“When The Sky Isn’t Right”

LOCATION: Trill Planetside

Saia scrunched her face as her mother wiped at it. She heard her mother sigh, “Saia, I said we were leaving in five minutes. You’ve still got white paint on your nose.”

Saia frowned, “I had to finish painting the cloud!”

She could hear her father laugh, “You’ve been working on that same cloud since after lunch.”

Saia walked to her father with a now clean face. She looked at the canvas beside him and shook her head, “It’s still not right!”

Her father bent down, “Maybe you need to leave it for awhile. I remember my grandpa would get blocked and he went for a walk. When he came back he was so excited that he figured out how to fix it, Grandma couldn’t sit him down for dinner.”

Her mother handed her a comb for her hair, “Besides, don’t you want to go to the museum tonight?”

Saia beamed, “Really!?”

Twenty minutes later they were walking up to the building. Saia had been studying the sky to see how to fix her cloud. Something about this sky didn’t seem right either.

Soon, they walking up the stairs. Her parents stayed in the front to talk to some friends they had run into. Saia ran further inside to her favorite part of the museum.

She heard screams and saw people running. She called out, “MAMMA!!! POPPA!!!” Before she could run find them, there was an explosion and everything went black.

"The New Vanguards"

Lieutenant Corran "Spots" Rex, Vanguard One/1 Flight Lead (Pat),
Pilot Cain Masterson, Vanguard Two, (General use NPC)
Pilot Sarel "Phoenix" Inara, Vanguard Three (Cami),
Flight Officer David "Starbuck" West, Vanguard Four (L),
Lieutenant Jasmine "Jazz" Heloi, Vanguard Five/2 Flight Lead (L),
Pilot Tyten, Vanguard Six (Matt),
Pilot Anna "Natural" Lewis, Vanguard Seven (Francis),
Pilot Arlen "Shocker" Willard, Vanguard Eight (Andrew),
Lieutenant "Fuzzball" Kettch, Vanguard Nine/Three Flight Lead (Pat),
Flight Officer Xiaz "Pad" Padma, Vanguard Ten (Kate),
Flight Officer "Angel" Angeleina, Vanguard Eleven (Robert),
Pilot Graan, Vanguard Twelve (Randy),
Pilot Nick "Dead Stick" Lofton, Vanguard Fourteen (General use NPC),
Pilot Voss "Prophet" Ferris, Vanguard Fifteen (General use NPC),
Pilot Niki "Pebbles", Vanguard Sixteen (Kelly - Kowe NPC)

Lieutenant Corran Rex entered the pilots briefing room, trying to calm his own panic. News that a Federation starship had crashed in Leran Manev, the capital of his homeworld, had left the Trill pilot increasingly distressed. To a people who valued their pasts as much as his, the idea of such wanton destruction - the loss of so much history, in his world's oldest city..It was a truly horrific thought.

He was pacing even as his pilots entered, paying no attention until they all arrived.

Jasmine was no less worried than Corran, though, admittedly, she was not as mentally 'vocal' as her "superior officer" was. That was definitely one thing that she was going to have to get used to in her new position.

She had been offered, and accepted, the Chief Science Officer position on the Galaxy. Only, when she was called upon to fly a fighter she would as Corran's XO. It was a strange world she lived in, she decided with a slight sigh, and put those thoughts aside as she focused on the present. The Betazoid moved to the front of the room and cleared her throat, "You know, Corran, we just had that carpet replaced. It's not going to do any good to run a new rut in it so quickly."

"Oh look," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "The deserter. Enjoying sciences?"

An observer would have found the statement venomous, but Jazz knew better than to take offense at the comment.

She smiled, though it seemed rather pained, "I know. And we're going to need to talk about it later. But for now, unless a scientific emergency comes up I'm all yours."

"Well, at least you're loyal." he commented, still trying not to let the morning's news get to him. It was hard to do, when one's home was suffering a tragedy. His bond with Rex had been fluctuating ever since he'd heard the news, and no small amount of effort - and a great deal of medication - had been necessary to keep 'Corran' together.. Rex had once been married to Maz, the former host of Lirisse Durghan. And Corran himself had known her - quite well, actually - when both had been initiates at the Symbiosis Commission. He couldn't help but wonder how she was faring - he knew how hard things had been on Lirisse ever since she'd given up her symbiont. He knew, too, the reasons why she'd done it, and had disagreed with the continued policy of secrecy regarding the suitability of hosts.

But that was a discussion for another day.

Jasmine kept the question she was thinking about asking quiet - at least until she and her "CO" were alone. Since her brush with the Other, she had found her telepathic sensitivity rating had increased. It was not an effort to recognize what he was feeling and she decided that it would be best to wait until there were no other pilots about to ask him how *he* was doing.

Pilot Arlen Willard entered. both nervous and excited. He was saddened by the disaster on Trill, but for some reason, his love of flying took precedent. This was his first major action since his assignment to the Vanguard. Since the academy, Arlen was known as "Shocker," because of his ability to pull off shocking stunts. His father Colonel Jonathon "Sun Dagger" Willard always scolded him for his theatrics, saying they "would probably get him killed," But Shocker always felt like a showman at heart. Just an arrogant, dumb, and skilled kid in the cockpit. He sat down in a chair in the briefing room, his feet up on a seat in front of him, and his arms folded behind his head, leaning back.

Lieutenant Kettch ambled in, the small teddy bear-like Kowe walking with ha usual casual stroll. Seeing that Jazz was already checking in on Corran, "Fuzzball", as he was called, took a seat in one of the briefing room's chair's sized to him.

David "Starbuck" West entered the briefing room with his characteristic zeal. He liked making entrances, even if they were uncalled for. It was all part of the 'Starbuck' way. He nodded briefly at his CO and at the XO before he claimed a seat somewhere near the front. At least, that close, he could sprawl out a little and extend his legs in something approximating comfort.

Sarel "Phoenix" Inara entered the Vanguard's briefing room. When she'd first accepted the posting to Galaxy there were many surprises. The squadron Inara found herself assigned to had a great reputation. She considered it an honor to be a Vanguard pilot. Then there was the complete surprise of having a good friend and former Academy classmate, Cora Dobryn, happened to be the Chief Intelligence Officer on Galaxy. There really hadn't been time for Phoenix to do anything more than quickly settle in. Later she'd have to seek out Cora. She nodded to the other pilots and took a seat.

With a customary scowl on his face, Graan strode into Vanguard Squadron's briefing room. He had been in the middle of sampling a delightful Terran dish called "lemon meringue pie" when the new of what happened on Trill was broadcast throughout the ship. The first thing the Tellarite had done upon hearing the news was look to see for himself what had happened on Trill, and upon seeing the destruction of the Trill capitol he had already begun making his way to the briefing room, knowing that Vanguard would probably be needed soon.

He was pleased to see that he wasn't the first one to arrive, and after taking a moment to see who all had gathered in the briefing room so far, the Tellarite took a seat and folded his hands over his somewhat rotund stomach, inclining his head slightly so that his deep-set eyes could completely focus on Lieutenant Rex.

Anna Lewis entered the briefing room slowly, uncomfortably. Her stomach tossed and turned within her, and not just because of the sickening imagery unfolding on the planet that she knew their ship was rushing to. She was also nauseous for another reason. Her sister, Heather Lewis, had died at Havras serving as Vanguard Seven.

When Anna had heard, she'd set down her engineer's spanner and put in for a transfer to the fighters, even though she had no formal training.

Her innate ability in the cockpit had gotten her past the entrance exams, and earned her the nickname "Natural", but she still wasn't very sure of herself. As the Arizona moisture farmer leaned against the wall, she gritted her teeth and thought to herself. ~Well Anna, you asked for this.~

The Colorado born kid looked around, smiling. "A motley crew this bunch is. Ha Ha Ha!"

Graan glanced over at the exuberant human and grunted, shaking his head in annoyance.

Tyten simply sat in the room and watched as the other pilots filed in. He had lost his wingman to the Science department, of all places and like Rex, he wasn't very happy about the idea. Well, if he was being honest, it was only part-time. He did his best to not let her see his disappointment, but he wasn't entirely sure that he was successful in that endeavor. The two hadn't spoken much in recent weeks and now, it appeared, the rift was going to grow larger. This didn't fare well for the secret crush that he had been harboring for her since the day they had met.

He may have been a young dumb kid, but Arlen was perceptive. He noticed Tyten and decided to ask what's up.

"Hey Mr. Blue, you alright? You look like something's bugging you."

Tyten shrugged. "That transparent, huh? Long story, but the short of it basically boils down to a lack of wingman time," he said keeping his voice low, hoping that Jasmine hadn't heard him.

Entering the room, Niki blinked her big brown eyes and moved over to one of the chairs. Pulling herself up onto it, she stayed at the back. Taking a small pebble out of her pouch at her hip, she ran it across her fingers, unable to not fidget. She wasn't sure about her place since she was new.

Corran laughed to himself as he saw Kettch's jaw drop at the arrival of the female Kowe. The diminutive Lieutenant immediately ambled over to his CO's side. "Rex, you bastard! Who's the hottie?!" he whispered urgently in his squeaky little voice."

Corran raised an eyebrow. "Hottie? I thought you were cultured than that, Kettch."

"Shove it, bigfoot."

"Go and introduce yourself then." the Trill finished, trying hard not to break out into full on laughter.

Jasmine smiled briefly at Corran and headed back towards her customary place next to Tyten. She felt rather bad about basically snubbing him since the science department had become a bit like a black hole. When she sat down next to Tyten she placed her hand on his arm, "Hey, Tyten, after this, want to go for a drink? I want to apologize for snubbing you..."

Tyten shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was a grown man, yet often found himself wearing his emotions on his sleeve. "It's no big thing, Jasmine. I know you've been busy. Got more important things to do these days than hang out with a simple fighter jock," he smiled. "I'll take you up on the drink offer, though."

Her lips quirked slightly - her wingman was quite easy to read sometimes. "That's a load of balderdash and you know it. No matter what happens, I'll always have time for you." She gave his arm a comforting squeeze before she turned her attention to the front of the room.

Shocker merely chuckled at the events taking place near him. He took his feet off the back of the chair in front of him and leaned forward toward his new "Bossman," a title previously held by his academy instructor.

Okay add this where you think it fits: While Xiaz "Spitfire" Padma's saunter onto the flight deck was considerably less than usual, her athletic curves and "fuck with me, I dare you" attitude were hard to miss. So too was her anger and frustration at the situation. The Trill's big personality was muted but her mind was reeling and her physical form was prepared to react however necessary. Her body language spoke volumes. She could help but ask herself to same questions as any Trill -- any person, period, perhaps. How many had died? Symbionts. Hosts. Unjoined. The numbers had to be astronomical. And how had it happened? How had it happened? She wanted to bite someone. Act our irrationally (though, perhaps one had to be ration in the first place to act irrationally?) and eyed the fuzzy teddy bear character before thinking better of it. Though... he might be a fun experiment. A way to get her mind off things, perhaps? Especially since she wouldn't put it past Rex to be otherwise... engaged. Speaking of. Padma blinked up toward her exercise partner as he began to talk, and forced her mind onto the present.

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

"Allright folks, simmer down." Corran said, leaning against the table behind him even as Jasmine stood next to him. "You've all heard the news about Trill this morning. Galaxy's increased speed to maximum warp, but we're still a day out. I'm not sure what our goal will be when we get there, but I'm guessing we'll be doing aerial reconnaissance, looking for survivors, that sort of thing."

"Sir?" Graan ventured, raising a hand. "Do you have any idea how this happened? I mean, starships that are peacefully orbiting a planet one second and then crashing into them without warning the next aren't exactly all that common."

"We don't." Corran replied, mouth drawn in a grim line. "We still don't even know why the Akula was even in this sector."

"That's a mighty bit strange, dont'cha think Boss? Where was she supposed to be?" Shocker added with a surprising amount of maturity compared to his previous demeanor....probably a spark of his father in him.

The irascible Tellarite harrumphed in agreement with Shocker. "Wherever she was supposed to be, if it wasn't even in this sector then that's one hell of a piloting error," Graan grumbled. He settled back in his seat, folded his hands over his midsection again and glanced around at the rest of the pilots, giving them a chance to speak.

"She was supposed to be in a different sector," Jasmine confirmed, speaking up from just behind Corran, "But until we know more - or even if it WAS the Akula - I'd prefer to keep our options open."

"Exactly." the Trill Lieutenant said. "So here's what we'll do. We're going to be crowd control, and search and rescue. We'll be keeping the air clear over the crash site. There is a possibility that I'll be needed at the capitol. In that situation, Lieutenant Heloi will be in command. So, with that in mind, everyone hit the simulators - "

That brought the expected groans.

"AND" he continued, raising his voice slightly. "Practice some atmospheric flying. You're dismissed. Get your ugly mugs out of hear."

((OOC: Yet another crossover post from yours truly :) - Laurel))

"Sweet Relief"

Commander Wes 'Phoenix' Hammond,
Rogue Group CO/Rogue Squadron CO,
USS Miranda

Lieutenant Jasmine 'Jazz' Heloi,
Chief Science Officer/Vanguard Squadron XO,
USS Galaxy

****

War Room,
Nassari Starlight Guard HQ,
Nasser

Wes Hammond has rapidly approaching the point of exhaustion. In the five hours since he and Grand Master Ardantan had reached their agreement regarding Captain Elaithin's use of Starfleet General Order 14, the two men had quickly and carefully established complete dominance over the skies of Nasser. The occasional sortie was still being fought out, but the resistance dwindled each time, and order was reestablished.

In doing so, they had lost 17 Nassari starfighter pilots, and one member or Aurora Squadron. Casualties were inevitable, both men knew, but it seemed to Wes that he'd found a like mind in Ardantan. Each report brought a pained nodded from the other man, the resignation of an officer who had learned to live with sending others to their deaths. His sense of duty impeccable, Ardantan had labored for long hours with Wes to return safety to his people, and to discharge his duty to his king.

Wes was now glancing over the plot, seemingly free, for the first time in a day and a half, of skirmishes between monarchical reactionaries, and democratic crown loyalists. He didn't smile, even though he and Ardantan had done thier jobs well, and with minimal loss of life. They were fighting Federation citizens, and neither of them wanted to be where their lives had lead them.

"Master Hammond?" Gannalorn, Ardantan's chief of staff drew his attention to a secluded console, across the room. "There's a transmission being routed to us from the Miranda. The operations manager says that it's from the USS Galaxy and for you."

That caught his attention. He'd been missing Jasmine ever since she'd left. For a self-proclaimed lifelong bachelor, she had certainly focused his attention in the short time they'd known each other. He replied instantly. "I'll take it."

Offering a nod of respect, he turned the board over to the four armed Grand Master Ardantan, and quickly crossed the room, heart pounding through the exhaustion. The chief of staff completed the link, then stepped back and gave the Starfleet officer space.

"Jasmine?"

"Wes," Jasmine replied with a relieved smile, "I heard you were in the thick of things. It's good to see you in one piece." She looked to be a bit worse for wear than the last time the two had seen each other, though her smile was the same as always. The time on the freighter - not to mention her insanity - had been telling upon the Betazoid. There were a few worry lines on her face that had never been there before.

What she had needed was to see a friendly face that was not on the Galaxy - someone who didn't look at her and see the woman who had lost her mind. Admittedly, she knew that was not true - only Tarin knew the truth and from her time in contact with the other woman's mind she knew she would hold that knowledge to herself. She was, however, quite glad to see Wes.

"Yeah. I'm pretty pleased to be in one piece myself. Ekrayn's fighter got clipped by small arms fire, and she has a shrapnel wound. I'm a little worried about her, but the doctors say she'll be okay. This whole martial law thing is pretty crazy," he said, taking a seat before the monitor. He needed to get off his feet, and surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces, this was just the distraction he needed.

As he took in her face, which he'd missed seeing since their leave after Havras, he was surprised to see that she was looking more than a little under the weather, though her usually radiant smile shone through. "Are you alright, Jasmine? You look like you've been through hell. I thought the Galaxy was just shuttling medical supplies to Trill?"

"It's been one hell of a mission, Wes. And we haven't even made it to Trill, yet. Though that's a whole different bucket of worms. Something...happened on the way to Trill that is still bothering me. We discovered a region of space that was basically warping the space-time continuum due to warp traffic. We went to rescue a freighter's crew that was stuck in the muck and things went south real fast after that. I...lost my shields, Wes. Among so many untrained, not to mention unrestrained people, I was overwhelmed."

"Ah, Jazz... I guess things never really go according to plan," Wes asked, now very much concerned for her. It was strange, thinking about what it must have been like. On a basic level, he understood. Losing shields meant suddenly having a mass of voices in your mind at once, which was an easy and horrifying concept. With telepathic things, though, he could never experience it, and thus never completely understand. "Are you okay now?"

"Getting there," Jasmine replied as truthfully as possible, "It's hard to bounce back when something like that happens. Though I have a few theories as to what caused the problem in the first place and how it can be prevented in the future. Apparently I was speaking in quite a few rhymes while I was...impaired."

She shook her head and offered him a brief smile, "I just know for my next leave I want to go home to Betazed and talk to some of my people there about this. Not to mention maybe dragging a certain Major with me, perhaps."

"In other - and not to mention better - news, I got a promotion on a couple of levels. Not only am I a Lieutenant in the Fighter group, I'm also a Starfleet Lieutenant. I've been assigned to double duty as Chief Science Officer and Vanguard XO. I'm still trying to work out the scheduling details with Corran, but it's going to be interesting to say the least." Just thinking about the logistics gave her a migraine.

"That's impressive. It sounds like you're going to a lot busier. And I'd be more than happy to go with you to Betazed, when we get a chance. But I guess you want to go whoever this 'Major' is..." he teased, a smile crossing his own face. She was safe now, and prospering, so the protective side of him was satisfied. "I've had a windfall of my own recently. I was just promoted to Commander, and they gave me two more squadrons to play with. Anton and Rena are commanding them, so I'm taking the opportunity to rebuild the Rogues."

"Wow, congratulations," Jasmine smiled brightly, "You definitely deserve it."

"You do too. A multi-talented lady such as yourself would be wasted as simply Corran's ex-oh," he grinned, "Speaking of which, how's the old rogue doing? I heard somewhere that he managed to develop some kind of serum for his condition."

"He has. I actually got rather used to his multiple personalities so now just dealing with one takes a bit getting used to. But, he's been doing well otherwise."

"That's great. Say hello to him for me," he paused, and could feel the tension in his back sinking into the chair. "Thank you for calling. I'll be honest. Right now, I haven't slept for a little over twenty-four hours, and the caffeine is just about the only thing keeping me going right now. They have me commanding the starfighter forces of an entire planet, and I'm working with a very diverse group of people, some of whom don't appreciate Starfleet too much. So it's nice to see not just a familiar face, but exactly the one that I wanted to see."

"That I will. I'm glad that I managed to get a hold of you. Take care of yourself out there and I'll call you later about shore leave. Nihalla le, Wes," Jasmine kissed her fingers and touched them against the monitor displaying his face. The words were one of a dozen different way of saying good-bye. This particular way was reserved for that of those who were almost Imzadi.

He wasn't sure what it exactly meant, having never been much of a linguist. The only language, other than the two spoken on Corvallis, that he knew was Breen. But he did understand the emotion behind her words. He kissed his own fingers and matched them to hers, then replied in the reconstructed tongue of his own people, uttering a similar sentiment. "Call whenever. Farewell, le gra go deo."

‘Questions’

(right after ‘All-Hands’ and uses the last line of that post to kick off)

Operations Officer Colby Elliot

He stopped and waited for the echoes of his voice to die down. “Remember that. M’Kantu out.”

Colby Elliot pulled his head off his desk and ran a hand through his hair, “You have got to be freakin’ kidding me.” The big man got up and moved to one of the side terminals in the operations office. “Computer, bring up the FNN on screen one and all information on Trill on screen two.”

[Warning, this is not an operations procedure, unauthorized viewing of material on work shift hours prohibited]

“Fuck machines,” Colby said to himself as he shook his head and pulled the baseball cap from his desk drawer and pulled it on over his sleep tossed hair. “Elliot, Colby, authorization 765 1, shift commander, operations station four.”

[Information cleared, accesses granted]

“Thank you,” Colby replied as the computer screens came online then added, “Bitch.” Colby watched as the images unfolded and for the first time since he had left and come back to the Galaxy he stopped thinking about that damned shovel. Elliot shook his head grimly and tapped his commlink, “Elliot to operations staff, if you haven’t already turn on your screens to the FNN,” Colby said then shook his head, a long time ago he had given up on the belief in god and now he would say something he never imagined himself saying, “And pray.” Colby let the commlink go dead before he said, “Fucking pray.”

After making the call to the other members of the operations team Colby sat in his chair watching the news broad cast as it depicted the events unfolding. It didn’t seen anyone knew what the hell was going on and why it was happening, there was just panic and sorrow, the screen seemed to be bleeding with it. The images of people moving around covered in blood and ash and looking like death had fallen on them to.

“How the fuck did that happen,” Colby said to himself, not sure of how anything like this could have happened. There were too many questions welling up in Colby’s head to try and answer any of them one at a time, he wanted to know everything right now. Colby pulled the black hat off his head and ran a hand though his hair and shook his head. The thing that really bothered him was the size. The death, the pain, the fear, the sorrow all weighed heavily on Colby’s mind but not so heavy as the size.

“Computer, Bring up all Federation classes now in service, order vessels by length and mass.”

[Processing]

Colby watched on one of the other inset computer screens as the ships came up and were displayed. A Green outline and of the ship’s port schematic accompanied by its mass data. “Computer, move information to main display,” Colby said as he read through the size listings, “Exclude all vessels over 500 meters.”

[Processing] the computer replied as the image moved from the smaller screen to the full size viewer that was usually dedicated to ship system readings and the Galaxy’s damage reports. [Compilation Complete]

Colby moved to stand before the large screen and looked at the ship. Yeah, the death weighted pretty fucking heavy but what was really bugging him was the size. There was a limit to what you could crash onto a planet without either destroying the atmosphere or smashing the world out of orbit.

Colby pulled his cap back on then folded his arms across his chest as he looked at the screen. The thought that it might not have been an accident had not yet set in but it was beginning to worm its way into the back of his mind. “What the fuck is going on.”

"Where were you?..."

Correy Smith,
Flight Control Officer,
USS Galaxy

Correy Stirred as the pain in his arm grew more intense. Curled up in the seat of the carrier, he still sat, half asleep, avoiding contact with Alexia. He remained facing the oposite way hoping not to provoke her in any way possible.

He sat in silence, thinking about the `situation` at hand. He didnt really know this woman, and yet over the past twenty four hours, she had become a major part of his life.

Then his thoughts were last, as his attention was made to take note of the increasing tingling feeling of his arms.

~~ Pins and Needles ~~ he thought to himself. He slowly sat up, glancing over at the empty seat between him and Alexia, Alexia who was now sleeping. He smiled as he looked at her, he hadnt really taken it in the night before. That made him angry inside, sad maybe too. She was beautiful, and all he'd done the night before was....

His thoughts were interupted, and his focus moved from Alexia to the over head speaker. He welcomed the interuption inside, what was he thinking? Was he going soft? he gave himself a mental kick in the side and focussed fully on what now was apparent to be the captain.

[Ladies and gentleman, I apologise for the interuption, but something has come to our attention that we beliave you have the right to see. Please remain calm, and know that in a momnet, the over head monitors are going to be switched on, and what you will see is..... shocking to say the least. However, please remain calm, and know that I'm making every effort to get answers to the questions I know you'll want answering]

There was a slight murmour from the people onboard, unsure as to what the captain was speaking about. Something about his voice however, hinted that there was something seriously wrong. Correys mind began to race ~~ something wrong with the shuttle? No...~~

He stopped speaking, and there was a momentary rush of conversations and speculations between the passengers. Then the screens flickered on, and the same dazed look came over Correys face, that had also come over the face of the man in the oposite aisle to him, and his wife...

<snip>
The reporter, who's voice had only moments ago broken into sobs, now had regained his composure, and began to speak once more.

"Again....if you are just joining us... tragedy is unfolding. We have unconfirmed reports that a starship has crashed into the planet Trill. What you are seeing now is the capital city of Leran Manev, home to vast libraries, museums and some of the most beautiful architecture on the planet. Now, devastation is as far as the eye can see. Entire city blocks have been laid to waste. Flames are spreading. There are countless injuries as many are still trapped beneath collapsed structures. Casualties are being estimated in the thousands. No word yet from the Symbiote Commission or President Durghan. We're going to go live to Kal Sigg who is actually at the scene..Kal..."

The screen switched to a scratchy and grainy video of a man holding a microphone, covered in dust and soot. He looked over his shoulder and cupped his ear.

"Can you hear me? Can you hear me? My ears are still ringing. I can still feel the impact of the ship hitting the planet. The debris is making it hard to breath...Jesus, I have never seen such hell. There are people crying for help...sirens..."

A sudden explosion to the reporter's left toppled a wall. The camera could just make out Kal throwing his hands up in the air before the image went black.
</snip>

As the screen went blank, it seemed to bring an air of eeriness over the shuttle. No one knew quite what to say. Then it hit him, he turned to Alexia and looked at her. She'd slept right through the broadcast. His mind raced. Should he wake her? Should he leave her? Surely she'd want to know.

"The Final Threshold."

Ensign Airaul Taern,
Chief Tactical Officer

Airaul had been convinced that he'd seen most things that lurked in life ready to shock and stun a man, but nothing had prepared him for the desolation presented so graphically for all to see.

It had been uncomfortable to watch, as if intruding on a person's nightmare, on their darkest fears. It didn't seem right to him that he should be able to watch people at their lowest and most vulnerable. And yet, he had not been able to keep his eyes away.

His life as a soldier had taught him many things. It had shaken sentimentality out of him as quickly as a youth could lose his innocence with a bottle of Jintz and the neighbour's daughter. It had taken away the sickness that had once welled through him at seeing someone, that just moments before had been laughing and happy, dead on the crimson stained sand, open and desecrated beyond recognition. It had taken away the idea of black and white and replaced it with a whole ocean of grey.

So it was none of those things that moved so quickly through his level and calm mind. It was a deep sense of regret.

Despite his world having been long in the clutches of a brutal civil war, there had always been one rule that all sides had stuck tightly to out of a sense of honour and just pure decency. All air attacks were to be directed on military targets only. No innocent people were ever to be intentionally harmed.

Yes, his path had once been that of a priest, and so he had treated many ordinary people's ills rather than only soldiers...but this...

A whole city of wounded innocents?

Airaul frowned as he took a quick, sharp breath. It was just...unfair.

When he had decided to turn his back on becoming a priest and instead trained as a soldier, it had been for friendship. His loyalty and desire to protect the closest man in all the universe to him. As his career had gone on, it had become more than just that. The old motives remained, but his sense of duty started to slowly swell as the bigger picture became more and more apparent to the increasingly stained and tainted man. Even with his closest friend, his gods, his entire world as motives for his actions, he still felt the same slow decay burning him from the inside.

It started slowly at first, gripping at his throat like a hangman's noose tightening around his convicted neck. It began when he had started to change. His confidence as a soldier had grown with his climbing ranks. The fear and trepidation replaced with adrenaline and eagerness to get to his enemy. He no longer pushed down an urge to flee at hearing the screams and smelling the blood and burning flesh of his comrades, instead, it all drove him on with a burning fuel to cut down as many as he could. That was when the pain inside had started.

His conscience talked to him. It whispered treacherous suggestions of how interchangeable killing was with murder. He had seen so much blood. Heard so much suffering. Much of it at his own hands. It made his blood cold and his throat burn with choked tears of grief...grief from the loss of his own innocence.

There was a pain so deep from his lifetime of fighting...so deep that nothing could mend it, not even time. How could a person keep on living with it? After all he had seen and done...all the darkness and wickedness he had witnessed seeping into the very soil of his home world, how could he ever go back to having an ordinary life? Of just being a man, with a house, and a boat that he loved to sail. It wasn't possible.

It would be the same for these people, he knew. For those who survived the destruction, having witnessed such horror in life, they would never be able to go back to how things were before. They would never see the life and growth in the scorched ground again. Never smell the scent of a fresh breeze on the tainted air. Never see the beauty in the stars from the blameworthy sky that had been the backdrop for the devastation delivered to them. It would all be different. It would all have different symbolism. Airaul had felt it himself...only, he had chosen to give himself over to a military life, and these people truly were innocents. Victims.

To take the heart from a person was to leave them with nothing but an empty, cold shell, filled with a festering hatred to seek revenge which could eventually lead to a path of self-destruction. To take the heart from a world could be dangerously similar.

Airaul sighed as he shook his head slowly. It was all...such a shame.

"Catching Up"

Lieutenant Corran Rex
Lieutenant Jasmine Heloi

As all the pilots filed out of the room, Corran motioned for his exec to stay. "Now's as good a time as any to talk, Jazz." Jasmine nodded and turned an apologetic look at her wingman, "I'll catch up with you at the bar, Tyten. I promise." With his nod, she returned to Corran. "So..." she began lamely.

"I want to go on record as saying you're a horrible, horrible person." he teased. "And you're probably going to make your head explode pulling double duty like this."

She had to laugh, "I know exactly what you mean. I get a headache just thinking about it. I feel like I'm a modern day version of Clark Kent. By day, mild mannered science officer, by night super fighter pilot. I just...I just couldn't turn it up." The Trill's eyebrows knotted together in obvious confusion. "Clark who?"

"Clark Kent...you know, Superman," Jasmine tried to explain. That was, of course, when she saw the complete confusion in his eyes, "Remind me to introduce you to the joys of comic books. One of my fellow actors on Starfire got me hooked on the classics - Superman, Batman, X-Men...Superhero comics..." Her voice trailed off, "Never mind."

"Like 'The Guardian' - mythical heroes kind of thing? Stories told in an old 2-dee graphic from?" he said, drawing the nearest parallel to his own culture's history. "We used to have those. People with amazing powers, running around in tights, blowing things up, that kind of thing?"

"Yeah, that's it," Jasmine nodded, somewhat relieved that she wasn't exactly speaking in riddles. It would have given her a nasty case of deja vu after all. "Clark Kent was the superhero's alter ego. That's what I was getting at."

"Ah." the Trill said, starting to wonder why in the world they were talking about this. "So why the double duty? Why not just go all the way?"

"Well," Heloi explained, "I love flying too much to give it up completely. The nice thing is that I'll get the best of too worlds...that is..." The Betazoid suddenly looked a little unsure, "Unless you would prefer a full time XO. I'd understand that...and if you want me to I'll step down...though I don't want to have to give up flying..." Her voice trailed off and for a moment the former actress looked more like a little girl unsure of herself and her place in the world than ever before.

"Well...." he started, deliberately trailing his voice off.

As if a light were switched somewhere in her mind, the Betazoid's eyes narrowed though the expression was somewhat ruined by the smile tugging at her lips, "Corran...." She said in the exact same tone.

Rex let out a low chuckle. He couldn't help teasing his exec about it. "No, relax. I'm not kicking you out. Truth is - we're on call a lot of the time anyway, and the situation doesn't always call for us. And honestly, you can only play around in simulators so much. I'm not going to fault anybody for wanting a day job."

She released a breath that she didn't know she had been holding, "Thanks for that. I honestly wasn't certain how you were going to react to the news. Heck, I'm still not certain how I'm reacting to the news. It's enough to make my head spin when I start thinking about the logistics behind my position change."

"So what happened to Cutter?" he asked. Oddly, he liked the rather.. bristly science officer. Maybe it because he wasn't all that nice.

"He decided after his extended experience in Karyn's body that he needed some time off. He's taking an extended leave of absence from the service. From what I understand he's planning on returning home for a time, but he didn't quite fill me in completely on what he's planning," Jasmine replied, shaking her head slightly. She could quite easily sympathize with Cutter's feelings on the matter. Then again, descending into the depths of insanity and emerging again tends to make one a bit more philosophical than normal.

"Gotta be strange." he said, ruminating over their last mission for a moment. "All I got was my own memories. Whose did you get?"

"Everyone's memories," Jasmine replied with a slightly pained expression on her face, "All at once, pounding over and over again. On that freighter, my shields dropped completely. It was something like being stuck in the middle of a room filled with a million different people shouting different things at the exact same time. Needless to say...it was not fun."

"Went a little crazy, eh?"

"In the literal sense, that'd just about cover it. It gave opportunity for one of our extra dimensional alien "friends" to take up residence upstairs. But, with Tarin's help, I managed to get my shields back up and my passenger out. Like I said, not fun."

"Hey, if anybody understood, it'd be me." the Trill replied, flashing a quick grin. His expression changed to a more thoughtful one for a moment. "Though not so much, these days."

"But you understand," she pointed out, "And that's what matters. Speaking of which...how are you doing?"

The tall man gave a shrug. It wasn't a question he really knew the answer to himself. "I'm....in progress." " he finally replied after some consideration.

Jasmine nodded with some understanding, "If you feel the need to talk about it, I'm here for you. Did you...have any family in the capital?"

Corran laughed, shaking his head. "Vorrin did. Does, apparently. I.. don't really want to talk about it.)

"Okay," she shrugged. Perhaps she was letting it go too easily, but she knew enough about the psyche to know when enough was enough. "Before I let you get back to things...why do you think you're going to be assigned to the capital when we reach Trill - that is, besides the obvious reasons?"

"Oh, that's easy." he replied with a knowing smile. "Lirisse Durghan is an... old friend."

"Oh?" the arched eyebrow told a thousand words. "One of *those* friends, I take it?" Jasmine's words and tone of voice suggested something more than mere friendship.

Corran raised his arms, letting his smile give the answer. "Speaking of which, Tara and I split up."

Her eyes widened, "Really? Wow. I certainly wasn't expecting to hear that, especially not after seeing the two of you together." She didn't ask what had happened since it really was none of her business. Though, despite those noble thoughts, she was rather curious about his reasoning.

Another shrug. "People move on, after a time. She's got her a command now, and I'm not really interested in a permanent relationship anymore."

"That is the one true constant in this universe. Everything and everyone changes."

"Very true." he replied, looking at his XO. For a moment, he wondered whether she was still involved with Hammond, the squadron commander of on Miranda. Not for the first time, he noticed just how attractive the former starlet was. Now, though, was probably not the time to ask. "Very, very true."

‘Looking for Answers’

(takes place directly after Questions)

Ensign Colby Elliot
Lieutenant David James

“What the fuck is going on.” Colby uttered to himself as he looked at the screen of the displayed starships. Something wasn’t right about all of this, he couldn’t put his finger on it but it just didn’t add up.

“What are you doing in here?” A voice came from behind and beneath Colby.

Colby turned around but saw no one. Now he was sure he was losing it.

David James let out a small sighed as the big man turned around and looked at the room, seeing everything above where James himself stood. It was something he had grown used to in his life but it never stopped bothering him. “Down here,” James said glibly, drawing Colby’s attention to where all four eight inches of David James stood.

Colby looked down and saw the man he would have called a midget and his first thought, though he was ashamed of it, was hadn’t they learned to fix that by the twenty forth century? Pushing that more then slightly degrading thought from his head Colby shook his head, “Sorry, didn’t see you down there,” he said then closed his eyes, wishing he had said something that sounded less stupid.

James rolled his eyes and went on, “I said what are you doing there?” he leaned to one side to look around Colby at the screen that displayed several of the Federation’s starships, “Doesn’t look like operations procedures.”

Colby Elliot weighed better then two hundred pounds and a fair amount of that bulk was muscle, he was six foot two and had he not felt like a total ass the comical look of the big man looking down on the little one would not have been lost on him. However, he did feel like an ass and because of it any thoughts of how this conversation might look to outsiders didn’t register. He had spoken to the small man like an idiot at some country fair and he was also not doing his job and had just been caught not doing it by his superior officer. “I was uh…” Colby trailed off, knowing he must have the stupidest damn look on his face. Yeah, he looked like a guy at the fair alright. “Did you hear about Trill?”

James shook his head, “News hasn’t filtered down this low yet,” he said then smirked, “Yes, it would be impossible not to hear about something like that I think.” The short man said as he moved closer to the main screen, looking up at the pictures depicted on the viewer. “What are you looking at?”

Colby turned to face the screen, as his mind shifted back into gear and turned back to think about the crash and the ship involved he felt less like an ass. “I was wondering what ship hit the planet so I was looking at the vessels currently in service.”

James nodded, “Why don’t you have them all up here?” David had a good idea why, it was because of their size, their mass and how much of an effect it would have had on the planet. However, given what he had heard about the operations officer he was now speaking too as well as how the man reacted to James himself he didn’t have a lot of faith in Elliot’s intelligence.

Colby nodded, pulling off his cap and tossing it back onto his desk. “Well I saw the pictures and the recordings at ground zero and that gave me a good idea of the destruction. I took the larger vessels off because they would do more damage then was done.” Colby pointed to the far screen that still depicted all the federation classes still in service, “If an ambassador hit the planet it would leave nothing but a three mile hole in the planet, a Titan class would hit the planet hard enough to either blow it apart of to throw it out of orbit.”

James pressed his lips together and nodded in surprised approval, the man was smarter then James had originally given him credit for. “That’s a good conclusion, but even some of the ships you have up are too large, it couldn’t be too much bigger then two hundred meters or it would have breeched the underground Trill baths.”

Colby turned to face James and sighed, annoyed with himself he shifted his gaze from where a normal operations officer would have been to look down at where James actually was. “But how do we know it didn’t hit deep enough to hit the pools?”

“We don’t know,” the dwarf said, putting emphasis on know, “but we can assume, with as large a role as the symbiots play in the Trill society if the pools were destroyed by the crash that would make a bigger story then the crash itself.”

“So they’re ok?” Colby asked, he wanted to know that, if they were alright then this wouldn’t be the tragedy it could have been. Death was death, weather it was bug slug with a brain or if it was a man. And the death of the sybiots as well as the death and destruction caused would have an even higher death toll then was now predicted.

David shrugged, “I wouldn’t say they are ok, there is still major danger to the area because of the impact and the shock it caused to the planet and the integrity of the caves but we can be pretty sure they have not been killed yet.”

“So do they know what ship hit the planet?” Colby asked, his eyes not leaving the chart of starships that was on the large view screen.

“The USS Akula,” James said squinting then shaking his head, “at least that’s what early reports said but…”

“But what?” Colby asked turning back to face James and once again finding that his gaze was too high. God he was an idiot, Colby thought to himself. He was a smart guy wasn’t he? Smart enough to realize to look down, maybe not. He shook his head, “What’s wrong with that?”

“The USS Akula is a Prometheus class ship,” the pint sized operations officer replied, “four hundred and fifteen meters, not only that the quad nacelle configuration adds substantial mass to the ship.”

Colby nodded, he got it, there should be a bigger hole if it was the class that big. “This early they could have made the wrong call.”

“More then likely,” James said as he climbed awkwardly into one of the chairs.

Without thinking Colby reached down and picked up the dwarf and set him effortlessly into the chair that he had been trying to sit in.

“Thanks,” James said in a slightly annoyed tone.

Colby’s breath froze in his throat, “Fuck me, I’m sorry man.”

James smirked and shook his head, “Don’t worry about it goliath.” Looking over at Colby James laughed, “Your hair looks terrible, what did you do with your hat?”

Colby laughed, “I took it off,” he turned to move for the desk but stopped right after turning. He just stood looking back at his desk then turned back to face the screen then James then the screen once more “I took it off, shit.”

“What?”

“What if its not wrong, what if it is the Akula and that it is a Prometheus class ship?” Colby said, his eyes once again fixated on the computer display.

“Well I know the Akula is a Prometheus class ship, I follow starships,” James summed up, “I just don’t think they Akula is what crashed down.”

Colby’s head cocked back slightly and he gave David James a quizzical look, “You FOLLOW them?”

James’s lips pressed together with a look of slight embarrassment as well as the look of a man who has explained this a time or two before. “It’s a hobby, as ships are launched off I log them into a book I have, name class and registration.” He explained, “I also keep track of what ship yard they are detached from.”

“I get you,” Colby replied, “I did the same thing when I was a kid with football players.” He said then shook his head, they had gotten off topic, “But what I mean is what if it was the Prometheus class and it took off its hat,” he said then looked back to the screen, “Separated its saucer and that crashed into the planet?”

James snapped his fingers, “I should have thought about that, the saucer isn’t much more then two hundred meters, it would fit the bill for the crash but…”

“Where’s the rest of the ship right?” Colby said, if it is the Akula then she could still be out there, the rest of her anyway.”

“But she would have called in, logged her position and the accident.” James insisted.

“If it wasn’t an accident?” Colby asked, knowing all about hits that were not accidents and not tumbles down the stairs.

David let out a long breath of air, “Wow.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Colby said. “First though, if it is the Akula and it hit the ground, the whole fucker, is it possible to leave the damage it did? Not make a bigger hole?”

James shrugged, “Soft landing but to do that it would have had to have its maneuvering thrusters to fight the gravity.”

Colby nodded solemnly, a sick feeling was clawing its way up into his throat, moving uneasily though the rest of him and making him feel cold. “And if she had the power to slow her decent then she could have dodged the city.” His voice felt like to came from a million miles away.

“If the Akula had the power to slow he decent and still hit the city it was intentional, if her saucer hit the city and the rest of her hasn’t logged in the it was intentional,” James said, his lips growing dry.

“We need to talk to command,” Colby said, “Let’s get to the bridge.”

“Yeah,” the small man replied.

2nd Lt Jebidiah Baile
Marine Recon Specialist

Lt. Brianna "Anna" O'Shea,
Chief Engineer / Liaison SCE

------

Brianna was standing at the central console, looking over the latest information coming in from the downed Starship on Trill. "Randi, get me the technical specifications on the USS Akula... I want class information and get the last engineering report filed with Starfleet Corp of Engineers." Anna said, as she leaned back over the console.

Patience is a virtue, but for Marines it was vital or else they end up blowing up wherever they were assigned. Younger marines spent hours preparing, checking gear, getting battleready. The older ones just let the day come as it may. There was no reason to get worked up until they hit dirtside. The ship wouldn't enter orbit for at least another 18 hours, but hell, he was a passenger. They could be entering orbit in five minutes for all he knew.

Randi handed Brianna the information she asked for, but the SCE report was missing. "Where's the last upload to SCE?" Anna asked, glancing over at Randi.

"Still working on, communication relays are being taxed with so many inquires coming in for Trill..."

"Make it a priority... if you have to, interrupt the communications... I need that report, soon as possible." Brianna said.

"Yes, Ma'am." Randi said, then moved away.

With that much time to spare, Baile took the chance to check the gear. Rescue missions like the one they were embarking on rarely required marines in a fighting capacity, but an unprepared Marine was a dead Marine. Scanners needed recalibrating, his armour needed checking for weak spots, the guns needed checking up. He'd done all of those things just before he left, but it wouldn't hurt to do it again. Always do what you can today instead of waiting for tomorrow since tomorrow might never come.

Brianna had headed out of Engineering now, was heading to the shuttle bay, wanting to check on the runabout Euphrates. Walking into the bay she nodded to the chief, then headed over and began to check on the runabout.

Now all he had to do was find one of those gearheads. He made his way into what some Marines called the dungeons, but fortune smiled at him. Halfway there he saw the familiar uniform of an engineer. Baile had never been a fan of jackets, preferring t-shirts with the SFMC insignia on. Absentminded he scratched the Trident tattoo on his left arm. "Hey....." he called out and walked closer.

Anna looked up. "My god.. when did you get assigned here?" Brianna said, looking over at him. "Look like hell..." She commented and then give a weak grin.

"Well.. if it ain't Nubbie.... " Baile grinned and crossed his arms across the chest.

"My eyes are already hurting... from looking at this piece of marine before me..." She said, matching his stance. "How have you been, Rooster.." She said, indicating she remembered the nickname he didn't like, having named him that cause of his outlandish hair style.

"Fine uptil now.." he replied with sly grin.

Brianna punched him in the arm, knowing it had no effect other then a playful jab. "Still say you cut your hair like that just to torque me cause you know how I don't like it." Brianna said, then grinned.

Baile's reply was to run a hand through his short mohican hairstyle. "Still play around with these dinkytoys?" he asked and nodded at the runabout.

"Still am, I see you still the image of marine corp... very... well.. not sure what it is." She replied, looking over his appearance. "You marines actually going to help with relief efforts?" Anna asked as she looked at him, figuring he'd heard about the disaster by now.

Not a trace of compassion was found in his eyes when she spoke of the disaster. "I don't know." he replied and shrugged. "I doubt there'll be a need for military activity, so I guess we'll be shovelling bodies for a while."

"I think my people are going in as well. I've got a friend down there somewhere, so far the computer can't find him for me." Brianna said, "I'm sure your detail will be close with mine since we are involved in structural integrity.. my team will be one of the first that goes in."

"What does he look like?" Baile asked in return. Battlefields or disaster areas. Both were pure chaos and the home of Jebidiah Baile.

"Joined trill.. Jerel Aries..." She said, then walked over to a wall unit and pulled up his picture from the database. He had long hair, deep dark brown eyes. "He's a good friend.. my mentor of sorts, Ambassador Jerel Aries is a amazing person... "

He looked at the picture, memorizing it. He doubted the face would be very much alike in real life after a disaster like that. "I can't promise you anything. I'm stuck with a bunch of newbies and wannabe's." Baile explained. Security would probably take care of looters and the occasional hotspot. At least he hoped so. The thought of sending in Marines against some looters wasn't too thrilling.

"I know.. just keep your eye out, if you find him... let me know.. okay?" Anna said.

He just nodded. Anna knew just how good he was. If Jerel Aries was out there, then Baile would find him. Dead or alive.

"So.. what else is new in your life?" Brianna said, then changing the subject as she poked his rib as she sat down in a chair in the runabout.

"This shithole..." he replied with a sour face and adjusted the sidearm strapped to his thigh as he sat down opposite to her.

"You have to give this ship it's dues... look what it's been through and it's still in service." Anna said. "Course I'm partial to this ship cause I'm the chief engineer." She added.

"Then I guess congratulations is in order." he commented and grinned. "You move up and I move down."

"Yes well I wish everyone felt that way around here, some people seem to think that I'm some sort of Internal Affairs person... simply cause I'm the Liaison to the Starfleet Corp of Engineers... my department is walking around on egg shells around me." Brianna said, then looked at him. "Am I really so bad?"

He shrugged. "Not to me... I remember when they shipped you out to us to repair our gear... damn you were green.."

"My god, Jeb, you all gave me hell... if I didn't have to cover my own ass from your 'friends' then I was watching for one of you to push me over the edge with some gory story of battle and bravery." Anna said, then sighed.

Baile only grinned at the memories. "We were bored.. SI sent us busted gear and we had already cleared the sector.. then you shipped in... all ass and looks.. Can you blame us for having fun?"

"Oh yes I can..... Rooster!" She said, then grinned.

He leaned back, giving her another sly grin. "If it makes you feel better, Caileb thought you did a good job... I know it didn't feel like it, but that was his style."

"Did he really or are you just saying that to be nice?" Anna replied. "I was scared coming there, not because of the work I had to do.. but because I was being the only female the troop had seen in months that wasn't permanently scared, covered in mud or talked like a drunken sailor... hell, I was eye candy for the lot..." She said, then grinned, it felt good getting her mind off the crisis that was going on.

"You were in good hands." he replied, sounding serious. "We were there to kill the enemy and that's what we did. Over and over again." Baile paused for a few seconds, watching his hands. He had strong, but scarred hands, not unlike a bricklayer or a carpenter. Only those hands didn't create. They destroyed.

Sitting there looking at him she then reached over and took his hand. "Hey.. where were you just now?" She asked, seeing him with a far away look in his eyes as he looked at his hands.

"Take your pick.." Baile said and looked at her. His eyes were dead. No emotions, only a haunted soul somewhere deep inside. Baile was not a unique Marine. He wasn't more messed up than most of the veterans. This was their way of handling it. No shrink could understand what it was like after months behind the enemy lines. No words would dull the memories they had inside.

"When we get done with this thing with Trill... lets go out.. get me drunk, how's that?" Brianna said, she'd over to listen if he wanted to talk, but she knew he wouldn't. He would want to go drinking.

"You got yourself a deal... " Baile responded, a bit relieved that the issue wasn't pushed further. He picked up the case he had been carrying. "Got something I need you to work some mojo magic on..." the marine told her and opened the case. Inside lay one of his rifles, in this case a slugthrower. He still preferred phasers, but in some places a good old carbine was better. There was however nothing old about the carbine in the riflecase.

Sitting her pad down beside her. "What's wrong with it, or should I ask, what do you want it modified to do?" Anna said, letting him tell her what he needed.

"Is it that obvious?" The faked surprise revealed a very bad actor. "I need it to bore off better. Had to punch a guy in the face with it and it's been off alignment ever since." Expertly he released the clip and made sure it had no round in the chamber. "It needs to be reinforced here and here, " he instructed and pointed on the barrel. Goes all wonky with a silencer."

Nodding. "Looks like this thing has seen better days... shouldn't take me but a little bit to get it how you want it. How would you feel if I fabricated a brace from here to here? Id' make it more stable and steady... as for the silencer, have you upgraded it with the latest one?"

"You're talking to a Marine... what do you think?" he responded with a grin. The rifle bore very little resemblance with the gun he had been issued. Any member of special operations modified their rifles until it was just the way they wanted it. Baile's was no exception. "Oh, and the gearbox could do with a bit of mojo as well. Locks up too easy." Too easy for a former special ops was not what someone from Security would mean as too easy. Too easy for Baile meant after three months in mud, cold, vacuum, water, scorching heat, sand, tough handling. When it locked up after that - then it locked up too easy.

"You want to leave this with me, or go with me, should take about hour." Brianna said, looking up.

"Got nothing better to do... might as well go with you and see the other apes.."

"Grab your gear, come on, we'll get it done." Anna said, standing up. Leading him out of the shuttle bay, they soon walked into a engineering work room where she began to work on his rifle. She didn't explain anything, just went about fixing it. "Where... was you last stationed?" She asked, as she began to set the new mounts.

He shrugged and sat down on a workbench. "Boring assignment near Cardassian space. Basic patrol duty, the kind of stuff no one hears about since everything is all fine and dandy there now."

"You long for good battle, right?" Brianna asked, as she looked over at him briefly before turning her attention back to what she was doing.

"Better than sitting around with my foot up my ass.."

"God, are you the poet today." Anna commented, as she furrowed her brow and then held up the rifle. She then began to graft new mountings for a silencer. "What crawled up your leg and bit you on that perky ass?"

"You maybe?" he grinned. Baile closed his fist as hard as he could, popping knuckles one by one.

"We tried that once.. you didn't bite." Anna replied.

He leaned against the wall, relaxing. Or at least it was relaxed for being a Marine. "Seems people tried a lot of things... "

"What's that suppose to mean?" Brianna asked, now looking at him. "Be nice to me or I might not finish this." She said, then grinned.

He held up his hands in innocence. "Nuthin.. " Baile's face broke up in a grin.

"Better.." She replied, then nodded in satisfaction. "Okay... see if that makes you happy." The engineer said, as she stepped out of the way and let him look over his rifle.

The marine walked up next to her and picked up the rifle. With the ease that comes with years and years of practice picked it up and inspected it closely. This was all business. In the field his life depended on things like this. "Feels better.. you did a good job... as always.."

"You me then." She said, a she began to pick up the tools. "The usual will suffice." Anna said, then looked over at him once more.

"Already looking forward to it... I'll try not to blow my brains out of sheer boredom... " the marine replied and grinned. "Is there a firing range or something onboard or is that too violent for ya shipmonkeys?" he asked with a sly grin and scratched his chin.

"I don't know about the firing range, but got holodecks." She informed.

"Alright... it'll have to do.. " he said and nodded, putting the rifle back in the case. "See you around, Nubbie... and thanks.." Baile said, patting the riflecase.

"Better... hey.. still owe me twenty credits.., Rooster!" She reminded him as he walked out. Brianna then shook her head and then headed back toward Engineering to wait whatever came in.

"The Trouble with Trill"

Ensign Miramon Terrik,
Flight Control Officer

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

So, Saul and Nara were once again the mainstay of the ship's social problems for Miramon, and had pretty much been the extent of all the problems aboard where he was concerned until the Captain called the "All Hands". At which point, as the humans would say, everything went to Hell.

Since it wasn't his duty shift, he'd figured his best option would be to report to the shuttlebay. From what the Captain had said with his announcement, the Trill would need all the help they could get, which would likely mean support teams would be shuttling down to the surface as well as taking the transporters. But how the hell was a single starship supposed to have the resources to heal an entire planet? As the Starfleet mandate was ever clear on, they had to do what they can with what they had for as long as they could. Holding the line, he supposed.

Sufficed to say, by the time he got there, the deck was already swarming with people - medical teams on their way down to the planet, or those prepping the shuttles to go. Not since Havras had he seen the whole ship this much on the edge, and even with the damn memory-jumping that they'd been doing recently, before the Dreshayans had shown up and started trying to blow holes in his shuttle, everybody had seemed at least a little more relaxed. The air carried with it a tension, and they hadn't even gone down to the planet yet. Well, some might have done, perhaps, but he hadn't and neither had any of the people he was watching now.

The devastation was pretty bad, according to M'Kantu. For once, he'd liked to have thought the Captain was wrong, but since Miramon was a bridge officer, he'd spent a lot of time around the Command Staff when on duty, and he knew the Captain never exaggerated about such things. Besides, if anything, he'd have wanted to downplay this to keep people's minds on the job instead of floating around trying to deal with the situation in their own heads. As it was, he imagined the Counsellors were gonna have some great fun with this one. Trill to help out with, then traumatised crewmembers to work with. Kinda reminded him of the conversation he'd had with Nara earlier in the day. They had their work cut out for them.

He didn't really know any Trills. Okay, there HAD been that incident with Doctor Lias in Ten Forward, but that was Saul's fault and not his. Besides, getting that man out of a tight spot (as if he didn't have enough women troubles) did not really constitute knowing somebody. She was a brief acquitance, nothing more. But of everyone on the ship, she was probably the one likely to be at the forefront - her homeworld, after all. And since she was on the medical staff, it was more than likely she'd be down there, sooner or later.

As he walked into Shuttlebay 2, he was inadvertantly pushed, pulled, knocked to one side and damn well near flattened by the number of people running around in there. The doors didn't have opportunity to close, and it was only because he was tall and not in a good mood that he got through the mess at all. There were several shuttles parked and ready to go, most of them currently being loaded with the supplies they'd need to set up Triages on the planet's surface. Sufficed to say, he wasn't needed on the Bridge, since the ship was stuck in orbit and they hardly needed a pilot, especially with Lieutenant Savoie on the Bridge.

He walked up to the nearest shuttle and patted it with his hand as he walked beside it. The last time he'd flown one of these things, someone was intent on trying to see how many shots a Federation Shuttle could take before it went kaboom and ended the career of a particularly irritated ensign. Nobody'd be doing that this time, not with the Galaxy hanging around. Okay, it was but one ship, but it was a big ship, and not one that several Galor-Class Cardassian ships could take down. If anyone was looking to come back and play with the Trill while they were already having problems, the Captain'd smack tens bells out of them before you could blink. After all, he was human, and they were more impulsive even than Bajorans when you got them annoyed.

Sighing, he walked around the back of the shuttle and stepped aboard, ignoring the looks he got from several of those he had to step past in order to do so. Not that he blamed them. Everybody looked as though they'd just been in the middle of a quiet meal and seen a 4ft fly land in their soup. Quickly he checked the cockpit - no pilot. How it was this ship managed when they couldn't even find enough capable pilots to fill the shuttle front seats, he'd never know. He sighed and muttered a curse in Bajoran, then took the front seat, switching the controls over to manual. He hated flying with computer assistance. Took all the fun out of it.

Within a minute, the shuttle was filled to capacity with crates of supplies and the personnel that were going down to the surface with them. All they had to do was get down there now, and the work would begin. Instead of waiting for hell, they were gonna shuttle right down there. And he'd been looking forward to a quiet trip to Trill, too.

"Aftershocks"

Ensign Eytan, Medical Officer

"Alright, he's stabilized," Eytan said as he moved away and removed his gloves and gown, disposing of them to keep the environment as sterile as possible. "You can move him to a more secure location now," he added to a pair of Trill med-techs, nodding at them both. The med-techs gently moved Eytan's patient out of the room, and as soon as they were gone Eytan collapsed in a nearby chair, suddenly realizing just how exhausted he was. Even after fifteen hours of searching for and treating survivors, more continued to turn up, almost all of them in serious or critical condition.

~The bastards who did this knew exactly when and where to strike in order to inflict the maximum amount of casualties,~ Eytan thought, a scowl marring his features for a moment. He rubbed his eyes slowly and stretched, knowing that there were more Trills who needed his help, but also recognizing that doctors were hampered by the same limitations as any other humanoid, and needed to take a minute or two to rest.

Finally he stood and made his way out of the alcove he'd commandeered for his use and looked around the triage area for another patient. He saw a med-tech carrying a young Trill girl into the room, and he quickly made his way toward them both. "What happened?" he asked as he helped the med-tech carry the girl into the alcove.

"Oh, you haven't heard?" the med-tech asked in a moment of resigned sarcasm. She was quickly met with Eytan's steely glance, and she swallowed, refocusing herself and looking down at the girl as she spoke. "I found her not too far from the damage radius," she explained. "It doesn't look like she was caught in the initial blast, thank goodness; her injuries were probably caused by a secondary explosion from a nearby building."

Eytan nodded, examining the girl with his eyes as they brought her inside the alcove. His left hand moved across the girl's back, searching for any wounds there, when he felt blood on his fingers. "Damn," he whispered. He took the girl into his arms to free the med-tech's hands. "Get some sterilized instruments ready," he ordered the med-tech, "we need to operate immediately." He gently lay the girl down on her stomach and cut part of the back of her shirt open so he could clearly see her wounds, then ran a scanner over her to determine exactly what was wrong. He then glanced up at the monitor and tapped the screen, rotating the image so that he could see her back.

"I think I've discovered what's wrong," he announced grimly. "She has several pieces of shrapnel buried in her back; no doubt she was facing the opposite direction when the explosion occurred. Most of them are small and either buried in the skin or muscle tissue, but this one here could present a problem," he added, touching the screen again and magnifying her lower back, showing them both the largest of the pieces had partially entered the girl's spinal column.

The med-tech frowned at the monitor for a moment, then quickly returned to prepping the surgical instruments. "Can you extract it without causing any more harm, Doctor?"

"Possibly. But even if I can, she may be paralyzed for the rest of her life. Still, I have to try; this girl isn't beyond saving by any means," Eytan declared, and then quickly got himself gowned, gloved, and prepped for surgery. He made an incision in the girl's back, and the med-tech applied retractors to keep the incision open enough for Eytan to work. As he worked carefully to get a clamp on the shrapnel and remove it from the girl's spine without causing any further damage while the med-tech handled everything else, letting Eytan focus completely on removing that piece of shrapnel.

They worked for what seemed like hours but was really only seconds. Eytan's eyes narrowed and he gritted his teeth, as if he was trying to will the shrapnel out of the girl's back. Suddenly he heard footsteps coming from behind, and he kept one ear perked as he continued to concentrate on the girl in front of him. "Whatever it is," he spoke firmly, "it will have to wait until I'm finished here."

"Begging your pardon, Doctor, but we have an emergency here, this is a very important--" came the voice of whoever it was behind him.

"Don't give me that; I have a real emergency right here in front of me!" Eytan snapped, though he never lost his focus on his patient. "I am not going to give up on this child, whom I can and *will* save, just because a politician, athlete, member of the Symbiosis Commission, or any other 'more important member of Trill society' sprained his ankle or scraped his knee. Now if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you would find a more suitable location to help your patient," the Brenari finished with a slight growl in his voice. He could see in the reflection of the monitor beside him that the new patient was barely injured at all, and probably was convinced that he should be treated ahead of any others, even those with much more serious injuries, just because of his position. ~Politics have no place in medicine,~ Eytan reminded himself, something he was told back on Voyager.

Mercifully the overbearing visitors departed, and Eytan returned to his work, fighting his anger down so that he could keep his mind solely on saving his patient. The worst thing that could happen now was him slipping up just because he couldn't hold his temper.

And then, at last, the piece of shrapnel pulled free, and Eytan carefully removed it from the girl's body, dropping it in an empty pan by the bed. He let out a deep breath and then quickly moved to repair the damage to the girl's spinal cord and any neurological trauma caused by the shrapnel's presence.

"Is she going to be alright?" the med-tech asked, watching Eytan work.

Eytan sighed. "She'll probably walk with a limp for the rest of her life, but that should be the extent of the injury's effect. Here, help me remove the rest of this shrapnel," he said, and with the med-tech's help, he retrieved every last bit of foreign material that had been buried in the girl's back, and then used a dermal regenerator to seal every wound and incision. He took a step back.

"That should do it," he said tiredly. "Go ahead and get her out of here, others will be needing this space." As the med-tech left with the still-unconscious girl, Eytan repeated the same process he'd just gone through half an hour ago, removing the gown and gloves and disposing of them, and then sitting down again for a few minutes. He shook his head, wondering why he'd decided to go into medicine when he knew that he would be responsible for so many lives. Then he recalled his years in the Devore camps, and he shivered, reaching a hand up and rubbing at the scar on his head. Finally he stood and hurried out of the room, looking for something to take his mind off his memories.

For once there was a short lull in the influx of patients, which brought Eytan hope that maybe things were finally beginning to calm down. He made his way through the EMA control center until he found the people who kept track of who had come and gone through the center...or tried to, anyway. "Hey," he greeted one of them wearily. "Have you heard anything yet?" he asked.

The Trill woman paused in thought and then consulted her disorganized records. After a minute she looked back up at Eytan and shook her head, a frown on her face. "I'm afraid Doctor Nox hasn't been brought in here," she said. "We try to keep track as best as we can, but you know how chaotic things have been, Eytan. Plus it's possible that he managed to escape the blast, or at least the worst part of it..."

Eytan sighed and nodded. "I hope so," he replied. He gave her a tired smile and laid a hand on her arm. "Let me know if he turns up." With that he turned and headed back down the hallway, looking for someone else he could help.

"Unfinished Business"

(Backpost: Set shortly after the resolution of the freighter problem.)

by

Lt. JG Tarin Iniara, Operations Chief

Ensign Saul Bental, Intelligence Officer

"So much to do, so much to do."

Iniara sighed heavily, dropping into her office chair. A seemingly unending stream of tasks and projects had crossed her desk since she had been promoted. She had just about caught up when the memory jumping had started, which had left her more than slightly distracted. Then there had been the excitement with the freighter, and trying to keep Jasmine Heloi in the here and now. After everything had quieted down, Iniara felt like she could sleep for days.

But it wasn't meant to be, at least not now. She had more important things to attend to, and quite a long list from the looks of her computer screen. Scanning the list, she mentally categorized and prioritized each item.

"So much to do, so little...Bental?" Iniara asked out loud, confusion evident in her voice. According to her notes, Ensign Bental's rooming situation still had not been corrected. Ah yes, that was when the whole memory thing started, she remembered.

Part of her was tempted to take the easy route: stick him in the smaller room on Deck Five and be done with it. But something about their shared memory encounter had stuck with her. Suddenly she realized she was itching to discuss the experience with him. One piece of it in particular.

Without hesitation she tapped her commbadge. "Tarin to Ensign Bental. Please report to my office at your earliest convenience." Turning to the replicator, she ordered a very large mug of coffee, then went back to her to-do list.

* * * * *

Saul leaned toward the display, resting his chin on one hand. The report on the growing piracy in the outlands was fascinating, and only strengthened what he told his previous CO, Lt.Commander Stom. The stolen Driznok fleet striked in several key locations, intercepting cargo vessels and raiding lightly defended outposts. Strangely enough, all of these raids were conducted against the neighbours and enemies of the Driznok.

"Yo ho ho and a bottle of room." Saul murmured to himself, and returned to the list of Lily squad candidates. He still toyed with the decision who to put second on the list and who to put third, when he received Iniara's hail.

"Well, you can't keep a lady waiting." He chuckled to himself, stood up, and left the room without any delay.

The corridors of the ship were humming with movement, and so was the Operations center. Saul quickly located the Operations chief, and beamed at her. The quarters issue wasn't closed yet so he had to stay on her better side - and besides, it was always good to keep a good relation with the ship's Operations chief if you ever needed anything... extra.

Plus, from his little contact with her, Lieutenant Tarin seemed like a nice enough lady, and that counted for something too.

"How are you doing, Lieutenant?"

"I didn't expect to see you so soon," she replied, smiling widely as she motioned him into her office. She picked up her giant mug of coffee, then paused with it halfway to her lips. "Can I get you anything?"

"No no, I'm good."

"So I just realized that we never finished your quarters reassignment," Iniara explained as she settled into her desk chair.

"Yes..." Saul recalled what happened the last time he met the Chief of OPS. The memories from the raid and from the hilly scenery were very vivid in his mind's eyes, much like most of the other memories he had experienced. "With everything that happened, I just put it off for a while. For the time being the quartermaster didn't assign me any new bunk mate, so I am in no hurry."

"Ahh. Well, now that I've got you here, let's see if we can get it taken care of." Iniara turned to her console, reading the information out to Saul. “There are still the two rooms available on Deck Five: one in section thirty-four measuring sixty-seven square meters in size, and a slightly larger one in section twelve which is eighty-four square meters. Apparently they are both single occupancy rooms left over after the ship's Guest Quarters were reconfigured during the refit."

Taking a sip of her coffee Iniara looked back up at Saul. "The last remaining room on Deck Nine was filled about a week ago, so those are your two choices. Any preference?"

"The larger one, of course. Unless it is especially far from a turbolift... I won't have time to run around corridors should emergency arise. Also, if there's anything near the hull, I would prefer a room with a view."

Saul paused, then a grin emerged. "Rather demanding and spoiled, aren't I?"

A short laugh escaped Iniara's lips, but she said nothing further. Instead she tapped a few more buttons on her console. "Both rooms are almost equally close to the turbolifts on Deck Five. The smaller room is located on the hull, and it's near the front of the ship so it will obviously have a good view. The larger room however is an interior room. No windows."

"The smaller room is far from cramped, so unless you're planning on building large-scale models or practicing acrobatics, it would probably be your best bet."

"I agree - thanks for giving me a new home! So... what happened to you after I left you on that hill?" Saul asked, slightly more relaxed now that his privacy was ensured.

"Ah yes, that." Iniara still felt a bit unnerved after the initial memory swap. Making a conscious decision to share her past was tough enough; unwittingly drawing others into a recreation of her memories was another thing entirely.

"After I left you, I thought I had returned to the present, to the time and place that is supposed to be real. But that turned out to be another memory, one from Havras in fact. From there I hopped through several memories from various stages of my life. At one point I got so frustrated I started scanning for living, breathing crewmembers, trying to figure out who was real and who was not. I touched the minds of whoever-- whatever it is that caused this, and it scared the hell out of me. Then I ran into Lieutenant Jamson, one of my Operations Officers, and soon after I forced myself out of the memory cycling."

"But not once did I really seem to be in someone else's memories, at least not until the perception jumping started later. I hate to think what memories of mine I was projecting, and who happened to get caught in them." She grimaced. "Uncontrolled telepathy can sometimes be dangerous. I think that's why I was so engrossed in the first memory...why it took me so long to understand what was actually going on."

Saul frowned for a moment. How could she be a telepath if she was a Betazoid? But then, he recalled her calling him Imzadi on the hillside, when the wind brushed their faces and carried voices and memories into the wind. It didn't take an Intelligence analyst to reach the obvious conclusion.

"I didn't realize it was harder on Betazoids... or part Betazoids. I assumed that your familiarity with thoughts as something which isn't necessarily private would help you confront the phenomenon."

"As did I. But I was born with telepathic abilities much stronger than most Betazoids, let alone half-Betazoids, and I've struggled to keep it in check ever since. Sometimes I just can't do it. I can't say exactly how it relates, but I think that has something to do with it."

"So what happened with you?" she continued. "Did you find anything important along that path?"

Saul sighed. "It was an interesting trip. But as much as I love adventures, I think my life would be simpler if I hadn't followed that road. It led me to some places which should've been kept unvisited."

"That seems to be a common theme with these experiences. I wish these beings would have just tell us what they wanted with our memories. Were they studying us? Torturing us? Perhaps both?" After her encounter with the being in Jasmine’s head she had figured out a lot more regarding the aliens, but that didn’t alleviate her confusion as much as she would have liked.

"In my case, I regard it as a personal defeat. My department was unable to provide intelligence which could have aided the crew in facing the incident," Saul said sternly. "I'm going to have my squad document everything so that the next Starfleet crew who encounter these beings won't be caught unprepared."

"I may have a thing or two to add to that report," Iniara told him. "As I'm sure some of the other empaths and telepaths on board would."

"Eventually I suppose a single, official report will be compiled. I have no idea who's going to be responsible, but since the Intelligence department is primarily 'Starfleet Intelligence's embassy' as we like to call it, we'll probably send a report of our own to S.F.I only. I'll contact you about it if I learn anything new."

Saul straightened his uniform, eliminating a couple of wrinkles. "I really should get going and take care of that - and other things - so unless there's anything else..."

"Actually, there's one thing I wanted to ask you about. Before you disappeared down that path, I think I caught a bit of one of your memories. It came through all jumbled; I wasn't sure what I was seeing." Iniara paused, debating how best to continue. In reality she felt fairly certain of what she had seen, but didn't want to give it away just yet.

Saul suddenly became very alert. No one visited his own memories as far as he knew, and there were much too many memories which were risky to share. With a tense tone, he asked, "Are you sure it was mine?"

"I remember seeing a Ferengi. He was on a screen, a comm panel, talking to someone on a sofa. There was a name. Re...Reiziger?" she asked, stumbling a bit on the complicated name. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"Of course it does. It's in Dutch, a Terran language. It means traveler," Saul replied, as though it was the most negligible question in the universe. "I've had a friend or two with that family name back on Utrecht III - Humans of Dutch origin are quite common there."

None of that was a lie, of course. Saul was not going to lie to a semi-Betazoid in the face and expect to get away with it. The art was not to lie but to withhold the truth, manipulate it to your own needs.

"So what else was in that memory?" Saul asked casually.

Iniara wasn't nearly as skilled at manipulating and withholding facts to suit her needs, so she decided to just come out with it. "The Ferengi said they were going to assassinate a Starfleet officer," she said, her voice becoming much quieter. While she talked, she let her mental shields drop just a bit to try and read Saul's reaction before he actually reacted.

It was no surprise to her that beneath the calm and mildly interested appearance, Saul Bental was apprehensive. "Go on."

"He said, 'I never thought of you as a murderer, Reiziger.’ That was the man on the sofa--Reiziger. The man whose perspective the memory came from. And I think it was you."

There was no point in denying, and Saul was not going to confess either. He quickly thought of an alternate plan, one which will keep Iniara unclear whether he is that Reiziger or not, and that will prevent her from prying further into the matter.

"Lieutenant," he began, his tone stern, "I am not at liberty to discuss this matter, and I am sorry that you had to see these sights. Let me just reassure you - I have never, in my life, murdered or tried to murder a Starfleet officer."

“I see. Well in that case, I’m sorry I brought it up,” Iniara replied, her tone of voice not entirely apologetic. “Consider the matter closed, then.”

"That's good, that's good." Saul nodded absently. "I guess the memory swapping caused such awkward situations throughout the ship. But no harm was done. I'll see you later, then."

Iniara did her best to smile, though it felt more than a little forced. “Until later. Enjoy your new quarters.”

"Caught Undefended"

Ensign Saul Bental, Intelligence Officer

"Shalom Miramon, just wanted to let you know that I'm well. Looks like we're going to postpone our trip to the symbiont caves with Tizarin for a while… speaking of which, I'm going to try and talk to her once everything settles down. Godspeed. Computer send message."

Saul tapped on his commbadge twice and staggered into the Intelligence CIC. He was still feeling slightly dazed, but that was compensated by the sheer levels of adrenaline now flooding his body.

The magnitutde of the disaster was something he was yet to cope with, as well as how it affected his plans. The contract on Naranda, the meeting Janny spoke about, the visit to the symbiont caves… everything he intended to do was pushed aside in face of what happened. Saul was not going to give up on his plans, though – he was just going to do it all AND deal with the crisis.

Like a juggler with one juggling ball too much.

Several eyes met his as he entered, but the reactions weren't as surprised as they would if not for the crash. The people at Intel knew that Saul has collapsed, but right now they had better things to do than to ask him what happened.

Saul quickly located Nyoko Yuuri from his squad. If Paulo DiMillo was rapidly becoming his biggest rival in the department, Nyoko became his best ally since Cora approved her assignment to the Secondary Intelligence Unit. Cora was nowhere in sight, but Saul assumed she was in her office or on her way.

"Saul! I thought you were hospitalized.", she said, taking her eyes off the display she was hunched over only for a split-second.

"I'm here now. Bring me up to date."

In short, accurate sentences Nyoko described the current situation to Saul. It looked grim, very grim.

Saul wasn't sure what was worse – the implications of the disaster or the fact that they were caught with their pants down. There were no hints prior to the catastrophe that someone was going to commit such an atrocity.

The fact that from all the places on the planet to crash into the ship 'selected' the Trill capital city suggested that it wasn't an accident, and if that was the case then Starfleet Intelligence was to blame. SFI was the organization responsible for halting such threats before they hit the Federation population.

"The best we can do right now is to help the relief efforts and try to prevent any other damage.", Nyoko concluded. "Oh, and we already have the ship's name. It was the Akula, a Prometheus class Starship due to be decommissioned in six months."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Because the Prometheus class was launched on 2374? Yes, I know, we're checking it right now with Starfleet command. There's also a problem with the damage radius not fitting the damage we expect a ship weighting 2100000 metric tons to cause, and we're checking that too. With all the chaos, several communication relays around the sector were overloaded, so… these things take time."

"Do we know where this ship was heading? Was it even supposed to be here?"

"I'm not sure… we're checking." Nyoko looked helpless. "I'll ask Paulo if he has anything new on that, I think he was the first one to find out the ship's name."

Saul frowned. "You do that."

As Nyoko dashed on her way, Saul turned to gaze horrified at the console showing Leran Marev in flames.

* * * 11/9/2001, IDF Intelligence Research Headquarters, Israel, 10:00 AM * * *

As the corporal dashed on her way, Doron turned to gaze horrified at the television, showing New York in flames.

"Here's what we know." proclaimed Avi Rabinovitz. The Intelligence Captain was – unlike Doron – in uniform. He was the head of the desk which focused on U.S. affairs. He was the man who was supposed to forsee this, and he didn’t. He was addressing a group of officers which, like Doron, came in to learn all the information they can get about the disaster for their sections and units. There were officers from the research division, but from other units of the IDF Intelligence as well.

"At 8:45, a passengers airplane crashed into the North tower of the World Trade Center at New York. Eighteen minutes later, another plane crashed into the Southern center. We still have no idea who is behind this attack, but we're diverting all of our efforts – ALL OF THEM – to find out. The foreign relations section already contacted local CIA representatives, but so far no new information was divulged. We don't have information on any similar threats to Israeli-"

At that moment, Doron saw something that made his entire body run cold, as though someone just spilled a bucket of ice on his naked skin.

"Look" was the only thing he could say.

The entire group turned away from Captain Rabinovitz and watched in disbelief as the Southern tower gave up and collapsed into the ground.

"The quick growing up."

Ensign William Warbeck, Tactical

He frowned as he held the guitar close, sitting cross-legged on the bed. This was strange, strange because it all still went around in his head. The confusion, the loss…yet he had his identity back. It was something. He closed his eyes, stroking a note gently. Why was he glad to have it back? The dark spot inside where he sometimes ran to. Why would anyone want that spot?

Because it was his.

He sighed and started to play, tears coming to his eyes. He tried to remember the song that Matthew had sung, and it took him several long moments to remember. “Underneath the harvest moon where the ancient shadows will play and hide, with a ghostly tune and the devil's pride. "Stranger" whispered all the town, has he come to save us from Satan's hand? Leading them away to a foreign land…Play for me minstrel, play and take away our sorrows. Play for me minstrel, play and we'll follow. Hear, listen, can you hear the haunting melody surrounding you, weaving a magic spell all around you. Danger hidden in his eyes, we should have seen it from far away. Wearing such a thin disguise in the light of day. He held the answer to our prayers yet it was too good to be. Proof before our eyes yet we could not see...”

Always so unfair. He stopped to play, taking a breath to collect himself. "There are much bigger things at risk," he whispered to himself, putting the guitar away. "Much bigger things." He got up and wiped his tears, a look of determination coming to him. He’d be damned if he played the weaker party again. Ever.

"As you were"

Ella Grey

****

Engineering was like a disaster zone, no pun intended.

Officers were running around trying to get everything done before the ship arrived at Trill and the long list of to-do's- everything from replicating things that the survivors might need to making sure that all replicators were functioning at top level- made them all resemble a flock of chickens with their heads cut off.

Ella had long given up trying to smile politely at the ensign before her. She'd already sent him three times to help check the shuttlecraft yet he kept coming back to her with a new order requests.

Despite the fact that the Quick Virus was now gone, the USS Galaxy was like any other starship- when disaster struck, everyone's food replicators or sonic showers needed to be repaired.

She shook her head again at the ensign, thankful that she had decided to wear her hair in a fashionable Janeway-Bun-of-Steel for the day. Her uniform was already covered in dirt and wrinkled from a fun jaunt through the Jeffries tubes.

*THEY'LL HAVE TO WAIT* Ella typed on her computer PADD as the man read over her shoulder. *WE HAVE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO WORRY ABOUT THAN SOMEONE'S HYGIENE*

"And then there's this woman who says her food replicator won't replicate eggs." The ensign told her.

*SHE CAN BORROW THEM FROM NEXT DOOR*

"And then there's..." He began before Ella stamped her foot.

*THEY CAN WAIT!!!!* Ella typed. *YOU'RE NEEDED IN THE SHUTTLE BAY. STILL.*

"But," He started and she finally gave in.

"No!" Ella Grey said clearly, or as clear as a robot sounded at any rate. "Shuttles first. Betty Crocker and Mr. Clean later."

In what Ella would later think was coordinated, everyone within her proximity stopped abruptly. Several mouths hung open and those who weren't gaping were making a good show of looking at her in obvious confusion. The ensign next to her did both.

Ella felt herself flush. So much for keeping it a secret. She glared at the ensign since it was all his fault. "Shuttle bay. Now."

He scampered off and Ella was left with a small crowd of people.

Ella lifted her chin. "As you were."

OOC: As Tish goes through her "transformation", her flashbacks should help you understand some of her back story. Enjoy at your own risk/Consumption mileage may vary/Discuss treatment with your doctor first. -- MJ

WARNING: Some graphic/disturbing content. Read at your own discretion.

"Phoenix, Part II"

T'Shani Akledorian

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

Catch me as I fall,
say you’re here and it's all over now

Speaking to the atmosphere,
no one’s here and I fall into myself

This truth drives me,
into madness

I know I can stop the pain,
if I will it all away

If I will it all away...

== Stardate 48905.14 (16 years ago): Raath Mountains, Seltax VII ==

She was cold, shivering. It had been eight hours since her escape from the encampment, where her fathers and mother had been beaten, tortured, and killed. They had even used her for their own pleasure. She had escaped, but not without injury.

After violating her, the General had begun to torture her, as well. When the Planetary Air Guard attempted its bombardment of the original base camp, it provided the needed distraction for her to escape. Having been stripped already, she hadn't the time to grab any clothing; she had run for her life, literally.

She had been up all night, listening and watching for any sign of the treacherous aliens that had come to take this world. It was now approaching dawn. She didn't want to travel in the daytime, but she had to get back to Raath Ra'Chuul and warn the others about the plans she had overheard.

She paused in her breathing, having thought she had heard something. Her uninjured antenna twitched as she sensed the presence of someone--wait, someones--approaching. Quietly, gingerly, she moved to the mouth of the cave. Peeking around a boulder, her eyes confirmed what her other senses had alerted her to.

They were searching. Searching for her.

Closely, she strained to listen, her left antenna straining forward while the right one hung limply over her forehead.

"She's here, I know it, Centurion."

"Subcommander, she could be anywhere by now. In the shape she was in, I'd be surprised if she lasted the night. It gets very cold up here in this mountain forest."

"She's still alive," the first one said adamantly.

"How are you sure?" the second one asked in his gruff voice.

"Her blood trails off," he paused following the purple drops of blood over the ground.

Panicked, she clamped her legs together, hoping that she wasn't still bleeding. She held her breath, not making a sound as the Romulan slowly walked toward the opening of the cave, disruptor drawn.

Silently, she pressed her body into the wall of the cave with all of her might, mentally willing herself to become part of the wall. The Subcommander drew closer... he was headed straight for her! This was it; she would either escape or die. But either way, she'd put up a fierce fight, just like she had when she had escaped.

He was only a meter away...

["Subcommander, this is Base One."]

The Romulan paused, opening his communicator while still holding his disruptor to the ready.

"What is it?!" he snapped, clearly annoyed that his hunt was being interrupted.

["General Tov needs you to return immediately."]

"I am searching for one of the escaped Andorians, Lieutenant! I will return when I have captured her!" he hissed angrily at the communicator as he backed away from T'Shani. She let out a silent sigh of relief.

["The General demands your return, Subcommander. He needs your assistance for the planning of the attack on the capital."]

He snorted in anger and annoyance "Very well, then," the Romulan acquiesced. "Tell the General that I will be there shortly with my Centurion. Tavas, out." He shut the communicator and holstered his weapon.

The Centurion looked up, noticing that Subcommander Tavas had not returned with the girl. "Did you dispose of her, my commander?" he asked, while standing up from the rock he was perched on.

"No, Teval. General Tav needs us back at the base," he finished without expounding, walking toward the meadow.

Centurion Teval followed. "My commander, what of the girl?"

Tavas shrugged, turning back to his Centurion. "What of her, Teval? She is only a small girl, already..." he paused, a cruel smile forming across his face, "*broken* in by the General. She will not survive another night. And if she does, some beast is sure to eat her alive. I am not worried about her." He turned briskly, making his way to the landspeeders they had parked near the edge of the meadow.

Teval hesitated for a moment, before following his commander. "My commander. What if she makes it back to the city? She might tell them of our plan to..."

"Silence, Centurion!" Tavas turned and shouted, his face turning a deep copper-green hue in anger. "Do you question the orders of your commander?!"

Teval did, in fact. But he knew better than to challenge Tavas, on this matter. Bowing his head in appropriate submission, "No, my commander. I do not."

"Good, then..."

*SNAP!*

"What was that?!"

~Rhooz,~ T'Shani swore under her breath from high above the Subcommander, as she lay prone over a thick branch of a Reka tree. It's thick, bushy foliage having hidden her ascent as the two Romulans--"Greenbloods", as her Thuuba called them--argued amongst themselves. She had been just about to pounce on them when she had grabbed a branch next to her, to steady herself, when it had snapped.

Tavas drew his disruptor, its bright green duaranite casing glinting in the rising light of day. She watched, silently, noting that the the reflected sunslight was reflecting in the Centurion's eyes, inadvertently. Now was her chance.

"EEEEEYAAAAAAAIIII!!!" she screamed with all the might of her lungs, leaping from her perch to land solidly on the shoulders of Tavas, knocking him to the ground and causing him to lose his grip on his disruptor, sending it flying to the ground.

Stunned, Tavas tried to get up, watching as Teval drew his weapon.

*BLAM!*

"My commander!"

*SCRRREEEEAAARRRCH!!!*

Tavas watched with a strange sense of awe as the blue-skinned girl grabbed the disruptor, pointed it at his Centurion and pulled the trigger. It had been set to its highest disruption level, causing Teval's molecules to slowly disintegrate into oblivion.

Anger filled Tavas's frame. To be beat by a worthless, naked, Blueskin girl! He rushed at her, arms outstretched. He would rip every limb and antenna from her body!

Again, T'Shani pulled the trigger, a perverse glee filling her soul at the thought of killing this man.

*FIZZLE, POP*

Tavas was almost upon her! She pressed the trigger again, to no avail!

~Ha! She overheated it!~ Tavas thought while tackling her around the waist, sending the now-useless blaster skeeting into the depth of the forest.

"NOOOOO!" she screamed as he pinned her on her back, a hand at her throat, while driving his knee violently into her groin.

"*Nfffgh*," She grunted as his knee connected, instantly sending pain coursing through her body. She could feel blood begin to flow again from between her legs.

Smiling sadistically, he reached for the knife he kept hidden in his boot. It flashed in rays of the morning dawn. "I'll finish you, you little bitch." he sliced the blade across her torso, below her breast and down to her abdomen. She cried out in pain and terror, realizing that this was to be her end, after all.

"But first," he smiled wickedly, once more, "I think I'm going to *enjoy* myself." He removed his knee from between her legs, while picking her up and hoisting her by the neck. He carried her, in this fashion, to a nearby tree. Once there, he threw her against the tree's trunk, pinning her between it and himself.

Panting for breath, and weak from exhaustion, she could only cry as held the knife to her throat, hastily disrobed himself, and entered...

== Stardate 50502.25 (The present): Undisclosed Location ==

"She's crashing!"

"Stat's are down, beginning CPR!"

"Get her back, now!"

The OR was in chaos as nurses and doctors rushed around the convulsing body of the Andorian woman. Daniels watched from an overhead observation theater. Turning to his "colleague"--at least, in this time-dimension--he frowned.

"What is happening, Gary?"

The man next to him was quickly trying to read over the holomonitors in the observation room. "It appears that the wipe isn't as easy, with this one."

Daniels remained calmed and professional on the outside. But inside, he was quite worried for T'Shani. He couldn't lose her; it had taken them so long to find her. "Explain," he commanded, but quietly.

"Not all the memory engrams are easy to extract and/or suppress. Some engrams, especially those of very traumatic memories, are deeply layered in the subcortex; their removal may interfere with some of her higher cognitive and mobile functions."

"Can you still save her?"

'Gary' frowned, while watching the doctors and nurses below. "Only time will tell, Agent."

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

Lyrics from "Whisper"
Composed by Amy Lee and Ben Moody
Performed by Evanescence
From the album "Fallen"
Published by Wind-Up Records, (c) 2003

"The Rumor of the Talking Mute"

Ensign 8-ball Hunter

As the Galaxy made it's way to Trill, the news of the the alien world's devestation had been spreading around the ship quickly, from one person to another at the speed of light, or at the speed of mating tribbles, whichever one was faster. However, as the news began to slowly die down, a new rumor began. . .one of far more personal consequence to 8-ball.

At the time of the new rumor, 8-ball was busy doing something she really very rarely did: working. And really working, too, not just kind of playing around in the science labs. You could just look at her working and actually use the adjective 'diligent' to describe it. It was a strange thing. None of the other science officers understood it, but they decided not to comment because like everyone else on Galaxy, they were all extremely busy.

It was mostly because of what had happened on Trill that 8-ball was paying attention to work at all. Since that annoying ensign had burst into her room to tell her what had happened, 8-ball had been feeling particularly useless and she didn't like it. She knew there wasn't a lot she could do at the moment to help anybody on Trill. She didn't even think that when she got to the planet she was going to be of much use. But she still had this annoying, nagging feeling like she was supposed to be doing something, along with an even more annoying feeling of guilt that she was alive and safe and at least mostly happy. Therefore, to curb these irritating feelings, 8-ball was trying out the whole working diligently thing. It was kind of weird, and she wasn't sure how long she would keep up with it.

It was suggested that the counselors on the Galaxy would have a more productive time helping the survivors through their grief if they knew a little more about the Trill lifestyle. As 8-ball wasn't particularly comfortable around Trills, she had never bothered to learn much about it, only enough to get her by as being the anthro kid in the science department. Now, as 8-ball researched about Trill family lifestyles and household arrangements, a lieutenant walked up to her and said, "Have you heard?"

8-ball looked up at her in surprise. The lieutenant in question was a roughly the same age as her, noticeably more organized and orderly, and ultimately didn't look like a fun person to hang out with. 8-ball had the vague idea that her name was Kathy or Kate or something, but they didn't talk much, if at all. The girl worked mostly in the organic chemistry department and seemed to have freakish joy about her work, as if this was a fun thing to do. 8-ball frowned at her.

"Heard what?" 8-ball asked. This couldn't be about Trill. Everyone and their dog knew about that now.

"Well, you know that mute who works in Engineering? I think she's the assistant chief, or something."

8-ball shrugged. "Sure, Ella."

"Yeah, her." Kathy-Kate failed to note that 8-ball was on a first name basis with the engineer. "She's the freakshow that wouldn't talk because she got attacked or something like that a long time ago, right? Well, get this: she's talking again."

At first, 8-ball didn't hear the significant part of this news. All she heard was the word 'freakshow' and was wondering if starting a fight with this organic chemistry lover would ruin her chances of being called a good worker for the day. She began to tell this woman that she could take her obviously bleached hair and shove it up her obviously tight ass when she stopped. And blinked. Twice.

"What?"

"Yeah," Kathy-Kate said. "Though it's not like her real voice or anything. Apparantly, she got some implant or something because now her voice is all mechanical, like a computer. Which is totally weird, if you ask me: why get some procedure done when you can use your own voice. I mean, it's not like she lost it or anything. Or did she. . .I really don't know the details."

8-ball stared at Kathy-Kate. She blinked three more times.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, yeah," Kathy-Kate said. "My friend's roomate's brother works down in engineering, and he saw the whole thing. I'm glad I don't work in engineering. I wouldn't want to work with that weirdo."

Though still in a strange state of shock, 8-ball began to notice the offensiveness of Kathy-Kate. 8-ball glared at her. "That weirdo is my friend, so if you want to shut the hell up any time in the near future, like now, it'd, you know, really be appreciated."

Kathy-Kate opened her mouth but couldn't seem to come up with a good comeback and settled at staring at 8-ball, who had long since forgotten trill culture. Abruptly, she stood up and left the PADD she was reading on the table. "Where are you going?" Kathy-Kate asked.

"I've got to talk to Ella," 8-ball said. "How could she do this and not tell me about it? I'm totally going to have to kick her ass."

"Are you really mad at her?"

8-ball thought about it. "Actually, no," she said. "Not really. I'm not surprised she didn't mention anything to me. That's not really Ella's style. But that's not the point at all."

Kathy-Kate looked confused. "What is the point?"

8-ball looked at her incredulously. "Ella's TALKING again. The VOLUNTARY MUTE is suddenly TALKING. That's kind of big news, you know, and obviously requires a couple of dacquiris or a few ice cream sundaes and a friendship gab fest about what's changed and what's going to happen and how this is going to impact her life, her soul, and her ongoing torment with Vicky the studmuffin. I mean, it's sort of a necessary human ritual. Don't you have any friends at all?"

Kathy-Kate again was struck speechless. 8-ball, not really interested in whatever Kathy-Kate would have to say anyway, began to head for the door. "Um, but T'Pol. . ." Kathy-Kate said.

"8-ball," 8-ball said, ignoring her.

"Fine, 8-ball then, you can't just go now."

"Why not?"

It was Kathy-Kate's turn to look increduous. "You're on duty," Kathy-Kate said. "You can't just leave. It's. . .it's. . .it's un-Starfleet like."

8-ball shrugged. "You know, sometimes I wonder how I got into Starfleet at all," she said. "Tell Heloi I'll be back in twenty minutes. I have to go run a very important, mission specific errand."

"But that's a lie!"

"Only if you look at it in a certain way," 8-ball said. "From my point of view, it's completely true. I do have a mission specific errand."

"How is your talking to that weirdo going to have any impact on Trill?"

8-ball thought about it. "Approximately, if you round up a percent or two, carry the one, multiply it by 600. . .about none. I never said that was my mission."

"Then what's your mission?" Kathy-Kate asked, confused at this strange ensign she was talking to.

"To find out about The Tale of the Talking Mute," 8-ball said and left the department and her diligence behind.

"Saul is AWOL"

Klaus Fienberg
Branwen London

Branwen came running into sickbay, she was out of breath. She had no idea when Commander Dallas would call her for away duty. And she needed to know what was wrong with Saul first.

Quickly she spotted the doctor. "Saul Bental is here. Could you please tell me what is wrong with him?"

"I was hoping someone would be able to tell ME where he was. He woke up from a coma several hours before the news of the Disaster on Trill was received. Apparently he must have thought he was well enough go help....." Klaus accidentally evaded the questioned in personal annoyance. A patient that wants to get back to duty made him happy, but a patient that escapes his personal supervision tends to piss Klaus off. "Oh...right. He was required to take a special medication due to....well...a genetic defect, or else he suffers the symptoms he had in recent times, including the coma." Considering what he knews of Saul....Klaus already knew where he was actually.

"I would gather he's in Intelligence....."

"He's gone..." Bran could not believe her ears. On he in danger, does he need any medication. Do we need to go and find him. I have to go down to the planet. The counselors are going to help the survivors." She sounded very worried.

"Well, if you happen to stop by Intelligence, tell him that a certain *Chief Medical Officer* is not very pleased with his conduct. I do *not* like it when a patient under my watch LEAVES sickbay before *I* deem them ready for duty. He is luck that intelligence needs all the help they can get right now." Klaus kept an angry _expression for a moment, returning to the solemn one he had for most of the day.

He peered over at her distraught face. "Nevermind Saul, hows Branwen today?"

"Scared for him. We...we are exploring a relationship but there are some complications. And I am nervous about going down to the planet. This will be my first big counseling job, you know."

"You know...my first assignment was aboard the USS Patton. I was a general practioner, and depsite my time on Vulcan, I was still quite scared. Well, at first it was alright. I was a general practitioner, but once the Dominion War began, the Patton was involved in a few boarding operations....boarding operations I served on as a combat medic. I bet you would never have known that if I hadn't told you. Or did I already?....I don't remember. The moral of the story is, however, I had it worse. You'll be helping out alot, those people will be in alot of emotional distress. I'll heal the body, you heal the mind."

Bran managed a smile for him. "Thank you, Doc, I needed that. I bet you didn't think marines could get that nervous."

"I saw harder marines than any on this ship break down totally during my post-war rehabilitation. No man or Woman is a fortress unto his or her self."

"I know. You are a very wise man, Doc. I will do my best down there. And I hope Saul is going to be OK."

"If it means requesting...err....ordering that he be removed from duty, then yes. He will be ok." Klaus smiled sheepishly. "I've had this post for awhile..and I still can't seem to get it right on the administrative front...ha."

"Hire somebody to do it."Bran suggested.

"Well, I did have Tizarin assigned as my new ACMO. Besides it not so much that I can't handle administrative duties, it's that I still feel strange ordering people around."

"Ti is a good choice. She is a lovely woman and a great doctor. I am sure she will make your job easier."

"Agreed......" Klaus sighed...not sure where to go from here.

"I ensure you will be just as busy as I will be, Dr. So I will leave you to get organised now." She smiled again. "Thank you."

"In my line of work, a day I'm not busy, is a day I cherish. I'm sure you feel the same way too. Good Luck...You'll need it."

"Thank you." She said again. And then left.

"Chief Engineer's Personal Log"

Lt. Commander Brianna "Anna" O'Shea
Chief Engineer, USS Galaxy NCC-70367

::: Ten-Forward Lounge, Deck 10 :::

Sitting there quietly in the corner of the Ten-Forward lounge of the USS Galaxy thinking was newly promoted Brianna. Her thoughts were one of mixed feelings. The Irish woman had worked all her life to show her father and brothers she had exactly what it took to be a engineer. She had done it all, however, right now because of the events going on she didn’t feel as happy as she thought she would under different circumstances. Giving a sigh that fell on deaf ears, she lifted her cup and took a sip of the lukewarm raktijeno.

Lifting the data PADD to she spoke quietly. “Computer, began recording. Chief Engineer’s Log…” Brianna said, pausing to ponder how she wanted to began. “I’ve been told that life is quick. One minute you feel as if you aren’t going to be able to reach the next goal. The next you do. Snap, snap, snap… just like that. Present become history, history becomes forgotten or not treasured. Today I realized this about me. I rush around, answering the call of my career but what do I get when it’s over? Nothing but realizing that I’m probably a career officer who will one day look back upon her life and realize, how many times have I skipped the good things, to take one more goal.” She said, then paused.

“Today, I also realized that it has two meanings of which bring heavy weight. Goal, the terminal point of a race…. What or whom have I been racing? Questions number one. Goal, the end toward which effort is directed… what has my effort been for?” Anna asked, pursing her lips to the mug to take a sip.

“See, today I got the bad news. Starship, Akula has crashed landed in the Trill capital of Leran Manev. Thousands are dead, thousands more are missing or buried under rubble. Colleagues are dead, Edward was on the Akula. He told me I was going to make something of myself. God he was arrogant. Demanded only the best of me. To this day I think he took pleasure in making my life hell at Corps office.” Brianna stated, before continuing. “The day he told me he’d see die before allowing me to quit the academy. I wanted to hit him so bad. I wanted him to feel every vindictive wound he gave my spirit

Back then. Right now I’d give anything for him to walk in here and tell me to get over myself, get my ass up, and do something constructive.”

“I got confirmation that Edward was killed. Shouldn’t have happened to him. I find myself feeling guilty because I’d wished so much he’d died back then. Now…” she said, pausing. “now I’d wish for more time cause I know inside he saved me from myself. He took a girl, showed her how to be a lady… and a damn good engineer.” Brianna said, as she stood now and walked just half step over toward the window to look out. Galaxy was still on course for Trill.

“Jerel is on Trill as well. I’ve learned his new assignment was advising Lirisse Durghan, President of Trill. She couldn’t have found a better person, Jerel has a diplomatic nature and Aries was a very respected symbiot of the Trill people. I shouldn’t worry about him. Aries had a long life of surviving the odds. I pray to the winds and every god that’ll hear my pray that he’s alright. Good friends are hard to find. Not many any better then Jerel Aries.” Anna stated, turning now to her table.

Sitting back down she took a sip of her raktijeno and then paused, before continuing. “Two surprises though today are Rooster, Jebidiah Baile, is now stationed here on the Galaxy. I’m not sure to be happy about it or concerned. He has such a streak in him that just takes delight in teasing me, or making me play marine wannabe. God I hope he didn’t bring his holodeck programs. I’m not walking the bantam death march with him again while carry hundred pound pack.” She said, thinking about that for a moment. “Every time I’d slow down some he’d tell me about how God created woman from a rib of man, that I should have some strength in me.. Find it.” Brianna said, then smiled slightly. “Why is it men like to tease and poke fun at me? Starting to wonder if I’ve got something on my back that says, go ahead, kick her, it’s fun.” Anna said, then took another sip from her mug.

“Also, got a private message from Captain M’Kantu. I’ve been promoted to Lieutenant Commander. I wish I could feel happy about it, but with the events going on just doesn’t seem to feel happy about anything. There won’t be any sort of celebration marking promotions. I tend to agree that it is best. Right now instead of celebrating promotions or anything, just doesn’t seem right. Peckerwood and I will have our own little party at a later time. For now, I’m focusing on what needs to be done. In closing, I’m going to mark the deaths on Trill with a Irish proverb…” She said, pausing for a moment.

“For the test of the heart is trouble and it always comes with years. And the smile that is worth the praises of earth, Is the smile that shines through the tears.” Brianna said, then sighed. “Computer, end log and insert Stardate.” She said, standing up. Picking up the data padd she walked over to the bar to get something else to drink.

"Preparation & Surprise"

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineer
Ensign Saul Bental, Intelligence Officer
Emma Saturn & Mei, Engineering NPCs

LOCATION: Main Engineering

Nara, Emma, and Mei walked into the supply room carrying empty bags. Nara looked at the list again, "Mei, you can get the scanners. Emma, you can get the spare wires and data chips. I'll get the rest. If there's anything else you think we need that'll fit, get that too. Just in case."

Several minutes later their bags were full and Nara was running the check list. "Deep diagnostic scanner?" Nara looked at Mei, who looked back at her blankly.

"What?" Mei asked.

Nara sighed and shook her head, "I asked you to get the scanners."

Mei and Emma looked at each other and laughed. Nara looked confused. Emma finished zipping the bag and stood putting on her shoulder, "You told Mei you'd get that since it was next to something else you had picked up."

Nara looked down into her bag to find the item and also to hide her blushing. She sheepishly said, "Check." She could command, but sometimes she did these little bloopers. She swallowed and zipped and stood as well. "I guess we have everything.

Mei chuckled, "Plus a few other gadgets."

Emma chimed in, "Just in case."

Nara rolled her eyes. Emma mocked her. She smiled as she watched Mei zip her bag and stand. She said, "Better safe than sorry!" With that she turned and the three made their way out into the corridor toward the shuttlebay.

Suddenly, Nara's commbadge chirped. The voice that it relayed was one she didn't expect to hear.

=/\="Nara?"=/\=

Nara stopped dead in her tracks, almost causing Mei and Emma to run into her. "Saul?" He should be in sickbay. Miramon and Klaus were to let her know when he woke up.

=/\="Nara, is there any way you could get to the Intelligence CIC before we reach Trill?"=/\=

Nara thought a moment. He had no idea how she wanted to run down there right now. She remembered Mei and Emma behind her and felt the bag strap digging into her arm and the current situation. How did he somehow manage to cut into her commander mode and make her a sappy school girl? She sighed, "I can't. I've got to load up a runabout for the relief effort." She continued walking, leaving the signal open.

=/\="You're part of the relief mission?"=/\=

On the other side of the line, Saul had to begin improvising. Luckily, improvising was the one thing the Bentals excelled at.

"O'Shea just told me about 15 minutes ago."

=/\="Nara, please understand, it is crucial that you talk to me first. In person. You can't go down there before you talk to me."=/\=

Nara let out a short chuckle as they entered the turbolift. She spoke to the computer, "Shuttlebay." She then answered Saul, "Then you may just have to come to me Saul. Besides the fact that we've got an emergency on our hands, I've got to prove my reliability to my new superior. It wouldn't look good on me to take a break to go to the Intelligence CIC."

A second after she answered, the turbolift doors opened and the three women walked out to walk toward the shuttle bay. She spoke to Saul again, "I'm almost at the shuttlebay if you want to meet me there. We'll be there several minutes putting the equipment in place."

=/\="Do you think I'm playing a game??"=/\= Saul sounded almost agitated. =/\="I'll say it again. It is CRUCIAL that I speak with you IN PERSON before you go to the PLANET. You can guess how chaotic things are in the Intel CIC, and if I found time to tell you this then it must be something IMPORTANT, right?"=/\=

The women had walked into the shuttlebay as Saul asked his question. Nara saw George's bum sticking out the door of the runabout. It wasn't surprising he'd be there. He was afterall a shuttle engineer. Another reason to humor Saul. Yet, she didn’t want to seem like she was off chasing some guy during a major crisis. "If it's crucial I see you before I go down, it has something to do with the current situation?"

Nara knew a thing or two. She had a feeling it wasn't about the current situation on Trill, but she was giving Saul and herself a chance to dance around that fact.

=/\="I will tell you once I meet you."=/\=

Nara handed Mei her bag sighing. "I'm sure you guys can get this stuff organized. If you need help," Nara looked at George's bum and grimaced, "Well, there's Kastanza. If O'Shea comes looking for me, tell her Intelligence told me I needed to, well, know something before I left."

She turned and walked out before George could even realize she was there. She spoke to Saul, "I'm coming. This better be important Bental." She tapped the communication closed. She hoped this little hop to Intel wouldn't bite her in the bum.

"Arrival"

With Captain Daren M'Kantu and members of the bridge crew.
Also including: Ensign Zeke Wikkins and Leo Streely

Time: Hours after "Rogue."
Location: Bridge, USS GALAXY

When viewed from space, the planet Trill had an uncanny habit of taking one's breath away. Nearly all shades of the color purple were cast across the landscape with occasional highlights of brown and green, as though meticulously brushed there by some unknown craftsman with the sole purpose of hypnotizing travelers with it's beauty.

On this day, the crew of the fabled USS GALAXY stared at the angry plumes of black smoke that rose up into the atmosphere and spread like a harsh scar across the planets surface.

At the end of the smoke, lay the remains of what was once the art district majestic capital city of Leran Manev, where librarians, painters, and every manner of common man now worked feverishly to save the lives of their own people until help arrived.

That help just established orbit.

Over at the helm station. Lt. Savoie confirmed this fact in a crisp efficient tone that brought both Captain M'Kantu and Commander Henderson to their feet.

"All departments have reported ready in position at all transporter rooms. All shuttles are on standby as are the Vanguard Squadron. The Marines are also ready for deployment. OPs has made the nessicary power allotments for the upcoming tasks. Sickbay and Counseling are also ready to open not only fully functional triages planetside, but also are ready to accept patients aboard this ship." Commander Henderson said.

"We're ready to move, Captain."

M'Kantu nodded once and activated the com link on the armrest of the Captain's chair.

"ATTENTION ALL HANDS! THIS IS THE CAPTAIN SPEAKING. THE USS GALAXY HAS JUST ESTABLISHED ORBIT AROUND THE PLANET TRILL. YOU ARE ALL ABOUT TO BE CALLED TO THE NOBLEST OF STARFLEET DUTIES. BELOW US THERE ARE MEN WOMEN AND CHILDREN TRAPPED AND SUFFERING. WE ARE HERE TO SAVE AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE. BE MINDFUL OF YOUR SURROUNDINGS AND YOUR OWN SAFETY. KEEP YOUR HEADS CLEAR AND REMEMBER THAT YOU ARE THE FINEST TRAINED MEN AND WOMEN IN THIS MAN'S NAVY. YOU ARE ALL HEROES. AND I AM PROUD TO WEAR THE SAME UNIFORM AS YOU ALL. TRANSPORTERS AND ALL SQUADRANS....ENGAGE!"

The Captain stepped closer to the viewscreen and watched as shuttlecraft and fighters swarmed out of the belly of the great ship and broke into the atmosphere of the planet below.

"Allah be with you all." he whispered.

***** Meanwhile *****

"Did ya ever notice that Price never made the shipwide broadcasts. NEVER! Once Bhrode hit the deck plates, now that's all we hear. I think that chick Captain even wiggled the intercom once or twice." Leo Streely said tightening the chinstrap on his Starfleet Marine Corps helmet.

The massive Ensign Zeke Wikkins looked at the tiny man and blinked.

"Brother Streely, why does thy helmet say LOG upon its crown?"

"That's MAJOR LOG to you buddy! My pal Raven..where the hell did he vanish to, I donno...had a twin brother named Major Log. I happened to find this left behind in his quarters after he left the ship."

"I didn't know that the Marines were so careless about their equiptment."

"OK,OK,OK!!! I STOLE THE DAMN THING, OK? JEES!! YOU DON'T HAVE TO BREAK OUT THE RUBBER HOSES OVER HERE!!!" Leo erupted waving his hands in the air. "I JUST WANNA HELP THE CHICKS IF ITS OK WITH YOU!"

Wikkins paled.

"There are farm animals in need of rescue?!?!"

"Calm down, corn cob. I'm talking about women. There's a whole planet full of women who would be willing to throw themselves at my feet for rescuing them. All I gotta do is find the right ones and show em a little MAJOR LOG." Streely said with a wry grin.

Wikkins scratched his head.

"I thought thee said that Major Log has left the Galaxy?"

Leo's scream of frustration was drowned out by the whine of the transporter.

WARNING: Contains disturbing content. Read at your own discretion. -- MJ

"Phoenix, Part III"

T'Shani Akledorian

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

I'm frightened by what I see
But somehow I know,
that there’s much more to come

IImmobilized by my fear
And soon to be,
blinded by tears

I can stop the pain,
if I will it all away

If I will it all away...

== Stardate 48905.14 (16 years ago): Raath Mountains, Seltax VII ==

She had stopped screaming. Not because she wasn't still terrified or in pain; she was. She just didn't have any more strength left within her. Soon, the pain turned into numbness, then coldness. She was sure she was going to die. She closed her eyes...

*SWOOSH!*

Tavas removed himself from her, then threw her with all his might to the forest floor. She whimpered as pain shot up her left arm as she tried to brace her fall, instead falling onto her stomach, blood still oozing from the slice of Tavas's knife.

"That was quite enjoyable, bitch," Tavas spat at her as he zipped his pants back up. Sneering, he slowly walked toward her prone figure, unworried about her trying to mount any type of escape. His wicked grin only intensified as she began to weep, a low raspy sound as she tried to gulp in air. "Now..." He reached down - grabbing her left leg around the inner thigh - and flipped her onto her back, "I'm going to enjoy this. It's been awhile since I've dismembered one of your kind. I think I'll start with your disgusting head-stalks."

~Don't give up, Tinis al sharith Shani! You can still fight him!~

Her eyes widened, and her hearts began pumping faster. Who had spoken to her? Only her mother called her by her full name.

"L-Lim'as?" she called weakly. Was it really her Khiib-mother? But she had watched her die, along with her Thuub'a.

Tavas paused, wondering what she was babbling about. It didn't matter, he was going be done with it: General Tov had by now dispatched a search party.

~Fight! Fight T'Shani! Fight for the Honor of your ancestors! Fight for A'Akledor! Fight for what they have done here! Fight for your life!~

"Lim'as!" she wailed.

"Nothing can save you now, bitch," he sneered, lowering the knife to her scalp, just below her uninjured antenna. Furtively, he tried to grab the wildly-waving appendage to cut it off.

Just as he was about to do so, T'Shani strained her neck up, and clamped her teeth into his forearm as hard as she could. She was rewarded with the hot, cupric taste of Romulan blood.

"AAAAAGGGHHH!!" Tavas shouted angrily in pain, trying to wrench his now heavily-bleeding arm from the girl's sharp jaws.

"You fucking whore!" He screamed through clenched teeth. Dropping his knife, he pulled back his free arm, then punched her square in the eyes, causing her to release her hold on him.

The pain was almost enough to make her black-out, but she held on, a new determination of hatred and revenge supplemented her, fueled by whatever ethereal force that had come to her aid.

Tavas reeled back while clutching the bleeding flesh of his injured arm, murderous rage overflowing his body. He would make sure that her death was extremely painful and slow, he'd see how long he could keep her alive and in pain.

Instead of running, T'Shani gingerly attempted to stand, finding tentative footing from her aching legs.

~T'Shani look, there!~

She felt as if some unseen force literally grabbed her and spun her around, bringing into sight something she could definitely use: Tavas's knife!

Tavas followed her gaze, realizing what she was going to attempt. At nearly the same instant, both of them jumped at the knife...

"YOU...FUCKING...GREENBLOOD!!" she howled as drove the knife deep into his left thigh.

Tavas yelled out in excruciating pain, but more in anger. His injured leg collapsed beneath him, sending him toppling to the ground. He flailed, trying to grab ahold of T'Shani with one hand, while pulling the knife from his leg with the other.

~RUN, Tinis!~

Without questioning, she ran. At least, as fast as her injuries would allow. Her antenna perked, she could hear something up ahead. It sounded like...rushing water? The falls! She had seen them, during her escape the night before. She was trapped!

"Nowhere to run, you fucking cowardly cunt," Tavas yelled as he limped/ran toward her, blood freely flowing from his leg. He knew that it was a serious wound, but didn't care any longer.

She kept running, only to come to an abrupt halt at the edge of a rocky precipice overlooking a pool of water, a good thirty meters below her. She watched as a pebble she had knocked loose fell into the raging falls, disappearing into the water below. Slowly, she turned back, facing Tavas as he slowly stepped closer to her.

"You're the A'Akledorian girl, right?" he asked, brandishing his bloodied knife while inching closer.

She stood her ground, not answering him. She had watched her Thuub'a fight with his chaka, one thing he had taught her and her brothers and sisters was that when in a fight, to never give up ground unless it was tactically advantageous.

Tavas continued: "Ha! I thought so! I had the pleasure of disposing of your mother. I've never heard someone beg and scream in such a cowardly manner!"

Anger filled T'Shani, knowing what this evil creature had done to her Lim. But she realized that he was baiting her; trying to get her to attack him so that he could finish her off with his knife.

He laughed as the emotions played across her bruised face, delighted in the torment he was inflicting upon her. "Yes. It was too bad that General Tov had already cut out her innards by the time I got to interrogate her. I would have enjoyed fucking her, just like I did you, you filthy bitch."

"Lim'a! NO!" she screamed as she rushed him.

Tavas held his knife steady, waiting to strike as she quickly closed the distance. Pulling back, he...

T'Shani ducked his swing, dug her fingers into his thigh wound, then pulled out with all her might, ripping skin and muscle from his bones, emancipating a primordial scream of pain and fear from the loathesome Romulan, before ducking between his legs.

Before Tavas could turn, she was on his back, reaching around and clawing at his face, gouging his eyes. He swung wildly behind him, trying to dislodge her, all the while stumbling closer to the edge of the cliff.

T'Shani dropped to the ground, while grabbing Tavas's knife arm. Remembering a move that her Thuub'a had taught her, she grabbed his wrist and pulled on it with one hand, while pushing just below the elbow the other.

*SNAP! CRUNCH!*

Tavas screamed as the sickening sound reverberated across the falls. He dropped the knife.

T'Shani quickly picked it up, flipped onto her feet, and drove the knife deep into his side, right where she had been taught that a Romulan's heart was.

Tavas's face froze in mid-pain and shock. With one final gasp, he pushed himself on her, his wicked smile facing her as they both fell headlong over the cliff...

== Stardate 50502.25 (The present): Undisclosed Location ==

Doctor Kleiner looked up to the theater where Daniels and Gary were standing. ["I've stabalized the patient, but the engrams cannot be extracted; they're too deeply imbedded. I can try a Vortarian Supression routine instead."]

Gary pressed a buttton on the console in front of him, opening the commlink to the operation floor, below. "Very well, Doctor. But make sure the neuroprobe remains well-hidden."

Nodding once, the Doctor and his team turned back to tending to the unconcious form on the operating table. Gary switched off the commlink, then turned to face Daniels.

"She'll still have the memories, but we can supress them."

"Is that wise?"

Gary paused for a second, considering the implications. "It is better than risking irreversible damage to her higher brain functions. Luckily, an Andorian brain is more...compartmentalized; easier to block certain memories in her sub-core."

"What if they resurface?"

"Then we'll simply recompartment them. Believe me, Mister Daniels, there's plenty of unused space in any corporeal brain to play hide-and-seek with." He frowned then added, "With the exception of a Melkotian, of course. Beside, it is not always wise to erase - or even hide - critical charachterizing memories and experiences. Rather, we only adjust them, so that some are less dominant than others. Makes them easier to handle, and helps cover our tracks."

Finished with his lecture, Gary clasped his hands behind his back, while staring down at the subject, below. He hated the way this all sounded, but it was for the good of the many, not this one. That's the way it had always been. Still, there were times when he wished Isis or Roberta were still alive. But he wondered if even they would have understood the Aegis' decision to ally themselves with Daniel's special operation. But the choice, well...it hadn't been his.

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

Lyrics from "Whisper"
Composed by Amy Lee and Ben Moody
Performed by Evanescence
From the album "Fallen"
Published by Wind-Up Records, (c) 2003

"Facing the Possibility"

by Ensign Tizarin Lias;
Asst. Chief Medical Officer, USS Galaxy

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

Tizarin's sea-blue eyes were as big as saucers as she stared at the images on her monitor. She had access to them as preparation for her mission- search, rescue, and medical aid on the surface of her own home planet. And now she stood, frozen. Transfixed by those images.

It was Trill.

Torn to rubble by what was, by all appearances, a fluke accident.

But, more importantly, it was home. Not just the planet, but the region in question. It was her home. Where she had grown up.

As she stood staring, her eyes, unblinking, one hand went to her mouth.

"Oh... my god." she whispered to herself.

And she moved one hand to the controls, to switch off the monitor. She had to put those images out of her mind. In a few moments she would be on that planet, in that area, dealing with emergencies where strangers needed her skills to stay alive. If she let herself obesess over what was now running through her mind, she would never be able to work, to concentrate, or to get her job done.

Her parents.

They lived in that region. Or, at least they did when she had left for her assignment on the Galaxy.

She tried to concentrate on packing her gear, but she couldn't think. She inhaled, deeply, and exhaled just as hard. Madison. She needed her, right now, to hold her and tell her it was going to be all right. To tell her her parents were all right. That they were safe, and sound. The sudden realization hit Tizarin, harder than a photon torpedo. Her parents might well be dead. Her brothers. She had already lost one brother- Jigo- in an attack on a freighter not unlike the one she had been working on in her last mission aboard the Galaxy.

Now, she had to face not only the devastation of her own homeworld, but the personal agony of the potential loss of life of those closest to her.

"Computer.... access personal residence and address records for all major city regions effected by the crash." Tizarin spoke to the ship's everhelpful computer. "Locate any residence for the family name 'Diol'."

She held her breath, as she waited for the answer.

"Working..."

Why did the computer always have to say that ? She knew it was working. Why did it have to tell her, taking, as Tizarin rationalized, valuable time that could spent telling her whether or not any of her family lived within the disaster area she had seen on the monitor.

"Personal residential address information is not available at this time." the computer replied, after what seemed like forever.

And Tizarin finally released her breath. "I had to ask." she said to no one in particular.

The process of clearing her mind did not go as swiftly as she had hoped. She packed her equipment, and she probably overpacked some. And then she slung her heavy bag over her shoulder, as she pushed herself through the throng of humanity that had crowded into the Galaxy's medical bay. Some of the people there were doctors. Some were people who had other jobs they had to co-odinate with sickbay. Some were people who, like Tizarin, had loved ones on the surface and were desperately searching for news.

But most were, like she, doctors, or nurses, or some type of medical personnel in a hurry to get their job done.

Tizairn, as a Trill, had been assigned to the surface to participate in search and rescue efforts. Her medical skills coupled with a personal knowledge of Trill physiology would make her a valuable asset on the ground... if she could keep her thoughts clear.

Whatever happened down there, she would find her family, or news of them.

She promised this to herself as she passed out of the sickbay's doors, hefting her bag a little higher to balance it's weight.

"The Briefing"

Lieutenant J.G. Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer
Ensign Saul Bental, Intelligence Officer
Ensign Paulo DiMillo, Intelligence Officer

Paulo walked into the briefing center. He was the first one there, which was perfect as he needed to get some things sorted out first. He had finally gotten the reports he had been waiting for. It was one of the newer Prometheus-Class starships. It looked like the separation sequence had been started as it entered the atmosphere to maximize the destruction on the planet surface. Whoever had done this had been able to get past hundreds of security procedures. This was scary as the people who were behind this knew Starfleet inside and out, and could make it so Starfleet could lose track of one of its prize ships. Something about this just wasn't right.

Soon, the high pitched voice of Nyoko Yuuri boomed into the briefing chamber, closely followed by another voice Paulo was all too familiar with - that of Saul Bental. The young Ensign, escorted by the two other members of the secondary Intelligence unit, strode into the chamber.

"... enemy sabotage." Saul concluded. He looked slightly faint, and his skin had this amusing shade of... blue? No, it must've been Paulo's imagination.

"We are still collecting initial data." Said the Vulcan Informatician, Seren. He was holding no less than five PADDs in his arms. "As I said before, it would be illogical to make assumptions before we have a more complete perspective."

"Yes, and I'm not disqualifying the possibility of the incident being the product of an accident, or human error... no pun intended. But keep in mind that some possibilities call for immediate reactions. We have to give an assessment soon, or there will be no time to react. That is why-" Saul stopped dead on his track when he realized Paulo was in the room.

"Have you heard anything new?" He asked. It seemed to be the question everyone were asking since the news flash.

Paulo scorned him, "as I remember, I don't report to you. We are the same rank and position, even if you have a two man posy under you. You can wait till the briefing starts like everyone else. That is what the briefing is for after all, to make sure everyone is on the same page. So if you don't mind, be quite. I am still going over the most recent reports that I got just a few minutes ago." Paulo then turned away from the other ensign and started reading the reports again.

"I didn't ask you to report to me, just wanted... argh." Saul frowned, and sat down in one of the chairs of the briefing room. He had no time for these control games, and neither did any of them. Wasn't it natural, in the face of a disaster, to try and learn as many details as possible?

Several other Intelligence officers and non-comms entered the room, and a couple of them joined the Secondary Intel. unit trio. Pretty soon, they returned to discussing the possible causes behind the tragedy, each officer bringing his insight on the events. Saul glared at the door from time to time, waiting anxiously to Cora's arrival and hoping not to see men in blue collars coming to get him.

Paulo ignored the rest of the people as they entered. Most trying to keep their distance from him. Paulo really didn't mind. He didn't respect most of the Intel officers on the ship anyway. A few minutes past before Cora finally appeared.

Cora entered the main portion of Galaxy's Intelligence Center. It was clear she'd been at work for sometime already. Various pieces of data started to fill the large screens in the room while the smaller ones remained dedicated to new feeds. Dobryin was in no mood for disagreements or other rifts between her staff. "You've seen the end result now lets work the problem. The first screen shows a feed of erroneous data I was alerted to several hours ago. The rest is self-explanatory. We need to find out if there are indeed any correlations or if they are totally separate. Besides answering the universal question of who's responsible and why."

Paulo sat there looking over the information. "What worries me more is not who, but how. How they got their hands on a Prometheus-Class starship. One of the newer ships in the fleet goes missing without any reports from anyone, and then it suddenly appears crashing into Trill. I got a report before just coming here that the ship was empty of crew. Not one crew member that was stationed aboard the Akula has been found. Some of suggested that they may have literally incinerated on impact, but this doesn't seem probable as they have found a few Trill near the impact sites." Paulo stopped talking letting that think in.

"Aren't there any sensor logs of the ship prior to its descent into orbit? Prometheus ships don't often fly themselves." Inquired Saul Bental.

"Trill authorities have yet to find a black box, so we have nothing yet," Paulo replied. "Even if they do find one there is a chance that it has been wiped. Before you ask, they are designed so that only Starfleet can get in, read, and everything else, but what we have seen is that whoever has done this knows us as well as we do, maybe even better. This could result in them getting accuses to the black box and wipe it."

Saul nodded. Next to him, Nyoko Yuuri frowned. "I don't suppose any of the other ships scanned the Akula? Perhaps one of the planetary sensor grids did? Perhaps a random life-signs reading could tell us if there was anyone on board that shouldn't have been there..."

"Trill has yet to release that data. They say we will be getting it within the next hour.", said Cora.

"Is there any chance that this was an accident, or a pilot's error?" Saul continued. He was still not fully up-to-date, but as far as he could see, everyone were rushing to determine who was the enemy behind the catastrophe. "I mean, if no organization or enemy government took responsibility or made any declaration about this attack, is there any possibility that this sad event isn't an attack at all?"

"Current data doesn't show this to be an accident of any kind, and no one has taken responsibility as of yet, but it's still early," Paulo replied as he stood up to look at the data streaming into the room.

"Black box is our top priority along with getting the missing data we need. Even if that means we go down to the surface in person and get it ourselves, I want to know everything.", said Cora. She didn't like the implications of any of this. "If this isn't an attack then what is it? Until we have solid proof otherwise we treat this like an attack."

"Aye sir.".

"I bet the local defense force or Starfleet Intelligence's station on Trill will get their hands on the black box... I will drop by the central S.F.I station on the planet once we reach it.", said Saul.

"Also I was looking over the data. The part that is bothering me is that the destruction doesn't match a 2100000 metric ton ship. In fact it would almost seem as if the ship was hollow inside, with..." Paulo trailed off as a new stream of data ran in.

Nyoko took advantage of the pause to whisper into Saul's ear. "Remember that I told you that?"

Paulo's ears caught the whisper, and he just nodded

Saul also shook his head. "There's also evidence that the ship's sections separated before impact." He added. "If that was the case, then larger portions of the city would've been wiped out."

"They more than likely separated before impact at least that's the primary working theory at this time. I want that confirmed for sure," Cora replied.

"We are working on that right now," said Paulo, "Trill defense grid reports no life signs on the ship as it started entry. That doesn't make any sense.... where is the crew?"

"I've checked with Tactical and they said that while the Prometheus is highly automated, it is almost impossible to fly without skeleton crew." Saul stated. "This leaves the option of remote control, or non-organic sentient being taking control of the vessel... although the latter would be quite a far-fetched thesis."

Cora listened carefully to everything her people had to say. "Yeah I don't Subscribe to the theory that some non-organic being did this. The first or second option seems more reasonable on several fronts."

Bental nodded with agreement.

"Also, why would a newer ship be set to be decommissioned in 6 months? Something is not right with this at all," Paulo said as he sat back down to look over the data he had.

Saul whispered in Nyoko's ear. "Do we have an answer for that yet?"

The Japanese ensign gave him a tortured look. "We're STILL working on it..."

"I want to know those answers but this isn't a contest people. All of us work together as a team on this one. The Captain is going to want an update on this one. As soon as we arrive at Trill we're going to be busy. Leave no stone unturned." Cora hoped they could get the real answer behind this tragedy.

Saul raised his arm. "Cora, with your permission I would like to go to the central SFI station and get the data both from the black box and the planetary sensors grids... and anything else they may have to offer us."

"First - Have you been cleared by medical? Second, I'm headed that way anyway but you're more than welcome to join me if you've been cleared by medical." Cora had other reasons to visit the central SFI station beyond just the data they needed.

Saul rolled his eyes. He was hoping that his little escape was going smoothly, but apparently the chief somehow found out that he wasn't given a clean bill of health.

"I'll make sure I have their authorization before going downstairs, and I will take your offer."

At that the meeting was adjourned and everyone got up and left heading to their prospective areas.

"Meet Me On Trill"

By Lieutenant Commander James Lionel Corgan
Chief of Security, USS Galaxy-A

Location: Crew Quarters

It was one of those missions where, despite the loads of action, James Corgan was left to suck space vacuum.

He let his deputies take care of the plum assignments, leaving James with not much else to do.

And it also suited James just fine.

In his current mindset, he wasn't in the mood for a life endangering mission into the unknown. He already endangered one person with his thoughts alone, giving a psychically sensitive Vulcan a traumatic memory. Then there was still his last relationship, where not only was he heavily censured by Starfleet, he had to not so lightly tell his ex-girlfriend it was over (Ever tell a Tal'Shiar it's over? One has to guess when the next assassination attempt will come…).

To pass the time, James watched memories like a 20th century television watcher flipping the channels on a TV. Other memories floated by. Battles of the past. Family memories. James caught the whole fascinating spectrum of the human experience in flashes and reels.

So laying in his room, listening to his music, he found this mission to be entertaining.

The only factor that cut into this mission's enjoyment was the constant calls. He already received calls from Tekri and Rose. Branwen already tried to hit on the security chief with not much success, and would get none considering James mood on women at the time.

That didn't stop other people from calling James. He was in the middle of a memory involving the location of Petty Officer Widdlestein's moonshine still, when all the sudden the memories cut out. He allowed himself to dose off afterwards, and it wasn't until a few hours later that he woke up to his LCARS screen demanding his attention.

"Aye…" James groaned, feeling much like a bear roused out of hibernation, "If it is one more person trying to make my life a living hell I'm going to…"

James finger already activated the screen.

And the odds of that person making his life a living hell, very much the same prerequisite for his yet unfinished vow of bloody vengeance on the universe, skyrocketed.

"Hello James." Said the soft spoken voice from the screen.

A threat to destroy the universe seemed very inadequate at the moment. What James was staring back at, in all her cherubic glory, set his neck hairs up on end. She was blue, petite, alertful, and ever so cute for an adult. Her every action drifted like a gentle wind; her antennae swaying like Nile reeds. Earthy brown, doelike eyes focused casually, if not forcefully, from their demure hiding place among a exquisite face bearing the tarp of light turquoise skin.

This was Mika Sh'Sonora, once feared as an up and coming diplomat with an ambition as thirsty as a Vulcan cacti, who offset such aggressive tendancies with a practiced, graceful mannerism that eased the most rattled and excitable minds. Humble in all but her goals, Mika was known for being quite a charmer.

She also had a backhand that loosened James' molars during their last run in. At that time they were on Earth, and Mika suffered a fall from grace by working in a pizza shop; the furthest thing from a negotiating table.

The cheek Mika struck stung as a subtle reminder of what Mika was really capable of if you offended her. In this case, James was stupid enough to have a relationship with Atole Tekri while showing interest in the lovelorn Andorian. Though James didn't try to cheat, he never closed the door on such an opportunity either. And since Mika always had the knack of showing up when James was in the middle of a relationship (though damn the poor souls, they really did want each other), trouble always brewed, and their last encounter ended in a serious confrontation.

So what brought Mika back, and in a pleasant mood, while James bristled in fear for what was to come next? Was she truly placated? James had to find out. What he did surmise was that Mika had a strap over the shoulder of her plain civilian clothes. Still getting over the shock of seeing her in a pizza chef's uniform when he was used to watching her shuffle across floors in Andorian Kimono's, he thought it odd to see Mika prepared to travel.

"Mika? My god, it's been awhile." James blushed. ~"And it looks like you don't want to kill me."~

"Too long, James." Mika softly spoke, "I missed you." ~"Oh god no. She's not through with kicking my ass. I can't fight her!"~ James shivered. Mika, aside from being a good diplomat, was also well trained in Andorian martial arts. The memory of seeing a Klingon's arm bent up like a macabre accordion didn't help matters either. James shook his head to chase away the image. ~"Oh for f**k sakes. Be a man and just talk to her. I like her, dammit! Maybe I can set things right here."~

"Ummm… likewise Mika." James spouted awkwardly. "But the last time we meet… you hit me."

Bowing her head down (antennae included, in a downcast angle), Mika replied, "I am sorry. I lashed out when I had no right. I was angry at the time, and for other reasons besides you. Having you arrive… seeing me in that uniform when you must have been used to seeing me in such finery, and that Romulan…" "Old news, Mika." James shook his head, "I should be apologizing. I should have told you Tekri and I was in a relationship when we meet on Gryphon. I shouldn't have raised your hopes up like that. It was rotten of me to do so. I'm sorry."

James apology perked Mika's spirits. He wanted to tell the Andorian woman exactly that, for many months after Gryphon. It was a liberating feeling, to have the weight of such guilt slough off, though not completely remiss.

There was still one issue.

One he couldn't even get himself to say.

~"Damned thing is, I'm one scummy bastard for having a crush on you since we meet on Lan'jep. I also harboured this crush while I was in two separate relationships. And you know what? I've barely begun to understand it."~ James imagined himself saying, setting aside all doubts as to how he felt about the woman facing him on the screen. Of course, that was what Corgan imagined himself saying.

What he did actually was less eloquent. "I'm a man. Therefore it is my fault. Forgive me?"

"James!" Mika's shocked expression was broken up by sporatic bursts of mirth. She was undecided between anger and hilarity, so her emotions showed up as a bizarre mix. "James!" She squealed/protested between crackling chokes/giggles, "You can't just say… oh my… 'i'm a man, I can't tell you how I feel, forgive me anyways'…" By this time, her antennae were criss crossing.

James saw his opening, and enticingly said, "You know… you could teach me a lesson any time you wanted to. Go ahead. I'll turn the other cheek."

Mika squealed a laughing protest, but her angered side was gaining ground, turning her into a more stern, ardent speaker. "James… I'm not going to smack you again! Hah hah… James… seriously. Tell me… come on… tell me. Tell me."

James didn't back down once Mika found her backbone. "So, it isn't about apologizing about the pizza parlour."

She looked down guiltily at her keypad, as a rushing whoosh passed behind her. Wind kicked up around her, whipping her short, snow white hair and rippling her earth toned street clothing. "I did want an apology from you, James, but I too sought penance for my conduct. The truth is… I wanted to talk to you for the longest time James. I could not do so with unresolved issues between ourselves. So yes, it is more than just my apology. I also wanted yours." "Done, but that's not all, isn't it." James deducted, "I really was an idiot. I should have known you had… feelings for me. I suspected, but it was always at a bad time." "Poor timing that are neither of our faults." Mika agreed, "However, you could have told me. I would have stepped aside for your sake." James added, "That's the problem. You would have… stepped aside."

It took a moment for that line to sink in, but once Mika realized its true meaning, her antennae perked up. "Oh… so you… oh… that was it?!" She playfully smacked the computer screen.

"Huh?" James grumbled.

But Mika kept speaking, this time more in amusement than anything else, "James, are you telling me that you had feelings for me as well? What about them?"

"I…I…" James stumbled upon words, but couldn't put them together into a coherent sentence. Mika had James trapped, cornered to say the words he himself was too ashamed to speak.

Mika, however, was too happy to oblige. "No wonder! Monogamous species! You are so bound by your cultural norms that you could not admit you had feeling for two women at the same time!"

The truth did incisor itself into his heart, but once the initial shock wore off, the admittance wasn't so bad. "Ummm… sorry?"

"I thought you did not care about me, James Corgan. I thought you would rather keep company with a Romulan matahari exclusively over me. James, we Andorians are a polygamous species, but even we are hurt when scorned or rejected. I thought you rejected my advances. How I wish you admitted how you felt about me." "Mika." James meekly piped up, "I… I do have feelings for you. But this is a bit too much to handle right now. I'm fresh off a relationship with Tekri, and my career is as good as dead. Not only that, I'm was certified as clinically insane at one point. The only reason I was allowed in Starfleet in the first place was because we were in the middle of a war and Starfleet couldn't afford to be picky. I have nightmares at night about the Borg. I'm really afraid of your martial arts, and I think Tekri has a hit out on me and she'll most likely have one out on you. Are you sure you want to try a relationship with me?"

Mika shrugged, confident and proud, "I do not see why not. You are making excuses. I know you want to. Don't you?"

" Well… yes. Badly… but usually my people wait awhile between relationships." "As you humans are fond of saying, dear James, wake up! It has already been many months. What are you waiting for?"

Mika's invitation seemed harmless enough. The more James examined it, the more he found himself acting the part of the simpering, indecisive moron. How he hated seeing himself without a backbone, unsure weather his morals or his conduct will hold up to something as life changing as a… girlfriend. What excuses could he make? ~"I've had a crush on Madam Sh'Sonora since I meet her on Lan'Jep."~ The decision was not easy… but then again his excuses could not withstand her brutal logic either.

~"I still sting from having to let Tekri go. My career is in a shambles. She's virtually offering me a free lunch and I can't decide on what to do. GOD SAKES YOU F**KING PUSSY! Do something!"~

~"I've had a crush on her at Gryphon. I even loved her, angry, in that pizza uniform. You take so long to start anything intimate, not realizing that you miss so many opportunities. She just poured her heart out to you. Do the same! DO IT! She's giving you permission."~ James almost opened his mouth, but swallowed the words. ~"It's way too soon to say I love her!"~

His conscience retorted, ~"You have a start! Go for it!"~

Finally, James spoke. "You got me, Meeks. I want to be with you. To hell with everyone else."

Mika smiled, "Alright!" She shifted the strap held diagonally across her chest, its shiftings revealing a stuffed duffel bag. "I have to tell you. I try to be nice, but my people have a tendancy to be… forceful."

"No kidding." James said with amused sarcasm.

"And sometimes, we act like brutish warriors." "You could have fooled me." "Not if you saw me in a fight with your ex girlfriend. James, I saw Tekri on Earth… and we had a fight. The fight became physical." Mika confessed, her brown eyes turning watery as her antennae drooped.

James asked, "Who won?"

A mischievous glint resurrected her mood. "I won, dear James! We used fists and grapped. We tumbled over a serving table. She threw pizza on my face and in my hair. There was pizza everywhere, all over us. Such a mess! I tore her new uniform after she ripped the buttons off my blouse. Can you imagine that?"

"Ummm…" James was imagining just that, and in vivid detail, though some were not included. What James was trying to work out was the undergarments. Tekri wore basic black and white, unless she was trying to seduce James (in that case, lace was preferred). But Mika? He imagined that she wore a more conservative design, but with flowers or pastel colours to match her exotic blue skin. ~"Hardly appropriate!"~ He stopped himself as his mind conjured up an image of a pizza sopped Mika in a striped, patterned bra. ~"She wants you to respond."~ James nodded animatedly, "Oh yeah. Must have been something."

"Silly James, it was 'something'." She flirtatiously dragged out the last word, "And I'll tell you more. Since I was fired from such menial labour, I was given the opportunity to search for more meaningful employment, and I have… found it!"

"Oh? What is it? Did you get your job back?" James asked.

"Hmph." Mika grunted in disdain. "The Federation Diplomatic Corp? They do not want me in their service. Why should I want them in my life anymore? The diplomatic corp used me as a scapegoat, James. I am not coming back."

James pressed, "Then what is with the duffel bag? Where are you going?" "James, meet me on Trill! I will tell you everything. It is so exciting that I can barely keep quiet. But it is more appropriate to save such news for later. I feel you have enough to think about for one day. When we meet on Trill, we shall discuss my future some more. I think… you will be pleasantly surprised."

It was always like Mika to be mysterious. How did she strike that and still be honest? James could not figure it out. "Mika, I can't wait. Tell me everything when we get there." "Yes James, I will. I will be in the capitol. See you there." Mika's smile radiated like sunshine, her face cast in a warmth that was casual and comfortable. She said, "I have to go. Do not forget what you told me. Goodbye! See you soon!"

As her face winked out of existence, Corgan removed his finger from the deactivate button.

"See you there, Meeks."

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

Mika deactivated the public access LCARS terminal, walking away with lighter spirits. Her steps had more spring and dance as she walked along the café district of the Trill capitol, her duffel back no longer a burden as she basked in Trill's spring sun. The warmth of an alien star on an Andorian bred in a cold climate (such was her homeworld) didn't bother her the slightest. She was used to alien planets. And not only that, her mood was cheered by a meeting with James Corgan, which went better than she could have anticipated.

~"He loves me, and he's to proud to admit it! One more week and he just might!"~ Mika squealed at the thought, pirouetting to avoid a bicycle on the sidewalk. ~"Wait until I tell him. Wait until he knows. He will be shocked at first, as would I if I were he, but he will love the result. I should have told him. Oh… such news! How I should have told him."~

She stopped to gaze at the spring trill sky, a blue as crisp as her skin. "Up there is my beau, and he is coming to me. He loves me!"

The sky shined with two shooting stars in the sky. Mika paused in her adoration to look up at the sky and watch the two twinkling objects, quickly turning blood red. ~"A sign of things to come? Since when did shooting stars appear during the day."~ Mika pondered, squinting for a better view. The shining, blood red stars grew larger. Then, they were no longer red, but growing gray twin masses streaking towards the city.

"Oh my…" Before she could finish, the stars were large, silver spheres jetting across the sky, kicking up a wind as mighty as a god's tempest. She buckled as the objects flew ahead, then was flung herself as a 'krackaboom' drown out all sound.

What she felt next was the light shower of debris against her skin and clothes, then a thunderclap as a ground was smote.

Everything else in her world turned into tremors, wind and fire.

"sometimes it's hard to become a hero"

by Turan Trelar,
Quentite student, boy scout, ambassador and wannabe hero

To become a hero sometime seems to be harder as it looks. The minute the captain's announcement came over the Galaxy's intercom, Turan jumped off his bed and tried to report in at his former department - engineering.

Obviously all vacant engineering hero jobs were already filled with volunteers so he was sent to med bay.

Med bay was indeed in need of additional heroes. No need to mention these heroes were expected to be well informed about Trill metabolism or at least have a medical background. So he was sent to the damage control team - the Galaxy's fire fighters.

Meanwhile, Turan became a little bit upset. This time he wouldn't let them send him anywhere else. Even if he had to beat the hell out of of them or threat them with a phaser or ... use his rights as an ambassador.

The door to the damage control team's ready room swished open. Carefully avoiding the door frame, the Quentite giant entered the room and searched for the highest ranking officer, the one in charge.

None of the officers who were busy changing from their standard uniforms to a kind of special gear or caring for their equipment seemed to take notice of him. Turan walked over to a red haired Terran lieutenant who he thought could be the one in charge, cleared his throat and with a Quentinarish accent that sounded much like mixture of Indian and Spanish declared.

"Turan Trelar reporting in to take part in the rescue mission. I'm educated and trained in disaster control management, search and rescue and hmm ... let's say pioneer work."

"bad news"

by Turan Trelar,
Quentite student, boy scout and ambassador

Turan sat at his quarter's desk. From the time he returned from his first away mission about a month ago so many things had changed. His name was removed from engineering duty rooster which was filled up with fresh names - fresh engineers which arrived with the spare parts. In fact even the console he repaired during and after the Breen incident had been replaced by shiny new ones. Even the saucer section had changed. 10-4, the arboretum, even the Jeffries tubes - anything differed from his memories.

Did you ever explore a cavern? There are domes and tunnel. Occasionally, tunnels are joined by junctions or lead into a dome. You can be sure a tunnel that yesterday lead into dome will lead there today, too. And so it will tomorrow and ...

When Turan tried to use the Jeffries tube shortcut he often used before to visit 10-4, the unauthorized journey almost cost his life. He slipped down a tube straightly leading to the main waste disposal and recycling unit. The unit's life detection sensors kept him from being transformed into pure energy what actually would have been the premature end of his life cycle.

First, Turan thought he probably went nuts by a kind of space sickness. Then he learned he was transfered to a different 'cavern' that -to a certain degree- looked like the old one. When he almost had settled into his new old position of an unwanted alien ambassador kept out of the ships daily routine, life hit him hard again. This time, he really seemed to go nuts.

Any female crew member he met suddenly appeared totally naked. He felt sensations, he never felt before, making him think of copulation and reproduction. Maybe, this was a side effect of becoming an adult. But hey, these females weren't even Quentites. It felt as if he was looking through an other ones eyes - through the eyes of somebody who was able to blur his mind by drinking a stuff called whiskey which seemed to consist of nothing else than water, ethanol and flavor in a rather low concentration.

Turan decided to stay in his quarters and advance his studies. That was about a month ago. Still, there was no reason to leave his 'fortress' - at least until the yellow alert sign near the doors button went on and the captain's voice announced via comm:

"M'Kantu to all hands ... The Galaxy is responding to a disaster on the Trill homeworld at best possible speed. All that is known at the moment is that a Federation starship, reported to be the USS Akula, has crashed on the surface of the planet in a densely populated area. Once we arrive, disaster operations will commence immediately. This is... this is one of the reasons that we exist, that Starfleet exists: to provide hope and assistance in the face of overwhelming disaster. I believe in you, but more importantly, the people of the Federation, and especially the people of Trill, believe in you - and with the power of that belief behind you, each and every one of you can work miracles. In a few short hours, you will be called on to deliver those miracles and you will, even if you don't think you can... because the power of that belief behind you, and inside you, will sustain you and give you the strength to reach beyond yourself and be the heroes that the people of Trill need."

"Trust Me - Or Die!"

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineer
Ensign Saul Bental, Intelligence

LOCATION: Intelligence CIC

The Intelligence CIC was in turmoil. Usually, when a visitor arrived, someone immediately came to the door and prevented him from entering without proper escort or clearance, and after making sure all classified information was out of sight. Instead, all the black-collared people seemed to be too busy or anxious to care. Some of them were gathered around one display or the other, arguing audibly or watching the images in horrified silence. Others were pacing frantically across the central hall, and at least one NCO was standing in the middle of the room, apparently at loss of what to do.

"Naranda."

In the corner of her eye, she could see Saul approaching. She turned wanting to hug him, but refrained. She was also worried what the big deal was that would likely get her some lecture from O'Shea.

He took her by the hand, and led her to an office just next to the entrance door. Unknown to her, it was the same meetings hall in which he spoke with Kastanza and Miramon about her. Saul locked the door behind them, and then pulled out a small device from his uniform's pocket and placed it on the table.

Only then, the Intelligence officer inhaled deeply, and turned to face her.

Nara looked at him, getting more and more concerned and confused. Deep down she hoped it was some declaration of love, but she kinda knew better. Yet he was acting awfully strange; stranger than usual. "Saul, you're being weird again. What's got you all bothered? Whatever it is, I hope O'Shea..."

"Listen to me and listen carefully." Saul interjected. The sly grin which seemed to be persistent on his face vanished without a trace. "I'm going to give you two options right now, and you'll have to decide before we proceed."

The Intelligence officer narrowed his eyes. Nara never saw him so serious. "One, I'm going to tell you something that will save your life, but once I give you the information you MUST do anything I ask you to do, until you're safe, even if it does not make sense. Two, you don't agree to my terms, I apologize for wasting your time, and you walk out of that door with slim chances of seeing another dawn."

He finally left her hand, but his eyes were still gazing into hers intensely. "What is your decision?"

Nara stood a moment letting it sink in. She looked at him. "You're asking me to trust you or I'll die? You're asking me to make this decision NOW?" The arrogance creeped up and she wanted to say something about being able to take care of herself and walk out the door. Yet, the words of the old man in the prison with her haunted her.

She looked down and sighed, "You said I could trust you as a fellow Starfleet officer. Honestly though Saul, I don't know what's scarier. Trusting you or dying." She stepped closer, looking at him again realizing how that would sound, "I'm sorry. You just piled a huge decision on me."

"I know. And I still stand behind my words."

She sighed and sat down, "Then I guess I don't have a choice then do I? Well you better tell me before my arrogance rears it's ugly head."

"Very well." Saul remained standing. "Someone wants you dead. Probably someone related to Sakaria. We... I... know of one assassin that waits for you on Trill. I've known it since we left the Starbase." he added, as though it could be an excuse for all that has happened since.

Nara slumped. She looked up, "Even after what just happened?!" Then another thought occurred and she stood as her eyes widened, "Is that why the ship crashed!"

"No, of course not!" Saul was slightly taken aback by that theory. "Look outside when we exit, Nara. No one, including me, has any idea why the ship crashed. If anything, it makes things more complicated. "

She flushed a bit. "Of course. Do we have any idea who it is?"

"The assassin? Yes. The man behind him? No. We could apprehend the assassin, but in that case they'll only dispatch another one. What we want to do is to find out who wants you dead. Our guess is that once you die, whoever wanted you dead will proceed with his or her plan, and thus expose himself."

The Intelligence officer glanced at the device he placed on the table. "The best solution we can think of is to fake your death and find out who is behind it. As I said, unless we expose the person who wants to eliminate you, there will be no way to assure your safety. Also, there's a great risk that if we try to fend off the assassins instead of making them think that they succeeded, the means through which we gained this information will be... severed. That's why I asked you to make a decision."

Nara looked over at what Saul glanced at suddenly wondering what it was.

"What's that?"

"That's something that will ensure our ears are the only ones listening to this conversation." It also sent a brainwave pattern making Saul's emotions less clear to any nearby telepath, but that was besides the point...

She looked at the PADD in her hand. It was the list of supplies. She looked back at Saul. "I'm hoping a death threat will be a good excuse."

Then she thought, "We're not even going to let the captain know about this are we?" He nodded, and she sat again, "Mom will be devastated." It was all hitting her at once now.

"I know... I wouldn't want to be in your shoes. Or in mine. Letting your family know will be a tremendous risk, but... if the man behind this is one of your father's political opponents... is there any truly secure way to deliver a message to your father?"

"He's still at the conference area. They all pretty much live there. Both sides eat together and sleep wall to wall. So, not really. There are ears all over that building." Nara had yet to know that the message she neglected from her father explained a very different situation.

"That's bad, because he could be the one to spot our assassin for us. Perhaps... I'll have someone contact him in person."

As a new idea formed in Saul's mind, Nara continued, "Mom's on the USS Miranda. I guess we just have to not worry about that. I just hate how they'll react to this."

She looked up at Saul, forgetting how she hated feeling so vulnerable, "What do we do now?"

"Now..." Saul smiled faintly, "Now we try to think of a good way for you to die."

Nara put her head in her hand, "Lovely."

* * * * Ten Minutes Later * * * *

Nara stood from the chair and looked at Saul. "I think you know me well enough to know it's killing me to admit I'm scared." She took a breath and stood straighter, "But I guess I better just press on."

She wanted to hug him, but the greater impulse didn't want to. She took on a firm look and nodded, "Then we'll continue planning this later." She walked out toward the door wondering why it felt so hard to leave him back there. Right now, more than anything, she wanted him to be with her. As if he could protect her better than herself. That thought was odd to her. She never thought anyone could take better care of herself than her.

"I'll meet you once you're on the planet – and be careful!" Saul called after her.

So many lies, so many hidden layers.

There was an assassin. Of course there was. The assassin was him.

It was quite clear that he had two options. The easy one would be to turn her trust against her, and fulfill his contract. The other alternative was to cheat his most major contact on Ferenginar – one that was taking care of the majority of Saul's stock and possessions – and somehow try to spot the man behind the murder plot without losing the chances to fulfill his agenda.

As scary as it may sound, Saul still didn't determine which alternative he was going to follow.

As he reentered the CIC, a faint smile emerged on Saul's lips. At least his life weren't boring…

"Now Or Never"

Commander Karyn Dallas, RN
Chief Counselor/Second Officer
USS Galaxy - A

Something told her to accept bridge duty today. In hindsight, maybe it was her shrink. As Second Officer, Karyn was required to serve at least three bridge shifts per week, but for the past few months, Dallas had served the bare minimum with little enthusiasm. Sitting on the bridge as of late had given her too much time to think. With nothing but the starfields racing past her, there were times when Dallas wondered darkly if her own life were heading toward oblivion.

She hated feeling this self-absorbed, she hated feeling as if she were simply going through the motions (for she would never betray how she really felt), but the reality was she was not herself. Counselor Sabriel, the therapist she had been talking with via a secure channel from Starfleet Medical for the past few months, had forced her to face her impairments and had convinced her to cut back on the number of hours she worked. She'd had no choice really. Sabriel knew Karyn had been drinking at night and with her family history of alcoholism, it wasn't much of a stretch to question where Dallas was headed. Seeing Trill from the bridge would do her good, Sabriel had said, a chance to get away from the dark missions as of late.

Karyn was actually holding her breath as they came upon Trill, although at that moment she was apprehensive for an altogether different reason. As they moved closer to the planet, the first thing Karyn noticed was the blackness, spreading across the main continent like a cancer. The moment was positively surreal, like feeling yourself cresting the peak of a roller coaster and being unable to stop yourself from tumbling. She opened her mouth to speak, but found there were no words. For a moment, Karyn had thought she'd had a panic attack right there on the bridge or a stroke, for one moment she could move and the next moment she could not.

When the blood rush in her ears had finally subsided, her brain registered the reporter's voice and the urgent message. She sensed rather than knew the blood was gone from her face, the tears in her eyes making it hard to focus. For seconds that felt like an eternity, they were frozen in pure helplessness and then, as if reality were a rubber band that had been snapped back into place, the world had sped up again.

"Captain, incoming message from Starfleet. The Galaxy is being ordered to Trill. As fast as possible."

"Helm, make it so." he said nodding to Lt. Savoie, then turned to Commander Henderson. "Number One, have all departments prepare for coordinated rescue and recovery efforts. Medical should prepare for heave causalities. Engineering, Security. Have counselors on standby. I want all hands ready for duty."

Karyn was moving from her position beside Cassius Henderson before M'Kantu had completed his orders. Out of courtesy for the rest of the bridge crew, Karyn had waited to contact Lee Rowe until she had reached the turbolift. Before she could get the words out, it was as if he were reading her mind: "We're putting together a manifest of all the Trill crewmembers onboard and we're trying to get through to Trill in order to find out who was down there at the time of the crash. I'm coordinating with Intelligence as well. I've cleared the calendar and given priority to emergency sessions for crewmembers and survivors on the planet's surface."

Karyn nodded. "Good work, Lee. Coordinate with Ops and Medical in getting that list of survivors together. No sense all of us trying to get through when we're all after the same info. Obviously keep the calendar open for sessions, but schedule a mass briefing for our Trill crewmembers twenty minutes from now. The best thing we can do for them right now is provide them with our plan of action and what little information we currently have. We can find out from them the loved ones we'll be looking out for. I need you, Bran, and Am with me for the briefing and I want everyone else prepping for triage here and on the surface. Alpha and Beta shift's are on the surface, Gamma and Delta are on the ship. Let's roll."

"Aye, Commander!"

This was going to be one hell of a final mission for her.

***

Twenty minutes later, Katyn was in the department conference room facing a large crowd of spotted humanoids, all in Starfleet uniforms of various hues. Some had been crying, some were obviously trying to reign in their anger, and still others looked shell shocked.

Dallas leaned over to Ammanalyn, her Assistant Chief and trauma specialist, "Keep an eye on everyone as they come through, Am, I'm not in the business of re-traumatizing people needlessly. And before you say it, yes, I know, everyone's been traumatized. The fact remains, however, that they're Starfleet Officers and some of the best experts on the people and terrain of Trill that we have."

Karyn cleared her throat. "Ladies and Gentleman, thank you for coming. I know this is a trying time for all of you and the last thing you want to do is be psycho-analyzed. I assure you, we're not here to do that. You're all Starfleet Officers and I know you'll do what you must to help your people just as you would anyone else. Here's what we know right now..."

Backpost - November 2381

"Lost and Found" - Part IV

by Kylar Curran, Chief Liaison Officer

Secondaries:
Grelkor, Gorn Border Patrol
'Maggot' Cargo Herder

***

Starbase 212
Lower Docking Ring
Public Sector

***

The Gorn had postured to leave immediately, and gave no recourse to the Kelvan who shuffled along behind him. His hood pulled down over his face to cast it in shadows, they trudged through the dust-caked fringes of the lower rings of Starbase 212. Many ancient-looking citizens lay about the streets, and he couldn't identify them as dead or merely sleeping. Even if he cared, they could all go to rot. The Federation was an oozing sickness that failed to take care of its own citizens, much like the governments of Earth before the last Great War prior to first contact with Vulcan.

Always passing out handouts to new worlds, snowing them with false promises and trade agreements that robbed their own citizens. It was a travesty, and one the Kelvan Empire would repair when it was given the opportunity.

The Gorn was mumbling on about something or other, but Curran hardly listened. His own thoughts were of more import than a leather-backed behemoth whose only use was a frontline phalanx in a future revolution.

They emerged from the shadows of a grungy adjoining corridor that reaked of garbage and excrement to enter a starport of little acreage. No more than four docking bays were present, all of which had a variety of merchants set up outside the airlock entrances, plying their cheaply made wares off at enormously inflated prices.

The Gorn trudged towards Port 3, where several crates were stacked and guarded in a rolling cage by grubby creatures of unknown origin. Grelkor marched up, his leg muscles rippling as he took great lumbering strides towards the mobile unit and its sentries. Dust roiled around his feet and was swept away in the updraft of whatever was left of the ventilation systems.

"Get this loaded up! What are you waiting for??" The sentries, all about four feet tall, scurried off like rats in a cheese factory as they ducked and cowed under the Gorn's swaying arms. Nevermind that he held the keys to the airlock.

"You! Monk! No free rides for you! Get in there with the herd and load the cargo." He stomped off, shoving back a merchant who had dared push his goods on the giant reptilian. The creature, of a species Kylar did not immediately recognize nor care to, being that its craggy features were covered in postules and sores, scampered off like an abused animal. He threw Curran a sullen stare, one good yellow eye oozing a murky white liquid. Silently, the Kelvan hoped the disease it was carrying wasn't contagious.

Drawing his hood ever tighter over his sunken features, he then stretched out his thinning hands to grasp the steel rail of a cart loaded with several cargo modules. The anti-grav cart rolled over the dust as it blew motes out from underneath the lime-encrusted platform. The fluorescent globes that dangled from the low ceilings gave off their eerie glow as they cast his oblong shadow onto the walls of the docking corridor, following his pilot into the docking bay beyond.

***

Over an hour later, and the cargo units were still rolling into the condensed hold of Grelkor's converted marauder-sized ship. The ship itself was too large for a standard hold, so it hung outside the docking gantry and into the lower cargo holds of the internal starport. The extended rudder underneath, that held the ships navigational equipment and minor phaser banks slung down into the hold itself, forcing the handlers below to have re-arranged the inventory to allow the three meter wide pylon room to maneuver.

A thin black metal gantry extended itself out alongside the breadth of the craft at a length. Following the path of the gantry lead one to the entry hatch for the upper decks of the ship where the crew quarters and other amenities were located; the rear cargo hatch had a gangplank that had lowered onto the deck plating in the docking bay, where the Ugnaught minions were busily assembling the complex network of modules and units into a form of something understandable.

Curran, pushing his 14th anti-grav cart, caught Grelkor in a heated discussion with a Rigellian at the entry hatch. The smaller of the two aliens was shaking something his hand at the Gorn. From appearances at the waist level motions, the item was an offering or barter. Grelkor would have nothing of it, though. He swept a taloned hand at the Rigellian's as he attempted to push whatever was in his palm at the lizard. Their voices were muffled over the din of the ventilation and forcefield systems. Kylar felt a tug on his cuff.

"Don't be caught looking!" The Kelvan turned his cloaked features to his left and down at the infested creature. Dark globs of swirling red goop swam in the bad eye, the whole side of his head where it resided drooping as if melted wax. Wisps of straw-coloured hair matted against his skull in a glistening corset of gods-knew-what. He pushed on the cart in anxious fear as he lugged his own smaller unit against the tide. He couldn't get around Kylar's as he was holding up the line. "Move!" The grating whisper rippled out harshly and with a strength that belied the size of the creature, he shoved Kylar forward.

The Kelvan stumbled, whipping his head around in anger. One hand on the deck plating, the other having not released the cart, his eyes burned darts of fire into the creature. Oh, how he could relieve it of its pain...

"What's going on around here?! Maggot!" The Gorn hissed and seethed his rage as he slammed his way down the gangplank. Without warning, he cuffed the sorry creature, sending him curtailing into one of the following carts. His companion herders shrieked and squealed, but kept at their stations, their heads down so as to avoid the Gorn's murderous gaze. Grelkor turned his attention then to Curran, his chest bellowing in rage.

"Until you prove you are of any worth to me, 'huuuummmaaaannn'", he poured out the word in disgust, "you are but another body on this ship to make me money. Don't think you have any special privileges other than the relief of instant death when I eject you out of an airlock. No one would miss you." Other than the entire Liaision Corps, the Galaxy, and those on Kelva tracking him, but Grelkor didn't know this; he was but a pawn in Curran's personal mission.

He gripped the silver rail of the cart and shoved it at the Kelvan. "Now, get to work!" He turned his back on the Kelvan and drove up a terror in the ugnaught herd behind.

Kylar picked himself up off the ground, dutifully clenched his hands around the cart handle and pulled. Grelkor didn't notice how white his hands were as the blood was cut off from the death grip on the cart.

"Devil Went Down To Jhorjah" Part 5

[Backpost]

(Takes place forty minutes after 'Part 4', and approximately 2 months before the start of 'Disaster')

Principal Characters

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

Secondary Characters

Sevok T'sel Hraask

****

Jhorjah Dahnyehl
City Alleyway

One dark back alley, Victor had long since decided, looked pretty much like another, no matter where you were in the galaxy. The one he was currently walking down, for example, could just as easily have been one of the alleys he'd walked on Cardassia Prime during his stint in the occupation forces, or one of the alleys he'd prowled on a dozen other worlds in his career with Starfleet. They'd all had more shadows than he thought necessary, more garbage than he'd known was necessary, and all, invariably, had enough places along their length that a platoon of drunken Nausicaans could have hidden there to ambush him with no trouble.

This particular alley though, was different. What this alley had, as opposed to all the others he'd found himself in was something unique: he'd never before found himself in an alley, shadows, garbage, potential hiding places and all, with a Klingon woman who'd sworn to kill him but was currently determined to keep up the charade that they were a married couple very much in lust with each other in case someone saw them.

He'd had to stop her from crawling all over him twice now after she'd thought she'd heard or seen someone else in the alleyway, which while commendable, was a bit much. Victor thought that she might at least wait and see if the people she'd heard or seen - or thought she had - were even going to move to a position where such a deception was actually necessary before worrying with it, but he supposed it was par for the course with the Attendant. She always seemed to do everything in the same way that she hated - without reservation.

"How much further?" he asked quietly as they reached an intersection and he cautiously checked the other alleys for their compliment of drunken Nausicaans.

"Not far," she assured him, one arm wrapped around his. "That warehouse there," she nodded down the alleyway to the right, "at the end. See it?"

"The one with the..." Victor sighed internally in recognition, "...three Nausicaans outside the door on guard?"

"That's it," the Attendant confirmed as she leaned against him sensuously, as if discussing a far more personal subject.

"I don't suppose you have the password or whatever to get past them, too?" Victor asked, as he eyed the approaches and weighed options. "There's only three of them, but even with each of us taking one, the third one will have time to sound an alarm."

"That won't be a problem," she assured him. "I have that information..." She looked at him with half-lidded eyes and whispered, "But you'd kill them for me if I asked you to, wouldn't you, husband?"

"If that's what needed to be done, yes - but you already know that." Victor turned and met her eyes, the thing inside him stir again and slip close enough to the surface to make the Attendant's breath catch in a soft gasp of surprise. "That's why we're together - because no one else can do what you need done the way I can."

"Yes, she purred. "I can see that...." She straightened up. "Come. We will go and deal with the arms dealers - and then you can give me what I want from you."

Victor glanced at the Attendant as she started down the alley, her hips moving in the way V'kala's did, and frowned. If she wanted to settle what she thought lay between them after this was all over, fine. He'd been in enough fights since the mission started, one more wouldn't matter now.

Two steps brought him even with her, and a third had them moving in synch with each other again, her hand slipping to the small of his back as his brushed against the outside of her leg.

The three Nausicaans straightened up as they approached, the one that appeared to be the leader - the largest - stepped up and started to challenge them as the other two fingered oversized blasters. "Stop or we shoot!"

Another talker, Victor marveled. How could anyone survive in the illegal arms business - or whatever business Hraask was in besides professional bleeding - by talking and not just doing whatever it was that they threatened? He opened his mouth to speak, but the Attendant was faster, "We're here to see your employer. The pass phrase is," she leaned forward and lowered her voice, "targh tIq."

There was a moment when Victor was certain that something was wrong, when the lead Nausicaan's eyes narrowed and he tensed slightly like he was going to launch an attack, as if the password had been incorrect. Victor's hand was already in motion to push the Attendant to the side and spoil the thug's shot at her when the moment passed and the Nausicaan nodded. "Pass," the thug said with a disappointed look, as if he'd been shown a new toy and had it snatched away.

Victor turned the movement of his hand into a slide up the Attendant's back to turn her slightly as he moved past her to take the lead. He stopped at the door and looked at the Nausicaan. "Do you open the door, or do I open it with you?"

The Nausicaan blinked as he worked his way through the sentence, but the Attendant laughed huskily and diverted his attention before he'd sorted it out. "Yes, do open the door for us. That's what you're paid for, isn't it?"

The alien grunted, nodded, and keyed the door open to let them pass.

"Was that really necessary?" the Attendant asked after the door had closed behind them.

Of course she'd protest his attempt to protect her, Victor realized. Being K'vala, she could do nothing else. "You're no good to me with a hole burned through you," he pointed out.

"That wasn't what I meant," she laughed. "I meant the insult you wasted on that poor clod... But now that you bring it up, would you... miss me?' she asked with a smile.

That comment, Victor realized, must have cost her a lot to get out. He was certain she'd have rather demonstrated how much easier her life would be if *he* had a hole burned through something vital as opposed to staying in character. "I never miss," he replied, knowing it wouldn't help matters any but not caring. She wouldn't kill him before this was done, and they both knew she'd always intended to do it afterwards. "You know that, wife - I've never missed any time I've tried to hit you." He poked her in the abdomen with his forefinger, just over the beltline, where he'd hit her the last time they'd fought.

The Attendant blinked, looked down, and then laughed. "I'm not one bit sorry I decided to come with you," she said with a slow smile as she swayed forward and kissed him again. "I'm just sorry I didn't see you first."

"If you had," Victor pointed out after she'd pulled back, "we wouldn't be here." He'd be dead, and the problems of the Attendant, her House, the Galaxy, and everyone he knew wouldn't involve, or matter to, him at all.

"No," she agreed, her eyes narrowed as they studied him. "I don't believe we would."

"Since we are," Victor looked around the entryway they'd moved into. "Let's do what we're here for." He glanced at her in passing as he surveyed the room. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

"No," she returned, eyes still lidded. "No, I still want the same thing from you."

Of course she did - she'd wanted to kill him for two years now, that kind of determination didn't fade in a few weeks - even if there was a reason for it to, which there wasn't. "Then let's do it." Victor started forward. "Once we're through here, then we can address your needs. You want that, don't you?"

'Oh yes," the Attendant breathed as she followed him. "I want my needs met."

The door slid aside and let them into the main body of the warehouse, a space only slightly smaller than the main shuttle bay of the Galaxy. Crates were piled higher than head-level, with lanes running between them like one of the rat mazes Victor was always asked to navigate in his annual psych profiles, the ones that the Counselors always finished with higher frustration levels than he ever did because they refused to accept that he didn't get frustrated. A short, open lift on the right wall ran to an overhead catwalk that, in turn, ran back to the center of the warehouse and an overhead room that appeared to be the warehouse office. Two shorter catwalks ran out of the office, one to the front and the other to the back, and terminated in clear spherical pods that housed a mini-tractor unit and rotating control chair, the rearward pod currently in use by a Nausicaan to shift several crates with Cardassian markings.

Victor looked around the immediate area. "No welcoming committee." He listened for a moment, sniffed the air, and then nodded towards the area directly underneath the office. "People over that way. I hear three, maybe four voices." He turned his head to the side so he could see the Attendant. "And you changed whatever it is that you're wearing to make yourself smell good."

"Do you like it?" she purred.

"No," Victor replied as he started forward and into the maze. "I liked the old one better."

"Why?" she asked, voice sharp.

"This one makes you smell cheap," he answered without turning around. He'd seen her mad before, and knew the warning sounds that carried in her voice. No point in wasting time seeing her mad again. "You're a great many things, but that isn't one of them."

She snapped out a word in Klingon that he didn't know - hardly difficult - but that he really didn't need a translation for. He'd been called it before in a hundred languages on a dozen worlds, two space stations, and every ship he'd served aboard.

"Probably," he agreed tonelessly. "Stop fingering the mekleth we both know you're not going to use and catch up."

The Attendant made a small growling sound in her throat and repeated the word she'd called him earlier as she caught up to him.

Victor considered saying something else, but discarded the idea as counterproductive. There were other things that he needed to do that were far more important than finding ways to annoy the Attendant. He could do that just by breathing.

As they rounded the last turn, her arm slipped around his as she slipped back into her persona, her body swaying into step with him. "You take too many chances, husband," she breathed softly into his ear.

"Not really," he replied as they moved into an open area under the overhang of the office where weapons were displayed on racks and tables in a businesslike manner more at home in a clothing shop than an illegal weapons depot, and, surprisingly, the four Vulcans he'd talked to earlier were browsing. "Well," he nodded to the quartet as they all looked up. "I didn't expect to be speaking to you so soon."

"Captain," T'sel nodded back in the precise Vulcan way. "I must apologize. I did not realize that you were here on the same business we were."

"No reason you should," Victor replied. It took only a moment to decipher why Vulcans would be purchasing illegal arms. If they'd been some sort of law enforcement agents, the operation would already be shut down, which meant that they were either, which Victor doubted, or they belonged to the only group of Vulcans that he knew that required access to items of this sort - the VIM. "I believe I mentioned textiles and spices, not..." he waved a hand at a nearby rack of Cardassian rifles, "...this sort of merchandise."

"You did not," she agreed. "I trust everything came out all right with your... marital disagreement?"

Victor let himself smile, which drew another sultry look and a tightened grip on his arm from the Attendant. "I think he understood the terms of the divorce, yes."

"Well then," T'sel glanced at the weapons arrayed around them. "I believe my companions have examined the items available for purchase, and find that they are of acceptable quality and quantity, as promised." Sevok looked up from the disassembled disruptor rifle in his hands and nodded once in agreement, followed by the others in succession. The Vulcan woman turned back towards Victor and the Attendant. "In which case, I am prepared to do business at the price your agent communicated to us."

Victor blinked once. His agent? *Their* agent? What was.... He turned slightly to look at the Attendant. Of course, it made sense now. The member of K'vala's House that was running the arms dealing was her sister, V'kala - and T'sel believed the Attendant to be V'kala, and Victor-as-Erik to be her husband. Which meant that Hraask's appearance was no accident, and that he *and* the real V'kala were here, on Jhorjah, no matter what arrangements the Attendant had made for her sister's confinement, and that everything was much, much more complicated than he'd believed. He and the Attendant weren't weapons *buyers* like they'd planned - they were the *dealers* - and they had no idea what arrangements or protocols had been established with the VIM buyers.

"Well," he asked the Attendant, hoping that she had a better plan than the ever-popular 'get 'em' up her sleeve, "are we ready, wife?" His hand slipped down her back and out of sight of the Vulcans, as if releasing his hold on her shoulder, as he prepared to draw and start shooting if necessary.

The Attendant, in turn, drew back slightly, glanced at him with a sly smile, and trailed two fingers down his cheek. "I'm always ready, husband... you should know that," she murmured huskily. "But you'll need to wait a bit. Now," she started as she turned towards the Vulcans, "about the price you were quoted. There are some shipping issues that have come up I the last Standard Day which will affect the per-unit price."

"Affect it how?" If a Vulcan could sound suspicious, T'sel knew the way to do it.

"If you can take immediate delivery, then I... we... can give you a 12% discount per unit across the board, and bring the price down to 4400 Federation Credits each for the small arms, and 665,000 Federation Credits each for the three Kordak-class plasma mines." She paused a moment, calculating. "That comes out to 146 bars of certified latinum each for the small arms and 22,166 bars each for the mines at the current conversion rate. We will accept the fractional loss incurred if conversion if you pay in latinum."

"Agreed," T'sel said without hesitation.

Victor blinked again. There was no possible way that the Attendant could have know that, no way for her to have had the information needed to know what the Vulcans wanted to purchase, and at what price, unless... unless she wasn't the Attendant at all, unless she wasn't K'vala, but rather V'kala. He felt himself start to smile, felt the layers inside him start to peel back as the thing that lived there gathered itself for the moment that he let it free. If this was V'kala, then she knew why he was here, knew what - if not who - he was, and knew that he'd kill her at the first opportunity now.

V'kala turned her eyes to Victor, the light that danced in them making it plain that she knew that he knew the truth, and that the game continued only as long as she allowed it to. "Agreed... husband?" she asked, a look of anticipation on her face.

There were the four Vulcans, who wouldn't understand what was happening for the few seconds needed to let him draw and fire, Victor discarded them as an immediate threat. For her to be so sure of herself, there had to be... there, on the catwalk, three Nausicaans, with blasters aimed at him. He'd never get the shot off, which meant there was nothing left to do but continue to play the game and wait for a better chance that would let him take V'kala with him. "Agreed... wife," he nodded with a smile that made the Klingon woman shiver.

"We can transfer the latinum in seventy-three minutes," T'sel continued, oblivious to the subtexts flowing back and forth between Victor and V'kala. "Is that acceptable?"

"Very," V'kala assured her. "You may take delivery at that time, provided the latinum certifies. A formality, but since this is a family-owned business, you'll understand the necessity." She took Victor's arm again and leaned into him. "We'll need a nest egg for the children, to make sure they're cared for."

"Ah. Congratulations, then, on your successful conception," T'sel offered.

"Oh no," V'kala shook her head as she leaned into Victor some more, ruining his chance to draw a weapon and shoot as she wrapped herself around him. "We haven't conceived yet." She smiled and her hand slid down his chest to his beltline, and then lower.. "But it won't take long; my husband is very..." her eyes widened slightly and her smile widened ferally, "vigorous...."

The likelihood of his performing the required activity, much less conceiving a child, with V'kala was, Victor estimated, somewhat less likely than his being installed as President of the Federation by a unanimous vote of the populace. He turned into her, hand reaching for her wrist to break it so she couldn't touch him with that hand again, the last layers holding his inner self in check falling away as he accepted the fact that he was about to die... and stopped as another voice hissed, "Bitch! Take your hands off him!"

Heads snapped around to see the woman Victor knew was the Attendant already in motion, hands outstretched like talons as she dove at V'kala, a confused Corvallen merchant behind her.

V'kala growled like a jungle cat, released Victor and spun about to receive her sister's diving impact head-on. The two identically-dressed Klingon women crashed into one of the display tables, knocked weapons about like cards falling after a Red Alert in the Marine barracks, and began to fight in earnest.

"Captain," T'sel asked mildly, a phaser in hand. "Would you explain this, please?"

It was, Victor decided, one of those moments that seemed to fill his life where he was given the inestimably wonderful, certain knowledge, that there was a Divine Being - and the equally certain knowledge that They hated Victor with a passion undreamt of by mortal beings.

"Satisfaction Guaranteed"

Major Corran Rex
Erin Friel

Ten Forward -- the day before the arrival at Trill.

Fingering the new gold maple leaf on his collar, "Major" Corran Rex found that he was promoted today, of all days, to be a great irony.

As he entered the double doors of the ten-forward lounge, he wasn't surprised to find that the ship's hotspot was sparsely crowded. Wasn't a whole helluva lot to celebrate, on a day like today.

Spotting the redhead behind the bar, the Trill promptly set himself down in front of her. "Well, if it isn't my favorite redheaded human," he said, tossing Erin an ingratiating grin.

With one eyebrow raised, Erin looked up from the crate of Andorian gin she was inventorying. "I'll accept the greeting only because I happen to be the only redheaded human here right now," she retorted flatly, her attention mostly still on the gin. "I assume you didn't drop by just to delivery idle flattery, ... Major, is it?"

"It is now," he replied with a snort. "A ship falls on my home city, and I get promoted, all in one day. Talk about your mixed signals."

She paused, a hint of regret in her emerald eyes for her less-than-welcoming words. "That was your home city? I- I'm sorry. Have you heard anything about anyone you know?"

He gave a brief shake of the head. "Comm traffic's too crowded."

The Trill looked up at the chrono on the wall. "And as we will not arrive at Trill for another eighteen hours, and I'm not due on duty for another dozen, I've got a favor to ask of you, sweetheart."

The sympathy vaporized instantly from Erin's eyes. "I have a name -- it's Erin. Try to remember it." She returned to her crate of gin. "What can I do for you?"

"Alight, Erin," he said, looking deep into her eyes. "I want that Romulan Ale you've got under the counter. Straight up, leave the bottle, and," he said, waving around to the nearly empty room "join me in it. Your many customers here won't mind at all."

"First, Major . . . "

"Come on, Erin." he said, giving his most disarming smile, trying to hide just how much like crap he felt. "What's the worse that could happen?"

"Major . . . what *is* your name, anyway?" she asked impatiently.

"Corran."

"Major Corran, I've been tending bars for awhile now, so you can put away 'the look'. Now as presumptuous as you are, I *do* happen to have a bottle of Romulan Ale under here, and given the circumstances, I'll let you have some. As for me joining you . . . well, let's just say you'll have to try harder, okay?" A bit of the old fashioned Irish Lass was talking now, with equal parts effrontery and "come hither", waiting to be shaken, not stirred.

"You got something better to do?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because I'd be pretty bored just sitting there polishing glasses all night long."

"I can find you a babysitter, if that's what you need," she retorted as she rummaged through the assorted bottles for the requested Romulan Ale.

"I'd rather your company."

A smile slowly bloomed on Erin's mouth. "That's *much* better, Major. Much better." She punctuated her gentler tone by producing the bottle of Ale. "I'd say that deserves something, so here you are."

"Glasses then," he asked "Or right from the bottle?"

"I'm not one to stand on ceremony, Major. Besides, no one's looking." She uncorked the bottle, smiling as she breathed in the heady aroma. Then she hauled back and took a swig that would have done any ancient mariner proud. "That's the way you drink Romulan Ale, Major," she said, licking the foam from her lips.

"A girl after my own heart," he replied, taking the bottle from her and doing likewise. "Sure you're not really a fighter pilot?"

"Never flown anything in my life -- but I've been in a fight or two," she said with a wink. "I assume that's what you do, pilot fighters?"

"Commander of the Vanguards, at your service," the Trill said, taking another swig. "And I could fly this ship with only one engine better than that idiot up on the bridge does."

"Careful, Major. That 'idiot' is my boyfriend." She downed some more of the ale. "Or was . . . I dunno, is, was, whatever."

"My condolences," he said with an embarrassed laugh as he took another swig, savoring the feeling of fire as it worked its way all the way down to his stomach. Shaking off the kick of it, he handed the bottle back to the bartender.

Erin waved her hand dismissively. "Don't bother," she replied, grabbing the bottle and walking around to the other side of the bar. She took the stool next to Corran. "Things between us have been -- mm, 'rocky', shall we say? -- since the day we met. I can take care of myself; I just don't know how much longer I can stand taking care of him."

"That's why I've cast off relationships," he replied as she took her own drink and returned the bottle. "Five hundred years - I've got enough baggage. Don't need more."

"Five hundred, huh? That's right; I almost forgot that you Trill were generally pretty long-lived. Does that make you a young rascal or just an old letch on your world?"

"That makes me... experienced," he replied, with just the proper expression to deliver the right connotation to the word.

Was it the ale or was it that he was a pilot that made Erin suddenly think this guy wasn't so bad after all? She wasn't sure it even mattered. "You don't say? I'll bet you can learn a lot in five hundred years," she casually remarked, her lips lingering on the bottle just a tad longer on her next swig.

"Sure can," came the easy reply, as he locked eyes with hers, trying to see if what he thought was there was.

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

Erin Friel's Quarters, Deck Fourteen

The next morning....

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

Corran stretched as he awoke, reflexively checking the chrono on Erin's nightstand. Still an hour until he had to report for duty. A broad smile sat on his face as he recalled the repeated events of the last night.

The Trill attempted to remove his arm from under the Bartender without waking her, as she looked quite content the way she was sleeping. The attempt was unsuccessful, however, and Erin stirred even as he sat up.

The sleep still evident in her voice and the wisps of red hair scattered over her pillow, she turned and looked up at him. "You're not *that* eager to leave, are you? Do I have to pull a bottle of Romulan Ale out from under my bed?"

"Not eager at all, Red," he chuckled. "I do, though, have to report for duty. Otherwise, I'd happily while the hours away with you. I'm sure we could find ways to amuse ourselves."

She slid herself upwards slightly, and nestled onto his chest. "I'm sure we could, but I know how it is with you fly-boys. Just stop by for a nightcap again sometime, okay?"

"Yes ma'am," he said with a mock salute. "Your satisfaction is guaranteed."

"How may I help?"

Lt. Dr. Klaus Fienberg, CMO

"Dr. Axl", EMH MK.IVF(AKA ELMH: Emergency Long-Term Medical Hologram)

Lt.jg Dr. Jack Slen also makes an appearance.

The EMH MK.IVF...."Dr. Axl" as Klaus called him. Klaus was not really the direct achitect of this type, also refered to as the ELMH, or Emergency Long-Term Medical Hologram. Klaus was basically under the Direct instruction of Dr. Zimmerman himself.

He suddenly appeared next to the portable holoemitter in Klaus' office.

"Please State the Nature of your Medical Emergency."

"Stop Program. Delete Primary activate statement, and use the secondary as the primarily. Restart Program afterward."

A Flicker and a rematerialization left "Dr. Axl" to restart.

"How may I help?"

Klaus eyed the hologram, which he programmed to share the appearance of his father at a younger age. "State your designation and purpose."

"I am the EMH Mark IV F. As a custom medical hologram I was designed to assist the Medical staff in cases of long term emergencies as well as to become a long term member of the staff if need be. I was designed with the lessons of a certain EMH Mark I as well as programmed specifically with the knowledge of Dr. Klaus Fienberg. Nonetheless I have full access to starfleet's vast library of medical knowledge, and am fully equipped to learn new medical techniques on the fly. My personality Matrix was hand written by Dr. Zimmerman as a prototype for future Starfleet Holograms in all fields of use, specifically future possibilties with the EMH Mk. V and VI. I am at your service."

Jack peeked in. "Seems kind of dull doens't he." "Dr. Axl" stared blankly at the wall behind a seated Klaus. "At least you didn't give him your damned accent."

Klaus sighed at his colleague. "I was getting to that. Dr. Axl's personality matrix is experimental, and has a self deactivation feature should things go wrong. I have to activate it now."

Klaus turned back to the Hologram. "Computer, Activate Personality Matrix."

Dr. Axl flickered and smiled at his colleagues. "Well, If I do say so myself, I feel like a new holographic man.....How may I help?"

"Well, something very grim has happened on Trill....."

OOC: Takes place fifteen minutes after the Galaxy arrives at Trill.

"Loose Ends"

Commander Cass Henderson, Executive Officer

with... Captain Stravo, Ship's Master, SS Danner's Fold
Lieutenant Arthur Keyes, Starfleet Security

****

Ship's Brig,
Deck 13,
USS Galaxy-A

Cass Henderson walked through the security offices. Offering a nod to the duty officer, he keyed his access code into the pad next to the door to the ship's brig. With the Galaxy having just arrived in orbit over Trill, things needed to be taken care of quickly.

Since the news from Trill had arrived Cassius hadn't stopped moving. He'd placed the ship on yellow alert. Then, after a brief meeting with M'Kantu, he'd met with Lieutenant Tarin from operations to plan out the relief effort deployment. That had taken awhile. He hadn't spent much time thinking about the Akula's crash, or the repercussions, or the price.

After the meetings, he had gone to his office and checked in with Starfleet Security. With the disaster on Trill, Security had decided to step up the schedule for their pickup of the detainees from the Danner's Fold. Transporting a biogenic weapon was a serious offense, and Starfleet Security didn't want to wait until the disaster was contained.

So they'd sent a border patrol cutter, the SS Policier, to rendezvous with the Galaxy an hour before the arrival at Trill. Any later and the shuttlebays would be tied up with preparations for deployment and emergency medical transport. Secondary bays were already being converted to medbays and rapid response units.

Entering the brig, Cass again nodded, this time to the brig watch officer. "The paperwork's in order, right?" he asked, stepping over to the watch terminal and hanging over the prisoner transfer orders. Hopefully this would only take a few moments.

The petty officer manning the terminal hooked Cass' PADD up to the terminal and ran the necessary checks. "You're just beaming them down to the main shuttlebay and then shipping them off?"

"Yes. And the passengers. Considering how busy this ship is about to get, we need to get them out of the way too," Henderson replied, "And I'll be happier when they're gone. It means that I can finally get some rest. Which I'll need before I can go dirtside."

"Well, everything seems to be in order. Do you need a hand?" the petty officer asked, hopefully, "I don't have anyone important to be guarding at the moment."

"Nope. I'm pretty sure that Captain Stravo and his men are going for early release through cooperation and plea bargain," Cass replied, surprised that given the circumstances the young human was still that eager, "Have you signed up to be deployed with the rescue teams?"

"No, sir. I don't think it'd be my thing."

"Yeah? You should. There are people down there who need you to help them. Medical can't do it alone without some strong hands to help. I'm sure you'd be good at it," the executive officer said. The kid sounded like he could use some good advice. "Trust me. There's nothing better than knowing you've saved a life."

"Well, I guess it's better than sitting here all day."

"Exactly. Go tell Commander Corgan you want to beam down when your shift's over," Henderson nodded to the young man, then stepped over to the brig forcefield, behind which sat Captain Stravo

"Commander Henderson," the mountainous Nausicaan rumbled. His voice itself sounded like it could shake the walls of the ship.

"The Border Patrol's here. I take it you've talked to your men?" Cass asked, eager to have the Nausicaan off his ship.

"Yes. They have agreed to cooperate."

"That's more like it," Cass replied. "Let's go. Henderson to transporter room three. I need the crew of the Danner's Fold and myself beamed to location five in the Main Shuttlebay."

[One moment, sir.]

It took a couple of moments in the end, but less than a minute later, they reappeared in the corner of the Main Shuttlebay, surrounded by a security detail from the SS Policier and in front of one of the border patrol ship's shuttlepods. Cass had little doubt it had been modified for prisoner transport. The smugglers looked around for a moment, and he could hear them grumbling around him, unnerved by being suddenly surrounded by officers of Starfleet Security.

"Commander Henderson?" a voice caught his attention. A middle aged lieutenant of the border patrol walked across the bay from a second shuttlepod, the emblem for the SS Policier emblazoned on its side. A figure that Cass recognized briefly drew his attention to the second pod. Draco Valmont, the well-to-do passenger from the Danner's Fold seemed to nod to him, then disappeared into the back of the shuttle. "I'm Lieutenant Keyes from the Policier, here for the prisoner transfer."

"Excellent," Cass said, returning his attention to Keyes. He clasped the lieutenant on the shoulder and lead him to a discreet distance between the two shuttlepods. He handed Keyes a PADD. "You'll need to sign for them. They're probably going to be fairly cooperative, but I'd have your men keep an eye on the Andorian. He's been the troublemaker so far."

"Thank you, sir," Keyes scribbled briefly on the touchscreen, authorizing the transfer. "I'll watch him myself. Damned fringers. You can't trust them with their hands tied behind their backs."

Henderson nodded, though he didn't totally agree with the sentiment. "Well then, let's get to it. I need to get the new crew oriented and deployed, which means we need to get rid of these guys."

"Yes, sir," Keyes replied briefly before turning and walking back to his men, barking orders. "We're cleared to go. Move them onto the transport! You there, get back in line!"

Cass walked away, bored. Things seemed to be moving slowly, as if the world was pausing to gasp at the tragedy on Trill, gawking in a way that was only possible on a large scale. He watched as one by one, Keyes filed the smugglers onto the shuttlepod. The last to go was Stravo, who turned to look back at him, and they locked eyes. Henderson nodded, and the big Nausicaan was gone.

Hopefully the leniency he had promised would be delivered by the courts.

"Engineering Angels.. Charlie's angels of the space"

Lt. Commander Brianna "Anna O'Shea, Chief Engineer
Lt. Ella Grey, Assistant Chief Engineer
Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineer

ALSO Ensign Mei Sime, Engineer (played by Lori)
Ensign Emma Saturn, Engineer (played by Lori)
Master Mate George Kastanza, Shuttlecraft Systems Chief (played by Lori)

:: Shuttle bay, USS Galaxy ::

Anna was standing there with 'Commander Hwii'', whom she was leaving in command of Engineering. "Everything should go as normal. I've left some notes on my desk what needs to be done. Handle things while were gone, I might need you to beam down more supplies. Any problems, contact me." Brianna said, before turning to walk to the Euphrates.

-=/\=- "O'Shea to Grey, Roswell and Eshe... I'm heading for the Euphrates... have her prepped and ready for my arrival... O'Shea out." -=/\=-

Nara had no sooner stepped onto the turbolift when O'Shea sent the comm message. The communication was one way, so Nara mumbled to herself, "Was on my way anyway." She leaned against the wall. About half a minute ago, she had left Saul. She had left with knowledge she wasn't quite sure what to do with. She found it had shaken her greatly. Worst of it was, she had to trust Saul to take care of it. Meaning she had no control.

She rushed into the shuttlebay, thankful she was there before O'Shea got there. She stepped into the shuttlebay and knew without seeing him, Kastanza was there. He left his stench. Mei and Emma were chatting about the disaster on Trill and placing the last of the items in place when Nara got there.

"I couldn't imagine having to be down there when it happened." She heard Emma say.

Nara peeked her head into the shuttle, "How are things coming?"

Mei looked over, "Almost done. George is doing the last of the systems checks."

Nara looked over and saw George look at her sheepishly. She wasn't sure of what to think of his sudden timidness, but was glad for it. She started double checking things, feeling guilty for having been gone. Or maybe just to forget she was gone and what she learned while away.

Mei stood and stretched, "So what did Intelligence have to say?"

Nara looked at her and frowned, "Sorry Mei. Need to know basis."

Mei and Emma looked at her. Emma asked, "Does O'Shea know?"

Nara turned back around to continue her checks, "The people who need to know, know."

Mei and Emma shrugged and continued working.

In the pilot seat, George felt like running for cover. He knew who worked in Intelligence. Maybe Nara wasn't worth all this.

Ella walked in and nodded at the other officers before moving towards O'Shea with a prearranged computer PADD. *WHAT DO YOU NEED ME TO DO?*

Brianna walked into the bay and looked around. Seeing Ella standing there at the Euphrates, she walked over and was looking at the padd. "We are all going to be working together. We need to make sure the structural integrity is safe for relief workers to come in. Once we finish that, we are going to began clearing rubble." Anna said, then looked at Nara. "Ensign, a word with you in private." She said, then turned and walked over.

Nara sighed. Yup. Just what she thought. It really would had been better if Saul came to her. He was a chief, he could do that. She on the other hand, expected a 'I'm disappointed in you' speech from O'Shea. She was right.

"I gave you a direct order over see the stocking of Euphrates with gear. Then, I learn you didn't. Wouldn't have known had Emma and Mei not contacted me about what else I was needing. Then I learn you off with Lt.JG Saul Bental in Intelligence... I don't care what it was about. You should know that I am disappointed in you. My order superceded any you got form Lt. Bental." Anna said, she wasn't yelling, wasn't mad. Just disappointed. You should know, you are a engineer, not a intelligence officer. I expect you do duties of a engineer. If I find out your working for Intelligence without my prior knowledge, I will speak to the captain about it." Brianna said. "Intelligence isn't our concern." Anna said, that was all she had to say on it. "Lets go.." Brianna said, then turned and looked at Ella and stepped inside. "George, I'd ask you to go. But you need a bath, so it's just Ella, Nara, Mei and Emma going with me..." Brianna said, as she settled down in the now vacant pilot's chair.

Nara barely had a chance to speak, but she was irritated. O'Shea had no idea what was going on, yet maybe Nara deserved all that. She turned and thought to herself, ~I'm not working with Intelligence, and I couldn't tell you what it was about anyway.~ She grabbed the empty bags and put them in a storage compartment. Her face felt hot. She wasn't sure if she was angry at Saul, Mei and Emma, herself, or the idiot who chose the worse time to assassinate her. She did know she was embarrassed.

George looked at Anna and nodded. He gave a quick glance at Nara. He'd hoped she wouldn't find out it was his idea that Mei and Emma ask O'Shea what else she needed. Especially when his motive was so she would find out where Nara was. He made a quick retreat out of the shuttle and went over to another to assist in it's preparation.

Ella settled into Ops, while Nara stood at the science station. "Euphrates to shuttle bay control... ready for launch." Anna said, as she brought the thrusters online.

"Roger that, good luck and God's speed."

Mei looked at Emma sadly. Emma shrugged her shoulders as if to say Nara deserved it.

Nara didn't look at either of them. She instead focused on the console in front of her. In order to save her sanity she focused on saving lives.

"Computer, inform Captain M'Kantu that engineering team has been deployed.." Anna said, as she arched over the Galaxy and began descent toward Trill.

Anna looked up just as they broke through the cloud cover, created from smoke from the city. First they all saw was the rubble and remains of a starship. "Mary mother of god..." Anna said softly, then looked down. "Taking us down." She said, "See if you can find us a landing site, Ella." Brianna said, then looked back to the wreckage.

Nara looked up out at the crashed ship and was so shocked, her face was expressionless. What would cause someone to do such a thing. Sometimes it just hit her how cruel people can be. It was enough to make one just give up; or in her case grip the console so strong that her fingers and knuckles turned white as she felt anger crawl up. She wanted to go out and find whoever did this.

But she was an engineer today. Her job wasn't fighting. Her job was ensuring safety so people could live to find survivors. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked back down at her console.

Mei's lip started to quiver as her eyes let out tears. Emma had been looking in horrified awe when she heard the whimper to her side.

The whimper also caused Nara to glance over. She was scared to leave her station to comfort Mei, so she did something she rarely did. She mindspoke and even tried to transfer some comfort. ~Mei, we have to focus. We have to make sure no one else gets hurt.~

Mei's eyes went wide as she looked at Nara. Emma looked at Mei and then Nara in a questioning gaze. Nara ignored Emma and said one last thing to Mei, ~I'll explain later. We have a job to do now.~

Mei nodded and simply pouted at the view. Nara knew this would never leave Mei, but hopefully she helped the girl not get caught up in it.

"This is...the best spot." Ella said in her mechanical voice while bringing up the coordinates. For once, she was glad that she could show no emotion vocally. The monotone was closer to what she was feeling anyway.

Nara looked at Ella. When did THAT happen? There'd be time to bombard Ella with questions later. She looked back at her console shaking her head. Today was loaded with surprises. Mei seemed to not even notice, being that her mind still on the sight before her.

Emma looked up slightly surprised, but looked away quickly. She happened to be in Engineering when that poor Ensign got a verbal chewing from the monotone voice.

"Received." Brianna said, about the landing site.
"Changing course." The chief engineer informed, as the runabout changed course and moved over the landing site. Once they were landed, Brianna locked out the controls to only allow for Starfleet personal to access the small craft. She then moved to the cargo compartment and began to clip things on to her waist. She said nothing, then stopped as she pulled two different kinds of engineering kits and sat them aside to take with her.

Turning to her crew she looked at her team. "I want you to know that what we see how there we'll never forget. I promise you that. It's not easy believe me. I don't know what've you've all to endure, but until you've dealt with something like this you can't put it into words. So I want you to do there will be people we can't help, the air will thick with the smell of death and dying. Tears will come, so will grief. I ask you all to try to be strong. We've all probably lost friends or even family here. We need to make sure that no more die from the wreckage." Brianna said, then looked at them. She looked at them for a long moment, then turned and picked up the two kits.

"Lets do this." Anna stated, finding the strength as she it the hatch door.

"Outside Job"

Commander Cass Henderson, Executive Officer
Lieutenant JG Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer

****

Executive Officer's Office,
Deck 8,
USS Galaxy-A

Cora left her office to take care of one other matter of business prior to her trip down to Central Intel on Trill. It bothered her to have to do this but she couldn't let it stand either. "Commander do you have a moment?" she intercepted Henderson at his office door.

"Sure thing, Cora," Cass replied, and motioned for her to enter his office before him. He followed on her footsteps, and tossed the black duffel bag that he was carrying over onto the couch that sat in front of one wall of countertops. Taking a seat behind his desk, he proceeded to remove his commbadge and start to field strip it. "So what can I do for you?"

"Normally, sir, I'd say this isn't anything I'd concern you with until I had better data, but that's the problem. It involves one of my own. I suspect that Lieutenant Bental is up to more than meets the eye. His recent treatment of Ensign DiMillo might be due to the fact that he's wanting to hide his own actions, but I can't let it stand. Then, just a short time ago, he reported to a briefing when he should still have been in sickbay," Cora paused. "This isn't just a simple or minor infraction, either, and that bothers me because I know what we are all capable of."

"There's still trouble between him and DiMillo? I thought that had been settled," Cass replied. Of course, he'd heard about the sickbay incident, but had left it up to Doctor Fienberg to decide. Not that he didn't have his own private suspicions regarding Lieutenant JG Saul Bental. But then again, Cass didn't miss much.

"Their dislike for each other was pretty clear in our briefing today. But that's not really what concerns me other than my suspicion that he's trying to hide something. I went off to the freighter on that away team and I highly suspect whatever happened occurred somewhere during that time or shortly after. As a department head, I know what assignments I give my people or if they are tasked elsewhere. With him, there are some serious holes that shouldn't be there. He's been acting out of sorts on top of it all. It's like Bental has done something he's not particularly proud of, himself, and doesn't dare say anything even to me more than likely he was told not to."

"That's odd," Cass replied, then glanced down at what he was doing. Grasping the Starfleet emblem on the top of the commbadge, he pulled firmly and it came away from the badge, leaving only the internal electronics. Military grade, but no different from any other communicator. "Do you have any idea what he might be feeling guilty about?"

"The only thing that easily fits into that category is along the lines of assassination. I know Intel is hired for that kind of thing pretty regularly for known threats, but I have a feeling this might be another officer or someone supposedly on the friendly side."

"Do you have evidence? That's a very serious accusation. He could be feeling guilty over something that we'd consider trivial. Maybe he had a one night stand with somebody and she's pissed. That happens too," he shrugged, putting down the communicator's innards and leaning over to rummage around in the bottommost desk drawer, the one that contained the various technical odds and ends that came to a 'former' field agent.

Cora looked at him seriously, "That's why I'm coming to you, sir. Yes, it is a grave accusation, and one I really don't want to have to make..." This time she handed over a PADD with a list of major things that had caught her attention on it then she looked him straight in the eye. "I need someone outside my department to get a solid confirmation on this before we can proceed. All I can say is that I hope I'm wrong. Gut feeling right now says that's wishful thinking."

Cass grabbed the part he wanted, a civilian manufactured communicator housing, and placed it on his desk. He took a moment to look into it. Dobryin's report was brief, but succinct. Lieutenant JG Bental was usually a perfectionist, if not quite to the point of being OCD. Cass had observed as much working with the young man on the Valkyrie. The information on the PADD suggested that he'd been missing doses of medication lately, and being more reclusive within the department, relying exclusively on the secondary intelligence team.

"I'll look into it," Cass replied, snapping the communicator housing over the inner workings of his communicator pin. "Bear in mind that I'm not going to jump to any conclusions regarding whatever is bothering him, but I will look into it."

"I"m not asking you to jump to conclusions, sir. What I do want is an objective opinion from someone who knows Intelligence and can do it properly. If there is indeed something there, we need to know and we need to have a solid case... if it reaches that point. That it is of this magnitude is a very good reason why I've had to learn about it by observation, rather than being directly informed as I should be in most cases."

"And in the meantime, what are you planning to do?" he replied, placing the refitted communicator pin on his desk, next to a picture of himself and his old team from the Respite, during their one brief vacation to a remote forested world. Simone had her arm around him, and the entire team looked happy. That was before the war. ~We're all victims of circumstance,~ he reminded himself.

For a moment Cora looked at the picture then back to Henderson, reflecting for a moment on her own past, "Actually, Commander I was just getting ready to head down to the surface I'm going to be visiting Central Intelligence on Trill."

"Yeah? Who's in charge over here?" he asked, "I haven't been by in a few years."

"A Trill officer by the name of Shayla Mialin. We've met briefly once, earlier in her career before she made full commander. It's been awhile," Cora responded.

"Well, at least the CI building wasn't in the section of Leran Manev that got trashed. Figuring out what happened to the Akula will be considerably easier with SFI's local resources," he nodded. "Keep me updated on what you find out. I'll be dirtside myself, but you can contact me through my commbadge."

"Understood, sir, I'll check in when I have something more," Cora hoped they could get the information they needed and that her suspicions about other things were nothing more than a overactive imagination... but only time would tell on both matters. "Thank you, Commander. I won't keep you any longer, unless you had anything else you need me for. I can be contacted via commbadge as well while I'm planetside."

"Nothing more. You're free to go," he replied, palming the reconstructed communicator with one hand as he stood to offer her the other, "Don't forget to keep your friends closer. It's my job to know what people are thinking, and I have a feeling that this isn't the work of an outsider."

"Yeah, me too, sir. All I can say is watch your back down there," Cora shook his hand. His words hit home all too deeply for her, on more than one level.

"You too, Cora," he nodded, and leaned against the desk until she'd left the room. Once she'd departed, he walked over to where he'd tossed his duffel bag and unzipped it. Dropping the refitted communicator in, he locked the door then pulled the couch out of the way and opened the cabinets concealed behind it. After removing a five-by-one foot black hardwood case he closed the cabinets and replaced the couch. Taking both cases, he locked his office and departed.

"Pieces of the Past"

Commander Shayla Mialin
Chief Intelligence Officer

Central Intelligence, Trill

Shayla Mialin found herself drawn once again to the window in her office. At the time taking SFI's post as Central Intelligence on Trill sounded like an excellent opportunity. Now she had to wonder. Even with the wisdom of Mialin's previous hosts she couldn't bring herself to accept what happened on this day.

"Brez have the latest reports from the worst damaged section of Leran Manev arrived yet?"

An unnerving silence greeted Shayla. She'd done a vast variety of things in her career but intelligence work always seemed to be one constant. "Did he manage to make it in this morning?"

The young officer standing in her doorway looked to be in a state of shock, "No Commander he didn't. Lt Brez was due to check in an hour ago and he hasn't."

Commander Mialin didn't expect to see Lieutenant (jg) McKenna standing there. The fast that she was worried Shayla. "Tanya see what you can find out. At the moment I'm in between meetings and I have a feeling it will be that way for a while. Also I'm expecting the arrival of Lt Dobryin from the USS Galaxy as soon as they make orbit. If she arrives and I'm still occupied feel free to contact me to let me know."

"Pull all the data we have so far and arrange for it to be on my desk when Galaxy arrives. Include any new dada we get even if it hasn't been analized just yet." Shayla wasn't ready to believe her 2IC had been a victim of the tragic events that transpired but she also couldn't ignore that dreadfully sinking feeling which enveloped her.

So many things had changed on Trill since the day she'd been joined many years before. Of all the days to be standing on her home planet's soil yet feeling utterly trapped. Nothing could quench that cold dead void which had formed, noet even the wisdom of generations.

Starfleet had taken her away from Trill for quite a long time. It hurt far worse than a deep knofe wound to see her planet violated, its people decimated. Shayla knew that void would never truly heal.

Ensign Correy Smith,
Flight Contol,
USS Gaaxy

"Home sweet home"

Time: 0530hrs

Correy stood staring wide eyed out of the stations main window. The early morning rise, along with the deployment of a large percentage of the stations personell to the surface, added to the eeriness and lonliness that he was feeling.

The Galaxy, which he could also see out of the window, to his knowledgehad been in orbit for about an hour now. Its late arrival had meant a night camping out on the main promenade for him, Alexia and a few others who were also joining the ship.

He, howver, hadnt taken the oppurtunity overnight to get to know them. Neither had he spoken to Alexia yet, he didnt know how to handle it. It was probably best that he left it for a bit.

His attention was brought back to the Galaxy, a shuttle pod shot out from the large shiip and darted towards the planet. It got him thinking about what he was doing, he could be helping out, flying shuttles, whatever - but not whilst he was stood here staring into space.

He took the final sip of the hot steaming tea that he held between his two hands and then turned to face the rest of his `camping buddies` who still remained asleep on the floor and seats scattered around the main public area.

Placing the cup on the table, he moved over to his small bag and picked it up. He moved on without another look back and made his way to the transport area. The large area shared the same eeriness that the rest of the station did. it took him a while to find a crewman, who when he did, was sitting down behind a small ciewscreen, watching live feeds from the ground.

"Excuse me, I need to be beamed over the the Galaxy..." he stated

Startled, the young crewman notioned him round to a desk "name?"

"Correy Smith, ensign"

"Okay ensign" The man began to tap away at his console. "I'm contacting the Galaxy for slearance" he handed Correy a padd, "here is your transfer record, sign there please"

Correy took the padd with no hesitation and scribbled on the screen with his finger. Handing it back the crewman started again.

"Clearance has been granted from the Galaxy, step onto that pad over there please?"

Picking up his bag again, Correy moved quickly over the the designated transport pad and waited.

"Good day ensign, good luck"

He Materialised beforehe could reply, and instantly found himself in the transporter room of the Galaxy. He took a few seonds to gain his balance and then came into focis. Before him stood a young female "welcome to the Galaxy" she stated "please forgive the welcoming party, most of the crew are down on the surface".

"No problem he stated"

She came from behind the console and handed him a padd. "Here is your quarters assignment, Commander Henderson is beaming down to the surface, so your meeting with him will be put on hold until this all calms down."

Correy smiled "understood, Guess I'll go find my quarters then" he waved the padd that she had just given him.

"Turn left out of here, take the lift to the correct deck, then turn right out of the lift. Its about halfway down the main corridor on the right.... two doors away from mine"

"...Thanks"

With that he left the transporter room and moved down the corridor. ~~Seen one ship, seen them all~~ he thought as he found the lift with ease. Follwoing the directions of the transport officer, he moved towards his quarters and entered with an air of excitement.

BACK POST

(Major back post got lost in the many computer crashes I have had. It was set just before Paradox after Dhani died in Inner Struggle (only for a few minutes though, sorry!!! Lol.) After “Opposites Attract Pt 2” or around that point.)

"Console me "

By Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe

And Counsellor Karyn Dallas

Dhanishta had been trying to kill the time by reading reports, tiding her quarters, polishing her Bat'leth, dusting everything and anything else that came to mind. She had made her bed three times since this morning! But nothing seemed to help. For the past hour she had been staring at the clock. ~ So its come down to this, ~ she thought, ~ clock watching! How pathetic!~

Hours past and she couldn't concentrate on anything except the clock, watching it as the numbers changed. Finally it was time.

Pulling on a jumper she paused to look at herself in the mirror. She looked like a mix match from a jumble sale with one of Chang's old jumpers on. Reluctantly she pulled it off and brushed her hair again.

Within ten minutes she was standing outside the Counsellors office. Her hand wavered over the chime for a moment, and then she pushed it.

Waiting for a response was agonising, but then she was doing this for herself, right? So that she could go back to work. But she didn't want to re hash it out. She didn't want to remember what had happened, the feeling of being…

Even now, weeks after the event, she couldn't even say the words to herself. How was she supposed to tell it to a counsellor?

The doors parted and Karyn ushered Dhani in with a smile. "Hi, come on in." The engineer's unease was tangible, and Karyn knew she would have to get her to relax before they could talk of anything that was truly on her mind.

Dhanishta cast an uneasy eye round the room as she walked in. She stood rigidly one arm across her chest supporting her elbow. Her fingers absently playing with her bottom lip.

"I promise I won't bite." said Karyn, seeing Eshe's continued reluctance. "Why don't you sit down and make yourself comfortable?" she asked, gesturing to the large couch positioned along the back of one wall.

Dhanishta nodded and proceeded to the couch. Sitting down she crossed her legs and sat up straight. Her eyes darted round the room, finally settling on the floor by her own foot.

"You're safe here, Dhani. Just relax and tell me what's on your mind. Would you like something to drink?" She pointed to the replicator.

"That all depends on how long this is going to take." Dhani replied harshly. Looking up at Dallas she sighed, "I'm sorry. I'm just not used to this. I haven't seen a counsellor since my application to the Symbiosis commission was accepted. And even then it was difficult. I was raised by a Vulcan. I'm not used to talking about my feelings and such." She explained, "I'm not used to *feeling* feelings." She admitted quietly.

"And what is it you're feeling, Dhani? Try to put into words for me," encouraged Karyn.

Dhani looked round the room again. Her fingers bounced together as she thought bout how to explain it. The seconds ticked by.

"Everything." She finally concluded.

"That's ok, Dhani, just take a deep breath and talk to me. There aren't any right or wrong answers here."

She stood up abruptly. Again her eyes darted around the room, sighing she strolled over to the replicator. "Icoberry juice." She ordered. Picking the glass up she rapped her fingernails against it. Leaning against the wall she looked over at Dallas and took a swig.

"Feel better?" asked Karyn with a gentle smile.

Taking a deep breath she wandered back over to the other side of the room. Lazily she looked around, trying to be enthused and interested about what she saw. This side of the room was darker. The shadows were slightly comforting. Leaning against the wall she let herself slide down it till she was sitting on the floor, setting the glass down she stared into its contents.

Little beads of condensation slid down the glass, forming a ring on the floor. The liquids surface rippled as she swirled its contents, "I remember what it was like." She stated not taking her eyes off the glass.

"Like to what?"

"To die."

Karyn nodded, and gently prodded, "Tell me about it."

"I remember how it felt, I remember... Everything." She trailed off.

The glass before her blurred slightly, replaced by the imagery; stars sparkled, twinkled around her. She could feel their energy. She could sense every living thing; every plant, every fly, every animal that walked on every planet. She could feel the gravitational pull of the solar systems, the tides and the earth from countless planets that she had yet to explore. It was beautiful, more than that it was amazing. Everywhere she looked she could see the stars, she was surrounded by them. Maybe she was one but she couldn't tell. She couldn't feel her body anymore as it had been before, just the universe and its infinite beauty. She shocked herself into taking a breath, shakily she reached for her glass, hoping to swallow the feelings and the memories.

Karyn grew slightly alarmed, but knew not to panic. Instead allowing Dhani to reach for the glass, Karyn took her hand. "What is it?"

Dhanis eyes snapped and locked on to Karyns,

"I hate it" she said her eyes welling up.

"The feelings." She explained. "The anger I have towards everything and everyone." Her gaze was piercing, her eyes seemed to darken as the anger she spoke of coiled inside her. "I'm angry at the doctors for saving my life! Can you believe that?" she questioned with a hysterical laugh. Her facial expression returned to a sullen look within a split second, as she continued with clenched teeth,

"I'm angry at Michael for following me and finding me. I'm angry because I'm alive. I'm angry because I'm angry. Vulcan logic doesn't harbour anger, Councillor, nor does it have room for guilt, remorse, loss, pain or sorrow." She pulled her hand away from the Counsellors.

"I'm sad." She stated her brow furrowing. Turning away she got up and walked to the other side of the room, talking about this was hard and something inside her told her that this was only the beginning. Soon Karyn would be asking her about her child hood and her parents - wow, that would be fun, NOT! Leaning against the wall with one hand, her back towards the counsellor, her glass in the other hand, she ploughed on, "I feel like there is this hole inside me. This gaping wound. When I ... died it was," she paused trying to think of the best way to describe it, "wonderful." She turned to look at Karyn. She wasn't sure whether she was making any sense, whether Karyn would understand, and she found it strange herself that she would be describing death with such high praise.

"In what way was it wonderful?" asked Karyn, obviously somewhat confused, but not at all disgusted or concerned for Dhani's sanity.

Dhani was slightly shocked at Karyns question, she had not expected her to ask what it was like. For a moment she just stood there looking at Karyn as she tried to think. Emptying her drink she wandered over to the replicator and placed the glass inside it. She watched the glass till it dematerialised and then turned back to look at Karyn, "I could feel everything," she started, "I could go anywhere and do anything. I saw everything, and the feeling was," she sighed, "amazing." Her eyes glazed over as she continued, "It didn't matter that I was dead, it didn't matter what I had done, achieved or not achieved. There was no judgment, no sorrow or pain. Just this feeling of security, love and happiness." Blinking back the tears she looked up into Karyns eyes, "I felt like I was finally home." She concluded.

Karyn took a moment to consider all that Eshe had said. Thus far it was the most she had been able to reveal at this point about her experiences, and while Karyn was still perplexed by them, what concerned her more was Dhani's current state of mind.

"And you haven't felt that sense of peace here?" There was no judgement in the question, merely vague understanding. Perhaps the reason Dhani longed to return to the state she called death was simply because it was such a stark contrast to the life she had to "come back" to. And that was the reality. Whatever happened, Dhani was going to have to learn to live her life on Galaxy, and it was Karyn's responsibility to make sure Dhani was emotionally healthy.

"Peace?" Dhani half questioned. She repeated the word again, "Peace," slowly mulling over the word. She knew what Karyn was getting at,

"I don't have a death wish." She told her slowly, "All I wanted was to go to sleep." She said without thinking. ~ And the truth shall set you free. ~ a little voice inside her mocked. ~Bollocks!~ she screamed at herself, ~Okay, just wait for it. Childhood and parents coming up, just give it five minutes or so. Wanna wager on that?~ Dhanishta sat back in the chair and waited.

"But you still want to go back there...a part of you still feels that way?"

"No!" Dhani said quickly, "I mean, I." she paused not quite sure what she meant. "I haven't felt 'at home' anywhere. Not hear, not Qo'noS not on Trill. The only place that has ever come close to being home for me was Vulcan, where I grew up. But even Vulcan doesn't compare to how it felt, how I felt then, there." She was getting jumbled a little but ploughed on anyway, "That sense of peace I felt, I, oh I don't know." she confused her self now. Trying desperately to explain, "All I wanted was to go to sleep." She repeated dejectedly, "That's all. I just wanted to sleep. I didn't want to die, I didn't try to kill my self. I just wanted to sleep." She began to bite on her bottom lip.

"And perhaps a cigar is just a cigar," mused Karyn. Upon seeing Dhani's confusion she clarified, "Maybe it isn't worth analysing right now. I'm satisfied you're not suicidal, and I know you're not mentally ill. But I am happy to listen and help you to make sense of where you might want to go from here."

“I just..” Dhani paused, maybe it was too quick an answer but she knew what she wanted,

“I just want to go back to work!” she said sighing.

Dallas was not one to torture people with boredom, but until she knew more about what had happened to Dhani, she was reluctant to pile on the stress.

"I don't want to over-tax you..."

“What?” Dhani asked a little confused. Her head began to feel a little hot, she could feel herself tremble inside as she waited for those words to spill out of the counsellors mouth. She was going to sign her off duty wasn’t she? How could she? HOW COULD SHE? She had no right! She was here talking, doing everything that she was told to do, sharing her feelings. How pathetic, how Terran! And what was she getting from it all…..Nothing. The counsellor was going to stop her from doing the one thing she loved, the reason she was alive. What was the point in it all? What was the point in telling someone how you felt when they were just going to penalise you for it? ‘There were no right or wrong answers here’, was what the counsellor had said. What a load of bollocks. There was obliviously a right and wrong answer, and she had given the wrong one. What was the point in coming back? To be alive? Well it just sucked! How dare she! To seduce her with words of comfort, to lie to her to get her to open up, and for what? This Karyn was deceitful!

Back Post

(Set after "The Bigger Breakfast)

"Nothing will stop me."

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe - Engineer.

*USS Galaxy A deck 8 crew quarters*

It had been a week since Dhani had 'exorcised' Naut, and she was still in therapy! At first she was annoyed that the counselling department had palmed her off with some newbie. But she had come round when she realised that it meant she could lie with ease, Dallas would have seen right through the 'species specific ritual' bulshit.

But still even with the pup, wet behind the ears, she wasn't yet back on the active duty list. Not even light duty. And at this point she would take ANYTHING. She had even gone so far as to asking her friends for things to do. Holo credits had run out, the gym had worn out and boredom itself had got bored.

~To hell with them~ Dhani thought as she pulled on her duty jacket, ~I am going to work no matter what anyone says. I have had enough of sitting here recuperating from death, and Naut, and all the other crap!~ zipping up her jacket she took a look in the mirror, ~I'm missing something….what is it....what is it?~ she questioned.

"Oh." She exclaimed out loud. She turned quickly as if lightning had struck and half ran to her desk.

After rummaging around in every draw, cause things are never where you though you left them, she pulled out her Com. badge and rank insignia. It had been that long since she had put on her uniform that she hesitated and returned to the mirror before attaching them. It used to be second nature getting ready for work, but for the past few months she had been wearing baggy cotton pants and stringy vests. She was going to have to get used to wearing her uniform all over again, somehow it lacked the excitement of the first time round!

She stood for a moment wondering how to style her hair, grabbing the brush she combed it through and tied it up. And then took it out and platted it. And then took it out and twisted it into a French twist. Shaking her head she threw the brush across the room, 'that's enough' she chided herself. It was like her fist day all over again, wanting to look her best to impress.

After one last mirror check she left her quarters and made her way down the corridor to the turbo lift. As she called out her destination she took out the French twist and smoothed her hair out, tying it into a low ponytail.

As the lift doors opened she made her way quickly to Engineering and then made a bee line for the jobs board, grabbing a data padd she noted down several jobs and then began the hunt for her tool kit.

"He-hey, welcome back." Jiiles exclaimed with both surprise and happiness as he watched Dhani rummage around.

It was strange how one became so attached to a tool kit. She opened it up lovingly and checked the contents. Her fingers lightly toughing each tool, as if she were saying 'hello' and 'sorry' to each one. Realising her elongated re-familiarisation with her tool kit was a bit obsessive she turned and looked up at Jiiles.

"Hi." She replied meekly.

"I didn't realise you were back." He began, "I didn't see your name on the roster." He was glad that she was back if not surprised. He knew some bits of what had been going on but was yet to get the full brief, and something told him that he never would. That was unless he managed to get her extremely drunk to the point where she would spill everything and anything. But that would never happen. He knew that he wouldn't be able to keep up, she had grown up on Qon'oS and he had already heard how she could drink Klingons under the table, he wouldn't stand a chance!

Dhani took a deep breath to prepare her self for the oncoming barrage of questions and chastising that she would receive from him, after all he was her superior.

"You didn't see my name on the list because I'm not on it." She replied solemnly.

"Huh!" he replied as his brow furrowed, "So.. Did Suder call you in or something?" he questioned.

"No…. No he didn't." she said, "No one did." She added knowing where his line of questioning was going. She hesitated somewhat wondering if she should lay her cards out or leave and let him keep guessing. At least if she left then she wouldn't be around when he realised that she hadn't been signed back on to the active list by the doctors, and then she would miss out on the telling off, and the butt kicking out of engineering, pity! Picking up her tool kit she hoisted the strap over her head and shifted the kit round to the back of her left thigh. As casually as she could she picked up a data padd and began to transpose jobs from the board on to it. She noted quite a lot down, enough things to keep her out of engineering for as long as possible.

Jiiles scratched his bald blue head and continued to stare at Dhani with a puzzled expression.

She gave him a small smile, and turned to leave thinking that she had got away with it.

"Hold on a minuet." Jiiles said reaching out and grabbing Dhanis arm.

~Dam it~ Dhani thought as she turned back, presenting him with the warmest smile she could muster and a raised eyebrow or two,

"What?" she questioned with much innocence.

"If Suder didn't call you down here to work, and you're not on the duty roster, what are you doing here?" he questioned in a firm authoritive tone.

"To work." she replied, again flashing an innocent, butter wouldn't melt in my mouth look.

"Dhani," Jiiles paused, mentally kicking himself for being over familiar,

"Lieutenant." he restarted.

~Dam~ Dhani cursed, ~the Lieutenant speech, never a good sign.~

"have you actually been reinstated on the active duty list?" he asked.

Her eyes flashed back and forth across the room for a moment or two as she regarded the punishment for lying,

"Sure." She replied. She waited all but a second before deciding the conversation was finished and turned to leave once more. But Jiiles wasn't satisfied, and her eagerness to leave was too suspicious to go unnoticed,

"So if I call up Counsellor Dallas and ask her, she will tell me that you're fit for duty? Is that correct Lieutenant?" he asked as he followed behind her.

Dhani stopped, frowning ~cards on table time~ she realised.

"I do not know what she will tell you. As I am not her."

Delay tactics, Jiiles was all but certain now that she was lying and covering up. He said nothing just stood, staring at her, waiting.

Dhani rolled her eyes, knowing that she should back down now, but didn't. She had had enough, and no matter what he said or did she was going to work. No mater what!

After a long pause Jiiles continued, knowing now for sure that she had not been assessed by the counselling department as fit to return to work, "Lieutenant Eshe, I must ask you to leave engineering. If you leave now, quietly and with out a fuss, I will see no reason to bring this up with you or anyone else again. Do you understand?"

"I am leaving." She replied coldly.

He nodded towards her tool kit, "Please put down the kit and data padd and return to your quarters."

"No." She took a step back towards the door.

"I am your superior officer and I have given you a direct order Lieutenant," his voice rose slightly, though not enough to incur attention from those in engineering.

Dhani looked at him, her dark green eyes aflame with anger and defiance.

"I am going to work. Neither you nor anyone else will be able to stop me. I don't care if you come and check up on every little thing I do, but you are not going to stop me. I will not return my kit nor will I return to my quarters. I am going to work, got it?" She decided that was a good time for her classic dramatic departure. That was something she would be remembered for on the Galaxy after she was transferred to some garbage scouring ship, she was sure of it!

Jiiles stood in the open doorway his arms folded across his chest and watched her leave. Sometimes he wondered how she made it into Starfleet with her blatant disregard for protocol and regulations. She can't have always been like this, surely. He took a moment to ponder the series of events that could have possibly aroused to change her from a hard working rule abiding officer to what she was today. And what exactly was she? She still worked harder than most but her attitude; it lacked a lot to be desired. What happened to change her? Shaking his head he returned to the depths of engineering and grabbed a padd. He had no choice but to write a report on the exchange, her attitude her disregard for the chain of command and her disobeying orders. He sighed as he completed his report, wondering if he could get away with accidentally loosing it. He had a soft spot for the Lieutenant and wanted to help, not hinder her. His thoughts were disturbed when he heard a familiar if yet a somewhat unfamiliar chirpy tone in the voice of his commanding officer as he greeted him with a far more than usual over zealous, "Good morning". Jiiles smiled at Suder and followed him towards his office. Maybe he could ask Ethan to lose the report. Nobody else had heard the exchange, maybe he could forget about it. But then it would be his ass on the line when Ethan found out Eshe was back. Poking his head round the door he waited a moment for Suder to notice him while his thumb non-accidentally pressed the delete button on the padd,

"Can I have a word Chief?"

Suder motioned him in and the doors swished quietly behind Jiiles as he entered.

Back Post

"He's gone"

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe - Engineer

(This is set some time after "Nothing will stop me". These two posts, “He’s Gone” and “The Last Message”, are a tribute to my dear friend Martin who played Michael McDowell. He was, and still is, an amazing writer. A huge loss to the Galaxy, I’m sure those that knew him will agree. He was my characters friend and he still is my friend, has helped me through a hell of a lot. There are no words to describe just how much he means to me. Love him to bits. Martin it almost made ya cry once, here’s hoping that it will move the others that knew/know him.)

Dhani wiped the sweat off her brow, which actually did nothing except smudge a line of dirt across it, the sweat continued to ooze out of every pore across her body. Working in the Jefferies tubes wasn't too bad, but after several hours it did begin to get claustrophobic, and more than that it just got hot and sticky and uncomfortable.

She had pulled yet another triple shift, and had done so going purposely unnoticed. Seeing as she couldn't sleep from insomnia and the sedatives hadn't worked she had found a form of meditation that provided all the benefits of sleep without the draw backs of nightmares and the like. It had been so long since she had dreamed she had forgotten how awful they could be. And what was more useful was that she only needed four hours of meditation during a normal twenty six hour day. She had spent several months off work and so had used the Galaxy's facilities in that time so much that she really didn't want any more R&R time. So all she did was work and meditate. She had become so used to the tubes that she was quite comfortable to meditate where she was.

And that was how Lieutenant Jason found her; sitting cross legged, her back straight against the wall of the tube, her hands resting on her knees and her eyes closed. As he moved along in the tight space, trying desperately not to spill the hot steaming beverages he paused to look up. His thoughts were confirmed as he saw her sitting, unmoving. He had figured in his own mind what was troubling Eshe, it was the same thing he believed to be troubling the Chief, Suder. He sighed and proceeded along the tube till he reached her and then took a pew as it were.

"Hey." He said breaking the silence, "I brought you some coffee. Thought you could use some."

Dhani turned to face him. It took a while for her to recognise that he wasn't part of her meditation, and then another few seconds for her to release her mind and bring herself back to the plain the rest of the ship inhabited. She replied with a cold look.

"Look," he started launching into it, "I know why you're here. Alone. I know." He paused for a moment trying to gauge her reaction. Wondering if he should have taken the softly, softly approach as he was coached to do.

She took the mug from him with a confused look across her face as he continued.

"I know why you're here," he said again, "and I know why you and Suder are upset. I don't blame you. But sitting alone won't help. You have friends here, we can help. You don't have to shut us out just because he's gone."

Dhani remained still upgrading the confused look to a puzzled one. What was he talking about? He knew what exactly? That she never slept?

"I know that you and Suder throw yourself into work when there's a problem. And I also know what that problem is."

She scratched her head and took a sip of the rapidly cooling coffee. Placing the drink on the deck she turned to face him fully,

"What are you talking about Jason?" she finally asked.

He gave her a look, one that said 'do I really have to spell it out'. She nodded, urging him to continue.

"Look I know how you felt about Michael." He said with sympathy.

"How I feel about Michael?" she repeated as a question.

"Yes." He replied plainly.

She cleared her throat, "So tell me then. How do I feel about Michael?"

"Well you know.." he said sipping his coffee like he was too embarrassed to say the words.

Raising her eyebrows she stared at him and folded her arms.

"Look don't be offended, we all know."

"Know what?" she replied getting frustrated, why can't people just say what they mean instead of beating around the bush?

"That you two were.. Best friends." He replied stuttering slightly, she could be quite intimidating at times. Why did he draw the short straw and have to come and see her? But then Jiiles had 'pulled' Suder, so he supposed that they were even. Jiiles was more intimidated by Suder than he was, and vice versa when it came to Dhani. Most likely because Jiiles had a crush on Dhani. With Michael gone he might just have a chance with her now.

Dhani was beginning to get tired of him; she sighed and turned her back to him,

"So what?" she said as she began to gather her tools up and place them back in her kit. "So me and Lieutenant McDowell are good friends, what's that got to do with you?"

"I know it's not easy to lose someone that your close to." He said his eyes scanning the floor beneath him.

Dhani sighed once more; she turned back to him brandishing a sonic screwdriver, "For the last time Jason. What the hell are you stuttering about?" As she spoke she wagged to tool up and down.

He watched the screwdriver, wondering if she was planning to do anything else with it except wave it around. He drew in a long breath,

"What I'm trying to say is that I know it hurts. That Michael is gone but burying your self in work won't change that. I want you to know that we are here for you, and Suder. Michael was close to both of you." He cringed slightly as he finished. He wasn't sure if the rumour that she broke someone's nose during a seemingly nice conversation was true or not, and the other that she was fit for duty, well he wasn't sure on that either.

"Michael's gone?" Dhani questioned. "Gone where?" he had her full attention now, and she was still confused. She hadn't a clue what he was blabbering about, but when it concerned a good friend, well she was listening.

"Michael left." Jason replied. It was his turn to look confused now.

"Left what?" Dhani just wasn't getting her head round what he was saying. It would have helped if he could fill in a bit more instead of being so vague. She hated that.

"Dhani, he left the ship, left Starfleet. For good." He shook his head. "I thought you knew that. That's why you're here on your own, brooding. At least that's what we thought." He shrugged his shoulders still shaking his head slightly, he was flummoxed now.

Dhani tilted her head and went to speak again but stopped. Her brow knitted together as her eyes moved from side to side, like she was reading some invisible book, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

"Gone?" she questioned again after a few minutes.

"Michael left the ship. He resigned his commission from Starfleet and left." Jason replied plainly.

Dhani's heart leapt into her mouth, his words finally sinking in, she threw the sonic screwdriver back into the box, not caring where it landed, in its exact place or not she couldn't give a dam. She had to talk to Michael. It didn't make any sense, why how for what? Her head felt stuffed and her heart began to race. She could feel the hairs on her arms standing up, her stomach knotted pangs of pain bouncing off the inside of her stomach wall. He couldn't leave... they were... They were friends, just friends. But they might, they could have....It hit her right between the eyes. After a few seconds of tool stuffing she picked up her kit and half threw it at Jason,

"Look after that." she mumbled. Setting the coffee down she turned quickly and crawled down the tube to the access tunnels.

"Dhani what are you doing?" Jason called after her still fumbling with her kit.

"I have to talk to Michael, I have to tell him something." she shouted back down the tube.

She was a fast mover, Jason had to give her that. She was at the end of the tube before he had time to slide her kit on his shoulder and gather up the mugs. He began to follow her, trying to keep up the pace but with two cups of coffee it was a slow task. As he reached the ladder he looked down and called out,

"Dhani?"

There was no reply, just his own voice echoing round the tunnel,

"Dhani he's gone." He called out. Sitting by the opening, his legs dangling down, a sorrowful look crossed his face as he stared on listening to the sound of his own voice as it reverb off the walls.. He knew, they all knew. Why was it that the people that it concerned were always the last to know?

Back post

"The last message"

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe, engineer

(Set straight after "He's gone". These two posts, “He’s Gone” and “The Last Message”, are a tribute to my dear friend Martin who played Michael McDowell. He was, and still is, an amazing writer. A huge loss to the Galaxy, I’m sure those that knew him will agree. He was my characters friend and he still is my friend, has helped me through a hell of a lot. There are no words to describe just how much he means to me. Love him to bits. Martin it almost made ya cry once, here’s hoping that it will move the others that knew/know him.))

It felt like everything was in slow motion, as if she were trapped in some nightmare where you try to run yet your feet are lead and refuse to move properly. She ran down the halls, watching the walls as they flowed past her ever so slowly. The corridors that she knew so well felt alien at that moment, as she rounded the corner, the door to his quarters; unfamiliar and hollow. Her palm pressed up against the door chime as she lent on it for support her chest rising and falling, fast and furious like waves crashing against jagged rocks.

The door opened. No comfort came from the sound it made this time. The emptiness of the room shocked her into silence, "Michael?" she whispered.

Her voice echoed against the barren walls. The whole place had been stripped. There was nothing. Like every trace of the man she knew had been bleached. This blank canvas, the grey Starfleet monotone walls, the regulation couch; desk and glass top table was all that was left.

Slowly she stepped into the darkened room, afraid to turn on the lights. She could see enough to know that he was gone. With the lights on the bleakness of this once vibrant apartment would be just too much. As the doors closed behind her shutting out the remaining light she felt the cold. The bitterness of his absence. Standing in the middle of his living room she gasped, hands over her mouth, as if that would stop the tears that fell.

"Computer." She half whispered. She shook her head as the words tumbled out of her mouth, already knowing the answer,

"Locate Lieutenant Michael McDowell."

[-"Lieutenant McDowell is not on board."-] replied the computer in its most unsympathetic tone.

"When." Dhani choked on her tears, "when did.." She paused to let out a slight wail, "he leave?"

[-"Please restate question."-]

"When did he bloody leave?" Dhani shouted, her entire body vibrating with a burst of anger.

"Last night." A low voice rumbled out of the darkness. Dhani jumped. Her tears stopped as she wiped her eyes and scanned the shadows for the voice.

"Who's there?" she whispered shakily.

Ethan cleared his throat and took a step out from the bedroom door way, "It’s me Dhani." He said softly. His tear stricken face was hidden by the shadows, only his torso could be seen from the soft light that caressed the apartment.

"What are you ..." Dhani broke off, as she realised what he had said. She took several steps towards him.

"You knew and you didn't tell me?" she asked her voice uneven and hoarse. She didn't wait for him to answer,

"You bloody knew!!!" she shouted, the anger creasing up her body.

"Dhani…” Ethan started shifting the box under his arm on to his hip.

Dhani cut him off, "Of all the." she was so tempted to smack him, how could he? He didn't tell her, Michael was her friend the only one that ever.. She scowled her face contorting between anger and pain, ".. He was my friend too you know. You didn't tell me. You bastered!"

She took another step towards him, her hand outstretched, wanting to slap him, wanting to pull him apart. She bobbed before him and then backed stepped and left the room half running. She couldn't hit Suder, not again, he was her boss.

Later she would be amazed at the control she had just exercised by not lashing out. But now she stalked through the corridors. Not knowing where to go. Was she still on duty? She didn't know. As she passed the occasional familiar face she smiled and pretended that life was great. But it wasn't, nothing was right. Why didn't he tell her?

She ended up at her own quarters as the door closed behind her she crumpled, tears streamed down her face, as she realised just how she felt, what she had lost.

"Michael, why?" she cried out through her sobs.

"Oh this is silly." She told herself as Salem nudged her arm, "pull it together." Standing up she dried her eyes, a faint glow from her computer illuminated her desk. Rubbing her forehead she took a step towards it. Wondering what the hell it was. Sometimes she could be so dumb, it was a message. She scrambled to her desk and sat down. Her heart leapt into her mouth as she read the details; From Lieutenant Michael McDowell, audio only.

It took about ten minutes before Dhani pressed the play button. Did she want to hear this? Could she even think why he left? If she didn't know something was wrong how good a friend was she. As her finger pushed the button as a tear slid down her cheek. ["Hello Dhani,"] As Michaels voice filled her quarters she sat back and stared into space,

["I know, this is kind of strange sending you this message, but I need to tell you something...about some changes. It's nothing to worry about,...just that things will not be quite the same again after you've received this message."] There was a pause. Dhani could hear the background noise as he obviously pondered how to tell her what was going on,

["Dhani,...I'm leaving the ship and I won't be coming back. What I mean is, I'm leaving Starfleet altogether. No doubt you'll be thinking that I've gone crazy. Well,...I don't know, maybe I have. But, you see, there are some loose ends in my life that I've left unattended for far too long. For years I carried it with me...trying to let the past be the past, trying to go on with my life. But that doesn't work, I know that now. ...I want my old life back, but for that to happen I must go back..."] his nervous laugh echoed through the recording, Dhani could almost see his face. He was giving too much away, she could tell by the laugh.

["What am I saying?"] that confirmed it. Dhani sat up straight something was going on, how did she not know?

["I'm beginning to sound like an old man reminiscing about old times. Not at all like me, huh? All that talking... You know me, I wasn't very talkative...except when among real friends and when we two were together. But that's different."]

Her fingers lightly stroked the computer, a substitute for him as his silence pained her,

["You know Dhani,...I never said it, but I really liked those dinners we had together. I...I'm going to miss that. I wish I could stay longer, leave it all behind me...just forget it all. Who knows..."]

Her heart skipped, and her face fell. Did he ever feel the same way? Did he know? She didn't. Maybe it's just the sudden loss that was making her feel this way.

Michaels voice was hoarse as he started again, ["Yep...story of my life. Anyway,...I should be going. Take care Dhani. And please, don't do anything foolish, alright? Don't get wounded, or get in any kind of trouble...because I want to see you again someday, somewhere...sometime......... See you around Lieutenant..."]

Dhani sat as still as a rock, waiting, hoping that there was more. Not realising that she hadn't stopped crying once. Would he ever realise that things could never be as they once were. The past was, and would always be just that, the past. He would never find what he was looking for. Things would never be the same. He was right about that. Her chest felt heavy, all of her felt heavy. She sat in the dark for a long time, listening to the static of the recording, her fingers still stroking the desk.

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