"Impromptu Interview"

Tyrone Miller,
Civilian Reporter,
Federation News Service,
Attached to USS Galaxy

Ensign John Ramirez Jr,
Junior Flight Controller,
USS Miranda

Miller had left the shelter, not finding it sensible to remain in there whilst Bregman was making his own news footage. The Galaxy had suffered, but in a way he was glad, it would build his story into something that would sell newspapers back on Earth, and anywhere else in the Federation. That was what he was tasked with doing, it was his job.

Ramirez had been beamed back to the Galaxy from the Breen ship. In it self not a dumb idea, beaming the entire team off it at once made sense with the turn in the tides of the Breen Government. Military Coup's were something that could be found throughout history, something which he himself had never had much of a fascination for. Walking through the Galaxy's corridors, trying to lend a hand in anyway he could before the Miranda personnel were beamed back to there own ship, he found that it wasn't much different from one he'd been on with his parents when he was a kid. Turning a corner in the corridor, he bumped into someone rather unexpected.

Miller, fell back a little as he collided with the younger, slightly taller man. "I'm sorry kiddo, I should really watch where I'm going."

"No, I'm sorry sir," Ramirez replied. He didn't really need to call this man sir, but just about everyone he served with he was required to call sir, this was just a habit to him now. "I don't know my way around here, I'm trying to lend a hand until they beam us back."

"Ah," Miller replied, he waived the fact that the Ensign had called him sir, this was an opportunity to get some information. "So your from the Miranda uh. I'm guessin' that you were on the Breen ship with the diplomatic team." Miller activated the recorder on his dictaphone, but kept it out of sight. This could be the chance to get some first hand stuff, something better than what Bregman was getting. 'I'm gonna beat him on this', Miller thought.

"Thats right," Ramirez said, as he continued walking. "Although I would hardly call it diplomatic, they had us kept off limits in practically all areas of their ship, and didn't give us much insights into what they were doing. If anything, that was exactly what they wanted. The less we knew the better."

"Uh-Uh," Miller said, he walked with the Ensign. Hopefully he'd be able to get the young man into revealing something a little more than what he;d already been able to find out through the grapevine. "So, what did it look like over their. Did you manage to get a good feel for the Breen, how they looked, how they operated. How they communicated with each other, and others around them."

"Not really, the Breen seemed cold, in any sense of the word. They seemed more concerned that we were the invading party whilst we were here, rather than an invited potential ally. If you ask me, there one of the coldest, unemotional races I've ever come across." Ramirez had no idea that the guy he was talking to was recording every word he was saying, he didn't even know who he was. He actually thought he was with some Starfleet Agency that he was unfamiliar with or soemthing like that.

"What about the ways they communicated? Could you tell what they used to talk to each other." Miller pressed the kid for information, he wanted as much as he could get. Facts for his story could be just as good as the feelings that he could get the crew and civlian population to talk about.

"It was strange, just a series of clicks and mettalic sounds. It sounded like something from an old Science Fiction Movie or something. I didn't really get to talk with any of them, they weren't really interested in the lowly flight controller."

'A Flight Controller', Miller thought, 'Even better.' Miller knew what it was like as a Junior Flight Officer, he'd been one for the duration of his Starfleet Career. "What about the ship itself, is there anything that could tell me about the ship?"

Now starting to get a little suspicious, Ramirez stopped. "I have to ask, what are you doing. Whats with all the Questions about the Breen. Are you with Starfleet Intelligence or something?"

"Not at all." Miller replied. He held out his hand, offering it to shake with the young man, "Tyrone Miller. Federation News Service."

'Federation News Service', John thought. 'Well, that explains the questions'. "Ensign John Ramirez" he replied, shaking the outstretched hand. "USS Miranda."

"I'm covering this Breen story, and it's turning out to be quite fascinating. Right now, your the only Starfleet Officer that I have had the chance to talk to about this, and I'd like to get as much information as possible." He didn't want to reveal his new found motivation behind the drive to get that information, but the kid deserved to know his reasons for giving him the 3rd degree.

"Then I'll tell you all I can." Ramirez replied.

"So, about the ship?" Miller asked again.

"Well, the Breen ship was..." Ramirez began as they walked down the corridor.

More for the Story.

“Contact.”

Senator Ramir Omar’s quarters were decorated just like his other residences. His senatorial apartment, his suite at the Omar family home, or his quarters onboard the Galaxy: all were decorated identically.

The emphasis was on luxury: fine paintings, plush couches, beautiful silverware were just examples of how he lived.

However – as luxuriously as he lived – he did not live happily. His father was using him as a pawn for political reasons – conspiring with that veruul of a Tal Shiar officer. Even his own bodyguards – usually the first to admire a beautiful woman – had grown to despise her.

As the vicious Breen attacked the ship, his quarters remained as tranquil as ever. Energy shields – separate from the Galaxy and therefore viciously opposed by Lieutenant Commander Corgan – had protected his living area from the attack.

Now, as his bodyguards anxiously guarded the doors, he listened to musical compositions – straight from the finest music houses on Romulus – in order to cover out the sounds of weapons fire in the corridors. The music was at maximum volume, and yet he could still hear faint discharges.

Ah, well: better than being the target of those discharges he thought to himself with a smug expression.

Sub-Centurion Tekri hadn’t reported in yet as order. Let her face the Breen Omar chuckled.

Suddenly there was a beeping sound at the communications console. One of Omar’s bodyguards walked over and activated the screen.

The senator nearly leaped back in shock at the sight of his father.

“Jolan’tru my son,” The colonel warmly said.

“It is good to see you father,” The younger Omar said hesitantly. “But we are presently under attack from the Breen so-”

“Yes, that is what I am here to talk about,” The colonel smoothly interrupted. “We will not be monitored while there is an attack going on.”

“What? Our last transmission was monitored… you said-”

“You can’t be too careful can you?” Riov Omar interrupted yet again. “I must talk to Tekri, urgently.”

So much for being worried about his only son during an attack Omar thought bitterly.

“She’s not here,” He said sourly and waved at his bodyguard to shut off the console.

“Wait-” The transmission abruptly ended.

While the senator considered his father’s lack of concern, he also entertained the possibility of misjudging Savar. They had an uneasy alliance, with Savar witnessing his attempts at Vulcan meditation, but that alliance had held. Savar could have ended it by informing the Romulan authorities. They might not have fully believed him – but the senator would certainly have been investigated.

Yet Savar hadn’t.

Why? As Omar contemplated this question, he found himself ignoring the weapon discharges far better than with the music at full loudness.

"The Hunt" (Part Two)

Principle Characters:

Lt. Commander Arel Smith
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff

****

Breen Diplomatic Services
Building Sub-Level 1

"If we talk, you die," Not-Victor said in that same cold, frozen voice that sent shivers through her. Death was, if nothing else, certain about the things that fell within His province. "They'll be coming."

Arel narrowed her eyes at him. "So let them come."

"Then the child dies," he told her. "Or worse. Decide now."

She set her jaw but nodded. "Let's go."

He nodded once, reached out, and plucked the combadge from her jacket as he turned to leave. "Follow me if you want the child to live." He frowned at it for two paces, and then smashed it against the wall. "They were following this - you should have discarded it."

"I wanted to lead them away from you." Arel said and then frowned at his expression. "I snuck as best I could, Krieghoff. Kahless' sake, don't get your jockies in a twist."

He didn't look back as he replied in that same, cold voice, "I can't - I don't wear them."

"Why thank you for that lovely visual, Lieutenant." Arel snapped.

"They'll evacuate the atmosphere next," he said, ignoring her comment. "Try and kill you that way."

Arel sighed and then shook her head. "I guess I've got carried away. I've been pretty pent up lately, you know?"

"No, I don't," Victor responded. "I'm never repressed - it would be bad for everyone around me." He turned a corner, waited for her to follow, and then closed and manually locked down the door. "You're injured, Commander," he pointed out. "You might want to see to that - they'll be trying to follow the blood trail if they realize the atmospheric purge doesn't work."

"What about you?" She asked before she winced at the sting in her cheek.

"They're not looking for me, Commander, I'm already dead - they saw me go out the window into the native atmosphere. Nothing human can survive that."

"Don't be overly dramatic. You obviously did? How'd you do it?"

Victor answered without slowing down. "No one scans for old technology, Commander - especially aliens that never knew humans existed at the time it was being used. I got the plans for one of the old Life Support Field belts from back when Kirk was still on his first 5-year voyage, went to an engineer I know, and they built me one. I told the Breen it was a religious item that generated a field that protected me from sin when I felt threatened. They laughed." He shrugged. "It worked exactly as designed - I just didn't plan on the fall and the injuries I received in it."

"Injuries?" Arel frowned. Krieghoff - or whatever he was - hadn't looked injured a few minutes before.

"Five cracked ribs, bruising, nothing serious there. But I think I took some internal injuries as well - nothing disabling yet, but if I have to fight again I'm not going to be at 100 percent."

Arel glared at him and then reached over to examine the injury despite his growls and the effect on her. It was bad but nothing that couldn't be delt with for the moment. "I don't have anything I can give you for that. I had to give up my mini-hypo to store my knife."

"I've got something for the pain that will also stop any internal bleeding-I just haven't taken it."

"Well then take it." She ordered.

"I'd rather not."

"Why?" Arel asked as they quietly rounded a corner.

"It's tIq tlhup <Heart Whisper> - a Klingon issue painkiller, anticoagulant,and combat drug. I was prescribed it by a Klingon doctor on lanJep after a fight, but there are... side effects."

"The Heart Whisper doesn't usually affect most Terrans in negative ways." Arel commented.

He turned and looked at her, voice less frozen but still devoid of emotional context. "My higher brain functions are... disconnected... when I take it, Commander. I'm a creature of instinct, not reason then. The last time I took it, I almost beat to death someone that was trying to help me when she objected to the first thing my instincts came up with. Do you really want that kind of problem?"

"No, Lieutenant." She said. "I'd like to stay on your better side."

"That *was* my good side, Commander - but I don't think either of us needs the problems I'll have if I take it. I only brought it because there was the chance that I would be injured severely enough that I couldn't protect the others without it."

She ignored that and pointed to a conduit. "That's probably our best bet to wait it out for a bit."

Victor studied it for a moment. "We can seal it to prevent the atmosphere from leaking out, and they're not likely to check it, since I'm going to have to cut it to open it and they *know* we don't have any energy weapons."

He made the statement a lie by producing a Type 1 phaser of a style that hadn't been seen in over a century and doing so. "Inside, they'll be coming soon."

It took only a minute to situate both of them in the cramped conduit and reseal it, Victor's welds as fine as those that had installed the door in the first place. Less than a minute later, the roar of evacuating atmosphere sounded, followed by the faint 'clink' of mag-clamp booted feet as the Breen swept the area.

"You know," Arel said after the Breen had passed. "My friend made a holoprogram with you in it."

"Your friend?" Victor frowned. "Widdlestein?"

"Yeah," The security chief said. "I'm surprised you allowed it."

"I didn't know she'd done it. I should have known better when she agreed to leave the restricted area quietly in exchange for an interview."

Arel smirked a little. That was her Sam. "Did you complete your task?"

"As much as I could. I wasn't counting on having to come in from the exterior. I think the Breen will be surprised when we want them to be, though."

She nodded her head and decided to check her weapons while they waited. Her stomach growled slightly and she frowned down at it. "Breen food is shit."

"They have super-cooled antifreeze for blood and breath something that belongs in a refrigeration coil, what did you expect?"

Arel gave him a look and then tore a bit of her sleeve off to wipe away at some of the blood she had from cuts on her arms. Then she took off her boot.

"Something wrong with your foot?" Victor frowned. If so he was going to have to stun her and go it alone - he couldn't risk the other lives in his care over a limp.

"I modified it, usually for a lockpick or a small weapon." Arel said, removing a tiny panel in the side of the heel. "I was in this old fashioned cell once. Thought I'd prepare better next time." Only this time she hadn't stored weapons.This time there was only a miniscule sparkly case which revealed two yellow pills.

Victor looked at them for a moment. "Interesting microgrenade design, how powerful is the explosion?"

Arel grimaced.

"Or are they a toxin of some sort?"

"Multi-purpose vitamins." She finally attmitted, annoyed that she should have to show any kind of weakness in front of the man.

"Ah. Have you had one today?"

"Yeah, but I'm feeling a bit... sluggish."

"Then take it Commander. The child will need the nutrients with all the ones you've sweated and burned off fighting today."

"Thanks, Doc." Arel said dryly and then popped one in her mouth. She replaced the other in her shoe and then pulled the boot back on. "Got a plan?"

Victor regarded her for a moment, and then nodded. "I use the Breen's automatic recall transport device to beam them all out of the embassy. We kill anyone that doesn't have one. Thomas will have a runabout or long-range shuttle here as ambassador; we use that to evacuate the others off-planet. There's enough debris in orbit to hide there if we have to."

"Works for me." She shrugged. "We should get moving anyway."

He studied her a moment more. "Yes." as he began to cut the hatch away, he observed," If there's no atmosphere on the other side I'll re-weld it and we go up the conduit. If there is, then all I need to know is this: can you read Breen?"

"N..no." Arel stuttered, confused by the question. "Is that going to be a hitch in the plan?"

"No." He paused to let the whistle of air tell him the story of which way they were going to transit to the upper levels. "I audited a remote learning course on the Breen language on the way here - I should recall enough to get by. That means that you can't handle the transporters, so you get the sheep."

She nodded.

He paused a moment more, and then nodded. "They repressurized. Stupid of them. I'll have the door open in forty seconds. You go first, make certain the coast is clear while I reweld the hatch so they don't know where we hid. After that..." He smiled, and Death was there behind the mask that was Victor's face again, the sense of his presence pushing at her in the confines of the conduit. "After that, we remind them why they should be afraid of the dark."

Arel shook her head. "Remind me to stay on whatever good side you do have, Krieghoff." She went through the hatch and looked up and down the corridor to make sure no one was coming. "Clear."

Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder
Chief Engineer

Lieutenant jg Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer

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

The main doors to Engineering slid open. Ethan, along with Tom strolled into Engineering, both whistling the same tune. The song they were whistling was an old Betazoid song, not that it was of any importance.

They both had an engineering kit slung over their shoulders, if they had both been human, it could have been said they looked like dwarf’s whistling, ‘I ho, I ho’… But not these fellows, not at all!

Dhani glanced up at the whistling duo from the Master Systems Display console and smiled, at least someone was happy!

Strolling up to the Master Systems Display console, Ethan dropped his kit on to it and picked up a couple of data pads, still whistling the tune. Tom in turn continued whistling, joining in at the chorus where they both turned and pointed at each other with a finger and a wink. It had taken them quite some time to become intone with each other on this particular song, clearly their duties fixing the fracture of one of the injectors as ordered by Lieutenant Eshe had been rather dull.

After a few seconds, they finished the song. Tom smiled as he went about his work. Ethan looked up from the data padds at Dhani. “So Chief, what’s next?” he asked with raised eyebrows as he leaned over the display console on his knuckles.

Dhani returned him a curious glance in answer.

“You wanted the fracture repaired, and so it has been done. What’s next?” he asked.

She frowned at him trying to work out what he was talking about.

“Bring the Warp engines back on line.” She replied slowly as if it was the most stupidest question. A small smile danced on her lips as she realised what he was referring too. ~ Ahh it was Ethan she was talking to earlier. How embarrassing! ~

She shook her head slightly and let out a chuckle,

“Do I really have to tell you every little thing? Did you not attend the academy? I feel like I’m working with a bunch of retarded school children!” She flapped her hands, over gesturing purposely, and stood up. Sighing she turned away from him and strolled over the replictor,

“Coffee, black double sweet and another coffee, black. And a warm lemon with honey tea.”

Taking all three drinks back to the display she handed them out, black coffee to Jason and the other coffee to Suder. Sitting back down she took a long sip of her tea and grinned at the both of them.

“You heard the lady, Tom.” Ethan said with a nudge. “Bring the engines back online.”

Tom smiled and gave a nod in return as he activated the engines.

Ethan turned back to Dhani. “Ok, I’m temporarily making you Chief of Engineering. What’s the next course of action?” he asked sipping his hot coffee before folding his arms.

Another frown crossed Dhanis face as she tried to work out what game Suder was playing. She thought for a moment as she drank her tea.

“Firstly I would bring your attention to the fact that we have an assistant Chief.” She paused, “Then I would tell you both to get some rest as it’s been a long day….. but knowing the both of you, neither of you would actually do that. You would both work till you dropped. So I’d say we need to do some serious work on the shields. The engines on line, Sick bay have all they need for the moment, emergency teams are working to repair the structural damage on the ship and most key systems are back on line or are at minimal power.” She regarded him for a moment and then added, “I would also ask for an update to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.”

Ethan leaned closer to Tom. “Get working on that update.” He glanced back at Dhani. “I’ll head to Deflector Control, see what I can do to tidy the place up and see what we can do to the shields from there. And I’ll let the Assistant Chief know you’re in charge for now.” He said with a half smile.

“I don’t think she will appreciate that.” Dhani commented.

Ethan stopped in his tracks and turned back to the Master Display Console. “If she wants to argue, let her. Until I say otherwise, you’re the Chief, got it, ma’am?” he said with a smile.

Dhani tilted her head to one side as she stared out across the display panel. Frowning, her lips pursed she asked,

“Why?”

Ethan returned the frown. “Look, consider it an order if you haven’t figured out already. This,” he said gesturing with his hands over Engineering, “is yours, that office,” again he pointed at the office, “is yours. What you do with the time that you have is up to you. But you’re going to have a lot of people looking up to you for answers. Let’s see how well you deal with everything that is about to come your way.”

“But Sir!” Dhani protested standing up, “I’m….” she shook her head confused and shocked, “I’m just an,” she was about to say ensign but she stopped, “just a junior grade lieutenant!” as if that was a reason to disobey her superior officers orders. But then surly she was supposed to question his orders if she thought he was wrong. And he was wrong, wasn’t he?

Ethan once again stopped and turned, this time with a sigh. “Dhani, there are Lieutenants out there that are Chief of Engineering. Getting ahead, learning and getting experience that can’t be taught from a book, can’t be learned from watching others around you, it comes from doing it. I’m giving you a chance. See what it’s like being in the big shoes, understanding the pressure, knowing what it’s like every single day, the work load, the responsibility.” He stepped forward as he spoke, slightly gesturing with his hands. “Being an Engineer isn’t just about fixing replicators, putting out fires and being carried around the ship by an over grown boy scout, it’s about holding the ship together. More than that, it’s about knowing the ship. Being one with it. Not like a man and woman, but to understand the ship. How and why it works. Knowing what needs to be done to keep not only the walls together, but the top-snots upstairs happy too. When they want power, shields, weapons, propulsion, and we have only twenty three per cent auxiliary power left, how to use what you’ve got. To understand, accept the reasoning, adapt, improvise and overcome the situations you’ll face. You have to do it.” Resting his clenched knuckles on the console in front of Dhani again, he waited for her response.

She blinked several times, her eyes wide, staring in disbelief. Dumbfounded. Totally speechless. For the first time in her life she didn’t know what to say or how to react. Was her Chief going mad? Why did he bring up Turan, was he angry at her? Had she done something wrong? He was giving her a chance but why? Had she said or done something to make him think that she didn’t realise how much he did? She could feel herself tremble inside, like she was a naughty child, being made to do something because she didn’t appreciate the person who did all those things. But then she had worked over time, a hell of a lot of it since vanquishing Naut. For several months she lived, ate and ‘slept’ in engineering, though her sleeping was meditating due to her insomnia. True though Suder didn’t know most of that, she had made sure she kept her overworking quiet. But… still, why? She could refuse. Maybe she should refuse. She would refuse. She went to speak but all that came out was a hoarse whisper. She looked down at the console and then back up and into Suders eyes deeply, searching for the answer to her question.

Ethan remained silent and just stared back into her green eyes, waiting for her response. He saw much of himself in her in a way. He remembered being her age. Being an Ensign and Lieutenant on the Galaxy. Working as much as she did. He had noticed, although he had also noticed she had tried to keep it quiet. Finally, he spoke. “I’m not going to explain right now the other reasons behind my actions. Just accept it. Understand what you have been tasked with and act accordingly. I will shortly go over the reasons to these actions.”

Dhani realised that she hadn’t blinked for about a minute; it was like a staring competition. She noticed that engineering had become silent all eyes, it appeared, were on the two of them, even Jason was holding his breath!

Without out breaking eye contact with Suder she called out,

“Jason.”

“Yeah.” He replied after a moments silence.

“That status report?” she questioned her piercing gaze still fixed on Suder.

“Yeah….” He said slowly as he approached the console, looking back and fourth between the two “chiefs”. He put a padd on the console and slid it over to Dhani. “Shields are going to need some serious work. Engines are ok. We’ve got various damage to the outer hull, quite a lot of secondary systems are down. The Deflector could use some work… the rest,” he paused still looking at Dhani and Ethan, “is… in the report.”

Dhani took the padd off the desk and finally broke eye contact with Suder. She began to skim read the report, pausing she looked back up at Suder,

“Deflector control should be cleaned up by now. Most of the consoles were off line last time I saw them, burnt out. I do believe that one survived though.” She told him.

Ethan lowered his head, as if respecting a superior officer. “I’ll get right on it.” He said. Grabbing the kit he earlier placed on the console, he turned and began heading towards the exit, a smile on his face.

“Suder.” She called out stopping him in his tracks. This was going to seem strange after the turn around, but she was still an engineer in training herself. And even though he had thrust this responsibility on her she still could help but look up to him. After all that is what he was there for.

“When I was on the bridge I got talking with Henderson about the attack. We are up against T'Kith'Kin fighters and Hydrans, and from the sound of it the Breen too. They have activated their defence perimeter with fusion mines. We are stuck here, and have to comply with their demands.” She paused wondering if he already knew that. From the gasps around her it seemed that the rest of the engineering crew didn’t.

“I had an idea about modifying the shields.” She continued, picking up a data padd of her own, that she had been working on since she left the bridge and all throughout her visit to Sick Bay, she passed it over to Suder, “I wanted your opinion.”

He took it from her and glanced over the information. “Personally, I’m not sure we have the power to perform this function.” He said honestly. He looked down at the Lieutenant and winked. “But I’ll see what I can do.” With that, he took the information with him as he left Engineering.

Dhani watched him leave and then looked around engineering and then down at the report in her hand. Shaking her head she cursed inwardly. What thee hell hade she gotten herself into?

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer

Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder
Chief of engineering.

“I’m just keeping the seat warm for ya baby!”

Dhanishta stole a few minutes out of Engineering to grab something to eat. The Mess hall was quiet, and she was quite thankful of that. It occurred to her that during a crisis she was usually away from engineering, fixing something. She had become to sympathise with Suders position.

“Club sandwich” she ordered from the replecator, “Oh no!” she exclaimed, “make it a baguette. And an icoberry juice.” Taking the long awaited items out of the replicator she crossed the room and took up a window seat.

Sitting down the knots in her shoulders loosened a little, picking up the baguette she paused to savour the smell. Her stomach growled nosily and saliva flooded her mouth. Bringing it to her lips she opened her mouth wide and sank her teeth in. Just at that moment her com. Badge chirped.

[“Suder to Eshe.”] He said plainly.

Her heart sunk. Pulling the sandwich out of her mouth she quickly licked her teeth, removing any fragments of bread, and tapped her comm. Badge,

“Eshe here” she replied unenthusiastically.

[“Meet me in Deflector control, if you’re not busy.”]

She placed the sandwich on the plate, ~so close~ she thought, ~so close~

“On my way.” She replied. She stood up slowly, pushing the chair back under the table, mourning over the lost lunch, ~Ah what the hell~ she thought. Grabbing the baguette and the juice she quickly left the Mess Hall.

Down the hall, into a turbolift out of the turbolift and into an empty deflector control, some times things became so mundane.

Ethan wiped his forehead with his sleeve, both of which were rolled up to his elbows. His face had various marks on it from the burnt materials in Deflector Control, not to mention his hands. They were just damn right dirty. He glanced over at Dhani as she entered the newly devastated room.

“Your mess I presume.” He said, waving his hands about, gesturing at the damaged walls and consoles.

“Technically….” She paused and sighed somewhat, “Yes,” she replied sarcastically, her hands flapping, lightly, at her sides, as not to spill anything, “I, single handily pulled the ceiling down, over loaded the consoles and set fire to everything!” she gave him an un-amused look.

Ethan picked up a fragment off one of the destroyed consoles and looked at it before tossing it to the ground. He then turned, frowning at Dhani. He physically bit his bottom lip in an attempt to restrain his anger.

His glare turned to his side, where he saw someone else. Nodding, as if being told something, he turned back to Dhani. “I’ve been going over the notes you gave me earlier.” He started, grabbing the padd from one of the consoles that was in some sort of working order.

She sighed again relieving her tension. Nodding she stepped forward in a responsive manner. Sometime she went too far she guessed, if he bit down any harder he would draw blood! She gave in and smiled slightly at him, a small peace offering.

He moved round to the console she was stood at and placed the padd down, activating it. “There’s a lot of modifications needed here if we were to follow this, but we had an idea.” He said, his eyes flickering up again before dropping back down to the padd.

“Go on.” she said taking a lump out of her baguette, if you can’t sit and eat then she could work and eat, she mused.

Suder glanced at the food and for a moment, realised it had been a long time since he had eaten anything. And that baguette was looking real nice. But he brushed his stomach aside and pointed at the padd.

“We’re liking the idea of using power from different sides of the shields and concentrating them on one side, thus giving us extra protection if were we to be bombarded from a particular angle. Means more work for Tactical, but I hear they don’t have enough anyway.” He paused to get some breath before continuing. “Only trouble is using this method, obviously lowers shields from the other vectors, thus leaving us a little vunerable…”

Dhani nodded along as he spoke but a frown crossed her face. Without even thinking she broke a bit off her sandwich and stuffed it into Suders mouth.

Taking a swig of her juice to wash her mouth full down she began to shake her head, “Yeah I know,” she began, “but if we create a second shield, like a second skin, then we will still have the protection from the original shielding. We could modify them and enhance them, like I was doing,” she waved her hand round the room, “before it collapsed! The only thing is,” she turned to a wall panel and attempted to activate it. It flickered for a brief moment and then died. She shrugged and turned back to Suder. Breaking the rest of the baguette in half she went to put it in Suders mouth again.

Ethan raised his hand in protest. “Wait.” He said, frowning.

“No your hands are dirty.” Dhani said pushing his hands away.

“Your hands are dirty too, what are you afraid of?”

She placed the morsel in his mouth before continuing, “I’m just afraid that we won’t have enough power to run both. And I think we should save using auxiliary power.” She waited a few moments for him to finish chewing and then passed him her drink.

“Oh, and who’s ‘we’?” she questioned taking a look around at the empty room. The thought crossed her mind that her Chief was going crazy and talking to imaginary people…. Nah!

Ethan stopped chewing and awkwardly swallowed the large chunk that didn’t go down so well in his throat. He looked around at the empty room and then back at Dhani. “I meant, myself, I came up with an idea.”

Dhanis eyes narrowed in on her senior officer. Again she scanned the room. There was no one else with them it was just her and him. A cold tingle ran along her skin, something wasn’t right. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, there was something more to this, and she didn’t know weather to call him on it or just let it go. She waited for a moment, giving him a chance to explain.

He moved away from her and stood around the other side of the console. “So,” he said turning the subject, “I’m thinking we set up extra shield generators. One’s that have their own power source. Thus if we were to get attacked from various angles and the weaker side of the shields went down, we’d have the backups that wouldn’t use any auxiliary power at all.”

Dhani nodded and looked down at the floor; so many times she had been in this situation, but on his side of the fence. She finally realised what she had put him through. She was a private person, and didn’t like to share what was going on in her life, let alone her mind. And she found it so hard to tell him, mainly because he locked her in her quarters and tried to keep her there till she fessed up! But she finally understood why. She knew that Suder was just as private as she, even more so, but this was the wrong time to have a problem…. Inwardly she laughed at herself, a mocking laugh, like there was ever a good time to have a problem!

Ethan eyes narrowed slightly. His head slowly raised and looked at Dhani. Her thoughts seemed to have centred and focused. Boy had she shown a lot of improvement. Crazy Dhani to normal Dhani. Was good to have her back.

She stood there waiting, nodding her head for him to continue. So far the idea was sounding good, but she felt like he was missing the point a little.

“So, we need to get crews working on this right away. We….” He paused and looked around again. “No, I’ll stay here and continue repairs here, why don’t you go down to Engineering and start modifications there, get four teams together to start work on the back-up generators. We’ll need two for the nacelles, one for Engineering, and one for the Bridge. I know they won’t hold much power, so they won’t add that much protection, but it might give us those extra few seconds to get out of this crappy mess. Like no one saw it coming.” He mumbled to himself as he removed another piece of junk from one of the consoles.

She crossed the room to stand in front of him. Her hand brushed his as she took the charred fragments from him and threw them aside,

“Ethan you said ‘we’.” she gazed into his eyes. She was sure that she was disobeying some Starfleet protocol by using his first name but then it seemed right. At least it would get his attention,

“You said it more than once, ‘we had an idea’, ‘we’re liking the idea’.” She quoted him. Her voice was soft, there was no judgment or implication in her statement, just compassion.

“I had a chat with Jiiles about it earlier.” Ethan lied. “As soon as I get some food in me, I’ll be right as fire!” he declared.

Dhani was not as easy as some to convince. She gave him a long look and again waited.

“Well, Lieutenant, better get on those modifications.” He ordered, straightening his uniform and turning to return to his work of repairs.

“No.” she replied simply.

Ethan sighed, frowned and turned slightly and glared at her. “What?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I said no.” she replied her voice even and cool.

Ethan shrugged. “What then?”

Dhani regarded him intently for a moment, trying to decipher what was going on. Of course she could use telepathy on him, but that was something she didn’t do out of principle.

“You made me chief of engineering, or have you forgotten?” she asked him.

“Fair enough.” He said holding his hands up defensively. “Orders then?” he said, glad the subject had changed.

“Follow me.” She said simply walking to the door.

Ethan wasted no time following the Lieutenant out of Deflector control.

She led him down the corridor and into a turbo lift, “Deck eight.” She called out.

“So,” she began turning to Suder, “just to clarify. You want to put in extra shield generators in to back up the shields when they go down.” She paused a moment, “That sounds good to me. But with regards to my suggestion of creating a second shield system?” she questioned.

“Not sure we have enough power or time to sort that out. Otherwise two layers of shielding would be standard no?” he asked as they waited for the turbolift to come to a halt.

She sighed, “You’re missing the point.” She said trying not to sound exasperated.

“The second layer would act as a buffer of sorts, deflecting the weapons discharge. Thus protecting the ship and relieving the pressure on the shields.”

Ethan thought about it for a short while and sighed. He didn’t like the idea of tampering with the ship systems to this extent. He didn’t mind the hard work, but it did mean a lot of tampering. “No problem.” He finally agreed with a sigh. “Lets do that.”

She frowned at him, “What? Don’t you think it will work?” she asked him. His sigh was a defeatist one to say the least.

“No, I think it probably will.” He replied. “We’re going to need a hell of a repair afterwards though. You realise we’re going to need a lot of power to create this ‘buffer’ of yours? But hey, I’m sure you’ll get a mention in some sort of Engineering conference, maybe bring in a whole new evolution of starship shielding.” He explained with a hint of humour.

Dhani smiled at the prospect. That would certainly boost her career, but all she cared about right now was saving the ship. It was weird, she had never cared so much about the Galaxy before. She shrugged it off. Stepping out of the turbo lift she led Suder down the corridor to his quarters. Tapping the door release she watched it slide open before ushering Suder inside,

“I don’t know what’s going on with you,” she started, “and I’m not going to pry. What I am going to do is ‘order’ you to take some R and R. You have exactly two hours. Eat, sleep, take a shower, a bath or even read a book. I don’t care. But if you leave these quarters for anything other than an emergency or request from a senior officer there will be hell to pay.” She made herself look him in the eye, “Do you understand, commander?” this was such a crazy situation, her bossing him around, talking to him like she was superior officer. If anyone else knew about this she would surely be up for a demotion.

“In the mean time I will have crews working round the clock to implement the new shield generators. And I will run simulations to see how the ship copes with the power distribution. And I will inform the Captain of our progress, unless you would rather update him when you come back, Chief?” she purposely emphasised ‘Chief’, not just because he was, but she expected him to take Engineering back upon his return.

“I’ll arrange it sure.” He said looking around his quarters. Seemed odd to be resting at such a critical time of the day, when he should be working. But then he was hungry, and that could have been seen as apriority as this point. He turned and faced Dhani. “Two hours it is.” He said, still curious about how she was coping with the authority of Chief. Of course he’d take command when he got back, but he was still testing her, and maybe him too.

Dhani nodded and turned to leave, “We will talk about all this at a later date I’m sure. I’ll arrange it in your calendar, you know while I’m tainting your office with the smell of my shampoo!” she gave him a girlish grin and then proceeded back down the corridor to the turbo lift.

“My office…. Is the way it is for a reason, move a thing and…” Ethan stopped himself and turned away. Why did it bother him, the thought of someone moving his stuff? Everything in his office had been the way it is for as long as he could remember, since he was a little Ensign. “Don’t change a thing, it’s important.” He said quietly.

“Baby, I’m just keeping the seat warm!” she shouted back as the doors to the lift closed.

Phoebe Meets the Man In Charge

by
Commander Jaal Jaxom
(First Officer/ Acting Captain)

Lieutenant (jg) Dr. Phoebe Ivers
(Science Officer)

*******

Phoebe woke up slowly. She had fallen alseep in the lab. Alright. Maybe she did need to put in shorter hours. But there was an emergency afoot. And to her that meant she should work until they carried her off to sickbay.

Or, at least until they ordered her off duty.

And she doubted Commander Mitchell would do that. Phoebe had an impression of the mean being something of a task-master. While, his officers were loyal to him, he still didn't mind pushing them a little harder than other COs of their particular department might be likely to do.

So, Phoebe didn't feel she was likely to be ordered to bed. And she worked as hard as she could on theories that unfortunately fell through. Then she returned her attention to further study, and soon found herself in a dream where she was wandering the beach of some unknown world, looking for something. And she didn't know what it was.

Only that the ocean by which the beach lay was frozen over, and yet the air felt warm on Phoebe's body. Of course she was naked. Whatever mechanism in the mind made people dream loved to undress the dreamer. She was naked on a warm beach, watching two teams of hockey players battle it out on a frozen ocean.

And somehow the sheer sence of illogic that the image rpesented itself woke her. She opened her eyes, slowly, surprised to find her head on a console in the science lab. She sat up straight, shook her head to clear it, and found herself turning in her chair, almost by reflex, as the door to the lab opened.

A tall, handsome man whom Phoebe knew, almost instantly, was a Trill entered the lab. She could see the dark tatoo-like marks on his forehead and the sides of his face that gave away his heritage. She could also see the three rank pips on his collar.

Phoebe had been trying to familiarize herself with the senior staff, by reading their Starfleet records in her spare time. Didn't hurt to know the people you work for.

In this case, Phoebe was quite sure the man who had entered the lab was Commander Jaal Jaxom. The Trill Chief of Operations. She tried to push a smile onto her face, and ended up stifling a yawn.

"Commander Jaxom ?" she said. "Welcome to the lab. I'm..." she stood, extending her hand. "Doctor Ivers."

Jaal took her hand and shook firmly, "I'm Commander Jaal Jaxom. Welcome aboard." When they finished shaking hands Jaal's smile faded a bit. Getting right to business he gave the reason for his visit. "I wish this were a social call but I need to know if any progress had been made with scans of the bio-tech mines the Breen deployed."

Phoebe crossed her arms, and looked back to the datapadds cluttering her workstation. She shook her head. "No, sir." she said. "That's why I decided to use the data we've collected to so far, to run a couple of theories of my own..."

Jaal took a look at the display where Doctor Ivers had been working. Interesting stuff, but no headway yet. "I'm sending out a science team to capture one for study and possibly reverse engineering," explained keeping his eyes on the screen. "I'm reasonably sure a way can be found around them," now he looked back at her, "it's only technology, not magic."

"I'd like to be on that team, sir." Phoebe said. "I've spent two days studying this data. I know I can be of use. Who will be commanding the mission ?"

"Lieutenant K'rn will be leading it, I'm not aware that he's chosen his entire team yet." Jaal answered.

"I reported to Cernu Kern when I first came aboard." Phoebe said. "But, what ship are you sending out. We don't know what a close pass by one of these mines could do, say, to a shuttle craft. The team might get out there and be stranded."

A slight smirk graced Jaal's lips. "That brings us to reason number one I'm having K'rn lead the team. He has a personal ship that doesn't use any type of Federation technology. It's ..." here the commander was at a loss for words. How does one describe a vessel like Vr'lu? "... his ship is some sort of bio-tech in nature and suspect may be immune to the effects of the mines."

Phoebe's eyes widened with unashamed fascination, as Jaxom told her about the ship the team would be using. "Please, Commander... maybe you could put in a word to Lieutenant Kern... I know I could be a worthy addition to the team." she was definitely anxious to climb aboard that bioship.

"He may have already added you to the team," Jaal answered. He recognized the look on her face and actually smiled a bit. "But I'll suggest taking you anyway." Normally, this is where Jaal would have gave an understanding wink but he just didn't have the joy in him at the moment.

"Thank you, sir." Phoebe said. "I would relish a chance at seeing something like that bioship."

"Now if you'll excuse me," Jaal's body language stiffened as commanding the Miranda and his comatose wife came back to the forefront in his mind, "I have other things to attend to." The Trill commander turned to leave.

Phoebe couldn't help but notice the change in his movements, and the reflection upon his mood that they made. But, she thought better of intruding. This man was one of the highest ranking officers on the ship. There was no doubt in her mind he had to be under tremendous pressures. She did have one question she could not resists asking.

"Commander... do you think... " she hesitated. "Do you think we'll be able to get our people home ?" her thought, of course, were most with the Captain, and with Shinta. One she had only met and was begining to consider a friend. The other, she was looking forward to serving. And something told her the Captain's wife, Jordan, would not do well without her husband in her life.

Jaal's brow knit together as he turned around. "So long as we get through this next encounter with the Hydrans and T'Kith'kin I'm counting on it."

Phoebe nodded, slowly, letting Jaal's words sink in. "Dangers come with the uniform, I know they always say that. But... sometimes it is hard to accept."

The Trill commander's face cast a stony look at the doctor. "Yes. I know," Jaal replied.

As the man who was now in command of the USS Miranda turned, and left the dark, and somewhat lonely science lab, he left Phoebe Ivers to contemplate his last remark. It was not his words, but how he said them that let her know there was more behind the shadow in his eyes, than just the burdens of command.

But, first, the Miranda and the Galaxy had to come out of this with their people alive and their bulkheads intact. Then Phoebe would learn more of what had happened.

For Jaal Jaxom, he returned to the burden of command that fate, and ill chance had forced upon him.

[OOC: The references to Shinta, and her friendship with Phoebe come from a jp Mieke and I are working on... it'll be posted as a backpost... mil abrazos ~ Maria 8~}]

A Letter from Cutter Kara'nin

by:
(Lt. jg) Dr. Phoebe Ivers,
Science Officer,
USS Miranda

w/ some parts copied from "A Letter to a Colleague" by Lt.Cutter Kara'nin, Chief Science Officer, USS Galaxy-A

*******

Phoebe was in her quarters, preparing for the away mission aboard the bioship when the message arrived. Her bulky bag that she would later assign a name, just out of flippant sillyness, was about half packed. And she cursed the lonliness of her quarters. She did not have a roomate. But, she would have liked to have had one.

Especially at night. It got very lonely having no one to talk to.

Which was probably why she was sure she'd find herself falling asleep on Counselor Navarre's couch, if ever she was to see the lovely Bajoran again. That was the wonderful thing about Counselors. They were always willing to listen. Even if all you wanted to make was small talk. Phoebe grew tired of scientists, at times, even though she wa sone herself.

Because all her life she had been surrounded by the lingo, and the jargon of either the field or the laboratory.

She liked having someone to talk to who just talked, from the heart. And that was Navarre Shinta in the proverbial nutshell. Phoebe's thoughts went out to her. She was down on the planet with the rest of the diplomatic team. And Phoebe only hoped that she would see her again.

It was for Shinta, and for her Captain, as much as her own curiosity that she was eager for the away mission. Her scientist's mind wanted to see this bioship up close. Her heart wanted to help her new friend, and the other members of the Galaxy and Miranda crews who were stranded at the mercy of the Breen, who were not known for their hospitality.

When she heard the familiar beeping that told her there was a message awaiting her, she scoffed. "Now what." she said aloud, perhaps adressing her duffle.

She bent over the console, hitting a control to activate the LCARS display that gave her access to her messages. There was one- from the Chief Science Officer aboard the Galaxy.

Phoebe's eyebrows went up in wonder. She hit the control to open the message. It began:

~~
Phoebe,

I recieved the program of your simulation in a last minute exchange of information before the two away teams from both the Miranda and Galaxy set off to obtain and study one of the T'Kith'Kin bio-tech subspace jamming mines.

I'm sure you know more now than when you programmed the simulation, but even then you were on the right track. The principle mistake, I would say, is that you were approaching the problem as an engineer rather than a scientist. You were trying to come up with an anti-technology without fully understanding the working basics of the technology...
~~

She slowly slid into the chair that sat infront of the console. She read on, nodding at bits of information, knitting her brow at other passages. One in particular stood out. The reference to thinking like an engineer. Because it was probably a more accurate reference than Lieutenant Kara'nin could have known. Phoebe had, indeed, aproached the last few simulations from a decidedly engineering point of view.

In a previous assignment, she had been good friends with an engineer. A half-Vulcan woman who always seemed to aproach the doing of her duty with a sort of "duct-tape-and-bailing-wire" approach to her work. The same kind of not-necessarily-by-the-book style that pilots referred to as flying by the "seat of their pants".

Phoebe had learned a great deal from her.

The letter continued:

~~
If one could figure out how to shield our ships from these outside field packets, then theoretically we could then go to warp. Most likely, this would be done by creating a null field, which would require knowledge of the configuration of the T'Kith'Kin mine fields. Theoretically, this could be calculated (by combining the power of the two now-handicapped ship computers) within a few days. However, our enemy will have taken this into account, if they have any tactical intelligence at all, and will have set the mines to constantly rotate field configurations. Net effect: we're stuck on a cloud without our wings.

This, of course, is why I recommended the formation of the away teams for the retrieval of one such mine. Hopefully, we will be able to decifer its auto-rotation programming and be able to counter it.

But, continue your work while we are away. There is a chance, small but finite, that you or others will be able to crack the problem on ship. If not, your work will have already laid the foundation for the null-field generation.
~~

A small smile crossed Phoebe's face. And she touched a trio of controls on the console's LCARS panel:

"Computer, send to USS Galaxy, Chief Science Officer Cutter Kara'nin, from Dr. Phoebe Ivers, Science Officer, USS Miranda..."

Phoebe disliked the use of rank, and only referred to herself as "Lieutenant Ivers" when it was unavoidable.

"I received you letter," she continued. "and I appreciate your input, and observations. Know that I will take your advice to heart if I am afforded the opertunity to run any more simulations. And wish me luck, sir; I'm going to be on that away mission. I look forward to comparing notes with you when both of our ships are very far from Breen. Good luck to you, and the crew of the Galaxy. Your collegue, Phoebe Ivers."

And then she spoke to the computer: "Send, and then close the communications channel."

The computer replied, giving her verbal updates in it's flat, feminine sounding voice as it performed each action.

Phoebe nodded, deactivated the terminal, and removed herself from her seat.

"Now, what do I have left to pack ?" she asked herself, standing, hands on hips and looking at her half-filled duffle.

"Something so I don't get booted for lack of posting hehehe"

Lt jg Claire Barnes,
Galaxy Security Officer/Hazard Team Member

Walking down the corridor in a fresh suit of starfleet battle armour, wearing one of the new TDU units and carrying a heavy photon rifle tended to cause the more timid of the crew to go running away shrieking. But Claire was not one of those people. Instead, she was the one inside the suit with the rifle.

Stopping outside the security phaser range, she stepped inside, finding it was deserted like she expected at the current time of day. Moving to a terminal, she logged herself in and was assigned a lane. Moving forwards, she put a power cell into the rifle before kneeling and adjusted it to the lowest setting.

"Computer, record times & accuracy then start."

Tracking different targets that appeared, Claire squeezed the trigger numerous targets, causing holo-targets to explode.

Finally after she depleted the power cell and stood.

"Computer, report."

[Working.. Latest trial run within high end of personal record at this level.]

Claire grinned, not expecting any less.

She continued training for a few hours more, pushing the computer's level higher and higher.

Heading back to the armoury, she signed the rifle back in and checked the time. She still had a fair while to kill before her next shift but she was still restless & knew she couldn't sleep like that.

Handing over the armour, she thought about what she might be able to do. Smiling, she made the decision. Entering the lift, she headed down the corridor to the holodeck, starting amartial arts dojo program.

Entering the big room, she saw it was empty. Moments later, a man in a white robe appeared and bowed to her, "Welcome to the dojo."

Claire bowed back to him, "I wanted to do some sparring."

"Okay, any particular style?"

Claire cracked her knuckles, smiling, "Nope. Just throw your best at me. Computer, set for Security training level 3 with warmup first. Track as well."

[Working. Level 3 set with recording setup.]

Over to the side, the martial arts master starting down a series of warmup exercises, as Claire completed hers. She never went into a fight if she could help it unless she was prepared.

When both had finished, they stood and bowed.

Crouching down, Claire shifted her hands up to prepare for whatever came. She held back and waited for the program to start. The master shifted quickly, and Claire blocked the series of punches that he aimed at her. She moved backwards defending and blocking each blow.

Giving it a few moments to recognise the style, she grinned before twisting, starting her own offensive against her partner.

The sparring match quickly shifted into a higher gear, with both of them using advanced moves from many different styles.

Claire continued for a fair while before the match ended.

"Computer, towel."

Catching it as it appeared, Claire wiped her face and arms down. After that intense exercise, she was definitly going to have to take a shower before her shift.

"How did I go?"

[Working.. Improvement of 0.5% detected.]

"Cool."

Bowing to the hologram, she spoke after it bowed back, "Computer, end program."

Leaving the room, she headed back to her quarters.

Pilot Tyten
Vanguard Five
USS Galaxy

"In Shadows Of The Mind"

Tyten found himself wondering why lately he enjoyed his off-duty time less and less. Sitting in his quarters, he was seated in a chair, completely wrapped up in a blanket. The sound of a warm, tropical breeze complete with exotic bird calls wafted through the air. He had experienced enough cold on the Breen ship to last him a lifetime. He knew that the cold at this point was in his head, but even the thought of it sent a chill racing down his spine. The trip itself had turned out to be...well, to be completely honest with himself, pointless. If he had really wanted to be treated like a lower lifeform and with utter contempt, he would have arranged to spend some time with Admiral Jellico back at Starfleet Command. In terms of sheer coldness of personality, that man was hands down as bad as the Breen.

Taking a sip of his hot chocolate, he brooded over the fact that he had missed the fight with the T'Kith'Kin and the Hydrans. It had been awhile since he had been behind the "stick" of his fighter. Yet, he had been told that there might be opportunity in the near future.

Sighing, he slid further down in the chair and kicked his feet up on to the foot rest in front of him. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes. He had just begun to think that maybe this off-duty time stuff wasn't all that bad when he had the sudden feeling that he was being watched. Instantly alert, he set his drink down on the nearby table and burst through his blanket cocoon.

"Who's there?" he demanded. As he expected, there was no answer to his question.

Walking over to the bedroom, he suddenly felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Turning around quickly, he again, found no one there.

Then there was laughter.

It wasn't a loud laughter. It was dark, cynical, and soft. His eyes darted every which way seeking out the source. "Computer, identify source of laughter in my quarters," he requested.

"There is no known source of laughter," came the sterile reply.

"Anyone besides me present in my quarters?"

"Negative."

It came again, only this time, much louder and if possible, darker and more cynical. "Tyten."

He whipped around again and found his results to be the same as they had been before. This was it. He was finally loosing his mind. All the dreams, all the nightmares, they had culminated to this point and he was going to loose his mind. The laughter roared in triumph.

And then it stopped.

He waited for it to return, but after several minutes, it simply did not. More confused than ever, he sank to the floor, his head in his hands. He knew what was next and wasn't happy about it. It was something that he had avoided for years now. He cringed as he spoke. "Computer, schedule an appointment for Tyten with the counseling department."

OOC - If anyone in the counseling department wants to do a JP with me, I'd love it! Tyten is having some serious issues that he needs to take care of. 

'Sparring'

Lieutenant (JG) Dylan Reed
Science Officer
USS Miranda

Ensign Jeremiah Leger
Hazard Team Member
USS Miranda

He ached. It wasn't like he'd over exerted, far from it. It was more the dull, numb ache associated with having been sat infront of a console for the last 6 hours. The turbolift doors swished open as he neared the end of the corridor, his body on autopilot as he tried to regain his poise. Dylan was drained, his scientific resourcefulness depleted for the day after another round of unsuccessful attempts to enhance the sensor range in the subspace minefield. He rubbed his eyes wearily and unzipped the top of his tunic. The holodeck.

'Computer, take me to a holodeck.' He almost sighed, commanding the turbolift.

A chirp of acknowledgment whisked the turbolift off in another direction. His father had always said the best way to solve a conundrum or puzzle of the mind was to take it as far away from the problem as possible. The solution would then make itself apparent. Right now, he needed a foil.

Leger, in the mean time, had completed his Phaser Rifle target practice and had moved on to Bat'leth exercises. He didn't even notice the door opening to admit Dylan. Leger was in the middle of a Bat'leth form when he finally noticed the Lieutanent out of the corner of his eye. He stopped immidately and came to attention. "Sir." he said formally.

"Oh, my apologies, I was led to believe this was a free holodeck." He stood back from the man, waiting in the entrance arch. He needed to focus. Regain a sense of balance and control with the aid of physical exertion. He glanced at the equipment and attire of the man stood in the holodeck, a klingon blade in his hands. A forceful if not efficient method of attack, though not quite the match for the precision and delicacy of a saber or rapier.

"No problem at all sir." Leger replied. "Just killing time til either its time to go to sleep, or I'm called on duty." he explained. He looked the science officer over and figured he was a man who worked out. "Care to join me? I could use a sparring partner." he noticed the Lieutanent's hesitation and laughed. "I don't bite sir." he said.

"I don't know," he paused, considering the request and whether it would coincide with his planned relaxation, "I am not sure that our two different disciplines would be a workable match - I fence." He Concluded mentally the decision he had been pondering. He smiled shortly and said "Computer, supply me with Reed Pattern 01 Guard and Rapier." The projected images of his kit sat before him on a plain matt black bench. "I suppose it would be interesting however, to see if two such diametrically opposed styles would be a fair match for each other - My name is Dylan Reed. En guard!"

"Jeremiah Leger." he said with a grin and a nod as he dropped into stance. "Qapla'!" Leger called out as he began to circle Reed, his Bat'leth held in the classic guard position. He noticed that Reed was simply standing there, sizing him up and obviously wanting him to take the first move. Jeremiah was more than happy to oblige him. He began by stepping in and hacking toward the Lieutanent's midsection to see what he would do with the flimsy piece of metal he called a sword.

His moves were, cautious but fast. Dylan held a stance and paused, muscles tensed ready to parry. Leger swung, stepping forward onto his right foot, his weight shifted off centre. Dylan hopped back and deflected the Bat'leth with a flick of the wrist, before regaining his poise and balance in stance.

"It is a truly powerful weapon, the Bat'leth. But, there is also much to be said for the precision of a fine blade!" Dylan quipped, starting to relax.

Leger moved as fast as Reed when the subsequent counterattack came. After parrying a few thrusts and lunges, Leger spun in place letting Reed go righ by him and hooked the Science Officer's leg, causing him to go down. Leger stoof there watching impassively as Reed got up. "Again?" he asked. Reed nodded and they sqared off again. "So how was that for precision sir?" he asked with a grin.

An attack of opportunity. Where was his concentration? Maintain focus, let all the other trappings of the mind pass and maintain a determination on the task in hand. "Very good. Again." Dylan returned to the guard position, as Jeremy attacked. He stepped back, parrying the blow with ease to the side, the power of the swing wasted, taking Jeremiah momentarily off balance. He allowed Jeremiah to regain his poise, before striking again. He ducked the bat'leth stroke and lunged. His eyes did not deviate from the target, one well place strike. Focus... His blade connected in the centre of Jeremiah's chest and flexed, the plastic tip pressing against the junior officer's gym wear. "I believe that's one all?" Dylan said, stepping back, lifting his face guard momentarily.

Leger stood there befuddled. He took the plastic tip in his fingers and brought it up to eye level. "Oh you got to be kidding me..." he mumbled. "Plastic tips!?" he asked Dylan.

"Fencing is classically a sport rather than a form of self defense or attack. Points are scored for various parts of the body, and a strike with a plastic tipped foil scores the points. It's not about inflicting damage, but about the technicality and dexterity of the attack." Dylan replied, pausing.

He shrugged. "I've always been trained to fight with real weapons that can kill. But that is the Klingons for you." He dropped back into stance and then launched himself at Dylan in a flurry of attacks and feints. The fighting went fast and furious on their next round. Dodges, thrusts, blocks lunges and parries. The holodeck resonated with the sound of clanging steel on steel. Finally an opening presented itself and Leger took it. Reed was quick to compensate though and they locked blades. Leger then simply backstepped, flipped the Bat'leth once over and Reed fell once again to the deck. "cha' ghap wa'!" he said excidely. When he saw Dylan's puzzled look he chuckled. "Sorry, I drop into Klingon occasionaly when I'm sparring. "Two to one." he amended.

"Excellent attack, the bat'leth is a truly powerful weapon." Dylan pushed himself upright and dropped back into a different stance, this time gripping the foil in a pistol style grip. "Let's see how you cope with an alternating attack style." Dylan took a fast step forward, parrying a couple of fast blows. He lunged, blow deflected by the hardened steel klingon blade. His feet shifted again, always light and silent. Step, step lunge, repost. He ducked at leger swung, and sprung forward, planting the foil firmly at Leger's chest again. "I believe that's two a piece now." Dylan said, removing the face guard completely. He put his foil to his side and offered his hand to Jeremiah. "Well met."

'Geez... I gotta watch those sudden springs...' Leger mentally chastized himself. But he smiled despite it and shook Dylan's outstreched hand. "Well met yourself Lt. Reed." he said. "Ever consdier a transfer to the security division?"

Dylan chuckled. "I would not really consider myself 'military material'".

Leger laughed. "Well, what say we keep it a draw for now. I need to grab a shower and get my geared stowed in case I'm called up for duty." he explained as he placed the Bat'leth on the holographic stand and got a towel. "Qapla' Lieutanent." he said as he turned to exit the holodeck.

"And to you Ensign. Until next time."

"Reprimanded."

By
James Mitchell,
Chief Science Officer,
USS Miranda

and

Lt. (JG) Dylan Reed,
Science Officer,
USS Miranda

Upon entering the Chief Science Officer's office on Deck 20, you would think it'd be bustling with activity since the prime analysis responsibilities on the ship at this time was coordinating and amalgamating the sensory data the Miranda and Galaxy were manually tuning for.

Instead, upon looking around, all you saw was the coasting tortoise in the tank behind the overly stacked heap of propagating padds stockpiling on James Mitchell's desk.

With a shout and sweep of an arm, the pads hightailed it off his desk and all across the room in a combined assault of shurikens that skated on the air into random corners of the room.

The giant turtle burped an air bubble.

The Bajoran had stood up, his face red with blushing anger, hands gripping the furthest side of his desk with the whitest of knuckles.

"Computer, where the hell is Lieutenant Reed?"

[Please restate the question. Hell is not a location on the USS Miranda.]

"Try living in Commander Jordan's body for a day. That'll change your goram location maps." He mumbled under his breath.

"Tell me the location of Lieutenant Reed's body, because his mind obviously isn't there."

[Lieutenant Reed's medical scan initiated. Mind is currently still housed in his biological form on Holodeck 5]

If James could 'locate the mind' of the irritable voice in his offices, he'd jam a padd right square in the middle of its datachip. Only his appreciation for Jerri's lower curves from behind prevented him from damaging her precious cyberdoll.

"Not for long, Computer." He threw his jacket on from behind the chair, trampling data padds that had reproduced by fusion once again, satisfied of the crunch from beneath.

So James left to chase down his astrometrics officer who'd consequentially forgotten he was supposed to have volunteered for double shifts.

Dylan now stood in the holodeck alone, panting. The duel with Leger had indeed been interesting. He sighed and removed his face guard, his mind beginning to unwind from the tense feeling of the fight and once again wander. He dropped two fingers to his wrist to measure his pulse. An old force of habit, he chuckled - after every match at the academy. A measure of exertion.. a pulse.... A spark. His mind reeled as a thought cascaded through returning to the problem he had been trying to escape. He turned on his heel towards the exit... as Cmdr Mitchell arrived.

"Lieutenant Reed." The Bajoran had one of his arms crossed, the other extended out palm up as if expecting something to be placed it. He blocked the doorway, his bulk covering it as if he were a goalie. Except nothing was going to get past him.

"Hello there Sir," He stopped mid stride, the arrival of his department chief was unexpected. He needed to get this idea out of his head and into a simulation. If it worked, he could..his mind returned to the present situation. "How may I help you? My apologies if I ran over into a previously standing booking of the holodeck." He unfastened the white canvas jacket and replaced the rapier and guard on the matt black rest.

"Oh, no... MY apologies, Reed." The sarcasm virtually oozed off his lips. "Far be it from me to expect any members of my department to play three musketeers on the holodeck when the rest of the department is working double duty trying to save lives. Who the hell do you think you are?! Are you something special? You get a free pass from the Captain or XO? Are you a Q? Well, then... snap your fingers, boy. Make all this go away."

"My apologies, Sir." He began, unfazed by his superiors manner. "I was unaware of the amendments to the duty roster that required me to working double shifts, it shall not happen again." He paused, staring straight back at his chief. "However, I have just had an idea that may help our sensor situation. We modify the sensors and deflector to operate in unison, 'pulsing' if you will. A subspace disruption pulse coupled with a simultaneous sensor sweep would give us enhanced range, although not a continuous active scan. In effect, a subspace sonar."

"Unaware? It's only been issued to all personnel's calendars, and it is your JOB to review the duty roster each and every day, mister." The Bajoran cocked his head to peek around both sides of the officer, looking for something.

"Well, I'm surprised. No pacifier hanging off a safety hook." His hand was still extended. "Are you forgetting something?"

"I've already submitted my report, Sir. I handed the sensor readings to my team leader earlier as I finished my shift. As I have said sir, I am sorry for this confusion and it will not happen again, but my ide-"

"It's too late for apologies. Put your ideas to paper and send them to Doctor Ivers and Lieutenant K'rn. As for you..." He rolled his fingers into his palm on a snap to become a fist.

"You're to spend the next 3 shifts scrubbing and purging the waste management tanks on Deck 52. Maybe that'll make you realize being on the Miranda isn't about playing with your prick on the holodeck in an emergency situation. Report immediately. Commander Wolfson will be keeping me apprised of your progress, so no scurrying off to the sickbay to play doctor next else I decide to have you scrubbing plasma manifolds at warp. From the outside." He stepped back out of sight, to let the door slide shut.

Dylan took a step back, staggering almost as he'd been struck. What had just happened?? Not only had Mitchell flown off the handle, but he'd also more or less dismissed his idea, without thought. What kind of ship was this?? Things certainly ran differently on the Oberon, but he was here now, and Mitchell was his chief, regardless of whether he liked it. He took a deep breath, and headed out of the holodeck.

"Who is afraid of the Bigfoot?"

by
Turan Trelar,
Quentite ambassador and engineer wannabee

Turan closed the vacuum cleaner hose's vent and removed it from the vacuum wall-plug. The room was clean. Just the racks of the four destroyed deflector control panels stood there like memorials of a battle, the Galaxy was close to loose.

The dirt covered engineer wannabe rubbed the back of his nose. Tiredness seemed to take control of him. During his work in deflector control, he didn't even find the time to have a blink at the room's chronograph. Few minutes ago, the crewmen who worked with him left for shift change. A fresh group of crewman entered the room to continue the restoration of the deflectors' user interface. Probably nobody told them about their new aid. They stopped at the door, standing there open-mouthed as if they saw Bigfoot doing their work.

The giant Quentite turned around and looked at the men obviously amused.

"Booh!"

Almost simultaneously, the whole group took a step backwards.

"Oh come on . I don't bite.... " said Turan and laughed.

An elderly enlisted reacted by pulling a phaser on him. Then he tapped his commbadge. "Matthews to security. Intruder alert in deflector control. One humanoid, about 6'6" tall, wearing a kind of uniform."

=/\= Security to Matthews ... It's ok, don't shoot him, He is one of us. His name is Turan Trelar. He's a kind of student. Lieutenant Eshe sent him there to clean up. =/\=

Turan stood there and scratched his chin. Suddenly he realized what danger he had been in just seconds ago. A more hot blooded crewman probably would have used his phaser instead of calling security.

"The Hunt" (part 3)

Smith
Krieghoff

****

Victor nodded once as he slipped out of the hatch ans started to weld it shut. "Cells are above us if I have things figured out right. I'll need to transit outside the embassy to the buildings on the other side of the shuttle pad to get to the transporter controls." He stood up and nodded to her before he started down the corridor in the opposite direction that she had to go. "Good luck Commander."

****

Breen Diplomatic Services Building
Outside the Cell Block

She smiled as the Breen officer in front of her began to dissapear before her eyes. And then she got ready as she saw the ones that didn't transport. Phaser in hand, she started to fire.

****

Breen Diplomatic Services Building
Outside the Atmosphere Shield

Victor slipped from one piece of cover to another like a ghost as he made his way across the surface of the plateau. He doubted the Breen had any visual surveillance of the area in place - they hadn't done anything else sensibly - but there was no sense in taking chances. The sheep wouldn't be going home if he did, and that was all that mattered.

The dim light shed by the Life Support Field gave him enough illumination to locate the correct set of symbols identifying the door leading into the Breen security station, and he paused a moment to check the charge on his phaser - still at 73% - before deciding that he had no choice but to use it.

There would be too many of them and no time for a closer contest. He dialed the power into the lethal range, checked the settings again, and let himself smile as he keyed the door open.

Helmeted Breen heads turned as he entered, phaser firing before the door was fully open, the first aliens struck simply vanishing into incandescent gas as the old-style phaser discorporated their molecular structure.

****

Breen Diplomatic Services Building
Inside the Cell Block

The phasers were knocked out of their hands. Arel kicked out hard, using the Breen to help push herself back. She took out both knives, the Breen took out one of his own and for a minute a neat display of swinging arcs, clinking knifes, and grunts took place. And then both found the perfect moment for the last strike and tried to take it.

Arel's eyes widened.

****

Breen Diplomatic Services Building
Breen Security Station

The last of the Breen soldier's molecules blew away in the frigid draft through the door, and Victor was alone in the security station.

For the moment.

He stepped up to the nearest panel and scanned it, then the next and the next, finally locating the transport controls on the fifh try. A few adjustments, a single grim smile, and he was done. "Time to die," he said aloud as he depressed the key that started the sequence he'd programed, automatically scanning for any Breen recal transponder and beaming it and Breen it was attached to out into space on a wide enough dispersion that they ceased to be in an instant.

****

Breen Diplomatic Services Building
Inside the Cell Block

She looked down at the remaining hilt of one of her knives. "He broke my knife." Arel looked over to where the Breen had fallen, a tiny sliver of silver seen protruding out from his throat.

****

Breen Diplomatic Services Building
Breen Security Station

Victor collected a few extra Breen weapons, loaded them into a convenient container - the local equivilent of a trash can he assumed - and started back for the Diplomatic services Area at a jog.

The first flash of his Life Support Field's failing moved that into a run as the incomplete recharge started to run out. Gray's warning came back to him again, as it had during his climb back up the plateau, and he wondered how long he had before the power cell gave out completely.

Fifty feet from the door, it flashed once more, flickered, and winked out.

OOC: This takes place shortly after the two ship's reach Breen. And before Shinta's participation in the diplomatic away mission :-)

Phoebe and Shinta's Run Through the Hillcountry

by:
Counselor Navarre Shinta
Doctor (Lt., jg) Phoebe Ivers

======================================

Phoebe had been working long hours, and pulling extra shifts ever since the Miranda had left the Starbase. And no matter how much she loved her work she absolutely had to have a break. Working constantly, with little sleep and no relaxation could dull the senses. If something came across her monitor, or Commander Mitchell handed her a top-priority assignment, she wanted to be at the top of her game. She insisted upon it.

And for that reason she decided to take her next off-duty shift and actually go off duty.

Her destination was the holodeck. Sleep could wait. She needed to feel the sun, and the salty water on her body. Even if was only a holographic recreation.

About an hour had elapsed since Phoebe Ivers had become immersed in her holodeck program. Australia. Or, more precisely, the coast of Australia. The ocean. With the island continent not too far off, as least as far as it appeared on the holodeck. She was windsurfing. Her feet, strapped to a surfboard as she tried to steer the tall, wide sail into the breeze coming off the coast. She was heading inland when....

The holodeck arch appeared and the door opened.

Phoebe pulled her sail back a little too far, in reaction, and her surfboard capsized, sending her tumbling into the water.

She came up spluttering and splashing. And her dark eyes sought out the form who stood in the doorway. It was a tall, lovely Bajoran woman who looked like she was dressed for something athletic, but not for water sports.

And she seemed to be staying clear of the holographic water, as it lapped and bobbed at the threshold of the holodeck, unable to leak out into the corridor due to a lack of holoemitters.

"Computer... end program." Phoebe ordered. And the water, the Australian coastline, and the surfboard all disappeared.

Phoebe was sitting, seemingly comfortable, on the floor of the blank holodeck clad in a black bathing suit that accentuated both her figure and her lightly tanned complexion.

"Is there something I can do for you ?" she asked the Bajoran woman.

Shinta came here sure she had booked in the holodeck this afternoon for an endurance run through rough terrain. And she badly needed to let of some steam, the events of the last mission were still going through her head.

"I thought I had booked the deck today. I probably made a mistake. Carry on with your program, I will come back later." She said distracted.

Phoebe scrambled to her feet. "No-no. It's more likely my time ran over. I was just killing a few minutes really. And I hadn't reserved the time. I just borrowed the empty deck, you might say. I should be sleeping anyway; please... take the deck." she tried to straighten her bathing suit, some, as it seemed to cling uncomfortably in places. She pulled and tugged until she got the wet fabric to fit around her contours properly.

"It's okay." Shinta said again. "I could come back as well, I haven't started anything yet."

"What program were you going to run ?" Phoebe asked. "Perhaps I could join you. My body is at that delightful stage of being too tired to sleep. If we were to take a hike, or something, it might just make me able to relax. Or, we could try the water together, What do you think ?"

She had a deep voice, and a British accent that reminded Shinta of her husband. The same sort of cultured upbringing was in Phoebe's voice.

Phoebe shook the water from her long hair. "I'm Dr. Ivers, by the way- science department." she extended her hand to Shinta, and gave her a smile.

"Navarre Shinta, I'm in counselling." She introduced herself. "I was going to do some running. To be honest I'm still a bit afraid of water despite my husband's best efforts. Are you British?"

"Yes, indeed." Phoebe replied. "Born and raised in a little town called Ipswich. Well... I guess I wasn't *raised* there. My parents had a penchant for being away from home for long periods of time. But, I am definitely a child of Mother England."

"So is my husband, that's why I recognised your accent." Shinta said.

"And you are Bajoran." Phoebe smiled. "What province, if I may ask ? I love Bajor. Such a rich culture, with such a strong history. And one of the few cultures in our scientificly driven corner of the galaxy that still has a thriving religion, which I find fascinating. Why don't we take that run, together. And we can compare notes on our cultures. Should take the edge off."

"I haven't been to bajor for long time." She deflected having to talk about her home world. "Maybe after our work out."

Phoebe took a few steps away from Shinta and ordered the computer to run "Ivers program 27-A."

A locker room like one would find in a gymnasium or spa appeared around the two women.

"I can access a replicator through this program, and have a jogging suit in no time." Phoebe said. "I need a new one, as mine is all tattered and torn from rock climbing. Shinta was it ? Give me a chance to get changed and then you can run your program."

"Fine." Shinta said. "Do you work out often?" She needed to find out if she had to set her program to an easier setting.

"Oh, anything physical, and perhaps a little dangerous is good for me." Phoebe said. "Although I know better than to turn off the safety protocols. Most good commanders frown on that until their brows are more furrowed than a Klingons." Phoebe accessed a replicator through the holodeck arch, which was cleverly concealed within the locker layout. And she soon had a brand new red and grey jogging suit.

It took her some pulling, and stretching to get out of her wet bathing suit, and then she towelled herself off before donning the new suit. It fit loosely, giving her room to move. She pulled the top down, and gave it a pull to stretch it some, and smiled. "There we go. Now... let's see what sort of workout you had in mind."

"Running the over rough terrain." Shinta said. She already decided to make this version will little bit easier. "Computer, run Navarre Hereford 3C" a mountain like landscape appeared.

Phoebe watched as Shinta's program was activated. She looked around her, as if she had suddenly been transported to the highlands of Scotland. A place Phoebe considered one of the lovliest on Earth.

"This is beautiful." she said. "You certainly know how to write a program."

"I don't do it myself, I give my friends specifications. This was taken from a place on earth, the English/Welsh border where the British commando's used to train." She explained. "We won't be doing the full run today." Shinta smiled.

"I can't think of nicer bit of country to run through." Phoebe remarked. "Shall we begin ?" her smile was cheerful, and almost motherly. Phoebe was like that. She had a kind of calm that hid her wilder side. So, most people were surprised when they saw her practicing kickboxing, or drinking with the boys, and windsurfing over a dangerous coral reef. Most people thought of her more the type to spend her time infront of a fire with a good book.

And, sometimes, she was exactly that type.

Then, others, she would get into her zone- and she craved physical activity -and a run through the rocky British countryside fit the bill just fine.

"First make sure you stretch for you begin. I don't want you pulling a muscle." Always when she was exercising Shinta acted more like the drill instructor than the therapist.

The two women began their run. Phoebe was exilirated. Her hair blew freely in the light breeze the holodeck provided, and her scientist's mind marveled at the technology. How a holodeck could create such a seemingly real environment. It was easy to get lost in it. How real it actually was.

It wasn't easy for Phoebe to keep up with Shinta. The Bajoran woman was in excellent condition. And it made a mental note in the science officers mind, that she needed to work out more. But, for the time being she managed to stay only a step or two behind Counselor Navarre.

"So..." Phoebe tried a bit of small talk. "You're a counselor. I seem to remember, on the manifest, that the ship's Chief Counselor was a Bajoran. Would I happen to have the honor of her presence ?"

"You do." Shinta said not even breathing hard. "You are in good shape for a scientist." She remarked. "How do you like the ship so far?"

"One hears a great deal about the Miranda all over Starfleet." Phoebe said. "She's a famous ship. And so far- she's definitely lived up to her reputation. It's a beautiful ship too. Admiral Murdoch certainly knew a few things about Starships, and no mistake."

"I never knew him. I came aboard just after his death." Shinta admitted. "Yet I heard a lot of good things about him."

They ran on a few more meters before Phoebe spoke again. "So, would you like another patient ?"

"Sorry?" She was taken completely aback. Not a question she usually heard. Usually she had to drag people into her office. "You mean yourself? Do you have problems?"

"Oh, I just think it would be lovely to have someone to talk to." Phoebe said. "Perhaps as a friend, as well as a patient. You seem very nice. I mean, most people would have tossed my wet little body out into the corridor for usurping their holodeck time. I thank you, for showing mercy." and here Phoebe offered a smile to accompany her jest.

"Do you just need to chat, if yes we can do it as friends. Or is there more going on?" She was paying attention now. "You didn't have your coming aboard chat yet, did you?"

Phoebe stopped running, and bent herself forward, placing her hands, fingers splayed apart, on her knees. "Actually, I haven't." she answered. "And... well... I do, from time to time, relish a little guidence. I can't imagine anyone who doesn't get troubled every now and then." she straightened herself, and stretched. "With me, it is loss. I tednt to lose people. I lose touch, or something happens to them, and there always seems to be something hanging over, if you follow me ?"

"I do. It's an issue with many people, especially those serving on starships. So it's nothing abnormal." Shinta said gently. "Who do you miss?"

"My mother, mostly." Phoebe said. "She's been gone for several years... and yet, I still miss her. I suppose I always will. And then there was that boyfriend...."

Shinta just stayed silent knowing there was more to come.

"Oh, he was a holy terror. Jealous, and a bit free with his fists." Phoebe answered. "But, T'Prala took good care of him ! She was a good friend of mine, T'Prala Marquez was her name; an engineering officer. Of course, through the shifting passions of Starfleet, where the brass tends to toss their people to the four winds every now and then; I've lost touch with her too."

"Why don't you contact her again. She is on the Arizona now if I remember correctly. I'm sure she would love hearing from you. It's not easy, yet if you are willing it is possible to keep in contact with friends on other ships."

Phoebe's eyes went wide. "You know T'Prala !?"

"Yes, she's a good friend and she was a patient of mine as well when she served on this ship." Shinta said smiling.

"Oh this really is such a small universe." Phoebe commented. "The last time I talked to T'Prala she mentioned a Bajoran. Said she was one of her best friends. And now I'm stadning here in the lovely highlands of England talking to that same person. Well- I always knew T'Prala had good taste in friends. Meaning that with all modesty of course." and she gave Shinta a wink.

"Wait until you get to know me." The bajoran grinned. "I have many patients who curse me daily."

"And they don't know the benefits they're getting, I'll wager. What say you, we finish this run, and I buy you a drink in the cantina." Phoebe offered. "Oh, and I know they don't charge money for the drinks. It just sounds better that way."

"Sounds like a good plan, and I'm going to let your work for the drink." She set the pace a little bit brisker.

Phoebe followed Shinta, who took the lead up the steep side of a hill. She let herself fall back, some, to take in the countryside. It was lovely. It reminded Phoebe of home. Or, at least what she considered her home most of the time. Growing up on the "road" with her parents, travelling from dig to dig did not give her much of a sence of "home". But the little country cottage that served as the Ivers' home when noone was travelling, working, or otherwise out in the vastness of space was what she identified, in her mind, with "home".

And these hills reminded her a lot of that country.

Shinta was in excellent condition. But, aside from a bit of sightseeing, Phoebe managed to keep up. There wasn't much time for talk as the two women took their run. It wasn't until they came to the top of a taller, steeper hill that Shinta stopped.

Phoebe came up behind. She was a bit winded. She stood, with her feet apart, and her legs held stiff. She bent herself forward, as she had done before, hands splayed over her knees.

"Well, I think you won." she commented, as she caught her breath.

"I don't see it as a contest." Shinta smiled. "And you are in extreme good condition. My compliments." She grabbed a towel. "I really hope we will be friends."

"I'd say we already are, Counselor Navarre." Phoebe replied. "Or, may I call you Shinta. It's a beautiful name, by the way."

"Thank you." She smiled. "And of course you can call me Shinta, us therapists are pretty laid-back when it comes to rank and position. I will be expecting you soon for your coming aboard chat."

"Perhaps we can work that in, with that drink." Phoebe offered. "I think one of us owes the other one some sort of libation."

Together, the two women left the holdoeck; Shinta deactivating her program on the way out. A few moments ago, they had been strangers. But, now, they were friends. Such was the way of it in Starfleet. Especially with a social butterfly like Phoebe Ivers....

"When the stress ebs away"

by
Koen as James A. Brooke,
aCMO

Brooke was walking through sickbay, stopping at every biobed to see how it's occupant was doing. Most of them were recovering nicely, while others still had a long way to go. This certainly went for the burn victims, who were kept in low gravity fields to prevent their skin from coming into contact with the biobed, or at least as little as possible. Even with sedation the pain was horrible, or so some people had told Brooke.

The next patient was sleeping, but he would be going back to his quarters soon. He would need to rest for the next week, but they needed the biobeds, and one could rest in their own quarters. Well, perhaps not Shinta. This strain of thoughts brought him back to his wife, now on the planet, a hostage. The hard work they had done had kept himself from thinking about the team on the planet, and then his wife in particular, but now most of the stress was over, and then those thoughts sneaked up on you.

He started wondering what Jaal was going to do. He had heared that they were searching for the attacker's base, because the Breen had asked. Ordered was more correct, probably. But there would be a time when they would return, and while a lot of their people on the planet were very resourcefull, they were on an hostile planet, where even the atmosphere was deadly. He didn't know the people from the Galaxy, but Shinta and the captain had been resistance fighters, and Arel, pregnant or not, was not someone to cross lightly. Of course, if you were confined to the buildings, it made searching for escaped prisoners easier.

'Stop thinking about it,' Brooke ordered himself, 'they will come home safely, or those Breen are going to pay for it.' He pushed himself not to worry anymore, and walked to the next biobed. At the moment he couldn't do anything about the situation of the hostages, but he could do something about the people here, and that had to suffice for the moment.

"The Hunt" (Part Four)

Arel Smith
Navarre Shinta
and (surprise!)

****

Breen Diplomatic Services Building
Inside the Cell Block

She felt her heart slam hard in her chest when she saw the body but shook it off.

"Sorry, we're late, Captain." Arel said solemnly.

"Sowwwwwyyyyy, weeeee'rrrreeee lllaaaaatttteeeee, Caaappptttaaaiiiinnnn..." Time had slowed to an utter crawl. He felt weightless, hovering above the floor as a bird in frozen flight, held attached to life through a tenuous thread. Voices elongated into deep baritone.

He looked around, and found he couldn't move his eyes. They were frozen in place. His body likewise felt the same. It was like... he was a cloud, or in the vortex of a spinning eddy, pulled from all directions. Was he dead? Was this eternity?

A face appeared over him, reaching down. The pregnant woman? Her mouth moved ever so slowly.

He felt the touch and everything sped up, making up for the lost time.

PAIN!

His whole body wracked with it. All he saw, felt, knew, was streaking agony burning through - all around(!) him. He was the epitome of torment. Was he screaming? It was impossible to tell through the ringing in his ears.

He dared not move for fear of more distress. His eyes darted around him. Last thing he remembered was a bright light, and darkness. He saw Breen hovering over him, and struggled to grasp its throat in a last gasp for death. They would struggle for all eternity if the gods willed it, but he would emerge the victor.

"Can you carry him, Wikkins?" Arel asked the Amish security officer. She had to tear her eyes from the dead man's form. Damn it, damn the Breen. And damn her too. She may have disliked the man but he had been under her protection.

Arel looked around. Where was Shinta?

Kylar's fingers twitched. He prayed that Bajoran counselor stayed away from him. Bad enough he had one human touch him. He didn't need any more of the dirty creatures leaving their odorous touch on him. The faint scent of cinnamon rose off him. This gave him hope, then! He shut his eyes tight, and focused on the meditation techniques of his teachers. He felt the pain circulate and merge into something modified.

At the cellular level, his atoms metamorphosed, vibrating against each other in a storm of friction. Torturous ache exploded behind his eyes as he felt the turmoil from within.

His fingers elongated slowly, darkening, splitting into caressing tendrils. Kylar remained focused, giving into the pain. His upper torso expanded like a balloon, the organs housed beneath shifting into new positions. His head grew exponentially against his body, flattening out, blackening with streaks of brown, the eyes sinking into the fleshy membrane of tough hide. His arms and legs clung to his massive torso as they combined cellular instructions on regaining a form though long lost. The feet shrank into the now thick trunks of tentacles dotted with suctioning clasps.

When the change had completed, Kylar Curran was no more; he stood over eight feet tall, shrieking in his own language in wondrous delight. The cinnamon smell had now increased itself to an aroma of decaying rot.

He was home.

Inwardly though, he still struggled against the human DNA that fought to re-assert itself like the virus it was.

Arel Smith looked up at the creature, her eyes slightly widened. "Belay that, Wikkins."

Kylar stretched out to the spaces beyond with his tentacles, cherishing the expansion. Pain still rent him from within as the insurgent human DNA fought to re-assert itself. If the Kelvan died in this form though, he would die with honor.

She frowned at the absence of her best friend. "Lend me a hand, would you Curran? I think I've missed a few Breen on my way in." And without waiting for an answer she moved towards the other cells.

****

Breen Diplomatic Services Building
Shinta's Cell

She had not screamed when the whip took most of the skin of her back, she had laughed when it raked her breasts. When they broke her nose and several of her fingers. She had even managed to keep her teeth locked together when they started pulling nails.

That's when they had tried the drugs, finally, only to find out somehow her chemistry was wrong and they didn't work either. All it did was make her puke her guts out.

Only now, when they put the hot poker inside her body did she finally scream.

Arel wrenched open the door but the Kelvan beat her to the Breen.

When the Security officer broke open the cell door housing the woman, the monstrous creature, wailing in rags, lashed out with its smaller tentacles to wrap themselves around the throats of the Breen captors, tossing them about like rag dolls.

Kylar slithered across the floor, pulling himself along with other gripping limbs that had folded underneath his standing form, giving the impression that he was being carried along a sheet of air. The stench was atrocious.

Raising the Breen that had been personally tormenting the Starfleet officer off its booted feet, he reached around with several of his primary tentacles and encased its body within them, squeezing it until a satisfying crunch was heard. The body fell to the deck, every bone, cartilage, or whatever passed for a skeleton crushed beyond all comparison.

Shinta was only half conscious so all that really registered with her was another kind of big monster.

Arel resisted the urge to plug her nose at the awful and instead helped her friend down and supported Shinta while she attempted to walk. "Let's go."

"Side Trip" pt 1

Lieutenant Cutter Kara'nin
Lieutenant Curtis Geluf
Lieutenant Corran Rex
Lieutenant Ella Grey

Lieutenant Corran Rex was had been the first to arrive. Preflight checks aboard the Runabout Belgarion were complete, and all that awaited was the arrival of the rest of the away team.

As he'd understood it when the Captain and briefed the four of them, their mission was a relatively simple one: Get close enough to a T'Kith'Kin biotech mine, and capture it without destroying. His three companions were some of the smartest people aboard the Galaxy, and Miranda would be sending a similar team to try to accomplish the same. They had two chances to find a way other than a direct assault to bring down this minefield, which would ostensibly encourage the Breen to free those hostages currently in their possession, as well as allowing the pair of vessels to return to friendlier stars.

~Don't forget not getting blown up while you manage that. It's an important part.~ came the voice of the old smuggler.

~Shut up, Vorrin.~ he thought offhandedly, and then smiled briefly as he considered how accustomed he'd become to not being a typical trill. His medications kept it from getting disorienting, but there were essentially eleven other people living in his head. Eleven different sets of thoughts, of views, of reactions to any given situation.

For a moment he wondered what a telepath would think if they were to listen in to his head, and the thought brought a smile to his face. He was thinking of that as the Runabout's hatch opened, and the rest of the team began entering.

Ella Grey smiled at Rex as she entered. She held up her finger, dug into her pockets for her computer PADD, handed it to him, and then went to access the preflight check anlysis.

*WHAT'S A NICE GUY LIKE YOU DOING IN A PLACE LIKE THIS?* The computer PADD asked Rex jokingly.

"Driving", he replied simply, smiling as he always did at Grey's chosen form of communication. "I still think that's a remarkably impractical way to talk, you know."

Ella looked up and smiled.

"Ah well. Whatever puts color in your spots." the Trill remarked, shrugging it off.

There was only a brief moment of silence after the flirtation ended before the shuttle hatch opened again and the large winged figure of the Galaxy's current head science officer entered. He looked around the small space and sighed heavily, reluctantly resigning himself to the new cage.

"Hello, Lieutenant Ka'ranin," Rex greeted.

"Kara'nin---just, uh, call me Cutter," he explained, noticably irritated.

"Ok, Cutter it is th--"

"I assume the requested sensor package was installed," Cutter asked the mute engineer, interrupting the Trill's friendly attempts and cutting straight to business.

Ella gave two thumbs up and then typed a quick message for the man to read.

The avian nodded in approval as he read Ella's response and then silently moved over to the appropriate console to run configuration tests.

"Don't take it too personally Rex, he gets that way from time to time." came the voice of Lt. Geluf, entering the shuttlepod, "I guess I'm the last one then?"

"So noted." the Trill replied, relaxing the raised eyebrow that he'd been giving the winged science officer.

Ella pointed to her imaginary watch to get the team moving. "Ready to go." She mouthed.

"I am," Cutter said, then looked at the Trill in the pilot's chair, "You understand how this is going to work, right?"

"I've got a fairly good grasp on it, yeah." the pilot responded, feeling Jalen's interest come to the fore. "Let's go over it again, though - just to be sure."

"We are currently in pursuit of the Hydrans and the T'Kith'Kin ships. It seems they may be affected by their own technology, since they are traveling along the edges of the effects of the mines, along a specific path," Cutter began to explain. Rex nodded as he remembered the information, but Cutter continued to speak, regardless, "The Galaxy is to big to do this, but you'll be intiating a high warp factor pulse and sending the shuttle forward on inertia, more or less. Hopefully, our calculations are correct and we'll drop out of subspace very near the mine, cause we can't make any corrections or control our exit point once the warp is initiated."

"Ella and I have been hashing out the warp jump calculations." Curtis added, "I guess my Warp Field Theory degree is finally paying off. Once we get it going," the Kerelian nodded to Rex, "you're piloting skill are going to be the only thing between us and a giant explosion.....not to put any un-due pressure on or anything."

"Nothing to worry about, then." Corran easily replied in a flip manner, turning back towards the front of the runabout, and pressing a comm button. "Runabout Belgarion to Shuttlebay Control, requesting departure clearance."

["Belgarion, you are clear to depart in five."] the voice of the deck chief came back.

The pilot silently ticked off the five seconds in hid mind, and then lifted the Danube-Class runabout off of the deck of Galaxy's sizable Main Shuttlebay.

****

Some time later...

From the floor where she had been thrown, Ella groaned slightly. She supposed that for her first shuttle crash (the vague memories she had of the seperate timeline where the ship crashing didnt count) she'd done marginally well. Nothing felt like it was broken; she only felt like she'd been smacked around like a ping pong ball.

~~Well, that didn't go so well.~~ She signed to Curtis

"Welcome Aboard Dave Witten! You're a Winner!"

Coffee, it was always coffee wasn't it? Amazing that such a simple drink resonated across so many species from so many different parts of the galaxy. Sure they all called it different things, prepared it different ways, added different flavorings and garnishes, but it was all still the same bean ground up, seeped, and served. The particular cup that sat in front of Dave Witten at the moment was cold. It was supposed to be, the cosmologist took his caffine cold, frapichino style, something he'd learned first on Boulder and later in the coffee houses at CSU.

"Witten?" Someone called in the small waiting area. Dave looked up to see a young Lieutenant standing in the door, a small flight bag under his arm. Ah, his ride.

"Yeah?" Dave asked, looking up from the half drank coffee.

"Lieutenant Eversman, I'm your ride to Starbase 212," The kid said. He couldn't have been more than 25. 25, and he already outranked Witten. Dave sighed inwardly. It wasn't that he minded a great deal, but being a 36 year old Ensign got to be old after a while, and he'd been in a while already.

"Hiya," Dave said, standing up and grabbing his duffel bag and briefcase. The duffel was standard issue, but the briefcase was something special. His Mother had given it to him when he'd finished his dissertation, something to take to conferences and such. It hadn't seemed like much at the time. Now it was a reminder of home.

"Hey, I know you! Dr. Witten, Intro to Quantum Mechanics!" Eversman said, pointing.

"Yeah. Seems like ages ago now," Dave said.

"Man, that was a tough course. I didn't know you were 'Fleet." Eversman said, leading Dave out of the waiting area.

"I wasn't at the time. I took the core syllabus on a dare. Now I'm the oldest Ensign in Starfleet," Dave said, a bit more cheerfully than he felt.

"Err, yeah, well, good to see you again," Eversman said. Dave couldn't blame him, no one wanted to deal with a grump, or someone with a chip on their shoulder. He wasn't usually like this, but the couple of day's layover he'd had gave him a chance to see things in perspective.

"Here she is, the finest long-range shuttle in the fleet," Eversman said, presenting the shuttle in the large open air bay. It looked like any other long-range shuttle in the fleet. In fact Dave wasn't sure that it was any different from the one he'd taken to get here from Cortez.

"Yes, I'm glad to know that good old, N-3-5-6-1-4 will be whisking me away to my new assignment. I feel as if I'm there already. Quite the reputation your fine craft has Lieutenant." Dave said, deadpan.

The younger man looked at Dave. His face was one of anger and bewilderment at the same time. Dave cracked a crooked smile. "Listen si.. Ensign," Eversman corrected himself, "We're gonna be in this shuttle together for the better part of 2 days, you think you can try to make the best of it?"

"Of course Lieutenant," Dave said, all sweet now. "Shall we?" He asked, motioning to the shuttle.

"Yeah," Eversman said, walking in. God it was going to be a long two days.

#

As promised, the preceding two days had been so utterly boring that Dave found himself pulling out research to work on. It had been years since he'd dusted off his notes on inflation. It took him most of the trip just to get back to understanding what they said. The Cortez had not been kind to him.

"Witten, David, Ensign," He said to the quartermaster once he'd gotten aboard the Miranda proper. Same bland corridors of a Starfleet vessel, same bland people. He handed his orders to the Petty Officer. The woman looked tired. She scanned the PADD with her own and looked at the readout.

"Your quarters are on Deck 14, forward. Report to the Science office in the next three days, enjoy your stay aboard the Miranda. NEXT!" She yelled at the line that had queued on the gangway. Dave grabbed his duffel and trundled off in search of his quarters. They weren't difficult to find. Starfleet vessels were all laid out in the same predictable pattern. It looked like a hotel room. At least it wasn't as run down as the Cortez had been. It didn't even have a window. He threw his duffle on the bed and sank into the one 'easy' chair that Starfleet provided.

Bing. His briefcase emitted a muffled notifier. He pulled it onto his lap and opened it. His own personal PADD blinked with a new message. He pulled it out and set the case back down. Yeah, that made sense, now that the PADD could access the LCARS network on the ship it would grab his mail.

Most of it was junk. Several from lists and magazines he subscribed to, a few from the Science department here. Ooooo interdepartmental new arrivals mixer in the.. Cantina? Great, just what he needed, another department function where everyone was expected to be happy to associate with people they got more than enough of on duty. There were a few messages from colleagues at various Universities, weren't they lucky, and one message from his sister. He tossed the PADD onto the bed with his duffel. The messages could wait.

He could explore the ship later as well. Two days of constant inane chatter with Eversman had completely fried his nerves. At the moment he had just what he needed, the wonderful near silence of solitude. He fell asleep in the chair.

"Unbreakable"

Lt. Circidon Yashanti (Tactical)
Lt. James A. Brooke (Medical) Miranda
Yashanti Yehenik (daughter of Circidon)

OOC: I used Brooke just a teeny bit Koen, if i messed up ill change it, sorry for the delay..

It would seem nothing about Circidon was ever going to be normal.

"Doctor" a nurse whispered in his ear, one of many faceless officers that had called him by that shorthand since the fighting had started. "Doctor, they need you in the tertiary operating bay on Deck 34."

"Can't some other doctor do it," Brooke asked, "I'm rather busy here, to go all the way to deck 34."

"It's Circidon, sir. Your listed as the primary care personnel for her and her daughter. I tried reassigning her but there was a security lockout and you were assigned by special preset assignment." She spoke quietly. She had been starfleet a long time, and knew when a situation called for discretion. "If you would follow me sir."

"Okay," Brooke said, "just let me get relief up here though." He arranged for another doctor to replace him in the secondary sickbay, before following down.

As she led Brooke from the main sickbay toward the emergency station on Deck 34, the woman looked furtively around. She got very close to James and finally spoke in a near whisper.

"Sir, is Circidon more than...is she different from other Xanthe? Or for that matter, is her husband different from other Vulcan's?"

"I know Circ is smaller then other Xanthe," Brooke said, "there were a couple onboard some time ago, and they only just fitted into the corridors. But other then that I don't know. As for Soth, he just a normal Vulcan. Well, physically speaking, that is," he added, thinking about the tattoos and stuff.

As they entered a turbolift, the woman looked spooked. She waited for the doors to close and looked the human doctor in the eyes. "Miranda, the child, was exposed to vacuum conditions, and temperatures only 50 degrees off absolute zero for more than five minutes, at the very least. Part of her clothing had crystalized from the conditions." She looked away now. "Sir, there is not a scratch on her."

That was surprising. He knew that Circ healed faster then everybody else he knew, due to a large amount of undifferentiated stem cells in her blood, but even she needed some time to heal. "I don't know why that could be," he said, "I was starting some research, but that hasn't started yet."

"Her mother risked her life to save her." They reached the destination deck and both medical officer dodged damaged equipmennt and engineering staff in a fast trot. "Circidon is suffering from prolonged space exposure and radiation poisoning. It would kill you or me, but I think she will pull through if we do a transfusion with new blood." They reached the small medical room and entered. The doors whisked shut behind them.

Circ was in a shallow tub, surrounded by a sticky gel. She was naked, and much of her skin was missing. Both of her eyes had been removed and glowing regeneration fields bathed her in a bluish light blanket. It was gruesome, but Brooke had actually seen Circ in worse shape.

Miranda was in a standard jumper. The two year old elfish little girl with the long pointed ears and almost canine snout looked perfectly fine. She looked up at brooke when he entered, but said nothing. A security officer stood when Brooke entered. His presence was probably for Miranda's sake

Brooke looked at the read-outs on Circ's 'biobed'. She had priority right now. "You," he said to one of the nurses, "go to primary and get some blood. There should be a small blood supply for Circ. If you don't find it, ask Cat." With that problem out of the way, he upped the level of medication that was in the tub. Right now they needed to handle the radiation poisoning, which had killed a lot of the stem cells Circ depended on. The adverse events from the medication, she would be able to handle, once her regeneration system was back operational. With that done, he had to wait until the blood came, so he turned to Miranda. "How are you feeling," he asked.

The child just chirped at him, trying to "see" his face. "Yur za doctor" she said finally. "Fix mhem."

"I will," he said, "but I need some equipment to do it, so while we're waiting, why don't I see if you're not hurt."

Brooke’s tricorder scanned, then scanned again. Finally it made a sound Brooke had only heard during first contact situations. Basicly, it didn’t know what it was scanning. It reported that if the subject was Xanthe, he should prepare for the child in front of him to burst into flames. He seemed to remember Circidon’s sister doing that a few years back. The Xanthi metabolism was prone to it if put under the right conditions. However, the tricorder stated it wasn’t entire sure the child wasn’t Vulcan. If she was Vulcan, his machine’s readings would seem to indicate she was already dead.

All the while, the tricorder told him, Miranda was in perfect health compared to previous scans. Sometimes computers just came up short.

“I feel OK” Miranda told him “Fix mhem”.

"Sometimes, you can be hurt, but don't feel any pain," Brooke said, "I promise this won't hurt." He got her on the biobed and started an in-depth scan. At that point the nurse returned with the blood. "Now we're going to make your mum better," he said to Miranda, who was on the biobed next to Circidon's, "just stay there, it might take a while." They started the transfusion, and he hoped that would jump-start Circ's own immune systems. Once they were online, there was little she had to fear.

The color almost instantly returned to the Xanthi’s face. The unique blood of her species began purging dead or injured tissue and replacing the cells with fresh ones. Circ would be fine in a day or so. And Miranda was also apparently fine.

Still, the frowns on the nurses face when they looked at the young hybrid child told Brooke he had a mystery to solve if this girl had any chance at a normal life.

"that is quite unexpected"

Counselor Llywhyn
Legate Curran
USS Galaxy

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

The rescue was a good time in coming, but Ammanalyn had never doubted it was, and as she watched the force field at the entrance of her cell disappear mere centimeters from her face, she had the sneaking suspicion that while things were only just beginning to be set in motion, all would soon be well.

She slowly stepped out of the cell, Tampatiaen tucked safely within her clothes, and looked around, having a small moment of distinct uselessness as she watched the more fearsome warriors amongst them step up to the plate, so to speak, and take their charge. Weapons were distributed and orders were given.

Including picking up the body of Kylar Curran.

But he's not-- Ammanalyn had nearly protested, when she watched the man's hands move and morph.

"That is quite unexpected," she murmured, but smiled to herself. She now knew exactly what he had meant.

---- MORE THAN SEVERAL DAYS EARLIER ----

At least he was to be mind-manipulated by the same counselor he'd been tested by previously. Last thing he needed was for his thoughts to be spread out amongst the counseling staff, no matter if he thought this Ammanalyn Lywhyn was a strange sort. He'd never known any other Daedryn in his travels in Federation circles.

Intently, he leaned into the buzzer for her offices, awaiting his gaoler.

She had been anxious for this meeting since she noticed the name on her schedule for the week. That was a couple of days ago and she'd been trying to figure out how to handle this. She couldn't hold him accountable, of course, for the issues that had risen with her seeing him in the first place, and she wasn't planning on even letting them enter her mind once he was in her office. However, it was something to keep in mind and she couldn't help but wonder how her seeing him again or, even on a regular basis, would affect her professionally.

Not to mention emotionally. She'd gone over the conversation a hundred times in her head, replaying his body language, his appearance, what people said of him before and after, his reputation, trying to keep it all in the perspective of the man she'd spoken to. It was more difficult than she'd originally thought it would be.

Not that she didn't like the challenge.

But she had to confess that Kylar wasn't the only unusual crew member on her mind recenelty; she'd been thinking a lot of her conversation with the dreaded Victor. There was something about him, but in her mind, it wasn't nearly so ominous as--

The chime interrupted her thoughts as she looked over toward the door, as though it was the door itself intruding. She then looked at the chronometer, then at Tampatiaen. "It's time," she said, "you behave."

He closed his eyes slowly and opened them in a sarcastic blink as he turned back to the large feline paw he had been licking for reasons she couldn't possibly understand. What in Dust was he licking anyway?

"Come in," she said, sitting up more professionally. "Please."

The outer offices to the Counselling center slid open with a shortened hiss. Was it his imagination that they appeared to admit him more expeditiously than any other bulkhead on the Galaxy? Casting his eyes to his peripherals, he established no witnesses to his entry to the inner sanctum of so-called sanity control. He slipped in, his heels quietly rasping on the carpet fibers as the doors just as quickly closed shut behind, severing any curiosities from noticing his entrance.

He felt an uncomfortable itch under his collar, and twisted a pale finger into it to rid himself of the distraction, shifting his neck in the process from side to side.

"I'm here for my scheduled appointment." His pitch lacked ambiguity, surrendering to the moment to provide stability in the arrogance of fear underlying him. The last thing he needed pointed out was the weakness of the human spirit in comparison to the his Kelvan superior neurostructure currently lost to him.

She smiled girlishly. "Well, welcome. It's a little more comfortable than the ready room, I think. Please, sit down, make yourself at home-- can I get you something to eat? Drink?"

Kylar remained standing, his features frozen in a prismatic notion of peculiarity and inquisition. The lithe woman's attempt at making him feel at ease he knew from his earliest training was one to set the intended off their guard as a method of obtaining information through artificial friendship.

"No, thank you. I am not here to be twisted into a Federation complacent denizen. Your drugs and feigned friendship will not 'cure' me. Get to the point so that i may continue with more pressing duties." His fingers met in an interlaced grasp at his waistline, softening his inner turmoil to manageable levels. He was not interested in playing with this girl and her stuffed animal.

"And I am not here to be your friend or verbal sparring partner," she said firmly, her large, chocolate brown eyes narrowing slightly; her words were firm and sharp, but soft just the same: non-threatening. "I don't believe in drugs, and you must sit down," she stated firmly.

"Why must I sit down? Is there a problem with my standing?" He felt the power of he words. Now he knew why he was paired with this creature instead of a male. He would never have let a male manipulate him in this manner. The session would go nowhere indeed. Perhaps this was a capitulation to him? "and if you are not to be my friend, how does one obtain a patients subconscious decision to

"Why must I sit down? Is there a problem with my standing?" He felt the power of he words. Now he knew why he was paired with this creature instead of a male. He would never have let a male manipulate him in this manner. The session would go nowhere indeed. Perhaps this was a capitulation to him? "and if you are not to be my friend, how does one obtain a patients subconscious decision to impart the most personal details of his flawed mind?"

She frowned, her forehead creasing as she cocked her head to the side. "I am here to be your impartial ear. Feel free to make me your friend, if that makes you more comfortable. But I am capable of filling the type of position the patient needs. Some need friends, others need adversaries, others need something completely impartial. And Mr. Curran, you must sit down because that's the only way I can speak to you in any kind of serious manner. It places us on equal footing. But if you refuse to sit, why is that? Does it make you feel more powerful? More dominating?"

"Many conversations and negotiations require dominance, but if it is you that requires comfort, then I shall acquiesce." Uncomfortably shifting himself onto the open sofa on opposite ends with the wispy spirit that eternally followed its owner around. What must it be to live an existence without privacy? He clasped his hands on his lap, straightening his posture. "Now let us be serious, shall we? Will we analyzing my childhood? Or possibly my relationship with my parents?" Sarcasm wet his tongue. The itch returned under his collar. 'What can you possibly do to repair my broken psyche when you have no experience whatsoever in Kelvan physiology?"

"Why does physiology have any matter in this?" she asked. "I'm a counselor. A psychologist. Not a doctor or a psychiatrist." She smiled slightly. "I care about what you're thinking. How you're dealing with it. Your feelings about it. If you need to talk about your childhood, your parents, go right on ahead, but I personally think that psychology is more about the now. What you're thinking NOW, where you're going NOW. Yesterday matters. But it's today and tomorrow that we need to look at first. Let's start with what happened."

"Kelvan physiology has everything to do with it, counselor. Are you not aware of who and what we really are and how we come to be in humanoid form? Has that not crossed your simple mind?" He sighed, agonizing over the blank, but patient look she was giving him. The creature shifted the few feet away it was from him. he felt closed in all of a sudden.

"Then I shall start you off with a lesson in how we have come to be here in this form, counselor. Perhaps it will assist you in ascertaining my issues." He bore ice blue holes into her own dark doe eyes.

"We are not born into this infernal form. We are far different than you see here. Our actual form does not matter here, let it be known it is nothing like this shell I am trapped in. Our natural forms are not easy to bear witness upon, nor is it possible to remain in our presence too long. our communication methods are such a level no humanoid can comprehend. In accomplishing the tasks of acclimating ourselves to other species to facilitate relations in establishing government over them, we developed the ability to take whatever form we wish to best relate to the species we are inviting into our consortium. The process itself is difficult to undergo, and virtually irreversible." He neglected to mention the original reason the genetic mutation was introduced was to infiltrate key positions in government and defense committees to allow more efficient annexing. "Prolonged exposure in the form of choice comes with the unfortunate marrying of Kelvan DNA with their new form. Humanoid physiology is immensely different from Kelvan. It is a heated battle for retainment of who we are constantly." The itch had progressed down the front of his chest. "Feel honored I am divulging this information to you, counselor. Dallas would not have gotten this far."

---- MEANWHILE, BACK ON BREEN ---

She watched the transformation wordlessly from there as they continued through the room, collecting the other warriors as they did so. Ammanalyn had understood his words that day, but she had not comprehended their meaning; any understanding was on the basis of feeling rather than knowledge.

Some of the crew was more injured than others from the beatings they took during interrogation; it was hard for her to really keep track of what was going on, she couldn't seem to stay in one place. There were flashes everywhere: flashes of memory, flashes of secrets, whispers from those around her, Tampatiaen's voice in her head, it was becoming distracting. Focus on something.

She watched the last tendril of Kylar Curran's True Form disappear on their way to find Shinta, the Bajoran Counselor she hadn't exchanged a word with. Concentrate on Kylar. It was freshest in her mind.

"that is quite unexpected" part 2

Counselor Llywhyn
Legate Curran
USS Galaxy

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

---- MORE THAN SEVERAL DAYS EARLIER, USS GALAXY ----

"Feel honored I am divulging this information to you, counselor. Dallas would not have gotten this far."

Ammanalyn sighed inwardly as she shifted her eyes toward Tampatiaen, who flicked an ear. At least he felt the same way-- and at least he wasn't showing that. Not to any large degree anyway. The tone of his voice annoyed her, it was what the humans would call "holier than thou", and she found the sympathy she'd originally had for him disappearing into severe dislike. She had wondered if this man was really so self-absorbed as to think that he was the only one ever to suffer from having to adapt. She had an unusual feeling: she wanted to shake him, strike out against him, react sarcastically. "Oh yes," she wanted to see, "I feel so honoured that I was able to hear this woe is me piece of--" but she didn't say it. Not a word, she kept her face blank, her hands folded, her eyes focused on him.

"Life is about adaptation, Kyler," she said, evenly. "If you are having trouble coming to terms with this form, then you must express that so we can figure out some way to deal with it. If not, stop using that as an excuse for acting in the manner that you do. You have a responsibility, and it is one that you need to face: a responsibility to be honest with yourself, and to be honest with those with whom you are working. And this is whether or not you are comfortable in your shape. Many are uncomfortable: whether their shape is forced upon them or not. But life is about figuring out how to cope with the form you have.

"Oh, and the word is 'retention' or 'to retain'. Not retainment. That is not a correct conjugation." She could not help jabbing that in there. She'd spent years studying the Standard Language: every nuance, every word, syllable, phrase. She took it as part of her need to understand.

He sighed, bringing his hands back in to clasp at his knees once again. "We can argue all day on the use of the English language if you like counselor, but I've got better things to do. If you'd prefer, I can locate a 12 year old child to banter with. I came here to be serious, and you make light of my situation. Only proves that you are ignorant of the matter to repair my issues. It is reactions such as yours that only serve to alienate singular species representative crew members such as ourselves. It is probably not too far off to assume you are as isolated and outcast amongst this crew as I am."

"Legate," she said, "if you are going to play this pretentious game, then we both have better things to do and I will file my recommendation with the captain, now, based on this very brief conversation. I have nothing at all to prove to you, and as for my isolation, I chose not to give it a thought, though I do try to at least be pleasant with the other members of this crew, which is more than I can say for you. If you are going to continue to speak to me as though I am a lesser being, or a twelve year old child, I am finishing this, right here and now. Just keep in mind that I am the only one standing between you and the door because the entire command staff would jump at the chance to close it behind you, to use an elongated human metaphor." Her brown eyes narrowed. "I am not going to allow you to manipulate me; and you may be right that I understand being a singular representative of a species. But keep in mind, that can be as big a disadvantage to you as an advantage."

Kylar gritted his teeth against his lower jaw, his cheekbones pulsing with each bite. He would not let this petty child taunt him in any way. only 5 sessions were needed and it would be done either way. He just had no faith that their transcripts would be kept confidential from that she-demon Dallas.

"Then begin your interrogation, as it would seem to be nothing less."

"What has changed?" she questioned. "In you, I mean, since you first came on board the Galaxy."

"That question is quite broad, for everything has changed. Be more specific, it you will."

"We'll start with your appearance then. It is what people first notice, after all -- before, I am told, you were meticulous. Nothing was ever out of place. And now, you often appear as though you are barely holding yourself together."

Kylar wasn't sure how to address this aspect of questioning. She was a mental manipulator, not a fashion diva last he read in her personnel file. He coughed, unclasping one hand to cover his mouth. "I am 'holding myself together' quite well, counselor. I do not see how my clothing has any bearing on my thought processes." It wasn't his clothing she was addressing he knew, but it gave him hope she would move off the topic and to something he was more prepared for.

She gave him a look and smiled slightly, her long dark hair falling over her shoulders. "It has no bearing on your thought processes," she said, "but your thought processes have every bearing on it. I listen well, Legate, and people are always saying how together you always were. Down to your fingernails." She looked at his hands. "Do you know what such a shift in personal care often reveals?"

"I have no doubt you are about to tell me. I defer to your experience in these matters. Perhaps I can leave and you'll answer my questions for me?"

"How long have you had a problem with drugs, Legate?" she questioned straight, cocking her head to one side.

"Excuse me?" He sputtered, his hands tightening against each other in his lap. A cold sweat slowly enveloped him. "What nonsense is this? I've been having difficulties sleeping, that is all." Tampatiaen shifted lazily at the opposite end of the divan, making Curran jump. His eyes darted from the animal back to Ammanalyn. "Sleeping troubles. Because of your damnable Department Chief."

Ammanalyn blinked, watching him carefully, her expression passive, concealing the one word that was drifting in her head: bingo. She sat there silently, watching his body language.

The silence was deafening as the blood roared in his ears. Why wasn't she speaking to him? That small face was irritating with its placidity. As calm as the waters of his home world. He forced himself to think of the landscape of his birth, of the swimming that was so enthralling. Even in the depths of his oceans there was more than the lack of sound he was privy to now. He fell into deep memory, and his eyes glazed over.

"Karyn Dallas is a plague on the Federation." His mouth opened and words fell out, but they lacked feeling. Like rehearsed words from a play.

"Explain this to me," she said, softly, her voice far away, echoing softly, devoid of any real emotion.

"What is there to explain, Counselor? She vilifies anyone who dares cross her path. She is incapable of admitting fallacy. Her hatred of all things Kelvan tells me she either discriminates against me based on race, or she is truly held in the belief she is inferior to me. Perhaps she has a hatred of males entirely. I have yet to see her associate with any. Her utter indifference to the established methods of communication and protocols is in itself cause for alarm. I should not have to proof the situations she is involved in for it is a waste of time and resource. She believes she can 'do better'. Such patronization from her finds its way into my sleep patterns. It is a deep concern." He didn't feel it prudent to share that she terrorized him in his waking dreams. Her face framed by flaxon wisps as it leaned over his still form on the cold floor of his lavatory. His eye twitched as the image came unbidden.

She watched him, cocking her head to the other side. "Why do you think that she has a hatred of all things Kelvan? What evidence has she given you?"

"Do you think she would actually leave evidence behind? She may believe herself omnipotent, but she isn't so deluded as to err on leaving anything incriminating. Best solution I can offer is to read any records combining both her and myself. They speak for themselves. she is borderline mentally unbalanced. Bi-polar disorder or some such that weakling humanoids suffer from. How did they ever survive transition to the stars?"

"Why do you believe you can evade personal responsibility by deflecting to others?" Ammanalyn questioned. "It is a wonder that you have survived anything, if this is how you chose to function."

"It is not your place to question the survival of my species. You are not a student of intergalactic history as I have been. Representatives of the Terran race such as Karyn Dallas are like a virus. They can't help but grow, devour resources, and move on. We, as a race, conquered worlds and offered them life and riches untold. They became strong, and honored member of the Kelvan Empire. We were admired for our strength and absolution. This whimsical notion of not spreading Federation values amongst peoples who do have the capabilities is useless. I only abide by it as it is the highest law of this Federation, and we must at least, be gracious in presenting us with a new world. Yet we are smothered. We allowed our citizens to grow within our perfected system. Manipulation of minds on an order of reparation is only a word for those that wish true power when they are too weak to wield anything physical on their own. A Federation of zombies, lulled into false perceptions that their counselors will fix them, when it is counselors like Commander Dallas that plant the seeds of control in a willing patient so that she may feel powerful."

"You know nothing about me, Legate, let us leave me and what I am and am not out of this as it has no bearing. And I am not commenting on your species. I am commenting on you. As one person." She raised a finger. "It is okay to admit you are afraid. That you are hiding: from someone, from something, and most of all, from yourself. We have all had these instincts at some point. You speak too broadly, Kylar. Let's look at you and you alone, okay? When did you start becoming dependent on the sleep-aides?"

"What sleep aids? I have no idea what you are talking about. I've slept very little in the last few months." He tried to hold her gaze, but found he lacked the strength to. The large brown eyes were deceptive. Offset the diminutive frame quite well. If he were fully Terran, he might very well have been hypnotized by them.

"If they are not sleep aids, what are the drugs? Let us leave the charade, Kylar," her voice was soft and gentle, still holding the simple, girlish sound she couldn't help.

"If there were drugs, wouldn't it be more logical to use ones that assist in my sleeping patterns? Where are you leading this?"

"Where do you think I'm leading this?" Ammanalyn questioned. "Or... where do you think I should lead this? Your colleagues are concerned. Your disposition leaves much to be desired. You're prone to mood swings, particularly toward more negative emotions... If you don't believe it's the drugs you've been taking, what do you think is bothering you? So that you can't sleep. Or have problem interacting with your shipmates."

"If I knew the answer to that, Counselor, I wouldn't be here talking to you. If you sincerely must know what is bothering me, it is the immaturity of the majority of this starship to take anything seriously. Disrespect of authority, rampant sexual behaviour, foul-mouthed humanoids, and discrimination of those species that are in the minority on this posting. There is a serious lack of discipline and arrogance. The fem-bot episode with the Orions last year is a perfect example. Perhaps those are the nightmares that plague me at night."

"What was your experience during that episode?"

"I'm not prepared to discuss that at this time. How much time is remaining in this session?"

--- BACK ON BREEN ---

The sirens were loud enough to break through even the thickest fog.

"Not long enough," Ammanalyn murmured. "Not long enough..."

"that is quite unexpected" part 3

Counselor Llywhyn
Legate Curran
USS Galaxy

(with brief use of Wikkins)

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

---- MORE THAN SEVERAL DAYS EARLIER, USS GALAXY ----

"Ten minutes," Ammanalyn stated, her eyes even on the form of her patient.

"That's hardly long enough even if I wanted to share the experience with you," the Legate said. Flashes of Karyn Dallas leaning over him drove through him. He winced.

"I'm in no hurry. And it is not as though you are being billed. What are you remembering? Just now?"

"I do not trust you. Do not take it as an insult, for Kelvans trust no one. I share this with you not out of desire, but because I cannot foresee any other path that leads me out of this. My supervisors have ordered me to share my turmoils with you, but you must be aware that because of my training, it will be most difficult to do this. My issues mostly lie with Karyn Dallas, of that you can be sure, and unfortunately with you being a counselor under her supervision, you are guilty by association. Any supervisor of merit will access the records of their charges to follow their progress, so therefore what I say to you would also be accessed by her if she so desires. I have serious issues with that and cannot share personal information in that regard. She would then gain the advantage in our working relationship."

"I guard my clients very, very well, Mr. Curan," Ammanalyn said. "She will know nothing of what you say to me. I have been suspended once already protecting you, I will be again if necessary. I do not believe that Counselor Dallas is a bad person, but I assure you, there is no affection between us."

"If what you say is true, then in time, we may well come to a balance. But until then, I have a distrust of those who would manipulate minds to whatever means to an end in order to establish a sense of 'power' over another. May I ask what caused the rift between the two of you?"

"You did," Ammanalyn said.

"Please be more specific, unless it is too personal. What was it about me?"

"She wanted me to share details of our conversation in the Captain's read room that day. At least, that is how I interpreted the exchange. I refused to share information about my client. That angered her, said I was standing in the way of her duties as department chief, and relieved me of duty for a time. There was a bit more to the argument, things were said on both sides that should not have been, but that's the root of the situation."

"Thank you for sharing that with me, Counselor. I'm unsure as to its truth, but it certainly does not paint a vision of villainy towards myself that others would take to opportunity to lie about." His eye caught the chronometer on the wall. 'I believe our time is up, but I will most certainly ponder our session and return the favor of truth to you. When do you wish to schedule our next session?"

"When you are prepared," she said, glancing at Tampatiaen, who was relaxed and calm, lounging on his stool in front of the fish tank. If he had been Daedryn, he would immediately have realised the truth in her statements by Tam's reaction or, lack thereof "You may schedule it with the girl at the desk."

"Very well. Then I shall take my leave." As Curran rose to his feet devoid of the confident posture he once carried himself with - he felt a slight burden had or will be lifted - he saw the creature Lywhyn was always in the company with lift a bushy brown, a pale blue eye peering lazily at him. "I want to share with you that even though I have no love for your work, you have shown me something that no one else has on this ship. A concern for my well-being, and a willingness to understand me. This may be your job, yes, and I can certainly see how my teachers have determined how your powers of persuasion as ones to be wary of, but it is more than I have been privy to in the two years I have served on the Galaxy."

She smiled slightly. "Well, when it comes down to it, I don't think we're all too different, Legate..." A small pause. "You're welcome."

He tipped his head in acknowledgement and slipped his hands behind his back to come to a clasp. He left the room with a somewhat more confident posture in a direct line to the receptionist.

---- BACK ON BREEN ---

"The reason for so many things," Ammanalyn murmured, thinking half out loud. She had okayed his coming on the mission. She had shown him... concern, as he'd phrased it, and understanding. Perhaps that brought him to do what he had done. She rested her hand over Tampatiaen at her breast and used her other to brush away a piece of hair.

She walked from the door of her cell, one foot directly in front of the other, slowly as though a child walking along the edge of a sandbox, to the place where he had lain. Maybe that was the thing, she thought, the reason she could not turn to other subjects: she felt responsible. But was what he felt now freedom? Had she inadvertently given him freedom? That would be a good thing to feel responsible for, would it not?

"'Lieutenant!"

Arms wrapped tightly around her, she bent at her waist and peered at the ground where he'd lain, then reached with one hand and picked up the Breen weapon that Kylar had been laying upon all this time. It must have fallen there during the scuffle between them over Tam... over her well being... or perhaps he'd managed to lift it from the Breen. Interesting.

"Lieutenant!"

She extended the hand that held the blaster out from her side and pressed the trigger without a glance. With a high pitched whine the energy beam blasted into the chest of the Breen that had come through the door.

Don't look don't look don't look.

Another press and the second fell.

If you don't see them fall, did they really fall? And are you responsible?

The Dust said to do it. The Dust guided my hand...

"Let's get going! NOW Counselor!"

She looked at the person calling her name, yet another from the away team whose name she could not remember at the moment, and she obeyed, hurrying through the cell block toward where they were vacating, Cantrel and Wikkins holding them off with the weapons they'd taken from dead Breen soldiers.

"That was some kind of shooting," someone commented.

Ammanalyn didn't hear. "This way," she said, pointing. "We should go this way."

"Cold Hands, Warm Hearts"

Ensign Ry'shan Hhanna,
Medical Officer

Janeen Jaxom,
Civilian at large

***

Ry'shan was in the middle of her dinner, almost completely lost in her own thoughts when she happened to notice a young, blonde, Trill woman sitting alone at a table next to hers. The young woman was staring forlornly out the window.

Janeen was looking out the large viewports at the expanse of stars. She absent-mindedly moved some half eaten food around on her plate with a fork. Then she casually glanced around the rest of the Cantina. When she noticed a blue haired individual looking back. 'That's different,' she thought. She had seen blue skinned, but no blue hair yet. A small, not quite happy, smile crossed her face as she waved hello.

Ry'shan smiled cheerfully at her and waved back. "Hi," she said. "Alone you look. Would you like a friend? I promise...salad and strawberries is the only thing I ! will bite."

Janeen listened but wasn't sure she heard quite right. The blue-haired lady had an odd speech pattern. She did her best to not look suspicious. "Uh... sure." Mack and Imanol were no where to be seen, her brother was busy running the ship and Taalis was ... well, comatose. 'A new friend never hurt anyone,' Janeen brightened at the thought.

Ry'shan took her dinner and water and joined Janeen at her table. "Ry'shan Nadene Hhanna am I," she said in greeting. "Forward I do not mean to be. I am new, medical doctor in Sickbay, and have had no chance to meet new friends." Her eyes took Janeen in with curiosity. "You are Trill? Alone you must never be." She meant the symbiont within Janeen would always be with her.

"I'm Janeen," the Trill replied with her smile's width increasing a bit. Janeen watched Ry'shan curiously a moment wondering why the new doctor would think she'd never be alone. "And yes, I'm Trill ..! . uhm, Why do you say I'll never be alone?" She had no idea she was being asked about a symbiont.

"You are host, are you not?" Ry'shan tilted her head quizically. "You can speak with symbiont, can you not?"

Janeen covered her mouth with one hand and giggled a little. "Uhmm, no. I'm not a host. I'm too young for now. Not every Trill has a symbiont. The Commission is pretty picky who gets joined. There's only been one in my family in the last sixty or so years. It's 'not' an easy thing." She took a sip of her chocolate milkshake and dded, "You're not disappointed are you?" Some people were rather surprised that not every Trill was joined.

"No, of course not." Ry'shan smiled. "Friends we can be, with or without a host. Have you been aboard long?"

Janeen slurped the last of her milkshake through her straw. She was feeling better now that her appetite had returned and was considering dyeing the ends of her pigt! ails blue. "About ohhh, six months or so now," her brow knit in thought, "I think... maybe closer to nine." She shrugged, "With all the excitement that goes on around here it's easy to lose track. My brother claims to have been on aboard only two years but I think it's closer to three." She looked from the bottom of her empty cup to her new dining companion, "How about you?"

"I came aboard short time ago. Not very long. Since I have been here, busy it has been." Ry'shan glanced at Janeen. "What does your brother do?"

Janeen made a face like she'd just caught a whiff of some fresh sehlat droppings, "He works way, way too much lately if you ask me. He's the operations chief here... or was until Commander Brex got hurt real bad. I think he's the acting ex-oh now." Jaal had also spent every bit of spare time in sickbay with Taalis hoping she'd miraculously come out her coma. Janeen's brow furrowed a bit in confusion as the Starfleet ranking system still confused her a bit. "Can I ask you a question?"

Ry'shan reached over and gave her left wrist an encouraging squeeze. She smiled cheerfully. "Ask, you may. If answer I have, answer I will give."

"If he's the first officer, why isn't he the captain? Ya know, you'd think the second officer would be the second in command ... know what I mean?"

Ry'shan pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Hmm. Command of ship, thought I, was first to Captain. Perhaps it is a simple formality. The first officer is first to answer to the captain in command chain." Then, she shrugged. "But I am just simple." She looked over at Janeen. "Who is second officer?"

"Well," Janeen started not sounding entirely happy, "It 'was' my brother, but since Commander Brex is in a coma and the captain is a captive on Breen at the moment, he's the acting captain now ... I guess."

Ry'shan looked sad. Commander Brex! was not doing so well. She wasn't even sure he was able to hear her when she talked to him. "Your brother will do well. He must. Circumstances lead us to places we think we are not ready for. But ready or not, we do what we must."

"Yeeaaah...," she said slowly, "Someone needs to tell him that." Janeen tilted her head as if she'd just heard something monumental for the very first time. "I think he's been ready, he's just never had the chance." The blonde babbled on for a moment, "And with Taalis not doing well either, well, I'm sure that doesn't help at all."

Ry'shan sensed that the conversation was taking a serious turn, and she hoped she could be somehow encouraging to her new friend. She saw something in her eyes, sadness perhaps, and worry. "Perhaps it is well for your brother. These times do try us, and often make us better. This trial will make him stronger...Perhaps make him realize things about himself never reali! zed before." She paused. "Saddened am I about Commander Brex and Taalis. Wish for more I could do."

Janeen sighed. "It's okay. Everyone knows you're doing your best." She was quiet for a little bit and her 'I'm okay' smile appeared. "So, why did you join Starfleet? The whole point of me spending some time aboard the ship was to see if I'd like living in space and in Starfleet."

Ry'shan smiled. "Joined did I because of Mother..." She giggled. "Sorry. Mother is not known to you. Her name is Nancy Hhanna. Real mother she is not, but has been the only mother I knew since fourteen. She is a doctor and I desire to be like her. So am I here. I like it well. Many peoples to see. Hard to be alone on a ship full of peoples. But also hard lately to find time to sit with any one and make friends." She squeezed Janeen's hand. "Until now."

Janeen's hand instinctively squeezed back a little. Ry'shan's hand felt cold and it comfo! rted the young Trill. She brushed a bit of hair from her eyes with her free hand. "I know what you mean. I've made a few friends, but they've all been really busy lately with the alert status and all. Thank you for talking to me."

"Welcome you are." Ry'shan took a bite from her chilled strawberries.

"Shhh...we're hunting bio-mines" Pt 1

by

Lt Cernu K'rn - Asst Chief Science Officer, Biotec/Subspace specialist
Lt jg Phoebe Ivers - Science Officer, Subspace specialist
Lt jg Klaus Fienberg - Medical Officer, Neurocyber specialist
Ens 'Nara Sol - Engineering Officer, Tactical Systems specialist
Ens Ry'shan H'hanna - Medical Officer, Xeno-Biology specialist
Ens Tarin Iniara - Operations/Engineering Officer, Backup Telepath

Cernu stood in the secondary shuttle bay next to the massive bioship that was his sometime home, his transportation and always his deepest and dearest companion. For, as a Bonded, Cernu enjoyed a permanent psychic connection to the bioship and could interface mentally and physically at need, gestalting their abilities and melding into a far more capable whole. Yet at the moment, he stood in conversation with his Bond not as mind-mates but as mission participants.

~Do you think you can interface with these devices through the translation linkage?~ Cernu asked, holding a small biocrystalline device similar to the one implanted in the chest of his encounter suits. It translated his thoughts into spoken words in any language stored within its matrix, using a highly specialized intelligent-matrix to deal with accent and vernacular dialect. A small cart with an array of specialized biotec tools were laid out next to him as he bent to examine the alterations he had made to its program-latti.

~My concern is the amount of data that will be passing through the matrix. It may not be able to compensate for the gigaquads of data required without significant delay in processing and relay times~ came the reply. Vr'lu could easily look through Cernu's senses and examine the device, about the size of the Qlrn's fist. Instead, he chose to probe it with his own senses, at this range even more sensitive than an engineering tricorder and capable of quantum scans. ~The latti appear stable but without significant field-testing I cannot guarantee its functionality~

~Well the alternative..~ Cernu began.

~Can not be implemented safely~ Vr'lu ended with a shudder. There is NO WAY it would submit to being hard-connected to a machine for any reason, even to save it's life. For the same reason no Qlrn would allow such devices to be implanted within it's body. Unliving and living did not mix- it was a basic tenet of their core philosophies. It was one of the reasons they were implacable enemies of the Borg.

~Agreed~ Cernu replied and picked up the PADD laying next his tool kit. The biocrystalline devices laying on the leather-like folding case glowed with their own power and phosphorescence; one short and rounded with purple qualities, one a half hemisphere with a greenish tinge, a pen-like device of reddish hue and a series of six blue and orange cones. Quickly he thumbed through the names and rechecked their qualifications and their psychological profiles. ~Any objections?~

~None other than the fact that I will be carrying and interfacing with much hardtec~ Vr'lu replied with a delicate psychic shudder of revulsion. ~But my pod was chosen for this mission because of our unique design~

~Indeed~ Cernu agreed with a ruffle of his plumage. He was technically off duty at the moment and stood naked next to his ship. Not that you could tell, on a naked Qlrn there was nothing to see if you didn't know what to look for. One looked as much like the others, unless carrying young and even then, one may assume they were just fat. ~Is the habitat and working-space completed as of yet?~

~In an hour and a half~ Vr'lu replied with a little thought. Inside his body he was moving tissues and redesigning some of his layout, making space for the team and a working space; not exactly a runabout but they would want for little. It wasn't a fast process but it gave him virtually unlimited functional adaptability, when required. Given time, Vr'lu could even become a station-like facility. It was the advantage of the unique dormant genetic coding this new Stardiver possessed.

~Then I will begin to contact them~ Cernu replied and handed the node he had just adjusted to the k'tk'tkk that waited near the entrance to Vr'lu. It remained in deep shadows, not being one of those adapted to the light as of yet and took the node only once Cernu's hand reached into the darkness. With a chitter-squeak it thanked him and scuttled off to install the unit. Dr Klaus was very familiar with neurocybernetics (a field which made spiders of horror creep up and down Cernu's spine). Lt Ivers had a good strong grounding in general Sciences and a specialist in subspace phenomena, like himself. But unlike himself, she knew how hardtec DID it, not like the Qlrn softec methods. Ens 'Nara Sol was an Ops officer with an interesting background in Tactical Systems and Starship Design; too good to pass up in an available junior officer. Ens Ry'shan H'hanna was an Exo-Bio specialist and knew more about creepy crawly alien critters than Cernu was programmed for; 'impressive' ! to say the least. And that brought him to the troubled Ens Tarin, the Betazoid/Bajoran Hybrid with the Klingon temper and a psi-index near his own rating. In case something happened to him, they had to have a telepath aboard that could handle interface with Vr'lu, lest some unsuspected latent ned up catalyzed again and there be another "Navarre Incident". He sighed and shook his head as he considered the list, thinking about the danger Shinta was in. So far, he knew she was alive but she'd not called for help. If she did, he had the means to help her but until she did, he couldn't find her mind.

Then, with careful competence, Cernu copied his orders to each of the crewmen he had chosen from both vessels who met the needs of this mission. He attached the requirements, his summary regarding each of their capabilities and required them to advise him whatever field equipment they thought they would need and he would procure it prior to launch. At just over ninety-one meters in length and thirty wide, Vr'lu had more than enough space to accommodate a mission of this size. He would transport each member of the team and their personal effects onto Vr'lu once they signaled they were ready but they were all alerted to be ready within three hours.

With a flourish he sent the text. And the PADD 'bonked' at him; he had made an error. It took him nearly fifteen minutes of cursing and backtracking to figure out what he had done and to undo it.

~And they made YOU Assistant Chief Science Officer?~ Vr'lu remarked snidely in their heads.

~At least it wasn't engineer~ Cernu agreed chuckling.

****

Nara was sitting at her personal console in her quarters typing up some old memories from several months ago. It was a moment not too horrible. None so much more horrible than any part of any war, yet she dreamed of it almost every night. One of her men had died in that moment. It wasn't the first she lost, and that didn't make it any less painful, but why did the memory of the death of that one man haunt her dreams? Perhaps it was just something unexplainable and time would fade the memory. Perhaps there was more. If there was, she did not wish to know.

In mid-sentence, she sighed heavily in agitation as an urgent text came upon her screen. She saved her previous typing and began to go through things she would need to take with her. Three hours was plenty of time for her. She only had to make a trip to engineering to get diagnostic and repair tools. She went back to her quarters and packed those, a first aid kit, and a few changes of uniform. She also took along a phaser and a Sakarian fighting knife.

She didn't expect to need it to be reminded of her native planet, but it was more like bringing along a friend. It was an odd attachment. She had several cultures within her. Human, Betazoid and Sakarian. Her mother was Betazoid, though neither had taken much interest in the actual Betazoid culture, especially in the telepathy. Nara was perfectly capable of telepathy, but sought no training. She is not even sure she could hear thoughts focused at her. No moral Betazoid would do such without permission and the few times asked, she disallowed it. She was biologically human as well- as is her father. But as her father, her home and heart is Sakaria. It's just how it is. Earth is beautiful; human is who she is, but... A beep interrupted her thoughts. She had an hour.

Nara stopped her reflecting to double check things. She downloaded several ship designs into her tricorder for any reference she might need. She had to admit, she hadn't studied much on bio-ships. The only ones she assisted with were the regular metal alloy kind. From the half hour she read up to refresh what she may have forgotten.

She considered also downloading some tactical maneuvers she recorded while in the war (after they were used of course), but decided the war was still fresh in her memory. She could still remember every move they made in those battles. She then sent a message saying she was ready.

****

Dr. Fienberg quickly walked out of sickbay after a short talk with Dr. Reynolds. He was selected for a 'special' mission. He merely picked up his padd and asked to have his orders uploaded to it.

Reading the message quickly, he was unsure about the whole thing. -A mission to find a mine with organic elements? Why was I so foolish to add my knowledge of cyberneural systems.- Continuing to walk to his destination, a new thought entered his mind.

-Wait a moment.....this could be the Answer! This could solve my difficulties with a lasting and permanent bioneural connection!- With a new kick in his step, Klaus felt one step closer to finishing his project.

****

Ry'shan slowly walked out of Commander Khatroweena's office with a PADD in her hand. She was still trying to understand how this could be happening. She had been selected for a mission. A mission that could take days. A mission away from the ship, and with people she barely knew. However, not knowing the selected crew for the mission wasn't the problem because she loved to meet with new people. Her fear was letting them down.
They needed a Xeno-biologist, and her credentials fit the bill. So she was going on a mission to help collect biomine samples and conduct experiments...

She involuntarily shuddered. She disliked the word "experiment" because she had been one at the hands of the Seiticians for the first 14 years of her life. Then she reminded herself that experimenting biomine samples was not the same as tormenting a living being. She frowned. But biology was a branch of knowledge which dealt with living organisms and vital processes, so in a sense, the biomine could be living tissue. Perhaps she was to determine what types of tissue.

She looked at the list of crew going and sighed with some relief. "Dr. Claws Fine-berrg." She rolled the r. At least someone in Medical besides herself was going. That was good.
She was curious about all the rest of the crew, especially Cernu K'rn, the Assistant Chief Science Officer and his ship. She tried to say his name. "Sirno...Sirnew...Kurn? Korn?" She nibbled on her lower lip. She had a hard time with names and wanted to say them properly, but sometimes, they didn't come out right. Oh, she hoped she didn't offend anyone!

For supplies, she would have to wear her own tight fitting enviro-suit beneath her uniform and carry extra supplies of Kaolectrolyte tablets for her Hyperdehydration Level 3, a condition which has similar symptoms of Kalla-Nohra disease common among Cardassians and Bajorans. The suit would help keep her body temperature normal for herself...which would be 20 degrees lower than the average ship temperature of 65. She didn't know if there would be any bright lights, so she would bring a pair of special protective goggles just in case. If they would be out there on Cernu's ship for a number of days, then a change of uniform was a good idea.

She couldn't bring her tank to sleep in, but her enviro-suit was compatible to help her adjust. Besides, she didn't need to sleep in the tank all the time. Sometimes it was good to get out of it and experience "the bed". The tank did help to replace whatever her body lost, however.

She put a Standard Physician's Medical kit on her list. It contained a Neural stimulator, a Medical Tricorder, a Portable protodynaplaser, a Portable stasis field generator, a Shielded nanite hypospray, and a Scalpel with monomolecular chain. Add basic med supplies and she was all set. Once she was ready, she sent a message that she was prepared to leave for the mission.

Then, she had to do something about her nervousness so she sat with Commander Brex in the medical unit and talked to him, even though he could not respond.

****

Phoebe Ivers was trying to relax in her quarters when she got the notice to prepare for the mission. Her face was a changing mask of many expressions as she read it. Bioship ? Fascinating. She had never been aboard anything even remotely close. And it was a daring mission. The sort of thing science officers rarely looked for in Starfleet. Because most of a science officer's duties revolved around the lab- trying to discover new and exciting, if often rather insignificant data.

Phoebe enjoyed field assignments. And this looked to be a hell of a field assignment.
She sent a quick reply to the message, stating she would be ready on time, and went about packing. Her bag was soon filled with all manner of items, since Phoebe was expecting a long trip. Well, long in terms of being aboard a strange new ship with four other people, none of whom she had yet met.

The bag was heavy as she hoisted it on her shoulder to test the weight. And she suddenly hoped the bioship didn't have a payload limit.

With a bit of a girlish grin on her face; the result of being chosen for her first major assignment aboard the Miranda, she left her quarters. And she left some music playing. Why? She didn't really know. She only knew she wanted it on when she got back.

****

Ensign Tarin was in the gymnasium when her orders arrived. Pausing from her workout she accessed the nearest computer terminal and called up the message. She quickly scanned its contents: mission originating from Miranda to retrieve a bio-mine, could take several days. Bio-mine? She repeated the word in her head. So the situation outside the ship was a bit more complicated than she had originally thought.

Iniara wondered why she of all people had been picked for the mission. She knew next to nothing about bioweaponry, wasn't an engineer, and couldn't pilot a shuttle. Maybe it was because of her newly acquired Hazard Team membership, she thought, thinking that probably wasn't it. She read further.

"Your telepathic abilities will be required for the successful completion of this mission," she read out loud. So that was it. The mission commander-- Lt. Cernu K'rn, she saw-- had apparently done his homework.

Iniara sighed to herself. She didn't like using telepathy, especially for not that long. That didn't mean she was incapable of such a feat, just that she would most likely come home with a serious headache. But, orders were orders. After reading and processing the message once more she closed it, sent a quick reply, then headed to the showers. She would have three hours to prepare; more than enough time to gather what she would need.

****

Klaus had reached transporter room 1. At his moment, he read in full.
"Your skills in Cyberneural systems and connections will be vital for this mission's success."

~Thats the last time I add any new skills to my permanent record. Oh well, I suppose time on a shuttle away from the ship will do me well.~

There was another from the crew that was selected for the mission. ~Ens. Tarin?~

Dr. Fienberg thought for a moment, recalling Iniara's medical records. ~The only reason I see the need for Ens. Tarin would be her recent assignment on the new Hazard Team.....unless....?~

Iniara had been standing to one side of the room, a small, almost flat pack slung diagonally across her back. She turned as he entered. “Doctor.” She nodded in greeting before resuming her previous posture.

Nara had a bag and her engineering kit. She had put the bag over one shoulder and carried the kit with one hand. Not as if she needed the extra hand to open a door, but she just liked knowing she had one hand free. Maybe that was some warrior thing in her: to always be ready. She entered the transporter room and saw two people already there.
One was a red-headed female Bajoran. Nara sensed a seriousness about the woman and nodded a greeting to her, fearing any act of friendliness would simply annoy the woman.

The other was a male. Perhaps human or some human-looking species. He seemed not so stoic. He wasn't smiling, but Nara thought perhaps he simply felt inconvenienced for being called to an away mission. Nara smiled at him testing the grounds.

Iniara didn’t recognize the third member of their group, but noticed that like her she wore a single solid pip on her gold uniform shirt. She returned the woman’s greeting before stepping forward, extending a hand. “Ensign Tarin Iniara, Operations,” she introduced herself.

Nara smiled at the woman then. She shook her hand and returned the introduction, "Ensign Naranda Roswell, Engineering."

****

And aboard the USS Miranda, Ry'shan nervously gathered her things together and carried them to the Transporter Room. She wondered if she would meet Phoebe Ivers there, as Phoebe was on the same ship she was. She took a deep breath as she entered the Transporter Room and noticed there was only a transporter technician at the controls. She greeted him with a smile and engaged him with small talk until it was time...

Phoebe arrived after Ry'shan; and she came in seeming a bit winded. Her bag was heavy, crammed with anything she thought she might need. She hoisted the heavy thing off her shoulder and it landed on the floor of the transporter room with a thud worthy of stone. Phoebe brushed some of her long hair out of her face and greeted Ry'shan properly; with a smile and an offered hand. "You must be Ensign H'Hanna ?" Phoebe said. "A pleasure. I'm Doctor Ivers. And we'll call that napsack of mine 'Arthur'. It's big enough for a name of it's own, don't you think?"

Ry'shan awkwardly shook Phoebe's hand. She liked hugs better, but as a Starfleet officer, she had learned to hold back with hugs as a greeting. "Hello, Dr. Ivers. It is well to meet you...and Arthur. My bag and Med Kit have no names." She looked down at Phoebe's knapsack. "You are correct. Arthur is big."

"Well.... I wonder when Mr. Kern is going to give us the call to go." Phoebe seemed excited. And she was. Not only was this her first away mission aboard the Miranda, it was also a very unusual, and important mission.

****

~Miranda Operations control, bioship Vr'lu requests clearance to depart~ the merged minds of Cernu and Vr'lu sent to the Ops Main on the bridge.

+Bioship Vr'lu this is Miranda Operations, you are cleared for egress; +good hunting+

~Thank you Miranda Operations and, we hope so~ and on the shuttlebay, Vr'lu shimmered and faded from view phasing out of existence. In a few moments they had emerged from the Miranda and running alongside, opened a channel to the local members of their team while signaling to operations they would initiate transport.

~Bioship Vr'lu to Ensign H'hanna and Lt Ivers, prepare for transport~

Phoebe hoisted up the spontaneously named "Arthur" once again, tugging the bag's carrying strap over her shoulder. "Acknowledged. Ready for transport." she responded.
From where both women stood they disappeared but the feeling of familiar Federation transport was replaced by a far different sensation. The tingly displacement of transport as the world faded from and then returned to view. Instead, they felt a connection; something touched them and held them securely for a moment.

And then it *pulled*. To them it appears that they accelerated through the ship and out into space, passing through barriers, people, machinery and bulkheads as if they did not exist.

And then perception steadied. And they found themselves and all of their baggage standing in a largish compartment, similar to any Starfleet compartment but more organic and fluid in appearance. Lighting was a comfortable blend between standard lighting and a dimmer, more casual, ambience. There were no LCARS interface, though there did appear to be some sort of touchplate in some placed along the wall, near where field equipment stood active and ready to be used.

Phoebe's entire body kind of... jerked as the transport stopped. "Well, that's an eye opener, and no mistake." she said, her rustic British upbringing coming out. She glanced over at Ry'shan, her dark eyes wide, and her eyebrows raised as if to ask " you ok ?" without the benefit of word.

Ry'shan didn't make any move for a moment as she stood there, trying to determine what had just taken place. Finally, she nodded and turned her blue eyes on Phoebe. "Beaming tickles. This..." She shook her head and blinked her eyes. "...makes me dizzy."

With a quick dive into subspace, Vr'lu crossed the system and emerged next to Galaxy, though remaining out of phase to prevent being scanned by the Breen. In the two centuries since the two species had encountered one anothr and the Breen had suffered defeat after defeat, it had largely been because the Breen couldn't penetrate the phase-cloaks of the Qlrn. It was far better that the Breen never become aware that a Qlrn accompanied the Federation ships, or had access to capture him and analyze his ship.

~Galaxy Operations, bioship Vr'lu requests permission to initiate transport of mission personnel~ they called.

+Bioship Vr'lu, Galaxy Operation grants clearance to proceed+

And for Lt Feinberg, Ensigns Sol and Tarin Vr'lu alerted them to their impending transport. +All personnel prepare for transit+

And as one they experienced the same sensations of transit that the Miranda crew had, halting a pico-second later in clear-space within the lab area.

Nara sighed after seeing she had rematerialized. She crinkled her brow at her surroundings. This was mere curiosity, nothing at all dislike or disgust. In fact she was quite fascinated and intrigued. She stepped over to a wall and touched it.

When she was a child it had taken Iniara some time to adjust to being transported, and now it seemed she would have to repeat the process with what she had just experienced. For a moment she stood frozen in place, her mind processing the information, before she turned and began to examine her surroundings in silence.

One of the two bulkhead doors, appearing like those of a Starfleet vessel, flowed open silently rather than rumbling with a clunk. Through it, Cernu emerged from the forward sections of the ship, wearing his version of the Starfleet Science Officer's uniform, complete with rank pips.

Phoebe noticed Kern's uniform didn't look quite right. Of course, she had noticed it before, but somehow the contrasting elements that were always present were made to stand out by the equally unusual surroundings they were now in. The uniform was, for all intents and purposes, a Starfleet uniform. But, it almost looked blurred. As if it were just as much a part of Kern, as it were an article of clothing.

Dr. Ivers dropped 'Arthur" on the floor at her feet and took a good look around.
Dr. Fienberg opened his eyes slowly......then checked his own breath for the stink of booze.......just in case. He mumbled something in German, to the effect of. "I'm sober?"

Iniara had been pondering the ship’s composition when she heard Cernu enter the room. She looked up from the wall she had been studying and in an instant her mind made sense of everything. One of the few things she knew about the Q’lrn race, besides how to identify them, was that they all possessed telepathic abilities. This mission needed an extra telepath she surmised, and in the absence of other Q’lrn she was probably the best available alternative. Now in the presence of the ranking officer and mission commander she snapped to attention, waiting for him to address the group.

Klaus had seen a Q'lrn in person only once and it looked a bit different than Cernu. Cernu was definitely different. Even from any pictures he'd seen as well. He did know, however, that Q'lrn were telepathic. He decided to project his thoughts a Cernu the best he could as a non-telepath.

~I never did feel comfortable around Telepaths. Laci ruined that for me when we were together....no matter. I am prepared to work with you. I await your orders Lieutnant.~

Naranda smiled slightly at someone's comment at being sober she had overheard during her almost entranced observation of the surroundings. She had taken out her tricorder scanning. Her curiosity almost caused her to be insubordinate as she saw in the corner of her eye the Q'lrn enter. She wanted to scan him too, but decided instead to flip the tricorder closed. She had an initial...perhaps shyness would be a best word. There was no fear, for she knew he was no enemy, but she decided she would put walls up. She knew little of this species, but that they were telepathic. If she feared anything, it was someone invading her thoughts without permission. Just as Iniara she stood to attention.

~So that there is no misunderstandings I will speak to your minds directly. Please be at ease for I am not reading your thoughts, merely sending a 'signal' to your receptive centers. Please allow me a moment to explain the mission and then I will be happy to entertain whatever questions I may be able to answer~ His crest flared and shivered expressively as he 'spoke' to them, making small hand gestures and arm gestures.

~I have chosen each of you for the elements that you represent with your skills and documented experiences. Dr Feinberg was chosen because of his experience in cyberneural technologies. Ensign Tarin was chosen because of her Engineering skills but also because she is a powerful enough telepath to be able to handle contact with Vr'lu without catalyzing or being injured. Ensign H'hanna is a Xeno-Biologist while Ensign Sol is a Tactical systems expert. And like myself Lieutenant Ivers is a Science officer with a firm grounding in Astrophysics and Subspace phenomena~

He turned and touched a console sitting to the side, still inactive. ~Our mission is to find and analyze a biomine in the system. It is assumed that these mines not only generate the subspace field effects but that they are explosive in some fashion since the Breen have not been able to perform any analysis themselves~

'And if they had, they probably wouldn't share the data with us, freely.' Ivers thought. And then she wondered if Cernu had "heard" her thoughts, despite his promise not to read them. Phoebe's feelings were often something of an open book. Especially the distate for The Breen that she shared with her friend, T'Prala Marquez.

Nara watched intently as he worked on the console. An eyebrow cocked at the way the console reacted to touch. It seemed inactive and then suddenly came alive. She grew anxious to touch it herself. Her mind then went over the information he had just provided. "Have they already been located or do we need to customize a scan to search them out?" She spoke aloud as she thought.

~We will need to use whatever scans you can put together. Vr'lu will be using the senses that he has but we have brought in a high-powered, fine resolution short range palet which we have been able to spring off of our secondary sense clusters~

"How will we be able to get close enough to one of those things to analyze it in depth ?" she asked aloud. Phoebe had no ability to transmit thoughts, and she suddenly wondered if this would impede her effectiveness on this mission.

Ry'shan eyes were intent upon Cernu, fascinated that she could hear him speak in her mind, but not see his lips move at all. She didn't say a word. She just listened and wondered to herself how she was going to be able to contribute to this group.

~Vr'lu can capture biomines an transport them to us without detonation though we are unsure what causes detonation. It is my belief that these mines are t'kith'kin in origin but they could just as easily be a Breen technology that has been taken over and turned against them. Our mission is to analyze and develop a counter-agent~ He turned back and faced them all, smiling warmly ~I am firm in my belief that we will be able to survive to accomplish this goal~

Nara looked at him. His words sounded vulcan. She smiled back, "If not, then I suppose at least the biomines are no longer a threat as they will have been already used. Either way we accomplish the goal. Survival is second in concern." Nara wondered why she had spoke so coldly. She sounded like a Klingon. She winced inwardly wondering how this "wonderful" first impression would go. Then an idea came to her. She laughed. It likely sounded nervous, making her sound as if she were scared. She began to feel warm as she tried to make it seem as if she was making a joke. She wasn't sure why she was acting this way. She wasn't one to be much nervous about anything. The moment she beamed on, she felt as if she had to put walls up or else someone would see something in her she herself refused to see. She wished someone else would speak.

~Actually, I am proposing we capture live mines~ Cernu dropped into the pause.

"Then I guess we'd best disembark." Dr. Ivers suggested. "We can compare notes and get to know each other en route. But, I'm sure everyone here will agree time is not one of our staunchest supporters right now."

"Time never is." Nara turned and looked at the ship again. Though not out of curiosity, simply of staring at walls while thinking.

Klaus quickly agreed. "Yes, time is of the essence."

Quickly stepping off to the side, and looking inside his equipment case, "Most of my equipment is makeshift, I hope it will be sufficient." Dr. Fienberg clumsily handed Lt. K'rn a PaDD detailing the equipment he had brought.

~Please add your personal equipment~ Cernu gestured to consoles that certainly looked familiar. ~You will find we have a medical scanner and biometric sensor array~
"Well, I suppose I should set up."

Throughout the entire exchange Iniara had remained silent, content to observe those around her. A bit of anxiety had flared up within her when Lt. K'rn had explained her purpose for being here to the team. Now she quickly filed that bit of emotion away; it would serve no useful purpose to her now. Truthfully, she wondered why she still clung to the pretense of being fully Bajoran. Years ago it had been useful to conceal that ability from those who would fear it or try to use it for their own personal gain, but since joining Starfleet she had discovered many people were far more tolerant, if not completely indifferent to her little 'gift'. She made a mental note to rethink things in the near future.

"Dr. Fienberg ?" Phoebe addressed the rugged looking German. "I don't have any equipment to set up that can't be set up in a bit. May I lend a hand in getting your gear up and running ?"

Nara walked over to the console Kurn was using and scanned it with her tricorder. Soon she was able to use it as any other console. She began to program any concievable element the mines could posess. She wondered aloud, "What if oxygen or something else in this air is a detonator? Do we have an airtight vaccumm to contain these?" She was simply exploring all possibilities.

Dr. Fienberg turned to Phoebe. "I suppose Dr. Ivers. I made all of this myself.....I may need your scientific opinion anyway. My knowledge in cyberneural systems is mostly self taught."

"And my knowledge is little more than one can learn a a university." Phoebe replied. "I'd be glad to lend a hand. And then you can help me unpack 'Arthur'." she gestured to her overstuffed knapsack.

"Yes....I have heard of this...Arthur."

Together they began unpacking Dr. Fienberg's equipment. Phoebe took each piece that she unpacked, and examined it carefully. "This is remarkable equipment, doctor." she commented. "And you designed it all yourself ? Are you sure it will interface with... ver-loo properly ?" Phoebe had a bit of a struggle with the bioship's name.

"I hope so. I thought we were going on this mission in a standard shuttle, or maybe a Danube-class. I may take longer, but I suppose I could create a hard connection between my equipment and Vr'lu." Dr. Fienberg was quite surprised that he pronounced the ship's name correctly the first time around. A padd, displaying "the Arm" in detail slipped out of the pack for all to see. Klaus noticed and quickly scooped it up, before anyone could get a good look at it, then stuffed it back in his pack.

"I'm wondering if a runabout could handle the field those mines generate." Phoebe stood, and turned to the Engineer from the Galaxy. She had had a chance to review her file waiting for transport, and she was anxious to work with her. "What do you think ? Do you think a runabout could handle that minefield ?"

Nara thought a moment. "Depends on the pilot. Also depends on the streamlining of the ship. Oh, and the accuracy of it's response systems." She shrugged, "Theoratically...Sure."

Phoebe nodded as the engineer spoke. She obviously knew her business. The scientist looked back down at Dr. Fienberg, who was still pulling things from his pack. "I'm sure we can get you hooked into Verlu alright." she offered. "Especially if you can lend a hand." her last remark was directed at Naranda.

~You will find that these consoles, which are Starfleet issue and already connected, have extra ports to link your equipment to them. There will be no further invasion of Vr'lu's person with hardtec that what has been permitted already~ Cernu advised. That last wasn't an admonishment or a warning, merely a fact stated calmly so everyone would know.

Nara looked at Phoebe and then at the Doctor. "What do we have here?"

"Nothing.....it's nothing. Just part of my research."

Phoebe knelt down again, the light from Vr'lu's floor-lights giving her angular features an eerie look; "I honestly do not know." she said. She felt her dark eyes fall on Dr. Fienberg. And she realized he was a handsome man, in a rugged, and somewhat rascally kind of way. "What is this item, for example ?" she asked, holding a small impliment up for Fienberg's inspection.

Klaus reached forward with his right hand, taking the impliment. His wedding band glinted slightly. "This is an Ohms reader. A simple one, save for the fact that I modified it to detect currents in nerve tissue. I needed specialized tools, so I fashioned them from whatever surplus I could find. We weren't equipped for Neurocyber systems."

While the small group conversed over equipment that was completely alien to her, Iniara took a moment to seat herself in a nearby chair. She tapped experimentally at the surface before her and was pleased to see it come to life and display a
LCARS screen. She tested the interface for a moment by calling up several random pieces of information. Satisfied, she stood and approached Lt. K'rn.

~Sir, one question if I may,~ she began telepathically. ~I have never before communicated with an entity such as Vr'lu. Are there any specific protocols or anything I should be careful of when attempting contact?~ The thought of communicating telepathically with a bioship made her nervous, but the more she considered it she realized it was also a very exciting prospect.

With a gesture to his own temple he tapped once and she felt a hesitant touch, like the offering of someone's hand for a handshake. But in this case, it was like a giant offering its hand for her to shake, so large was the mind behind it.

"Prepped and Ready"

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

Location: Security Central, USS Galaxy-A

Time: After the Hydran attack.

Security was the busiest point of the ship, even after the attack.

With the civilians and non essentials tucked into ship shelters during the attack, security staff took positions throughout the ship. The steady rumble of energy weapons impacting on the Galaxy's shields was like a steady, soft rain, no less threatening than a summer storm on Earth. Space was far distant inside the ship, as perceived by the security officers. Immediate concerns eclipsed the stray shots that occasionally impacted the shields. As long as they held, there were no worries.

Then the rain stopped pouring down.

Corgan kept his security staff at battlestations, even when the ship dipped down to yellow alert. Caught in Breen territory after an attack gave as much ease as a swimmer in a tank of Chuffian Devilfish. A lack of activity that came from watching and waiting brought the old worries of the attack to the surface, causing unease.

None felt the weight more than James. He had to worry about an attack, a potential boarding action, and an assassin girlfriend.

If that wasn't enough, he also had a call from the Miranda.

One word.

Showtime.

A Naussican with brain damage could get the gist of that message.

T'lan worked the dispatch console, ignoring the activity outside the range of her own duties. Her face held an iridescent glow from the amber LCARS screen, as she watched the security department's movements.

"Time to go, Lieutenant." Corgan tapped T'lan on her shoulder.

She looked up from her work, and asked, "Sir?"

"Hazard's been called up. We're on." Corgan lept to the weapons rack, and was already inspecting his type three C phaser, checking down the iron sight for alignment, then checking the power supply for charge.

T'lan, however, did not move. She urgently waved James over, and asked, "Sir, this may be of the utmost importance. I suggest you take a look."

He slung the rifle over his shoulder. "Ok, what do you have?"

The main dispatch screen activated a viewscreen capture; the date and time printed in bold amber letters. On the screen, in a background of stars with a small piece of the blue and white Breen homeworld on the corner, was a Breen attack vessel. The disorganized machine was like a series of sprockets split in half, hollowed out, then improvised as nacelles and hull segments. It was a stark gray/green, and the picture showed the ship from its dorsal view.

"A Breen ship." Corgan nodded, "We're surrounded by them. What about it, Lieutenant?"

"Observe."

Splitting the screen in half, T'lan brought up a secondary image. Wavelengths showing a frequency chart appeared, as well as a bar graph indicating power readings. The readings were coming from the Breen ship, captured sometime during the battle. When James checked the bar graph, he saw that the spikes were pings from sensors coming from the Breen.

"They were scanning us." T'lan stroked a finger across the screen, "A high resolution scan, from that vessel. This particular vessel, upon observation, did not participate in the battle, but instead kept scanning us during battle." "Standard of the Breen to do that." James commented.

"There was a focus on the scans that was not standard." T'lan argued, "The other Breen vessels passively scanned and observed us in battle. This vessel concentrated on the ship's interior. Their scans would have been counteracted, but our focus was on the Hydrans. But since they weren't…"

"They were able to map out our ship… even get our positions…." The wheels ground in his head, "Well… sh… T'lan, enlarge the image of the ship, four times." She clicked on the console, and the ship enlarged.

He kept a sharp eye on the picture, and saw small, squiggly scrawl on the starboard nacelle. "Magnify that nacelle, eight times. Maximum resolution."

The screen magnified on the nacelle. The scrawl on the ship's nacelle became legible, yet strangely alien. Corgan tapped on the screen, "See that?" "Breen writing." T'lan said.

"Exactly. Computer… translate the writing on the screen. Run all standard Breen translation matricies."

The computer chirped, =/\="Processing…"=/\=

Moments of teeth grinding impatience, computer chugging, and rapping fingers on plastic consoles, the computer then replied, =/\="This image is composed of Breen Standard text. The image translates to "A Series of Large Explosions."=/\=

The bile started to gather in his throat. Then James started to feel a surge of panic. T'lan, the observant Vulcan, caught on. "Sir, your outburst may be counterproductive to morale." Staring hard at the screen, James replied, "They're presence may be counterproductive to our morale. Do you know what that ship is?" T'lan shrugged, "I do not." "That…" James tapped the screen, "Is the "Series of Large Explosions", or in short, the Clusterf**k. That's the nickname people gave that ship during the war. T'lan, you are looking at the assault vessel of one of the most elite regiments of the Breen military. That ship houses the Terinax 8th Guard, Breen Colonials that are known to be exceptionally skilled and vicious. They are considered to be the best regiment in the Breen special forces, already on a ship known to have its fare share of kills."

"The Terinax 8th Guard? I have not heard of that regiment, sir." T'lan stated.

"You're not a veteran. I don't expect you to." Corgan said, "They are known to be vicious. I myself have not encountered them in battle, but the 108th Last Chancers, my regiment, saw their handiwork on a Klingon Shock Trooper battalion. They were brutal… merciless butchers. Nothing but bodies of their enemies… and the stink of their disruptors. Explosion craters everywhere from their sappers… they are damn good." His suspected nemesis frozen on the screen, James sighed, "They are watching us. I don't like it."

T'lan added, "It would be prudent to prepare. Elite or not, we have a duty." Corgan sighed, his dread not going away, "Right you are, T'lan. Call Ensign Harrison to take your position at dispatch and suit up. We're going on a mission. The Terinax 8th Guard, if they plan on giving us a stab in the back, will have to wait until we get back. Meanwhile, keep security on high alert, and switch to battlestation formation B for the time being." "Aye, sir." "And T'lan… Call the other Hazard Team Members. We need them… now." Corgan trundled to the locker area, uncomfortably shifting his rifle. T'lan, much to his annoyance, asked, "Sir, you are aware that we have yet to train, and that our tryouts were a few days ago. Logically, we cannot be ready at this time. Are you sure deploying the Hazard Team is a wise decision." To that, Corgan replied, "Not my decision to make, T'lan. We're going to be with the Miranda Team. They'll show us the ropes. Besides, we have people on the ground being held hostage, and for reasons unexplained, the Captain wants to go through with their demands. Personally, I would rather attempt a rescue instead of going out to flush out an alien base, but either way this is a job that a Hazard Team has to do. Since we are the Hazard Team, ready or not, we will go out and do it."

"Suit up. Have everyone ready in five minutes." Corgan ordered T'lan, "I'll meet you all there."

T'lan unemotionally shrugged off Corgan's coldness. Being unemotional, T'lan thought nothing of it, though her misgivings of being part of an untested team were hard to ignore.

Logically, Corgan was right. They were needed, ready or not.

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

In Cargo Bay three, James cycled through a stack of crates. Selecting one tagged with his name and rank, James carefully slid it out of the pile, and clacked the case open. Smells of dust and earth wafted through the box.

A battlefield's smell. Burnt, adding a touch of blood.

"Its been awhile." Corgan mused, gathering up a dull, gray cloth wrapping something unknown. He closed the case; on the flat of it were the words printed "108th Last Chancers", underneath a shackled, crucified skeleton.

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe - Engineer

Lieutenant (Jg) Dr. Klaus Fienberg, Medical &

Lieutenant Dr. Janelle Reynolds, CMO

(Occurs before ‘There’s a New Chief in Town Part Two’)

"A Friendly Visit"

It took a long time for Dhani to reach Sick Bay, not only was she trying to read and walk at the same time, but she had stopped several times along the way to rub her swelling leg and numerous times she was almost thrown into the wall as emergency teams ran down the corridor with a total disregard for anyone else who might be there. As the doors to sick bay opened she gave it a weary glance, it was odd; she usually woke up in sick bay, seeing the doors from this perspective was strange.

"Lieutenant!"

Klaus had met Dhani before, but hadn't spent much time with her in the entire time they served so far. Klaus ran up and guided her along.

"What happened?"

“A lot of things!” Dhani replied vaguely still reading the data padd. She put it down as he directed her to a bio bed. Reaching the bed she slipped her tool kit off her shoulder and propped it on the floor next to the bed.

“I was in Deflector control, roof collapsed.” She elaborated. Hopping onto the bed sent pain shooting down her leg. She cringed and bit her lip slightly to keep herself from yelling. She had been controlling the pain quite well up until now.

“Cut my leg and my head. That’s it I think. Though I haven’t really had time to check myself out, have been in engineering, and on the bridge for the last few hours. I stopped by earlier but you guys were packed.”

"You should have come in. We would have seen to you." Klaus went right to work. Scanning, looking under bandages. "Did you do these bandages yourself?"

Dr Reynolds approached the two and observed the self help, "Looks like someone has been doctoring themselves. What gives?"

Dhani looked up at Reynolds as she spoke,

“No.” she half laughed, half cringed, “I had too much to do. Oh and Turan put the bandages on for me.” She paused wanting to flick Kalus away, to make him stop poking, “He dressed the wound in Deflector control, he insisted. Stopped the blood from making a mess!” she smiled slightly.

"Yes, from what I've heard, Mr. Trelar is a nice young fellow. He didn't do to bad of a job. Nurse, dermal regen."

Dhani took a look down at the neatly wrapped bandage,

“No, I suppose he didn’t. Must be all his boy scout training.” She replied.

“But what about you lot?” Dhani asked, “How is everything down here?”

Reynolds and Fienberg glanced at each other then back at her, "Busy, very busy. I haven't seen things this bad in a long time.” Reynolds pulled off the bandages and grabbed the dermal regenerator and started to work on her cuts. She was having trouble getting it to close properly, "You should have come to sickbay as soon as it happened. Engineering could have done without you for what would have only taken a good five minutes to do." Reynolds had a big problem with people who thought that their boy scout training was a license to treat them and others.

Klaus felt the moment was almost comical. He stood back for a moment, unneeded.

“No they couldn’t.” Dhani replied quickly, “If you think you’re busy here, you should see the damage report that is still being compiled!” she flinched slightly as she felt Reynolds wrath through the Dremal regenerator,

“The aft shields failed and if we go into battle again none of us will have much to do cause we’ll all be dead! Again.” She added, trying to drive her point home.

“I have hade much worse injuries than this, and still come out on top!” she reminded them.

"That may be true but it certainly makes our job harder. But then again, who am I? I'm just the ship's Chief Medical Officer here. Maybe I should just give a dermal regenerator to everyone on the ship and let them all doctor themselves." She looked at Klaus, "Something wrong?"

Klaus was smiling. "Nothing.......something just seems amusing."

Dhani stifled a laugh, but as the CMO turned to snap at Klaus she couldn’t help but smile. She quickly wiped the smile off and replaced it with a more serious look as Reynolds turned back to her,

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.” Dhani replied. The serious look that crossed her face didn’t really buffer the joke very well. She felt like she was sitting on a wire, tipping dangerously over the edge.

"I was being sarcastic." She felt around her scalp where she was injured. She pushed at one spot and saw her cringe a bit, "Sorry."

“And I was joking.” Dhani replied rubbing her head, a sour look crossed her face,

“Any way,” Dhani changed the subject, “I haven’t checked the damage report to this section, what have you got that needs fixing?”

"I haven't noticed anything seriously damaged that I haven't been able to fix.......well, mostly."

"What nothing?" Dhani asked surprised.

"Well, if you consider the Crew components of the ship to be reparted like a bio-neural gel pack, or a dilithium crystal."

Dhani gave Kalus a strange look followed by a frown,

“Well if there is anything,” she paused, “well you know where to find me.”

She gave them both a look, as if to say; ‘are we done?’

"I want to keep you overnight...for observation." Klaus' face was unbelievably straight. Oddly enough, he felt the need to touch his wedding band a little obsessively.

Dhani looked him up and down noting his body language. She gave him a slight smile and then hopped off the bio bed. Turning to Reynolds,

“Cargo bay 4 is empty if you want to use it to set up an emergency triage facility.” She told her.

"Good. If things continue to go the way it's going, we may need that space." Before she let her go, "By the way, no more letting anyone try to fix you up that is not a doctor, okay?"

Dhani smiled at Reynolds,

“Sure thing Doc.” She said, “I’ll get their credentials first.”

"Yes......I'll get our equipment prepped for movement should we need to take that space."

Dhanishta nodded her thanks to them both before grabbing her tool kit and data padds.

"Familiar Ground"

Captain Elaithin Jii
Counselor Karyn Dallas

OOC: Takes place prior to "The Hunt", part IV

He gave her a wan smile in return as he closed his eyes, desiring to sleep the worst of it off. "Sure. It only hurts when I laugh." And as much as she wanted to, she couldn't bring herself to smile, even for his sake. Even worse, she found the damnable prickling of tears behind her eyes. "I don't feel much like laughing, Jii." "Eh." he replied with a low - and stiff - shrug. "You had to be there."

Dallas covered a sniffle with an intake of breath, the beginnings of a chuckle perhaps. "Perhaps I was," she replied softly, cryptically. He frowned a moment, raising his head off the cold hard floor, and casting a critical eye over his friend. "Karyn, did they take you as well? You look fine."

"And I am," she replied quickly, assuredly. "It's just I can imagine...what they did. I, oh grozit, forgive me," she said, dropping her grav-chair to the floor. "Let me see if I can help you."

"Well." he started, coughing a moment. "Far be it from me to turn down a helping hand."

"I have to say," Karyn stated, gently examining him for broken bones, "you're taking this a lot better than I would be. And please, don't tell me something glib like you've been here before. I was there, remember? Lots of contusions and abrasions," she muttered, "perhaps a concussion and I hope no internal bleeding. Any chest pain, trouble breathing or loss of consciousness?"

He pulled his tunic aside, revealing where the electroshock electrodes had been suctioned to his skin. "A little of all three."

"Jesus Christ," Dallas muttered, her hands shaking. "I have nothing with which to scan you, Jii. But your pulse is strong and your breathing appears normal. Please, let me know if there's any change. I'm afraid you'll have to stay awake. I can't risk allowing you to fall asleep. I won't," she stated firmly.

"Right. How about a catnap, instead?"

"I mean it, Jii," Karyn said, her anger clearly evident. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, not to anyone I care about, not again."

"That has the ring of an oath to it." he replied wearily. "Thinking of a change in careers? Corgan's job in danger?"

"You have to feel secure to do security," snapped Karyn. "I don't feel it."

"Imprisonment often has that effect, I've noticed." then he frowned a moment. "I seem to be gathering a great deal of experience with it lately. This may in fact be my third straight assignment where I've been imprisoned or capture in some fashion. I really hope it doesn't turn into a habit."

"You're not responsible, you know," added Dallas, seemingly out of the blue. "You might think so for awhile, but no matter how many times it happens, just remember you're not."

"Neither are you, Karyn." he replied, meeting her gaze finally. "Like you said earlier - I have been here before. "I'll be fine. I'm sorry for the way this mission's turned out - not exactly the salvation for you that I promised."

"Salvation?" Karyn asked with a sarcastic edge, "I wasn't aware I need saving. And in any case, you promised me nothing."

"Politically speaking." he noted, and then a strange expression passed his face. "Never thought I'd use that phrase. How can so many things change, and yet so many still stay the same? I always wanted a Captaincy, Karyn - from the moment I joined Starfleet. I wanted to change the universe."

He frowned, and then looked around at this surroundings. "I don't seem to be doing all that well."

Sounds from outside the cell interrupted them then, and Jii checked his chronometer. "Right on time."

"This talk's not over, Jii." Karyn informed him mock-sweetly.

"I rather thought it wasn't."

“Close Enough”

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe - Engineer

(This is set before "Revolutionary")

**Main Engineering deck 38**

Engineering was a hum of activity as Dhanishta entered. After ‘locking’ Suder away in his quarters she had a lot to do but within seconds there was a crowd around her.

“Sir, I have that report you requested.” Lieutenant Jason said handing over a padd.

Dhani nodded as she took it from him.

“Sir, the simulations you requested are running.” Jiiles said.

“Sir……”

“Sir……”

“Sir…..”

From each angle a new voice spoke, Dhanis head began to spin. Data padds were passed to her left right and centre. Information, reports, specifications completed, repair requests were all thrown at her within the space of three minuets. Dhani took a deep breath as she fazed them out, centring her mind she took all the reports and nodded intently at each face around her, all of which blurred into the one before.

Closing her eyes she tried to refocus. She jumped slightly as she felt a hand grab her shoulder. Without even turning around she knew who it was. Slowly her hand reached up and grasped his fingers, lightly stroking them with her own. She drew a surprising amount of strength from him.

“Chief, orders.” It was a whisper beneath the increasing racket reminding Dhani what

she had to do, she nodded to her self drawing up the strength. She let out a slow breath and opened her eyes. Looking around at all the chattering faces around her she began to retune into them and realised that they were all asking her questions.

Clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention she took several steps forward and out of the crowd. A hush enveloped engineering as they all stopped bombarding her for a moment.

“Right.” She began taking yet another deep breath, “I need four teams.” She turned to Jason, “I want you to head them up. We are installing back-up shield generators.” She told him, “We need two for the nacelles, one for engineering and one for the bridge.” She handed him a data padd with the specifications and instructions,

“As for the rest of you there are a million and one things to do……so lets get to work shall we.” She breezed past the rest of the questions and headed straight for Suders office.

It was like an oasis in the middle of the desert. As the doors closed shut behind her she sunk to the floor. Her body was tired and her mind was feeling the effects; lack of concentration and motivation. Usually she meditated for several hours each day it was a substitute for sleep. It seemed that nothing else worked, she had tried every sedative in the book and had now given up on sleep altogether. The mediation kept her focused and her body rested. And right now she could really use some.

Scraping herself off the floor she took at seat at Suders desk, making sure she didn’t move a thing, and put her feet up. The chair was comfortable and all she longed for was sleep, but knowing that it wouldn’t come, it would never come, she idly picked up a data padd instead and began to thumb through it.

It was a crew member transfer manifest, the bio of the newest addition to engineering; Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell. Dhani scanned through it, yet another Betaziod she mused. If a full Betazoid like Ethan couldn’t penetrate her well constructed fire wall she doubted that this ensign would, but still she would reinforce it, just incase. If Lieutenant Grey was paranoid that they could read her mind and find out her darkest secrets Dhani was more than paranoid! She carried on reading; Naranda spoke a bit of Klingon, means that I’ll have to stop swearing in Klingon Dhani thought, and start doing it in Trill. She took a brief look at her service record. She had a distinguished service citation from the Sakarian fighting force. Dhani changed position, taking her feet of the desk and activated the computer and typed into the database search; ‘Sakarian Fighting Force’. She hadn’t heard of them before and thought it prudent to find out a little about them; it would give her something to talk about upon meeting this ensign.

As the data base flashed up with the information she terminated its search, what was the point? They could strike up a conversation? Become friends? Maybe go out to dinner? With that thought her mind wandered. Michael. Michael McDowell. His face floated through her mind. She missed him terribly. He was the one person that she trusted, that she could spend a comfortable silence with. Why did he have to go? The only consolation she had was that he was alive, out there somewhere….. but Ahdjiia. Ahdjiia was the first friend she had met, at the bar on Lanjep. She had met Kallus and Michael there too. Her face fell as she thought of the two of them.

Ahdjiia had helped her though the bad times, she had sat with her in the brig, she made no judgment, just listened and held her as she cried and tried to make sense of what was going on. She had been a rock, her rock. A tear slipped down Dhanis cheek as she remembered that awful day/night.

****~****

As the room emptied Dhani slipped in and stole a moment alone with Ahdjiia. She had been laid to rest in the standard Federation way, in a torpedo tube, with the UFP flag adorning it.

Dhanis hand grazed the smooth casing as if she were stroking her friends hair. A lump stuck in her throat. It was so human; to stand over the coffin and talk to the corpse lying in it as if it could hear them. Dhani knew that wasn’t the case. Ahdjiia was dead.

Dhani would never be able to just knock on her door for a friendly chat. Never be able to go out for a drink. She would never have a friendly ear in the brig again.

Sadlin would spend each night alone. No matter who was with him, what joys his son would give him, there would always be that void. That black hole of pain and despair that no one could fill. Dhani knew all too well about that after loosing Chang, her fiancé. You tried not to think about them, tried to continue with your own life, but still in the dark when you were alone… it cut, deeper than any blade. And you wondered if it would ever stop bleeding; ever stop hurting, if it would ever heel….

Ahdjiia would never see her son. Never be able to watch him grow, never see the man that he would turn into. Never see him take his first steps or hear him laugh for the first time or…..

And she could never hear their plea for her to return.

Dhani stood there choking on her own words.

“Ahdjiia…..” she couldn’t, this was so dammed Terran. She cursed herself, turning her back to the coffin she walked to the nearest window and gazed out to the stars beyond.

“I can’t say good bye to you. It’s not your time.” She said, “There is so much for you to do still. There is so much to say.” She stood at the window, wondering how she could say these things that she felt. Questioning the universe as to how it could be so cruel. Wondering how her son would cope without his mother and her husband without his beloved wife. Ahdjiia would have made a fabulous mother, Dhani knew it.

She couldn’t keep the tears from falling anymore and she couldn’t block the emotions either. She ran to the coffin and threw her arms around it, “Ahdjiia, you were my friend.” She cried out, “You helped me through so much. You were the kindest person I’ve ever met.” Her tears dripped off her nose and on to the tube, “I miss you so much.” She hugged the torpedo tube till she thought she’d dented it, staying in the one sided embrace crying harder and harder.

“I love you.” she croaked out through her sobs.

“This isn’t good bye.” She said at last standing up, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand, “I’ll see you again.” She said leaning down and kissing tube “In another life.”

Her fingers lingered on the tube, tracing a line down it as she walked away, her heart breaking.

***~***

The door to the office chimed and Dhani realised that she was crying. Her cheeks stung from the continuous flow of tears and her nose was dripping. Wiping her face franticly she called for whoever it was to enter.

“Chief?” Lieutenant Jiiles called out as he entered.

It was surprising how quickly Dhani got used to being called that.

“Yeah?” she replied raising the data padd to cover as much of her face as possible.

Jiiles hesitated for a moment, “Er, those simulations?” he half questioned.

Dhani looked at him through her red puffy eyes, a frown of confusion crossing her face, “Oh,” she said remembering her eyes growing wide, “Sure I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Is everything alright?” he asked, lines of concern wrinkling his blue skin.

Dhani stood up, glancing down at the padd for a moment; Ensign Sol Roswell, engineer, 25 year old female Betazoid human hybrid. She looked at the picture of the young woman that she would be working along side, ‘she’s just an engineer.’ She thought, ‘we will only work together, nothing else. Nothing more. And that’s close enough.’ Dhani thought as she tossed the padd aside.

“Everything is fine with me Lieutenant. How about you?” she replied as she strode out of the office.

Jiiles stood in the doorway as Eshe breezed past him, he wished that she didn’t pretend with him, she didn’t have to be strong all the time. Hell he had seen her at her lowest, she had gone to him when she was at her lowest, to him of all people. And now she acted like it never happened, he just wished that she would notice him, just once.

“I’m just great.” he replied to the empty room.

((OOC: For all fighter jocks out there, we are going out do to a little recon on the enemy base. This includes Vanguard and Rogue Squadrons. Please pair up and perform a standard search pattern. I'll get more details from Pat and Ian on what we're going to find and forward it on :) - Laurel))

---

"A Little Recon"

by
Flight Officer Jasmine "Jazz" Heloi
Vanguard Squadron Exec

A slight breeze teased her hair as Jasmine Heloi stood at the base of her fighter. Most of the pilots of Vanguard Squadron stood in a loose ring around her as she gave out last minute instructions. She had been given orders for the squadron to take flight and scout their destination. The squadron would be playing a deadly cat and mouse game with their enemies, seeking out surprises, dangers, and above all else enemy positions.

The fighters from Vanguard and Rogue Squadrons would be part of the recon mission to the assumed enemy base locations. Splitting into pairs, each team would take responsibility for a certain grid of space surrounding the planetary target. Brief communication spurts of status 'okay', 'nothing', etcetera would be relayed through probes that one fighter would drop at the entrance to the target system. Any stray frequency could allow enemies to locate their fighters, so she was making certain each pilot knew the dangers.

"You all have your assigned grids. Remember, I don't want any stunts out there. We're going in, getting Intel, and reporting back. Our orders are not to engage the enemy unless we're attacked first. I'm on channel one, set your receivers to that frequency. Save for brief broadcasts, we will be on communications silence," Jasmine instructed the others, regarding each with a thoughtful gaze. "If there're no questions, let's get rolling."

Since there were none, Jasmine climbed into her fighter and began standard pre-flight checks. After her earlier mishap with her avionics system, her fighter had been upgraded to a more stable system. Her rather scathing review of the other avionics system had been making it's way up the chain of command. The last she had heard was that the contractor was probably going to be facing sanctions.

With her pre-flight complete, Jazz confirmed the status of the other fighter pilots and the status of their clearance to leave with the deck chief. Once all were confirmed, she gave the order for departure. Without Corran in the lead, she took the head of the standard triangle attack wedge. For the first leg of their journey, they would maintain that standard formation before breaking off into their fighter pairs.

Off to their starboard, the fighters from Rogue Squadron were forming up beside them. Once sufficient clearance was gained from the bulks of the Galaxy, the Miranda, and the planet Breen's gravity shadow, Heloi gave the order to jump to warp.

The eerie otherworld of warp was over all too soon as the fighters burst out of warp in a flurry of Cherenkov radiation. Tyten formed up on her wing as the others broke off into pairs. Enemy space lay before her, and with a brief grin off to her side - a grin that Tyten could not see through the glare shield - she sent her fighter gliding into the clutter of the space surrounding the target planet. Like most things in life, this was definitely a lot more fun than being cooped up in a Breen holding cell.

((OOC: The poem found below was borrowed from Diane Carey's wonderful Star Trek novel "Dreadnought." I'm doing a little experimentation with this post, so if it seems a little strange or off-kilter from what you normally see from me that's why :) -Laurel))

"Hope"

by Cmdr. Jerri Wolfson
Chief Engineer,
USS Miranda

[ Sickbay ]

The tense calm that had settled over the ship belied the fear that all felt at the realization that it seemed that justice had abandoned them. On the planet, slowly spinning beneath the mighty starship, her Captain and several senior officers were held captive to await the futures that depended solely upon the actions of the Miranda and Galaxy. The fates of those officers rested on a knife's edge as they were all caught between a rock and a hard place. However, none of these considerations dwelt in the mind of Cmdr. Jerri Wolfson as she held herself on the threshold of Sickbay.

Instead, her thoughts rested on the fate of her old friend who rested on his own knife's blade  between life and death. A soft breath escaped her lips as she ventured the rest of the way inside, and she was struck by how ironic it was to walk through those doors without some sort of malady or injury driving her to seek the help of the medical staff. She was completely healthy, if a little overworked, while Brex  her breath caught on that thought  lay in the seemingly permanent state of non-awareness that characterized a coma. Jerri should be in any one of a hundred places, putting out fires, fixing systems, holding the ship togetherbut now, in this time of repair, decision making, and final courses of action, she stole a few minutes of time for herself. It was not to spend time with Jack, nor to bemoan the fate of the universe, but instead to visit a friend, no friends, who lay perched on the threshold of death's door.

The sounds of Sickbay seemed to be muffled as she made her way past the privacy screens to one of the few areas that was essentially a private ward for those whose injuries required other forms of attention. In this area lay two senior officers, Taalis, with whom she shared a certain bond born from the time when they traded bodies, and Brex. How she hated the fates that led them both to this place! They should both be on the bridge, carrying on as they always hadas they always *should.* This seemed a travesty to see such vibrant people reduced to the equivalent of shells that breathed...but were not *them.*

"I'm so sorry," she began in the silence of the room that was filled only by the soft beeping of the sensors and the faint rasp of breaths drawn through tired lungs. What was she apologizing for? Perhaps it was that she stood whole before them or because of some action on her part that she could have taken to have spared them their injuries. She did not know, nor did Jerri care to analyze the thought as she continued speaking, "I wish you could both be awake to see what is happening. I wish you both could help...But that's the irony of life isn't it? I wish. What if? Don't give up...just, don't. You both have so much living left to do...don't let them win. Just...don't."

Jerri could say no more as she bowed her head in silent remembrance. Her few precious moments of time were soon to be expired, so she stepped forward to give Brex's hand a squeeze, "Feel that, Brex? That's life...just keep holding onto it."

She relinquished his hand to turn towards Taalis. With her, she did not touch, nor did she say anything. Instead she sent a prayer along the mental winds where she hoped someone might hear it. Where there is life, there is hope.

The Chief Engineer sighed softly and stepped away, leaving the two still forms in their silent slumber. There were still a myriad of things to do before the Miranda went to warp, before they faced the enemy once more. She could only hope that Taalis and Brex, where ever their consciousnesses might be, were watching over them.

A memory of a poem played through her mind as she left Sickbay, one which she felt oddly poignant.

"This is the sixth element,
time crossing time
until all stands still
and we may think.
Study, but touch.
Learn, and later know.
Tame the craggy agonies of toil's time.
Memory and memoring comes late,
comes shattery, scattery.
When all is done, it is not
to die...
it is to die well."

No, Jerri corrected that ancient Vulcan scholar, it is not to *die.* It is to *live.*

"Into The Unknown"

Major Wes Hammond,
Rogue Squadron CO/Rogue 1
Flight Officer Pikarr Ekrayn,
Flight Officer/Rogue 2

****

Tactical Fighter Bay,
Deck 34,
USS Miranda-B

Wes Hammond strapped himself into his seat, thankful that as soon as he gave the order he'd be back in space. He'd missed the last battle because somebody had thought he'd make a good spy, or diplomat, or both. Whatever the case, he'd been forced to sit that one out, trying to escape the Breen lead vessel, Gravnor, along with Jasmine Heloi.

Hopefully he wouldn't be going on any more of those missions any time soon. He couldn't stand being away from the action. The thrill of flying was what he lived for, though you probably couldn't say the same thing of his wing-Bajoran, Pikarr Ekrayn.

Ekrayn was a nice girl and a good pilot, Wes thought, but her nerves were always on end. He'd walked up behind her when she'd been working on her fighter the previous day. When he tapped he on the shoulder, she was startled, and cracked her head on the wing, blacking out for a good five minutes.

"Phoenix to Squadron," he said, initiating the appropriate comm chanel, "Sound off in order." After listening to the chorus of green lights and ready pilots, he keyed the comm again.

"Our goal will be a standard grid by grid reconnaisance patrol," Hammond said, using his hands to key wingpairs into open sectors of unknown space. "Be wary of Breen, Hydran, and T'Kith'Kin patrols. They're probably not going to take too kindly to us flying around in what all three of them consider to be their airspace, no matter whose side they're on."

Sending the information, he continued, "I'm sending you your sector assignments. Chances are we should all be fine out there, but don't overlook anything. The smallest detail could be vital, since we don't know too much about this sector."

"Now then, the details. Flight Officer Heloi and I are on channel one. Set your frequencies. Also, our orders are not to attack, but to report back immediately if you encounter hostiles. Acknowledge."

After the chorus finished again, Wes gave the order that he'd desired in the first place.

"Launch."

Quickly bringing his fighter up and engaging the impulse engines, he rocketed out of the fighter bay, Pikarr hot on his six.

"Phoenix to Hasperat, we have Grid 37 all to our lonesome. My nav-comp is telling me we have a two hour flight at full impulse," Wes said, hauling the yoke around to point his fighter in the right direction. He listened as Jazz gave her orders and smiled. He really did like that girl.

Over the open comm, he could hear Pikarr groaning. She hated her callsign, Hasperat. It had been a 'gift' from the training squadron she'd been a part of, the Starhawks. Wes had been the squadron's CO, so naturally the affectionate, if irritating nickname had come with her to Miranda. And a two hour flight? Ugh.

"Well, Pikarr, we've got a long ways to ride. Why don't you tell me a story..."

“There is no light at the end of the tunnel”

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe - Engineer

**Holodeck USS Galaxy**

“No, no, no!”

Dhanis fists met the consol hard as she stared up at the readouts.

“This can’t be right….. computer, reset simulation.”

Suder had reclaimed Engineering about half an hour ago, taking a huge weight off Dhanis shoulders. She had devoted her attention since to the shield modifications but it wasn’t going as well as she would have hoped. Every time she ran the simulations to create a second shield system capable of diverting energy weapons, the ship blew up. The amount of power needed to sustain it was too much for the warp core to handle. Raking her hand through her hair she sat and stared at the results. It triggered unwelcome memories. Sighing she blocked them out and sat back. It would work, she knew it could, she just had to find the right calculations.

Grabbing her mug of tea she took a sip. And spat it back out in the mug, “Too cold” she murmured as she set it back down. She rested her head on the back of the chair and looked up at the ceiling for inspiration. If she looked at it hard enough she might be able to see the answer written in the bulkhead.

Sighing she pushed herself away from the desk as if it repulsed her and stood up. Grabbing her mug she returned it to the replicator and ordered another.

Picking up the fresh cup she looked into it, the rising steam moistened her face. She clasped her naturally cold hands around it and felt the heat flow through her fingers to her palms and up her arms to the rest her body.

She began to stride around letting the blood flow back into her legs,

“Computer,” she called out, “calculate the energy output needed to sustain this shield system. Now reset the simulation to include this data.”

As the simulation replayed Dhanis eyes lit up. It worked! The only problem was the ship didn’t have anything like that amount of power spare to put into the shields. But if it did, it would work. The next hurdle would be to find that power.

“Computer new simulation…..”

She spent another hour cutting corners, trying to shut down as many non essential systems as possible to find that extra power. She even took into account the extra power left over from the saucer separation, but there wasn’t enough.

But if they had the extra power, then it would work. That was the only consolation she had after three and a half hours work. Shutting down the simulations she swallowed her pride, stuck her tail between her legs and went to find Suder. But she would do that after she got an update on the installation of the back up shield generators. After that she would find something else pressing to do and so on. Maybe she could put off that debriefing until the end of time…. Smoothing her hair she grabbed her tool kit and left the Hollodeck.

OOC: Takes place before we launch.

"Twin Stars" - Part 1

Major Wes 'Phoenix' Hammond,
Rogue Squadron CO/Rogue One

Pilot Cole 'Wraith' Slaton,
Flight Officer/Rogue Twelve

****

Hammond's Office,
Deck 34,
Tactical Fighter Bay

Wes walked into his office. It had been a few hours since he had returned to the Miranda from the Galaxy, which had beemed them off just before the Gravnor's destruction. Sparing a glance over his shoulder, back into the fighter bay he'd just stepped out of. Behind him, Sergeant Thomas was leading her crew in an inspection of his fighter, preping it for the combat he knew would come.

He was greatful for the dedicated ground crew that had been formed when the SFPC and the SFMC Fighter Corps had been combined into the Starfleet Starfighter Corps. Before, it had been flight control's job to handle the fighters, and Wes had never really found that fact comforting.

Taking off his flight jacket, he dropped it on the futon that sat along one wall of his office. Rounding the desk, he slumped into the chair and rubbed his left arm, just above the elbow, where it had been broken in the fight with the Borg in the Gamma Quadrant. He was fairly sure that it had been healed properly, but sometimes the 'phantom pain' was a hinderance.

~Time to get down to business. Two new pilots to talk to after that last fight,~ Wes thought. It was frustrating that he'd been away from the squadron during the all important action against the T'Kith'Kin Hive. Truthfully, he was proud of Joral's handling of the situation. The man was good, there was no doubt about it, but he needed more self confidence. Maybe leading for one battle had helped.

Tapping his commbadge, Wes said, "Hammond to Slaton. Report to my office as soon as possible." Taking a moment, Wes glanced over Cole Slaton's long and checkered career. So this was Captain Slaton from Twin Star Squadron. Wes grinned. He knew a girl who flew with the Twin Stars, and he'd heard a little about the incident with the Breen. Today's fight had probably been a little unsettling for Slaton, fighting alongside Breen pilots. He'd have to ask.

Cole was resting in the Pilot's Lounge enjoying a 'small' game of poker with some of the other pilots, unwinding. In this case, the word small was used lightly, in the pot was a considerable one and it was slowly growing in size. Only three were left in and Cole was one of them, the four other players had folded close to the beginning after seeing the second set of cards they were given. Groaning with annoyance, the next had folded when the bets were increased and the last followed soon after.

Cole glanced down at his cards smiling inwardly, a full house. They'd have to pull somekind of shit to get him to back down, though truth be told he'd actually won more on bluffs than he'd ever with a real hand.

"What'll it be?" James asked opposite him. Cole's eyes flickered up from his cards for a brief second before returning the five cards in his hand, it was an old trick making everyone believe you were thinking about pulling out. It only worked on rookies.

"I'll call..." Cole muttered throwing the last of the money in the large pile in the centre of the table. Each of them placed their cards down, one had been bluffing - which Cole had suspected - the other had a good hand and was about to collect the pot with a winning smile on his face when Cole placed his on the deck. To watch that smile vanish was priceless.

"Son-of-a---" thankfully the Major's announcement came through Cole's commbadge and whatever James had said went unheard, though many had a fair guess how it ended.

"My thanks, gentlemen, anytime you want to be relieved of more give me a call," Cole didn't like show-offs, people who rub it in your face when they've won. There's nothing like a sore loser, but an ass-of-a winner was almost as bad. "A drink on me..." Cole tossed one of the chips in the air, allowing it to hit the surface of the table rolling towards the edge before James slammed his hand over it. He didn't know how urgent the Major wanted to see him so he didn't stop and place his winnings in his locker but instead headed in the opposite direction.

Within a few seconds, he was standing outside Major Hammond's office door, and he had a feeling he knew what this was about, losing his wingman in the last encounter with the Breen. He hated losing men and those he was responsible for was worse. Probably why he preferred the life of being just another pilot, just another soldier. He was just here to fight, nothing more, nothing less. He pressed the chime announcing his presence and when he heard the command to enter the door hissed open and he stepped through.

"Cole Slaton reporting as order, sir."

"Have a seat, Cole," Hammond said, sitting up on the futon. He didn't like sitting behind the desk during these interviews. It was just a little too intimidating, and he remembered being the Cadet on the other side of Major Krellson's desk when he'd first started flying combat missions.

"Welcome to Rogue Squadron," the Irishman started out, extending his hand to the other pilot, "As you know, we're considered to be the best squadron in the Starfighter Corps, and from your record, you're clearly up to the task. So lets talk. I like to get to know all of my pilots. First, do you have any questions for me?"

Cole nodded taking the offered hand. "Frankly I was greatly surprised I even got this assignment, I wasn't on the best side of those higher-up the food chain, and a guy with my record... I suppose the most important question is... why did you accept me?"

Wes had the answer to that one ready. It was a common question among young pilots in the more prestigous squadrons. Rogues, Vanguards, Phoenixes. They all wanted to know why you thought they were special.

"Because I believe that everyone deserves a second chance," Wes said, then paused before adding, "And I know a young woman who flies with the Twin Stars, Flight Officer Kate Sullivan. She said you were a decent enough sort."

"Truthfully, the higher ups really don't have too much to do with who gets into this squadron and who doesn't," Hammond said, "It's by invitation only. So, what I need to know... and I'm sure you've been waiting for this one, is what actually happened with the Twin Stars."

Cole nodded slightly as he leaned back on the sofa staring off in front of him. His eyes, and mind, were far from the office he was sitting in. I had been wondering when that would come around... I was surprised it took this long. He glanced at the Major for a brief moment before going into his tale. Most believe it began when we were given the patrol assignment, but in fact that wasnt the case. It began weeks before, when I found myself waking up beside a rather attractive blonde. Little did I know the consequences of what we had done that night.

Wes chuckled. He'd been there... too many times to count. Sometimes women were more trouble than they were worth. But that brought to mind Jasmine, which made him smile. She was worth it.

****

Two Months Previous,
USS Rickenbacker,
Breen Border Patrol

I dont fucking believe it! Cole was looking at the duty roster for the coming week and lo and behold his name was at the top of the list for the shitty patrol alone the Breen border, a rookie could fly it blindfolded with both arms tied behind his back. It almost like he doesnt like us...

No... not us... Kail interrupted with a faint, half-hearted smile as he glanced from the board to his friend. You, he doesnt like you. I'm just caught in the cross fire ever since you slept with his niece. The same niece he almost considers his own daughter since his brother was killed. Hes been looking after her. The same niece who everyone knows about and stays away from... The same---

Hey! Im a victim here just like you...

Bullshit...

Cole was trying his best to look innocent, the truth was he had known who she was, hed been too pissed on blood wine and whiskey to care at the time and boy did they have a good time. He tried suppressing the smile that came through. Hey! Dont you walk away from me! Cole called after Kail who was walking away to the Fighter Bay. Of course, Kail hadnt believed a word that he hadnt known who she was. He knew Cole far too well for the El-Aurians liking. Im innocent here! Do you hear me!? Hey!

You havent been innocent since--- whatever the young pilot was about to say was suddenly and effectively cut off by the door closing behind him. Cole, shaking his head now with a smile in full force, followed him, entering the Fighter Bay.

The two fighters exploded out through the open doorway like bullets from a pistol instantly peeling off to the right heading towards the demilitarised zone, a small strip of space in between Breen and Federation territory that came about at the end of the Dominion War. Cole was out front with Kail following slightly behind off to the right, with their afterburners at full they headed towards Selas IV, a large planet that had a large asteroid belt trapped in its gravitational pull. Those systems were common in the region. The belt cut through the system and yet moved around the planet as it past pulling asteroids away and throwing them back into the belt, it was a sight to behold. The planet marked the edge of Federation space, on the other side of the asteroid belt was the demilitarised zone where no ship could venture, unless detecting a distress call.

It was a time of great unrest between the Breen and Federation, many on both sides had not put the past behind them as war was something very hard to forget and forgive. Cole was no different, the Dominion War had been a milestone in his life, watching friends dying around him exploding as their fighters were hit. It was senseless but then when was it ever different.

Having fun yet? Cole asked glancing over to his wingman as he came forward. He saw Kail lifting his left hand up to the canopy sticking his finger up at him causing Cole to laugh.

That answer your question? he asked. Cole didnt have time to come up with a counter to what Kail had said as warning sirens sounded all around him and red lights flashed on and off. Within a matter of seconds it went from calm and peaceful to chaos. They were being targeted! Instincts took over and Cole rolled his fighter just as green energy pulses shot past his fighter.

We are under attack! I repeat were being engaged! Kail bellowed through the intercom which was instantly picked up by the command staff onboard the carrier, but they were still five minutes from where Cole and his wingman were patrolling. Kail grabbed the stick trying to keep up with Cole's evading manoeuvres, the man was a natural and with years of experience Kail was finding it increasingly difficult to stay with him and keep and eye on the Breen coming at them. Where the hell did they come from?!

Cole didnt need to look to know where the Breen were, hed had this gift since he knew how to fly, it was impossible to describe, a sixth sense? He knew about the El-Aurians understanding of the universe and this gave them unique senses, whatever this gift was he was glad he had it for it had saved his life on more than one occasion in his long history. They must have been waiting in the asteroid belt!

OOC: This happens just before the launch.

"Twin Stars" - Part 2

Major Wes Hammond,
Rogue Squadron CO/Rogue 1

Pilot Cole Slaton,
Flight Officer/Rogue 12

****

Hammond's Office,
Deck 34,
Tactical Fighter Bay

Cole glanced at the major sitting beside him. They had been waiting in the asteroid belt. They had been lying in wait for the next patrol to come with only life support and passive sensors online, our sensors didnt pick them up until it was too late. There was bitterness in Coles voice, it still left a bad taste in his mouth when speaking about it.

"The Breen, if anything, are a pack of sneaky rat bastards. But surely they had a reason for escalating? Did you ever find out? Was it some kind of diversion?" Hammond asked. He sighed. The younger pilots were always the ones who didn't come back from patrol. "The Breen generally don't just swallow up patrols without some measure of gain."

Cole nodded slowly. "We found out later they'd sent a small task force to take out an outpost on the border, our carrier was detained long enough for them to hit the outpost and leave. A hundred and forty two were killed, seven were injured and managed to last out until ww arrived though by then it was too late. I was out cold in the med-bay undergoing surgery at the time, I was told by my C.O. when I woke."

Hammond nodded gravely, "Yeah, I remember hearing about that. Research Outpost D'Karr. The Sorveni are rebuilding it, with some help from Starfleet Security. Go on."

****

Two Months Previous,
USS Rickenbacker,
Breen Border Patrol

"Evasive!" Cole screamed yanking hard on the control stick slamming his hand against the throlle leaver kicking her into afterburner once again. There was no time for thinking, no time to initiate set attack or defence patterns like on starships, everything was played out using experience and instincts, if you think you die. Kail was right behind him swerving left and right spinning around trying to lose the bastards firing on them, there were four fighters in pursuit and they seemed determined to end Cole and Kail's existence.

Cole knew their best chance of survival lay in getting low and fast into the atmosphere of Selas IV and with their afterburners they were faster than the Breen who went with larger more powerful fighters which gave the Starfleet pilots an edge and any edge in any battle were welcomed with open arms. A green energy pulse flashed past his canopy bouncing off his shields, it was a good think the klingons found a way to neutralise the Breen's dampening weapons otherwise this would have been a very short skirmish, if the fighters in fact had the dampening weapons.

They hurtled down towards the surface of the planet like spears, the four Breens were still in hot pursuit firing on them without regard for anything apart from the kill, the energy pulses that missed slammed into the ground below exploding on impact. Cole headed straight for the canyon below just missing the wall by a hare's breath, Kail as always was right behind following Cole's example just as more pulses came towards them hitting the canyon spilling clouds of dust and rock hiding the two fighters from view.

As Cole had planned, or foreseen, two fighters entered the canyon following after them. One didn't see a sharp turning before it was too late and ploughed into the canyon wall exploding, the initial blast threw a shockwave out cutting through the soft rock of the canyon like a knife through butter. The second was destroyed by Cole firing into an overhanging ridge, Cole had allowed Kail to go forward so the young pilot was safe when Cole fired, the El-Aurian flew under falling ridge and cloud of dust emerging on the other side. There was a brief moment where Cole had thought he'd missed before the canyon was light up by a second explosion, the green flames from the fighter licked out across the canyon walls moving with its own mind and murderous intent.

Using the few moments of confusion they had earned Cole and Kail punched their fighters up out of the planet's atmosphere heading through the asteroids caught in Selas IV's gravitational pull before heading out into the dangerous asteroid belt. He could see the spinning rocks slamming into each other breaking into small fragments, it was utter chaos and though the shields can withstand the smaller impacts they were no match for the larger asteroids.

****

Hammond's Office,
Deck 34,
Tactical Fighter Bay

Cole looked at the major smiling slightly as he turned away. "I'm sure you know the rest, its all on file from the hearing and my subsequent reduction in rank."

"I do," Wes said, nodding. Talking about getting shot down was always hard, especially for people who considered themselves naturals. But in this case he needed to hear it from the other pilot, to know that he could deal with it. There really wasn't any room for somebody who was having a hard time coping in a fighter squadron. "But I need to hear it from your perspective. And I should mention that the Breen don't mount dampening weapons on thier fighters. The hardware is too big to be effectively mounted on anything short of a Type III Bomber."

Cole nodded. "I had a long time to think about that when I came too in sickbay."

****

Two Months Previous,
USS Rickenbacker,
Breen Border Patrol

They swerved left and right dodging both the incoming fire from the two Breen fighters hot on their tail and the asteroids all around them, it was a hard desicion to make but he had to make it or they were doomed. It meant breaking one of the most important rules of being a fighter pilot 'never leave your wingman!'

"Kail, on the count of three we're going to split, we'll have a better chance..." he waited for an argument from Kail, but it never came.

The Breen fighter on his tail managed a lucky shot slamming into Kail's rear cutting into one of the engines, before it blew Kail shut the engine down pulling hard on the stick trying to out manoeuvre the fighter, but it was a losing battle. Cole didn't wait his thumb pressing the red button on the control stick, two mini-torps were instantly fired from the fighter before crossing over one another as they peeled around an asteroid retracing their flight path. The torpedoes flashed past Cole's fighter bathing the cockpit in their red light before vanishing from sight.

The mini-torps split as soon as their targets came within range exploding on impacting with their sheilding, the explosions engulfed Kail's fighter for a brief moment before bursting through the flames that licked out through space, asteroids were thrown outwards as the fighters exploded only to slam into their neighbours.

"Cole! A little help here!" Kail called out rocking the throttle lever back and forth while pressing the relight button, but there was nothing, not even the spark of the ignitors, he was dead in the water but with a current pushing him towards an asteroid. "Cole! Now would be a good time!"

=/\= "Cole this is Rickenbacker, you will turn return immediately, priority one!" =/\= Cole ignored the transmission his hand firmly gripping the throttle pushing it slowly forward increasing his speed as he pulled up and around another asteroid just before a second slammed into it, debris was thrown out hitting Cole's shielding bouncing off shaking the El-Aurian within. =/\= "Slaton do you read. We have a priority one! Return to Rickenbacker now!" =/\=

Before they repeated themselves for a third time Cole flicked the switch cutting them off, he flew his fighter straight towards Kail and like an arrow struck his target, the collision ripped through Cole's fighter and his right wing caught the asteroid Kail was about to collide with, the wing spun out before imbedding itself in the soft rock of an asteroid. Kail was thrown clear of the asteroid belt finding himself in the dead of space, Cole however had asteroid after asteroid slamming into his fighter with warning sirens threatening to deafen him.

How he managed to reach the ejection button he still didn't know, but he did and was fired clear, a split second after the canopy section was ejected from the fighter an hunk of rock slammed into its side tearing through into the power core, the explosion slammed into Cole tossing him around like a rag doll.

****

Hammond's Office,
Deck 34,
Tactical Fighter Bay

"I woke up in sickbay two days later," Cole said glancing at the major. "The rest, as they say, is history."

Hammond nodded thoughtfully. "I can promise you this. You won't get any orders like that one from our tactical arch. Chances are we'd sooner drop a runabout and leave it to pick you and your wing up. So, let's put it this way. You trust me to give good orders, and I'll trust you to follow them. For now, you're flying wing to Major St. Melisande, but if you stick with it and prove that you're still a reliable pilot, then chances are that I'll give you your own wingpair."

"I won't let you down sir..." Cole replied nodding his head.

"Of course not," Wes nodded. The kid was determined, and that was enough for him. Not that Slaton was really a 'kid' as far as age was concerned, but to Wes, the junior officer was still a little green, but would gain his seasoning in time. "You can go, Cole. I'll see you on the flight deck."

"Aye, sir."

"The Great Escape" part I

Principal Characters

Captain Elaithin Jii
Legate Kylar Curran
Legate Abigail Pryce-Randall
Counselor Karyn Dallas
Commander Arel Smith
Counselor Navarre Shinta
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Counselor Ammalyn Lywhyn
Lieutenant Cole Cantrell
Ensign Zeke Wikkins

****

Breen Diplomatic Services Building
Holding Cells

Captain Elaithin Jii tossed his Chief of Security a wry smile as she opened the door to the cell containing him and Counselor Dallas. "Arel, remind me to put you in for a raise."

"Yes, Sir," Arel said without any trace of humor.

He gave an appraising eye to Shinta, who was being supported by the Miranda's Security Chief. "Shinta, can you walk?"

"When somebody continues to lend me a hand." She tried to smile more confidently then she felt. The team didn't need an invalid right now; she probably could keep going for a while longer just on adrenalin.

"Good to hear," Jii replied, as the party gathered in the common area to get their bearings.

Further response was cut off by the sudden explosive slam of air evacuating out into the frozen sky of Breen from the direction of the main entrance for a moment before the automatic safety fields sealed the breach. Following the hum of the field's activation there was silence for a moment, and then a stark white figure completely covered in layered jagged sheets and spines of steaming frozen methane stepped slowly into the room, methane falling and boiling off it with each step to reveal the form of Victor Krieghoff beneath it.

He took four steps, shook himself in a spray of boiling methane-ice, and opened his eyes as he took a deep gulp of air. "I had trouble with the door, sir," he offered by way of explanation as he coughed a spray of frozen methane out of his mouth, frowned, and took another gulp of air. He reached into a container held in his left hand and produced a Breen phaser that he offered to Jii.

The Captain accepted the weapon Kreighoff handed him, successfully (he hoped) hiding his reaction to the smell of the boiling methane and the... feel of Death that surrounded the man like a cloud of bad perfume. The two Security officers had secured a number of Breen weapons, and now passed them out to every member of the group of escapees, with the exception of the unconscious Thomas. "Legate Curran." he noted with a nod. "Good to see you back in one piece."

The Kelvan responded with a swirl of tentacles that waved about in a maelstrom of ebon black.

The Bajoran gave a laughing snort at that, and rotated his stiff shoulder slightly. He had absolutely no clue what the Legate was trying to communicate in it's.. his.. present form. In the absence of verification, he assumed a positive. "Allright. Mister Wikkins, please be so kind as to carry Commander Thomas. I'm rather glad he was so drunk, it was much simpler to have him unconsious this entire time than to deal with him. his voice sets my teeth on edge. Mister Kreighoff, were you successful in locating us a path to a transporter room?"

"Yes, sir. I set the Breen security station transporter to scan for, and beam away anyone with a Breen recall transponder that comes into range, but there were at least two guards without them at the transport chamber. They'll need to be dealt with."

"Noted." the Captain replied. "Allright. We deal with them when we get there. The ships aren't in orbit anymore, so we go with our alternative departure route. The embassy has three runabouts. It's clear now that the Breen are no longer interested in any sort of peaceful negotiations, no matter what pretenses may have been used to get us here."

"But, Captain, maybe this would be a perfect time to try and negotiate some sort of cease fire. There is no reason to just throw everything away, just because the situation has changed. " Abigail looked around at the expressions on the others' faces. "Well, I admit that it would be slightly hard to form some sort of lasting peace with a people that are trying to kill you, and that only brought you down to their planet in order to do that, but still. We shouldn't just abandon what we were sent here to do. This would be the most oppurtune time, as well as trying our hardest to avoid the all-out war the you lot seem so damned intent on." Abigail replied, her voice rasing slightly at the end. She pushed a lock of her ahir back behind her ear that had fallen from the French twist her hair had been in.

"Our priorities have changed, Legate." He replied, drawing up to face the human woman. He had to confess an admiration for her dedication - the Breen had clearly tortured her as well as many of the others, and it was a profound insight into her character that she was still will to talk peace after that. "And don't try to throw your weight around. We're no longer in a diplomatic situation, you and Legate Curran are no longer in charge of this mission."

Abigail tried to say something, an outraged look on her face, but the captain cut her off again. "Look - I'm sorry if that's harsh, truly I am, but I don't want any confusion. My priority is now to get every Federation citizen off of this planet intact, and then to figure out what's really going on here. Does anyone have a problem with that?"

Shinta nodded her agreement. She wouldn't have only problem taking out a few of these Breen.

"Yes, I have a problem with that, Captain. I think that we are unfairly abandoning what we were sent here to do. Even if it doesn't do us any good, it might help getting us off this planet without having to shoot our way out. Damn it, Captain, not everything has to be the O.K. Corall." She knew that she was butting her head against a brick wall, but she couldn't give in without giving it everything she had. She hadn't been raised to give up as soon as something stopped going her way. This situation was still salvageable, if the Captain would just give her a chance.

"Protest duly noted, Legate. If you could have found a Breen willing to stop shooting at us long enough to get a word in edgewise, then that just might have been an alternative. Unfortunately, it's hard to talk to someone when the shots are flyingr. Anything else?" Jii said as he dismissed the Legate's concerns.

No one seemed to have anything else.

"I didn't think so." the Captain said, and motioned towards the door. "Mister Kreighoff, if you'd please?"

Victor nodded and started out soundlessly, suppressing another cough. There was some damage to his lungs from the exposure to Breen's native atmosphere, he could tell that by the tiny knives that cut at him when he took a breath, but it wasn't enough to mention yet - and there was nothing anyone could do if he did. Besides, the internal injuries from his fall were more of an immediate problem if he had to engage in another protracted hand-to-hand engagement.

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

Krieghoff and Smith made a remarkably efficient scouting team. Any Breen encountered on the way to the transporter were quickly and quietly dealt with. No fuss... But the Breen certainly felt more than a little mussed.

They very nearly made it, before a rather loud siren indicated that someone had come to check on the prisoners, and not found them entirely, well...there.

Arel calmly rechecked the energy charge of her weapon, following her lead, those on the team that were armed did so as well.

Breen soldiers converged quickly, and the crowded hallway quickly turned into a running battle. "Smith! Lead them ahead, Kreighoff and I will cover the rear! Transport ahead, signal when you've materialized - and leave it on for us!"

"Captain," The security officer began to protest.

"Do it, Arel. That's an order!"

Arel frowned. "Yes, Sir. Everyone, let's move!"

Curran, still being assaulted by his cellular fusion from within, squealed and smacked a series of responses that for all intents and purposes could not be understood as he burrowed down the corridor keeping the Away team in his shadow of protection. Disruptor fire burned his hide, slowing his advance, but effectively protecting the rest of the party.

"The Great Escape" part II

Principal Characters

Captain Elaithin Jii
Legate Kylar Curran
Legate Abigail Pryce-Randall
Counselor Karyn Dallas
Commander Arel Smith
Counselor Navarre Shinta
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Counselor Ammalyn Lywhyn
Lieutenant Cole Cantrell
Ensign Zeke Wikkins

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

As soon as the embassy materialized in front of them, Abigail took immediate action. To all intents and purposes, she was in charge of the embassy at the moment, and in moments of crisis, some direction was better then none at all.

She ran down the hall from the transporter room, searching for the Chief of Staff in all the chaos. Things had definitely gone to pot down here.

She spotted the Bolian in a side room not too far from the transporter room.

"Mr. Kell, we need to begin evacuation procedures immediately. I do not know our time frame, but I know that it isn't too long."

He looked at her in surprise. "Evacuation? Of the embassy, or the entire planet?" he asked.

She looked at him. "Both. We are to evacuate the embassy, and cannot leave anyone behind. Everyone should be in the building anyway, due to the disintegration of relations with the Breen, but we need to get out of here, now. Gather up everything that must be destroyed. You know the drill."

The Bolian turned to begin sounded the evacuation alarm, and Abigail went back into the hall. The rest of the away team - or should it be termed the escape team now? - was in the hall, and the activity in the hall increased ten fold. Everyone seemed to be running around with no purpose, but Abigail could only assume that they were doing as they had been drilled when it came to evacuating hostile territory.

Kell could be franticly heard in the background, as embassy workers began moving around in a tightly controlled chaos. The computerized protocols were directing all personnel to head to the launch bay, housed on the embassy's top floor.

After hearing the command, Karyn turned to face the Legate. "Legate Pryce-Randall, how many ships does the embassy have?"

"Three runabouts, and two starfighters." Arel replied for Abigail. "I looked it up before we beamed down." she offered by way of explanation.

Dallas nodded. "That should be enough. The embassy only staffs forty or so people, if I'm recalling right."

Curran's re-materialization did not go as well as everyone else's. He'd taken several large and obviously painful hits from the disruptor fire as he'd prevented the others from going down, and combined with his already weakened state in maintaining his form from the resurgent human DNA that began to re-assert itself after being neutralized by the Breen disruptor fire, he was defeated by a transport beam. If only the Breen had known.

Kelvans were, at best translation, allergic to matter transport. Their molecular composition, as dense as it is from living the majority of his Kelvan form life undersea, was not compatible with procedural breakdown and re-assembly of standard matter. Add the fact that it's modified by humanoid components and you've got a brew for trouble.

The re-assembly had, in its infinite knowledge, re-structured the humanoid DNA first as the pattern buffers had defaulted to the majority of this in transit initially. Even the nanosecond difference was enough for the human cells to take command of the battle within, and established a foothold. The virus propagated, T-cells combating and winning.

Kylar spewed out liquid matter of varying colors and viscosity, collapsing on the floor near the runabouts. His tentacular body retroed back into its human form torturously as both forms struggled. Feet reformed gruesomely distorted, an eyeball dangled in a non-existent socket, fingers peeked off tentacles. It went this way in his torment until he passed out in the lost cause as both human and Kelvan vocals shared one chord.

His body convulsed back into human form to lay naked and glistening in a coat of sweat and residue from his form on the deck. Scores of sores, burns and bruises grew where he'd been hit, and new red blood oozed from cuts and scrapes.

The embassy's small medical team arrived at about that time, and Abigail immediately directed them to the prone Kelvan. They'd brought an antigravity stretcher, and Pryce-Randall ordered them to go ahead and load the injured Legate onto the first runabout.

Karyn watched with an approving eye, and tapped her commbadge to inform Elaithin of thier progress. She encountered only static, however.

"The Great Escape" part III

Principal Characters

Captain Elaithin Jii
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff

Thot Gor

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

Breen Diplomatic Compound
Level 3

Elaithin watched as the other members of the team rushed down the hallway, taking shots at those Breen that were in front of them, and coming to the side. He and Kreighoff were shooting more than their fair share, but were eventually cut off as they tried to hold the rear. A few minutes passed, and Elaithin looked to the Lieutenant.

"Lieutenant, condition of your power pack?"

Victor examined the appropriated Breen phaser. "Eight percent. Enough for three shots in the lethal range or six outside it."

"Same here. Get ready to go hand to hand."

Victor frowned and suppressed another cough. "Yes, sir."

Two more shots took down two more Breen soldiers, but his third missed even as he avoided a disruptor blast aimed at his own head. Some of the soldiers, at least, were playing for keeps now. After he ran out of shots, the Captain heard a mechanical voice giving an order to halt. Strangely, he'd actually gotten to where he could recognize at least one Breen voice: Thot Gor.

And he was, of course, standing between the two men and the transport room they needed to get to.

"Captain, you would do well to surrender. Your friends have been recaptured, and returned to their cells. Surrender."

"Like hell." he practically snarled back. "It's a cliché, Gor, but you're not going to get away with this."

"So confident, Captain. And yet, so very wrong."

Moving slightly, Elaithin brought himself close enough to Kreighoff so that he could whisper in the dim hallway. "Lieutenant, are you as good as they say?"

"I don't know what they say, sir." Victor closed his eyes and listened for a moment. "There are five left besides the one speaking, sir. Do you need me to handle them while you deal with him?"

"I'm counting on it. On my mark, then." the Captain replied, his eyes narrowing as he judged distance. The flooring and walls of the hall had been shot to pieces, and a metallic dust filled the air.

"What'll it be, Captain Elaithin?" Gor called out. "Surrender? Or do we do this in a more... difficult fashion?"

"I've never liked the easy way." Jii muttered. "Mark."

Elaithin rushed straight for Thot Gor then, using the butt of his rifle to catch the bottom of the Breen's helmet, and immediately followed a sweep to knock the legs out from under his opponent.

Thot Gor wasn't going down that easy, however. He caught Elaithin's arm on his way down, tugging the Bajoran sideways into the wall. The Captain's empty rifle went clattering down the hallway as both he and his opponent stood.

Victor took the first Breen easily as the alien turned to fire on Jii as he engaged Thot Gor, flicked the almost-depleted Breen weapon onto overload and tossed it to the two Breen farthest away from his position. They'd lose precious time disabling it, and he needed all he could get as he turned to the two remaining Breen and smiled, the effect marred slightly by another cough. "No0 need to rush," he hissed, his voice colder than the methane that had coated him earlier. ""I'll get to both of you in turn."

The Thot was a better fighter than Jii would have expected - Generals had a tendency to get a bit...flabby in his opinion. Not, it seemed, among the Breen. They circled each other a moment, considering. Headshots would be bad, without something hard to knock against that helmet. A straight punch with his artificial hand would likely cave the Breen leader's helmt - and head - in. Not something he wanted to do. Everything else, though...

The Bajoran made a sweep for Gor's knees first, and was blocked and rewarded with a kick that caught him in his midsection. The wind knocked out of him, he grabbed the Thot's over-the-shoulder half-cape with his mechanical left hand and used it to firmly toss the Breen leader into the wall, head-first.

He did not get up that time.

Across the room, Victor dropped the first Breen, accepted a near-miss from the second's weapon that singed his uniform jacket, and grabbed the slighter alien by the jawline of his helmet, jerking the Breen soldier up and off his feet. With a whirl, he powered the soldier into the wall head-first, the impact deforming the helmet slightly on the first contact, and penetrating a control console with a shower of sparks on the second.

Victor released the Breen, who dangled there and jerked under the influence of the current conducting through his helmet and turned to face the remaining two. The last of the soldiers, only just now finished disabling the weapon Victor had set on overload, looked at him, then each other, and then back at him as he moved across the room towards them, his footsteps taking on the same impossibly heavy, leaden impact as he approached. Without a second glance, the two turned to run - and found themselves staring directly at Jii, who had approached them silently from behind.

Jii grabbed the last two's helmets, and slammed their head together quickly. Briefly, the practical side of him eyed the unconscious Thot Gor, and he fingered a knife one of their opponents had dropped, eyeing the new leader of the Breen. He could save the Quadrant a great deal of trouble, he suspected, if he dealt with this right here and now. What was one more death on his conscience?

Victor watched for a moment, and then shook himself once, coughed, and became merely Victor again. "Bad idea, sir - you shouldn't do that." He held out a hand for the knife. "Let me do it - you have too much to lose."

For a moment, he very nearly did it.... But then, finally, relented, and dropped the knife. "No." Jii said quietly. "No. We don't do things that way. We're better than that - and if not, we should be."

Victor nodded and dropped his hand back to his side. "That's why he thinks you to be weaker than he is, sir. That's why all predators think that way - because they see only the strength they can wield and can't see the power in an idea."

Jii considered those thoughtful words a moment, and looked down again at the unconscious Breen leader. "I once heard someone once say mercy was the mark of the great man." With that thought, he gave Gor a solid kick in the ribs. "Well, maybe I'm just a good man."

He thought about it again for a second, and gave another kick. "Well, I'm all right. Come on, Lieutenant. Let's go."

"Yes, sir." Victor started to follow, paused, and turned back. "One moment, sir." He retraced their steps, picked up one of the Breen weapons, checked the charge, and set it on slow overload after a second's study. With an expressionless face, he placed the softly humming weapon on Thot Gor's chest and left the room.

"Just a reminder, sir," he explained tonelessly to Jii at the Captain's look. "We live or die at the universe's whim, subject to revocation without notice. Thot Gor needs to remember that - and he will if he comes to soon enough. Otherwise..." he shrugged, "...otherwise it was his time." He nodded towards the transporter. "Time to go, sir."

"The Great Escape" part IV

Principal Characters

Captain Elaithin Jii
Legate Kylar Curran
Legate Abigail Pryce-Randall
Counselor Karyn Dallas
Commander Arel Smith
Counselor Navarre Shinta
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Counselor Ammalyn Lywhyn
Lieutenant Cole Cantrell
Ensign Zeke Wikkins

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

Federation Embassy,
Breen

Elaithin and Krieghoff materialized in a bustling embassy. Functionaries and Starfleet personnel were running this way and that, gathering belongings, destroying classified materials, and loading everything they could in addition to the three Runabouts, there were also two old Rogue-Class Starfighters, Mark I. The fact that the Mark IV was the current model was not lost on Jii. "Arel," he asked, eyeing the fighters. "How much piloting skill do you share with your sister?"

Her relief at seeing Jii and Krieghoff still alive was somewhat diffused by his question. "Enough to get by, Sir."

"All right. You take the second fighter, I'll take the first. Cantrell , Krieghoff, Shinta, each of you pilot one of the Runabouts. Abigail, Counselor Lywhyn, inform the embassy staff that we're leaving in ten minutes, so they'd better get down here now."

The small Daedryn girl nodded, absently chewing on her hair. Tampaetian was owhere in sight, as far as Elaithin could see, so he mused that the small familiar must have made himself something very small. This entir emission had likely been somehting outside of the firl's entire range of experience. He hoped it didn't cause her many difficulties.

"Yes, sir," Victor nodded. He turned to start towards the runabouts, coughed into his hand once more, and frowned at the tiny droplets of blood that peppered his palm. With any luck there were some Starfleet-Issue medkits on the runabout and he could do something about the internal bleeding he knew had to be worsening after his last fight with the Breen - he still thought the Klingon drug was a bad idea under the circumstances. His lungs would have to wait until he was aboard ship.

The Bolian Chief of Staff approached then "Legate - sensors just picked up an explosion in the Breen Diplomatic Services Compound.." he trailed off as he saw Captain Elaithin smirk slightly.

"Captain?" Abigail asked, leaving her question unsaid.

"Just a little distraciton, courtesy of Mister Kreighoff. Hopefulyl it'll draw enough of thier attention to get us out of here."

Abigail frowned a moment, and then decided she didn't really want to know more. "There won't be time enough to destroy all the classified materials."

Jii nodded. "I know. I'm going to activate the Embassy's self-destruct sequence. It'll leave a crater, but there won't be any peripheral damage to the Breen.

"Well, that will definitely destroy all of the sensitive materials, but don't you think it is a little bit of overkill?" He began to respond, but Abigail held up her hand and shook her head. "I know, I know. There is no other way to do it that we can be sure of." Abigail frowned at the captain, her dissatisfaction with his actions written in every line of her face.

"If it's a comfort, Legate, this was not the trip I had planned." the Captain offered.

"No, but you do seem to have planned for it."

"I don't like surprises."

Shinta managed to get over to one of the runabouts. Luckily James had also been giving her some lessons. She was very happy to be able to sit down, the pain kept her from passing out from fatigue.

After a few hectic more minutes, each of the runabouts reported that thier holds were full, and that everything and everyone that could be taken from the Embassy, had. Jii nodded even as he pulled the fighter pilots helmet over his head and strapped in, even as the vessel was still finishing it's preflight checks. It took him only a moment to establish a link with the Embassy's computer, and he signalled the Runabouts to go ahead and launch. As Arel's fighter and his own lifted into the air in accompaniement, he spoke to the computer.

"Computer, activate destruct sequence 001."

["Confirm identity."]

"Elaithin Jii, Captain, Commanding Officer, USS Miranda"

["Confirm authorization."]

"Authorization Command-One-One-One-Beta-Niner."

["Code accepted. Self destruct will commence in two minutes."]

He spoke over the open comm then, isntructing his fellow pilots to move with all due haste. They cleared the atmosphere even as the destruct sequence commenced, and his scanenrs were able to pick up the detonation from orbit. He was suddenly very glad that the Federation Embassy had been house by the xenophobic Breen in a remote area, free of any nearby bystanders.

Thier fast departure seemed to have the desired effect, and they were following the Miranda's navigation beacon at mid-warp even as Breen forces were still scrambling on the planet.

The flight was short, thankfully, and before long, he found the Miranda and the Galaxy on scanners. Smiling, he hailed his ship.

"Miranda, this is Red One," he said over the comm, reading the name of the fighter off the control panel. "Requesting permission for Red One, Red Two, and the Runabouts Rio Verde, Amite, and Tennesee to be cleared for docking."

Jaal's face immediately popped up on the viewscreen. His suprise at the Captain's presence was clearly evident, and the Bajoran couldn't help but smile in response. ["Captain.. how.. nevermind. You're clear for the Main Shuttlebay. I expect you've got an interesting story for us?"]

"I do, Commander. Please be so kind to inform everyone that the entire away team has returned intact, and we've even got the Embassy staff with us. They'll need quarters."

["I'll see to it, Captain. Welcome home - Miranda out."]

And in short order, the five craft formerly belonging to the now-nonexistent Federation Embassy on Breen docked aboard the Starship Miranda, and Captain Elaithin Jii most certainly felt as though he was home. He was back where he belonged.

Now it was time to get to work.

"Call to Hypos"

Doctor Felicia Khatroweena,
Commander - CMO,
USS Miranda.

Cat came out of her office into the the main ward of Primary Sickbay, she tapped her badge, "To all Medical and Counselling Personnel: This is the CMO!"

Her voice went to the com badges of all the crew on the Miranda who had duties with Medical or Counselling. She heard her own voice over the comms general announcement system as well.

"We have our people coming up from Breen. I want Alpha ERTs on standby in ShuttleBay One. I want the shuttlebay first aid station up and running in fifteen minutes. All Medical Officers, are to report to ShuttleBay One. I want Full Away Team Return Physicals and level two Decon Protocols on all personnel on those shuttles. They'll be back on the ship in less than twenty minutes. There is no time to waste."

=== Few minutes later on the deck of the ShuttleBay ===

The huge shuttlebay doors were closed, but Cat could see the flashing of the air shields, the small convoy of ships were a few minutes away still. She looked around and most of her people were here. A lot of the flight staff were hanging around. She frowned at some of the information that Jaal had passed on to her.

Turning around and facing the assembled medical personnel, "Listen up - Some of our people have been extremely maltreated. Some of them are companions, some of them are close friends. Right now, the best thing for them is for you to be medical professionals."

In the back of Cat's mind, 'Who are you trying to convince? Them or yourself?' One of the things that disturbed Cat was the info that Shinta had been tortured. Considering the last time they had talked, it was very heated, Cat felt more than a little guilty.

"We know most of the people that are coming in, and a lot of them are going to do the normal, I've got my job to do. Right now, the most important thing is their health, so none of the 'I'm okay, let me get to my job.' I want to be sure that they are fit and healthy and if they're not, they goto Sickbay until they are."

Cat saw the beginnings of the opening of the shuttlebay door, that meant the convoy was soon to arrive.

"If any of them have a problem with us considering their health the most important thing in the world, let me know. I will deal with it. Ok, lets get our people safe and tucked into bed. They'll be here in a few moments."

1722