“Hellbore”

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe – Engineer

*USS Galaxy Deck 35*

There had been several causalities in Engineering. It wasn’t unexpected but still…. Everyone had picked themselves up and dusted themselves down, stuck their hearts on a shelf and ploughed on with repairing the ship. Dhani had several crews repairing the infrastructure, several on weapons, armour, power distribution and so much more. She herself was on shields. Back to Deflector control again!

She was beginning to think that she should just stay in that room. Forget doing anything else just stay there and keep pumping power into the shields. The ship was still rocking and shuddering with each hit. Every time she felt the vibrations her heart fluttered. If the Lady gave up they were all going to be giving up. They would have no choice on the matter.

She was jogging down the corridor now, jumping over people, debris and bulkheads. Still pausing every now and again as the ship rocked from side to side. Sometimes she wished she was in a different department. Had control of the weapons maybe, or piloted the ship. At least then she could destroy those trying to kill them or just stick the ship in warp and leave. But she knew that wasn’t possible at this time. As she reached the end of the corridor she paused again as the ship violently shuddered. Something was different. She could feel the shock wave flow through the ship powerful and hard. And then to her horror the end of the hall blew up!

She felt the blast wave before anything else, it pushed her with such force that she literally flew backwards down the corridor and went SPLAT on the wall. As she slid down on to her butt she saw the fire as it took on a domino effect blowing each panel off the wall as it came closer towards her eating the corridor.

What a great time to be caught paralysed by the head lights. Dhani just couldn’t move. As each blast got closer, ripping the corridor to shreds, support beams crashed down, panels flew up the hall towards her, and she just sat there, mesmerised by the horror. She was stuck in a magician’s barrel, and he kept sliding more swords in.

But before the fire reached her the end of the hall separated, blew off, ripped, torn off by the Hellbore cannon. All the air in the corridor even the fire was sucked out into the hellish vacuum of space. Dhani began to fly down the corridor too. Fist she hit a support beam, hip first, she let out a yelp as she bounced off it and then past it, the pain preventing her from reaching out and grabbing hold of it. She tumbled in the air as she was sucked into another beam. Her back crashed into it, her arms and legs wrapped around it backwards, and still the air pulled and yanked. Her head bounced against the beam as the pressure mounted. It was as if she was in an archaic torture device. She couldn’t see what happened next as a ripped panel flew down and hit her arms, again she yelped. She tried to move and as another piece of flying debris hit her causing her to fly over the beam. She twisted in the air and smacked into another beam. This time though it was her stomach that banged into the cold metal. Her arms and legs wrapped round it just like the other. In this position it was easier to hold on. She was winded by the knock, and dazed, it was almost as if space wanted all her air too, and tried to suck it out through her mouth. She fought the urge to give up to close her eyes and just let go. She stared down the hall, out into space. She could see the other ships, fighting out in space, though they were all a blur.

The emergency bulkheads closed, one before her crashed down, but there was no decking beneath it. It flapped around like a three day old plaster, before the preverbal hand ripped it off. Another closed not too far in front of her and another behind. And then she felt the entire deck shudder through the beam that she was still wrapped around.

She could almost hear the ship scream as part of it was severed for good. Half of the ship floated away from the drive section and into space with Dhani inside.

TBC….

"Concerto of the Endtimes"

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

Soundtrack: "Wish" By Nine Inch Nails

Tekri disappeared in an iridescent light, her biomatter broken down into energy, to be reconstructed seconds later in the brig.

Her departure left behind, thankfully, the tidal wave of Breen boarders that was to follow, as indicated on the multiple dots and 'pings' on the security officer's tricorders. Three security officers were left at her former sight, a twisted pile of wreckage that used to pin her leg. As a matter of fact, the rest of the corridor was as dishevelled in much of a similar fashion, with overhanging, spark spitting wires, smoking black consoles, dying flickers of what remained of the interior lighting, and gaps in the walls and floors from the explosions. The ship rumbled and tumbled in its deep, dark sea as it was constantly assaulted.

Background noise in Corgan's newest song.

The opportunity to watch him get shot to pieces, gangbeaten, and butchered alive from the most bloodthirsty and lethal of Breen special forces most likely escaped her. She most likely had no time, having to deal with the sudden impact of being captured and ripped away from the man she was deeply loved. It did not help much that James didn't have many comforting words, lost for any after their gunfight.

James wanted to think of her, and prayed she was protected well on the brig. His guilt bubbled up to the surface as a quiver in his cheek. Though the Breen tide threatened to swamp himself and his two deputies, he couldn't help but think of Tekri's well being.

In the background came his other errant problems. Savar, the Captain, even Kriefhoff's respect of him was deeply suspect. Opinion mattered to James, more than he cared to admit, and it was without a good image that he had not much else. Combat skill, useful and ignored in his train of thought, was all well and good but the best infantryman wasn't much else without a reputation to match. If James couldn't cultivate a reputation of honesty, trust and integrity, his success as a security officer would grind to a screeching halt. And that reputation, started with those three people, his enemy whom he wanted to make peace, his subordinate who always seemed to out-intuit him every time, and his captain, whom showed incredible restraint and patience to Corgan's unorthodox methods.

Corgan, during the last few missions, was a jackass who didn't do his job effectively. The Hazard Team, his articles, all the reforms in his departments, covered up that he saw himself as inept towards real crisis. He was much better solo, but in a group, he couldn't see himself as an effective, inspirational leader.

~"Savar is right… I have to stop being a goof and grow up. Christ, I'm over the Borg… and lady troubles shouldn't affect my job. So why do I still act like an immature f**ktard? Maybe if I get my act together and show I can do my job, everyone else will treat me seriously. It would be nice…

~"But…"~ Corgan remembered, ~"I still have some unfinished business. I have to first survive this… and next I'll have 100 hours of penance. Then I have to get a move on with that search on Rebecca. After all that, I can take it easy, maybe take a vacation, then get back to work under regular hours and slowly try to regain everyone's approval. Alright… I'll clean up my act… after I find out about Rebecca and…"~

"Any second now, sir." Hanley served to snap James back to reality.

"Ummm… right!" James barked, "Take cover, and give 'em hell!"

The security officers scrambled behind wreckage, a deadly eye on the corridor as the pings grew louder and closer.

~"God knows… if I survive this, I'm going to tie up the screwed up ends of my life. Finish business, and move on. After being with Tekri… I could almost taste a normal relationship with someone. I would like to live to experience that again…"~ "FIRE!" Boomed the security chief's voice, as he spotted the first Breen take his first cautious steps out into the corridor.

~"God, if I live through this, I swear I'll do what is right."~

Popping the trigger with a short burst, James phaser seared a volcanic circle across the Breen's helmet, bursting the plates like a brown easter egg. The body crumpled, raising the alarms of the other Breen in mechanical, soulless voices. Another Breen ducked out to fire a burst at Hanley. Hanley dropped down, while So'ka's rifle swatted the Breen aside on the arm.

~"Let me live, and I'll do what's good."~

A grenade pinged off the walls, a glowing pineapple that beeped with increasing rapidity. "Cover me!" Corgan ordered his subordinates. Their rifles raked laser etched claw marks to fend off the Breen, as James dived for the grenade. He rolled, feeling the pulsating grenade in his hand like an energy pumped organ about to burst. He chucked the alien explosive back, a second later felt the wash of heated air as it imploded. Breen voiced in front of him garbled their warnings, and their footfalls ran far from the attack.

~"Let me live, and I'll never be so selfish!"~

James coughed, his lungs vacating smoke. He saw the silhouettes of the Breen. His phaser sweeped the adjacent corridor, but failed to hit the Breen. Their leader hit the ground and fired a burst of disruptor fire that whined warningly to James side, the other Breen hit cover in a joining room. James rolled back to safety as another burst searched for him.

~"Let me live and I won't go for glory… just for what's right!"~

"Sir! Behind!" Hanley warned, as he turned around and fired. The Breen were funnelling in from the other side, and Hanley clacked his rifle into full automatic burst fire. So'ka kept the defense on the original attack while James flicked the other phaser into his hand. With two weapons, James felt braver than before and trained a weapon on each attack.

~"F**k ego! You helped mom before! Help me please!"~

Peripheral vision caught Breen on each side. Corgan's phasers lashed at both targets, as their suits puffed out the sprays of purplish, Freon like Breen blood. More came out of the floodgates, and Corgan dispatched them separately.

=/\="Transporter room to Corgan. Ready to beam the next person."=/\=

"Hanley! Beam Hanley!" Corgan took up Hanley's position, as the transporter beam whisked him away, wordlessly complaining of the sudden abduction. "So'ka, you're next!" He bellowed over the noise of his twin sidearms, his camoflague cloak fluttering as he pumped his arms out at each shot.

"Sir… I can't! You have to live to lead the…" "THAT'S AN ORDER! When you get to my rank, you can have the luxury of telling me to go f**k myself, but until then, do as I say!!!!"

The much larger alien, still unknown though he was similar in appearance to a Bizanti, grimly held out on his position without further objection.

"We'll make it…" James, in a ghost's breath, sighed, ~"A last stab at redemption… how foolish… give up a sure escape so that I can look like a hero. I must be so selfish and vain…"~ "F**K 'EM ALL!" Corgan had THAT much to say about his internal battles. The simple answer, and in a pitched firefight the simplest answer to moral dilemmas was needed, was to fight in the moment, survive, and worry later of the consequences. In the fight, he thought not of redeeming himself. He just wanted to save others, then himself, and in the meantime destroy all.

He was death. What did death care about morality and causes when everyone eventually fell?!

~"Watch this whole f**king ship come down."~ Corgan phasered another Breen, but two more came in with their rifles blasting. ~"Krieghoff's a devil, Savar's a wolf, Tekri's the backstabber and Captain is god… but who cares?! I'm motherf**king death incarnate! Everything around me dies or goes to sh*t! C'mon Breen! I don't give a f**k if you're the best!"~ His arm shot at a Breen, gouging a smoking hole in its chest, ~"I'm death! You're in my way! DIE!"~ He shot another, ~"DIE! I DON'T CARE IF I DO!!!!!"~

The rush of slaying in droves, as efficiently as Death in his fields swiping his scythe across a fresh harvest, was a heady rush that brought him in rhythm hard to ignore. He took disgust and adulation of the death around him. His gun shot another Breen, two more. The energy levels on his phasers depleted, and yet he still could not register panic.

"C'mon!" He dared the Breen, ~"This is all I can do! Kill and die some more! Just try to hurt me more! I dare you!"~

=/\="Transporter Room to Corgan…"=/\=

"SO'KA! GO!" Corgan barked.

"SIR NO!" So'ka argued, but disappeared in the transporter beam.

Breen, cautious before and suffering heavily for it, now began to flood in as Corgan rolled into an abandoned crew quarter. Space showed up to him like an open air canopy, the ships darting and firing at each other as he noticed that the emergency force fields were online in a red haze and insect hum. A foolish Breen decided to follow, and felt James wraith as the twin phasers swathed him down.

*BEEP* *BEEP*

The phaser's energy packets spent their last shots, and his phasers went dead. He dropped the now useless weapons on the ground, leaning next to the door for solace.

~"I am going to die here… sorry god for my arrogance."~ Corgan closed his eyes, ~"Sorry for all my foolish mistakes…"~

With a warcry akin to a ghost's howl, Corgan jumped at the Breen soldier packing more bravery than brains. He thrust the Breen against the wall, axehandle punched the rifle out of the soldier's hand, then brought the clubbing fists deep into the Breen's solar plexus. His palm arched up, cracking the Breen in the chin. The warrior slumped over, a gurgle in its throat.

More Breen came in, under the noises of smoke and flash bang grenades. The smoke choked and clawed at his throat, the flash bangs shielded by his combat cloak while his ears clanked like church bells. Disorientation only feed Corgan's recklessness, as he howled in anger at his foes. His elbow cracked on a Breen's battle helmet, hurting his sorry arm and throwing the Breen off balance. As another came in, Corgan kicked him in the stomach, then grabbed the Breen's tunic and threw him into the room.

Unrelenting, James used the dazed Breen combatants as shields against the others. He spin kicked the first Breen in the head, its momentum hurling him towards to door as disruptor bursts punched through the Breen's body. The second Breen swung a rifle butt at Corgan's head. The security chief dodged the shot, keeping himself and the soldier between the door, forcing his squadmates to come close and use hand to hand against him.

A third Breen shoved ran over the body of his fallen mate to attack James at the same time the second Breen redoubled his attack. Corgan slapped the third Breen's fist away, and grappled the second Breen's rifle, pulling the soldier face to helmeted face. His hand clutched the Breen's chest as the other arm pulled and the hip leveraged the throw, tossing the Breen and his rifle rolling into the former occupant's dresser.

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw the chaos about him. The best of the Breen were in chaos, unsure of what to do about the wild eyes, raving beast they had cornered in a strange starship's quarters. Two more came, and in his charge, a small, rational part of him saw the damage around him. There was no way out. Under the stars, he was going to die, as he felt he should a long time ago. The past few months, the first time in a long time where he did not obsess about his mortality, where the nightmares of his violent life did not follow, where he actually lived a selfish life, taking pleasure and not sacrificing until there was nothing left…

What did he learn? Contradictory lessons? Live in his nightmares and past and never enjoy the future? Try to enjoy his life for once, be it with Tekri or with his jobs, and learn that their intrusion only brought on his carelessness?

Perhaps, in the nanosecond flashes of insight, he found that not much has chanced. He still wanted to die, be it guilt or his traumas. ~"If only I didn't screw up so often… I could have…"~ The corner of his eye also spied something else. Under the starfield, he saw the barely faint glow of an EPS relay as a Breen capital ship pounded the Galaxy.

The EPS conduit… power supply…

One that ran the forcefields.

He also found that he was still armed, a knife in his boot, a phaser in the other.

~"I'm not going to die yet!"~

With renewed effort, Corgan ferociously fought off the three Breen on the attack. He crouched, ripping the matte black combat knife out of its sheath, then shoulder tackling the first Breen to charge. Pounding fist and knife into the Breen's gut, he slammed the dying solder into the wall, leaving him panic stricken as he tried to close the wound in his abdomen. The second Breen almost caught James by surprise, as he sprang up high, a jumping spin kick causing a sickening crack in the Breen's neck. The third Breen charged in with a straight punch, which James effortlessly used to pull him in. James twisted the arm behind the Breen's back, and slashed the combat knife across the Breen's neck. Purplish blood geysered out of the tear in the Breen's refrigeration suit, spraying Corgan across the face.

=/\="Sir, we are ready to…"=/\=

"Keep this line open and beam me on my order! Corgan out!"

What the Breen saw must have been a shocking sight. The grey eyed security officer, splayed in the blood of their comrades, would have frightened normal troops into fleeing. But the Terinax 8th guard were made of sterner stuff, and kept on attacking. As a wave, Corgan shoulder tossed another Breen, only to have two more attack from behind. A rifle crossed over James' throat and choked tightly, as another wrapped around his arms. His elbowed blindly aimed at Breen torso, his head butting anything behind him. His head flashed starlights of dull pain as he impacted a Breen's helmet, while his shoulder felt the Breen's softer belly. His foot caught another's testicles, landing both Breen attackers in a heap, and as one doubled over, James cracked his helmet with a spin, and a unforgiving knee and helmet grab manoeuvre that normally destroyed faces.

Taking advantage of the second long lapse in fisticuffs, Corgan slipped the type one phaser in his hand and under the concealment of his cloak.

In slow motion, he got to watch a new combatant throw a fist into his forehead.

James was a fast and agile opponent, but he lacked a stocky build. His body skipped off the open forcefield, aggrevating every bruise on his back, vacating all the air in his lungs, and sending the security chief to his knees.

Coughing, he still had his last trump card in his hands. The Breen stood over him, calling out to his comrades. Five more Breen took positions in the room, rifles aimed down at him.

"I've had worse… odds." James coughed, tasting the blood on his lips.

Soulless, helmeted faces, all blank expressions, looked back down. Their mechanical language alien to his ears, came out as manic as robots, like hunters unsure of what to do with their prey.

The Breen who felled James waved them back, pointing to James collar. The pips of a Lieutenant Commander remained intact.

The Breen leader placed two fingers on the jowls of his helmet. "Prisoner." The Breen spoke, a monotone voice eminating from a translation device. "Your covering. Discard it."

James felt all too happy to comply. "If you say so…"

He revealed what was inside his cloak. The phaser was in his hand, and aimed for the EPS conduit.

"I'll do it." James warned, "I'll blow it out. The forcefields will go down, and you'll all be sucked into space. TRY ME!"

Under a clatter of disruptors, the Breen squad wanted to shoot James, but were held back by their leader. He waved their rifles down, and they obeyed.

"You will not." Said the mechanical Breen voice, forboding as God.

James wasn't one to listen to divine governance often.

Everyone else be damned. Like the rest of his existence, he was going to take his chances, with others dying and his background crashing around him. "Now." Corgan said.

Then, closing his eyes and depending on the transporter chief's timing, he pressed his thumb on the phaser.

Intermissions

“Unpleasant Side Effects”

by
Ensign Tarin Iniara,
Asst. Chief Operations,
USS Galaxy

Location: Sickbay, USS Miranda, 1-2 days after the battle

“Momma, make it stop,” she whimpered, chubby face pressed into soft skirts. “Please, make it stop.”

“Honey, you can do it yourself.” A gentle hand stroked her head. “Just concentrate.”

“I…can’t. The voices won’t go away. They won’t leave.”

“Tell them to go away. Push them out. Close the door.”

“Momma—“ Tears were streaming down the young girl’s rosy cheeks, blurring everything she saw.

“I can’t always be here for you, child.” The voice was cold, distant. “You have to stand on your own.”

The hand was abruptly gone. The comforting folds of her mother’s skirts disappeared into oblivion.

And then she was falling.

Iniara bolted awake, senses straining for any evidence of a foreign presence. It was dark, so very dark. She saw nothing, heard nothing. Felt nothing.

That was the worst part. She couldn’t sense *anyone*, even when she began to strain her senses. Telepathic silence melted into auditory silence, wrapping her in a cloak of velvet blackness. Suddenly she felt very alone.

“Burned it out, didn’t you?” Cruel sarcasm dripped from the voice, its owner unseen in the darkness. Iniara’s heartbeat quickened, blood thudding in her ears.

“Who’s there?” Her voice quivered. She cursed its betrayal of her fear.

Low, sick laughter drifted from the corner of the room. Its source moved closer, her fear increasing as it did. She shouldn’t be afraid. Couldn’t afford to be, not now. It felt like the whole room was pushing down on her. Smothering. Crushing.

“Now. You’ll. Never. See. Us. Coming.” It wasn’t just one voice anymore. “Good for us. Bad for you.”

Something brushed her arm; cold, slimy. A wet chewing sound followed next.

She screamed.

“Shhh…it’s all right.” Hands pushed at her shoulders, gently yet firmly.

“Huh? Wh—where am I? Who are you?” It was still so dark. So oppressively dark.

“You’re aboard the Miranda.” A slight pause. “In Sickbay.”

“What am I—“ She squirmed weakly under the hands.

“It’s okay, you were just having a nightmare.” The voice, still without a face to accompany it, somehow soothed her. “You need your rest.”

“Okay. Sleep now.” Every fiber of Iniara’s being tried to rebel, but the prospect of sleep was far too tempting. “Sleepy. Thanks, mom.”

Some part of her subconscious snickered at her childish responses. How quiet the place was, she mused as sleep dragged her down once more. How painfully, torturously quiet.

"Analyzing the Puzzle Pieces"

Lieutenant J.G Cora Dobryin
Chief Intelligence Officer

Ensign Saul Bental
Intelligence Officer

Cora had been released from sickbay as promised after the day after she woke up there. At that time she'd left word for her new Intel analyst to begin combing through the Hazard Team data. She'd now called him into her office to discuss his findings so far.

Time was critical on this one. Part of the reason why she'd assigned it to Saul without actually meeting him first. That and it allowed her a solid something to evaluate him on once they did.

"Enter," she called as the door chimed.

A young Ensign took a confident step inside. Cora already saw him in the department and of course on the personal file sent to her by SFI Human Resources branch. The officer standing before her appeared young but capable. Her real assessment of his capabilities would come in his analysis of the Hazard Team data.

Saul scanned the room for a moment, before meeting his superior's gaze. Dobryin maintained an organized office - except there was evidence of some disorganization due to the recent attack. Saul was on the bridge when it happened, so he found out about the severe damage to the Intel center only after the fight was over. It gave him an extra reason to be thankful that Cassius Henderson decided to summon him to the Saucer section's bridge when he did.

"Welcome aboard Ensign. Have a seat and we'll go from there."

"Toda Raba." Saul thanked her politely, pulling a chair. He leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. In that posture, he looked too much comfortable - at least for an intake interview with his direct commander.

"How's your analysis of that Hazard Team data shaping up. I'd like to hear what you have so far," Cora figured there was no time like the present to begin the serious part of ther discussion. The rest would follow along with it.

Saul liked the approach of getting straight to business. He prepared himself for a long, boring conversation about his place of birth and favorite color, but Dobryin seemed to be a practical woman. And a good-looking one, too.

"First of all, I think there's too much data for a single person to analyze in an effective manner. Therefore, I concentrated on several issues. May I?"

"Please.", Cora allowed him to come over to her side of the desk. Saul pressed on the embedded panel, his arm accidentally brushing against Cora's shoulder.

"First, I concentrated on the Hydrans. I'm going to finish with them and get to the Breen tomorrow. I read a little about them in our database, then ventured to see what's new."

The display in front of Cora changed, the UFP insignia replaced by the image of eleven Hydran spaceships, each one slowly rotating vertically and horizontally.

"The first thing I was interested in was their military capabilities. Their fleet are not very diverse, but this and this", he pointed at two of the smaller ships, "are new designs. Both of them are corvettes, carrying smaller-scale fusion weapons. In the Hydran tradition, they have weak armor but make up for it by other traits. Why do you think the Hydrans designed them?"

Cora looked at the younger Intel officer, "For instance..." She wanted to know more of where he was headed with this one.

"I'm thinking flexibility. Smaller crafts are often used for scouting and for raids. You can raid a supply convoy with a Hellebore Battlecruiser, but that's an awful waste of resources."

"Those are all good things but I think there's got to be more to it than just that. Given what we witnessed during their initial attack," Cora responded thinking out loud as she continued to discuss the information with Ensign Bental.

"Perhaps. I made the assumption without much experience in the Hydran tactics. I'm sure the folks at SFI HQ would have some ideas of their own. Plus, we don't have the entire picture"

"Any idea on their crew capacity?"

"The specs say twenty seven total." Saul replied, straightening his uniform slightly. "Not surprising, since the Hydrans like the number three a lot. They count on base twelve, for instance, not many species do that."

She considered his comments for a moment, "Yes that is true. One thing to note is that during the initial attack from the T'Kith'Kin and the Hydrans they only had skeleton crews aboard their ships which had been slave rigged for remote operation. At least that's our leading theory so far."

"The Hydrans too? I thought only the T'Kith'Kin." Saul frowned a little. "Well, they did have a large base of operations in the system, but using remote control is something best avoided, because once the enemy disrupts the remote control - by jamming or any other measure - the controlled ship becomes useless even if it's otherwise unharmed. Do we know which systems of the ship were remote-controlled?"

Cora shook her head, "Unfortunately we don't. It just seems to be the best theory to fit the data we have so far. And the tactical patterns we saw employed by the ships."

"Before you ask," Saul interjected, "I didn't bother to look for weaknesses and so in the designs, since it doesn't have strategic importance. I relayed it to someone from Tactical to take a look at, she should give me an answer within 24 hours."

"I'll be interested to see what they come up with as soon as you have something there," Cora answered.

"Sure thing. I just hope it'll take more than a couple of hours before the Romulan star empire gets the data as well, we did work hard on acquiring it." Saul joked, referring to the exchange officer in charge of the Galaxy's tactical department. Saul heard that the man was neither on the bridge or battle bridge during the fight, and it puzzled him.

"Just make sure other members of the crew don't hear a comment like that. "Cora reminded him gently. Even if she had hear a few things herself. Professionalism wouldn't allow those thoughts to get out of hand.

"My bad." Saul concurred. Indeed he allowed his tongue to loosen up too much.

He continued in a more professional manner. "As for the numbers of vessels they have from each class, I'm afraid the hazard team didn't salvage that data. I can say how many were on the Havras system, but there was not data about the overall size of the fleet."

"Havras may only have been a small preview of their capacity there but I don't consider that engagement tiny by any means. Its a dangerous void we need to find a way to fill." said Cora.

"Oh, absolutely." Saul agreed. "But somehow I doubt it'll be easy to get our hands on their entire troop plans. Anyhow, other than the Tactical data, I also browsed through some other points of interest. Is there anything you want to hear about in particular?"

At that Cora smiled, "Yes it would be difficult to do that. However you've accurately summed up the challenge of Intelligence work. I'm interested in everything we can find out Ensign. So feel free to continue at you leisure."

"Well..." Saul brushed his hair unconsciously, "The other things I read were less interesting, some of them even negligible. One funny thing though was the Base's choice of patron."

Saul explained Cora in short about the Hydran Patron system and about the choice of the minor god of 'Supremacy through deceit' as the Havras base's patron.

"So I was thinking - they did eventually use a rather cunning plot against us, but perhaps the 'Supremacy through deceit' thing is actually aimed at the Hydrans' own allies?"

Saul's fingers sled over the panel, and Cora's display showed a small statue of Vaviz-zious, which appeared like a glutton Hydran wih twelve eyes instead of three.

"Related to that, right now I'm trying to find out as much information as I can about the Hydrans' foreign affairs, especially toward the Breen and the T'Kith'Kin. How, when and why did it begin? Is there a leading race in this pack? And most important, what weaknesses can we exploit? Perhaps I'm jumping a little over my belt, but I believe that this should be the direction the Intel researches back on Earth should pursue."

Cora was looking forward to working with Ensign Bental. "Very interesting initial work you've done there. I'm can't wait to see more. Will there be anything else? Other than that I'll await your official report on the Havras data."

"Not much really."

Saul seemed to ponder about something, then addressed her again. "I have a request..."

"What is it Ensign?" she inquired.

"I heard there's a crewmember who's taking a shuttle to a planet called Sakaria. I have some business there... is it possible for me to depart for about a week? I promise that I'll return as soon as I can."

Briefly Dobryin pondered his request. "I don't see why not as long as you can be back with in a week. Something tells me that last mission may only be the tip of the iceberg for us."

"Thank you."

A minute later, Saul was already out in the corridor, marching vividly toward his temporal quarters. The intake interview couldn't have gone better, with the Intelligence chief asking him professional questions only. No 'what did you do before', no 'What's your martial status', not even 'Is there anything about yourself you want to tell me?'.

He really didn't feel like lying to his commander on their first official interview.

As a blue-collared Ensign crossed his path, Saul's mind shot back to the familiar name on the manifest he saw when he was en-route to the Galaxy. He was yet to confront that person, but that will have to wait until he returns from Sakaria.

And with that in mind, he changed his destination and headed toward Engineering, where he knew he will probably find one Naranda Sol Rosewell.

"Echoes"

Lt. Brianna O'Shea, SCE Liaison
Lt. Jg. Dhanishta Eshe, Engineering Officer

:: S.C.E. Hub, Starbase 212 ::

Brianna was standing there listening to some officers give her their ideas about how to go about starting their tedious task. After several moments she sighed. "Gentlemen, please..." She said pausing to look around the face.
"We are barely able to get over on the Galaxy engineering section, when we do, we have to use EVA suits cause hull breeches every where." She said looking around. "Get two teams, start working on getting power back to this section," She said pointing to a layout of the galaxy.

"When you get it done, get force fields in place then we can move in damage control teams and assess the situation at hand." She said then give a crisp nod. "Dismissed." She said then reached for her raktijeno as she contemplated what to do next.

Dhani wandered into the SCE hub on star-base 212. She wasn’t dressed in uniform, just her comfy black cargo pants and black string top. The scaring over her body was still visible and she was still undergoing treatment for the injuries she received from the battle. She was actually glad that she still had insomnia, because she really didn’t want to obsess and dream over what happened.

The things that she remembered inside the corridor floating through space……. Nah, better left out there. But she needed to get out and have a wander round. She hadn’t been back to the ship and as the counselors said that was one of the first steps to healing. And she also knew that the Galaxy itself needed a hell of a lot of heeling. Slowly and with much trepidation Dhani walked in and looked around. She stepped out of the way of the crew who had just obviously been given orders and momentarily stared at the floor. She still felt stiff and her body still hurt though it was all in her mind. Her internal injuries and all her brakes and fractures had been healed, but she could still feel it.

She looked up across the room and into the eyes of another officer drinking raktjeno. She could smell the Klingon coffee across the room and smiled slightly, it was a comforting reminder of her childhood. Amazing how much influence one culture had across so many others.

Anna sat her coffee down and turned her head she looked over at the basket on the floor, where a black Scottish Terrier was laying proudly on a velvet pillow. "Lucky.." She whispered then looked back to the window, looking at the charred exterior hull of the Galaxy. "What did they do you, hon?" Brianna said then sighed.

“They kicked the shit out of us.” Dhani said taking on some of the humans interesting expressions. She tilted her head to one side and watched the officer as she appeared to mourn for the Galaxy. It was slightly odd, or so Dhani thought, this woman who stood before her, she had never seen her before and yet she seemed wounded by the state of her ship.

Hearing the voice the red haired engineer turned to regard the woman dressed in black. "Looking at her this way makes me wish I was there.. be less painful if someone just hit me with a brick." Brianna said as she picked up her coffee. "Don't worry, though, she'll be rebuilt." Anna said, with a voice of control and resolve to see it done and through.

“I don’t doubt it.” Dhani replied a hint of her Vulcan detachment flowing through her words. She walked slowly to the window. Wincing slightly with each step, her long black hair fluttered in the breeze. She flicked it off her shoulder; the burns she received had scared her arms and had almost reached her brand, but not quite. That Klingon brand was the only scar she permitted to adorn her body. The rest would be removed in time. She stood along side the officer and forced herself to look out upon the Galaxy. Her hand moved up to the window and her fingers lightly stroked the pain. A sadden look crossed her features as she too mourned for her ship. Lowering her eyes she turned to the other officer, looking up her eyes briefly made contact before she turned again to glance back at the ship.

"You of my ship.." Brianna said then smiled. "She was my first chief position, now her daughter as come home to make sure they rebuild her correctly." She said then. "I'm Lt. Brianna O'Shea... Starfleet Corp of Engineering Specialists currently over seeing Project Galaxy.." She then looked back to the Galaxy.

Dhani nodded, “That would explain the pain you feel when you look at what they have done to her.” she said simply, not realizing that she had even picked up on the feeling of pain and recognized it.

"That obvious?" Brianna said as she gestured to a chair. "Right now I can't even get over there... got two teams security the engineering section so I can board her with the rest." She said, as she sat down she sipped her coffee. "Want to tell me what happened out there?" Brianna asked, she'd read the reports, then there was lot of stuff that never got mentioned in a report.

Dhani frowned and apologized, “I’m sorry, I dint mean to, erm….” She stopped and wondered why she could feel her. “I’m sorry.” She said again as she mentally bared herself. “It must have been the…” she trailed off again and slowly walked to the chair. She sighed as she sat down and then thought about the question at hand, “What happened….” She repeated, mulling the question over in her head, “Well,” she blinked an looked up at the ceiling, and then at the ‘space’ around Brianna, chewing the inside of her cheeks as she did so.

“Well. We were attacked by the Hydren and the Tkithkin first, they blew up our aft shields first, during the first attack. I remember that. We spent several days repairing the ship and getting her battle ready while the fighters were trying to locate that enemy’s base. And soon after the battle cry went out. We were heavily out numbered. It didn’t matter how much preparation we did there was no way to over come those odds.” She shook her head as she spoke of the battle. Trying to keep her emotions under check, “The Hellbore canon did the most damage, it ripped off or nacelle and took several decks with it….” Dhani visibly shuddered as she remembered.

Brianna looked down feeling Peckerwood, her dog, lay down beside her boot. He always seemed to know when she was needing to know someone was around. "You lucky it didn't cause a hull breech." Brianna said, she couldn't even calculate the people with radiation from something like that. "I'm sorry that you had to go through it, but thank you for doing it for me, everyone else in the Federation."

Dhani regarded her for a moment. ‘Thanks’ was the last thing she expected, from anyone. She buried her feelings, “I’ve been through worse things during my time on that ship.” She replied a hostile note seeping into her words. She tried to buffer it

"Ships are like magnets for trouble, they attract it." Brianna said then paused as a ensign appeared with a data padd for her. Accepting it she looked it over and continued. "Your a engineer, I can tell it in your eyes." She said then looked up. "What position are you over on the Galaxy?" She asked.

“You’re quite astute.” Dhani commented, “Don’t you ever think that the eyes could lie?” she questioned a slight impish grin creped across her features.

Anna chuckled as she finished her raktijeno. "True they can, but usually for me the eyes that are lying to me are in a very attractive young man with body by the gods and a smile that could melt titanium." She said then grinned.

Dhani pondered the analogy raising her eyebrows at the woman before her. “I work for Suder.” She replied after a moment, “You were right. I’m a junior grade lieutenant.”

"Tell me about him, I think he was on the ship under my command when I was on the Galaxy. Last I remember he was quiet, kept mostly to himself." Anna said then.

“I don’t know him very well.” Dhani replied quickly. Lying through her teeth. She paused as if she had been caught out and then said, “He still keeps to himself. And he is still quiet. Not much has changed I guess.”

"Oh.." Brianna said then stood up and placed her cup in the replicator. She then heard a beeping sound and moved over to look down. "Sub-space message... new saucer section has been dispatched... we should have her in a few days." Brianna said.

“That’s good news.” Dhani replied. “I should really leave you to get on with your work.” She half smiled and rose out of her seat trying not to scrunch her face up with the pain,
“Maybe I’ll see you around on the Star Base?” She half questioned.

"Sure... that'd be good." Brianna said as she smiled. "You did good out there, Lieutenant, don't ever let anyone make you believe otherwise." Brianna said as she looked back down, checking the progress of the two teams she sent out.

Dhani looked up sharply, “I didn’t save her though.” She replied. There was a strange note in her voice. A slightly detached one, maybe anger too, it was difficult to tell. Her eyes glazed over as she stood and stared across the room.

Anna turned and smiled. "not talking about the Galaxy, Lieutenant." The woman said then. "I'm talking about yourself, being alive... after something like this if your alive, you did something good."

Dhani felt stunned, as if something had passed through. She looked back into the eyes of Anna, her own eyes glazed as they welled up. She shook her head, “There is no good in murder. No matter what label you put it under, war, self defense……” she paused, “That ship has a curse to all that sail in her. Be glad that your just fixing the dammed thing up.”

"Very true.. through war a even greater peace can be found... no it doesn't make it easy to see friends and loved ones die. That ship over my shoulder and ones like it, make it possible for those back on Earth and all the other worlds safe." Brianna said then paused.
"Unfortunately though, to be safe there are times of conflict. Usually when we are in that we began to wonder if we are the right side, or just the biggest dog leading the pack." Brianna concluded.

Dhani stood by her testimony, “It’s cursed!” she exclaimed. And then realized the illogicalness of her statement taking a few steps backwards she sat down again, looking at the floor.

"Cursed is a strong word, Lieutenant.. accurate, but strong." She said then smiled.

Dhani frowned, “I’m sorry I should really go.” She said again standing and heading for the door. “I must work out where to go now.” She mumbled to herself.

"Ever need a understand ear... just give me a call." Brianna replied watching her. She figured this was Dhani's first real intense battle, hoped the woman didn't do the wrong thing and leave Starfleet if that were the case. "Nice talking to you, Lt."

Dhani nodded vaguely as she exited the room. Outside she leaned against the door and blew out a long breath. What to do now? She wondered. Pushing herself off the door she walked down the hall. Still uncertain of what to do.

Anna looked down at Peckerwood. "Don't give me that look.." She said then looked back to the Galaxy. "No doubt after what you've been through there is a lot like her." Anna said softly then began to work once more.

“The Monastery Part 1”

Senator Ramir Omar really hated sonic showers.

For the past few months, he had endured sonic shower after sonic shower onboard the Galaxy. Now, at last, he could indulge in a proper shower with running water at Starbase 212.

He had booked the executive suite of the best hotel the starbase had to offer – and it certainly was luxurious: it ranked alongside his expensively decorated Galaxy quarters.

There was a small Romulan embassy here at the starbase, and Omar had invited Sub-Commander Savar to come and indulge himself in all things Romulan. After all, the sub-commander had been through a lot recently, thanks to that “diplomatic aide” of his. He would wait for a reply from Savar before going to visit the embassy.

This hotel room would certainly do for now.

While his bodyguards guarded every entrance to his suite, Omar planned how to enjoy his time at the starbase. Having set aside some time at the embassy with Savar, he planned very soon to visit the Vulcan monastery on the planet below – in secret, of course.

The shops might also warrant a visit. While the room service provided excellent food – all real, non-replicated stuff (genuine pepperoni pizza and vodka were amazing!) – he wanted to try some even more exotic dishes during his stay.

The senator stepped out of the shower and changed into a fresh set of traditional, brown senate robes. A discreet Ferengi had agreed to take him down to the monastery planet’s surface in his shuttle – Omar didn’t want to use Starfleet transporters because they would leave a record of where he had been. A Romulan going to visit a Vulcan planet might look slightly strange.

There was a knock at the door and one of his bodyguards stepped in.

“Jolan tru, my lord,” he bowed slightly. “I apologise for disturbing you, but the Ferengi is here.” He failed to hide his contempt in his voice for the capitalist species.

The senator nodded – the guard left and the Ferengi entered.

“The shuttle is ready, senator.” The Ferengi said, and Omar handed him several strips of latinum before leaving.

"Hazards and Hasperat"

Backpost - Set immediately prior to "Swept Away, Part 1"

by
Ensign Miramon Terrik,
Flight Control Officer

Ensign Aristi Ferguson,
Flight Control Officer

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

Deck Two,
Crew Quarters -
Aristi Ferguson and Tarin Iniara

Morning dawned irritatingly early for Aristi Ferguson, who had been having the strangest dreams about holodecks and hasperat. She had no idea what that meant. Normally she wouldn’t have been up for another hour or two, rising only shortly after her roommate usually did. But Iniara was off on an away mission, had been for a few days now, so Aristi’s routine was a little off.

Briefly she considered going back to sleep, then decided she might as well get up. Throwing off her heavy patterned blanket, Aristi made her way across her still darkened quarters, reaching for the computer console on her desk, activating it and beginning the morning routine of checking any new messages. Shortly after, her stomach began to rumble. Of course she would be hungry this early in the day; she had been dreaming about food. Granted, she had never tried hasperat before, but food was food. Bajoran food, if she remembered correctly.

And of course, thinking about Bajoran food got her thinking about Ensign Terrik, that Bajoran she had very nearly flattened back on 212. How long ago that seemed. Since then she hadn’t seen much of him; aside from the daily shift changes, that is. “I wonder if he’s up,” she mused aloud, figuring he would be since his normal shift was earlier anyway.

Not that that meant a whole lot now, she thought, what with the constant threat of attack throwing a big ol’ monkey wrench into everyone’s routines. So instead of reaching for her commbadge, she typed out a quick message on her console. If he was awake and available he would get the message; if not, no harm done.

[Hey! Haven’t bugged you in a while; wondering if you’re not busy and/or hungry? I’m heading down to Ten-Forward in 20 minutes or so, want to join me? Food is good! --Aristi]

With that, she put the console back into sleep mode and made her way to the shower, her stomach still rumbling merrily away.

Deck 5,
Crew Quarters -
Miramon Terrik

Having only got up about twenty minutes ago himself, Miramon was fresh from the shower and currently enjoying a nice warm cup of coffee - the perfect start to what promised to be a difficult day. Since they started the mission in Breen space, everybody had been pretty much on a knife edge, since nobody knew for certain what their chances were of getting out of this one alive.

Shrugging off that morbid thought, the Bajoran crossed over to his desk and activated the console as he was halfway around, sliding into his chair just as the screen popped up and turned itself on. Within a moment, the computer's voice rang over the air:

"You have two new messages."

Miramon smiled. "Somebody must be horrifically bored if they're sending me messages at this time of the morning. Computer, identify senders."

The computer beeped, then spoke again: "Message from your mother. Unread for 32 days."

The Bajoran chuckled. "Make that 33 days. And the second one?"

"Ensign Aristi Ferguson. Unread for 10 minutes."

Miramon looked slightly puzzled. He hadn't heard that one come in.

"Computer, display message on the screen."

Within a moment, the computer had complied, displaying the short and somewhat cheerful message on the screen. Apparently, he still had ten minutes if he was going. And that said, he hadn't eaten breakfast either. Well, only one thing for it - though, that said, the last time they'd encountered one another, she'd knocked him over while carrying enough shopping for 4 people. Hopefully this would be a less dangerous encounter.

Smiling archly, the Bajoran took another sip from his cup of coffee, then tapped the commbadge on his uniform tunic.

"Miramon to Ferguson. Are you there, Aristi?"

Aristi was busy twisting her hair up into a tight bun when the heard her communicator chirp, followed by a familiar voice. She tapped the commbadge on her uniform jacket, which was currently draped across a chair.

“Aristi here,” she began. Then, cutting right to the chase, “You hungry?”

"Definitely. I've not eaten breakfast yet. See you in the mess hall in a few minutes?"

“Excellent. See you there!” And with that, Aristi quickly tied up the rest of her hair, slipped on her uniform jacket and headed out the door.

Approximately Four Minutes Later. Ten Forward, Deck 10

Slipping inside the double doors of Ten Forward, which hissed neatly open in their familiar rhythm as he approached, closing as soon as he'd moved inside the room and out of the range of the door's sensors, Miramon glanced around the room, noting little activity, which could be expected for this time of the morning. Most of the crew in there were on Alpha Shift, so they were probably just doing the same as he was - getting breakfast.

The Ensign was dressed in his normal uniform - all freshly cleaned and pressed the previous night, so it'd be ready for the shift. The only thing missing was the typical Bajoran ear cuff that was not permitted by Starfleet dresscode regulations. He'd always wondered at that - since the Federation promoted multi-cultural tolerance, why was it therefore wrong to wear something that represented your cultural and religious beliefs? It was like forbidding Klingons to wear a baldrick with family insignia. Just less dangerous.

Glancing around, he quickly checked the small chronometer he wore on his wrist - he knew it was old fashioned, but it was always easier than asking the computer outloud. Aristi still wasn't around - still, he had a while, so it wouldn't be a problem. With that thought, he headed to the bar to order some breakfast.

A minute or so later Aristi strolled through the doors. She wore an almost identical, immaculately maintained uniform, though hers had a distinctive cut to accommodate Cardassian physiology. Spotting her friend almost immediately, she too made her way over to the bar.

“Morning!” she greeted Miramon, smiling widely. “Long time no see. How’s things?”

"Good morning. I'm not gonna say things are good, because in the current climate, I'd say it's probably the exact opposite. Still, best to be optimistic today. Otherwise I'll go put myself on the likely ever-expanding roster for seeing one of the Counselors. How are you doing?"

“A little on edge with the whole, you know, imminent doom thing,” Aristi replied, thinking of all the things currently stacked against them. “That probably wasn’t the best way to phrase it.” Her expression darkened just a bit.

Miramon smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about it. That's the part of the job you don't wanna think about, but since we know there's always the possibility, we might as well be prepared for it. But I feel confident about this - after all, Captain M'Kantu is a good captain, and the crew is resourceful enough. Anyway, that said, what are you having for breakfast?"

The Bajoran turned to the barman and smiled. "I'd like scrambled eggs on toast, slightly peppered, and a glass of fresh smooth orange juice." He turned back to Aristi and grinned. "Old Earth favourite. I never could eat anything from home when it comes to breakfast. Too many interesting foods from the rest of the Quadrant."

“Definitely,” she responded. “Hasperat and a double raktajino, please.” Turning back to Miramon she continued. “I’ve never had hasperat before, but it seems tasty. Always good to try something new I suppose. Well, shall we grab a table?” She stepped back from the bar, surveying the room.

Miramon smiled. "Bajoran food, huh? Not exactly breakfast fare, though." Waiting a moment as the food arrived, freshly replicated, the Bajoran picked up his tray and headed over to a free table near the window - admittedly, there wasn't much to see, but he always liked starscapes, and today was no exception.

Aristi followed suit, settling into the seat across from him. “I had a dream about this stuff last night; figured I should see what it was really like,” she explained, grinning sheepishly. “Sounds stupid, I know.”

She said a quick prayer, crossed herself in traditional Catholic fashion, and then began to dig in. “Ooh, this is tasty!” she exclaimed, taking a long gulp of her coffee to wash it down.

"Not really. Everybody gets the occasional craving for food, even if they've never eaten it before." the Bajoran smiled. "Not that I ever thought to see a Cardassian develop a taste for Hasperat."

Aristi paused in thought for a moment, her head cocked to one side. “True. I see this face in the mirror every day, but sometimes it’s strange to think of myself as anything but Terran. Sounds like I’m the one who should be seeing the counselors, when and if we all come out of this alive.”

Her voice gained a more serious tone as she turned to look out the window. “It seems so peaceful out there. Hard to believe so much has already happened, and no doubt the worst is yet to come.”

Ah, that was it. She was part Terran. Miramon had wondered why he hadn't reacted to her being Cardassian, mainly because she didn't act like a Cardassian - at least, not like any he'd come across before, and he had plenty of reasons to dislike or hate them for that. But Aristi hadn't done anything even remotely like that, but at least that explained some things.

Miramon nodded at that thought, taking a quick bite of the hot buttered toast that went with the egg, then followed Aristi's gaze. "I think I pretty much agree with that, but let's face it - if you wanted a boring and flatly uninteresting job, you'd have signed up for merchant freight rather than for Starfleet. This kinda thing comes with the job."

“That’s what makes it fun. I gave up a promising career as an archaeologist to come out here. And you know, no matter how many papers I wrote or new discoveries I made, it didn’t seem like I was making enough of a difference. I wanted to help protect the Federation which had given me a second chance at a decent life…and to hopefully prove that not everyone born a Cardassian is ruthless and evil.” That last word seemed too harsh to be a perfect fit, but it was the first thing that sprang to mind. She had a hard time thinking of an entire people as wholly evil, especially when she shared at least a biological connection with them, if not more.

The serious edge to her voice abated. “Didn’t mean to ramble like that. But I guess now you know my story, or at least part of it.” She smirked, before continuing with her breakfast.

The Bajoran nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. I think I can understand the whole prejudice against Cardassians - and you gotta admit, there's good reason for it. But you weren't involved in the Occupation, so there's no point painting you with the same brush."

He took a sip of the orange juice he'd ordered with his breakfast and let the tart juice settle itself on his tastebuds, the flavour becoming less intense by the moment, but still pleasant, all in all.

"Well, I was born on Bajor during the Occupation, but since I never thought the resistance was gonna do anything substantial, I took a job on a freighter shipping resources between the planet and some of the outlying Cardassian-controlled systems, even occasionally heading to a Federation system now and then. It was pretty dull, but it got me away from Bajor, which was definitely a worthwhile thing to do back then."

The Bajoran paused a second, his eyes glazing slightly in thought.

"I have to say, Bajor was a complete mess last time I saw it. I think the whole thing probably got me into pushing myself to do something more meaningful than piloting a freighter or shipping rebuilding supplies back home. Starfleet seemed the best way to go about it, but I have to say, were it not for the Emissary, there'd be a lot of bad feeling about the Federation back home. You can well imagine how joining up went down with my family."

“Oh, definitely. My mother and father were not happy when I told them I was joining Starfleet, but they eventually warmed up to the idea. I suppose it’s only natural they worry, though. But it’s your life to lead, and if you can make more of a difference up here than you can back on Bajor…go for it. How long have you been away from there, anyway?” Silently she hoped his reply would be a large number, and that the planet might be doing much better in the present day.

"Well, I'd left when I was 16, up until the point where the Occupation ended, at which point the ship returned home and we helped assist with the rebuilding efforts. But I've not been back since I joined up at the Academy, so it's been several years. Obviously the whole thing with the Dominion War didn't help much, but things are looking better with Federation assistance, especially since we were granted full membership."

“From what my roommate tells me things are going slow, but steady. She was in the Bajoran Militia up until the end of the Dominion War, and I think she’s been back a couple times since then, though I haven’t been able to get more details out of her than that. Someday, I’d like to go there and see B’Hala for myself. It would sure beat reading about the city in journals or ‘visiting’ in a holodeck, though I think it may be a while before I get my chance.”

Miramon nodded, though he wondered whether that'd actually be possible - a lot of Bajorans still reacted badly to the presence of the Cardassians, especially so since the end of the Dominion War, even though the Kai and the Vedeks tried their best to get the people around the prejudice.

"That'd be interesting. Maybe if we get some shore leave, we could take a trip. I'm sure your roommate would enjoy visiting Bajor again. If you go with Bajorans, most people won't have a problem with you."

“Hm. Sounds like a good idea. I can see all the sights, maybe dig around in the dirt, *and* play goodwill ambassador. Could be interesting…and interesting is definitely why I came out here.”

The Bajoran smiled. "I guess that's fair. Anyway, what's your take on this situation? It's nice to have the Miranda here, but I can't see us all coming out of this one in one piece."

“You make a valid point.” The corner of Aristi’s mouth quirked upwards. “We’re only two ships—five if both ships separate—against who knows how many Breen. If their aim is to capture us more or less intact I think we have a chance. But if not…this could get very messy. Though, as long as they’re limping home as badly as we may be by the end of this, I’m satisfied.”

Miramon nibbled lightly on his last piece of toast, almost done with his breakfast, which was quite amazing, since they'd been talking pretty much constantly since they'd sat down.

"I'm not. Since we've got a Galaxy and a Pathfinder, I'd be annoyed if we let them limp home, and more so if we were to do the same. Actually, I was really surprised to get this as a second assignment, so I personally want to see us and the ship come out in one piece, not several."

Aristi gulped down the rest of her coffee before speaking. “Well, from what I understand both ships have a history of pulling miracles out of nowhere. Plus, we’ve got the whole 12th Fleet waiting to back us up, so either way we’ll show them who’s boss.” Thinking about all those ships on the border relaxed her a bit; even if that blasted mine field was currently holding them at bay. They would jump that hurdle when it came to it, she thought; no sense worrying about it now.

Miramon thought that particular brand of optimism to be a bit uncautious - things had a way of creeping up on you, and if they really needed the help of the 12th fleet, then they were clearly in trouble. He was just about to say so when his commbadge sounded and the voice of the Captain floated over the airwaves.

"Ensign Terrik to the Battle Bridge."

The Bajoran looked momentarily concerned. "Battle Bridge? What's going on?"

Aristi’s expression echoed his worried look. “Whatever it is, it can’t be…“ She stopped mid-sentence as her own commbadge activated.

“Ensign Ferguson, report to Main Shuttlebay.”

“Sounds like it’s time to tango.” She stood up from the table, her demeanor changing instantly. Gone was the friendly expression she normally wore; in its place was a mask of cold determination. The face any self-respecting Cardassian would be expected to display.

"Right, let's go."

Pushing back his chair, Miramon stood up, taking just a second to quickly finish the last of his orange juice, then straightened the uniform jacket he wore, heading to the door, Aristi following close behind him. Since the turbolift to the Battle Bridge and the one that went to the Main Shuttlebay were in opposite directions, the two had to split there.

"Gotta go. Whatever's going on, it can't be good. I've gotta get going. I'll catch up with you later on, alright? Once all this is over."

The Bajoran started taking a slow walk to head for the turbolift, not wanting his nerves to overwhelm him. Stopping quickly, he half-turned to look at his breakfast companion.

"And Aristi? Stay safe."

Aristi smiled, her expression momentarily softening. “I will, and you do the same. See you on the other side.” And with that, she turned and jogged off down the hallway.

"Off to Sakaria"

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell,
Engineering,
Galaxy

Ensign Saul Bental,
Intelligence,
Galaxy

Dr. (Lt. jg) Phoebe Ivers,
Science,
Miranda

Location: Shuttlecraft en route to Sakaria

BACKGROUND: After the relash on Vrlu, Nara recuperated in Medbay fairly quickly. The ship was a horrible wreck and she immediately assisted in repairs. However, her experience was still with her. She had shared minds with people. With a bioship. She hadn't really had time to process it all. She yearned for the cliffs of Sakaria. Thankfully there was shoreleave while the ship was in repair and she decided to go to Sakaria. She would be joined by three people. Phoebe and Cernu, her new friends that were members of the Miranda and Saul Bental had somehow caught word she was going to Sakaria. She saw no reason to say no.

NOW ON WITH THE SHOW: Nara was lost in thought as she watched the stars ahead. Phoebe was to her side and Saul and Cernu was in the back. She was glad to have Phoebe along, but wasn't sure about Saul. She wondered why he wanted to go to Sakaria. She hadn't asked before since he asked to come just hours before they were to leave. She turned to him, "So why are you going to Sakaria? Not many people visit Sakaria. For any reason." She looked at him suspiciously wondering if she should turn around and put him back at the station.

Saul approached slowly from behind, taking the vacant seat. He flashed a smile at Phoebe, and then turned toward Nara.

"Why, obviously I have a super secret Intelligence mission, including assassinations, nasty villains, shiny gadgets, and surrounding myself with beautiful girls. That's a good start by the way." he gestured at the two of them, his smile widening.

Nara glared at him, not letting herself finding him amusing--even charming. She fought back the urge to smile. "Very funny."

"That can be very dangerous; surrounding yourself with beautiful women." Phoebe Ivers responded. "Some beautiful women can be cunning, and deadly. Like tigers, with their claws extended." she lifted one hand, as if to twixt it into a claw-like gesture, but she ended up only pushing her glasses up on her nose.

Saul raised his hand in a protective manner. "The truth is much less romantic, I'm afraid. I'm going to visit a Sakarian friend I haven't seen for a while, and exploit some business opportunities."

As he said that, Saul concentrated on the business part of his trip plan. He didn't know much about telepathy, and so the fact that he was traveling with a Betazoid hybrid was an unknown threat to him.

He had no intention of giving Nara a complete answer, and for a pretty good reason. Nevertheless, he didn't lie; He WAS going to meet an old acquaintance and do some trading and bargaining.

Nara's suspicion just grew all the worse, "Who do YOU know on Sakaria?"

"If I tell you that I know Eresh, it won't help you much." Saul replied, quickly picking a very common Sakarian name.

Before she made it harder for him, Saul decided the best course of action would be to switch the subject. 'The best defense is offense', he mused.

Out loud, he said : "And what brings the two of you to Sakaria? I understand your father is considered a war hero or something like that, no?" The latter part was aimed at Nara, naturally.

Phoebe looked out from under her lenses at Nara. She was learning more and more about her young friend at every turn. She had no idea that Nara's father was a hero. Though, she did fancy Nara to be something of a warrior in her own right. She had the bearing and demeanor one would often associate more with a Klingon than a Betazoid.

Nara rolled her eyes and sighed. He was avoiding the question. She looked him in the eye, "Something like that. I live there. I am a native and citizen of that planet. If I find out you're exploiting anyone or anything about Sakaria, I'll inform the authorities. Exploitation is one reason we like to keep to ourselves." With that Nara turned in her seat. She hadn't exactly answered WHY she was going home. It was hard to explain really. Sometimes you just need to go home to heal.

"Hey, I'm not going to do anything illegal, I'm a Starfleet Officer lema'an Hashem." Saul said in a protective manner. Inwardly, he failed to understand why he had to defend himself in front of that woman.

"Everything we do is legit." he couldn't resist adding the family motto. "Since Sakaria is not the most open planet in the universe, some Sakarian commodities are considered very rare. I'm going to buy cheap and sell at higher price."

Nara looked at him. She didn't like it, but if whoever he was doing business with was ok with it, then fine. Nara's mother had even found a replica of some statue they had made about her father in some star base gift shop. It seemed as within a short time Sakaria would be more well-known than it wished. Well more than she wished. She just wished the war was over by then. Nara looked him up and down and nodded, "Good." She turned back around to check the scans and asked, "Where do you plan to stay while you're there?"

"Do you have any recomendations?" Saul didn't think about that, actually. He figured he'd find some acceptable motel near whatever Spaceport they'll land in.

Nara thought a moment. There really were few "safe" places. "There's a transportation pad at the Spaceport. There's only a few boarding houses and none near any spaceport. The battle kind of destroyed some." Nara grimaced remembering some fighting she and her troop did and they all but burned down one building it was so fierce. "There's a good place at the Delanie Province."

"That's good to know. I knew I made the right choice taking this ride with someone who's native to Sakaria." Saul said. "Where will you be staying? Perhaps it might be a good idea for us to stay near each other."

Nara let out a short laugh shaking her head. "I'll be going to my home in the Sholos Valley. My parents keep a house there. My mother is on the USS Ramone, and my father is likely still in battle." Nara crinkled her nose, "I actually feel kind of guilty showing up and not fighting." She took a deep breath, "But I was told I was not to get involved while commissioned to a ship."

"I'll most likely be keeping as close to Naranda as possible." Phoebe said. "She knows the lay of the land, whereas I've never even seen the planet. So, it will be safest in her company, I'd think."

Nara nodded, "She'll be staying in the valley home with me."

Saul slanted his eyes toward Phoebe. "Miranda lady", he began, realizing he doesn't know her name, "Are you coming to Sakaria on your own errands, or simply as company to Naranda here?"

Phoebe met the Intelligence Officer's eyes, and smiled. "A bit of both. First and foremost, I am Naranda's friend. So, the trip is bit of a pleasure jaunt on that note. But... I'm also a scientist. So, visitng a new world- one my bootprints are yet to mar, that is- and meeting new people... experiencing a new culture. That is always on my list of 'to-dos'. Starfleet credo, and all that sort of thing you know- seek out new life and so on and so forth..."

"To boldly go." Saul's voice turned dreamy for a moment. "That's perhaps the main reason I joined Starfleet. I wonder how many people join for the same reason nowdays."

"My name's Phoebe, by the way. Phoebe Ellen Ivers." the extended a hand to him. "And your name is... I'm sorry... about some things I have a terrible memory."

"It's not your memory's fault, we haven't spoken before." Saul said, extending his hand. "Saul Bental of the Galaxy... a pleasure to meet you."

"Saul ? Bental ?" Phoebe ran the names over on her tonuge like she were tasting them. "Jewish ? Am I right ? Isreali ? There was a Jewish woman in my father's team for years. Wonderful people. Fascinating history. That's one thing I must give cudos to Earth on. So many different peoples and cultures. Not like, say, Qo'noS. Everyone speaks the same language there, if you take my meaning. For my part, I'm from England."

"Jewish yes, but my family is originated from the Netherlands. The last several generations lived on some colony in the Outlands, not really interesting."

Once again, it was a time to switch subjects. "I'm sure there are different people and cultures on Sakaria as well, but I'm afraid I'm not very familiar with the planet's history. Perhaps Nara can share some Sakarian lore with us later on this trip... why did you compare Earth to Qo'noS? Don't tell me you're a Klingon in disguise!"

"Not the last time I checked, I wasn't." Phoebe replied with a laugh. "No, I was simply making a comparisons of culture. On Earth you have so many different languages, cultures, religions; so many different ways of life. On a lot of other worlds- Qo'noS, Vulcan, Romulus; and meaning no offense to any of them: but you have the one culture. The singular set of beliefs. The one language. And to someone like me- the daughter of an archeologist who loved to fill his little girl's head with all he could cram in there on different times and different peoples, I find diversity very fascinating, and quite comforting."

"Perhaps the lack of diversity is the sign of a unified species. Five centuries ago on earth, I think it was called 'globalization'."

Saul was glad to find a person you could discuss history with. It was one of his favorite areas of interest, but he rare could find someone to chat with about ages past.

"In Earth's case." he continued, "Don't forget that independent countries actually existed up to the moment of the Federation's foundation, and some even later. I think that as centuries go by that diversity would slowly become the realm of history books and tales. I mean, in the past, the people of Earth didn't even have a common language!"

Nara smiled at the two chattering. She wanted to mention something but waited for a pause and there seemed to be one now. "I must tell you something of Sakaria before we get there." She thought how best to explain it, "As I mentioned before, we are weary of outsiders. Well they more than me. Visitors are not unwelcome, but we wonder why in the universe you chose to come to a mainly war torn planet. There are a few peaceful places as both sides agreed not to go near our most cultural areas of schools, museums and such. Those places are where we will stick to." She turned to Saul, "I don't know where your friend is, but I suggest you meet him at one of those places. He'll know where they are." She looked at Phoebe, "Just expect weird looks." She smiled at them both turning in her seat. She thought a moment of Saul. "If you wish to stay near, we'll see if there is an empty room in the village." Her people weren't unkind at all. After an initial "What are THEY doing here?" they warm up to questions and become quite friendly.

"An empty room would be great if you don't mind the intrusion." Saul said happily, the furrowed his brow. "To tell the truth, I wasn't aware that there's still fighting, I was under the impression that there was a cease fire, or at least so I was told... I will CERTAINLY take precautions and meet my friends only in the culture centers."

With that, he turned silent, gazing at the shuttle's viewing screen. He was lied to, and he didn't like that one bit.

Nara nodded, "There is a cease fire, but there is still a non-soldier ban in most areas. There is still a lot to clean up..." Nara smiled winking at Cernu and Phoebe, "and mines to clear out." She sighed, "And all's fair in love and war and you never know when someone will get agitated and start it all up again. Things are going to be uneasy till the treaty is signed. Then there's even a long time for the trust to really build. Peace takes a long time." Nara really thought war was a ridiculous way to settle anything. Funny contradiction in her, but she felt sometimes war was just in the destiny. It comes before peace.

Nara saw a small orb ahead and smiled larger than she had in a long time as she looked wistfully at it. Even being marred by war it was beautiful, "There she is."

"Lovely." Saul Bental murmured, still deep in thought.

As they approached orbit, Nara gained landing permission and began decent. After a safe landing and permission to exit, she stood and gathered her bags. "The nearest transporter pad to the village is 20 kilometers. There is transportation, but personally I'd like to walk. Nara looked at them smiling, "But I'll leave it to you."

"Ladies first." Saul agreed, gesturing at the Transporter pad.

She walked out and stood on the transporter pad with the rest and prepared to be beamed.

The shuttle landing yard and transporter offices are in a protected area and therefore are surrounded by lush greenery. Some terrans would compare it to Ireland without all the fog. The planet-wide climate is much like that of Earth's Florida or California. The group transported to another transporter office and stepped out of the doors into a vehicle yard. There were vehicles for rent, "taxi" services and even manually propelled devices: bikes, skateboards, scooters and skates.

They decided to walk along the concrete-like roads leading to the village. On that way there were homes, market places, etc. On the horizon you can see tall white buildings where the university and museum are located for that area. Schools and museums and libraries etc are all in one building set on each continent. Each continent is about the size of Earth's Austrialia give or take 1000 square feet.

Then they approached where they would be spending the next few days. Nara's parent's house looks much like a cabin, but larger.

Upon going inside Nara walked over to a console that was blinking. It was a message from her mother saying she could not get leave to come home, and her father was in delegations during the peace talk and could not be disturbed. Nara was dissappointed but understood. The inside is like a cabin as well. Modern (star trek modern) but with wood covering most things to keep a natural look. The house is two story and large. There is a large living room and replicator/kitchen area and dining room downstairs, as well as a guest room. Upstairs are the master bedroom, Nara's room and a study. As well as a few other rooms. There is a bathroom in both bedrooms as well as one downstairs. There are just sonic showers in the upstairs, and a bathtub/shower downstairs using water. There is a lot of dark brown and dark green with hints of royal purple. There is a tree-like statue in the middle of the table in the living room. There are faint carvings in it: sakarian symbols. There are also large windows throughout the house.

Nara turned to her friends and smiled and began thinking where everyone could stay.

"One Last Death"

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

On the press of a trigger, James very well expected to die.

Timing a beam out during an explosive decompression without catching a corpse was a hard task, and if James didn't die, he would have to experience his second painful exposure to space in his entire career.

But his mind was made up, and a phaser beam already lanced towards the EPS conduit, the very one linked to the section's forcefields… forcefields between himself and a cold, harsh vacuum.

The Breen knew this too, and even space was a tad bit too chilly for them!

First came the shock, as the Breen of the Terinax 8th Guard watched in abject horror at the human's unpredictable recklessness. They were in shock before that the human security chief would even consider throwing his life away to wipe out his enemy, for they were taught that humans were spineless and lacked the fortitude to make such sacrifices. But when Corgan followed through, the Breen broke down and prepared to fire.

Too late, the EPS conduit exploded in a fury of sparkling shrapnel. A supernova of light and concussive force, the conduit's final hold on the forcefields yielded. The flickering, red silken fields disappeared.

Next was the rush of air being sucked out into open space. The noise similar to having an ear on a starship's manoeuvring thrusters pounded Corgan like a crashing tsunami. His feet lifted up against his will as he started to vault into space.

He felt the tingle of a transporter deep in his chest, as he first started to materialize. The Breen, wild in their confusion, fired at James. Their shots went wide as they were swept in the current of vacating air.

James felt his safety assured as the transporter consumed his body.

But then again, he didn't quite anticipate an attack from his own phaser, one he discarded in the fight. It was one of the many pieces of debris that was also sucked up, and it barrelled in fast, filling James entire vision, until its impact caused him to see nothing but stars…

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

He woke to a wincing pain on his forehead. As his vision was still hazy, he felt around for the offending wound, and hissed in pain as his fingers pressed on a swelling bump. The wound still throbbed sorely, and James cursed the damned phaser that caused his head to hurt so. Under star filled sight, he tried to make sense of his new surroundings, railing at the ponderously slow speed it took to regain composure. He stood up, stumbled once as nausea washed over him. He felt hands! More than a set of hands! Hands propping the security chief up, accompanied by voices of concern and fright.

"Sir! Sir! Stay Still! You've had quite a shock!" One of the voices demanded.

His vision started to clear some more. He could make the hazy sights of the transporter pad. Looking around, he saw a blurry transporter console, partially blackened and charred, and a bedraggled transporter operator. So'ka and Hanley were at his side, propping him up.

"Status…" James groaned. The words sent rivulets of pain in his head.

"Sir, you should sit down! You took quite a hit to the head." Hanley failed, though attempted, to still his commander.

"Sir, what were you thinking?! Blasting yourself into space like that was reckless. What would our defense do without you?" So'ka chided.

Corgan groaned as he fought back the urge to choke. "Is it over?" "It's over, sir. We fought them off." Hanley bragged out of relief, "Two to one casualty rating in our favour. The Breen elite didn't expect such a stiff resistance from us."

As his vision cleared to crystal clarity, Corgan soldiered through his throbbing headache. "How long was I out?" "Five minutes, Sir. The attack itself ended a few minutes ago. We are just receiving reports from all over the ship…"

So'ka intervened, in abject awe, "We were watching your fight from the transporter room, sir. We never expected you to survive. How in the hell did you manage to hold out like that?"

James didn't want to explain. He said, coldly, "Experience."

Far away, a distant voice rang out in distress. Footfalls offended James ears and pounded at his swollen skull as the new intruder repeated the clarion call of 'SIR! SIR!'. A messenger, panting for breath and frightened out of her wits, readjusted the rifle that hung limply from her slumping shoulders, as ragged breaths escaped her pursed lips. Her uniform, scorched and tattered, her forehead bleeding, while her tangled, shoulder length curls were streaked with soot.

"SIR! We have a problem!" The female security officer cried out between breaths. Corgan groaned, "Christ… so do I. Do you have an asperin?"

"SIR!" She yelled, "Come quick! It's the security department! We've been bombed!"

Headaches and bumps seemed minor, compared to the bile that rose up in his throat. His throat constricted around him like an unseen strangling hand, and his stomach churned like a boiling pot. James was paralyzed. His people were there. Tekri was there, in the Brig, and quite possibly the most helpless. He was not, and should have been.

"Holy sh*t… how did this happen." His voice took on an increased anger, "How bad? Are there survivors?"

"I'm one of them…" The security officer wailed, allowing the tears to run freely, her exhausted body slumped. "There are not many. Sir, there were so many wounded inside… we barely held the 8th guard off… but the Breen… they kept coming… and one threw a satchel into the middle of the room. Sir… it… oh god…"

~"No…"~ Corgan rested a reassuring hand on the young officer's shoulder. "Take it easy, ensign. Rest here."

"Sir… they were helpless in there…" The officer hiccupped.

Corgan spoke in a soothing, caring voice. "I'll go over there and assess the situation. Sit down and let the medics look you over. You're rattled enough as is… it won't help if you keep running yourself to the ground like this. Sit. Rest. I'll handle it from here, Ensign."

The officer sobbed, "Thank you, Sir… but…"

"I know, Ensign." He calmly reassured her, "I know. You fought well, and you came to tell me. You fought well, just like the rest of the department. Nobody can fault you for that."

The curly haired Ensign looked up to her commanding officer, braving a smile amidst her tears. Ensign Satler, that was the name James recalled, once had crystalline blue eyes, cut from glaciers as rich as her accent. She was one of the new officers, not yet blooded in battle, until now. To witness an atrocity of such a depth as to turn her gemstone irises into ash gray… James did not want to wonder about its impact. The scope of what she saw, James could tell from his own experiences, no doubtedly blocked the celebration of her efforts to protect the ship. Doubt of her own abilities would blind her, that James read in her haunted face.

The immediate concern was of his ex-girlfriend's well being. Satler was ok for now, and a talk would be needed in the future as soon as she had time to come to terms with what she saw. The immediate concern of his security department, and his prisoner, had to be taken care of now, and he wasted no time in running.

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

Satler's description, much censored and most likely unwilling to come out due to her frayed nerves, did not do justice to the destruction Corgan witnessed.

It was enough to move him to tragic tears.

Security central was once a model of efficiency, a bustling centre of activity where the internal monitoring and security of the ship was conducted. Orderly and clean, and with the best officers James could eke out of BUPERS, James security department was in some ways the envy of Starfleet. Now, high tech equipment was all but useful, blown out in charred heaps, as consoles spilled their electronic guts on the floor. Melted platics and charred silicon offended his nose as they mixed with the blood and burnt flesh. Bulkhead twisted and warped into jagged spires, and blown out transparent aluminum shards crackled under his feet. The lighting was yet to be restored, so he saw what he could through a wrist lamp, showing only limited tunnellike views of the once proud security centre. It was all James felt he could handle, and dared not for the lights to be restored, lest he be exposed to the destruction in all of it's horror, and fall swoon because of it.

Lieutenant E'xch, the officer in charge of security central at the time, a rather braggadocios Denobulan at the best of times, was dead serious as he talked to his commander.

"Terinax 8th guard." E'xch spoke frankly, staying sane under the pressure to break, "They rushed us in swarms. At first, they surprised us and took out a few of our sentries. But once our defense stiffened, they were less successful. Engineering barely held out, as did the Transporters we needed to keep our mobility. The bridge survived intact, our teams held out well in that section. The civilian shelters and sickbay only had some sporatic resistance. However… security central was the hardest hit, Sir. They just kept beaming in. We tried our damnest, but they kept coming. One of them broke through and tossed that insidious bomb."

"How many survivors?" Corgan stuttered.

E'xch nodded. "Eight security officers. Myself, Satler, Selemak and a few of the wounded. All of us were injured in some fashion, Sir. Fifteen others are dead, four from the firefight that collapsed our left flank, the others wounded who were trying to find safety."

"Tekri… where is she?" Corgan demanded, shaking his security lieutenant.

"Sir… I don't know!" E'xch cried out, "We received her in the brig. When the bomb hit, we lost power to this section, including the forcefields. She might have made it out, I'm not sure, but the brig wasn't as badly damaged as the rest of the security section. All I know is that she is gone."

"Gone…? No… NO! She can't be gone! Computer!" The urgent security chief barked, "Romulan lifesigns! How many?"

The computer did not reply.

"F**king hell! E'xch, I want to confirm Tekri's whereabouts! She might still…" "Sir… she's gone." Cut in one of the salvaging security officers, another bedraggled person in a sooty uniform carrying a noticeable limp and a bloodied bandage on his cheek, "I was guarding the brig. I couldn't stop her…"

James halted the officer's rambling, shellshocked tirade. The incident would most definitely mar the security department's performance despite what was to be a brilliant effort in defending the ship. The security department's office now unusable, an escaped assassin, many casualties under waves of enemy reinforcements that kept coming… nobody in Starfleet could paint a Kahless epic out of a tragedy like this.

James was death. Everything around him died or decayed. Renewal and rebirth forgotten to the immediate concerns. He felt his ability to lead properly lost, felt responsibility for those deaths, knew in his heart that he could have prevented it if he was only there, and not out doing a selfish sacrifice.

He also lost his self respect before the incident. His inexperience wrapped him in a relationship he couldn't handle, and not only was he viewed as corruptible, but incompetent (so he saw himself). Tekri, a woman he cared deeply for and sent to the brig first for her safety, almost died because of him. He put the woman he loved in unnecessary danger.

His selfishness and yearning for closeness nearly killed a crewmate.

And now his glorious fight to the death caused the death of many others he did not intend to kill. And with an assassin free, many more might ensue. To all those consequences, James could only think one thought…

~"How can I make up for all this?"~

"Don't worry. After this…" Corgan kicked aside a burnt out chunk of metal, talking to himself as well as the injured security officer. "I wouldn't expect you to."

~Bad Trip, Part IV

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

****

After Corran and Ella had helped Curtis to sit down (the man appeared to be both absorbed and in pain from whatever he was experiencing), she sat down against the rock to rest in the semi shade.

Or at least tried to.

First she started tapping her foot.

Then her fingers. Then wringing her hands.

If only the others weren't so slow, Ella thought in annoyance as she controled the urge to increase the beat of her foot. She'd get to the cave in no time if they weren't there to slow her down. She felt like she had enough energy to win the Iron Man competition at this point.

If only she had some sunscreen, more water, and no one else to hinder her, she'd be all set.

Though the wind was blowing sand around at a normal pace, it felt to Curtis as if he was being bombarded with 10-ton weights. Each speck of sand was felt and caused a sensation of pain to shoot through the Kerelian's nervous system. He wasn't sure how long he could stand it and the odds were looking rather short.

"You should....go on...." the OPS officer said, seeing the frustrated expression on Ella's face, "It's not far, and you're in....better condition....no sense in us all dying out here."

~~Don't be stupid.~~ Ella's hands snapped.

"I just don't know if I can keep going...." Curtis managed, "If you could only feel it...it's as if all of my sense are working like my hearing.....only my hearing is even better than it was....." the Kerelians expression darkend in pain, "I hear...all. I see all.....I am aware of all...."

As he spoke these words, the fatigue of his newfound senses finally overtook him, and he collapsed in an unconscious heap.

Ella jumped over to see if he was alright. Thankfully, he still was breathing and his heartbeat was steady. But still.... ~~Damn this stupid planet. I hate it here! I hate it!~~

"A little overly dramatic, isn't he?" Cutter muttered, then turned and continued to move up the rock slope.

With a quick glance back at the incapacitated OPS officer, Corran turned to the Fruna'lin who seemed so intent on moving on without them. He was amazed that he could still move forward at such a steady pace, when Rex himself could barely lift a finger. Ella was even more baffling. "Where are you going?" he asked, his voice was slightly accusatory.

"Curtis asked us to move on without him. He can sit in the lee of that stone, but I'm going to look for better shelter," Cutter said, emotionless, barely slowing in his pace as he did so. Corran assumed it was a sign of some exhaustion, that Cutter's well displayed discontent had retreated to tonal subtlety.

"You can't just leave him here!"

The demand caused Cutter to stop and turn around several yards ahead of the other three. He let out a heavy sigh, his displeasure broadcasting like a communications relay, "Fine. You stay here! Ella and I will go look ourselves." There was a pause, but before anyone could respond, Cutter snapped, "Stop signing! Neither of us can understand it! Now is *not* the time to be a voluntary mute!"

Ella stared at Cutter and then slowly and deliberatly flipped him the bird.

Cutter snapped something back in his native language.

~~Bring it on, Birdboy!~~ Ella signed as she stood up slowly.

"Stop it, both of you!" Corran intervened. The Trill, although he looked exhausted, had gathered up enough energy to stand between them. Maybe it was because of the influence of a newly coherent Rex, Ella thought.

In any case, she backed down.

"Cutter and I will scout ahead." Corran said. "You stay here with Curtis. We'll try to make it back before it gets dark."

Ella nodded and watched as they left.

She still stuck her tongue out at the Fruna'lin as he left though.

"Alleys of Sakaria"

Ensign Saul Bental
Intelligence Officer
USS Galaxy

Sakaria. Until I got here, I knew almost nothing of the planet. It is still a place of more questions than answers, as both the place and its people continue to puzzle me.

It is also here, in this internally torn paradise, that I take my first step toward what I'm trying to accomplish.

****

The Tabbah center was just as Nara described it to Saul - a typical Sakarian cultural center. The single, gigantic structure was architectonically aesthetic, embedding inside it many schools, universities, libraries, museums and shops. It sprawled across fields of wheat-like crops, away from the fighting.

For the first time in days, Saul was in his Starfleet uniform. He wore it proudly, marching through the most crowded paths. The Sakarians, like Nara warned him, seemed suspicious – but he did nothing to provoke him. Here, he patted the head of a small child who approached him curiously. And there, he stopped to admire a street artist's work, and even bought a painting.

He gave them the 'Perfect Starfleet Officer' act. He wanted to be noticed.

Once he decided he pulled enough attention, he headed straight to one of the shops in the fifth level of the center.

The shop was an interesting concept – a mix of a pub and an antiques shop. The walls were made of dark green bricks, and many shelves rested against them. The tables were oval-shaped, most of them unoccupied at this time of the day, between breakfast and lunch.

Saul approached the counter, beaming at the stout elder man who stood there, cleaning a jag with a wet towel.

"Long time no see! How're you doing?"

The man placed the jag hastily on the counter. " You're not supposed to be here! What do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

"Enjoying your fine establishment. Could you please ask the lovely lady in the kitchen to make me a beverage? You know which, my favorite."

The Sakarian flashed an apprehensive glance at the door, went around the counter, and grabbed Saul's elbow.

"I don't know you sir, and I haven't seen you in my life!" he exclaimed.

"We do have a lot to catch up!"

With that, the man dragged him to the rear, quickly opened a door to what appeared to be a mix of an office and a tool room, and closed the door behind them.

"Mr. Bental, are you insane?"

"My Starfleet counselor told me I'm OK." Saul blinked innocently. "She told me I could keep my lovely Starfleet uniform and continue boldly going where no Starfleet Officer has gone before – your shop for instance."

"Do you have ANY idea what you have done?" The stout Sakarian almost whined.

"Yes." Saul answered, his voice stiff and sharp like the blade of a dagger. "I drew the attention of both warring factions at your little place. I'm sure agents from both sides are following me since I appeared with this lovely costume, wondering what my whereabouts are."

The Sakarian's face looked wild, as though his was considering the murder of the Intelligence officer in front of him.

"You weren't even supposed to…"

"I was supposed to meet you on Eretz-ir town, this evening. It was very nice of you to set up a meeting in a war zone, but I had the feeling that you're not going to show up. Perhaps, I might've encountered a group of renegade Sakarian soldiers instead, who knows."

There was silence for a moment, as the Sakarian digested the fact that Saul somehow discovered his little sham, and the possible consequences.

"Now, I can be a VERY loud customer, Karoue, but I can also leave immediately once we conclude our business together."

"I have no business with a Bental." Karoue folded his arms. Saul smiled inwardly as he noticed sweat stains emerging near the man's armpits. Amazing how some alien species resembled Humans.

"You don't have business with THIS Bental, you mean. But you do have with most of the others; otherwise you wouldn't have recognized my face. Rule number one – if you don't want to find yourself out of business, you don't make this meeting common knowledge. If any of the others think you're allied with me, you're going to have a very hard time even here in Sakaria."

Karoue visibly tried to calm himself down. "Bental or not, I don't like bullying."

'Me neither.' Thought Saul, reflecting on his childhood.

"No bullying! Everything we do is legit."

The Sakarian rolled his eyes.

"I want to know if anyone from my family is involved in weapons smuggling to Sakaria or any other trade." Saul asked, thinking about his hostess this time.

"They used to until half a year ago, mostly Orion weapons. But Sakaria is no big operations and with the cease fire all the trade I know of is under the supervising eye of the government."

"All of it?" Saul leaned forward, trying to look threatening.

"All of it."

"You do realize I'm going to double-check it.", Saul bluffed.

"All of it."

"That's good." Saul smiled, relaxing his muscled a little. "Do you know when the next meetings are?"

The Sakarian looked baffled. "You mean you don't know?"

"I mean I don't know how much of it came out and to who. You're the company's number one representative on Sakaria, I'm interested to know how much Devoss keeps you in the loop.".

"Actually, there's one representative who's more big-time than me, in case you didn't know."

"These things can change Karoue." Saul stated. The Sakarian rubbed his hands together.

"Now, since I'm in this Starfleet thing, there are a few things I DON'T know. I'm going to cross-reference of course, but I'm giving you the honor of being my first source."

"My pleasure." The Sakarian replied. It seemed like Saul didn't need to do much in order to persuade him. He wondered how difficult this would've been if the rest of his family knew about this trip to Sakaria.

"All right then." Saul began. "I want to know where Rosenthal is. I want to know what's new at Devoss'. I want to know which Sakarian commodities I can buy cheap here and sell for a good price in Sector 001. I want to know… everything."

****

As night descended upon Sakaria, Saul slipped quietly through the back door, unnoticed. There were many new things he needed to verify, but a plan began to form in his head.

More correctly, alterations to the plans he was having for years now, nearly a decade.

It was all coming together.

"Girl Talk"

*backpost, before the mission*

Ensign T'Pol (8-ball) Hunter
Lt. Ella Grey

****

8-ball put a dime in the jukebox of Big Man's bar on the holodeck and sat back down in her booth, waiting for Ella to show up. For probably the first time in her entire life, 8-ball was actually early for something, and she figured out why she didn't do it more often.  She was utterly bored.

To start a game of pool or join in a poker game, though, would be inadvisable, no matter how much 8-ball desperately wanted to start. She was on shift in an hour or so, and if she decided to start playing poker or pool now, it would probably take about six large men. . .or Scary Man Victor Krieghoff. . .to get her out of her before dawn.  .  .if there was a dawn on a board of a starship. Therefore, no cards, no darts, and most unfortunately, no booze.  Sodapop all the way.

8-ball took another sip of her soda and saw Ella enter the room out of the corner of her eye. "El!" she called, and waved her over. "Over here!"

Ella waved hello. This bar had a similar air to the one that Victor had programed for her fight training and she found that she had almost missed this atmosphere. She would have to get Victor to start training her again when there was more time.

She smiled as 8-ball passed her a cup of soda. It had been awhile. Ella tilted her head as if to ask how 8-Ball was doing.

"Oh, good-ish.  You know, same ole, same ole.  Little science work here, more partying there. . .I don't change, really.  You?"

Ella smiled and reached for a pretzel. She gave a thumbs up.

"Well, that's good.  So I figured I hadn't seen you in awhile, and I'm like, hey, I have a free hour, why not chat up the only friend I got on this boat, right?  Well, funny story, sorta.  Not so long ago, I was waiting to get into the holodeck and, you know, kick ass at pool, and this intensely freaky man comes out, right?  So I'm backing up into the wall, trying to hide, and then I realize, wow, this is Victor, your studmuffin, so I told him how he really needed to just seriously make out with you, and he was very grrrrrrr-like and he-man, and I'm thinking you better just jump him soon because he's obviously too enamored of his whole me-tiger-you-sheep scenario to do anything about you guys, and if he's as scary as he seems to be, I'm not sure sexual frustration is good for his soul."

Ella started to nod and then suddenly coughed hard on her pretzel. That's what happened when you tried to speak and eat and breathe at the same time apparently.

8-ball raised an eyebrow. "You okay there, Commander and Chief?"

*YOU WHAT?!!!!* Ella wrote on her computer PADD.

"I ran into Victor.  We chatted a bit, in here, incidentally.  I know you said he was a stubborn ass but I seriously underestimated the frustration that that boy can cause."  8-ball took a sip of her soda and shook her head with a smile. "You sure can pick 'em, sweetie."

*SKIP TO THE PART WHERE YOU TOLD HIM HE NEEDED TO MAKE OUT WITH ME.*

"Well, we got into this discussion how he doesn't deserve you and he's the ultimate evil and he needs to rot in hell for all of eternity, and that got boring, so I mentioned that you wouldn't like that so much and tried to give him some pointers, told him he should start calling you by your first name, and that that he should just forget all his broody blah self and just make out with you.  I mean, it's obvious you guys are supposed to get together.  You love him, he loves you. . .star crossed lovers on a ship crossing stars. . .it'd be cute if it wasn't so annoying."

*AND YOU TOLD HIM I FELT THAT WAY?*

"Well, not the star crossing bit, but I think I made it pretty clear there was something," 8-ball said. "I mean, the subtle approach?  Not the way to work with your guy.  I think he'd have a hard time with the concept of happiness if you hit him in the head with a hammer soaked in it."

Ella groaned and burried her face in her hands. Sure Curtis had sorta hinted to Victor that she had feelings for him but to have one of her girlfriends say so was like writing it in permanent ink or something. She could only hope that Victor wouldn't understand, which was likely.

8-ball patted her on the shoulder. "There, there.  Look, you shouldn't worry so much.  More than likely, Victor isn't going to listen to me anyway, cause, c'mon, who does?  I'm not entirely what one would consider a credible person, I don't think.  Alcoholic half Vulcans more interested in screwing than star gazing probably would never be held as model citizen of the year. But if there's a chance that he did, then what's the harm?  It's not like you two could get any worse."

~~I think I could kill you right now.~~ Ella signed and then rolled her eyes and pulled out her computer PADD again. *I DONT WANT HIM TO KNOW, 8. HE JUST COULDN'T DEAL, YOU KNOW? AND WE WOULDNT BE FRIENDS ANYMORE.*

From somewhere behind them, a crashing sound of one holodeck character throwing another into a wooden table and smashing it to pieces could be heard. 8-ball barely registered it. "I don't believe you," she said, "you of all people, trying to give me that 'let's just be friends' bit.  You can't just be friends with someone you're in love with---it'd drive you mad.  Sooner or later, it's going to come up, and besides, it's not like this is a one-sided attraction.  Just because your love muffin is totally fucked in the head, doesn't mean that he doesn't like you."  She took a sip of her soda, musing. "I kind of liked him, though.  He has a sort of annoying charm to him.  A sort of 'I hate you and I want you to die but you're kind of funny' ambience.  Oh, and it's not polite to sign at people when they don't know sign language, by the way.  That's sort of mean."

*I WASNT SAYING ANYTHING BAD... THAT TIME* Ella typed with a smile. *BESIDES, I CAN WORSHIP FROM AFAR AND NOT GO CRAZY. I MUST HAVE DONE IT SOMETIME IN MY YOUTH.* Ella frowned as she tried to remember.

8-ball waited for a whole minute as Ella thought about it before she said, "Uh-huh.  Yeah, you're really proving me wrong now.  Fear the great debating prowess of Ella." 8-ball munched on a pretzel. "Besides," she said, now idly playing with the pretzels, "you're an idiot.  You and Victor are destined to do something other than talk about pain and suffering and sheep.  You've gone through way too much with this guy to not even smooch him a little."

*WHY DO WE ALWAYS TALK ABOUT MY LOVELIFE OR LACK THEREOF? WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO AMUSE ME WITH YOUR TALES OF WOE?*

"Because I don't have any tales of woe," 8-ball said nonchantly, attemping and failing to make the pretzels balance on each other in a great pretzel house. "I live a carefree life of science, sex, drinking, and no commitments.  I don't believe in relationships: I can't imagine staying with anyone long enough without attempting to murder him, or vica versa.  Sex is far too much fun for love to enter into the picture and fuck everything up."

Ella gave a loud sigh. *I WISH I COULD GO BACK TO WHEN LIFE WAS THAT SIMPLE.* She then perked up considerably. *I KNOW AN ENSIGN FROM OPS THAT YOU WOULD JUST LOOOVE.*

"Yeah? Is he hot? Is he anti-Starfleet? Hot, anti-Starfleet boys do it for me everytime."

The engineer laughed, then eeeped slightly as a chair was suddenly tossed over her head. *IS THE PROGRAM SUPPOSED TO DO THAT?*

8-ball shrugged. "Yeah. I figured I couldn't really make a bar without programing in a few barfights every now and then. Bars aren't meant to be safe and wholesome. Still, it won't get out of hand. I don't like out of hand. I might have to, like, put in effort."

A man was sent careening over the bar as another man starting a duel with the bartender. He cracked the cue stick over the bartender's head. 8-ball watched this and then looked back at Ella with a shrug. "Well, I think it won't get out of hand."

They both watched another man get tossed around for a moment and then returned to girl talk.

"Forced Shore-leave"
Lieutenant Brianna Catherine O'Shea
Starfleet Corp of Engineers Specialist
with
Lt. Commander Sean Ericsson, NPC
Lt. Torias Aries, Intel Officer, SB212, PPC

::: Starbase 212, SCE Hub :::

Standing there in the hub looking at the Galaxy, Anna was enthralled with all the points of interest. She's spent months worth of long shifts to get to this point. Now she was watching as things began to move around and the flicker of lights showing the teams wielding and repairing the galaxy class vessels hull.

"Lieutenant," A male voice said making Brianna turn. "What are you doing here so early?" 'Commander Erickson said as he walked over to stand beside her.

"You know me, always been kind of partial to the Galaxy, Sir. Just watching the repairs done, feeling the anticipation of the old Enterprises Saucer section building." She said then smiled as she looked over as a worker 'bee' pod moved a piece into place. "It's like watching a ballet, Sir." She commented.

"It is indeed," He said then looked at her. "We can do without you though for a few days... you've put a lot of work and time in, want you to take some shore leave. Not much you can do right now."

"Sir?" Anna asked, slightly shocked.

"You heard me, Lieutenant. Take some shore leave. Find some friends, make some friends, a trip down to the planet.. just don't want to se your face any where near the Galaxy or in this hub for a while."

"Yes, Sir." Brianna said then turned and walked out.

Walking around the promenade, the Irish girl folded her arms over her body and moved through the flow of people. Disappointed that she was forced into shore leave, when she could be of service with repairs.

"Catherine."

Brianna turned, someone had used her middle name. she say a Trill man walking toward her. Dressed in black uniform, marking the Intelligence branch. "Do I know you?" She asked, unfamiliar with the man.

He smiled. "It's me, Aries."

"Aries?!" She said looking him up and down. "What happened to Jerel?" Brianna asked as she looked at him.

"Jerel was died, he served the Klingon High Command for many successful years."

"Wow... I just never thought Jerel would die, he was so strong and had presence."

"His presences is still in me, Catherine, he then extended his hand. "I'm Torias Ares, tenth host of the Aries symbiont." He said then smiled.

"Nice to meet you, you'll have to forgive me. Just learned Jerel has died, now he's inside you." She said then grinned. "I'm Brianna, but then you know that."

Aries grinned. "Yeah, you'll find that I know everything Jerel knew."

"Oh Lord, don't say that. I'll blush." She said as they began to walk and talk. "Tell me about yourself."

"Jerel is considered one of the great hosts for me, after the actions of Benzali Aries, Jerel was the one that restored Aries to respect rather then being feared and hated. Needless to say, the symposium wasn't thrilled with Benzali, but was happy to see jerel turned it all around."

"Jerel had great difficult with Benzali's memories, plagued him very much." Anna replied.

"Yes, he found refuge learning meditation from the Vulcan's, such as the monastery on the planet below." Torias said as they walked.

"Really, think you could arrange a runabout for me to use. I'd like to go down to the planet and look around."

"For a old friend, anything... I'll make the arrangements for runabout pad three." Torias said.

"Thanks... give me just enough time to go change into something more comfortable. Feed Peckerwood and then head down." She said they walked for about ten minutes more before parting. Heading to her quarters she then changed, fed her dog and then turned and headed out to runabout pad three.

"Sakaria the Beautiful"

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell,
Engineering, Galaxy

Ensign Saul Bental,
Intelligence, Galaxy

Nara had decided to stay in her own room, giving Saul the guest room downstairs off the kitchen. Phoebe was called to Earth about an hour after landing, so she and Nara had to say a quick goodbye. She was settling in as she saw the sunset. She realized she was hungry. She looked down and saw someone working in his little garden. She went down and bought some vegetables from him and went to the kitchen to cook.

A few minutes later she heard foot steps behind her, and then Saul Bental was standing beside her. He sniffed the air a little, beaming at her. "What's cooking? Smells wonderful."

Nara smiled. "Sion Coula. It's a vegetable dish."

"Eatable by Humans?"

Nara looked up at him almost laughing, "I should hope so since I'm part human!"

"How silly of me!" Saul grinned. Nara noticed that he kept mostly to himself ever since they got to Sakaria, leaving the guest room only for a couple of long naps on the tall grass besides her family's cabin and a single long trip.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to help you cook... I'm the worst cook ever, but I'm sure I can help somehow."

Nara smiled. She had warmed up to him considerably. They had both worn civilian clothes since they got settled, though his were less in matching the fashion (unless he went shopping LOL). Her's were a tad out of fashion, but she never cared much anyway. There were minor changes in fashion and not enough to try to do anything about for the short stay. Behind the stove she wore a purple flowing soft skirt with a dark grey tank. She didnt adjust the climate control much for she missed the warmth of Sakaria's suns, so she was quite comfortable. Though now as the stove warmed the kitchen, she considered making it a few degrees cooler. She did show Saul the climate control for the guest room in case he wished to stay cooler in his room.

Saul had been pretty elusive lately. He seemed to like it in his room, but sometimes she spotted him resting outside. One day he was gone walking for quite awhile. She wondered if he'd visited his friend then. She still wanted to know what he was up to. But as to his question, she nodded, "If you wish."

"That's great. So what should I do?"

Nara showed him how to cut veggies, which had to be done carefully, because there was a thick icky rhine to get rid of. He learned that quickly enough.

Saul glanced outside the window as he paced from one side of the kitchen to the other. "You know, Naranda, this IS a beautiful planet, certainly worth fighting for. I wasn't so lucky - my own homeworld has dark, red-purple skies which gives you a permanent feeling of a film-noir movie. Plus it's all crowded and urban."

Nara looked at him, "What do you mean?"

"My home planet. Most people stay in the cities, because the wastelands outside aren't very hospitable. After almost two decades of being stuck there, I just needed to get out." he chuckled at some private joke. "Let's just say I would never invite anyone to visit."

Nara nodded, "That's how I feel. I wasn't intending on asking anyone to come with me, but..." She looked down and smiled and sighed as she shrugged, "Not that I'm not glad you're here." She looked at him, "Sometimes it's like you're not. You must be a loner." She then took out two plate and put the food on them handing one to Saul.

"I just need the rest, and it's not like I know any of you very well." Saul said quietly. He also had to lay low after his little 'visit', but of course Nara didn't need to know that. "Speaking of which, do you have any idea where Phoebe is?"

"She was called back to earth."

"Sail me to the moon"

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell,
Engineer

Ensign Saul Bental,
Intelligence Officer

"She was called back to earth.", said Naranda.

A sudden realization hit Saul. He was home alone for the entire trip with this beautiful - albeit a little strange - woman. What would her mom and dad say about bringing a dark stranger home? Since she didn't make a fuss about it, he didn't as well, and it wasn't like neither of them had the intention of using the empty house for anything other than relaxing...

"So how do you spend your time at home, other than cooking? I didn't stalk you, as you must've noticed. I did notice your parents aren't around, though..."

Nara smiled walking to the table. "My mother is a counselor is onboard a ship at the moment. My father is in delegations so the two sides can sign the treaty."

"But surely he can say 'hi', the Sakarian DO have transporters..." Saul murmured. "How ARE the talks going? If there's going to be peace – and not that I have any objections to that - I should sell the Sakarian commodities I bought quickly before their price will be reduced."

Nara looked at him. Just as she thought..."The talks are intense, and that’s why he doesn't need to leave, even for a moment." Her face grew hot at the last thing he spoke. She stood and put her plate back on the counter. She no longer wanted to share a table with this man. She crossed her arms pacing across the window and spoke icily not looking at him, "I cannot believe you are making profit off of a war!"

She the looked at him coldly, "Go. Sell quickly. Make your money. You (the greedy big eared species)" With at, Nara went up to her room.

Saul stood there for a moment, stunned, and then ran up after her. He got to her room just in time to have the door closed in his face. Under other conditions, he might've just given up at that point and let the woman boil, but she was so nice and hospitable toward him he just didn't want to upset her.

It was unethical.

"Naranda, may I come in?"

Nara was pacing. She was fuming. She didn’t answer.

"Listen, I realize that I pissed you off, but please understand. I know for you Sakaria is the most important thing there is - and rightfully so - but please don't be mad at me just because for me the war is just another variable in this game of trade."

He sighed. "If I had a choice between ending the war and losing all my profits, or continuing the war and make a nice fortune, I'd choose the first..."

Nara stopped as her scowl softened.

"Let me make it up to you - are there any big bodies of water nearby? Any places you can rent a sailing boat or a yacht?"

Nara opened the door and looked at him, "Just don't mention it to me again." She walked down the stairs, "No need to rent."

They walked back to the transporter pad and asked to be transported to the marina. Once there Nara walked down the pier to a man bent down. "Excuse me."

The man looked up and saw her and smiled, "Princess!"

Nara winced at the nickname. Anyone who knew of her called her that. Anyone who knew her knew better. She smiled at him, "My friends call me Nara."

"Well, you do look like a princess in that outfit... a princess in disguise!" Saul commented.

Nara glared at Saul. Though, inwardly she didn't mind one bit him calling her princess. She turned back to the man, "My family doesn't like using favors just because of my father. He did it for Sakaria, not some hero status, but my friend here would like to go sailing." She nodded at Saul, "This is Saul. I know you offered my father the use of your boat, but I'm asking as a friend not use of a favor."

"A pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm Saul Bental, from Nara's Starfleet ship. Lovely boat you have."

They shook hands in the Human tradition. As the merchant's eyes met Saul's, something gleamed in them. This merchant probably recognized his family name.

"I promise not to cause any damage to property, good sir." Saul added.

The man nodded at Saul and then smiled at the two. "You may use the boat as a friend as return of favor. Dear Nara, you do not understand how grateful we are that your father helped us win the first war. Had he not come and organized and showed us those tactical maneuvers." He shook his head. He looked back up, "I'm sure you know what waters are unsafe and please bring her back here before sundown."

Nara nodded and after seeing the man walk off, turned to Saul and nodded and stepped toward the boat.

Saul climbed on board and quickly began to prepare the boat. He helped Nara to come on board as well, although she didn't need the assistance. The boat was different from those he was familiar with, but the main idea remained the same - push water backward or catch a good wind equals moving forward. The laws of physics and fluid dynamics still applied in Sakaria. As an experienced sailor, it took Saul about fifteen minutes to get the hang of everything, and then...

And then they were in the open sea. The day was perfect. The waves were much smaller and calm than Utrecht III's, the skies were clear, and the wind was like the graceful hand of a mermaid gently stroking his cheeks.

Since Saul didn't sail an actual boat for quite some time, he was easily carried away. It took a little while for him to set the ship on auto-pilot check on his 'royal' passenger.

"Beautiful." he told her, without explaining to what he referred.

Nara smiled still looking out at the shore, "Naturally."

Saul sat next to her, a little embarrassed. He could conspire against half the galaxy and come up with the most brilliant solutions, but when he found himself alone on a yacht with a lovely lady who was a complete stranger until a week ago, he was no better than a schoolboy.

"I can see you've sailed before." Nara looked at him hoping to start a conversation.

"Yes." Saul admitted. "It's one of the few things I actually enjoy. There's something about the sea... that makes you want to go on toward the horizon forever." This sounded a little pompous in his ears, so he had to add: "Or at least until you come out of the other side..."

Nara smiled, "That's a bit comforting. Knowing you'll eventually hit land or circle the world. In space you can go on and on and ... well just keep going."

"In space, I leave the navigation to the Flight control officers. Too much responsibility!"

"Yea, 'cause you may not hit land, but there's a lot of rocks in the water." Nara laughed.

Saul joined her laughter. There was something releasing about it, about her, about the waves around them. "Solace." he murmured, stretching in his place. The sun rays fluttered across his face, making his noise and chin tingle. "Don't think we'll have much of it once we're back on board."

Nara sighed frowning, "Which is soon."

"Too soon. Sorry to have brought that up. It's sad that the responsibility chases me... us even to a place like this." he gestured around with his hand. "I just can't put it aside totally; perhaps I just can't enjoy myself."

Nara looked at him, "Well that's kind of why I came here in the first place. Blowing up mines was fun, but the way we did it." Nara looked back out at the water, "I'm still not sure how to deal with it."

"The way you did it?"

"Telepathically. I never used telepathy before that. In fact, I didn't really even use it. Cernu and Iniara were 'buffers,' but it did seem to awaken something."

Saul blinked. On one hand, it was good, since his fear that Nara could somehow read him was (Forgot the word...). Yet, on the other hand... "Telepathically? You mean there were sentient mines?"

Nara tried to remember how Cernu put it, "Not really. But there was biomaterial on them allowing someone to telepathically program them."

"Programming with the mind... wow. I must tell you, I never managed to fully comprehend the idea of real-life telepathy. For centuries, the people of Earth were taught that telepathy was magic at best. This is... quite fantastic, literally."

He covered his eyes with his hand, trying to block the sun. "What is it like?"

Nara looked up squinting at the sun thinking of how to describe it, "Surreal. You've never met a telepathic Betazoid?", she laughed.

"I never found myself with a Betazoid alone on a yacht in the middle of the ocean." Saul flashed a smile, eyes still covered. "Like many non-telepaths, I usually try to keep a fair distance from anyone who can read me. I'm sure you understand."

Nara nodded looking down at him, "It's quite frightening to allow yourself to be that vulnerable."

She was more correct than she could know. Or couldn't she? "It certainly changes the rules. I bet a telepath could help in peace talks, for example..." Nara thought a moment. Her mother used telepathy when her captain asked her to, but..."Perhaps."

"Is it hard?"

Nara looked at him confused, "Is what hard?"

"You know..." Saul removed his hand from his eyes, and pointed at his temple.

Nara shrugged, "Actually it was easier than actual programming. I just told them to destroy themselves...and they did. Course I took some backlash."

"Backlash?"

"It knocked us all unconscious. I saw the 'domino effect' start and then all went black. Next thing I know, I'm in sickbay. Didn't even get to say anything to Cernu."

"Poor princess." he extended his hand toward her head, stopped it in mid-movement, and then returned it to its place. "Is your head all right now?"

Nara almost blushed. She nodded, "For the most part. The headache was gone about a week ago, before we got here, but..." Nara wasn't sure how to explain it.

"Still echoes?" Saul tried to clarify his meaning. "When I was in boot camp - I was in my planet's citizen guard for a few months - I had this injury, and although the pain vanished after a week, it took me months until my knee felt the same. Something like that?"

Nara shrugged, "Not quite echoes even. It's kind of like a door that was never opened was opened and now it won't quite shut all the way. It feels like things are leaking. Like I can almost..." Nara laughed, "Let me try this. Like stretching a muscle you never before used." She looked down, "Frankly I'm curious about it, but scared of it at the same time. I mean just because I'm part Betazoid doesn't mean I HAVE to use telepathy..." Nara paused and looked at him, "Right?"

"I don’t know how much choice you have." Saul admitted. "Perhaps you might want to talk with someone who do know. Your department's chief is a full Betazoid, no?"

"Suder. Yes." Nara thought. "Since the doors open...I do need someone to help me shut it back." He was right. It was open whether she liked it or not. If she didn't get trained there's no telling. Her mind was more vulnerable to leaking information. She may 'read' something she isn't supposed to. No telling.

"We can't fight who we are." Saul sighed. This statement had much more meaning than what Nara could tell. "But if you don't want to use it, you certainly need to learn how to contain it. You don't like your Betazoid part much, do you?" Saul winced at his own words. Once again he allowed his tongue to loosen too much. He barely knew this woman, and already he was starting to question her relation to her heritage? Not to mention he almost patted her hair a minute ago. Or perhaps this was how it's done?

Nara looked at him, "It's not a like or dislike of the Betazoid heritage. I have no desire to be a part of it simply because I am Sakarian. The telepathy has nothing to do with the heritage. It's just I don't desire anyone to know me that well. And I have no right to see into someone's psyche if I won't allow them to see mine."

'Thank goodness ' Saul thought to himself. Unless Nara was lying, all his fears about her probing his mind were just Paranoia. "Makes sense." he told her out loud, then stood up. "Telepathy, Sakaria, Starfleet, saving the universe... I think we had enough for now. Let's leave all our worries to tomorrow, shall we?" With that, he quickly removed his shirt. "Right now, I think a swim is in order. Care to join?" Nara tried not to look at the now bare upper body of Saul and looked up at the sky. "It's almost sundown. But you can for awhile. I rather just enjoy the wind and sunset." With that she leaned back. She didn't feel it necessary to mention she had nothing suitable to swim in.

"There are no sharks on Sakaria, right?"

"That's just something you'll have to find out the hard way." Nara teased.

Saul grinned, then turned away and jumped head-first into the water. On his way down, he thought of how childish and foolish he must've appeared to her, but all bad thoughts broke to wet sprinkles as he hit the water in a splash.

****

Saul came back onboard after awhile and promised they returned the boat. Saul was somewhat dry by the time they got back to the cabin, although he did shiver. Nara heated the untouched food she had prepared earlier and they ate dinner in silent camaraderie. Tomorrow they would return to the Star base.

After she felt Saul might be asleep, she wandered outside and took a long walk. Her thoughts went here and there. She longed to go to her caves, but they were in a war zone at the moment. How she wished this would all end.

The next morning they had an uneventful trip back chatting about things like Holodeck programs and such.

When Nara returned, and with Saul's proposition in mind, she sent a message to Cernu asking if they could meet about what happened aboard Vr’lu. He said he had to go do something, but she was free to join him. So she rushed to get repacked and went to meet him.

“Jii for Ahdjiia”

(This is set straight after “Hellbore”, before “Echo”. Disclaimer - This contains material from JP “Devils cure”, episode – “There’s another life”.)

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe - Engineer

* A corridor of the USS Galaxy – floating through space during the battle*

Inside the corridor the air was thin. There was no gravity either, no inertial dampeners to soften every knock and bump. She could feel the fragment of the ship that she was in spin through space; she could feel the fire fight outside as energy bolts flew past the wreckage. She had no strength left to uncurl herself from the beam that she was wrapped around, so she just let the ‘air’ carry her, as the fragment twirled she slowly floated away from the beam.

This was the up-most moment of despair in Dhanis’ life, EVER. The most helpless. Tears of pain and anguish poured from her eyes,

“I’m not afraid.” She shouted, but it only came out as a barley audible whisper.

“I’m not afraid.” She chimed again. Her voice cracked, her throat hurt. It felt as if knives were stabbing her over and over from the inside out. But what worried her more was the fact that she couldn’t feel anything below her neck.

Pangs of fear gripped her mind sending tingles of heat rush over her face. She tried desperately to move, to reach her com badge. But then she remembered…..she had given it to Jason….. Another pang flooded her mind. She was alone. With no way of contacting anyone for help.

Paralysed and helpless, utterly helpless.

Drawing all of her strength she shouted,

“I’M NOT AFRAID….. TO LIVE!”

She pouted, for probably the first time ever, “I want to live!” her face broke into a frown, her forehead crinkled and her bottom lip wavered and rose over her top; she began to cry hard, like a frightened child.

An ear splitting scream ripped through the silent night. She could feel something, so much bigger than she. It pulled and tugged, crushed and tore through her mind. All she could feel was the pain and the fear. There was nothing else. All hope had been taken, by something so much stronger. She could feel the despair the utter worthlessness, the humility. There was no purpose left now. There was nothing to live for. She felt the joy of relinquishment and the relief it gave, to just let go. And then the sadness as everything slipped away. The world went dark and something smiled in that darkness. Its goal had been achieved and now it was happy. Happy that it had taken another life. And she felt happy. The euphoric sensation as all that power was usurped and sucked into her centre. But it wasn’t really ‘her’ centre. And the triumph was overwhelmed by the fear, the total fear and helplessness.

Another scream. A powerful gut wrenching scream.

Heavy thumps shook the floor boards. A loud creak and then blinding light flowed in to shine upon its two occupants.

Kala sat upright in her bed. Her tiny hands clutching at her bed sheets. She quivered beneath them,

“Mommy.” she whispered. Her head began to throb and as another scream tore through the room. She began to sob.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright sweetie. Everything is going to be alright.” His voice was low and comforting to the small girl. He leaned over and scooped her up into his strong arms and carried her out into the hall. All the while listening to the heart breaking screams.

“Kerenza!” he hollered.

More footsteps.

“Take Kala.” he passed the small child to his wife quickly. Worry lines etched across his face.

“Nishta! Nishta!” Kala cried over her mothers shoulder, her small hands reaching out for her other half.

Tanson pushed Kalas outstretched hands away as her mother carried her down the hall towards their room.

His gut turned as the other screamed again, shaking the house. Opening the door fully he walked in and closed it behind him. He turned on the light and sighed heavily. His eyes welled up. He wanted to cry. Slowly he turned to watch his daughter writhe in pain. He walked slowly to his child’s side. Remembering how he used to run to her, hold her down and beg her to tell him what was wrong. He used to hold her fitting form in his arms, stroke her hair till she calmed. But it never helped. Every night was the same. And he was at his wit’s end. He watched as she tore at the restraints. He stood, and watched. Helpless……

The corridor flipped in space, Dhani could feel it. As the fight continued outside she worried that she would be caught in the cross fire. But her concentration shifted, the air was thin and she could feel her body slowing. As she looked up she saw a familiar sight. It was small, but getting bigger, getting nearer. She quivered, not knowing what it was, not able to recognise the word to call this thing, this thing that came closer. Suspended in the middle of the corridor above her, it had many legs that stretched out all around her. She felt it touch her face, its many eyes watching her……

All she could determine was that she was lying on her back. She was pinned down, unable to move. But she could still feel herself moving, wiggling her fingers and toes. But that was all. A face stood out before her, and she knew this face. She had always drawn comfort from him. She tried to get up to throw her arms around him, he would protect her, but she couldn’t get up. He touched her face, whispered something but she couldn’t hear his voice. Only his thoughts; she began to shake and scream, she didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to be here, there had to be another way…..

He took her hand, as if that would control her. His hand was so much bigger, her tiny fingers wrapped around one of his, clung to his like a leach, refusing to let go.

Her eyes scanned the place she was in. All around her was light, streams of different colours. The energy whisked passed her like lightning, everything was tangled here, disjointed. She heard one thing but saw another. This was a confusing world, why didn’t the lines connect; the feeling with the words? The outer voice with the inner?

The light changed and it hurt.

There was someone new, a different voice, loud amongst the millions of others. It was harsh and the light he shone in her face hurt. She turned away, her vision flickered and she saw ‘him’ walking towards her in a white lab coat. She saw something in his hand. And then she felt him.

SCREAMS tore through the building. Everyone who had ears heard it, and all those who had ‘power of the mind’ felt it. She tried to move, tried to get away, she had to run. The calming voice tried to be heard, tried to soothe but he had no power any more. Its intentions were known.

The struggle was fierce, the fear was immense. She, a mere three year old, broke the restrains. Without touching, she threw objects across the room, raised them up from the floor with barley a bead of strained sweat.

She could feel their fear now, and something deep inside her liked it. It thrived on it and fuelled it.

She couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control it, something took over the child’s body and mind. Her protector left. The white coat came closer… and then there was nothing.

Dhani blinked. The corridor shuddered. The thing above her had moved and now sat on her chest. She recognised it now. She remembered….

Eight legs leads the way through jagged, tangled shards of glass.

Dhani watched the spider on her chest, and followed it…..

The Webwitch nodded. "It is possible that your sister has The Sight."

"I knew a witch who did have it, or something much like it. I must say, she was a difficult one to play cards with, always knew what you had in hand if she wasn't careful."

"With the Songstress, madness depended on one's definition." the Webwitch said with a soft smile in her tone, "She was just born with an extra sense. While we have sight, touch, hearing, and smell, she had one other. From her tales, she had grown up with another who had the gift so she was able to deal with it. If I could, I would try to call her, but the last I saw of her, the Inquisitors were chasing us."

"The Sight is a most rare and special gift. She will never lose it, but once she has some grounding in her mind, she can keep silent about its visions, even use them to her own advantage."

"It is alright." the Webwitch said, not letting go of Dhani.

The Webwitch smiled as Dhani drank, now the healing could begin.

The Witch's presence was there as well, acting like a lighthouse during a storm. She did her best to light the way for Dhani to find her way back to the world. While the path that Dhani had walked on was old and overgrown, it was still there, waiting for her to walk back onto it.

Dhani heard the voice of her lost friend echo through her mind. She felt her as she once had. And as if the spider knew what she felt, he nodded. She stared at him, she couldn’t remember the type of spider that this one was, Ahdjiia kept so many. Jii, was all that came to her. Though she knew that wasn’t a breed. That was his name.

The spider disappeared.

Dhani wondered if he was ever there.

The warm sun shone on her cheek and she could feel the breeze as it rippled her hair. The view was brilliant; the sand dunes dipped and soared. She turned to face him. His eyes were old and wise, his hands worn with age. She liked the way his eyebrows pointed up towards the sky; his ears reminded her of pixies from Earths fairy tales. He reached out and touched her face. She closed her eyes and relaxed. His hand was so warm, warmer than the sun, so gentle and understanding. She relinquished to him, and he to her. Their minds joining……..

It was dark by the time she returned home. She stood on the door step almost hidden by the enormous folds in her coat; Sark had given her his coat for the heat of the day was always sucked away at night. The door opened and she looked up….

“Daddy?” she whispered, tears still flowing from her bloodshot eyes,

“Please,” she begged, “help me!”

The fear creeped back to tug at her mind,

“Somebody….anybody, please save me.”

"Where's Miguel been all this time?"

starring

Ensign Miguel Antonio Sandoval

"......and so we can see in this slide the life cycle of the Breen Algae-Grub comes full circle with the laying of eggs within the bio-mass nest. The community as a whole encircles the incubating brood shielding it from the hostile environment with their own bodies......Next slide please."

CLICK

"....and.....well here you can see the bio-mass nest with the eggs here....here....and here. Next Slide."

CLICK

".....ummm this one's out of focus. Next Slide please."

CLICK

"....Ah here we go. Exactly what I was explaining. The Algae colony encircles the nest heating it via the production of ATP as a waste product of their own metabolism. The Algae cell centers....here....and here....show remarkable hydrostatic influence on the migration of the rest of the colony thus preserving the eco-cycles of both the Grub Brood, and the Algae as a symbiote system."

CLICK

"....and thats the last slide....Lights please."

(snap)

"....And that concludes my research presentation into the life cycle of Algae life on the Breen Glaciers.....any questions?"

Ensign Miguel Antonio Sandoval stood behind the fragile wooden podium and looked out across the largely empty auditorium.

A scattering of random starfleet personnel and civilian researchers dotted the chairs and considered him from behind unreadable expressions.

This presentation was the first real reasearch findings the young Botanist had been able to present since his graduation from the Academy half a year before, and while he did not flatter himself to think that the research of a mere Ensign would draw large crowds..........

..........he was hoping at least to fill in the first few rows at least.

"Any questions?" Miguel repeated, figeting nervously with his Universal Translator. He was speaking in his native spanish, but the small device was supposed to relay his words in Federation Common.

Idly he wondered if maybe the system wasnt working and nobody had understood a word.

A single arm rose from the fifth row.

"Ah yes," Miguel pointed, "Your question Senor?"

A man in the red uniform of Starfleet Command stood and considered Miguel with a quizzical expression.

"Let me get this straight Ensign." he began, "You are telling us you just spent the last six weeks dangling over the side of a Breen Glacier studying a microscopic smudge of green algae?"

Miguel frowned and wondered if the Translator had conveyed the man's words accurately. He decided to answer as if the question was legitimate.

"Ah....si....yes sir. Although the actual research time was a little less than five weeks total. We....ah......well much of the data was unfortunately lost due to....well damage to the Ship's Botanical Laboratories."

"I'll say." the man scoffed. "Geez Ensign. Half your starship gets blown away in the biggest firefight in the last two years, and all you are concerned about was lost data on a Slime?"

Miguel's face fell. The urge to explain the differences between Algaes and Slimes was not appropriate at this time. "I....well....." Miguel glanced hopelessly up at the glowing viewscreen behind him.

ANALYTICAL SURVEY OF THE BREEN GRUB ALGAE ECOLOGICAL ADAPTATIONS

A Presentation

by

Ensign Miguel Antonio Sandoval

Chief of Botanical Sciences USS GALAXY.

The glowing title page blazed in silent mockery at him.

In truth Miguel had not even been remotely involved in the heavy fighting Galaxy and Miranda participated in on the recent mission to Breen.

Early on in the process, Miguel and his small team of researchers had beamed down to the surface were they had spent the next several weeks studying his precious Algaes.

Nobody had even bothered to tell him what was going on in the skies above, so it had rather come as a shock when he found out later that his beloved Arboretum...........along with half the ship............had been utterly destroyed while he was away.

Miguel swallowed hard against that memory. Many photographs and personal mementos from home had been lost when his cabin had been opened to space.

His precious Rose-Bush that had been his Senior Botany Project at the Academy was also lost........never having been allowed to bloom.

Miguel turned back to face the incredulous audience.

"SI...." he grated with anger in his voice, "That is what I am telling you. While the powers that be in Starfleet were busy bashing each other to pieces and killing thousands........I was sitting on a freezing glacier studying a form of life that had never before been catalogued by Federation researchers."

He glared angrily at the man who had questioned him.

"I was operating alone, with no support, and minimal equipment, because it was deemed non-essential in todays warlike fleet, and I was doing the very thing that was written on the walls of Starfleet Academy."

His eyes bored into the man.

"I was seeking out new life..........While the rest of the ship was intent on destroying it."

The young Scientist held the others eyes for a few more moments before angrily snatching up his notes and stomping off the stage.

For the briefest of moments, he felt as lonely as a simple grub-algae, on the distant windswept tundra of Breen.

1844