward and sat down.

“Glad to hear it. So… What kind of ritual was that, if I may be so bold?”

A shadow crossed their table,

“That’s exactly what I would like to know as well.”

Dhani looked up at the intruder.

The doctor stared at Suder for a moment and then back at Dhani.

“Thought you guys came in three’s?” Ethan almost chuckled. It wasn’t until then that Ethan realised the drink from early must have kicked in. Damn! Couldn’t have been better timing.

Dhani gave Suder a sharp look, and then she too almost laughed.

“Well,” she started looking up at the doctor. She took a long swig of her drink, taking the moment to think up some bullshit story. The truth would be far more unbelievable,

“The purpose of the ritual to interact with individual aspects of ones self.”

The doctor nodded although his expression of suspicion remained.

Dhani stared at him, “What?” she questioned.

“Go on.” he said.

Dhani gave him a blank expression.

“The hallucinogenics.” He prompted.

“Oh!” Dhani exclaimed with a look of total innocence, “They are totally natural. Made from herbs. They aid the process of interacting with ones individual aspects, because of course no one can actually see them!” she let out a mocking laugh and glanced at Suder.

“Depends what your looking for I guess.” Suder said looking down into his own drink.

She took another swig of her drink, “And then comes the ritual blood letting.”

“The what?” the doctor asked with raised eyebrows.

“Blood letting.” Dhani repeated. She sighed slightly, “To remove impurities.” She explained.

“And this is species specific is it?” the doctor asked cynically.

“Well I’m sure most species have something similar.” She said sounding exasperated.

“Come on Doc, the Klingons for example have blood letting in most of their rituals, and we all know Dhani spent a very long time with them. Only natural that she would pick up and inherit a lot from their culture. Or are you denying that we don’t pick up habits when spending large amounts of time with different species?”

The doctor glared at Suder, “She could have died!” he almost shouted, “Again!” he added.

“Ritualistic acts have no place on a Federation starship.” He said, “Especially when they involve taking illegal drugs and risks ones life.”

“Well the drugs we can talk about, and… I will. But as Starfleet officers, we have a duty to respect peoples beliefs don’t we? Some believe that growing particular flowers is a ritual, others believe it’s having a shower, some believe that lighting a few candles and meditating is a ritual…. Get the point. So, as department head, why don’t you give me a full report on everything from what wounds there were to what “illegal” drugs were used. We’ll then go from there. And don’t worry, I’ll see to it that she sees the counsellor, I’ll take her myself.” Suder told the Doctor with a smile.

The doctor opened his mouth to speak but changed his mind. He turned to leave but stopped and turned back,

“I have a good mind to suspend you from your duties indefinitely.” He threatened.

“Already am!” Dhanishta replied holding up her drink to him before taking a long swig.

He glared at the both of them before turning on his heals and striding out of Ten Forward.

Dhani looked at Suder and then let out a long suppressed laugh.

Ethan couldn’t help but chuckling himself. He drank some more and then looked at Dhani with a serious look. “So, wanna talk about it at all?”

Her eyes rolled upward as she recalled the events, “Well… it’s pretty much how I just said. The only difference is there was no blood letting. That was Naut.”

She moved her drink to one side as the waiter brought over their food order over and placed it on the table. He gave them both a suspect glance before returning to the bar. Dhani waited till he was out of ear shot before she continued,

“I used the herbs to be able to interact with her, just like I said. And they are not illegal.” she added, “I used a mirror to draw her out and then we talked, argued some. And then she smashed a few things, slit her wrists. Or rather mine and then sent me to sick bay.” She grabbed the brown sauce and began squirting it over her food.

Suder nodded as she told the story. Sounded convincing. “I take it she won’t be bothering us again then?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. He gave a nod to another waiter to order some more drinks.

“Well she is still a part of me. As in I remember everything that happened. It’s just….I don’t feel what she felt any more. And I don’t see the crew as she did.” She picked up her knife and fork but paused before tucking in.

“No wonder you’re ready to eat a horse.” He commented before ordering his drink. He observed as Dhani did the same and then waited for the guy to leave before continuing. “I know she’s still part of you, what I meant was, she won’t be taking control of you, in the ‘I’m crazy and I’m going to have a fit’ kind of way?”

Dhani chuckled, “No, I don’t think so. No one else will become one with the floor from my hands.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Too much happens these days for my liking.”

“Well then,” Dhani said, “I suggest that you change your liking!”

Aches and Pains
Doctor Felicia Khatroweena,
Commander, CMO
USS Miranda

"Five units of blood and keep him under observation," Cat ordered. She watched as the orderlies moved the anti-grav gurney out of her OR and took her patient to the CCU.

Stripping off the thin latex gloves, she headed out from the OR. Moving through some double doors, she threw the gloves into a biohazard bin in the Scrub Room. She noticed Doctor Sakic already in the scrub room, he had just finished a procedure and was rescrubbing, his forearms covered in the medicinal soap used in making sure their skin was sterile.

Cat turned on the warm water and began scrubbing her arms, making sure that there was no chance of any cross infection from her previous patient to her next patient. It took a couple of minutes, and even in this time of sterile fields, there was no ignoring the simpler forms of making sure the doctor was 'clean.'

Before grabbing the soap, Cat grabbed her hands and stretched. She felt the release of tension in her bones and not a few quiet pops and cracks. As she twisted, she felt a slight pain in her left shoulder. Rubbing her shoulder, she looked up and at Sakic who was looking back at her.

"I heard a couple of those," commented Sakic as he went back to scrubbing.

"Age and time," returned Cat.

'Plus letting yourself deteriorate,' she thought to herself. It had been months since she had spent anytime doing any real exercising. Her dancing she had almost given away due to lack of time. And now she was paying for it. Her Caitian heratige was showing. As a race, Caitians were more dextrous, more agile and had better fine control. But at her age, the beginnings of joint problems would begin to show in Caitians. She had ignored her dance regimes for lack of time. And now because of her ignoring one of the best ways of keeping such problems at bay, she was paying the price.

"Age and time," she repeated, more to herself than anything.

"LGFD," chuckled Sakic.

"What?" asked Cat. As she continued in her own scrubbing, but her concentration had been elsewhere in the last few moments.

"You heard me, LGFD," he said with a smile and looked at the Scrub Room Nurse and nodded. She help put the thin gloves on Sakic, to make sure that even though he had just scrubbed, he didn't ruin the sterile rating.

Cat gave a slight grumble and called out, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," came the cheery return as Sakic headed to his OR.

Cat shook her head, LGFD - Looks good from the doorway. ERspeak for a patient that while complaining of symptons, does not appear to acutely ill or injured, or more commonly - a hypochondriac.

In someway, Sakic was right, she looked at herself in the mirror, a few age lines could be seen around the eyes, and with a couple of popping bones, she was healthy and fit. If she wanted to push back the joint pains, she just had to find time to get back into her dancing.

As she nodded to the Scrub Room Nurse, the lights in the Primary Sickbay went out and Cat suddenly felt that she was on a hill. She heard a clatter and also someone curse. But before anyone could react, the lights had come back on and the deck become a level floor again. Using her elbow, she activated the comms in the room, "Duty-Nurse, report!"

Deep in the Miranda, it was sometimes easy to forget that the ship was in the middle of a protracted battle. Especially when you were fighting a personal battle to keep someone alive. To stop them from a slow slide into death. That personal battle became the most important.

"Lost the primary EPS feed to Sickbay, most of Primary Sickbay are running on secondary feeds," returned the duty nurse.

"Grab Operations - we can't rely on those secondaries. Get them on rerouting the primaries as a priority, STAT."

"Yes Ma'am."

"I don't want to find I can't see a goddam patient because the lights went out."

"Yes Doctor."

Cat returned her concentration to the SRN, who helped her put on the sterile gloves. As she walked out, her OR scrub nurse came up to her, "Triage gives this one a code red - cardiac ischemia. Massive thoracic trauma. PET has pinpointed the flow disruption, but the scans can't find the blockage."

Cat nodded and didn't say anything until she actually saw the patient. Her first thought was 'death imminent,' there was little chance for a good prognosis for the woman on the table. But she spent a few seconds on studying the scans and went to the patient. She was going to have to do a thoracotomy to get to the heart.

She would split the sternum and using rib spreaders to open the rib cage apart. She hoped that when she was inside, there would be some indication to show the cause of lack of blood to the muscles of the heart. It was beating pumping blood, but it was not getting any of it's own.

She looked at the woman, the prognosis was not good at all. As she called out for the scalpel, her own concerns for the pains in her body become next to unimportant, compared to woman on her table. It was time for another personal battle.

"the one where she sets a good example"

by
Kit Jordan Elaithin
Chief of Intelligence
Captain's Wife
USS Miranda

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

For not the first time in the past two years and change, Jordan realised that being the Captain's Significant Other sucked royally.

First, there was always some sort of thing that needed his immediate attention at the worst possible time: like when she was pissed as hell and wanted to yell at him or when she wanted to seduce him or when she was opening a bottle of very good wine for the first very good dinner they'd had together for a very long time...

Second, there was always a great deal of waiting. Waiting for him to finish a briefing, or for him to get back from x meeting with y admiral, or for him to come as off duty as he came. Or for him to be able to make contact and say no, no, tales of his death were extremely exaggerated and he was fine.

Of course, the communication thing was a little more difficult when communications were down.

That was the third thing. Being the Captain's Significant Other was extremely stressful. Lots of worry was involved. It was making her age and age very quickly at that. Drove her crazy. She'd found three grey hairs and was sure this experience would bring more. She would prematurely grey like her father and his father before him. Be completely silver by the time she was thirty, she was positive.

And it was all because of this moment. Right here. She was, to put it simply, going out of her mind. How was it that her husband always got himself into these little me-against-the-bad-guys-of-the-universe situations? His life or someone else's? And inevitably, it would make him feel guilty, he let someone down and had to kill yet another person and he would piss and moan (which, in Jii terms, translated into to heavy duty sulking) about all the things he could have should have would have done better to ensure that the bad thing hadn't have happened. Even if he never communicated it out loud, she knew he was thinking it, going over all the scenarios that would have prevented the deaths of whomever or the destruction of whatever or the danger of this or that.

It was what made him attractive, sure: the tortured restless good man in a sea of evil white hat in Tombstone sort of hero way about him. That, combined with the cute ass and melt-me-into-a-puddle grin, the little hickish accent he spoke Bajoran in, those sparkling eyes, that awful sense of humour, the way that he...

And of course, if he didn't do that, it meant he was dead. Which was nine times worse.

No more cute ass.

Or grin.

Or shoulder rubs... foot massages...

And oh yes. She'd be a single mom raising twin Bajoran babies on her own.

Because THAT would be a good situation.

And for that reason, Jordan decided that no way in hell could or would Jii die. Not this time anyway. And not any time soon.

The third reason contributed greatly to the fourth and perhaps most important reason why being the Captain's Significant Other (wife in this particular case) really, really sucked. It would be one thing if she was a civilian, but she wasn't, she was an officer and a ranking one at that, which meant she was obligated to set a good example. If she panicked, visibly, everyone would. She might not replace the Captain as far as rank went, that was Brex's job, but she did in a manner of speaking. Captain de facto, the closest thing there at the moment. In a way.

Or she could be completely deluding herself. Most of the crew saw her as a loud-mouthed skanky whore-bitch who slept her way to the top and was using Jii for her own personal gains.

Though, how that really worked out she had no idea. That was the great thing about rumour though, there didn't ever need to be fact involved.

She was conjuring images of Jackie Kennedy as she sat in her chair on the bridge, frozen for a minute as she listened to the conversation between the new Breen leader and Captain M'Kantu. She wondered who the hostage was that they had killed. Was it Jii? Would that be smart? He could be great bargaining... though killing him would really be smarter, otherwise, he'd figure out a way to get out. Leaving the leader alive during a hostage situation was stupid, it didn't take a behavioural scientist to see that. Though killing the leader could also be stupid, she supposed, would inspire mutiny perhaps? But...

She was thinking too much. Be cool, calm, collected, show faith, don't let anyone think you think there could be something wrong.

Jordan swivled the small panel on the arm to face her and, using her access codes, she began to pull up everything she could find about the new Breen "government" or at least, the new party in control.

Military Coups, she thought. Never ever a good thing.

And never quiet.

There had to be something in the databases that would help them out.

Damn she wished she was down on the planet. If only so she could know for sure. She exchanged a small look with Brex and sighed, turning her eyes back to the panel and the very short, very unsubstantial profile of Thot Gor. She didn't see how this could help them.

Which meant she was useless. Utterly and completely useless.

Except, of course, for her good example.

"First Crisis Part Two"

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer

Civilian engineer wannabe,
Turan Trelar

From the outside the Galaxy was aglow as one of the shield generators exploded from a volley of fierce phaser fire. Inside the damage flowed through the ship. Not only blowing out a section of decking and two crew members but also shorting out many consoles around the ship and damaging the structural integrity. Fires raged though out many decks, injured lined the corridors and rooms.

From within deflector control the emergency lights finally flickered to life. The dim glow illuminated the wreckage. The burnt out panels smouldered. Thick, nostril offending, black smoke circled the partly collapsed ceiling. The rest of said ceiling lined the floor and its inhabitants.

Ensign Susan Delphino wrestled her way out from under the rubble, cradling a broken hand. As the lights came back up she took a hasty look round, searching for her crew mates.

Over the other side, under a charred console sat Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe staring dumbfounded at Turan Trelar.

"Don't move. Wait till I have dug you out of there" ordered the large Quentite who was still wearing his civilian clothes, namely some kind of cargo trouser like the gray denim jacket part of a boy scout uniform.

Carefully, he lifted up a large part of what once was the main deflector console and carried it away as if he planned to repair it.

The next part that covered the female engineer was a part of the ceiling obviously made of a kind of fiber resin as its edges were partly frayed out. Other areas were sharp like a knife. A blade like edge was covered with blood. Blood which came from a large cut in Dhani's right leg. Beside that there wasn't any open wound.

"Ok Dhani, you are free. Don't get up, there is something, I would like to test before."

Turan kneeled down to pinch Dhani's right foot. "Can you feel it?" he asked.

Dhani tried to nod her head, but her palm was stuck to it stemming the flow of blood from the cut she received during the free fall from the ceiling.

Turan pinched the right foot. "And this?"

"Yes." She said wincing with the pain it caused.

Turan approached the injured as he was taught during several emergency first aid workshops down on Quentin. He had no idea if this diagnostic worked for other species spines too. Nevertheless checking for reflexes couldn't do any harm.

Is everyone else okay? she asked as she surveyed herself. She was going to be covered in bruises but she had to make sure that there werent any more pressing injuries. Shifting position, to get a closer look at the gash on her leg she let out a yelp.

"Your forehead, I think I can care for that. It's you leg which is bothering me more. I think it's too deep for a simple bandage. Is there any first aid kit in this room?"

Dhani blinked several times thinking.

"Erm, Im not sure." She replied, There could be one over there she pointed to the wall near the exit and began to shift nearer.

"Ahhhh!" she screamed out, "that" . She bit her tongue, "hurts!" she concluded.

Turan climbed over a pile of debris to the wall mounted med kit. He opened it to find several packages of bandage, plaster, a rusty bent scissor - the usual stuff. At least this wasn't full of high tech gadgets. He carried the whole box over to his patient, knelt down again and bandaged her leg in a rough-and-ready way. He did the same for the heavily bleeding forehead wound as well.

"Hey, you're the one who knows how things work. Just sit there and give orders. We'll care for the rest. If the leg becomes worse we'll have to move you over to sickbay." replied Turan. "What is the first task? Search for the fire?"

Although there wasn't any open fire in the room, black smoke told of a fire nearby.

"No", Dhani replied, the fire suppression system should have them contained. She frowned as she got into a slightly more comfortable position. From her view point she could see nothing except a wall. Everything else was behind her, it was very irritating, directing Turan was going to be difficult as she was going to have to do it all in reverse.

"Can you see the fires in the consoles?" she asked, "They should look slightly green." She told him.

"No open fires. But there's smoke coming from the one at the door. I will have a closer look at it." answered Turan and crawled back over the pile of debris.

The console's display already started to melt away. Together with the black smoke there was no doubt,there was something burning inside. Turan tried to open the cover but found it to hot to even touch it so he raised his foot and gave the console's cover a nice hard kick.

The cover cracked and fell to the floor. Indeed, there was a thick bush of cables smouldering inside. Turan ripped the fire extinguisher off the wall and aimed the cable. With two or three short pushes of the throttle the cables were covered with white foamy dust. The smouldering was gone.

Behind the wall of debris ensign Susan Delphino still searched. On seeing a hand beneath the wreckage she began to franticly pull the debris away, with one hand it was slow work,

"Help!" I need some help in here! She shouted, hoping that someone could hear her.

"Whats wrong?" Dhani shouted back turning her head upwards so that her voice would carry over the console remains.

"It's Ensign Meowki Haat, he's hurt....bad." Susan shouted back.

"Emergency beam out." Dhani replied. ~ The obvious thing to do she thought!~

Susan sighed, "I can't he's pinned down, through the shoulder!" she replied. Kneeling next to him she took his hand in hers, "it's gonna be okay Meowki", she told him, "we'll get you out."

He nodded quickly, his face contouring with the pain. Little beads of sweat rolled down his face, finding a point on what was left of the ceiling he focused on it, going through all the Starfleet emergency procedures in his head, what to do in a situation like this.

Dhani cast a worried glance to Turan,

"Can you get to them?" she asked him wishing so much that she could get up. This was so frustrating.

Turan walked over to the two engineers carefully not to slip on the dust covered debris. He needed all his strange to remove the heavy part of debris half covering the pinned down engineer.

"Looks bad", reported the Quentite. "There's already a large poodle of blood. I don't dare to remove the fragment. "

"No! Don't remove it." Dhani shouted quickly, "if you do you may kill him." She paused to think. How on earth could they get him out? She couldn't even see what the damage was. Remembering that Susan had said he was pinned she figured that she meant the mettle, or whatever it was, went through him and into the floor beneath.

"You will have to cut him out." Dhani said. It was almost like she could hear his vacant expression.

"You will need a phaser.." she replied to his silent question, "bring it to me and I will change the setting." She ordered.

"A phaser?" asked Turan and looked at Susan.

First, something inside Susan hesitated to hand out her weapon to the alien giant, then she tried to take her phaser with her right hand, but twisted her face in pain. Reaching for the phaser with her left hand she passed it over to Turan.

Turan crawled the way back to Dhani and presented her the phaser.

Taking the phaser from him she proceed to change the setting to a high energy output.

"You must be careful." She told him earnestly, "this will send out a high energy beam, a laser beam." She took his hands as she passed the phaser back to him, "If you put it too close to his skin you could burn him." She told him locking on to his eyes, making sure the message sunk in.

Turan took the phaser and aimed the splinter where it entered at the ensigns back. His hand shivered. Shaking his head, he offered the phaser to Susan. "Can't do it. I never used one before", he explained.

Susan raised her broken right hand. She replied "You must. I can't do it."

Turan nodded. He aimed a piece of debris a step away from the engineer and fired. The bright beam cut straight through the part without any effort and even left its marks on the floor underneath. Content he aimed the splinter protruding from Meowky's back and took a deep breath and again engaged the phaser's thin beam. With the blink of an eye, the arm-thick splinter was cut. "He's free!"

'Thank goodness' Dhani thought, "Susan, get him to sick bay." She half shouted.

Susan complied immediately, leaning down she scooted closer putting her arm around Ensign Haat, tapping her com badge,

"Emergency beam out, two to beam directly to sick bay."

Within a second the both of them disappeared before Turan's eyes.

Dhani let out a long sigh of relief. And then half groaned.

"Give me a hand would you." She asked Turan as she began to pull her self up on the burnt out console,

"We have to get to engineering." She said grinding her teeth against the pain.

"More than that" replied Turan. "I don't allow you to walk."

Turan lifted Dhani up like a husband his wife and carried her to the exit.

Dhani was quite shocked; no one had picked her up like that in years. After a few seconds she put her arms round his neck and tried to keep a suitable distance from his face. Quite an impossible task, but still she tried.

"You asked me why I called you Naut. First, I wasn't even able to tell. Nobody told me how to address you. I didn't even know you name. Somehow Naut came into my mind. Do you remember the day, you broke my nose? Remember what you told me?"

Dhani cringed at the memory, suddenly feeling very venerable in his arms. She hesitated before answering,

"Yes." She said trying not to. She had obsessed about that day for so long, the things she had done and said as Naut. And the things that had led her to 'remove' Naut from herself in a way that almost killed her.

"I remember." She almost whispered.

NRPG: This has a few excepts from Trevor's "Aches and Pains." Trevor, let me know if you'd like to JP. ~Lori

"Triage"

Lt. Ryley Kincaid, RN
Chief Nurse/Counselor
USS Miranda

Adrenaline coursed through Ryley as she moved through Sickbay's main ward. She told herself the next time she felt sorry for herself for being in a grav-chair, she'd think of this moment. As much as Starfleet tried to minimize the potential for accidents, even during battle, many of the cases they saw were simply a result of not being able to hang on for the ride. At least thanks to her grav-chair, Ry never had to worry about unfortunate spills onto the deck

Of course, that still did nothing for their occasional power outages. And naturally, even though it was not in her nature to kill the messenger (or in this case, at least blast him with rage), Ryley couldn't help but wonder how in the blue blazes she was supposed to help anyone when she had to worry every second of not having basic visual cues.

Being Chief Nurse during a crisis of this magnitude was like trying to plug the holes of a sinking ship with just two hands. As soon as she thought she had it all under control, another leak would be sprung. Cat was in the OR, and so it fell to her to make sure triage was done efficiently and that all doctors had the assistance they needed. Fancy protocols aside, it simply meant she was required to move like a chicken with its head cut off while simultaneously not trying to bump into the furniture or trample anyone while the lights were off.

On her way to answer the blaring call of a biobed monitor, a pale, shaking hand fell from a gurney and blocked her path. Ryley looked up and noted it belonged to a young woman covered in, and coughing up, her own blood. It didn't take a tricorder scan to tell her this woman was in grave condition. Feeling the prickle of tears developing in her eyes, for she could never quite accept death even after all her years of practice, Ry smiled gently and placed the woman's hand up on the gurney. "Rest. I'll get you something for the pain."

Just as Kincaid was about to move away, the pale hand grabbed her wrist, this time more forcefully. The woman's voice was hoarse, but her vehemence was clear. "Please...help me." The injured woman's eyes bored into Ryley's soul, and before she could register pulling it open, her tricorder was out and scanning.

Cardiac ischemia. Thoracic trauma. Ry knew the odds, and even while part of her knew she needed to move on to give others a better chance, another part of her just simply couldn't move away. "Sandra, red line this one!" Cat might ream her for this, but at least she'd be able to sleep tonight. In the span of a heart beat, the gurney was whisked away and Ryley was left wondering what the hell she had just done.

"Duty-Nurse, report!"

Cat's sudden hail startled her and she reflexively tapped her badge. "Lost the primary EPS feed to Sickbay, most of Primary Sickbay are running on secondary feeds," returned Kincaid.

"Grab Operations - we can't rely on those secondaries. Get them on rerouting the primaries as a priority, STAT."

"Yes, Ma'am." replied Ry, suddenly very anxious to end this exchange. After all that Cat had been through, it didn't feel right to add to her burden.

"I don't want to find I can't see a goddam patient because the lights went out."

"Yes, Doctor." Khatroweena was really only echoing her own frustration, but Ry was still taken aback by the harshness of her words. It wasn't at all like her.

For now she had more important things to worry about.

"I have to steer WHAT?"
Commander Gail Dawson

Gail was very concerned. Although she knew Jack was all right, he STILL had to be hurting over his encounter with the Hive. He had some deep dark secrets hidden that she didn't even want to know.

But it was time to get little Victor to sickbay for a checkup. It was not normal, but the doctor wanted to make sure everything was all right with the little boy. He had Borg nanites in him. Thats what frightened her. If the doctor said she had nothing to be afraid of, why did he want to see the baby every week?

Gail was also blessed that the ship had assigned her a nanny. She and Jack knew they wanted to raise the children themselves, but they knew they needed help. And she had to get back to duty soon. Whatever that duty was. Hazard team was not for her. But she loved being a ranger. Flying those ships were her specialty. In fact, she really didn't know if anyone knew that was her secret passion. But that was another story.

As Gail walked into sickbay she saw the doctor, waiting for them. He took little Victor with a big smile and started the oh so predictable battery of tests on the little guy. Gail sat back and could only watch.

Even stranger was Commander Brex walking through the door. Gail didn't even notice, she had her focus on her child. The Trill second officer sat down next to her, and well, scared the crap out of her.

"Commander" Gail said almost jumping out of her seat "I didn't notice you there."

He smiled "Its all right. Its been a while since we chatted. And the ship's been a little busy....." the gregarious Bolian trailed off.

"I know, Commander. I know." And in a strange way she got the courage up confront a long held deamon. "Sir, do I have permission to speak freely?"

"Of course."

"Good" And she was relieved a little "Sir, I'm not certain I've given you or the Captain a real chance. Its not fair, I know."

"Commander," Brex frowned, blue eyebrows knitting together. "I'm not really sure what you mean."

Gail continued "When Murdock died, I was angry, and scared, and mad as hell.
I still am. Then they sent Captain Elaithin to replace him. A great captain in his own right. But they sent him to replace Victor, and I don't think anyone ever could. Then Coolidge left too, and O'Grady was around, and for so long that I thought that I'd be on track to command this ship one day myself. And so, I haven't given you or the Captain a fair chance."

Brex was glad to hear Gail tell him this, though apart of the Bolian wished the woman was confiding in the Captain instead. Captain wasn't here right now though, he was down on Breen enduring gods only knew what while they made their extortionist demands of the Miranda and the Galaxy. He knew she had always been nothing but professional with him. But that's all she had been. Any observer could have told something was bothering her, but she was just too professional.

"I understand you were very close with him." Brex admitted. He didn't know much more about Murdock than only what everyone in the Fleet had known about the man. He had become a Starfleet legend, after all, seemingly even more so since his death.

"Brex, he was like a father to me. But" and she turned to him "well, I think I should tell the rest to the Captain himself

"I would agree." he said "For the meantime, however... I expect you would have no problem reporting for duty at 0800 to the helm."

She was stunned. She really didn't have a position on the ship....she was just an Observer with the Hazard team, and that didn't entail a great deal of work, and to fly again... "Captain, you want me to be a helm officer?"

"No."

"Oh, well, then.."

"I need you to take of the Department. Taalis was injured during the battle, and Cat's not entirely certain she's ever going to wake up. Farraday's not much better off, and the rest of the pilots we have are either Rogues or children. It seems like half the senior crew or assistant chiefs got hit pretty hard in that fight, so we're drumming up who we need out of the general crew."

Gails mouth dropped and she could not say a word. Not one word.

Brex stood with the shocked Dawson still sitting and staring at him. "See you on the Bridge, Commander."

All Gail could think of was "I Have to steer WHAT??????"

"Midnight Oil"

Ensign Sh'laran
Flight Control Officer,
USS Galaxy

Anyone who might have walked into Galaxy's navigational lab would have been treated to the sight of a tall blue figure bent over a console in the middle of the room. Ever since the already costly battle, Sh'laran had been there, forcing his mind to work in ways that were never intended. Little or nothing made sense on the monitor in front of him, and his antennae twitched in irritation.

Cloaking devices were never something he had liked, but it hadn't occured to him until recently that the damn things had weaknesses. Thus he had been spending hours studying all the old files on cloaks, and trying to figure out why the hell those two Breen ships had been following the Galaxy and Miranda in the first place.

Miranda...

The irony never did escape him. Over two centuries, and then his first mission in the new Starfleet was alongside the vessel named in honor of the very one he'd disappeared on in the first place.

He shook the thought from his mind. There were far more important matters to attend to; namely, trying to keep Galaxy in its current un-blown-up state by getting the two ships through the Breen's little mission sucessfully.

He put his head back down to the monitor and returned to work.

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer

Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder
Chief of Engineering

“There’s a new Chief in town.” Part One of Two.

The doors to engineering opened and Turan walked in carrying Dhani. She directed him to the main central console. Most of engineering seemed to be intact although the fire damage was obvious. He set her down gently on a stool. Dhani smiled her thanks quickly and then turned to the console. Damage reports were flooding in from all over the ship, at first the increasing data seemed overwhelming. Looking up she scanned the room for Suder, but he was no where to bee seen. Taking a beep breath she looked back down and began to sieve through the information taking out the priorities and posting them up on the job board.

Turan sat across from her, obviously awaiting his next task. Their trip back to Engineering had been silent. She desperately wanted to know if he remembered anything of their 20 odd years together, after all he had just called her Naut. That had to mean something, right? But now was not the time. But she couldn’t focus; the need to know was eating away at her. He seemed completely unaware of the questions flooding through her mind. She looked up at him,

“Turan…” she began, “do you remember….” her eyes shifted and locked on to something behind him, “Ensign Delphino.” She concluded.

Turans puzzled expression was answered as the Ensign approached,

“Sir?” she questioned.

“Ensign, how’s the hand?” Dhani asked.

“Better than ever.” She replied with a smile.

“Deflector control is a mess, as you know.” Dhani started getting straight down to business, “I would like you to get it sorted.” She paused, “Take Turan with you.” She gave him a small smile, knowing that he wanted to get his hands ‘dirty’.

The ensign nodded and left Engineering with Turan at her heels. Dhani watched them leave before turning back to the console.

More reports had been collated during the short exchange, sighing she began to scan the list again.

One thing Dhani became thankful of was the fact that the stool she sat on had wheels, which made it so much easier to get around with her hurt leg. Scooting from one side of the desk to the wall panel was a doddle.

She continued working back and forth, as other engineers came in she directed them to the jobs board which she was constantly updating in-between repairing several systems. She was so involved in what she was doing that when Suder approached she directed him to the jobs board too.

Suder looked tired, not that Dhani had even noticed, not that it would matter to her or anyone. His eyes were red and looked sore and he had a slight beard growing. Clearly he’d lost his razor blade sometime a couple of days ago, though it was more likely he hadn’t had time to shave.

He nodded with a smile that she did not see as she directed him to the job board where various Engineers had gathered to begin their new tasks. Several of them smiled as they noticed Dhani telling people, including him to go to the job board to find out what they could repair next. He quickly half smiled back at them as he examined the board.

Scanning left to right, he looked at all the repairs. Then turning back to Dhani, he spoke, “Repairs to the engines should be a priority over the Deflector Control room.” He commented.

Dhani didn’t even look up to see who was talking, she was busy!

“I think you will find that……” she replied slowly, “the repairs to the engines are…..” she continued to tap franticly at the panel, “complete.” She concluded pressing one last button. She smiled at the information that came up on her screen before pushing her self away from the panel and back to the central island.

Ethan slowly followed behind her, his arms crossed. “More or less, except one of the injectors has a slight fracture. Not an issue at the moment, but it will be when we go to warp. So unless you want to flood several decks….” He trailed off, hoping she would catch on that it was him talking, not a junior officer.

Dhani cursed silently and re checked the readouts. Sure enough he was right, she proceeded to take the Warp engines off line, “Well I suggest you go fix them then, instead of whinging to me about it. Use your initiative!” she replied sounding harassed. Her leg was beginning to throb now. Pushing the pain away mentally she ploughed on, “and take Lieutenant Jason with you.”

She paused a moment and rubbed her brow the bandage covering her head was beginning to itch. She brought up a display of the ship. And sighed at the state of the shields, she tapped the display thoughtfully.

Ethan looked over at the repair board and the various Engineers that were grabbing their gear and kits, about to head off to their assigned sections. He then looked across Engineering at the busy Engineers working near the warp core. He gaze finally centred on the back of Dhani’s head. With a sarcastic smile and a shrug, he replied, “As you wish. You have Engineering…” he said.

He side-stepped the master system display console and raised his hand. “Tom, let’s go, we have work to do… apparently.”

Tom Jason quickly replied with a smile and grabbed his engineering kit and followed Ethan passed the system display console behind Ethan who gave Dhani a wink as he passed.

Dhani nodded, not really paying attention, she should have guessed at the line ‘you have engineering’ and the wink but she didn’t even pick up on it,

“Hey Jason,” she called out, “If you see Suder tell him I’m going to the Bridge via Sick Bay.” She wiggled her toes, yep they still work! She stood up using the desk for support, “Cargo bay four is still empty isn’t it?” she asked him as she picked up several pads from the table top.

“Yeah, it is.” Jason replied. He turned back to Suder. “Ethan, Dhani’s going to the Bridge.”

Ethan waved his hand in acknowledgment and continued on his way out of Engineering with Jason.

Several sniggers erupted around engineering as Suder left, but still Dhani didn’t notice. She cast them all a glance that said ‘get back to work’ before slinging her tool kit on her shoulder and grabbing several data pads. Slowly she hobbled out of engineering. She didn’t even notice the eruption of laughter that trailed out of the doors as they closed behind her, as her nose was firmly stuck in the data pads.

"Too Old For This Shit"

by
Lt. Corran "Spots" Rex
Vanguard Squadron CO

&
Flight Officer Jasmine "Jazz" Heloi
Vanguard Squadron Exec

[Fighter Country]

Corran was, to put not too fine a point on it, sulking. The Vanguards had acquitted themselves in the battle rather well, all things considered. But then, coming home with two bodies instead of two pilots... that never went well.

Pilot Kell Tainer, Killed in Action.

Pilot Jackston Stone, Killed in Action.

The brightly colored words seemed to glare accusingly at him.

Jasmine, feeling more battered and sore than she had a right to considering that she had been on the 'cushy' Breen vessel, entered fighter country with a slight frown on her face. One of the first things she wanted to do after the insanity of their imprisonment on the Breen ship was to check in with Corran. She had heard that while the Vanguard had done well, there had been some losses. Those, she knew all too well, always hurt.

The Betazoid stepped into Corran's office a short time later and leaned against the doorway with a concerned look on her face, "Want to talk about it?" she asked, though it might be rather funny considering her appearance a the moment. She was dusty, dirty, and a single scrape marred her otherwise unmarred face. In short, she looked like she had been captured, snuck out through a vent, re-captured, and barely escaped certain death not ten minutes earlier.

The Commander of the Vanguards rubbed the sore spot on his head roughly, trying to make the headache go away. Since the end of the fight, he'd not had time to visit sickbay - he'd been too busy checking on the rest of his pilots. "Hey." he said, looking up finally as Jazz stepped into the office. "Look like you had yourself an adventure"

"You could say that again," she smiled slightly, "I just wish I was out in my fighter when they decided to throw us into 'protective custody.' I'll tell you about that later, though. How are you doing?"

"We lost Tainer and Stone." the Trill replied without preamble. "The Breen government's been overthrown, and our diplomatic team is being held hostage until we go and beat the Breen's enemies for them. Oh, and did I mention the part where we have to do what they want, because even if we got past *their* minefield, most of local subspace is filled with dead zones, and we'd be forced to way fifteen, twenty years just to make it back to the border? My day's been peachy. Yours?"

"Aw hell," Jasmine said as she stepped further into the room only to collapse into one of the chairs in front of Corran's desk, "I'm so sorry, Corran." She knew that Corran had taken special interest in Kel Tainer, and to learn that he was dead. The poor man. Her eyes were sympathetic as she continued, "If there's anything I can do..." The rest of the news did not really come as much of a shock as they should. After her rather rough treatment on the Breen ship, not much could surprise her anymore when it came to them.

"Another fight. Another kid dead."he shrugged, his eyes a little deader than they'd been before. "Vorrin's been telling me to get over it for the last hour, but I took a little higher than average dose of my medication to shut him up. I've got to send letters to these kids parents - and I'm not even sure why we're fighting here. What the hell are we here for?"

'Aw hell,' she thought to herself when it finally hit her how Corran was truly feeling. It was never easy to loose someone in your team, but this time...it seemed to really be hitting him hard. "We're here, Corran, because it seemed for a brief moment that there was a chance for peace... Admittedly, that turned out to be false but it was a chance none the less. And that's definitely worth fighting for. It's not your fault that they died, Corran. If anyone it's our enemy's fault. It's the Breen's fault. It's not yours. We all know the possible price of our service in Starfleet...and I can bet you that they knew it, too." She hated the expression in his eyes, they were lifeless and lack-luster.

"They were kids, Jazz." he replied. "I'm over five hundred old. I've had thirteen lives, including this one. You're all just children. I'm tired of watching them die."

She suppressed the sigh that she had wanted to heave after hearing his words. In his shoes, she supposed that she'd be tired of it too, but... "Yes, they were kids," she agreed, "But what you don't seem to be, well, understanding is that it happens. Life and death is as inevitable as the spinning of this galaxy. People die. Stop focusing on the end of the story. What matters is how they lived. And I can guarantee you that they *lived* as well as they could for the time allotted to them."

"Been reading your old scripts again, I see. Wasn't that in one of your episodes? Your character had a lot of speeches like that, I remember."

"That's because *I* wrote them," Jasmine replied, pinching the bridge of her nose, "That doesn't make what I said any less truthful."

"Yeah. I know - I know all of that. It just takes a little time, some days." he said weakly. "The Squadrons going to be yours for a few days. Captain's asked me to fly Cutter and Geluf in one of the runabouts to try to capture one of these subspace mines, see if we can't figure some *other* way of taking it out, rather than just mounting an assault on whatever stronghold the Hyrdrans and T'Kith'Kin have over here."

One elegant eyebrow arched in surprise, "They really did make an ultimatum for us to take out their enemies' strongholds... unbelievable. But, Corran....between the two of us, you need to know. When I was on that Breen vessel, Wes and I were placed under 'protective custody' during the attack. We managed to escape, but before we could affect our own rescue, we were recaptured. From the way the Breen were acting...I don't see them as any more trustworthy than a Ferengi with a key to a latinum mine. "

"I'd agree. My gut says that this coup isn't exactly on our side." the senior pilot replied.

"Then, just do me a favor and watch your six out there. I take it you won't be bringing any Vanguard backup with you when you head out?"

"No. You'll need everyone we've got out there." he said, and rubbed a hand down his face for a moment. "Have the tech crew assemble the two spare fighters from storage, and pull two pilots from the crew's backup pool."

"I will. Take care of yourself out there, Corran," she said as she started making a move to leave, "You've still got a lot of living in you."

"I'm too old to die, Jazz."

Jasmine smiled faintly at that, "Just keep that in mind, my friend. I'll get the gears in motion."

"Deck 14"

Lt. Circidon Yashanti

“Deck Fourteen”

Circ rubbed her sore hands as the turbolift began its decent to the crew decks. The lights in the corridors and lift were dim, as energy was still being drained to keep shields up. The ops situation was bad and getting worse. Jaal would not be getting any sleep anytime soon. Nor anyone in engineering for that matter.

Circ had been replaced. She was fine with that, her replacement, a junior grade, had half a year experience on her. She just wanted to see her husband, her daughter, and sleep the sleep of the damned....

The lift jarred and jolted, a red light coming on and the calm female voice starfleet felt made people feel better came on like an aged schoolmarm. “The lift cannot continue” it stated, like that was news, “Engineering has been alerted to your situation.”

“Negate that” Circ said, already climbing the lift walls and reaching for the emergency hatch “What deck am I on?”

“You are on deck twelve” the computer answered.

“Short walk in the park then” Circ muttered as she pulled herself out of the lift.

TEN MINUTES LATER

The ensign was startled when an emergency escape jeffries hatch started making banging noises. “Man oh man” he grumbled “I just reattached that damn hatch...”

BANG

The door came off the ceiling with explosive force, hitting some debris on the floor and falling away noisily. A light orange fist, slightly bloody showed itself as responsible for the damage in the doors place.

“Whoever is sealing emergency hatches in a fraking EMERGENCY is gonna be sorry...” a highly displeased Circidon said darkly as she fell through the small door and landed in an organized heap on the floor.

The guy was about to ask who the hell would be coming out of a damaged tube in a volatile area, but Circidon was pretty easy to recognize. The ensign was one of the crew who both distrusted and blamed Circidon for the chaos of the last few years.

“Normal people call ahead and find out, SIR” he said. “This section is off limits due to hull breach.”

The idiot had a point. In her fatigue Circ had never thought to call ahead. “Hull breach?...” the implications drained slowly into her continuousness. “What sections....”

“Seventeen thru twenty...why...” them man had a look come over his face. A look that Circ knew well from her upbringing. It was evil. Pure and simple.

“That's where your quarters are, aren't they. Too bad no one made it....”

Circ was ignoring the smile on the mans face, she was ignoring people in her way, until she came to the glowing containment field that held back the vacuum on the other side. Her quarters were gone...nothing...

“You can’t be here, sir!” A woman was pulling on her arm. “Your husband is in critical condition in medical, your daughter was lost...”

No she wasn’t Circ thought to herself, looking out into the open mass of twisted metal, i would know. I would.....

There she was.

Huddled inside a crook against the vacuum and absolute zero of space.

Alive. And these sic crewmember must of seen her. But they would never understand. Or maybe...maybe they did. She noticed they had stopped speaking.

“Step away from the field, Circidon” the ensign said, coldly. Circ did not turn, she knew they had phasers on her. She was as good as dead. and they had it all nicely set up. She had made it easy for them by not calling ahead. She would not make that mistake again.

But for now she had to get her daughter.

“You guys are such amateurs” she said in a growl. “If your going to kill somebody, just DO it. Torture just wastes time.” Circ looked at the way they had set p the field. Portable generator, set directly into the ship grid for power....repaired power node...

“Turn around, I wanted to see the eyes of a terrorist before i kill her” the ensign said, almost losing his cool as he said. She did turn, seeing the six officers with shaking phasers in their hands. They hadn’t planned this, they were just taking advantage of the situation.

Too bad for them.

When she looked at them finally, it wasn’t fear or remorse they saw in her eyes.

It was fury.

“My dad was on Starbase One, her sister was on Xanthe, you bitch. This is for them...”

“Indeed...” Circ said finishing her turn and throwing her humming phaser at the power node feeding the generator. “It is.”

First there was a flash. Some of them got wild phaser shots off before space resumed its reclamation of the deck for its own. Air rushed out in a silent burst, and the temperature plummeted ten degrees a second. But Circidon did not fight it. Her and the debree flew into the hole.

She had not had much time as she flew from the ship toward the sharp remains of section 20. But the open corridor where her daughter was hidden was fairly easy to see. She hit it at twenty kilometers an hour, her arm shattering into bits inside the rapidly freezing flesh. She managed to struggle her way toward her daughter, who smiled underneath the sheet of ice that covered her.

Circidon's skin began to flake off, and her vision cut out as her eyeballs expanded and froze. But she touched her daughter, and somehow managed to tap a small signal on her comm with the frozen blood on her fingertip.

On the bridge, Jaal was shocked to see Circ’s private emergency signal pop up from...section 20 of deck fourteen. Long experience with Circidon made for swift action, and he focused on her signal and beamed her...and apparently somebody else...into sickbay.

He never saw the other six bodies. Their comms were not listed on Miranda’s database. As Miranda sped away from Breen, they silently floated into the dark of the unwelcoming void.

"The Honeymoon",
part One

Captain Elaithin Jii looked rather askance at the walls of the cell that the Breen had provided him. Their "hosts" had made no seeming distinctions, tossing each member of the Diplomatic Team into cells in pairs with no apparent thought as to who they were putting together.

By chance, Jii ended up with none other than Karyn Dallas as a cellmate.

After they'd been sitting for a time, the Second Officer of the Galaxy gave a sigh. "Reminds me of Romulus." she finally said, breaking the silence.

"Reminds me of my honeymoon." the Bajoran Captain replied with a snort.

Dallas raised an eyebrow at her friend. "That's news." she said. "Care to share."

Checking his chronometer, Jii did some quick calculations. "Sure, we've got time." he stated, sitting on the cold metal floor, and beginning his tale.....

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

Two Years Ago.....

Wrigley's Pleasure Planet

The rear of the transport ship was dark, dirty, and cramped, filled with containers of smuggled merchandise, large weapon stores, three dead bodies and two live ones. Jordan and Elaithin Jii were tied back to back with strong, unbreakable rope (or so it seemed), tied so tightly it was difficult to breathe. "Well. This turned out well, didn't it?" Jordan stated. "It's true that a significant number of newly weds do, indeed, take pleasure cruises. But Jii. Darling. I'M NOT SURE THIS COUNTS. We could have done something normal. Risa. Paris. Hell, a nice little bed and breakfast on Bajor wouldn't have been too bad either. But no. Wrigley's Pleasure Planet, he says. It'll be fun, he says. Well Jii. You were right. I'm having a hellovalotta fun right now." Jii only sighed.

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

The honeymoon had started well enough. There was a bit of a tiff as to where they would go (Jordan was pushing for somewhere quiet and remote, he wanted somewhere a little more 'fun', she was offended because, what, she wasn't 'fun' enough for him? and the argument had gone from there). In the end, she'd reneged and agreed to explore Wrigley's Pleasure Planet with him. He'd heard rumors from his edge-of-the-law friends and wanted to check it out for himself. When they got there, they found it to be about as seedy as Jordan had expected, but Jii looked like a kid in a candy store. "I know what you're thinking," Jordan said, wrinkling her nose as she pinched the sheets of their hotel room bed between the tips of her thumb and index finger. She wondered if they had been changed and decided that floor might be a safer place... "You're thinking there must be a heck of a lot of scum bags floating around this place. You're thinking about-- is that what I think it is?" She bent and peered closer. "Jii. Our bed had a credit slot. The bed vibrates. The sheets are a hundred days old and the bed has three options for vibration."

"Well then." He grinned mischievously at his new wife. "Why don't we try them out? The technology has to have been around forever for a reason."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Well. Dear. Do you want the Rock My World. The Ride 'em Cowboy. Or the Hard and Messy? You have a little bit of time to think about it because don't think for a minute that you're getting me into those sheets, not until the maid comes and changes them. I already called, she should be--" There was a knock on the door and she looked at her husband. "Let's hope these are bet--" The door was kicked open and before either of them could react their was a large blast that thudded into the wall above the headboard.

Jii reacted with the reflexes of a lifelong fighter - and he seemed to have always been one, in some fashion or another. Tossing Jordan behind the bed, he reached into his boot to pull his holdout phaser.

Briefly, he questioned the wisdom of the type of honeymoon where one had to make certain one carried a phaser.

"Then a gain, a trip to Risa wouldn't have been nearly as fun." he muttered to himself as he sent a warning shot through the newly opened hole in the wall. "Identify yourselves!" he yelled out through the smoky cloud that was part blasted drywall, and part substances best left unknown.

Never mind, Jordan thought, the floor would definitely not be safer... What the--- ewe.... "I'm not here to negotiate you frelling piece of targ shit! Now come out here so we can kill you right and proper!" came the shouted response. "Who the hell have you managed to piss off in the past hour, Jii? Seriously," Jordan said, "aside from me, my hand found some goop and I don't--" "Enough chatting!" Another blast, widening the hole. "Good God," Jordan said, sighing and crawling toward her bag. Damned if she was going to be going through this without a phaser. Opening it, she took the Klingon Disrupter -- at heavy stun it allotted the worst possibly hangover and frankly, she liked to make anyone shooting at her as miserable as possible -- and began to program it quickly, glancing at her husband. "Ideas?"

"Shoot and run." he offered quickly, ducking back down behind the now upturned bed. "And what makes you think I pissed the guys off. Who's to reckon you didn't?"

"Maybe it's a group of angry maids," Jordan deadpanned, crawling closer to him. She definitely had learned from her mother how to deal with the 'help' and admitted it wasn't always friendly. She tipped well though, if the service was satisfactory. If it wasn't, well... she wasn't above getting someone sacked. "Maybe my reputation precedes me. Just give the order, Captain, we'll give these maids a taste of their own medicine. But give 'em a chance to surrender, just in case."

"I don't suppose you fellas are of a mind to surrender?" Jii called out, raising his head slightly. Their attackers took the opportunity to take another shot of relieving the Bajoran of something so burdensome as a head.

"I think that's a no."

"Worth a shot, poor bastards. Give the count, husband."

"Ah, why wait?" he asked with a grin, and stood and starting loosing shots. His shot took the first one down, and then the other two fellows had the bad manners to fall before he'd even shot them.

Though the police officers standing behind them with weapons pulled (and apparently used) may have just had something to do with that. "Captain Elaithin, Lieutenant Commander Jordan?" a voice called out.

"That depends." Jii automatically replied. "Who's asking?"

"Special Agent Wilson Travers, Federation Bureau of Investigations. Are you all right, Captain?" the man in the lead asked. Not police then, but Feds. "I'm sure you'll understand if we'd like to see some verification of that, first." Jii replied, not quite lowering his weapon yet. "Toss your badge over here, Agent."

"Really, Captain - "

"The badge, Agent." the Bajoran said, his tone growing much firmer. It landed at Jordan's feet, and he nodded to her to pick it up.

She sighed and did so. Federation agents. Fabulous. She knew what this meant: either they were recruiting or they were about to inform them that they had prices on their heads for some reason or another. Her blaster trained on a portly agent with a bad comb-over, she bent and picked it up, examining it a minute, lifting an eyebrow. "Check out the designation there," she said, tossing it back toward her husband, who caught it in one hand. She grasped her blaster in both, keeping her aim.

"Allright." Elaithin sighed, lowering his weapon. "What's the FBI want with us, and would you happen to know why strangely unwashed men are trying to kill us on our honeymoon?"

"Well, for one thing, they weren't trying to kill you," the agent said, "they were trying to kill Shep Callen and Madden James, who they thought you were." "Why would they think that?" Jordan asked, lowering her weapon for the moment. "Because we told them that." "Oh, I should kill you and say they did it!" Jordan exclaimed, raising her weapon. "Jordan!" Jii exclaimed. "Wysanalar Masskos, this man," he pointed to the dead guy, the one that Jii had killed, "is part of the Orion Syndicate. He's a small part of it, and one low down on the totem poll, but a part. The people that we, ah, made you impersonate are part of a different smuggling ring, one that Masskos believed had screwed him over." "You're going to ask us to help you," Jordan said. "I don't believe it. I don't fucking-- it's our honeymoon for Christ's sake."

"Thank you gentlemen, but no thank you." Elaithin replied with a faint shake of his head. "We are, as my wife said, on our honeymoon."

Travers sighed. "Captain, that's not an option available to you, I'm afraid."

That draw a stern frown from Jii, and was about to draw a much more strongly worded response from Jordan, but he put a hand on her indicating he should handle it.

"We're on matrimonial leave, Agent." Jii stated firmly. "That regulation doesn't apply."

The Agent pulled a PADD out, with a section highlighted. "Read this Captain. You'll find that in cases of necessity, that can be waived."

The Bajoran's eyes scanned the PADD, cursing under his breath as his eyes confirmed the other man's words. "What're your grounds, Agent?"

"Your past as a smuggler, Captain." Travers replied. "You have contacts that are usable, and you know how to act. We need an infiltration, and none of our agents can get in. You've got the experience, skills, and contacts that we need, and we need now. The Syndicate is into something big, and we need to put a stop to it."

"I presume that if we refuse, certain charges might be leveled?"

"I'm hoping it won't come to that, Captain. But if you cooperate, then we will insure that those charges will never be a problem for you again."

"I see."

"Fuck. Just what I need, another undercover mission," Jordan muttered to herself as she shook her head paced backward toward her husband, nudging one of the dead men with the toe of her boot. She picked up his weapon and examined it: it was the energy weapon equivalent of a sawed-off shot gun, hence the blasting. It was lighter than she expected, and she realized almost laughingly that the energy cell was all but depleted. She moved over to the next as Jii continued to converse with the agent. She'd let him handle it while she went over the scenarios in her head: what they had with them versus what the bad guys might have, and she was recalling everything she could about the Orion Syndicate. She was also trying to figure out when, exactly, it was that her husband had been a smuggler, but she figured that was probably a long story she wasn't quite ready for --- yet. It was certainly a piece of information to file away though. "Okay. So, here's how I understand it. These guys," she nudged one of the bodies harder, "are Orion Syndicate. Creepy, in translation. Bad. Certainly crooked. You set us up by leaking to them that we are some other team trying to take over their operation, thus why they want us dead. You play rescue hero just when we're about to blast our way out of it and tell us we'll be set up on charges of treason if we don't put our honeymoon plans on hold, come off leave, and acquiesce to your demands to impersonate these people and pull an infiltration job. I guess we don't really have to ask why us: I'm a trained intelligence officer and he's a captain with a reputation for all sorts of crazy shit. But here's what I want to know: what's this thing you want us to do, why, and how long until you leave us alone?"

"Well, if you want to sit down for a little bit, we'll discuss exactly that." Travers replied.

Elaithin gave a large sigh. "Fine, Agent Travers. Have a seat, and we'll talk."

"Fly on the Wall"

Crewman Poortant

Crewman Unger M. Poortant, known as 'Un' to his friends, had a very simple job aboard the Federation Starship Miranda. He had the grand-sounding title of 'Illumination Specialist.'. It meant that, in essence, all maintenance and management of the shipboard lighting systems were under his control - and, in layman's terms, it was a fancy way of saying that he was, in essence, a light bulb changer.

There were worse jobs, he had decided. Even if, with as many fights as Miranda had seemed to get into lately, he was kept awfully busy. It left little time recently to pursue is recreational spy games on the holodeck with his friend, a typically gregarious Bolian named Relgiez.

It did, though, have a few advanatages. Nemely, after a fight, he was usually summoned to fix the lighting systems on the Bridge first off - and that no one paid much attention to him. He therefore ended up hearing much more than someone of his admittedtly low rank would generally hear through normal channels.

At the moment, he was listening to a discussion between Commanders Brex and Jaxom, the Miranda's two senior-most officers in the absence of the Captain, and Captain M'Kantu of the Galaxy.

[... My science officers tell me that this subspace null-field surrounding Breen space seems to be coming from some sort of wide-range mine field. Not the ones the Breen have set up for thier defensive peremiter, but, according to the scans we can get, some sort of odd hyrbid between technological and living components. Sensor are having a hard time locking on to them, so I'm sending a team in a runabout to try to capture one."] the African Captain was saying.

The Bolian Commander nodded. "Our own Mister Mitchell has just finished informing me of the same. Even if we were able to rescue the diplomatic team, so long as those subspace mines are in place, it would take us years simply to get back to the border. As distateful as it seems, we will have to neutralize whatever control systems the T'Kith'Kin and the Hyrdans are using if we ever want to leave here."

"It may be that your runabout team may be able to figure out how to disable them." Commander Jaxom observed. "Thier control system is likely to be rather guarded, and I don't relish the idea of another fight."

Poortant knew that what Jaxom was not mentioning was that his own wife had been among those injured in the orbital ambush staged by the Hyrdans and T'Kith'Kin, and rumor around the ship was that though Taalis was alive, she would not be awakening any time soon. It was a sobering thought, but the Commander seemed to be bearing up as well as he could be expected to.

["That's what I'm hoping. In the meantime, we do have thier ion trail to follow, as well as the fact that there only seems to be one path that's isn't a dead zone."] M'Kantu replied. ["It's almost as though they want us to follow."]

"I don't doubt that they do, Captain." Brex replied, a strangely sad look on his face. "I'd recommend sending our Hazard team ahead, along with a handful of Starfighters for escort. It may be that they can slip ahead more easily, and we can plan more from there."

["I agree, Commander."] the dark-skinned Captain replied with a sage nod. ["I'll transport over my Hazard Team as well. A sabotage mission will likely work much better than a full assault."]

"Understood, Captain. I'll have our team prepared and - "

The First Officer of the Miranda never finished that statement. A peculiar whine was heard coming from the deck below where he was standing next to the ops console. Poortant found it hard to describe what had happened next - there was a flash, and both the Commander and Lieutenant Commander Narim'Malyki sailed from thier previous positions, hitting the deck with a sickening sound.

Jaxom was the first to reply as Poortant saw Commander Jordan, the Captain's wife, and Commander O'Grady, the Assistant Chief of Security rush to the two fallen officers. Poortant heard the call for an emergency transport, and both fallen officers were whisked away to sickbay.

Several tense minutes passed on the bridge as Commander Jaxom had Poortant assist him in locking down the power surge that had overloaded below the Ops station. Once that was done, Poortant could hear the Trill ending the communication with Captain M'Kantu, promising to provide him an update as soon as there was some sort of news on Commander Brex.

And then they waited, for what seemed an interminable amount of time, as Medical officers belowdecks tried to save the lives of two of Miranda's senior crew members.

Finally, the call came. ["Sickbay to Bridge.] was the haggard voice of Commander Felicia Khatroweena, affectionately known simply as 'Cat' by most of the crew.

"Jaxom here." came the Trill's reply, and edge in his voice that Crewman Poortant couldn't ever recall hearing before. "How are they, Cat?"

["Gwyin will be fine, Jaal."] the Doctor replied. ["She'll be out of it for a few days, but she should recover fully."]

"And Brex?"

["I've done all I can.] the Doctor replied hollowly. ["There was severe neurological damage. I've repaired it, but he's not showing any signs of coming around. He may waken in an hour, a week - or never. I simply have no way to tell."]

Poortant saw Commander Jordan raise a hand to her mouth, a saddened look in her eyes. Rumor was the intelligence officer had been becoming good friends with the Exec, and the Crewman felt his heart go out to her.

"I understand. Keep me appraised, Doctor." Jaxom replied, the edge of steel stil there.

A silent moment passed, and Jaal looked to Commander Jack Dawson, who'd led an Engineering team to finish the repairs Jaxom and Poortant had started. "Mister Dawson, after your repairs are complete, please assupe the ops post."

"Aye, sir." Dawson nodded quickly, understandign why Jaal would not be serving at that position himself.

The Trill spoke one more time, addressing the ship's computer. ["Computer, please record status of Commander Brex as incapacitated, and note that I have assumed command of this vessel, as of 13:40 hours of this stardate. Yeoman, note that in the ship's log."

And Jaxom took the center seat. For the time being at least, the Starship Miranda, and all sicteen hundred lives aboard her - were under his command.

Reporting For Duty
Commander Gail Dawson
Chief of Flight Control

The Babies were fine. She knew. It was coming on 01000 and her first shift as a chief again. She entered the turbolift filled with anticipation. She also heard of a power flux on the bridge. The kind of thing Jack would have to repair. It was their jobs and they both put their lives on the line. But she lost him once, she could not bear to loose him again.

Just as the turbolift opened Gail tugged down her shirt. Her little ode to Murdock, who got it from Picard. The doors opened and she walked through. She saw Jack at the Ops console and tripped and fell.

Not one of those tiny trips that no one sees, but the really big ones with arms and legs flailing all over the place. The kind that can be construed as a persons MOST embarrassing moment. The kind that all the people on the bridge turn, and laugh at (silently of course) when they find out the idiot who tripped was ok.

Jaxom was the first to arrive. Realizing, he knew, that chair WAS only temporary.

"Commander" he said urgently as he tried to asses if there was any bruising "Are you all right?" He grabbed her arm and helped up from the floor. As she raised her head she had a black eye. "OOHH. THATS gonna smart."

Gail just sunk her head. First day on the job, and she makes an ass of herself. "No, sir, I think my ego is gonna smart a little more than my eye." She could FEEL it getting black and blue. "But im all right sir."

Jaxom was not as convinced as she was. "Commander I think you should get that looked.."

"NO" She said VERY forcefully. As she realized, AGAIN that EVERYONE was looking at her, but none more smugly than Jack. She added "sir..im all right."

Jaxom relented and let her go. Gail's hair was a bit askew so she tried to fix it as she was walking to the Helm. Portent was very nice to chime in "Commander, I think you hair is a little.."

And she barked at him, basically because she could "Dont you have a lightbulb to fix cadet?"

"Um Ma'am its uh Crewman.."

And she stopped and looked him dead in the eye. "If you so much as breath in my direction before you leave the bridge, I will have you demoted and scraping the fungus off the feet of the men at Starfleet home for the aged. Do I make myself clear?"

All he could do was nod before he ran off the bridge. She hoped he was so scared he wet his pants.

Gail wandered over to her console and sat. She pulled the console to her while looking at Jack who, was, probably, laughing so hard he would loose some of his bladder control.

She knew her husband "I swear to you Jack. If I hear one word..."

And Jack honestly lost it for a second. Jaxom looked over. He knew they would get it together.

"Jack, I swear..." She said still staring at him.

"No, my beloved. Im not laughing because you took a slight spill." And he just could not contain himself any longer.

Now she was pissed "Well, then what the hell are you laughing at."

"Well" he said gasping for breath "You just scared off the only person on the ship that could replace the bulb in your console that doesn't work." And he started to cry he was laughing so hard and not trying to get in troubble.

Gail looked down, and sure enough, her consol was working fine. She could HEAR it, but the lightbulb was out. All she could do was drop her head on the console and bang it a few times. Yeah. That eye was gonna smart all right. Then she could feel the ship starting to tilt to the side. Damn lightbulb she thought as Jack too Helm controll on his console and fixed the problem.

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