"Will the Real Jeremy Savoie Please Shut Up"

Lt. Jeremy Savoie
Chief Helmsman

~I should be asleep.~

With a little grumbling and a lot of rustling of his bed sheets, Jeremy tried to turn away from the thought.

~I should be making some constructive use of this time if I can't sleep,~ his mind added, undaunted by a vague attempt at counting sheep.

~I should at least be thinking about something important.~

Finally, he gave in. Pissed at himself for not successfully getting to bed at a reasonable hour, as he had futilely promised himself he would do, Jeremy jumped out of bed. "Milk," he groused to the replicator, taking the glass as instantly as it materialized.

The helmsman's mind had been astir for more than just the past few minutes. More than a few hours. Even more than a few days. Truth was, Jeremy wasn't even sure when the shift had taken place. Could have been days or weeks. Nor was he even sure what all the excess mental energy was about. But whatever it was, it left him without a moment's peace.

He wandered over to the window and stared out into the stars. Vague thoughts, as deep as the inky blackness itself, swirled in his head, only briefly coalescing into flickers of something discernable. Sometimes the thoughts were more akin to emotions, raw and elusive, desperately seeking words to give them substance. Sometimes they took the form of suggestions, prodding him to move, to act, to do *something*, even without clearly stating what.

Jeremy hated it when his mind did this.

A counselor had once told him he was so often mentally restless because he was suppressing a much more significant emotional restlessness. "Fuck that," had basically been his typical hot-headed response, even if not in so many words. But deep down, far out of the range of conscious acknowledgement, he knew it was as true then as it still was tonight.

He took a couple gulps of milk and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his t-shirt, then turned away from the stars, wishing it could be as easy to turn away from his own head. Counselors. Always wanting him to talk. But he had nothing to say, and paradoxically, that was part of what bothered him. He had nothing to say that anyone else wanted to hear, no story to tell, no deep insights to share. Not even the hollow façade of impressive words or style. He was uninteresting, unimportant. And what was there to say about that? It would all just be a bunch of whining anyway.

Setting the empty glass down on a table, Jeremy moved toward his computer terminal, then stopped. One of the brief flickers in his head had suggested he talk to someone -- Erin, or his brother, or maybe his father. No. There was no point. He couldn't even form coherent thoughts, how could he form coherent words?

He let the thought evaporate into the darkness around him and decided to go back to bed, a deep seated sense of insignificance covering him as surely as the sheets to which he returned.

Engineering JP: "Miracle Workers"
Lieutenant Brianna O'Shea
Ensign Naranda Roswell
Lieutenant Ella Grey

::: Small Break Room, Engineering Section :::

Walking down the corridor heading toward Engineering, her thoughts were anew. Being away and coming back reminded her just how good she had it here in the Federation. Holding a cup of raktijeno in her hands she sipped it and thought of Ramir once more before she entered the break-room, where Suder had called a meeting.

Walking inside she paused as a few looked in her direction, no doubt wondering why the red haired woman was present and whom exactly she was. Moving over she leaned back against the wall and waited for good time to speak.

Nara looked up from her PADD seeing a woman walk in. Not knowing several of her comrades by face, she just looked back down reading over the new systems. Not the most entertaining thing. In her heart, she wanted to be back home. Even if it meant fighting a war or being part of the peace talks with two very stubborn sides. She had a duty though, so she tried to integrate herself into this whole Starfleet thing. She'd been on the Galaxy quite awhile before the 3 month break and she had been back a couple weeks prior to this meeting. She was just ready for a routine to be made again.
Sometimes routine helped.

Ella slipped into the room, as quiet as usual, and took a chair as far away from the others as she could without being conspicuous. This meant about two chairs down. She looked down at her computer PADD absently, wondering if she would feel any different when she didn't need if to 'speak' anymore.

When things got quiet Brianna stood up. "If I might have everyone's attention," She said as she turned all 'business'. "I'm Lieutenant Brianna O'Shea, Starfleet Corp of Engineers." She said looking around the room. "I'm sure some of you are wondering why the S.C.E. would leave a person behind. I'm on a mission from the S.C.E. My duties for the time being are as this, it is a two fold mission. One, I'm to act as a liaison to S.C.E. and make sure the integrated refit runs smoothly. In the S.C.E. we pride ourselves on performing 'miracles' in a timely manner but with dead on accuracy. Two, I'm also here to evaluate the USS Galaxy's Engineering department." She said looking again around the room.

Ella raised an eyebrow. She typed a short message to O'Shea and slid it across the table. *DEFINE 'EVALUATE.'

"I will be watching how each and everyone handles themselves through this stressing of the new warp drive, and in general. I report solely to the S.C.E. and Captain M'kantu..." She said then paused. "I will not interfere with Chief Suder's commands, but I reserve the right to question them." Brianna said then. "I expect if you have a problem with something I'm doing you come to me, because rest assured if I have problem with you I will come to you and not delegate it to someone else to handle." She said. "I hope that we can work together, if not I can handle that as well. Some of you have worked with me before, I look forward to working with you all again." Brianna said then looked around. "Anyone have a question for me?" She asked then.

Nara had looked up and given Lt. O'shea her full attention. She kept her face neutral but she felt a tinge of oh crap. It was Murphy's Law that when things really need to go well, they don't. That when everything normally goes right, the ONE freakin time something weird happens, some liaison is there to witness it and shut it all down. Of course she was being very dramatic and for a second allowed herself the thought, but then she went to the oh well we'll do the best we can as we always do solution. That's all they could do.
Nara ran her eyes around trying not to move her head to see if anyone actually had a question. O'shea pretty much made it all clear.

"Good.." Anna said about no one having questions. "I've taken the liberty to jot down some instructions I'd like performed within the course of this shift.." She said then looked down at the data padd in her hand. "Ella, I know your work and trust it. So I want you to work on making sure the manifolds are holding. I want diagnostic run on them as well as visual inspection... I've set aside some time to help with it should you need some assistance." Brianna said then looked at Ensign Roswell.

"Ensign.. I've assigned you the task of running a level one diagnostic on the structural integrity of ship and internal damping... I want that done before we go into warp..." Brianna said. "Again, if you need assistance with that.. I've allotted some time to help you out." Brianna said then glanced back down at her padd.

Nara tapped some things into her PADD thinking to herself, ~I don't need any help lady.~ Level one diagnostic. She could do that by her first year at the Academy. The computer did it really. She just had to check the numbers. She knew which ones were good and which were bad.

"Eshe and Suder... I'm going to ask that you two work together.... I want the dilithium crystals changed... we've got a new nacelles, practically new warp core, might as well change out the crystals..."

"Finally for the rest of everyone..." She said looking at those standing around the room. "Carry on with your normal duties... as well as finish off the minor upgrades... you'll find your assignments for those posted in engineering... lastly... I will be making surprise inspections for everyone... is their any questions for the assignments that I've handed out?" Brianna asked as she arched an eye brow.

Nara looked up from her PADD again. She had hoped when they "set sail" again that it would be just normal routine. But no. Some lady had to come in and watch them. She knew evaluations were necessary. She still hated them.

Ella shook her head. She'd do the job and keep out of everyone's way.

Anna looked around. "Since there are no more questions or statements... I'm going to dismiss this meet. We've got work to do before they want the warp drive online. Lets get to work, it's going gonna be a long one." Brianna said then picked her pads up and turned and headed out of the room.

"Samantha Widdlestein's Adventures in Wonderland, Part One"

Samantha Widdlestein, apc
Cmdr. Arel Smith (holographic version)

****

All in the golden afternoon
Full leisurely we glide;
For both our oars, with little skill,
By little arms are plied
While little hands make vain pretence
Our wanderings...

****

"What *is* this guy babbling about?" The holographic representation of Arel Smith asked her younger friend as the two of them waited on the bank under a tree. A pile of daisy chains lay between them, Samantha working diligently on hers and Arel having long since given up on them. "Sounds dirty."

"It's the introduction." Samantha said, trying for prim but ending up with a smile. Arel had harassed some engineer into designing a holo-program and Sam was still glowing from the fact that Arel had taken the time for her during the break at the station, with the baby and everything. "And you said in the letter that you'd be good."

"I remember." Holo-Arel muttered, picking up a daisy chain and spinning it around on her finger. "I was even programmed to wear this stupid dress and apron." Arel dropped the chain and glared at the girl. "You better enjoy it, kid, because it ain't going to happen again."

The dress was a modified version of Alice's: a vibrant blue with a full skirt and a starch white apron with a big bow in the back. She wore black Mary Jane's, which she kept tapping the heels of, and white stockings. Samantha's dress was the same but it looked less ridiculous on her.

"I see you programmed yourself to be less fat." Sam commented.

The hologram snorted. "Creative license."

Samantha thought that Arel must have really felt guilty for not being there with her during the Breen incident for Arel to go through with being dressed like this. It made Samantha's grin widen, which made the hologram frown more.

Sam laughed and then jumped up suddenly. "There he is! The white rabbit! Common, 'Rel, we gotta catch him."

Samantha skipped happily towards the rabbit hole while Arel stalked behind her, daisy chain in hand. The girl hesitated before the hole, looking back at Arel. "You didn't create anything mean to jump out at me, did you?"

The holographic representation of Arel scowled. "I was too busy arguing with the engineer about the drug connotations of this story. Mushrooms, hookahs, eat this, drink that... she was in hysterics by the end of the fifth chapter.

Sam poked her head in, frowning in the dark.

"So I asked my Vulcan babysitter for help and she kept arguing with me about the logical fallacies throughout the whole story." Arel continued. "But I finally got to send it to you."

Samantha ventured further in and was about to comment when she felt solid kick to her rear and went tumbling in headfirst.

"That's for the plank in Peter Pan!" Arel shouted after her, referring to another hologram adventure.

Samantha cursed in perfect Klingon as she somersaulted a few times as she fell. Finally, she was able to turn herself about so that she was falling feet first. The tunnel was dimly lighted and all the required oddities, furniture, books, cans of spam, were there. "Are you coming or is your ass too big to get down here!"

The holo-Arel materialized sitting on a chair beside her with a bored expression on her face. "Aren't we to the bottom yet? This took forever in the book too."

"I think it's fun." Sam said as she jumped from table to teacup to an automobile tire. "And the plank thing was because you ruined my last fairy tale."

"You threw me into an ocean with sharks, crocodiles, and some weird alien thing that even a Klingon wouldn't have eaten." Arel said darkly. "You also pushed me out of a window to try to get me to fly, nearly got me killed by a bunch of mermaids, and had a bunch of brats dressed in road kill sing songs at me."

"But they were so cute." Samantha said as she slowly landed upon the ground. She spotted the table and the little door and then went and grabbed the key and in the direction of the next scene.

"Hey, that's not what happens!" The hologram protested. "There's this whole sequence where you have to eat and drink things and keep growing and shrinking."

"Alice was a twit." Samantha said severely "And I have an intelligence that surpasses most on this ship."

"She was a fictional character." Arel reminded her. "Blame her intelligence on the author."

Sam frowned.

"Have it your way." Arel shrugged as the scene changed to the Pool of Tears. They found themselves swimming to shore besides a rat, some birds, and a dirty looking man named Ian. They all washed ashore, the animals jumping up immediately to get dry. Sam and Arel walked passed them, both ringing out their hair, and the rat called after them that they weren't attending. Arel told him to shove himself in a blender.

"Mary Ann!" The white rabbit exclaimed, popping out suddenly from the bushes. "Fetch me my gloves this moment."

"White gloves on rabbits are so passé." Samantha told him.

"And it's questionable as to whether the species is capable of wearing such an article of clothing." The holo-Arel said tiredly, as if she had heard her own argument more times than she had cared to. "Vulcans, they suck the fun out of everything."

"Really?" The white rabbit asked. "I always thought they made me look suave and sophisticated."

"I think black gloves would suit you better." Samantha said. "They wouldn't blend in as much with your fur. Now, be a good rabbit and go buy some."

"O..okay." The white rabbit said, hopping away uncertainly.

"You're a saint." Arel drawled.

Samantha sighed. "It is my mission in life to help the unfortunate. Do you think he might be able to do something about that bowtie?"

They walked around until they found a caterpillar resting comfortably on an oversized mushroom.

"You wouldn't believe the fight we had over this scene." Arel said. "The engineer was arguing that it was sending the wrong messages to kids."

"What did you tell her." Samantha asked, wondering how to get the caterpillars attention.

"That if she didn't shut up, I'd break her arm." Arel said. "I think she got the message."

"Effective. Excuse me," Sam shouted up to the Caterpillar. "Can you help up?"

The caterpillar peered down at them. "Who are you?"

"I'm Alice." Samantha said. "And that's Ah...er, she's Alice too."

"Alice Two." The caterpillar affirmed.

"No, Alice as well."

"What do you mean by that?" said the Caterpillar, sternly. "Explain yourself."

"We're both playing the part of Alice, you see?"

"I don't see."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly." Samantha said with a scowl. "Not my fault your being deliberately obtuse."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, perplexed.

"Look it up on Google." Sam snapped.

"What's up with you?" Arel asked her.

"Oh, I've never liked worms."

"I'm NOT A WORM!" The caterpillar shouted.

"They're just so icky." The girl continued while the caterpillar began to splutter.

"Better get used to them if you want to visit Qo'nos with me." The holo-Arel said. "That's fine cuisine over there."

"You'd really take me to Qo'nos?" Sam asked, forgetting everything.

"Sure, but you'd better pack your own dinner. LOTS of worms on Qo'nos."

"EXCUSE ME, BUT I'M STILL HERE!" The caterpillar screamed.

"Keep your temper." Samantha told him.

The caterpillar began cursing. In Klingon.

"I think your engineer had some sense of humor at least." Sam commented.

"Sleeping Giant"

By
Captain Daren M'Kantu,
Commanding Officer,
USS Galaxy

Cameo appearance by:
Richard North,
Attaché Officer,
USS Galaxy

Moe Branson,
Shuttle Bay Chief
USS Galaxy

As the shuttle parted from the junction portal at the docking clamp on deck 129, Captain M'Kantu kept himself in a standing position behind Moe Branson. Making every attempt to keep his expression stoic, the Tanzanian Captain barely contained his excitement in check, even if the ship wasn't geared towards the ideals he had initially joined Starfleet for.

This was truly *his* ship now. Not a leftover remnant of half-hearted designs riddled with flaws, not knowing when the next technical error would arise.

No more prototype testing. Not on such a grand scale of the entire ship at once, anyhow.

Branson swept the shuttle underneath the massive saucer underplating as the glided along the glittering portals of the rim. It had been quite a while since Daren had even been outside his own ship looking in. It was so easy taking the blessed vessel for granted. The sheer size and immensity of the corridors within almost made one forget was a real ship.

He'd commanded and served on ships just as large, but to actually see it? It made everything seem so real.

Peeking in under the HUD manifold of the tiny pod, he felt the euphoria rising in his spinal cord, creeping along his neurons about as slowly as the Shuttle chief delivered the ceremonial tour of the Galaxy. Worker crews turned as they approached, waving in respect to Branson, who could be clearly seen against the large placid portal as the bright lights of the docking bay glared down upon them.

Flying under the Captain's Yacht, they flew along the rim of the phaser cannon, its yawning mouth cold and dark. Down the enormous strut they cruised and along the back of the great bird. No signs remained of the torn third nacelle. The new warp nacelles glowed a faint blue as the warming up of the coils had begun on his recall of the crews.

Down under the tail they went as Branson twisted the pod around to get a look at the underside. Daren couldn't discern where they were along the unending paneling devoid of markings, until they flew up along the deflector dish and out into the yawning space now uninhabited with the USS Miranda's departure for Earth.

Almost lazily the Shuttle chief twirled the shuttle upwards and around to come point blank with the USS Galaxy, it's majestic grace and prowess on display for all. The defector dish shrilled brilliant blues, casting fortuitous glows about like a great winking eye of a Fremen nature. Even in the 24th Century, the ancient author known as Frank Herbert still cast his influences on society.

They flew straight at the ship, the feel of its power thrumming from far out. Daren could only imagine the emotions lingering on the fringes of smaller ships that would eventually face this wondrous sight. He could see how many ship captains of the past would develop god-like complexes over it.

The bridge lights blinked beneath as they carried themselves past it and onwards until they came to a standstill. The shuttle began a descent downwards and back. To his left, leaning in somewhat, he could glimpse the dim lights of the saucer section's newly installed warp nacelles.

The Galaxy slept. A dragon slumbering until it was driven from its sleep to declare vengeful defense of its children.

The pod unexpectedly came to a jolt, the hold filling with a loud clamp and hiss.

"We've arrived, sir." Branson, powering down the control panels to bring the pod to a dim holding pattern, dutifully pivoted the pilot's chair to emerge ahead of the Captain, who nodded at the lieutenant's hesitation.

"After you, Chief." Daren nodded and stepped aside in the cramped unit to allow the passage of the Shuttle Chief, who nodded in acknowledgement.

"Aye, sir." Branson stepped limberly up to the rear hatchway and entered authorization codes. The computer hesitated as it verified, re-routed, verified, and confirmed the occupants of the shuttle.

The door slid aside upon confirmation.

"Captain on deck!" The shrill whistle of the Officer of the Deck blared in general quarters of an ancient tradition that harkened back to the sailing crews of over 500 years previous.

Stepping onto the grilled deck above the main shuttlebay, Daren M'Kantu found the actual reality of the changes didn't do the schematics justice. Gone were the pleasant beiges and colours of the psychological relaxation schemes, and in their place were the sharp greys and silvers of a time long past. The schematics only held this environment to be held in Starfleet restricted access sections, which he had noticed with chagrin, had increased since Havras.

"At ease." The guards holstered their phasers, but did not 'ease', though. Paranoia had resulted in a strengthening of military presences on the Galaxy. It was disconcerting, but they had to live with it. For now.

Daren noticed a Terran standing off to the side dressed in what could only be Federation Liaison Officer apparel.

"You must be Richard North." He'd reviewed the manifest prior to launch of the mission. Kylar Curran had requested accrued vacation time. It was unlike the Kelvan to take a holiday, but if it cleared up the emotional scourge that apparently haunted him, he would not argue the point.

Without waiting for an answer, the commanding officer of the Galaxy clasped him by the shoulder as they walked, security following closely behind. No one wanted another Savar incident.

"Walk with me while we inspect the ship, would you? We have much to discuss."

"The Grand Tour"

Ensign Saul Bental
Acting Tourist guide

Ensign Airaul Taern
Tactical Officer

Ensign William Warbeck
Tactical Officer

Ensign Miranda Sanchez
Medical Officer

Ensign Andrei Vronksy
Medical Officer

Ensign Lee Rowe
Counselor

* * * *

Saul Bental felt despair.

He was lying on his bed, eyes fixed on the display panel where the serious face of an Operations Ensign glanced back. He suspected she was the hybrid Bajoran who was with them on the Valkyrie, but wasn't sure.

"Why me?" he asked, tempted to just crawl back under the blanket and pretend that the Operations officer wasn't there. Would that be such a bad idea?

"As a relatively new officer, you can sympathize with their needs and explain things that you found curious or puzzling when you came on board, whereas someone who served on the Galaxy for a longer period wouldn't pay attention for such details because he or she are accustomed to the ship."

In other words, Saul thought, you're a newbie yourself so we don't mind giving you some extra work.

"But. I'm a very busy Intelligence officer! I don't have time for this. Isn't it part of your department's role, anyway?"

The Operations officer frowned. "It is a responsibility shared by all the departments, mister Bental, and your superior already gave her approval. Seems like you're not THAT busy."

Saul muttered a Dutch curse under his breath. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"No, Mister Bental. Report to Ten-Forward at Seven-hundred hours."

* * * Ten Forward, 7:00 * * *

A single, miserable Ensign stood next to the Ten forward lounge door. In his hands lay a PADD, and next to his commbadge a large name tag could be easily spotted. It said "Ensign Saul Bental, Tour guide."

A Security officer passed next to him, holding a breakfast tray in his hands. He SNORTED at Saul and the small group of newbies which slowly gathered around him.

This was going to be a bad day.

"Are everyone here?" Asked Saul. Of course, there was no possible way to get an answer for that question, and he was certainly not going to read names or anything. Saul had his limits; Reading names was one of them.

"All right. My name is Saul Bental. I serve on the Galaxy as an Intelligence officer for over four months now, and I would LOVE to show you around our lovely old lady."

Miranda Sanchez glanced around the small group, and then turned to Bental and studies him for a moment. The man didn’t want to be here, she could sense that, but he was putting on a pretty good act pretending he wanted to waste his time showing them around the ship, which Miranda wasn’t honestly sure if she wanted to do, but at the same time was quite curious about the vessal, though she would have preferred spending the time with people who wanted to be here. “I am Ensign Miranda Sanchez,” The half Betazoid woman stepped forward, a small smile laid on her lips, black eyes searching their tourist. “Thank you for taking your time to show us around the Galaxy, very kind of you.” Arms crossed behind her back, the Ensign commented softly, glancing back around the very small collected group of people.

Wil smiled as he looked around, looking like he always did off duty. There was no uniform, but instead a random tee shirt with something about saving monkeys on, as well as a faded pair of jeans. "Will Warbeck, tactical," he said quickly, looking at their guide. "Like she said...thanks for taking the time and all."

Lee chuckled slightly at Will's lack of enthusiasm, but admired his slight sense of humour. He had proven to be quite interesting so far.

"You two are welcome." Saul flashed a genuine smile this time at the two Ensigns, realizing there's a good chance the two of them were older than him.

"Lee Rowe, shrink and friend to far too many people," Lee added and straightened the collar of his Starfleet undershirt, he couldn't quite recall where he'd left his tunic, but he wasn't wearing it, though his commbadge was attached to his shirt, which suggested it might be in his office, or quarters, or the toilet, or anywhere aboard Galaxy or the Starbase.

"Many people already? Sounds like they're doing good work at teaching social networking at Starfleet shrink school." Saul replied.

Andrei Vrosnky chuckled, his arms folded as he looked around. Nice place...and nice of the Intell officer to show them around. "Doctor Andrei Vronsky, Russian Mafia..." he said, dead-pan, except for the small smile. Might as well try to lighten the atmosphere slightly.

It took a moment or two for the Auban to understand the Russian reference, but when it finally clicked Airaul Taern gave a chuckle, nodding with understanding. "Reassuring for a doctor..." he teased gently before looking to their guide. His fingertips briefly touched his chest before he pushed his hand away in a formal greeting derived from a prayer of his homeworld. "I am Airaul. Pleased to meet you..." his voice was nothing but polite, a sentiment followed through with the gentle bow of his head.

Saul cleared his throat. "All right then. Our tour begins here, at Ten Forward, a mix between a mess hall and a cafe, so to speak. Our new saucer is based on the ruins of the legendary Enterprise-D's saucer. In this very place, fleet-wide famous officers like Jean-Luc Picard, William Riker and Data spent their spare hours and ate their meals - or in Data's case, bothered others as they ate their meals..."

"Too bad we don't get them in the bargain. Some celebs would surely have made the meals more interesting," Andrei said, chuckling as he looked around again. Impressive. But Starships tended to be it.

"Celebs?" Airaul smiled warmly as he took a deep breath, shaking his head. "I always found it strange, that a man could be made a hero simply for doing his job..." he frowned a little, looking around. "However, it is nice to have a feeling of...legacy." He smiled warmly, nodding with agreement to the doctor.

"Which one of them stained the carpeting?" Lee asked with a sly grin nodding in the direction of a small red stain on the blue carpet.

"That's a new one, I'm afraid, and thank goodness Guinan is not running this joint anymore, otherwise there would be an officer tossed out of the airlock." Saul answered with a grin.

Sanchez glanced around Ten forward. It was large, and well decorated. Larger than the Ireland, and also much nicer, she found the colors and décor of the place very interesting. Being a woman of art, she was quite impressed. Interested in seeing more of the ship, she turned back to her tour guide, after flashing a few nods at some passing by crewmembers, the atmosphere of the place was light, good hearted.

"Our next stop is sickbay" Saul stated after finishing his little ten-forward speech, "A place most of us are trying to avoid - but not because of the excellent medical staff." He added, grinning at Doctor Sanchez. "If you'll kindly follow me..."

Smiling, “Of course not, Mr. Bental.” The doctor commented, sending a smile at the other medical officer with them as she followed the group out into the corridor and towards sickbay. Oh course, the doctor had already seen the sickbay, it had been her one of her first stops when she arrived, what doctor wouldn’t make that their first stop? she wondered.

"Would this be one of your usual duties, Saul?" Airaul asked their guide curiously, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched the man with interest.

"Actually no." Saul told the Tactical officer as they strode toward the Turbolift. "We get a batch of new officers only every couple of months. I assume the operations department asks for a volunteer each time, and this one... well, I was volunteered. Volunteered, I mean." Saul hurried to correct himself. Giving the impression that he would rather be spotting Guinan's carpets than showing a group of green Ensigns around wouldn't help him with the latter.

Airaul gave a warm, genuine laugh as he clapped a hand down onto the man's shoulder in a heartily and friendly manner. "The short straw, as they say?" Airaul grinned, squeezing the shoulder before letting his hand drop with a wink. "At least you weren't sent to Russia..." He teased, glancing to Doctor Vronsky with a playful smile as he referenced a film he'd once seen where an officer was handed such a punishment.

"From Russia...with love..." Will sang softly, giggling as he placed himself close to Airaul and Andrei. "Bring the vodka! Baburska!"

"Baburska this, English..." Andrei said, giving the other man a two-fingered salut with a warm laugh. "And shove it up where the sun don't shine..." he looked at Airaul, arching a brow playfully. "And you...be careful, before you wake up in the bottom of the ocean wearing a pair of cement shoes, courtesy of Mother Russia..." he did add a heavier accent when he said it, trying to keep himself from laughing. He had dreaded this...but apparently, the people on this tour were a lot funnier than he had ever anticipated.

Sanchez smiled at the gentlemen as she they laughed together, she did not quite understand their jokes, and songs, but she still smiled with them...

After a few minutes, they arrived at sickbay. The doctors and nurses within seemed troubled by the sudden surge of visitors, but once they realized it wasn't some kind of medical emergency, they quietly continued their chores.

"Our Medical complex is actually divided into several smaller sections." Saul told them. "You can see here ward one, and the ICU is over there. The bio beds over here." He gestured at a bio-bed "Are state-of-the-art, and saved a life or two over the years. Sickbay is also designed to handle medical emergencies involving many injured men and causalities. This was put to the test recently, during the battle of Havras…"

Saul's speech faded, as he reflected on the Intelligence personnel which were killed or badly hurt when the Intelligence CIC suffered from a direct hit during the battle. He, comfortably enough, was on the bridge. Come to think about it, Commander Henderson's decision most likely saved his life.

Dr. Fienberg approached them, giving a short explanation of his own, and unknowingly giving Saul a chance to get himself back together.

Sanchez could sense the change in Saul’s mood, and smirked in his direction, then turned to say hello to her Chief and see how things were going in Sickbay. Sickbay was the first place she had came to when she arrived on the Galaxy, and she was sure she would send much time in here doing her duties. She had found out she was placed on the gamma shift, putting her in sickbay in the late hours, normally when it was quite, but when one saw either serious cuts and wounds from people being tired and not paying attention, or the simple stuff, and officers wanted an excuse to get away from their post and talk with whomever was in sickbay at the moment.

"Wonder how long it will be before I do something stupid and end up here..." Will mused, chuckling to himself. Yes, as long as they didn't lock him in a small room, he'd live.

"I'd say you're well on your way already," Andrei said teasingly, chuckling warmly. He had to admit, he liked this sickbay. All big and light...a perfect place to work. He couldn't recall the last time he had seen anything this impressive. Well, except when he got onboard, since this was the first place he had gone to.

"OK. Now we're going to take a dive to the Stardrive section, where the Main Engineering awaits us."

As the group strode into the corridors again, Saul turned his head toward them.

"Say, did you guys ask to be assigned to the Galaxy, or just given the position?"

“The request came to me, and I must say I was a little reluctant about taking the transfer, but I am enjoying things so far... The Galaxy is quite different from the Ireland, which is the ship I come from of course.” Her arms had crossed over her chest, as she continued on with the group. The tour wasn’t such a bad idea, exploring certainly wouldn’t have been quite as intriguing as it was with this group of officers.

"I was given it...after begging for a transfer," Will said with a grin, laughing warmly. "I had to sweet-talk two JAG officers in a mess hall in order to get the Galaxy put up on the list...thank heavens that one was Dutch. I could talk her over easily enough, without the other one understanding what hit her."

"Dutch, eh? Can't hear it by the accent." Saul told Will, in Dutch.

Will smiled to him, chuckling. "Half Dutch, actually. Mother side...grew up in Manchester and Newcastle though. And my Dutch isn't exactly perfect." He shrugged, before switching back to English. "It's a free language on the list, when your parents are from different countries. Or worlds."

"I have found this Federation Standard rather comfortable...but some parts tricky." Airaul confessed with a weak smile. "So I apologize ahead of time if make a mistake. I was just sent here. Whether it was random or not, I'm not sure....but it certainly seems a very big ship."

"Starfleet seem to like to throw counselors in at the deep-end," Lee added. "1200 people certainly seem quite deep."

"You have my sympathies," Airaul teased with a good natured smile before moving up to their guide with a gentle smile of concern. He leant in a little closer to Saul, lowering his voice as the others chattered. "Are you alright? I have heard that Sickbay can be enough to turn the stomach of even the strongest men..." he whispered. Yes, he had heard of fears and such...people reluctant to go. It had never really occurred on his homeworld, but that could easily have been as it was mostly the priests and initiates who gave medical care, and no one was trusted as much as they were. Still, the change in Saul's voice and body language, even for a moment, had worried him. Perhaps it was the initiate still inside him, but...he was concerned enough to ask if he was okay. If he was told to shove off, fair enough, but it was worth it to check on the other man...he'd been accustomed to helping soldiers with their fears for years....even if they weren't about 'Sickbay'.

"I'm fine, thanks for your concern." Saul told the Auban officer quietly. "It's just that my department suffered heavy losses during the last battle, and I never realized some of them must've died in that very ward, until I stepped in. I don't feel much of a connection to my department - yet - but it still makes you miss a heartbeat or two. Never mind."

Airaul gave a small but warm smile, gently patting his elbow. "I understand completely." He discretely slowed his step to fall back to walk behind him with the others.

Saul raised his voice again. "As I said, next stop is main Engineering. Just to throw some random spooky numbers at you all, our Cocharne warp core can make the old lady accelerate to the dazzling speed of warp 9.9--"

* * *

Eventually, they reached their last stop. The USS Galaxy's bridge. The small group entered the ship's nerve center quietly, as though they were walking into a solitary shrine. The Alpha shift officers on the bridge worked together like a single oiled machine, their hushed voices barely carried over the sound of computer chirps and the constant humming of the engine many decks below.

All of them, Saul included, gazed at the starfield ahead, watching the bright streaks which were the stars as they went by. Captain M'Kantu, sitting on his throne, glanced at Saul and nodded approvingly.

"I could tell you about the role of each console and station." Saul began, eyes still fixed on the view port instead of on his audience. "I could tell you about how bridge shifts are arranged, about how many great deeds were done by the officers manning this very bridge on the Enterprise-D or on the Galaxy. All of that, you can read in some manual or hear about while conversing with your fellow officers. There's one thing you can only read here, though."

Saul gestured with his hand toward a small golden plaque. He asked Doctor Sanchez to read it aloud.

"For those with wings, fly to your dreams.", said Sanchez, a small smile to her lips. She was a woman who loved literature, and what she read would make any officer appreciate literature.

"For those with wings, fly to your dreams." Saul repeated, then moved his hand as though trying to grab the entire bridge. "This is your bird, ladies and gentlemen, these are your wings. Use them. I've been Saul Bental, thank you for your attention, feel free to talk to me or any of the other officers in the ship if you have any further questions - and I wish you behatzlaha during your time onboard."

Airaul grinned, clapping with an enthusiastic whistle. "Thank you very much, Sir, I think you have found a new talent...someone get that man a drink!"

The entire Alpha ship crew, minus the Captain, glared at the Ensign. Saul's expression was in the middle of turning into a frown but then a thought occurred to him. The Tactical officer didn't make to mock him, or the ideals he was referring to. They were just a bunch of young officers, taking everything lightly – much lightly than he did.

Considering the fact that most of them were actually older than him, this was quite alarming. He forced a smile, and bowed toward the Tactical officer.

Sanchez thanked Saul for his time, and showing herself and the others around the ship. Taking a few moments to glance around the bridge one last time, she smiled to say her goodbyes to everyone, before she dismissed herself to take care of other matters at hand.

Eventually, the group scattered. Only Saul remained, gazing ahead for a little while longer.

Closing his eyes, he imagined the old lady cruising through space in the dazzling speed of Warp 9.9, with a pair of wings instead of nacelles.

"Commitment"

Nara
Ella

*takes place before the staff meeting

****

Nara stared. Her face wrinkled in concentration and disgust. She admitted, she came to help with the refit when it was about complete, but she figured that was enough to get acquainted with the upgraded systems. Problem was, she mainly worked on odds and ends, finishing up projects giving the others a rest. She had yet to have authorization. Until now. She keyed in her codes again. The same she's had before. She glared and almost growled at the blinking red "ACCESS DENIED." This was the first time she worked her regular shift as well. She was simply helping before. Now she was fully on duty and the bloody computer wouldn't let her work.

She felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned around to see Ella Grey standing there, computer PADD in hand. *NEED SOME HELP?*

Nara looked at the woman and read the PADD. She stood for a moment looking at it, slightly thrown off. She hadn't really encountered this woman before, but had heard of her. Nara simply nodded before pointing to the console. Before it could be assumed that Nara assumed the woman couldn't hear, she spoke as she glared at the console, "This blasted system won't accept my codes." She looked at Ella, "Did they change our codes and I missed the message?"

Ella looked at the panel thoughtfully before keying in a code that immediately had the computer chirping ACCESS GRANTED. She turned and gave the other engineer a sympathetic look. *YOU FORGOT ONE* she typed. *DONT WORRY, IT'S LATE. HAPPENS TO ME ALL THE TIME.*

Nara smiled feeling stupid. She looked at the screen. She had thought she was used to this late shift, but she had to get used to it again. "Guess I have to get used to this shift."

Her bed had been uncomfortable and she couldn't sleep, that's why she was early for her shift, but Ella merely typed in *IT TAKES AWHILE BUT I'VE ALWAYS BEEN AN EARLY BIRD*

Nara looked at Ella. She nodded, "I'm more of a night owl, but definitely not a morning person. Especially if morning is natural sleeping time."

*TO EACH HIS OWN, I GUESS. I'M ELLA.*

"I'm Nara."

Ella studied the woman carefully before asking her next question. *ARE YOU BETAZOID?*

"Part and only by blood. I claim Sakarian as my heritage." Nara wondered how she would had guessed. Perhaps she looked over her record.

Just her luck, Ella thought, making sure to keep her emotions in check. *A LUCKY GUESS, NARA. THERE'S A HIGH PERCENTAGE OF BETAZOIDS IN ENGINEERING. WHAT IS A SAKARIAN?*

Nara figured as much. "We're pretty much an epidemic, huh." She smiled at her own lame joke. "I belong to the planet Sakaria." Nara wasn't sure how to explain what a Sakarian was. It would take a culture lesson.

Ella made mouthed an 'ah, I understand' at the woman. She agreed with the epidemic statement but Laura had trained her with some manners at least so she didn't say so.

Nara smiled.

Since she felt slightly guilty for automatically placing this woman in the 'damned Betazoids' category in her head, Ella smiled back. *I'M FROM CALIFORNIA ON EARTH. WE'RE AN INTERESTING BUNCH, I'LL ADMIT. *

Nara thought back. "Warm and sunny."

Ella felt an actual sting of homesickness for the first time in years. Life was simple when it was being handed to you, she guessed, and the only decisions that you had to make concerned your wardrobe. But that wasn't completely it. She missed the ocean and Laura and, lord help her, even her snobby parents. *DO YOU MISS YOUR SAKARIA?*

Nara sighed, "Yes. But I made a commitment here, so I plan on being completely here as long as I need to."

Ella thought of her own commitment, her own plans and sighed. She really needed to speak to a doctor soon. Compromise, she thought with some amount of disgust. Why did that always mean that *she* had to give in. *I FIND FEW OFFICERS THESE DAYS WITH AN ACTUAL COMMITMENT TO STARFLEET* Herself included.

Nara nodded. She had several classmates in the Academy--not to mention her roommate--who seemed to not really care. "I didn't understand why anyone would pursue such a life-consuming career and not have a passion for it. Then I learned from my roommate that she was pressured by her parents. It wasn't anything she said or they said. It was just it seemed expected of her. I admit, part of why I joined was to be in my father's footsteps, but if there was any part of me that thought I would regret it, I wouldn't had. There's a war I could be fighting right now." Nara smiled, "Engineering is a nice change of pace. Works my brain out." She looked at the console and actually did feel very happy she got to do this. Engineering was something she could do and most of the time it wasn't about life or death. Most of the time, it wasn't near as much pressure as leading a whole battalion into a war ground knowing a least a few of them would be killed or injured. At least not in her lowly ensign status. Ella here was an Assistant Chief. That had to hold a lot of pressure.

*I'D ALWAYS WANTED TO BE AN ENGINEER.* Ella wrote. *MY PARENTS WANTED ME TO BE A SINGER. IT WAS QUITE A SHOCK TO THEM WHEN I FINALLY JOINED STARFLEET* She wondered if her father still had that look of... contempt he'd had when he had first hear the news. *WAR?*

Nara looked at Ella. Singer to Engineer. Interesting. She almost missed the last word. "Sakaria has been in a civil war for awhile. We're in peace talks, but it seems like a standstill."

*SORRY TO HEAR. DO YOU MIND IF I ASK, WHAT FOR? WHAT IS THE WAR OVER?*

Nara sighed, "Power." She rolled her eyes thinking of the idiocy, "As usual with wars."

Ella nodded but didn't really know what else to say. *WELL, IF YOU NEED ANYTHING, DON'T FORGET TO ASK, NARA. NICE MEETING YOU.*

Nara nodded and turned back to her station.

"Introspection"

By
Captain Daren M'Kantu,
Commanding Officer,
USS Galaxy

Consular Attaché Richard North
Diplomatic Officer
USS Galaxy

****

Deck 4
Shuttlepod Access Portal 2
Gantry

"Walk with me while we inspect the ship, would you? We have much to discuss." The dark-skinned Captain moved out onto the gantry above the Main shuttlebay housed below. It had been expanded to accommodate many more shuttles, and at this time, also contained a vast array of cargo and equipment destined for installation in both the ship and their endpoint of Trill.

"Legate Curran will not be able to introduce you to your new position, so I find the task falls upon me to accommodate any questions or concerns you may have about your position here on the Galaxy." Pausing in speech, the posturing human passed through the archway into the main corridors beyond that gave more variety of access to the ship.

"Well, Captain, I really don't have many questions. I'm familiar with various aspects of starship operations and diplomacy. That's what eleven years of Starfleet Service, and six years in the Senate gets you. I've heard a lot of about the ship. Fascinating adventures your crew has had." North paused to tug at his uniform. "Uniforms feel just as constricting as always. Is the uniform really quiet necessary, Captain?" North felt more at home in formal diplomatic attire than the uniform he was wearing.

"This is a predominantly Starfleet vessel, Mr. North, not a civilian posting. It is expected to be in uniform at all times when required. Will that be a problem?" The tone and pitched declared that it should *not* be a problem, whether the Liaison Officer thought of such or not.

"No, Sir. Not really. It's just that after almost eight years of being out of a uniform, it feels a bit odd. I'm more used to spending my working days in three piece suits and wearing a tuxedo at night, as opposed to a uniform." North brushed off the left shoulder of his uniform. "I've noticed that on the duty roster that I'm 'on call'...what exactly does that entail?"

As they turned the corridor to fall amidst work crews toiling amongst a rush of scattered paneling and conduits, the pair of security officers who had been silently following behind rushed to flank the two officers in the event of an ambush. M'Kantu, annoyed at the thought of an ambush in drydock, angrily waved them off. "Stand aside!" The two guards, unsure of themselves, hesitated as if by doing so, they would be in dereliction of their duties as mandated by new Starfleet policy.

"I'm sure we can arrange to have the two of you re-assigned to the waste management ducts, where you'll find many an unpleasant and undesired visitor to apprehend any way you see fit." The work crews had stopped momentarily at the distraction, but a glare from M'Kantu sent them back scurrying. When he had returned his gaze to the two security officers, they had fallen back into position behind them, but hands on phasers. This paranoia was ridiculous.

"You won't find any functions of the sort you are accustomed to on this ship, but you may be privileged to attend one in the event of diplomatic contact off-world. How did you come to subscribe to the Liaison Corps if this was your prior discourse, Mr. North?" Coming to a turbolift, all four slipped in undeterred. Daren called out Main Engineering as their first destination.

"It was a campaign promise, Captain. I said that if I was elected, I would serve six years as a Senator in the United Federation of Planets Senate, then I would do two years in the Diplomatic Corps before running again. I was supposed to get an Ambassador position, but, something must have gotten screwed up somewhere..." North leaned against the back wall of the turbolift, "Sir, have you...never heard of me before? Not to sound arrogant or anything..."

M'Kantu pulled himself up even more upright than he had before, not that you wouldn't have noticed the perfect posture previously, but this Federation Officer had a touch of arrogance he was sure he felt emanating from him, regardless of the man's pleading otherwise. Was this in the Diplomatic Corps curriculum? He had thought such righteous belief to power had been weaned with the restructuring of the Corps and Starfleet several years previous.

"No, I cannot say that I have, Mr. North. There must have been nothing of paramount significance to come from the Senate, it would seem." He didn’t let the Senator respond to the implied insult that foretold a battle of wills the Federation officer could not possibly win. M'Kantu had been dealing with Curran for a year now; nothing could attain that level of contest.

"You are in fact an Ambassador on this tour in the event we encounter any First Contact situations, or events that could lead to Federation involvement. The Galaxy may be designed primarily for naval and military personnel, but exploration and civilian situations fall under your banner now, unless any personnel feel you are remiss in your duties, at which time I am well within my rights to take command of the situation. I will exercise that option if I feel it is valid, as well. Do not feel you can cross me unless you yourself have a valid reason to do so.

"Now, as to your on-call duties, you have been activated as the primary Liaison contact on the Galaxy until Legate Curran returns from personal leave. I will assist you as you need it, but this also brings us to the next important step in the processing of your duties this mission." The turbolift doors parted as they reached Deck 36.

***

Deck 36
Main Engineering

"Sir, I'm not referring to my accomplishments in the Senate. Surely you must have heard of the Lexington Minutemen Strike Team? It's in my service jacket? As far as my crossing you, Sir...no, that's not going to happen. Senators have more...tact than that. I'm here to assist you in anyway I can in regards to diplomacy. Am to understand that I am also liaison between the civilian population of this starship and yourself, Sir? Or have I misinterpreted something?"

Daren relaxed at the outset of the man's relinquishment of struggle between the two. "No, I would say you have not. You are indeed a liaison between the civilians and any Starfleet officer on this ship." He stopped just shy of Engineering's main bulkhead. "I have not heard of the Strikemen, but I shall endeavor to educate myself on them." He propped his chin up and took a silent breath as he prepared to share the obligations of what policies they were both bound to by oath.

"Your primary duties on this starship, Mr. North, are to address the needs of the civilian population in all manners legal and personal. So long as it has no bearing on Starfleet issues, none my staff shall interfere. The moment a Starfleet officer is implicated in any bearings though, Commander Corgan is to be informed and a joint investigation is to take place. You also have justification over questioning Starfleet decisions on this ship if they have an effect on Federation issues. If you find this to be the case, bring it to me. I won't have it any other way."

"Yes, Sir. I shall endeavour to do my best. I don't believe I have met Commander Corgan, although I have met several of your officers all ready. Nice people. Are you a fan of hockey, Sir?"

"We shall enough time for niceties at a later, date, Mr. North. For now, we have responsibilities to adhere to on this ship. Make it a point to visit with each senior staff member as soon as you are able. It'll go a long way towards having trust instilled in your position." Curran's arrogance and superior attitude had done little to uphold the sanctity of the newly created positions on the 'fleet assignments.

The doors parted to Engineering as M'Kantu depressed the paneling.

"Captain on the Deck!" All crews immediately flew to their feet at the unannounced visit, some lagging as they had been caught in uncompromising positions. There were likely a few sore noggins.

He leaned slightly to North's left and passed on a low key tone that only the Liaison officer could hear. "Here will be your opportunity to meet and assess the Engineering department lead personnel."

With that, he put his business façade back on. "Where might I find Commander Suder or Lieutenant O'Shea?"

"Reflections After Bajor"

by
Ensign Tarin Iniara,
Operations,
USS Galaxy-A

Soundtrack: "Stone in My Shoe" by the Dirt Surfers

She couldn't help thinking it had been a mistake. Bajor was home, wasn't it? She had spent nearly half of her life there; it made sense to think of it as home. Then why did returning there feel so wrong?

A planet that held so many bad memories, memories best drowned in the sands of time, couldn't possibly be a proper home. But where else could she go? Two decades on Bajor have left a jagged black streak across her life, easily brushing away memories of Betazed, long since faded and grey. Now there was nothing left.

Alone in her quarters with only the stars as her witness, it is these thoughts that come to her in the darkness.

And so she holds the family portrait tightly in her hands. She is young again, barely an adult. Flame-colored hair cascades down her thin form, framing flawless skin and a face that has known no pain, no suffering.

She has two siblings. Both will take to the stars at an early age. Her sister will rise through the ranks, commanding her own starship, curing innumerable diseases and saving many races from devastation along the way. Her brother will become a skilled negotiator, forging treaties between warring parties and representing his own people in at least fifteen first contact situations. None of this interests her.

She attends a university. There she meets a man who will mean more than the world to her, but is known to her simply as Imzadi. She marries him in a beautiful celebration. Her mother smiles proudly, tears of joy in her eyes.

Soon her father returns from abroad. He is changed: quiet, withdrawn. To her none of this matters; for most importantly, he is alive. Her family is whole once more.

She begins to compose. The music of so many other worlds calls to her. She combines them into sounds known by many, and yet entirely new.

Soon the sound of young voices can be heard through the household. She continues to make music. The delicate strands of her melodies entwine with the laughter of children-- her own flesh and blood-- at play.

Her husband teaches; his influence extends well past the classroom, helping to shape his students' lives in ways he will never realize. Like him she grows older, yet still their bond remains strong. The passage of time has done nothing to dull her spirit, and her eyes still dance with a mischievous light.

Her children grow, and in time they will have children of their own. Her youngest grows into a talented vocalist, supported by her parents' love and her mother's timeless melodies. Together they will travel through the stars, embraced and revered by many cultures. To her though, fame means nothing; happiness is all that matters.

Her parents pass within weeks of each other, both having led full, joyous lives. She does not weep at their passing. Soon after, her sister returns home in a sterile silver tube, victim of an accident which could have been prevented. The passing of her younger sibling saddens her, but again she sheds no tears.

Autumn comes. Once more the household is filled with the boisterous laughter of children. By now the offspring bear almost no mark of their Bajoran heritage, small though that part may be. Her husband has retired, and together they spend their days caring for this new generation. Soon even he too will pass on, always remembered, never fading from her memory.

Now she is old, and wise beyond her years. Her body has begun to fail yet her mind is as sharp as ever. She relaxes, old bones held by a chair that conforms to every detail of her ancient body. Sunlight warms her face and a light wind teases wisps of her hair, playing with the fiery strands the way it has always done. She has buried a husband, parents, siblings, children, grandchildren, and countless others along the way.

She reflects back on her life, pleased to find she has lived just how she wanted. The bustle of younger generations surrounds her, just as it has always been. She closes her eyes and smiles to herself, feeling the warmth spread throughout her body. And at last she thinks to herself, It is time to go.

But there is nowhere to go.

Callused hands that have shed far too much blood clutch a small framed picture to her chest. Eyes squeezed tight against the outside world have long ago lost their sparkle. This is all I have left, she realizes. Distant memories and a life lived completely alone.

She tries not to dwell on this. But in the darkness, where none but the stars are present to judge her weakness, she cannot stop the tears. She has murdered the girl called Iniara Sola, wiped that carefree spirit completely from existence, and replaced her with the hollow shell known as Tarin Iniara.

And she cannot help but feel, This is not how it should have been.

"Lily Squad's Inception"

Lieutenant J.G. Cora Dobryin
Chief of Intelligence

Ensign Saul Bental
Intelligence Officer

"This does not necesserily mean that the Gorn have anything to do with the Hydrans. And there's no hard evidence that these Plasma Torpedos were manufactured by the Gorn." Saul told DiMillo. The two of them were reading through a summary of several messages intercepted by SFI, and the opinions of the analysts back on Earth.

DiMillo was about to explain his points further when the Galaxy's chief of Intelligence emerged into the Intelligence CIC.

"Ensign Bental," Cora said. She didn't need to add anything. Saul straightened up and sent a glance in DiMillo's direction.

"Go ahead, I'll keep working on it.", Paulo said. Saul gave him a wry salute, and jogged after their commander. The two of them entered Cora's office, and as always Saul sprawled comfortably on the available chair.

Before Cora took a seat behind her desk she inquired, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Elaysian Berryjuice would be excellent, thank you.", said the junior Intelligence officer, examinning the office as he did during his last visit.

It had been a rough...no make that very rough shoreleave or better yet non-exsistent shoreleave for Cora. She had a feeling things weren't going to get any smoother now that she'd returned to her Intelligence duties. A good half of her morning, already, had been wasted on sifting through data from SFI and other various sources. Some of it was credible while the rest just proved to be a major expediture of time and energy. "I've asked you in here for several reasons," Dobryin finally began. "There's a project I'd like you to head and there are some changes to the department we need to discuss."

Saul put down his drink on the desk, and leaned forward. The entire calm appearence was dropped in favour of tense concentration. "Sounds interesting."

"I'd watch what you wish for," she smiled, "It usually has a habit of being more than you barrgained for."

"Oh, I know that." Saul smirked. It was a lesson every merchant and every Intel. cadet learnt early in their careers.

Cora continued, "I'll get right to it. There's a concept I've been contemplating for sometime and the approval to see if its works has finally come through. I'd like you to head up the Secondary Intel team. Since we don't work normal shift rotations like other departments I wanted a good systems of checks and balances."

Saul's brow arched, with surprise soon replaced by pleasure and satisfaction. Ever since he graduates from the academy, he was looking for a promotion. Excellent performance or not, he was a grunt on both the special observations mission and on his last role as an Intelligence analyst back at SFI HQ.

He knew very well that he gave up the position of Chief Intelligence officer on a lesser vessel in favour for being assigned to this one - for his own reasons - but he anticipated a promotion nevertheless, being the ambitious person that he was.

And it finally came.

"I'll do my best to prove myself fit for this duty." Saul nodded at his commander. "Are there any specific roles this secondary unit is supposed to do, or is it a 'second shift', so to speak?"

"As you know we don't work the typical shift rotation other departments do. The Secondary unit will act as both backup and additional eyes for the Primary unit In the case of more than one hot item to study we can better divide our resources. First task I want you to work on an independant study of the events at Havras as they relate to finding a path to learn more about our enemy there. I don't want to stumble into our next encounter blind because SF Command refuses to acknowledge a potential powder keg in progress. Consider this part of an ongoing study for now. As soon as we have our new mission orders I'll be adding another coal to the fire."

"The more the merrier." Saul told her with a grin. "There are some leads I'm certainly going to pursue about the Havras study. Who will be working with me?" , he inquired furthermore.

"That one of your first duties. You get to pick the team and I'll give it my final approval or suggest alternates if needed." At least this allowed her to take her mind off that awful training mission disaster.

Saul nodded. "I'll sleep over it and get back to you with an answer about that tomorrow. How many people am I going to be given?"

Cora nodded, "Good. I'll await your answer on that one. You'll have two members of the department assigned to the Secondary team other than yourself."

"That's good." Saul replied. "Umm... is the Havras study the project you mention earlier?"

Cora smiled, "Only starts with Havras. I want you to expand beyond that where these two species are concerned. If we're missing I key something someplace I want to know it before we're too late."

"It does feel like there's something we don't see there." Saul muttered, thoughtful. "Guess we'll just have to dig in."

He took a quick sip from his glass, then seemed to recall something. "Completely slipped my mind, ma'am... mind if I ask how was special forces training back on Earth?"

That earned Saul a look of total disgust and deep sigh of frustration. "I have a feeling its not over yet. Worst."

"That bad?" Saul asked simpathetically. "What do you mean 'Not over yet'? You're here, no?"

"First time I've ever seen hazing go to the point of violating several regulations. Believe me I wasn't looking for that training to be easy but this was...oh I don't even know how to put it into words."

Saul frowned. "We had several survival serieses during intel trainning back on the Academy, but even though it was hard I always felt secure knowing that those who run the trainning are skilled professionals who know very well what are the borders and regulations. Did you tell Commander Corgan your opinion about the trainning?"

"Oh he knows and I intend to talk to him in more detail about it as soon asI get a chance. All of us including the Commander when the incident that broke the camel's back occurred. Right then and there Corgan pulled us out. Told us to pack our things and we left before we were offically scheduled to. Yes normally they know what they can get away with and not too severely hurt or kill trainees with..this time that line was crossed and the Commander made his decision to ensure our safety." Cora's anger and frustration at the whole ordeal showed.

"Just what I would expect from a good commanding officer." Saul told her sternly. Then, he tried to lighten the mood up. "I can imagine you guys packing your bags and some drill instructor with funny hat shouting that 'this isn't a luxury vacation on Risa and you bunch of pathetic maggots or whatever can't just take your stuff and run!!'... well, that kind of response sure put them in place!"

Cora nodded yet her mood clearly indicated there was nothing funny about the whole situation. "Yeah he did the right thing. I'm glad Corgan chose that path. It was good to get out of there."

Saul decided to say something that might cross an unseen borderline. "My mother once told me, after a misadventure, that if you're glad you got out of someplace, it's a sign you shouldn't have been there in the first place. Why did you choose to go to the trainning anyway? It wasn't mandatory."

"None of us should have been there. While it wasn't mandatory for me I figured it would be beneficial in the wake of Havras and other things."

"I hope it won't be used."

Cora nodded. "If there's nothing else... dismissed."

Saul was half-way standing up when he recalled something. "One last question ma'am... if I may speak freely."

"Go ahead."

"About Ensign DiMillo... how come Starfleet Intelligence agreed to take the man back, after he was convicted and spent months in a penal colony?"

"Someone pulled strings and I won't have anyone talking about him like that. Things happend and he's paid his dues. He's in this department and we'll treat him as a member of it," Cora knew that discussion was coming but wanted to make her stand clear.

"Yes ma'am." Saul straightened up. He was sure Cora would keep his question between the two of them, as neither had an interest in Saul's opinion about the new-old department member. "And Saul - you will need a name." Saul was with his back to her, but she could still sense a grin. "For the secondary team? I have one already, Lily squad." "Lily squad?" Saul couldn't see Cora as well, but the raised brow was visible through her tone. He chuckled quietly, not explainning his odd choice for a name before leaving the scene.

"2,000 Light Years Away" - Part 8: "Can There Be No Peace For Me?"

Commander Cassius Henderson,
Commanding Officer, USS Valkyrie

Pikarr Rowyn,
Baker, Ilnarin Township

Lieutenant Gherin Kas,
Chief of Security, Ilnaroal Dig Site

somewhat authorized mention of...
Lieutenant JG Doctor Klaus Fienberg, CMO
Ensign Tarin Iniara, Ops Manager
Ensign Sh'laran, Flight Controller
Ensign Rob Haverlock, Tactical

Soundtrack: The Ataris "Heaven Is Falling"

****

Captain's Ready Room,
Deck 1,
USS Valkyrie

"Captain's Log, Day 6. We arrived in orbit over Bajor five days ago and have spent the time since then searching the security records on Deep Space Nine and Bajor for trace of R... Damn it. Lieutenant Pennington. I'll have to edit that out... And that... ... ... So far, we've found little trace, so I've granted Ensigns Miramon and Bental a few days leave. Considering that we're officially all on leave, it's the least I can do."

Cassius Henderson sat in the cramped ready room of the Defiant-Class starship, sitting behind his desk, with his head in his hands. Over the previous couple of days, he'd gone from optimstic to worried to seriously not knowing what to do.

"Besides, it keeps another two members of the crew too busy to notice that I haven't got a clue where to go from here. I... I think I didn't plan this out well enough. I planned it out to DS9, and now that we're here... I'm not really sure where to go..."

He looked across the room at the replicated painting of Sir Winston Churchill that he kept on the wall. The old man's gruff face stared back at him, but offered only the answer that he always did.

"Churchill once said, 'It is a mistake to try to look too far ahead. The chain of destiny can only be grasped one link at a time.' I suppose the answer will present itself when it sees fit. For now, I'll have to keep searching."

He had no idea how right he was.

****

Ilnarin Township,
Bajor,
Takaras Province

"Good morning, Rowyn," Gherin Kas said, standing at her bread stand at the same time of day that he always did. Each day it became harder for Pikarr Rowyn to deal with his quiet attention to her. He'd never outright said that he liked her, but the intention was there, all the same. Her last relationship had ended disastrously, and she probably wasn't exactly thought fondly of on the ship she had worked on with her... other.

"Is it?" she forced a smile, "Seems a little gloomy to me. Your usual?" Kas was nice enough, and had of course been nothing but kind to her. Still, she knew, deep down inside that she wasn't ready to move on. That and she didn't want another military officer.

"Of course!" he smiled back, far more genuine. It was impossible not to encourage the fresh faced youth. He was probably several years younger than her, but he reminded her of the last guy, albeit a bit younger. Unflappable, loyal to a fault, and that kind of thing. It had been attractive in the last guy, and was attractive in Kas. But she knew, no matter how many times he'd taken her out to dinner, that she wasn't ready to move on...

She knelt down behind the bread stand and began to assemble to spiced bread and sauce. "So... How are thing at dig site? Proceding according to schedule," she swiftly tried to shift the topic away from herself. There was only so much she was willing to admit, and the same conversations were getting tired.

"More or less. Doctor Arkolis fell into one of the pits the other day and broke his hip, so things have naturally slowed down without his guidance. I thank the Prophets that he's not hurt more seriously. He's truly incredible. The conclusions he can come to about our past, just by looking at a few bones or fragments of pottery..." Gherin Kas said, a faraway look in his eyes. He loved his people, and his job as Chief of Security at the archaeological dig gave him a chance to serve and to learn. "To lose a man like him, would set the Bajoran Historic Effort back by months, if not years."

"I..." Rowyn began to reply, but was cut off by what she heard from across the street.

It was at that moment, that the transporter beams solidified into beings, and the beings opened fire into the crowded streets of Ilnarin Township.

****

Bridge,
Deck 1,
USS Valkyrie

"Sir, look at this," Tarin Iniara said, seated at the operations console. She was monitoring the sensors, keeping an eye on starship traffic in the Bajoran system. Klaus Fienberg, back from his own leave on DS9, was pulling a shift in command while Henderson pondered their next move.

"Ensigh Tarin, what is it that you want me to look at, exactly?" Fienberg replied, wishing that he was back in sickbay and desiring not to respond to her request. However, he knew his job, and rose to walk over to her station. Leaning over her shoulder, he looked at the report she was pointing at. "So? I am a doctor, not a mind reader, Frauline Tarin."

"This ship, here," she enlarged a section of the grid, "Its profile's larger that its registration information suggests. I'm also reading more energy emanating from its engines than should be possible for an Engramon-Class Cargo Hauler."

"Hurmmm... Perhaps Commander Henderson should be notified," Fienberg said. He didn't wait for a responce from Iniara, as the thought had been purely rhetorical. Turning away from the Ops console, he crossed back to the command chair and tapped his commbadge. "Commander Henderson to the brige, we have something on sensors that you should see."

[Aye, Klaus. I'm on my way.]

A moment later, Cass Henderson was bent over the same readout. "No, that's not right at all," he said, scratching his stubbly jaw. Shaving had been going farther and farther down his list of priorities. "Have you hailed it?"

"No, sir," the half-Bajoran woman replied, "Would you... Sir, I'm reading a substantial amount of transporter activity between the freighter and the surface... Takaras Province..."

"Define substantial..." Fienberg asked.

"No time. I'm now reading small weapons fire on the surface. Sir, the threat vessel is turning its bow toward us," Iniara uttered a curse under her breath as Henderson and Fienberg immediately snapped into action, heading for their seats.

"Red alert, all hands to battlestations. Send a message to Bental and Miramon, telling them what's happening,"

****

Ilnarin Township,
Bajor,
Takaras Province

Pikarr Rowyn grabbed for the phaser pistol she kept under the bread stand. It was a holdover from her time on the ship, and her paranoia now that she'd left that life behind. Now, it seemed that paranoia had been justified. Poking her head up over the bread stand, she viewed briefly the chaos that Ilnarin had just been plunged into.

Massive blue aliens, with three eyes on stalks and a mouth filled with hornlike teeth, were charging around the crowded street, gunning down anyone who got in their way. It seemed like they were looking for something... Bajorans were screaming and milling around. Glancing around quickly, looking for Gherin Kas, she saw nothing. He must have been swallowed by the crowd... or worse.

Standing, she took aim at the closest of the unfamiliar aliens and was about to depress the trigger when a hand struck the back of her neck, a pressure point, causing intense pain to shoot through her body. Despite herself, she dropped the gun and fell to the ground, until the pain passed.

Standing over her was a human woman, holding the retrieved pistol.

"Good afternoon, Miss Pennington. I'm afraid you'll have to come with me," the woman said, "... and my associates."

It didn't make any sense seeing her there, but Pikarr Rowyn... or Rima Pennington, as the other woman had apparently known, obligingly lapsed into unconsiousness and thought on the subject no further as she was struck on the temple with her own weapon.

She was not aware when the other woman grabbed her arm and transported away.

****

Bridge,
Deck 1,
USS Valkyrie

"Open fire, target the threat vessel's engines," Cass ordered as the USS Valkyrie accelerated toward the 'freighter' that was beginning to activate it's transports again. It hadn't responded to hails in the minute since it had transported hostile troops to the surface of Bajor, and Cass wasn't about to ignore the threat that it posed. To starboard, the USS Defiant trailed them, where he was certain that Commander Vaughn was giving similar orders.

"Give me an open channel. They may not respond, but they'll hear me," he said, then waited for Iniara to give him the signal telling him that it was done. "SS Torgammal, you have launched an attack on Federation soil. Power down your engines and prepare to recieve borders, or we will respond with deadly force."

The 'frieghter' seemed to ignore them, as they shifted their vector and continued toward them. "Sir, they're engaging their warp drive! Weapons fire from the planet has completely ended."

"Ms. Tarin, I want a comprehensive scan of that ship. Mr. Sh'laran, track their exit vector. Mr. Haverlock, you may stand down to Yellow Alert," Henderson ordered, "Signal Commander Vaughn and ask him to do the same."

"Sir?" Rob Haverlock asked from his position at the tactical station.

"We're letting them go. If we track them back to their origins, we can solve the problem at the source," he replied, explaining his logic. The sudden attack must have happened for a reason, and Starfleet Command was going to want to know that reason.

The threat vessel rocketed past them into warp as they stood down from battlestations. Sh'laran called out an exit vector, and Tarin reported that she'd gotten a mostly complete scan.

"And call Ensigns Bental and Miramon. Have them investigate the attack site and report back. I want to get to the bottom of this in the next hour, then follow the ship."

"Ouvrez Vos Yeux"

by:
Madison Amandine- Civilian Attache,
UFP Diplomatic Corps
Dr. Tizarin Lias (Ensign)-
Medical Officer

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

"I have to tell you," Madison said, moving around Tizarin, her hands on the blonde Trill's hips. She kissed her neck softly before coming to her other side. "I can't cook worth beans, so how about, I just stand here and watch you do it?" She picked up a fresh apple, grown in the hydroponics bay (she'd made friends with one of the gardeners) and bit into it, her large eyes wide as she stared at her, dare she say? girlfriend. Tizarin stood at the small stove top she'd set up in her quarters, frying together a collection of peppers and other vegetable that would then be tossed with pasta. Again, the produce were compliments of the gardener who had a small interest with Madison, one that grew into a not so well concealed fantasy when she kissed Tizarin under one of the trees when they were taking a walk through about a week earlier, not long after their initial... meeting.

"Not on your life." Tizarin said. "I need your help." and the Trill offered her a wink, tossing the glance over her shoulder. "Sometimes cooking is very simple. I promise I wont make you sautee, or do anything complicated. But... you can chop, I'll bet."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, almost cut off a finger once. And something else, too, though I won't go into details." She looked down at the cutting board, the knife, and the vegetables in the strainer. Water beaded on their skins as they were newly washed. Madison sighed. "Okay. What do I need to do? And why do you hate me? If I cut something off, you are the one who is going to have to clean up the blood, understand?"

Tizarin turned from her stove, and stood to where her lips were only inches from Madisons. "I hate you because you're so beautiful." she said, teasingly. "And you forget, I'm a doctor. If you hurt yourself I can always fix you up. Now... how do you feel..." she planted a small kiss on Madison's lips, "about mushrooms ?"

Madison couldn't keep the look of repulsion from her face. "I hate mushrooms," she said, "are you serious? Everything about them, their taste, their texture, expecially when they're whole. Uk. Yuck." She shuddered. "Don't make me cut mushrooms." She pouted slightly. "Please?"

"Mushrooms are a sort of staple of Italian quisine. And that is what we're having tonight." Tizarin replied. "But... ok... for you, I'll break the laws of the scilian kitchen." she smiled. "How about grating cheese ? The cheese is replicated, but it's pretty good, actually. Mozzarella and Parmesean."

Madison sighed and nodded. "Anything that gets me out of mushrooms. I'm fine, as long as I don't see them in the food or have any knowledge of them there. If you chopped them up really really find, that would be okay, but don't tell me if you do because that will definitely be too much." Tizarin had taken hold her her forearms from behind and guided her to the other table where the cheese grater and cheese had been lain on the 'preparation for preparation' leg of the cooking adventure. "I can grate cheese."

Tizarin couldn't help but laugh. "You really don't know your way around a kitchen, do you ?" she asked."Well, I didn't either, until I was joined with Lias."

"I'm an ambassador's daughter. I didn't know that food preparation was something any one could theoretically do until i was-- Merde!" she exclaimed, pulling her hand away, dropping the cheese, and sticking the side of her hand into her mouth. "Iwumphamuwarwuffah."

Tizarin gasped, and her hands went right to Madison's injured hand. She pulled the hand, slowly, from Madison's mouth, and kissed it herself. "You did hurt yourself. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have forced you into it..."

She planted tiny little kisses on the other woman's hand, where she was easily able to see a thin cut. It wasn't a big cut, nor was it bleeding enough to notice. But it was ther kind of cut that would hurt or sting far beyond what appearances would lead one to believe it would be capable of.

Madison giggled. "Tu es tres dramatique, ma petite actrice, ma reine de drame." She grinned and kissed Tizarin softly on the lips. "Tres dramatique. It is fine. Merely a scratch. I think I shall survive. Perhaps. And! I shall not let it beat me!" she jabbed a finger in the air as she turned back to the damnable instrument. "I shall assist if it is the end of me -- now who is being dramatic?"

Tizarin 's eyebrows came together in that way she had of showing when she didn't understand something. "You've got to teach me French. It's a beautiful language. And, yeah... I guess I'm something of a dramatist, sometimes. My emotions tend to either hide themselves away, or come out in little explosions. Like the day we met. Remember that ?"

"How could I forget?" Madison questioned, a small smile tugging at her lips. "C'itait une aventure merveilleuse. Je vous ai adori de ce premier moment." She laughed softly. "I was not quite sure whether to be frightened or elated. I do not think you quite were either, mon cherie..." She glanced over her shoulder. "I think I've got this grating thing down okay now, just need to show it who's boss, yeah?"

"Yeah, there you go." Tizarin said. "I knew you could do it." and she returned to her skillet. "Madi, can I ask you a question ? I mean... off the cuff ?"

"Of course," Madison replied, lifting the grater to pull the lingering pieces of parmisan from inside, before picking up the other type of cheese. "Ask away."

"Ok... and be honest, ok ?" Tizarin chanced a glance over her shoulder. The two women were virtually back to back, as they prepared seperate portions of their meal. "When you first saw me, scrounging around on the floor for that PADD, what did you think ? First impressions..."

"Oh. I don't know." She frowned slightly, lifting her head to stare at the wall, forehead crease. "Honestly, I thought you were a little clumsy. But cute. Very cute. Something about your nose, perhaps."

Tizarin laughed. It was a joyous laugh, and it sounded more like it had come from a young girl, than the often serious Trill. "That's very refreshing, you know. My nose ? Honestly, most people usualy think I'm some kind of nut. Cold, or tempermental, depending on how they meet me. Except for guys who want to go to bed with me. I never know what they think. You know what I mean ? The kind you meet in bars."

"The kind *you* meet in bars, the kind *I* eat alive," Madison said. "But I know what you mean. There. Done." She turned and wrapped her arms around Tizarin's waist and kissed the back of her neck again. She smiled slightly as she slight shiver that brushed over the Trill. "I do not know how anyone could find you cold. Or tempermental. A bit of a nut, maybe," she laughed softly, closing her eyes, resting her forehead against her lover's neck, "but neither of the others. That's my job. To be cold and tempermental. Conservative. Propper. That's how everyone always sees me because that's how I want them to see me. Daddy's work and all of that."

"You're not doing your job very well, are you." Tizarin teased, reaching back to stroke her lover's hand. "Ok... I've got to give you something else do to, or we wont get to the eating part... let's see... you pick ? Where would you like to make yourself useful next ?"

"Not doing my job very well? I've got it finished, I think it's very well. I would best like to just stand to the side and admire that I've got me one that can cook. Or if I must slave away with you, perhaps I could stir something. I'm a bit of a spoiled bitch if you want the truth." There was laughing sarcasm behind her words. "Most amount of return for the least amount of input is my favourite way to go, though appreciating fully how wonderful you are is a full time job, if you want my opinion."

"I meant you weren't doing your job well, of being conservative and proper." Tizarin replied. "At least, I know of some people who wouldn't accept us... our relationship ? You know what I mean ?"

"Not particularly," she said. "My father wouldn't be fond of it, and I know some others, but considering no one knows my preferences, I'm pretty damn good at it, thank you." She folded her arms as she looked at her. "Are we in a relationship?"

Tizarin actually had to think on that a moment. It's not that she didn't consider herself in a relationship with Madison. She did. It's just that she had never considered the possibility of ever being in a relationship with anyone. "Yes... at least, I consider us to be. How do you feel about that ?"

"I..." A pause. "I'd love to be," Madison said, "I've never been in real relationship, not really. At school, I was with someone for two months, but I don't know that it was really a relationship."

Tizarin turned to face her. And she reached up, and stroked Madison's face, lovingly. "I've never really been in a relationship either. Not something that actually had any feeling or meaning to it. But... and don't think I'm some kind of nut or something... but, I feel something for you. When we're together. And I don't just mean in bed. I mean in here." and she touched her bosom, her hand over her heart.

"I feel something for you too," Madison said, offering a small smile.

"Oh... I'm so glad to hear you say that." Tizarin let out a sigh of relief. "So ? Are we a couple ? "

Madison paused, and then nodded. "Oui, mon cherie." She raised her eyes and offered a wide smile. "Of course."

"In that case, this is a celebration." Tizarin said. "I've got something hidden away. I just had a feeling when I bought it, I'd want it for a special ocasion. I didn't know what kind of occasion, then. But... this is special. It's in the cabinet on the other side of that counter where you conquered the grater." Tizarin gestured, indicating for Madison to fetch out whatever her surprise was.

She tilted her head but did as directed and pulled the bottle of wine from the cabinet, looking it over. "Very nice, very nice," she said, nodding her approval at the Trill vintage. "Expensive. And not French. But very, very nice." She moved and kissed Tizarin softly on the lips before pulling out the corkscrew and quickly dispensing with the cork. She took two wine glasses and poured, offering one to her girlfriend, sirling the wine gently to let it breathe. "To new life," she said, raising her glass toward Tizarin, "and open eyes."

"Keeping Your Feet On The Ground"

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell,
Engineering

Nara sat hunched over her console reading the readout on her PADD for the structural integrity diagnostic as the computer ran the inertial damping diagnostic.

Everything looked fine so far. She had to adjust a few things, but they were minor changes and would likely not make much of a difference, but Nara felt better knowing it would meet higher standards.

-Three Hours Later-

The computer beeped. Nara blinked. She wasn't sure when the last time she blinked was, because she suddenly realized her eyes felt dry. She closed her eyes a moment more and looked down and transferred data to a new PADD.

She stood a moment and looked around. Liason Lady wasn't around yet. Which was a relief. She looked toward the door and saw a new batch of people come in. Several others walked out. She was quite amused suddenly seeing the refreshed people passing the brain weary people.

She turned back to her station and bent backward but her back didn't pop. Darn. She bent her neck to the side and it did. She sighed as she sat back down to get back to her numbers. Just another fun night in Engineering.

When she got bored she reminded herself of a few facts. Without a correctly functioning intertial dampener, people would be floating about. Without a poor structural integrity those floating people would float right out to space. She almost laughed at the thought. So in essence this tedious job meant she was keeping their feet on the ground.

Might not be fighting people off with guns, but by darn it, she was gonna keep her crewmates from floating into space!

1982