"Track reading workshop"

by Turan Trelar -
wannabe engineer,
former boyscout,
Quentite ambassador

with an unauthorized disappearance of a whole way team.

Turan walked trough grass with actually was a mixture of fern-like plants,cereals and different kinds of simple aromatic herbes. Obviously the valley had served as a pasture not long a go.

Suddenly, there was something, the tall Quentite didn't expect to find. He knelt down, bent away the grass and had a closer look at the track.

"Seem as if our landing site is not as far away from civilization as we thought." he reported.

The other team mates came closer.

"Look what we have ..." explained Turan. After a long term of watching and learning there was something, he felt experienced in: simple old school boy scout track reading.

"These are footprints of a phytophage walking and standing on four hooves .... here ... here ... here ...and here ...". Turan pointed at several of the small hooves prints.

Turan paused for a moment.

"But that's not the most interesting track, this one", Turan continued, pointing at a much larger footprints "was made by a bipedal species. Let's see, if we can find the next footprint."

Turan got up and walked the direction, the footprint was pointing

"Here we are ... about five foot with one step ... Does anybody know, what those tracks try to tell us?" asked he .

The giant former senior boy scout looked at officers then continued his track reading workshop.

Turan follow the track down into the valley. Suddenly, he fell to his knee and waved his hand to his team mates.

"Come here!" he called the other who lost pace with him several steps ago. "That's what I expected to find ...Look at this ..." pointed at an area of flat grass. "... I assume, this was caused by by the body of one of those phytophages.

Turan picked a bundle of grass and carefully examined it. He turned back to his team mates and asked them: "Where do you think does this brown substance come?"

"Blood?" guessed Arkedi.

Turan nodded. "The phytophage was hit and laid here for a while. It was then lifted up and carried away by the hunter. You can read it from the footsteps which are much deeper leaving from here."

Suddenly, Zan stepped forward to present his Tricorder. "Excuse me, I don't want to disturb your boy scouting lesson, but I have located the source of the energy readings, we encountered." he reported.

It took some seconds until the murmur changed into silence only disturbed by distant croaking of an animal.

Zan pointed up at the steep slope: "Up there ... It must be somewhere up the slope. The readings are much clearer than the readings we got during the landing approach so it must be there."

Turan got up and looked at the steep slope - a rather demanding task even for an experienced free climber. Then Quentite giant scratched his temple. "You want to say us we have to get up there?"

"Learning To Deal...And Then Get Justice"

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell,
Engineering
Cernu & V'rlu from the Miranda

LOCATION: Vr'lu

Nara took in a deep breath feeling herself awaken. She knew where she was, and suddenly realized she wanted a bath. She slowly let her eyes open and sat up putting her hands to her head as the fog of sleep lifted and knowledge overflowed her mind. Letting it settle and spread itself over her brain so it wasn't so overwhelming. She dropped her hands letting them rest on her legs as she let her mind wander over some things she "learned." It suddenly unnerved her to have this knowledge. It was more than she wanted. She only wanted to put up a wall, which she seemed to have already up. She knew how to take it down, but had no desire to. She looked over at a cup. She looked at Cernu and using her voice, not wishing to use anything other than the wall she said, "I'm not quite sure what to do with all this."

~It is your choice to 'do'~ he told her gently ~or not to 'do', as you decide. But now you may have some skills with which to make an informed decision and to choose not to injure others with a talent your barely had control of previously~

She stood and walked to the door and leaned on the frame looking over to Cernu, "Excuse me." She needed to be alone. She couldn't be fully alone. Strange thing was, it was ok that she couldn't be away from Vr'lu. She didn't mind him at all. And it wasn't that she was angry with Cernu or anything... She couldn't figure out how she felt as she sat on her bed. She remembered doing all these things she knew she didn't really do. It was an odd feeling. She leaned against the wall that was part of Vr'lu and held her knees to herself as she spoke out loud as if to a pet, even though she knew he was much wiser than any pet. "I'm really not sure what to do with this. It scares me to have this knowledge, yet something tells me it's like destiny or something."

~Whether we know our future or not~ Cernu replied tiredly ~the actions we take and the situations we find ourselves in are a type of "destiny"~ He nodded in a human gesture ~Please go and become comfortable. You may know how to shut every bit of telepathic noise out, if you wish to feel alone, so that nothing of myself or Vr'lu bleeds over to your thoughts~

Nara spoke aloud again, "That's not the problem. There's a memory I hoped to repress again. It seems now I am just more aware of my brain and everything in it. Including that horrible thing."

~I apologize for that~ Cernu communicated muted distress ~if I had known I would have removed that for you, or distanced it from you, so that you could have peace. Though~ and he paused considering ~it is always best to face and make whatever peace one can with such a memory~

Nara wondered if they had even seen the memory. "How?" She saw his face. She felt the anger, shame, and fear. Tears formed in her eyes as she considered removing the wall and revealing that to them.

~There are various techniques Nara~ he replied softly, whispering gently in her mind ~My people use a variety of techniques but mostly we speak to others that we trust and share the pain. I have had similar experiences with other Starfleet officers who likewise have had very difficult memories."

Nara took a deep breath and using mind-speak responded, ~Then I will share with you and Vr'lu.~ Nara removed the wall but did not project, simply allowed them to see.

Cernu sighed and yellow tears began to slide down his face, tracking moisture through the soft gray down on his velvet cheeks. ~It is as I feared~ he told her ~there is so much of this thing that happens and still considered a high crime, it is somehow permitted by that same society~ Cernu turned his palms over so that they lay "up" and available should she wish the contact. ~None of that was your fault Nara~ he told her earnestly ~you did not choose for it to happen, you protested, you begged and still someone used their authority and position to overcome you and take from you. It is not right and you are not wrong to be angry~

~It would seem the worst part is that I let him get away with it.~ Nara began to wonder if she should report him. It's been awhile, and likely no one would believe her. Worse yet, he could lie and ruin her as he promised. She looked at Cernu. ~You were right. I feel somewhat unburdened. Simply need to make a choice now.~

She walked over to him and squeezed his hand before stepping back out over to a control panel to look how close they were to their destination. She felt ready to just put the whole thing aside. Not hide it, just put it away for later consideration. She sat on a step gently stroking Vr'lu's floor. ~You both have been wonderfully hospitable and helpful. I wish there were someway to repay you both.~ She felt lighter. And happy. The decision still lurked in her mind, but other than that she felt completely at ease.

Cernu cocked his head and dabbed his eyes, flicking his inner lids to clear away the moisture as he and Vr'lu conversed. She could 'feel' the discussion and knew it was about her and it was over almost instantly. "Repay us by seeking to set right what has been done do to you," Cernu spoke verbally, his musically tenor voice sounded like three people speaking at the same time, each slightly off from the other. "Pursue this crime so that no other is victimized and perhaps those that were can know and gain solace from it."

Nara let her hand rest on the floor feeling the warmth of the being as she looked down considering Cernu's words. Without moving or looking at him she spoke back. "That is not going to be easy, but I do plan on doing something about it. I'm not sure who to talk to though." She stood and looked at him, "I know it's not my fault, but I just..." She sighed and mind spoke instead finding it somewhat easier. Odd how her opinions on things were changing so much lately. ~It seems such an odd thing to bring up~ She let them feel things she couldn't form into words: embarrassment. ~What can he do about it?~ Nara looked out to the windows verbally speaking again. "Not many people in Starfleet know me well enough to trust my word over his. I'm not even sure about Sakaria." She felt very heavy considering the idea of losing everything.

"It is as difficult as you allow it to be," he replied easily. "You control how you react, how you perceive a thing relates to you. I will bear witness of the memory which," he added thoughtfully, "may carry some weight as a foreign ambassador." He shook himself and fluffed his crest, "I choose to react poorly to the knowledge of such crimes and to avenge them within the law and as such, I have chosen to be 'difficult' about it."

Nara tilted her head looking at him, "You barely know me and you act as if you will fight this to the death with me." Nara wasn't sure what she thought of this. There were few people aside from her family she would call true blue friends. Her childhood best friend was one. Being Klingon, she knew his loyalty was life or death. Conzalas, her right hand in the Sakarian fighting force would die for her she knew. And it was more than duty. She knew she was lucky to have such friends. Was Cernu now adding himself...and Vr'lu at that?

"It is how we are," he replied with a nod and a flex of his crest, "Qlrn are not a... "close" people, despite being telepathic. When we form the bond of closeness with another, it is in full measure, not merely a fragment of our attention or intent. It is a responsibility, so we do not take it lightly."

Nara smiled, "I am honored. I only hope I can repay in like if the time comes." She looked at the console again.

She looked out at the stars thinking. "It scares me, but I suppose it wouldn't be honorable to let such a man be free to live life possibly doing that over and over damaging lives." She sighed, "I'll send a message to my CO as soon as can. Tell him enough of the story to have facts and ask what course of action to take without causing an uproar and keep it secret aboard the Galaxy."

"Captain M'kantu is a fair and just man," Cernu responded with an odd tone but emanating support and strength, "I believe he will be able to help you. Also, while I am unsure of the extent of Federation medical technology's capability to do so, we Qlrn can detect biological trauma decades old. If necessary, we can attempt to support your account through forensic examination."

Nara nodded. "I appreciate any help you can provide. I have a feeling that no matter how much power this man thinks he has, we'll get him what he deserves."

"The Moment We've All Been Waiting For"

By
Ensign Lee Rowe,
Counselor,
USS Galaxy

Location: Reception Waiting Room, Starfleet Medical School

Lee sat in the waiting room. Four of the others, his fellow students, had already gone in, one had come out crying. Erica Reinhardt, the one everyone expected to get through without a problem, the one who always scored so highly on the mock exams, had failed her final year and the psych degree had gone out of the door.

There was a swish. Lee jumped and looked to the door. It was only Danny, his classmate. He looked fine, no tears, no smile, had they even told him. He walked straight over to Lee and shook his hand, a tear in his eye, without a word Lee know that his closest friend had passed. Danny couldn't say anything anyway, he looked far too choked up, he just smiled and walked out.

Suddenly the door swished again. Lee's heart started to pound, he turned his head, it felt like everything was going in slow motion. He could see coming through the door his tutor, Commander Rees. Rees looked around for what seemed like an eternity and then called a name.

~Damn!~ Lee missed the name he was so nervous.

Rees was looking straight at him, "Ensign Rowe?" He looked confused as to why Lee wasn't jumping out of his seat. Then he did.

Lee walked quickly, too quickly and followed Rees into the hallway. They seemed to walk forever and suddenly turned into a doorway. In front of him sat the Medical School's Assistant Chief of Staff, Commodore Burbeary. She looked up at him and her lips started to move slowly.

"Ensign Rowe..." she paused for what seemed an eternity.

Lee could almost visualise the next words... ~"I'm sorry but..."~

"...well done..."

That was all he needed to hear, a smile erupted on his face. He reached out to grab her hand, which she handed even extended.

"Tha...thank you....erm....Ma'am" Lee stuttered.

She smiled, and shook Lee's hand, Rees passed him a PADD, this was all too much, his first assignment as a counselor was on that PADD, he glanced down and noticed the words 'USS Galaxy'. ~A Starship!! First assignment on a Galaxy-class starship?!~

He turned and left the office, now to find Danny and celebrate.

"Hell Week, Part 1"

By
Lieutenant Commander James Corgan
Lieutenant jg Claire Barnes
Lieutenant jg Cora Dobryin
Lieutenant jg Walter Marsh
Lieutenant jg T'lan
Attache Nyssa Alvarez
And Ensign Miguel Sandoval

************** The night before... **************

"Oh... what a day." Corgan groaned as he entered the barracks.

It was dark inside, and James didn't bother to turn on the lights. He saw the sleeping forms of his Hazard Team (and a smattering of the volunteers) curled up in their bunks, enjoying their peaceful rest.

James, for one, wanted something just like that, and he crashed into his bunk, and was easily drifting off to sleep.

He had a stressful day. And tomorrow was going to be no better.

He had no idea...

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

"WAKE UP YOU F**KING MAGGOTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

A floodlight of lamps activated, as the sonic boom of a drill sergeant's voice pounded the ears of the Hazard Team. Another drill sergeant then blared, in as loud of a gust of wind as he could, a cavalry horn that made a brassy sound.

James awoke to this, and took offense to all of it. It had barely been morning, if at all. He saw no sign of the sun outside his door, only stars, added to the bright lights shining in his eyes from the sudden flood of illumination. His mind was still clouded by sleep.

"Son of a...." James groaned in his half sleep. This was not part of the plan, as far as he knew, and was as surprised as everyone else.

Claire sat up, waking quickly as she slid her legs over the side of the bed.

The drill sergeants were less than impressed by the not so prompt awakening of the Galaxy officers, and decided that a little more motivation was in order.

He hefted on his right arm a large, antiquated gun, larger than the arm itself. Strung on it was a belt of bullets. The gun was ancient, an M60 with cased ammunition (actually blanks). He aimed the gun at the sky, still one armed, and let out a burst.

"HOLY SHIT!" Corgan hit the ground, scrambling for clothes.

"MOVE MAGGOTS!" He bawled out, as a spray of shells and the rattle of the machine gun motivated the Galaxy staff to move much quicker.

Cora was on the floor and scambling for clothes as she heard the drill sergeants yelling followed by the distinctive ear shattering clatter of an M60. 'Remind me why I thought this would be a good idea to do this all again. Intel training was bad enough.' That though lasted just long enough for Dobyrin to finish her task quickly, then find her feet and come to attention still very wary weapon that had been part of their wakeup call.

Looking over from where she was sitting up, Claire grinned and stood up, glad that she decided not to sleep in the usual manner. Snapping a salute to the drill seargent as she slipped into some BDU's quick, she stood at attention.

"OUTSIDE!" The sergeant let out another burst of his machine gun. "HURRY THE F**K UP!"

And as if on a rush to get out of a burning building, the Hazard Team (and volunteers) marched out into the cold, Saskatchewan fall wind in their sweatpants and shirts. There were grumbles and gripes; the sun had yet to climb out, and the stars were still obscured by thick cloud cover. The only lights were the beacons and searchlights eminating from the towers, and all were shining in the

galaxy crewmen's eyes. The drill sergeant ordered the group to fall in at the centre of the courtyard, a cement wasteland well away from the barracks that surrounded them like a prison wall.

As soon as everyone fell into place, the drill sergeant and his assistant took their place at the front of the group, glaring at the crewmen with hate in their eyes. He was large and dark skinned, and his muscles corded like knots under his black and yellow uniform. A drill sergeant's hat sat upon his shaved head, with a shiny symbol of starfleet fixed between a cord of fine rope.

"Well... what the f**k do we have here..." Grumbled the sergeant, his belt of M60 ammunition clinking as he paced from side to side... "Sorriest sacks of sh*t I have ever seen. Lord, what in the f**k did I do to deserve this group of misfits? Did I stake your son in a past life?!?!"

Claire grinned before responding, "Sir, I'm sure we can come up with a list if you need one."

"SHUT UP!" The drill sergeant boomed, his muscled nose an inch away from the poor soul unfortunate enough to speak, blasting off like a rattling machine gun until he was almost indecipherable, "You talk when I tell you to talk! Even then, don't talk! And if you can't tell when to talk and when not

to talk when I tell whether or not you should or should not talk, you will be in a world of sh*t! Do

you understand me?!?!"

~"Play along, for christ sakes..."~ Corgan mouthed the words silently.

"SIR, YES SIR."

"Good job, Maggot! You just restored my faith in natural selection!" The drill sergeant afforded himself a predatory smile, then came back to being stony faced and very angry, "Before I put you through a week of pure, solid, unadulterated HELL... I am forced by the wafflebottoms at BUPERS to warn you that if you cannot handle this training... you are to immediately walk away and return to the rustbucket wence you came! Who here can't handle the worse possible week in your f**king lives?"

There was an appauling silence. "I thought so..." The drill sergeant paced again, "I am also warned that I am not allowed to f**king swear, harass or berate any one of you unless due cause is allowed. Are you f**king latrine lawyers going to tell me that I can't f**king swear or call you a f**king maggot right to your f**king face, then throw you into the f**king mud and make you do pushups until you f**king drown?!?! ANSWER ME!!!!!!!"

"SIR YES SIR!" Replied Corgan with total fervor.

"SIR YES SIR!" Cora answered loudly.

This time, Claire decided to can the smart-alecness as she responded, "SIR YES SIR!"

"Alright... that's what I want to hear. There may be hope for you yet... and i'm still going to f**king swear! MOVE!!!!!!!!!!!"

With another burst of the M60, the sergeant boomed "MARCH!", leading the unfortunately harried group through the dawn in a pre-morning jog.

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

"So far, so good."

McMasters watched, from comfortable seating in his personal office, the spectacle unfold.

Drill sergeant Mattleau was doing a great job breaking in the new recruits, fresh from revelry of a 24 hour leave, waking them early and in horrid condition to start a week of hell. But then again, that was the point of his job. Put recruits through hell. If they live and pass, they have bragging rights and the qualifications for special forces certification.

McMasters loved his job, his office, and the cup of coffee keeping him awake. He had real control...

But his attention was on one of the recruits. Lieutenant Corgan confused the administrator of the training camp. This was not the James he remembered, and it perplexed him.

In the background, watching the screen, was another man who came to visit, to check out the latest batch, but to also check out the Lieutenant Commander. His focus was businesslike and silent, but McMaster's was almost obsessive.

"I have to know." Said the shadowy figure, "Why are you so interested in this man?"

McMaster's retorted, ruffling his widow's peak, "Shouldn't you tell me first?"

The shadowy figure shook his head, "No, I shouldn't. I outrank you. Therefore it is my perogative to ask. Do tell, why are you so concerned about this man?"

"I told you before," McMasters glowered in an act of extreme irritation, "He was in my old unit."

"So... what separates him from say... Ensign McNeil... or Lieutenant K'meneri?"

McMasters took on a long, whistful, distant look as his head tilted towards the ceiling. "He is... different. Not a good kind of different. From what I heard, he was a problem student out of the academy. Gifted, red squad material. Had some attitude, but normal for a kid at that age. The academy was supposed to straighten him out. When he came to our unit during the war... we don't know what the hell happened, but he was sullen, withdrawn. He never gave me any respect, barely listened to me, hell... didn't give anybody the respect they deserved. He had his head shoved up his ass so far he could never see sunlight. And the battles... he survived them all when he should have died... barely phased him while everyone else was scared witless. He didn't change during the war, was still that silent, stupid wannabe badass. Going to the last chancers was supposed to kill him or straighten him out. When it didn't..."

"You failed to fix him?" The shadowy man questioned.

"That's right. I failed to fix him. What really gets me is that he has been promoted to chief of security on a major vessel, has a Hazard Team under his control. He can put on the act of a responsible bastard, but knowing him, including that LITTLE STUNT..." McMaster's voice quivered out of seething rage, "...with the Romulan bitch... I know he's putting on some sort of act. I want to fix him for sure, or get him out of Starfleet, because I don't want screwed up mental cases LIKE HIM in my Starfleet! That's a fact!"

The shadowy man listened considerately in his corner. It was more than he could stand, and he decided to speak. "You want to know why I give a damn... about our subject?"

McMasters sniffed, "Don't promote him over me because if you do..."

"LISTEN TO ME YOU MUNDANE BEAUROCRAT!" The wrath of the shadowy figure loomed over McMasters like wraith. It showed the true size of McMasters, insignificant compared to the man who stepped out of the shadows. He was a gaunt skeleton of a man, every part of him that was not skin was black. He was like an old knotted oak, strong and resiliant, deceptive when put into a spindly frame without leaves. His voice grated in his full anger, and he ranted with the fervor of a street preacher. "The only reason you are here is because you are useful in this position. Without me, you would be nothing but a lower rank waste reclaimator officer, and you would stay there until you either killed yourself or accepted early retirement!"

He continued, calming down, talking like the grim reaper, "Even now... you are nothing. Just a stupid, corruptible man that I use to monitor upcoming potentials. You're a small man, with a small role, who thinks it is everything and anything to get what he wants. Well, compared to what I do, which is something akin to being a vital if covert piece of the great Starfleet machine... you are less than a nub in a cog in that entire setup, who has a wife as ugly on the outside as she is within... and two kids who walk all over you... whom I had to bail out of juvenile detention to gain your services. Your attentions to this one man is unnerving, and it only goes to show how petty your life has become. It is a wonder that I keep you at all."

Despite McMaster's now hostile attitude, the skeletal man continued, "This man gathers my attention because unlike you, he has the potential of becoming important. I'm watching him, an ally... or even a threat... because unlike you... he means something. Mr. McMasters... do you think you're destined for greatness?"

The sudden attention from the skeletal man made McMasters wince. "I thought so."

"Delusions." The skeletal man mused, "But this man... he has seen greatness. I can specifically name three people whom my... patrons know that he had encountered. Three people who were integral in my plans. Tactical geniuses, future leaders... did you know how close he came to these people? I know this man, and since I'm a much better judge of character than you, I can tell that once he brushed up to these oh so important people... he would have a taste and want to strive to become something more than himself... something more in the same league as them. Do you know these people?"

"No.." McMasters said, uncertain, "I... don't."

"Even if it did, you would not know what to do. On occasion, one of these important cogs comes out of line, and we need someone to fix the problem. We have a missing piece... and this man... if we need to, might inadvertantly become a bigger part of our plans."

He patted McMasters on the shoulder. From the folds of his black jacket, he pulled out a stick of chewing gum. "Make sure you don't foul up this man. We spent considerable resources keeping the JAGS off him for the time being for that Romulan assassin incident. It would be a waste to see him out of Starfleet at such a crucial time of his career. If we lose him, we may lose other pieces in our plan, including the recovery of my patron's greatest asset. Surely you can appreciate that. Oh... and tell the wife that I enjoyed last night's dinner."

The skeletal man left McMaster's office. Immediately, the administrator shoved his office chair away in a huff, and slapped his badge. "McMasters to Drill Sergeant Mattleau."

=/\="Mattleau here!"=/\= The Drill Sergeant responded.

"Status report, Mr. Mattleau."

=/\="Everything's fine, sir. We're putting them through morning exercises. We'll do the firing range, then get started on our march."=/\=

"Good." McMaster's nodded, approving that at least one part of HIS machine was working smoothly, "Put them through today... if they quit, send them packing. But I want the whole lot of them bounced. Can you do that?"

=/\="I can and will, sir."=/\=

"Good man. If the whole lot doesn't break today, put them through the night without sleep. Do whatever you want with them. By morning, if they still are up and going through hell week, pick out the most insubordinate one, and single them out for some especially brutal treatment. If anyone goes out of line, you can drop them all then."

=/\="Sir! Understood, sir!"=/\=

"Good. Over and out."

McMasters shut off his communicator pin, sporting a newly refreshed smile on his face. The skeletal man, an annoyance at best, always spoke high and mighty. But this was his territory.

He removed a flask from his desk, unscrewed the top, and added a small amount of liquid to his coffee.

He was the master here. And he would see Corgan break, skeletal man be damned.

OOC – Backpost, to before we all went on these little mini-missions. Also, I suppose its something to show that I’m still interested in being a member of the Galaxy, which I’ve discovered is difficult when writing as a Civilian. I don’t know whether an division of Starfleet Intelligence called Communication Security Breach Department exists or not, but it made sense that there would be a unit devoted to making sure that Civilians on Starfleet Ships and Installations that carried those such as Tyrone would be subject to some special measures concerning Classified Material, the ‘Havras Incident’ as an example.

“Freedom of the Press?”

Tyrone Miller,
USS Galaxy Correspondent – Federation News Service

Commander James Baxter,
Senior Administrator
Communication Security Breach Division – Starfleet Intelligence

It had been nearly three weeks since Tyrone had sent his story on the Havras System to his editor at the FNS. And in that time, not one reference to it turned up anywhere on any broadcasts, civilian or otherwise. That concerned him, because he felt his article was the best thing he had ever written, even beating all those stories he’d written in English Class at School. He’d been a patient man; he’d let his editors seek him out. But it had been almost three weeks…

He decided to send a message to the man at the top, a man who would at least talk to him. The man who’d pulled some strings and allowed him to go aboard the Galaxy to write the story in the first place. He sat at the comm. terminal that was at his disposal, and opened the channel to the FNS Offices in New York, on Earth.

Before the return signal could be activated, however, the comm. line disconnected. He was about to put in a maintenance request, when the comm. reactivated. Instead of simply displaying the logo of the FNS, or even his Senior Editors face, it showed the symbol of Starfleet Intelligence.

<“This is the Starfleet Intelligence Communication Security Breach Department. Your communication has been hijacked under Starfleet Security Regulation 79 subsection a, paragraph four.”> Came an automated response.

“What the hell does that mean.” He thought aloud.

<“Please restate request.”>

“Computer, patch me through to a ranking officer. I would like to discuss this with someone.”

<“Working”> the computer replied, before the call was routed to an office; the office of one Commander James Baxter. <“I’m Commander Baxter, Senior Administrator here at the CSBD.”>

“My names Tyrone Miller, I’m trying to get through to my Editor at the FNS Offices, and I’ve been redirected to this office. I’d like to know why?”

<“Mr. Miller,”> the Commander paused as trying to place the name to something. Then, as if he remembered, he picked up a PADD. On the PADD, was Tyrone’s Story. <“Ah yes, Tyrone Miller. Former Starfleet Lieutenant, Starfleet Service number C9-8655741-delta. Now aboard USS Galaxy as Federation News Service Correspondent.”>

How the hell could this Baxter guy have this information on him to hand like that? Unless, “Am I being investigated by Starfleet Intelligence for something?”

<“Of course not, your just a journalist. With a Starfleet background, which means that you should understand that in relation to this,”> he held up the PADD <“nice work by the way, ”> he commented <“certain things have to be withheld in order to protect Federation and Starfleet Security”>

“You’re withholding my story.”

<“We’re not withholding anything Mr Miller, we’re classifying it. I’m not sure whether you are aware of this or not, but Starfleet and the Federation Council have deemed that information pertaining to the joint operation between USS Galaxy and USS Miranda into Breen space should be Classified for an undetermined period of time for the aftermath of this security threat is long since dealt with.”> The Commander clearly had his orders, and he knew that there was no reason not to follow them to the letter.

But Miller didn’t know that, “Commander, what about Freedom of the Press? What about the right for the citizens of the Federation to know about what happened in Havras System?”

<“Freedom of the Press, Mr Miller, is something that is given by Starfleet Command on the understanding that when there are potential security risks, Starfleet Intelligence can edit articles, and can even prevent them from being published.”> Although the Commander knew where he had to stand, he did understand where the reporter was coming from. <“When we intercepted this article of yours, we did it on the understanding that if it were to become public knowledge, it could cause chaos throughout the Federation.”>

The Commander straightened his uniform jacket, and straightened up in the chair. He was clearly building to something, something that would eventually mean that Tyrone wouldn’t like it. <“If chaos ensued then the Federation would be even more affected by lasts years Terrorist attacks than it would care to let on to anyone. And your article could cause all that.”> Baxter paused, before taking a breath <“Do you want that hanging over Mr Miller?”>

‘Of course not, Tyrone thought, ‘who would?’

<“I didn’t think so. As a former Starfleet Officer, I have to invoke Starfleet Security Regulation 79 subsection g, paragraph two. You are subjected to the same constraints as any other Starfleet Officer, and are still bound to be called up before a Civilian Equivalent of a General Court Marshall. The details pertaining to your involvement in the Miranda and Galaxy’s Mission to Breen Space are never to be discussed with anyone, and they are never to be seen in print. Do you un! derstand, Lieutenant?”>

Tyrone listened as Baxter put a fine point on the word Lieutenant, reminding him of Subsection H of that Security Regulation. He could be forcibly recalled, then Starfleet had the Legal rights to force such silence upon him. And right now, the Uniform was not for him. “I understand. I can’t discuss this with anyone.”

<“That’s correct,”> Baxter said nodding. <“But let me do something for you. Starfleet are sending a small science team to investigate a planet that’s recently been discovered, I’m sure you could put together a story based on that.”>

“But there’s one problem, I’m the Galaxy’s correspondent. I’m not free-lance.”

<“Fortunate for you then that this team is being sent out from the Galaxy, to be operated whilst the ship is repaired and refitted following its return to Federation Space.”> Baxter decided the conversation was over, <“now I suggest, that you do something to get yourself on that team. Good Day, Mr Miller.”> He pressed a button on the comm. panel and once again, Miller found himself staring at an empty screen.

‘Freedom of the Press? Pah’, thought Miller, ‘This is censorship’

"Devil In The Details" Part 4

(Takes place fifteen minutes after the end of Part 3)

Principal Characters

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Imperial Attendant K'vala Mahask

Secondary Characters

Phnel, Denobulan Weapons Collector
and Merchant Dhlur,
Phnel's First Wife Dhbin,
Phnel's Second Wife Tlnad,
Dhlur's Oldest brother Klnal,
Dhlur's Middle Brother Vlnadr,
Dhlur's Younger Brother

****

Denobula
Phnel Mansion
Ballroom

"I divorce you. I divorce you. I divorce you. I divorce you."

And just like that, it was done.

Victor wasn't certain where this particular tradition got started on Denobula. He'd read about something similar to it in Terran history, and seen similar casual ceremonies on other planets, but the Denobulan twist on it made it unique: once the words were said by either spouse in the presence of the departing spouse's family, the speaker - or a designated representative - had to remain alive for fifteen minutes in the face of any objections raised by the divorced spouse's family.

At the end of that time, if the speaker was still alive, the divorce was final, and no property or assets were transferred to the divorced spouse. If the speaker died, on the other hand, their assets were divided evenly between all surviving spouses. Denobulans didn't believe in jointly-owned assets. A spouse might let you use something that was theirs, but literally, legally, you owned what you owned.

From the look on her face, Victor didn't think that Dhlur owned anything. Not any more.

Dhlur's drink dropped from nerveless fingers and she stared, mouth open, as the party-goers in the large room froze, even the green Orion dancer halting in mid gyration as they all became suddenly aware that they were watching something real, and not part of the evening's entertainment. The glass hit the floor and shattered, spilling a foamy orange concoction out onto the floor and her shoes, the slosh of the liquid audible in the sudden silence.

Phnel stood there for a moment longer in the silence, and then stepped back as Victor stepped forward. "I stand for my friend, Phnel," he said quietly. "I have known him for ten years, twice the time required by law. His time begins now." At the last word, a shaky-handed Dhbin depressed a switch on the wall-mounted com unit and a numerical display appeared, the numbers counting down.

Victor turned towards Dhlur. "Your family's time begins now," he said tonelessly. "Be smart and do nothing. I have no desire to hurt them."

The Denobulan woman blinked once, shivered, and then screamed a single wordless cry of rage and thrust out a hand like it was a spear towards Victor. From out of the crowd, three men that shared a family resemblance with her - obviously the brothers Phnel had warned Victor about - started to move forward, faces grim.

It had been, Victor supposed, too much to hope for that Dhlur would be reasonable. He shifted position slightly and eyed the men as they approached. It had also, apparently, been too much to hope for that her brothers might individually be smaller than a Terran water buffalo. One of them even looked to mass as much as Lieutenant Commander Darkstar or Major Log, the former Galaxy Security Second and his Fleet Marine brother, the biggest human beings Victor had ever associated with. Victor hoped they were, at the least, slower than either of those men had been.

The center of the room cleared out as the first of the three men drew near, the other two having stopped to speak to their sister. The hulking Denobulan frowned as he reached a point where he reacted to Victor's presence, shook his head, and started forward again, his approach slower.

"I don't have any desire to hurt you," Victor repeated one last time. He didn't expect it to work, but he really did have no desire to hurt these men. They were simply in the way of something he needed. "You can just walk away."

"Vlnadr crush!" the hulking Denobulan said as he cocked back a hand in the single most obviously telegraphed punch Victor had ever seen.

Victor stepped back out of the way and shook his head as the Denobulan's punch missed. "Third person?" he asked. "You actually spoke about yourself in third person?"

The Denobulan frowned. "Big words! Vlnadr hate big words!" He cranked back for another blow. "Vlnadr crush scary man! Vlnadr not like being scared, make Vlnadr mad!"

Victor sidestepped that swing as well. "Well, we certainly don't want that, do we?" He shook his head and took advantage of Vlnadr's positioning to kick him solidly in the knee the bigger man had his weight on. The joint buckled, gave with a snap and a tearing sound that was audible across the silent room, and dropped Vlnadr to the floor, his voice choked off with pain.

As the now-crippled Vlnadr sucked in a breath to scream, Victor dispassionately kicked him once in the head, the blow silencing the incipient scream. "You should have listened to me," he said tonelessly to the unconscious man. He glanced up in the direction of the remaining brothers, both staring in shock at their sibling's casual destruction. "Are you two any smarter?"

The two looked at each other and started forward as one, while their sister started to scream threats and orders behind them.

Thanks to Dhlur's verbal barrage, before the remaining brothers had traveled three meters, Victor knew that their names were Tlnad - the biggest and oldest one - and Klnal - the middle-sized and aged one - with Vlnadr at his feet being the smallest and youngest, and that they were going to kill him slowly for what he had done to their younger brother. Another meter, and he knew that Dhlur was going to eat his brains for breakfast, and a meter after that he knew that he wasn't going to have as easy a time with this fight when Tlnad and his remaining brother separated to come at him from different sides.

"Well, at least you're smarter than he was," Victor observed as he circled to keep the convenient mass of Vlnadr between him and Klnal. "Together you might have enough brain cells firing to turn on a light switch."

Tlnad threw a punch that missed, then a second that also went wide as Victor stepped in and hit him once in the gut, which had little effect, and then again in what would have been the kidney on a human as he passed behind the bigger man. The large man threw a backhand in retaliation that brushed Victor's shoulder and sent him skipping to retain his balance, but failed to do any real damage

"Were your parents related?" Victor asked as he dodged under another sweeping swing from Tlnad, foam and spittle from the big Denobulan's mouth dotting Victor's jacket. "Brother and sister, perhaps?"

Absurdly, at that moment, he recalled Grey's question from months before, when he'd shown her the fights that he'd promised. She'd wanted to know why he didn't act like this all the time, why he was... funny... all the time. He'd given her an answer then, but now, as he drove a booted foot into the huge Denobulan's groin, he knew what he should have told her then to make her understand: that he was only like this when he was doing what he'd been born to do, only like this when he was being the person that terrified people around him without the need for Victor to speak so much as a single word. And the reason hat he wasn't that person often was because that person wasn't the one that he wanted to be when Grey was present.

Tlnad made a high-pitched sound and doubled over as the blow registered in his brain, giving Victor an unrestricted view of the rest of the ballroom floor as the Denobulan dropped to his knees. A view that was somehow... wrong.

The instant that it took to realize what it was that was wrong was all that it took for Klnal's foot to crash into the side of Victor's head and send him flying across the room.

Victor hit the floor heavily, slid a meter, and slammed into the wall. As he lay there, the pain in his head threatening to wash over and drown him, he felt the vibration transmitted through the floor from Klnal's approaching footsteps, and realized, dimly, that if he didn't move he was dead, that he would have failed to accomplish what he'd promised Phnel and Dhbin he'd do, failed to carry out the assignment he was on with the Attendant, failed at everything. He would have even failed to tell Grey... something. He wasn't sure what, but in a moment of clarity, he realized that he did want to tell her something, and he would never be able to discover what it was, much less actually tell her, if he died here on this floor.

The pounding footsteps suddenly stopped. Victor rolled to the side and kicked off from the wall, sliding on his back, as Klnal soared overhead to crash feet-first down on the spot where Victor had lain a moment before.

Scrambling back, his head still thick with pain, Victor bumped into a table and caught at it to lever himself to his feet. He only needed a few more seconds to clear his head, to push the pain aside, and then...

Klnal's first blow caught him in the ribs, as did his second. The third was off, striking Victor in the shoulder and spinning him around to take the next two in the back. The Denobulan stopped hitting him at that point and grabbed the back of Victor's head instead. With a sting of what Victor dimly assumed were curses in Denobulan, Klnal crashed it into the table once, twice, before finally smashing Victor face-first into a red geloid salad and pressing down, holding Victor there as he snatched up a serving knife, raised it, and stabbed down.

Victor's back arched as the knife slammed home, and his hands tore at the tablecloth. He struggled briefly against the tide of red that rose up inside him, and then surrendered to the inevitable. He shuddered once, his whole body going rigid for an instant before it went limp under the big Denobulan's hands and was still.

"Shuttleride to Starbase 212"

Joint post by:-

Ensign William Warbeck
Tactical Officer
USS Galaxy

and

Ensign Lee Rowe
Counselor
USS Galaxy

****

Location: Tiberius - Type 11 Shuttle, enroute to SB212.

****

He hated this. He hated shuttles. He wished they would bring back a memory, some stabbing pain or something. All it gave him was a cold sweat, as well as a feeling of panic. He usually got drunk. Or so he had whenever he had travelled on Earth. But this was a Starfleet shuttle, and he was unable to do such a thing. So he sat there, sober and awake, strapped tightly in his chair and just waiting.

Waiting for the bloody thing to crash, more like it.

He knew it was a silly fear. It was a silly, stupid and awkward fear. And he hated it. And when he started hating it, he started to take himself and...he took a sharp breath, opening his eyes. Self-pity never got him anywhere. He reached for his music, fumbling a bit with the ear plugs with a frown. He was sweating. He was shaking slightly. He was also frowning. None of these were things he usually did. He sighed, shaking his head as he discovered that there were no more power to play his music on. So he bent down to his bag, pulling out a small poetry book. Lord Byron. If he couldn't help him, nothing could. He rubbed his face, the beard feeling sweaty. Or stubble, since he had shaven it when he had been in Manchester. Bleeding hell, he hated this.

At the rear of the shuttle, sat a calm, quiet guy. Lee was watching the other passengers as though he was still in his Med School Psych classes, trying to decide what people were thinking. Everyone aboard was heading for Starbase 212, the journey from the Intrepid which had dropped them off in the sector, was almost 6 hours, and in a Type 11 that was cramped for four people.

Lee could see a young Ensign, around his age, with a red collar - so either Conn or Tactical - sat with sweat pouring off him, he had heard of some extreme cases of transporter-phobia, but not really of shuttles. He waited and watched, not sure if he should introduce himself at the moment.

Will flipped the book open, reading a bit before closing it sharply, his hand going to his collar. He tugged at it, grimacing as it felt too tight. He glanced around again, taking a few deep breath, or tried to. They became small, panicky gasps. He forced himself to calm a little, humming weakly to himself. He had managed it before. He'd manage it again.

Lee sat with his head resting on his hand, it was almost a 'thinking position'. He watched as the other man closed his book shut with a slam. He could see that he was getting very anxious. Lee's natural instinct, from his medical and counselling background, kicked in and he unclipped his seatbelt and slid down in the seat beside the other man.

"Hey," Lee tried to sound as though he hadn't noticed the panicking expression, and then decided otherwise. "Are you ok?"

Will glanced at the other man, frowning before taking a breath. "Yeah...I'm alright," he said, holding the book tightly. Blue collar. Medical, science or counselling. Make that Medical or Counselling, because Will had never met a scientist who spoke to him. "Not too fond of flying though."

"Yeah, I guessed, it's not the best way to travel," Lee replied. "Though I know the guy flying and he's more than capable."

Lee smiled, "and they tell me that the type 11 is the safest thing with a warp core."

Will chuckled, shaking his head. "Whoever told you that is a liar," he said, shrugging weakly. "Or at least a fibber...perhaps a small fib. I don't mind small fibs..." he sat back, frowning. "It's the tight space that bothers me. The lack of room."

Lee nodded, "I hope they've got you big quarters... where are you headed by the way?"

"Well...I have orders to report to the USS Galaxy. It's docked at Starbase 212," Will said quietly, glancing at the man again before giving a gentle smile. "I'm sorry. I am awful company."

Lee smiled back, "it's okay, don't worry, I have an idea how you're feeling." Lee paused. "I'm off to the Galaxy too, my name's Lee... Lee Rowe, yours?"

Will offered his hand to him, giving a small smile. "William Warbeck. Most call me Will though...it's nice to meet you, Mr Rowe."

Lee took his hand and gave it a gentle shake, he could feel Will was shivering slightly.

"If you don't mind me asking, where are you from? I recognise the accent..." it sounded slightly Liverpudlian, but not so broad, perhaps a mix of a few.

"I'm born in Manchester," Will said, taking a breath as he relaxed a little, watching him with a small smile. "But my family moved to Newcastle when I was quite...young. And my mother is Dutch so..." he shrugged, chuckling. "I guess my accent is toned down a lot."

"Yeh, I would have guessed that area, my family are from North England," Lee replied, he put his hand on Will's shoulder. "See you're smiling at me now, I told you it helps."

"You're distracting me," Will whispered, chuckling as he looked down, a blush rising to his face and reddening his ears more than anything else. "It helps."

"Aww," Lee made a sympathetic sound, although he was showing some sarcasm. "So tell me about yourself...what do you like doing in your spare time and such?"

Will looked at him, smiling weakly before glancing around, frowning. "Me? A bit of this and a bit of that," he said, chuckling weakly. It was clear that he was uncomfortable here, but the panic had eased somewhat into something he could control easier. "I go to the holodeck, I play the guitar...I read."

"What sort of music do you play? and what do you do on the holodeck?" Lee asked, it seemed there was a chance they had something in common.

Will bit his lip thoughtfully. "I guess...usually rock. I write a few lyrics, but it is usually just for my eyes and ears. And play an interactive game on the holodeck. Silent Hill."

"Really? I'm a bit of a rock fan myself, though I tend to have somewhat of an eclectic taste when it comes to music," Lee replied. "I've not heard of Silent Hill though, what's that about?"

"Silent Hill is...about Silent Hill. It's this place in America that is cursed, and there was this devil-worshipping cult there and..." he stopped himself, smiling weakly to Lee. "It's Japanese horror. That's all."

"You'll have to show me sometime, I have a thing for getting away from all our current technologies and running programs about the 20th century... I know they still had plenty of technology, but you actually piloted stuff like cars, rather than letting the computer do it...." his voice trailed off as he realised he was rambling. "So are you Flight Control? Tactical?"

"Tactical," Will said, nodding weakly as he chuckled. "Do you think they'd let me close to the controls of a ship?"

Lee laughed, Will's sense of humour was starting to show through, about time.

"What about you?" Will asked with a small smile, watching him. "Are you a doctor, or a shrink?"

"I doubt you'd be surprised if I said a shrink," Lee replied with a smile.

"You're right," Will chuckled weakly, holding his book close as he watched him. "I've known enough counsellors to be able to spot them."

Lee looked at him and waited, "...and then you're supposed to say, 'but you're the best so far...' "

Will chuckled, arching a brow at him. "Hm...I need some evidence before saying something like that, pretty-boy," he said teasingly.

"Well how about an appointment when we get to Galaxy then?" Lee said, with a somewhat cheeky grin on his face.

"I'd rather go and get a drink," Will admitted, chuckling as he arched a brow at him.

"Well they always tell us...'wherever the patient is comfortable'," the cheeky grin didn't fade. "So not in shuttlecraft in any instance."

"Or any small spaces," Will admitted, chuckling weakly. "I...can we keep this...private? It's not something I like to broadcast." He met his eyes, searching them as he leant a little closer. "Please?"

"Sure!" Lee replied, he looked into Will's eyes, they seemed to sparkle slightly, something he'd never noticed in a guy before. "It's between friends..."

"I like that," Will said, nodding as he gave him a small smile as he watched him. A friend was always something he could need. He just hoped that Lee wouldn't lock him in a small room for the fun of it.

Lee smiled and slid his hand over onto Will's far shoulder and gave him a brief hug. "Is your family still in Manchester then?" he asked.

"Yes," Will nodded as the smile faded a little, as did the shine in his eyes. "We moved back there when I was about...15. Almost 16."

"I take it that's your parents?" Lee paused. "Any family of your own?"

He felt he was prying, but felt interested in Will, he couldn't decide whether it was professional or as a friend, or something else.

"What? Me married or attached or something?" Will chuckled at the idea, shaking his head. "Bloody hell, no. I'm just 26..."

Lee smiled, "yeh same here, but 25...I just wondered."

Will nodded, smiling gently to him. He felt like he owed Lee...he had listened to him and was keeping him company...two things he hadn't needed to do. "So why did you become a counselor? I know it is a pretty typical question but..." he let it hang, studying him for a moment with a small smile. He was cute, or reasonably cute. Not that Will was one to talk about what was 'reasonably'. He was cuter than Will was anyway.

"It's a long story..." Lee replied, he glanced down as he remembered his past. "Starfleet Counselor's helped me the day I applied to the Academy, I wanted to be a doctor, but changed track because of what they did for me and my dad..."

His voice trailed off as he thought about it.

Will watched him, frowning slightly. "Sorry," he said, reaching out to take his hand. He held it for a moment. "I always ask the bloody wrong questions."

Lee looked up as he felt Will take his hand and smiled. "No, it's fine, it's something I don't tend to talk about..." Lee paused again, slightly nervous about talking about his close feelings, Will must have felt just like this only minutes before. "...the day I applied to the academy my mum died in an accident at work...."

"Oh god..." Will moved closer, guilt welling up in him. Yes, he was fucking brilliant with questions...just...and Lee was so sweet. "I'm so sorry..." he wrapped his arms around him.

Lee felt his eyes starting to water. Will's arms and hold was warm, which reminded him even more of his mother's hugs. He looked up into Will's eyes and again saw the sparkle. "It's ok..."

Lee wiped the tear from his cheek and smiled again, shaking off the memory. "I guess I don't have to tell you to keep that to yourself..."

"You don't...like you said, we're friends." Will smiled weakly, his hand going to Lee's face. He gently wiped the tears away, watching him.

Lee felt drawn to him, their was something about this person, that Lee had never felt before. He was so kind and caring, maybe it was just the subject that he'd unintentionally brought up.

"Anyway I thought I was the counselor here," he grinned again.

"Yeah, but I am older than you," Will said, chuckled as he shook his head. He looked down at his book before over to the window. "How many hours until we get there?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

"About four I think," Lee replied, he looked around too, looking for a chronometer. "Somewhere around four."

Will frowned, pulling a leg up slightly, shifting so that his foot could rest on the edge of his seat. It gave him a rather comic appearance, as if he was a 14 year old boy bored in class. "Too long."

"Yeah," Lee agreed. "I don't know why the Intrepid couldn't drop us off nearer."

He watched Will as he looked around, he had not seen a male as being attractive before, perhaps that was it, Will was definately good looking, but was it attraction.

"Don't know about the Intrepid...but the Hidalgo dropped me off at Earth two weeks ago," Will said with a weak smile. "Guess someone had to be fed up with me."

"I can't see why," Lee replied with a smile. "Looking forward to the Galaxy?"

"Hm...yes, actually..." Will chuckled weakly, rubbing his clammy hands on his trousers. "I am. It'll be nice."

"Is it your first posting or did you serve on the...erm..." he struggled to remember the name of the ship Will had just mentioned, he had been too busy watching him. "..Hidalgo?"

"I've served on the Hidalgo...and on the Troy before that," Will said as he looked at him, before chuckling. "I used to be a Lieutenant Junior Grade, but I got demoted."

Lee raised an eyebrow in an almost Vulcan-like manner, "do you want to tell me about that, or is that for later?"

"I hit a security officer. Actually, I hit, kicked him and bit him but..." Will chuckled rather nervously, shaking his head. It was clear that this was something he did not wish to talk about.

"I'll let you tell me some other time if you want..." Lee said, he was slightly confused, he wouldn't associate the friendly sweet guy in front of him with that sort of incident, unless he was provoked.

"Maybe," Will said with a chuckle. "Is this your first posting?"

"Other than three years at Med School, yeah," Lee replied. "I'm looking forward to it."

"It'll be nice," Will said, nodding weakly as he thought. Actually, it might end up being hell, but he didn't want to put Lee off. Poor lad needed all the encouragement he could get if he was on his first posting.

"I hope so, I can see counselling more than a thousand people a bit of a headache though..."

"You won't do it alone, silly," Will said with a small smile, watching him fondly. He reached out, his hand taking a hold of Lee's knee. "Because then you'd end up crazy...and that's for us to be, not you counselors."

"True," Lee replied, smiling again. "Who says you're crazy anyway?"

"I do," Will said, winking. "I guess I'll find out sooner or later," Lee said. "Though you don't seem too crazy to me, and *I am* the professional here." "The law is inside out, the world is upside down..." Will said dramatically, chuckling weakly as he smiled.

"And you could also stick a pencil up each nostril and shout wibble and I wouldn't fall for it," Lee said calmly. "Though I often wondered if you needed to be crazy to work on a starship."

"You forgot the underpants on my head..." Will said playfully, winking. "Wibble...wibble..." he tilted his head back, closing his eyes. "And if General Melchett didn't fall for it, neither would you..." he opened his eyes to look at Lee. "It's rare to see someone who knows about the Black Adder...few who watch 21st Century television programs. And you need to be crazy to sign your life away like that..."

"Yeh, I like 20th and 21st century, music, entertainment in general," Lee replied. "Hence the holodeck programs."

"I am the same...though I am weak for horror. Asian horror, actually. Not American. The yanks can't scare a Tribble, if you ask me. No...Korean or Japanese. Silent Hill is Japanese. Bloody frightening, I'll tell you," he chuckled as he watched Lee.

"I've not seen much of the old horror stuff," Lee paused. "Like I say, you'll have to show me sometime."

He could see Will was watching him, but as hard as he tried he couldn't tell what he was thinking, at times he wished he had a Betazoid half.

"I think I will...you'll be scared though," Will chuckled, closing his eyes again and stifling a yawn, pulling his book closer to his chest.

"I look forward to it," Lee said, as much as he hated being scared he was looking forward to spending time with Will. "I think you need some sleep."

"I think so too..." Will admitted, looking at him. "I...thanks."

Lee smiled back. "You're welcome, and thanks too...do these seats recline?" he said as he fumbled about with the side of the seat.

"No, they don't," Will said, chuckling as he sat up straight. "You tired too?"

"Yeah, talking you into smiling has taken it out of me," he said with a slight laugh.

Will nodded, chuckling weakly. "Look...if you turn onto your side, pull your legs up and put your head in my lap, you'll sleep comfortably...all things considered anyway," he said, smiling gently. "I sleep just as well sitting. Picked that up at Mass."

"I never had the chance to practice sleeping sitting up, though I'm sure you're quite comfortable," Lee said. He did as Will suggested, his head resting on Will's stomach, he could stretch his legs out onto the seat to his other side, and it was surprisingly comfortable.

"Hey you're right, this isn't too bad," he said looking up at Will's chin.

Will looked down, chuckling as he patted Lee's hair. "Sweet dreams," he said, closing his own eyes as he tipped his head back.

Lee watched as Will closed his eyes, he still couldn't figure out what it was that he liked about Will, but there was something, something different. He closed his eyes, and drifted off.

"Welcome to the Galaxy"

JP by:

Ensign Lee Rowe
Counselor
USS Galaxy

and

Ensign William Warbeck
Tactical Officer
USS Galaxy

*****

Location: Shuttle Tiberius, approaching SB212

*****

Lee winced as he opened his eyes, the shuttle was brightly lit. As he stretched and the world came into focus he realised he still had his head in Will's lap. Will however was still asleep. Lee sat up and looked round, trying to establish what time it was, as he did so he heard the co-pilot acknowledging a communication from starbase control, and directly ahead he saw the looming mass of Starbase 212.

Will frowned in his sleep, shivering slightly. "No..." he murmured, trying to turn over but he was strapped in.

Lee looked over at Will as he mumbled, he wasn't sure whether he was awake or asleep. "Will?" he said quietly, trying not to disturb him if he was still asleep.

Will took a breath, opening his eyes from the nightmare, grimacing as his head went against the wall. "Bleedin'...verdomme..." he rubbed his head, chuckling.

"Verdomme?" Lee asked, confused.

"Dutch version of damnit," Will chuckled weakly, shaking his head.

Lee smiled, "I can't swear in Vulcan, I don't think they have swear words..." "We're about to dock mister," Lee informed him.

"That's great!" Will grinned, sudden relief washing through him.

Lee could see the relief, it was obvious Will couldn't wait to be off the small craft.

"Five minutes to landing people," the pilot called out.

"Brilliant...fucking brilliant," Will said, smiling warmly as he straightened. His breathing came fast, but it was out of relief more than anything else. Relief and excitement. "I can't wait..." he watched attentive as the shuttle approached, his hands busying themselves with gathering his book and music and pulling his bag close.

Lee smiled at him, he looked like an excited school child, "calm down, it's only a starbase."

The shuttle entered the approach phase and within moments the shuttlebay came into view.

"No, it's a big, open, roomy starbase, that's what it is," Will said, glancing at him with a warm smle before looking back again. "Isn't that beautiful? Actually, it's fucking ugly, but it's nice..."

Lee laughed, "whatever you say Will."

The shuttle entered the bay and touched down with a clonk and the engines started to power down.

Will couldn't get up fast enough. He grabbed his bags, and even if they were heavy with books he seemed to be too eager to notice. The guitar was being sent directly to the Galaxy, as well as the heavier items he owned. Clothes and books, that was what he was carrying now. "Cheers!" he called to the pilot, rushing past him and out in the shuttle bay, taking deep breaths.

Lee picked up his small cylindrical bag, the Flight Ops department on a starbase had porters to deal with the heavier luggage, who had anti-grav sleds and the majority of Lee's belongings should already be on the Galaxy, however it wouldn't be the first time they'd ended up in the wrong sector, or quadrant. He followed Will out of the shuttle.

"Now that's what I call a grin," he said, nodding at Will's smile.

Will laughed, close to tears before chuckling. "Oh yes...now all I need is a shower and a drink. Not necessarily in that order."

"Do you want to take your stuff on to the ship, and I'll catch up with you in the lounge, 'Ten Forward' is it on a Galaxy class?" Lee asked.

"No idea...but I think some food would be nice. There should be someplace we can eat here," Will said, looking at him with a small smile.

"Well what do you like? I guess they'll have some sort of promenade area, Starbase's usually do..." Lee replied.

"I'm up for anything," Will said with a grin, meeting his eyes. "But first, a shower. I have to smell by now."

"Well I wasn't going to say anything," Lee replied with his cheeky grin. "So give me a shout when you're showered and changed and we'll find somewhere over here."

"Good idea," Will said with a small nod, chuckling as he started to walk. "I'll just go to the gym...take a shower there and change."

"Ah so that's how you got that stomach..." Lee said.

The two headed for the turbolifts at the side of the shuttlebay, the Galaxy was no-doubt docked directly with the station and so protocol dictated it was preferential to walk aboard as the transporters would be in use for engineering or bringing cargo aboard.

"I don't work out...not in that sense anyway,"Will admitted, grinning to him. "And aren't you a charmer."

Lee laughed in response, "I'm just being honest, and in what sense do you work out?"

"I...do a bit of martial arts, when the mood strikes me," Will admitted, chcukling as he looked down. "But that's all."

"Am I flattering you Mister Warbeck?" Lee said, as they boarded the first turbolift. "Docking port of the USS Galaxy."

The lift doors hissed closed and they began to move.

Will frowned as he closed his eyes, keeping his breathing steady. "I think you are..."

"Ah I'll stop then, not keen on turbolifts either?" Lee said, cocking his head to the side slightly as he watched Will.

"Small, tight spaces," Will murmured, taking a breath as he reached out to touch the wall.

"Are you ok?" Lee said, noticing his colour draining slightly.

Will gave a small, curt nod. "Yes," he whispered, wetting his lips.

Lee was half-ready to catch Will, when he felt the lift shift direction. "Almost there, remember your breathing Will.

"I am fucking breathing," Will said, frowning as his hand turned into a fist.

Lee couldn't bare to watch Will suffer, he wasn't exactly sure what to do either. He moved closer to Will and put his arm around his shoulders. "Try to keep calm, we'll be there in a second."

Will took a deeper breath, looking down. "It's easier when I know how long it takes," he said in a quiet voice. "Then I can count."

"Ok..." Lee said, he looked around. "Computer...how long until we reach the docking port..."

["One minute and thirty-three point two seconds"] the computer replied in it's dulcet female tones.

"Bloody hell..." Will murmured, taking a deep breath as he brought his hand to his face.

Lee still didn't know what to do, he felt helpless, considering he was supposed to be trained in this sort of field, it was different when you were dealing with a friend.

"Is there anything I...I can do?" he stuttered slightly.

"No..." Will shook his head, his hand going to take Lee's. He squeezed it gently. "It's okay. Don't worry about me. I can handle it."

Lee nodded, he knew Will would have gone through this before, he knew he would know how to deal with it, but surely there was something that could be done about it. He waited, willing them to go faster.

Will opened his eyes before smiling weakly, starting to hum. After a moment he started to sing, his voice quiet and not too bad. "Snow can wait, I forgot my mittens. Wipe my nose, get my new boots on..." he chuckled, blushing yet it calmed him. "I run off where the drifts get deeper. Sleeping Beauty atrips me with her frown. I hear her voice 'you must learn to stand up for yourself because I can't always be around'...When you gonna make up your mind? When you gonna love you as much as I do? When you gonna make up your mind...cause things are gonna change so fast..." He knew he was messing the lyrics up, that he was forced to bring the song down a bit to be able to reach the notes...but he didn't care. This was why he tried to go in turbolifts alone. Because then he could sing or do something to take it off his mind.

Lee smiled, and let him continue, he didn't know the song or he would have joined in.

It was a long minute and a half, and Will kept the song up until they stopped. He took a deep breath as the doors opened and walked quickly out. "Thank god."

"That way," Lee pointed to the long corridor leading to the USS Galaxy. "Big ship."

He looked through the viewports as they walked along the docking arm corridor, he had never seen a Galaxy Class starship, it was huge.

"I know..." Will said, his breathing easing again. He wiped his brow with his sleeve. "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

Lee nodded, slightly in awe at Galaxy's size and prowess. Engineers were busy all over the outside of the saucer section above and to their left, it looked as though the refit was nearing completion. Lee didn't know what the ship was like before, and so the new design didn't appear 'new'.

"Personally, I find starships ugly, but there you go," Will laughed, winking playfully to him.

"Well this must be one of the least ugliest..." Lee added. "It's home, I never find home ugly."

"Home is where the heart is," Will said, nodding as he looked at him. "Too bad my heart isn't here today...give me a few months though, and I'll tell everyone that this is my home."

Lee smiled as they approached the double doors at the end of the corridor. The bio-scanners would have already scanned them by now and the doors slid open to allow them access to the ship.

"You want a hand with those bags," Lee said, realising his companion had been carrying them from the shuttle.

"I can handel it," Will assured him, smiling as they walked. "I just like having my things close."

"Ok," Lee replied. "Do you know where our quarters are?"

"Well....no," Will admitted, chuckling as he stopped.

"I'll ask then," he said, approaching the panel on the wall. He placed his hand on the dark reflective surface. "Computer, location of quarters for Ensign Warbeck and Ensign Rowe."

The computer replied in it's usual 'to-the-point' fashion, "Ensign Warbeck and Ensign Rowe's quarters are on deck 7."

"Good," Will said with a small smile, nodding. "Wouldn't be problem then."

"That's another lift ride..." Lee hated to mention it. "Are you up to it?"

Will nodded, forcing a smile to Lee. "Of course I am up for it."

Lee smiled, and headed for the nearest turbolift, he was slightly hesitant about going in with Will, but the only other option was the jefferies tubes, which he was sure would be even worse.

Will walked in without heistating, but it was all a show. He didn't want to worry Lee, so he forced a bright smile as they stood there. He could get through this. He'd just...pretend. Make believe.

Lee was slightly surprised at Will's behaviour, he wasn't sure whether the confidence was real or a front. Either way it looked convincing and Lee stepped in behind him.

"Deck 7," he called out and the lift started to move.

Will looked at Lee, not meeting his eyes but keeping the smile. "So, what is the first thing you want to do when you get on duty?"

"What I want to do and what they have in store for me are probably too different things..." he replied with a slight smile. "Whilst we're here I want to have a look around that outpost below us, but I'm sure there'll be someone in need of my services."

Will nodded, watching him for a long moment. He was pale, but the smile was there, even if it was becoming somewhat fake. "Hm...I think have to meet my chief first."

Yeh, same here," Lee replied. "Or at least someone in the department." The lift slowed and stopped, and the doors slid open. Lee stepped out and looked around.

Will stepped out with a deep breath, looking around. "Nice enough," he said, walking down the corridor.

As they walked down the corridor Lee was reading the names on the doors to the quarters. He pointed to a door as they approached.

"Great!" Will smiled as he looked at him. "Do you want to wait, or get settledin your own quarters? I won't be more than ten minutes."

"I'll go make sure my stuff's arrived and not gone to Q'uonos," he said smiling. "See you in ten minutes."

"See you," Will said, smiling as he walked into his quarters. He searched out a few clothes...jeans and a dark tee shirt, before wlaking to the shower. He left the bathroom door open as he undressed and stepped into the shower, clothing his eyes as the sweat was washed from his body.

Lee made his way further along the corridor and soon found the door to his own quarters. He entered and found his cases piled in the middle of the room, where the porters always dumped them. He didn't really have time to unpack and so opened the top case and picked out the first thing he came to, a pair of black loose cargo pants and a light blue t-shirt. As he pulled off his blue Starfleet undershirt he soon realised a shower was needed and hit the sonic shower for a few minutes, before getting changed.

"Interlude"

Commander Cassius Henderson,
Commanding Officer,
USS Valkyrie

Ensign Saul Bental
Intelligence Officer,
USS Valkyrie

****

Intelligence C&C,
Deck 2,
USS Valkyrie

Things became pretty calm once the Valkyrie began its long journey.

It took Saul two days just to settle down. It was the first time he actually got the job of a department head. So true, it was temporary, and the department contained only one officer called Saul Bental, but it didn't reduce the amount of work or the responsibility tossed over Saul's gaunt shoulders.

The Valkyrie's intelligence center was the most advanced ship-board intelligence center that Saul had ever seen. Some of the devices were beyond his own knowledge, so he left them alone for the time being, but wondered at the kind of influence that Cassius had to be able to pull such a ship from one of Starfleet's Black Ops groups.

Less than thirty hours into warp flight, you couldn't look at any direction in the center without seeing a display showing streaming Intelligence reports, a map, or an enemy vessel's schematics. In the room's port side, a holographic projector displayed a three-dimensional map. The Valkyrie's route was a yellow-green snake, zig-zaging between the stars.

Saul lowered his gaze from the projection to the PADD he held. It contained the casualty report from the Galaxy. It seemed that the 'name on the manifest', the person he knew on the Galaxy, was dead. More accurately, the person was listed missing in action, but so were many others whose corpses were vaporized or disintegrated during the fight. Even Saul's own Intel department had three MIAs listed, and Saul didn't expect to see any of them alive.

He was still trying to establish whether he was sad or felt relief about the person's demise when the doors to the Intelligence office sled open.

"Mr. Bental," Cassius said, stepping into the room, "I see you're becoming acquainted with the workings of the office. If you have any questions as to the nature of the equipment, I've instructed Flight Officer A'Akledorian to fill you in, within reason."

"The hot An- I mean, the Andorian, right? I'll keep that in mind. This is like an Intel officer's playground." Saul beamed. "Though the most important part of the Intelligence work is done here, not on those gadgets." He added, pointing at his temple.

"Yeah, the hot Andorian. This indeed an analyst's dream, as I'm quite aware of," Henderson nodded in agreement and gestured toward his own head, "I served for almost four years in SFI. It was the most harrowing part of my life. Makes me wonder why I reactivated last month. But I'm sure you've been briefed on that."

Saul frowned unconsciously. "No, actually I wasn't briefed on that. But then again, I doubt anyone on SFI expected you to take me on this flight."

He took another moment to let Henderson's words truly sink in. "You don't know why you were re-activated? And is this the reason why we were given the Valkyrie?"

"Oh no, I know exactly why I was reactivated," Henderson said, "I asked for it, and I put SFI in a place where Admiral Illyanovitch couldn't afford to not do it."

Saul nodded solemnly. Even though his first assignment could be considered a 'field assignment', he didn't look as himself as an 'operative', and didn't relate to the 'cloak and dagger' part of Intelligence. He decided not to pry more.

"So, how can I put all of this." Saul gestured at the 'playground', "to good use?"

"Our mission objective is fairly simple. Find Lt. Pennington and return her to Starbase 212 for processing," Cassius managed not to stumble on the words. Having to say them made him slightly sick to his stomach, but it was all for the best in the end. "What I need you to do is contact the Chiefs of Security for all of the likely destinations and search their records for trace of her. Right now, we believe that she's gone to ground on Bajor, but we can't be certain."

"I thought as much." Saul agreed, reflecting on his conversation with the Bajoran pilot last night. He rubbed his lower lip with his fingers, like he always did when he was deep in thought. "She's Human, right? I read the parts of her file I had access to. Why would she escape to Bajor, of all places in the Galaxy?"

"I'm not sure. The only connection to Bajor that I know of, is her roommate at Starfleet Academy. She's serving on the USS Miranda now, if you want to try to get her on the comm," Cass offered, "Family name starts with a P, I think. It's all in her file."

"I'll check it out." replied Saul, quickly tapping a nearby console to write down that information.

"Say, have you been feeling all right lately?" the Galaxy's XO asked Saul, "You've seemed a little preoccupied since Havras."

Saul was surprised. He didn't expect anyone to follow the behaviour of a lowly Intel Ensign, let alone the Galaxy's second in command.

Obviously, he was not going to fall in his knees and confess.

"I think most of us are, sir. The battle of Havras was my first space combat experience, but I suspect it wasn't easy even for veterarns."

He paused for a moment, trying to gain a dramatic effect while praying that Henderson wasn't secretly a telepath. Somewhere in the corners of his mind, Saul was uneasy about not telling the whole truth and putting an act in front of someone who obviously trusted him, but it was all part of the game.

"But it takes more than a little stellar brawl to crack me, and I think I'm going to be fine." Saul said, flashing a smile. "I think this little quest is a step in the right direction to put the experience of the Havras battle behind me."

Cassius nodded, "I hope so."

"Thanks for asking, by the way." Saul added shyly. This time, he was completely sincere.

"Of course, Saul," Henderson nodded, "Unless you have some more questions, I have to get back to the bridge fairly soon." He let the statement hang in the air.

"No more questions, sir. I'll go over the materials and contact some people including the Academy roommate on the Miranda. We'll find her."

Henderson nodded at him, spun on his heels and strode out of the Intelligence center. Saul returned to his work with elevated motivation, determined not to let the Commander down.

"Computer, start composing a message to the USS Miranda. Name of the recepient is…" He pressed a couple of times on one of the consoles, "Commander Arel Smith…"

"Revelations"

Ensign William Warbeck
Tactical Officer
USS Galaxy

Ensign Lee Rowe
Counselor
USS Galaxy

*****

Location: Starbase 212 Promenade

*****

Will smiled as he sat down with the food before him. "I love Indian food," he said, smiling warmly to Lee. He was showered and starving. And nothing helped as much as a good Indian meal. "It's Tandoori Chicken...rather brilliant." He broke off a piece of nan bread, holding his eyes.

Lee sat down opposite Will, "I've got to admit Indian's not my favourite, but at times like this I'll eat anything," he said smiling.

"So what is your favourite?" Will asked, taking a fork full of rice.

"Well," Lee replied, tearing a piece of bread himself. "I love Italian, and Greek, and Chinese."

"Greek is nice," Will agreed with a small smile, watching him: "My favourite is oddly enough Speak and Ale Pie though...of all the food in the universe, that's what I love the most."

"I'll try to remember that..." Lee replied, and took a fork full of the chicken in it's spicy sauce.

"What? You going to cook for me now?" Will laughed, sipping his water.

"You're joking aren't you?" Lee said, looking up from his food. "They invented replicators so I didn't have to cook."

"Hm..." Will laughed warmly as he took another bite, studying him. "There is a difference, you know, between replicated food and real food."

"Yeh, I know," Lee said. He looked slightly surprised as he bit into the piece of chicken. "This is quite good you know...I've never been able to cook, it was always something I was going to learn."

"I know how to cook," Will said, strangely proud over that fact. "I am not brilliant, but I'll do."

"That sounds like an invite for me to try it," Lee replied, looking up.

"It is. I always cook for my friends," Will said with a warm smile, winking as he took a larger bite. "God, I'm hungry..." he moaned at the taste, reaching out for more of the yogurt sauce.

"I look forward to it, so how did you find out about this place then?" Lee said, glancing around the restraunt they were sitting in.

"Well...I overheard someone mention it," he said, smiling warmly to Lee. "Seemed decent enough."

"It's really nice, we'll have to come again if we get chance before we leave," Lee replied, he noticed Will was watching him, and glanced down at his food.

Will chuckled, his foot brushing against Lee's. "You alright, mate?"

Lee looked and smiled. "Yeah I'm fine," he looked up again and met Will's eyes.

"Sure? Because...sometimes, you just seem to blush and look away from me," Will moved a little closer, frowning slightly. "I'm not...scaring you, am I?"

"No," Lee managed a slight chuckle at the suggestion. "I....I dunno, I've never...erm...."

He paused unsure of what to say, or how he would say it. "I...you're not scarey ok!" he said, finishing his stutter abruptly.

Will chuckled, sipping his drink as he looked down. "Is it the energy then?" he asked, looking back at him with a small smile.

"It could be, you're much more outgoing and happier than on the shuttle you've got to admit!" Lee said, smiling back at him.

"I didn't mean that energy...though that might be the case," Will said, chuckling as he took more bread. "No...I mean the other energies. I once had a girlfriend who said I had a powerful sexual energy. But she might have said that just to flatter me."

Lee looked at him stunned for a second, the sparkle in his eyes was all he could focus on. "Erm..." he mumbled, a piece of chicken stuck on the end of his fork. "I...I do think you're quite good looking....it could be..."

He looked down again and quickly stuffed the chicken in his mouth to stop himself saying anything else that felt ridiculous.

Will chuckled, looking down as he thought for a moment. "Lee...it's okay," he said, looking at him. "I think you're very attractive too. Nothing to be embarrassed about. We're friends. So it's okay."

Lee looked up again and swallowed the chicken, feeling slightly more confident he smiled back at Will. "Thanks, I mean that's good...I...I just never felt attracted to a guy before." He looked slightly bewildered at what he had just said, and then smiled again and took another bite of food.

"No shame..." Will chuckled as he sipped his drink. He watched Lee fondly. Poor thing needed some guidiance in this world. "I'm bisexual."

Lee was again slightly stunned, but didn't particularly show it, this dinner had proved to be interesting, the one thing he liked most about people was the total randomness and differing personalities. If he had still been at Med School, this would have been an ideal case study conversation.

"I think you're not the only one," Lee smiled, his confidence returning, and with it his sense of humour.

Will chuckled, watching him fondly. "Well, look at it this way. No matter what you do, you're bound to get a shag!" he laughed warmly, winking to him.

"Well yeh, if you put it like that..." Lee said nodding. "It's just greediness."

"Yes. Exactly. So long live greediness," Will said, raising his glass with a small smile.

"Quite," Lee agreed his English accent showing, he raised his glass. "To greediness..."

"Communique"

(Then)Lt. JG Dr. Klaus Fienberg,
Temporary CMO,
USS Valkyrie

Location: Sickbay, USS Valkyrie

Again Klaus found himself reading a message on his PaDD.

Alberion Savage decided to drop a line.

===========================
Begin Message
===========================

Decryption Complete: Displaying Message.

Klaus my boy. I hear you're doin' good. Enjoy that temporary assignment as CMO, it may not last. But...It's a change I suppose. Now to business.


Things are getting strange. We know you may try to do something rash if you encounter Dr. Engleman. You may end your lifetime of peace. Listen to me. We may need to keep Dr. Engleman alive in order to find out if there really is anyone behind him. His actions suggest he isn't just plotting to kill only you. I honestly believe he has other targets. Possibly key members of Starfleet, like key Captains, and flag officers. I know it sounds strange, insane even, but there is more to this than simple revenge. I have included a piece of heavily encrypted data. Only one man has the encryption key for it. Give this to Mr. Stiener.

================
WARNING: The Following Data is unable to be decrypted.
================

~Captain Savage......what the hell are you up too. Your thoughts on the matter are way too far fetched. No matter. Starfleet DOES needs men like you. The conspiracy theorist. I do think he has more Targets.....just ones we both know.~

Klaus put the pad down on the desk. One of the nurses from his skeleton staff approached, noticing the look of concern on Dr. Fienberg's face.

"Doctor? Is everything alright?" She asked with great concern in her heavy japanese accent.

Klaus looked up and smiled. "Yes, Nurse Tashima. Everything is fine. Just a message from an old friend."

"Upon Return"

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell,
Engineering

Nara walked along the corridors. She had finished her first shift from being back. She couldn't believe how much she missed it and how satisfying it was to feel to rebuild a ship.

She pondered over her conversation with Cernu. She had decided he helped her as much, and possibly more, than anyone could at the moment and left him to complete his errand. She smiled wondering who he would choose. She would have to check up on him later.

Her problem was a bit darker, however. She knew she needed to see the captain. She even wanted to. Just to get this off herself. She was just scared.

She frowned when she realized what she needed to do. Her mother said if there was anything troubling her outside of her own ability to "get over it" in due time, to seek out a counselor. Nara took a deep breath through her nose like an angry bull as she marched towards the counseling section. Anyone in passing would think she was going to murderize him. She was simply quite annoyed at her need for one. Warriors shouldn't need counseling! However, something deep inside her--common sense--told her she would be a better warrior if she took care of this correctly. A better person even.

"Devil In The Details" Part 5

(Takes place thirty seconds after the end of Part 4)

Principal Characters

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Imperial Attendant K'vala Mahask

Secondary Characters

Phnel, Denobulan Weapons Collector
and
Merchant Dhlur,
Phnel's First Wife Dhbin,
Phnel's Second Wife Tlnad,
Dhlur's Oldest brother Klnal,
Dhlur's Middle Brother Vlnadr,
Dhlur's Younger Brother

****

Denobula
Phnel Mansion
Ballroom

Klnal held Victor down for another few heartbeats, and then stepped back, hands raised in victory and roared wordlessly. He turned, still roaring, and took a step towards Phnel, hands dropping menacingly as Dhlur's cries became less strident and more joyous.

Dhbin, face ashen, drew back for a second, and then pushed herself forward to stand between Phnel and the approaching Klnal. "No!" she cried out. "You can't!"

Phnel reached out to grasp his wife - and froze, something between horror and relief on his face.

Dhbin, in turn, threw her hands up and turned aside into Phnel's arms as Klnal reached for them.

A sudden crash from the table behind him brought the Denobulan up short, and he turned to see what Phnel had already seen: Victor, slowly standing up from where Klnal had left him, the knife still embedded in his back. The room fell silent, even Dhlur's constant stream of invective and orders falling off, as everyone watched Victor lift himself off the table.

As he turned, the crimson geloid salad slipped down and fell away from his face piece by piece, like flesh and blood sloughing away from a corpse. Underneath it, revealed as the dessert fell away, Death looked out through Victor's eyes and smiled.

"Do you remember," it whispered in a voice that ran throughout the room, digging into the spines of everyone present with claws of frozen fear, "when I said that I didn't have a reason to want to hurt you?"

Klnal simply stared, frozen in place.

Death took a single step forward with Victor's feet, and widened its smile, the expression now enough to force people to retreat as his presence filled the room and began to hammer at them. It continued to advance slowly. "Do you remember?" Death repeated, as if speaking to a child.

Klnal took a step back, then another and another in a vain attempt to keep the distance between himself and the thing approaching him constant. He stammered something in Denobulan, the words too fast to understand, and shook his head negatively.

"Just as well," Death whispered, the claws its voice had sunk into spines about the room digging in and tensing, as if preparing to rip themselves free with his final words. "Because I have a reason now." He smiled again and reached for the retreating Denobulan.

Klnal made a high-pitched sound like escaping steam, and started to turn and run.

He was too late.

****

Denobula
Phnel Estate
Ballroom

The screaming had died down to an occasional whimper when something jerked at Victor's arm and drew his attention from the warm blanket of red that covered his thoughts. He blinked, started to reach for the source of the interruption, realized that there was something heavy in his hands and let it go, a sodden thud sounding a moment later.

Someone was speaking to him, he was sure of that. He wasn't certain what they were saying, though. He considered that for a moment, and finally decided that he needed to swim higher, to the surface of the red ocean that he was floating in so the waters didn't muffle the words.

He frowned with the effort that it took to struggle up into the air, to free himself of the warm red waters. It didn't seem as if it had been this difficult the last time. Or had it? Had he been here before, lost in the ocean of red? He must have been, since he knew this was more difficult than before, mustn't he?

That led him to the thought that perhaps it wasn't as difficult as he thought it was. He was moving, after all, and the way that the words were getting closer to understandable meant he was swimming up to the surface and not down into the depths. Maybe he was really swimming faster and more easily than he had before and just didn't realize it? After all, he didn't seem to remember much about doing this before.

He spent a moment trying to recall 'before' and, as he was doing so, burst through to the surface - and understanding.

He *had* done this before. The sense of déjà vu *was* real. He'd been lost in the ocean of red inside his head and been brought out of it just like this, by the same person, once before. On the Galaxy, after Dargha and his cronies had beaten him and left him for dead. After he'd come for them that same night when he'd crawled up off the deck and followed them. That time, it had been the Attendant who had been talking to him when he surfaced, trying to get him to stop.

This time, however, he was able to hear the words that she was saying, unlike that night a lifetime ago on the Galaxy. He wondered why that was, and finally decided that it was because he wasn't as badly injured as he'd been that night. That made sense, so there was no point in worrying about it further.

"... stop now," she was saying quietly, her hand still on his arm where she'd pulled on it. "Come back. Do you hear me? It's over, come back and be yourself again, Erik."

Erik? Who was...? Oh. That was the name he was using now, the one he'd chosen as an alias. He wasn't supposed to use her name either, not her real one, the one she was so proud of. What was he supposed to call her again?

"It's me, V'kala, Erik. Say you recognize me. Follow my voice. Come back to me."

V'kala, that was it. He was supposed to call her that now. Because... Because they were on a mission, and they were undercover and he... was standing in Phnel's ballroom, the guests that hadn't fled staring at him in horror and fear as Klnal's blood dripped from his hands to the floor.

"V... V'kala?" Victor said quietly, and just like that it was over. The red tide lapping around him receded, and, for better or worse, he was himself again.

The Attendant relaxed at the sound of his voice and nodded - which Victor took to be a distraction to prevent him from hearing the soft rasp as the knife in her free hand retracted back into her sleeve. "Yes, V'kala," she said reassuringly.

Victor looked around the room. Among the greatly reduced number of guests present he picked out faces that he knew: Phnel the relief on his face almost totally obscured by an emotion Victor was far more familiar with; Dhbin, who wasn't looking at him at all, but had her hands over her ears and her face buried in her husband's chest; Dhlur, who was standing there, ashen-faced and finally silent, the countdown on the wall screen clicking off the last few seconds behind her; Tlnad and Vlnadr, Dhlur's remaining brothers, one still unconscious and the other huddled near him protectively, terrified eyes on Victor and the whimpering form at his feet. Finally, he looked back and down at Klnal, whimpering and broken at his feet.

"I..." Victor said quietly, but failed to go any further, leaving the rest of whatever he'd been about to say hanging as it fled his mind.

The Attendant looked at him penetratingly for a moment, and said quietly, "What is your name?"

"Erik... Todeshändler," Victor answered slowly, making certain that he gave the alias and not his real name.

"What is my name?" she asked again, voice still quiet.

"V'kala."

"Where are we?"

Victor blinked. "Phnel's ballroom."

"Where is that room located?"

"Denobula."

She nodded. "Do you remember why you were fighting? Before the muH veqlargh [roughly 'killing demon'] came?"

"Because... Phnel is my friend. I stood for him at his divorce. They were... Dhlur's - the woman he was divorcing - brothers."

She nodded again and asked carefully, "Which of them stabbed you, Erik?"

Victor wasn't certain why that was important. It wasn't, after all, as if she wasn't going to do the same to him herself once he was no longer useful. "He did," he answered, pointing to the broken man on the floor at their feet.

The Attendant looked down and frowned. "Do you wish him to die?"

Victor thought about that for a moment. Did he? Klnal would have killed him if he could have... no, no, there was no point to it. Not like this. Victor looked down again. Even with medical attention, he didn't think Klnal would ever be even a poor imitation of a threat to anyone again - his body would heal, but his spirit would still be broken.

"Do you wish him dead?" the Attendant asked again.

"No." Victor shook his head. He hadn't killed Dargha and his friends, and they'd hurt him worse than this man had. "There's no need."

"As you wish."

Victor looked up at the Attendant for a moment. She was acting oddly. No yelling, a different tone of voice and different body language.... He looked down. She was even still holding his forearm where she'd grabbed it. He looked up again and tried to figure out what was wrong - and blinked. Now that he really looked at her, she didn't even look the same.

Her hair was worn loose, not tightly bound as he'd seen on every other occasion, and spilled down her back. She had donned hints of cosmetics that subtly altered her features - enough that Victor could tell that they were there, but not so much that he thought anyone here besides he could. She'd changed her clothing as well. Gone was the heavy, black leather bodysuit that she'd always worn, replaced with black leather pants made from softer leather that accentuated her legs and hips, and a black leather jacket worn over a black shirt. The only thing that was the same was the mek'leth and d'k'tagh that she wore, and the knives he knew she still wore up her sleeves - they hadn't changed.

Victor studied her for a moment and then suddenly realized what had happened. This wasn't K'vala, not really. This was the woman she was pretending to be for the assignment - V'kala. That's why everything was different. "V'kala," he said to fix the image in his mind, and then frowned and reached around behind him with the arm she didn't hold for the knife embedded in his back.

The attendant slapped at his arm, "Stop that, Erik. I'll tend to you in a minute. It missed anything vital."

Victor frowned, but dropped his hand. The knife hurt, but not so much that it was disabling. "He didn't know human anatomy."

"That is why he still lives," she replied with a hint of her old fire. "If he had hurt you badly, he would have died slowly enough that the pain you gave him would seem but a pleasant day's pastime."

Victor doubted that given what he'd seen when he'd looked down at Klnal, but it didn't seem polite to correct her. He shifted his weight, about to test his ability to walk, but was stopped as the Attendant tightened her hold on his arm and shook her head. "Bide, husband," she said, and turned towards Phnel and his now-single wife.

For some reason, Victor found it difficult to concentrate on whatever it was that she said to them after that.

"unwanted discovery"

by Turan Trelar -
juvenile civilian away team member,
wannabe engineer,
former boy scout,
Quentite 'ambassador'
with an unauthorized appearance of the other team members

Wherever the torch's beam touched the wall, there was nothing than rock - old fashioned rather massive looking rock.

"Dead end" commented the Quentite giant.

"Can't be" widersprach Zan. "according to the tricorder readings we are less than ten steps away from the energy source - this direction ..."

Zan pointed forward at the point where the tunnel was blocked by massive rock..

"All right" agreed Turan. "Who wants to be the first to walk through the wall?"

"Hey boy ... calm down. Things aren't always like they seem." The Arkedi, the second Frua'lin intervened. She stepped forward and examined the whole wall with her tricorder - square inch by square inch.

"Indeed the wall seems to be massive. At least two meters. There is one area near the left corner where the rock is less than two fingers thick with a kind of tube or wire behind. Arkedi touched the area of thin rock. Within the blink of an eye the rock disappeared.

"A hologram?" asked Zan. "Not really" explained Arkedi." There were no signs of holodeck technology. The wall was real - probably replicated and formed to its builders' needs but nevertheless as massive as it felt."

The away team entered a large room. Anything in the room was covered with dust. Dust of a thickness it must have had settled on the panels and boards for several generations. There wasn't any light flashing any beeping sound - just silence and darkness.

"Nobody at home" said Turan.

Zan turned around. Accidentally, his wing tip touched one of the semi-transparent sheets hanging from the ceiling like sails ... or canvas screens."

The screen came to life displaying a solar system with a twin star orbited by eight planets. While seven of the planets where painted in a pale blue color, one was bright red.

Zan walked over to the next screen ready to touch that one, too.

"Stop!" ordered 8-ball. "Remember the prime directive."

"Oh come on, replied Zan "it's already to late to disappear without being notified. These screens seem to be in a kind of screen saver mode. The are meant to be waken up."

Zan touched the screen. A display full of different signs appeared. The largest two of the signs changed almost with the frequency.

Turan glanced at the signs. "A kind of a count ... a cycle of twelve different symbols, then there's a change on the next digit."

Turan drew the signs into the dust covering the floor as they appeared, then wrote the numbers 0 to 11 next to the letters. He copied the number displayed by the screen and started translating.

597284309847

"597284309847 what?" asked Miller.

"597284309847 of their time units" answered Turan "about 1.10 seconds each"

"1.0972 seconds" intervened Zan "that's a different with a number like that"

"So it's counting for ... " Miller tried to ask.

"655340344764.13 seconds ... or 182038984.66 hours or 7584957.69 days or ... 20766.48 years"

"20766 years, 176 days, 4 hours, 39 minutes and 24.12841794 seconds to be precise" calculated Arkedi.

"The other one seems to be a down-counter ... 94541378" reported Turan.

Again, Arkedi was first to present the result calculated to Star Fleet standard time:

"3 years, 104 days, 20 hours, 6 minutes and 39,93150574 seconds. Probaby the sphere's eta at it's destination".

"Let's check" proposed Zan. "Computer. Search for twin star systems in reach of this object traveling with the same speed for additional four years."

=/\= Searching =/\= answered the shuttle's computer.

There was almost one minute of silence until the computer presented the results of it's search.

=/\= Search completed in 56.349 seconds. No objects found in flight control database.

One object found in history database. Plausibility 97,4% =/\=

"Computer - short summary" ordered Zan.

"Nova 326 - remains of twin star system. Exploded stardate 12312.17 (OOC: about 380 years ago). ETA 3 years 97 days, 5 hours 17,234 seconds"

Suddenly, Turan felt sick. "Does it mean, this globe traveled for more than 20000 years to be swallowed by a dying star in less than four years?"

"Right" nodded Arkedi "and any life form on this globe will be killed.

"But ... but ..." Turan paused "isn't there anything we can do."

Arkedi shook her head no "I must regret we can't. Remember the prime directive."

Turan sat down. "The prime directive. Yes of course - Commander Henderson took my vow, too. But without disobeying the prime directive this planet's life will end at all. "

"It's not forbidden to consider the options" offered Arkedi.

"Computer, create new scenario. Plot courses to any solar systems without any class-M-planet. Within a range of 94000000 seconds" with a course change of less than 5 degrees ordered Zan.

"Can't say if the globe's gravity and inertia dampening unit allows a stronger maneuver" explained he.

=/\= Calculating ... please wait =/\=

The silence following the request was virtually nerve tearing.

=/\= One object found. Star 4582 - ETA 87423439. Last occasion to change course X + 12798 seconds =/\= answered the computers artificial voice.

"Could have lived without that information" commented Miller. "It's hard enough to now anybody on this planet will be killed without knowing we could easily save them if we were allowed."

"So what will we do now?" asked Turan.

"AWOL"

Paulo DiMillo,
AWOL Starfleet Intelligence Officer

Paulo sat in his cell in the New Zealand Penal Colony. He had been here for about 2 months after being found guilty of going awol, stealing Starfleet property, other theft, firing on Starfleet and Romulans ships, avoiding capture, and crossing into Romulans space without clearance. He now wondered what had sent him on this downward spiral. It must have been 6 months ago now.

***6 Months Ago***

It had been a few months ago when this downward track had started. He had been pulled back to Starfleet Intelligence after being on the Galaxy for only a few months. There he worked well, he even got promoted to Lt. Jg. and had a small staff that worked under him. All he could remember was getting a letter from an anoynomus source telling where his little sister was. He used his own sources, and even some Starfleet sources to dig around to see if this letter was true or not. Everything he got back was positive. His approached his head and asked for a ship and a few men to go investigate to see if his sister was there. It was denied as it was listed a low priority by Starfleet Command. That is what started it.

That evening, after going back to his apartment, he packed up a few things, a phaser with some power cells, a tricorder, a micro communicator that later got surgically implanted just under his ear, under the skin. He took some field rations and headed back to Starfleet Intelligence. From there he beamed up to Starbase One, and he headed for the hanger deck. He bypassed some security measures and beamed aboard a runabout and stole it right under Starbase One's eyes. He made off like a rocket it. He had a starship after him, the USS Stronghold, but Paulo was able to lose them in the asteroid belt. From there he set course for his destination deep within Romulan Space.

Paulo was at warp for over a month before he got to his destination. He had to avoid many Starfleet and Romulan patrols. The Romulans had apparently bbeen warned that Paulo may head into their space as he had to evaid a Warbird more then once.

He arrived at a backwater world. A class-L planet. He could breath in it, but it had nothing in a way of food that he could eat. He landed on the far outskirts of a small settlement and trekked his way in. Here he found Romulans, and many other species (some he had never seen or heard about). It wasn't hard to find the contact that had sent him the note, and the contact had led him to a small building north of town. Here Paulo was told to wait. He took out his phaser and tricorder and started to scan. When he found everything safe he sat down to take a bite to eat, then everything went black. The next thing he knew he was in this cellar.

Over the past months he had been tortured, beaten, and even drugged for information. He hadn't given anything away due to his training, but each time it got worse. The beatings and the drugs. He now sat there. He had lost over 50lbs, and he was very very weak. Then he was saved. A Romulans security team had rescued him from that hell whole. He was brought back to health by a Romulan doctor and then sent back to the Federation for trial. He of course was found guiltily on all charges and was sent to the New Zealand Penal Colony.

***Present***

Paulo sat there. He had nothing really to do. He spent most of his time in his cell reading or something. As he was reading one day a Starfleet Admiral came to visit him. He offered Paulo a second chance. He would be reinstated as an Ensign in Starfleet Intelligence and sent back to the USS Galaxy, which was currently going under a retrofit. Paulo of course agreed.

"You will report to the Starbase One immediately. From there you will be shipped back to SB212 where the Galaxy is currently in dock. You will have to check in with security while you are there and see a Counselor for 6 months, more if the Counselor deems it."

"Yes sir," Paulo replied. Paulo saluted and followed the Admiral out.

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