"Back Aboard"

Lt. Commander Brianna "Anna" O'Shea, Chief Engineer / Liaison SCE
Ensign Paulo DiMillo, Intelligence Officer
Ensign Marcus Slayton, Engineering Officer

Paulo stood in the shuttle bay and watched as Anna's shuttle touched down. He had yet to tell her that her father had made a visit while she was gone, but she would know within the next few moments. Once the shuttle was touched down, the ramp opened and Anna was first at the ramp smiling. When she heard Paulo she smiled.

Paulo walked up to the two love birds. "I hope you had a good trip," Paulo said.

"Hey... it was good." She said, then looked at Marcus and then back to Paulo. "Marc... this is Paulo.. my brother." Anna said. "Paulo, this is Marc... my... fiancée."

"Nice to meet you," Paulo replied shaking Marc's hand.

Marcus looked at Paulo for a second and then shakes the younger man's hand. Marcus said with an easy smile "good to meet you, Paulo."

Paulo then looked back over to Anna, "your dad stopped by," Paulo said flat out.

"What?" Anna asked, surprised, and wondering why exactly he was here. "I didn't tell him about you, but the look on your face tells me he now knows."

"Yeah, he knows. He thought I was trying to blackmail him!" Paulo then thought for a few seconds, in retrospect it wouldn't have been a bad idea... "I think he is still on his way to earth."

Marcus crossed his arms over his chest and looked thoughtfully for a second. "I can understand that, My dad did mention that there was a chance that Commander O'Shea was possibly going to be pulled in to help with the Trill Recovery Effort." Marcus explained and then he got a big smile on his face as he stepped between his fiancée and his future brother-in-law and said simply "How about this, lunch or dinner first, just the four of us which is myself, you two and Peckerwood and then we can figure out what to do next? Good idea?"Marcus asked hoping to lighten the mood soon and hoping to also get to know a future family member a little better.

"Starfleet must have called him out of retirement to help out then, cause he was retired." Anna said, then thought about what Marc suggested. "Not that hungry, but if you two are, then I'll go with you. I need to check in with my department to."

"Dinner would work better for me, Cora has be working on a new assignment and I should be hearing back from someone pretty soon," Paulo replied.

"Okay.. so dinner tonight. Come to my quarters and we can eat there... I'll cook something." Anna said. "Give me a chance to check in with my people, let everyone know I'm back." She said, then hugged Paulo, having slowly fallen into the sister role with him.

Paulo hugged her back, "till tonight."

Brianna watched Paulo leave, then picked up her dog and looked at Marcus. "Lets go drop him off and then I need to check in with my people... you need to check in with your boss and tell her your back." She said, then snickered since she was his boss. Heading out of the bay, they headed for her quarters to drop off her dog.

"Problems To Deal With; Whether You Like It Or Not"

Commander Karyn Dallas, RN, Chief Counselor/Second Officer
Ensign Nara Sol Roswell, Engineer

***

Commander Karyn Dallas' Office

Karyn sighed and resisted the urge to drag her chair across her office carpet for the fifth time in ten minutes. Lee's words echoed in her ears. "I was led to believe you were somewhat of a specialist in these matters." If he only knew. She'd agreed to see Nara for what she believed at the time to be purely professional reasons. When she had agreed to talk to someone to sort out her own unfinished business, she promised herself her life was not going to stop simply because she was asking for help. Was she in denial?

The truth was, she *was* an expert when it came to problems of this nature. Having survived an abusive childhood, personal insight was the one good thing she could say she'd gotten out of it. But she also knew the brass at HQ would kill her if they knew she was continuing to see clients with these problems given her own struggles as of late. The same would be true of Counselor Sabriel as well. The young counselor had been invaluable to her, and although they had a lot to work through, Dallas found herself relieved to finally have chosen a direction for her life.

The door chimed, and Karyn shrugged. It was easier to ask for forgiveness than it was to ask for permission. "Come in," she called.

With the recent events, Nara had almost forgotten about this situation she needed to take care of. The same dread came over her. She knew the price, but she just wondered exactly how many people she would have to talk to before this was settled.

She walked in and started talking, "Just to let you know, I'm really over the whole thing. I'm simply here to confirm it so Professor Marks can be put to justice. I honestly don't have any issues to deal with."

She paused and, "Oh. I'm Nara. Thanks for seeing me." With that, she sat in a chair and crossed her legs.

Karyn wasn't exactly sure what to expect from this appointment, but this particular greeting decidedly wasn't even in her realm of possibilities. She wasn't expecting the engineer to state her intentions so boldly, but instead expected her body language to speak for her. The "I'm ok-you're ok" stare was universal across all races. "Hi, Nara," Dallas greeted, "I'm Karyn Dallas. It was no problem for me to see you, and in fact I'm happy to help." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "In fact, I should be thanking you. I realize it can't be easy talking about what you went through."

Nara looked at her a moment. "I understand I have to do what I have to do." She kept that brave facade. Inside she was thinking, ~Just tell me you're the last person I have to tell.~

Karyn frowned. "But that's just it, Nara. You don't have to do anything, not if you don't want to press charges. As counselors, Lee and I can't reveal what you've reported without your permission and I believe the Captain will respect your wishes on the matter. The only thing we care about is helping you to deal with this memory now that it has surfaced. Lee thought perhaps you'd feel more comfortable talking to another woman about it, and I've had some experience working with people who have experienced this kind of trauma. Are you really over it, Nara?"

Nara sighed, "Yes, I do have to do something. If we want to make sure he doesn't do it again. It's not even about being over it. It's about justice. I'm functioning just fine. I have a few friends and work is going well."

"I just need to make sure you know what you're getting into, Nara. Don't get me wrong, you should report him if that's what you think is right, and I will help you any way I can, but you're going to have to re-tell and re-live everything that man did to you, in front of perfect strangers who will be inclined to doubt you rather than a well respected professor whom you are accusing years after the crime. Even if he goes to prison, Nara, it still doesn't change what happened to you. There's no shame in needing to talk to someone about this."

Nara leaned forward. "I shared parts of that memory with at least two people. Possibly others I don't know; through the whole memory jumping thing. I can show you telepathically what happened to me. Not much to doubt in that."

Karyn frowned suddenly, realizing she might be giving an impression she didn't want to give. "I believe you, Nara, absolutely. But I imagine coming to realize this memory was an awful shock. Lee told me you had no memory of this event before. Is that why you sought his help?"

Nara sighed, "I didn't really seek help as in I need therapy. I sought help because I was told you could file it as evidence against Professor Marks."

Karyn took that in for a moment and focused her attention on what was barely said. "Do you want therapy?"

"I don't believe I need it." Nara's eyes looked down. She wasn't sure she believed it. She FELT fine. But was she?

Karyn leaned forward slightly. "And what would it mean to you if you did need therapy, Nara?"

Nara shrugged, "I'm functioning just fine as it is."

Karyn frowned, unsure of how to approach this because she knew what it was like to be on the other side. "You didn't answer my question, Nara. What would it mean to you if you did need therapy? Do you think you could ask for help? Please understand, I'm not trying to tell you you're incapable of knowing your own mind, I just...I would like you to know that...it's ok to feel overwhelmed. It's ok to ask for help."

Nara looked at her and shrugged, "As far as I know, I'm fine. If I'm in denial then I got it real bad because I'm not seeing where this would have affected me."

"Maybe it hasn't," Karyn allowed. "But if you thought it did, would you ask for help? I imagine this is going to get uglier before it gets better."

Nara sighed, "To be honest, even since the memory came back, I've ignored it. No point in really letting it haunt me."

"And how's that working for you?"

Nara smirked, "Fine, actually." She wanted to laugh now. If there WERE some subconscious, deeper level that she had to deal with, she couldn't find it and she doubted this counselor could. "Commander, let's cut to the chase. I think I'm fine. You're trying to prove otherwise. If I'm not, I don't know how these questions will bring any issues up."

"They won't," Karyn replied, "not if there's nothing for you or I to be concerned about. As I said before, my job is not to give you problems, but to be an objective observer. You've realized a pretty traumatic event. I just wanted to be sure you're doing ok."

She sighed, "And If I felt I did need therapy, to be honest." She looked up at the woman, "And this doesn't change the fact that I don't think that I do." She looked back down, "I honestly don't think I would seek help." Nara took a deep breath and leaned back, "My mother's a counselor and I know you guys are trained to delve deep into people's minds and emotions. I'm just not comfortable with someone knowing me that well besides people I choose."

Karyn raised a hand. "That, I completely understand, believe me. So you have other people you can talk to if need be?"

"I first told Dr. Feinberg." Nara wasn't sure he would count though. She wanted to keep a safe distance considering he was married. Though their relationship was far from that--it was more like he was her uncle--rumors start like wild fire.

She sighed, "No one I would really want to get in detail about it with. The one person I got in depth with it about is on the Miranda." Nara brought a leg up and hugged it missing Cernu suddenly. She missed the serenity of Verlu. Facing it there felt safe. Facing it here made her feel vulnerable. "Besides Counselor Lee and the Captain of course. They saw the memory." Still no one she could talk with about it.

She stood and paced, "What good would talking do? Let's just get him punished and I think I'll be done with this whole thing." She was getting very uncomfortable.

"You think? You seem to be very angry, Nara, and you don't appear to have anybody to talk to about it. Can you understand why that would concern me? You have Saia to think about."

Nara sighed and looked at her. "Exactly! You'd think in this day and age we'd be safe! But we're NOT! It's people like HIM I need to protect her from! We saved her from some madman crashing his ship on her home, only that she's orphaned! I would feel a whole lot safer and feel she is safer if he were locked away!"

Nara calmed down realizing her voice had raised and her emotions came out. She sat down feeling tired. She spoke more calmly, "I've been in war, I've been tortured for information. Why is this memory what troubles me?" She sighed, "Well it didn't till I had to talk about it." She pouted and gulped holding back tears.

She tried to keep a solid face, "Just tell me I have a case, counselor and I'll be on my way."

Karyn leaned forward and folded her hands, considering all that had been said. "I'm not a lawyer, Nara, but we won't do anything to keep you from pursuing this, and speaking personally, I'll do whatever I can to make sure that whomever can handle the legal aspects of this will sit up and take notice. Whatever happens, I want you to know I believe you, and I hope you and I can continue to talk. You're dealing with a lot right now, and it might help in long run to talk about it."

Nara nodded her appreciation. If anything, this darned meeting gave her things to think about. Things she really didn't want to think about. But it was time to go. After telling Dallas, she would come back--sometime, Nara left. She hadn't intended to blow up like she had, and it ticked her off that it just proved Dallas' point.

"Baile and the Blue Furie"

1Lt. T'Shani a'Akledorian Furies Detachment CO

2Lt. Jebidiah Baile Furies Red Team Leader

With:

SgtMaj. Carl Johnson (APC, M. Miller) Furies Command NCO

SSgt. Matthew St. Valentine (NPC, M. Miller) Furies Aide de Campe

== Deck 4: Flight Deck =

"...And I'm not wild about Lieutenant Branwen's retainer of the XO spot, Sir. After Leran Manev, I'm not sure she can handle a *real* firefight," Johnson finished his thought as he and the Red Team Leader, Second Lieutenant 'Jeb' Baile finished inspecting the Anduril and Glamdring before signing off on Tmmros' and Ergransi's flight-readiness checksheets.

Baile ran a hand through his shortcrop mohican and rubbed his unshaved chin. "She's about as green as they come..." he responded after a few seconds and put the beret back on his head. Johnson and Baile were the veterans of the Furies, two men who had spent virtually every minute of their life in one warzone or another.

"No shit, Jeb. How long you think our new CO will last?" Carl asked as he signed the padd for the Anduril. He liked the new First Lieutenant. She was more organized and professional than Hayes had been, in Carl's opinion.

"Fuck me if I know.. " Baile said and shrugged. "Depends if she's career or not.. " Few veterans thought highly of the so-called careerofficers. With them it became politics, not warfare.

"Yeah, true. But so far, she's humpin' it okay," Carl replied. He handed one padd to Tmmros, before starting to sign off the other one. "How's your team doin'? I hear that Furji's havin' quite a time with Donut."

Paperwork. Why couldn't someone just toss him into a pit filled with rabid elephants? "Team?.. bunch of no good girlscouts.." he frowned. "I'm surprised they can even wipe their asses without instructions.." he grinned slyly.

Carl only grunted in agreement, while he finished signing off the last form, then passed it to Baile for his final signature.

"I don't know.. I'm still trying to figure out who to shoot first.. Donut or Furji.. Preacher is also a candidate.. " he replied and signed off the padd. Or at least tried. After the third attempt he frowned at the electronic torture-device. "I hate the damn things... "

"Yeah, they're not--"

"Lieutenant Baile?" a voice called from behind them. Carl instantly recognized it as the voice of Staff Sergeant Valentine, the CO's aide.

Rolling his head, followed by a muffled cracking sounds, Baile turned around and glared at Valentine. Now was not really a good time to interrupt the recon specialist. He hated paperwork and just wanted to get it over with. "At ease..." he replied none the less.

"Lieutenant T'Shani would like to speak with you, Sir."

"I'm sure she would, Sunny... " Baile responded and looked at the padd in his hand with disgust. He tossed the pad over to Carl and gave Valentine a quick nod. "Hustle, Sunshine.."

Valentine nodded, ignoring Baile's always-cheerful personality. "Very well, Lieutenant. I'll let her know that you're on your way, Sir," he said while briefly coming-to and then leaving.

Carl just smiled and gave Baile a 'sly-eye'. "Well, look at it this way, Jeb. Maybe she's gonna tell you that they're finally sending Donut to the looney-bin."

"And maybe," Baile commented flatly, "the Busdrivers will actually grow a pair.. "

"Yeah," Carl replied chuckling, "I doubt it too."

----------------
T'Shani's Office
----------------

Baile could almost always been seen wearing the same style of clothing when not on mission. Sandcolored BDU-pants, a tight blue t-shirt with the SFMC insignia on the left handside of the chest, heavy duty spitshine combatboots, and a sidearm, a good old fashioned automatic gun in a holster strapped to his thigh. And his hat. Baile didn't care much for the beret, which would either be the Marine or Special Ops Beret. Instead he wore the hat he had started wearing during the first skirmishes of the Dominion War. Now it was probably the most seasoned and experienced Marine hat in the entire Corps.

Baile liked the hat. Good hats was hard to come by and this was a very good hat. A bit worn, but it had gotten to the point were it was very comfortable. A bit like a worn baseballcap.

The veteran reconspecialist had another bad habit. He rarely made much sound, something that had proven useful at times, but had also made a nervous security Guard shoot him in the... stern... when walking by. Good thing the guard hadn't hit the hat. The ass would heal, but the hat wouldn't have been the same.

Walking through the door to the CO's office Baile noticed a few things. First one was the stars. He hated the stars. Or rather, the empty space between them.

Second was the chair, which in itself looked comfortably enough.

Third was the blue... thing... sitting in it.

Andorian. How sweet. A race of aggressive hotheads with a chip on their shoulders.

The final thing Baile noticed was the fact that while the Andorian was physically in the room, her mind seemed to be elsewhere.

Flawlessly, with the unbeatable Marine precision, Baile stood attention, arms slammed tightly to his sides, chest out, beergut (if he had been in possession of one) in and eyes looking forward. "Second Lieutenant Baile reporting in. Ma'am."

T'Shani had been watching the stars. Although she had registered the shushed swish of her office doors, her mind had gone back to the depth of the stars.

A part of her still yearned to be out there, in some way. She was sure she was better off with this unit (and was better off to be back in the Corps), but still wondered sometimes about it all. rising from her seat, she turned to face her newest project.

"At ease, Lieutenant. Sit."

Baile lived and practically oozed Marine. From his composure to the way his eyes looked, that slight squint with just the right touch of viscious evil to them. He stood at ease and sat down in the chair offered to him.

T'Shani sat back down in her chair, facing Jebidiah across her desk. She had read Baile's jacket thoroughly (as all others), and was impressed by his service, if not the many reprimands. She also realized the irony in the fact that he had been serving in the SFMC long before she had even learned the First Movement of the Chaka.

Picking up the padd from her desk, she read off the list displayed on its screen: "Two bronze stars, SpecOps, many reprimands, and a former member of the infamous 'Crows'." She paused, looking up from the padd to meet Jebidiah's hard, steely eyes. "Why are you stuck with this rinky-dink outfit?"

He wondered how much she knew about his former unit, or rather the Colonel. It didn't really matter, he corrected himself. That was then. He shrugged, but looked into her eyes with the utmost self-confidence. "I drew the shortest straw."

"I see," she deadpanned. Like her, he had been involved in many things that he couldn't talk about, whether due to binding orders or just not wanting to relive those times. She could definitely sympathize.

Changing subjects, "Tell me about your team, your sergeants: Furji and Van der Groot."

To tell the truth Baile hadn't had much chance to check them. He'd done two exercises with the group, just basic Marine exercises to get a feel for the team. He was still observing their "off-battle" behaviour. "Can't really say that much. Furji shoots his mouth from time to time, but his heart is in the right place.. Van der Groot.." he shrugged. "He's a bit.. colorless, but he should do alright.. "

"And the rest of your team?" she paused, calling something up on her padd, "and a Mister... Donut?"

Donut. Baile wasn't sure if he'd end up spacing the moron or just space him. The guy had what it took, but when he was shitty, he was so shitty even a greenhorn looked good. But on the other hand - when he was good. Then boy. "Big mouth, likes to shoot it off, but if he just learns to listen to other than himself then maybe he'll be able to wipe his nose without help..."

"And he's still a Private?"

Baile shrugged and scratched the tattoo on the side of his neck. "I've seen his type before and they either make or break."

"I see. Can he handle a rank upgrade, to PFC?"

"If he can't handle that then he's got nothing to do in the Corps."

"Good, then see that it's done. Even if he is a little... 'off', as I've heard, he has the experience."

Experience with what, Baile asked himself. But if the CO wanted to give Donut a promotion then Baile wouldn't object. kicking him up one step to PFC meant nothing for the team, but would mean quiet a lot to Donut.

Tish noticed Baile's silence. ~Not much of a talker,~ she thought. But, then, that wasn't so bad. And from what his duty jacket showed, he had plenty of reason *to* be silent. It seemed he had his own ghosts to deal with. A theme Tish was well familiar with.

"Very well then, Lieutenant. I'm giving the teams a 'day off' tomorrow, when we get to 212. Tell them to enjoy the time off, because while the Galaxy is acting as a ferry service for Proctor, the Marine's will be undergoing Performance Reviews." As a young Marine, Tish had *hated* the dreaded Performance Reviews - or 'PRs', as they were known - since they were nothing more than glorified training. Now, as a CO though, she saw the usefulness in the exercise.

The terran marine managed to keep a straight face. He hadn't done PR's in at least ten years, mainly due to the fact he'd been in warzones most of the time. "What do you have in mind?" he asked flatly.

"A simple Red versus Blue exercise is all. Then, we'll see from there. I'll be overseeing it, with Red and Blue teams in opposing field positions."

"Looks like we'll be busy wiping asses and blowing their noses." Baile grunted, referring to the PR and the fact that they had some very inexperienced marines in the department.

Tish smiled and stood, "Anything else, Lieutenant?"

Baile shook his head. "No ma'am." he replied and stood attention.

"Very well. Dismissed, Lieutenant Baile."

The salute was precise, a textbook example of how to make one. He put the hat back on, turned around in true Marine form and headed for the exit.

"And Lieutenant?" Tish asked as the doors swished open again.

"Yes ma'am?" he answered and turned around again to face her.

"I've been in SpecOps, too. Maybe not like what you went through. But..." her voice softened to a friendlier non-commanding-officer tone. "If you ever feel the need to discuss what you *can*," she stressed 'can', since she knew the regs regarding Classified material, "never hesitate. My door is always open."

The marine fell silent for a second. He had told Branwen that Marines only talk to Marines because only Marines would understand. That was only partly true. SpceialOps was a strange breed, who kept to themselves and Baile had spent six years in specops and the last two shuttling from unit to unit. The only people he trusted enough to talk to was hundreds of lightyears away. "Is that a suggestion or an order, ma'am?" he asked in a flat voice.

"Not a suggestion, Lieutenant. An order, if it comes to that." She said simply, but with a supportive tone underlying her words. The last thing she needed was for any of her soldiers to break down on the field of battle.

His face went blank, even more so than before. "Understood ma'am."

"Very well, then. Off with you, Lieutenant."

The doors closed behind the Marine. Worries about what would happen if she ordered him to debrief would have to wait until such a thing happened. Right now he had some planning to do for that sorry excuse of no good monkeys that made up the Red Team.

[BACKPOST]

"Toast"

Ella Grey
Marcus Slayton

****

She took small sip of the drink and winced. The newest bartender of Ten-Forward winced with her. "Too much tomato juice? Not enough? Needs more tabasco?"

Ella Grey gave the man a sympathetic smile. His first night of the job appeared to be rattling the young man's nerves which was why she forgave him for making a (sort of) Bloody Mary when she had asked for a Daqueri. She pointed at the water instead.

If the guy wondered why she didn't speak, he didn't say anything and Ella would have gladly given him some credits for that alone.

Marcus entered Ten Forward looking for something to drink, he still had some time before he was to report back to sickbay after the DIIS attack on the Galaxy and the comment of "I need a really stiff drink" was more than the right comment than anything at the moment. He went to the bar and got the attention of the bar tender as he handed the water to Ella.

"Yes sir, what can I get for you tonight?" the bartender asked and Marcus went through his list of drinks in his head before finally responding but some abject part of him was wondering why the bartender looked nervous.

"I'll have a pint of Wheran's Reserve whiskey with a shot of Kanar or Andoran Ale if you don't got canar, it's been one of those days in engineering, my good man." Marcus said with a smile on his face as the bartender went about getting his order. He turned to look at the young lieutenant, smiled and nodded but then winced as the bandage on the right side of his jaw reminded him of how tender that part of his jaw still was.

"Good eve, Lieutenant Grey, how are you this fine evening?" he asked honestly.

Ella raised an amused eyebrow and entered a reply in her computer PADD before passing it over to him. *I'M GOOD, HOW ARE YOU?*

Marcus looked at the PADD, smiled and then looked at her again. "I'm doing fine, Lieutenant. Could be better but I'm still concerned about Anna and the others that got hurt during this little...fit of Commander Thomas. So, how did I do for my first day on the job so to speak?" he asked, not really fishing for an approval or anything of the sort but more to make small talk with another officer than anything as he was still the FNG (Fucking New Guy) on board the ship.

Ella made an 'okay' gesture with her hand and smiled. *YOU DID FINE* she elaborated on her computer PADD. *SO HOW DO YOU LIKE THE DEPARTMENT*

"It's cool, I've got some questions though. Like who are some of these people that I keep hearing about such as Dhanishta Eshe and Naranda Sol Roswell for example? I keep hearing about them in passing conversation and before I came in here to get a drink, I heard Anna saying something about having to deal with a Miss Roswell suddenly appearing back on board. Can you fill me in?" Marcus said with a confused look on his face and he took a drink of his whiskey and winced at the sharp bite of the liquid.

"We thought she was dead." Ella said, deciding that she might as well practice her new voice since this might turn into a long story. "And then it appeared that she faked her death, althout I'm not really clear on all the details. O'Shea was pissed."

Marcus blinked a couple of times really fast and then blinked once for good measure before finally saying "So, how's your throat?" he asked without a second thought, not knowing why she was was talking now where she was writing on the PADD a few seconds ago with a look of utter confusion on his face.

"Fine." Ella said and then laughed. "I'm sorry, that must have been a surprise for you. I've got this new voice here and I have to work at making myself use it, that's all. You've joined an interesting department."

Marcus knew what she meant, a fellow crewmember on the Hiro' had to relearn how to walk following the Jem'Hadar attack on the ship during the war with the Dominion, normally that wouldn't be a memorible thing if it wasn't for the fact that he got stuck with a certain young marine by the name of Private Dexter Grif. Marcus then looked at Ella and smiled.   "Well, the department is indeed interesting but the primary thing to remember is that it takes an interesting engineer to make a ship truly memoriable. Professor Scott once told my fourth year starship design class that only the engineers get to have all the fun aboard a starship because they are the ones that get to truly tinker with the cosmos and in short, god must have been an engineer." Marcus said as he raised his glass up.   "To the engineering staff of the Galaxy, despite what Brhode or Thomas or anyone else says, the finest engineering staff in the entire fleet!" he toasted.   "To the engineering staff." Ella said with a smile as they clinked glasses. God help us, she added with a silent smirk.

"That Which Goes Unseen"

Lt.(JG) Naranda Sol Roswell
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff

***

Ten Forward

Nara kept looking over curiously to the man across the room. In the other corner of the room, something was intriguing about him. How people seemed to whisper about him and how he genuinely didn't seem to care.

There was a darkness about the man that reminded her of the darkness of her father. The darkness her mother said is much more subdued than when she first met him. Nara smiled deciding to see how he reacted to strangers coming up all friendly. At best, he would be civil. At worst, but most entertaining, he would become hostile.

She walked over and set her drink down across from him and sat, "I hope you don't mind me joining you." She smiled at him. Nara tried to be intuitive enough to know who would mind such boldness. He seemed one who couldn't care less. Or growl at her. Either way would be interesting.

She wasn't looking for trouble. She'd leave him alone if he wanted. A little rise would be enough to amuse her for today. She was surprised, but unconcerned, that even having Saia to be responsible for, she still had quite a mischievous streak.

Victor looked up from his coffee as the woman approached. He didn't remember her, but that wasn't surprising, there were enough people on the Galaxy moving in and out all the time that it was impossible to keep track of them all. In general, he just kept track of the ones that were problems, or that he talked to. The rest weren't likely to be an issue unless they moved into one of the other two categories.

"Sit if you want," he offered. She was close enough to him that she had to know what he was by now, which meant that she was either one of the ones that didn't see it immediately, one of the ones that either didn't see it at all or didn't care if they did, or one of the ones that was attracted to it.

No matter which one of them it was, he knew what to do.

"Do you need something?"

Nara shrugged, "No." She considered him a moment, "You just remind me of my father."

That was, at least different. Oddly enough, he knew what to say in response to it without having to think. "I'm sorry."

Nara laughed, "What for?"

"Because I know what I am, Lieutenant. I know what I do to people, and no matter how bad it is with adults, with children its worse. They haven't learned to look at the masks we wear on the outside yet." He frowned. "Children shouldn't have to face things like that, certainly not every day."

Nara was confused, "What are you talking about? I'm no child. What is it you think you do to people?"

She was one of the ones that didn't see it then. Victor spent a heartbeat wondering why there were so many of them aboard the Galaxy, and then discarded the thought. It wasn't important why they were here, or even that they *were* here; like everything else, that was the way it was. Like him.

"If you can't see it immediately then perhaps there's no need to be sorry," he said tonelessly. "I imagine that most of the crew would consider you lucky - or perhaps not. It might depend on who you asked."

He frowned again, the expression somehow completely different than the one he'd used a moment before. "As for what I do to people..." he made a small gesture with one hand, "I don't have to do anything, just be present. The rest is up to them."

Nara frowned as well. She then shrugged, "Doesn't sound like anything to do with you. These people are just jerks. They don't care to get to know people, but will judge them just the same. Now George Kastanza, I admit, I got on the he's-a-sleaze train and after awhile I just figured he was lonely and pathetic." Nara focused again on Victor, "You just seem melancholy to say the least."

"No, it's real," Victor assured her. "It has been all my life, even while I was an infant. It's less threatening to some, more to others, but it's always there. Just because you don't feel it now doesn't mean you won't, or can't." He looked up. "You don't have any Vulcan, Breen, or Horta ancestry, obviously - that means I can probably show you if you want." He met her eyes with his expressionless ones. "I don't think you really do, though."

Nara looked at him curiously, "I'm half Betazoid and am telepathic if that's what you mean."

Victor tilted his head to the side and looked at her. "Truly? I'm surprised; Betazoids are usually the species that have the worst reaction to me. My first roommate at the Academy was Betazoid - he took one look at me as I walked into the dorm room for the first time, screamed, and jumped out the window." He took a sip of his coffee. "We were on the third floor. They entered a flag into my service jacket after that and a few other incidents prohibiting me from being assigned to duty with Betazoids in close quarters."

Nara raised an eyebrow, "What are you, the Grim Reaper?" She shook her head laughing, and then frowned, "I'm in denial about who I am most of the time. It would make sense I put up guards concerning the truth of who anyone else is. I rarely let my walls down anyway, now that I know how to use them."

She looked at him again, "I heard about you, though. I'm just now remembering. It only makes you more intriguing to me. But you are not without friends, so you can't be too bad." She smiled, knowing he wouldn't return it, "By the way, I'm Nara, and I'm assuming you're Victor."

"Yes," he agreed. "To both." She obviously understood, at least on some level, even if she'd made the comment into a joke. That was something he was used to, too. People did it sometimes when they realized something unconsciously and didn't want to face it.

Nara raised an eyebrow, "I don't believe in grim reapers." She stated it seriously, "If anything, you have a dark, troubled soul and whether you intend it or not, are quite sure people know it." She smiled slightly, "Any demons or angels, I doubt would be in Star Fleet." Her smile grew to one of amusement, "Or a bored Q. Thank goodness the last people they pestered was the Voyager crew."

"Never met a Q," Victor shrugged. "I wasn't assigned to DS9 the one time Picard's Q showed up there, and none of the other duty stations I've been on were interesting enough to attract one's attention, I guess." He took another drink from his coffee. "But you shouldn't dismiss something casually like that as a general rule. Just because you don't believe in something, doesn't mean that it doesn't believe in you."

Nara grinned, "I'm open-minded, but I prefer to think that you're just as human or humanoid as anyone here. Just a little darker." Nara tilted her head, "You're not the first dark-souled person to ever exist, you know. But others seem to enjoy that people fear them, often using it to their advantage. You seem rather indifferent to it. I'd almost guess you wish it weren't so." Nara leaned a bit forward, "Take no offense, Reaper, but I have a feeling you've got a gentleness in there somewhere." She spoke softly so no one else could hear. She leaned back again wondering what he would think of the nickname.

"I wouldn't know, Lieutenant. I am what I am, that's all. No point in wishing for things to be different, or whining about the fact that they aren't. No point in trying to be something I'm not. This is what I am, so I just accept it and move on." He set the now-empty coffee mug down.

"I'm not saying any of those things. Just that maybe there's another layer. Don't deny that part of yourself either." Nara stated sensing him getting a tad irritated.

"I'm not a nice person, at least not by the definitions that most people use. I don't think like other people do and I don't act like they do because I'm not like them. Or anyone." He tapped a few keys and the mug faded out to be replace on the table's transport pad by another, identical one. "They can like me or not, fear me or not, it simply doesn't change anything. What is, is."

Nara smiled, "By my definition, you seem nice enough. I know that doesn't matter to you, but sometimes we just need to say things. It just seems impossible that someone can be so confident in who they are and not care one iota what other's think. I sometimes wish I couldn't care." The man had the calm of a Vulcan, but wasn't near as irritating as them.

"Don't."

She laughed, "Don't say you're nice?"

"Don't wish for something like that. Caring is what makes you human. And I'm not nice."

Nara smiled, "You're right. I don't really wish it. Just it hurts sometimes. I think you have a caring spot. Maybe not for yourself, but for other people who are your friends."

"People keep telling me that they're my friends," Victor offered quietly. "Perhaps they are, I don't know. I'm not good at that, being a friend. Because I don't think like anyone else, I don't do things they way they seem to expect me to when I do them at all." He took a drink from his coffee. "You should probably go soon."

Nara gave him a look, "You don't know my schedule." She was getting slightly irritated now. "I'm not saying I'm your friend; I don't know you well enough. I am sure you underestimate those friends, though. All that's required in my book is that they're there for you. Surely there's someone who feels better just by having you around?"

"Yes," Victor frowned. Rissa had needed him to keep the nightmares away on DS9, and after her there had been Grey with the same need here on the Galaxy. At least Grey had needed that before the first night he was back aboard, when she'd told him about Geluf and what he'd done. She'd been happier when she was around him before that, when he was there to keep the monsters at bay. "But she isn't speaking to me now."

Nara nodded and looked down, "That doesn't mean she still doesn't need you." Nara knew she was also preaching to herself concerning Saul. As much as she wanted to kill him, part of her wanted to run to him. A very small part at the moment, but because of circumstances and their own closedness, they had not been very close since meeting months ago. She felt deprived of a friendship that might never be.

"You should still go, Lieutenant." He looked up from the coffee. "Seventeen people have seen you speaking to me so far. By shipboard standards, that means you will be classified as a freak, mentally deficient in some way, or as a sick adrenaline-junkie looking for a thrill by standing here and speaking to me."

Nara laughed, "I don't really care. Don't worry about me. I'm not picky about who I choose to associate with. If they don't like it, well...maybe I am picky, cuz I wouldn't associate with anyone so close-minded." Nara knelt forward, "Maybe you are who you think and what people say. Even so, I'm not dead yet. So, I have proved that being around you does not kill." Nara shook her head, "For goodness sake, if that were so, they wouldn't let you around another being!" Nara found the whole thing ridiculous.

"They don't have to, Lieutenant." He nodded at the swath of empty tables that curved around his, separating him from the other crewmen in the room like the Neutral Zone separated Romulan and Federation space. "It happens all by itself."

Nara sighed, "Ok. So most people don't want to touch you with a ten-foot pole. Does that mean you will push away the people who are willing to at least give you a chance?" Nara smiled, "I tend to gravitate toward the oddballs. They're the most intriguing." Nara wondered if that's how it was with Saul. Was he an oddball that intrigued her? No. It was his secrets that were intriguing.

"Three meters."

Nara raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

"That's the average distance when I start to affect people, Lieutenant. Not ten feet." Victor frowned. "Some closer, some further away. Once, I met a green Orion woman who could get close enough to touch me before she started to scream inside." He shrugged, the emotional context of that statement apparently nil for him. "It all depends."

Nara considered a moment, "You really are something, aren't you?" She rested an elbow on the table to rest her chin on her hand, "I would guess I've just got too many walls. Or too preoccupied to realize if there is anything." Nara found herself curious, "Is it just a darkness or something people fear because they don't know it? How strong is it?" She looked at his eyes, "And if you have such power, why be among common folk?" Nara opened her walls slowly to see what the fuss was about.

Victor looked back, eyes expressionless. "Where else would I be, Lieutenant? What else would I do? I can either guard the sheep, or be one of the things they must be guarded from - when I was a child I chose to protect rather than prey. I haven't found a reason to change that decision since then."

Nara didn't hear what he said. She had closed her eyes and slammed the walls shut again. A tiny crack for a tiny fraction of a second was all it took. She didn't scan or anything, it was just there. As he had said in a round about way, it's always there. She was glad she met him now and not before she learned how to use the shields. She wanted to run. She fought the impulse as she gripped the edge of the table and told herself he had not hurt her. In fact, from talking to him, he seemed gentle as a lamb. Yet for some reason he had this *thing* that was so dark and menacing.

"Lieutenant? Are you.... Ah." Victor nodded. He'd seen the signs many times, every time he met someone. "You had to know, so you looked." At least she wasn't like Angelienia, all he smelled was the fear.

She breathed and heard her heart beat in her chest. She blinked her eyes open and looked at him again. She opened her mouth and a squeak came out, and she tried again, "I guess you're right." She cleared her throat and shook her head, "I'll just, um, keep my walls up around you." She looked down at the table contemplating, "It just doesn't fit though."

She remembered the words he had previously spoken. They were drowned out before by the enormous darkness that seeped through the crack she opened, but she tried to remember, "Did you say something about guarding?" She smiled weakly, "That makes sense. Like a mother bear. Gentle and kind to her cubs but could tear anything that attacks them to shreds and then eat them." Nara laughed nervously. She was still trembling, but she refused to follow her instinct when the truth of the matter was he was of no real threat.

"I think," Victor offered quietly, "that the analogy you're using may be flawed. I'm not particularly gentle or kind, Lieutenant, just polite - because no one wants to see me when I'm not polite. Perhaps a better analogy might be that I'm a tiger, you all are sheep, and that no one can hunt here, can kill you or harm you, without coming through me first, because this is my territory, and no one hunts here but me." He picked up his coffee again and sipped at it. "I just choose not to hunt."

Nara smiled as her adrenaline slowed, "I like to think it's a mix of the two." She sat there sipping her drink feeling herself relax again. "I do feel safer with you around. Well feel is not the right word, I guess. I feel scared to death." Nara grinned, "Forgive the unintentional pun. But it's the fact of knowing you have the power to destroy anything and you choose to protect this territory and I'm part of it." Nara looked at the people obviously whispering about them, "I know you'll deny it and liken it to the animal kingdom, but I think it's sweet. I feel sorry for the people who don't overcome their fears to get to know you."

"No sheep like a tiger, Lieutenant; even one that has been set to watch over them. That's just the way things are. Feeling sorry for them, or me, is pointless," Victor shrugged. "At least you understand why I said I was sorry that I reminded you of your father now... and why I don't spend time around children."

Nara nodded. "Reminded me of him and now I realize you are different from him. My father is just human with a scarred soul." Nara shrugged back, "No matter what you are. I am glad to meet you."

"You might not be, later," he told her. "People sometimes aren't, and I can't say that they're wrong. I may hurt you or kill you, or someone you care about, and if that happens it won't scar me like it would you or one of the other crew. I'll do it, forget it, and move on."

Nara raised an eyebrow, thinking, "Well my guess is you wouldn't hurt me unless you have reason. Reason being I hurt one of your friends or fellow crewmembers. I don't plan on doing that. Thank you for the warning, however."

"Seemed only polite," he nodded, "since you talked to me." He looked up and across the room again. "You'll get questions, you know."

Nara smiled, "Good."

"What I said. What you said. Things like that. There are people that worry about such things. When they ask you, tell them whatever you want - if they don't like it, they'll just make something up, anyway." His voice carried no sense of emotional context to the words; he just spoke them as an accepted fact that didn't touch him. "I'd advise you to stick to the truth when Flight Officer Angelienia asks them, though. She's very... determined."

Nara laughed, "Believe me, I know how the rumor mill works."

Victor took a drink of his coffee. "Lieutenant O'Rourke will probably ask questions as well, but she's not like the Flight Officer - she understands the truth. The Flight Officer sees something different when she looks at me - that's why it's better to stick to the truth with her."

Nara shook her head, "What makes you think I would say anything other than the truth. I'm too lazy to lie. The truth is easier to remember."

"I think so," he agreed. "But sometimes people lie to irritate other people. The Flight Officer doesn't deal with that well, not when she thinks that she's being shown another obstacle to getting what she wants. She's... a bitch... then."

Nara nodded, "So much so you can't seem to say her name."

"No," he said with yet another frown. "I don't use her name because I don't talk to her, and she isn't family - those are the only people I call by name. The only people I call by name outside that are the ones I'm trying to make mad enough that they'll make a mistake so that I can kill them with less trouble. I use ranks and 'sir' or 'ma'am' all other times because it's polite, and it falls within a behavioral range that people understand."

Nara raised an eyebrow, "Of course."

"Should I not?" he asked over his coffee. "Should I be rude, instead? I can be very rude if I try - or so I'm led to believe."

Nara rolled her eyes, smiling, "I wasn't being sarcastic. I was agreeing."

Victor shook his head. "I know. I just wanted to know the answer. I might have been doing it wrong all these years."

Nara laughed, "Well, being rude doesn't seem to be of good use. Though it is annoying when someone is being polite to just be polite. Better than nothing though. Keeps things civil."

"I thought so, yes; I just wondered all of the sudden if I'd been wrong, if it would have been better to be rude and give people what they expected from me." He thought a moment. "or at least a small part of it. If I gave them everything they expected, then I'd be the thing they needed to be protected from in truth."

Nara smiled at him, "I think highly of people who go beyond expectations. So many people choose to be bound by what's expected of them."

Nara stood, "It's time for me to go. Not for the reasons you thought earlier, but there's a little girl that I need to go get so she can eat supper." Nara smiled at him again and held out her hand, "And again, it was a pleasure to meet you."

Victor looked at her for a moment, and then at her hand, his head tilted to one side in an animalistic manner. "It was good to talk," he nodded. "But I don't know that touching you is... wise. Physical contact strengthens the effect sometimes, and even with your defenses up you *are* half-Betazoid. I wouldn't want to cause a problem before you went to get your daughter - she doesn't deserve a terrified parent."

Nara retreated her hand sadly, but smiled again, "Thank you again for being protective of that. She's not actually a daughter, but I am taking care of her. Have a good day, Reaper." She winked at him and walked away.

With a long swallow Victor finished off his coffee as he watched her go. He still didn't understand why there were so many people aboard the Galaxy that could speak to him without running, much less so many that were willing to do so for no reason he really understood - but he didn't mind that there were. It made the Galaxy feel like home, the only one he'd really had during his time in the Fleet. He'd miss it when he was gone, when M'Kantu finally transferred him, would miss the moments of conversation that made him feel like something he wasn't and could never be. Just like he missed talking to Grey, missed her being there, saying all those things that made no sense to him but seemed to be perfectly reasonable to her. Even if she was now finally aware of what he was and couldn't stand to be near him again, if she was finally as scared of him as the others were, it had been nice to be wanted, to be needed... to be touched... even if only for a little while.

"These Dreams That Come When I Close My Eyes"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineer

Soundtrack: end of post..."These Dreams" it's just so freakishly surreal of a song

"Message Sent." The letters flashed and Nara hit the button again to make it go away. She had sent a bit more of a detailed letter explaining Saia to her parents. She wanted to tell them about the issue with Professor Marks, but that was a more of a face to face thing.

She slid off the chair and went to take a peek at Saia, who seemed to be sleeping better. Nara was getting her appetite back. Things seemed to have calmed down since she came back with the 10-year old. She took her hair down and fluffed it as she sat on the couch and picked up a PADD. She looked at the listing of quarters. The way Bran had talked, she still wanted to be Nara's room mate. Nara was ok with that, so long as the quarter master was ok with it. Her eyes started to drift..

The water splashed against the silver sand. Nara found herself in someone's arms. She didn't look up, just sat there content to be in the warm arms of who she imagined was Saul as the gentle breeze blew. Suddenly, she heard someone call, "AHOY NARA!" She looked out over the water to see a sailboat. She saw Saul wave at her and then kiss Branwen.

She looked up and found herself looking into the face of Professor Marks, whose grip on her was growing tighter. She tried to scream but she couldn't. She felt terrified and knew Victor Kreighoff stood over them. She looked up, "Him. Get him!" Marks disappated and she looked up at Victor only to see her father. "You're nothing like him." Her father shook his head and left.

Nara jumped up scared. The only man she thought she'd ever love was on a boat out at sea with her roommate. Victor's presence still loomed over her and her father seemed disapproving. She had to get out of there, so she jumped on the horse-which was odd as there were no horses on Sakaria-and ran down toward her house. But it wasn't there. There was nothing there but a desert. A sandy miserable desert.

She found herself digging in the sand and she suddenly fell in. The tunnels under Trill. At the end of the tunnel, she saw a silhouette in the sun. She walked up to it as it spoke to her, "Is this really you're life, Randa?"

She stopped, "You're judging me?"

The figure stepped out. It was K'Erin, "No. It's just a question."

Nara went to her knees, "I miss you."

"This is your life."

"Don't you think I know that."

Nara's eyes opened and she sat up. She hadn't dreamed in awhile. Not like that. Not the kind of dream that made you think. Then as the sleep left, she realized none of it made sense. It made sense then. She shook her head and found she was trembling. It was obvious that the tiny bit of Victor's grim darkness she saw effected her more than she liked. She was confused about the dessert at first until she remembered she had been in Dhanishta's mind when Dhani was in a coma. Why were all these things haunting her dream?

Too much thinking for one night. She shook her head again and walked toward her room when she spotted, "New Message," on the console. She tapped it intending to just shut it off, but it came from someone that made her smile and freak out at the same time. It was K'Erin. He was on Starbase 212 and knew the Galaxy was around.

Nara frowned. With all that was going on, she wondered if she'd be able to get off the ship. She also wanted to show Saia a starbase.

She wrote a quick reply saying something to the effect of she hopes she gets to come see him while they were there.

Then she lay back down, leaving the lights on and focused on making sure her mental walls were up. She wanted to ask Victor how long till someone normally gets rid of the fear after seeing that presence of his. She didn't regret meeting him, but there is a such thing as knowing someone too much.

She drifted off wondering what was the actual good of being a telepath. It only seemed to serve to make her life and dreams all the more surreal than it already was.

“The Price of Nothing”

Location: Leran Manev View Hospital, Room 8 Intensive care ward

Primary character: Dhanishta Eshe

****

Her body relaxed. And finally her mind emptied. And it was such relief.

To *think* of nothing. To *feel* nothing. To hear *nothing*.

And for a long time that’s all there was. It could have been a long time…. Maybe it was a second or a minute. Or even a year, or ten. It didn’t matter. Nothing seemed to matter.

Her mind was free from thought, and word, and deed and what she had left undone.

For this moment, this everlasting moment, such tranquillity. She felt as if she were floating, far out across a clear blue sea.

Little did she know the sea was made of tears.

****

~Dhanishta….~

A voice echoed through the silence.

Dhani prickled at the sound as it vibrated through the walls. In a place where nothing mattered why did ‘nothing’ suddenly have feeling?

~Nishta!~

Someone was here, with her. Dhani sat still, barley breathing. Straining in the darkness to see, but there was nothing to see; only the blackness.

~Nishta…~

The voice persisted. And the name, *that* name, that sound drove a sensation of pain through Dhanishtas chest. She felt the despair connected to this voice. And the others it hid.

*Yes* she could feel them! Like shadows across her mind. Hiding, laying in wait, to pounce.

She retreated from this voice, this sound of agony.

Here in this place there was no pain. This was *her* place. This was *her* space, all of it. She was safe here. Safe from the pain, safe from emotion.

This place had none. That was its design.

Why come here? Why had this voice broken all that she had created? Why did it continue to hurt her? Why couldn’t they just LEAVE HER ALONE?

Her nostrils flared as she backed further into the walls of her retreat.

That was if she had nostrils here! She wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter. Nothing had.

Until now!

Why when she had found this place did they deface it with their presence?

Dhani couldn’t escape this voice, this mind; it was full of pain and sorrow. She could feel the shadows as they moved across the sand. It agonised her. She could feel their thoughts, several minds, hiding behind the one.

Dhanishta curled up. Praying that if she stayed still and quite they would move on. Her anger fumed and manifested itself elsewhere. She stilled her breathing. Her muscles tensed and she pulled away.

The sounds muffled and distorted as they moved through the emptiness, where she dwelt, and out into the sun.

Taking their pain; their black hole of despair with them.

She wasn’t ready.

She wasn’t ready to feel those things. Her mind had been bombarded enough.

Soon the feeling of violation settled. As they left it dissipated and fell away back into the nothing.

As did she.

The nothing.

The beautiful nothing.

So calm, tranquil… it asked no questions. It expected nothing. It wanted nothing.

But Dhani gave it everything she had. All of her self she handed over. And she took from it. She took nothing into herself. Until *she* was nothing.

This place was different from death. Dhani had died before. She had ascended, or so she thought, to the stars. She had been one of them. She could go anywhere and do anything. She felt happy and content. It didn’t matter that she left things unsaid, or unfinished. She was dead! Those material things didn’t concern her. She was loved and *felt* loved. She was warm and comfortable. She was everywhere and in everything…. it was amazing.

But here.

Here was different.

There were no warm feelings. No contentment. No happiness. Furthermore no sadness. There was just nothing.

Definition of Nothing: pron. not anything; matter of no importance; figure 0. – adv. not at all. – nothingness n. nonexistence; insignificance

Nonexistence = Death?

Dhanis body was still alive. But her mind?

If she thought and felt nothing, did that mean she was dead?

Her body still breathed.

The blood still flowed.

But her mind, her brain…

It stopped.

But how could it just stop? What does that mean?

Most humanoids fear death. They fear the unknown. Death is the unknown. Because no one has come back and said what it’s like. People continue to tell stories to make themselves feel better about it. They talk of this wonderful place called heaven. Where all your loved ones are, and it’s all happiness and light. Wonderful and amazing… is this a lie?

Others say there is nothing. After you die, that’s it.

Nothing.

It’s what people fear most. Do you lose everything that you were? Your body is dead, but what about your mind? Does that continue? Where does it go? If there is nothing, then I would cease to exist. But I don’t want to cease, I want to continue. I don’t want to be nothing.

But then if there really is nothing then you wouldn’t know you didn’t exist anymore because you wouldn’t feel it. Cause there is nothing!

Right?

Tanson took a step forward and held Kala by her shoulders, “She’s gone Kala,” he said looking into her eyes, “Her body has given up and her brain has shut down, its time to let her go.”

Indeed her body had shut down, the only reason she breathed was because machines pumped air through her lungs. But what about her brain? Had the nothing shut it down?

She didn’t think, she didn’t feel, she wasn’t aware of her surroundings.

So maybe she was dead.

What was awareness anyway?

****

Within the oblivion Dhanishta had encapsulated herself in she continued to float across a sea of nothing. She had been so happy to give herself over to the painless nothing. So happy to not exist. She had wanted the nothing to take her away from all the suffering. To silence the thoughts and emotions that gnawed away at her.

But what was the cost?

“Love don’t cost a thing…?”

Location: Leran Manev View Hospital, Room 8 Intensive care ward

Primary character: Dhanishta Eshe (APC)

Also featuring Ethan Suder (NPC)

**

Within the oblivion Dhanishta had encapsulated herself in she continued to float across a sea of nothing. She had been so happy to give herself over to the painless nothing. So happy to not exist. She had wanted the nothing to take her away from all the suffering. To silence the thoughts and emotions that gnawed away at her.

**

~Dhani hold on, don’t go. If you die, I die. Do you hear me? Find your way back home, find your way back ho….~

This voice penetrated the silence with its urgency and fear. Dhani recognised this voice. It had pained her before. Scoured her mind and agonised her in its relentlessness.

But something changed. And it was sudden. The floating sensation stopped and Dhani fell hard to the ground. This place of nothing was now something. It was somewhere and it had feeling.

*She* had feeling.

This place she had created, that she had escaped to, retreated into and felt safe, no longer held its appeal.

She could feel the walls close in on her. She reached out with her mud covered hands and pushed against them.

The air changed.

She began to feel hot and light headed. This place took on an evil to it. Stifling her, constricting her. She had wanted this place. She knew that. She had needed it. But now she didn’t. She didn’t want to be nothing. Not anymore.

Invisible hands clasped around her neck, she could feel the air leave her, and she tried to breath, tried to force her lungs to take in the oxygen.

She began to suffocate.

The steady beat that had accompanied her, unnoticed, became irregular and slowed.

And to her fright it stopped. And now there truly was silence. No beat, no breathing… she felt the panic set in to her body. Did she have a body? Uncertainty tugged at her. Her eyes searched the walls. The walls that had protected her now imprisoned her and she was afraid. Afraid of dying. Of being nothing. Of ceasing to exist.

Of losing Kala.

Kala!

Oh my god! KALA!

Dhani tried to scream. But there was no air, she couldn’t breath. She began to choke, her body thrashed inside, her hands pawed at the ground, her eyes pleaded to the darkness.

The darkness.

Black as ebony.

She wanted to fight it. To beat the darkness into submission. But she couldn’t, she could move, couldn’t breath.

Was this it?

Was she over?

Finished?

Was this the end of the line?

She closed her eyes. It was dark…. But it was dark when she had her eyes open… or had she always had her eyes shut? Did she have any eyes?

~Gee Dhani! Way to go. Think about the irrelevant stuff while you’re suffocating! That’s just great, now mock you’re self! While we’re here why don’t we just practice the art of kicking your own arse?~

Dhani shook her head. And if she could have she would have laughed at herself. Of all the predicaments!

She could feel the dry mud that clung to her hands. For the first time since crawling into this pit she had what she thought was a real sensation. As the mud had dried it pulled the skin. She could, if she tried, wiggle her fingers, really slowly… and yes! She could feel the mud cracking and flaking, falling from her fingers in clumps.

~Well done!~ her inner voice congratulated her, ~that’s just truly amazing. Of all the things to get excited about, its dry mud for you! Bah, don’t worry that your trapped inside your own mind, suffocating, will you? Cause that’s just a side issue. I’m sure that those flakes of mud will fall into place and set this whole thing straight. Hey, they may even form a map to get out of this place! Because some stupid idiot forgot to pack one! Oh yeah that would be y…~ her inner voice silenced its mocking as Dhanishta really began to panic.

~I don’t want to die, I don’t want to be nothing…~

~KALA~ she screamed inside herself.

She tried once more to breath, opening her mouth she gulped for air. But there was none. She felt herself drifting. Little spots began to flood her vision; it reminded her of pins and needles. If the sensation of pins and needles could form an image, she imagined that it would look like a snow storm, like interference on a view screen, but smaller and less crowed. And maybe some colour too! White, black, pink and yellow too, forming small pinpricks of light before fading away and being replaced with another…

Light!

Dhani finally noticed. It trickled through at first, making her think she was seeing weird sun spots. She continued to stair in disbelief as the walls around her crumbled. The light poked through the holes, streamed in like laser beams. Bathing her body, warming her as it flowed across her skin.

She reached up and ran her finger along the roof.

A shower of dust and dried earth rained down around her. Half coughing, gulping for air and sneezing Dhani pushed herself away from the rocks. On to her knees she steadied herself, but the earth fell away. And she stumbled as she rose to her feet. Above her the clear blue sky darkened as huge black clouds formed and cracked.

Still gulping for air Dhani focused hard and again tried to breath. The wind whipped her with the sand. And she fell on to the ground. Clawing at it as she choked.

Thunder rumbled through the valley. The sky split with lightening. Dhanishta looked up, her face still pleading, unable to speak she watched in a daze.

The lightening split the sky, its energy and light tore through reality, ripped it open for Dhani to see.

Behind her the steep cliff face rose up towards the sky. To the left of the cliff the hills, made of compact sand, rolled across the horizon. And there on the ridge the dust cloud formed. It gathered momentum like a hurricane and began to form a shaft. It twisted like a tornado as it began its decent across the golden hill. Growing larger and larger as it collected more and more sand and dust.

****

“That is time.” She said turning back to him. “My time.”

He felt his stomach lurch. “That means your going?” he asked. He already knew the answer. And now things were finally dawning on him, she was dying.

She smiled at him, “It’s okay.” She said. “I’m not afraid.”

“But, but you can’t. I need to know how to fix this. You have so much still to do, you can’t go yet Dhani, please.”

Standing up she picked up the ginger cat and stroked his head. Walking over to Suder she placed him in his lap.

“They miss him.” She told Suder.

“What?” he asked confused. Taking the cat from her he stood up.

“It’s time for you to go inside now. To be with them.” She said.

“Dhani I don’t…” as he heard the laughter form inside the house he stopped. He had heard that laughter so many times in his dreams, no matter if he was awake or asleep. And that face… he missed her. His chest tightened as he thought of Kay.

“She’s waiting.” Dhanishta said smiling.

****

The image played out in Ethan’s mind. Taking a deep breath he sighed loudly. He had waited all his life for this moment. He had sat alone in his quarters brooding, wondering, wishing he could change things. Wishing he had said all the things he wanted to say, when he had the chance.

And now he did.

And he was speechless.

Upon arriving at Qo’no’S he had searched for her. And now he was here, standing out side her door.

The wind whistled through the alleyway. The drunken voices from the bar across the street caught his attention and he turned and looked across the road. The streets were dark and cold. The buildings were tall and overbearing, Klingon architecture was always dramatic.

‘You must hurry’

Dhanis voice broke through his mind once more. He turned and looked back at the large red door. His heart leaped in his chest as he reached out to the communication pad to its right.

“She’s waiting.”

His hand hovered over the chime. He was here, he was really going to do this. It felt as if he had waited a life time to do this. He could see Kay’s face clearly in his mind. See her smile, the wrinkles on her nose, the curve of her forehead, her golden hair that curled under her chin. He had spoken to her many times… in his mind. Seen her in his dreams. Awake or a sleep he could see her. All he had to do was close his eyes….

His finger touched the button, poised over it.

“She’s waiting.” Ethan mulled over Dhanis words once more. ~Waiting for what?~ He questioned, ~Waiting for me? As if!~ he scoffed, ~If she had any feeling for me then she would never have left. Did she know? She must have known… it was obvious. And if she did know then she wasn’t interested…. Or waiting for me to make the first move…~

His finger twitched.

~But what if she did? And she didn’t, didn’t want me.~ his brow furrowed, ~How can she be waiting for me? Dhani doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t know me. And she certainly doesn’t know Samara. She was just saying that because she wanted to live… this isn’t about me at all.~ his inner voice peaked, ~This is all about her… about Dhani. About her survival. And as much as I don’t want her to die, I can’t. I can’t do this for her. I can’t and I won’t. It’s not right. I can’t do this for anyone but me…~

His hand fell to his side. His eyes began to smart. He took a step back from the door and out into the street. Looking up he wondered momentarily which apartment was Kays…

This wasn’t right. Why should he do this for her? How on earth would him finding Kay, better yet being rejected by Kay, help Dhani?

Shaking his head Ethan looked back down at the road. Sighing he turned and walked away.

****

Dhanishta crouched on all fours, looking up wide eyed at the cloud forming on the horizon. She knew it was coming for her. She could feel it, sense it. She watched in terror as it gathered speed. Her fingers dug into the earth beneath her. Her chest tightened and heat coursed through her body. The fear gripped her and shook her to her very core.

There was no where left to hide.

"Invisible Battles"

Lt(jg) Cora Dobryin
Chief Inelligence Officer

*****

Cora's Quarters,
USS Galaxy-A

There were days Cora was convinced it was easier to write a detailed after action report than it was to deal with personnel issues. She knew it came with the job. Normally some calming music could sooth the savage beast within. However today Cora had chosen a piece of late 20th century rock instead. It fit her current mood better than anything else.

Among the ranks of Starfleet Intelligence trust didn't come easily. Once gained it remained like some impenetrable bond until broken. A moment no Intelligence Operative wanted to face with another. Yet they all knew that day may come. Saul Bental had managed to reach such a point with Cora.

"It's a dishonor to the uniform and to Intelligence," she mumbled to herself. Each phrase of music and its loud bass rhythm easily covered up Cora's voice. For once she didn't bother to whisper. To enraged, appalled and frankly upset to worry about it. Besides this self conversation was taking place within the confines of her own quarters which she kept bug free.

Sure there were times duty required them to do the unthinkable but this one had crossed that invisible line. Far too experienced to let denial set in and too dedicated as an officer to let anything slip her notice.

Since Cora's impromptu conversation with Cassius Henderson she'd been thinking long and hard about the whole situation with Saul. If things had improved she wouldn't feel so betrayed.

Despite considering the Commander more than a friend, saving one's life easily changed one's perspective on things; he was also Galaxy's Executive Officer. That very reason is why Cora had a duty to approach him when she originally had. Certainly none of it changed her personal feeling of failure

and betrayal but it had been necessary. In short Dobryin would have failed more if she didn't carry out her duties as a Starfleet Officer.

Maybe one day it would all make sense, perhaps it never would None of that mattered to Cora because she had others to protect and a job that demanded more than anyone could imagine. No one outside of Intelligence ever saw the

full impact. All they would see is a well constructed illusion, while deep inside her light and dark continued to fight the battle they'd always fought

against each other.

"Mice"

Col. J'Genthk Gessekensett CO,
SFMC 188th TSS Btn. Starbase 212

1Lt. T'Shani a'Akledorian CO,
SFMC 188th Furies 2nd TSS Dtc. USS Galaxy

Sgt. Louise Markinson (PCC, F. Byrne)
Furies Cryptologist/SFI Agent

== C Ring, Starbase 212: Baxter's Restaurant and Lounge ==

Andorian Blues was... unique.

Actually, the art form had much in common with its Terran equivalent, though the instrumentation was a little different. But then again, the Andorians had been exploring and expanding upon their version of "Jazz" several hundred years before Earth's Beethoven had even been born.

So, they had had a little bit of a head start.

The same could be said for J'Genthk Gessekensett. At seventy-nine human years old, he had been given a little of a head start on some of his Intelligence contemporaries. Like the blues from the Andorian singer on stage, J'Genthk's life had taken many ups, downs, and in-bet ween's. Soaring from powerful, soulful highs, to bitter, bending lows.

But he had learned a thing or two.

Like when someone was standing behind him.

"Sit down, Lieutenant. I've been expecting you." The tall, blue-purple Saurian Colonel stood and took the shoulder coat from his subordinate, hanging it on the booth's attached hat hook. Though old by Terran calendars, Gessekensett (not his real name of course, but a close approximation of the typically unpronounceable Saurian name) was actually middle aged: he'd gone through three gender shifts already, and was now back to his male phase, of which he'd stay in for another fifteen to twenty Earth-years.

"I've looked forward to seeing you again, Colonel," T'Shani replied, her antennas slightly bowing in respect to her commanding officer. Though it was true that she was 'seeing' him again, this was really the first time to *meet* him, as the first time was over an encrypted subspace transmission.

"Good choice," she smiled as the on-stage band finished their song and announced that they'd be back in a few minutes. Not only was it a comfortable atmosphere for T'Shani, but it made sense: with the underlying rumble of conversation and eating, it would be hard for any snoops to listen in on their conversation.

J'Genthk motioned for the waiter.

Louise Markinson was painfully average in many ways. In her youth, it had been her downfall more often than not, though her quick mind and attention to detail had seen her easily through her her schoolwork. She'd always wanted to be liked, but she just... blended in. She wasn't outstanding enough to catch the attention of very many people.

But recently, all that had changed. Louise had only been working for Cass Henderson's SFI detachment for a few months now, since the Furies had arrived on board. He had seen in her what she had most despised about herself. The ability to blend into crowds, to disappear in plain sight. It was unconscious for her, and where once it was her worst fault, was now her greatest weapon.

Tonight she was dressed casually. She'd been fairly sure of where Lieutenant a'Akledorian was going, and had prepared accordingly. She'd kept a safe distance while following the Andorian woman to Baxter's.

While Louise - dubbed 'Mouse' by Henderson - was confident in her abilities to not be noticed, she knew that a'Akledorian was the superior agent, and thus exercised more than her usual amount of caution. Luck was with her, however, as the women's room was in an area just beyond the table that a'Akledorian was seating herself at. Heading for the women's room, she carefully dropped a listening 'bug' into the potted plant that sat next to the table.

The 'bug' - as it were - did as it was programmed to, and burrowed an inch into the soil, extending it's recorder behind it to just below the surface, where it could transmit safely from. By the time Louise Markinson sat down on the toilet, the receiver in her ear, the bug was firmly in place.

"Guh'even'n young lady," the black waiter with a rich Cajun accent bowed to T'Shani, "An' fine sir," he tipped his hand toward J'Genthk. "What'll it be fo' da dinnuh dis'even'n?"

"Atchafalaya Boiled Crawfish," T'Shani said without conferring the holomenu. She had been here more than once, as it turned out.

"Mertuskian Carspalashaye, with extra lemon," Gessekensett said. During every phaseover, he had an almost insatiable craving for citrus fruits. It didn't matter if they were Terran or Saurian; amazingly, there wasn't that much physical difference to them.

"Verruh'fine, Mons'wa," the waiter replied, writing the orders down on his padd. "Anuthin' ta drink fo' da nigh'?"

"Water."

Tish was going to ask for a Retaxian Sparkleblaster, but then thought better of it, remembering again what had happened the other night when Rex had brought the bottle of champagne over.

"Water," she said flatly.

Louise settled in for the long haul. She wasn't really planning on coming out of the bathroom unless there was a real need. No matter how easily she might slip through a crowd, she didn't want to risk it frequently in from of the Lieutenant, who knew her. Instead, she had used it to secure a less... open observation point.

Listening carefully, she sat through the ordering of food and privately wished that she too could eat. but that would have to wait.

"Colonel, I -" she was cut off by the wave of Gessekensett's long, four-fingered hand.

"Neither of us are in uniform this evening. And for the sake of those listening," he winked his inner eyelids at her, "you can just call me J'Genthk, T'Shani."

~Oh good grief,~ Louise's heart jumped in her chest as the one a'Akledorian had addressed as "Colonel" had cut her off.

Markinson carefully noted the name the Colonel had given for himself. ~I really need to be less skittish about these bugs. It's going to give me a heart attack.~

Tish pouted her lips out, flared her left antenna briefly, and shrugged. It *was* an informal meeting, after all. And she was dressed to kill, in a black-satin cocktail dress that hugged her body in all the right places. ~If only Cass were here,~ she sighed to herself. Hell, she'd even settle for Rex, right now. Just to be on a *real* date, instead of this cover-up for a rendezvous would have been nice.

Recomposing herself, she sat forward and said, "Fair enough, J'Genthk." Pausing, she tried to think of something to 'small-talk' about - as the Pinkskins called the ritual - while they waited for their food. Tish had to admit that she was somewhat spoiled by starship life: you could just order whatever you wanted from the replicator, and it was... *voila!*... there. From time to time, she had to remind herself that some places, such as this one, prepared food the old-fashioned way.

"J'Genthk," she started again. "I never properly thanked you for your sponsorship. When Colonel Markay'd'in informed me of the offer, I was - in no small measure - surprised."

Louise quickly committed the mention of Colonel Markay'd'in to memory, as well. Though a'Akledorian was a known Red Division member (as was Markay'd'in), the fact that this J'Genthk had introduced the two would bear looking into.

Again, he waved his blue hand in the air. "It was no problem. Actually, Tanner had more to do with it; Alindal was only the messenger. The General felt bad about having to let you go, after the Bajor Incident. Although he's barred from communicating with you, he wanted me to express his gratitude for your services, as well as apologies for what happened."

Tish smirked, causing her left antenna to simultaneously twitch. "Well, who was I to know that the Hydrans would come looking for their lost crystal on Bajor, of all places. They nearly destroyed the Valkyrie. Captain Novonya wasn't very happy about that...it was her baby."

Both of the Marines fell silent as the waiter returned to their table with their orders.

~Now that's strange,~ Louise thought. Commander Henderson had elaborated to her once, during her training, about his visit to Bajor to find the tactical girl... Pennington. She remembered his explanation about the battle with K'rath'nam's battlecruiser. But if the Hydrans had been looking for something else on Bajor...

~Interesting.~

"I heard Henderson survived?" J'Genthk asked offhandedly, while stirring the plate of Carspalashaye.

Tish sighed, stabbing her fork at the crawfish. "Yes, he certainly did. He's back to being the XO on the Galaxy... *again*." ~And he still doesn't notice me,~ she thought to herself.

The Colonel chewed, swallowed, took a drink of his water (swallowing the lemon wedge, in the process), and smiled. "I hear that his SFI clearances have been reinstated," he mentioned casually, again.

Tish wondered where J'Genthk was going with this. True, she had *helped* Cassius to get his clearances back, per his helping her at Rel'kessan. Wary, she met the Saurian's large, unblinking eyes. "Yes, they have."

"And that doesn't bother you, having been in Houghton's outfit?"

Subconsciously, Tish changed her tone to that of defensive, "No, he and I have an..." she paused to think of the proper word, a forkful of food near her mouth, " 'understanding', I would call it. He doesn't spy on me, and I make sure that his clearance stays intact." Her eyes sparkled mischievously as a wan smile crossed her lips. Then she took a bite of her meal.

Louise grinned. Well, Henderson wasn't exactly spying on her, so to speak.

J'Genthk smiled again, having played the 'game' against intelligence-types for as long as he had served in the SFMC. It was his background, his lifeblood. After basic training at Camp Utopia on Mars, the SFMCI had tapped him to be the eyes and ears of the 47th Tactical Reconnaissance Battalion. He had been everywhere, from Century Prime in the Alpha Quadrant, to Beta Cordalis in the Beta Quadrant, and some 'in-between' missions in the other two quadrants.

"How are your teams, T'Shani? What do you think of your XO and Team Leaders?" he probed while sucking another string of the Carspalashaye into his mouth.

Tish caught herself before rolling her eyes. "Branwen London is young, inexperienced, and not battle-tested," she paused, taking a sip of her water, then set it down. "That being said, she has much potential, if she decides to take it upon her to - how do the Pinkskins say? - 'grow a pair'?"

"I haven't met Ward yet. He's been busy with alot of personnel reassignments in his team."

"I see."

Tish set her fork down. "Which brings me to Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile. He - "

J'Genthk interjected, "Second Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile, formerly of the Black Crows under Caileb Smiths. Numerous Secret and Top-Secret mission ops, especially during the Dominion War. Awarded the Bronze star with a second cluster. Violent temper when provoked."

~Well, I guess I won't have to look up Lieutenant Baile's file before I report back in,~ she thought to herself, continuing to take notes on her padd. So far, the conversation seemed fairly tame, but perhaps going over the recording for code would prove more fruitful. ~Though the mention of the Black Crows could be worth looking into. It's a little surprising to see a past member in the Furies~

Tish gave her CO an appraising look. "So, you're telling me to be careful?"

"I am. But not for reasons you might think, T'Shani," J'Genthk said while lowering his voice and leaning forward. His cool bluish-purple skin flushed darker, almost black. "There are mice in the bilge, T'Shani."

"Ah, shit," Markinson muttered. Slipping into wordplay generally meant the target was growing suspicious, more cautious. She could only imagine that somehow, through the crowd, the Saurian had noticed her. She paused for a moment, waiting for more before making a decision. She had other methods.

Instinctively Tish froze, her eyes widening and antennas perking before her higher faculties regained control of her senses. She recognized the code immediately, and thought of the proper reply that she had been trained to give.

Setting down her fork as nonchalantly as she could, she looked J'Genthk straight in the eye. "What of the deckhands?"

"Standing watch, for now. Though, the infestation is small."

"Have they been trapped?"

"No, but they could drown."

"Ah, fuck fuck fuck," Louise muttered, grateful that the ladies room wasn't very busy tonight. Thankfully, her Handler had taught her the translation to that particular code exchange. Unfortunately, that didn't leave her any closer to understanding.

Though she had learned that a'Akledorian and the Saurian Colonel knew that the Furies were infiltrated, she wasn't sure if they were on to her. The last part had translated to a slip up, which she was fairly sure she hadn't committed.

Which left the woman known as 'Mouse' wondering. Was there another infiltrator in the Furies? Aside from herself, of course.

Tish tried to hide it as best as she could, but she was nervous. What was J'Genthk talking about? Was it Starfleet Intel? Temporal Agents? Or was it... she swallowed hard as she realized what the Colonel was telling her.

If it was true, that meant.... ~Well, there's only one way to know,~ she concluded to herself. And there was only one way to find out if she could trust the Saurian sitting across from her implicitly.

"The rowers keep on rowing," she stated in a detached voice.

"That's odd..." she said, quirking an eyebrow. She'd have to ask Cass about it, but given that the previous exchange had mentioned the counter-intel plants in Furies, she doubted that she'd been 'made' just yet, and was probably secure for the time being.

"What's odd, dear?" an elderly voice came from the next stall. Louise nearly leaped from the toilet, her nerves were so on end.

"Nuh... nothing really. Just something in the paper," she quickly recalled the proper response in case she was discovered in the bathroom, reaching into her bag to rustle a newspaper.

~Oh, get a grip, Lou,~ she told herself, then continued to listen.

J'Genthk Gessekensett had been waiting a long time to find the One that the Prophecies had talked of. It was the sole reason he had put so much of his life's work into what he did. And now...

"And they're certainly not showing...."

Tish's hearts literally skipped a beat, as she realized the implications of J'Genthk's ability to complete the code. Slowly, she finished the rest of the response with him, their two voices barely whispering over the din of the restaurant.

"...any signs that they are slowing."

Louise Markinson, growing up on Talvas Colony, had heard a lot of strange things, but this had to be the strangest. Cass would be very interested to hear the recording of this. She hadn't the faintest what it all meant, but when they debriefed, she was sure her handler would be able to put the pieces together.

Tish felt as if she were going to faint. The blood drained from her face, leaving her almost white. Her antennas drooped low over her forehead while she closed her eyes.

"T'Shani, I...I didn't know it was you," J'Genthk solemnly whispered. "I-"

Suddenly, she rose from her seat, and turned to look over her shoulder. Was someone watching them? Listening to them? Her intel-training kicked in, noting everything happening in the restaurant: the bartender wiping down the bar at the far end... the happy couple holding hands and kissing in a darkened corner... the band taking the stage again.

"T'Shani, are you alright?" J'Genthk's face grew concerned.

"I... I just need to-" she stopped, mid-sentence. "You should go. I will contact you later. Goodnight, Colonel."

"Goodnight," Markinson whispered, placing the recording padd back into the bag, leaving it running and her earpiece in her ear. The 'bug' would break down in two hours, without a trace.

She sighed. She was going to have to wake up Cass again. He was going to want to hear about this.

J'Genthk was about to protest her abrupt dismissal, but thought better of it. He *was* her CO, and could have ordered her to stay, but from what he had just discovered, he knew that a power much larger than him was backing T'Shani a'Akledorian. A power that he didn't want to cross. No, he would let her go, knowing she would contact him when the time was right. The Grayman had told him that *that* was the way it had to be done.

T'Shani quickly turned left, then right, and then spotted the women's restroom. She needed a place to collect her thoughts...

~Rhooz,~ she swore as a sharp, stabbing pain flashed across her forehead, causing her to stumble momentarily as she made her way to the bathroom door.

Collecting herself, she pushed the door in and turned the corner. Suddenly, a wave of nausea overwhelmed her, in addition to the searing headache at the base of her neck. Panicked, she rushed for the first toilet stall, mentally willing herself not to lose her dinner all over the tile floor.

"Thuk!" she swore as she found the stall locked.

Louise froze, recognizing the voice instantly. Then her training kicked in, and she altered her voice, ever so slightly. "Busy, I'm sorry."

Tish moved to the next one, which was now empty. Violently slamming the door open, she fell to her knees before retching into the porcelain.

It was time to make a snap decision. Feigning having just arrived, she undid her skirt and made an act of preparing to use the bathroom. Thankfully, sitting there had caused her bladder to slowly fill, so she wouldn't have to try to figure out how to fake peeing.

Markinson sat and listened, continuing the observation in an impromptu way.

After a minute or two, T'Shani stopped vomiting, and collapsed on the floor against the stall's wall, one arm still encircling the toilet.

"Rhooz," she swore softly, wiping the bile from her mouth. Unfortunately, the emptying of her stomach hadn't abated the headache or nausea, that much.

She closed her eyes, her antennas slowly teetering forward and backward. She needed an Aspirin... or something stronger. Re-opening her eyes, she raised one hand to shield her eyes from the suddenly-bright light coming from the overhead fluorescent tubes.

"Rhooz," Tish swore again.

~Yeah, yeah, Lieutenant, we understand you have a foul mouth,~ Louise thought to herself. ~Please tell me that you talk to yourself... Not that there's a snowball's chance in hell that you do.~

Tish regained her senses, stood, and braced herself against the stall as she felt her knees weaken. Her body was still trembling from the exertion of its purge. She had to get out, had to talk to someone who might understand...

She flushed the toilet, exited the stall, and washed her face rinsed her mouth at the sink, before hurriedly exiting the bathroom.

~I have mice to kill,~ T'Shani a'Akledorian thought as the door closed behind her.

Louise ducked out of the room a moment later, eyes quickly scanning the crowd and plotting the easiest, least visible route to the exit. Once she was certain she hadn't been noticed or followed, she made her way back to her quarters, where she'd contact Henderson.

"Just someone to listen"

Lt. Commander Brianna "Anna" O'Shea, Chief Engineer / Liaison SCE
2nd. Lt. Jebidiah Baile, Recon Specialist, USS Galaxy

Brianna had gotten off duty and was still thinking about Nara. The very sight of her at times turned Anna's stomach to end, she knew why. Anna wanted Nara to walk the same strict line of standards she held for herself, clearly Nara wasn't going to do that. Part of her didn't know what to do cause she felt something should happen for what Nara did. Stepping up on the treadmill she began to walk, and then began to run at full pace, taking the offered run as a chance to sweat it out of her system.

The exercise had gone well. Or so Bravo believed. Everyone except Bravo Leader. 2nd Lt Jebidiah Baile, aka Flea to his friends. Donut was the first one out from the Holodeck, exchanging insults and friendly jabs with Preacher.

Baile waited until everyone had gathered outside, feeling just as angry as he looked. He could hear them laughing and joking as he walked out into the corridor. "APES." he yelled at the top of his lungs. "GLAD YOU'RE ALL HAVING FUN CAUSE I SURE AS SHIT AIN'T. THE NEXT MAN WHO SAYS ANYTHING BETTER MAKE ME LAUGH OR HE'LL WISH HIS MOTHER HAD TAKEN HOLY VOWS OF CELIBACY BEFORE HE WAS BORN!"

Bravo team fell silent. Very silent.

Feeling the sweat trickle down her neck and seep into the fabric of her shirt, Anna took a deep breath and exhaled through her mouth as she continued to run. Her red hair had become dark red as it became wet with her sweat, strands began to stick to her forehead. The way she ran looked almost primal, like she was running for her very life.

The members of Bravo team had early understood that their new boss had extremely high standards and no tolerance for failure. That wasn't exactly true though. Baile had a lot of tolerance for failures if people learned from them and didn't make them again. But certain members of Bravo made mistakes, a bad habit Baile intended to remove or kill them in the process.

He continued to chew their heads off for a few minutes, just for good measure, even yelling at an ensign from Operations for dragging his feet behind him. "Dismissed. Leave before I make up my mind and put you out of your misery." the veteran marine barked at them.

"Gladys!" Baile yelled at Donut as he was about to leave. Donut, not wanting to piss off his El-Tee, turned around and quickly ran up to Baile and stood attention.

"Sir!"

"Head to the gym, on the double and wait for me there. Bring gloves."

"Yes Sir!" Donut saluted, turned around and ran to catch up the others.

"What was that all about?" Preacher asked, seeing Donut run by them.

"Mister I'm-so-bad wants to go a few rounds in the gym.." Donut replied as he ran by them.

Preacher watched the talkative Marine disappear infront of them. "That should teach him to shut up."

"I doubt it." someone replied with a grin, everyone there knowing it was the sad truth.

After about thirty-five minutes of running, Anna stopped and had to sit down. Sweating so it was dripping off her as she leaned over and rested her elbows on her knees. Taking a towel she patted her face and then patted her neck as she reached over and took a drink from a water bottle she had brought with her.

Baile almost hoped Donut would be delayed. The thought of promoting him was.... irritating.. at the best, but he also saw the potential in Donut. He could become a good Marine, but it wouldn't be easy. Walking inside Baile tossed a towel and his gloves at the edge of the ring, only noticing Anna when he turned around. "Fleeters... " he sighed and grinned in good humor.

Anna didn't see or hear Baile, her mind and thoughts was thousand miles from her. Looking at the floor between her feet she took several long breaths before she could actually feel herself cooling off some. patting her face once more she then looked up and noticed Baile standing there and she nodded a nod as he looked at her.

"Rough year, huh?" Baile commented in his usual oh so very sensitive and delicate way while wrapping his hands in preparation for the spar against Donut.

"Something like that." Anna replied, standing she walked over to him and began to help him wrap his hands. "Just keeps getting better and better." She then said.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked and held out his hands. Better to let her focus on something else for a few seconds.

"Isn't it you that tells me talking is for people who have a conscious?" Anna asked, her eyes looking up at his face. "Besides, not sure talking about it would help resolve it." She said, continuing to tape his hands.

He shrugged slightly. "I know I don't have a conscious, you on the other hand think you don't.." Baile replied and clenched the hand that was taped down.

"Just got several things going on, one of which I don't know how to fix and the other I know how I want to fix but probably can't." She said, finishing taping the other hand. Once she was done she put the tape back on the rack and made sure the seams were sealed. "The Crows are partly to blame why I am like I am..." She said then smiled softly, half talking about a prior life. "I have a hard time relating to other women, because I spent so much time with the Crows. Right now I find most women weak and whiney, and you showed me how to spot wannabe marine type a while away...." She said, then moved to her water bottle.

"Crows are to blame?" Baile cocked an eyebrow while moving over to a sandbag. "How the hell did that happen? Yeah.. you spent time with us, but you haven't seen nothing compared to what we saw or did." he commented, not as a defence or trying to sound better than her, but stating facts. In part he could understand her. Starfleet hadn't exactly done her a favor when sending her out in the middle of nowhere on a mission that never took place on a planet they had never gone to. They had been Marines, with training and experience to back it up. She was a tinkerer, which in itself was not a bad occupation, but she fixed things. They blew them up.

"You still don't get it, didn't get it then, don't expect you'll get it now." Anna said, turning she picked up her towel and walked over to the replicator to recycle it and get something else to drink. "So hard sometimes that I forget how you are... should remember of all things your not the one to come to when you need someone." She said, then looked over at him. Anna didn't mean it in a insultive way, if anything, she knew Baile would understand that.

He landed a couple of hard blows on the bag, pushed it back as it swung towards him. "You're comparing people to me, Colonel Caileb, Saar and Beauchamps?" he asked and gave the back a few more heavy punches. "Don't.. Everyone in the unit was messed up in the head and still is. I can slit throats all day and not give it a second thought, but fuck if I can be in a relationship that lasts longer than one night."

"I'm not comparing anyone to you!" Anna snapped, she then closed her eyes. "Just forget it." She said, picked up her water bottle. "Enjoy your work out." Brianna said, as she headed for the door.

"Then quit fucking about and get to the point." Baile replied while punching the bag. That was the Marine way. No politics, no beating around the bush. He didn't mean any harm by it. It was just the way he was. Direct and to the point.

Anna looked at him and then sighed. "Wouldn't want you to care..." She said, looking at him and then walked out of the gym just as Donut came in. Anna headed down the corridor, figuring she'd have to sort this all out on her own for now.

"For the love of... " Baile mumbled and slammed the bag as hard as he could before going after the hotheaded woman. "Why do I even bother... "

Anna had made it to the turbolift, she stood there with her arms folded over her body. Her mind replaying the events of everything that was just exchanged and wondered if she was the one at fault or was it him.

onut ran as quickly as he could, totally convinced the old bugger would kill him for being late. The doors opened and he nearly ran smack into a really goodlooking redhead. He was about to shoot her one of his patented smiles when he saw Baile come out from the gym with a dark face and taped fists.

Anna only looked at the man briefly, as she walked across the hall to wait on the arrival of the turbolift. Folding her arms over her body she looked at the lift doors, then reached out and pressed the call button again.

Donut didn't know how to salute first, but his commanding officer solved the dilemma for him. "Donut, Gladys.. I know the Lord didn't provide you with a full deck of cards, but know this.. if you are not inside of the gym in ten seconds I'll shove your head up your ass so you gain a little insight of yourself.. "

Donut decided quickly he was fairly educated about himself and who he was and moved on.

When Donut turned the corner Baile looked at Anna. "You want to talk, then I'll listen.. you go all Rita Heyworth drama queen on me - then I won't.. and I won't feel bad for not doing it."

Looking over at him. "I want you to listen because you care, I always fool myself in that aspect, Jeb. " She said, looking at him. "I want you to listen cause you care and want to understand me, but don't think you want that, or your just not capable of that kind of thing anymore." She said. "Your my best friend, around you I don't have to be strong, cause you don't expect it..." She said, then pressed the call button again.

The Marine stood silent for a second then shrugged. He didn't line, no - he despised people who thought they were victims, who didn't stand up and took their fates into their own hands. But Anna. Well. With Anna it was a bit different. She had been forced to witness things she had not been prepared for, been confronted with truths that she was never meant to be given.

Baile rolled his neck, pushing back a slight irritation. "Then just say what it is. I'm too tired and got too much shit in my head to have to sort through what is being said between the lines." That had always been his call sign. Direct and to the point. He never meant anything by it, it was just his way of learning what people really wanted, but to people that didn't know him he could sound very aggressive.

Turning to him she stepped closer, "I need you." She said. "I need your strength.. you lack luster voice of reason." Anna said. "I'm engaged, Jeb. To a person who works under me in MY department. I don't know what to do about that, surely you can even see the conflix of interests involved?" She said, resisting the urge to hug him just to feel his strength.

He leaned against the wall with his bare arms crossed. Absentminded he scratched one of the tattoos on his arm. "Shit.. " was all he said. She knew his point of view on it. Relationships within a Marine unit was strictly forbidden. The risks were just too great. Loyalties could no longer be trusted.

But at the same time that didn't matter. She was a fleeter and things were different there, whether they thought so or not.

"That's.. not good.."

Shaking her head. "No... I have to figure out a solution, or Henderson will and could mean one of us transferred off the ship." Anna said, as she looked at him. "I don't know what to do." She said softly.

"I wish I could tell you. I really do." Baile replied, keeping his face as neutral as he could. "But I'm not the right person to give advice about it.. My solution to a problem usually involves bruises and sickbay." He smiled weakly, not really sure of what to do. Seeing Anna like this wasn't something he liked, but he could just be there. It was her life and she would have to live in it.

Anna nodded, "You know.... " She said, as the turbolift doors opened. "You really are my best friend." She said, looking at him.

"Then you need to get better friends." he replied, both his face and voice as serious as they could get. "I'm honored that you see me as that, but you need friends with a less.. dark.. frame of mind and past."

Stepping inside the lift, she rested her hand on the frame so the doors wouldn't close. "No.. need you, Jeb. Your the one that guides me when I'm in the dark... and I just need a friend, doesn't matter what you are inside, or what you think you are, just matters what I see in there." She said, then looked at him a moment and then hugged him tightly, before turning and stepping into the lift with the doors closing behind her.

He watched the doors close and stood there for a few seconds. "Women.. who the hell can understand them?" he asked himself and pushed away from the bulkhead. He liked Anna, more as the sister he never had and certainly hoped his two-bit losers to parents never gave birth to, but he hoped that one day she would reach the same conclusion as he had. It was just life and it really wasn't that complicated.

Walking back to the gym he punched a few times in thin air. Donut might have cleared the Marine Academy, but he wouldn't have made it past the doorstep with Special Ops. By the time Baile would be done with him, however long that would take, he would at least be able to make it to the receptionist.

"Trying"

Lt. Commander Brianna "Anna" O'Shea, Chief Engineer
Lt. Ella Grey, Assistant Chief Engineer
Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineer
Ensign Marcus Slayton, Engineer

:: Chief Engineers Office, Main Engineering, USS Galaxy:::

Anna sat in her office, waiting on the others to arrive. She had called a meeting to go over them some changes that would be happen in engineering, some would take some time to getting used to while others might be better then the current status quo. Sipping her coffee, then looked at her engagement ring and smiled as she then looked over the data padd with her notes in it.

Nara glanced over at the door to the Chief's office as she stood at the console. Normally, she would go ahead and enter, not caring about being first. Now, with the tension already between her and her boss, she really didn't want to be alone with O'Shea waiting in silence. She would go in after at least one more person came in. So she worked at her console and kept glancing over every few moments.

After awhile, she wondered what if the first person was late. Nara frowned heavily. She had a paranoia that by coming early, O'Shea would think she was brown nosing. That was something Nara never did. Were this the Klingon ship, Nara would had killed her by now. She winced at her own gruesome thought.

It was cold and evil and Nara regretted it. This is one reason she couldn't live among full fledged Klingons who didn't know how to behave among other species. She couldn't kill or even hurt anyone until she was angry or in the "zone." That zone a warrior gets in. The zone is when no one dare attack. The zone that often leaves dark scars on one's soul and blood on one's hands.

Nara walked into the office and realized no one else was there yet. She went to attention and hoped someone else would come soon. There was too much tension between her and O'Shea. Waiting alone was just a big fat awkward moment.

Ella walked in and waved a small hello to Nara before sitting down. Mostly, she just wanted to get this meeting over so she could go back in and take a nap. She hadn't been sleeping well again since the thing with Victor and she couldn't bring herself to go back over there at night. It was time for her to stop sleeping over anyway; she was becoming too dependant on him.

She wondered if there was any special reason for this meeting, other than just a check up on where everyone was. Ella hoped not, she didn't feel like taking on extra duties at the moment.

Nara gave a smile to Ella. She relaxed a bit more having someone else in the room. Even if that person refused to speak much at all.

"Ella," Anna said smiling briefly as she looked at her trusted assistant. She then looked over at Nara, "Ensign." She said. "Feel free to get you some something to drink from the replicator while we wait on the others to arrive... should be on their way." She said, as she picked up the raktijeno and took a drink.

Nara pondered that a moment. Did she want something to drink? She wasn't sure. She might later, so she simply said, "Thank you." The word, Ensign, just hung in her ear. She tried to tell herself it may had just been a slip of tongue. That didn't help. Nara tried to fight the image of herself and O'Shea on a Klingon ship and Nara promoting herself. It would be saved for later, when she was safe to think about it without the temptation to actually do it.

Marcus was running a little late as he had to make a stop by his quarters in order to make sure that he had to have the right reports and files on hand and by the time that he arrived in Anna's office, Anna and two other members of the main staff of engineering including Ella Grey, the assistant Chief of Engineering and another fellow engineer in the form of a short brunette woman with a slightly furrowed look on her brow.

Marcus quickly set his assorted PADDS on the table in front of the spot where he was going to sit and quickly got a root beer from the replicator and then sat down, slightly out of breath.

Nara noticed the currently only male enter and settle in. He obviously rushed here and Nara was almost amused at his hurried state. She felt it would be ok to get something from the replicator, but she wasn't sure what she wanted. She figured she needed something just in case she got a tickle in her throat. Last thing she needed to happed was a coughing fit. She timidly got some water and sat at another spot at the table, a few places from the man.

Anna sat there at the table the entire time, her eyes shifted from person to person. "This is a casual meeting, nothing really major going to be happening over the next day or so. I want to start having weekly meetings like this where we can sit down and talk casually about work or anything else we want to talk about. Nothing is off topic," Anna said, as she stood up and walked over to the replicator and ordered up some doughnuts on a plate and walked back over and sat down. Taking one she slid the plate out if anyone would want some. "I'll start.." Anna said, taking a bite of her doughnut and then pausing for a minute to swallow the bite.

"I need you all to know why I push you like I do. At times I probably seem more bitchy then others and some of you seem to take perminate residence on my bitch list. I push you because I care, and I want you to never doubt yourself in what you do. I don't want you waking up one day and thinking, should have done this and should have done that. See think of you all like this... I'm your guide, you voice of reason, your teacher, your friend, your caregiver and your commanding officer. I want you to rely on me as I want to rely on you. This ship's engineering department will always be special to me, mainly cause it's my ship, the first ship I because sole chief of. Man once said never let them promote you above Captain, because once you read Admiral all you've got is memories." Anna said, leaning back and crossing her legs. "My memories will be of you all, each laugh, each broken heart over a lost love, or each dream you tell me will become my memories. I still remember the first time Ella and I met, right down to what perform she wore. I don't want you to fear me, but I hope you do understand why I ride you all like I do." Anna said, then took a sip of her raktijeno to get the sweet taste out of her mouth.

"Just so you all know... I'm engaged... yes, finally have met my match and someone has decided they can put up with me. I know, big surprise. I've waited a while for him to come around, he finally did." She said, then smiled and took another bite of her doughnut.

Ella raised her eyebrow. It was more than she was used to from a commanding officer, definitely a different approach, but not totally unwelcome. But she wasn't going to offload her problems, however friendly they all were. "Congratulations." Ella said. "Who's the lucky fellow?"

Nara glanced at Ella. It was no surprise she now had voice of some sort, but Nara was still getting used to it.

"Thank you." Anna replied, "Who it is something I'm keeping quiet right now." She replied then grinned and then handed out some padds. "As for the other reasons why I wanted this meeting..." She said, pausing to let them get their padds so they could follow along. "I've noticed that it's been some time since we've went over the support craft... so beginning today we are going to run level one diagnostics and manual inspections of ever runabout, shuttle craft and even the captains yacht, right down to the work bees."

Nara took her PADD. This was an easy enough thing. It would take awhile and she felt kind of ashamed she hadn't realized this. She looked up about to say something, but looked back down at her PADD before O'Shea saw her. George Kastanza was SUPPOSED to be over all the shuttles and such, but it was no surprise he wasn't doing the job well. He was too busy hooking up. She looked over the list and nodded. Yes, easily done.

"Ella, gonna make your task to make sure all craft are checked out. I'm going to be devoting my time the port nacelle. There's been some spikes in couple of the diagnostics. I'm going to work there in port nacelle control room. We need to figure out what it is, if anything." Anna said, then sipped her coffee. "Take Marc, Nara, and anyone else you want to help you." Anna said, as she looked at Ella and then looked around. "Is there anything else to ask or be said?" She asked, getting ready to end the meeting, which was a total flop.

Nara glanced up, "No, M'am."

Marcus held up a hand with a PADD. "Actually, I think that I may have an idea to fix the engineering sub-systems so that no one but certain ship's personnel can ever do what was done to us over Trill can be done again." he said. "Also, I think that we might want to think about doing kind of a resetting of all passwords for command personnel when it comes to certain aspects of the ship. I read the file on the ship's former commanding officer in Admiral Brhode and we still have his password settings in the main engineering computer database logged as one of the ship's primary and not on an admiral's level either." Marcus said as he offered the PADD towards Anna.

Nara looked at Marcus and thought to herself, ~Butt-kisser.~ In fact, she was just jealous she hadn't thought of that. One point for Marcus, negative 100 points for Nara. So far, her job was getting annoying. The work she liked, it was the frelling people. Except for Mei, she was the only person there she liked. Everyone else was barely tolerable or she didn't know well enough to be annoyed by.

"We'll start implementing this as soon as possible." Anna said, looking over the data padd. "Do you have -something- to add, Lieutenant?" Anna asked, glancing now at Nara. "You look like your thinking something, want to share?" Anna asked.

Nara looked at O'Shea in the eyes, "Nothing to add, M'am. Just thinking it's a good idea."

"Good." Anna said, then looked around. "Won't keep you all then, tomorrow morning we'll began on all this," Anna said holding the data padd up. "Rest up, that's all I can say, next couple days is going to be tough." She said then stood. "Dimissed.." She said, walked from the table over to her desk to make some notes.

“Storm Clouds”

Location: Leran Manev View Hospital, Room 8 Intensive care ward

Primary character: Dhanishta Eshe (APC)

Also featuring Ethan Suder (NPC)

And Kerenza Eshe (NPC)

Dhanishta crouched on all fours, looking up wide eyed at the cloud forming on the horizon. She knew it was coming for her. She could feel it, sense it. She watched in terror as it gathered speed. Her fingers dug into the earth beneath her. Her chest tightened and heat coursed through her body. The fear gripped her and shook her to her very core.

The thunder rumbled through the ground, vibrating the earth beneath her. Dhanishta stared on, dumbfounded, paralysed with fear. Her eyes searched the desert. It was barren and empty. Totally devoid of life. Like her, she mused. At this point in time she would expect her heart to be thumping against her ribcage like a horse in canter. But there was no beat, just a sensation; like someone was pushing her ribs into her lungs, crushing her from within.

Another crack of light spewed from above, bathing her and the sand in its eerie shards of white light.

The energy hovered in the air. Like a snake it danced before her in the darkened sky. As another crack of thunder roared, the lightening struck, splitting the sky. The blue snake wriggled in the air and as the lightening passed through it, it split; tearing through the fibbers of reality.

And there, in the sky hung, like a ragged piece of cloth torn from a patchwork quilt, a vision of another world.

The real world.

The world that Dhanishta had escaped from, hidden from.

Dhanishta stared, her eyes wide. This was like the portal she had watched her self fight Suder in… but this one was different. The energy used to show her this, to pull this into her world, to break down the walls that she had created, was immense. The energy still crackled around the tare, like ribbons fluttering in the wind.

Slowly Dhani rose to her feet. She forced herself to stand and to walk. To see what the cosmos needed her to see.

As she drew closer the light shimmered. It took her a while to understand and recognise the images before her.

This room she looked into was dark at first, until her eyes adjusted. And then the images became clearer. Inside this room she could see a bed. A girls’ lifeless body lay under a white sheet. And a woman leaned over her.

Dhani looked closer, with all her strength she manoeuvred towards the image. Like looking at a picture on the wall, she squinted as she tried to make out the details before her.

The woman leaning over the girl was pale. Her features were slightly sharp. She had dark hair that curled into ringlets and her eyes were black.

Dhanishta half shrugged at the picture before her, a frown crossing her face. She turned and looked at the girl. Her skin was dull, her dark hair was tangled and straw looking. Her eyes were closed and she had strange markings running from her forehead, down her neck and across her shoulders, disappearing under the sheet.

Dhanishta pulled away from the image. She didn’t understand.

“If I could take back all the truly awful things I’ve done, I would. If it meant that you would live, I would walk off a cliff.” Her voice was soft, a whisper.

Dhani heard the voice. She turned and looked closer at the image; watched the woman as she took hold of the girls’ hand.

“If I could live my life over, I would tell you that I love you, every day of your existence.” her voice began to waver.

Dhani frowned. Her head tilted to one side, cat like in her nature, as she stared on.

“I would tell you how proud I am of you.” her voice broke and she began to cry harder.

Dhani shrugged again at the image. ~What is this?~ she questioned. ~What does this woman and this girl have to do with me? I don’t understand.~ She wanted to scream at the cosmos, or whatever it was. Shaking her head she turned from the image.

The dust cloud was advancing. And her fear had left her. Maybe that was the point of the image. She looked out across the sand. Everything felt strange to her. She was suffocating… or so she thought. But it seemed to take a long time. Or had all this happened in a second? What was a second anyway? She sat down on the sand and pondered.

“I would tell you that you are truly amazing.” her voice rose as she tried to combat the sobs.

Dhani paid no attention to the voice as she contemplated her existence. The sudden vacancy of her fear was astounding, and not to mention strange. Maybe it was like pain. One you know about it, the overwhelming sensation leaves so you can deal with it. She stared at the cloud that swirled towards her, eyebrows raised.

“I would tell you that you are beautiful… that you are everything to me… you are my life Dhanishta…. you are my daughter and…. And…. I love you so much.”

Dhani turned sharply back towards the image. She stood up and stared, watching the woman lean forwards and scoop the girl into her arms.

“Dhani…” her voice gave up as the fit of tears consumed her. She shook as she held Dhanis body tighter and tighter.

Dhani stood ridged, her chest tightening more. What was this? She questioned again. Was this…? And that…? That girl… and that woman. Was that woman …

“You’re my little girl.” She half screamed, “You’re my baby… I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU!”

Her mother?

****

Entering the bar Ethan side stepped a fight and made his way across the room.

"Round, round, get around, I get around." The tune caught in his head as he stood waiting to be served, "I'm getting bugged driving up and down the same old strip, I gotta find a new place where the kids are hip." He continued singing under his breath, remembering the last time he had sung this tune. It was months ago, back on the galaxy…

"Round, round, get around, I get around." he started singing for some reason. He wasn't sure why, but he had heard that song somewhere and was stuck in his head. He turned the corner from the brightly lit corridor into a dark section that still had bulkheads everywhere. There were scorch marks all the way down the corridor. Several engineers looking tired and beat up were busy welding new bulkheads back into place or fixing computer system here and there. Ethan's singing had come to a stop, but he quickly shrugged and made his way down a different corridor, which like the first, had been repaired. "I'm getting bugged driving up and down the same old strip, I gotta find a new place where the kids are hip." He continued singing.

Turning round the next corner, he suddenly stopped and looked up at his Bolian friend, Jiiles. His singing seemed to stop abruptly also. He cleared his throat and looked around innocently before finally meeting Jiiles's surprised stare. "Sup?"he asked.

Jiiles at first shrugged, but then responded, "Your singing. You have a couple of bags packed, your guitar." He stated pointing at the bags Suder was carrying over his shoulders and the case in his left hand. "Where you off to?"

"I'm heading out to the Klingon Homeworld." Ethan said with a smile.

Jiiles stepped back with open arms and a big smile. "Get out of here, Ethan!" he began. "You’re going to go find the lady and tell her about the world that can't exist without her?" he asked as if to rub it in.

Suder gave another smile and a nod and continued walking down the corridor, friend in tow. "I figured now's a good chance you know. Repairs are going well. I could probably use a couple of weeks to rest a little, and I'm in the mood to go find her."

"Damn, that shit is whack!" Jiiles added, to quote a popular 'Suder' phrase. They both had a slight giggle. "Why not just call her up sub-space style?"

"Because I'd rather get this over and done with in person. I can just show up, find out she's married with kids or something and say that I was just in the area doing an Engineering Conference with the Klingon Engineering council. It would be a little stupid to just call her up after all these years, 'just to catch up' wouldn't it?" he asked.

"Could be. Well, I'm off to help with the guys bring some stuff down for Engineering. But I'll catch up with you on your way back."

Ethan gave Jiiles a joyful handshake before turning round a corner and heading down towards what was left of the shuttlebay. Hopefully, it was in better condition. "My buddies and me are getting real well known, yeah the bad guys know us and they leave us alone." he continued to sing.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

A loud gruff voice broke through Ethan’s memories.

“Kay” he replied the feeling from that day still coursing through his body. He looked up and saw the mightily pissed of Klingon bar tender peering at him, his eyes narrowing on the betazoid.

Confusion crossed Ethans face, followed by realisation. “I want Kay.” He repeated. “I always bloody have!” His face lit up. Reaching over he patted the bewildered Klingon on the shoulder and grinned widely.

****

Dhani stared at the image. That was her mother. But her mother had never said those words. She had never held her like that. Never showed her compassion or love…

Was this a past image? Or a future one? Or was this happening now?

She watched the woman, her mother, cradle the girl, herself. Rocking back and forth, repeating her words over and over,

“I love you. I love you”

Dhanis nose began to itch as tears formed in her eyes, “Mom?” she questioned.

Kerenza shouted until her throat became hoarse; “I love you. I love you.”

“MOM!” Dhani shouted, “I’m here!”

Tears cascaded down Kerenzas face flowing on to Dhanishtas. And still she cried out; “I love you.”

“MOM!” Dhani screamed, “Mom I’m here. I can *hear* you. MOM?” she pleaded to the image, her hands shaking at her sides.

Kerenza cried until her voice was barley audible and still she whispered; “I love you.”

“MOM!” Dhani screamed with all her might. “MOM….MOM I LOVE YOU TOO! Please hear me, mom…. MOM!” Dhanis whole body shook, vibrating as she screamed. She pawed the image. She could feel her mothers arms wrapped around her. Feel her tears as they splashed on her face. Taste them as they rolled across her lips….

The thunder roared again as the dark clouds swirled above her. The image flashed and disappeared as the lightening lit up the sky. The heavens opened and the rain began to fall. Dhani collapsed to the dirt ground her outstretched hands grasping for the image of her mother. The rain beat down on her body, mixed with the sand forming puddles of mud around her. Her tears splashed from her face and mingled with the rising water.

The cloud of dust sucked the sand from the ground, leaving nothing in its wake. Dhanishta could only watch as it began to consume everything. The house in the valley trembled as the twister passed. The light that hung in the porch flickered out and the roof tiles began to shake.

One by one, at first, they quivered and rattled. And then soon all of them shook sounding like a percussion band. And then the twister sucked them into its centre, picking them off, like cherries from a tree. And soon the entire house was pulled from its foundations.

As the twister passed the creator it sucked the forming images of the Galaxy, gobbling them up, increasing its size.

“Mom. Mom I love you.” Dhani whimpered to the empty space where the tare had been.

“Please,” she turned and begged the dust cloud that was almost on top of her, “I have to tell her that. She needs to know that I love her.”

Her voice was lost as she too was sucked into the swirling mass.

"What Are You Doing Today?"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineer

With Saia (APC)

LOCATION: Nara, Bran and Saia's Quarters

"And what else are you going to do today?" Nara asked it in the way when they were just making sure you remember.

"Let you know if I leave the arboretum," Saia rolled her eyes.

"And don't roll your eyes at people." Nara smiled at her. Sam had somehow convinced Saia to crawl around the Jeffries Tubes with her yesterday after school. When Nara went to get Saia at the USUAL place and didn't find her, she did anything short of freaking out. Until she remembered she could get the computer to locate them. Of course, Nara had to then crawl into the Jeffries Tubes to get to them. The girls were in the bowels of the ship. Sam had said something about people kept coming in and out of the arboretum and interrupting them.

"And what are YOU doing today?" Saia mocked and giggled.

"Well if you MUST know," Nara answered, "I'm going to run diagnostics on some shuttles."

Saia scrunched her nose, "That sounds boring."

Nara shrugged picking up the dishes, "For an artist, maybe. Not for me, though. It's fun tinkering with those things. At least it gets me out of Main Engineering for awhile."

After Nara had dropped Saia off at school, she stopped by Engineering to check the task list and then took a kit down to one of the shuttlebays. Working on small vessels was her second favorite part of engineering. Her favorite was working in the jeffries tubes. Being in the bowels of the ship. Which was Saia's only saving grace. It gave Nara a chance to crawl around inside the ship.

"Making Nice"

Ensign Miramon Terrik, Flight Control Officer
Lt. (jg) Saul Bental, Intelligence Officer
Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineering Officer

LOCATION: 10-4ward

Nara had been sitting at her table. She had walked into 10-4ward and saw Miramon and Saul, but they were too engrossed in some political talk to even notice her passing by. She was ok with that. She had glanced over at the group and smiling and shaking her head, feeling comments of her own, butwas really not interested in joining. Being a warrior and having a father so involved in politics, one would think she would be very interested. She knew what she preferred, but didn't feel the need to voice it or convince others of her view. She really didn't care if anyone even understood her views. It seemed a waste of time and emotional energy.

Then again, maybe the reason she avoided political discussions is because she was so opinionated, she knew she'd get too fired up and end up punching someone in the mouth. Or to avoid hitting them, hit Saul. She wanted to do that anyway. She had finally been able to concentrate on the PADD as the voices became background noise. It was so much background, that when it had stopped, she looked up again. The two friends were left alone. Nara considered going to see Miramon, but didn't think she wanted to deal with Saul. She looked back down at the PADD.

She had been trying to find a good horseback riding holo-program like one she used on Deep Space 9. She vaguely remembered that someone had programmed it. Unfortunately, she didn't think to download it when she graduated. She forgot the person's name and wondered if it was still in the system at Deep Space 9. The default programs were boring and dull and she didn't know if anyone else had a program for it and frankly wanted to try her hand at holo-programming.

Now she was trying to add some things to a current program. She hadn't ridden in months. Maybe since before she left to fight on Sakaria. She missed it. She also couldn't remember the last time she had gone swimming. She heard about a pool where there were aquatic creatures, and she wished to visit them, but wasn't sure who to ask about it. She was glad she was able to think about her old past times again. Able to forget the things troubling her. She had become engrossed in her programming, almost forgetting about Saul and Miramon.

In the meantime, the other two were just bidding the rest of their group a farewell as they split off to go eat or return to their posts, or in some cases maybe clock out for the night. Not that the Bajoran could blame any of them for doing so - it seemed like they all had an awful lot of sleep to catch up on, since everyone had put in so much overtime on Trill that a few months of shore leave probably wouldn't make up for it. But then, if he'd wanted sleep, he'd have gone to see a counsellor and let them talk at him for twenty minutes. That'd put you to sleep, guaranteed, or your money back.

As it was, though, Miramon hadn't had chance to talk to Saul since he'd collapsed in the Intel offices before the Trill incident had occured. Now that the others were leaving after their in-depth political discussion, he had chance to catch up with the Intel Officer, and about time too, to his mind.

"So, Saul, how are things? You realise I should be mad as hell with you, right? First you collapse on me because of not taking medication, and then you get up and about and go galavanting on Trill with not one single word. And let's not get into the whole Nara/Branwen thing, okay? Either way, I get the feeling I'm becoming more of a pre-marriage counsellor for you rather than a pilot and a friend. Are you gonna do something about this or what?"

"I can assure you one thing - I'm not going to get married soon, so no need for pre-marriage counselling.", Saul chuckled. "Yea, I owe you a story alright."

"So what happened once you got on the planet, Saul?"

He waited briefly for a response, taking a moment to look around at the other people in the room, now that the main group had dispersed, and spotted a highly familiar and, until recently, considered dead, individual that he had mentioned not two light years ago. He almost smiled, but instead looked back to Saul and raised his eyebrows in the direction of the person he'd spotted.

"And speak of the dead, there's one of them right now. Just when you thought it was safe to walk out of your quarters and share a meal and a drink with a friend, you get tracked down again. And so much for a peaceful evening..."

The Bajoran rolled his eyes theatrically, then watched to see which of them would make the first move. He wasn't even sure that Nara had noticed the two of them sitting in the room, so it was possible that they might have been able to get away with Miramon intervening between the two of them. That said, though, he'd rarely ever managed to have a conversation with both of them at the same time - usually he was discussing one with the other in a more private setting, so this would be an interesting encounter all the same.

"Oh.", Saul said simply. His expression was unreadable, "Well, I guess she would've come here to talk with you, Miramon, if she wasn't mad at me. Remember the job-related problems I told you before? Well, it exploded in our faces I'm afraid. You want to invite her to join? Maybe I'm wrong."

Nara looked over and it didn't take much to tell they were talking about her. She figured she couldn't be rude to Miramon. Saul either, even if she wanted to rip his little head off. She stood with her drink and walked over trying to be neutral.

"Looks like she's coming our way anyhow." Miramon smiled as Nara approached, though he flashed Saul the briefest look of warning to make sure that whatever issues the two of them had before now were to be left right there. As much as he liked both of them, he didn't particularly fancy spending his off-duty time having to intervene in another argument. As soon as he did so, he turned to Nara, watching her carefully as she walked over to them.

Saul flashed a smile at her, and lazily raised his hand in a greeting. "Nara, if you're not in a hurry, would you like to join us?"

"Hello Nara. Do come and join us." Miramon added.

When she reached the table, she sat down casually, talking to both of them. She would try to keep from this turning into a fight. "I would had come earlier, but looks like you had enough conversationalists." Basically, she was still ticked at Saul and wanted to discuss it with him, but for now, she just wanted to act like it was just a friendly day in 10-4ward.

"Yea, only after they all left did I realize that we just had a political conversation with half the senior staff of the ship," Saul chuckled. "So much for command distance."

Nara nodded. She wished O'Shea would keep command distance.

"How is everything going? Having fun running around after that kid of yours?" Miramon asked.

"She's actually been behaving. No effects from spending time with Samantha Widdlestein yet. I've just got to find new quarters." Nara frowned at the thought. "Still have to talk that over with Bran. I think she still wants to room together, so we have to see if we can find quarters with three rooms now."

"I'm sure Lieutenant Tarin will help if she can.", Saul said.

He didn't get the chance to speak with Naranda about Saia or anything else during his month on Trill. In fact, that was one of the main purposes of the time he spent on Trill after 'Commodore' Thomas was apprehended. He decided that one particular question was stalled for too long.

"Speaking of which, Nara, what are you going to do with Saia? Are you going to adopt her?"

"I'm going to talk to Dallas about becoming her guardian, so she can stay here. There's not really anything for her to go back to, and well..." Nara smiled, "We've gotten attached to each other. Even before we got here."

"Funny you should mention that, you two," Miramon observed with a ghost of a smile, "because I have an idea that can solve two problems at once. Now, Nara, you're already sharing a room, and you're only alternative to a shared room is having your own quarters separate from Branwen. But I'm living in quarters that are supposed to serve as shared accomodation, but no roomate. If you want to keep Saia around, and you can persuade the quartermaster to let her take up the room, she's more than welcome to take the other half of my quarters. At least you won't have to look far for a babysitter."

Nara thought a moment. She looked down. As much as she found Miramon a friend and trusted him, the thought of Saia staying with a man--any man--didn't sit right with her. She was sure she knew why. Darn Dallas for being right. This was affecting her and he she was with Saia. She looked up smiling, "Thank you. I'll talk to her about it and we'll see."

"Always practical, eh Miramon?", said Saul. "Well I must say I admire you Nara, I wouldn't know what to do in such a situation, and would probably beg the authorities on Trill to try and locate a foster family."

She thought to herself, ~Of course not, you...~ Nara stopped the thought and raised an eyebrow and simply smirked to keep from saying something too cutting. Instead she said, "Men don't have that motherly hormone thingie." Nara shook her head. That was why she wasn't a doctor or a counselor. She added, "I would had said the same thing before though. It kinda just came from nowhere."

Saul grinned. "It's simply... odd... to speak about children all the time. Reminds me about the time I was in boot camp on Utrecht III and two of the other privates got married - they were religious Jews, and religious Jews get married very early - and all of the sudden half the tent were discussing marriage, whereas I didn't even have a decent girlfriend up until then."

Nara grinned growing curious and mischevious, "So you had indecent girlfriends?" She winked at Miramon to let him know she was being playful, not malicious.

Saul laughed at that. "I refuse to answer that question, princess!"

Nara laughed too, feeling the same trickle of joy of hearing the nickname.

"Of Romance and Raw Targ"

(takes place pretty immediately after 'Hello Again')

Vrih Himne
8-ball Hunter

Ten minutes after dropping the kids off, Himne and 8-ball arrived at the holodeck. Himne punched in the program, and they walked in.

The grid of the holodeck immediately vanished, replaced by a huge house. It had clearly been constructed several centuries ago, although it had evidently been modernised - a hi-tech swimming pool and spa system was located in the impressive driveway.

Their clothing had been changed also - Himne and 8-Ball were now wearing formal Rihannusu party dress. As they approached the imposing double-doors of the mansion, they slid open with a quiet hiss and an elderly butler came out.

"Greetings, my lord," he bowed to Himne. "I trust the function went well."

"Yes..." Himne struggled to remember the name of his new butler, before it came to him. "Khor, we had a splendid time."

"Excellent." Khor turned to 8-Ball. "May I take your coat, Lady Himne?"

At this, Himne turned a flush green colour.

"It seems the programmer assumed that any female companion I took to the holodeck would be my wife. I'll... have to change that soon," he blustered out, wondering what her reaction would be.

8-ball grinned. Vrih could be so cute. "Don't worry so much at it, sweetie," 8-ball said. "8-ball Himne definitely has a ring to it, don't you think?" She let Khor have her coat and sighed with relief when it was off. Formal wear was heavy. Coats weren't needed.

8-ball looked around the place. It was huge. "You got some nice digs here," 8-ball said."I especially impressed with the spa. Spas are a girl's best friend, you know." She smiled at him. "So, what do you want to do now?"

Himne smiled, relieved. "Well, since you mentioned the spa - we could shed this formal stuff and jump in if you want." He had already handed his ornate overcoat over to the butler, and was walking towards the pool.

"Activate system," he commanded. Bright lights illuminated the pool at the same time that the jets activated.

"Like any particular music?" he asked her as they approached the shimmering water. "The integrated sound system has the entire Terran music library, so feel free to name something from Earth."

"I have a particular fondness for Terran classical music," he said, not aware that it was considered a middle-to-upper class, not-so-trendy type of music back on Earth. "But I'll let you choose. Anything you want."

8-ball grinned again. She couldn't help it. She wondered what Himne would think of rock n' roll and half-considered asking him to put on a heavy metal band just to see his reaction. She decided against it. She could be nice, sometimes.

"Classical's okay," she said with a shrug. "I don't know much of it. Personally, I'm a Rolling Stones fan myself, but either way is fine." She walked over to him near the water and smiled. "I really can't seem to get all this finery off," she said to him. "I don't suppose you'd care to help me out?"

At that moment, Himne forgot completely about the music as he helped her gracefully out of her garments, before removing his clothes as quickly as he could.

Suddenly Khor re-appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Surprised, a barely dressed Himne stumbled back, falling into the water and accidentally bringing 8-Ball in with him.

8-ball shot her head out of the water and started laughing. She had never actually managed to fall into a pool before. It was new. It was also kind of fun.

Khor - whose half-century of experience helped him in keeping a stiff face - managed somehow to ignore the fact that two naked bodies had just splashed into the water, spraying him with warm water.

"Dinner will be ready in an hour, my lord, my lady," he said as calmly as a Vulcan, before heading back indoors.

Himne barely noticed - he was too busy enjoying bathing in the hot water, and the company of course. If his new house was really as good as this (and he had no doubts that it was) he couldn't wait to get back to Romulus. Of course, he had the problem of his source of income being here, on the Galaxy, and he needed a high-paying job to pay for this place. But, still, he would find the time...

"So, 8-Ball," he said, relaxing in the heat as he moved closer to his female companion. "I just realised, reflecting on my own past, that you haven't told me much about yours. You're seeing where I come from. I don't know much about your history - how did you join Starfleet, what were your favourite childhood experiences, that sort of thing."

8-ball shrugged in the water and let herself stretch out. The water was just the right temperature: hot enough that it made her relax all of her muscles, but not so hot that it was peeling back her flesh. "My past isn't that amazing or anything," she said. "I was born on Earth. Canada, actually, but I lived in a couple of different places on Earth until I was about twelve. Then I had to move to Vulcan for a couple of years but you can imagine how that was entirely not fun, so when I was 14 I left and lived in New York City for awhile. I liked New York. It felt like old earth, not all civilized and glass walls and sliding doors but still the same city that ever was with bars and fights and loud music."

"But my home was destroyed a few years later and I didn't really have anywhere to go, so I signed up at Starfleet because it's a job and a bed and a meal, and that beats being homeless and starving and cold." 8-ball thought about that. "I didn't think I'd last very long here, in Starfleet. I don't care much about galatic peace, and I was pretty bored when I first got on the ship. And then I didn't realize quite how many battles and weird shit I was signing myself up for when I got on this boat. . like that memory swap thing, that was fucking weird, and I didn't like it at all. . .but I'm sort of making my peace with being here. I'm not planning a lifelong career or anything; I highly doubt that someday you'll find an Admiral 8-ball Hunter roaming around, but it's my life for the moment, and that's okay."

8-ball grinned. "And as far as favorite childhood experiences, I played soccer and four-square a lot. Those were cool games." She rolled her shoulders back and closed her eyes, enjoying the warm water around here. "What about you? What was your childhood like?"

Himne smiled and gestured around him. "Well, it was nothing like this."

"I grew up in the slums around Rihannusu. I was an only child, but even for a family of three people, a shanty house is pretty tiny. I hated it there, and after lots of hard work managed to scrape a scholarship into the Rihannusu Astrophysics Academy, where I studied mathematics. Then, having graduated near top of my class, the local governor asked me to be his finance minister."

"It didn't pay that much, but it was loads considering where I came from. It was enough to move out, anyway," Himne sighed. "And soon, bigger and more powerful aristocrats wanted my services - until I became the aide to a friend of General Omar's. He recruited me to become the aide of Senator Omar, and that's up to the present day. By that time, my pay had increased about tenfold - so I have to say I'm pretty pleased with myself so far."

"As for my favourite childhood memory," he sighed again, thinking hard. "Well, it wasn't that enjoyable a childhood. I suppose it was graduating from the Astrophysics Academy. That probably sounds sad, but it was the key to all this." Himne gestured, again, to the mansion.

"And the thing is..." he hesitated. Himne the newly-wealthy, pompous pseudo-aristocrat was being replaced with Himne the shy Rihannusu.

"The thing is," he continued. "I didn't have much time for anything else but study at the academy, and when I went to work I barely had time to do anything else. So, truth be told, I know I might act like I'm very experienced in this male-female mating stuff, I'm not really." He looked at her, hoping she would laugh off his unexpected revelation rather than back away.

8-ball wasn't sure what she was supposed to say to that. It was obvious that Himne needed some form of encouragement but she wasn't exactly sure what kind to give. Did it matter to her that Himne hadn't had a lot of experience? No, not really. It certainly didn't matter to her that he had been born poor. But Himne suddenly seemed so insecure and 8-ball wasn't exactly a pro at assuring confidence in males.

~Usually~ 8-ball thought wryly ~I'm attracted to the men with way too much confidence in themselves~.

"Well, that's okay," 8-ball said with a shrug. "I mean, I've had a bit of experience with a few different guys, but I haven't really had that many actual relationships or anything, either. What we've got going. . .this sort of random, bump into each other, talk, laugh, have sex, and then wait another few months until it happens again. . .that's pretty much what I'm used to. So you don't need to worry about not being that familiar with all that girl/guy fun stuff. We'll just go with it from where we are and see what happens."

"Great," Himne grinned again, returning back to his old, confident self.

"Actually," he said with a sly grin. "I did have one enjoyable childhood memory. It was on a beach. Me and my friend had aoni'rhnniohsyrrhihdh."

8-ball blinked at him.

Seeing her blank expression, he grinned further. "Or, as you humans might call it... a water fight!" He then playfully splashed her with the warm water.

"Ack!" 8-ball shrieked as she got water up her nose. "Oh, you're SO going down." She then proceeded to not just splash but hurl water at him and the water war went on for a few more minutes until a temporary truce was finally called. 8-ball moved over to him and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. . .and then proceeded to dunk him under the water.

"Heh," she said when Himne surfaced again. "I win."

"Never!" Himne said with mock ferocity, lunging for when suddenly - again out of nowhere - the butler arrived.

"Excuse me, my lord," Khor said, giving Himne a surprise at his sudden appearance.

The broker had claimed to Himne that this program accurately reflected the personalities of each and every one of the household staff. Himne hoped the butler wasn't really this intrusive in real-life.

"Yes?" Himne asked, with a hint of annoyance.

"I know dinner was in an hour, but you seemed rather..." he hesitated. "Preoccupied with the Lady Himne, so I decided to bring your meal out to you." He placed two trays of steaming hot targ by the side of the spa.

He bowed quickly and left. "Goodnight, my lord, my lady."

Himne left out a sigh of frustration before turning to 8-Ball. "Apologies, I'll delete him from the program next time. But I'll have to put up with him in real-life, if this program's an accurate representation."

8-ball shrugged. She didn't care. He'd brought the food to her. That was pretty cool.

"Anyway," he handed over one of the trays to 8-Ball. "Might as well eat up." The food was replicated stuff of course (since they weren't on Romulus) but it was real enough (from the replicator, not just holographic) and it would give 8-Ball an idea of what Rihannusu meals were like.

8-ball put a bite of some discolored lump of something into her mouth and nearly choked. It tasted slimy. "It's. . .interesting," she said, secretly wondering how Himne could like that stuff. If by some very freaky chance 8-ball did become the Lady Himne of the house, she was definitely going to have to smuggle in some normal food, like cheeseburgers or pizza. "What exactly are we eating, anyway?"

"Raw targ," Himne replied between mouthfuls. "It's a Rihannusu delicacy. This replicated stuff tastes nearly the same, except the real thing gives a much stronger taste. It might taste a bit sour for you, since Rihannusu taste buds are a lot less sensitive than human ones, but personally I'd have to say this is one of my favourites."

It took 8-ball every bit of training and self-discipline that she had to continue eating the food after finding out that it was freaking RAW TARG. Since she didn't have much training or self-discipline, she couldn't quite make herself assure Himne that no, the taste was bitter at all, or even repulsive. She swallowed hard and attempted to smile at him.

"What about you, 8-Ball?" he asked, after he had cleared his mouth of food. "What's your favourite food?"

"Oh, I kind of like it simple," 8-ball said. "Greasy stuff. Anything bad for you. I'm a firm believer in hearing everything a health expert has to say and then doing the reverse. For nicer, more sit down meals, I guess I'm pretty fond of pastas and such. Chicken alfredo rocks. Still, you can't go wrong with a nice, simple piece of cheese pizza." She smiled, figuring Himne would hate anything like that, food of the unrefined.

8-ball forced another piece of the targ (she couldn't quite call it food in her mind anymore) into her mouth, chewed, chewed, chewed some more, swallowed, and decided to set aside her plate. "I had a big breakfast," 8-ball lied and then smiled at Himne again, more geniunely this time since the atrocity he called food was out of her mouth. She opened her mouth to say something, and then realized a horrible thing: she had no idea what to talk about. In her relationships, conversation didn't tend to be one of the bigger aspects.

"So. . ." 8-ball said and stopped.

Himne, however, quickly realised the tension and changed the subject away from food.

"So..." he chuckled. "How is it that you, probably the most un-broody woman on the entire ship, ended up looking after all those terrible youngsters back there?"

"Ugh," 8-ball said. "Don't even get me started." And then, whether Himne liked it or not, 8-bal got started. "I got into this sort of food fight thing with this evil little troll named Samantha Widdlesomething and the Captain thought it would be a good idea if I learned to deal with children more. Obviously, M'kantu isn't as much of an asshole as Brhode was, but I think he might almost quietly as sadistic. Anyway, now I'm stuck with them, for I think exactly 31 more hours or so and I hate every freaking minute of it. Those children aren't really children. They're like little demons dressed up like a children, like a strange, twisted reversal of Halloween, but instead of trick or treating for candy, they're trick or treating for MY SOUL. I can't wait till I'm done with them."

"Anyway, that's what I've been pretty busy with. Up to my ears in demented, evil children. What have you been doing lately that's been in the way of our fun and nakedness?"

"Well," Himne grinned. "I can't say I've had an amazing time, but it certainly hasn't been bad these past few weeks."

"The senator's beautiful former aide, Captain Tekri, returned to the ship for reasons I can't fathom, so I've had more paperwork because of it. And, of course, I'm still adjusting to life onboard a Starfleet ship. Replicated food, Andorians, being around some rather irritating humans, the fact that its half a quadrant away from Romulus... none of it's a good combination for a Rihannusu to experience."

"I talked to the senator about feeling homesick recently," Himne continued. "And he said he felt the same when he first came here. At the start, all the human foods churned his stomach and his palate, and he found their colloquial expressions so confusing."

8-ball raised an eyebrow. This boy sure knew how to charm a human girl.

"But now... he's become so humanised. He eats loads of what you humans call "grease food" and uses strange Terran words like 'faux pas' and 'mile.' He even made the mistake of calling us Rihannusu 'Romulans,' which is the Terran term for us."

Himne frowned in concern. "I only hope that I won't end up a soft, humanised version of myself after a few months on this ship, like Senator Omar has."

8-ball didn't quite know what to say to that. Her initial reaction was pissed off. Her second reaction was ~Well, how would you feel if you had to live on a ship surrounded by Romulans? Would you want to become more like a Romulan?~

The latter thought was probably the more logical reaction. Therefore, enough said.

"Well, gee," 8-ball said. "If you don't want to end up like a WEAK, SOFT, STRANGE human, I think you might be going about this the wrong way. I mean, it seems to me that if I didn't want to end up like a COMPLETELY ARROGANT ASS like everyone else around me, I probably wouldn't hang around them very often. You know minimize my contact and the like. Talk when I had to, certainly not go out of the way to make conversation or, you know, share JACUZZI'S with them."

For the second time tonight, Himne's face went a flushed green colour, matching the colour of his blood.

"Heh," he chuckled, very aware of his error. "Present company excluded, of course."

Then he proceeded to make his third mistake in the evening (or 'faux pas,' as the esteemed senator was so fond of calling them) by referring to 8-Ball's heritage.

"Apologies," he said, glancing at her very slightly pointed ears. "But why take offence? I was referring to humans, and, after all, you're pretty much Vulcan, aren't you?"

8-ball stared at him.

They say third time's a charm. They were right. In a way.

8-ball stood up and stepped out of the jacuzzi, glaring at him. It might have given her more satisfaction to glare at him while she was fully clothed and with hair not looking like a strung out mermaid's, but her hair was not important and she'd never be able to get back into that stupid dress. Even if she could, she wouldn't have wanted to. She didn't want to be in anything that Himne found appealing.

Pretty much Vulcan. . .

"FIRST off," 8-ball snapped at him, ignoring his alarming shade of green, "I am NOT pretty much Vulcan. I am half Vulcan, half Human, and we don't like to talk about the Vulcan side because I was RAISED by humans, BROUGHT UP by humans, and if you can't tell that I'm pretty partial to my human side, then you're even stupider than you look because PRETTY MUCH VULCAN people don't tend to get pissed off, kind of like I am right now. I spent a whole two years on Vulcan after my WEAK, SOFTIE, HUMAN father died, and I hated every fucking minute of it because I am proud to have been raised to be myself, not to repress everything I feel, not to look picture fucking perfect all the time, but to be me. And if you haven't figured out that I'm not PRETTY MUCH VULCAN in the couple of times that we've hung out, talked, drank, and had sex, then you're definitely pretty much an IDIOT because most people can figure out that I'm not pretty much Vulcan in the first five minutes of meeting me, without the benefit of conversations, drinking games, and seeing how DAMN good I am in bed. And if that wasn't enough of a clue, I don't know what is. Do you think most pretty much Vulcans have one night stands with little wannabe ROMULAN attaches who have so much arrogance that they can't bend over lest the giant STICK UP THEIR ASS pokes a hole through their stomach and they bleed to death slowly in their lousy little holographic mansions? I am HUMAN, Vrih Himne, so don't you forget that when you're talking about that good for nothing, spineless, idiotic species, you're talking about ME, and women don't tend to take kindly to MORONS who insult their whole damn species!"

8-ball finally took a deep breath, wanted to rant more, and couldn't think of anything else to say that wouldn't make her repeat herself. "And furthermore. . ." 8-ball said, ". . . . .your food SUCKS!"

And on that note, 8-ball stomped away, ignoring Khor stare after her retreating, naked form.

Himne just stared. He couldn't help it - that was so unexpected.

He looked at his reflection in the warm water. His ears and other noticeable Rihannusu features were pretty similar to 8-Ball's more noticeable Vulcanoid features (Rihannusu and Vulcans once living on the same planet and all) yet obviously, on the inside, they had some... incompatibilities.

He looked up again at the naked figure walking towards the holodeck doors. Part of him (the cowardly side) was too afraid to get out of the spa and follow her, yet another part of him (the aristocratic gentleman side) had a notion of chivalry that wouldn't allow a naked woman - even one as scary as 8-Ball had just been - to suffer the humiliation of walking in public with no clothes just because of him

In the end, it was the gallant part of him that won out, and he reluctantly climbed out. It was surprising - given the insults she'd hurled at him - normally he would have been seething with rage by now, yet he was still going back for more.

"8-Ball," he called out uncertainly, realising he had little idea of how to handle this situation. Perhaps it would have been better to stay in the spa.

Regardless, he pressed on. "I didn't mean to be insulting... You'll freeze outside, don't make me feel guiltier..." he trailed off rather pathetically.

8-ball spun around to look at him. "Either feel guilty and apologize, or be pissed and don't apologize, but don't stand there and whine at me that I'm making you feel crummy because that's sort of the point. Either way, you're right. It is cold outside."

8-ball marched back to the spa, picked up HIMNE's clothes (since guy's formal wear is a lot easier to get into), pulled on his pants and shirt, and then stomped back past Himne. "Enjoy the dress," 8-ball said, and left the holodeck.

"Wait!" Himne's cry was cut off as the holodeck doors sealed shut with their familiar mechanical sound.

"Hnaev," he swore in Rihannusu, kicking the nearest stone. Normally he would just replicate some more clothes, but the holodeck slot he had reserved was up - he was out of time.

All he could do was grab the nearest piece of clothing - which happened to be a white bathrobe by the side of the spa. At least it was male clothing.

"Computer, end simulation," Himne managed to call out just as a young couple walked in. They had obviously booked the holodeck for a romantic evening.

Himne stormed towards the holodeck doors, ignoring the couple's curious glances. On the way, he turned towards them.

He stabbed an accusing finger at the man. "If you don't want to share my fate, take her to the ship's aquarium. Trust me on this."

With that, he walked out - leaving behind a thoroughly bewildered couple.

"Lesson Number One."

2Lt. Jebidiah Baile
Recon Specialist, Commanding Officer Red Team, Furies.

Pvt. Franklin D. Donut
Trooper/ARC (Advanced Recon Commando)
USS Galaxy

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

Donut hadn't known Baile for very long and truth be told he didn't know anything about his el-tee except he didn't like Baile at all. The man was never satisfied, constantly yelling at people no matter what they did or how well they did it.

Who the hell was this newcomer that thought he was better than everyone else? The Furies knew how to fight and Donut knew, from listening to what was said about them, that the Furies could pull their weight any day of the week.

Then came mister I'm-so-bad-I-have-to-squint-with-my-eyes. A lousy second Lieutenant. At his age? Seems like the Galaxy had to settle for seconds these days.

On top of that the new CO, the Andorian with the impossible name and an incredible ass, had rearranged the teams completely. But it could have been worse. He could have gotten Branwen as squadleader, but the question was if that had not been for the better. At least she didn't see herself as the meanest and baddest marine on the block.

Despite his big mouth and extrovert persona Donut considered himself a good Marine. He liked being a Marine, the feeling of having done something few people would be able to do. The Marine Academy had been hell, the drillinstructor had acted like something out of an old holomovie, screaming and pushing them. But the drillsergeant had earned their respect. He had been a real badass, a veteran. But Baile?

They had welcomed him, of course, everyone gathering in the barracks to greet him and welcome him to the Furies. And what had happened? He had taken one look at them and told them that if they had that much free time on their hands they might as well spend it on the track. Then he had walked right by them.

It had pretty much been the same ever since. If he found anyone lingering he sent them running or worse - cleaning the barracks from top to bottom. The barracks had never been as clean as it was now.

Naturally they had sent out the occasional question about the new el-tee, but no one seemed to know much about him. Rumors had it that he had been shipped from place to place the last year or so, which came as no surprise to Donut when he learned about it. The guy was socially inapt, and from what Donut could tell not much more than a sourfaced prick.

Now that same prick walked in through the door to the gym, trying to look all badass. A part of Donut, a very large part, had to admit that the el-tee did look like a badass.

"Get over to the ring Dorothy.. " his el-tee said in a flat voice, walked over to a pair of gloves.

Donut did as told, silently wondering what the Andorian would say if he beat up the el-tee. With the attitude the el-tee had, she'd probably give Donut a promotion.

So the el-tee would beat on him for a few rounds and give him some sort of speech. Whooptidoo. But Donut had taken the same hand-to-hand combatcourses as the el-tee had and he was, if asked, a decent boxer.

Baile removed the tanktop he had been wearing, thus putting all of the tattoos on display. Donut had seen some of them, like the crow and the trident on his left arm and the wide tribal on the right, but the others, well they were a surprise. The man had more tattoos than a drunk Orion pirate after shoreleave. The whole visage reminded Donut of hooligans from the late 20th centurary he had seen in pictures and documentaries.

The Private bit down on the mouthguard. Hell, if a little sparring was all it took to get the el-tee off his back, then Donut could survive that. Besides there were no witnesses in case he accidently knocked the prick out. He walked towards Baile, holding out his hands to touch gloves, readying himself for the coming fight.

Next thing Donut saw was the roof. The el-tee didn't bother to touch gloves. Instead he just pushed one of Donut's hands to the side and landed a straight right in Donut's face.

Shaking his head to get rid of the dizzyness Donut sat up. Man that el-tee hit hard.

"On your feet, Sally.. " Baile ordered him, backing away to give Donut some space.

Donut pulled his guard tight, readying himself. He had always had quick feet when boxing and that would be his weapon. The first jab he did was caught Baile square on the chin, whipping the head backwards, but the el-tee only grinned.

"C'mon Minnie.. you can do better than that.."

Donut jabbed, hitting chin again. But the el-tee continued to grin.

"You hit like a ten year old.. " the el-tee grinned. "C'mon.. hit me.. you know you want to.."

Again Donut jabbed, but Baile slid past it. "Well sir." He jabbed again, trying to set up his opponent for a left-right combo. "Wouldn't want to hurt you.." Wham. He hit Baile with a good right hook. "Sir."

Baile touched his chin with the tip of the glove. "Not bad Gladys... and don't hold back Abitha.. " he grinned and went back to his defensive stance.

A wicked left hook followed by a quick right-left-right combination pushed the el-tee on the defensive. "Don't worry, Sir. I won't" He paused to let Baile get his balance back.

Baile's eyes darkened slightly. "Why the fuck did you stop?" he snarled at Donut who looked surprised.

"The rules states.." he began but was interrupted.

"Rules?" Baile asked with contempt in his voice and jabbed at Donut. "So if the enemy starts to fall you stand back and let him get up?"

"That's different. That's war." Donut replied, but was only rewarded by Baile jabbing at his gloves with enough force to push them back, his own gloves hitting his own face.

"It's always war.." Baile replied and went in close on Donut, sliding one arm over Donut's neck and threw him on the floor.

He looked at the el-tee. The man's face was calm, but the eyes had a certain and quite unnerving glow to them. "Regulations are needed. Otherwise we'll en.." Again he was interrupted.

"End up like the ones we're fighting.." Baile finished for him. "Blah blah blah." The second Donut was up Baile was on him, jabbing and bodypunching him.

Just as Donut was about to reply, Baile slid underneath his jab and backhanded him hard across the face. Again he hit the floor. His entire face stung. So maybe he had underestimated the el-tee a bit. The guy hit like a bloody mule. But if a streetfight was what the el-tee wanted then that's what he'd get. Donut got up as fast as he could, charging Baile and wrapped his arms around him, pushing the el-tee into the wall nearest them.

The el-tee pulled the guard tight, locking down the elbows to protect the sides and using the hands to protect the face. "That's.. more.. like.. it.." Baile breathed between the punches.

Donut continued to pound the el-tee with all that he had, bodypunches, jagbs, uppercuts, even the occasional elbow. The el-tee had set the rules for the fight and Donut was only following them.

The problem was that Baile didn't have any rules.

Baile pushed him away with a kick to the stomach to get some distance. "You think you got me all figured out, don't you, Private?" Bailed asked him in a not so friendly voice. "You are just so smart, ain't you? All brains, better than the rest.." Suddenly Baile spun around, sending his leg up towards Donut's chest.

The spinkick was sudden, but Donut managed to block most of it, but his arm went numb. Still he kept the arm up, not wanting to show Baile what effect the kick had left.

Baile launched a series of attacks that had one purpose - to set up Donut for a knee to the head. And it worked. Donut stumbled backwards, dizzy and somewhat shocked. "The Furies a fucking disgrace for the Marines.." Baile said to him and spat on the floor next to him.

That was more than Donut could take. The el-tee could taunt his personal flaws until the sun turned blue, but not the Marines, his family. The charge earned Donut the worst beating he had ever recieved. An elbow broke his nose, a series of knees broke a rib. His kidneys ached like something out of this world after Baile had punched them a dozen times. His legs wouldn't even carry him after being mauled by hard sweepkicks. The left shoulder had almost been dislocated when Baile had locked him up down on the floor.

Baile sat down next to Donut and spat out the mouthguard. "You're probably wondering what the hell just happened." Baile said and swallowed some water from a bottle he had replicated while Donut was coming to again. "I could have finished you when ever I wanted, you know." Baile told him without bragging. Both knew it was the plain and simple truth.

Saliva dripped from the corner of Donut's mouth as he lay flat against the floor. "Uh-hu.." was all he managed to say. Semper Fi. The el-tee had a tattoo on the lower back saying that.. no, it wasn't just a tattoo. It looked like a scarring that had been tattooed afterwards. Must have hurt like a bitch. Funny, Donut thought to himself. Nice to see someone managed to cause the bastard pain.

Grabbing a handful of hair Baile raised Donut's head from the floor. "You with me, Gladys?"

"Yeash schir.." Donut slurred, feeling it would be a very bad thing to pass out.

"Good. If you pass out I'll kill you."

At least the pain would stop, Donut thought to himself after a few seconds. "Yesch schir.. underschtood schir" he slurred in reply.

"Smart move." Baile nodded and let go of the hair and Donut's head went back to being a part of the floor.

"I don't like you, Donut. At all. In fact, if we were to head out in the field at this very moment, I'd make sure you wouldn't come back."

Donut believed him. The man was a psychopath. No, a double psychopath. The kind that Klingons wish they could be. A sided psychopathic double Klingon. "Yeasch schir."

"You know why I don't like you? You got a big mouth and a big head." the veteran Marine continued after drinking some more water. "You know what I don't like? Whiners, quiters and losers and you, Diana, you fit all three. and that..."

"sch bad sching, no?" the beat up Private offered.

"Very. But there's one more thing that I like even less. You know what that is?"

Since the el-tee had fallen silent again, Donut filled in, mostly out of old habit."Early morningsch?"

Donut grunted loudly when Baile gave him a quick elbow to his already battered kidneys. "Demotions.. and guess what.. you hit the jackpot on all four."

"Isch there a prizsche?"

Grabbing the hair again Baile pulled the head backwards. "Hey.. drop the wisecracks or it's round two. That's right, Shirley.. we only went one round."

The blood from Donut's broken nose made the beating look even worse. He could feel the taste of it when he tried to swallow. "Yeasch schir."

"You're almost in my crosshairs, Dolly. Don't line yourself up or this will look like a fucking bikeride when I'm done with you." Baile let go of the hair and Donut's head dropped to the floor once more, followed by a moan. "Careful, Maggie.. you might hurt yourself."

Struggling hard Donut managed to raise his thumb. "Gotcha schir.."

"Now, listen up Stella. Here comes the important part. You are no longer a Private. God knows I wanted to kick you out so hard you'd be orbiting Saturn by now, but our blue CO obviously sees some schred of potential which I, despite my best efforts utterly fails to sense or notice. Therefore, and stay with me, Mona Menopause, you're getting a promotion to Pee Eff See. That's right. One step up the ladder, Sunshine."

Baile patted him on the head and got up on his feet again. "'Course, I can't even begin to express just how much I look forward to dragging you down here and repeat this treatment when you fuck up and get yourself demoted again." He leaned closer. “I’m evil, girl, and patient. I’ll be lurking just under the surface, waiting for you to go in the deep end.”

The words just seemed to flow out of the el-tee faster than Donut's brain could process it. When it had, the words 'promotion', 'cause you horrible pain if you fail' echoed fairly strong in his mind.

"Yeasch schir.. leschon taken.."

Standing in front of Donut, Baile looked down. "When you're done playing landmark here, get yourself to sickbay and get yourself patched up. God will have to send large amounts of excuses and explainations if you're not at the lineup tomorrow morning."

He didn't wait for Donut to reply. The man would drag himself up eventually and head down to sickbay, and if Baile had judged him correctly, then he'd be seeing Donut at the lineup the next morning no matter what state he was in. Now he just wanted to find an icepack, or he’d get some nice bruises in the morning. The boy knew how to punch.

"Here I am."

By
Lieutenant (jg) Airaul Taern Chief Tactical Officer

& Ensign G'Bat'ea Tactical Officer

It had been a long wait on the USS Galaxy in the docking lounge of Starbase 212 - but G'Bat'ea had been grateful for the time to finally finish his reading on Wolf 359. It was a morbid subject but left a lot to learn in terms of tacticals and the Borg. It had been an intriguing project to take up and G'Bat'ea was sure if he ever encountered the Borg in a hostile arena he would be confident of what measures *not* to take. The tactical data on how to counter-attack a Borg vessel was a lot less prevalent. Perhaps a study of the Sector 001 incident would aid in that matter, a thought that G'Bat'ea had noted down on his PADD for future reference.

Now, as he strode down the corridor of the Galaxy, his Starfleet uniform as ever too tight in all the wrong places for his liking, his mind was on other things. He knew the routine of being reassigned, he was required to report into either his department head or the executive officer, report to sickbay for a standard medical and basic psychological examination and of course to program his access codes and replicator preferences. His assigned quarters, as the transporter chief had kindly told him, were on the deck below the transporter rooms - deck 7. It was this deck he was heavy-footedly walking down, keeping an eye out for the designated room number he held on his PADD in front of him. He had decided to drop of his two shoulder-bags and then officially report in for duty. The sooner he was known to his superiors the sooner his duty assignments would be made.

G'Bat'ea almost walked past the door, it was just around the junction of an adjoining corridor. He took a few steps back, double checked the number with

that on the PADD and then approached the door. He used the LCARS panel on the left of the door to input the Galaxy's programmed lock-code and the doors slid upon with not even the hint of a hiss. Looks like the designers of the refitted ship had decided to take measures to get rid of the rather irritating noises. The quarters were similar if slightly more spartan than those aboard the Nebula-class USS Sutherland had been, and sparsely furnished. At least the walls were a lighter colour than the standard Starfleet-grey and there was nice carpetting. G'Bat'ea shuddered, he was beginning to think like one of those Terrans - a Nausicaan ship was lucky to have anything non-metallic aboard it - they did not care for comforts or homeliness.

Dropping his bags by the desk on which a console sat he took a little time to have a look at the bed, en-suite facility and kitchenette. Yes, nothing more or less than expected really. G'Bat'ea found himself shrugging in indifference, and as he reached for his communications badge to contact hsi chief he found himself slapping the bare uniform. As he had yet to report in he had yet to receive a Galaxy communication device. Groaning at his own stupidity he cleared his throat.

"Computer." His Federation standard was thickly accented and guttaral. "Locate Chief Tactical Officer," he consulted his PADD, "Ai-ree-ul...Tay-ren." He hoped it would be close enough to be recognisable. He had got to grips with pronunciation but the dissimilarity between spelling and pronunciation of names had eluded him more often than not.

[Lieutenant Taern is in his office.]

G'Bat'ea nodded, good start. "Which is?"

[Query not understood.]

Well, it appeared the designers had still not erased that almost arrogant voice when the computer mocked you.

"What is the location of Lieutenant Taern's office?"

[Deck 11.]

"Deck 11 it is." G'Bat'ea said to himself walking to exit his new quarters.

[Confirmed, Tactical offices are on deck 11.]

The growl emitted by G'Bat'ea as the doors closed behind him did not intimidate the computer.

Airaul Taern rubbed his temple with a frown of nothing less than irritation, but nothing more than annoyance. When he had joined Starfleet, against his own better judgement, he had never envisioned himself spending a large chunk of time behind a desk.

"I should have stuck with the Priest thing..." he chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he corrected a word on the padd that held one of his officer's reports. He loved Ensign Hallow to bits...he was a great man to have around, always lively and eager both in and out of work. He had a keen head for numbers and calculating odds, even if he looked like the kind of man that would throw a phaser at an enemy rather than shoot at it....but the gods save him, he couldn't write a report. It wasn't that he wasn't capable, it was that he had a peculiar habbit of writing it in the tone of a letter home to his family rather than an official report. He'd approached him once about it, and when Hallow had said that he couldn't stand the thought of sending him something dull and dry to read, he hadn't had the heart to rebuke him.

Instead, he tweaked them himself here and there when he got them before 'filing' them carefully away with the others.

"Well, at least it keeps life interesting..." he murmured to himself with a small smile. He was just about to scroll down further when the chime on his door caught him. He glanced up with an arched eyebrow. "Enter!"

The doors slid apart to reveal a rather large shadow taking up far too much of the doorway to be a member of the tactical department. Then as the figure entered the room further, revealing the Nausicaan's features, he snapped to attention. "Ensign G'Bat'ea, reporting for duty, sir." It was rather formal for the standard officer of the fleet today.

Airaul blinked with mild surprise for a moment before pushing himself up to stand, offering him a smile. "At ease. I'm Lt jg. Airaul Taern. It's a pleasure to have you with us, please, take a seat?"

G'Bat'ea gave the Lieutenant a curteous nod as he let the tension ease from his body and took the seat before the desk, which he assumed was the seat that the Lieutenant had offered. "Thank you, sir."

Airaul nodded with a small smile as he watched him, retaking his seat. "It's good to have someone new with us. I've read your record, but I'd be interested to hear your specialities in your own words."

G'Bat'ea had expected as much, it made sense to hear it from the horses mouth. "Well I have a lot of experience and knowledge in hands-on tactical as well as planning operations. I have served on the bridges of Nausicaan, Klingon and Federation vessels so I am well aware of the day-to-day running of the tactical department from a central point. I'm a bit less experienced in post-analysis but that is something I am working on."

Airaul nodded as he took the words in, considering for a moment. "Your varied experience on vessels of other cultures is a valuable asset...and your more immediate skills at a tactical station are also admirable. However I'm most pleased to hear that you put effort into the planning of operations. I am a firm believer that if you plan for every eventuality, then nothing can surprise you...but I doubt I have to tell an experienced officer like yourself that." He gave a warm smile.

Flattery and ego-boosting went well with Nausicaan psychology and G'Bat'ea's mouth formed a macabre-looking grin. "Thank you, sir, and yet I am aware of the benefits of foresight. I'm glad to meet someone else who appreciates it just as much." This man was proving to be a wise tactician so far.

Airaul gave an appreciative smile, nodding gently to him. "It sounds as if we have similar ideas on priorities. I am sure you will meet the others of the department soon. The assistant chief is Lt. Cmdr Raven Darkstar. He is a highly capable and skilled officer, and very...serious."

G'Bat'ea detected a note in the man's voice inferring that this was perhaps a bad thing. He did not understand. "It is good for an officer to take his duties seriously."

"Of course," Airaul nodded in agreement, his eyes on his desk for a moment in cosideration...what worried him slightly was that it seemed it wasn't just his duties he took seriously, but also everything else. He gave himself a mental shake of the head. It was none of his business, and he didn't even know the man properly. He didn't know anything about him, it wasn't fair to make assumptions. He'd only mentioned it because he didn't want the new officer to take it personally if he seemed distant with him...but this officer looked more than capable of looking after himself. "Yes. You should also check in with Sickbay and Counselling if you haven't done so already. They like to be kept informed and up to date on new arrivals."

"Yes, and I believe they also became quick capable search-and-destroy tacticians themselves when someone fails to show up for an appointment." G'Bat'ea was sure that the other man would have indeed been privy to at least one medical officer hounding him over a missed check-up.

"Absolutely..." Airaul had to laugh at that. He knew the feeling all to well. Perhaps he was just paranoid, but it felt like doctors and counsellors were determined to find something wrong with him to fix him up...and when he came from a culture that had neither doctors nor counsellors, it was more than a little overwhelming. "Perhaps if we unite we will have a stronger defence against them. It is better than hiding," he gave a weak smile, shaking his head. "Is there anything you'd like to ask?"

G'Bat'ea like the man's sense of humour. "Just when I will be starting active duty and receive my assignments?"

"Pending medical's clearence, of course, you can start tomorrow. If you would like more time to settle in though, just say..." Airaul met his eyes with near concern.

G'Bat'ea shook his head decisively. "No, sir - I'm ready to start right away."

"Good, then I'll send your assignment straight to your quarters once I've reworked the rosters," Airaul assured with a firm nod of the head.

G'Bat'ea readied his body to stand. "Thank you, sir. Is there anything else I could help you with?"

"No, you are free to go," Airaul gave him a small smile, nodding as he settled back in his own chair. "If you need anything, just ask."

"Thank you, sir." G'Bat'ea brought himself slowly to his feet and gave the Lieutenant a curt nod before turning to leave.

Airaul watched him for a long moment before letting a light breath out, a chuckle escaping his throat. He looked, to all intents and purposes, to be another fantastic addition to the team.

"Just Testing Ya Out"

8-Ball
With Running Tree, Hunky Native American NPC
Timber, Furry Pet of the HNA NPC

8-ball shifted to her side and slowly opened her eyes to unfamiliar settings. These were definitely not her quarters, and she was definitely more nude than usual. 8-ball blinked a couple of times and then remembered: Cute Boy Running Tree. Meet. Hang out. Sex. Ah-ha.

8-ball turned on her other side to see if Running Tree was lying next to her and jumped up with a short, startled shriek. The wolf, Timber, licked her on the face.

8-ball caught her breath again. "Hi Timber," she said.

Running Tree jumped at the shriek and looked about wide-eyed. When he spotted the beautiful, naked woman wiping her face, he smiled. "Guess he got jealous of me getting all the action." Timber trotted around to the other side of the bed and put his forpaws on the edge to nuzzle his master's arm. Running Tree laughed, "I'll get to you buddy." He kissed 8-Ball and stroked her hair a moment, "Are you hungry?"

8-ball shrugged. "I could eat." She sat up in a bed, saw her clothes on the other side of the room, and walked over there. As she slipped on her uniform, she asked, "Did you have something in mind?"

He smiled, "I was thinking blueberry pancakes." He stood and walked over to her, "Did I tell you how beautiful you are?"

8-ball smiled with a raised eyebrow. Of course, you couldn't help smile at something like that. . .just not that many men really told you that you were beautiful (more likely they said 'Jeez, you're hot, wanna screw'). . .but it still made 8-ball a trifle uneasy. She liked Running Tree, she did, but she wasn't planning any commitments or anything. He wasn't the only guy on the Galaxy that she had slept with.

"You're sweet," she told him. "Blueberry pancakes sound great." She gave him a quick kiss and then went over to sit back on the bed. "So, what are your plans for today?"

"I don't have to report to work for about three hours, so after breakfast, if you have time, maybe you'd want to join me on the holodeck and we can go for a swim or anything you'd like." She normally wasn't the kind of woman he'd think he'd be attracted to. She lacked most feminine sensitivities and was pretty wild. Maybe that was it. Her wildness. Could he tame her? Would he want to?

8-ball shrugged. "Yeah, I could do that." She didn't have to be at work in a few hours, and she was curious if Running Tree liked to swim in trunks, speedos, or in the nude. She had yet to meet any man who actually looked good in speedos but she figured that when she found one, he would be the perfect man for her.

He smiled considering as he walked over to order some breakfast for them, "And what to drink?"

Timber stepped up the food making machine and looked up at Running Tree with puppy eyes.

Running petted Timber's head, "Your turn is soon, buddy."

"Orange juice is cool," 8-ball said. She watched Running Tree pet Timber and frowned. Technically, 8-ball and Himne weren't really in a relationship, so she didn't feel bad about last night, but she wasn't sure what Running Tree was looking for. He just didn't strike her as the type to be into one night stands or very brief commitments. She thought about it for a minute more before deciding to just bring the subject out in the open. If he was cool with a casual thing, that was okay, but if he wanted more, she shouldn't have him believing she felt the same.

"I hate to spoil breakfast so early in the morning with, you know, serious talk," 8-ball said, "but I need to know where you want to be going with us. Is this a fun, sex and swim and breakfast thing every now and then, or are you looking for a real boyfriend/girlfriend thing?"

Running set the food on the table silently, but his face turned serious. He had ordered a plate of food for Timber, set it on the floor and sat at the table before looking at her. "I know your reputation, 8-Ball. I chose to be with you because, well to be honest, hormones. I do like you, but we don't have to be exclusive. I hope to win you over someday, but I'll settle for once and awhile." He smiled, "For now." He really hoped they would fall in love with each other, but hearing about her, he knew it would be hard. He wouldn't try, but use his natural charm. The cute wolf didn't hurt either.

8-ball smiled. "Well, that's okay, then." One eyebrow raised as she began to eat her blueberry pancakes. She knew she had to have some form of reputation (she just wasn't that subtle of a person) but she didn't know exactly what people were saying, although her two main guesses were 'slut' and 'psycho'. It made her curious. It also made her wonder about how far her own telepathy could go. As a half-Vulcan, 8-ball knew that she had some form of telepathic powers but because she tried to so hard to be human all the time, she had always repressed them, never learned to use them. 8-ball still hated the idea of being Vulcan, but telepathy could be interesting. . .she wondered if she could learn to focus it to hear what others were saying.

It was something to do to pass the time, anyway. Certainly not work.

8-ball decided not to discuss any of this with Running Tree. Instead, she said, "I'm not saying nothing serious can ever happen between us, Running Tree, but I'm not looking for it right now. If you say you're okay with it, then I'll accept your word on it. In the meantime, these pancakes are delicious." She and Running Tree ate while talking, and when they were done, 8-ball asked, "So, how about that swim?"

Running smiled, "So we're not serious now, but not discounting it could ever happen. Deal. And I was thinking about a holoprogram in the likes of Lake Michigan of Earth, unless you prefer another spot."

8-ball shrugged. "Works for me." She got up from the table and smiled at him. "Ready when you are, Sir Running Tree."

He went to put the plates away and petted the wolf, "Stay buddy." He walked back over to 8-Ball, "Ready."

As they walked out he added, "You can just call me Running or some other nickname. I know the name's kinda cumbersome."

8-ball shrugged. "That's okay. Everybody thinks 8-ball's really silly but it's still my name so that's what they get to call me." She smiled at him. "Besides, if I like you enough, I'll find a good nickname for you." She glanced at him suggestively and grinned.

He grinned back, "Oh, I can't wait to figure out what that would be."

"I think we'll need a couple more times in the sack before I can figure out something appropriate," 8-ball said with a wicked smile. "Come on, Tree-boy. Let's hit the lakes."

He smiled at the nickname. From her, it fit. "A few more times in the sack I do not object." He winked at her as they headed to the holodeck.

"Girl's Night"

Lt. Ella Grey
Ens. 8-ball Hunter
Ens. Branwen London
Ens. Indigo Renkert, apc

****

Indigo Renkert stood before her mirror and narrowed her eyes.

Braids, she finally decided. A bunch of little braids was what her hair was needing today and maybe some colored yarn woven in. She was feeling like being cheerful today, for the first time in awhile, and she thought braids would be a nice start.

Indy checked the time as she began pulling on her blue strands. Only a half hour until 8-ball, Ella, and Branwen showed up. She had planned this little girl's night out because she was tired of feeling as blue as her hair and Ella had seemingly decided that she would live and breathe work instead of deal with whatever was bothering her. 8-ball, Indigo thought, could use a break from all those little children she had to watch now after that incident with Samantha Widdlestein. And from the little girl who had died when the ship had been attacked. And it was always fun to throw a psychologist into the mix.

Yep, they could definitely all use a break.

With a smile, Indigo thought of the three bottles of illegal Romulan ale, hiden somewhere under her bed, just waiting to be opened.

****

8-ball stepped out of her quarters and quickly stepped back inside. That evil lieutenant that she hated from sciences was outside and she did not want to have to pretend to be cordial or nice or anything. Tonight was all about relaxing, about hanging out with friends, drinking, and vegging out.

Tonight was emphatically NOT about work, dealing with annoying people, loud, crazy children, or dead, depressing children. 8-ball was determined to have a good night, and if she didn't, she might have to kill somebody.

After a few minutes, 8-ball poked her head into the corridor and saw that the coast was clear. She sneaked out anyway and pretended to be a covert op spy just for the hell of it. After a few people gave her strange looks, she stuck her tongue at them all and decided to walk like normal. She was just outside Indy's room when she ran into Ella.

"Hey," 8-ball said. "If it isn't my favorite little not-so-mute mute."

Ella waved a hello. When she figured out that this wasn't going to be acceptable, she heaved a dramatic sigh and opened her mouth. "Hello 8-ball."

"Don't sigh at me like that, missy," 8-ball said. "You can't just go from being silent girl running around to girl with newfound and improved robot voice running and expect people to be satisfied with sign language and comical facial expressions. And hi, it's nice to see you too. I brought booze with me of course; you can never have too much liquor at a shindig. What do you got hiding in there?"

The engineer smiled and showed her friend the plate of brownies in her bag. She figured she wouldn't have to bring the drinks; between 8'ball and Indy there was bound to be plenty.

She wondered what Branwen would think about their party. Ella doubted if the woman had ever gotten drunk in her life. Probably a good part of why she had decided that her counselor was okay to have over.

8-ball's eyes got very big. "Oooh," 8-ball said. "Yay! Booze and chocolate, booze and chocolate! My life is complete, or would be if we had a male stripper coming along too. Think Indy brought one?"

Ella rolled her eyes.

8-ball shrugged. "Eh, oh well." Then she raised her voice outside Indy's quarters. "Yo, Indy! Let us in, or we aren't sharing the goodies we've got out here!"

Indigo poked her head outside the door, the large green hoops swinging from her ears. "Aw, dang. I havent eaten dinner yet." She snatched the bag from Ella and went back to the living room where the ale and a ton of food was waiting. "Okay, let's get drinking."

***Some time later***

"You *have* to choose, 8." Indigo wailed while Ella continued to mechanically giggle. "That's the whole point of the game."

"I choose option C," 8-ball said, drinking from the Romulan ale and stetching her legs out comfortably against the sofa. "Suicide. Long and extensive suicide. It's preferable to either option." She glanced around. "I wonder where Bran is. She was supposed to be here awhile ago."

"Common, it's not that hard. Would you rather do Bhrode or Streely?" Indigo pressed.

"I'd rather screw a Keebler elf. And would you stop that, Ella? The robot giggle's freaking me out."

Ella shrugged and helped herself to another bottle of ale.

8-ball rolled her eyes and thought about it. Jeez. Bhrode or Streely. . .Bhrode or Streely. . .super-massive-evil versus weird-little-shrimp. . .hmmmm. . . "Bhrode," 8-ball finally said. "All that testosterone and evil good fun, he'd have to be worth something in the sack. I wonder how big he actually is. . .hmm. "So, Giggles, here's a question for you: If you decided to give up men forever and lavish your attentions on the fairer sex, who on board. . .besides the two people in this room. . .would you do?"

Ella pouted.

"That's not going to help you, you know. You have to answer the question."

Ella tapped her lips in thought. Of course, since she was drunk she missed a couple of times.

~~T'Shani~~ She signed after a moment.

Indigo nodded. "Oh, yeah. She's hot!"

8-ball raised an eyebrow. "Got a thing for the blue chicks, eh? Yeah, she's pretty sexy. . .in a dangerous, I could kick your ass-uber dominitrax evil sort of way. She is a pretty good kisser," 8-ball mused.

Ella rolled her eyes at that and then wrote out her reply on her computer PADD just for the hell of it. *IF U HADD TO MARY SOMEEONE ON THE SHIP, WHOO WOUL IT BE AND WHY?*

At that moment Branwen ran in.  "I am so sorry I am late.  Can you believe it, I never get marine patients.  And then tonight there's an emergency."

8-ball shrugged. "Don't worry, you're fine. Indy's relatively sober, Ella's relatively not, and I, of course, could drink any of you girls under the table. Besides, there's actually still some booze and some brownies waiting to be demolished, so dig in." Then she glanced at the computer pad. "Ella, you're drunk, so make use of your mechanical voice that doesn't slur instead of trying to type since you obviously can't. But in response to your question. . .Victor. Just to be mean. What about you Bran? If you had to marry someone on the ship, who would it be and why would he be the lucky man?

Branwen blushed.  "Saul, of course."  Then what had been said about Ella sank in.  "Mechanical voice?"  She had not seen her patient in a while.

"YOU CAN' !" Ella yelled and giggled. Both were oddly flat. "He's miiiiiinnnne!. The jerkhead."

"Hence, the point," 8-ball said dryly, and then stopped and looked at Bran. So SAUL was the guy she liked. . .but 8-ball thought Nara was Saul's girl. . . interesting. It looked like Saul had been a very naughty little boy.

8-ball decided that, for once, she would be tactful and not bring up Nara in front of Branwen, but she might have to eventually go find Saul and tease the shit out of him again. It had been awhile since the last time, and it was fun to do.

Instead, 8-ball said, "You know what we should do, El, is get Vicky as drunk as you are now and then see what happens between you." ~Or would that unleash Dr. Death Man~ 8-ball wondered to herself. ~Eh. I'm almost curious enough to try it out."

Ella snorted. "I'm purfectly find without himm. And, yeah, Branwenny, I got a new voice." Her face darkened somewhat. "I don't like it at all. Let's drink more."

"Yeah, cause that's what you need," 8-ball said, but certainly didn't mind. "How about it, Branwen? Like something to drink? Or should we play a drinking game? Those can turn out fun."

Branwen waved her comment off.  She was still sober and not completely in party mode yet.  She was focusing on Ella.  "What don't you like, Ella?" Usually she would never talk about herself.

"Is horrrible."  Ella said, waving her arms for emphasis. "I sound like a durned rrrobot. An' I didn't want to speek in the furst place."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Be-cuz..." Ella began but stopped herself. Somehow she knew she was on dangerous territory here and needed to change the subject. "Victur is soooo hott. Les brrainsturm a way to make hmm mine. Cause he not coopur...cooper...he's not playin' fair."

"We can talk about that later, honey."  Branwen said gently.  "Why did you change your voice like that?"

8-ball restrained herself from sighing but it was with effort. She should have known better than to plan a girl party with a counselor. It always ended up serious. And if Ella needed the counselling, that was fine, but this seemed weird somehow.  . .like watching your friend get taken advantage of, only in a headshrinky and not sexual way. Besides, if Branwen and Ella were going to do some serious therapuetic chit chat, then 8-ball would have nothing to do but sit and watch, and that could get boring very quickly.

Therefore she turned to Indy. "Indy," 8-ball said, "I think we should talk. We've been friends for a long time now, and I think it's time for you to finally admit how your changing hair color every two weeks is indicative of your troubled relationship with your long since estranged mother."

"Excuse me."  Branwen said and pulled 8-ball aside.  "I'm really sorry for ruining your party.  But you see Ella is my patient, and I have this feeling that she is really miserable, usually she never wants to talk.  I am doing this because I hope that if she talks I can help her."  She shot the other woman a pleading look to let her do this.

"We'll just go get some more punch." Indigo said, holding up an empty bottle of Romulan ale. "I think I've got some more stashed under my bed.

"Aule is good." Ella smiled happily, laying down on the floor to rest.

Branwen just shot another pleading look at 8-ball.

8-ball put up her hands. "All right, all right. Look, she's my friend, I want her to be good too. I just don't want her to get sucked into revealing things she isn't ready to reveal. But counselor's know best. You talk and I'll be over there with Indy, out of the way, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, 8-ball followed Indy to the other side of the room.

"No more taulk." Ella frowned. "I sleep now. Dream happy thoughts."

"Just a minute, honey."  Branwen said.  Then she hesitated, 8-ball was right.  She could not take advantage of Ella.  With a sigh she got up. "It's OK, you sleep, we will talk later."  Then she walked over to the other two women.  "Let's party.  I am Branwen, by the way."  She introduced herself to Indigo.

"Indigo Renkert." Indy said with a smile even as she saw Ella wink. She thought her friend hadn't had enough ale to get *that* plastered yet, not with the amount of brownies that she had inhaled."And my mother and I aren't really estranged. She actually loves my hair colors, especially Orion Green Delight."

"Uh-huh," 8-ball said."I'm sure."

"Nice to meet you. Don't worry, I will not try to analyse you.  I am here for fun.  I had a momentary lapse when I saw Ella.  I really want to help her, and she finds it so difficult to talk.  Yet this would have been wrong, the relationship between a should be built on trust and honesty."

8-ball shrugged. "That's okay. We all lapse sometimes." She grinned. "Oh, and by the way, Bran, feel free to have as many drinks and what's left of the brownies you like. So, anyway, now that we're here, what are we going to do with ourselves? Anbody got any good party suggestions? Truth or dare, drinking games, Twister. ..?"

Bran looked uncertain.  "You guys choose, I will try anything.  I didn't play games growing up, so it's all new to me."

"Well," Indigo said with a smile. "Ever play Bottle caps?"

"No.  But I am willing to try anything."

****

Branwen groaned.  She was feeling really strange, and uncomfortable.  Slowly she opened one eye and noticed she was laying on the floor.  Furthermore these were definitely not her quarters.  She sat up, and immediately lay down again groaning.  Something must be wrong with the ship, it was spinning like mad.

8-ball sat nearby, watching Branwen with a smile. 8-ball liked Branwen well enough, but pretty much everyone enjoys this sadistic pleasure of watching someone else suffer through what's going to be obviously terrible hangover. 8-ball had a bit of a headache herself, and wasn't planning on running any marathons or anything, but she had been through much worse, and was relatively in a good mood. Besides, she was pretty good at Bottle Caps. She hadn't had to drink nearly as much. "How you doin' there, Bran?"

"My head... what's the emergency... why is the ship spinning."  Branwen groaned.

From under her pillow, Ella shushed the pair, wondering why they were screaming at each other when it was so early in the morning and they were in the same room. Didn't they know that she was trying her best to suffocate herself so that her headache would pass? She should have just pretended to be asleep all night instead of getting her 'second wind' an hour later.

Indigo groaned. "Romulan ale should be illegal."

Ella's hands appeared from under the pillow.

Indy scowled. "Yeah, I *know* it's illegal. It should just be more illegal. Like really, really hard to find. You should have to travel twenty miles barefoot up a spintered wood and broken glass path up a mountain in the desert to reach a tiny monestary with a million steps and a man who doesn't speak Federation Standard and likes to stroke his beard emphatically and do the funky chicken *naked* before you are able to purchase this stuff."

Branwen didn't say anything, she had fallen asleep again.

There was a pause from the pillow before Ella stuck her thumb out in approval of the plan.

8-ball rolled her eyes, bounced up, and smiled at them all. "You guys are all weak," she told them. "So, who wants a huge breakfast of pancakes, waffles, hash browns, eggs, and Cheerios?"

There was another pause before Indigo and Ella threw their pillows at 8-Ball's head.

"How to recruit an agent in 7 simple steps - Part I, Marching Orders"

Lieutenant J.G. Saul Bental

Intelligence Officer / Lily Squad leader

* * * Starfleet Academy, 2402 * * *

The Deltan cadet smirked. "… so Damian came to the instructor, and told her, Nyo-"

Suddenly, the cadet he was chatting with turned pale, and gazed in horror at some point just outside the Deltan's point of view. The Deltan began to secrete strong odurs as he slowly spun around, to face the petite Japanese Instructor.

"Gossip about me should be discussed behind me back – not yours.", Commander Nyoko Yuuri indicated, with a smirk of her own. With that, she walked to the front of the class, and placed a couple of PADDs on the table before leaping and sitting on it. She wiggled back and forth, bringing herself to a comfortable position.

"All right Intelligence majors, this week will be devoted to Human Intelligence, or espionage.", She paused as some excited whispers were exchanged throughout the classroom. "We've already discussed some basics last Thursday, but as you know there's a lot much to it. Recruiting and operating agents is an art. An art most of you are too young, immature and inexperienced to even begin mastering – and some of you never will."

She placed her right foot over the left one, stretching slightly. The years that passed since she was an Intelligence analyst on the Galaxy didn't make her younger, but her inner flame wasn't diminished nonetheless. As a result, the pace of her speech was still somewhere between warp seven and warp eight.

"Later this week, we'll have some expert Humint operators come in here and share their knowledge with you. I would like to start this week by providing you a case study from twenty years ago, though. I was once very young, an Ensign in the Intelligence department of the Galaxy – you know, back when you were in your mother's womb, or in an egg, or something."

One of the female cadets giggled; By her looks, she was probably one of those who were in an egg, or in a something.

"My squad leader was this guy called Saul Bental. One of those sneaky types, even though he was a real nice guy. It was only thanks to him I got the Lieutenant J.G. on 2383. We later found out he was running this whole business operation on the side… but I'm straying. Anyway, Today I'm going to show you how Saul went through the entire path of recruiting a new agent in seven, simple steps. Watch – and learn."

Nyoko ordered the computer to dim the lights in the class, and operated the holoprojector next to her.

Letters emerged one by one above Instructor Yuuri's head.

STEP 1 : MARCHING ORDERS

* * * USS Galaxy, Intelligence CIC Present day* * *

"All of this leads me to believe that McCauley didn't die when the ship crashed.", Saul summed up. He was sitting in a small conference room with the other two Lily squad members, Ensign Nyoko Yuuri and Petty officer Seren. It was their first meeting after he returned from surface of Trill, and found out that Lily squad was assigned by Cora Dobryin to follow up the trails of evidence leading from the Akula's crash to major alien forces.

The Intelligence community didn't believe that Commander Thomas was acting alone; Therefore, several teams were assigned to find out exactly what events took place prior to the crash, and Saul's team was one of them. Right now they were discussing the prime suspect on the Akula : Lieutenant Commander Chris McCauley, the Chief Navigation Officer.

"I began to inspect his personal logs,", said Seren, "They were found on the neural jellpack which you retrieved. It took us and Engineering over three weeks to restore the data. It…"

The door behind Saul chirped. "Who is it?", He inquired instinctively.

"Excuse me, am I interrupting?", came the voice of petty officer Lysandra Stuart. Saul sighed. Lysandra was perhaps the most junior Intelligence analyst in the department, but she always somehow got her hands on precious bits of information. Saul began to wonder if there was someone sponsoring the petty officer.

"Come in.", he invited her. She entered, approached him.

"Saul, Cora asked me to deliver two messages to you. First, you are invited to a meeting with Commander Henderson and Commander Dallas at 20:00 hours today."

Saul frowned. It was probably a meeting about faking Nara's death. The 'princess' would make a very lousy Intelligence officer. She promised not to let anyone know that he was involved, but lying was probably too difficult for her, as well as obscuring the truth.

Oh well, both Henderson and Dallas favored him – or so he hoped. At any rate, he already had a strategy in mind to minimize the damage.

"Second thing, there's this.", She handed a PADD to Saul. "Just another thing they want you to handle, parallel to the Akula investigation. Hope you don't mind the extra work load."

Saul read the first couple of lines, and furrowed his brow. "Thank you, Lysandra, that would be all."

The petty officer nodded and left the room. As the door closed, Saul read the first two lines over and over again. The mission was not signed by anyone specific, but he knew without doubt who gave it to him. It was there, between the lines, and it wasn't Cora.

He remained silent for a long while, before speaking up again. Broken sentences from the recent seemingly innocent political chat at ten forward flooded his mind.

"All right ladies and Vulcanoids, looks like we got new marching orders! What I'm going to discuss with you will remain confidential, within the squad. Be aware that I'm not going to share all the information with you, and that this is a very delicate issue. First, Seren, we will need a list of all the officers who came on board with Rear Admiral Olivia Proctor."

"Announcement"

Lt. Ella Grey w/ unauthorized appearence by Victor Krieghoff :)

****

Probably because all of her brain cells had died due to of the vast amounts of Romulan ale and other alcohol that she had consumed, Ella found herself outside Victor's door once more.

She frowned as she looked at the door and then tapped her foot impatiently as she looked at where she imagined the device for the video feed was. After all the man put her through, he was going make her knock as well?

Why was she even here? Oh yeah, because alcohol only killed brain cells and did liver damage. It didn't seem to put a dent in the human heart or that annoyance inconvenience called 'love.'

Ella forced herself not to grind her teeth and rapped smartly on the door.

~~How DARE you tell me that I have no place in your life anymore?~~ Ella signed as soon as the door opened and before Victor could get a word in.

She poked him in the chest before she began signing again. ~~That's the second time you've tried to push me away from you and I'm sick of it, Krieghoff! I just drank my body weight because I'm so sick of it and I'm going to go spend a transport load of my father's credit down on the Starbase because I need to get over how peeved I am at you. And when I get back, we're GOING to have a long discussion even if I have to strap you down to the chair and hire an interpretter to translate for both of us! And you will be here and not hiding in the gym or the holodeck or outter space or something! So you can just take your 'places' and your 'death spectre' and shove them up your sexy ass 'cause I'll visit you if you want me to or not!~~

And with that she turned on her heel and left.

"First Impressions"

Branwen London
Samantha Widdlestein

****

Samantha looked over her the frames of her stylish black framed glasses, and down her nose, at the counseling department. "This place is going to need a lot of work."

She entered London's office with a theatrical air of clinical detachment. "I'm ready to start seeing our patients now. Point the way, fellow counselor."

Branwen had just read the notice the Capt send her.  She was very surprised that she had been chosen as a mentor for a child.  She was pretty young herself, and didn't see herself as a fit mentor.  Yet she was willing to make the best of this.

"First, have a seat, Samantha.  I would like to get to know you.  I am Branwen."  She said.

"I read your bio." Sam said waving her hand as she sat. "As for me, I'm a genius. Im sure it will take me about a day to learn the ways of this... place and then improve upon them."

"And where did you get my bio? if you want to be a Marine or a councilor, you will have to learn to follow orders.  And you have to learn modesty, young lady.  Nobody likes a snotty nosed teenager who thinks she's better than everybody."  Branwen said honestly.

Samantha rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Modesty is just an invention of the untalented. I'm not going to dumb down my intelligence just because everyone else cant catch up. And I don't want to be a marine or a counselor. I'm just here because that Hunter chick got me in trouble.

"I see you also blame others."  Branwen said dispassionately.  "Very mature. So far you are not impressing me at all, young lady."

"I don't have to impress you." Sam sneered. "You're stuck with me as much as I'm stuck with you."

"Yet I am the adult, Miss, and I am in charge."  Branwen shot back amused.

Sighing a bit, mostly because she realized that Arel would have smacked her by now and start spewing something about Klingon honor and the like, Samantha decided to make peace. "Okay, so you're not all entirely useless. What are we doing today?"

"Today, you are going to learn about the basics, and you are going to learn a little discipline.  Follow me!"  She got to her feet.  "We are going to the gym."

Sam lifted an amused eyebrow. If this woman thought that she didn't know anything about sweating, she'd be sadly mistaken.

Okay, Sam amended, so her workouts with Arel were usually restricted to knife practice but Samantha knew she was pretty good a throwing on target. She just hoped Branwen wouldn't decide to do something that would make her sweat *too* much.

She'd straightened her hair this morning.

Branwen had read some of the girls file and knew this was not going to be easy.  Samantha would not be easy to impress, and even harder to win her confidence.

"Right."  Branwen said when they came to the gym.  "Start doing your warming up exercises first 20 minutes."  She joined in herself.

Samantha scowled but started stretching like a prima ballerina.

Branwen watched the girl work, it was clear she had done this before.

"So, what now?"

"Now we start working out like the marines."  She pointed to an obstacle course.  "Let's start with taking it five times."  With another child she would have said two or three comer Branwen was not underestimating Samantha.

Samantha made a loud disgusted noise but preceeded to run over to the hurdles. Hunter was *so* going to get it for this; she *hated* the hurdles.

Branwen easily kept up, and in the meantime studied the child.  It was clear she didn't like this, and yet she was trying.

"This isn't going to teach me a thing." Sam shot out at the counselor. "Except how much I hate sweating."

"Then that is something.  Just ten more minutes."  Branwen said without much sympathy.

Samantha chose several choice words in Klingon that would have made Arel proud.

After ten minutes was up, Samantha plopped down on the floor. "Piece of cake."

"On your feet!"  Branwen bellowed.  "This was just the introduction.  Start climbing up and down the rope 20 times."

"Slavery is forbidden in the Federation." Samantha shot back, crossing her arms. Hurdles were one thing but ropes? She didn't do ropes.

"Of course it is.  Do you mean to say it's too much for you?"  Branwen asked innocently.

"What in the name of Slartibartfast's bunghole is this supposed to prove?" Samantha said exasperated. "I mean honestly, Lady, if coporal punishment had any effect on me, don't you think my parents would have used it by now?"

"Probably.  Yet I can tell you from personal experience it doesn't help.  I am not asking anything impossible of you.  In fact the programme adults have to do is at least twice as hard.  Yet if this is too difficult for you... after all you are only a child."

"I am NOT only a..." Sam began to bellow before she broke off and crossed her arms. "Clever of you."

"Thank you."  Branwen said simply.

"Gawd." Samantha moaned and turned towards the next obstacle. "I'm only climbing this rope to get away from your cheerful optimisim."

"Of course, dear."  London watched her, and was secretly impressed with Samantha's skills.

Samantha gritted her teeth as she slowly inched up the rope. She seriously was considering going to her quarters to find her Hirogen stilleto and then showing this woman how much of a child she was. Surely, someone onboard would thank her.

It would be hard getting to the Academy, however, from a cell in the brig.

Then again, maybe the Academy had a kind of home schooling program.

She finally collapsed on the ground. "What now, Evil One?"

"I think you have exercised enough for one day.  So let's hit the showers. And afterwards back to my office."  Bran said cheerfully.

"I'm in hell." Sam muttered in perfect imitation of her older friend as she stalked off to the showers.

****

Samantha looked at the ends of her hair in disgust. "They were so perfect this morning."

Branwen hid a smile.  "Don't worry, they will dry."

"Sshh." Sam said raising a hand. "I'm brooding."

"If you like I could braid it for you later.  But first we are going back to my office."

Grumbling, Samantha followed the woman back to her office and sat down on the chair. She was beat and now she knew the psychological warefare would commence.

"Do your worst." Sam sneered.

Branwen steepled her fingers the old-fashioned way.  "You are so young, why do you think a shrink would be out to get you?"

"Because they shrinks?" Samantha asked sarcastically. "You guys sneak out all sorts of information out of people. Well, it won't work on me, Branwen." She tapped her forehead. "I'm a genius, remember?

***Five minutes later****

"No one ever takes me seriously." Samantha sobbed to her therapist.

Branwen was not completely sure yet if the tears were genuine, or if the child was playing with her again.  She decided not to take chances, and be sympathetic.

"Tell me about it."  She said gently.

"I'm really, really smart." Sam cried. "I can't help it if my brain capacity is larger than a handful of people. It's hard to be an isolated genius."

Branwen smiled slightly and then opened her mouth to speak.  Yet Sam was quicker.

"See!!! You don't take me seriously either!"

"No. I am sorry, I do believe you.  It's just that you remind me so much of my brother and my nephew.  And a little bit of myself.  Although I was never as smart as you."  She said very seriously.  "I do know how difficult it is growing up when others don't understand you."

"Oh, yeah?" Sam shot, wiping back her teary eyes with her sleeve. "How so?"

"I grew up in a family where my family members did not understand me. Unlike your parents, my father used to hit me when he didn't.  So I ran away from home and found a place where people did understand me.  My sister and my brother.  And my nephew.  So yes, I do understand not blending in, and how frustrating it can get."  Usually she didn't discuss this with many people. 

Yet she sensed Samantha needed the honesty.

Sam looked horrified. "Where did you grow up? Mars? Where the hell was Child Services? I would sue the pants off my parents if they tried anything like that."

"Wales.  A small colony my grandfather had set up.  And there were no Child services allowed."  Branwen said smiling.  "I only told you to show you I understand.  It doesn't mean you don't have to try to adapt."

"Why do *I* have to adapt?" Samantha demanded. "Why can't people learn to adapt to me?"

"Because to be honest if you are the one they keep telling has to change, there probably is some truth in it.  Now before you get angry, or start denying it.  Just think for a few seconds.  Is there anything about yourself that you would like to improve if you could?"

"I'd be less flat." Sam said.

"That my dear will grow, maybe even more than you want."  Branwen said.

Samantha rolled her eyes. "I *suppose* I could be more patient with people."

"Why?  Is it a problem for you, or for others that you notice?"

"How should I know?" Samantha asked. "I'm just trying to think of some flaw that I could have. That usually seems to be a key flaw with most people." She sniffed. "I think I need a tissue."

"Here you go."  Branwen said.  The child was not stupid, she had not mentioned it out of the blue.

"Don't these counselling sessions ever end?" Sam complained. "I swear I'm never going to be a counselor. I could never stand listening to anyone but myself for more than thirty minutes."

Bran smiled.  "You get used to it.  But I think you have worked hard today. So I'm letting you go now.  Think about what we talked about, and I'd like to see you back tomorrow."

Samantha groaned into her tissue and began to mentally curse Captain M'Kantu for thinking up this punishment.

"I'll try and fit it into my schedule." She finally relented.

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