"It Couldn't Hurt"

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineer

Nara decided to make an excuse to go into the Jeffries Tubes. They reminded her of her caves back on Sakaria. As she crawled to a console and opened it, she took out a tricorder and scanned it. While looking at the readouts, she found herself smiling remembering the caves she hadn't seen since a shoreleave back home when she was 13.

Suddenly she saw a rock in her hand. She knew it was another memory jump. She let it be though. She smiled and leaned against the stone cave a moment. Here was peaceful. No Saul to be confused about. No war or never-ending peace talks that kept her parents apart. No weird creature messing with their minds.

She then found herself back in the tube. She sighed as mist formed in her eyes. It felt nice, but instinctively she knew it was dangerous. She wanted to just sink into it and live in her memories, so long as she kept on the good ones.

One couldn't live in memories though. One must move on in life and let memories be used to create who you are, not as a crutch or means to stop living.

She crawled out of the tube, and continued working. She would deal with Saul. She just wasn't sure how.

"Faking it"

Ella Grey
Karyn Dallas

***

She smiled at the woman. So far, she had not been making good on the promise to herself- not to let anyone suspect that anything was wrong- and this was one of the people she had to fool.

*HOW ARE YOU DOING TODAY, KARYN?* Ella typed.

Dallas met the familiar opening line with the familiar return. Upon close inspection, perhaps her smile was not as bright as it usually was. Maybe Grey would be able to fool the one who so desperately needed to fool others. Maybe not. "You first."

Ella arched a brow but shrugged as she moved to the couch. *WELL, I'M CONCERNED ABOUT VICTOR, OF COURSE. NO ONE SEEMS TO KNOW WHERE HE WENT.*

She noticed the counselor's attempt to hide her discomfort and she decided to give the woman a break. *AND GETTING USED TO THE NEW SHIP HAS BEEN A CHALLENGE BUT OTHERWISE I'M DOING FINE*

Karyn nodded, seemingly considering Grey's words thoughtfully before getting directly to the point. She knew Ella would respect that. "Are you sure it's just stress? I could swear you've been avoiding me. That's not like you, Ella, at least not anymore."

Ella made a pouty face. *WHY WOULD I EVER AVOID OUR MEETINGS, DALLAS. I LIVE AND BREATHE FOR THEM*

"As you should," Karyn deadpanned, reminded of how much she had missed her sessions with Ella. Grey may have had issues to deal with, but she had a good attitude about things and that was half the battle.

Ella forced herself to laugh and was amazed at how clear and yet hollow it sounded.

Karyn naturally recognized the forced joviality and used it as an opportunity to address the issue again. "You're faking it."

She didn't quite freeze but there was a definite pause. *WHAT MAKES YOU SAY THAT?*

And instead of the carefully crafted answer she had prepared in advance, she found herself speaking without thinking things through. "Because it's what I do when I don't want others to worry about me, when I want to convince myself that I'm fine. It's what a lot of people do," she quickly amended.

Ella considered before she answered. *ISN'T IT FUNNY HOW EASILY ONE CAN FALL BACK INTO OLD PATTERNS, DALLAS? I USED TO CARE A GREAT DEAL ABOUT MAKING OTHERS FEEL COMFORTABLE.*

Karyn found herself smiling at the thought. "And now you don't?"

She smiled. *WOKE UP ONE MORNING AND IT JUST WASN'T AN ISSUE ANYMORE.*

Dallas chuckled. "Spoken like a true feminist engineer. Gloria Steinem would be proud. However, making others comfortable is in my job description, so..."

Ella tried not to look to obvious when she wrote the next question. *DOES VICTOR STILL SCARE YOU?*

Fortunately for Karyn, she was looking down at a PADD containing the notes from Ella's last session when the question was asked. Unfortuately for Karyn, however, she had reviewed her notes at least three times before Ella had arrived and now couldn't even fake non-chalnce if she tried. At least now she could talk about what happened without exactly being launched into the past all over again. Perhaps it was simply that Victor was no longer aboard.

Karyn sighed. She had to know that Victor would tell Ella what had happened between them. Now it was simply a matter of figuring out how to deal with it. "Ella, I really don't think now is the time to talk about this. We're here to talk about your adjustment." Dallas returned to her PADDS, this time determined that when she looked up, she would be back in control. She fought to push away her annoyance.

Ella tried not to bite her lip. *DO YOU EVER BLAME YOURSELF FOR PUTTING YOURSELF IN THE SITUATION? I'M NOT TRYING TO BE HURTFUL, DALLAS, I'M JUST CURIOUS.*

And before she could catch herself, before she could even think, her eyes flashed with anger. It was like watching a match ignite a pile of dried leaves. One moment her memories werebehind her and the next, a spark had triggered all of her raw emotion. "Why, Ella? Because you're taking a poll? Because you think I should have known better?" Her body ran hot and cold, tingling.

Ella wanted to wince, knowing that she had asked too quickly. Of course she was trying to compare her counselor's experience with her own, that was classic psychology, but she had hoped she would be more subtle about it.

And Karyn explosion definitely mirrored some of her own thoughts. On the desert planet, should Ella herself have known better? *I'M JUST CURIOUS.*

Karyn's breathing was coming hard and fast, as if she had just run a marathon. The only thing keeping her in the moment was her grip on the PADDS she had in her lap. Ella's last words finally echoed in her mind, and when she finally realized where she was, she felt sick to her stomach. "I..I can't...I can't do this right now. I think you should go." Inside she was screaming. What the hell had she just done? The room began to spin and the enormity of what had just happened hit her. "Oh God..."

Ella knew she could have pushed it. It would have been so easy; the woman was ready to crack. She could have easily done it.

Maybe that was why she didn't. Maybe she was still at heart the weak girl she had once been around her parents and fiancee. She sighed.

Ella left her seat and helped Karyn lay down. ~~Breathe.~~ she signed. When the woman shook her head in confusion, Ella mimicked the movement.

Karyn resisted Ella's attempts to help her to lie flat and instead leaned forward to puther head between her legs. *Brilliant, Kar, just brilliant.* Dallas needed her to go, but she also wanted her to stay so that she could explain, somehow. Karyn wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to simply lose it and have her moment. But it wasn't going to happen, and when the room stopped spinning and she could finally sit up, Ella was looking at her with concern and composing a message as if nothing had happened. Karyn wanted to die of shame.

*I'VE BEEN HAVING A HARD TIME LATELY, DALLAS* Ella wrote, which was true. She had to give the woman something, she'd decided. *I KEEP REMEMBERING MY ATTACKER WHEN I WAS A KID. IT COMES AT ODD TIMES AND I HAVE TROUBLE SHAKING THE FEELING* This wasn't exacly a lie, she told herself.

*I JUST WANTED TO KNOW HOW YOU DEALT WITH IT, THAT'S ALL. BUT I GUESS I DON'T HAVE TO ASK ANYMORE, DO I?*

Dallas was at a complete loss for words. She couldn't run, she couldn't hide, and she couldn't lie her way into thinking that she was pulling it all off. The pure and simple fact was Ella Grey knew. She knew. The only question that remained was how she was going to handle things now.

Karyn sighed. Her defenses plowed through, all that was left was honesty. In a voice that was barely above a whisper, her jaw trembling with restrained emotion and her forehead creased with deliberate concentration, she answered, "I'm faking it too, Ella."

Ella frowned. She usually didn't like to think of it as faking, only delaying the inevitable. She sat back and tapped her fingers on the computer PADD as she debated. Finally-

*PERHAPS IT'S BETTER IF I FIND ANOTHER COUNSELOR, DALLAS. I ALWAYS END UP HURTING YOU. I GUESS I CARE MORE ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE'S COMFORT LEVELS THAN I THOUGHT. MAYBE I SHOULD TRY THAT BRANNWEN? SHE ALWAYS LOOKS AT ME WITH THAT HOPEFUL 'I'LL SAVE THAT YOUNG GIRL'S SOUL YET' EXPRESSION.*

Outwardly she remained exactly as she was, but inside she felt as though she'd been slapped. Hard. She was angry, but only at herself. When had her feelings ever been allowed into the therapeutic relationships she had with others? The *last* thing, the bloody *last* thing her clients should worry about was her feelings. The shame practically left her unable to speak, and the irony of that was not lost on her.

Karyn smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, Ella. I've brought you into a very old fight and I've no right to hurt *you* as I have. If you like, I can arrange for you to see someone else. Either way, I think I've done enough damage today."

Ella frowned. *WHAT DAMAGE IS THAT, DALLAS? ALL YOU'VE SHOWN ME TODAY IS THAT YOU'RE HUMAN. IT'S A BIT OF A RELIEF ACTUALLY, ALTHOUGH, AS YOUR PATIENT I DO HAVE TO SUGGEST THAT YOU SEEK OUT SOME HELP.*

She wanted to smile or laugh, to do *anything* to save face and get rid of the embarrassment she felt, but it was not to be. "I think you're right, Ella," she replied quietly. Karyn expected to feel relief. How long had others been telling her the same thing? How long had she known she couldn't go on like this? But it wasn't the words that finally got to her... Maybe she was sick and tired of being sick and tired. "But there's still the matter of your sessions, Ella. I need to arrange for you to see someone. Am might be able to take a referral.

The engineer shrugged. *WHY DON'T WE TALK ABOUT IT LATER? I DON'T HAVE ANY PRESSING PSYCHOLOGICAL ISSUES RIGHT NOW SO I'LL BE FINE GOING WITHOUT FOR A FEW WEEKS. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.*

And this time Karyn managed a weak smile, although the embarrasment was still hard to hide. "I still have to arrange for you to speak to someone should you need to, Ella. I hope very much to continue our work together, but in the meantime, I need to put your needs first, something you quite effectively and gently reminded me of. I should hope it won't take weeks to regain my focus, but you have the right to pick the counselor you'd like to see."

She had hoped she would have at least gotten a free pass from psych 101 for awhile but, seeing as she did care somewhat about Dallas and Branwenn would be fun to mess with, Ella nodded. *IF YOU SAY SO, KARYN.*

"Nice try, Ella. You don't get a free pass either, and Bran may be new, but I'll be checking on you."

Ella smiled and it felt as fake as ever. *WHATEVER YOU WANT, DALLAS.*

"The Best Defense Is Offense”

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell
Ensign Saul Bental

Nara needed to talk to Saul. She wasn't sure what about.

The bomb?

She'd pretty much talked the bomb to death, and maybe it was time to let that go.

The fact that she thinks she might have feelings for him, like Miramon is telling her she should do?

If he really liked Bran, then he would likely not care how SHE felt about him. If he didn't like Bran, then did she even want to consider being involved with someone who would lead someone on like that? He would likely lead her on as well.

What his intentions with Bran are?

That was the question.

It was about making sure Bran would be ok with him.

She hit the chime on his door, holding her emotions in check. Whatever emotions she had at the moment. She sure as heck didn't know.

"Come in."

Naranda entered the room. The gymnastic machine which hung from the ceiling during her last visit was gone, and instead the walls were covered with paper notes in various sizes, and some attachable thin displays as well. They all showed various charts, which didn't make much sense at all. Some of them had planets' names; Others, commodities; and others had people's names on it. Some of the names were circled, and random arrows pointed from one circle to the other.

Saul was standing in the far corner, observing one of the notes. He seemed concentrated, and it took him several seconds before he turned around to face the visitor.

Nara was looking at the notes, pretty much forgetting her manners. Her arms had been crossed and she leaned down to look more closely at one that hung below eye level.

When Saul saw her, she could sense that he was turbulent for a moment, and then a thin smile formed on his face. "Hey, princess. You picked a bad time, I'm afraid... but it's good to see you. Come in, and pardon me in advance for the poor hospitality."

Nara was so intrigued with the notes, she had forgotten why she came and stammered a reply, "Oh, um." She looked around again, "You do seem busy." She looked at him and sighed. Somehow he always seemed to seem so vulnerable. Darn him. She still wanted to ask, but not quite yet.

Instead she decided to try to lighten his mood, "Oh, I pardoned that long ago; on my first visit." She smiled and winked as she looked at some more notes. Very curious she was. "Some Intelligence thing you can't tell me about I bet." She was just kidding, but then she remembered the hurt emotions thinking he'd never tell her ANYTHING. Personal or business.

"Yes, you can call it that." The notes were messy and sketchy enough to be unreadable by anyone who didn't know the context, so Saul wasn't concerned about Nara reading them. Besides, some of them were Intel-related, although most of them were personal. The majority of the information was based on the documents he copied in Rosenthal's trailer.

Saul decided to take the lead on the conversation, and make it as friendly as possible. He could easily guess why Nara was here, and didn't want to give the warrior daughter of the resurrected hero of Sakaria a chance to spill her Sakarian wrath on him.

"How's engineering recovering from the warp problems that tossed us all into dreamland?” he asked.

Nara was following the arrows trying to figure out why he associated them together. It made her head hurt, but curiosity is something she inherited from her parents. Curiosity was any scientist's motive and her father was a scientist. She supposed her mother was too, but she considered psychiatry more a relational job than a scientific job. She didn't look up when she heard Saul's question, but mumbled, "It wasn't a dreamland. Not really." She had started using her finger to trace where the arrows lead. Oh, she wasn't getting any closer to figuring it out, and Saul didn't seem to care, so she let her curiosity run wild.

"Did you hear about the source of the phenomenon, speaking of which?"

"I just read the broadcast log earlier. All I know is there's a freighter out there caught in a warp bubble." She continued to look at the notes.

"I sent a warning message about it to the XO and to my department head." Saul sighed. He seemed to be lost in thoughts for a moment. "I have a good reason to suspect that the ship's cargo certificates are fake, or untruthful. I just hope the message reached them before they left the ship for the away team...I have no idea if they left yet, but Dobryin went to prep herself before I left the Intelligence center and got here."

Nara wasn't quite sure what he was talking about. "The cargo we're taking to Trill?" She shook her head and looked at him intently, "I guess it's a good idea to open up the package before we let ourselves get involved in something." A double meaning she pointed at him. She somewhat enjoyed shooting the subtleties at him.

The Intelligence officer, however, seemed not to read between the lines at all.

"No, I mislead you and I apologize." Saul smiled sheepishly. "Our destination appeared to be a freighter. It is in the middle of some sort of subspace phenomenon. Me and another Intelligence analyst ran some checks on the vessel, and thanks to my partner's skills we found some suspicious details about it. As for our own cargo, I am confident security ran it through all the necessary checks."

Nara's mind caught onto the subspace phenomenon. She took a few steps absently gazing at all the little notes, "I bet that's what caused our memory jumping." She turned to Saul, "Were you ever in Branwen's?"

Saul was taken aback by that question. "Lieutenant Branwen London, you mean? Yes, actually I was. How did you know?"

She looked into his eyes, "She's my roommate."

Saul blinked. Then, something struck him. The art on the walls of Branwen's room... It was very much like the artwork he saw on Sakaria, like the artifacts sold in the Tabah cultural center where he spoke with Karoue the Sakarian.

He must be getting very rusty if he failed to make the connection before. This was not good at all.

"She came home all excited because her imaginary friend was you and how she was...” Nara was about say in love, but decided that would breach a confidence, "Happy that you said you would date her when you had time."

Just then, Saul finally realized in what a mess he was.

"I told her that I would meet her after the whole freighter deal is over, so that she would get to know who I really am." Saul shrugged, trying to reduce the importance of the word 'date'. "We met under very unique circumstances and I thought it would only be fair to come visit her afterwards."

Then, Saul recalled one of fundamental unwritten laws of strategy games: The best defense, lads and lasses, is offense.

"What do you think about it?" He inquired.

Nara looked down. "Does it matter?"

"You were the one who started talking about Lieutenant London." Saul insisted.

Nara sighed and looked at him, "You're avoiding the question." Or maybe it doesn't matter, she thought.

Saul was unsure if to push the subject or not. Regardless of his confusion toward what he felt toward her, he needed her to trust him once they reached Trill. If they will have a fight now, all the careful planning will go to waste, and both of their lives will be in imminent danger.

"Your opinion matters to me, princess, but if we don't want to talk about it, then we won't."

She looked at him strangely as he used the term we. "We? It's not really about wanting to talk about it. We need to. I need to be sure you won't hurt her." She looked down again, "I also would like to know if you do intend to date her."

"I have no intention to hurt anyone. In fact, I told Branwen not to mix me up with her childhood fantasy - if that's what you mean by 'hurting'."

Nara looked at him, "So you don't mean to lead her on?" Nara sighed and shook her head, "Poor girl." She smiled a bit, "I told her the same thing." She went back to a frown and not sure how to bring it up looked at him a moment. "Who would you want t..."

"Nara, this is leading nowhere and quite frankly, Branwen can take care of herself. I don't know what you're thinking or why you're making these inquiries, but I wouldn't like MY friends to go interrogate every person I talk with. It's almost as impolite as reading someone else's messy notes."

The interruption was caused by a moment of anger, but Saul hoped he managed to soften the edge with the last comment. He added a smile, trying to make his statement less offensive.

Nara looked at him and blushed slightly looking back down. She took a deep breath and looked at him, "I'm sorry." The words came out low and pitiful. She looked at him a moment and turned to leave.

"Hey." She felt a hand on her left shoulder, "I didn't mean it to come out like that. Guess we're all edgy because of the memory swapping and the rift. I promise you a trip to the symbiont caves once we're on Trill as compensation, how about that?"

Nara looked at him. An amused smiled escaped her lips as she felt like a child and someone was making up for disappointing her. "I'm a big girl, Saul. I'll be ok."

She turned fully to face him and looked more serious, "It wasn't really about Branwen anyway. In a way it is, but..." She sighed. She looked again at the notes. This wasn't a time for this. Not with all that was going on.

She looked at him again, "You're busy and I need to rest before going back on duty or before the red alert goes off. So we better rest when we can."

"You're right." Saul's face softened. He sighed in relief inwardly. It appeared Nara only had to blow some steam, and no damage has happened... or at least, not as much damage as the visit could've caused.

She smiled, "Maybe we can talk when we go to the symbiont caves." Nara tried to ignore the fact that there in the pools is where the symbionts mate and it's almost a romantic thing to go there with someone.

"Sure thing. That'll be nice."

Nara looked at him again and left. Once the door swooshed closed, she leaned against the wall on the side of the door. That didn’t seem to resolve anything. She felt confused and…there were butterflies in her stomach. This was not good. Not good at all. She sighed and walked down the corridor trying to forget Saul Bental and all the feelings he seemed to cause in her…good or bad.

Saul sat down on the floor of his quarters, staring at the closed door.

Behind him, another set of notes was revealed, one which was obscured from Nara's vision throughout the conversation.

The central note had only one word written on it.

'Princess'.

"Closing the list"

Ensign Saul Bental

Saul was restless.

It was a frustrating feeling, knowing that your comrades were out there risking their lives doing something which might save a nice slice of the galaxy, while you can only sit on your hands and whistle Pakled folk songs.

At first he tried to focus on work and do some good, but other than the message to Henderson and Dobryin about the potential weapons on the freighter – which he hoped that reached its target – there was not much to gain.

Then, he tried to return to his quarters and take care of his personal business plans. That required concentration, a concentration which was utterly broken by Nara's visit.

Then there was a third option – to just fall asleep, and let the events on the freighter play themselves out. He tried that for twelve full minutes before realizing that his adrenaline levels were too high, and he had enough dreams for a month anyway.

Defeated, Saul slipped into his uniform and returned to the Intelligence center.

The center was relatively quiet. A large group of people – large group meaning three people in the Intelligence department – were working on a report about the new alien species encountered, a report that would probably be complemented by Ensign Hunter's Anthropology sub-department's report, and by the Captain's report.

A couple of people sat on the communications interception console, gently adjusting the ship's sensors in order to intercept potential signals containing communications, both unencrypted and encrypted. Most of that activity was automatically taken care of by the computers, and the Intelligence officers were there only to make sure that nothing slipped; An extra pair of eyes couldn't hurt.

Saul rested his hands on the chair of one of them. "Nyoko, can I have a minute of your time?"

The Japanese ensign stood up, sticking her tongue at the console. "Noises noises! Sure, I have more than a minute."

Saul lead her to Dobryin's empty office. The chief was on the away team, he knew, and in her absence it was unclear who was leading the department. Right now the department was working on automatic gear, each person knowing exactly what is expected of him, but if anything bad happened down on the freighter – well, Saul hoped that'll remain a hypothetical case.

Saul didn't take Cora's chair. Instead, the two of them sat on the guests' chairs. Saul watched the ensign. The petite, slightly plump woman was known as the living spirit of Intel. At any time of day a passerby could hear her high-pitched voice or see her figure darting from here to there energetically. She was two years older than Saul, yet appeared even younger than him.

"You want to talk to me about this new Lily squad you and boss-woman are setting up, right?" She began without hesitation, words coming out of her mouth like a rapid volley of photon torpedoes.

"Yes, actually I do… how did you know? I only began interviewing-"

"Well – I'm an Intelligence officer who has maaaany agents and humint resources throughout the department!" She declared, crossing her arms with a smirk. "And no, I shall not reveal my sources."

Saul chuckled, "I didn't know we had an official spymaster aboard."

"Officially I'm an Intelligence analyst specializing in Military and Naval Intelligence. You know, the one who always steps on the Tactical department's toes and says 'No, you borgy fellow, the new Klingon cruiser has type XX disruptors and not type YY disruptors, and they produced fifty of the buggers and not fifty-one."

"I didn't know there were type YY disruptors…"

"That is because the information is… classified!!", Nyoko pouted at him, her twin braids dancing around her head.

"Well, let's cut to the chase."

"Let's." She said, and stood up. She approached one of the shelves, followed by Saul's eyes. From behind some of the books she pulled a box, standing on her toes to reach it. She finally managed to grab it, then placed it on Cora's table.

"They say you love strategy and war games." She told Saul. "Do you know how to play 'stratosphere'?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't call it a strategy game really…" Saul replied. He was quite intrigued.

"I have an offer. If you win, you decide whether to take me into the squad or not, and I'll accept any decision that you make. If I win, I'll make the decision, and you'll have to respect it. What say you?"

"I say you're going to have your entire fleet sunken before you finish saying 'Uncle Daren had a ship.'…"

* * * * *

The game was approaching its final steps. It was based on an old Terran game where each participant had to sink his opponent's fleet by guessing – every player in its turn – where on the battlefield was the enemy's ship placed, and 'sink' it if he guessed correctly. The 24th version was three-dimensional and more sophisticated, but it was still lotsa fun.

"Ping to D-6-sigma." Saul stated a bead of sweat landing on his nose. He had only two shuttles remaining, both of them in the lower parts of the 'stratosphere', and Nyoko was closing in on them.

*Ping successful, planetside* came the voice of the game's computer. Nyoko cursed under her breath, then played her turn. She tried to hit one of Saul's remaining subs, and missed it by a single square.

"… and then you transferred to the Galaxy? Did you have anything interesting to do on those previous posts at all?", Saul asked, making his move.

Nyoko contemplated about her next move for a moment. "Yes, my career didn't start all that well because my Academy grades were below average. They needed someone to fill the crappy posts, and that someone was me, and not the guys in the top of the class. Ah – gotcha!"

Saul's shuttle was hit. He made a nasty scowl, and quickly retorted with a hit of his own, his aim based on his ping earlier.

"Do you thing that your low grades are truly representing your level of expertise?"

"Do you actually expect a 'yes' answer to that question?", She smirked at him.

"No, but I don't expect excuses either, because you don't owe me anything. I'm just plain curious."

"Okey… let's put it this way. On the academy I decided that I'm going to concentrate on the things that interest me and that are useful to my future role, and don't pay much energy on what wasn't. I barely passed most of the classes that bored me to death and were totally unnecessary. Also, unlike all of those Academy geeks which had their nose stuck into their books and PADDs all day, I wanted to enjoy life a little and I did. I think it's unfair to ask a twenty years old girl to skip the most beautiful years of her life. Sending Torpedo to A-5-Theta."

"Ouch – there goes my shuttle. Torpedo on E-6-Sigma."

"Baka! Missed me and missed me, missed me and missed me."

"Your turn." Saul said calmly. "So basically you're saying that because you thought out of the box and had some fun instead of learning about the life habits of the Deltan rose amoeba, your career got delayed and now an officer who graduated two years after you is interviewing you to his squad."

"Boy, you make it sound so disgruntled. Argh, I missed. Well, it was a delay, but I'm not rushing anywhere and now that I'm finally on a place where I can prove myself without writing essays on amoebas, and do some real work, I'm sure I'll get that extra-pip in no time."

In the next thirty seconds, an intense exchange of virtual pings and torpedo fire took place, until finally, Saul's final shuttle caught fire and disintegrated in a blaze of holographic glory.

Saul offered her his hand. "I think it's about time you start winning, Nyoko Yurui. Will you join the Lily squad?"

She beamed at him. "Only if you promise me you'll improve your 'Stratosphere'!"

* * * * * *

To : Lieutenant J.G. Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer

From : Ensign Saul Bental, Squad Leader, Secondary Intelligence Squadron (Lily)

Subject : Personnel placement for secondary squad

Hello Cora,

I have interviewed every person in the department which was interested in joining the squadron.

I would like to have at least one commissioned officer on the squad, and to have as much diversity as possible in the two chosen members' skills.

I ranked the top five candidates – one means the top candidate, etcetera. Let me know which of those officers will be assigned to the squad.

Ensign Nyoko Yuuri

Chief Petty Officer third class Seren

Chief Petty Officer second class C'hitah

Ensign Ab gar it Novitz

Ensign Philippe Dupont

"Age conflicts"

Ensign William Warbeck, Tactical

Will Warbeck frowned with confusion as he opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. His head hurt enough to make him feel sick to the stomach, and he rolled over, stretching. It was a Saturday. Or else, his mum would have woken him up. Saturdays were his to sleep in and relax. But the sheets smelled differently somehow. He frowned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He swallowed as he looked around the room with confusion. It wasn't his room. He got out of bed quickly, tripping and falling onto the floor. Something was wrong. He stared at his hands, at the size of them. They weren't his hands, were they? He managed to stand up and ran to a mirror, staring at himself.

Only the last time he had seen himself, he had been 13 years old. And what he saw was at least a 23-year-old. He let out a scream, touching the mirror and then his own face. This wasn't him...but it was as well. He knew the jaw, the eyes, the nose...but it was all bigger. He pulled at his own ears, grimacing. At least, a part of him thought, he wasn't ugly. He'd outgrow the misplaced look.

Still, this couldn't be real. He sat down on the floor, wrapping his arms around himself as he tried to think. "This isn't happening...this is no not happening..." he swallowed, glancing nervously around. "But say it is happening..." he stood up and walked to the wardrobe, opening it. He found a pair of slightly baggy jeans and a tee shirt, frowning. "Save the trees? I'm a tree hugger?" he said, sighing before taking the clothes. He found a pair of mismatching socks, putting them on regardless. He took out a pair of boxers as well, glancing down to those he wore. Nervously, he removed them, trying not to look down. It wasn't...natural...it wasn't his own! Yet curiosity somewhat won, and he found himself glancing down. "Jesus!" he stared, a blush spreading over his face before pulling the boxers on, followed by the trousers. he went back to the mirror, looking at the chest.

It was a man's chest...a young man, maybe, but not a boy. It even had some hairs...he touched then, giggling. Giggling and then blushing deeply as it brought a completely different reaction from the body. "Oh no..." he looked down, swallowing and moving to sit on the bed. Responsive body...and this would be awkward. There was no way he was touching that. Instead, he tried to think of things to clear his mind. Like...prayers and homework. Homework would work. He thought about the English assignments, the homework his mother made for him...everything!

After a few long moments, the body calmed and he stood up, finishing getting dressed. He had no idea what to do with the face...he couldn't shave! Tears welled up in his eyes again, and he tried to wipe them away. He had to find out where he was. He swallowed before walking to what he guessed was the door. They opened, and he looked out into the corridor with confusion, before gathering his courage and walking out.

"Powder Keg"

Starring:
Captain Daren M'Kantu
Commanding Officer, USS Galaxy

Appearances by:
Airaul Taern, Tactical Officer
Tarin Iniara, Chief Operations Officer
8-Ball Hunter, Science Officer

Captain Adair, Dreshaya Interceptor Commander
Lieutenent Chassit, Interceptor Pilot
Lieutenant Zalia, Interceptor Pilot

**** USS Galaxy Main Bridge ****

The Bridge crew, thrumming about as they normally do, analyzing the telemetry of the freighter, consoles a-thrum with the oddly relaxing sounds of diagnostics and operations twittering about, were all largely ignored by the man seated in the center seat. Rather, not ignored, but tuned out by the tapping of his own fingers against the console of his command perch.

The Away Team shuttle had departed two hours previous, and no word had come since then. He told himself that is was O'Shea's advice of the warp effect interfering with communications between the two ships, but still, it did little to ease his concerns. Sending them over had been a huge risk with the lack of intelligence on the situation. There had been very little choice, though. Subspace in the region was wearing thin. Any warp motion in itself eroded them further. He did not want to think about what would occur so close to the freighter if any craft came near in high warp. It was a virtual powder keg. Thankfully, they were in a region of space with very little civilization nearby, and even less warp-capable.

"Captain! We have incoming craft on an intercept course with us." Iniara's call-out from operations snapped him out of his reverie.

"Identify, Ms. Iniara." His fingers halted their dance as he accessed ships sensors from the XO's chair, now empty with Henderson across the way.

"Unknown class... they aren't emitting any known transponder code... coming in hot at Warp 3."

"Captain, detecting fluctuations in the subspace field. Those ships, whatever they are, are going to need to drop to impulse or we're going to be in a situation." He didn't have to acknowledge T'Pol Hunter's insinuation on the 'situation' to realize the consequences were potentially explosive.

Darin leaned over Iniara, his hand coming to rest on the back of her chair.

"Send a warning on all frequencies to drop to impulse immediately due to region instability. Package sensor readings and sciences documentation in the burst."

The Bajoran/Betazoid Operations officer's fingers glided over the terminal with a speed that blurred her fingers.

"They aren't acknowledging, sir."

"Try again with all known forms of transmission. Use radio if you have to." Not that radio would get to the pilots with any due haste.

Tarin shook her head. "No response, sir."

"Captain, those craft are coming in with weapons hot!"

"Raise shields, Mr. Taern. Yellow alert." He leaned back into Iniara as she continued to raise the craft.

"Are you reading anything, Lieutenant? Any thoughts?" His gaze wandered to the freighter hanging just off their port bow. It flickered in the refracted lights of the smaller ship's running beacons against the war shields that continued to fluctuate from within the bubble. Only partial resolutions could be seen, like broken mosaic under a kaleidoscope.

Tarin's eyes focused on her console as her brows furrowed together. Her head cocked slightly to the right and a myriad of expressions fell over. Anger, resentment, determination.

"They're too far away to make out anything resolute, but I can tell you they're none too happy to find the Federation here."

"Raise the away team. Punch a signal through there any way you can."

Without waiting for an acknowledgement, Darin, picked up his pace when moving up the rear ramp. Holding up alongside Ensign Taern, who appeared for all intents and purposes to be a bit on the distracted side - but then again, it could be his personality - M'Kantu stopped. "The moment those craft open fire on anything other than this ship, scramble the Vanguards, Ensign. Notify Lieutenant Rex to defend that freighter, but only disable the craft's warp drives if engagement begins. No bloodshed."

"Aye, sir." Taern had not taken his eyes off the tactical grid. "Shall I warm up the phasers and photon tubes?" The blips were progressively approaching on a vector course that would have them arrive in mere moments. His distraction now vacant. Perhaps he had been memory switched at the time of first approach?

At that, Daren himself felt an immediate falling effect to find himself staring through colour washed eyes. It felt like bing shot through a teal tunnel with tracers falling past him. Instantly he surmised he was seeing through the eyes of an avian or insectoid member of the crew, or possibly Lt. Commander 'Hwii, the Dauphinian mammal.

Just as quickly though, he found himself back in his own form.

"Captain?" Taern was now watching him intensely, torn at the choice of surveying the incoming ships, and the invariably lost CO who had tumbled to the Engineering panel to his right.

"It's alright, Ensign. Put the phasers on standby, but do not arm the photons. Ships the size of those incoming are too fast for the torpedoes to reach when under impulse propulsion."

"Aye, sir!"

"Ensign Hunter!"

The dark-haired half-Vulcan ran her hand through the right ear, exposing the point of her ear. "Subspace is rippling, Captain. I can't cut through the distortions enough to identify just how bad it is." Sometimes the rebellious human side working in tandem with the Vulcan heritage of hers could be a blessing. At other times, not. Especially when it came to the exceptionally emotional outburst that Terrans are subject to. He could only imagine a mixed parentage and history that came with many of his crew. Either way, her immediate assumption into the matters at hand was successful. That was precisely what he was looking for.

"Any luck on hailing the Away team, Ms. Iniara?"

"None, sir. I can't cut throught the intereference."

"Try a telepathic link to Jasmine Heloi. Tell them to stand ready."

Then the keg blew.

*****

[Time to intercept?] On board the tiny lead one man scatter dart, the gold chrome of a helmet lit up with a targetting box over what would be a humanoid right eye. Inside the helmete itself, a HUD scrolled by with boxed information on the targets on screen. The Galaxy class starship filled one quadrant, having been scanned for information on painted targets, another quadrant housed the freighter.

[3 Galens, Captain.] To the lead dart's left was one of its companions; a lengthy lavender imbued cylinder that flared out at its tip to grow wider as it reached the tail six meters back. The flare hugged the tube up until it passed the sunken opaque cockpit to then extend at the tail where its compact warp engines gave it the thrust it required.

[Frackin Federation. Always showing up when they're least wanted.]

[Keep the attitude in line, Chassit. We're here for one thing only. The Federation can go to Prim for all that it matters.] The dart hit a subspace wave that coasted it up and over in a bumpy crest. The escort craft alongside deflected off them as their warp exhaust suddenly lit up in a gritty mauve and blue unseen, to fade away like dirty foam as the wave carried it off.

[That's the sixth one. I don't think it's the mechanics fault this time. Something's going on out there. I can feel it.] Zalia's cold and clinical pitch did not belie her female gender. She was as smooth and efficient as ice.

Chattering rose above the in-cockpit din of Captain Adair's dart. Falsehoods and lies from the Federati, telling them to shut down because of some warp danger. Fools. Be just like them to have the darts drop to impulse so they can be captured and fail their objective.

[There's a Federation craft docked with the freighter, Captain.] Chassit had a hungry lull to his transmitted tone. For good reason. The Federation and their damned Prime Directive let tragedy strike the heart of his home. He wanted payback.

[There is to be no quarter given for fugitives fleeing for asylum to the Starfleet ship. Chassit, it is your job to get it off that freighter. Do not destroy it. Just keep it away. Zalia, take out the engines of the freighter as planned. I'll disable communications and bridge functions. Any pods eject, take care of them. No quarter, no mercy. That freighter and its crew come back with us.]

[And the Starfleet ship?]

[This is none of their concern. Their weak Prime Directive will dictate their actions. They will have no choice but to leave.]

[Waypoint reached, Captain.]

[Drop out of warp. Time to deal in lead. Radio silence until we're at an advantage.]

With that last order, the three fast attack/interceptor craft dropped into the region, a ripple of blue fire curtailing around them as warp bent and 'screamed' in resistance. The craft on the left tore off around the rear of the freighter, peppering its engines with a vollwy of projectile weapons that rent and tore at the pitiable housing. Chassit flipped and tore down at the Federation shuttlecraft, lining it with a strafing run of bullets that ripped off the airlock, detaching the runabout from the freighter. It's engines lit up in an attempt to hold in place, but the inertial pressures of the exploding gases from the freighter pushed the remaining shred of metal with the shuttle off to float away. The Guadeloupe bounced once off the hull, and engaged its thrusters to get out of the way, all the while Chassit continually firing at and around it.

Adair blew off the communications array and rained death on the blast shields of the freighter, blowing out portals, who expelled various bodies and parts as they were riddled with the projectiles that pierced within.

Adair flipped a control lever off his bucket seat, and immediately within his small cargohold, a module was fired out via grappler, which landed within the bridge area. It latched out anchor legs which ripped through the grating floor and took hold, insinuating itself into the freighter subsystems and intercoms.

"By order of the Dreshaya, you are hereby impounded. Prepare to be boarded and towed. Any escaping prisoners will be shot on sight."

"Swarm"

Lieutenant Corran Rex

Corran's head snapped up as the red alert sounded. The alarm had snapped him out of another memory induced fog, reliving the rather embarrassing time that Belara had tried to seduce Hikaru, before she'd found out he was married.

Caves, what a thing to have to remember. He tapped his commbadge even as he rushed for the closest turbolift. "Rex to all Vanguard pilots. To your stations. Launch in three minutes. Rex out."

The turbolift doors whisked closed even as he finished speaking, and he pulled a hypo spray from his jacket pocket. "Starfighter Bay." he barked, checking the dosage amount.

The serum was derived from a mix of his previous serum, and the chemical compound of the water from the desert planet. Maybe it would stabilize this memory swapping nonsense, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to make sure his.. affliction was in check before going into a firefight.

As the doors opened once again, he hustled down the hall, tapping his commbadge to speak to the bridge. "Rex to the Captain. Launch?"

["Launch orders approved, Mr. Rex. Three incoming vessels that wish to board us."] came the Captain's voice, calm and sure.

"We'll just have to keep them from getting close enough then, sir." the Trill replied confidently.

["See that you do. Launch when ready. Bridge out."] and with that, M'Kantu closed the comm.

The rest of the squadron - save Starfire, she was on the freighter - was busily pulling on flight gear, and getting ready depart. "Launch in two, folks." he ordered crisply. "Move like the wind."

Slipping on his life support gear and gloves even as he hurried up to his ship, saw the Deck Chief pulling the access ladder over to Vanguard One. "She good, Chief?"

"Like new, Lieutenant. Let's keep her that way, eh?"

"I'll do my best." he replied, even as he scrambled up the ladder.

Pulling the cockpit closed with one hand, he started the preflight with the other. Putting on his helmet, he ran through the checklist. Pressure seals, locked. Life support online. Comm one to squadron frequency, comm two to wing leaders. Comm three would keep him in contact with the ship, and comm four was set for a local area transmission. Encrypt systems engaged. Thrusters on line, startup diagnostics passed. Impulse engines online. Inertial dampeners online. Weapons online. Shields charged, ready to power up once launch bay was cleared. Navigation and Astrometrics maps on line. Helm control up. Sensors online. IF/F loaded, tactical HUD engaged. All systems green. "All pilots, sound off with preflight checks."

Everyone but two pilots came up green.

["Leader, Six."] came the voice of "Prophet". ["Impulse systems not responding."]

"You're grounded, Six. Sit tight." Corran replied immediately, and checked the board. "Angel, status?" he asked of Angeleina, the only pilot not to clear so far.

["Stupid Mouse."] he heard the Ktarian mutter to herself over the comm.

"What's that, Flight Officer?"

["Nothing, Leader."] came the woman's disgusted response. ["Tac systems were taking a moment. I'm up now, and green."

"Allright then," he replied, taking her word for it. "Vanguard One to control. All systems green, requesting launch permission."

["Launch doors clear. Go get 'em, Lieutenant."]

"You heard the lady, Vanguards." Corran replied, and Vanguard Squadron boiled out of their nest like a swarm of angry bees - looking for someone to sting.

"In the Belly of the Freighter"

by En. Tizarin Lias- Medical Officer
1st Lt. Branwen London- Marine Counselor

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

Tizarin and Branwen moved away from the other teams almost as soon as they entered the freighter. The Trill doctor lead the way, trying her best to pick life sign readings out of the soup that turned up on the tricorder's scanners.

The enterior of the freighter generally matched it's exterior. It was old, and worn out. Battered and bruised would be one way of describing how the interior of the ship looked. It looked like it had been through a war, and noone had bothered to clean it up- ever. Interior lighting was poor, at best, and so Branwen kept a Sims' Beacon on her wrist, and used it to illuminate their way, as Tizarin held up her tricorder trying to get a fix on what she thought was a concentration of life readings.

"I'm not sure, but I think I'm picking something up." she told her Marine companion. "About 12 meters due aft, and then some down... probably on a lower deck."

"you want to check it out? I will cover you." Bran said taking her job as marine seriously.

Tizarin nodded. "We've got no way of knowing 'till we get there." the Trill replied.

They continued following the tricorder reading, such as it was, until Tizarin informed Branwen they were right on top of it. "Now, we need to find some kind of crawlway or something to get us down to the source of the reading." she put her tricorder away, and began looking around them for something that resembled an accessway. This definitely was not a Starfleet vessel.

Bran looked around. "How about this?" She said pointing out a hatch. "It's narrow and not very well defendable."

When Branwen had the hatch open, she climbed in, followed by Tizarin, who hoisted her heavy bag over her shoulder before she began her descent. The climb down was a long and tiring one, and both women knew that they had found a whole new appreciation for turbolifts before they reached the next level.

As Tizarin's boots hit the deck plating, she dropped her bag and leaned against the metal ladder down which they had climbed. "That was a day's work." she commented aloud. Then she heard a sound. The sound of some kind of weapon having some kind of bolt pulled back on it. She let her round eyes scan around her, and as they fell on the direction in which Branwen's light was pointing, she saw three humanoid forms.

Two were Nausicaans, and they were pointing some kind of rifle at them, and the other- a middleaged, balding human by appearances, spoke: "Who are you people ? What do you want on this ship ?"

"We have come to help. We are federation officers, sir." Bran said shielding her friend. "We are from the USS Galaxy."

"Well, I'm first mate here, and I don't remember anyone asking for any help from Starfleet." the balding man said. "Our skipper's got everything under control. I'd suggest you get yourself back to you USS Galaxy, before you get yourselves hurt."

"Is that supposed to be some kind of threat ?" Tizarin asked, her brow wrinkling as her expression became one of open annoyance.

"Not at all, just a warning. " the surly first mate replied. "We're used to doing things differently on this ship. Your fancy unifroms and white-glove Academy style'll just get your ass kicked on this ship, girls."

bran bit back a reply anyway better if they underestimated a bunch of girls. she continued to let Ti do the talking, but her eyes missed nothing.

"You come off pretty tough for a guy who is a - second banana, and b -playing boss on a ship that's falling apart." Tizarin said. "We received a distress signal from you freighter. And something going on over here is playing hell on the Galaxy. So, we've got a job to do, whether you like it or not. And we're going to do it."

Tizarin was not one for keeping her temper.

"You talk big... but this still is not your ship." the first mate said.

"Maybe." Tizarin said. "But, if something on your ship is endangering the people on the Galaxy, well- the CO of our away mission may just have to commandeer your vessel, and if that comes down to it you'll see just what a few fancy uniforms and white-glove acadey tactics are capable of when there's lives at stake !"

Bran gave her friend a sign to tone it down, making them angry would get them nowhere.

"I'm about to have my men here escort you to an airlock." the first mate barked. "So, get this- we don't need your help, and we didn't send any distress signal."

"No... but I did." came a voice, deep, and clear, with an accent straight out of Great Britain, on Earth. "You did not send a distress signal. I did." a tall, hawk-featured man moved out of the steam behind the first mate and his guards, and as he came forward Tizarin could see he was a good deal taller than the first mate, and much more imposing.

"I am Draco Valmont, of alpha centauri." the tall man, who looked t be in his 70s announced. "I have money- credits, latinum, whatever it is you require. And I will see to it that you are rewarded handsomely if you get me, and a companion of mine off this ship, and to our destination within three days time."

The first mate turned on the older man and gave him a shove. "Where do you get off..... you're a passenger. You're not supposed to be sending distress signals or anything of the like without the Captain's leave. I ought to break your neck."

"You'll find that a trifle difficult, Commander Orzabal." Valmont replied. "As I am well versed in the Klingon Mokbarrah. If you put your calloused little hands on me again, I'll be forced to prove that to you. Now... have your men lower their weapons, or see me really angry." Valmont was intimidating, to anyone who was willing to be intimidated. The first mate- Orzabal -ordered his men to lower their weapons, but they had already begun doing so before he gave the order.

"Good... now, ladies... if you will come with me..."

"Wait a minute." Tizarin said. "I haven't agreed to work for you. I'm a doctor. And if there is anyone injured, or sick on this ship, treating them is my responsibility. I don't care if they're rich, or poor. And don't try intimidtaing us with your bragging. My companion here is a Starfleet Marine. And I'm sure her phaser is more than a match for your Mokbarrah. You'll wait your turn. Mr... Orzabal, is it ?"

The ship's first officer nodded.

"all right... do you have any one on board requiring medical attention ?" Tizarin asked.

"Look, I don't need some federation doctor getting in my way." Orzabal said.

"I wont get in the way." Tizarin replied. "I'll just treat your wounded. Passengers and crew included."

bran was not impressed with the passenger, there was something she didn't trust about him. she found the first mate much more predictable and therefor easier to deal with.

"let her do what she wants.' she spoke up now in her welsh accent. 'no harm done, and the sooner you are rid of us.'

"There's other fleeters already onboard, isn't there." Orzabal asked Tizarin.

"Yes, there is." the doctor answered. "And we're going to help you people whether you like it or not. Now... let's have a look at your sickbay."

Disgruntledly, Orzabal beckoned for the two women to follow. The went after him, up a long, dark corridor. The two Nausicaans followed, as did Valomnt, moving silently. His entire demeanor cold and sinister.

"Nightmares"

(WAY BACKPOST: This was WAY BACK....right after the "Faded" Series. It kinda took forever to make, but here it is none-the-less)

By. THe Fienbergs

Klaus rose slowly....sitting up in the bed.......cold sweat, and hard memories...none completely his own.

Kay seemed a world away, yet just across the bed.

The young red haired woman woke up and saw her beloved troubled, "What wrong Imzadi?" she asked while rubbing his shoulders alittle.

"Terrible dreams.....terrible.... I don't understand..."

"Shh I'm here now and I going to take good care of you, because I love you so much and I don't want to lose you."

"I just don't understand..." Klaus weakened....his eyes worn and his nerves shot.

Kay looked at her husband's worn and sad face than said, "Maybe it's something from your past."

"Yes...It is. It feels familiar."

"Do you want to talk about it, Imzadi?"

Klaus nodded.

The young science officer put his head on her breast so he can feel relax to talk to her.

"I'm here for you Imzadi." Kay whisper in her husband's ear.

"Let me think of where to start."

"Start when ever you like my love."

He sighed. "I don't suppose you've ever had a memory in a dream of the last memories of an ancient ancestor? Or the dieing memory of one of an unknown alien world's greatest scientists.....None of it makes sense."

Kay was alittle worried and puzzled by this as she said, "I had dreams of been some of my ancient ancestor but nothing like that. What else was in your dreams?"

Klaus felt better. "Not much. I had no control over anything. I was like an actor that knew all the lines, and every detail. The first two I could never at known. But the 3rd and 4th.....I..."

"I know how that like, but I think is something from your past. Have you seen Commander Dallas about this?"

"Probably, But....memories of my mother and father's deaths? From *Their* point of view?"

"Now that is puzzling, maybe something or someone is putting this dreams in your mind?"

"We don't have telepaths of that strength.....wait...None of this makes sense."

Kay kissed his head and said, "I have a few cousins who can help us."

"I don't think we're in a position for that....." Klaus said woefully. Chances are they would have to figure out what the hell was going on right then and there.

"Can I ask you something, do you even reget marrying me?

"Do you?"

"Of course not!"

"Then there's your answer."

"Do you think I'm stupid that I'm jealous when other woman are hanging around you?"

Though still a little shaken up by his memories, Klaus was comfortable enough to attempt a joke. "Understandable. I do have a charm." "I'm serious Klaus..." Kay said while looking at him. "Well. I do understand.....I'll admit I don't have many friends....and some of the ones I do, happen to be women. Don't worry. You're the only one that matters to me." Kay lay her head back on his cheat and said with a smile, "That's good..I love you too much to lose you."

Klaus nodded.

((OOC: Sorry, but this is set before the Galaxy reached the freighter))

"Learning Curve."

1st Lt. Branwen London, Marine Counsellor
Ens. Airaul Taern, Tactical Officer

Branwen walked into ten forward. It was not a place she had been often, and she still felt a little bit uncomfortable. As if everybody was watching her. Today it was very busy luckily, so she found a table in a corner, where she could drink and look at the stars.

"I told you...he just came out with it and then stalked off wildly, like he was in some kind of opera!" The Lieutenant laughed warmly as he lifted his glass, taking another sip as he looked around the group.

Airaul chuckled softly at the image, giving a grin as his eyes moved to the lone woman again. "I'm going to go and introduce myself to her..."

Nathaniel looked at him with a moment of surprise before his lips curved with amusement. "Trying to make me jealous?"

"No..." Airaul gave a soft laugh, getting a hold of his drink. "But it's impolite to let a lady sit alone... especially in a place like this with people like you around..." He slapped Nathaniel on the back with a small smile, nodding to the rest of the group before moving to the table with the woman. "May I join you?"

Bran was jolted from her reverie. She smiled at the handsome young man. "Of course, I am new here sir, and I love making new friends. Branwen London." She held out her hand.

He smiled warmly as he took it, shaking it gently as he moved to sit with her. "I'm new here myself. Airaul Taern. I only got myself into that mob from spending too much time in here..."

"I am not into partying.” She admitted, not being very fond of crowds. Branwen was still pretty shy. "I never know how people will react to me."

"Well, maybe it doesn't matter how they react to you," Airaul suggested with a light smile. "You are you...and not an awful lot can change that. Nor should it."

"I know. Still it hurts when people seem to dislike you for your profession."

"Your profession?" Airaul asked with curiosity, leaning closer as he let his chin rest in a hand. "What's that?"

"I am a marine and a psychologist. Two things most people hate." She looked at him shyly to see his reaction.

"Well...where I am from, we have neither of those things," Airaul shrugged with a bright grin, taking a decent mouthful of his drink as he kept his eyes on her. "So who am I to judge?"

"No marines and no psychologists. What kind of world is that?" She asked amazed.

Airaul laughed softly as he looked down into his glass, tilting it a little. "Hm...a world where soldiers are either common or officers and divided into different specialities....and a place where priests, priestesses and initiate priests and priestesses are both doctors and listeners."

“Sounds good.” Bran said. “I think it was once that way on earth were I come from.”

"So I have heard..." Airaul gave a playful smile. "Or so people tell me...usually with a joke."

“A joke, why?” Bran raised her eyebrows not understanding.

"Of how...apparently...my people are a few hundred years behind you in evolution." Airaul rolled his eyes with a chuckle, his finger tapping against his glass.

"That's not necessary a bad thing. I grew up in a backward Society that was bad. The way I hear you tell things your people are kind, that's never a bad thing whatever others tell you."

"I wouldn't say kind....tenacious perhaps," Airaul winked with a warm smile, swirling his drink before taking a sip. "How did you decide to work here?"

"I was placed here. And I am an experiment, one of the first marine shrinks on ships."

Airaul chuckled softly, looking back to his drink. "I apologise...I mean, why did you join Starfleet?"

"I wouldn't know what else to do. I lived with my sister on the San Francisco campus since I was 14. Only since she is making a career in the Navy I'd chose the marines. She's a commander now, first officer on a ship. I'm really proud of her."

"A very respectable rank," Airaul agreed with a nod and a gentle smile. "Do you hope for rank?"

"I don't know. I do, I suppose. Yet I find it more important to do a good job. Be a good combat marine and a good psychologist. But it would be nice not to have to salute everything in sight." She smiled.

"Yes..." Airaul laughed warmly, thinking on that before giving a nod as he thought over the adjustments he had had to make when joining these people himself. "I have always found that strange...I understand the reasoning of course, it's just getting accustomed to new traditions."

"It's drilled into us at the marine academy. One of the few things I don't like about being a marine, sometimes I think discipline is too severe. Don't tell anybody I said that." She smiled

"If there is one thing I am good at, it is keeping secrets," Airaul winked with a good natured smile.

"Cool. So what do you do?" She asked him.

"I'm a tactical officer," Airaul explained, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "I was an officer of the Revalis' army at home, so I don't think they quite knew what to do with me. I refused to be a security officer....I have lived that part of my life, being a guard."

She wrinkled her nose. "Tactical, isn't that really boring? What do you do all day?"

"Yes, it can be boring, but it can also be exhilarating; as with any job there are good and bad days. Plus it is better than guarding a door all day." Airaul gave a grin, shaking his head. "That really *is* boring..." He glanced up as Nathaniel approached them, smiling warmly. "You off?"

"Yeah," the dark haired man shook his head with a small smile. "Too much noise in here for me. When will you get back?"

"I'll be along later," Airaul promised, briefly taking his hand as the other man leant down to him. He kissed him with a smile before watching him walk away to the doors with a faint smile. "He makes the bad days less boring."

Bran saw them kiss and could only come to one solution. "How nice for you to have your brother on the same ship."

"Brother?" Airaul couldn't help but laugh, looking down as he cleared his throat and shook his head. "Brother? No. He is...not my brother." He arched an eyebrow, meeting her eyes with mild amusement.

"But... But, he kissed you."

"Yes..." Airaul said slowly, watching her with mild surprise. "Have you never kissed a boyfriend?"

"Once." She blushed. "But you are a man and so is he."

Airaul watched her with surprise a long moment, searching her features curiously more than anything else. Could it be true that she had never really heard of a man seeing another man? It was a puzzle to him, but it made him more curious than anything else. "Yes...that's true. Men can be attracted to each other too...and women for that matter."

She flushed heavily, remembering more than one occasion where she had felt attracted to another woman. "It is sinful. You seem like a nice guy, I don't want to see you suffer."

Airaul's eyes widened as he watched her before he gave a laugh...a warm, rich laugh that came from his soul. "Sinful? Well, I suppose it depends on what you think it is to be sinful. Where I am from, the sin is to not follow your heart."

"It says so in the Bible. I don't want you to burn in hell. There are a lot of nice women on this ship." She said earnestly.

Airaul glanced down with a small smile; it was almost sweet. "I....think I should tell you now that I don't believe in your god. My people, we have gods that we believe in. They do not give such teachings, so I have no reason to fear it."

"You probably believe in false gods. Look, people were made for procreation. If you love somebody from the same sex, it's a waste. If god would have wanted that, he would have created us differently."

Airaul searched her features for a long moment, watching her with interest. "You believe that we were created for procreation? I see. We believe that we are meant to enjoy the life we live in. That love, and happiness and fun are the things that should be treasured and worshipped. Our priests have many serious duties, tending to the sick and hurt, offering the prayers to the gods, but they also lead us in times of festivity as well as times of darkness."

"It's what our priests teach us. I have had sinful thoughts as a child, the priests and my father corrected me. And I was beaten, until I thought better thoughts." She said matter-of-factly.

Airaul watched her sadly a long moment before shaking his head, keeping her eyes. "Just because someone beats a point into you, it doesn't make it right."

"I know. That's why I ran away when I was 14. Yet old habits die slow and this seems so wrong to me." She blushed.

"That is a shame, because I find a lot of joy in it," Airaul said softly with a gentle smile, taking a sip of the amber liquid in his glass. "And that is what our gods hope for above anything."

"I wish I could believe you." Again she flushed, struggling with her own emotions. Bronwen sat fidgeting with a glass.

"Why does it make you blush?" Airaul asked, keeping his eyes on her. "There must be something more for it to make you blush."

"Nothing." she said too quickly.

"Come on, you can tell me..." Airual leant forward to her with a playful smile. "I have no reason to tell anyone else."

“there's nothing.” She was getting agitated. “For me to have such thoughts would be vile and sinfull. I strictly like men, just men.” She emphasised.

"There's nothing wrong with that either," Airaul shrugged as he gave a soft laugh, watching her with a puzzled look. "So long as you're happy, it's all that matters."

"I am very happy. I might have my first boyfriend actually." It just left her mouth before thinking. If she went on at this rate the whole ship would know she was in love.

Airaul smiled warmly, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "Congratulations! I hope it works out for you. What is he like?"

“he’s a knight… to me that is. He appeared in my dreams as my saviour, and now he turns out to be real.”he sat there beaming, a shy girl In love for the first time.

Airaul watched her, caught between curiosity and confusion as he leant forward a little closer. "I...am afraid that I don't follow..."

“those memories, I went back into my childhood, he came into my dreams as my imaginary friend. He tried to stop my father from hurting me. And then suddenly he was real and here on the ship.”

"Very...spiritual," was all Airaul could find to say to that as he searched her eyes, smiling weakly. "A bit creepy though, don't you think?"

"Why? I think it's exactly like a fairytale."

"Hm..." Airaul wasn't so sure, but he didn't say anything. He wouldn't tarnish this woman's bubble, not when it seemed to be her first boyfriend. He gave a bright smile, lifting his drink in a toast. "Well...to you and your knight then."

"Thank you." She gave a very bright smile.

"And you make sure you enjoy it, okay?" Airaul said with a mock firm voice, grinning as he too a healthy swig of his drink. "None of this worrying....just *enjoy* it."

"I am." She was smiling again. "Only I don't think my roommate likes it very much, and I cannot figure out why."

"Doesn't like the fact you are seeing someone? Or doesn't like him?" Airaul asked, tilting his head as he watched her curiously. "Is your roommate involved with anyone at the moment?"

"Somehow she has a problem with him I think. I don't know if she has a boyfriend." Bran said looking puzzled.

"Hm..." Airaul thought about it as he swirled his glass gently. "Perhaps she is feeling lonely with not seeing someone and so you having found someone is difficult for her? Just a suggestion, I don't know her, so I couldn't say really. Or perhaps she doesn't approve of this man...maybe she thinks you're worth more..... but if you like him, and he likes you and treats you well, then I'd say go for it. Sometimes taking risks makes the outcome all the more sweet."

"She says I shouldn't trust Saul, yet she won't say why not. It's pretty frustrating." Bran admitted.

Airaul considered it a long moment as he watched the woman, searching her eyes. "It sounds like she knows him to me...but really, unless she tells you *why* you shouldn't trust him, I don't see why you shouldn't."

'i trust him.' bran said. 'it's just.' she shrugged. 'i guess i am just being silly.'

"It's just *what*?" Airaul asked, leaning closer to watch her with patient features.

"I trust him and yet Nara is nice and has known him longer. It makes me nervous." She admitted.

"Do...do they have a past together?" Airaul asked hesitantly. "I mean...did they see each other at some point?" "I don't know. She wouldn't really say much." Bran looked at him. "What do you think?"

Airaul spread his hands out as he gave a slight shrug. "It's not my place...but it could be that they had a relationship that went sour?" Bran thought. "Maybe I can ask him? He might be more willing to talk then Nara. What do you think?"

Airaul nodded with a small smile. "Ask. Just remember that even if they did...you and him might be very different from what he and her had." "Yeah... I never knew relationships could be this complicated. Never had a boyfriend before." Bran sighed.

Airaul couldn't help but laugh softly. "Actually...this isn't as complicated as I've known some go. Just enjoy it." "I intend to." Bran smiled brightly.

"Shack'n'Baking"

Lt. Brianna O'Shea
Chief Engineer / Liaison of S.C.E.

With

Cmdr Karyn Dallas
Chief Counselor
(Used with authorization since Lori is going/on vacation)

:: Freighter's Engineering Section ::

Brianna had been working relatively quiet for the last fifteen minutes. "Oh come on, ye communistic bastard!" She yelled, then stepped back and then hauled off and kicked the tar out of the alien part. She ignored the look she got from Karyn and began to curse even more as she got deeper and deeper into the freighters engines. "Mary bloomin' Scott, why didn't they put bloomin' off switch on this... this... this... stupid piece of Klingon shit!"

"Lieutenant, I don't believe getting angry is going to help in the situation." Karyn said, still fighting the memories she impacted with from Cutter.

"I'm not angry! I'm pissed off.. there is a difference." She replied, then added, "Sir", to it out of respect. As she turned to get another tool from her work kit, the freighter was hit with something and suddenly the engineering section exploded in volatile of explosions. Had it not been for Karyn's quick thinking, by grabbing Anna and diving into a storage unit both would have either been severely injured if not killed.

Brianna cursed as she felt the ship shake once more, beads of sweat started to form on her and Karyn's faces. The heat off the explosions was starting to heat up. Opening the unit's door she stepped out and then smelt something, "Oh bloomin hell, my hair... rat bastards burnt my hair!" Anna said, then looked at the charred engines. "Engines are offline now, Commander." She said, then looked over at Chief Counselor.

"Did you do that?" Karyn asked.

"No, sounds like we are under attack." Brianna said, just as two men staggered into the engineering section. They looked at Anna and Karyn then at their charred engines, pulling some weapons they fired on the two female Starfleet officers, who ducked and began to move toward a hatch. Brianna pulled the hatch off and soon both were inside. "We got to find the others, something is not right here." Karyn said.

"Commander, no disrespect, but crawl a little faster. Their gaining on us, I really don't need a new hole on my backside!" Anna said, as they were crawling throw the bowels of the freighter.

"A Dangerous Game"

Former Lt. Curtis Geluf

From the Office of Starfleet Diplomatic Corps

ATTN: Starfleet Intelligence
CC: Captain Daren M'Kantu
Subject: Former Lt. Curtis Geluf

Cpt. M'Kantu,

As you are no doubt aware, Starfleet has been watching with interest the current situation on the Kerelian homeworld of Kera. Kera's Federation membership is still rocky (they have only been within its charter for just under 20 years) and we have had reason to believe over the past several months that they may be wishing to break away from our protection.

This is, of course, not a desireable outcome.

The Kerelians, other than being superior field troops and intelligence officers due to their super-human hearing, have one other vital attribute.

What you are about to read is classified at the highest level.

When we approached Kera 20 years ago to offer them membership in the Federation, it was in an attempt to add their research to our own. For the past 22 or 23 years (details are sketchy at best) Kera has been developing a weapon of galaxy-shattering magnitude. Originally intended for use against the Borg the Kerelians instead shifted focus a few months into the project as they became very much aware of the violent tendencies of their neighbors in the Alpha and Beta quadrants. Not much was known about the project initially as one of the demands for joining the Federation was that all research belonging to the project would rest in Kerelian hands only. The Federation accepted these terms with the promise that the weapon, once complete, would be made fully available to Starfleet.

The project is code named Ragnarok. From the limited data that has been made available to us it appears to be a torpedo capable of destroying an entire starbase (with shields up). On top of this, the weapon is cloakable, meaning there would be no means of detection should such a weapon be used.

Obviously, the value of such a weapon is clear. However, recent intelligence led us to believe that Kera was considering breaking away from the Federation.

This must not happen.

Ragnarok is nearing completion, the latest estimates have it test firing as soon as 8 months of now.

Therefor, we have reached a compromise with the Kerelian government. In exchange for Kera remaining in the Federation, we have agreed to allow them to place Kerelian diplomatic representatives on a few of our more prominent flagships. This is to ensure that Kerelian interests are being considered in all diplomatic situations and to make sure that the Kerelians know what is happening within the Federation at all times.

The Galaxy has been selected as one of the ships. Fortunately, Captain, you will not need to worry about the integrity of the diplomat. The Kerelians have picked Curtis Geluf to lead the Kerelian diplomatic force on Federation ships and he will be stationed on the Galaxy.

Effective immediately, Lieutenant Curtis Geluf is hereby discharged, honorably from Starfleet. Henceforth his title shall be Special Kerelian Ambassador of the Government of Kera. He will carry the full flag rank of Ambassador. However, understand that because he is officially of the Kerelian government and not Starfleet, he does not fall under the usual command structure. He is to report directly to you, Captain, in addition to his homeworld and myself.

It is now that I will tell you of his true purpose Captain, and let me be frank, we are playing a very dangerous game. Because of Curtis' position as head of Kerelian Special Ambassadors, he has been given the highest clearance by his government. He therefore has access to any and all information reguarding not only Ragnarok, but the inner workings of the government itself. Curtis' love of the Federation has led him to agree to work with us to discover just what is going on on Kera. You will effectively have a double-agent aboard Daren. Any information he shares with you is privilaged, and cannot be allowed to leak out. If the Kerelian Government were to find out what we are doing, they would most likely leave the Federation and we would risk losing Ragnarok to one of our enemies.

Understand that we would not do such a thing if we were not certain that some form of trickery was being played here. We are unsure as to the Kerelian Government's true intentions or motives and we must do everything we can to safeguard our own interests.

This is a matter of great importance Captain, and I hope it ends well for us all.

Robert Geluf, Federation Ambassador to Kera

**occ And with that, I'm back! It's been quite a few months I know. I've had a lot of drama and personal problems, but Ian has been understanding and now it looks like I'm ready to return. I'm taking a new direction with Curtis (you can tell I'm sure). And all of this is definately leading up to something!

OOC: Backpost; takes place right after everyone transported to "dream land" gets back aboard the Galaxy

"Patching Up Wounds"

by Ensign Tizarin Lias, Medical Officer
2nd Lt. Branwen London, Marine Psychologist

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

A day after the strange memories branwen finally came to sickbay. It wasn't that she didn't trust Ti, it was just that the memories had been too strong.

"I'm back. Any idea where the strange guy came from?"

"I've dreamed about him before." Tizarin said. "When I was a youg girl, I dreamed about that ugly man with the club.". It was something Tiarin simply had to blurt out upon seeing Branwen.

They were in sickbay, and it was empty. Tizarin had no idea where anyone else was. Staff, or patients. But, she was glad she did not hear the sound of lumbering pursuit. Even after a day, the fear of reliving her nighmare so vividly was a fear she had a hard time stifling. Time well spent with Madison would cure her ills, she was sure. But, right now, she was having some trouble blocking it out of her mind.

"Are you okay? I know how difficult these memories can be. If there is anything you want to talk about, my door is open."

"Hey... hold up a minute there," Tizarin approached her companion. "You look like the same Branwen London who sat on that biobed over there a few weeks ago and let me examine her. But.... " the Trill grabbed a tricorder from a tray of medical equipment. "you're carrying injuires from that... from wherever it was we were. Injuries from your childhood. You'd better let me treat those before they get really nasty."

"I know. It's giving me a lot of pain, So I finally decided to come here. Nothing against you, I just needed some time. If it had been any other doctor I don't think I would have come at all."

"I take that as a high compliment." Tizarin said. "I'll make a deal with you. You let me treat your injuries and I'll tell you all about my 'Ugly Man'. ok ?"

"you have got a deal there."Bran said smiling.

"all right, then, hop up on that bed, and take off your top." Tizarin said. "Don't be shy, I just need to get a visual on your injuries. Tricorders and dermal regenerators are all well and good, but I'm the kind of physician that likes to actually get a look at things with her own eyes."

She got up onto the bed with a little bit of difficulty and then removed her uniformed top blushing. "I was taught its not proper to be naked in front of strangers. I can keep my bra on right?" She blushed even more.

"Sure... no problem." Tizarin said. "Though, as a doctor, even in my short tenure I've seen a lot of people naked. There's nothing wrong with nakedness, as long as it isn't exploitive. Aside from your injuries, how have you been ?"

Her back showed the old scars but also some new ugly red slashes. "I didn't sleep very well last night."

"I didn't either actually." Tizarin said. "I didn't dream about the Ugly Man. But, I did have the unpleasent sensation of seeing myself as a prisoner in some place I didn't recognize. It was a bit... exploitive, to say the least. I have this eerie sensation that I was having someone else's dream. Or expeirnecing someone else's memories in my sleep. What's your professional opinion on that ? What do you think is going on here ?"

"I don't know. I have never come across something like this. I don't think it's something personnel as everybody seems to be experiencing strange things. So I wouldn't worry about my own sanity if I were you." Bran smiled.

"Well, the sooner it's over the better, as far as I'm concerned." Tizarin said. She ran her diagnostic tool over Branwen's back, and bit her lip. "Branwen... you're going to have to remove the brazier. These injuries were administered to a bare back. And to get a clean regeneration I need to apply the dermal regenerator to the exposed flesh. I'm sorry... you can hold your uniform tunic over yourself in the front, if you want."

"Turn around please." Bran whispered. She was not comfortable being naked, not even around women. Maybe it were all the old scars.

Tizarin smiled, like an older sister, as she turned her back on Branwen. She stood, still, fingering the dermal regeneration unit, and waiting patiently.

"Ready. Sorry for being so silly." Bran blushed.

"Not silly at al." Tizarin said, consolingly. "Remember.... I know a lot more about you know. After our experience with Saul Bental, and your childhood memories. Now, let's get you taken care of here."

The Trill began running the dermal regneerator over Branwen's back. And she found she had to set the device higher than she had expected. All wounds had their own levels of severeity and required different settings, etc., to treat them. But, Tizarin was surprised as to how high she had had to set the regenerator to repair the damage done to the flesh of Branwen's back. The young Marine's father had been a skilled master with the whip. And as Tizarin worked she shook her head.

The memory of Branwen, beaten by her father, came flodding back into the Trill's mind. She wanted to put her arms around the young woman- to protect her from the visciousness.

"Your fahter." Tizarin said, aloud. "That's what provoked my ugly man."

"How? He didn't look like my father. Can you explain some more?" Bran asked.

"Well, when I was a child I used to dream about that ugly man." Tizarin said. "He was a kind of nightmare figure that seemed to be triggered by witnessing things like that. Like what your father did to you. The first time, I remember, dreaming about him was after I saw a school official at one of the public schools I attended beat a boy- with a wooden paddle. I think that's why my ugly man has that stick-thing... for a hand."

"I see. So for you it is a way to deal with stress and strong emotions. But this is painful for you. Have you ever tried to do something about the dreams?" Talking about this made her less uncomfortable on the table.

"Well, the dreams stopped when I was 12." Tizarin said. "So, I never really had to think much about it until Mr. Ugly came to life in that memory-mess we got caught in with Bental. The same place you got... these..." she passed her regenerator over the last few belt-weals. "There... your back's back to normal. I'll give you a mild analgesic for the pain. Any allergies ?"

"Don't bother. This pain is so minor for me I don't even feel it." Bran was not trying to brag.

I wouldn't be doing my job if I left you in pain- no matter how minor." Tizarin said. She pressed a hypospray against Branwen's neck. "There. A mild pain killer. And hypollergenic, just in case. Now, you get dressed and let me get a bone knitter."

Tizarin turned he rback, and moved to a tool tray, for the knitter; and said. "I'll fix that finger."

"Yes ma'am." Bran smiled.

Giving Branwen time enough to put her tunic back on, Tizarin returned to her patient with the bone knitter. She took Branwen's hand in hers, and smiled at her. "I just don't understand it..." she said, in a near whisper, as she ran the knitter over Branwen's finger, careful not to touch it too hard or twist it, or cause her any pain.

"Understand what, Ti?" Bran asked.

"How your father could treat you that way." Tizarin said. "It is hardly a loving way to treat a child. If I had a child, I could never allow anyone else to hurt them. I mean- I'd give my life to protect my own child. And I'd certainly never be able to hurt them myself. How did the culture you grew up in get like that ?"

She thought for a little while. "I guess they are scared. It's a small community, and I guess they see this as the only way to keep people there. They are afraid of everything, everybody who is different from themselves. Especially aliens." She rolled her eyes.

"Sometimes the Trill are the same way." Tizarin said. "No xenophobic, or anything. Just... stuffy. Well, the initiate institute is. It must have been so very hard for you. And yet you came through it ok. You still care for others, right. I mean your whole experience hasn't soured you against humankind. You help people now. Kinda like me. And that takes a lot of courage."

"I don't want to be like my family, I want to the like my sister." Bran admitted.

"There you go. Your fingers all taken care of." Tizarin put the bone knitter down on a tray. "Can I ask you something ?"

"Sure."

" How did Bental and I get into your memories ?" Tizarin asked.

"I don't know. I knew you before, but not him. He looks like my imaginary friend, you don't. It is so strange."

"This whole thing is like a rope." Tizarin said. "So many twists and turns, that as a doctor I find it very frustrating. People come in here complaining of nightmares, and asking me for help.... " she shook her head, in frustration, and didn't finish her sentence.

"Can I now ask you something?"

"Of course.. anything." Tizarin said.

"do you have a thing inside you, being Trill?"

"Yes I do." was the doctor's answer. "My name- Tizarin Lias... well, 'Lias' is the name of my symbiont. I am the third host. And we haven't been joined very long, but I find myself quite stimulated by the thoughts and memories I have from Lias' previous hosts."

'It... it is difficult for me. very alien." Bran blushed.

Tizarin simply smiled. "Branwen, you're like a breath of fresh air to me." she said. "You come from such a different world, almost as if you came from a different time. And yet, if you ask me, you're doing a damn good job of fitting in. You made it into the Marines, after all, and that takes some doing. I want you to know, I have a lot of respect for you. You've been through a lot- a lot more than I think I could endure. So, for what it's worth- I think you're pretty cool."

bran blushed. 'thanks, my friend. it's just sometimes it is so hard to shake off 14 years of conditioning. my sister was married to an alien, her little boy is half alien, i adore him. he's just three. i looked after him a lot, she grieved so much after her husband was killed in action.'

"And, you are now officialy patched up." Tizarin put he rhand, gently, on Branwen's shoulder. "feel better ?"

' i didn't feel much pain. this was minor.' Bran said. 'I have a pretty high painthreshold."

"I can imagine." Tizarin said. "I dbout any other Marine in Starfleet has gone through what you have. Even POWs. Because you went through it as a child. Is there anything else I can do for you ?"

'nope. next time we meet i hope we can do something fun together. thanks for healing me though, I appreciate it.'

"It's my pleasure." Tizarin said cheerfully. "And... as for having fun... I'm pretty good at writing holodeck programs. Let's meet up sometime, and see what our imaginations can come up with."

"sure thing. thanks again" with tht bran left.

"Of Ferengi, Tribbles, and Victor Krieghoff"

Lieutenant JG Ella Grey
Ensign 8-ball Hunter

Unlike the vast and various shrinks onboard Galaxy who wanted Ella to use her voice, 8-ball figured it was probably a good thing that her friend didn't talk that much, or, you know, at all. After all, 8-ball talked enough for three people and probably could keep up a conversation by herself for six hours without stopping.

Now, as they lounged in Ella's quarters over mutually enjoyed junk food, 8-ball took a moment to breathe after relating a story involving a sexually confused Ferengi, a set of fuzzy handcuffs and some whips, and about six million Tribbles.  She popped the cherry from her Toasted Fisherman cocktail into her mouth and took the stem out of her mouth. "So," 8-ball said, re-oxygenated, "before I go off for another ten hours on strange nights from my youth, I seem to remember it was your idea to eat fattening food and chitchat. Considering that, was there something in particular you felt like typing on your PADD about, or are you just that bored that you had to call me for some circus like entertainment?"

*I HAD SOME QUESTIONS ABOUT VICTOR*

"AGAIN?" 8-ball pretended to be aghast. "You are very one track. All right. What is it you want to know this time about Mr. Bad Mother Fucker Bo Peep?"

Ella shot her friend a look as she went to make herself another Gin and Tonic. Thankfully, Indigo had stopped sneaking aboard Romulan Ale. *PSYCHO KITTY KEEPS HINTING THAT SOMETHING HAPPENED WITH THE BREEN WHILE I WAS AWAY THAT I NEEDED TO KNOW ABOUT. DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE'S ON ABOUT BECAUSE IT'S STARTING TO ANNOY ME THAT SHE KNOWS SOMETHING THAT I DON'T. AND HOW COULD A FERENGI...YOU KNOW? AND WITH TRIBBLES?*

"The latter's a little too hard to explain," 8-ball said with a shrug. "You'd had to have been there, I guess. Though you really wouldn't want to. As for Miss Psychotica, well, Victor was busy around that time, but I don't know why it would concern you. Oh, don't look at me like that. I didn't mean THAT kind of busy. He was doing his normal, you know, Victor stuff. Mass slaughter and the like." 8-ball remembered watching the fight while on the Battle Bridge. "It was pretty epic like. Bonus points for not being inside the ship while he was at it."

Ella blinked. *WHAT?*

"Well, he wasn't inside the ship," 8-ball said, clearly not understanding the confusion. "He was outside, wearing that little gizmo thing you made for him. You did do that, didn't you? I mean, I didn't just imagine the whole thing, did I? Because if Victor can just walk around in space without any kind of technology assistance, well, that's just creepy."

There was a rather delicate pause before Ella exploded in her loudest fit of swearing by hand to date, made loud by the few times she slapped her hands together in between curses and by the utter fury on her face.

8-ball scooted back a little from the swearing mute. "I'm still not getting that whole problem here, but I'm guessing this is what Psycho Kitty was talking about. . .and why I'm about to be decapitated?"

*I DIDN'T DESIGN IT TO BE WORN IN FREAKING OUTER SPACE!!! HE COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!!!*

"Oh," 8-ball said, understanding. "Yeah, well, he wasn't. I mean, that's good, right?" This clearly did not appease Ella at all, so 8-ball offered, "More booze?"

*YOU SHOULD HAVE BROUGH EPTGAC, 8. I COULD HAVE SHOWN YOU WHAT A EVICERATED BEAR LOOKS LIKE.*

"Hey, hey, hey," 8-ball said protectively, "watch who you're threatening. Eptgac is MY teddy bear to destroy, maim, and otherwise overkill. If I ever find out that anyone else has damaged him, I'll take their fucking heads off. You can't just go attacking other people's teddy bears. It's not polite." She looked at Ella with a smile. "I'd imagine that's how you feel about Vicky, huh? No one, the Hydrans, the Borg, no one is allowed to kill Victor because if anyone's going to, it's going to be you, right?"

*DAMN STRAIGHT.* Ella said with a firm nod. *I HOPE HE'S HAD FUN WHEREVER HE'S BEEN, CAUSE I'M GOING TO KILL HIM WHEN HE GETS BACK*

"The sign of true love," 8-ball smirked.

Ella turned her death glare on her. 8-ball backed away further with a nervous smile on her face.

"Seriously, more booze?"

OOC: Takes place right before the Dreshaya attack.

"Backdoors"

Commander Cassius Henderson, Executive Officer

Lieutenant JG Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer

with... Captain Stravo, Ship's Master Ulec ch'Savard, Ship's Security

****

SS Danner's Fold, Independent Shipping Contractor

Cassius Henderson watched his teams disappear from the cargo loading bay that they'd airlocked into. Kara'nin was still trapped in Karyn Dallas' hoverchair bound body, but he lead Jasmine Heloi and Claire Barnes from the room, Barnes sweeping continuously for hostile personnel. Considering what Bental had sent in the intel report, it was entirely possibly that she would find just that.

Turning his head over his right shoulder, he caught the eyes of Nyssa Alverez. "Get back onboard and keep the shuttle safe. Don't hesitate to leave if you're attacked and feel like you can't hold out." He watched Alverez retreat back through the airlock, and he made a mental nod. They were committed now.

He turned his attention to the only other occupant of the bay, Cora Dobryin, his fellow member of the Intelligence community. His memory instantly flashed back to the moments on the Pallas Athena, lying frozen and wounded, barely alive and awaiting rescue. He remembered finally looking up to see the face of a tall, dark haired Federation commander and a shorter woman who'd looked out of place in the uniform.

Cass shook his head. The memory was Dobryin's, and he'd just seen himself. Shrugging it away from his consciousness, he focused on the intelligence chief. "Shall we?" He gestured for the door. "I'm afraid it's a bit of a hike."

"Well then let's get going," Cora herself flashed a brief memory that wasn't as she'd remembered her time on the Pallas Athena, instead it belonged to Commander Henderson. She shrugged it off. They had a long way to go and a lot of work ahead of them.

A few minutes later and it had become apparent that the freighter's crew, potentially smugglers, had instigated some sort of lockdown protocol and were holed up. The ship's lights had dimmed, and Cass and Cora had been forced to use the lamps on their rifles to keep their path illuminated. They would have moved in the darkness, which they'd both operated in before, but there were objects strewn about the corridor at random. "It's a mess in here. That way. We're going to need to climb that lift tube."

Cora simply nodded, "From what I've seen our job isn't going to get easier so lets do what we came to do." Soon they began the long climb up the lift tube.

As they worked their way up, climbing by a ladder far too thin and not necessarily stable, Cassius decided to discharge another one of the executive officer's duties: responsibility for the crew's morale. "So Cora, tell me about Ensign DiMillo. Has he been able to settle back in or not?"

"I"d say he's settling in as well as can be expected. The crew including my intelligence staff and my Assistant are giving him a hard time. While I've made it clear that won't be tolerated there are still instances occurring anyway." Cora responded.

He paused for a moment before continuing the climb. They were nearing the top. "Well, that's probably to be expected, considering the nature of his court martial. How's he handling the pressure? This wasn't supposed to be easy."

"He's handling the pressure fine. No its not supposed to be easy," Cora answered, " Of course Intelligence work isn't always clean either. At the end of the day more than one of us has done any number of things we aren't proud of."

Cass grimaced, the fleeting image of Simone Ovrali dissapearing back into his eyes. He would never forget having to leave her on Breen, no matter how much he would have liked to. He hauled himself up onto the deck that contained the bridge, then turned to offer Dobryin a hand. "You're telling me, Cora. Well, I'm glad he's managing. Tell me if there're any signs that it might not stay that way."

"Believe me, I will," Cora replied after he helped her onto the deck. "If anything changes I'll let you know. I just hope he trusts me enough to say something if things get too rough."

"Thanks. I've been in the same place as him, and I think he's a good man, but he's going to need to prove himself," he pulled her onto her feet. He turned around and surveyed the corridor. Earily quiet. "Okay. The entrance to the main bridge should be just up ahead, but I'd rather get a picture of what's going on in there, so let's duck into their Communications Room this way."

He gestured to a door on the left side of the hall.

Cora thought checking out the scene was a very good idea, "Yeah I know he does. He knows that but its also clear he's been to hell and back again. Not many people have the resolve or fortitude to bounce back. I hope he does."

"Myself as well," he said, moving carefully over the the dorr controls of the Communications Room. Taking a few seconds, he fiddled with the circuitry and the door slid open. Pointing his rifle at the entrace to the bridge, which could barely be seen at the end of the hallway, he waited to be sure that they hadn't been discovered. "All clear."

Simutaneously Cora swept the room with her own rifle ending at the bridge to be ensure their safety. Briefly making eye contact with Henderson to indicate their path was unobstructed.

He nodded, jerking his head to one side as he continued to cover the door, indicating that she should enter the Comm Room and that he'd follow behind her.

Cora entered the Comm room, rapidly yet quietly. IT didnt' take much for her to know Galaxy's XO was right behind her.

Cass swept into the room, shining the light around the 'radio shack'. The place obviously hadn't been used for some time, but Cassius was greatful that they'd been boarding a vessel old enough to have one. After checking the room for any unpleasant surprises, he relaxed. "Okay. I need about five minutes to jack into the security surveilance system from here. Provided that they haven't modified the software too much, there's virtually no chance we'll be detected. But just in case, if you could cover the door, I'd appreciate it. They've got to know we boarded them."

"Not a problem. Given this age of this ship their security codes shouold be fairly easy to hack," Cora replied very quietly. As a precaution she had her rifle trained on the door. They certrainly didn't need any unexpected surprises.

Cass nodded, pressing his tricorder's interface jack firmly into place. After running a few probing subroutines, he confirmed that the standard software for the old Antares-Class was still in place, then began hacking his way through the security. "Yeah. This is an old trick I learned back when I was a full time field agent. When the Antares-Class was designed, SFI built a backdoor into it's security protocols. Most people don't remember it, but my handler was trained by one of the people who did it."

That one made Cora smile, "Our job is all about finding backdoors,"

"Indeed," he replied, "And... We're in. I'll need a minute to find the specific SecureCams." He switched between views, taking the time to check on his team members, until he came to the bridge cams. "Looks like we've got a relatively small group on the bridge. One officer, three crew. I'm guessing that the big Nausicaan is their captain. He's in the center of the bridge. There's a wiry looking Andorian guarding the door, but he's not paying attention. The other two are human and are looking at the viewscreen."

Cora simply nodded. Both she and Henderson were specifically trained to deal with those kind of odds. As long as the element of surprise remained on their side things would be a relatively clean sweep.

Reflexively, Cass cleaned up the system and removed traces of his presense, before he could even think that it wouldn't matter. He stood up, pocketed the tricorder, and cross the room to stand next to Cora. "Okay," he whispered. "From here, we take the bridge. I'll go in first, disable the Andorian. You follow me and cover the Nausicaan with your rifle. If he charges, stun him. I'd perfer to be able to negotiate, but if it's not possible, so be it."

Again Cora knew what lay ahead of them. They'd do it by the book and as swiflty and cleanly as possible. "Let's go."

Cass stepped out of the 'radio shack' and cross the hallway in a few seconds, strapping the rifle across his back. It would only hinder him in hand to hand combat with the guard. "On my count... one... two... three." He tapped the door release and stepped into the bridge.

The Andorian saw the door open and was at least wise enough to step back and clear his combat-knife as Cass passed through the door. Never a fan of Starfleeters, the Andorian lunged forward, going for Cass' throat, a maneuver that was far too straightforward to work.

The executive officer of the Galaxy stepped aside, but caught the Andorian's wrist as he started to pass. Knowing that Cora was right behind him, he turned and pulled the Andorian back over his shoulder, flinging him bodily to the ground and out of Lieutenant Dobryin's way. Adjusting his grip, he finished by snapping the Andorian's wrist, forcing him to drop the weapon, and landing a shin across the alien's throat, disabling him.

Immediately Cora trained her rifle on the Nausican as she entered. Prepared to subdue him by any means possible before things got out of hand. She moved with trained precision.

The Captain, a burly Nausicaan named Stravo, whipped around at the sound of his subordinate's bulk slamming into the deck plating, only to be faced with a particularly tenacious looking pinkskin with a rifle trained squarely at his head. Growling in impotence, he raised his hands.

Cora's demeanor and actions left no room for the Nausican Captain to disobey or ignore her. "Comply or die." It was that simple.

"Fine..." the Nausicaan growled, then turned to his pilot and weapons officers, who were beginning to rise, "Don't bother, it's too late. What is it that you want, Federation?"

"I'll answer that," Henderson interjected, "I'm Commander Cassius Henderson of the Federation Startfleet vessel Galaxy. And it's really not about what I want so much as what you're going to do. What you're going to do, is surrender your vessel to me and tell your crew not to interfere with the Federation boarding party. We're here to rescue you and stop the effect that your ship is causing from spiraling out of control and destabilizing local space."

"A Friend Indeed"

Samantha Widdlestien
Lt. Jeremy Savoie
Chief Helmsman

In being the co-morale officer onboard, it was Sam's duty to make sure that everyone remained happy and joyous. Even if they didn't particularly feel like it.

Case in point: Jeremy Savoie.

She'd given him a button the other day but that had failed to keep him happy throughout the week. Sam sighed. Some people.

"Hey Cranky!" Sam hollered. "You're never going to get a date with that sour mug!"

"Aren't you a little young to be propositioning people?" Jeremy shot back, continuing his trajectory down the corridor and away from her.

"Can't you stay happy for more than a minute?" Samantha complained as she caught up to him. "I'm running a business here, buddy, and your moppiness isn't letting customers see the happiness that can be their joy enriched lives. So, what's wrong now?"

He stopped, looking up into the air in frustration.  "Who says anything is *wrong*?"  Then he shifted his glare to her.  "Just because I don't go skipping down the corridor singing about bunnies or chanting Betazoid inner peace mantras doesn't mean anything is wrong.  Got that?  Maybe this is what I'm *supposed* to be like.  Did you ever think of that?"

Sam considered. "Well, it's not a very friendly approach. How you gonna make friends if it looks like you're going to scream at the next person who approaches you? My friend, Arel, has the same problem but at least she cracks a smile once in awhile. You look like a smile would crack you, pal."

"Friends.  Now why would I want to waste my time chasing after something

that doesn't exist?  Tell me, Pollyanna, how many years have you lived on a starship? Nine?  Ten?  I'm thirty-four and aside from my time at the Academy I've lived all of them in space.  So I think I know what I'm talking about when I say that only very, *very* rarely do you come across another person you can call a friend out here.  Smiling doesn't get you friends, it gets you put down or treated like an imbecile."  To the perceptive, a small chink in Savoie's shell was starting to show.

"That's really sad," Samantha said honestly. "I think you'd have a nice smile."

Jeremy just stared at her.  It wasn't the response he expected.

"Besides," Sam added. "I can tell if a person is an idiot in the first two minutes, with or without the smile. You're not stupid, just a grouch."

Conversations with children weren't supposed to go like this, at least not in Jeremy's experience.  He had hoped she might get bored, or even cry, and then go away and leave him alone, but instead here she was analyzing his

personality. He didn't like it when people gave their unsolicited observations of what made him tick; it left him feeling naked and not knowing how to respond.  Usually it was a counselor or an XO trying to get him to "shape up", but this little girl actually seemed to be interested in him as himself, something he was not accustomed to.  He was still more likely to swat her than to give her the smile she wanted, but oddly, neither seemed appropriate at the moment.

"Let's just say that not everyone agrees with you," he finally replied after a long pause.

"I know!" Sam exclaimed. "And think of all the time that wouldn't be wasted if everyone would just realize that I'm right. I mean, the prosperity of the Federation is right here in my head, and no one will listen. Well, when Starfleet manages to blow itself into itty bitty particles, you can bet their sorry asses are going to be bemoaning the day they decided to listen to some pthak admiral over me."

She almost got him to smile over the "prosperity of the Federation" comment. Almost.

"Don't you have a mother or someone who'd love to wash your mouth out with soap for talking like that? Anyway, it doesn't matter what *you* think.

You don't hand out promotions or commendations or . . . or even friendships, for that matter," he said, his voice fading a little.

"Ooh, now look who knows so much," Sam countered, hands on her hips. "Fine then, buddy. I promote you to Captain Grouchy Pants, I commend you for *trying* to match verbal wit with my own- although you need a lot of work there, Bucky, and you are now *my* new friend, second only to Arel and that guy on deck thirteen who gave me a chocolate bar for Christmas."

"Is that a reward or a punishment?" he asked as she turned away.

Samantha laughed as she continued down the corridor. "Friends are for life, Grumpy. Should have smiled when you had the chance. See, if people'd only listen to me..."

She disappeared around a corner.

Then Jeremy smiled.

"Mischievousness Might Just Be Better Than Sex"

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineer
Ensign 8-ball Hunter, Chief of Anthropology

LOCATION: 10-4ward

8-ball was in a bad mood.

8-ball being in a bad mood was an unusual phenomenon; in the way that 8-ball having pointed ears or drinking alcoholic drinks was an unusual phenomenon. The drink she and her pointed ears were enjoying right then was another new one for her called Purple Shroud. She liked it, but not nearly as much as the one she had tried the night before, Chocolate Monkey.

The cause of 8-ball's not so unusual bad mood that particular evening was the lack of a steady guy to fill her life. She had had a few flings onboard since her stay, the most recent of which was that annoying ass's attaché, Himne, but it had sadly never seemed to develop into anything more lasting. Which was okay because flings were fun but 8-ball was getting to that age where she wanted to settle down. . .for more than one night. A good, solid, few month relationship with anyone, boy or girl, at this point, was sounding nice. She didn't want marriage or anything. She planned on enjoying her life.

It was with this thought in mind that 8-ball turned to look to see who was sitting next to her, so that she could hit on them and fulfill at least a tiny possibility that she might have a relationship that lasted more than five seconds. Unfortunately for her, the person nearest was a young woman, certainly attractive enough but very clearly female.

But pretty.

8-ball raised an eyebrow speculatively and then shrugged. What the hell? She was young.

8-ball leaned over towards the girl and said with a smile on her face, "How you doin'?"

Nara looked up from her PADD and smiled, "Good. Thank you and how are you?"

8-ball tried not to sigh. Clearly, she had been too subtle. That really WAS an unusual occurrence.

"Good," 8-ball said, lying through her teeth. "So. . .can I buy the pretty lady a drink?"

Nara didn't change her gaze or expression for a moment. Then she looked around. "Sure, I think she's around here somewhere." Nara then smiled at her, getting an idea of what this was.

8-ball looked at her in disbelief. This couldn't be happening to her.> She looked closely at Nara. "Please, please tell me you're screwing with me and that you realize that I was hitting on you. Cause otherwise, well, I guess you just figured it out." 8-ball smiled then and held out a hand. "I'm single, bisexual, and my name's 8-ball. How are you?"

Nara smirked, "Well, I wasn't sure, but thanks for clearing it up." Nara took her hand, "Single as well, but not bisexual as far as I know. My name's Nara. Fine and how are you?"

"Oh, splendid," 8-ball said sourly. "This is the first and last time I hit on a girl. Tricksy creatures. Oh well, I do better with guys anyway. It's nice to meet you, Nara. What are you doing down here by yourself, anyway? Just hanging out, or waiting on somebody, preferably male, to make a pass?"

Nara smiled, "Intention is to just be here, reading, looking at stars." She smiled, "Of course, if a certain guy happened to want to sit with me, I'd let him." The smiled turned upside down, "Of course, I doubt that happening."

8-ball ordered another drink and raised an eyebrow at Nara. "Ah-ha, so that's why you've decided to resist the advances of 8-ball Hunter; there's another man already in your life! No, don't say anything, I know that's not why, but come on, I've had a lousy day. Let me have my fantasies. Anyway, so what's this guy's name, and how can he possibly be so idiotic that he's letting such a pretty girl slip away?"

Nara smiled. She personally couldn't imagine being with another woman. Ok she could, but men just seemed to have, well more to offer. "Saul Bental. And I would guess that he doesn't know what he wants. Or something." Nara wasn't sure. He seemed interested in her, but seemed to shy away the moment he acted that way. Even act like a jerk at times.

"Oh, I know Saul," 8-ball said. "Well, sorta. I mean, we've never hung out or anything, but we were in the same class at the Academy, and we had an interesting experience in a bar once." 8-ball smiled wryly to herself, thinking of Saul entering her memory of the bar fight at Big Man's bar.

"That was. . .unique. But he seems to be like a nice enough guy. He'll come around in the slow, snail like way that men usually will. Or if not, I could go find him and tell him I'm going to steal you away if he doesn't get his act together and ask you out properly."

Nara laughed, "Thank you, but that won't be..." She closed her mouth and looked thoughtful. Half a second later, a mischievous smile crossed her face that matched the glint in her eye. "Actually that might not be a bad idea."

She looked at the woman seriously, "Just so you know it's likely not possible." Then the smile returned, "I'll let him know later, but it would be fun to see how he would react to that."

8-ball clapped her hands together and grinned. "Awesome! I have a new mission. Purpose in mischief, if not a steady romantic relationship, will keep me entertained. I'll have to go track Saul down sometime this week."

8-ball rubbed her hands together and made fun, evil cackle noises, then yawned and realized she was tired. "I think I'm going to turn in for the night," she said. "As my chance of going home to my quarters with anyone has entirely disappeared, I'd rather just go away early and get some sleep. But I'll definitely have to talk to Saul and you'll have to let me know what he says to you."

Nara smiled, "I will. Have a good night."

8-ball stood up and winked at her. "You too, oh woman of my dreams," she said and left ten-forward.

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