“So Starts a Rumor”

Naranda Roswell George Kastanza and other nameless NPCs

Nara walked down the hall feeling very odd. Saul had blown up at her. Well she was due, considering she had blown up on him more than once. Once they got to Trill, she hoped to get things clear with him. How they both felt and if there was anything to do about it. Or not. That thought made her saddest of all. Thinking that he may not like her back or that if he did, for some reason, there was nothing they could do. She was confused because she still didn’t understand why she cared.

George was standing in the hall talking to a curvy blonde who decided to wear her uniform two sizes too small. Just the kind of woman he enjoyed playing with and leaving before they realized what a loser he was. He saw Nara out of the corner of his eye and spoke louder for her to hear. “Well, mam, you’re replicator should be working fine now.”

Blondie looked at him confused, “My what?”

He whispered to her, “That thingy that gives you food when you ask for it.”

The girl glared at him, “I KNOW what it is. I’m an engineer too.”

“Yea, uh huh. That’s nice hun.”

He left her staring at him angrily. He was obviously trying to charm his way into her pants, which she was perfectly fine with. She, of course, made him work for it, but was about to invite him in when he left. She threw up her arms and headed to 10-4ward where she was sure to find a desperate man.

George ran to get in step with Nara, “Hello lovely, what has you looking so down?”

Nara sighed loudly, “Not now, Kastanza.”

George kept walking with her and a moment later, asked, “Why do you keep rejecting me?”

Nara turned to him and looked him square in the eye? “Do you REALLY want to know? Do you REALLY want to hear what a heartless playboy you are and how from the rumors on this ship that once you get one night with me, your done? Do you REALLY want to know that I find you repulsive because you KEEP bugging me?”

He looked at her unmoved, “Come on, Nara. What’s REALLY bothering you?”

Nara rolled her eyes, turned sharply and walked quicker, with George on her heels. This man was more infuriating than Saul.

He started to breathe hard, “Slow down. If I wanted to breathe hard, I would have stayed with….um…”

Nara spoke loudly out of annoyance still walking, “That’s what I’m talking about. You don’t want me. You want my body.”

“And?”

She turned to look at him. He really didn’t care. There were some people who didn’t. Sex was just an activity like playing chess or swimming to them. “And I’m worth more than that.” Her features softened, “And so are you.”

He looked at her blankly. Then he smiled, “Worth more than what sweetkins?”

“One night.”

He shrugged, “Ok. You can be one of my regulars. Let’s see. How about every other Saturday? I’ve got Karen on Saturdays, but I can make her every other as well. Or maybe two hours each and I can have both of you on Saturday.”

Nara screamed in exasperation. “NO! Not Saturdays! Not Sundays, Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays or Fridays! Not Ever! If I give my body to anyone, it’ll be to someone who cherishes ME and wants to be with ME ONLY.” She calmed down and with eyes hot with fire, “And that is NOT you, even if you weren’t such a sleaze ball.”

He put his hands on his hips, “Then WHO pray-tell IS it?” This is her last chance.

She turned, “It’s none of your business.”

He followed, “Well I hear you’ve been going to Saul’s quarters. Talking to Miramon in the messhall. And Klaus. Who, by the way, is married in case you failed to ask. Sounds like you’re a slut. And sluts are my people.”

Nara turned sharply and slapped him hard on the face. “Miramon and Klaus are friends. THAT. IS. ALL. That is all you and I will ever have, and you’ve pretty much ruined any chance of that even. So if you don’t leave me alone, I will contact O’shea and see to it that I never have to see your slimey face again! Would you LIKE to be back on the graveyard shift?”

He simply smirked, “What about Saul? You didn’t say he was a friend.”

“That’s because…” She looked at him hard, “I don’t owe you an explanation.” She walked away and shouted behind her, “Remember what I said.”

He sighed and ran off to find the voluptuous blonde toy that wouldn’t make sex sound like something more than a pleasure trip. Or perhaps to find Saul. Perhaps if he convinced Saul that Nara was seeing HIM, then Saul would ignore Nara. Then he would have more of a chance. He could see through her yelling. She SO wanted him.” He puffed out his chest and proud of his new plan decided to make a spectacle by talking to every man about his night with Nara. Oh yea. Once she heard what a great privilege it was to spend a night with him, she’d want to for real.

He saw a buddy in the hall and took his shoulder, “My friend, did you see that hottie I was just talking to?”

The taller man nodded, “The chick who was yelling at you?”

“Oh yes, that one’s full of passion. You should have heard her screaming 15 minutes ago. She couldn’t get enough. But I told her, ‘Georgie Boy has to go, Bunnikins.’ That’s why she was so mad. But as I always say, get out while they want more.”

“What’s her name?”

“Nara something.”

“Naranda Roswell?”

“Sure.”

OOC: The following is the first in a long series of posts which will appear on Miranda, Galaxy, Relentless, and Arizona. They will all be written in part by myself, with recurring help from Pat, Ian, Francis, and Kate. These posts do not necessarily relate directly to the current plotline of each sim, but are instead an important part of a much larger plot arc in all four. Expect these posts about once a month.

For more information on these stories and a running archives of all of them, I will be creating a site that will be an archive and a back story, among other things.

"Lament for Icarus, Act I, Scene 1"

Captain Juan Holmes Commanding Officer, USS Icarus

====July, 2381====

In orbit around Starbase 212, literally dozens of starships were hanging, small shuttles and pods darting about the space between them. The base's drydocks contained two more ships, a pair of Starfleet's finest, the Miranda and the Galaxy, both torn to pieces, their crews decimated.

The Battle of Havras was only eight days earlier, and already the entire political climate of the Federation had changed. The president's position was weakened, several councilors were trying to oust Fleet Admiral Ross, and, worst of all, lying to the citizenry of the Federation was now official policy, thanks to the Council's decision to hide the events of Havras from the populace, and essentially ignore the threat posed by the Breen, T'Kith'kin, and Hydrans.

Only hours before, ten Starfleet captains had met in secret on the starbase, and formed a loose, unofficial alliance of starship commanders, intent on information exchange and mutual defense, if the Federation should come under attack. They pledged to quietly spread the knowledge of the threat, and prepare the fleet in secret for an invasion that they knew had to happen eventually. Now those commanders had returned to their ships, and were preparing to leave to carry on their official missions.

Sitting almost unnoticed among the vast armada was a single seemingly-unnoteworthy vessel of average size. Her catamaran hull didn't show any outward marks of being any different than her Midway-class sisters, and as such, she typically went unnoticed.

It was in the forward conference lounge of this ship that a truly strange-looking officer stood. At thirty-one, he was one of the youngest captains serving in the fleet, but his worn face appeared to be at least two decades older. His slightly crooked nose had faint vestiges of Bajoran ridges, but they were so unpronounced that no one would mistake him for a full-blooded Bajoran. A prominent scar on his right cheek was overshadowed by the striking blue of his bionic left eye. His hair was shoulder-length and untameable, and his face perpetually appeared to have a day's growth of stubble on it.

Despite his apparent wear, he stood erect, and the uniform framing his broad shoulders was quite unique. At first glance, it was no different than any other uniform... except for the gold braid around the jacket collar. And the mid-twenty-third century style captains braids on the sleeve. And the set of pilots wings opposite the Starfleet communicator pin. And the custom tailoring.

Actually, the uniform was quite clearly NOT regulation.

The man wearing it had been at the meeting of captain's earlier, and was already sure that things would have to go much further than they had already planned for. This whole mess was created by the politicians, and they weren't about to admit the dreadful mistake that they had made.

The door to the lounge opened, and the ship's first officer walked in, not sure of what to say to his longest-standing friend. "Captain?"

Juan Holmes turned around and looked at Commander Khoma stoically. "Do you ever wonder what it is we're supposed to be doing out here, Ares? Do you ever get the feeling that we've lost our way?"

Khoma walked forward, letting the bridge door close behind him and taking a seat at the conference table. "Juan, we've been over this," he replied in a jovial tone. "We have a ship's counselor for a reason."

The half-breed captain smiled ruefully and took a seat himself. "That was a hint, wasn't it?"

"With all due respect, Juan, you've been acting like a complete horse's ass ever since Havras. I particularly liked the part where you shouted at Ensign Therrien in front of the entire bridge crew yesterday for breathing too loudly. I thought the poor girl was going to die right there, and you know that it wasn't exactly an isolated incident."

Holmes leaned forward and clasped his hands, looking down at the table top briefly before lifting his head and meeting his best friend's eyes. "You're right, of course." He stood and started to pace. "It's just that I don't think this crew has been on a strictly exploratory mission in two years. I entered Starfleet in the middle of the Dominion War, we both did. That ended and I found myself in a combat unit, refighting old battles that should never have occurred, then off to ASDB to help design combat ships, and then, when I got my own ships, we've spent most of our time chasing ghosts and watching companions get killed."

He stopped to catch his breath, staring out the viewports at the vast sea of starships, many of them still bearing battle scars. His voice got lower, and he seemed markedly calmer, if melancholy. "When the Cardassians left Bajor, I joined Starfleet to get away from killing, and now I've spent the past decade of my life just doing more of it. We could be on the brink of yet another god-forsaken war, and no one wants to admit it."

Ares Khoma walked up beside him, nodding out at the ships. "The men and women on those ships, they know, every damn one of them. They're all prepared to die in it, if needs be."

A grimace came over Holmes' face, contorting his scar as he looked at all the glittering stars beyond the ships of the Twelfth Fleet. "Yeah, but there are literally billions of people out their whose lives are at risk, and they don't even know it. They aren't prepared, and their leaders aren't even going to let them prepare. If I didn't feel an uncharacteristically altruistic desire to protect those people, I would resign here and now, turn pirate or something, just to spite the Council."

The first officer chuckled. "Sounds like fun, actually. I'm sure Jake would like it. Don't know if you could get most of the rest of the crew to follow you on that one, no matter how fiercely loyal they are to you."

The captain's eyebrow raised and he casted a sidelong glance at his companion. "Oh, I don't know, I think Ensign Therrien might come along; the kid is always willing to try another educational experience."

"After yesterday? I think she's too afraid of you."

A sigh escaped Holmes' lips, unbidden. "I suppose that at some point I should probably apologize to her. Among others."

Khoma smirked with his own personal amusement and raised the PADD that he had been holding the whole time. "No time like the present."

A slightly perplexed look crossed his commanding officer's face, and Holmes took the PADD and read it. He chuckled and looked up again. "You steered the conversation that way on purpose, didn't you?"

His XO clasped his hands behind his back and glanced sideways, looking immensely pleased with himself. "Well, now that you mention it, yes."

Shaking his head in amusement, Holmes' headed to the door. "You bastard. Send her to my ready room."

"You got it, boss."

Stopping Holmes turned. "Actually, Ares, give me five minutes to call the Relentless first. I think I ought to let Frank Therrien know that his niece just made Lieutenant jg."

====Six days later====

--USS Icarus, Near Gamma Hydra--

Holmes sat in the Icarus' command chair, reading the PADD in his hands and fuming. There was a series of reports there, some of them official, some received very unofficially from other captains. A starship had gone missing near Hydran space, and, once again, the Federation Council had classified the information, preventing the people from seeing it. As near as their little group had been able to figure out, the Integrity had been on a routine charting mission near Barzan, and two days ago, Starfleet had lost all contact. There was no trace of the ship to be found.

It could have been just a typical disappearance from accident or stellar phenomena, but the Federation Council didn't want to risk that someone might slip up and mention the Battle of Havras during the investigation, and so they stifled the information about the Integrity's disappearance. To this day, five months later, the vast majority of the Federation - and even of Starfleet - didn't even know about Havras.

Holmes put down the PADD and stared stoically forward at the viewscreen, hoping that someone would interrupt his thoughts with something actually important as a distraction.

Distraction was not long in coming.

"Captain," the communications officer piqued, "I'm picking up a distress call. It appears to be Romulan."

Holmes stood and strode over the communications console, peering at the displays. "Do you have a bearing, Ensign?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Patch it through to the conn. Lieutenant Smyth, warp eight. Engage."

The Icarus turned on her course, and went hurtling towards the unknown Romulan. Smyth spoke from the conn. "Time to position, fifteen minutes, Captain."

Sitting quietly for a moment, Holmes again turned to the young woman at the communications console. "Ensign, call all senior officers to the astrometrics lab. Send for Subcommander N'Vel, as well," he said, referring to the Romulan liaison officer on Icarus, "and Envoy Telnori."

--Astrometrics--

The astrometrics lab on Icarus was unique, not for its properties, but rather for its location. Similar to the lab brought back by the starship Voyager and since installed aboard most frontline Starfleet vessels, Icarus' lab was actually on deck one, just aft of the bridge. Holmes was known for preferring to hold staff briefings in the lab, and as his ship had a larger and more varied senior staff than most of comparable size, it was probably best.

He was standing waiting when the officers arrived, their array of uniforms packing the round chamber. He wasted no time.

"Five minutes ago, we received a distress call from a disabled Romulan cruiser. We do not know her circumstances, nor her condition, though we'll find out in ten minutes. You all know standard rescue procedure, so get moving. Dismissed."

The officers hurried out, but Holmes stopped the two non-Starfleet personnel in the room. "Envoy, SubCommander, a word please."

The Betazoid and the Romulan turned and looked at him. N'Vel looked concerned, which was understandable; He and Holmes had known each other for years, ever since they met during the war, and Holmes never called him by his rank unless it was gravely serious.

"Envoy, I need you to contact the Romulan border authorities and make it clear that a Federation starship is crossing into their territory in response to a distress call. The Titan Accords may allow us unfettered access of each other's space, but if my hunch is correct, the Romulans are probably a little edgy today."

The Betazoid woman nodded and left the room, leaving alone N'Vel with the Starfleet officer. The lab seemed a hell of a lot bigger and more empty all of a sudden.

Holmes walked to the side console and sat, staring at the veteran fighter pilot in front of him and trying to find the right words. "N'Vel, I want you to go with the first party. The crew will want a friendly Romulan face, but it's more than that. I need you to convince the vessel's commander to give us access to the ship's sensor data."

The Romulan raised his eyebrows. "Juan, you know I can't promise you that."

"I'm afraid you have to, old friend. It might be imperative."

Silence hung in the air between them, and finally, N'Vel nodded and left.

--Ready Room--

Two hours later, Holmes sat behind his desk, glancing alternately at the blurred image of two ships on the screen, and at N'Vel, standing in front of him.

The SubCommander hadn't had any difficulty getting the sensors logs from the Romulan vessel's commander, who was hoping for any information on the "unidentified assailants" that Starfleet might have.

Holmes knew exactly who they were.

He also knew that he couldn't tell the Romulan captain.

Breathing deeply, he stood and walked over to his old friend. "N'Vel, I need to talk to someone in the Romulan command - a warbird commander, an admiral, someone - someone who you trust. It needs to be done as soon as possible, it needs to be one-on-one, it needs to be secretive, it needs to be unofficial, and, most importantly, you can't let ANYONE know. Period. Not the Icarus' crew, not anyone in the Romulan fleet, no one. Can you do this."

The Romulan's eyes widened, and he nodded. "Yes, Juan, I can do this. Give me a couple of days."

Holmes smiled. "Thank you, N'Vel. I owe you one."

N'Vel left the room, and Holmes again sat down, burying his head in his hands and wondering if it would ever end.

"Removing the Blindfold"

Ensign Saul Bental
Intelligence Officer

Saul was still sitting idly in the darkened office when the door opened again. His thoughts, swinging from his agenda to the Lily squad to Nara and Branwen to the freighter and back to the agenda, were beginning to get foggy. His vision became blurry, and he was tempted to just pick up his lazy rear and go home to catch some sleep.

Five seconds after Ensign Yuuri's figure blocked the light from the door, the fog dissolved and Saul was standing on his feet, sharp and ready.

"Novitz is relaying information from the bridge." the Japanese Intelligence analyst replied Saul's question, "We don't know anything else, and the three vessels aren't responding to our hails."

"Let's take a look.", Saul said, pacing into the Intelligence center. The CIC was made of a central open space, and several smaller offices and specialized chambers. Two rows of computer consoles in the center, a large-size Holoprojector and many displays on the walls made it look like a heavily modified operations center. Right now, the yellow alert lights painted it in a faint shade of gold.

It was less intimate and technologically inferior to the Intelligence CIC on the Valkyrie, but the Valkyrie and the Galaxy didn't have the same role, and it reflected on their CICs.

Besides, as Saul told Commander Henderson once, the most important part of the Intelligence work was done inside the head of the Intelligence officers, and that's exactly what he was going to rely on right now.

"Three unidentified vessels, coming in at warp three.", Ensign Novitz told Saul as he and Yuuri approached the main control console. Novitz was an Ornaran, one of a handful of Ornarans to join Starfleet since Ornara's narcotic reliance on Brekka was broken by the crew of the Enterprise-D.

"Nyoko, we need to find out who they are. Utilize the sensors input and cross-check it with our tactical database, as I'm sure Lieutenant Abaddon's men are doing right now."

"Seren's already on it." Ensign Yuuri shot back, "I'm sure we'll get the information before they do."

Saul nodded and glanced at one of the displays, showing the current visual sensory input from the direction of the coming vessels. Their side were somewhere between small and medium, and they looked war-like. Spectrum analysis suggested that their weapons were armed.

"Your thoughts Nyoko?"

"They look war-like. They don't belong to any major power or else I would've identified them myself.", came the reply. Nyoko leaned forward, until her nose nearly touched the screen. "Nope, unfamiliar."

"Are we eavesdropping on their communications?", Saul inquired.

"We're scanning all frequencies from the moment the bridge raised yellow alert." It was Novitz's turn to reply, apparently. "They were radio-silent, and the rippling of subspace isn't helping us in picking up anything."

"Of course, they could be using some sort of communication we are unable to detect, perhaps even telepathic.", Nyoko contributed.

"This is not good." Saul scowled. "I don't think there are any reinforcements the Captain can ask for in this part of space. It was an advantage so far, since as far as I know the less warp travel done near the shuttle, the better… but I sure wish we had an escort right now, since…"

The end of that sentence was left unsaid. The three of them knew that it was going to be the first space battle the Galaxy will be part of since Havras. Both Nyoko and Novitz transferred to the Galaxy to replace crewmembers who died during that fight.

"Computer, show a map of space, twenty light years in diameter.", Saul commanded. The air above the Holoprojector rippled for a moment, then the map was formed.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but their propulsion systems don't look too impressive. Their base of operations is probably nearby." Saul said after a moment of thought.

"Maybe they were attached to a larger vessel, a mothership of some sort.", Nyoko suggested.

At that exact moment, the three interceptor ships decreased speed and prepared to drop out of warp. The displays around them flickered as a surge of new sensory data came in, followed by Seren's voice.

"I have results. Are you interested to know who is driving the darts?", The Vulcan asked. Saul rolled his eyes, and Nyoko leaped and nearly landed on the gaunt Chief Petty officer's head.

"Oooooh – Dreshayans. Yuck.", she said.

"They do have an outpost nearby." Came a new voice. They were joined by Philipe Dupont, the Intelligence department's Visint officer. "I came as soon as I heard the yellow alert."

"I'm unfamiliar with them." Saul admitted. The name rang familiar, but other than that he didn't know anything. So much for 'an expert in Interstellar politics and history'.

"They are Humanoid.", said Nyoko. "Not part of the Federation, but their three systems are within Federation space. I suppose you could call them a 'protectorate' of the UFP, but they are arrogant enough to think that they are the gods' gift to all living kinds."

"Arrogant?", Saul asked.

"Try 'snobbish'."

"Try 'Irritating, cocky and bossy little buggers with megalomania on the side'.", Dupont offered, imitating Nyoko's high-pitched voice.

"Try 'French'.", Nyoko retorted.

"Try acting like adult Intel officers." Saul sighed. "Novitz, please relay the information to the bridge if they don't know it already, plus every schematic of the vessels we have in our database. I'm glad we beat tactical to it. 'Dart', you called it?"

"Aye." Novitz said, and turned around to do as Saul asked.

Or was it 'ordered'?

Saul hesitated for a moment as he replayed the latest events in his mind.

With Dobryin on the away mission, the Intelligence department didn't have any official second in command. Other than the fact that he was going to be given the leadership of the secondary unit, the other officers didn't have any reason to do as he says, or to offer him explanations.

And yet, they did, even though he didn't outrank them.

Saul decided to think it later, and focus on the task at hand. If he was going to play leader, he can't afford to sink into philosophical contemplations.

"Darts. The Dreshayan pilot's interceptor of choice.", proclaimed Nyoko. "It is medium range, so the base of operations should indeed by nearby. It is heavily armed compared to its size, but the extra weaponry is balanced by smaller fuel cells, weaker maneuverability and thin shields. It has an excellent acceleration, though, earning it the nickname 'dart', and in the hands of an experienced Dreshayan pilot the poor shields won't be tested easily."

"That's all very nice, but who said we're going to test them?" Saul countered, folding his arms. "If the Dreshayans reside within Federation space, even as an independent entity, they know better than to attack a Starfleet vessel – or a freighter boarded by a Starfleet shuttle."

Nyoko, Saul and Dupont glanced promptly at one of the displays, showing the SS Danner's Fold.

"Yes, but their weapons are hot." Nyoko broke the silence. "If they're taking this tremendous risk, they must have a motive."

"Perhaps.", Seren, who remained quiet since making his find, interjected. "Their seemingly illogical behavior is related to our speculations – that the Danner's Fold carries a cargo of weapons?"

"Yes, or perhaps it is because they detected the phenomenon and think it is some sort of weapon that might be used against their outpost.", Saul speculated, "But it would be highly unlikely, since if they were fully aware of the phenomenon they wouldn't have approached at warp speed."

"Look!"

Nyoko turned their attention to what was going outside the Galaxy. One of the Dreshayan vessels hit the Guadeloupe with antique yet nastily effective projectile weapons, effectively tearing it away from the Danner's Fold.

"Miramon!" Saul shouted.

The center vessel wreaked havoc on the Danner's Fold, and then something came through the Communications eavesdropping station. Ensign Dupont conveyed the message to the main speakers, and Adair's voice echoed throughout the Intel CIC.

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

"They are gambling." Saul muttered, "The Galaxy can take them out. Heck, the Vanguards can take them out."

"It would be too risky with the subspace rift.", Dupont commented, "All of our efforts to solve this problem can go to waste if the phasers will expand the rift. We are in big trouble."

Nyoko Yuuri bore a hole through the display showing the central dart with an angry gaze.

"Damn uppity French." She hissed in Japanese.

'Who needs sleep?'

*backpost* takes place just before the away mission

Ensign Tizarin Lias
Ensign Colby Elliot

Colby stepped out of the turbo lift and paused before moving down the corridor to rub his eyes then shake his head as if trying to sake the weariness off himself, it didn’t work. He straightened up then went on down the corridor, stepping into sick bay and looking around for a doctor.

Looking around the medlab Colby spotted a young woman standing the in medical officer, walking toward her Colby asked, “Excuse me, are you a doctor?” It was a silly question, she was here and in a blue tunic, not much chance she was something else but he decided to air on the side of caution, knowing his luck she’d be part of the science team.

"No, I'm an exotic dancer." Tizarin Lias said, with a grin on her round face. "That's a silly question. So, let me guess; having trouble sleeping. I'm thinking that's going to turn into an epidemic on this ship. With everyone trading one another's dreams. Tizarin Lias is my name- what's yours ?"

“Colby Elliot,” Colby said, he hadn’t gotten back long ago and wasn’t sure what the ‘dream trading’ was all about but figured it didn’t matter at this point.

The Trill extended her hand. "A pleasure. Now, what can I do you for ?" she asked. "I'm prepping for an away mission- ergo the overstuffed bag on the biobed. But, I never turn a patient away. So, what ails you- in 40 words or less, and I'll have you ship shape in Bristol fashion as quick as I can."

Tizarin was in an almost uncharacteristic good mood; she had been assigned her first away mission aboard the Galaxy. Branwen was going-the young Marine was becoming a close friend. Not as special, in her heart, as Madison. But, a good friend. And Claire Barnes was also assigned. Tizarin had a feeling she had been on the receiving end of some of Claire's memories of late, and wanted a chance to see if this was true.

She clapped her hands together, once, in front of Colby. "Is it just trouble sleeping, or is there something else ?"

“It is,” Colby said, “I,” he paused, not sure how much he wanted to say. Obviously he wouldn’t saw much but even little pieces felt like giving too much away. “I’ve been on leave since the ship moved to take on the Breen and I got back a few days ago.” Colby said, summing up the entire odyssey simply. “At first I just had bad dreams,” he shook his head, “Now I’m not sleeping at all.”

Tizarin nodded her head, knowingly. "Don't worry, Mr. Elliot. There's nothing wrong with you. Well... nothing that isn't effecting at least 80% of this crew- even the Captain. We've come into some kind of time-distortion. People have been experiencing each other's memories...and some of them are very vivid." her own thoughts wandered to her experience with her Ugly Man, revived from her nightmares of many years passed.

Colby sighed and shook his head, wondering just how much he would have to give away before what he was trying to say was clear. “Its not like that,” Colby said, until he walked in he hadn’t heard of any of this, he had heard people talking about shit and now it all fit together but not until now. “I’ve just had a really bad few months and now I’m not sleeping.” Colby explained, “I was just wondering if I could get something to help me sleep that’s all.”

"Yes... I can easily perscribe a sleep inducer, and still make my shuttle." Tizarin said. "But, be warned, Mr. Elliot, sleeping has turned into something of an at-your-own-risk venture aboard this ship."

Colby’s eyes narrowed, “At my own risk?”

"Like I said, dream-switching." Tizarin replied. "If I give you a sleep inducer, do you promise to report any abnormalities in your dreaming or sleep patterns to someone here in sickbay ?"

The operations officer nodded, “If anything like that happens you’ll be the first to hear about it.”

"And, if I'm not aboard this ship, I do have a boss- Doctor Feinberg." Tizarin said. "You could always report to him." she moved to an instrument cart, and grabbed a hypospray.

“I’ll remember that,” Colby said, the image of a shovel appeared in his mind, the handle worn down, the blade rusted and dented. He forced the image out, first picturing Amanda, then saying the names of STS. Wilkins, Rourke, Tave, Smith, Zell, Sirin and then that bastard Chris Coxen. “If you’re not here, Feinberg, got it.”

"I''ve been assigned to an away mission to a freighter hanging nearby." Tizarin said, as she filled the hypospray. "So, you're my last patient before I report to the shuttlebay."

“Well I won’t keep you any longer,” Colby said with a nod, “If anything happens a let you know but as long as I can get some sleep I think I can deal with anything else.”

"Good luck." Tizarin said, cheerfully. "You may need it if you inherit anyone else's dreams."

"Rats in a maze"

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

Cmdr. Karyn Dallas
Chief Counselor

::: Freighter's crawl space :::

Anna and Karyn crawled for a few more minutes, until Anna had to stop since Karyn wasn't able to help that much. They said nothing, just both laid there resting, hoping to the Gods they had lost the people that was after them. "I think... their pirates." Anna said, finally as she rested her arm over her eyes. Her head was aching, probably from the starchy air inside the crawl space. "We need to get out of here, find other members of the away team."

"Your the engineer, where's the nearest access hatch is?" Karyn asked, trying to help all she could even though she was still having to battle the thoughts and memories from Cutter.

"I... I think there is one just up ahead. The way they've changed around the engines, they very well could have wielded the access hatch closed." Anna replied, before looking over at her. "Are you able to crawl with me, do you need me to help you?"

"I'll need help." Karyn said.

Anna nodded. "I'm going to lay on my stomach, see if you can crawl slightly up on my back. I'll carry you that way."

"No, it'll be to hard on you."

"We don't have a choice commander." Brianna insisted, before laying down. Once she felt Karyn crawl up over her, Brianna pulled her knees up under her body. "Hold on to me.." Anna said, then began to crawl down the crawl space. Beads of sweat started for form on the Starfleet lieutenant as she crawled along the small space, her knees were killing her and her hands bleeding slightly from something that had cut her along the way. Once they reached the access hatch, Anna moved Karyn off to the side and moved to open it, just as she did, it opened itself and three Nausicaans standing there, one reached in and grabbed Anna's hair and lifted her out and tossed her against the bulk head. While the other two grabbed Karyn and hoisted her out.

"We should kill you now, Human," He said, "for making us hunt your Federation ass." He said, then back handed Anna hard enough to just about make her flip to the side. Reaching down he grabbed her by the throat. "You are now our prisoners..." He said, then laughed, if a Nausicaan could laugh at all.

“What’s This Now?”

Naranda Sol Roswell George Kastanza and Mei and some other NPCs

LOCATION: Main Engineering, particularly around warp core.

The air around the several workstations forming a ring around the warp core was rather thick today. Around the rest of Engineering, people whispered and some glanced at Naranda Roswell and then at George Kastanza. Nara narrowed her eyes looking at George, who looked a bit too pleased with himself. Something was up with Mei as well. She tried to ignore it and looked back down. “Mei, what is the latest reading?”

“Twenty-two and sex.”

Nara barely caught it, “What?”

Mei looked up trying to talk, but instead blushed, “Sorry.”

Nara laughed, “Have a good time with your guy last night?”

Mei shook her head, “We didn’t go out.”

Nara’s frown fell and she looked around again and then to George who looked up at her and smiled. She looked back at Mei, “What is everyone whispering about?”

Mei shrugged nervously. “Oh you know rumors on starships.”

“No I don’t. At least not this one. It would seem I am in the middle of it. What are they saying?”

Mei looked over at Kastanza and looked back at Nara shamed, “It’s not really a bad rumor.”

Nara saw Mei look at Kastanza and followed the gaze. She glared at him speaking to Mei, “Never mind.” If possible, she would had jumped through the core to grab Kastanza’a throat. Instead, she briskly walked around and resisting the urge to grab his neck, practically growled, “Why the heck do you look so smug?”

George smiled at her. Perfect. She was talking to him. She came to him, instead of him usually going to her. This should confirm what he’s been telling folks. “We’ll talk tonight, dear.”

Nara clenched her fist, “We will talk now.”

George tilted his head, “Aw, love. I know you can’t wait, but we’re on duty.”

At that moment, his neighbor laughed, “Boy, you DID leave her wanting more.”

Nara looked at the man, “Wanting more of what?”

The man looked up, “More of Georgie’s lovin.”

Nara’s eyes grew wide. “WHAT?!”

With that, everyone’s eyes shot to Nara. The current person in charge walked over. “Back to work people. It’s crunch time, remember? Crisis.” The superior sighed. It was hard to remember down here in the bowels of the ship. Things seemed so normal. But out there…things were brewing.

Nara got to her station and heat rose to her cheeks. She managed to whisper to Mei, “Whatever he’s saying, it isn’t true.”

Mei looked at her, “I know. I already knew. The only way he could get that from you was if he forced it from you.”

Nara looked up at Mei and smiled thankfully. She then looked at Kastanza and Mei’s words echoed in her mind. A shudder ran through her body as he turned from a nuisance to a threat. He had possibly ruined her reputation, and she feared he would somehow try to make the rumor true. Nara took a deep sigh looking back at her console. Once they got out of this mess, she’d have to do something. But not now. Even though paranoia leapt at her, Kastanza proved no real threat.

"Stepping In" -or- "How JAG responds to idiots" take your pick. :)

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell,
Engineering Ensign Emily Fellbaum, JAG Officer

Nara stood at the replicator trying to decide what drink she would like to try today. She tried catagorizing them by planet origin, alphebetically, synthenol ratio, color and any other sorting option the computer allowed her.

Emily stood in line a few people back from the front. She could make out a young girl about her own age who was taking her time up at the replicator. The girl was taking her time, but Emily didn't mind. She was in no hurry. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said about the line behind her that was about to turn mob.

Nara could hear sighing and tapping of boots. Normally she would back off, but she was barely there. She didn't care at the moment. She felt like a hard Klingon at the moment. Confusion had turned to pain and pain to just not caring and just plain numb. In this mood, it didn't matter who she ticked off. In fact, deep down she may had even been looking to fight.

Before, in her quarters, after leaving Saul's, she had sat thinking. Sure, this business with Saul was hard, but did it also bring up other issues? Issues that the memory jumping also awakened. Issues she didn't want to get into. So she came down to 10-4ward to try a new drink. Something to get her mind off her ghosts.

"Hey lady, come on!" A man barked behind Nara. She ignored him and was rewarded by a deep angry sigh. She saw a large man out of the corner of her eye come beside her. "There are other people in line."

"Chill out! Would ya?" Emily yelled back at the disgruntaled man, rolling her eyes.

Nara scowled without looking at him while she kept scrolling. "Hence the purpose of a line is complete. They have to wait their turn."

"You can just transfer the list to a PADD and decide at a table!" He bellowed.

Nara looked behind her and smirked back at him, "And get in the back of such a long line?" She frowned, "I think not." She gave a fake smile and turned back to the scrolling. She wasn't really looking anymore. She had seen all there was and now was just enjoying ticking this guy off.

"Get out of line before I call security!"

Nara rolled her eyes, "Ok. Fine! I know what I want." She smirked again, "Sadly it's not programmed, so it'll take a few moments to do that." She began typing.

His face grew red, "Screw security, I'll remove you myself!"

When he had grabbed her arm, Nara's adrenaline shot up and jerked her arm away. Barely resisting the instinct to fight, she hollered "Never touch me!" She found herself frightened then. The memories of the rape, the interrogation, all flooded back. But she kept the fire in her eyes and her muscles tense.

Emily watched as the girl dislodged herself easily. The man was now furious and was now moving to grab her again. It was not going to happen. Feeling her own anger boil up, Emily imposed herself between the burly man and the fightened and upset girl. "You DON'T want to be doing that!" Emily said, staring the man down.

"Says who?" the man, who looked to be a crewman from the operations department.

Emily reached into her pocket and flipped out her badge. It was a nice thing being with one of the special branches of Starfleet, you got to carry a badge to identify you with like those old style 2D shows. "Says me." she said, holding her JAG badge up for him and everyone else in line to get a good look at. "Cause right now you're looking at, at least, overnight in the brig for aggravated assault pending formal inquiry. And should the lady behind me choose to press charges, I would be more than happy to plead her case before a military tribunal as a first hand witness when she was doing nothing more than making a selection at the replicator when lo and behold some disgrunteled fellow who obviously was in the wrong came out of nowhere and grabbed the poor innocent lady for no reason whatsoever with the intent to harm. And then we move on to trial by court-martial in which you would need a really good lawyer for the proceedings and whatever the outcome of it your career would be SO tarnished just by the fact that you HAD a court-martial in the first place and then for years to come people will be asking why you had one and you'd have to tell them it was for a stupid reason like you were impaitent to get to the replicator in the first place."

Nara winced behind the woman. Oh what a scene she caused. Of course she barely had a chance to mutter never mind.

She had been talking so fast through all of this that people were beginning to wonder if she ever took a breath in between sentences. Or if there were even any sentences in that whole speel. She was still going on to the ops crewman who was now looking really embarrassed. "But at worse you'd have to explain your 'crime' to all of your fellow inmates at whatever prison and/or reeducation facility that you get sent to and believe me I've seen some of the crime that people have committed and I've seen what prison life is like and you'd be the laughing stock of the whole place just cause you manhandled an innocent girl who wanted nothing more than to quench her thirst at the public replicator. And we haven't even began to touch on the subject of witnesses cause I'd have to call eveyone in here who saw this little incident in for questioning and I'm sure they would ALL love to do that."

Nara rolled her eyes. This lady was on a real roll. She smiled and held back the snicker.

Everyone in line groaned.

"So mister operations person, if all of that wasn't a good enough reason NOT to continue on your previous train of thought, maybe the simple fact that I'm a ranking officer over you would be?" She batted her eyelashes at him. "Wouldn't you agree?" she smiled sweetly.

The Operataions Crewman shuffled in place and looked down at the deck as if he wanted it to open up and swallow him whole. "Um... er... yes ma'am... sorry ma'am..."

"Good." Emily cooed, then her voice and face turned ugly. "NOW GET OUTTA HERE!"

The crewman bolted, not able to get out of there as fast as he would've liked to. Emily turned to the young girl. "Are you ok?" she asked.

Nara blushed nodding at the lady. She saw the onlookers and having the figurative slap in the face realized what a prick she was being. She cleared the screen and smiled to the others, "Sorry." She briskly walked to the bar as heat rose in her face. She turned to the JAG officer, "That really was my fault. I guess I was feeling like making trouble."

"Its ok." Emily said. "But next time can I suggest doing it outside of the dinner rush?" she asked politely as she indicated the line that was still formed and was watching them.

Nara smiled, "Of course. And thank you. I'm Nara, by the way." She held out her hand.

"Emily" she said, shaking her hand. "So why don't we sit together?" she offered.

Nara looked over to the line who was either giving her a confused, she must be phsyco look or an angry, I'll punch her look. "Maybe best." She walked over to the far corner table close to the windows where she always sat.

Emily followed her over after ordering her food. "I wouldn't mind them too much. People get irritated at times when things don't go their way. So what department do you work in?" she asked, sitting down with Nara.

"Engineering." She had then realized she still hadn't gotten a drink. She decided to punish herself for being foolish and be thirsty as she watched the line get shorter and peace return to 10-4ward.

"Been there long?" Emily asked as she noticed Nara looking longingly at the replicator line. "Something wrong?" she asked.

"Less than a year." She looked at Emily, "No. I'm fine."

They seemed to sit there in silence for awhile. Emily had been quietly regarding her. She was a cute girl, after all. "Don't talk much, do you?" she asked gently.

Nara smiled, "Sorry. I'm preoccupied. One reason I was so stubborn at the replicator was I felt like being nasty to someone. I guess I was trying to pick a fight." She looked down shamed.

"Why is that Nara?" Emily asked. "You seem so sweet."

Nara looked down blushing, "Thank you, but I also have a wicked streak. It's what helps me in the battlefield. The sweet came from mom, the warrior came from dad. I'm a mix of Paris and Achilles." Nara spoke of an old story based on Earth called the Illiad; particularly the battle of Troy.

"Wow..." Emily said, amazed. She caught the refrences.

Nara furrowed a brow looking at the stars, "Well, I guess it doesn't sound so great to compare anyone to them. Paris was just a love-sick boy who cowared behind his brother when he lost a fight and Achilles killed and killed and had no loyalty."

"More Therapy"

Bran
Ella

****

Bran had taken a while to puzzle out Ella's past with the clues she had been given. Yet finally she found an article about Ella's missing and being found later beaten and nearly strangled. This had to be still traumatic for her or Ella would not have given her the hint.

So that evening she again went to Ella's quarters.

Ella laughed. *YOU ARE LIKE A BAD PENNY.*

"I found it, Ella. And now I am back." She came in and sat down on the couch. "Why did you want me to find out about that incident?"

*FIGURED I'D GIVE YOU THE SAME STARTING GROUND AS MY PAST THERAPISTS.*

"I am not your therapist, Commander Dallas is. I would like to be a friend." Bran said.

*OH DIDN'T SHE TELL YOU? DALLAS NEEDS A BREAK FROM ME FOR AWHILE AND SINCE I FEEL SOOO COMFORTABLE WITH YOU...*

"She what... I find that hard to believe, Commander Dallas has much more experience then I have besides I think she has some reservation about me seeing naval patients." Bran said surprised.

Ella smiled sweetly. *SO, WHAT APPROACH DO YOU TAKE? COGNITIVE? DREAM THERAPY? SHOULD I LAY DOWN ON THE COUCH. OOOH? ARE WE GOING TO CHANT?*

"What have your other therapists tried. Maybe you should tell me that first so I don't bore you with more of the same." The young marine smiled.

*SWEETIE, I'VE DONE IT ALL. EXCEPT THE VULCAN MIND MELD OF COURSE. SO, I'LL GIVE YOU FIVE QUESTIONS AND THEN ITS MY BEDTIME.*

"If I am to be your shrink I will not be pushed by you, Ella. We play this the marine way, me calling the shots not you. You keep saying you are totally happy and yet you are also giving of other signals like me finding out about your past. Quit playing and get serious about yourself."

Ella sighed. *YOU'RE NO FUN AT ALL*

"Not when I am working and that was your choice, dear."

*YOU'RE CALLING THE SHOTS, BRAN. WHERE DO WE START?*

Bran did not trust her at all. "Tell me about the incident I just read about."

*WHAT'S THERE REALLY TO TELL? I WAS KIDNAPPED AND FOUND LATER ALL BEAT UP*

"Yes I read that, I am sure it is not all you remember?"

Ella sighed to herself, not really happy with the way that this was turning out. *YES, I REMEMBER MOST OF IT.*

"Then tell me in detail, Ella. Tell me your emotions, what went through your head."

Her face darkened. *WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK I WAS FEELING? THEY GRABBED ME FROM BACKSTAGE AND KEPT ME FOR TWO DAYS. I WAS TERRIFIED.*

"Terrified is an abstract word, tell me how you felt." Bran urged.

She had never really explained- not a play by play at least- of what had happened those days. Not even to Karyn. Not even to Victor. It would be...odd to tell someone. She'd wanted to keep it to herself for so long... but there were just too many other skeletons too worry about now, she supposed.

*I WOKE UP IN THE DARK. IN SOME KIND OF CELLAR. I WAS THERE FOR SOMETIME BEFORE THEY LET ME OUT.*

"Hmm" Bran just said and waited for Ella to type more.

*HE MADE ME SING FOR HOURS.* Ella typed with a frown. *HOURS UPON END, LIKE I WAS SOME SORT OF PERSONAL RECORD PLAYER OF HIS. DO YOU KNOW HOW THAT FEELS, BEING FORCED TO DO SOMETHING OUT OF FEAR THAT YOU'LL BE KILLED IF YOU HIT THE WRONG NOTE? AND TERRIFIED IS NOT AN ABSTRACT WORD, THANK YOU VERY MUCH*

"I know." Bran said softly not taking her eyes off Ella.

*I THINK I'M DONE FOR TODAY* Ella wrote dismissively.

"No. Don't run away again. Stay with those feelings, allow them in. I think you have done enough running."

*IT DOEST MATTER ANYWAY* Ella wrote to her, almost as if she didn't hear the counselors words. *I DIDN'T CHOOSE TO STOP SPEAKING BECAUSE OF WHAT HAPPENED TO ME. IF ANYTHING, IT HELPED ME OPEN MY EYES. I GUESS I JUST FELT LIKE TELLING SOMEONE.*

"Why did you stop speaking?" Bran questioned.

*BECAUSE EVERYONE WANTED ME TO. AND I WAS SO VERY TIRED AT THAT POINT OF DOING WHAT EVERYONE WANTED ME TO*

"Everybody wanted you to stop speaking? Define that for me, and tell me why those people wanted you to stop?"

Ella sighed. *I WASN'T AWAKE FOR MORE THAN TEN MINTUES BEFORE I HEARD THEM WANTING TO KNOW IF I WAS GOING TO BE ABLE TO SING AGAIN. HERE I WAS, LYING IN A HOSPITAL BED AND THEY WERE TRYING TO ARRANGE MY NEXT CONCERT. MY FIANCEE WAS CONCERNED MY FACE WOULD BE SCARRED FOR THE WEDDING. THEY CAME INTO MY ROOM WITH ALL THESE DEMANDS UPON THEIR FACES, ALL THESE THINGS THAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO DO... AND I DECIDED I DIDNT WANT TO ANYMORE. I DIDN'T WANT TO SING, I DIDN'T WANT TO MARRY SOMEONE THAT I DIDNT LOVE, EVERYONE WANTED ME "TO" SOMETHING AND i JUST DIDN'T FEEL LIKE IT. I DIDN'T FEEL LIKE TALKING. SO I DIDN'T*

"Do you like to sing?" Bran simply asked in response.

*SURE, WHEN I WAS EIGHT.* Ella replied making a face. *SOMETIMES I DO MISS IT, BUT ONLY I THINK BECAUSE IT WAS FAMILIAR.*

"I don't know. "Bran said casually. "It sounds to me like you are making them win."

*AND I DISAGREE.* Ella responded. *AND SO ENDETH THE DISCUSSION*

"For now." Bran said she would not give up.

*YES,* Ella agreed in writing. *FOR NOW*

"Do something for me this week Ella? Write down everything you think are advantages and disadvantages about not talking and be honest to yourself, ok?"

Ella smiled to herself. If only Bran knew that she had already done that. Weighed, judged, and decided. But the best surprises were those you didn't tell but sprung.

*OKAY, BRAN*

"You and Me and the Other Makes Three"

by

Lt. Jasmine Heloi, Vanguard Squadron Executive Officer
Lt. JG Tarin Iniara, Chief Operations Officer

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

"None, sir. I can't cut through the interference."

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

"Aye, sir." Iniara placed her hands flat on the console, her eyes unfocusing as she concentrated on locating the away team. The distance to the freighter was significant; reaching it would be quite difficult.

She took a deep breath, dropping her mental shields entirely as she did so trying to pinpoint a single person so far away, especially someone to whom she had never spoken, was going to require everything she had.

~*Tarin to Heloi!*~ she began, projecting it as 'loudly' as she could. ~*Three ships approaching your position. Have the team stand ready. Please acknowledge!*~

Her nerves on edge, Iniara focused hard, waiting for a reply.

---

Freighter

The flashes of memory and thoughts were overwhelming. It was only through sheer will alone that she remained standing, if not entirely 'there.' The loss of her mental shields, especially for one of Jasmine's age and telepathic strength, was all but a death knell for all but the most highly trained of Betazoids. Due to her time spent away from home, she was not highly trained. Now, now it was telling.

Through the blur of blue hands, the voices screaming, crying, and begging, one suddenly blared to life. Not quite sane laughter bubbled out of her as she 'heard' the warning.

~*Two by two. Hands of blue. Closer they come. The fabric rips in twain. Dimensions become one. Dark, light - they are the same. Ships, ships pass in the night...Danger here, danger there...*~ Heloi replied with almost careless ease. The thoughts were a jumble of impressions, memories, and insights that together made little sense.

"What?" Iniara shook her head to clear it, her eyes once more coming into focus on the console in front of her. That wasn't right. But the images were there, even if the reply itself made no sense. Now wasn't the time to worry about that, however.

~*You are in danger! Notify the away team, tell them to stand ready!*~ she repeated, hoping it would somehow cut through whatever Heloi was caught in at the moment.

~*Danger, danger, Will Robinson. Don't you understand?!*~ Jasmine's mental voice sounded panicked, ~*They're already here. It's too late. Too late unless the rip is mended. Unless they return, all is lost.

Can't you feel them? Can't you see? We're not alone...I,*~ her thoughts dropped to a whisper, ~*I want to believe.*~

With those words, she sent the other voice images of what she saw...images of the insight only insanity could bring. In those jumbled images one thing stood firm - something that did not belong was there, in Jasmine's mind, with her. It was that, and something else, that caused the spark of sanity that held Jasmine's soul to retreat into a dark and cold self-imposed prison.

The images flooded into Iniara's brain, reminding her of the moment when she had sensed...something. Somethings. She had been scared then; she could only imagine what Heloi, operating it seemed with no mental shields at all, was feeling at the moment. ~*I can feel them, Jasmine. I can feel it,*~ she repeated, now referring to the thing that was invading Jasmine's brain.

"Captain, I am communicating with Heloi now," Iniara reported out loud. "Something has caused her mental shields to collapse. She's no longer herself."

If only we were closer, Iniara thought. She could have used her own abilities to help hold up Jasmine's mental shields, but the distance was far too great for her to even attempt it. Instead, she had to try and get the woman focused, back in the present.

~*Jasmine, you have to focus. Focus on my voice. Three by three, listen to me. Hands of white, use these to write. Pick up your tricorder. Type this message: In danger, regroup now. Danger here, danger there, danger danger everywhere. Three by three, hear my plea. Focus. On me. Please.*~ The rhymes were terrible, but maybe it would work. Maybe.

A girlish giggle was the first part of Jasmine's reply, ~*Ring around the rosey, pocket full of posey...ashes, ashes, we all fall down! Ding, dong the witch is dead. Which old witch? The wicked witch! Ding, dong, the witch is dead! We...represent the lollipop guild. The lollipop guild. The lollipop guild. We...represent the lollipop guild! And we wish to welcome you to Munchkin Land! Can you say ping?*~ The channels were changing in Jasmine's mind, flick, flick, flick. ~*Two by two. Hands of blue. Three by three? Don't scare me.*~

Iniara's eyes widened. She had never seen this happen to a Betazoid before. Was I like this, she thought to herself, before I learned to form my own mental shields? The thought scared her.

She turned back to the captain, tiny beads of sweat now beginning to form on her temples. "Sir, I don't know if I can get through to her. Not the real Jasmine Heloi, at least. Something is in there with her-- in her mind. All I'm getting now are bizarre rhymes and mental images."

She decided to try one last thing. Leaving the remains of Jasmine

Heloi's mind to her ramblings, Iniara focused instead on the uninvited guest, the dark thing pushing its way into the pilot's head.

~*Who are you?*~ she shouted at the presence. ~*What do you want? Tell me!*~

On the freighter, Jasmine stopped moving. Ignoring the cajoling of her companions, she concentrated on the voice in her mind. For a moment, but a moment the real Jasmine replied, ~*All it wants, all it needs, is food. Our minds, our memories...we are cattle. Shut the rift. Quickly. Before more than the one escapes. Otherwise, all telepaths will be locked in this hell. Shields are gone, something here on the freighter...can't hold on, can't keep contained...Shield, Tarin, SHIELD!*~ With those words, her mind spiraled away again.

Deep in her mind, the Other reached for the voice in the Galaxy.

Reflexively, Iniara's shields shot up, all but severing the connection.

"We have to close the rift, now!" she exclaimed, realizing too late how blatantly obvious such a statement was. She should have shouted

'Vulcans bleed green!' or 'I breathe air!'; neither statement would have been any less obvious.

"Sir, they're feeding on us," she continued, her voice significantly quieter. "Our memories, I mean. We're their food. The longer the rift stays open, the more danger we are in."

Iniara turned back to the Other, observing it cautiously through the heavy barrier of her mental shields. How could she communicate with it? How could she stop it? If she distracted it, gave it another mind to occupy, perhaps it would free Jasmine?

No, that's a stupid idea, she thought to herself. There was no guarantee Jasmine would be able to get her own shields back up, or that another one of these beings wouldn't jump forward to fill the void left by his companion. But maybe if she distracted it...

Slowly she lowered her shields, bit by bit. ~*Hey mister,*~ she called out to the Other, ~*Step away from the pretty lady, and nobody gets hurt.*~

In retrospect, that too was a stupid idea. Someday she would learn to make better decisions, but not today.

The Other paused in it's feeding. Yet another telepath, for he pulled the thought from Jasmine's mind, was reaching for him. On the other vessel - how puny they were! How frail! Nothing but food, nothing but cattle. If it had a mouth it would have smiled. He recognized it for a taunt, for taunt it was. 'Dare you, dare you.' It wanted him to abandon his current host...and he could not deny that it would be better for him to leave now. His host was dying. A telepath without shields as he had discovered was vulnerable enough to receive both him and the necessary memories for his sustenance. However, an overload was the only possible result of his presence. Jasmine would die. And he would have to find another.

~*You mock me puny one,*~ he replied, ~*And I deny you. Soon you will know me as intimately as this one. Time is, after all, on my side. Something to remember me by.*~ With that, he closed communication but not before pulling some sustenance from the other telepath's mind.

Iniara could feel the huge presence turning its attention to her, and it scared her. But now was not the time to show fear, or hesitation. ~*You wanna put a little money on that, mister? I’m not normally a betting lady, but for you I'll make an exception.*~

Jasmine Heloi, the real Jasmine Heloi, was caught in a vortex of memories and thoughts that threatened to steal her identity away on mental winds. That she had been able to fight through the vortex and reply as herself to Tarin was a small victory. However, now that victory was telling. With the intimate knowledge that every Betazoid held of her body she knew the mental strain was beginning to wear her down. Without being able to raise her shields or obtaining a shielding medical compound she was dying. She could not allow the Other to escape from the confines of her mind and into anyone else's.

She MUST not.

With that thought in mind, she began to gather her strength to fight back. And to, perhaps, regain control of her mind and self.

~*Good, Jasmine; good,*~ Iniara sent quietly. She could feel the other woman getting stronger; she was still very weak but not as weak. Maybe if she could keep the Other out of her own mind, yet keep it from attacking Jasmine's mind...

Oh, but that was going to take a lot of work. Maybe a distraction might help.

Iniara conjured an image of a poker table with four chairs circling it, then sent it across the link. With luck this would confuse the Other, and not anger it. After all, the only thing worse than an Unknown Evil Thing was an Angry Unknown Evil Thing. She plopped down unceremoniously in one of the chairs, leaning it back and kicking a foot up on the table. ~*Two by two, kiss my shoe.*~

A deck of playing cards appeared in her hand; she shuffled them several times before slapping them down on the table. She gestured to them with one hand. ~*Three by three, cut these for me.*~

A moment passed and nothing happened. ~*Don't know how to cut? Okay, I'll do it for you.*~ She reached out and picked up a portion of the deck, then placed the remaining portion on top.

~*See? Easy.*~ And then she began to deal the cards.

The Other came forward then, pushing against Iniara’s shields with an unexpected amount of force. ~*Do not taunt me, puny one. Your mental shields are nothing to me.*~ Then it reached out towards her.

Back on the freighter, Jasmine felt as if a huge weight was being slowly lifted from her mind. It was still very much there, but now it seemed as if the burden was being shared. Now instead of the all-encompassing feeling of the Other inside her brain, it almost felt like the thing was caught in the middle, halfway between her mind and Tarin’s.

It wasn’t much, but it helped. Slowly she focused her willpower, struggling to get her mental shields back up.

In her mind, Iniara struggled hard to keep from shrieking. The force of the thing had struck her like nothing she had ever experienced before. With all her strength she fought to hold on, even as she felt the core of herself retreating to a dark place.

~*Your memories will be delicious. Do you see?*~ The Other lashed out, diving into the wealth of memories he found. ~*Delicious.*~

Fragmented bits of the past flashed through Iniara’s broken mind. A golden sunset. Bodies sprawled across the ground. Hiding in a dark corner. A graduation ceremony. A pair of gravestones. Hard, torrential rains. Swordsmen leaping effortlessly through the air. Roman orgies. Men in cumbersome environmental gear trudging across a red desert.

Confused, the Other pulled back for just a moment. The last few memories seemed to have nothing to do with his prey, yet they were still hers. Here was a curious thing.

Her strength was returning. That much Jasmine could feel as she slowly rebuilt her mental shields. The Other was still there, but now she almost thought she could push him out. Almost.

Deep inside her mind, Iniara let out a playful giggle. What were the odds that the thing would access that specific section of her past, those few months spent in Officer Integration Training? When, at the insistence of her bunkmate, she had learned all about Earth’s violent and sordid history through something called ‘movies’? Some internal reflex told her this was the key to defeating the thing. If only she knew how.

~*Movie time!*~ she squealed instead. ~*Movie movie movie bring the popcorn!*~

Without further hesitation she grasped at her memories, flinging whatever she could at the Other. A man in a bathtub. Two faded people standing near an ancient winged craft. Cars racing across the desert. Men in silvery armor fighting with impossibly large swords. Giant, flying lizard-birds.

~*Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you walked into mine!*~ Iniara giggled again. ~*What hast thou done? That which thou canst undo! I prefer one moon, you know?*~ The giggling turned into a cackle before fading off again.

~*Tarin. Tarin, are you there?*~ Jasmine sent quietly, her voice a beacon cutting through the muddled memories. ~*Tarin?*~

~*But, it is written, if the evil spirit arms the tiger with claws...*~ came the soft reply.

~*You have to push it out, Tarin,*~ Jasmine replied, louder. ~*Push it out!*~

~*...Brahman provided wings for the dove...*~

Sensing its first host’s strength was returning, the Other turned its attention back to Jasmine. ~*So you creatures are more resilient than I thought. This is an unexpected surprise!*~

~*Get out of my head!*~ Iniara suddenly screamed, interrupting it.

~*Push it out, Tarin!*~ Jasmine shouted back. ~*NOW!*~

With all of their remaining strength, the two telepaths shoved against the thing. The mental link filled with twisted banshee wailings, though whether it came from them or the Other, none could tell. Then everything went silent.

---

Half a minute ticked by. Jasmine became dimly aware of the cold wall she was leaned against, one arm held awkwardly above her head. She felt like a spike had been driven through her head, but at least it now felt like her head again.

~*Tarin, are you there?*~ she called out after a moment.

~*Yeah. I think,*~ came the delayed reply. ~*That hurt.*~

~*I know.*~

~*I need a break,*~ Iniara replied, her mental voice becoming stronger. ~*Get back to work. Close that rift...please.*~

Iniara closed the link soon after, fighting hard not to slump forward onto her console. Instead she forced her eyes to focus on the flashing lights and text before her, hoping against hope that Jasmine’s headache was less colossal than her own.

“Worse The Wrath; Fiercer The Battle”

Gary Roswell awoke in the middle of the night. There was a great disturbance. He rose from his bed and still in his sleep clothes walked into the hall and into the conference room. He saw the two parties practically ready to go to blows. He rose his voice above the sounds, “SILENCE!”

Everyone looked at him.

“What the **** is going on here!”

Someone came to him and spoke softly, “The rebels attacked your village. A safe place.”

Gary’s eyes bore into the man who seemed nailed to the floor. Gary was suddenly glad the two girls he loved most were in space. Else he would had gone completely mad. More than he felt now. He stared down the Rebel representative. “Well, since we’re all awake, get comfortable men. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.” His voice was cold as steel.

After a few hours, Gary was rubbing the bridge of his nose. He knew what this meant. He knew very well. The fighting wasn’t getting any better at all. In fact, it may had gotten worse. He knew the Sakarians were stubborn, but surely something else was keeping them from a compromise. That’s something he would have to figure out later. He stood and looked out the window and spoke with sternness, “These talks are doing us no good.” He looked at the rebel leader, boring into him, “I have a feeling we have brought others into our fight. With that, there can be no peace on Sakaria.” He looked at everyone. “We go back to fighting. We are only protecting. The Rebels are attacking. Only the Rebels decide when the war is over.” With that he left the conference room, grabbed a coat—for winter was setting in—and ran to his village.

He stared at the cabin. The one where Nara had lived the first five years of her life. The village he knew she loved as much as he did. People had surrounded him, hopefully. He was their hero. He had to help them. He looked at them frowning. He then looked at the tall majestic white building serving at the horizon. He stepped back to stand on an old tree stump. “I will bring back supplies for you. You have to rebuild or go to another village.” He stepped off and walked toward the building. There were no more safe places. After so much rebuilding, Sakaria had become a war zone again. This time, it was her own killing her.

When he got to the building and had ordered supplies to be sent to his village, he went to shop and bought fifteen minutes of access to the computer. He sent a message to Nara and Allas.

To: Naranda Roswell; Allas Roswell.
From: Gary Roswell
Subject: Bad News

Dear Ones, The war has taken a turn for the worse. There is no such thing as a safe place now. They attacked our village. Our cabin is no more. I will commission some fellow villagers to rebuild it. I need to go help fight. I will also be doing some detective work. I have a feeling the Rebels have some outside influence.

Nara, I know what you’re thinking and you can’t. Stay there. I know there’s a war brewing up there in space as well. Fight well. Keep the ship running. Keep your ears and eyes open for any rumors about Sakaria. Perhaps there will be a clue. What I’m trying to say is, don’t pine to come here and fight. You have a contract with Starfleet. You stick to it. Be the girl I’m proud of.

Allas, you’re brave by dealing with the sanity of Starfleet officers and moreso for being married to me. I cannot think of much to say to you. We’re able to speak so much to each other just with looking and touch, and I guess I can’t put it into words how much I miss and love you.

Stay safe, my girls.

Your father and husband, Gary

He sent it off and spent the next five minutes communicating with his commander. He had found out the position of one of the Rebel Armies. He went to a shop and bought warrior garb destroyed in the fire the rebels set. He got some strange looks from people walking around. His face was set. The war would only get fiercer.

off1: I'm not really sure where we are right now in the episode but I figured that this procedure would be short enough that Ella could probably fit it in between shifts or on a day off.

"Speak now..."

Lt. Ella Grey

***Sickbay***

Ella Grey stared at the walls, wetting her lips again and trying to summon up any form of willpower.

Opening her mouth would be a good starting point, she thought dryly, realizing that her mouth was clenched together as tightly as her hands. Ella tried to explain to herself that it was okay- the doctors and nurses had left the room as requested, the door was shut tight, the procedure was sure to have been a success... but she apparently wasn't having any of it.

We're not talking remember, the Ella in her head reminded her. We promised ourselves not to. We took a vow of silence. Hardy har har. Besides we've worked too hard to give this up. We're so not ready...

It's a necessity, Ella told herself. We've also worked too hard to get into Starfleet, to fulfill our dreams of tinkering with ships, of being in outer space and away from the circus back home. We've worked too hard to give this up as well.

And then Ella realized she was having an argument with herself in her head and rolled her eyes.

Fighting off both nausea and lock jaw, Ella wrenched her mouth open. She ignored the fact that her mouth was dry and that her throat felt raw, deciding that it was only in her head. The procedure had been quick and the chip now implanted on her larynx was in reality the size of a spot on her fingernail. She doubted her body even realized that it was there.

Say something, Ella told herself. You didn't go through all this just to sit here on a biobed and look pretty and pensive

The procedure masked the voice in favor of something, Ella had been told, that wouldn't sound at all human, let alone like her real voice. It would be mechanical, alien, and foreign... but it was the only compromise that she had been able to think of. A way to speak but not be truly heard. A way to communicate during the emergencies that Galaxy was so fond of. A way to keep some semblance of control.

She hadn't heard her new voice yet but she already hated it.

Stop that, Ella. You can do this. You've been practicing, haven't you? You can do this.

No, no, no. Bad idea. Baaaad idea. First you give in to this and then its just something else and then it will be like it was before and you're just going to be used again and then...

Ella caught her bottom lip with her teeth and fought down the nausea again. This was not like the holodeck and the pathetic vowel sounds that she had managed. This was in Sickbay. Where people could hear her for Christ sake.

But wasn't that the point?

She rubbed at her face and shook her hands a bit, which felt as though she had been trying to crush bulkheads with them. She didn't even know what to say. What should her first word be after so many years? Should it be deep and meaningful, poetic, inspirational, or...not?

Should it be the shortest thing that she could think of? Should she start with a preposition? How about a swear word? Her mind was certainly filling up with them rapidly.

Ella lay back on the bed, dejected. This just sucked. It really did. She wished that she had someone with her right now. Someone that would understand. She didn't know if Indy or 8-ball would. Curtis was definitely out. She hadn't "spoken" to Cass or Colby in awhile and she didn't know Rex well enough.

In fact, the only person Ella thought who would understand what she had done was off somewhere, doing who knew what, with a potential gaping whole in his body somewhere- if the rumors were true - and with possible side effects from being in space with a device that wasn't designed for that and fighting off a shitload of killer Breen.

Oh, that Victor Krieghoff. If she ever got a hold of him, she was going to tell him...

Ella sprang up like a jack-in-the-box. If she ever got a hold of him, she was going to tell him...

She smiled and opened her mouth to speak.

off2: Okay all, Ella's new voice sounds pretty much like I said before. Mechanical, with no trace of her human voice. It will be flat and with no trace of intonation or pitch. Please don't have her speaking though until I introduce it, probably with having Ella speak during an emergency of some kind.

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