"A New Attache"

Ramir Omar sat wearily in his quarters. In a few minutes, he would head out to greet his new diplomatic attaché – again selected by his father, though this time he had a guarantee that it would not be a member of the Tal Shiar: it would be a civilian.

Fifteen minutes later, the senator knew his father had kept to his word – this new attaché was definitely a civilian. Everything about him suggested he hadn’t ever even seen a disruptor before, let alone held one. His posture alone – while not unrefined, was hardly military-like.

But he was well built, far better built than Omar had been at that age. The twenty-four year old Rihannusu was flirting in the corridor with two young female Starfleet ensigns, who constantly giggled at his every word.

Omar rolled his eyes, something he had seen humans do on many occasions. Back on his home-planet it would have been a very strange thing to do, but here (on a human-controlled vessel) it looked perfectly normal.

As he moved closer to the attaché, he overheard some of the conversation.

“So, what is your name again?” One of the ensigns asked him with a smile.

“Erredn Vrih Himne,” he said proudly. “Of course, Erredn is my title.”

“What does it mean?” the other woman said. “Overlord, or something grand like that?” They both giggled together.

“Actually, it means inexperienced student,” Omar said coldly, as he stepped up from behind Himne, nodding towards the two ensigns, whose smiles had vanished at that sudden revelation. Seeing the ambassador, they quickly walked off.

Himne turned fiercely on the senator. “How dare you-” However, his voice trailed off as he saw who he was speaking to.

“I… apologise, my lord,” he said quietly, as he bowed his head. “I was unaware you would come and meet me in person.”

“Not as unaware as those two ensigns you were mindlessly flirting with,” the senator said scathingly. “You are aware that my last attaché had an intense relationship with the chief of security on this ship, before trying to kill him? Are you just trying to secure the bad reputation of Romulans onboard this vessel? It’ll make the Galaxy seem like one of those old-fashioned soap operas.”

“My lord?” Himne frowned with confusion. “What is a soap opera exactly?”

Now it was Omar’s turn to frown – he had become far too human-like during his time onboard the Galaxy.

“Doesn’t matter,” he simply said, beckoning for the young Rihannusu to follow him back to his quarters.

Once they had arrived, Himne took a seat while the senator began his interrogation.

“So, where are you from, Erredn?” he asked.

“I am surprised your father chose me for this assignment,” Himne said. “I have spent most of my adult life working as an assistant to your uncle, who is governor of my small home-town. I come from an insignificant family, and frankly don’t know why I was chosen for this.”

“Of course, the acquisition of wealth doesn’t matter to me, like it does to some,” Himne muttered under his breath, a little too loud.

“Ah,” Omar said. “I remember what my father said about you – you’re that communist boy.”

“My lord?” For the second time, Himne was bewildered.

It’s anti-capitalist, not communist! Omar’s mind reproached him, as he realised that he had used a human word instead of Rihannusu. I am definitely getting too human, he thought to himself.

“You’re the commu-” the senator briefly hesitated. “You’re the anti-capitalist boy my father was talking about.”

Himne didn’t speak for a second, trying to phrase his reply as delicately as possible – so as to not offend a powerful politician. “It is true, I do not share common Romulan values, however I hope this is not too much of a problem for you, my lord.” He bowed his head again.

Omar shook his head. “It shouldn’t be, as long as you do exactly what I say. Your quarters are just down the hallway, and since it’s your first night here – I’ll give you the evening off.”

“Thank you, senator. May I inquire as to where the bar is on this ship? With all the stress of coming into a new alien environment, I could use a strong beverage.”

“Deck 10, Forward Section,” Omar replied. “It’s aptly called Ten-Forward.”

“Thank you, my lord. I’ll unpack my things later, and be with you first thing tomorrow morning,” Himne left.

The senator sighed. Not only was his attaché nearly as dislikeable as his last one (though at least Himne wasn’t a Tal Shiar agent) but he had also discovered how human he was becoming. And, for a Romulan senator, that was a bad thing.

"Legitimate Concerns"

by
Captain Darion M'Kantu
Consular Attaché Richard North
Lt. Brianna O'Shea

::: Main Engineering :::

"Captain," A firm woman's voice said behind him. As he turned he saw the red haired form of Lt. O'Shea walking to him with a look in her eyes that he'd probably not seen a while. "We need to talk... soon depending on how fast you want your ship warp drive ready." She added as she shook her head and arched her eye brow.

Brianna glanced over to the man with Captain M'Kantu. She then looked back to the darker skinned gentleman. "Captain, I wouldn't come to you if this weren't important." She said.

"Of course, Lieutenant. We need to depart within the day. Anything to do with facilitating that end is extremely important."

"Perhaps something needs to be done as in shake up with your engineering department. They're lacking direction and goals. Taking more time because I'm having to inspect nearly everything, I assure you, sir, the warp drive will be ready if I have to get out and push." Brianna said then again noticed the man standing there, clearly M'Kantu saw she was wondering whom he was.

"This is Consular Attaché Richard North. He is the ships' representative of the Federation Diplomatic Corps while Legate Curran is away."

"Sir," The Lieutenant said with a curt nod.

Richard smiled. "Pleasure to meet you. If you have any questions, just page me, I'll be more than happy to answer anything you might have for me."

Brianna give a nod, "Yes sir." She said then looked back to M'Kantu when he spoke.

"Where is Commander Suder?"

Richard followed behind the Captain as they entered engineering, being careful not to touch anything, this really wasn't the most pleasant place in a starship to be. Everything down here seemed so odd....so uncivilized. He winced visibly, hoping no telepaths were able to pick up that last thought...the last thing he wanted to do was go for a little spin down the warp core...

"Good question, I assigned him and Eshe to replace the dilithium crystals and as yet I've seen no moment done for that. Granted I've been here and now down there. Still, could have seen some sign." Brianna said. "Sir, permission to speak freely?" She asked and saw his nod. "Your chief engineer lacks the drive it takes to be chief engineer, while he might be a good person. The question is, is he a good engineer? I've noticed most of the time, the engineering department is a mish mash of people who seem to be doing their on thing. I'll admit, I could have Suder wrong, not been here that long but your ship, sir, is behind on several engineering upgrades that should have been done long before the refit."

"Those are mighty strong words, Lieutenant. Being only on this ship as short a time as you have, casting about accusations on the professionalism of the Chief Engineer is something you'd best be careful of. Especially in earshot of his loyal crew in Engineering." They all felt eyes following their inspection. O'Shea was Irish; controlling her short temper was a task and likely not gone un-noticed in her criticisms of the current Chief Engineer.

Anna looked around and then looked back to M'Kantu. She then gestured to a gelpack niche she waited for him to go before she did.

Slipping into one of the many new bio-neural gelpack niches that housed within the compass direction situated stations around the warp core on each level, the privacy Daren alluded to in his earlier statement became apparent.

"Now, please elaborate on your issues, Lieutenant. Clarify yourself. Is this a personal conflict with Commander Suder, or professional? I sincerely hope there are no issues with having been Chief Engineer before Ethan coming into play here. If that is case, state it here and now so we can dispense with the politics and move forward." In reality, he'd been fielding numerous complaints from Engineering staff in regards to the current Chief. Dividing the legitimate concerns from personal would help him arrive at a logical conclusion.

"Captain with all due respect, I don't know Commander Suder well enough to critic his personal views on things. My conflict with Commander Suder lies solely on what I'm sit here to do for the Starfleet Corp of Engineers. It bares nothing on my former tenure here as Chief Engineer. I don't ask Commander Suder or any other person here in engineering to do anything I wouldn't do myself." Anna said then paused. "I've heard rumors that Commander Suder and Lieutenant Eshe are involved. I deem that to much of a risk, engineers have to react without thinking. More then that, Suder and other members of your engineering department have neglected simple tasks. The SCE wouldn't have realized how far behind the Galaxy was on some things had it not come in for refit. Their several areas of your ship that was out dated. I can tell you right now that all that has been updated, within record timing I might add." Brianna said then before stopping for a minute.

"I'm firm believer in a Chief Engineer can be a friend and commanding officer. I've done it and continue to do it, your ship is struggling for dedicated leadership in it's engineering department. I hope you take it into consideration that you find a replacement for Commander Suder, he might be a good officer but I'm not sure he's right for engineering. Once you read over your reports, you'll see the recommendations I've made and I've copied them to the SCE per my duties as liaison officer."

"I'll take your concerns under consideration, Lieutenant. Now, tell me, will our engines be ready to launch in 48 hours time, or do you require more testing?"

"I'd like more time to test them, least 72 hours, Sir. I've noticed there was a slight spike in the warp tests we've run. Not sure why. I'd rather not risk the ship over something tat could rip it apart in warp." Anna said then paused. "Might be nothing, but I want to speak on the error of caution."

"Very well. Do what you need to do. If you locate Commander Suder, have him contact me immediately. In the meantime, you have command of Engineering as the field tests are of paramount importance." The medical supplies being ferried to Trill were perishable and could not sit for longer than a pair of weeks.

"Yes, sir. The ship will be ready within 72 hours." Anna said confidently.

As Captain M'Kantu exited Main Engineering in the Stardrive section, he pondered on the level of professionalism he had not been privy to in recent weeks. It was not something he cared to have on this ship any longer.

"Come, Mr. North. I'll walk with you to your offices. This tour is over."

"Resettling"

Ens Lee Rowe
Counselor
USS Galaxy

[Location: Deck 5, Corridor]

Lee walked with a purpose. For a change he was dressed correctly, with his tunic fastened, over his shoulder hung a standard Starfleet case with the small belongings. The starbase personnel had moved his clothes and larger items into his new room from the temporary quarters to his new room.

He approached a door, the gold coloured plaque which spanned both halves of the double doors showed the name 'Ens L ROWE - Counselling Department'. He reached down to the control panel beside the door and tapped it.

=/\= Authenicating, standby... =/\= the computer replied. He waited a moment before the doors slid open with a hiss. =/\= Access granted, welcome aboard Ensign =/\=

Rowe raised an eyebrow at the greeting, it was the first time a starship computer had ever been courteous to him, having said that, this was his first starship, all the 'posh' ships may have such pleasant-mannered computers.

He dropped the case on the sofa and looked around the room. The decor was standard Starfleet, royal blue hard-wearing carpet, terracota-coloured chair at the desk, stone-coloured sofa, armchairs, and bed. As he looked at the bed both eyebrows were raised in surprise, the double bed was adourned with Starfleet bedding, reminding him of the sickbay beds. Stone coloured duvet with a dark blue Starfleet emblem wasn't his idea of relaxing upholstery, that would have to change. The furniture, decor and pretty much the entire room was somewhat customisable, but that would have to wait until after the trial flights, for now he would just get out some of the artwork and posters and put them up to add a sense of personality to the room.

Lee walked into the bedroom-section of the quarters, and tapped the button beside the wardrobe, the door of which slid open to reveal his clothing, which he was glad to see had made it. It wouldn't have been the first time his entire wardrobe contents had ended up in a half-Klingon officer's quarters and been torn up in disgust.

He tapped the button closing the door again and glanced around, it was time for work, once again, redecorating would have to wait. He headed out of the quarters into the still gleaming corridor of deck 5, on his way to his new office.

"Running away from home"

Unaurie Quyve,
Starfleet Corps of Engineers
Civilian Specialist

A warp shuttle - en route to the USS Galaxy.

= = =

It had taken three days journey from Starbase 212 to catch up with the USS Galaxy on its lazy drift outward from the same port of call. The three days of close confines with a young Terran male, a fairly immature pilot with eyes the size of saucers and a slack jawed expression to match, might as well have been a three day travel through Hell, but the time was short and Starfleet Command had assured her that no other arrangements could be made. Unaurie would simply have to make do.

Make do. Unaurie knew all too well what that meant: make personal sacrifices was a more accurate way to put it.

She didn't complain, though by rights, she could have. Complaining would have meant using the name of Sa'awek, Vulcan diplomat of growing renown, and for his part Sa'awek would have helped her. But that help would have come at a cost; one Unaurie didn't care to pay. She would have been in his debt for his intervention. Worse, he would have known exactly where Starfleet moved her, and that simply wouldn't do: what good was it to run away from home, if everyone there knew exactly where to find you?

The shuttle shimmied again. Hauling along at warp 5 had its difficulties in a craft this size. Unaurie didn't like the sound the warp drive was making. Someone really should have checked the neural gel packs aboard this poor little craft before asking it to perform such miracles. She made eye contact with the back of the pilot's head, easily fixing the cause of the problem: yet another careless young human looking for adventure.

She settled back into her seat and looked out the window at the stars streaming past as they warped along. A few deep breathing exercises settled her stomach. Normally these bumpy trips didn't bother her at all. In her line of work, she'd taken quite a few of them - some of them her own fault. It went with the territory when you designed warp systems. This time, however, she'd been taking something Starfleet Medical prescribed for her to help minimize her natural pheromonal output, for the sake of the boy in these close quarters. It upset her stomach terribly; yet another place where she had to make do.

The ensign glanced backward with a look that was more a leer than a grin."Is it true?" the ensign asked, looking like he was trying to break the ice.

Unaurie shrank farther into the uniform provided by the Corps of Engineers. It always seemed ill-fitted to her; too broad through the shoulders, too long in the arms and baggy everywhere, like they'd thrust her narrow frame into a grey sack instead of a uniform. Today, she felt thankful for the poor fit, because it provided her with camouflage. His eyes might bore into her, but the grey sack proved armor his imagination could not penetrate. He turned back to the controls.

"How much longer, Ensign?" she asked quietly, hating to bring any more attention to herself than necessary.

"About half an hour until we're in hailing range. Not long at all, but that's no answer. You're avoiding the question."

She looked out the window. Half an hour more of this. Her stomach lurched again. "Yes. I am avoiding the question. It is inappropriate." Unaurie decided the direct approach was best for terminating the conversation. She grabbed a sick bag from a nearby rack and was violently ill in it.

The ensign turned back to his controls. The sign of a person being stomach sick often worked wonders for killing the libido. Unaurie stumbled to her feet and staggered to the head at the back of the cabin, content now that she could be ill in peace. She stayed their for the remainder of the trip, trying to get herself together before they arrived.Likely the officers aboard the Galaxy would expect her to start working right away upon arrival. She'd been briefed about some refits and some new systems, systems she'd been part of the design team to create, systems that were all her own.

They would have high expectations of her. Unaurie only hoped she would not disappoint them.

"Calling In The Captain"

Naranda Roswell,
Lee Rowe,
& Captain M’Kantu

Nara nodded to Lee. She really had to deal with this and get it over with.

"Here," Lee said, and slid the computer terminal across the desk towards her. "Do you want me to stay while you message him?"

Nara nodded as she activated the comm signal and waited for the captain’s reply. She looked at Lee and wondered if she would rather him do this, but it was her issue and she would ask.

It only took a minute for M'Kantu's voice to answer, =/\= "M’Kantu." =/\= He sounded as if he'd been awakened by the call, but not as if he were upset by it.

Nara winced hearing the captain's voice. She squeaked at first, but managed to say what she needed to. "Ensign Naranda Roswell here Captain. I need to request your presence at the counseling area." Nara looked at Lee worried. She sounded lame.

There was a pause, and then M'Kantu's voice asked, =/\= "All right, Ensign. Whose office am I coming to?" =/\=

Lee looked at Nara and smiled in an attempt to instill some confidence. He had heard of the Captain, and how approachable he was in a number of situations, he held confidence in M'Kantu, even though he had not yet met the man.

"Mr. Rowe's office sir."

=/\= "All right, Mr. Rowe, Ensign. Fifteen minutes." =/\= There was a pause, and then he added, =/\= "Do I need to alert security, Ensign?" =/\=

Nara looked puzzled, "No, sir. Everything is fine."

=/\= "All right, Ensign. I'll be there in fifteen. M'Kantu out." =/\=

Nara sat back looking at the blank screen wondering how she would tell the captain what she needed to tell him.

Fourteen minutes and thirty seconds later, the door to the Counseling Center opened, and the Captain walked in. He'd either already had a uniform ready to wear or had managed to master the feat dreamed of by Cadets and Ensigns fleet wide of sleeping in a pressed uniform without wrinkling it. "Mr. Rowe," he nodded. "Ms. Roswell. What seems to be the problem?" His manner suggested that he suspected something of the nature of the problem, but was waiting to see if those suspicions were accurate.

Lee looked towards Nara and smiled slightly, again in an attempt to instill some confidence.

Nara stood and looked at him and then back down, "Sir. Something happened at the Academy..." Nara wasn't sure how to go about this. "If a professor made a serious violation, and someone didn't report it until later, how would that go?"

"The Academy?" Daren relaxed ever so slightly as he thought a moment. "There would be an investigation of course. Questions that would need to be asked of you and possibly other students, to verify that something had occurred that was out of bounds." He frowned. "Depending on the nature of the violation, it might be... painful to go over again and again." He looked at Nara. "You understand that?"

Nara nodded, "Yes sir. I've thought it over many times. As much as I don't want to do this, I know it needs to be done."

"All right then." M'Kantu turned to Lee. "You're familiar with the basic procedure, Mr. Rowe?"

"The basics yes sir," Lee replied nodding, he again smiled in Nara's direction.

"All right, then," M'Kantu nodded. "What I need for you to do is tell me what happened, as simply and directly as possible. Can you do that, Ms. Roswell?"

Nara nodded and cut to the chase, "My sophomore year at the Academy, Professor Marks raped me sir." She said it so bluntly it shocked her and she looked at Rowe and sat down wishing she could take back the words. They were true, but painful.

"Was this a one-time occurrence, or... a pattern of behavior... towards you?" Daren kept his voice as neutral as possible.

Nara spoke numbly, "Once. Only Once." She thought but wasn't once more than enough?

M'Kantu thought a moment. "Did he... You have to forgive me, Ms. Roswell, but I have to ask this. Why didn't you report this at the time?"

Nara sighed, not looking up from the floor. "He told me he could ruin my career. Both in Star Fleet and my reputation on Sakaria. The next morning, when I could have realized better, it had somehow become a recessed memory, just now recovered when we went with Cernu to destroy the mines."

"Had he... made advances... before the incident? Done anything to indicate an interest inappropriate for an instructor towards one of his students?"

Nara shook her head. If he had, she didn't notice. "No sir."

"I don't want to offend you, Ms. Roswell, but there are some other questions I need to ask Mr. Rowe, and I'm not going to do you the disservice of asking them behind your back. You will need to hear them, and learn to deal with them, because they will be asked again. Do you understand?"

Nara nods and remembers to speak, "Yes, sir."

M'Kantu looked towards Lee. "You're convinced that Ms. Roswell has recovered a genuine memory, Mr. Rowe? There's no chance that this is a... stress-based transference of some kind?"

"Although I'm not completely familiar with the thought transfer process, Naranda has 'shown' me the memory and I would say the account is of sufficient detail to speak for itself," Lee replied. "Usually in instances of a fabricated account the detail is somewhat lacking at points."

M'Kantu blinked. "She can..." He turned to Nara. "You can show the memory to others? Let them experience it, see what happened for themselves?"

Nara looked at the captain, "I can show it. Others can see it. No, not experience. I don't think. I only know the basics. It's not something I would want anyone to experience. I showed him because at the time it was easier than using words."

"Is it... painful... Ms. Roswell? To you, I mean. Are you forced to relive the experience in a physical sense each time you show the memory sequence to someone?"

Nara shook her head. "I'm simply remembering. It's just like any other painful memory. I just allow someone else to remember it as well."

"Would you be willing to allow me to see it?" M'Kantu asked carefully. "I will understand if not - we are not discussing a pleasant thing, here."

Nara looked at the captain. He had been nothing but gentle since he came in. She was sure he was not always like that, but she appreciated it now. She stood up, "I'll show you, sir." Nara looked at him to see if he had meant now or later.

"At your convenience, Ms. Roswell - whether that is now or later."

Nara nodded, "I don't know how brave I'll feel later. Now is probably best." With that she eased the Captain into the memory like she had Mr. Rowe. It was about a minute before class ended.

M'Kantu sat there, still, as the memory played itself out, his expression never wavering. When it was done, and Nara had withdrawn, he closed his eyes and shook his head once. 'I do not believe that you will need to be questioned extensively, Ms. Roswell. Not after that. I expect that what will happen ultimately will be that the academy will ask that one of their psychologists - a Vulcan almost certainly - be shown the memory, but once that is done there will be little left but the formalities." he opened his eyes. The problem will be in getting to that point. There are layers of bureaucracy that will need to be peeled back to reach it."

Nara nodded. "I expected as much. Thank you sir."

"Jumping Right In"

Backpost: Takes place before just before "Rites of Passage, Pt 2."

Lt. Brianna O'Shea,
S.C.E. Liaison

Unaurie Quyve,
S.C.E. Civilian Specialist

::: Engineering Office :::

Brianna was standing at the planning table, looking over the latest warp tests to have been run. So far the warp drive looked like it was running alright, but that pesky spike was still there. Reaching up she pulled a stylus and began to make a note on a data PADD as she thought of a possible reason why it was spiking like that.

Unaurie had been brought aboard rather quietly and lead down to the engineering office. It rather reminded her of her arrival at the Mars Shipyards, which had been equally without ceremony. Starfleet didn't often like to admit that they didn't own all the best and brightest stars in the universe. For her own part, it was because Unaurie, like most Deltans, detested violence in any form and to be a Starfleet officer meant she could, and likely would at some point, be asked to commit acts of violence against other sentient beings.

She knew she couldn't do that, not ever again.

Unaurie didn't mind it so much, being treated as a second class citizen in Starfleet. Starfleet had its purpose, after all, and she wasn't really part of that purpose. If it were only exploration, Unaurie wouldn't mind so much; but it wasn't just exploration. It never had been and it never could be, not so long as threats remained in the universe, like the 'Borg, the Founders, or the Breen.

For her, it came down to a philosophical point of difference. She could help Starfleet because she believed in Starfleet's higher purposes. Unaurie just couldn't actually be part of Starfleet.

The young Deltan had only known a few people who understood that subtle point of difference. None of them were actually in Starfleet, though.

"Excuse me," she interrupted, speaking softly and holding back at the door of the engineering office. She glanced down at the personal PADD device she wore slung across her body. "I'm Unaurie Quyve. It says here that I am supposed to report to Lt. O'Shea. I was told I could find her down in the office?" she asked timidly. She held her arms close to her body, hugging the PADD to her stomach.

Anna looked up. "Come in.. I'm Lt. O'Shea." She said then give the young Deltan a once over and nod. "You must be Unaurie Quyve, we've been expecting you. Welcome abord the Galaxy, Ms. Quyve." Brianna said then offered her hand in a welcoming jesture.

"I'm very pleased to make your aquaintance as well, Lieutenant O'Shea," Unaurie replied in the sillibant tones of a Deltan accent tinged with something else very familliar, though hard to place. "I'm ready to 'dive in' as the human turn of phrase goes. How can I best be of assistance today?" she asked, glancing at the warp test results on the table. "May I?" she asked.

"Please.. I was just working on this. There's a spike that keeps blipping up on the tests." She said then moved slightly so Unaurie could see the other padds and things at the work table.

"That spike seems anomolous," the Deltan woman noted professionally. "The last time I saw that kind of readout, it was on a ship with Bodner lines that were just slightly out of calibration. Fussy things, Bodner lines. I'm sure I don't have to tell you about that. You can calibrate them and calibrate them and they'll still snap out of calibration at the slightest variance in phase harmonics, especially if the lines are older. Personally, I'd like to see them phased out of all ships, but until we have a few more field tests of the new design, that's just not possible."

"I'm certain that can't be the problem here, though." Unaurie looked at the readout more closely, frowning enough that her bald scalp seemed to move as well. "This class of ship was scheduled for Bodner line replacement two cycles ago. I can't think of anything else that matches that kind of spike, not without digging into the engines more myself. What are your thoughts, Lieutenant? She's your ship and you know her. Anything you have to say will be much more useful than my guesses. "

Anna nodded. "I was starting to come to that conclusion. I've tried and tried to get the SCE to start working for alterantive things other then using bodner lines." She said. "I've managed to rule out everything else, so it has to be those lines. Looks like I'm going to have to go in and calibrate them by hand." Brianna said then paused to think for a minute.

"I'm thinking we need to start doing some research into alternate parts. Perhaps if we do some leg work the SCE will take it more serious." She said then looked over at the Deltan. "You feel up to helping me do some calibration of those damn boderlines?" Brianna asked.

"Of course," she replied, shrugging her personal PADD off. "It shouldn't take long, depending on the condition of the Bodner lines, of course. They were originally designed nearly a century ago. A solid design for the time, but they really weren't designed with the kind of stress that transwarp fields put on a ship in mind, especially not since the transwarp field generators were redesigned to eliminate the so-called "Warp 4 Speed Limit" problem. It's a pity, too. Sometimes Starfleet holds on to things too tightly for too long."

"Good... lets get some tools and head down the shaft." Brianna said as she turned and lead them out of the room. "So, what is your field of expertise again, Ms. Quyve?"

"It's Unaurie, please. We are rarely so formal on Delta," she explained as she followed. "My advanced degrees are in Electrical Engineering and Astrophysics. My specialty is power systems. It's amazing how alike those two fields are when you're working with the power output of a warp engine. It's only a matter of time before we'll need to harness the stars themselves to keep up with our power needs. I pursue that in my off hours. Well, more dabble than pursue of late. There's a point where all the simulations in the universe cannot tell you as much as one solid field test."

The bald woman picked up a set of tools and strapped them to her belt with practiced familliarity. "My last assignment was at the Mars shipyards. I was on the team that designed the installation for your saucer section," she looked down modestly.

While she wasn't the senior engineer on the team, Unaurie had put quite a bit of personal work into the system, though a good deal of her design had been overruled by 'higher authority.' 'Higher authority,' indeed! More like individual interest groups ensuring their slice of the Starfleet pie. It disgusted her to think about the way the various subcontractor parts suppliers snapped around the design table like a bunch of ravening scavengers.

"I can only appologize for the problems you've been having," the blue eyed Deltan engineer finally stated.

"In theory, design should aim for elegance and efficiency, using the highest quality materials available and the most innovative designs. Reality bears little resemblance to the theory, I'm afraid. Starfleet much prefers the lowest bidder or worse, the bidder with the most political power behind their bid." Unaurie shook her head. "I'm sorry. That was bitter of me. Please forgive the inappropriate comment."

"Please, nothing a engineer can disagree with. Most of the time we have to work with what we get." Brianna said as she walked to a access hatch and then began to crawl down to where the main boder lines where located. "I've made similar comments about the way things are run myself, Unaurie." Anna said as she crawled. "Which is why I need your help. I'm not sure how long I'm going to be here on the Galaxy, while I'm here and while I'm Chief Engineer we are at least going to make the Galaxy one of the best. That means if we have to fabricate and create our own parts... I intend to do just that."

"That is possible, though it would require working closely with operations, to ensure our power needs don't step on those of other departments. Likewise, I can think of several other departments that it might be beneficial to at the very least consult about your plans. The science department will certainly have other individuals who understand warp theory - individuals who may have new ideas that we can explore. I've been thinking about other applications for the neural gelpacks - medical should definantly be consulted about any changes we make that way. The more biology we put into this vessle, the more engineering becomes a partner of medical. Security and intellegence may be helpful in keeping any new designs we come up with secret, both from forces outside the Federation and less scrupulous individuals within the Federation," Unaurie rattled, sounding rather excited. She stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry. Perhaps that was too much. I just see possibilities laid out like so many stars."

"So, you want in on my band of passion driven engineers?" Brianna asked as they the Bodner lines and she pulled the hatch off. Brianna then looked at the time stamp on the access hatch, "Damn it... these haven't even been inspected in nearly six months."

"I am always interested in passion, Lieutenant," Unarie replied. "Particularly of the engineering kind. Sometimes I think it is less messy to interface with machines than with other people.

Unaurie sighed at the comment and double checked the time stamp on the access hatch herself. She cursed softly in Deltan, pulling up a section of flexible conduit filled with blue jelly that looked like it should match the color of the neural gel packs, but had gone dull instead. "Let's just pull them and replace them," she grumbled. "It will take less time than trying to figure out which sections have gone," she paused, considering the next word. Dead would have been the most accurate word. She chose a more neutral word. "Inert in the meantime. If you get a couple of bodies on this with me, we can have it changed out in a little less than two hours and you can move on to something more interesting. I don't mind it. I like working with my hands."

"Good... lets do that." Brianna said then reached up and tapped her commbadge. ~=/\=~ O'Shea to Lts. Danna and Sun, report to Bodner lines relay. O'Shea Out." ~=/\=~

"I trust their work, known them for a while. Good officers. They work good with civlians." Brianna said. "I'll let you begin to work, if you have any problems... let me know. As for our new project. We need to get with Sciences and Operations as soon as we can, lets hold off with medical until we start moving into that department. We know right off we are going to need Ops and Sciences in on this." Brianna said. "Get to work and we'll talk more about the project later on... good to have you aboard." Anna said then smiled and began to move down the jefferies tube.

"Rite of Passage" - Part 2

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Commanding Officer

Lieutenant Ammanalyn Llywhyn
Assistant Chief Counselor

w/ Ethan Suder
Chief Engineer (relieved)

OOC: I wrote Suder based on his most recent logs. No negative intent is intended.

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

"Now, are you accompanying me, or shall I locate another more flexible psychologist who does not disobey orders?"

Ammanalyn blinked at that, straightening from her position, staring the captain for half a minute before she stood. Tampatiaen brushed his head against her thigh, holding it firmly there as he angled an eye up toward the man.

"All due respect, Captain," she said, softly, a bit of her meekness coming out, "but I don't believe it is necessary to speak to me like that. I'm a counselor, I'm not usually in the habit of keeping abreast of what Engineering needs to be working on. I'm more concerned with the functioning of the Engineers themselves than the engines. If you wanted me to meet you in Engineering, that's all you needed to say, you do not need to come in here and take out your stresses on me." She brushed a hand on Tampatiaen's forehead before she moved to walk past the man. She paused just in front him him and looked up, through the massive height difference: a bit more than a full foot. "I was led to believe you wanted to discuss concerns with a crewmember, Captain," she said, large brown eyes narrowed, forehead furrowed. "Do *not* become angry at me because I did not understand you wanted me to play engineer." She brushed by and out the door, taking the lead through counseling.

Daren raised an eyebrow, crinkled a corner of his mouth, but would not allow a smile to break through. Ammanalyn Lywhyn was a petite woman, derided for her diminutive stature and fragile appearance throughout her early years, according to her files. Seeing as she, without reproach, stood up to the Captain without a flinch, showed she was growing as a person and more able to hold her own in a battle of wills - something that was regular in the world of social reparations as per her field of expertise. His only fear was whether she realized her growing strength and belief in herself, or if she were blind to her inner truths and distancing from her soul. Such detachment was the antithesis of enlightenment and only engineered self-doubt in the end.

He trailed the counselor, her daemon trundling along beside her to give him a wary glare every so often.

"My apologies, counselor. I had not intended to offend you. The tests on the warp systems are far from classified, and had presumed all the senior staff were aware of the priorities."

"I'm hardly senior staff," she said, "barely even acting chief counselor, and now that Karyn is ready to resume her duties, not even that anymore. We have been under staffed, since Havras, and have had an influx of patients, I haven't been able to read daily briefings much more than a skim. I must have missed the warp systems report and never really understand them anyway." She looked up at the man who was quickly catching up to her; while Ammanalyn she was an unexpectedly quick walker, the Captain's long strides made it easy for him. "What I mean is that you could have and perhaps should have used more tact when you entered. Instead of berating me, it would have had more effect to say right out we were on a deadline and could we walk-and-talk. Again, I was under the assumption we were discussing a crewmember and would like to limit that to a more confidential setting. I'm also wary because I remember what happened the last time you asked me to do a special evaluation of a member of the staff. I wanted to get all the facts before I was asked to tail he who is in question and assess his capacity or lack thereof."

"Very well, Counselor. Thank you for your insight. I stand corrected." Avoiding the topic of Suder until they reached more secure surroundings, he pulled up alongside the much smaller woman, who as defined by any other civilian woman and on more occasions than he can recall, was trotting along at an irate pace. As much as he loved his wife, these were moments he did not miss.

"Do not sell yourself short, Lieutenant. Your actions at Havras earned you recognition for the outstanding performance and duty of one whose situation appeared bleak. You are young, but you are by far more talented in your abilities than you recognize in yourself, else you wouldn't be officially recognized as Assistant Chief Counselor. I had minor reservations about your placement here on the Galaxy, but you have since proven those suspicions incorrect." The arrived at turbolift 14, of which its specific path delivered them at higher priority to Main Engineering. After holding the lift doors open to allow the counselor in, he waved off the other personnel who had hoped to travel with them. He slipped in behind the Daedryn, to announce a designation to Stardrive Engineering.

"Now... Commander Suder. I did not wish to put you in such an ethical position, but time is of the essence. I'm not looking for an instant evaluation of his entire psyche, but more of an opinion on his behaviour and what recommendations you may have for addressing them. You are not in the position of defining his career."

She nodded slowly. "What sort of behaviour is up to questioning?" she asked, her mind still reeling from the Captain's compliment. Had she performed well at Havras? Was that what that was, a strong performance? Enough to prove herself a capable member of the crew? She glanced at Tampatiaen, who shimmered into ermine form and crawled up her body to tuck himself around her neck: if they were going to be out and about the ship, particularly in Engineering, a place of high traffic, he preferred not to be in the way.

"I have been given reports of irritability, distancing himself from his peers and staff, short temper, and dereliction of duty. Without authorization he handed over Assistant Chief duties to a member of his staff of which has only come to my attention recently. Now that Lieutenant Grey has returned, that issue has not been addressed. His decisions are spontaneous, unpredictable, and inexplicable. I ask for your trained eye in assisting me in assessing the situation."

"Of course, you have it."

"Thank you counselor. It pains me to lay this task on you once again, given the nature of your last charge with the Legate, but I have faith in your strength."

***

Deck 36
Main Engineering

When the Galaxy's CO slipped into the Stardrive section's Main Engineering, it took but an extra second before his presence was announced on deck. Waving them off at ease, his sharp eyes roved around the massive central hub of the ships stardrive in search of the one person he came for.

Ethan Suder worked alone at one of the universal panels that circled the base of the enormous warp core that stretched up several decks. Eshe was nowhere in sight.

Giving the appearance of a general visit, Daren made his way to the Chief Engineer, nodding to those who saluted him as he and the counselor strolled onwards.

"Commander Suder, you've been a difficult man to locate." The Betazoid hesitated momentarily to acknowledge the presence of the Captain and Counselor, whom he registered with a blank stare, as if seeing through her. Dark rings had formed around the sockets.

"I've been busy. Lt. O'Shea has been running my teams ragged, rewriting my system diagnostics, and virtually rebuilding my department. I don't have any spare time for chatting about anything, Captain. Once I've gotten her fiddlings cleaned out of the system, I'll have more time to discuss whatever it is you need." He depressed a series of buttons, at which the warp core thrummed. A diagram shimmered into existence on the panel display, and then fell apart. Suder's fist clenched.

"I want that woman out of my Engineering, Captain. She's a menace to the systems! I'm at my wit's edge. Disrespecting my authority, re-assigning my crews... ordering ME to perform mundane tasks like changing out the dilithium crystals?? Who does she think she is?"

Ammanalyn raised an eyebrow as she examined the large engineer standing only just in front of her. He wasn't as tall as many, but he was solidly built, his dark brown Betazoid eyes tired and angry, displaying his gruffness. But she felt for him; she understood engineers on an odd level, she'd worked with more than a few over the years and discovered the dedicated were very possessive of their engine rooms and often considered the ship "theirs" before they considered it the Captain's or otherwise. She knew very little about the situation, but it was obvious Suder felt an intrusion on his turf. His body language displayed that remarkably well. Sadly, the captain -- who Ammanalyn had become quite convinced had his own unique set of adjustment issues -- took Suder's tired indignation in a different light.

"Commander!" M'Kantu had had enough. Suder's attitude was disgraceful. "She is *your* commanding officer during the warp trials. Do you have a problem with my assertion of that very fact?"

"Yes, sir, I do." The man's face seethed. M'Kantu had never seen such emotion come from the Betazoid. "I know these systems inside and out. She comes swaggering in here, barking orders, criticizing my methods, calling me a slacker-"

"I ne'er said no such thing, Commander." The three of them turned about at the sound of Brianna O'Shea's Irish lilt. She appeared somewhat haggard, a twin to Suder's look. She brushed back a lock of fiery red hair.

"I said yer systems are heavily outdated, and falling behind on upgrades. Thar's a stockpile of parts due fer integration in minor systems gathering dust in systems storage." She crossed her arms, signifying a stand of defiance.

"Yer crews are disorganized, ineffectual fro' scant leadership, untrained on new procedures, and completely unawar' o' the latest bio-neural gelpa' specifications. The systems were redesigned by the SCE to take advantage o' the new systems. It's naw me fault fer your inadequacy in training yerself on them."

"See what I mean, Captain? Miss all high and mighty thinks she's all that and then some. I won't put up her attitude any longer."

"Fine. You are relieved, Commander." Suder's jaw dropped at the announcement from M'Kantu.

"Your attitude has been simmering for some time now, Commander. Lieutenant O'Shea is only performing the duties ordered her by Starfleet Command and the Federation. She has the most current and up-to-date training and credentials with the new systems. Her arrival only brought your issues to the surface. There have been numerous reports of lack of cohesion in Engineering, disappearances, temper flares, and failure to meet deadlines. You are free to pursue legal avenues with the liaison offices on board, but until then, I am left with no reproach but to relieve you of your command and reduce your rank to Lieutenant for the time being."

Suder's blood pounded in his ears. What the hell? This was hardly enough to relieve him. What did this Captain have against him? His mind arrayed itself with a plethora of insults and arguments against the illogic of the whole thing. For the first time, he recognized the sciences blue woman who had accompanied the Captain here. With a pet of all things!

"Take Suder off duty rotation for the next several days, Ms. O'Shea." The dark captain's voice was hollow in his ears. "I would suggest you take the opportunity to schedule an appointment with Counselor Llywhyn here. It would only serve your best interests if you did."

Ammanalyn felt a slight chill creep up her spine when Suder looked down at her, expression a range of emotions, and she mentally prepped herself for a small battle as the Captain turned away from them, the meeting he attended arranged. His attention was directed toward the red haired Ms. O'Shea, he walked with her to the main terminal consoles, several paces away.

"As promised, Captain, we're a go fer launch." Drifting light cream fingers over a pulsing stream of rainbow light, the console lit up in full power mode. The warp core, recognizing the infusion of power request, churned its baby blue curls within the tube a bit brighter and faster.

"What of Suder's tests on my arrival? He had been operating on warp bubble simulations from all appearances."

"He hae ben attemptin' to reprogram the dilithium crystal re-energizing structures. He ne'er had access t' any o' the critical systems."

Daren nodded. "When can we start the engines?"

"Righ' now, if ye like."

M'Kantu tapped his badge, glancing to the left and noticing Ammanalyn was in her element, her coldly clinical behavior taking over. He felt a paternal instinct sluice into his mindset as he watched the child-like woman face down the much larger Betazoid.

"Number One, Main Engineering states they are ready to begin testing. Maintain a presence on the main bridge. I shall remain down here."

[Aye, sir]

"Bad Dreams"

Ensign Paulo DiMillo,
Intelligence Officer

"Answer the question Starfleet!" A figure in a dark corner yelled. Paulo could not see any details of the figure int eh corner expect for the red eyes that glowed, burning deep into his soul. Paulo would still not speak, even after he had been tortured for so long. He could no longer remember how long he was here.

He could almost leave his body, to leave the pain, but no, they would not let him do that. They used some device to keep him in this world, so he could no leave, so he could skip all of this.

"One last time Starfleet, I want to know the location of all Starfleet ships and installations!" As he yelled a surge of energy was pumped into Paulo's body...

At that moment Paulo jumped up out of his bed. "Just another dream," he said to himself as he got up to get a warm glass of milk. He walked over to the replicator, "warm milk," Paulo ordered. His glass of milk appeared in front of him in a swirl of stars. He took it and sipped on it, never really liking the taste, but wanting to get back to sleep, hopefully dream free, or at least have a good dream for a change.

After finishing the milk Paulo got back into bed, hopefully to finish the night off before he had to get to work in two hours.

"One Man's Bullshit is Another Man's..."

Lieutenant Ammanalyn Llywhyn
Assistant Chief Counselor

Richard North
Liaison Corps Attache

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

Richard North paused a moment to smooth the wrinkles out of his clothing before entering the counseling center. One thing he hadn't been able to do before the ship had cleared its moorings at Starbase 212 was get his psychological evaluation done. He had one done every six months when he was in the Senate, and he always had a perfect bill of mental health. But it had been at least two years since his last evaluation. He entered the main doors of the counseling center and walked over to what had to be the front desk.

"Excuse me, crewman?"

The crewman looked up. "How may I help you, Sir?"

"I'm Richard North, I have an 8:10 appointment with..." North scrolled down to the information on the PADD. He grimaced as he tried to say the name; "Ammanlyn Lywhyn...?"

The crewman pointed to a chair. "Have a seat, she'll be with you shortly."

Richard sat down and began to do some reading on his PADD while he waited.

"Mr. North?" Ammanalyn questioned, appearing in the corridor, looking into the waiting room. "I'm sorry if I have kept you waiting, I had a couple of other matters." The petite woman drew a slow deep breath. "If you will follow me back, we'll get this started." She looked up at him as he approached and smiled. "You're here for your standard eval, right?"

Richard smiled back at her, and realized that he was more than a foot taller than her. He hoped that he wasn't going to make her too uncomfortable.

"Yes, I'm here for the standard evaluation. And in regards to the wait, it really wasn't that long."

He followed her into what must have been her office. "Nice place."

"Thanks," she said, brushing her hand deep into the soft white fur of the snow-leopard shaped creature walking at her side. "I try to keep it comfortable, welcoming. The items on the walls and table tops are from my home planet. Please, sit down, let's get started, okay?"

Richard took a moment before sitting down to examine some of the items on the wall.

"These really are fascinating counselor, perhaps sometime you could tell me what they are."

He sat down in the chair across from her and brought his left ankle up to his right knee and rested it there.

"Maybe some other time. We're here to talk about you. How are things going? Do you like the Galaxy so far?"

Richard shrugged. "Things are going fine so far. I'm really liking my assignment to the Galaxy. I've met the Captain, seems like he's got a good head on him, a bit of a temper, but I like that in starship captains.

"I briefly met one of the engineers...O'Shea? Seems like she's got a good understanding of how the engine room is supposed to be run. I think she'll make a fine Chief Engineer when she's promoted to the job, although just between you and me, I think she could handle the job now if it was given to her.

"I met one of the doctors...what was her name...cute as a button...Sanchez...that's the name, Miranda Sanchez. She only lives a few doors down from me. She goes running with me occasionally, I need to get this knee back into shape so I can one day walk without the use of a cane...yes..I know, I'm trying to do that right now and it's probably foolish, but other than the slight limp, I think I'm doing all right so far.

"And of course...there is you, counselor. I don't know what to think of you yet, but...you also seem like you have a good head on you. Hmmm...I seem to be rambling a bit, and I think I've been analyzing everyone since I got here. I apologize for that...but...I'm still used to how I did things in the Senate...sizing people up, see who I can get on my side to support my bill, or swing this way on a vote, or who I am going to outright destroy during floor debate. I need to break that happen."

His face turned red.

Ammanalyn frowned slightly, more inside than out. She didn't care much for politicians. Any kind of politician, she didn't care how honourable they attempted to be, there was always something shady going on, just behind the curtain. She knew the man's Daemon immediately: a skittish little owl. 'I'm hiding everything,' his hidden Daemon said to her. 'My greatest scars are inside, but I can't allow anyone to see them. That's why I focus on others.'

She blinked, looking to focus attention on his person again. "Yes, you're not on the Senate floor any longer, only on a ship." She studied him, carefully. He looked about the average 40 year old human. Nothing spectacular, really. "What sort of trauma counseling have you sought after your wounds? There's no notation in your files. Have you even sought counseling?"

"Yes, I have sought counseling. Well...I wouldn't call it sought...more like I was ordered to counseling...like I really had a choice. The counselor made visits to my bed while I was in the infirmary, clinging on to life sometimes by a frayed thread. The reason why you have no notation of it is because I was wounded in a classified mission. Some parts, like the freeing of several POWs were declassified immediately after the mission and given to the general public. As more and more of it is declassified...eventually...you should have access to all my medical records. What I can tell you is that I was wounded...many, many times...and damn near bought the entire farm on that mission."

"I was wounded here," he said as he pointed to the left part of his torso, "and here," he said as he pointed to his left hand, "and then finally, we have the three compound fractures in my right leg...not to mention burns from disruptor bolts."

His eyes watered a bit and he instinctively brushed the back of his hand over them. "A nice promotion to Commander and the awarding of medals that they don't list on my service jacket. If I want to see them, I have to go to a little room at Starfleet Intelligence Headquarters. How I've lasted this long is beyond me, Counselor. I can sense that you know that something is eating up at me inside...burning away at the fibers of my inner soul..."

She frowned, her eyes narrowing slightly. She felt Tampatiaen lift his head from where it rested on her leg. She glanced down, her large brown eyes meeting his large, ice blue. Their thoughts melded together for a moment before she sighed and sat back in the sofa, which was so large it seemed to almost swallow her tiny body entirely. She folded her arms and Tampatiaen jumped up next to her, curling up, head in her lap. His silver spotted markings gleamed a little in the dull lighting. "You need to let it go," she said. "Honestly. You're dwelling on it. You are looking at this event as something that should not have happened to you. It's why you ended up going into politics, isn't it? Because you wanted to stop it from happening to others and thereby, stop it from happening to you over and over again. You need to accept that it happened and let it go. The pain isn't in your leg. That leg has heeled. It has heeled a hundred times over by technology greater than anything civilizations have seen. What hasn't heeled is the stuff in here." She pointed to her head. "And in here." She rested a hand on her chest, over her heart. "There are people who have done far greater things than you have and who have suffered far greater pains than you did and they manage to put it aside. Your pain and suffering is very real to you. But it should be suffered with humility. Because otherwise, it will eat you alive-- you and everyone else who has suffered with you for similar reasons."

Ammanalyn folded her hands over Tampatiaen's head, fingers tracing his soft fur. "You signed up to do a duty, then and now. That duty was served during war, it is something you have to accept. You knew the risks when you became involved. If you are looking for sympathy from your pains or admiration for your actions, you aren't in the right place. I am here for you to talk to about what haunts you, for you to sort yourself out. I respect your sacrifices, but not if you endeavored upon them for your own personal glory. If that is not the case, if there were other reasons? You need to accept what happened and move on. You were not forced into doing the task you did, you accepted it. And you need to accept the responsibility you now have for coming to terms with that. That includes not running from your anger or your fear and facing the fact that you need to understand that."

She studied him again, as though trying to see what he was thinking, if he was listening to her. "That means you cannot be the pompous: look at me, I got severely injured and almost died after going on a covert mission no one has access to. It might have garnered you respect in the Senate. It won't in this room or, I'm willing to bet, on this ship as a whole. You're with tried and true veterans now. Not politicians. It's an entirely different world."

She knew she was lecturing. She knew she was being hard on him. And she knew she was probably breaking every rule in the book. But she'd seen too many people like this, with a black-ops elitism, super-hero air to them, and this was the only way to even attempt to get through to the quaking little bird bottled up inside their pathetic human form. The grackle was looking at her, trembling now, feathers fluffing nervously, angrily perhaps, it was hard to tell. But she'd dared. It had to be done.

"I...uhhh...Jesus Christ..."

Richard looked down at the floor. Was that what had gotten him involved in politics? No, it hadn't been. His love of politics was what spurred him to run for Senate, and because he wanted to help people.

"Counselor...everything you said...makes sense. But...I didn't sign up for that mission for personal glory. To hell with personal glory and having a war record. I signed up for that mission because two of those guys being held captive by those slippery Romulans were my friends. One guy was on team when we won the NCAA Championship, another guy I met at Harvard when I was taking some classes to get my masters. I wasn't going to let them rot in some Romulan hell hole.

"The value of friendship means something to me. And no friend of mine should sit in a Romulan prison a day longer than he has to. Why don't you look back at some of my campaign speeches...I never talked about that day, not to members of my campaign, not to my buddies in the Senate, and certainly not to the friends that I helped rescue. That day eats away inside me. Burns at my soul. I felt it was better to just try and forget...forget the pain...forget what happened...honor the fact that I was a Lexington Minuteman, but forget everything else."

He looked into her eyes, unaware that a tear was trickling down his right cheek. "You can sit there and look at me like I'm some sort of fluffed up former Starfleet Officer who has something to prove by joining the Senate...you can sit there and think I'm one of those guys who will sit at a bar and tell war stories to anyone who will listen to them, but I'm not that guy. So I guess I should start again...my name is Richard North...and I love hockey..."

She looked at him and bit her lower lip, her forehead furrowed, eyebrows slightly raised. She was trying hard not to laugh. It wasn't funny. Part of him, maybe even most of him, believed that, but she didn't for a minute. She could see. "Do you honestly believe that?" she asked. "I mean, honestly. If you look deep in yourself. Why is it... Richard North..." she sat forward, elbows on her knees. Tampatiaen, uncomfortable with her new position, flashed into ermine form and crawled wholly into her lap, curling there, almost entirely out of sight. "Why is it that you felt that *you* were the right person to get your pals out of that Romulan hell hole? Hm? Why is it that you felt it had to be *you*? Maybe there wasn't thought of political gain at the absolute forefront, but it was a question of ego. You felt that only *you* would be good enough to save your friends. You felt that only *you* were able enough. It is ego." She sat the last words slowly, emphasising each. "You need to start asking yourself why. Why did you decide to take the value of your friendship in that direction? Why, when confronted by it, do you feel that a single tear, one single tear, is the perfect punctuation? Senator. Consul. Mister. I'm a counselor. Understand? And a good one. A seasoned one. I'm not a constituent. And I'm definitely not one of the nurses or ward counselors that work in the Starfleet hospitals. I see parts of you that no one else would. So you need to start asking yourself, 'why'. Once you do, life will be a hellovalot better."

She sat up again. "And as for the hockey thing? Human sports aren't my strong suit, but I know better than to even pretend that anyone who loves hockey is even vaguely sane, so you're lucky I don't commit you now for that confession." The humour was deadpanned as she stared at her Daemon, massaging her fingers into his fur.

"I didn't feel that I was the only one that was good enough to save my friends. I'll go to hell and back for my friends, counselor. Hell and back. And they'll do the same for me...at least...I hope they would."

He sat back in his chair, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "Why did I do it? To this day, I honestly don't know. But when the CO of the Lexington came down and asked for volunteers for this mission, not one right hand in the room was lowered. I knew of the risks...but I wanted to help my friends. If I had died on that mission...at least I would have died helping a friend. Helping a friend is more than anyone could ask of you. You never turn your back on a friend."

"And what the hell are you talking about a tear? I wasn't crying...and no tear went down my face," he folded his arms across his chest, but deep down, he knew he probably had shed a tear.

She gave him a look telling him that was sheer and utter bullshit, and then she stood. "Well. I'm calling a time of death on this appointment. We're obviously not going to get anywhere, and when you are looking to get serious, come back and find me. Until then, I suggest you look to make an appointment with one of our other counselors should you see the need. I'll make an adequate notation in your file."

Richard looked up at her. "You're not going to tell any of this to the Captain are you?"

He glanced back down at the floor when she gave him that look that said; 'Stop trying to win points with me.' He stood up and headed towards the door, but then stopped.

"Counselor...I...would like very much to come back and talk to you again some time. I...don't want to have to do this again for another counselor. I don't think of you as a counselor...you're more than that. You're a listener...and a thinker...and...I believe you when you tell me that you look at me and see things that nobody else can see. Can I come back tomorrow?"

She stared at him, and then repeated: "When you are ready to get serious, come an see me. I seriously doubt you will be prepared tomorrow. I am a counselor, Mister North, and that is all. A counselor is a listener and a thinker... and a feeler too. And that is all, *all* you need to know about me. See me when you're serious and have left what the humans call "bullshit" in your quarters." Her soft-spoken voice made the hard words and harder meaning behind them sound strange, foreign, but gave them even more credence. "I will end the session if I feel you're not being up front. I'm your counselor. I only judge you when you blur the truth in my direction."

"You're right, counselor. I probably haven't been up front with you today. I'm probably afraid of talking about some of the stuff that we'll go over next time...but...I think I'm ready. Good day, counselor."

"We'll see," she said. "Do some thinking tonight. Good day."

"Brain Picking Roommates"

Naranda & Branwen

Branwen was walking around the corridor in her new marine uniform. This was her first posting on a ship; in fact it was her first posting anywhere after university and officer training. She felt completely lost. Also because most of the people wearing naturally in naval uniform, and not all the stares directed at her were friendly.

Nara was reading a PADD on the way to her quarters when she saw out of the corner of her eye someone wearing a marine uniform. She looked more lost than marinish at the moment though. She turned around and caught up to her, "Where are you trying to go?"

"Oh hello, ma'am. I am trying to find my quarters actually." She was staring at the paper in her hands. "I had no idea that these ships were so big. The quartermaster said it was easy." Bran blushed in embarrassment.

Nara smiled, "Well, yea. THEY would find it easy. They know the ship as well as most designers." Nara looked at the PADD, "I can help you find it, but I'm not exactly sure where it is either." Nara looked at the numbers of some nearby doors and pointed a direction, "Let's start this way."

"Thank you, ma'am." Bran said with heartfelt gratitude. "Most people look at me as if I am something dirty because I'm a marine. I didn't know it would be this bad."

Nara realized she didn't give the girl her name, "Oh, by the way, I'm Nara."

"Branwen London, ma'am. My friends call me Bran."She smiled shyly again.

Nara smirked, "Nice to meet you Bran. Please call me Nara."

"Nara, nice name. What do you do on this ship?" She asked next.

"I'm an engineer." Nara stated numbly as she looked at the doors. She expected the numbers to be decreasing, but suddenly they were increasing. She looked around. Up ahead the corridor turned. She walked toward it, "We missed a turn."

"I didn't know ships were this big. The ones I was on during my training were much rather. And when I was a cadet eye on the trained on planet bases." She admitted.

"Well we just acquired an old Enterprise hull. Being the flagship, it had to be pretty big. Now it's ours." Nara smiled proudly.

"It's impressive. I guess it will take me a long time before I find my way around, I had better start practicing." She smiled shyly at the other woman. "You don't mind me being a marine, ma... Nara?"

Nara laughed. She was sure the woman meant something else, but Nara felt sassy. "Being a marine is your choice. I'm actually a warrior commander on my home planet."

"Cool. And yet you are not a warrior in Starfleet, why did you not choose that, if I may ask?" Bran asked curiously.

"I dealt with enough battle scenes on Sakaria. Also didn't feel like using any warrior skills on anything but Sakaria. This is a nice change of pace."

"If you say so." She had never found engineering interesting herself.

When they finally got to her allocated room Branwen was very surprised to find her boxes neatly stacked outside the door. There was a small note attached. "Sorry you got the wrong room. I've already found another roommate, a naval one."

Bran took a deep breath and ignored the mistiness forming in her eyes. "I guess this means I have to search for another room. Thank you for being so kind to me, Nara."

Nara looked at her, "What?" Nara wanted to add something nasty to the note. "I don't have a roommate yet."

"Are you sure?" Branwen looked very vulnerable and very young right now. "I don't want pity, you know."

Nara looked at her, "Well, you've got to have someplace, and I don't know how long till they give you something. I've become sort of a hermit, so another person around would be good for me."

"Are you absolutely sure? I didn't mention that I am also a shrink?" That was usually another turn of for prospective roommates.

Nara looked at her a moment, "I'm a telepath. I promise not poke around your mind if you promise not to poke around mine." She smiled.

"A telepath, cool. I would like to know more about it, if you don't mind. I had a few friends in college who were telepaths." Bran started picking up the boxes, feeling better now.

Nara helped her pick up some boxes, "Well, maybe we'll talk about it someday."

"Cool. So show me the way." Bran's smile was genuine now. She had made her first friend on the ship and to her that was very special.

"What's expected of me"

by Lt. Ella Grey

****

There was a low hum in Sickbay that had always annoyed her but, for once, Ella had tuned it out.

She lay back on the biobed as she waited for the doctor and nurse to look over her scans. That was the function of a bed, afterall, and Ella had been putting in some long hours lately. Besides, if she sat up, she'd probably start swinging her feet or tapping her fingers and she didn't want anyone in Sickbay to know how nervous she felt.

If this idea that she had cooked up didn't work, then she wasn't sure what to do about her speaking problem. She could probably find some old law about equality for the handicapped but she thought that probably wouldn't work unless she was physically impaired. And she wasn't ready to speak, at least not on their terms.

No, this was the best course of action, Ella decided.

She looked up at the ceiling and watched the silhouetted reindeer twirl about on their strings. She had come back to her quarters to find the door frame decorated with snowmen and harassed-looking elves. An hour later and her roommate, Indigo, had added purple and red snowflakes. Ella wondered what she was going to get everyone for Christmas this year.

"Are you going to ignore me forever?" an impatient voice suddenly interrupted.

She blinked. That voice was familiar. Too familiar. And definitely unwelcome. Damnit Laura, she thought. You were supposed to say I had a migraine. She wondered if it would be too rude to dive under her quilt and hope that it would go away.

"I brought you a present." Thomas whined from her right.

Ella winced and forced herself to face him. He stood there, in all his perfect boring glory- like an Adonis gone prep- with a velvet jewelry box in one hand, flowers in the other, and a perfectly capped smile.

She didn't want any of it.

But what could she do? This was the man that her parents wanted, he was decent enough, if not damned irritating, and this was what was expected of her. Still she delayed a moment before answering.

Mama said there'd be days like this, Ella Grey, the teenager, thought without humor.

"Don't pout, Princess." Thomas said in his 'charming' tone. "If the ring isn't big enough, we'll get you a better one. My old man's loaded."

It wouldn't have been a Friday if Thomas hadn't mentioned how well off his family was. Had she ever loved this idiot, she wondered.

Thomas suddenly looked petulant. "You can't put me off forever, you know. There's plenty of women out there who would have me. And you may be a rising star, Ellie, but you're not that damned good."

As romantic proposals went, it stunk, but Thomas had never been really great at that kind of thing. His mother tended to buy all of Ella's gifts for him.

Ella opened her mouth to speak.

And the doctor walked into her bedroom. And then she was back onboard Galaxy.

Ella blinked hard.

I must have fallen asleep, Ella thought. Even though she was now sitting up.

Weird.

"It looks like the procedure will work, however, I need to get authorization from Fienberg before I can do it." The doctor said. "Look, I understand your reasons but I'm not sure this is the best step for you. Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this? "

No, Ella wanted to say. But let's do it anyway. But she only nodded.

"I'll let you know when you've been cleared. Its a simple surgery. Recovery time will also be minimal. I have some forms for you to fill out."

Ella nodded as she followed the doctor to one of the offices.

Why had she dreamed about her ex fiancée of all things?

Weird.

"Piece of Mind"

Captain Daren M'Kantu,
Commanding Officer,
USS Galaxy

Selok (thankfully written by Laurel - great job),
SCE Specialist

"Mr. O'Shea, you have a go." Daren stepped back and out of the Corps Engineer's sphere of influence.

The redheaded Engineer tore into her duty with a flurry of movement. Calling out watches, she activated a systems panel for the Captain to witness. It wasn't needed for her, but this way, he wouldn't be kept in the dark, if not share in the excitement.

The power markers, hovering in a soft pink, rose up through individual stages, changing colors as they processed each diagnostic array of instructions. The core itself flurried with power as it churned its icy blue tendrils about within.

The warp core cast a bluish haze about the engine room, causing both it and its inhabitants to appear to contain some Andorian genes. Selok was not Andorian, and though his greenish tinted skin now had a strange glow he merely allowed a mere second to appreciate the aesthetic beauty of the moment. The majority of his impressive intellect was focused on the upcoming warp trials.

The core was 'primed' and careful monitoring of the fluctuations of the warp field would take place during each incremental increase in speed. From his station at the lee of the core, he focused primarily on the field generated by the warp core. Even at rest, the mighty engines generated a noticeable field effect that was mostly confined to a thin boundary layer across the hull of the starship. It was his duty to make certain that no damaging, or other, fluctuations could occur.

"Bridge, begin increasing to warp speed. Increment each speed level by 0.5," O'Shea instructed from behind Selok. She, too, monitored the warp core as step by step the speed was increased.

Minor fluctuations caused the core to flicker in its intensity, but Selok dismissed the fluctuations as to be expected. The warp core was performing within specifications.

None of the prior situation with Suder remained; the engineering teams worked in harmony, flowing from one individual to the next. Daren felt the pride amongst them. It emanated with a life of its own.

"Warp 3.5," someone in the engine room announced. Selok acknowledged the notice briefly, but his attention was riveted on the expansion of the warp field. The warp field increased in both diameter and in intensity as the warp speed was incremented upwards. Its shape dictated the type of space the ship was able to travel through. At the current fluctuation, indications specified that the starship was approaching warp 5. However, as soon as that point was reached he witnessed a dramatic change in the warp core's readings.

"Lieutenant O'Shea," Selok called, "The warp field is de..." He was unable to finish his sentence as all of his Vulcan strength was directed to hanging on to the console in front of him as the starship was sent into a violent spin. Inertial compensators could not address the sudden deformation of the warp field. Like a stone on a pond, the deformation in the field was purely inertial and could not be compensated for.

"SHUT IT DOWN!" O'Shea cried. Daren had gripped the closest railing, unable to assist in any way. This was on par with another time in his life he felt useless, and it was not one he enjoyed feeling.

Logical, Selok thought, however the warp core would need to be shut down in increments - else the stress caused by both the warp field and the sudden decrease in speed would cause the starship to break apart.

"Bridge!" He slapped his commbadge. "Prepare for emergency procedures!"

The core slowly dimmed in intensity as someone on the bridge began the shut down procedure. Without analysis of the data gathered during the test, he could only speculate as to the cause of the destabilization of the warp field. However, as one of his fellow engineers insisted, she preferred to trust his speculations over facts. If he were to discuss this particular situation with her, he would theorize that the warp core had been overstressed by the tests. Though he had never before heard of, let alone seen, such a dramatic destabilization before.

[Captain!] Lt. Kara'nin's voice filtered down over the intercom systems, but before M'Kantu could respond...

A flash of blinding white light overtook each and every person on the ship.

****

As soon as Daren gathered his senses, he blinked away the burning intense spots in his vision. He felt cool wind on his dark skin, the warmth of the evening sun casting its last rays of light over him. Casting his hands out in front of him, he found he was wearing a shortened sleeves slip over shirt, Bermuda shorts and sandals.

****

She blinked and another stroke of gold appeared on the canvas. It served to emphasize the autumn colors of the Tulalina Falls Forest, though the picture needed a bit more red. As she reached for her paints, a warm arm wrapped around her waist - pulling her into a half hug. "You know, Jasmine, you spend more time painting and studying than any other woman I know. Have some fun, come out on the town with me."

****

Children scurried along the white sands, their skin deeply tanned from a life of escape on the island, seashells dangling as they laughed.

"Hi Daddy!" Daren's eyes widened open as the memory came down upon him.

****

Heloi turned in the embrace to face Rick Turner, one of her co-stars in Starfire, "Rick, I can't. After I finish this, I need to finish my paper for the Science Academy..." Strange, she thought, this place seemed almost unreal...though every piece of furniture, every paint, was exactly like her apartment in Hollywood. "This is impossible."

"Why do you say that?" Rick asked, and suddenly she remembered. Rick had died earlier that year in a shuttlecraft accident.

"You're dead," she whispered, pulling away from his arms.

****

Daren dropped to his knees, tears welling in his eyes as his gaze fell upon the daughter he hadn't seen in years. He gripped her shoulders, not believing the moment. She was solid, her skin flushed and warm. Quickly he threw his arms around, drawing her in close, gripping her tightly.

"Oh, how I missed you, Bahiyah!"

****

"Ha! Very funny, Jazz. Now c'mon. I don't feel dead do I? Let's go out. Do something fun," his boyish grin was the same as always. But Jasmine knew...this was not supposed to be, but in her heart...she wished it could be true. What had happened?

****

The emotion of the moment ebbed, at which point Daren then realized the hopelessness of the moment. Pushing her away, he forced himself to recollect his thoughts.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" The eight year old had such an innocent look. Just like he remembered her on this family trip to the Mediterranean so many years ago.

"You aren't real. You can't be. Who are you?"

“Returning home”

Written by Attaché Nyssa Alvarez

It had been a few weeks since the Hazard team had returned from there hellish week, all that had been apart of the little excursion had returned wiser and more aware that there were elements within Starfleet that either wanted to see others fail or were simply looking out for themselves.

This in itself didn’t surprise Nyssa, her previous job had been to assist in putting these people where they belonged. Yet this time it seemed different, before when she encountered these people it was with a deluded self focused vision of them running or saving Starfleet from some menace, this time thou it was very different.

She had no doubt that the CO of the training facility had been aware of what was going on but without physical evidence nothing could be done about it. But that didn’t mean that the nco’s who acted on the behalf of the CO were going to get away, Nyssa upon her return and collecting witness statements had contacted an old friend within the Justice office. The statements alone would be enough to convict the two men and get them into one of starfleet’s private suites on a lovely planet in the middle of no where.

Nyssa smiled putting the unpleasant memories out of her head as she turned and left the bathroom, her eyes fell upon the small Christmas tree that was standing proudly in the corner of her room.

Nyssa took a deep breath before picking up the small pack containing more reports on the political upheavals of the galaxy. She often found the reports amusing since most of the reports were either directed at the klingon’s, ferengi or cardassians. It was often like reading some bad romance novel, learning that a Klingon governor was insulted because someone within the empire had the nerve to question his drunkenness or his ability to command.

Yet the romulans always seemed to be this massive ocean of tranquillity, yet you knew always knew that underneath the surface there were currents that could pull you in and confuse the living hell out of you. it was for this reason Nyssa never ever wanted to become a member of Starfleet intelligence, she rather liked being sane and would do all she could to remain so.

Nyssa entered the new ten forward, the ship hadn’t changed layout overly yet what had was the designers need to keep everything in the typical Starfleet interior colours. ‘Note to self, ask the captain if he can paint over this’ she moved to a dark end spot within ten forward and started to read.

Only a moment later she felt something wash through her, the room shifted slightly as she found herself dressed elegantly looking over a party that was happening. “this….” she looked stunned and turned to leave the party something wasn’t right and she didn’t know what.

BACKPOST - This one obviously takes place before Pieces of Mind.

"Unexpected Guest"

Captain Daren M'Kantu,
Commanding Officer

Commander Cassius Henderson,
Executive Officer

Lieutenant JG Rima Pennington,
In Custody

and introducing...
Major Sharien ir-Aeravh T'Riasau,
RNI Liaison

****

Captain's Ready Room,
Deck 1,
USS Galaxy-A

Cassius Henderson arrived at the ready room door, trailed by two female guests.

He'd sent the crew of the Valkyrie back to the Galaxy several days previous, then followed the instructions of an encrypted Starfleet Intelligence communique. Two days later, he arrived back onboard the Galaxy, leading two women. One, the crew knew quite well, though they were probably surprised to see her. The other woman drew many stares as she strode across the bridge behind Cass. As many as Savar tr'Khellian had drawn before his 'incident'.

"As you were," Cass ordered the bridge shift, who had turned to stare in shock at the sight of the second female guest. Her prescense on the bridge of a Federation starship was unheard of and highly out of line with procedure. Cass continued on the ready room door and rang the chime, all the while conscious that this time, he was not smiling to be returning to the USS Galaxy, his home.

Daren pondered at the elongated portal that gave the Captain and any guests an unobstructed view of the stars as the streamed past. Rubbing his chin, he found himself wanting of an opinion or view as to why his First officer had brought along the unauthorized visitor he knew was awaiting his response before the ready room doors. Cassius had been allowed to apprehend one of the Tactical officers of this crew based on her high clearance to classified ship systems on the Galaxy class ships. As old as these ships of the fleet were, constant refits and access to Starfleet Intelligence documents as demanded by her status as an analyst had given Daren this course of action.

"Enter." He took a deep breath, turned on his heel and prepared for the new visitor. Hendeson had best have a good explanation for breaking with Starfleet protocol and allowing this individual unprecedented access to the state-of-the-art technology now present on the ship.

"You wait here," Henderson pointed to an unoccupied console next to the ready room door. Pennington looked to him with pleading eyes. She wanted this all to be over and out of the way, but his glance to the other woman reminded her that there were some things that she was not allowed to hear. She lowered her eyes in indignation. He saw and understood her humiliation, but could do nothing about it. "Don't move, don't touch anything. If you do, Ensign Watkins has permission to send you to the brig."

The security officer on duty nodded and walked over to stand beside Rima. Cassius offered Rima a nod before turning to enter the ready room.

"Captain M'Kantu, sir." Cass ushered the other woman into the room. He'd come straight from the shuttlebay this time, having learned from his previous eerror in keeping M'Kantu waiting. It would also have been foolish to allow the woman to wander, or to have the conversation in public, so he brought her straight to the ready room. From his coat, he produced the PADD that had ordered him to a small space station on the Federation's border with the Rihannsu Stellar Empire to collect his passenger and her package. He passed it to the commanding officer of the Galaxy. "This should explain everything. The device is still onboard the runabout, under guard."

Glaring at his First officer, but content at his getting to the point, he took the PADD from his XO, scanning it without glancing up. His expression, stony and unrelenting, never expressed the feelings beneath. Years of experience did that when you'd seen what he had seen. He suspected there were more and more crew on this ship who were developing the same instincts. "Explain why you have brought this device here, Mr. Henderson, instead of delivering it to your point of contact during this mission?" Still, he would not meet the gaze.

"This is the point of contact. This is Major Sharien T'Riasau. Starfleet Intelligence has been working since the Battle of Galvanis to broker a deal with the new Rihannsu Naval Intelligence for the use of a cloaking device onboard the first of the Galaxy-III refits," Henderson replied, ignoring a self satisfied glance from the Rihanha woman, "It seems that Admiral Illyanovitch managed to do something right for once."

"Why was I not notified of this order? Am I not worthy of being kept in the sequences of communications? He finally tore his gaze from the PADD, placing it quietly and coldly on his desk, to turn and approach the smug Rihannsu. "And who authorized this... individual... on my Bridge?" He burned his dark eyes intot he shorter, sinewy woman who met his gaze with as much fight.

"Operational Security. There remain factions with the Rihannsu Intelligence community, the Tal Shiar for example..." Cass replied, ignoring the staredown that was taking place. M'Kantu did need to establish his dominance in this place. Major T'Riasau was a proud woman, but it was M'Kantu's ship. He continued, "...that could capitolize on knowledge of this exchange, weakening the RNI. That, in turn, would weaken the Federation's position in Rihannsu affairs. Not to mention the various groups and individuals within the Federation that would love to get their hands on a cloaking device. Admiral Price granted her bridge authorization, though she will find the computer core to be quite unforthcoming with answers to most of her questions. Lieutenant Dobryin should have taken care of thse things by now." Cass added the last part as much as a warning to T'Riasau as a way of answering M'Kantu's questions.

"Until I receive notification of this order and the protocols in place for the Major, I want her off my bridge. She has no place there." Such serious breaches of protocol. Ironically, he found himself wishing Victor Krieghoff was present. Major T'Riasau would not have gotten past the shuttle bay. Especially after the last debacle with Atole Tekri and her success at incapacitating Sub-Commander Savar. He shall have to have a discussion witha his Intelligence Chief. There were too many breaches in command of late. Ignorance of structure was unforgibale. "When she has settled into her temporary habitations, we shall then discuss the nature of this mission, Commander."

"Of course, sir," Cass replied. It had, as it turned out, gone down exactly as he'd expected. With Major T'Riasau confined temporily to quarters, he would have enough time to do some information gathering of his own, and determine exactly where she stood on ch'Rihan and with the RNI. "You understand, correct Major?"

The Rihanha woman nodded imperiously. "It is the way of my people to question everything. It is because we questioned the sanity of Surak's teachings that we are who we are. I assume our respective superiors will sort things out, Captain M'Kantu."

The mere mention of Surak by a Romulan gave the Captain pause, but it would have to be addressed at a later date. Time was of the essence. "We shall see." He didn't have to mention that their superiors has bee 'sorting things out' for almost a century, since they cast aside a mutually inclusive Tomed agreement to blatant candor. Agreements by the Rihannsu were known to be broken at a whim. The simple fact that governmental restructuring on ch'Rihan was in flux was enough reason to disbelieve anything would be worked out at all. He tapped his commbadge. "Security to the Captain's Ready Room."

Ensign Watkins took the call from the bridge post and poked her head in the door, leaving a subordinate to watch Pennington. "Yes, sir?" It really didn't surprise her that this had been the result. Whatever had possessed Henderson to bring a Romulan officer, in uniform onto the Galaxy's bridge, had better not make it into the water supply.

"Escort our 'guest' to temporary quarters on Deck 9. See to it she is confined to quarters until I order otherwise." The ship's brig was on Deck 9, as well. It was probably the most heavily secured deck short of the Main Bridge - which didn't appear to be today - and Deck 5, where the main computer core access was located.

Watkins nodded and motioned for the Rihanha woman to lead the way, unholstering her phaser as they stepped out of the room. T'Riasau, long since used to distrust among beings not of the The People, simply did as she was asked. It would, as she had said, probably be worked out. As they walked to Deck 9, she contented herself to figuring out the nine different ways in which she could kill Watkins from their positions.

After the doors had slid shut, M'Kantu burned his dark eyes into Henderson. "You continue to surprise me with your incredulous decisions, Number One. Be that as I understand you felt the necessity of the level of urgency you felt in delivering his information to me personally, and you are unaware of the new security protocols on the Galaxy, I can let this indescretion slide, but only this one time. I can be forgiving of many slights, but bringing a Rihannsu woman to the highest secure section on the ship after the incidents with Atole Tekri and Sub-Commander Savar can be folly. Next time you feel the urge to deliver any individual to my Ready Room, be sure to confirm the latest protocols before doing so. I have no desire to allow another incident on this ship, Commander. Especially one that the Tal Shiar would love to acquire technology of," Without waiting for an answer, as he did not need one, he continued on. "Now, explain to me what this device you have located has to do with the Galaxy since no one seems to have informed me of the intentions of it?"

Cassius nodded, taking the admonision in stride. It was not unexpected, after all. "The device is to be installed, and kept under guard. Orders should be circulating to you, Commander Corgan, Commander Suder, and Lieutenant Dobryin. It's on loan in the same manner that the Defiant's initial cloaking device was.

Major T'Riasau is here to instruct the engineering crews on it's installation and use, then to serve as an observer on the bridge. Obviously, her access to just about everything will be limited beyond that of a civilian. I've been placed in charge of maintaining our security regarding her."

"And what makes Starfleet Intelligence think that there isn't a threat? I see nothing that suggests that we're not simply inviting the enemy onboard, as we did with Atole Tekri?"

"Things are starting to change on ch'Rihan. Political currents are running in our favor. General Omar's appointment to the Senate Proconsulship is the last surge of a dying element in Rihannsu politics. There is a movement toward returning power to the senate that is gathering strength. Rihannsu Naval Intelligence is one factor in the movement. Most of their operations thus far have actually been internal, against the Tal Shiar, as well as other radicals with the Empire. Starfleet Command feels that we can benefit by strengthening our ties to and offering quiet support to this movement. Consequently, RNI has been more forthcoming with resources lately."

M'Kantu did not look satisfied.

"Sir, I understand your concerns. You're aware of my work for SFI. I'll do the background work on her myself, and you can hold me responsible if she causes another incident. The orders and protocols will come."

"Very well, Number One. But I must warn you. Do not, and I can not stress this enough, neglect your duties. You are the executive officer of this ship before you are an agent of Starfleet Intelligence. You seem to have forgotten that here today. See to it that it does not happen again."

"Aye, sir. Now, on the subject of Pennington..."

"Cure?"

Lieutenant Corran Rex,
Vanguard Squadron Commander

Acting Lieutenant Jasmine Heloi,
Vanguard Executive Officer

(OOC: Backpost, taking place right after Corran's return to the ship)

"So have you enjoyed temporary command of the squadron?" Corran asked his exec as they took seats in ten-forward.

Jasmine laughed lightly at the comment as she leaned back into her chair, "Enjoyed? I wouldn't necessarily say that, Corran. We thought you were dead...and with so many losses..." She shook her head, "It was something that had to be done, and while I was in command of the squadron there were times that it was...fun. But mostly, I missed having you around." She brushed her reddish locks from her face and smiled, "It just wasn't the same."

"Well, the rumors of my death, as you see, were greatly exaggerated." the Trill replied with a faint smile. "Half the squadron gone, though.. I'm still reeling from that. Also.. it's hard to wrap my head around the fact that we've been gone months, when it was just a few weeks for us."

"I can definitely understand that particular feeling. It can be disorienting whenever one gets caught in a temporal 'slip.' The Big D encountered one while I was on her, we thought we were traveling for just a few hours but when we returned to normal space-time we received several frantic calls from Command asking for our status since we were over four days late to our destination. Though, if I might say it, it seems that you are more...balanced since we last saw each other." The Betazoid regarded him with a curious expression as she awaited his reply.

"I'd wondered if it was obvious."

"Only to a Betazoid," she smiled, "When you walked into a room it was as if several people were shouting at once. It's quieted down to one, much stronger voice." She suddenly looked chagrined, "I'm sorry, Corran, that was rather rude of me. I think I've been away from home too long. You don't have to answer if you do not wish to."

"No, I might not want to talk about anything else that happened on that hellhole, but this.. I'll certainly talk about. " Rex replied. "There was something in the water - it's a compound that.. well, it's not important."

"What's important.. is that it seems to have cured my disease. The thoughts and personalities of my past hosts aren't split apart into separated entities anymore - I'm as integrated - as sane - as any joined trill who's lived ten lives."

Heloi smiled brightly, "That's wonderful, though I'm sure it's a little strange for you to not have their voices clamoring your head anymore. "

"Well.. it's not always." he replied. "The effect wears off after twenty-six hours. I've synthesized a serum from the chemical compounds, but if I don't take it., it's even worse."

She frowned at that particular tidbit of information, "Have you spoken with medical about the compound? I find it worrisome that when it's effects wear off the voices return that much worse."

He snorted at that. "What do they now about T'Rex's Syndrome that I don't? I discovered it, after all."

"I mean the compound itself, Corran. To at least make certain it doesn't have another side effect."

"You think I should tell Feinberg?" Corran laughed. "Yeah, that would be.. amusing."

Heloi was about ready to throw up her hands and give up on the matter, "It doesn't have to be Feinberg. Someone, anyone. Hell, even sciences. I just don't want something else to happen after we just got you back."

"I'll.. think about it."

"Good. Now, why don't we get something to drink?" Jasmine replied, feeling as if she had just fought a battle - to a standstill, perhaps, but a battle none-the-less

"Sounds like a plan." he replied. "And about this promotion you've had to Acting Lieutenant...."

Jasmine smiled slightly, "Yes?"

"Well, you've done an excellent job finding.. replacement pilots. And I've reviewed the reports of Havras. I'm thinking we should make it permanent."

Heloi's jaw dropped, "Really? I...I don't know what to say." The normally outspoken former actress was at a loss of words.

"Well.. 'Thank you, Lieutenant Rex. You're a god among men" would be a good start." he laughed.

Jazz laughed as she repeated, "A god among men? Inflate your ego much?"

"Hey, Lieutenant, true's true." was his only reply.

"7 ate 9"

Naranda Sol Roswell

Nara was sitting reading a PADD. She had created the routine for herself. After her shift, she came to 10-4ward to eat and do some reading. She had already eaten and decided that while keeping routine, to try something new. So she would try every drink in the replicator. Today was a Vulcan tea. She took the first sip and scowled. She got up to get a trusted favorite. She would try some Betazed drink tomorrow. Perhaps her genes would help her like it. Before she could speak to order, a bright light hit her face.

Nara looked down over the railing. Below, she saw K’Erin kissing a girl. Nara smiled. He was really happy. He looked up and motioned for her to come down. She slid down the ladder and saw people milling around Deep Space 8. Her face contorted, suddenly she was confused. Something wasn’t right.

The girl said something to Erin and she walked off. He put his hand on Nara’s shoulder, “I thought you said you were happy for us now?” Nara looked at him. “I am. This is a very happy time for me.” She paused and looked around again, “I mean was.”

"Dead Man's Walk"

Ensign 8-ball Hunter

It hadn't been a very special day at all until her dead father walked into the room.

After forty minutes worth of excercising in her rather special, unique way (which basically meant jumping up and down and dancing around like crazy to loud, energetic music) 8-ball had taken a sonic shower, changed into some PJ's, and collapsed on her bed, enjoying a nice, calm day where she could relax and not have to worry that aliens were invading or friends were dying.

Then the door opened and her father walked in, shutting the door quickly behind him with a mischevious grin on his face.

"Dad!" 8-ball said and leapt up from the couch, giving him a hug.

"Hey, Kahless," Thomas said, smiling down at her. "How's it feel to be eleven?"

"About the same," 8-ball said. "What'd you get me?"

"Me? Who says I got you anything?"

"Daaaad," 8-ball said. "I know you got me something for my birthday."

"I'm serious, honey. I've been very busy today. Work was crazy, people were complaining. I just didn't have a chance to stop and get something."

8-ball stomped her foot. "You're not fooling anybody, Dad. I know you got me a present. I'm very smart, you know."

"Honestly, honey. I know I should have but I just didn't have time. I know. How about you go get some shoes on and we go out and buy you a nice pink dress."

8-ball folded her arms and tried to look crossly at him, even though she couldn't quite get the grin off her face. "I'll burn it," she threatened.

Thomas gasped in mock-horror. "You wouldn't!"

"Oh, yes, I would. But I know you, Dad. You didn't forget and you wouldn't get me anything icky pink. C'mon. Pleeeeeeeease!"

Thomas smiled. "You're too smart for me, Kahless."

8-ball grinned, took a step forward, and then looked at the front door and stopped. She remembered what was behind it. She remembered this day.

"You got me a puppy," 8-ball said slowly to herself. "A mostly black little dog with a few white spots. Yang. I wanted a little white one with a few black spots so I could call her Yin and they could be friends."

"Well, how did you know I got you a dog, Kahless?" Thomas said, still smiling. "You must have seen him. And here I thought I was fooling you when you were fooling me!" He opened the front door wide and there was Yang, waiting to rush forward and lick 8-ball's face.

8-ball looked at the puppy she had loved so much, the one she got in trouble for trying to bring with her to school. "I had to get rid of him when I went to live with Mom," 8-ball said, still talking to herself. She took a step backwards into the house and remembered when her mother had thrown all her father's things away. "I missed him so much."

"Kahless, honey, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost. Kahless? Don't you like your dog?"

8-ball raised her eyes from the puppy to her father, watching her. "Nobody's called me Kahless in a long time," she said. "I wouldn't answer to T'Pol even when I was a child but I didn't get the name 8-ball until I lived with Big Man. After I lived with Mom. After you died."

"Died?" Thomas laughed. "I didn't die. I'm right here, baby. Are you trying to kid me? Cause I warn you, it won't work. I'm very smart too, you know."

8-ball swallowed hard and stepped further backwards into the house that she knew wasn't her house. It was her quarters on the Galaxy, a long, long ways from Earth. Thomas reached out to touch her hand and she moved out of his reach. "Don't teach me," she whispered.

"Honey? Baby, I'm telling you, I'm alive. It's fine. Everything's okay."

8-ball stared at her dead father. "You died in a year and three days from now. . .more than ten years ago. I grew up. I survived. But it hasn't been okay in a long time."

Thomas reached for her hand again and 8-ball screamed and jumped past him and the dog, running out of the room. "Kahless!" Thomas yelled after her, but 8-ball never turned, running down the corridor for something real, something now, to hold on to.

OOC - A low quality backpost to before we left.

~Welcome Home~

The three Fruna'lin

"<You're alive>," Arkedi asked from the door to Cutter's quarters.

"Sem," he said, turning around towards the door. Arkedi was leaning against the frame, his large violet wings set behind him, offsetting his white clothing. Beside him stood Zan with a beaming smile. Suddenly she dashed inside an lept into his arms, hugging him.

"Ist Zan," Cutter exclaimed, stepping back, trying to maintain his balance, "<knock the breath out of me.>"

"<You're alive!>" she screamed, kissing him full on the lips. He jerked back a little, shocked, but then fell into it, welcoming the touch of woman after several weeks on a desert planet.

Arkedi coughed loudly, interrupting the lengthy welcome. Cutter's gaze jerked towards his friend and mumbled a 'huh', his mind clearly elsewhere. "<How come I don't get a hello like that?>"

Zan and Cutter smiled. "<I'm sorry Arku, do you want a kiss, too?>" Cutter asked, setting Zan down and moving towards the violet feathered Fruna'lin in jovially threatening manner.

"<Hah. I'll pass on the tongue,>" he laughed, grabbing Cutter in a strong hug and planting a peck on the cheek. "<We thought you were dead.>"

"<Yeah, so I'm beginning to find out. What happened to my stuff?>" he asked, looking around his bare quarters. Technically, they weren't bare, but all of his native flourshes were replaced with the highly unappealing Starfleet standard furniture.

"<There was a battle after you left the ship,>" Arkedi began, "<Something exploded in your quarters.>"

"<You're couch caught fire,>" Zan added, stepping up and wrapping her arm around Cutter's side as they all viewed the display of tack before them.

"<So, it was all destroyed?>"

Arkedi laughed, "<No, just your couch. Afterwards, well, the ship was getting rebuilt-->"

"Refitted."

"Dwa?" Arkedi asked.

"Refitted. <Refitted. Starships get refitted,>" Cutter explained.

The violet haired Fruna'lin threw look of ridicule at his friend, "<Who cares? The ship got rebuilt, you were dead, they were going to throw it away, so I took it.>"

"<Oh, you have it all?>"

"<Um, no, not exactly.>"

"<He gave it away,>" Zan explained, falling backwards on the Federation couch, one of her green wings smashed against the side and jetting up into the air.

"<You gave it away?!>" Cutter screamed. "<To who?>"

"<I sold it when we went back to Kenara. You had some good pieces, you should take up drum making again,>" Arkedi explained, sitting on the couch arm next to Zan's feet.

"<Flattery's not going to get you out of this one, Arkedi.>"

"<What are you getting mad for, you were dead. What was I supposed to do? I kept a couple things, I can give those back. I kept your first drum and you had a nice donala. Besides, now you have a clean pallette, you can create anew.>"

Cutter grumbled at that and there was a pause in the conversation.

"<Well, I have to go. I have to tell them what linguistic programs I want in the computer before we leave the starbase. I wanted to see you as soon as you came aboard. I expect you to come over tonight, I'm going to cook you a good Kardi meal and you can tell us what death is like,>" Arkedi said as he got up to leave.

"<All right.>" Cutter said, then turned as Arku reached the door, "<Its good to see you again, Arku.>" Arkedi stopped, smiled and nodded before leaving. Cutter then turned to Zan, "<You're being quiet.>"

She laughed, "<Well, you know Arkedi. Hard to get a word in.>"

"<You have it changed much. Hasn't it been months?>"

"<How am I supposed to change?>" she asked, sitting upright.

"<I thought you were going to have a child for Arkedi.>"

"<Oh. Yeah. I think we've both forgotten about that.>"

"<I'm glad you both thought it through so well.>"

"<Well, we had to settle in here first. We did actually mate a couple times before heading to Breen, but it didn't stick. Then the ship got refitted and we went back to Kenara.>" She motioned him closer and he complied. "<Enough talk about Arkedi. What was it like, alone out there for several months?>"

"<If I didn't know better, Zan,>" Cutter said as she pulled him down by the front of his uniform, "<I'd say you were trying to seduce me.>"

"<Maybe you're not as smart as you think,>" she said as she kissed him.

"<You know that as far as I know, I was only gone for a couple weeks, so if you're doing this as a gift or something, its not really nessecary. I've certainly gone for much longer without,>" Cutter said once they broke.

"<You're quite the charmer,>" she said and Cutter laughed. "<Why can't a friend fuck a friend?>"

"<Well, when you put it that way...>" he said, leaning in for another kiss. Welcome home.

"A curious bunch those navy people"

Ella Grey
Branwen London

She couldn't believe it! Bran was lost again. Twice on the same day. And she felt too silly to ask for help again. People were already laughing behind her back because she was a marine. But after watching several people walk by

without even looking at her she couldn't stand it any longer.

"Ehrm, ma'am..." She whispered. "I think I am lost again."

Ella stopped at the woman's plea of help. Just her luck that she didn't have

her computer PADD on her at them moment, not expecting to run into anyone that she would need to talk to. Ella smiled wanly and nodded at the woman.

The woman seemed nice enough, but didn't say anything. Bran thought insecure. "Ma'am?"

Ella paused then covered her mouth, pointed to her throat, and shook her head. She couldn't think of a more effective way to say that she was mute. Besides spelling it out. And she didn't think the cleanup crew would appreciate her writing on the walls to get her point across.

"You have a sore throat."Bran said with compasion. "I am so sorry, ma'am, maybe you should go home and rest, "I can find someone to help me." Not bloody likely.

Ella couldn't help but laugh at that. She shook her head and again pointed to her throat.

"You are mute?" Bran was surprised, she didn't think she would find somebody disabled on a starship. Marines certainly didn't work that way.

Ella nodded and then gestured for the woman to follow her.

"I am sorry." Bran said, feeling uncomfortable and not really knowing how to act. She couldn't ask any more questions because the other woman couldn't answer. So silently she followed her.

Ella shrugged and gave another wan grin. Wait till the woman found out that it was voluntary, then she'd really be uncomfortable. She paused as they passed byone of the labs, ran in and came back out with a computer PADD. *IM ELLA she typed.

"Hello, I am Bran, ma'am." She said. "Would you like to sit down and have something to drink." Bran said kindly feeling so sorry for the poor woman.

Her eyebrow shot up. Sympathy had earned her many things before but never something like a glass of water. *NO, THANKS, I'M FINE. SO, ARE YOU HEADED FOR YOUR QUARTERS OR SOMEPLACE ELSE?*

"My quarters. I had to move because my roommate didn't like Marines, and now I have lost my new quarters again." She said softly. "Is it terribly impolite to ask what happened to you, ma'am?"

Ella smiled. *MAYBE JUST IMPOLITE, NOT TERRIBLY IMPOLITE.* She shrugged. *WOKE UP ONE DAY AND DECIDED I DIDN'T WANT TO TALK ANYMORE.*

"You what...ma'am?" Branwen was taken aback. "Why? Maybe we should walk to my office after all and have a chat."

She regarded the woman now with a sinking feeling. *I HAD MY REASONS. AND YOUR OFFICE WOULD BE IN THE COUNSELING DEPARTMENT, I TAKE IT?*

"Yeah. I am the experiment. Marine shrink, just out of school. This is my first posting. I don't have much experience yet."She said honestly. "But it sounds like something pretty bad must have happened to you to do a thing like that."

Just her luck, Ella thought. *WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT? MAYBE I JUST NEVER LIKED THE SOUND OF MY OWN VOICE. A PERSONS ACTIONS DONT ALWAYS HAVE TO BE THE RESULT OF A TRAUMATIC INCIDENT.*

"But why would you give up talking otherwise? It must be a handicap, in your work, in socialising, are you seeing a shrink?"

She wanted to frown as the shrink had hit the nail on the head but kept her smile in place. It had been awhile since she had gotten to play with a shrink, Karyn was just too fragile for that now, and the woman had it coming. *IT HAS ITS UPS AND DOWNS. AND I DONT LIKE SHRINKS. NOT SINCE MY FIRST ONE.*

"I am sorry. I know there are some bad apples like in every profession." Bran apologized.

Ella shrugged. *ONE MINUTE THEIR TALKING ABOUT FREUDIAN SLIPS AND THEN THEIR SLIPPING IT TO YOU. NEVER LOOKED AT A COUCH THE SAME AFTER THAT.*

"A couch, that's a bit outdated." Bran smiled.

Ella blinked but decided to try again. *MY PARENTS DID BELIEVE ME OF COURSE. BUT THEY BEAT ME REGUARLY ANYWAY, SO ITS NOT LIKE THEY WERE PRONE TO BEING SYMPATHETIC.*

Bran nodded her understanding on that one.

*AND THEN I WAS ALWAYS WORRIED ABOUT MY FIGURE. I FOUND THAT BULEMIA WAS THE BEST WAY TO GO ABOUT IT BUT ONLY UNTIL I FOUND THE DIET PILLS. DO YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN OVERDOSE ON DIET PILLS? GO FIGURE.* Ella gave a wide innocent-eyed expression.

"Yeah. Sounds like you had reason to be upset." The young marine said with sympathy.

Ella frowned, perplexed at the woman's reaction *SHALL I TELL YOU ABOUT MY EXPERIENCE WITH THE CULT, MY RUN IN WITH THE LAW, OR MY KIDNAPPING?*

"Let's go find my quarters first, honey... I mean ma'am and then you can start at the beginning. Where your parents part of the welsh cult like mine?

Man my dad broke my arms and legs so often I lost count. And if I had any thoughts they didn't like it was the strap." She rubbed Ella's back. "You just tell me everything you want to share."

Ella stared hard at the woman, a 'your bullshitting me, right?' expression on her face. It couldn't be.

"What, I don't understand you?" Bran said.

She shook her head. Just her luck. A naive counselor. Kinda took the fun out

of it. *YOURE GOING TO HAVE A HELL OF A TIME HERE, HONEY, IF YOU BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU HEAR. REMEMBER NOT ALL OF YOUR PATIENTS ARE GOING TO BE AS HONEST AS YOU ARE.*

"You... you lied?" She was trying to take it in.

*WELL, HERE ARE YOUR QUARTERS COUNSELOR.* Ella said with a false smile, trying to not feel like an absolute bitch for tricking this woman into confessing something.

"Did you lie about everything?" Bran was still trying to comprehend it.

*ALL OF IT, EXCEPT FOR ONE THING. HAVE A GOOD AFTERNOON.* She walked away.

"Wait." Bran sad. "Please come in. I want to know why you did that, was it

just to be mean. Because frankly ma'am I have had enough of people being mean to me today because I am a marine. Or were you afraid I would find something out about you who don't want to share?"

Ella shrugged. *I DONT HAVE A VENDETTA AGAINST MARINES.* Anymore, she thought.

"I am glad to hear it. Then I don't see why you lied."

*BECAUSE YOU TRIED TO INSTANTLY ANALYZE ME.* Ella typed honestly. *DIDN'T EXPECT YOU TO BE SO...GREEN. YOU REALLY NEED TO WORK ON SIFTING THROUGH THE SHIT PEOPLE WILL TELL YOU.*

"Why would you lied to me if I only trying to help. I want you told me sounds very familiar." She blushed. "I was just curious what would bring somebody to stop talking. Because the only one that is inconvenienced by it is you yourself."

*NOT REALLY. I FIND IT REMARKABLY EASY TO TALK WITHOUT TALKING. OTHERS JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND. AND WHO SAID I WANTED HELP? YOU ASSUMED TOO MUCH, BRAN.*

Bran shrugged. "I just thought you would."

Ella considered the woman. *IT WAS NICE OF YOU THOUGH. I'VE GOT TO GO RUN SOME ERRANDS. I'VE PROGRAMMED A MAP OF HOW TO GET TO YOUR QUARTERS ON THIS COMPUTER PADD. USE THE BLUE BUTTON TO ACCESS IT.*

"Thank you very much. Will you come and visit me again?" She then asked.

Ella turned, smiled, and answered in sign language. Then she left.

Bran watched her leave. She was very puzzled by this strange woman. Puzzled and intrigued.

"What a Trilling Experience" Part I

Ensign Miramon Terrik,
Flight Control Officer

Ensign Tizarin Lias,
Medical Officer

Ensign Saul Bental,
Intelligence Officer

* * *

"I just don't understand it."

Since he returned from Bajor, Saul didn't keep in touch with anyone from the Valkyrie - except for Miramon. After escorting the pilot during his visit home, and then being helped by him in order to bring down Rosenthal, Saul felt they formed a new yet strong bond of friendship, the kind of bond you don't just put aside once the trip was over.

Since they were working on different parts of the ship and during different times of the day, it was difficult to meet, but they made it a habit to have dinner together every two or three evenings, on ten forward.

"This Ensign DiMillo." Saul continued, hand still grabbing the half-full glass of Grapefruit juice, "I understand why they re-instated him, but how comes they allowed the man back to intelligence? One of the most important attributes of an Intel officer is integrity and reliability. You get exposed to the most confidential material on a daily basis. would you really trust someone who was convicted of crimes and spent six months on a penal colony to have that responsibility on his shoulders?"

Miramon smiled at his friend, considering the point. Saul was quite amusing if somebody got him riled up - the Bajoran obviously enjoyed their conversations as a result. His friend was rather quick to spot something amiss in any situation - probably why he was stuck in Intel.

"Well, no, I probably wouldn't trust him, but that said, the same was the case with the Marquis during and after the Occupation, and they were just about allies where Bajorans are concerned. Same with the Federation during the Dominion war, or at least, what was left of them, I should say."

Saul paused for a moment, as his attention was once again dissolved momentarily.

The source of the distraction at the other table was a Trill woman. Tall, trim, and blonde; with her hair pulled up in a tight bun. She was wearing an even tighter fitting uniform. Her attention was occupied by a PADD, and a colorless cocktail at her elbow. She would sip one and skim the other in intervals.

He gazed for a moment at the nearby table before proceeding. "Wha? Ummm... I don't understand how Dobryin agreed to have him back, I would've told SFI Personnel branch that I rather have a hole in my manifest than a stray officer."

Miramon chuckled, not noticing Saul's distracted tone. "Well, why didn't you?"

The Bajoran waited silently for a reply, then noticed the direction of Saul's gaze, and abruptly turned around to see what exactly was distracting the Terran. He wasn't overly surprised to see a trim female sitting, surprisingly since Saul was in the room, alone reading something. All in all, Miramon was only surprised that Saul's jaw wasn't languishing open and his eyes bulging on the outside of his head.

"You know, it's rumoured that when a person stares too long, their vision becomes distorted. Wanna refocus there a minute, pal?"

"What? Oh, sorry." Saul smiled sheepishly. "I've been doing that to you the entire evening, wasn't I? I apologize. It's just that... well, she's stunningly beautiful, isn't she? And has an aura of... niceness about her... plus, with a blue collar she must be a doctor or a scientist, so she must be intelligent. What more can an Intel officer ask for?"

Miramon gave a moments thought to this one, then smiled cunningly." Well...aura of nicety or not, I'm willing to bet she's more of a firebrand than you think. Besides, look at her neck - she's Trill. Think about it."

"So what if she's a Trill?" Saul eyed the Bajoran. "I think spots are hot. And just think where they continue after the neck..."

Miramon rolled his eyes. "Trill are a joined species, remember? If she's got herself a symbiont, she's likely intellectually older than both of us put together, and then some. And more than possible, she's had a male host before. Think of THAT, man."

"That last part gives me the creep - but I have no problem with older women." Saul retorted with a nasty chuckle.

As the two men discussed the young Trill's potential in a relationship, a Bolian waiter approached her table. Miramon and Saul watched as she ordered another drink. She smiled. And it was a youthful, and vibrant smile. It brought out the attractiveness of her features a lot better than the colder lack of expression with which she had been studying her PADD.

The Bolian scurried away, to fill her order. And Tizarin Lias, the Trill woman, returned to her reading.

"So, what I'm I supposed to do with...that?" Saul asked, gesturing at her. All of the sudden he looked to Miramon more like a young teenager than a mature and cunning Intelligence officer.

"Well, given that you turned down a perfectly cute engineer at one point, and spent several minutes ogling the Valkyrie's bridge hologram, why don't you do the gentlemanly thing for a change and go introduce yourself?"

Saul ignored the comment about Dhani, but made a mental note to go look for the beautiful Engineer. So many stunning female officers, so little time...

"What, like, go over to her table and say 'Hi, I'm Saul Bental, I think you're beautiful'? Isn't it a little childish, and would achieve nothing but to humiliate me?"

"Yes, exactly. Go do that. She's probably heard it all before – like you said, she's cute but, as I said, she's Trill. And I doubt she'll have much sympathy for a guy that is happy to sit there ogling her but not brave enough to go and say hi. Besides, you're an officer. Supposed to have some backbone."

"Put me against the scum of the universe and see what kind of backbone I have!" Saul protested. "I'll... I'll... I'll gather quality intelligence on them and blackmail their mama!"

The Bajoran chuckled at that, but tapped a finger on the table authoratively. "Against the scum of the universe, Saul Bental can do pretty much anything, but as with all males of his species, he'sreduced to an everyday guy by a female. Prove me wrong?"

"OK, I'm actually going to do this." All of the sudden, Saul felt as though someone painted a line on his back using a brush made of liquid nitrogen. He literally shivered.

Then, he came up with an idea. He went over to the replicator, muttered some access codes, and returned to Miramon after a minute.

"In order to not make a fool out of myself, we're going to try a trick I read about in some old Earth play. Basically, I have this earphone..." Saul showed Miramon something that looked like a skin-colored patch, then attached it beneath his ear. "And this transmitter, which you're going to keep. Basically, you'll hear anything we speak, and you'll be able to 'whisper into my ear once I start making a fool out of myself. All right?"

Miramon looked somewhat stunned, but nodded. "Right, sure. Whatever you say." He held the transmitter in his right hand, looking at it carefully, but nodded at Saul. "Off you go."

"Thanks man!" Saul tapped on Miramon's shoulder, then cheerfully headed for Tizarin's table, much like cattle striding toward the butcher's house.

As soon as Saul was out of range, the Bajoran took the small transmitter and closed his hand tightly around it, crushing the transmitter's main receiver so he couldn't receive any messages. He smiled lightly, muttering under his breath. "Oops, did I do that?"

As Saul reached her table, he thought of an opening line. It was extremely stupid, of course, but he was in an extreemly stupid mood - otherwise he wouldn't have the guts to try this.

"Shalom there. I'm sure that there must be SOME Starfleet directive against beautiful women sitting alone in mess halls. Mind if I join?"

Tizarin looked up from her PADD. Her small eyes squinted even smaller, but she smiled. "Shalom ? I've heard that before. From Commander Ishmael. An officer at my last posting. Um... sure. G'head. Have a seat."

"Thank you.", Saul said, and flashed a brief smile toward the nearby table where an amused Miramon was discretly watching.

"Oh, and thank you, by the way." Tizarin said.

"You are most welcome."

"The 'beautiful' comment." Tizarin replied. "I... don't hear that sort of thing much. So, thank you. My name's Tizarin by the way. Tizarin Lias. Doctor Tizarin Lias- I'm with medical. Yourself ?"

"Saul Bental, Intelligence." Saul hesitated for a moment, not sure if that's the right thing to do, then extended his arm shyly.

Tizarin took it and shook his hand. Her grip was firmer than he had expected; indicative of a rougher, more "tom-boyish" lifestyle. "Pleased to make your acquaintance." the Trill said, smiling.

It was a race against the clock. With each passing millisecond, Saul's mind searched for something to say. Each idea was filtered for offensive or boring content, and some faded before even getting a form. All in all, the Intelligence Officer was embarassed and a little at loss of words.

After a second as long as eternity, he asked. "What are you reading?"

"Medical reports." Tizarin said. "I'm the new kid on the block. Well, one of them anyway. And, so I get all the sprained ankles, tummy aches, and hangovers. Including three guys from tactical who came down with an accute case of Chili Poisoning."

"Sounds like a shore leave gone bad." Saul chuckled. "Is there any way to find out who messed with their Chili? Like, a toxin commonly used by a specific race or culture?"

"Oh, no. They didn't actually get poisoned." Tizarin said. "They just ate too much chili with oto many jalpeno peppers. Too hot, and spicy for their un-trained bellies. I love spicy food, but it has to be eaten in moderation. So... you're a spy, huh ?"

"Even better - I'm the guy the spies work for." Saul retorted.

"Are you spying on me ?" Tizarin asked.

Saul's face reddened. He didn't need a mirror to see the blush, he could feel it. "Well, ummm... no, we..." He had to consciously order his body to breath and his heart rate to slow down. "Well, I did a rookie Intelligence officer's mistake, and didn't collect enough data before charging into the scene without a plan. Perhaps I should've used signal interception or Human intelligence to find out important details such as who are your friends or what you enjoy doing on your spare time."

He shook his head, pretending to be disappointed of himself. "Alas, I'm a terrible Intelligence officer. Thank goodness my department has reliable NCOs to cover for my mistakes."

Tizarin leaned back in her chair, and laughed. Not at Saul, actually, but simply because she thought it all sounded very amusing. And ironic. It wasn't unlike the initiate institute to send someone to spy on her. And the fact that Bental was a spy, but scoping her out for his own interests was, somehow, comforting.

"Well, let me see if I can help you." she replied to him. "I'm new here, so most of my friends are elsewhere- on other ships, except for Madison. "

"Don't know him. Did he come to the ship with you?"

"Well, in a way. We came aboard at the same time. Madison is a girl. An Ambassador's daughters. She's a civilian liaison" Tizarin paused a moment, and seemed to be collecting her thoughts. "As to hobbies, I'll try anything once. But, I like water sports most of all- swimming, skin diving, that sort of thing."

She leaned forward, balancing her round chin on the backs of her hands, as she laced her fingers. "What about you ? You look a fine, strapping lad as they say- what do you like to do besides look at me ?"

It took Saul a moment to recover from her last comment, but his mind managed to process what she said just before that - about the water sports. "I love water sports as well! Actually, I like to sail. Just give me anything that can move on water, and I'm a happy spy. But I dislike the sailing simulations the holodeck has to offer. No matter how good they're programmed, it's not the real thing..."

"I have to agree." Tizarin said. "The lakes on Trill are far better. Maybe we can take in a holoprogram together sometime. I do know a few tweaks that make some of them more realistic. The whitewater rafting programs, for example...."

And that's when things began to go awfully wrong.

"What a Trilling Experience" Part II

Ensign Miramon Terrik,
Flight Control Officer

Ensign Tizarin Lias,
Medical Officer Ensign

Saul Bental,
Intelligence Officer

* * *

As Saul and Tizarin were talking about white-water rafting, Miramon took a moment or two to simply lip read what the Trill was saying, but other than that, wasn't following the conversation either way. Undoubtedly Saul was doing his level best - which admittedly was quite amusing - to try and woo the medical officer - or was it science officer? One could never really tell with these uniform colours. Yellow for Engineering and Operations, Teal for Medical and Science - the only really reliable colour aboard was the black of Intel. At least you knew precisely who you were talking to when you saw that colour.

Smiling archly, the Bajoran stood up and headed over to the bar for a cold glass of Iced Tea - refreshments to keep him going while he watched what he was archly considering the 'entertainment'. He couldn't wait to see how this one panned out - unless the Trill was more amenable than she looked, and gave in, undoubtedly Saul would be the butt end of several rather amusing conversations running around the Bridge staff from hereon in.

In the corner of his eye, Saul noticed Miramon walking away. Even though the pilot hadn't used the earphone device to whisper anything in Saul's ear even once, Saul felt somewhat confident because he knew the Bajoran was eavsdropping and could save him if he does anything tremendously stupid. Saul turned his head sharply in the direction of the bar, panicking at the possibility of being abandoned with the very attractive Trill.

It was, of course, a mistake.

The movement was so sharp that the earphone was detached from its location behind Saul's ear, and dropped like an olympic diver until finally splashing into the pool - or rather, into Tizarin's drink.

Saul's eyes widened in horror. The Trill's narrowed in bafflement. "What was that ? Something just fell in my drink." she put the glass up close to her face, trying to find what it was. "If that was a bug or something, I'm going to have a serious talk with the lounge keeper. I know Starships are pretty damned sterile, but I'm a doctor- I like it that way."

Saul's jaw moved several times, but he was still stunned. He glanced toward the bar in distress, but Miramon was nowhere to be seen.

Tizarin was poking around in her drink, with two fingers. And she found what she was hunting for. A small device, snaller than the ice that was floating in her drink. "What is this thing ? A Borg mosquito ?" she looked up at Bental; "Did this fall out of your head, somehow ? What's going on here !?"

"Oh! That's mine... we did an experiment with this SFI mini robot, and I was SURE we shut it down... Naaien... It must've followed me all the way here, the little bugger."

Of course, the thing didn't look as though it could fly. It had a mollecular bonding strip on one side, and the other side was skin-colored and metallic without any wings protrouding from it.

"I should be going back to the Intel CIC to fix this... may I?" Saul asked, openning his palm.

Tizarin looked the device over. And then she looked from Bental's open hand, to his face. She gave him a sort of crooked grin. "You know... I saw something similar to this in medical school. But... the application of the device was not..." to Bental's surprise she took his listening device and pushed it into her own ear, "... spying."

Miramon noted the Trill picking something out of her drink - a very familiar looking device. He theatrically sighed and put his hand over his eyes with the sheer amusement of it. Saul was gonna have trouble getting out of this one. He walked slowly over to the table, trying to keep from laughing, thankfully catching onto what the Trill said last.

"You were, what.... spying on me, somehow, before you came over here ?" Tizarin's brow knitted. "What the hell is going on here ?" she tapped the device in her ear. She couldn't hear anything but random background noise. "Hello !?" then she locked eyes with Bental. "Is there someone else on the other end of this ?"

Well, of course there is, good lady. Mr Bental here works for Intel, so he's always carrying a microphone transponder so he can be contacted without, shall we say, overt use of the commlink. Miramon Terrik, Flight Control. Pleasure to meet you."

Saul buried his head in his hands. Luckily for him, Tizarin was looking at Miramon for the moment, and didn't notice.

"Oh, HELLO Miramon!" Saul said. "You must've noticed that the EMERGENCY link was down and came ALL THE WAY down to TEN FORWARD to see if anything WRONG happened, being the pilot temporarily ATTACHED to my department's missions for the journey to Trill. Well, everything's under CONTROL, you can LEAVE now."

He took a deep yet quick breath, not giving Miramon a chance to blow his transparent lie, and glanced at Tizarin. "Speaking of which, Tizarin, you must be excited to return home!"

Tizarin looked from Bental to Miramon, and back again. "Your Bajoran friend doesn't have to leave... if he doesn't want to." she said, smiling. "G'head. Sit down, Mr. Miramon. Have a drink. I am anxious to see my homeworld again, let's have a drink to that, huh ?"

Tizarin hadn't fully bought in to Miramon's explanation. She had her suspicions. And she was going to play a game on these fellows and see how far it would go.

"Let's." she heard Saul said. The man was visibly relieved with the change of subject, and by her moderate reaction. It also seemed that once she accepted Miramon, Saul appeared relaxed and not threatened.

The Trill watched Saul carefully. She had a fair idea of what was going on here. She had never heard of an Intel agent being required to carry a small communication device at all times. And her last host had been a Federation ambassador. Someone who worked with Intel on a daily basis.

The way it worked out in her mind was that Bental had been using that ear device for some personal, covert reason. And she had a feeling she had been the intended target, somehow. But, Saul seemed harmless enough, as did his Bajoran friend, So, Tizarin felt she would have a little fun with them, just to teach them a little lesson.

She called the waiter over to their table again. "Bring three of the strongest thing you have." she ordered, brazenly.

"The trip to your home seems like a milk-run. I guess someone decided we need some more rest after the battle several months ago." Saul told the doctor. He sipped from the orange juice he ordered.

"I was thinking about another shore leave." he flashed a smirk at Miramon, resisting a childish urge to wink. "This time, no messing up with crooks or with relatives. Tizarin, are there any Historic sites worth a visit? Underwater sites would be great."

"Well, you could always see where the symbionts are bred." the doctor replied. "That would be in the caves of Mak'ala."

Miramon nodded. "I've heard of them. Dark and very mysterious - it's said that few non-Trill ever get to see them. Especially with your symbiont programme being as secretive as we've heard."

"It's not too hard to get in- if you know someone. It's a place I intend to take Madison when we arrive." Tizarin said. The waiter arrived with their drinks, and the Trill took half of hers in one gulp. It was cold, and sweet. And the alchohol burned her throat. She did all she could to keep from coughing. "Drink up, boys !"

Miramon looked curiously at the drink placed in front of him. He knew simply from what Tizarin had asked for that it was not likely to be a mild syntheholic drink. He never really considered it good policy to drink so soon after dinner. And frankly, this didn't look or smell like normal synthehol, so he simply held the glass in one hand and swirled the drink around lightly.

"Going with Madison, hmm? You two are presumably good friends, then?"

"Madison... oh, she's my lover." Tizarin said. Her eyes fell on Bental. "Now... why don't you guys tell me what that little ear device was really for ?"

"That's confid-- wait, SHE's your LOVER?" Saul asked. He hadn't touched the drink, which was an advantage now since he would probably spit it out in a marvelous spray at that last sentence.

"Well, that seems to have stung a lot harder than the drink I ordered would have." Tizarin said. "Yes, Mr. Bental, that's what I said. And maybe I shouldn't. I'm sure Madison wouldn't want it to end up as scuttlebutt, wandering all over the ship. I'll trust you not to be the gossipy type. Probably a big favor to ask of a spy."

"SHE's?"

Tizarin placed her hands firmly on the table, her fingers spread out straight, and stiff. "Boy, you just got stuck on that 'she' part and kinda zoned, didn't you ? Did you hear *anything* of what I just said?"

Saul delivered a weak but well-directed kick to Miramon's calf, as though saying 'Get us the hell out of here, now!' without using spoken words.

Tizarin propped one arm up on the table and rested her round chin in her cupped hand. "Still wanna see Trill with me, Mr. Bental ? I'm asking honestly- I'd be happy to show the caves to both of you, but as friends. And you can leave the ear-devices at home. Unless you now need it to hear me, due to your state of shock at my little revelation."

Saul scowled. In a bitter tone, he said, "My hearing is good, Tizarin, and so is my ability to keep confidentiallity if requested. However..." he turned his head toward a couple of male officers who sat nearby, spoke and held hands, "We are in the 24th century and in the enlightened Federation, so I suppose there's nothing for you and Madison to worry about."

"I'm a doctor, Mr. Bental." Tizarin said. "I think I know a surgical procedure to remove old fashioned prejudice. It's called 'getting to know someone'. Wanna give it a try, or just sit there doing that gross-out thing ?"

Saul, who for the last minute tried to avoid her eyes, now gazed directly at them. He looked like a child who was just deeply insulted. "Living in a Democratic society means you have the liberty to have any opinion you want, including an 'old fashioned' point-of-view as you call it. But believe it or not, my judgment of people is not based only on their sexual preferences."

He took a deep breath after that short, yet inflamed speech. "So yes, I would love to see Trill with you! Just be warned. The last time I went with a crewmember to visit his homeworld, it was a rather... unusual visit."

Miramon looked slightly colder as made his own reply. It wasn't much of a long shot to ascertain who Saul had been referring to with this last piece.

"Unusual. Yeah, something like that."

Tizarin leaned back in her chair, slouching a little. It was a posture she adopted when she was annoyed. "I didn't say you had an old fashioned point of view, the word I used was prejudice. There's a difference. But, I agree- you have a right to live and think any way you want. So, if you can overlook my lifestyle, then I can overlook your opinion of it. Fair enough?"

"Well, I'm not bothered by this one, personally." The Bajoran took a sip of the drink Tizarin had ordered for them, and grimaced slightly as the drink attacked his tastebuds. "After all, how does this become out concern? We've both just met you, have we not?"

Tizarin nodded, swallowing her own sip of the drink hard. "Yeah... we just met. But it's just that Mr. Bental here seemed so put off. And I can't help but wonder what that little ear device is for." she leaned herself closer to Miramon. "Are you aware of the story of Cyrano de Bergerac ? It's an old one, from Earth."

Miramon shook his head negatively. "I'm not well versed in Earth stories, I'm afraid. If you asked me about Bajor, that'd be easier, since I'm Bajoran. Hell, I know more about Cardassian stories than Human ones, I am afraid. Care to enlighten me some time?"

"You might try a holonovel." Tizarin offered. "I think you'll understand the reference." she put her glass to her mouth, taking a long sip with her eyes firmly on the Bajoran.

"Don't know Spanish literature..." Saul replied, emptied his glass and stood up. "This chat was so interesting, I didn't notice I am already late for duty - and I need to go by the bridge before that. It was a pleasure to meet you, Tizarin, and I'm certainly going to take you on that offer."

He extended one arm, and pressed on Miramon's shoulder with the other, gently hinting him to rise up as well.

"Just look me up when we get there." Tizarin said.

"Oh, we will." Miramon replied, ignoring Saul who pulled his sleeve.

As the two of them were out of ear-shot, Saul faced the Bajoran pilot. "I can't believe she was on to me! How come a Trill knows the Cyrano de Bergerac story? I don't know any Trill stories!"

"As I told you before, the young appearance is misleading. This woman has lived several life-times, and probably was exposed to 'Spanish literature' at some point." Miramon said calmly.

"It's not Spanish. It's the earth play I got my idea from - a story where there's a guy who makes a move on a woman and another guy who whispers in his ear and tells him what to do. Sound familiar? That remind me, you..." Saul hissed, almost bumping into a Deltan Petty officer. "You could've helped instead of leaving me alone with that... that woman!"

"As you saw, it wouldn't have helped you anyway. The woman's taken."

Saul shook his head, desperately. He looked very miserable for a moment, but then he began to laugh.

"I just don't understand it."

OOC: A backpost of sorts, set shortly after Lt. London arrived aboard ship, and before everyone started "nexusing"

"The Required Medical Exam"

by
Ensign Tizarin Lias- Medical Officer

1st Lieutenant Branwen London- Marine Psychologist

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

"Ma'am, am I in the right place for my physical. Branwen stood to attention the marine way. She was still learning her way around the huge ship. "Second lieutenant, Branwen London reporting." She announced in her thick Welsh accent.

Tizarin turned from the monitor she had been studying, and smiled. "Doctor Tizarin Lias; pleased to meet you, Lieutenant. Yes, if you'll just hop up on that biobed over there, we'll get this over with as soon as possible."

"Thank you ma'am." She did as she was told obediently. Bran knew very well that this was the safest option with doctors. If you did what they wanted, they wouldn't hurt you much.

Tizarin took a medical tricorder and ran it over the other woman's body. She made the traditional humming sounds that doctors always seemed to make when they first got a look at a patient. "Looks like you've had a rough time of it. I'm detecting lots of scar tissue, and evidence of several broken bones. I guess you've seen a lot of action ?"

"No ma'am, I am just out of the academy."Bran really hated to talk about her violent past.

"Do you have any special information that is not listed in your medical records- allergies, immunities to medications, anything like that ?" Tizarin offered her a smile. Sometimes her bedside manner was a bit frosty, and she was trying to curb that as best she could. Her time with Madison was helping her to become more social, and thereby more sociable.

"Not that I know, ma'am." Bran said softly.

"Other than the fact that you've obviously been knocked around.... a lot, you seem to be in top shape." Tizarin said. "I just need to run a few basic tests, and then I officialy certify you for duty. And that wont be a problem."

"Thank you, ma'am."Bran finally smiled.

Tizarin put her tricorder down on the bed, next to Branwen. "I do have a question. Purely medical, and if you don't want to answer, alright. But, I feel I need to ask anyway: you say you're fresh from the Academy, and I'm sure that's true. And I haven't been a medical officer in the field very long myself. But the injuries you've received- broken bones- some of them broken more than onece... torn muscle tissues that healed, but obviously didn't get the best medical care. And the general scarring. I'd be willing to bet Captain M'Kantu hasn't sustained that many injuries, and he's been in Starfleet a lot longer than either of us."

Bran got defensive again. "It's healed hasnt'it? I am fit for duty right? It was a long time ago."

"Well, what I'm saying is that these injuries are consistent with what I'd expect from a combat veteran." Tizarin said. "But... you're clearly not that. I'm asking you to tell me how you got so beat up. If you don't want to, I can't and wont force you. But, if you do, let's just say I'd be honored that you'd trust me. You can turst me. I wont repeat anything told to me in confidence by a patient."

Bran watched her. "You promise not to tell anyone?"

"I promise." Tizarin said. "On both a personel, and professional level."

"My sister told me to expect this. She is XO on the Resolution, a naval officer. Doctors wanted to know everything. I grew up in a society that usead physical punishment on children. My dad and some of my brothers would break bones and stuff when I was bad. Shanna rescued me when I was fourteen. I have never been back. So you see, it has been a long time and it all healed."

Tizarin's eyes never left her patient, as she listened to Branwen. "I... I almost can't believe it. That any society could treat their children that way." she said. "The injuries you received, they are as severe as any injuries one could receive on a battle field. I'm surprised you survived. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I escaped. And it isn't your fault, ma'am."

"You're physicaly fit for duty. Like I said, I just need to run some basic tests- formalities. An eye test, and that sort of thing." Tizarin said. "We can do it in about 10 minutes. I might be able to correct some of the scar tissue, in your old wounds, if you would want that. Do you have any external scarring ?"

"Sure I have. But why should I want to change anything?" The young woman asked puzzled.

"Well, for one thing, if you had some of the scar tissue repaired, you probably wouldn't have another nosy doctor, asking you quite as many questions in the future." Tizarin smiled at the Marine.

"Beg your pardon, but doctors are always nosy. I have nothing against you personally, I just don't trust your profession. Our local doctor helped my father so I would have the most amount of pain from my injuries. I know Starfleet doctors are different, and as a psychologist I know the prejudice is just in my mind. Yet it is difficult to make the switch completely. So I try to spend as little as time here as possible. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I do. I think I'd probably hate so much as the utterance of the word, doctor, if someone did to what has been done to you." Tizarin said. At least part of her could not believe what she was hearing. It went against everything that the medical profession stood for. Not just in Starfleet. All medical practicioners took an oath- on Earth it was called the "hypocratic oath". But they all had an oath, of one kind or another, no matter where one learned to practice medicine.

And they all said essentially the same thing- that a doctor's duty is to heal the sick. Not to help brutal torturers make their torture craft more horrible.

Tizarin bit he rlip, and blinked her eyes to hold back her emotion. "I'll get you out of here as soon as possible, ok ?" she said to Branwen. "And... if you ever need a doctor... I'll make a housecall." she smiled as she folded up her tricorder.

"Thank you. That's very thoughtful of you doctor." Bran said smiling. "I think I will learn to trust you. And I'm not afraid to come here or something when I'm injured. Next time is that happens I will ask for you." She said with trust.

"Thank you... I'm honored." Tizarin smiled. "Now... let's get those tests finished." she smiled, and put a hand, gently, on Branwen's shoulder.

"Okay ma'am." Bran said leaning back on the bed.

(OOC: Slight backpost—meant to occur two or three days before Christmas.)

“A Small Gift”

by

Ens. Tarin Iniara, Operations

Ens. Aristi Ferguson, Flight Control (APC)

Aristi paced rhythmically around her quarters, obscenely yellow ducky slippers muffling any sound her footfalls may have caused. Her heavy tartan blanket lay draped about her shoulders like a cape, covering a matched set of flannel pajamas that clashed horribly with the aforementioned blanket and slippers.

“Lord in Heaven, how cold I am!” she lamented to the empty room, stomping her feet on the ground in an attempt to keep the blood flowing. Of course, the temperature aboard ship and specifically in her quarters was almost always constant, but it just *felt* colder. Suddenly she wished for a roaring fire and a steaming mug of hot cocoa to chase away the chills. The cocoa was doable; the fire, however…

“Cold?” Aristi spun around just in time to see the doors shut behind her roommate, who was standing there wearing what Aristi had come to know as the ‘Confused Iniara’ look. Of course, ‘Confused Iniara’ wasn’t much different from ‘Angry Iniara’ or ‘Happy Iniara’ or even ‘Default Iniara’, but there were subtle differences she was learning to distinguish.

“Hello?” Confused Iniara was now waving a hand in her face. “Anybody home?”

Pushed out of her momentary reverie, Aristi resumed her pacing. “Sorry. It’s just this cold…”

“The environmental controls are operating normally.” Iniara sniffed the air experimentally, trying to determine if the room’s air temperature might have been lower than normal.

“I know, but I’ve just got this chill in me. I think it’s December blahs.”

Confused Iniara slowly morphed into an upgrade, Puzzled Iniara. “December…blahs?”

“Aye, back home it’s so very cold this time of year. I love the Christmas season, but I’d much prefer a slightly warmer time of year for it to occur. Or perhaps to celebrate the holiday in Tahiti…”

“Christmas. That’s the human festival—“

“Celebrating the birth of Jesus over two thousand years ago.”

“I thought it was about exchanging gifts or something.”

“That too. It was originally a religious festival, but over the years it’s taken on a much more universal meaning.”

“Ah.”

“Don’t you celebrate something similar?”

“Not really.”

“Unbelievable. No day where you spend time with family, catch up on things, give gifts, that sort of thing?”

“Well, yes. Festivals like that do exist, both on Bajor and on Betazed. But I stopped celebrating them long ago.”

“Oh.” The slight twinge of irritation in Iniara’s voice gave Aristi pause. She wondered if she had struck a nerve that was better left alone.

“I got you a small gift, I hope you don’t mind…” Considering the surprise she had in store for her roommate, Aristi figured it wouldn’t really be possible to turn back now.

“I see.”

“Hold on, let me get it.” Aristi disappeared into her room; rummaging sounds could be heard shortly after. Meanwhile, Iniara took a moment to remove her uniform jacket and boots, placing them in her own room.

“Found it—hey, where’d you go?”

“In here.” Aristi padded across their small common room toward the sound of her roommate’s voice.

“I hope you like it. Here.” She held out a small white box, completely devoid of decoration. Nervous, her pulse began to accelerate as Iniara examined the package, then opened it slowly.

Inside sat a small white card, folded in the middle. Iniara was just as surprised to see actual handwritten language on the card as she was to see it written in Betazoid. It read:

Iniara—

It’s always good to have family that cares, even when we can’t always be together. We miss you very much—all of us. Take care of yourself.

Kaeylia

Iniara closed the card, looking to her roommate for some explanation. Aristi merely smiled, gesturing with one blanket-covered hand. “Go ahead. See what else there is.”

Iniara set aside the card and slowly pulled another object from the box. Unwrapping it deliberately she revealed a small hinged photo frame. Her jaw dropped as she opened the frame to reveal two holophotos held inside.

“This is…”

Iniara trailed off as she examined the photos more closely. The first showed a group of three people: an older woman with a serious expression, a second woman who could have been Iniara’s twin if not for her bright strawberry blonde hair, and a young man who bore a strong resemblance to them both. The second photo also showed the young man, this time with his arm around a woman holding a young child.

“Glydias?” She looked back to Aristi. “How did you…?”

“I served with your sister some years ago. We still keep in touch. It took me a while to make the connection between you two but…” She paused, trying to gauge Iniara’s reaction. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Iniara shook her head slowly, more in disbelief than anything. “It’s just been so long.” She sighed, thinking how best to explain. “I spent so many years alone, keeping my head down and pushing my way through life as best I could. Some things…some people just got left behind. And now here they are staring right back at me.”

She set the frame carefully on her desk, never taking her eyes off it. “I’m not sure how to feel.”

And for probably the first time in her life, Aristi was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Thank you.” Iniara embraced her roommate suddenly, throwing the taller woman off guard. After a moment Aristi reciprocated, squeezing Iniara tightly. Her heavy blanket slipped off her shoulders, falling quietly to the floor. Suddenly she no longer felt cold.

“Merry Christmas, Iniara.”

“Merry Christmas.”

2020