"Everybody's Favorite Time" - Part 2

Primary Characters:
Commander Cass Henderson, Executive Officer
Commander Karyn Dallas, Second Officer/Chief Counselor
Lieutenant JG Saul Bental, Intelligence Officer/Lily Squad Leader
Lieutenant JG Naranda Roswell, Engineer

****

Main Conference Room,
Deck 1,
USS Galaxy

Cass cleared away the last of the PADDs that he'd been using to compile data for the crew readiness report. He had pretty much completed the report, but would need to get some statements from some of the crew members regarding specific cases that needed to be taken care of. It was his least favorite part of the job, but it had to be done.

He'd scheduled the meeting with Saul Bental and Nara Roswell for late in the evening after they'd left Trill, so that he'd have time to prepare, and review the report from Commander O'Shea. He'd finished that, and now it was time for the meeting. He leaned back in his chair and retrieved a new mug of coffee from the replicator, then folded his hands and waited for the junior officers to arrive.

Nara tugged on her collar. Meeting with O'Shea was harsh enough. Her stomach churned. She was nervous leaving Saia to stay with Samantha in the arboretum. Something about a story. It seemed harmless enough. She had now focused her nerves on this meeting. She went over the details in her mind. What happened, minus Saul being involved.

She had a feeling it wouldn't slide and was sure Saul would be discovered to be a culprit anyway. All meaning she'd get another shift of trouble for covering that up. Darned honor and keeping her word. Otherwise she's rat the little rat out.

She stood outside the door, willing herself to calm down.

Soon, she coould hear Saul's footsteps. He came around the corner, wearing his Class-A Intelligence uniform. He smiled at her, and to her surprise he spoke - via the Universal Translator - in Sakarian.

"Were you questioned by anyone before this?", He whispered, pretending to lean forward to shake her hand.

Nara defiantly put her hands behind her back, not looking at him, but continuing to watch the door. "I got a mouthful from O'Shea, but she didn't ask me anything." She spoke in in Standard. She was annoyed that he spoke Sakarian. There was no need for it. If he was trying to impress her, it had the complete opposite effect.

Saul nodded and switched back to Standard. "Very well. Whenever you feel tangled, I'll take over the conversation. I might even ask you to leave the room. And I'm not going to lie and neither should you. Don't tell everything, but try not to lie."

She turned to him with a clenched face. She wispered to keep herself from yelling, "Right now, I'm the main one under investigation. You're just a suspected accomplice. I told you I would cover you. If you're too much of a coward to face up to it, fine. I can handle it myself."

Saul raised an eyebrow at the word 'coward', then pressed on the entry panel. "Commander Henderson, Lieutenants Roswell and Bental reporting as ordered sir."

"Come in and have a seat," Cass replied, picking out a fresh PADD to record the conversation with. Setting it up to do that, he placed it on the table next to his coffee cup, which he grabbed one long pull from before the others joined him.

Saul entered, a careful, confident smile on his face. "Good evening, Commander.", He said, standing at attention. He did not appear concerned, nor guilty.

Nara stepped in slowly with a frown on her face. She and the commander both knew she was under investigation. She wasn't going to act as if everything was ok. She wondered if Saul ever crossed the line to acting over confident and it blew up in his face. She hoped it would this time. She stood to attention, "Reporting as ordered, Commander."

"Go ahead and take a seat," he motioned for them both to sit on the side of the table closest to the door. "Councelor Dallas will be joining us, so it's going to be a few minutes before we get started. And try to relax. You're not on trial. This is just a routine investigation into the events that transpired on Trill."

Karyn arrived a few moments later, a considerably more sober expression on her face than most could ever recall seeing on her face. She nodded curtly to both and took her place beside Henderson.

"Good to see you, Counselor.", Saul said as Commander Dallas joined them. Dallas' arrival was actually a good thing, since her opinion of him should be positive after the incident with Tizarin's brother.

"And you," Dallas returned, reminding herself this was just a fact gethering session. She noted Nara seemed rather distant from Saul.

Nara nodded to the Commander. Any other mood she would had made a quip about how the woman can't seem to stay out of Nara's affairs or such. As of now, she was worried and knowing she was going to lie made her very on edge. There was also the added bonus on how this would effect other issues Dallas was working with her on. If she lied now, would anyone believe her about Professor Marks. Would they take Saia away? The anger for Saul fumed even more and the temptation to go back on her word rung in her ears as she tried to seem calm.

"Okay, everyone's here now, so we'll get started," Cass said, bringing the meeting to order. He leaned slightly forward in his seat, carefully examining the relationships and body language of the two junior officers. Yeah, this was definately his least favorite part of the job. "Lieutenant' Roswell, I'd like you to start. Any attempt to dissemble or give falsehoods as answers to the questions here will be considered a violation of the Starfleet Code. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." She said it meekly and steadily.

"Very good. Lieutenant' Roswell, I'd like you to start by detailing for me exactly what happened on Trill, as well as why it happened and what events lead up to it," he started, then leaned back to listen to her story.

Nara took a breath and looked down a moment to think. She then looked back up at Commander Henderson, "I was informed of an attempt on my life. The best course of action would be to make them think I was already dead until the assassin was caught. When we came to Trill, I went into a building and went into the tunnels below it. When it collapsed, it would seem I died, therefore the assassin would stop his persuit. For the weeks following, I was in a cloak helping the doctors in one of the medical tents. It turned out that the assassin was on Sakaria, so Commodore Roswell was able to apprehend him. After that, I came back to the ship." She wasn't lying. Just keeping Saul's name out of it. She also decided she wouldn't lie if asked directly if he was involved. She had too much at stake now.

"That's a little vague," Cass commented, then continued his line of questioning. "Let's start at the beginning and work our way through. Who informed you that there was going to be an attempt on your life, and exactly what did they tell you about it?"

Nara looked straight at him and tried to ignore the fact that Saul was next to her. "I was asked to come to the Intelligence department where I was just told there was a contract on me. I was told there wasn't much time, so I believed it. I was told it was to be kept secret. I didn't have time to consider the implications of not informing any superiors."

Nara would had glared at Saul had she knew it would blow this charade. She somehow knew she couldn't keep it up without revealing a name. She figured mentioning Intelligence was just as well as bluntly saying Saul Bental, but in this way she could also attempt to keep her word to Saul.

Cass turned to look at Saul. "Lieutenant' Bental, I assume you're the Intelligence officer in question? I do have to remind you, that you are also considered to be under oath of the Starfleet Code."

Nara looked down since the attention was no longer on her. She couldn't look at Saul. She wasn't sure she ever could again.

"Of course I am, otherwise I wouldn't be here.", Saul said, the smile not leaving his face. "I was also the one who suggested to Nara to handle the situation without making it public knowledge."

"May I ask how you obtained the information regarding the contract on her life?" Cass asked, slowly linking puzzle pieces and establishing facts. "Of course commander, but I will only provide the answer if the two ladies will be kind enough to leave the room for a moment."

Nara looked at Saul then. Kind her foot! "Why? If you remember, this pretty much concerns me." She tried to keep her voice steady and calm remembering the commanding officers in the room. The gratefulness that she wouldn't have to cover for him left as quickly as it came. But that's how it was with Saul. He would do something to tick her off, then make up for it and just as quickly tick her off again.

The Intelligence officer in question kept a straight face - except for that smile - and his gaze remained fixed on the Commander.

Nara was growing infuriated with that irritating diplomatic smile. "And wipe that fake smile off your face, Bental." She grumbled. She turned to Dallas and then to Cass. She waited for the commander to see how he would respond.

It wasn't Karyn's place to honor or deny Bental's request since even though she and Henderson shared the same rank, he was still the XO. Nevertheless, Karyn was not impressed with the Intelligence Officer's smile and seeming attempts to dismiss them, and even though she showed no sign of such things outwardly, she was reasonably sure Henderson would be aware of her displeasure.

As far as Karyn was concerned, where and how Saul had obtained his information wasn't the issue, it was what he had done as a result that was in error. Whereever it had come from, the two had obviously believed the source to be credible at the time.

Henderson frowned. Karyn wasn't going to like this. But as much as he respected Commander Dallas, he understood the operational security necessities of Starfleet Intelligence. Considering that he himself worked for SFI, it would surprising if he didn't understand Lieutenant' Bental's position.

"Very well, Mr. Bental," Cass replied, then motioned to the two women, "Counselor Dallas, Lieutenant' Roswell, if you could wait outside for a moment, I'd appreciate it. I'll call you back in when we're ready to continue."

Nara let out a breath and spoke defeatedly, "Yes sir." Nara gave Saul a look that could kill on her way out.

"With all due respect, sir," replied Karyn, turning to Henderson, "I fail to see why I'm required to leave the room, indeed why we're focused on the source of Lieutenant' Bental's information at all. As I see it, the issue is not whether the information Saul had was credible, but whether the Lieutenant acted outside the chain of command and contrary to his place within this crew. I may not have SFI connections, but I don't have to have them to know you act on what you believe to credible at the time. I'm sure Saul believed he had reliable information, but the issue is what he chose to do with it and what the consequences are for ignoring his own chain of command, not to mention for letting us believe Lieutenant Roswell was dead. As Second Officer, it is my job to be the gatekeeper for personnel matters for you and the captain, and I can't do so if I'm kept in the dark."

"I understand your position, Councelor," Cass sighed. Of course it would come down to this. "Rest assured that you'll be kept up to date, and that I am not dismissing this. I'll call you back in as soon as I can."

"Ma'am, I mean no offense... operational security, please understand.", Saul added. He really didn't want to get to Karyn's bad side, and he held the Galaxy's second officer in high esteem. It was, however, something between him and Henderson, and them alone.

Having said her peace, Karyn had no choice but to honor Cass' request. She hoped he would honor his commitment, although she had no evidence to suggest he would or he wouldn't. They had not established a trusting relationship as yet, and that was what bothered her about all this cloak and dagger stuff. Trust no one seemed to be the mantra of the SFI types, except of course the "others" who perhaps knew the secret handshake. It all seemed rather counter-productive considering the team atmosphere that was Starfleet and the checks and balances that a system with integrity required. "I'll await your word." It was clear she wasn't happy, but she respected his decision.

And as for Saul, Dallas had seen his smirk, and wasn't going to be moved by his attempts at false modesty now.

Cass watched the door close behind them. Once the two women had stepped out of the room, he removed a soundproofer from his pocket. A tiny device, the item broadcast enough ambient noise on the right frequencies to make listening in, mechanically or otherwise, virtually impossible, while at the same time not impeding conversation.

Ironically enough, it was the same device Saul Bental used during his subspace conversations with Grok, the Ferengi who hired him to assassinate Nara.

"Okay, Saul. This had better be good," he said, switching the device on.

Outside, Nara leaned against a wall, "Sometimes, that man..." Nara spoke to no one in particular, but knew Dallas heard.

As a Starfleet Commander and the senior officer investigating Nara's actions, Karyn would not badmouth any of her crew, but it wasn't difficult to know of her displeasure for the whole sordid mess.

Back inside, Saul's smile vanished without a trace. "The fact that Naranda Sol Roswell was about to be assasinated was brought to me by a Humint resource, even though I'm not a Humint operator.", He added, using the professional terms for 'agent' and 'spymaster'. "This is a source that I intend to protect at all cost, sir, and even though you are the person I trust the most on this ship and an SFI operative yourself, I'm not going to reveal his identity even if commanded to, despite knowing the price of insubordination."

The Intelligence officer inspected his superior for a moment, trying to assess a reaction.

"You can stop sizing me up and continue your story," Cass replied, slowly losing patience.

"Sorry. Given that person's identity and way he found out this information, I decided that I could not, under any circumstance, reveal the information to anyone but Nara herself. In fact, I think most of my colleagues would prevent that information from Nara, even though it may mean her death. Instead, it was I who proposed her to fake her death. She does not know why I didn't turn it to a superior officer such as O'Shea, and quite frankly I think it's a wonder that she didn't."

The Intelligence officer took a deep breath. "Also, understand that all of this took place during the Akula incident. We KNEW that there must be at least one mole somewhere, or else the villains behind the Akula's crash - Commander Thomas, as we later found out - couldn't succeed without having at least one mole in Starfleet. That strengthened my decision not to divulge the information about the iminent assassination with anyone but Naranda herself."

Saul folded his arms. "Bottom line. I tried to both keep Naranda alive and my Humint source protected, and from my outlook at the time the way with the best chance of success was to fake her death without informing anyone else. The next events were that she faked her death; Then, the guy who hired the assassin on Sakaria got careless, Nara's father found out, informed me via a middleman, and Naranda got out of hiding. End of story."

"Understandable. Saul, I'm going to have to ask you to reveal your source. I don't want to make it an order, but I will if I have to," Cass said, hands folded on the table. "Reveal your source to me, or to Lieutenant Dobryin. You can do that, and hopefully end the line of questioning here, or I can contact Starfleet Intelligence Internal Affairs."

Saul used every single lesson he learned about body language to control himself. If the Commander will involve SFI Internal Affairs branch in this, he will be more doomed than a Stormtrooper in a combat scene of a Star Wars movie.

"Neither one of us wants that. Honestly, I personally am not that concerned that you didn't follow the chain of command. Yes, you'll have to be reprimanded. Tough, it happens all the time to men like us."

"Yes, I realize that. Although I managed to keep a clean record so far.", Saul forced a grin. "As for the source, sir, I need to think about it and to consult. Revealing it even to you will cause considerable damage... surely you reached at least once in your career a position where you couldn't divulge information to your superior officers for some reason, so you must understand what a dillema it is for me."

"You can have a couple days, Saul," Cass offered, "But I need to know."

Saul slanted his eyes toward the door. "Should I invite the ladies back in?"

"I'll take care of it," Cass said, pushing himself out of his seat and walking over to the door. He wanted Saul as an asset, but if he couldn't trust the other Intelligence Officer to divulge information to him, he would be far less inclined to trust. But that debate, he knew, was beyond the scope of the current issue. "Come on in, ladies," he said after opening the door.

Nara stepped back in and took her seat, not looking at Saul. Her angered cooled somewhat. She realized, bottom line, he saved her life and he seemed ok with admitting to being involved. She still wanted to know why he wouldn't give her more information, but decided to not focus on that, for much, for now.

"Okay," Cass started, "I'm going to prepare my recommendation to Captain M'Kantu. As Councelor Dallas pointed out, it isn't important as to why you failed to notify your superior officers. What is important is that you understand why the chain of command is in place, and how to follow it. My recommendation will be that a formal reprimand will be placed on your files for failure to follow command procedure. You'll both be required to take a course in Advanced Starfleet Protocols from the Academy, while continuing your duties here. Do you both understand?"

Nara nodded. It wasn't nearly as bad as she feared. "Yes sir."

"Yes sir.", Saul echoed.

"Good. You're both dismissed," Cass said, and folded up the PADDs as he prepared to leave. With the revelation that O'Shea and Slayton were getting married, his crew analysis was complete, and he could turn in the report to the Captain.

"How I've Missed You!"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineer

Saia Juis (APC)
K'Erin (APC)

***Starbase 212***

Saia, for once, was more engrossed in her surroundings than in the PADD. Actually, Nara had to pocket it because as they moved slowly across the promenade, Saia had left it on the railing. Nara knew Saia would be upset if they left it. They watched the people mill around down below. Nara from watching a familiar scene. Saia from experiencing something new.

Nara felt a tinge of homesickness for DS9, but that went as quickly as she saw a familiar Klingon look up and wave at her. She smiled and touched Saia's shoulder, "Come on. There's an old friend of mine!"

Saia watched with confused intrigue. Nara was hugging a Klingon. From what Saia understood of Klingons, they'd eat anything. Maybe she was wrong. She had saw she misunderstood a LOT about different species. Like Betazoids. After learning that Nara was part Betazoid, she dismissed that they couldn't talk out loud.

"Erin, this is Saia." Nara said with a smile so large it was insane. She hadn't seen her best friend in years.

Erin looked over the child and a look of confusion crossed his face. The child was Trill. And he was sure Nara would had told him she was married or had a child. He looked back at her, "We all know how bad you are at correspondence, but I'd hoped you'd tell me something as important as having a kid."

Nara frowned slightly, "Uh. No, it's not like that.." Nara led him by the elbow to a table.

After they settled in and Saia was back to people-watching, Nara continued, "We went to Trill for the relief efforts and she was there and she lost her parents, so I brought her back to the Galaxy with me."

Erin looked at her and let out a hearty laugh. Saia jumped and looked at him. Nara raised an eyebrow. Then he spoke, "How did YOU end up with her?"

Saia frowned at him and gave Nara a look as if saying, ~What kind of friends do you choose?~ Nara crossed her arms at him, "Excuse me?"

Erin grinned having missed her little defensive attitude, "Come on, Randa, YOU. Warrior Daughter of Sakaria, Tough as Nails.." He stopped when he realized she wasn't appreciating this.

She frowned and spoke softly, looking down, "And you of all people, know all that's only a skin deep mask."

Erin frowned and nodded. He did know. He didn't know all the details, but there was something that made her vulnerable and scared and weak.and he knew how she hated that about herself. "I'm sorry." He put a hand on her arm, "She's very lucky to have you to watch over her."

Nara looked up and smiled a bit. "I'm lucky to have her." She winked at Saia. Saia just gave a weird look and went back to watching the people at some game.

"Double Image"

Ensign 8-ball Hunter

The day hadn't started out so bad until she met the little girl named Melanie.

8-ball had begun her day ten minutes later than practical, which for her was five minutes earlier than normal, so she got off to a good start with a nice sonic shower and a decent breakfast of chocolate covered bananas. Then she got to the kidnergarten class and nobody had stolen another kid's lunch or had an accident. The terror twins were surprisingly quiet, and the little girl who always cried was strangely not crying. 8-ball had been feeling pretty good about the whole thing until she was introduced to Melanie.

Melanie was a half human, half Bajoran kid who hadn't been around a lot lately because of some illness that 8-ball didn't know about. This was Melanie's third day back at class and 8-ball got assigned to her to be a reading buddy. Melanie was a surprisingly good reader, so 8-ball didn't have to do much and was enjoying herself until the book was finished.

In the story, the ten year old heroine had wanted a life of adventure and space battles, but after fighting some seriously mondo evil aliens, she realized that a simple farm life back on Earth with her parents was the way to go. Melanie, the eight year old prodigy, disagreed with little Space Sally's choice.

"If I was the girl in this book," Melanie said, "I wouldn't have gone back to Earth. That's so. . .so. . .my mom used this word the other day, and it was really cool."

"Boring?" 8-ball suggested.

"No, that's a dumb word," Melanie said. "No, it was like it was all this adventure and then the girl just decided never mind, I didn't want it anyone. It was anti. . .anti. . ."

"Anti-climatic?"

"Yeah!" Melanie said. "It was SO anti-climatic! If it had been me in that story, I woulda stayed on the ship and had more adventures. Why should this one thing change Space Sally's mind about her whole life?"

8-ball shrugged. She hadn't really gotten into the story, so it was hard to make a defense for the author and sound particularly convicing. Still, 8-ball figured that was her job, to try and interject a moral or something stupid like that. "Well, she wanted to be with her parents," 8-ball said, "and she realized that her family was more important to her than some aliens and some explosions." 8-ball almost cringed as the words came out of her mouth. What a crock of bullshit.

Apparantly, Melanie agreed. "That's dumb," Melanie said. "If I was that girl, I wouldn't go home. I'd say 'Hey, Mommy, Daddy. I'm going to have some fun exploring the galaxy, so you guys come along.' And then I could be with my family AND have some fun."

8-ball shrugged again. The kid had a point. And 8-ball really didn't care.

"When I grow up," Melanie said, "I'm not going to live on some silly old planet and grow beans or something boring like that. I'm going to be out in space DOING things. I'm going to be in Starfleet just like my Mommy and Daddy, and I'm going to fight Borg, and go see neat planets, and all kinds of cool stuff. My Daddy works in security but that seems pretty lame to me. My Mommy works in Engineering, though, and I'm going to be an engineer too." The little Bajoran girl looked up at 8-ball and grinned. She had a tooth missing near the front and it made her look absolutely adorable. 8-ball tried to smile at her but couldn't. She felt very strange all of a sudden, and couldn't quite figure out why.

"My mommy takes me to Engineering where she works sometimes," Melanie said, unaware of 8-ball frowning down at her. "It's pretty cool. The warp coil is huge, and it looks really awesome. I wanted to go and touch it but my Mom wouldn't let me."

~I want to see engineering~ someone said in 8-ball's head, and she frowned deeper. She remembered someone saying that; who had it been? ~I want to see engineering. That's where all the real action goes on.~

"I told my friend Riktor that I had seen the warp coil and he didn't believe me; he thought I was making it all up. HIS mom works in Sickbay and she never lets him do anything; I wanted to sneak him into Engineering sometime so he could see the warp coil too. Hey, maybe you could take us some time. Do you think you could, 8-ball? Please?"

~But I wanna look at the warp coil! Pleeeeease, 8-ball! Pleeeeease!~

"No," 8-ball said, her voice sounding almost distant to her ears. "No, I don't think I could do that."

"Oh, come on! It'd be a lot of fun!"

~Pleeeeease, 8-ball! Pleeeeeease!~

~Not a chance.~ 8-ball remembered herself saying. ~Do you have any idea what the engineers would do to me if let a bunch of children run loose in their workspace? Homicide doesn't cover it. Crucifixation is much more likely.~

8-ball felt herself swallow. She knew who she was remembering now. She tried to focus on Melanie. Melanie was here now, in front of her, and she was alive and talking and waiting for 8-ball to respond. Melanie wasn't even Trill; she didn't look a damn thing like Azra had, and she didn't even sound that much like her either. Just because she liked engineering, that was no reason to try and compare the two in her head. Azra was dead and Melanie was not and there was no need to make correlations that weren't there.

~But their eyes are exactly the same~ 8-ball thought to herself, and she could feel her breath quicken, feeling less and less in control of this situation. ~Look at her eyes; they're exactly the same brown as Azra's. Look at her eyes; they're the same eyes you watched die.~

"8-ball? Ensign Hunter?"

"Yeah," 8-ball said, trying to shake the double imaging in her mind. "Yeah, I. . .no, it wouldn't be a good idea to take you to engineering. Something could go wrong. Someone. . .could get hurt."

8-ball remembered flying forwards as the ship had been struck again. She remembered getting up and seeing Azra's burnt body on the ground. No, she wasn't just remembering it; it was like she could see it. It was like it was happening again; it was like she was reliving it.

8-ball almost didn't hear Melanie sigh and switch subjects. She couldn't get Azra's face out of her mind, the blood trickling out of her mouth. She looked at Melanie and swallowed hard again because those eyes were so similar. . .and now 8-ball could see Melanie with a burned face, Melanie trying to be brave.

~Azra, it's me. It's 8-ball. Wake up. Wake up.~

~It's me. It's 8-ball. You remember? You remember me?~

~Of course I remember you. I'm not dumb.~

8-ball tried to calm her breathe. This wasn't happening to her. She wasn't going to go through this again; godammit, these two kids weren't anything alike, and what happened with Azra was done, it was gone. She wasn't going to act like she was some kind of traumatized victim!

But she could still see Azra in her mind; hear Azra's voice out of Melanie's lips.

~I can't. I can't get up. I can't move."

~Of course you can. Come on. I'll pick you up and carry you.~

~You. . .you can't. . .You can . . .barely. . .stand. ~

8-ball stood up without realizing it. Melanie said something but 8-ball didn't hear it. She shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I have to. . .I'm sorry." And without saying anything to anyone else, 8-ball walked quickly out of the room. She walked down the corridor to the turbolift and tried not to picture Azra's face, her tears as she was crying, as she was so afraid that she was about to die

~I can't. I can't. I'm so scared.~

~I'm so scared. I don't want to die.~

Those had been her last words. And she had died anyway, uncomforted, terrified, and in 8-ball's arms.

8-ball made herself keep moving, walk out of the turbolift and to her quarters. Once the doors slid behind her, she let herself slide to the ground and pressed the back of her hand against her mouth.

~I'm so scared. I don't want to die~

But she had and 8-ball couldn't pretend that things were okay, that she could move on.

"Diverted Again"

Captain Daren M'Kantu, Commanding Officer
Commander Cass Henderson, Executive Officer/SFI Handler

with... Rear Admiral Robert E. L. Price, Starfleet Command
Lt. Commander Ekoma Janx, Head Tactical Analyst/STC Liaison
Doctor Nicholas Jericho, Project Director, Mirusa VI

****

Captain's Ready Room,
Deck 1,
USS Galaxy

Cass sat down across from Captain M'Kantu, as he did at least a half dozen times a day. The day of leave at Starbase 212 had proven to be a good decision. At least, that's what self appointed morale officer Aristi Ferguson had reported when they'd had lunch earlier.

He was still pretty much reeling from the rapid breakdown of his date with Rima last night, which had left a shadow over his day. He hadn't made a decision as to how to deal with that particular situation yet, but was leaning toward seeing other women. Again, that pretty young Trill in Tactical came to mind, the liaison from Starfleet Tactical Command.

As Cass began to give his report, he decided that he was grateful they were leaving port. The visit to Deep Space Five would distract him.

"Lieutenant Tarin has reported that all of the crew has reported back onboard," Cass explained. "Lieutenant Commander O'Shea says that all of the minor repairs have been completed. We're set to depart from Starbase 212 in..."

He glanced over at the chrono. "47 minutes."

"Very good. I must say, it'll be a refreshing assignment. The crew could use the time to get back to our main focus of exploration while en route. I predict our Intelligence department will be operating at capacity this close to the Havras participants. Make sure Operations gives them what they need."

"Yes, sir," Cass replied, and was about to continue when he was interupted.

[Captain M'Kantu, there's a message coming in from Starfleet Command,] the voice of a young woman, which Cass recognized as Lt. Commander Janx, doing bridge duty again, came in clearly over the intercom. [It's Admiral Price.]

Daren raised an eyebrow, glancing at his XO out of the corner of one ebony-hued eye.

"Perhaps I've spoken too soon, Number One." Depressing the communication switch on the placid desktop, he leaned forward slightly in reply. "Put the communication through to my Ready Room, 'Commander."

[Aye, sir]

As soon as the communications monitor had moved into place, the image of the grey headed Aussie Admiral appeared, replacing the Starfleet Command insignia. Rear Admiral Robert E. Lee Price, the former CO of the USS Galaxy. Cass fervently hoped that this was a courtesy call, or at best, a recall of 'Ambassador' Streeley.

["G'day mate."] the Admiral said in greeting, giving Darren a nod. ["And Commander Henderson too, I see. How's my ship?"

"It's weathered her maiden tour quite well, Admiral. Resilient, like her crew."

["Glad to hear it."] Price replied. ["I know you're carrying Admiral Proctor to Deep Space Five, but I need you to check something out for me."]

"Admiral Proctor is not one to appreciate side-trips, sir. I have reservations about taking the ship into a potentially hostile situation with her on board."

["I know, I know."] the Admiral said, raising a palm. ["It's a priority assignment though, mate. Olivia will just have to understand. If she gives you too much trouble, tell her to call me. I need you to change course for Mirusa VI."]

A starmap pushed Price's image to the side of the terminal as Mirusa VI was projected along their current route. Not far off from their original destination, but dangerously close...

"That's precariously close to the Hydran border, Admiral."

["Indeed it is."] Price nodded. ["There's an archeological dig going on there, lead by a Doctor Jericho. We've lost contact with them. We don't know why."]

M'Kantu shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Taking the ship into a potentially hostile situation with a hawk Admiral aboard was a battle he did not want to be privy to. Yet, it was exploratory. Something he'd been aching to get back into since he took over the command of the Galaxy. Even now, though, exploration was still a dangerous place. Many Federation members had left during and after the Dominion War, losing faith in the government to protect them. Territory had shrunk, borders collapsed; any new exploratory regions were near known enemies of the Federation. Very few truly neutral places remained.

["Here's the last recording we have."] Price said, and could been seen pressing a key on his terminal.

A moment later, a different face replaced Admiral Price. Doctor Nicholas Jericho was a small man, thin and fragile of frame, with nothing but whisps of hair around his temples. Wire rimmed spectacles perched on the end of a hooked nose. In a blue Federation Science Administration tee shirt, khaki shorts and a khaki work vest, he fit the stereotypical bill for a crotchety old archaeologist.

["Croosha? Are you sure this damn thing's on?"] Jericho immediately began to shift uneasily, clearly uncomfortable with the video recorder. He began muttering to himself. ["I don't know why we need to make these reports so often."]

["Yes, it's on, Doctor Jericho,"] the other voice, Andorian by the accent, said. ["You can begin whenever you're ready."]

["I'm never ready for these damn things,"] the doctor replied, then straightened himself up and delivered his report. ["Begin recording. Archive Date: April 14th 2382. Doctor Nicholas Jericho, Federation Science Administration Project Head, Mirusa Six Exploratory Project, reporting."]

["We're entering our second month at the Mirusa Dig, and I cannot stress enough how thrilled I am about this find. It appears that the complex we've set up camp next to was some sort of religious megatemple, dedicated to many deities. So far, the translation of the runes on most of the ruins has been slow going, but I'm confident that we will achieve a breakthrough soon."]

["Next week, we'll begin to move deeper into the main temple complex, in the hopes of determining what culture these ruins are tied to. As much as the evidence seems to point toward a unique culture, there's something that makes me question that."]

["We would have accomplished that this week, but a decidedly grumpy contingent of Hydran Imperial Guards landed yesterday and demanded to inspect the camp before we begin. I'm not exactly sure why, though now that I think about it, some of the monoliths in this area vaguely resemble Hydrans. Perhaps that's where my feeling is coming from."]

["No matter,"] Jericho shrugged, ["I'll be damned if those three eyed roadblocks will slow me down. For science, I say. In any case, send more research assistants. There are never enough of those. The latest data will be attached. Jericho out."]

The image winked out, and Price's face reappeared.

["So you see, we've got a bit of a situation, Mate,"] Price leaned on his desk. ["Jericho is unaware of what happened in the Havras System last year, and the Council would like it to stay that way. So I want you to take the Galaxy to the Mirusa System and handle this situation delicately. If the Hydrans do believe this to be a religious center of their own race, you'll have a rough time of it. They're a very religious race, from most Intel reports, and you and I both know there's nothing worse than fanatics."]

M'Kantu leaned back, steepling his fingers in thoughtful repose as he so often did when pondering options. "What are the council's expectations should we encounter the Hydrans, Admiral?"

["Do what you need to, mate."] the Admiral replied. ["Take diplomacy as far as you can, but remain firm. The Council may be publicly ignoring Havras, but we're not. Still, this planet is in Federation space, but it's right on the border. Things could go either way here, Darren."

"I cannot stress to you enough the repercussions should we enter an escalation with the Hydrans while Admiral Proctor is on board, sir." He let the concept hang in the air as it settled in to those in conference. Proctor was itching to prove herself in combat and to her superiors. It wouldn't take much for her to pull rank and take command if she chose to.

["'I know."] Lee said consolingly. ["She's quite the eager little dingo. Remind me to tell you about when we had Admiral Pressman aboard one day. I understand, but it's a situation we're stuck with. Galaxy has been at the forefront of our dealings with the Hydrans, such as they are, for awhile now. It's important that it be you there."]

"I understand, Admiral," M'Kantu nodded, acknowledging that truth. As much as he would like a quiet assignment, Allah seemed to have other things in mind for his wayward children on the USS Galaxy.

["Keep me apprised of the situation then, Captain."] Price said. ["Good luck, mates. Starfleet out."]

"Number One," Daren said, turning to focus on Henderson again. "I think you know what to do."

"Aye, sir."

40 minutes later, the USS Galaxy pulled away from Starbase 212 and warped out of the system, bound for the Mirusa VI Archaeological Dig. Of course, Admiral Proctor pitched a fit at being delayed, but when the gravity of the situation was explained to her, she fell silent. One could almost see the wheels turning in the woman's head.

It worried Cass Henderson.

"Claire and the Wolf Part 1"

Lt JG Claire Barnes,
Ensign Running Tree,
Timber

Running Tree had taken Timber to the arboretum. There were two little girls there. One was a sweet, quiet one who seemed content to just doodle on a PADD. The other was yammering away and seemed quite annoyed when he and his wolf entered. Even Timber's friendliest attempts didn't warm her to him. The other one seemed frightened, but Timber, after being rejected by the other, lay in front of the Trill child and looked at her with puppy eyes. Running had encouraged her and she finally petted it causing her to smile at touching the smooth coat and causing Timber to shake his tail. Running Tree had moved on through the inside garden, leaving his wolf with the children.

Unfortunately, they decided to leave, Timber following.

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

Looking up from where she had been working, Claire tapped her combadge, "Main Security, Lt Claire Barnes speaking."

[Umm, hi. This is Crewman Daniels. I just saw a wolf walk by.]

"What?"

[There is a live wolf on the prowl on Deck 6.]

"Oh, thanks. We will go collect it and find out who to return it to. Claire out."

Smiling since she was itching to find something to do, she stood up. Walking over to the duty officer's room, she stuck her head in and told him she was going out to hunt a wolf.

Making her way to the Ship's Armour, she smiled to the officer on duty, "Hi, I have to do some wolf-hunting."

"Wolf hunting?"

"Yeah, we have a live one who got loose."

He laughed as she signed in. Entering the room, she selected a suit of light body armour in case it wanted to bite, making sure that her arms were very protected. Next, she selected one of security tricorders that was optimized for search & rescue ops. She adjusted it and downloaded a wolf profile into it from the security databases's large array of animal profiles.

She didn't think she would need anything else on the part of weaponry other then her trusty phaser pistol, which was already strapped at her hip in a holster since she was on duty for doing patrols. Besides, after that times with James, she realised she should lay off the heavy ammo for awhile.

Leaving the armoury, she signed out and ignored the smart-ass comment from the duty officer before heading into a lounge to check the ship's general database on wolves.

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

Exiting the turbolift on Deck 6, Claire flipped open the tricorder and adjusted it to do a long-range scan after tying it into the internal sensor grid. A white blip appeared at the other end of the deck and Claire headed off down the corridor. Since it wasn't busy at the moment, she headed off in a comfortably- paced run, which for her was quite fast due to her track & field background.

Slowing down when she got closer, Claire pulled her phaser. From what she knew of animals, they normally became aggressive when cornered or injured, so she set it to heavy stun. The wolf would not be harmed by that other then sleeping for a long time, but she still was only going to use it as a last resort.

She headed into a lounge and replicated a slab of juicy meat. She was about to go when she head back & made a leash too just in case it had a collar. She knew that a muzzle would be good too, but well, if it didn't know her, she doubted it would be cool with that sort of thing.

Once it was in a brig cell until it could be collected, she was going to try and keep it calm.

Leaving the lounge, she headed down further and noted the white blip was in the corridor & moving. It stopped and Claire realised it must have smelled something, hearing a bark from up ahead.

Although ships were heavily controlled environmentally and thus didn't have wind, she knew it would have a good nose and pick up the smell of raw meat.

Timber smelled something famailar. Something he would very much like to have.

"Here, boy. Nice thick juicy raw steak for you."

She waved it a bit in the air in the hopes that might help. Walking forwards very slowly, she held her arms in what she hoped it would see as a non-threatening manner. A grey and silverish healthy-looking wolf that she thought was about medium size came around the corner and stopped, looking at her. It was sniffing the air, and she thought it might be hungry but wasn't totally sure. Dogs liked meat, so she guessed wolves did too.

He immediately saw the slap of meat. His mouth watered as he panted and wagged his tail, walking slowly to the meat, not really caring who or what was carrying it.

Claire decided that maybe, it would help if she didn't look so tall to it, so very slowly, she bent down and knelt on the ground, speaking softly, "Come closer, I won't hurt you. You can have this steak."

As it cautiously moved forwards, she noted that its tail was wagging and not rigid, which was a good sign for a dog but not sure for wolves once again.

It came quite close and she surmised it might be male. The wolf sniffed at the meat and let out a soft bark.

Timber stopped, perked his ears and smelled something else. Someone else. Not his master. He backed a few steps back trying to fight the meat smell long enough to determine this person's intentions.

"Yeah, its yours if you want it."

She slowly bent down and put it on the carpeted deck before going back to her kneeling position.

Timber looked at her wearily, but she had left the meat, so he moved forwards and licked the meat before taking a bite.

Claire smiled and just watched as it ate. Every few moments, it stopped to check on her but since she wasn't moving or doing anything, it obviously felt like it was okay for the moment.

She knew that wolves were quite a lot more skittish and instinctual then domesticated dogs.

When it finished, it sat down on its haunches as it looked at her. She smiled, tilting her head as she looked for a collar or tag. She spotted one, which she was glad of.

Leaning down, she put the phaser down before slowly holding out her hands, "See, nothing."

He tilted his head. She wasn't afraid, but acted cautious.

Holding out the back of her hand towards it, she waited and it moved forwards, sniffing. When it felt a bit more comforable, she felt its toungue flick out and lick her hand. It was just like a dog's tounge and she giggled a little as it tickled.

Timber panted again, this time from finding a new friend. He wagged his tail and reached up to lick her face.

Once it was comfortable with her, she held out the leash and let it smell it.

Timber knew what this thing was. He lowered his tail. That thing is what kept him from going where he wanted. Still yet, he let Claire attach the leash to his collar before she wrapped the leash around her arm with her hand in the end circle so it couldn't run.

Smiling, she stood and tapped her combadge, "Claire Barnes to Security, I have got the wolf and it is on a leash now. Please inform Ensign Running Tree to come and collect it from the Security office ASAP. Claire out."

{{OOC: Takes place directly after "Everybody's favorite time part 2"}}

"Truce?"

Lieutenant J.G. Naranda Sol Roswell
Engineer

Lieutenant J.G. Saul Bental
Intelligence Officer

The moment the door swished close, Saul began to pace forward, fast. He stopped after a few meters, glancing behind his shoulder toward Nara.

"I think we got out cheap."

She was following slowly after Saul, thinking he didn't want to hear her apology or her thanks, but she stopped when he spoke. "I believe so." Her voice was soft and meek, a far cry from the last time she spoke to him.

"I don't regret helping you for a moment, Nara, but the next time they hire an assassin to kill you - get someone else involved.", Saul said bitterly. He knew this could be much worse, and that the punishment was incredibly cheap. And that was exactly the problem. Even this light punishment – a formal reprimand - would slow down his advancment. He had bigger plans for his career, and this could stall them for years.

He began striding again.

Nara laughed. He was blaming HER? "How dare you! It wasn't my idea to involve you. I didn't ask you to DO anything." She caught up to him and some anger resurfaced, "There's more to this than you're telling me. I won't pester you for more information, but don't make it sound like you were forced to be involved. If you recall, YOU called me to YOUR office and told me to keep quiet. I was following YOUR direction." She softened her tone again, "Though, it's my fault too." She sped up and stood in front of him, "Would you let me talk to without walking?"

Saul stopped pacing, and was now standing very close to her. Despite the physical proximity, he looked more distant than ever.

She took a breath and looked him in the eye "Look, for whatever you're upset about, I'm sorry. I couldn't flat out lie. I tried to avoid any hints as long as I could. It was only because it would effect more than this. Believe it or not, Saul, I have other issues in my life and as much as I wanted to protect you..." She shook her head, "I'll explain all that later. I am sorry for being so bitter with you. You saved my life. How you handled it beside the point, and for that I thank you. If I didn't have these other things in the way, I would have taken the full blow."

She looked confused, "But I'm really not sure how they connected you with it." She sighed and lowered her head shaking it, "Mei and Emma were with me when you called me to your office. One of them must had told O'Shea where I was. I got in trouble for doing that too." Nara sighed, "That woman does NOT like me."

"She doesn't like me either, apparently. I don't think they have a strong evidence about our connection either, dear Commanders Henderson and Dallas. I didn't tell them exactly what we did on the planet. If I thought I had any chance, I would've petitioned for punishment reduction, because there are no hard evidence against me. Alas."

She shrugged, "They're only upset because we didn't tell anyone. I don't really plan on having a similar situation happen again, so I'm very willing to do the class and then just forget about it." She raised an eyebrow, "Well, as far as my career here, that is." She knew there was some Sakarian political mess to it, but she would deal with that later. She put a hand on his arm, "You're a good officer, and in a few years, that reprimand is going to pale in comparison to the good points on your record." She was trying to cheer him up, hoping he was actually just mad at the situation and just happened to take it out on her.

"Time will tell.", was Saul's dry response.

She let her hand drop and looked down frowning, "There are other things I have been needing to tell you, but now is obviously not a good time." She let out a nervous laugh, "I'm beginning to wonder if there ever will be a good time. Or if it's just too late." She smiled gently at him, "At least friends? Maybe if we study that protocol stuff together, it won't be nearly as boring."

She was trying very hard to make nice. Interesting thing was, it didn't feel like trying.

"You are right, Nara. Now is not a good time," Saul said simply.

She looked up and nodded, "Just tell me we're going to be alright. I don't think I'd like the idea of being on the same ship and yet feel as if there's a distance as wide as this galaxy between us."

Saul couldn't help but smile at the pun, thinly. "Let me first digest the reprimand, Nara. I think everyone should keep a safe distance from me until I get over it. Ten hours of sleep would make a fair start."

Nara sighed. Men and their space. She nodded, "I hope then..." She smiled, "I don't like people telling me it's going to be ok when I wanna sulk." She stepped back, "Get some sleep and I'll see you later."

Saul shook his head. It wasn't clear if he did so in acknowledgment or some form of self-conviction. "Very well, princess, I'm sure everything will look better tomorrow."

Nara gave him a small smile. The nickname was the answer she was needing. Whether he knew it now or not, the use of the nickname meant, for her anyway, that everything really would be ok. She nodded and turned walking down the corridor glancing once behind her only to see he'd already turned a corner. She stopped, let out a sigh and shook her own head, leaning against the wall.

Sometimes you just had to stop in the middle of nowhere and wonder how in the universe you got where you were and when the heck did things get so frelling complicated.

"Secrets For Protection"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineer

Saia & Samantha

***Arboretum***

"Add more stones to the shore." Samantha demanded, but not in her most demanding voice. Saia was pretty cooperative for the most part as moved the stylus on the PADD doing as told by Samantha.

***Enginneering***

"That's awefully close to the Hydran border isn't it?" came the worried question.

"Uh huh," came the unsympathic reply.

Nara looked over. Mei was of course a little worried. Emma, of course, didn't seem to care. Nara put a hand on Mei's shoulder. "I doubt we'll get in battle or anything." She heard a little snort come from Emma. If she weren't on duty, she would had taken the little pen-like scanning tool and threw at Emma's head. Instead, she ignored her, and yet she felt herself worrying too. What if they did end up fighting?

***Later; Arboretum, after Nara's shift***

"If I put more trees, it'll crowd the whole image!" Saia spoke firmly.

"But." Sam was interrupted of her tirade as she heard the swoosh of the door and she changed the subject, keeping her tone, "Always interrupted! I swear, we have GOT to reserve a conference room!"

"They don't reserve conference rooms to children."

Saia stood seeing Nara, "It's early."

Sam stood too, "We just got the picture for the 5th chapter going! She can't go yet."

Nara raised an eyebrow smirking, "I don't believe it's you who gets to decide that."

Sam shrugged, "Saia wants to stay."

Before Saia could say anything, Nara retorted, "Not hers either."

Sam shot back, "All you adults do is stifle our imagination and intelligence! No wonder the Federation is in the state it's in!"

Saia rolled her eyes and sat back down to draw.

Nara laughed, "Why, you." Nara shook her head not willing to be drawn into this, "Do what you want, Sam, but Saia's coming with me."

Sam looked at Saia, "Are you going to let her treat you like this?"

Saia looked confused and looked between the two, "She's not doing anything bad to me."

Sam shook her head. This girl will never understand! "Fine. Go be brainwashed!"

Saia walked over to Nara and as they left they heard Sam go into a little rant.

"You really like playing with her?" Nara asked as they walked.

"We're not playing. We're working on a book," Saia answered matter-of-factly.

"Of course." After a few moments, Nara changed the subject, "I came early because I just found out we're not going straight to Deep Space 5. We're going to stop by a planet to check out something first. I'm not sure what's going to happen once we get to this planet."

"Orbit?" Saia wondered why Nara didn't know that. Anyone knew that when a starship went to a planet, they normally orbited it.

Nara smiled and nodded, "That, but." She sighed knowing she couldn't tell Saia about the war or anything. "It's on the Hydran border and we're not sure how the Hydrans will react to us." She knew Saia wouldn't understand, so she tried something else, "Besides, I hadn't seen much of you since you've been playing.I mean working on that book. I found some holodeck time and I want to show you this horseback riding program."

***Later, in their quarters***

"My legs hurt." Saia pouted.

Nara looked over from the computer screen. The first lesson from her required study had come in and though it looked famailar, she was shocked and shamed that there was some stuff she had forgotten. Though, most of it was in situations she had yet to be in. "It takes awhile to get use to. I'll get a horse with a narrower back for you next time."

After a few moments, Saia spoke again out of the blue, "Why are you worried about the border?"

Nara blinked, realizing she hadn't in awhile. She had been reading about what to do in the case a Q transported you to a pre-warp world. It was a far-fetched situation, but an interesting example to read, non-the-less. "I told you it's dangerous in space." After a moment and Saia's look, she added, "And I guess I failed to tell you that there will be times I cannot tell you what's happening."

"Why do adults have so many secrets?"

Nara shrugged, turning the chair all the way around, "We think it's a way of protecting others." She thought briefly of Saul and pushed that away. She was getting tired of being paranoid about him.

"Sam says knowledge is power."

Nara sighed, "She would." Getting off the chair, Nara sat beside Saia on the couch, "Just do me a favor ok?" After Saia nodded, she continued, "Don't go to the arboretum after school anymore. I want you with an adult in someone's quarters. You can either come here if Bran's home or to Sam's if someone is there." Nara then remembered Miramon's offer, "And I have a friend who offered to watch you. I'll introduce you to him."

Saia sighed, "Sam won't like it."

Nara smiled, "She'll get over it. It's just till we get done and move on to DS5 again."

"Inevitable Conversations"

Lieutenant J.G. Cora Dobryin
Chief Intelligence Officer

Lieuteannt J.G. Saul Bental
Intelligence Officer / Lily Squad leader

When Cora entered the Intelligence CIC, first thing in the morning, she found Saul Bental waiting for her. The Intelligence officer was sittin on a table near the entrance, reading intensly some PADD. She figured immediatly that he was there for her, because he made it a habit to focus most of his working hours on the afternoon, and so did the rest of the Lily squad members. Quieter hours, better concentration, he said.

"Good morning, Cora."

"Morning. I don't usually see you in here at this hour unless it's a major crisis," Cora paused looking directly at the other Intelligence officer. "What's on you mind."

"I wanted to speak with you.", Saul placed the PADD on the table and shut it down. "It doesn't take a Betazed to realize you're angry with me since I returned from Trill, and I don't want it to remain that way."

Cora pondered his opening statement momentarily, "Do you have any clue why I'm upset, appalled... You name the emotion and it probably fits my mood on some level." With her free hand Cora motioned towards her office. For this they needed privacy. Currently the Intelligence CIC was emtpy but that wouldn't last long. "We'll continue this discussion in my office."

Saul gestured, offering her to lead the way.

In the solitude of Dobryin's office she took a seat at her desk, "I'm not oblivious to what goes on around me. Doesn't matter whether its within this department or outside of it."

Saul nodded. "It's our job not to be oblivious to anything. I can only assume you're referring to the incident with Lieutenant Roswell from engineering."

"Incident," Cora was surprised he wanted to downplay the whole thing, "That's exactly what I'm referring to. Care to give me an explaination? I'll be honest when I say it looks bad...really bad. As I said before you can't get anything past me. I know the game here. Sometimes we're required to do things that aren't pleasant but this one...." It didn't take much to notice Dobryin was fuming.

Saul's hands held each other behind his back. He had respect toward Cora, but he was not going to fold in front of her. Yes, she was his direct superior, the one he had to answer to first and formost. But he was not going to let himself be impaled on the spear of her anger.

"Hoping I'm not stepping out of line saying this, ma'am... but I think that both Henderson - and you, appearently - have the wrong outlook on my part of the events. If you could please tell me what you THINK that happened, I could shed some light on it, and I'm sure it won't look so bad and infuriating."

"Normally its my policy to let my officers explain themselves first. But my interpretation is that you were attemtping to assasintate a Starfleet Officer or at least hired for that purpose. Now how can something like that be misinterpreted?" Cora knew those were very strong accustaions but she didn't believe in sugar coating anything.

"EXCUSE ME?!", Saul couldn't stop himself. "Are you SERIOUS?!"

"You don't see me laughing. Of course I'm serious. You actions lately certainly support a man who's very nervous about something very critical. Right now you just got lucky but this game won't last forever." Cora kept a close eye on him as she spoke. Body language and other factors were good ways to tell if he was hiding something.

"I was NOT hired to assasinate a fellow Starfleet officer. I was helping a fellow Starfleet officer to save herself from a probable assassin by giving her information about the iminent assassination and advising her to fake her death. I saved her life, Cora. Even though the way might be questionable, I think it was the best route I could choose at the time."

Her gaze never waivered from Saul's as she placed two clearly non-Starfleet data disks on the table along with a recording device. "Then care to explain the footage I saw on these. No they aren't faked and you are the prominate figure. Activity that's clearly non regulation and supports my theory. This is your last chance to talk to me from here its onto Commander Henderson and yes he's knows about the recordings. Anyone who thinks I sit safely behind the walls of Starfleet to do my job is sadly mistaken."

"What do these recording contain?", Saul asked.

"Unathorized activities by you. You're not very forcoming with any solid evidence to show you were actually doing as you said earlier. Sources can be faulty and I hope that's the case but you're distancing yourself from the rest of the us and quick to see others mistakes but not admit your own which make me think you're covering something for a reason. If I'm wrong then I'll appologize but if I fail to do my duty there's no way to fix that." Cora responded.

"I see.", Saul said simply. He wasn't sure what kind of aliby did she want him to provide, but so no reason to counter her.

Cora then continued, "And you saw no need to inform me of what you knew concerning another member of this crew. That in itself is inexcusable. So far you haven't revealed how you obtained your information yet you say you were there to help. I should have know about this if that's the case. Chief Intelligence Officers should not walk around in a complete void on their own ships, especially when it involves a direct link to the immediate crew."

"I agree completely on that point, ma'am.", Saul replied, somewhat calmer, "I had the same conversation with Commander Henderson himself, and for a good reason. I'm not sure what he told you so I'll repeat what was said. I obtained the information by sheer luck from a Humint resource I... contacted... before arriving to the Galaxy. Mainly because of the damage that can be caused if the source's identity is revealed, I decided to ask Nara not to take the matter to a superior officer but to solve it herself."

Saul sighed. "That's the only thing I think I deserve a reprimand for, not involving you, the Commander or the Captain. But at the time, it looked like the best alternative, given all reasons. In my entire short career, I never found myself in a situation where I need to hide job-relevant information from superior officers, and from your point of view I agree that it is unexcusable. But there are three things which I think should be made clear, in order to move on."

He opened his left palm, folding the thumb and the index finger. "ONE, I am a very loyal Starfleet officer. Always was, always will be. I made that choice by taking the Academy tests, and I know fully well what is the meaning of wearing these uniform. Since you are my direct superior, that means you have my complete loyalty. TWO, I don't deny participating in activities other than my Starfleet service. I study - with authorization - for a Masters Degree, and I toy with trades and stock shares. I assume that's what's recorded on the tapes, but it's all legitimate, and the only reason I don't make it public is because I think an officer's first and foremost duty is... his duty. Third, as I said, I never had any intentions of murdering another Starfleet officer, and it is important to me that you as my superior officer will believe me and won't consider me a felon who escaped the long fingers of the Federal law."

Cora was still upset but not as angry as before, "You didn't trust your superiors to know the value of keeping the cover of a Humint resource intact. Its our job to be able to handle that kind of thing while protecting those that need protecting. Fail in that and I failed my commitments as a Starfleet officer. I'm very dissappointed you didn't trust me or Commander Henderson or the Captain to help and the fact you're only coming to me now after all is said in done. No it wouldn't change my upholding the Commander's recommendations for your reprimand I'd still uphold them but there is a void within this department that has to be fixed."

"None of us are perfect," Cora paused for a moment, "Your other activities if you had divulged those to me I simply would have given you the lecture you just gave me. Instead you hid them as if they were illegal or questionable in some manner. It all comes down to faith and trust. No man is an island here and that includes you. Things worked out ok but remember that for next time." Once again Dobryin paused, "If theres nothing else then I'll expect the latest update on your current activities for Lili squad at the end of your current shift."

A sigh of relief was out of the question, but Saul did allow a thin smile to make its way to the surface. The worst was over.

"Of course. As always."

Cora simply nodded as she returned to the other matter of business for most on her mind this morning.

"Breaking News"

Vera Donahue, reporting for the Federation News Network

"Good afternoon, sentients of the Federation." the rather tackily-dressed reporter said as the holocams started running. "This is Breaking News. Your usual host, Emmett Bregman won't be joining us today. I'm Vera Donahue, and I'm filling in."

Of course, Donahue had been in disgrace in the journalistic community for quite some time, ever since she'd run afoul of a particular group of Bajorans on Hedon a few years back. Breaking this story was her return to grace, as it were. Bregman hadn't been pleased, but he hadn't had any choice. It was her story, after all.

And she'd sold her soul to get it.

"We have today, one of the most shocking stories to ever be uncovered by the Federation News Service. According to information we've received from a source inside Starfleet, the government of the United Federation of Planets has been lying to us all. We have some logs from the Starship USS Arizona that we would like to show."

The picture faded away a moment, to be replaced by a recording from an external viewer of a starship. Donahue's voice could still be heard.

On the screen, the USS Miranda and USS Galaxy, both in separated modes, could be seen fighting a large number of vessels, and taking heavy damage.

"What you are seeing is images of the Starships Galaxy and Miranda, slightly over ten months ago. FNN has been able to determine that the two starships, under the commands of Captains Elaithin Jii of Bajor and Daren M'Kantu of Earth, were dispatched to the Breen homeworld for diplomatic talks."

On the screen, other Federation starships began to move into view as several ships assumed defensive positions around Miranda and Galaxy. The camera zoomed in as the Miranda's tertiary hull was destroyed, and panned to the left as a pair of starships - Prometheus and Nebula Class, respectively - extracted their vengeance on the Hydran ship responsible. The reporter continued her report.

"Captain Elaithin's diplomatic party was taken prisoner by the Breen, even as the two ships were ambushed in orbit by vessels belonging to the T'Kith'Kin Hive and Hydran Sovereignty. The Breen then used this opportunity to hold the diplomatic party hostage, claiming to be threatened by the other two powers."

After showing some rather spectacular footage of a Galaxy-Class starship colliding with a T'Kith'Kin Command Carrier, the camera reverted back to Donahue.

"This turns out to have been a hoax perpetrated by the former Breen General, Thot Gor, who assumed power during this incident. Now a dictator, "Aval" Gor is actually in alliance with the powers of the T'Kith'Kin and Hydrans."

"The footage you saw previously was taken in the Havras at the time of this incident. It is of the 12th Fleet forcibly extricating the starships Miranda and Galaxy from where they were massively outnumbered."

"The Federation Council chose to hide this incident from he public at large, even though no less than twenty-nine Federation starships were destroyed, claiming a death toll of more than sixteen thousand. To put some more perspective on this, that is five thousand more people than were killed at the disastrous Battle of Wolf 359 by the Borg."

"This Reporter was astonished to discover that not only are there no less that three significant galactic powers pursuing hostilities against the Federation - we have been able to confirm reports of a significant number of border engagements with both the Breen and the T'Kith'Kin - but that the Federation Council has chosen to hide this information from the public for nearly a year, while Starfleet has been explicitly ordered not to increase it's defensive posture!"

"We will be running a full special broadcast once all the data in our possession is analyzed. Stay tune for further coverage of this breaking story throughout the day, as we await responses from the President's Office, the Federation Council, and Starfleet Command."

"Up next, we have Dana Hennessy with a report on the political implications of these relevations, specifically on what we can expect from our Klingon and Romulan allies now that these facts have been uncovered. Stay tuned to FNN."

"Breaking News" Vera Donahue, reporting for the Federation News Network

"Good afternoon, sentients of the Federation." the rather tackily-dressed reporter said as the holocams started running. "This is Breaking News. Your usual host, Emmett Bregman won't be joining us today. I'm Vera Donahue, and I'm filling in."

Of course, Donahue had been in disgrace in the journalistic community for quite some time, ever since she'd run afoul of a particular group of Bajorans on Hedon a few years back. Breaking this story was her return to grace, as it were. Bregman hadn't been pleased, but he hadn't had any choice. It was her story, after all.

And she'd sold her soul to get it.

"We have today, one of the most shocking stories to ever be uncovered by the Federation News Service. According to information we've received from a source inside Starfleet, the government of the United Federation of Planets has been lying to us all. We have some logs from the Starship USS Arizona that we would like to show."

The picture faded away a moment, to be replaced by a recording from an external viewer of a starship. Donahue's voice could still be heard.

On the screen, the USS Miranda and USS Galaxy, both in separated modes, could be seen fighting a large number of vessels, and taking heavy damage.

"What you are seeing is images of the Starships Galaxy and Miranda, slightly over ten months ago. FNN has been able to determine that the two starships, under the commands of Captains Elaithin Jii of Bajor and Daren M'Kantu of Earth, were dispatched to the Breen homeworld for diplomatic talks."

On the screen, other Federation starships began to move into view as several ships assumed defensive positions around Miranda and Galaxy. The camera zoomed in as the Miranda's tertiary hull was destroyed, and panned to the left as a pair of starships - Prometheus and Nebula Class, respectively - extracted their vengeance on the Hydran ship responsible. The reporter continued her report.

"Captain Elaithin's diplomatic party was taken prisoner by the Breen, even as the two ships were ambushed in orbit by vessels belonging to the T'Kith'Kin Hive and Hydran Sovereignty. The Breen then used this opportunity to hold the diplomatic party hostage, claiming to be threatened by the other two powers."

After showing some rather spectacular footage of a Galaxy-Class starship colliding with a T'Kith'Kin Command Carrier, the camera reverted back to Donahue.

"This turns out to have been a hoax perpetrated by the former Breen General, Thot Gor, who assumed power during this incident. Now a dictator, "Aval" Gor is actually in alliance with the powers of the T'Kith'Kin and Hydrans."

"The footage you saw previously was taken in the Havras at the time of this incident. It is of the 12th Fleet forcibly extricating the starships Miranda and Galaxy from where they were massively outnumbered."

"The Federation Council chose to hide this incident from he public at large, even though no less than twenty-nine Federation starships were destroyed, claiming a death toll of more than sixteen thousand. To put some more perspective on this, that is five thousand more people than were killed at the disastrous Battle of Wolf 359 by the Borg."

"This Reporter was astonished to discover that not only are there no less that three significant galactic powers pursuing hostilities against the Federation - we have been able to confirm reports of a significant number of border engagements with both the Breen and the T'Kith'Kin - but that the Federation Council has chosen to hide this information from the public for nearly a year, while Starfleet has been explicitly ordered not to increase it's defensive posture!"

"We will be running a full special broadcast once all the data in our possession is analyzed. Stay tune for further coverage of this breaking story throughout the day, as we await responses from the President's Office, the Federation Council, and Starfleet Command."

"Up next, we have Dana Hennessy with a report on the political implications of these relevations, specifically on what we can expect from our Klingon and Romulan allies now that these facts have been uncovered. Stay tuned to FNN."

"Marines Don't Feel Headaches; But They DO Get Drunk!"

Nara & Bran

*** Ten Forward ***

Nara wandered into 10-4ward. As usual.

She saw a familiar person, got her drink and walked over to her room mate, set the drink down and sat a moment. Then she spurted out, "Where the heck were you the other night?" She didn't sound angry. Nor did she smile. Though, if one listened closely, you could hear the attempt at repressing a smile.

Branwen groaned. "Please don't shout. I still have a hangover. There was this party, and I guess I drank too much, I passed out on the floor. My back hurts."

Nara couldn't help but smirk. She occasionally drank herself; though, rarely got drunk enough for a hangover. She watched Branwen, who in so many ways was naïve, yet in other ways really was a marine. "Is this something you commonly do or have you been hanging around a bad crowd." Nara was teasing her now, but in a lower voice. She wanted to tease, not be cruel.

"It was just some girls, not even Marines. And we were playing some silly games. I don't even know the names. And then everything went black." She held her head in her hands. "I have been pretending to be fine the whole morning."

The grin grew and she shook her head, "What girls would let you do that?"

"Nice girls. 8-ball, Indigo and Ella. We were just having a girls night." Bran groaned.

Nara shook her head. "I don't know Indigo, but..." Nara thought a moment almost laughing, "I can imagine 8-ball being involved. Ella on the other hand...I only see her at work. She seems really um...not peppy." Nara smiled, "Was it worth it?"

Unintelligible groaning followed.

Nara walked away and came back a few moments later with a cup and set it before Bran. "For humans, coffee sometimes helps a hangover."

"Thanks. I thought it would get better during the day but my headache is only getting worse. You know 8-ball and Ella then? Bad thing is that Ella is also my patient. How is she ever going to take me serious now."

Nara tilted her head thinking and looked more serious, "I'm not a counselor. Don't wish to be. My mom is, however, and from just thinking off the top of my head, maybe being taken seriously isn't how to best help some patients. Maybe seeing you just as a person will help her open more. It's easier for me to talk to a friend than someone I take seriously." Nara smiled again. She shrugged, "It may had done more good than bad."

"Your mother is... cool. I try so hard to look serious you know. Most people say I look 16 or something. And I do stupid things like a 16 year old I guess." Another groan as she moved her head too fast.

Nara smiled, "Don't try so hard to prove yourself." Nara chuckled, "Like I should be talking."

"Yeah. I will shut up now. I really want to take the afternoon off, only Marines don't do that." She said in a lower voice. "Marines don't feel headaches."

Nara rolled her eyes, "I know you didn't intend to, but you did do this to yourself. Otherwise, I'd advise taking the day off." She let out another laugh, "Next time you have a girl's night with the likes of 8-ball, make sure you have the whole next day free to recover."

"Next time I will. This time I thought we were only going to watch movies."

Nara laughed again, "Maybe I should had warned you about 8-ball. She's a little on the wild side. I know this from only meeting her for about five minutes."

"I had only met her once before. I needed some advice about somebody. Work can't tell you more about it."

Nara looked at her confused, "Well..." No, she wasn't quite sure what she was saying, "Huh? You're not making sense, Bran."

"Sorry, I should shut up now." Branwen said still holding her head.

Nara patted Bran's arm, "It's ok. Just drink some coffee. It should help."

"Thanks. And next time I am taking you along to make sure this doesn't happen again."

Nara laughed wondering if she would be able to stop it or if she would be dragged right along. "Alright."

"Making Arrangements"

Lieutenant JG Naranda Roswell,
Engineering Officer

Ensign Miramon Terrik,
Flight Control Officer

Saia (APC, Trill female)

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

Nara and Saia waited outside the door after pressing the chime. Nara suddenly wondered if Saul and Miramon ever hung out in their quarters. She found a strange conflict of desires. Part of her hoped Saul wasn't there, and part of her wished he were. She growled inwardly to push it all aside.

This was about Saia and Miramon meeting and seeing if they were ok hanging out together when Nara was on duty. Sam couldn't play much after school anymore anyway, having her time taken by being a protoge of her marine roommate.

"Come in."

Miramon himself hadn't been in long. He'd recently got back from having dinner in Ten Forward, since he'd swapped his shift with Ensign Wilat since he had a Bajoran Springball match scheduled as part of the in-ship tournament they were running now that they had departed from Trill. After all, officers though they were, they needed to relax sometimes. Besides, he'd picked up a new Springball racket after his last one had broken as a result of close impact between the ball and the wall. He'd been lucky to walk away from that one with just a bruised hand.

As it was, he'd just sat down with a hot cup of Jumja tea, one of his favourite drinks, aside from that wonderful Iced Tea that humans drank. Although, that said, he'd never quite considered trying to make Iced Jumja tea, but it was certainly something he'd probably get around to trying. He'd done that with some of his supply of fresh Perelian Ginger Tea, but he only occasionally drank that anyway. Typical Bajoran tastes, he supposed. His sister had always liked it, anyway.

Nara stepped in with Saia behind her. "Hi, there." She simply stated.

Miramon smiled as Nara walked in. "Hello, Naranda. Would you like some tea? It's freshly made." He indicated the small blue teapot sitting on a tray in the middle of the glass coffee table in front of him. He'd picked up that particular piece on Earth while at the Academy, and for some reason, it had still managed to remain intact after everything the ship had been through in the meantime.

Nara shrugged, "I could try some. I came to introduce you to Saia." She looked at Saia, "This is my friend, Miramon Terrik."

As Nara spoke, Miramon noticed the presence of the younger of the two that had entered. He'd failed to spot her at first, since he was too busy focusing on Nara, and the girl hadn't exactly been forward about walking into his quarters. He smiled and stood up, heading over to the small kitchen area in the room, removing two cups from one of the cupboards. The advantage of living in shared quarters without a room-mate was that you got twice the living space.

"Make yourselves at home. No need for you to stand on ceremony. Did you want some tea, Saia? There's plenty left, and I can easily make up some more if you like it."

Saia looked at Nara. Nara shrugged, "Wouldn't hurt to try it."

Saia nodded and smiled slightly, "Ok. Thank you."

Nara sat on a chair and Saia sat on the one nearest.

Miramon quickly brought the two cups round to the table, then sat down on the sofa and poured two cups of steaming aromatic tea for the two visitors.

"Here you go. So, what brings you here? Just bringing Saia in to meet me, huh?"

Nara smiled and glanced at Saia to make sure she didn't sip before it had cooled. Of course she had common sense, and Nara knew it. It didn't stop her from making sure, though. After seeing Saia sniff the liquid and hold it, she looked at Miramon smiling, "That and to ask a favor."

The Bajoran wasn't all that surprised, and nodded, taking a sip of his Jumja tea as he did so, savouring the flavour of the tea briefly, before smiling.

"Well, name it and consider it done."

"Beware what you agree to before you know the deal." Nara winked. "Considering what we're headed into, I'd feel better if Saia was with an adult when I'm on duty." Nara tilted her head and sighed, "What shift are you on?"

"Beta Shift."

Nara nodded and asked, "Would you mind if she hung out with you if Bran's not home or no one is at the Widdlestein's while I'm on duty?"

Saia decided at the moment to take a sip of the tea. Her face scrunched at first, but she took another sip and it was growing on her. Not something she would pick out of choices, but it was interesting. It tasted like flowers smelled, which was very different.

Miramon shrugged and smiled at the two of them. "Well, I did say I'd be alright with keeping an eye on the kid if you wanted a hand. After all, you're not exactly used to children, are you? How you cope, I'm not sure, but I guess I'll end up finding out myself, huh?"

Nara smiled, "I'd be defensive, except I agree." Nara looked at Saia, "She's quite behaved."

Saia scowled, "She also gets tired of being talking about as if she's not here."

Nara raised an eyebrow at Miramon, "For the most part." She looked back at Saia, "Sorry. So he seems ok with it. How about you?"

Saia looked at him a moment and then at his quarters. It seemed bland by her standards, which in her mind was any standard. There were a few things here and there she could draw while there. She shrugged.

Nara looked at Miramon again, "Um, do you know Samantha Widdlestein?"

Miramon shook his head. "I've not have the pleasure. Or is it displeasure?"

Nara kept her mouth shut and Saia looked at Miramon strangely, not getting the joke.

"She and Saia are working on a book."

"Oh, really? Well, that's good. Productive, I suppose. I'm sure I can keep her amused while she's here, though. It's not as though we're restricted to my quarters or anything. But everything'll be done under practical and safe conditions," he finished, not particularly liking the sudden look that came over Nara's face. Clearly she was quite protective of the kid, that much was certain.

She nodded, "I trust you. More than most men anyway."

Miramon chuckled at that. "Only because I'm older than most men you know, single and Bajoran."

Nara's face turned serious, "Maybe." Her mind wasn't focusing why she mostly trusted him, but why she partly didn't. "Deep down, I don't think..." Nara remembered Saia sitting near sipping at the tea. She smiled, "That's for another time. Thanks Miramon."

"You're more then welcome, Nara." The Bajoran took a last sip of his tea, then put the cup down and poured another from the little teapot he had sitting on the table. Immediately the air was refreshed with more of the aromatic smell of the herbal tea.

Saia had taken to staring at Miramon, specifically the side of his face where he wore the earcuff. Nara noticed this and touched Saia's hand, "It's not nice to stare."

Saia sighed impatiently, "I'm studying the thing he has on his ear. I want to draw it when we get home."

Nara smiled, realizing she had for once called their quarters home, "Well, either way, it looks like staring."

Saia thought a moment and nodded. She looked at Miramon, "I'm sorry."

The Bajoran smiled patiently at both Saia and Nara, then stood up and walked over to a small box sitting on a shelf next to a large stack of books. He opened it and withdrew something metallic object from within it, closing it and then turning a small key at the front of it to lock it. He turned back to the other two and headed towards Saia and stopped just beside her and squatted down so he was more level with her height. He reached out with his hand and gave her the object he was holding in his hand.

"Most Bajorans have more than one earcuff. The one I wear now is my familial cuff, the one we wear from day-to-day, which symbolises our devotion to our beliefs, and to our families. That earcuff is a ceremonial cuff that you wear to the Peldor Festival, one of our most ancient religious rites. We also have one for the Itana ceremony, which happens when you come of age. I think it's equivalent to 14 Earth years, but I could be wrong. It's been a very long time since I took mine - almost 20 years now, I believe."

Saia was turning the cuff in her hands, carefully feeling the contours of it. Nara listened as intently as Saia seemed to. Then a memory hit her, "I have one."

"You do?" Miramon looked confused and slightly incredulous for a minute, wondering how it was someone not of Bajor had managed to get a Bajoran Ear Cuff. And even so, why would they want one?

"Saul gave it to me as a gift." She smiled, shaking her head as the oddity of such a gift hit her again, "It was the first time I'd seen him since we returned from Sakaria. Just the fact he was giving me a gift was nice enough, but the gift itself still perplexes me. He nor I are Bajoran." Nara let out a laugh, "Perhaps he meant it for you and got the gifts mixed up." She looked down at the one in Saia's hand and the one on his ear, "But I can't remember what kind. I have it in a box in my room."

"Ah!" The Bajoran smiled and nodded. Now he knew where she'd got it. "Saul probably bought it while we were on Bajor together while the Galaxy was getting its refit and the new saucer section. We were only there for a few days, but since we did stop by a marketplace, that makes a lot of sense. But it wouldn't be for me - Bajorans wear custom-made earrings that have significance to them alone, or to members of their family."

Nara laughed, "You'd think there were other things on the market, though. No matter. It really is the thought that counts." Nara smiled lost in thinking of the odd things about Saul she found quite charming. She spoke softly, almost whispering, "He's really adorable sometimes."

His brow furrowed briefly, then he shrugged nonchalently. "Maybe there were, maybe there weren't. Frankly, you'd probably suit an ear cuff, although some Bajorans might take offense to an off-worlder using them. That said, though, the one he'd have given you wouldn't represent familial or religious beliefs, so who knows?"

The Bajoran smiled briefly, listening to Nara's other words, then chuckled lightly. "You know, I think that's the first time you've ever said that about him. Normally you're either calling him some names I'd rather not see translating, or wishing he'd make up his mind."

Nara shrugged on both comments, "I wouldn't consider wearing it, nor would I ever part with it." She paused thinking about his other comment. "I think the problem was me making up MY mind. I think I have now." She looked at Saia. She was probably listening, but not really caring what was said. Nara simply looked at Miramon, "Though it may be too late."

She sat up as she was leant over looking at the cuff, "Doesn't seem to bother me much, though. Odd that. Though, I believe I've just found there are things more important than obsessing over something. That in itself seems to make telling him not so scary. Just waiting on him to cool down from the reprimand."

Saia looked up grinning, "You got in trouble." It was a statement riddled with a child's nanana chant in the undertones.

Nara sighed and looked at her, "Adults make mistakes too, Saia."

Saia was on the verge of a full-out laugh-fest, "You got in trouble!"

Nara smiled, "Ok, I got in trouble. Can we drop it?"

Saia let out a giggle, "For now." She looked back at the cuff and asked, "So can I draw yours?"

Nara shrugged, "Sure."

"Hmm. She's certainly a persistant child. Typical of the Trill, or so I've found. It'll be interesting, serving as a babysitter as well as a pre-marriage counsellor for you and Saul, not to mention just going about my regular duties aboard ship," Miramon said with a smile.

Nara nearly choked not sure whether to laugh or what, "Marria..." She blinked, "I...We...Bran..."

Nara shook her head collecting her thoughts, "Talking to him will likely do no more releasing information to him. I doubt..." Nara paused seeing Saia's look. It was a cross from confusion and concern. She sighed, looking at Miramon and whispered, "There's too many variables." Hoping he would get the hint. Saia was part of her life now. If Saul wanted to be with her at all before, would he want to be with her now that there's a child now thrown into the deal?

She shook her head, "It'll all work itself out in the end." She racked her brain for something to change the subject with, "We got to see K'Erin while we were at the Starbase. I can't believe how much I've missed him."

"He didn't act like a Klingon."

Nara shot Saia a look, "He acted like a Klingon who serves in Star Fleet. He's simply abiding by the common culture. If he were on a Klingon ship, he could handle himself quite well."

Saia paid no attention to Nara's defensiveness, but looked at the cuff a little more and handed it back to Miramon, "It's pretty."

Miramon looked down at Saia and gently took the cuff back from her, smiling as he did so. "Thank you, Saia." With that, the Bajoran stood and walked back over to his seat, where he unceremoniously dropped himself into it, checking a sigh. His expression was, for a moment, exasperated, but then he shrugged almost imperceptibly and turned back to Nara.

"By the Prophets, you two are going to drive me nuts. You and Saul, that is. There's barely a variable sat between you - I know how both of you feel about each other, but for some reason, neither of you two seem to have made the connection and told one another. I'm not connecting dots for you here, Nara. But make your mind up and I assure you he will too."

Nara looked at him feeling a bit defensive still, "I'll talk to him. He'll know and after that..." Nara shrugged, "He'll either say 'ok' and go on with his life like nothing happened, or..." She raised an eyebrow, "Who knows."

Saia was now kicking her feet into the air. She had started to look at thelittle decoration in Miramon's quarters.

Miramon nodded, although he wasn't necessarily sure he believed her to be quite that straightforward - after all, those two had been tip-toeing around each other for months already. He smiled at Saia and raised his eyebrows in her direction.

"Your kid's getting restless."

Nara nodded, "She gets that way quickly without a drawing PADD." She stood, "But we'd better go. We both have homework." Saia gave a disgusted look at the floor and stood herself.

"Alright. Thanks for stopping by, Nara. And nice to meet you Saia." The Bajoran said, his voice warm but completely calm. "I'm sure I'll see both of you later."

With that, Miramon watched as both of them walked out of the door to his quarters, then he sighed deeply.

"Why do I always sign up for things like this? I was sure we had counsellors on board. I think I'm gonna need one myself if this carries on." he noted in slight exasperation.

"Ceremonial Lights, Part One"

Ensign Miramon Terrik, Flight Control Officer

Mentions: Lieutenant JG Tarin Iniara, 10 NPCs

Crew Quarters, Deck 5

Although with normal life on the Galaxy as it always was, as far as Miramon was concerned, the next few days were going to be extremely important for both him and any other Bajorans onboard, mainly as a result of the date. Tomorrow was the first day of the Ha'Mara, which was a festival that was held on the anniversary of the Emissary, Benjamin Sisko, being declared the Emissary after discovering the Celestial Temple. He knew fully well that many members of the Federation found it amusing that the Bajorans had a festival in honour of one of their Captains, a human no less, but given the influence and actions of the Emissary, it was most difficult for any Bajoran to purposely ignore the man, or for that matter to eschew the festival. On Bajor, there were likely many huge preparations - certainly there would be many millions of candles and lights purchased and arranged for the morrow.

Ha'Mara was, of course, one of the newer festivals in the Bajoran calender, since Sisko had only recently discovered the Celestial Temple - a stable wormhole as far as the rest of the Federation was concerned, but for the Bajoran, the home of the Prophets, although they were no longer considered Gods as a result of the prophecies of Ohalu, but instead Teachers, Prophets in the literal sense of the word, as well as those responsible for the continued existence of the Bajorans, since it was they who replenished the 'Pagh' or life force, according to Bajoran belief. Okay, the Celestial Temple had been found in 2369, so it was well over a full decade ago, but compared to over 9000 years of recorded history, it was certainly a recent development in the Bajoran religion.

Even so, as far as Miramon was concerned, this festival was as important as any of the others, aside from the Itanu ceremony and the Time of Cleansing, the former of which was only ever performed once in an individual's life, while the other was a ritual of exactly a month in length, although not all Bajorans practised it - the cleansing was inevitably a spiritual one, so only those that were faithful to the Bajoran religion would practice it. His mother had already sent him a message, text only (which was fortunate) reminding him to take part, although why she bothered, he wasn't sure. At this distance, he was quite happy to ignore his family as long as possible and participate in anything he wanted to. Besides, his parents were of the illusion that since he hadn't remained on Bajor during the Occupation, he wouldn't have been subject to the religious devoutness of the planet's population, and probably would ignore all the ceremonies altogether. Sufficed to say they'd clearly forgotten the fact that he'd been living aboard a freighter filled with a Bajoran crew at the time. Only family could ignore the small details like that, it seemed.

The Bajoran crossed over to the computer console sat on the desk in his quarters, quickly taking his seat and activating the terminal. It bleeped briefly, then he spoke out aloud.

"Computer, compose a message."

The console chirped in acknowledgement, then awaited his dictation. Beforehand, he quickly moved his hand to the keys and input the names of those he intended to send the message to - 11 people in total. As soon as it was done, he sat back, cleared his throat, then began speaking as the computer put his words onto the screen in bold lettering.

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

From: Terrik, Miramon

To: Iniara, Tarin; Cantrea, Janeilla; Zarides, Alexa; Wilat, Teryn; Merced, Justin; Marshal, Emma; Grant, Amelia; Ferris, Voss; Nas, Koru; Furji, Niklass; Sram; Relim.

CC: Ten Forward

Message:

As you know, the Ha'Mara festival begins tomorrow. If you intend to observe the ritual, meet me in Ten Forward at 2000hrs so we can arrange the details. We'll need to replicate a lot of candles, plus prepare the evening supper for tomorrow. I expect we'll end up having more than ourselves observing the ritual, and if not, there'll still be people in Ten Forward that might want to participate. I hope to see all of you there.

May The Prophets Walk With Us,

Terrik Miramon

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

He glanced briefly at the message, then hit the send button. He'd signed off using his traditional Bajoran name - he'd switched the two names around when he had joined Starfleet for ease of use. That way he could be addressed as Ensign Terrik, using his rank and familial name, while those that were aware of Bajoran customs knew not to use his given name indiscriminately, so they would always use the first name given, thinking it the family name. For those ignorant of Bajoran naming customs, they'd automatically call him by his first name anyway. Since he'd switched it so that he was Miramon Terrik, they always ended up calling him by his birth name and not his family name, as he preferred. Only a few people had realised what he'd done, though, but where he was concerned, it worked out perfectly that way.

Those he'd sent the message to were the Bajoran aboard ship - admittedly, three of them were half-Bajoran, but it would have been wrong of him to exclude them from the ceremony just as a result of the other half of their blood - one being half Betazoid, the other two being half Human. Still, there was much to be done in the meantime. He had to dig out his recipes for the traditional foods eaten before a ritual fast as was done on the second day of Ha'Mara, the actual anniversary of the coming of the Emissary. According to the tradition of the Ha'Mara, Bajorans would enjoy a Festival of Lights on the first day, followed by a ritual meal in the evening that would sustain them throughout the fast of the second day.

And since his mother was being decidedly persistant, how could he afford not to be there?

RPG NOTE:

This occurs directly after the events in "Mice", before we leave SB 212. Sorry for the backpost. -- MJ

"The Night After the Morning After"

Mjr. Corran Rex CO, Vanguard Sqn.

1Lt. T'Shani a'Akledorian CO, Furies Dtc.

== Deck 38: Corran's Quarters ==

Given that it was a bit late in the evening, Corran Rex was already clad in his nightclothes, a simple pair of pajama pants. He preferred to sleep without a shirt, as the fabric tended to bunch up, and well, that just got damned uncomfortable.

He was quite comfortable stretched out on the couch, reading the latest in a series of Klingon romance novels - the infamous 'Burning Hearts of Qo'noS' books - not, of course, that the Trill fighter pilot would ever admit that to anyone. If someone asked, he was reading piloting journals or some such. New developments in engine technology. Whatever.

He was just getting into a particularly good chapter when the chime for his quarters rang.

"Damn." he muttered, and made his way to the door. Corran probably should have expected who it was, but he really didn't have a clue.

"Hi, Corran," Tish said, diverting her eyes. She felt like a fool for coming here, after what had happened the other night. But, she felt like she owed him an explanation for bolting from her room that morning,leaving him in her quarters, alone. "May I come in?"

The Trill's eyes wandered momentarily over the Andorian Marine, who looked rather stunning in a strapless black dress. "That standard off duty attire for the Marine Corps?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Oh, stow it, Spotty. It's not for you," she sighed tiredly. After the dinner with J'Genthk, she really wasn't feeling chummy. Not that she usually *was* chummy, anyways.

"Sorry - yeah, come on in." he said, wondering where he could put the PADD that it wouldn't be seen.

He was also suddenly very acutely aware of his lack of a shirt.

Tish followed him into his quarters, her eyes following the spots down his strong, muscular back and down to that cute butt of his as he turned to lead her in. As he motioned her to the couch, she quickly snapped her eyes (and antennas) back up, hoping he hadn't caught her admiring him.

As a point of fact, he had, but then, considering how many glances he'd slipped at her form, it was only fair play. Grabbing one off the hamper pile that was buy the couch, he quickly slipped the t-shirt on over his head. "Want to sit?"

"No, actually I'll stand. The last time we were on a couch..." she trailed off, subtly hinting at what had happened the night before.

Corran wasn't sure about the last time it happened, but the Trill pilot actually blushed. "Yeah - sorry about that. It wasn't, ah.. it wasn't planned."

Great, make her think it was bad, why don't you.

"Sorry, not what I mean..."he sighed "I just wanted you to know, I didn't bring you alcohol with the intention of things getting all hot and sweaty. I.." he trailed off, and then snapped his head up. "Tish, why ARE you here, anyway?"

Tish thought about Rex's question. ~Why *am* I here,~ she questioned to herself. Sighing, she plopped down on the couch anyway, against her better judgement. She leaned back, while crossing her long blue legs, the hem of her dress not leaving much to the imagination...

While he waited for her response, Corran found his gaze sort of drifting over her body, even as he half-remembered the rather... entertaining... events of the night before. He'd just realized what he was doing when she spoke up.

"Hey, 'Spots', *I'm* up here," she waved, pointing to her face.

"Right, sorry." he said quickly, pinching his eyes shut for a moment. "Couldn't help it."

She waved her hand, annoyed. "I'm sorry..." she started, then paused when she realized that phrase was quickly becoming her mantra. ~I'm sorry Cass, for being a bitch. I'm sorry, Corran for...~

"...sleeping with you."

"That - what?" he snapped back, a bit surprised. "You want to..?"

"What?" she asked, surprised. Then, she realized that she hadn't said what she had meant to say. Instead, it was - as a Pinkskin would have called it - a classic 'Freudian Slip'.

"You said you were here to sleep with me." ~Again,~ he added mentally as he pointed the first out.

"And your... dress does seem to back that up." the Trill noted. "Am I wrong?"

Tish bolted straight up from the couch, her antennas arching dangerously forward as a chilling look set upon her face, setting her yellow eyes blazing. "You... YOU! I can't believe you!"

Stomping toward him, she pointed a long, blue finger accusingly at his chest. "So, every woman who wears a skirt is here to fuck you, Mister Top-Gun?!" her voice raised as a violet-blue color flushed her cheeks.

"Well, ah, no, but.." Corran started to stammer, taken pretty off guard.

She moved to right in front of the chair he was sitting in, her blue form towering over him. She growled, reached down and grabbed a bunch of his shirt, pulling him clean off the chair. Holding him face-to-face, she stared into his eyes, as if searching deep within the Trill for whatever she was looking for.

~What *am* I looking for?~ the voice at the back of her mind chimed in. ~Tish, let him go,~ it prodded gently.

She set him down on his feet again, then quickly backed up, surprised at her own outburst. "I- I'm, I'm so sorry, Corran. I..." she slumped down on the couch again.

Corran wasn't quite sure what to do, honestly. And truthfully, he felt a bit guilty about the previous night. It really hadn't been planned, and his conversation with Cass earlier that day complicated things.

"It's okay." he finally said, quietly. "And look - I'm sorry about last night. It was fun and all - don't get me wrong - but it wasn't what I intended to happen."

"No, it's... it's allright. I, I wanted it to happen, Corran."

"Well, I did too." Rex finally replied. "But I.. don't think it would be a good idea for it to happen again."

"No, no... It's okay, Rex. But, rhooz, how do I explain it to you?" she asked aloud. A moment later she she bowed her head, trying to hide the single tear that streaked down her cheek. She didn't want to be so vulnerable in front of Rex. But who could she talk to? Cass? No, he had Rima. Jazz? No, she had Wes. Corran was the one who - although she wouldn't admit it out loud - she trusted.

He moved next to her then, offering a (carefully - Tish had a strong grip, and probably a good right hook) comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'd say we're close enough now you can tell me anything, Tish." the Trill offered.

Could she? Tron had told her the same, and he had dissappeared; the Tal Shiar had taken him from her.

But...

"I can't tell you, Corran, but..." she paused, sniffling a little.

"It's a pretty easy process, Tish. You just open your mouth, and the words come out."

She couldn't help but let a small laugh escape her lips. Turning to face him, her intense yellow eyes held his gentle brown. Smiling, she stood, while her hand went behind her back, pulling at something at the nape of her dress.

"I can only show you..."

And with that, she let the dress silently fall to the floor, revealing her tall blue form in all its splendor.

While momentarily distracted by her nudity, it only took a moment to notice what she was speaking of. He was amazed, really, that he hadn't noticed it the night before. A combination of dim lighting and drunken haze, he assumed.

There was a long jagged scar running across much of her torso, starting below her left breast, running all the way down to the inside of her pelvis. He felt a justifiable anger growing at the sight. "What did this?"

Tish moved slowly toward him, like a hurt animal testing if it could trust the stranger in front of her. She paused slightly, as the dangerous chill entered his voice. He had never heard *that* voice before from him, and wondered if it was maybe one of his *other* personalities manifesting itself.

"Corran?" she asked tentatively, shyly. She felt like a little girl again, pleading with someone to like her; to understand her... to *love* her.

"Oh, it's me." he replied. "Tish - what did this to you?"

She moved closer, to just in front of him, his face was directly hip-level to her. Gently, she leaned over and took his hand, placing it on the scar below her breast, and gently guided it down.....

"A Romulan General, Corran. He raped me, after *this*. He... *damaged* me, Corran," she choked back the tears as she guided his hand lower even more, down her belly...

"I can never have children," her voice broke as she rested his hand over her abdomen.

"I understand." he said quietly. "I've been a woman myself a few times. Baledra couldn't have any children, either. It's a horrible thing, and not always something science can fix."

"But Tish," he said. "Sometimes it can. That scar tells me you haven't seen a Doctor about it. They can heal that. Maybe they can heal the other damage, too." And not just the physical ones, he thought as he saw the pain in her face.

"Corran," she was near tears, again, her antennas hanging low over her brow. The whisper that escaped her lips was almost inaudible...

"There's nothing left inside, Corran. Nothing substantive, anyway."

It all explained so much about this woman, and he had to wonder if she'd ever told anyone else. Holding the damaged woman - who seemed nothing so much as a small, frightened girl right now, he used one hand to pick up a blanket off the nearby couch.

Corran wrapped her in it, and then held her tight to him. Not in a lover's embrace, but more like a father's. There was nothing he could say - nothing could really make things better. So he remained silient, and gave what comfort he could.

Her hearts ached: no one had ever understood, no one had ever shown such compassion... not since Tron. It was all too much... she began to sob, her tears staining Corran's tee-shirt as her delicate head rested on his shoulders.

He continued to hold her as she cried, wondering if she'd ever even shown any other person this kind of vulnerability. Somehow, Corran doubted it.

She cried for a few more moments, but slowly took comfort again as Corran's strong arms wrapped around her. "I... I don't want to be alone, Corran. I... I can't, not anymore. They're coming for me, and..."

Even as he shushed her, he was struck by a sudden moment of clarity. "I'll help you however I can, Tish. They won't get you. And you can sleep here, if you like. But I'll take the couch."

Even as she looked taken aback at that statement, Corran continued. "I'm not the one who'll be right for you, and make you feel safe. You know who that man is."

Tish nodded, then let him guide her to his own bed. Part of her wanted him to stay with her, to just hold her through the night. But the other part knew what he had said was true: she knew who that man was.

He guided the numb Andorian woman into the room, and laid her gently onto the bed. As he watched from the doorway, he saw as she fell asleep. Once Corran was certain of that, he went to the terminal in the bedroom, immediately shifting gears to find out what would need to be done to fnd out what exactly had happened to her.

"Computer." he said as he sat at his workstation. "Open subspace frequency to Captain Tara Reynolds, Commanding, USS Concorde."

"Morning Meeting and Revelations"

Lt(jg) Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer
Ensign Paulo DiMillo, Intelligence Officer and Pat Weber's "Break News" post.

Paulo walked down the corridor heading for the Intelligence Offices. He had a meeting with Cora about the upcoming mission, and about the revelations that had happened over the past month or so. A few minutes later Paulo was standing outside Cora's office and pressing the chime.

"Enter," Cora called hoping this meeting would go better than her recent one with Bental had.

Paulo walked in, "morning," Paulo said as he headed for the replicator. "Can I get you anything?"

Cora nodded, "Morning. A nice strong raktajino will do nicely, thanks."

"Computer, two hot raktajinos, one extra strong," Paulo ordered. A second later the two cups materialized and he took them and handed one over to Cora as he sat down.

"So how are you doing?" Dobryin inquired as she accepted the drink.

"Depends," Paulo said. "But in general I am doing pretty good." Then he paused. "I never told you why I asked to be taken off the O'Shea investigation, did I?" Paulo asked. It had been a few months, and it was most likely about time to tell her. He trusted her enough to know that she wouldn't be making calls left and right spreading it around.

"No you didn't and it would help to know why? If you're ready to talk about it," Cora responded.

Paulo thought a moment while taking a sip of his raktajino. Guessing being straight forward and blunt was the best way to go. "During the investigation I found out that Anna's father had a short stint with my mother shortly after she was married. After digging in a little deeper it was about 9 months before I was born." Paulo paused a second more thinking. This was tougher then when her father made a trip here. "Anna O'Shea is my half sister, by her father." He then looked down at his raktajino then back up to her.

"That does come as a shock. How are you handling it, Paulo?"

Now Paulo was the one to be shocked. Even being in Intelligence they faced a lot of shocking things, but nothing like this. "Good. I had dinner with her and her to be husband and her marine friend," Paulo said. "Lets just say it's a shock to the system. I can't really describe the feelings. I am not a social person usually, but now I have to be. I have to let some of my walls down so that I can get to know her and she can get to know me."

Cora simply nodded then took a sip of her drink, "Understandable. Take your time in letting yourself adjust to these sudden changes."

Paulo nodded. It would take some getting used to. He then decided to change the subject, "so, what's the reason you called me in here at this ungodly hour?" Paulo said. "I don't think it was for me to poor my heart out." He then smiled. He hadn't smiled a real one for ages, but finding out he had another sister made him happy; something to live for.

"Data I need you to look over." Cora handed him a PADD with some reference information on it.

Paulo looked over the pad. "Scientists, just don't know when to quite," Paulo said. "You know they are asking for trouble when the Hydran's are involved."

Cora nodded in full agreement with his comments, "We don't need another encounter like our last one. Starfleet already wants to shove the truth under deep cover which just leaves us open to repeat history once again."

"True," Paulo replied as he looked back at the pad and took a sip of his drink. "There isn't much data to go on, and Intel reports are hard to come by from that area of space, but I will see what I can get."

"That's all I can ask. It why we're being sent in there to play watchdog," Cora responded.

"I will get on it right away," Paulo finally replied setting the pad down. "Anything else I can do for you?"

There was silence for a brief moment, "Actually there is. Some recent events have prompted me to want to look further into the background of someone we both work with. Its not something I'd normally ask anyone to do but you have the connections and I feel the research could be useful."

Paulo simply nodded as he took a sip of his drink. "Do I need to ask who?"

"I think its safe to say you can easily figure out who," Cora trusted Paulo to figure it out without further information.

Paulo nodded again. "I will tell you if I find anything out," Paulo replied as he stood up. "If there is nothing else."

With brief nod Cora responded, "I trust you will. Good luck on the search for more Hydran info."

Just as Paulo was getting ready to leave the door chime rang. "Come," Cora said not expecting anyone. A Crewman ran in.

"Sir, ma'am, take a look at this. Computer, turn on FNS," the crewman ordered and the three looked at the wall screen.

--FNS Broadcast-- "Good afternoon, sentients of the Federation." the rather tackily-dressed reporter said as the holocams started running. "This is Breaking News. Your usual host, Emmett Bregman won't be joining us today. I'm Vera Donahue, and I'm filling in."

"We have today, one of the most shocking stories to ever be uncovered by the Federation News Service. According to information we've received from a source inside Starfleet, the government of the United Federation of Planets has been lying to us all. We have some logs from the Starship USS Arizona that we would like to show."

The picture faded away a moment, to be replaced by a recording from an external viewer of a starship. Donahue's voice could still be heard.

On the screen, the USS Miranda and USS Galaxy, both in separated modes, could be seen fighting a large number of vessels, and taking heavy damage.

"What you are seeing is images of the Starships Galaxy and Miranda, slightly over ten months ago. FNN has been able to determine that the two starships, under the commands of Captains Elaithin Jii of Bajor and Daren M'Kantu of Earth, were dispatched to the Breen homeworld for diplomatic talks."

On the screen, other Federation starships began to move into view as several ships assumed defensive positions around Miranda and Galaxy. The camera zoomed in as the Miranda's tertiary hull was destroyed, and panned to the left as a pair of starships - Prometheus and Nebula Class, respectively - extracted their vengeance on the Hydran ship responsible. The reporter continued her report.

"Captain Elaithin's diplomatic party was taken prisoner by the Breen, even as the two ships were ambushed in orbit by vessels belonging to the T'Kith'Kin Hive and Hydran Sovereignty. The Breen then used this opportunity to hold the diplomatic party hostage, claiming to be threatened by the other two powers."

After showing some rather spectacular footage of a Galaxy-Class starship colliding with a T'Kith'Kin Command Carrier, the camera reverted back to Donahue.

"This turns out to have been a hoax perpetrated by the former Breen General, Thot Gor, who assumed power during this incident. Now a dictator, "Aval" Gor is actually in alliance with the powers of the T'Kith'Kin and Hydrans."

"The footage you saw previously was taken in the Havras at the time of this incident. It is of the 12th Fleet forcibly extricating the starships Miranda and Galaxy from where they were massively outnumbered."

"The Federation Council chose to hide this incident from he public at large, even though no less than twenty-nine Federation starships were destroyed, claiming a death toll of more than sixteen thousand. To put some more perspective on this, that is five thousand more people than were killed at the disastrous Battle of Wolf 359 by the Borg."

"This Reporter was astonished to discover that not only are there no less that three significant galactic powers pursuing hostilities against the Federation - we have been able to confirm reports of a significant number of border engagements with both the Breen and the T'Kith'Kin - but that the Federation Council has chosen to hide this information from the public for nearly a year, while Starfleet has been explicitly ordered not to increase it's defensive posture!"

"We will be running a full special broadcast once all the data in our possession is analyzed. Stay tune for further coverage of this breaking story throughout the day, as we await responses from the President's Office, the Federation Council, and Starfleet Command."

"Up next, we have Dana Hennessy with a report on the political implications of these relevations, specifically on what we can expect from our Klingon and Romulan allies now that these facts have been uncovered. Stay tuned to FNN." --End FNS Broadcast--

"Off," Cora finally said.

"This is not good," Paulo said. "This is not good at all." Paulo then looked over to the crewman who then promptly left.

Cora simply nodded too in shock to say anything while her brain worked overtime to process their next course of action. "Finding that Hydran info has just taken on new urgency. I want the Intelligence staff combing every resource they can get their hands on and then some. Those blasted reporters aren't finished yet I have a feeling."

"Agreed. There has got to be something else behind this though, and I will find out what it is. Maybe if I am luckily it will help with the other problem."

"Anything you can come up with will be helpful," Cora found herself staring at the empty screen for a moment longer, "So much for hoping I'd get through this day without a major headache. We'll get the Intel staff together for a meeting before the shift change unless something new arises and we have to move it up."

"Getting through a day without a headache I don't think is passable in our profession," Paulo replied. "See you at the meting," he said as he turned and walked out of her office to get to work.

((OOC: Emmett's my PCC on the Galaxy, but I figured since Vera's broadcast was on both this should also be shared. Then again, who doesn't love Emmett? :) - Laurel))

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

"Scooped!"

by Emmett Bregman Documentary Director, Reporter, and Everyone's Favorite Newsman

---

Have you ever hated someone on sight? Honestly, completely, absolutely, no doubt about it hated someone? Well, perhaps hate isn't a strong enough word. Loath would definitely cover the bases. Vera Donahue has to be the slimiest, most corrupted, horrible bitch that I have ever met. This is not just because she managed to out-scoop me on the Havras issue, nor is it because she turned me down for a date; no this runs deeper than that. I think that Vera Donahue has been swayed to work for someone. Just who that someone is, I don't know. I have no proof beyond my gut feeling, but my gut has been well known to lead me to a scoop before and it will again. Besides, I just don't like it when someone takes over my desk.

--

USS Galaxy

"Emmett, how good to see you," Vera pasted on a false smile as Emmett Bregman's face appeared on her terminal, "Did you see my report?"

"I did and I find it rather curious that you managed to retrieve the logs from the USS Arizona from Starfleet. They don't tend to hand those files out to just any reporter that comes along you know," Emmett replied, not bothering to hide his dislike of the poorest excuse for a reporter that he had seen in a long time.

"That's because I have better sources than you," Vera replied haughtily.

"And I have a vacation home by the ocean on Vulcan," Emmett snapped, "Are you trying to undermine the government with your exposure, or is that just a little perk?"

"It's the news, Emmett. You'd do the exact same thing if you were in my shoes. The news is the news, and the Havras incident is definitely news. Tell me, Emmett, you were there and you didn't say anything. How long have you been on Starfleet's payroll?" Donahue asked in a sickly sweet tone.

Emmett's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Don't try playing with me, Donahue, you're well out of your league. Enjoy your time in the limelight, because I promise you won't be enjoying it for long. Bregman out."

When the screen went dark, Emmett stared at the terminal screen with a grimace on his face. Perhaps he shouldn't have tipped his hand quite so boldly, but that woman aggravated the hell out of him. He found it hard to believe that someone in Starfleet would so boldly hand over the logs to Vera Donahue of all people. She had been on the black list for some time thanks to some earlier stunts that she had pulled and now she appeared out of the dung heap covered in dilithium. He certainly could not chalk that up because she was a better journalist than he or even because she had better sources. One of his best friends was the President of the Federation for God's sake. Bregman had two Pulitzer prizes, an Academy award, and a Herst Journalism award. What did Vera have? A nameplate on her door at FNN.

Bitch.

There had to be some way he could prove that Vera did something illegal, or to even get her arrested for selling government secrets or something of that nature. He knew she had to have been bought but it was damn hard to research into that possibility from the USS Galaxy. Nor was he certain whom he could trust on Earth to do some of the gofer work needed to find more information. Sometimes it was difficult being the best at what he did.

Emmett pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This would require quite a bit of thought before he came to any sort of plan about how he would expose Vera for the bitch that she was. But expose her he would and he would be clapping when the heads start to roll.

"Guess who's coming to dinner?"

Lt. Commander Brianna "Anna" O'Shea, Chief Engineer / Liaison SCE
Ensign Paulo DiMillo, Intelligence Officer
Ensign Marcus Slayton, Engineering Officer
2nd Lt Jebidah Baile, SFMC, Furies. Recon Mission Specialist.

:: Lt. Cmdr O'Shea's Quarters ::

Paulo walked down the corridor heading for Anna's quarters for dinner. This would be the first time that Paulo would actually be able to sit down and talk with his to be brother-in-law. Paulo walked up and hit the chime.

Anna decided not to wear her uniform for dinner this evening, opting up to wear a dress. Probably no one on the ship beside Marc had ever seen her in one. She'd cooked a good dinner, roasted lamb, herbed roasted potatoes, green beans and the some rolls from the replicator. She would have made then, but didn't have time. Putting Peckerwood in the bedroom, mainly cause she didn't like him being fed table food, she then heard the door. Wondered if it was Marc or Paulo. "Come.." She said, as she walked into the living area and saw it was her brother, Paulo. "Hope you brought your appetite, and like lamb." She said, then smiled. "Marc should be here soon."

"Hope you don't mind, but I've invited someone else to dinner tonight. My best friend, don't have to worry, about what we say. He'll not say anything to anyone." Anna said.

"I don't mind," Paulo said as he walked in and looked around. This would be the first time he would be in her quarters, and it wasn't really what he expected.

Anna's quarters were littered with personal mementos of her travels, each held a story to them for her. Large over size furniture, that seemed to hug person as they sat adorned the room. Candles sprinkled around and casting a soft glow. She'd never liked the standard mill quarters, so being a engineer she took some liberties. Living room was spacious and attached to the eating area, separated by some structural beams which she had formed in the shape of some column. Dinning room table was large, wooden table that would seat eight comfortable. Small kitchen was off to the side and the replciator was concealed inside a wooden cabinet, opting not to look at the thing every time she turned around.

Dinner? What the hell? The man groaned at the thought, but figured with the way Anna had been feeling last they met it would be bad to turn down the invitation.

"Make yourself at home.. Marc should be here soon, Jeb will be on time." Anna said,t hen turned to finish sitting the table.

On the dot Baile pressed the chime, wearing jeans and one of his usual tight t-shirts with the SFMC insignia. The door opened and he stepped inside and looked around. "Still the scavenger?" he said to Anna as he went inside.

"Always.." Anna said, as she looked over at Baile. "Make yourself at home.. fix you two some drinks while I finish up dinner.." Anna said, then turned, Baile probably never seen her in this fashion before, but he did know one thing, she could cook very well.

She didn't need to ask him twice. "Praise the quartermasters.. Vodka.." he said with a sly grin on his face, poured himself one and turned to the other man in the room. "What'll it be, Sunshine?"

"Anything but Vodka. Can't stand the stuff," Paulo replied as he stood up.

Marcus was walking down the corridor towards Anna's quarters having gotten done with a series of questions that his father wanted to ask him about concerning family stuff and Chani but Marcus was already fearing that he was running late for the dinner date with Anna and Paulo.

When he reached Anna's quarters, he activated the chime as a way of being polite rather than just walking in possibly on a family conversation between her and Paulo. So, he waited for a response.

"Baile.. can you get that?" Anna asked, as she finished setting he table. Standing back she then turned and checked the food and then began to put it in serving bowels and setting it over on the table.

"Yes ma'am." he replied with the typical Marine courtesy. As he passed Paulo he handed over the drink he had made for him. "Here you go." Reaching the door he pressed the button and the door slid open. He was probably the last thing the visitor expected to see. Several massive tattoos, a short cropped mohicanstyle haircut and a face that both could and did scare children away.

Marcus looked at the marine for a couple of seconds before holding his hand out and saying "Marcus Slayton, one of Anna's henchmen down in engineering." he said while making a small joke at his own expense. Marcus was friends with a few marines including Donut and Church.

"Nice to meet you." Baile replied and shook his hand. "I'm Baile."

Anna looked up from the dinning room and looked at the three men. "Okay, well dinner is ready if you want to come and sit down." Anna said, as they made there way in there. Anna stood there and then sat down at the table and looked at them. She'd not had this many before for dinner since being back onboard the Galaxy.

Paulo walked over and sat down at the table and started to take some food and pass the dishes around.

Marcus sat down next to Anna and took a whiff of the lamb, he loved to do cooking and very few people actually got to see him cook so he actually took his time in taking the smell of the lamb and enjoying it as the conversation slowly started up around him.

Baile had never been one for social functions. There was just something about non-marines that made him uneasy. Starfleet in particular. He had never really cared for Fleeters. They were just a means of transportation to him. Glorified bus drivers. "So, Anna. Who died and left you a dress?"

Paulo sat there, and couldn't hold from letting out a small laugh.

Anna grinned and then began to fix plates, just as her mother did and pass them to the men sitting at her table. "I do own dresses, Baile. Just never felt the need to wear one around the ship before." She said, then looked down at it. "First time you've seen me in one, I think, isn't it?" She said, then handed the final plate to Paulo, before fixing her own. Sitting it down at her place setting, she turned and picked up the bottle of wine and handed to Marcus, "Open that please.." She said, then sat down and picked up her napkin.

Marcus looked a bit pained, Anna knew that he knew how to open the tricky thing called a wine cork because he even had problems opening the darned things, but in the end he managed to get the thing open and poured the wine into the glasses before he sat back down next to her and smiled. "Anna, I don't know why you don't wear them." he asked idly as he unfolded his napkin and placed it in his lap.

"Cause, like the certain edge I've developed on the ship." Anna said, then grinned and looked around. "You three are the first to set at this table with me, feeling lucky?" Anna asked, as she grinned and picked up her and knife to cut her piece of lamb. "This is a get to know each other, you three are the most important people to me on this ship." Anna said. "So me explain how this is going to work." Brianna said, running her dinner party as if she was in engineering and having a meeting. Only thing missing was Naranda Sol Roswell sitting in the corner, rolling her eyes, and someone Anna to bitch at later. Anna truly had no experience in this sort of setting.

"Baile has been with me through some hard times, of which he and I can't disclose cause of the nature of it. He's a very good friend, best friend even. He's someone that I can count on no matter what to back me up. Might not agree with me, but he'll back me up and ball me out in private..." Anna said, not eating, but just talking about her guests. "I want you both," Anna said, looking at Will and Paulo, "to know that Baile is part of my life. He might piss you off, hell, he pisses me off routinely. I'd like for you all to give him a chance." Anna said, then looked to Paulo.

"He," Anna said, gesturing to Paulo. "Paulo is my half brother.. Don't know to much about him, but I know one thing. He's shy, doesn't say that much. Probably why he works in Intelligence." She said, grinning at Paulo. "He's someone I hope to get to know a lot better, hope that someday he and I can have that brother and sister relationship we didn't get growing up." She then kicked Baile slightly under the table with her barefoot. "you be nice to him." She said, giving Baile a friendly grin.

Paulo let out a sly smile. He may be shy at time, but he could kick some ass when needed... it just hadn't happened yet... the way that he planned that is.

"Finally," Anna said looking beside her at the smiling face looking back at her. "There is Marcus, the man that I have compared all other men to since I met him at the academy. The man that probably is closer to me then I've every allowed any man to be, he's the one that knows the fears and dreams. He's the one that I'm going to marry, and be his wife." She said smiling at him and caressed his face, without even looking at Baile she said, "Baile better be nice.." She said, then looked at Baile and smiled.

"I am being nice.." he replied with a sly grin. "I'm just not used to hear my name, the word nice without 'not' in the same line." Then his face took on a little more serious expression. "If that's how you feel for Marcus, then drop the hatch and storm the beach."

Marcus blushed a deep red color, he wasn't expecting her to say that of all things. It made him actually feel good to have at least more than just his family knowing about him and hers relationship, but he also knew that the hardest part would include letting her parents know about what was happening and then there would be the captain and the rest of the engineering staff.

"Don't worry, Baile. I know already that if I hurt her in anyway that I will have a line around the next parsec of space wanting me to pay dearly for that and I already know who'd be at the front of that line." Marcus said looking at Anna's half-brother and then Baile in turn before gently taking the hand that Anna caressed his face with into his and squeezing it gently. "Of course we're still trying to hammer out the exact date but the wedding will happen here on the Galaxy." Marcus said trying to keep the worry out of his eyes. He and Anna had already discussed about how they were going to get one of his best friends to the wedding if Jacob accepted the position of best man but that was something for another time to worry about as he gently squeezed Anna's hand again.

Paulo smiled as he took a sip of wine. "I am guessing the line would be a little longer," Paulo replied.

Anna had no doubt that Baile would not need any help in taking out anyone. Sipping her wine she was about to say something when she heard the chime on the door. "Oh, excuse me." Brianna said, wiping her mouth and standing. Walking from the dinning area she walked over toward the door and hit the button. Her smile soon faded as she realized her father was standing there, "Dad? What are you doing here?" Anna asked, slightly off guard about him being here.

William O'Shea walked in and glanced toward the dinning area, and then looked back to his daughter. Grabbing her arm, instead of taking it, he pulled her over so they could speak quietly. "You always meddled in things that didn't concern you. That's why you aren't a good engineer. You haven't learned your place." He snapped at her, now off the shock of learning about Paulo and onto being angry again at Brianna.

"What, are you delusional or is your memory going?" Anna asked, pulling her arm away. "I guess it's tough thinking about all the women you've clearly had sex with out there." Anna said, before she could move William slapped her across the face.

"Donnae you sass me, lass." William snapped.

Before Anna could respond she found herself nudged slightly and Baile had William. "Baile!" Anna said, resting her hand on his arm.

She also had Paulo and Marcus standing right behind her. "I would suggest we just escort him off, or call security," Paulo suggested. "We don't want to spend any time in the brig after all."

The Marine felt the older man struggle a little, but had no problem what so ever in holding him away from Anna. But quite frankly he'd had enough of the man, Anna's father or not. ""You three go back and take it easy." every ounce of emotions had vanished from his voice. He looked at Anna. "I'll get him back to his quarters safely, don't worry." With that he grabbed William O'Shea's arm and hauled him out, not waiting for anyone to stop him. Anna had seen the look in Baile's eyes before. "Let's go Gracie.."

-- outside Anna's quarters --

Baile dragged the older man around the corner, ignoring the protests. As they came around it, out of earshot, Baile slammed the older man up against the bulkhead. "Let me explain something to you, Gramps.. You got a good daughter who can't help being related to a two bit drunken has-been like you. Now, you old fart, I'm a friend of Anna's, and that mean she's chosen to be my friend and I take care of my friends." His grip tightened around the older man's arm. That would most definitely leave a mark in the morning.

"This has nothing to do with you. Release me this instant, Lieutenant!" William said. "She is my daughter and I will treat her any way I see fit." William said.

"Look at me." Baile ordered the older man. "I said.. look.. at.. me.." There was just a hint of anger in the marine's voice, but it cut through the drunken haze like a scalpel. "I've got a shitlist a mile long, but you, gramps, you don't want to get on it." he fixed the older man's gaze with his own. William could see the merciless brutality this Marine was capable of. "You will act the good father and nod when ever she asks you anything, cause if you cause her more grief, you shitfaced monkey, there's not a place in this galaxy that you can hide. Are we clear?"

"Are. We. Clear?." Baile asked one last time. He had switched to Marine mode now, totally void of any compassion he might have had for anyone.

"Oh we are clear... very clear." William replied as he stood there.

"Good. Now drag your bony ass down to whatever dump they placed you in and stay there until someone asks for you. And remember - if I find out you've been giving Anna grief, then so help you God.. then you better get off this ship and head as far away from this galaxy you can, cause I'll be coming for you."

William wasn't about to go into it with this man. This wasn't over for him, he would talk to his daughter, maybe not today, or tomorrow, but he would.

-- back inside Anna's quarters --

Paulo looked over to Anna who was already being comforted by Marcus. She looked more shocked that her own dad just slapped her then hurt. Paulo didn't really know what to do at this moment. He could get security and have him arrested, but that wouldn't do any good for anyone. Paulo just stood there, waiting for someone to say something.

Baile left him standing in the corridor and walked back to Anna's quarters. "So what's for dessert?"

Anna was standing there, one arm resting across her body. While her hand rubbed her still stinging face. She wondered what Baile did to him, she might not get along with him that much, but sure didn't want him dead.

"He's fine.. he just needed to talk, that was all." Baile replied as he sat down, yet he had a feeling Anna had seen the look in his eyes as he walked through the door.

"Well.." Anna said, looking at Marcus and Paulo. "I'll get you all some dessert." Anna said, then moved out of Marc arms and went to dish it up and put some out for Paulo, then Marcus. Anna's mind wasn't on the food or how good the evening had been up until her father's arrival, it was on what he would do next. It never ended like this before, she wondered if Baile had managed to calm William down, or only fueled it. Getting Baile's dessert she sat it down in front of him and then sat down herself. "I'm sorry for that.. let us try to just finish this dinner on a good note.." Anna said, then forced a smile to disarm and looked at her wine, showing her mind was thousand miles away from here at this point.

[Backpost]

"A Lung For To Rue"

(Takes place immediately after ‘Only One Reward’)

Principle Characters

Commander James Corgan

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 7
Outside Victor Krieghoff's Quarters

There was only one person on the ship who faced Death and lived.

Many times over, in fact.

He faced Death at the Battle of Sector 001, against Borg and assimilated mates, setting the tone for what was the rest of his life.

He had faced Death during the last year of the Dominion War as a member of the a suicide regiment called the 'Last Chancers', and as such was consistently sent to the worst hellholes any soldier had the misfortune of being booted off ship into.

He faced Death on Bajor, fighting off Cardassians as they made a last attempt to seize a Federation Embassy.

He faced Death with the Borg... again. Went even more nutty in the process.

He faced Death with Hirogen hunters, Breen elite forces, Hydran shock troopers, Klingon bar brawlers, Naussican mercenaries and his fair share of traitors.

Some would say that he worked with Death on a day to day basis.

He was not Death, only his messenger, and he always delivered.

He was James Lionel Corgan, Commander and Security Chief, and today he had a message to send to 'Death'. None too pleasant, one that sank like a ballast stone in his stomach. One that implied a fellow mate held questionable conduct that violated even HIS loose and flexible standards.

It was never a good day to have a serious talk to one of his own. It was even worse when it had to be Lieutenant Krieghoff, a man James respected deeply in his own staff, a man troubled enough to even give James a reason to pause.

Then again, James Corgan was possibly the only man on the ship that could stand up to him without quailing in some sort of deep seeded fear, therefore it was his job. He mentally toughened himself for what was to be a tough fight, and waved his two flanking officers away to wait somewhere distant.

James rang the doorbell and waited.

There was a pause, only a few seconds longer than normal, but just enough to be noticeable. Several lights that normally didn't flash on the door panel worked in a sequence that told James a security scanner had been installed and had transferred an image of the area outside the door to someone, presumably Victor, inside. Another three seconds passed, and then the door slid open.

Inside, the room was sparse, not the place that James recalled from the few times he'd seen it in the old saucer section. The furniture was all the same, with the same arrangement, but the pictures and the large number of plants he recalled weren't present. Sounds from the open bathroom door to the right told him where Victor was; the infrequently interrupted splashing of water in the sink hinting at why.

James took a cursory glance over at Krieghoff's security system. "You know Lieutenant, Engineering is going to sh*t kittens when they find out about your quarters modifications."

"Lieutenant Grey looked at it, Commander," Victor's toneless voice carried out of the bathroom. "If you check the logs, you'll see that she changed the hookup to meet specs and signed off on it."

"Hell with it." Corgan muttered, deciding to drop the small talk in record time. He turned back his attention to the bathroom with its running sink, "I'm not here about your security system, Victor. It's something much worse, and it has me pretty damn worried. At least give the both of us the dignity of talking man to man for what I'm about to discuss with you and come out of the bathroom." He then added as an afterthought, "And for my sakes, make sure you're clothed..."

There was a pause, and then Victor stepped back into the living area. He was naked from the waist up, had a towel over one shoulder, and some kind of greenish-white foam covered his cheek and jaw on the left side of his face and small patches of it dotted the right side of his face. He had a single-edged blade in his right hand, something that James recognized as a shaving razor of Klingon design. "Excuse me, sir?"

"Thank you." James sat himself down on the couch, dropping any pretense of being official and disciplined. Against Krieghoff, such formalities didn't even register, much less work. As an added measure, James kept his hand away from the phaser, though he knew fully well that Victor could render bodily harm to him if he wasn't on his toes.

James was taking a non threatening posture to a man that was literally 'death' in the flesh. Though James too was a veteran of the Dominion Wars like Victor, and though he too killed many men (it was an unknown fact to both of them that James had, in fact, the higher overall career kill score). However, James neither wanted to offend nor allow Victor the opportunity to look down at him with scorn.

No, it was the wrong attitude, James realized. He was the superior officer, dammit! He had to look tough and authoritative, as if he and he alone could stand up to this animal of a man. Weakness was not allowed.

So James stayed cool as possible, but unable to contain the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that if he did something wrong... Victor would make him pay.

"Victor." Corgan began, "I have a couple of security officers at the nearest turbolift waiting for us, and a team on standby if needed, but even though I remain cautious, I should remind you that I am your superior officer. I can therefore command your compliance for what I have to ask of you. But we are also comrades; therefore I will give you the chance first to comply on your own free will. I do not even have my phaser on me," James patted his empty hip holster, "...while yours is close by. It's also fair to warn you that the implications on you are very serious and unlike everything else that happened to you it could end your career indefinitely and permanently. Therefore, with all that set aside, I ask you this..."

Corgan leaned over, and said, "What the f**k is with that new transplant of yours? Your lungs are new, pretty well built, and possibly illegal to own in the Federation, and until we examine them further they may even violate genetic modification laws. Before I tell you to go to sickbay to verify these allegations, I want you to tell me first."

There was a long pause as Victor looked at him intently, head tilted to one side. "Congratulations on the promotion, Commander," he finally offered.

"This isn't about the new promotion, Lieutenant. Answer my question!" Corgan snapped impatiently.

"I didn't recall seeing it posted in the department message traffic," Victor continued without appearing to notice James' attempt to steer the conversation back towards the original topic. "Did it happen after I got off shift this morning?"

James rolled his eyes. He saw that he was getting NOWHERE with Victor. "I just received it this morning. M'Kantu gave me the pip. And guess what else he gave me? The task of finding out about that new lung of yours. Consider your co-operation to be as good as Captain's orders. Tell me."

"It's a lung, Commander," Victor replied blandly. "To the best of my knowledge, I breathe with it."

Corgan sighed. Talking to Krieghoff was still as exasperating as it ever was. "No shit, Lieutenant. Could you drop the blatantly obvious and start with where you got it?"

Victor shrugged. "I don't know, sir. I was unconscious at the time."

"You're not an easy man to ambush. How did that happen?"

"I imagine that Attendant K'vala felt that when she decided that it was time for her to kill me, it wouldn't be a fair fight if I only had the one, sir." Victor considered his options for a moment, and then decided that since he'd told Grey, he could tell the Commander. "Since the Attendant was the one that stabbed me through the old one, I believe that she thought she ought to provide a replacement."

"How nice of her." Corgan commented drolly, "I doubt you would consider the transplant against your will, considering how strong your survival instinct can be at times. However, were you made aware of any modifications to the new organ? If so, I'd like to know. This is the main point of contention."

Victor frowned again. "Modifications? No." He thought a moment, deciding what his promise to the Attendant allowed him to say. "I don't recall that she said anything about it at all, Commander. I received the injury at her hand and collapsed when the lung filled with blood and I started to drown in it. When I came to, whatever was done to me had been done and we were back aboard our vessel and underway. She said nothing about the incident that led to her stabbing me or what had transpired afterwards to me then, or on the voyage back."

"Hmmmm..." James considered Krieghoff's testimony. James could not tell whether or not Victor was lying. He was treading into unknown territory with his Lieutenant.

He decided on a more positive approach.

"If you're being truthful with me, then you have a defense in case this new lung does violate any rules. Personally, I'm not too eager on arresting one of my own Lieutenants for something as stupid as a lifesaving illegal lung, so let's get some answers. Want to find out what she put in you?" James offered.

Victor shrugged. "Now, sir?" It was just as easy to be tested and get it over with now as later.

James looked over Victor, shirtless and with a half face full of shaving cream. "Within reason, Lieutenant. Finish up and come with me."

"One moment then, sir," he nodded and turned back to the bathroom. A minute's work with the razor and towel and Victor was back, freshly shaved. He picked up the rest of his clothing and slipped it on, then turned and nodded to James. "I doubt you'll need the others, sir. I expect they'll be happier elsewhere."

"Probably. You do have that effect on people." Corgan dismissed the officers on standby, and said to Victor, "I thought you might be trouble. Seriously, that new lung of yours is a mystery. We didn't know if it was a willing and illegal transplant or not. And even then..."

James paused, but then added, "You'll have, of course, legal representation in case the worse happens. Lieutenant O'Rourke can take care of that easily."

“I imagine that she’d be happier somewhere else too, sir,” Victor observed. “Just like she’s happier on a different shift, and different residence level than mine.”

James laughed off the claim. "You have a way with women sometimes, and not in a positive way. But personally, there are times when I too want them to bug off. Since I took this job i've had to phaser stun a few of them myself. However I can tell you this... be kind to Lieutenant O'Rourke. She's a good officer... better now that you had that pep talk with her months ago, but now you should be gentle."

Then James added, "Especially since she may be your legal representation. Treat her well, and she'll give you the same respect."

The door slid shut behind them and beeped as it locked. “Perhaps, sir. I doubt it though,” Victor commented. He fell silent for three steps. “I do have a scheduling question for you, though - if you don’t mind answering it, sir.”

"Sure. What is it?"

“Who made out the assignment for the additional personnel that transferred in from the Vanguard teams while I was gone, sir?”

Corgan tried to recall, "I would have given it the final approval. There was one person who transferred and wanted a specific shift. I gave her that shift because the position was available. Who was she? Angelica? Angeline? Why do you ask?"

“Flight Officer Angelienia, sir.” Victor paused at the turbolift doors while a car was summoned. “I was curious as to how she ended up on my shift. Now I know.”

“Is there a problem with her?”

“I don’t think that ‘problem’ is the right word, sir.” The lift car arrived and Victor waited until they were underway to continue. “She sees something that everyone else doesn’t when she looks at me, sir. Something… attractive.” He looked at James, eyes expressionless. “I found her in my cabin once - in my bed, waiting for me.”

James raised an eyebrow and whistled. "And they say that I get too much action. What did you do, throw her out?"

“I threw her out, yes,” Victor nodded. “It hasn’t seemed to change anything.”

"Thought so." James deadpanned, "Perhaps next time... call security. We may laugh for awhile, but we'll stop any stalking on her part. That's what we're here for. To protect, be it xenophobic killer aliens or flight officers in heat."

“I don’t know that it’s worth worrying about, sir. I’m not going to do anything, and I think she realizes that there’s a line beyond which I’m not going to permit her to cross.” He shrugged. “At least she does now.”

"Does she?" Corgan skeptically asked. "Let me handle it. I'll reassign her back to her old position. At least it will save you some grief."

“No, go on and leave her where she is, sir. This way, I *know* where she is, and what she’s doing.”

"Bad idea,” Corgan countered, "She'll get the wrong message. She'll think that there still is a chance to seduce you. Take my advice. Keep away from her."

Victor looked at him for a moment. “She’s not as smart as she thinks she is, sir. If she stays where she is, then I’m her direct supervisor, and there are regulations that prohibit relationships of the sort she wants in that situation.”

James sighed, as if he was constantly pounding on a brick wall, "Then may I counter that your instincts about her are as wonky as a refurbished Klingon deflector dish? Look, if you constantly keep her around... she will think that you are attracted to her. It is not enough to ignore her... for she will see that as typical male indifference hiding certain attraction. You have to get rid of her, saying that you want her gone, gone, gone!"

“Sir,” Victor asked tonelessly, “I’ve already done that. If I explain it to her again with more force, you will need to confine me for trial. Better to just keep her where I can see her, and don’t need to wonder what she’s doing.”

"Aye..." James sighed in futility, "Just go to sickbay and find out about that lung, and report to me afterwards. From there we can decide what to do next. But as for that woman... it's not enough to tell her no. Do you have a girlfriend yourself? If that's the case... the rumor mill says you have someone... get her help. She'll know better than I."

“No sir, no girlfriend. You better than most ought to know that the rumor mill doesn’t always get things correctly.” The turbolift slowed and stopped. “I’ll have the examining physician transmit you a copy of his findings, sir. Unless you object, I’ll ask to be seen by one of the Vulcan physicians to prevent any claims that I intimidated them into making the report say what I wanted it to.”

“No sir, no girlfriend. You better than most ought to know that the rumor mill doesn’t always get things correctly.” The turbolift slowed and stopped. “I’ll have the examining physician transmit you a copy of his findings, sir. Unless you object, I’ll ask to be seen by one of the Vulcan physicians to prevent any claims that I intimidated them into making the report say what I wanted it to.”

"Ugh." Corgan grimaced. He couldn't tell whether or not Krieghoff was being sarcastic, and his chagrin showed as much. Matters didn't help with a potential stalker, which Krieghoff wanted to track (and thereby throw out all common sense). Corgan let it all slide. He had enough of everyone else's personal dealings, "No, any doctor that can wave a tricorder at your chest area will do. We'll go from there after that. And while you're at it, could you make a report about the events leading to the transplant for myself and the captain, in the best detail you can possibly make it?"

Victor stepped into the door of the lift car and kept it from closing. “I’ll do my best, sir, but there were agreements of… confidentiality… made that mean there well be things left out of the report. Not unknown for operations of this sort, I expect, but since this was my first one, that’s only a suspicion. I will include everything that I am able to, and get it to you and the Captain as soon as I can.”

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Get to sickbay. That's an order."

OOC: Just an update on Nara's background and an update on the planet of Sakaria

"Returns & Changes"

Upon hearing about the truce on Sakaria and the fact that since Sakaria had joined the Federation as a protectorate, Gary was asked to come back to serve Starfleet. He was now back in uniform being a Lt. Commander in Sciences, specializing in Anthropology. He was given a choice of assignments, and he had chosen a dig somewhere on an Andorian moon.

Allas was also asked to return, but was granted an ambassador role on Sakaria for the Federation so she can continue her counseling with the victims of the war and trying to keep good public relations about the Federation and console any fears of the coming change. Or the fact that there wouldn't be much change at all. Basically, Sakaria wouldn't be involved in Federation politics, therefore leaving the Federation our of their's. It would not even be noticed unless they were attacked. It was slowly being accepted as a good thing and paranoia of being "ruled" by the Federation were declining.

Nara was sent a note about this, but knowing her, had yet to see it. They had gotten a couple notes about her little Trill charge, and though it perplexed them how Nara seemed determined to keep a child, Allas seemed somewhat proud that Nara did, in fact, possess motherly impulses.

"Surfacing Fears"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineering

With Ensign James Dermot, Security (NPC)

***Shuttlebay***

Being the third shuttle Nara worked on, things were going pretty swiftly. Her shift ended a few minutes ago, but she wanted to do this one last shuttle before she left. After getting permission, she went back to work. It shouldn't take long at all.

***Fifteen Minutes Later***

"Come on!" She growled at the console. She had reconfigured it for the fifth time and still the scans showed it was spiking energy levels to the shields. This was not a good thing. Not at all. Especially considering what they were likely getting themselves into.

On the upper deck at the back of the shuttlebay, a man slightly jumped. He was confused a moment, but then remembered there was an engineer working on the shuttles. He pushed a button, "Comm's on."

It was Nara's turn to be surprised. She peeked her head out the open door and seeing a man waving at her, she waved back as she ducked back into the shuttle. Blushing, she said, "Sorry." She pressed a button to turn it to manual.

[No problem. Why are you working so late anyway? I thought shuttle maintenance was only during one shift a day.]

Nara considered not answering him as she glared at the console thinking of something to input, but decided to be nice. She pressed the button, "Wanted to get one more done. Didn't expect it to be causing me problems."

She let the button go, and waited for an answer. She shrugged after a few seconds. She was waiting for the diagnostic results after she ran some new numbers in.

"Maybe I can help."

She turned sharply. He was wearing a gold uniform like hers, but if he were the man on the upper deck, he was likely a member of security on shuttle duty. It suddenly hit her they were alone in the shuttlebay. It was fine as long as he was far away, but now he was peeking his head into the shuttle. She gulped trying to be calm and nice, "Know anything about shields?"

He frowned, "Only how to raise and lower them."

She nodded and turned back to work. She stiffened as she heard his steps come closer. Almost without thinking, she stumbled as she jumped up and looked at him. "I.I got this."

He looked concerned, "What's wrong?"

She glanced around and saw where her toolkit was as she put some loose hair behind her ear, "Nothing, I." He had stepped closer and she was losing it pretty much. She had enough sense to walk, not run toward the open door and step out and put on an act as if looking for something in the toolbag outside the shuttle.

He stepped out of the shuttle watching her, wondering what got her so jumpy. "I'm Ensign Dermot, by the way."

Nara looked over to him, "Lt. junior grade Roswell." She stood and tried to catch her breath wishing he would go away.

He looked confused and hurt, "You're acting like I'm Victor Krieghoff or something. I'll go back up and leave you alone."

She watched him leave before wincing and calling after him, "I'm sorry." He turned to see if she would explain, which she started to, "It's just." but stopped shrugging not sure what to say.

But he knew. His sister acted the same way for years after she was attacked. He smiled reassuredly, "I understand. I'll stay up there and I promise not to let anyone else come in without your knowledge."

Nara tilted her head wondering HOW he understood. She smiled and nodded, "Thanks."

She went back in the shuttle suddenly wanting to cry. Could there ever be a time when a strange man could approach her and she NOT freak out. There was the healthy cautious fear, but her fear gripped her in cold hands, chasing all reason and sense out of her mind. As if she expected every man to do what Professor Marks had done.

"Laying Down the Gauntlet."

By 2nd Lieutenant Branwen London Furies XO and Chief Psychologist

& Ensign G'Bat'ea Tactical Officer

Branwen was walking along the corridors of the ship, deep in thought. She was still trying to figure out her duties. It was not easy falling under two department heads. Actually falling under two branches of the military.

She didn't have herself in check as well as she had usually. So when she rounded a corner and looked into a very alien face. Lieutenant London let out a tiny yelp.

G'Bat'ea frowned down at the young woman who had almost ran into him, he sensed a little fear in her features before it quickly withdrew under a well-practised masquerade of calm. It was best not to frighten her any further by insisting she watched where she was going. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." His voice, though soft as he could muster it, was still deep and throaty.

"You didn't frighten me, I am a marine." Branwen's voice was just a little too high to ring true. "It's just, it's just I have never met somebody like you before."

"I am Nausicaan." G'Bat'ea cocked his head a little in curiosity, normally his was one of the races carrying a warning at Federation Academies. "There are few of us in Starfleet, my name is G'Bat'ea." He extended his hand in the learned greeting of Federation humanoids.

After only a slight hesitation Branwen shook it. "You are impressive, I have only seen your people on pictures before. I am Branwen London by the way. Marine xo and staff psychologist." She smiled.

G'Bat'ea released her hand from the firm shake and involuntarily snarled a little. He was not a big fan of Starfleet Marines, they were often over-confident, arrogant risk-takers. "It is...nice to meet you."

"Your body language says different." It just came out and Branwen blushed. "I am so sorry, I am such a blabbermouth."

"No," G'Bat'ea corrected with a light smirk. "You are a psychologist - it is almost as bad!"

"Don't worry, I only shrink marines. Or almost only." It was still not completely clear where her boundaries lay. "So you don't have to be frightened of me." The much smaller woman said.

G'Bat'ea growled again, and eyed the woman cautiously. Psychologists were unheard of in the Nausicaan military, hell, they were almost unheard of in Nausicaan society. "Psycho-analysis does not scare me, *counsellor*." He did the best to keep the distaste from his gruff voice.

"Oh dear, I am saying completely the wrong things am I not." A nervous giggle escaped her. "I am so sorry. Maybe I should stop talking now."

G'Bat'ea shook his head, what was funny? "Perhaps..." He was about to walk away but then something brought him back to the lessons his superiors had insisted he take in ettiquette, something he had found distasteful but it did have its uses. "...Or perhaps we should start over?" He turned back to the counsellor with a neutral expression.

Branwen now gave him a very grateful smile. "I would like that." She held out her hand, human style. "Hello, I am second Lieutenant Branwen London, pleased to meet you."

G'Bat'ea took her hand in a gentle grip for a Nausicaan - he had learnt that a firm grip could land someone in sickbay. "I am Ensign G'Bat'ea, new edition to the tactical department of the Galaxy."

"Nice to meet you. So tell me, what do you like to do for fun?" Branwen asked him.

G'Bat'ea had never been too great at 'small-talk' but he did attempt to hold his own. "I practise martial arts of different forms and I also enjoy reading up on tactics and military history."

"Nice hobbies. Maybe we can work out some one day soon. As a marine I have to stay in shape. Especially as they don't all take me seriously. So I have to go to the gym everyday." She chatted.

"Gymnasiums often provide unreal scenarios I find. It is better to train in a realistic environment using those muscle groups that you will be required to use in your job function." It sounded like a piece of work right out of a

Klingon military text, however it accurately reflected the views G'Bat'ea held on modern gymnasiums and their equipment. "However, working out in the martial arts might prove interesting with a partner?"

"Sure. We can teach each other some cultural techniques. I am always in for learning new things." She said excited.

"And perhaps you could teach me why marines are supposed to be respected as a military force." The Nausicaan let the statement hang in the air half-challenging.

"OOOooooOOOOhhhh. A challenge! You bet you, I will show you, naval guy." Branwen was laughing.

G'Bat'ea snarled at the small woman. "I doubt it, marine."

"You will be surprised." She grinned.

"Perhaps...Shall we say tomorrow at 0900?" G'Bat'ea was eager to see if the woman was deceptively strong or just deceptively deluded.

"Perfect." She said. "I will be there."

"Until then, Lieutenant." G'Bat'ea gave her a curt nod.

"You bet you." Branwen said grinning, she was really looking forward to it.

With that G'Bat'ea continued on his way, thinking of exactly what kind of fighting this woman would display.

"The Sword in the City of Light"

Fleet Admiral Irene 'The Sword' deMercereau,
Commanding Officer, 12th Fleet/Breen Sector

----

"I asked her if she was sure, and she looked me in the eye and winked. I'll never forget what she said. "I don't know what will happen, but we're going to find out." And she just stood up and did it, like it was nothing. That's when they started calling her 'The Sword'."

~Excerpt from... "I Was There: Memories of Federation Day 2382" Chapter 5, Admiral Emily Alexander

----

****

Starfleet Base, Paris, Earth

The power was more or less out at the Palais de la Concorde. The seat of the Federation government was crippled by the destruction of a set of nearby power relay stations at the hands of angry mods protesting after the revelation of the Battle of Havras. Backup generators had kicked in throughout the Palais complex, but were severely overtaxed by the demands of the preparations for Federation Day.

Thus, the transporter stations weren't working, and given the nature of the compound, transport inhibitors blocked out any incoming transporter beams that weren't received by the Palais' own transporter rooms.

So it was that Fleet Admiral Irene deMercereau, master of the 12th Fleet and commander of Federation forces in the Breen Sector, was being driven to the Palais. She'd beamed down at the Starfleet Installation in Paris, which was still operational, and signed out a pair of hovercars to take her to the Palais de la Concorde.

With the Palais located within striking distance, when FNS broadcast the news about the Battle of Havras all of the mobs that had spawned had headed for the Palais to protest, leaving the Starfleet installation untouched.

As her motorcade passed through the city, Irene gradually grew quiet. Normally a lively and talkative woman, deMercereau was appalled by what she was seeing. Burning hovercars, broken windows. It was rioting on a grand scale, and it all seemed to be leading up to the Palais.

"Driver," she called, leaning up into the front seat to speak to hovercar driver from the Paris base. "I need you to take us to the Palais as fast as you can. With this mess on our hands, we need to be there yesterday."

"Yes, ma'am."

She leaned back and turned to her Chief of Staff, Commodore Emily Alexander. "Emily, what's happening here? This doesn't look like a people that are preparing to celebrate the birth of the Federation."

"I just received a message from Vice Admiral Schezar," the young administrator replied, then read from her PADD. "Irene. Just finished watching FNS. Battle of Havras coverup blown wide open. Gravlok's going to shit a brick. Bacco is worried. Best get down there. She'll be needing an advisor who isn't Ross. Don't ask why. Danielle."

"An advisor who isn't Ross... Why is it that whenever there's a crisis, nobody wants to trust Bill?" deMercereau asked rhetorically. Nobody had the answer, but they all knew the drill. When Starbase One had fallen to agents of the Breen/Hydran/T'Kith'Kin Alliance, she had been the one that was called. Back when Naresh Raheem was threatening to call for Ross' resignation. So now it was time for Raheem's "Old Gray Mare", a misnomer if there ever was one, to come to the aid of the Federation President again.

It seemed that Irene deMercereau's vacation from Starbase 447 just wasn't meant to be. The motorcade sped up and hurried on toward the Palais.

****

The North Gate,
Palais de la Concorde,
Paris

They arrived a few minutes later, and the motorcade had to slow to nearly a stop, blocked by the endless crowd that surrounded the North Gate to the Palais de la Concorde. Irene frowned as they slowly moved through the mob. The sullen faces, full of shock and betrayal at the news that they'd been lied to, surrounded her, and she suddenly felt very small.

These were the people she'd sworn to defend. To serve and protect. And here they looked on her with suspicion and mistrust. She'd never been happy with Gravlok's decision, and now his paranoia were coming back to haunt the Federation. Something had to be done, before the hundreds of years of work that had gone into the Federation were washed away in hours.

Tearing her eyes away from the crowd, Irene turned her thoughts over in her head. Lost in thought, she was startled when Ensign zh'Alchianna, her security detail commander, tapped her on the shoulder. "Admiral, we've reached the gate... What should be do?"

Normally they would pass through and escape the streets. Tonight, however, was nothing like normal. There was no way they could pass through the gate without letting the angry, violent mob into the grounds, and endangering the Federation Council and government.

Instead of the victor of Havras, she would become the destroyer of the Federation, all because of something as simple as a gate.

Irene deMercereau wasn't about to allow this. If she could win at Havras, outnumbered three to one, then she could salvage this.

"Stop the car, Sergeant... I'm sorry, what was your name?" she asked the driver, a Tellarite. Her mind, sharp as ever, had hit upon a desperate plan. It was going to take a lot of luck.

"Sergeant Darnosk, ma'am," the driver said, eyes still locked on the gate. deMercereau could almost see the man's fear of the crowd, it was so evident. "We're stopped."

"Sora," she said, turning to face the young Andorian. "Take the detail and establish a close perimeter around the car. I'm going to speak."

"Speak, ma'am?" the frightened young woman asked. This was her first assignment out of the Academy, and she hadn't been prepared to face what was happening.

"I'm going to talk to the crowd, Sora," deMercereau explained. The young woman nodded once, quickly, and then darted from the car. Moments later, Sora zh'Alchainna and her four men-at-arms from the front car had moved the crowd back and established a perimeter around deMercereau's vehicle.

"Are you sure about this, Irene?' Emily Alexander asked as the top began to fold down on the convertible hovercar, opening the backseat to world around it.

deMercereau glanced at Alexander, just before she stood up to face the gathered crowd. Commodore Emily Alexander, for as long as she lived, would never forget what Irene whispered to her. "I don't know what will happen, but we're going to find out."

Then Irene deMercereau stood up and climbed onto the back of the car. She cut an impressive figure in the tailor made uniform, an extravagant gift from an eccentric friend with a taste for display, Captain Juan Holmes. The uniform was not standard issue. A variant of the Federation Admiral's Dress Uniform, deMercereau wore a stark white uniform with golden epaulets, jacket monozippered in front, leading up to a neck covering jacket collar. On her chest were the dozens of commendations that she'd received, covering an entire ribbonboard over her right breast. On her collar shone the five boxed pips of a full Fleet Admiral. On her cuffs and pants legs was the red braid of a Knight of the Red Branch, an organization from Corvallis Colony of which she'd been made an honorary member.

From the pavement, Sora handed her a microphone pin, patched into the sound system of the vehicle. deMercereau thanked her and pinned the device to her collar, opposite the pips. Then her eyes lifted, and she was speaking to hundreds of enraged citizens.

"Citizens if the United Federation of Planets," she began, addressing the crowd. It seemed as good a way as any. "I am Fleet Admiral Irene deMercereau, Commanding Officer of the 12th Fleet."

"I understand your anger. I know that you feel betrayed." Her voice rang out over the din of the angry mob. One young man, holding a baseball bat inches from the feet of one of her men-at-arms, shouted back.

"How could you? You're Starfleet!"

"How?" she answered, speaking now almost directly to the man with the bat. "I commanded the fleet at Havras. Those were my officers and crews that died in that battle, struggling to overcome three to one odds. I'm angry too. I've felt betrayed by members of the Council for 11 months now."

"When Starfleet Officers graduate from the Academy, we all take an oath," she continued, gesturing back at the Paris Base and then at the Palais. "When Federation politicians enter office, they too take an oath. In both cases, that oath includes this phrase: To serve and protect the ideals and people of the United Federation of Planets."

"11 months ago, members of the Federation Council lead by Councilor Gravlok broke their oaths and concealed from you the truth of the Battle at Havras," she said, working to shift the anger of the crowd onto specific targets. Focused anger was always better than blind anger. "Your sons and daughters died to protect this Federation. They sold their lives dearly when it came time to hold back that invasion force."

"They would be ashamed to see what the Council has done with their memories for 11 months," she said, "And they would want you to act, and to make it known that you won't stand for that insult. But not like this. Not in a disorganized mob."

"They wouldn't want you to dismantle to government that they fought and died to protect," deMercereau said, her arms again making a sweeping gesture to the Palais. "What they would want you to do is remain vigilant. Find out the facts of what's happening. Get on the holonet and search for answers. Take everything you hear and read with a grain of salt. Learn to trust but verify."

"And when elections for Council roll around, know which way your representative voted when Gravlok's Havras Information Act was on the floor of the Council," deMercereau began to close up her speech. Already, the crowd seemed calmer. "You don't have to let politicians who you don't agree with run your lives. If they don't represent you how you want to be represented, then don't let them represent you at all."

"If you do that, then I promise you that I will continue to serve and protect you, the people that make this Federation strong, as long as I live," she continued, then looked down at Ensign zh'Alchianna. Holding a finger over her microphone for a moment, she whispered to her security detail commander. "Get me a copy the UFP Charter. The nice one in my briefcase would be best."

The ensign disappeared and returned a moment later with the item.

"Now, before you all today, I'm going to reaffirm my Starfleet Oath, something I haven't done in the 46 years since I took it," she said, motioning for Sora to hold her metal encased copy of the UFP Charter so that she could rest her left hand on it. Raising her right into the air, she spoke the words that she's spoken 46 years previously, after graduating from Starfleet Academy.

"I, Irene deMercereau, having entered as an officer into the Starfleet of the United Federation of Planets, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the principles and ideals of the Articles of the Federation, and the United Federation of Planets herself, against all enemies, foreign or domestic, that I will further the causes of knowledge and freedom across the Galaxy, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservations or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which I am about to enter; I do so solemnly swear."

The crowd was silent until her hand fell back to her side and the UFP Charter was returned to her briefcase. Then the young man with the baseball bat, looking chastened, spoke up.

"What do we do now?"

"I can't tell you what you should do, only what I *would* do. I would go home, and keep an eye on the news. I would wait for President Bacco to make a press release on this subject," deMercereau suggested, "Nanietta Bacco is a good woman, who serves her people. Until I see any reason to lead me to believe otherwise, I'm going to stand beside her. I hope you all will too."

With that, she was finished, and she stepped down onto the pavement next to Sora zh'Alchianna. The Andorian woman shifted her weight back and forth, still tense.

The silence was deafening, and for a moment, Irene wondered if her plan had backfired. She stood and faced the crowd, watching for any sign of a decision.

It was the man with the bat who turned the tide. After getting two of his friends to lift him up on their shoulders, the de facto ringleader of the mob began his own brief speech to his fellow citizens.

"Mes amies! You know that I was the most vocal of you. I lead us here today, thinking that to start over, to wash away this betrayal, and the government that performed it, would not be such a bad thing," the young man said, raising his bat into the air for attention. "But, after hearing the words of this woman, this hero of the Federation, I am realizing that I was wrong."

"We have acted too hastily, mes amies. We must do as she suggests, and seek peace for today, and a new path for tomorrow," he continued, "If not, then what have we learned in the two hundred-odd years since the Federation was founded? Certainly, we are dissatisfied with what has happened, yes. But are we really prepared to destroy that which we were all, I admit, ready to celebrate tomorrow. I think not."

"This officer," he gestured at deMercereau, who felt the eyes of the world on her in that moment. "This officer's dedication to this Federation saved us from an invasion fleet. We should not punish this woman, this Sword of the People of the Federation, but destroying what she fought to save. Let us not submit, then, to the lies that we have been told. But let us go home, mes amies, and live as friends again."

Suddenly, a cheer went, up catching them all off guard. deMercereau could see her men-at-arms tensing up at the spontaneous explosion of noise from the utter silence. At first the noise was too disjointed to be heard, but within a minute, it solidified...

"THE SWORD. THE SWORD. THE SWORD. THE SWORD."

It took another minute for Irene deMercereau to realize that they were cheering her. It went on like that for five more minutes before she could work up the nerve to get back onto the hovercar and speak again.

"My friends, my fellow citizens," deMercereau raised both hands in front of her, motioning for silence. "I will be your sword. I will be your shield. But please, go home to your families. Celebrate Federation Day tomorrow. Show the Council that you love the Federation, despite what they are doing to it. Please, I beg you. Go home."

Within minutes, the crowd has mostly dispersed. deMercereau shook a few hands, and exchanged communications addresses with the young man with the bat, a member of a local baseball team. Finally, half an hour after it had all begun, she passed through the gates, watched them close behind her, and her motorcade approached the Palais.

It was only then that she remembered to breath.

By the time she got out of her first meeting with President Bacco, the evening news were hailing her as 'The Sword', and crediting her with single handedly maintaining peace in Paris. Though many reporters tried to contact her temporary office on the USS Resolute, they got but one reply.

"I did my duty. I served my people."

“Dust to Dust”

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

Primary character: Dhanishta Eshe (APC)

Kerenza Eshe

Tanson Eshe

And

Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe

****

“Mom. Mom I love you.” Dhani whimpered to the empty space where the tear 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.

****

With in the storm cloud lays dust.

As everything is sprung from dust, so it returns.

Life is an endless sea of choices, followed by consequences, reactions and actions that lead us to this place.

We all know that we are to end up here.

But somehow it is always a surprise. No one is ever ready for the transition. No one is ever prepared to say good bye.

How is it that we all know what the end is… and yet still never expect it to happen to us?

None of us are ever ready – Fact.

****

Each tiny grain of sand shimmered within the cloud. They refracted a million tones of colour, each like a tiny rainbow; they glimmered and swirled around her, bathing her in their light. Memories of the past sprung forth;

Dhanishtas childhood; her mothers face looking down at her with tired eyes, cradling her first born….

Her sisters’ hand in hers, running through a field of sand, rolling down the dunes…

Terrible night terrors that consumed her. Nightmares of past lives. No! They were *memories* of past lives; her mothers’ life and the life of her victims. Each night a terrible death awaited the small child, each night she *remembered* the torment her mothers former self had bestowed to her victims. She remembered the feelings of euphoria that her mother had felt when she killed another. And she could remember what it was like to die. A million times over. Each one different from the next, each one just as terrifying as the first.

The hospitals and the doctors; the white coats! Being bound to tables, writhing in pain as another experiment began, ended and began again.

Solitary confinement; the sound of silence.

Retreating into a world of peace.

Sark!

Sark…

His hands, warm and comforting. His mind, a calm serene place. She felt contentment in his arms. She would have followed him to the end of the world and back. He didn’t even need to ask. He had restored her trust in humanity. He had restored her.

Trill, the symbiosis commission. Training and tests…

And so the memories continued, through her time on QonoS and beyond, to her training at the academy, falling in love with Chang, the pain of loosing friends, the war, her service on the Galaxy…

It all flowed past in a graphic transformation of colour. Dhanishta watched mesmerised as her vision blurred and the images faded.

****

The door opened and Tanson stepped shakily into the room, “Kizzy?” he called out.

Kerenza looked up from the window seat she had retreated to. Staring numbly at her own reflection, and occasionally out at the people who walked about in the gardens. She envied them. Their lives hadn’t changed a bit. And her world had collapsed. She couldn’t stand to see her daughter die. But still she couldn’t leave. It was some morbid fascination.

Kala stepped in beside her father, each leaning on the other for support. She looked over to her mother and half smiled in greeting.

Kerenzas tear streaked face stared back with hollow eyes.

“Mom?” Kala asked cautiously. For a moment she wondered if her mother hated her. And maybe her mother was wondering the same thing. Kala didn’t agree with them, she knew that Dhani would wake up… she cast an uneasy glance to Dhanis body… she had to wake up. She was going to, wasn’t she?

Tanson squeezed Kala’s shoulder, almost as if he knew what was going through his daughters mind. Kala looked up at him and smiled as he leant over and kissed her forehead.

There seemed to be a stale mate in the room. Neither of the women left in his life knew how to bridge it. So he was going to try. Leaving Kalas’ side he walked across the divide to Kerenza. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her into a tight embrace. Her body was stiff in his arms.

He hugged her tighter, not willing to let go until she relaxed. All of them were stressed, tense and distraught. He felt it his duty to somehow make everything alright. Although he knew that he couldn’t. Nothing would ever make it alright. Nothing could bring his little girl back. But he would be dammed if this tore them apart.

Kerenza stared past him to Chandrakala. Her dark eyes narrowing in on her now, only child. A tear rolled down her face and she turned her head towards her husbands’ chest. Burying herself into him, she too wished this was a bad dream. She wished she could escape it and wake up. She wished so many things at this point.

She could feel her icy exterior breaking down. And she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to cry and feel depressed. She wanted to be strong. She always had been. Even when she heard her sentence; to be stripped of her telepathic abilities, the worst punishment a Betazoid could undergo, and be exiled from her home planet. Even then she didn’t cry. She never had the chance to say good bye to her mother, her father… to anyone. And still she hadn’t cried. She had been strong throughout her life, throughout her exile and her new life with Tanson. But now she couldn’t. She couldn’t hold in the tears or the pain that pummelled through her chest. She didn’t know how to be strong through this.

And she had never asked for help, ever. Never needed anyone for support, not even Tanson. If he left her, her world wouldn’t crumble. She wouldn’t sit and mope like she had seen others do. She would get up and get on with life.

But then she had never had lost anyone she loved.

Yes, she loved Tanson. But it wasn’t the love you read about in books. There was never the sudden rush of feelings that were, lets face it, just chemical reactions and hormones. She had picked a man who she had found attractive; who she had common interests with, who she liked and respected and could see herself growing old with, a man who would make a good husband and a good father.

And with this man she had had two beautiful children. And it was them that taught her how to love, how to feel, how to be responsible, caring and basically a mother. She wasn’t prepared for the emotions that they invoked in her. Wasn’t prepared for the rush of feelings she had when she looked down at her dying baby. And now she questioned her actions. Was she a bad mother?

She looked up at Chandrakala, her face so similar to her sisters. She looked lost, frightened and hurt. Kerenza had a bond with Kala, unlike the one she had with Dhani. When Kala was little she would curl up with her. Kerenza would read her stories and play with her. Brush her hair before bed. If she fell down Kerenza would pick her up and hold her. Hug her until she stopped crying. Dhani on the other hand had always shied away from her, retreated from her mothers grasp as if she were evil. Kerenza never realised how much her daughters’ reaction towards her hurt, until now.

She looked over at Dhanis pale face and withered features. She knew why Dhani retreated from her. And she knew why she never showed her first born love.

Dhanishta knew what she had done. She knew what Kerenza was. Even though the Vulcan had distorted Dhanis mind, covered up her memories, and wiped her knowledge of her mothers past, still, Kerenza couldn’t bare to be near someone that knew. It was Kerenza that held Dhani at arms length. Her own daughter she pushed away. And now she had to watch her die. Without her daughter ever knowing that it wasn’t her fault. That her mother *did* love her. And that she was sorry. A fitting punishment for a murder, Kerenza mused.

And now Kala stood before her, her pain as clear as the shirt on her back. And Kerenza knew that she should run to Kala’s aid. Hold her and make the pain stop. She knew that she couldn’t. But she could try. She could show Kala love.

But she couldn’t bear to be rejected by her. She knew that Kala probably hated her, and she deserved that hate. But she couldn’t stand it. And part of her didn’t want to acknowledge it, didn’t want to acknowledge Kala, didn’t want to add to the pain that flowed through her like a river unrelenting and unyielding.

“Go? With Love?”

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

Primary characters: Dhanishta Eshe (APC)

Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe (APC)

Tanson Eshe (APC)

Krenza Eshe (APC)

Dhanishta knew what she had done. She knew what Kerenza was. Even though the Vulcan had distorted Dhanis mind, covered up her memories, and wiped her knowledge of her mothers past, still, Kerenza couldn’t bare to be near someone that knew. It was Kerenza that held Dhani at arms length. Her own daughter she pushed away. And now she had to watch her die. Without her daughter ever knowing that it wasn’t her fault. That her mother *did* love her. And that she was sorry. A fitting punishment for a murder, Kerenza mused.

And now Kala stood before her, her pain as clear as the shirt on her back. And Kerenza knew that she should run to Kala’s aid. Hold her and make the pain stop. She knew that she couldn’t. But she could try. She could show Kala love.

But she couldn’t bear to be rejected by her. She knew that Kala probably hated her, and she deserved that hate. But she couldn’t stand it. And part of her didn’t want to acknowledge it, didn’t want to acknowledge Kala, didn’t want to add to the pain that flowed through her like a river unrelenting and unyielding.

****

From within the memories Dhanishta screamed. With all the breath she had, with any breath she could find, she opened her mouth and screamed.

She wasn’t ready to let go.

She was going to fight this.

Fight the pain, fight the torment, fight the memories. She had to. She had to tell her mother that she loved her.

It was her dying wish, and dam it she was going to get it!

As if the cloud resented her determination it began to throw random images at her. A collection of distorted memories form her subconscious mind. The things she heard from within the coma began to play out before her like a midfield of treachery.

The voices spoke out of context. Their emotion and pain removed. The pattern changed; the conversation a disjointed conglomeration of the original. Twisted into something it wasn’t. Into something that never happened. The Dust talking….

“We are going to switch off the ventilator.”

“She will die without it.”

“We know that.”

Inside Dhanishta turned with the sound of their voices, so cold and empty. She shuddered. She heard her mothers’ voice; she knew it so well, detached and harsh.

“But she can’t breathe with out it.”

“We know that.”

Again the emotion sliced through her. She didn’t realise that it was death talking. Taking the memories of voices and playing them out in the order it pleased. The order it wanted her to hear so she would leave with him…

“If you turn off the machine, Dhani will die.”

“We know that.”

The pain filled her. Her worst fears being realised. Her mother never did love her… she never cared. The emptiness in her voice *proved* that.

“YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HER?”

“Dhanis’ brain activity ceased a week ago.”

“She has already gone.”

“NO!” Dhanishta cried, “I’m not gone. I’m still here, I can hear you…” she quivered inside. The thought flittered through her mind to let go now. There was no point in fighting this. Not if this was the way her mother felt. She didn’t care if Dhani lived or died. She never had.

“When are you going to let her go Kala?”

“Kala, all that is keeping her alive are the machines. There is nothing else left. You have spoken to the doctors…you know this.”

“Let her go with love, Kala.”

“Let her go with love.”

Dhani screamed with pain as the voice continued. Repeating, hammering home the feelings that she had always had. The feelings that kept her from running to her mother for comfort. The feeling that hurt her… every day. Inside she cried she wailed and screamed.

“Let her go with love.”

Collapsing in a fit of tears as death repeated those words with a coldness that shot to Dhanis core. “I don’t want to go.” Dhani cried out. “I don’t want to go, with love or anything. MOM I love you… don’t go, don’t leave me PLEASE… MOM….MOM!

“Let her go with love.”

Until as last she stilled inside the dust. Her mother never loved her. She knew that now. She felt it. And it didn’t matter. Because *she* loved *her*. And no matter what she was going to tell her that…..

****

Kalas lip began to wobble as she stared at her mother and her father. Both locked in an embrace, both a comfort to each other. And she stood alone. So alone. She ached for her sister. She didn’t hate her mother, she couldn’t.

~MOM, I love you.~

The words tore through Kerenzas mind. She looked up; her tear shot eyes stared at Kala. For a moment anger flowed through her. Angry that she could not talk to her children with telepathy, angry that she had not been able to show her children how to use their gifts, that she could not pass down the knowledge that she possessed. Angry that she no longer possessed that talent. She hadn’t heard anyone’s thoughts for years. She had been turned into a mute and her daughter knew that. Knew that she didn’t possess those talents, knew that she couldn’t respond… so why was she using it now? And what’s more important after all these how had she heard her?

Her transformation to a mute didn’t just shut down her ability to talk telepathically, but also her ability to hear telepathic communications. No one could sense her emotions. Other Betazoids shied away from her because they could feel nothing from her. She was a walking black hole of nothing.

She stared at Kala.

Her eyes began to well, her anger disappearing. It didn’t matter how. Kala still loved her.

Kala could feel her mothers’ eyes on her. She stared down at the floor. She knew that her outburst before had hurt her mother. But surely she could understand. Dhani wasn’t just her sister, she was her twin. A tear slipped down her cheek. She wanted to leave and never come back. If her mother hated her then she hated her too. She *killed* her sister and took her away from her for ever. And she had forgiven her! Kala knew that it was Kerenza that had decided to pull the switch. Tanson would have never thought of it. Dhani was his favourite after all.

Dhani was the one that was going to be joined and uphold the family name. Dhani was the one that was going to write history. It wasn’t that Kala didn’t care for her culture, it was just that…. Dhani had, and her father did. He wanted so much to be joined himself. And Dhani had tried out, followed in his footsteps… Kala wasn’t about to play copy cat. She felt envious. Envious that her sister held her fathers favour. *She* never got a look in.

And now her mother had turned against her. Kala shook her head. *She* was the one that had heard Dhanis call, not her mother or her father. *She* was the one that ran to her sisters bedside and stayed there. *She* was the one that had almost died trying to rescue her sister from her own mind. *She* was the one who had been here for six months, waiting and praying. Never giving up hope. And now they come and …..

Her train of though was interrupted as she saw Kerenzas outstretched hand…

“Plots and Pregnancy”

James was feeling especially proud of himself today.

It was day one of his promotion to Commander, and the afterglow of such a prestigious promotion was still upon him like a warm halo, refusing to let go. The new full pip on his collar shone as brightly as his mood. Those who crossed the newly minted Commander could have swore they never saw the normally dour and foul mouthed monstrosity of a human as being so cheery. Even his politeness, always a courtesy to those who didn't actively annoy him, had less of a strained, obligated feel and more of a genuine, kind motivation to it.

James Lionel Corgan, Commander and Security Chief of the USS Galaxy, was on top of the galaxy. He had a new rank, a new girl, and the feeling one got when they knew they did a good job during the past few weeks.

Speaking of being on top of the galaxy, by dogged dumb luck and sheer coincidence that always followed James like the shadow of death, so too was the mistake that nearly kept him as a permanent Lieutenant Commander in exile.

She was a sight not seen on the Galaxy in a few months, and if James had his way, would not be a sight on the ship for years to come.

Not everything could go James' way today.

Captain Atole Tekri had also had a promotion, if a not so recent one - hence her elevation from Sub-Centurion (the last time she was onboard the Galaxy) to being a Captain of the Tal Shiar.

However, unlike James, she had been unable to forget her past experience. Sure, she had enjoyed the company of a number of lovers since returning to Romulus - but none of them could compare to Commander Corgan. She could only hope he felt the same way, but - according to their last conversation over subspace - he didn't. But they hadn't been talking in person back then. If she could talk to him in person, things might turn out different.

So she had come onboard this ship again, with the help of the Rihannusu proconsul. She liked it no more than the last time, and hoped to be off it as quickly as possible with James in tow - or to stay here with James. Either scenario was fine with her.

Today she was wearing a plain, loose-fitting military uniform. It had none of the ornate finery as her usual military clothing, and was certainly nothing like the provocative clothing she had worn last time.

She had elected for loose-fitting clothing because she knew that if she dressed provocatively, it would make her intentions clear to James immediately.

From past experience, she knew that James was rather cowardly when it came to women, and preferred them to be passive rather than dominant. So dressing provocatively would only reek of dangerous seduction, something that would make James run as fast as he could. Her current dress, on the other hand, made her look attractive - but in an almost innocent way.

Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted as she rounded a corner - and ploughed straight into the very man she was looking for. With a surprised gasp, she fell to the floor, panicking when she realised who it was exactly staring down at her with an expression of horror.

"What the blazing afterf**k..." Corgan rasped, his primitive male brain instinctively commanding him to bend down and pick up the young woman he inadvertantly bumped into, only to find that there was a conflict in his own brain's programming.

One command was to help the woman.

The other... run like a lone Jem'Hadar ahead of a battalion of bat'leth weilding Klingons, for if James was correct, this woman was just as effective.

"Ok." James tried to be as rational as possible, while keeping the bubbling anger of seeing Tekri on the Galaxy when she should not have shown up anywhere in the Federation, much less a meter away from him. He was already conjuring up, against his own will, all those times together. The heady, passionate highs, argumentative lows and the sparse areas that counted as in between.

He was looking down at a beauty still, but more reserved than the last time they meet, tempering her wild child image of before into a more innocent damsel.

~"Manipulative! Pure manipulative! She knows i'm a sucker for that!"~ Corgan screamed to himself until the thought ping ponged in his head. He looked away from her charming green eyes and said, "Why the hell did you come back, Tekri? I told you no the last time and I still mean it. Why are you making this harder on yourself?"

"James, I..." she hesitated, looking up at him in what she thought looked like a hopeless expression, before continuing.

"James, I'm sorry for everything. I'd just like to talk, to resolve our feelings for each other. That's all - talk. You've refused to forgive me and I've finally managed to accept that, but I still need to have, as you humans might call it, closure." She lied through her teeth as sweetly as possible, still looking up at him in a kind of helpless way.

"James, I..." she hesitated, looking up at him in what she thought looked like a hopeless expression, before continuing.

"James, I'm sorry for everything. I'd just like to talk, to resolve our feelings for each other. That's all - talk. You've refused to forgive me and I've finally managed to accept that, but I still need to have, as you humans might call it, closure." She lied through her teeth as sweetly as possible, still looking up at him in a kind of helpless way.

James shook his head, "You don't get it, do you?"

"No, I guess I don't," Tekri mumbled.

Corgan was not so kind, but bluntly honest. He said with a voice that quaked like thunder, standing tall and unshakable, "You came to get me back. Your idea of 'closure' is your means to do so, Tekri. You still try to manipulate, still try to twist me around. I just wanted some honesty from you, like I gave to you even though it nearly killed our relationship. Why couldn't you do the same?"

"But James, I love you-"

"No matter." James dismissed her words sharply, "What matters now is what's done is done. You've proven my point that no matter what there will always be mind games between us. I'd rather not have a relationship like that, Atole. We're through, permanently! I told you this on the Galaxy all those months before. My sister told you this when you came to Earth. I told you this over subspace. You didn't need to go all this way, doing God knows what to get back on this ship without being shot on sight, just to have me finally tell you that our relationship is dead, gone, and not coming back!"

Tekri's face twitched as if she had just been punched in the face. She slowly picked herself up on her feet, and looked up at James with an expression of misery.

"Very well, James, I-" Then she lost control of her emotions and did something that he had never seen her do - she abruptly burst into tears, sobbing quietly yet uncontrollably. And this time, it was entirely genuine.

"You veruul!" she screeched, her voice filling with anger, her usual soothing, almost musical inflections replaced with ones of pure rage. At the same time she stabbed an accusing finger at him, just in case everyone in the corridor hadn't already noticed, which they had of course.

"I did everything I could for you, James. I forgave you for everything, yet you couldn't do the same for me!" Even when her face was streaked with tears and sweat, she had lost none of her beauty - in fact, it gave her an almost attractive glistening effect. But her expression was certainly not attractive.

Suddenly the security guard assigned to her arrived, grabbing her forcefully by the arm and dragging her away. Tekri looked back at James one last time, willing him to say something.

"Jesus Christ Henderson, have some respect, will you?" Corgan motioned to the guard harshly, "Let her go. If she is to leave, let her leave by her own will. Don't drag her like a common prisoner."

The security guard did as ordered, releasing Tekri from his grip. Aside from the haphazardous way he was trying to remove Tekri from the scene, which could have caused a broken arm on his part if the enraged, lovelorn female ever had the thought of fighting back (it was noted that Romulans had close to Vulcan strength), James was not angry at his deputy.

In fact, he was not angry at all.

Just very, very exasperated.

Seeing the tear streaked Tekri almost crushed his counterattack, recalling more chivalrous feelings as she stood helpless and vulnerable. Again he was reminded of how unlike any Tal'Shiar he had imagined, being alive and animated instead of being cold and uncaring, a facsimile of life instead of being a real person.

"Go." Corgan said, "Leave this ship at once. Don't make it harder on yourself by trying to get me back. You'll hurt for awhile, as do I, and then you will move on, as I have. Go, get yourself a decent man, one that will take good care of you, love you like you deserve it, one you can be open to without any consequences. Have yourself a good life, something you'll completely miss if you keep pining away for me. Understand?"

"But James," she sobbed. "You don't understand - I'm pregnant, with your child."

"YOU'RE WHAT?!?!" James yelped, quite floored by the stunning piece of news.

"YOU WHAT?!?!" Squeaked a voice from behind Tekri, thereby stopping James from thinking through this new problem even further.

The new presence behind Tekri was significantly shorter, closer to five feet (though slightly taller with antennae). She had glowering, half slit eyes that could phaser through sheet duranium, and once turquoise cheeks that were blushing to a deep blue, than a deeper cobalt.

"Oh shit." Corgan gasped. "Mika, if we could just hear more from Atole about this..."

Chilly as the winters of her home planet (and nearly as hostile), Mika responded in a low, gutteral, unfeminine growl, "Do not Mika me, James, and do not address this green blooded harlet by her first name. How could you impregnate her?!?!"

What James was about to ponder before Mika's interference was the same question. According to James memory, Tekri could not have been pregnant by his hand... or more precisely his loins.

"A question I'd like to ask myself, Tekri." Corgan turned his suspicious glance to the Romulan spy, ignoring Mika's scrutiny for one moment, "My sister would have noted something like that when you visted her. Tell me, and truthfully, how did this happen?"

"It happened with US, James! How else does one get pregnant, by one of your Terran storks?!" Tekri snapped back.

James shook his head, "Do you expect me to fall for that? We humans have used that excuse for eons on each other, and it still doesn't work. Human sperm only lasts 24 hours in the best of conditions! Unless your uterus has its own freezer compartment, I highly doubt that this could happen."

"I have a theory. This tramp is lying." Mika added in, "Either that... or you two meet after your breakup on the Galaxy. I heard your sister's gossip about you James and this does not seem too far fetched of a theory."

"Jesus Christ... one week into the relationship and you're already nagging me like we're married." Corgan hissed back. "We didn't have sex after the relationship ended. Besides, how could I knock her up? I had enough contraceptives in my system to make impotent a targ during mating season!" He turned back to Tekri, "So my theory is that either the doctor f**ked up my medicine and Romulans know how to store and preserve sperm in their bodies for months on end, she's lying, or she impregnated herself by other means. Which is it, Tekri?!"

Tekri's eyeballed Mika with a knife-sharp glare, but chose to let her unabashed rudeness slide.

She shook her head helplessly. "James, how many Rihannusu-Terran children do you know of? I know what human pregnancies are like, but Rihannusu ovaries aren't designed to interact with human sperm. I can go to this ship's sickbay, if you like - and confirm my pregnancy with the doctor. It didn't happen that long after the Galaxy - I was pregnant when I contacted you by subspace, I just didn't know it yet."

"How do I know how this happened?" she demanded, still upset. "Do you think I asked for a pregnancy? Will it be good for my career? I don't think so."

Fortunately, she was in such an emotionally-distressed state that even she couldn't tell which parts of what she had just said was truth and which parts were lies, so it was highly unlikely James could either. In fact, while she knew the idea of James naturally impregnating her after all this time was not particularly plausible, she couldn't remember impregnating herself - she had been in such a poor mental state these past few months, and she had used her Tal Shiar training to repress the memories of when she had hit rock-bottom in the depression stakes. And, as such, her memory was hazy at best of such an event, although she had a sneaky suspicion that it had occurred.

When the doctor on Romulus had told her of the news, she had been quite shocked. But gradually, it was coming back to her piece-by-piece, of how - fuelled by burning rage and an entire bottle of Romulan ale - she had gone to the genetics lab...

But all that was in the back of her mind at the moment, as she released all the tension and sadness she had experienced over the past few months in her continuing flood of tears.

"My parents plan to take care of the child, and allow me to continue my career," Tekri continued. "I would rather take of the child, personally, but my parents refuse to allow a member of the Rihannusu upper-class be brought up by only one parent. However, I came for you for advice, James. It was in error, forgive me."

Seeing this as his cue, the rather insensitive security guard began to lead. Tekri away again - albeit more sensitively this time.

Mika was far removed from any feelings of being sensitive. She piped up with the strength of an enraged Davian hen. "Hey! Are you not supposed to give James proof of your pregnancy or what?!"

"Mika... let her go." James soothed.

"How can you say that?!" Mika, shocked and appauled, backed away from her boyfriend with a look of abhorrent disgust, "I don't care what you two did before. I won't have her in any quad that I form, ever, and with that clear she should go and be out of our lives. But having her walk away in tears while you stand there silently without knowing about a possible child of yours... this is not what I would call responsible."

"So?" James fired back, "It can't be mine. The contraceptive I took stopped sperm at the source. I was shooting blanks while I had sex with her! She could be as fertile as a Vulcan in pon'farr and she still wouldn't get pregnant. Biology still follows a modicum of logic, you know."

"Then we might as well find out..." Mika snarled, "So we can shove her out the airlock without any doubts and get on with our lives."

James thought for a moment, "That... makes sense. Tekri, wait up. We're going to sickbay."

"But..."

"We're going." James said as if to make it final, "We'll find out about the child, gender, race and all, time of conception, and even the slightest bit of evidence of there being any genetic engineering. We can tell if its a test tube baby from a sperm sample. We can even tell if its a DNA sample artificially fused to one of your eggs. Then we'll have this cleared up and we can talk about the child. Ok?"

"Understood." Tekri nodded slowly.

"And Tekri..." James warned, "You better tell me now how this really happened so that we can save ourselves a few hours of waiting, because I know I couldn't impregnate you. You're a Vulcanoid... and we know plenty about their physiology, and nowhere have I heard anything about a Vulcan or a Romulan having a delayed pregnancy. So please just tell me..."

Mika took Tekri aside, and spoke to her in her hushed, whispering, lutelike voice she used in all her diplomatic and charm situations, "You can't shock or anger us anymore. We're past that point. Please, he just wants to know the truth... and so do I."

"The truth is..." Tekri hesitated, not wanting to sound ridiculous, but in the end she opted for no more lies. "The truth is... I don't exactly remember."

Seeing their incredulous faces, Tekri turned to Mika - hoping to strike up some kind of woman-to-woman dialogue.

"Look, Mika, I guess you're with James now, but before... I understand you and James had a somewhat chequered history. How did you feel when he rejected you? I felt so bad that I went on a two week solid drinking binge, and I was so fuelled with rage and Romulan ale that I can't recall anything from that time."

Mika shrugged, ~"When he rejected me on lan'Jep because of that Lieutenant Reece person... I was too busy taking over from my old boss. Threw myself into work."~

"Only that..." Tekri hesitated again, before continuing. "I have a feeling that I did some awful, awful things in that time. The next thing I remember after that is waking in the medical bay of the Omar estate, with the proconsul - father of the Galaxy's esteemed senator - leering over me. He told me his security forces had rescued me from a gutter in Central District, and that I was a liability to the Tal Shiar."

Mika's face fell. ~"Classy,"~ she thought.

"Then when I discovered my pregnancy sometime after, I blackmailed the proconsul any way I could to get myself to see James. Even the doctor who told me I was pregnant seemed mildly repulsed by the idea of a Rihannusu-Terran hybrid. James was the only one I could talk to."

Mika's hard expression softened up, and in her heart she found that the arrogant b*tch that stood between herself and her man could also have redeemable qualities. She was obviously remorseful and lost, and she did want to find James to get help. Was it right to help this woman, or was she deceptive.

Mika decided to tread carefully.

"Ok... we can talk." She replied.

"I'd also like to take this opportunity to apologise to you," Tekri was too weary to keep up her intense dislike of Mika, and gave her a submissive bow of the head. She knew this behaviour was very un-Rihannusu, but these were extreme circumstances.

The sight of a bowed down Romulan only brought the hackles of Mika's neckhairs up on end. ~"If I wasn't already suspicious that she's trying to con us..."

"Fine. Whatever." Mika sighed, "Forget what happened before. Now is more important. Would you please get tested in sickbay and get back to us?"

Tekri nodded, without a word - and the trio headed off to sickbay.

"Good morning ladies!"

2nd Lt Baile, Recon Specialist CO 2nd Platoon, Furies

Master Sergeant Carl Johnson CO NCO, Furies

PFC Franklin "Doughnut" Donut, Infantry, Red One Bravo

PRV Michael J Caboose, Infantry, Blue One Bravo

PRV Khrystyne "Flatline" Carlyle, Medic, Blue Two Alpha

The entire Red Team.

Marine quarters, USS Galaxy

----Lineup. 0330 hours----

The last of Red Two Bravo's members fell into the line, some barely awake. Sergeant Major Furji had, as instructed, drilled Red Alpha and Bravo against each other until 11.30 hours. The same manouvers over and over again. Squad deployment and assault.

The stragglers had hit the bunks at around 0130 hours, expecting a few hours of shuteye until lineup in the morning. Never expect. Anticipate. A golden rule that was easily forgotten. At 0320 hours, Sergeant Major Furji had walked into the barracks, carrying a signalhorn.

At 0325, when still not discovered by the two marines on guard, the Gunny woke up the entire barrack. "RED TEAM. LINEUP IN TWO MINUTES!"

As the last Marine stepped in line Sergeant Major Furji watched them closely. "Caboose! Don't drag... Flatline, get in line or start scrubbing the barracks!" he walked up and down the line like a hungry lion, watching the barely awake marines. Furji watched them tuck in their shirts and tie their shoelaces before the last man had arrived. "This has to be the saddest sight I've seen since Corps let you sorry apes graduate."

Furji stopped in front of Donut, who's nose was taped down after being broken the day before. His face was a display of colors, ranging from pale to deep purple. "You call that standing attention, girl? My dead grandma got more posture than you! Straighten that back and suck that bag of a stomach in before you hurt someone!"

The Marine gymnasium was poorly lit, making it very hard for the confused and stressed Marines to notice there were more people watching them. Their attention was on Furji as he tore each and every one of them a new hole. "You call your self Marines?! By God! You sorry lot proves that God, in His infinite wisdom does have a sense of humor!" When his declaration was met with silence he looked at all of them with what he and Johnson called 'the Warface'

"Did I hear a 'Sergeant Major, Yes, Sergeant Major'?" he bellowed at Sergeant Simmons, barely an inch from Simmon's face.

Simmons kept looking into the distance. It was like having a rabid dog around. Don't show fear and never, ever, meet its eyes. The rest of the platoon saved him as the unison "SERGEANT MAJOR, YES, SERGEANT MAJOR!!" rang out.

Suddenly Furji fell back, spinning around and snapped a salute. "All monkeys present and accounted for, SIR!"

Four figures stepped into view. Four figures wearing full combatgear, with bodyarmor, weapons, backpack, helmets, greasepaint. The whole nine yards.

But there was no mistaking who they were. Nervously the Marines watched the newcomers left to right. Gunny Johnson, Lt Ward from 1st Platoon, Staff Sergeant Asaki and the object of 2nd Platoon's nightmares, el-tee Baile.

The four men looked like a recruitmentposter for the Marines. Their faces carried a hard look, sporting the famous ten-thousand yard stare. They stood in a somewhat relaxed pose, with their rifles resting comfortable over their chests, ready to be used in a seconds notice.

"Thank you, Sergeant Major." Baile said and waited for Furji to take his place next to the full platoon. Meanwhile he scanned them, one by way, eyeballing them. The el-tee seemed pissed, but no one knew why.

The el-tee slowly walked along the line of Marines. "Good morning ladies.. slept well?.. Got your bunnyslippers on?.. Anything you want me to get you? A pillow?" he asked them in a friendly voice, but his bodylanguage was anything but friendly. He looked at Flatline. "Makeupkit perhaps?"

Donut got the same treatment. "A brain and some sense maybe?"

"How about you, Caboose? A pyjamas?" As he reached the end of the line he spun around again. "Ladies. You make me want to roll over and die when I watch you in the field. You stink so badly that a ten year old could whoop your asses with a slingshot and still be home for dinner!"

The Marines said nothing, just stood there and listened to Lt Baile chewing their heads off. "Maggots. When the hell did my beloved Corps turned into a daycarecenter for the brainless and the incompetent? If those are the two things to which I am to judge you then you bullshitting donkeyballs gotta be the top of the class."

Baile walked up to Flatline and looked at her. "Do you find this funny, Private Carlyle?"

"No, sir."

"That's Sir, no, Sir!"

"Sir, yes, Sir!"

He took a few steps back until they all could see him. "Listen up maggots!" None of them looked at him directly, but there was no mistaking he had their attention. "I do not like you ladies. You are scum. You are lower than scum. You are the singlecelled crap scraped from underneath my boots."

Johnson smiled mentally. This what it was all about. Giving them a common focus.

"Because I do not like you, you will learn to hate me. But the more you hate me the better you will become. I am hard, but I am fair. I do not care of you are Humans, Vulcan, Romulan, Bajoran, Tellarites or some other ungodly unpronounceable species. I do not care if you are man, woman, swinger, fag, dyke or ugly. To me you are equally worthless."

Truth be told they were not as bad as he made it out to be, but they weren't that great either. They needed to learn how to work as a team instead of individuals in a group. He would have to contact Colonel Caileb in a few weeks to get some more pointers, but for now his own skill would be sufficient.

"In seven minutes I want all of you worthless maggots standing here in front of me, lined up and ready. If anyone is late, so help you God, I will PT your asses until you bleed! DISMISSED!"

The lineup had woke them all. It was definately bootcamp flashbacks all over again. Red Team ran like they never had before as not one of them believed the el-tee to be bluffing them.

Watching the soldiers run back into the barracks Johnson finally let out the big grin he had been suppressing. "Nice one, sir."

Baile turned to the three men behind him and just grinned. "Thanks Johnson... nice touch with the worthless part.. you got a disturbed mind, Gunny.. where do you come up with all those insults?"

"A Gunny never tells, Sir."

Baile turned around and called Furji over. "Sarg.. we are checking for three things today. Teamwork, adaptation and how far they are willing to go."

The sergeant nodded. "Sir. Permission to ask a question."

"No need to be formal, Furji."

"How far do you hope they are willing to go?" Furji asked, keeping his voice low.

"Personally, Sarg, I hope they roll over us. It's four people against a full platoon. If they use their heads and play their cards right, then they'll have a good chance. If not - well then we got some work to do."

"Waterloo"

2nd Lieutenant Branwen London,

Furies Executive Officer

Lieutenant J.G. Saul Bental

Intelligence Officer / Lily Squad Leader

Bran felt a little bit out of place in her green medieval dress. Today she had invited Saul to the holodeck. They really needed to get to know each other better. She had not told him what she had planned. The other day he had enjoyed music. So today she was carrying her harp. Branwen intended to sing and play for him in a romantic setting. She had recreated one of the countries many old castles. She blushed at she noticed crew members turnaround and look at her. She must look awfully silly. But the young woman had no idea that in fact she looked stunning with her red hair hanging down.

Branwen entered the deck, installed herself in her programme and waited for Saul.

The Intelligence Officer in questioned came through the arch moments later. Despite the maverick impression he was carefully nurturing, Saul was more punctilious than a Bolian clockmaster (Yes, they are VERY punctilious, thanks for asking!).

He looked sideways, inspecting the view. It was a square room built with very rough large stones. The floor was made of wooden planks. And on the walls where multicoloured tapestries. A large fire was burning in a fireplace. And the whole room was lit with candles. Through the windows outside large green valleys could be seen.

And in the middle of it all stood Branwen.

Saul approached her carefully, as though he was stepping on glass instead of grass.

"This is incredible... and so are you.", when compared to a holographic program, he added in his mind. Unknown to Bran, Saul never like the holodeck because it just wasn't real, and that always troubled Saul. That's the reason he always prefered to try and go sailing during shoreleaves, instead of running sailing and watersport programes on the Holodeck.

"Thank you, my Lord." She curtsied "I thought I would show you more of my country's heritage." She sat down behind the harp and started to play. A little later Branwen sang in Welsh.

Saul sat on the opposite side of the room, elbows leaning against his knees, and his chin resting on the back of his hands. On the talent show, he was more concentrated on playing the guitar and his own apprehension than her singing, but still he reached the same conclusion as before.

She sang beautifully.

When she finished the second song, he came to sit next to her, not too close so he won't disturb her hands as they fluttered over the strings of the harp.

Branwen finished a third song and then stopped. She slided over closer to him. "I hope you liked the surprise." She said a little shy.

"I did.", Saul replied, trying to drive out of his head the thought that this wasn't real, and that they were submerged in a sophisticated mirage. Branwen was real. that's all that mattered. Hesitantly, he moved his hand around her shoulder. "Is this an actual place on Earth?"

"Oh yes, it is. It is Dolwyddelan Castle. It was the home of our great princes in the Middle Ages. When we were still a separate nation." She moved even closer until her lips almost touched his. "I thought it would be the perfect place for my prince."

"Oh, but my lady, I'm just a humble knight at your service.", Saul said, his lips arching slightly. He felt slightly overwhelmed by her proximity. Memories of their last time on the holodeck came in mind. "It is perfect. Great music too... and company..."

"Thank you." She murmured. Branwen was overwhelmed as well. Her first boyfriend, her perfect boyfriend. She couldn't help herself but put her arms around him, and her lips on his. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined a fairytale like this could come true.

In Saul's mind, the kiss lasted forever. His mind shifted between the urge to bring her even closer, his desire for her, and the fact that all of this was somehow, very wrong. Again.

It was only after Bran moved backward slightly, to gasp for air, that he spoke up.

"On second thought, I'd make a terrible knight. I haven't made up my mind yet, Bran...", he took her hands, gazing toward the window at the hills outside, "... and I have no idea from where do you summon the patience to wait, and not get offended. It amazes me... and I must say, all of this is a very unfair way to make me make up my mind already.", He added with a warm smile, to try and soften his words.

“But you are interested I can feel it. I know you will make the right choice. You are that kind of man.”, Bran said innocently.

Saul simply nodded. It was at that exact moment that he decided to give both her and Nara an answer by the end of the week. He was using the stalling technique for too long - not anymore.

"Is Dolwyddelan castle near your hometown, where I first met you?", Saul asked, after a long, tense silence.

“No not at all. I am from south Wales and Dolwyddelan is in Snowdon. It was one of the few places outside the compound my father would take us to. To show the glory of the welsh people. We were not allowed to see the castles the sassenechs built. He hated those.”, She lay her head on his shoulder.

Saul patted her cheek gently, his fingertips sliding on her cheekbones. "Why? One of the courses I took in my degree was about how the old disputes on Earth disspiated in the era after the first contact with the Vulcans... how comes he still hates them?"

"For him and people like him history stopped in the Middle Ages. Everything not Welsh, or at least Celtic is wrong. That includes modern appliances. It's a harsh life."

"I think you're fortunate.", Saul told her, then kissed her temple. "Most people who grow in a narrow minded environment grow up to be narrow minded adults."

She cuddled, feeling safe in his arms. "My sister wouldn't let me. She really is the amazing one, the first to escape. She had to do everything herself. Without her I never would have dared to run away."

Saul looked around him. "If I was, say, a marine psychologist, I would say that it's curious that you still choose to return to medival settings - in our dream, or in this program - despite the bad memories that are tied with it."

She gave him a playful kiss. " are you trying to psychoanalyse me?" Branwen smiled. "I love Wales, I love most of my family, and it hurts me deeply that I cannot go back. I missed them and it every day." She held him close.

"I was just trying to make a conversation.", Saul replied. 'Since I dread the other option.', He added without words. He contemplated what she said for a moment.

"I don't recall if I ever told you that I ran away from my homeplanet as well."

"You did? Even more we have in common. Can you tell me about it, or is it too painful?"

"Not painfull at all.", The infamous Saulish smirk surfaced once more. He recalled how, during the dreams exchange en route to Trill, he dreamt of the very moment he sneaked into the shuttle. It was his only private dream back then. The rest of the dreams - including the one where he met the young version of Branwen - weren't his own.

"I was seventeen years old, and I just quit the Utretch III Domestic Guard for... my own reasons. I left my planet several times before, mostly on business trips with some of my relatives, but every time I found myself back on the dark slimeball. It felt like someone was strangelling me, and it wasn't the stinking, polluted air. Also, I didn't want to spend my entire life... without seeing Earth, especially the regions of Israel and the Netherlands."

Well, that was one way to give words to the complex reason that convinced him to...

"So one day, about a week after I finished boot camp and returned the uniform, I packed and got myself onto one of those freighter ships. I had to change ships more than once on the way, and got into... uncomfortable situations... but it was the best spacetrip ever."

"I can imagine." Her mouth trill closer to his again. "We're both orphans of a kind. We should stick together." She was so in love she doesn't even embarrassed at being so forward. Branwen London had never been in love before in her life, and had no more sexual experience than one or two chaste kisses.

"My mother is alive and well, I think... but yea, you're right. Fellowhood of the homeless officers.", Saul said. He wasn't indifferent to what was going on within Branwen. Her words, her body language, how she came so near... she wanted him, he knew, and in some primal way it was a pat on the ego. He knew that it would take just a slight shift of his body, a hand in the right place, a kiss, and then...

And why not? What harm will be caused? If he decided to stay with Bran, well, the business term 'advance payment' came in mind. And if he decides that he is mistaken and wants Nara deep inside, well, Bran is a mature woman, and so on.

Saul's hands stiffened slightly. One of the first rules a young man learnt in the streets of Utrecht III was never to think with your flightstick instead of your brain.

She felt him react. Branwen really thought it was time she stopped being a virgin. And she was certain Saul was the man for her. Hadn't he come to her as a gift from God, it was a sign. So more bold then she had ever been she leaned forward and started kissing him more deeply. He moved backward, but she could feel his arms around her waist, pulling her with him, until he leaned against the wall. One hand sled down her back, and she could feel his fingers against her skin. It slightly tickled.

"Branwen, this reminds me of a song from the band whose song we sang on the talent show.", He blurted out.

"What song?" She mumbled getting very excited now.

"Waterloo..."

She didn't understand him, yet it didn't matter, as she guided his hands to the back of her dress. He kissed her once more, this time on his own initiative. He brought her even closer, intoxicated by her warmth, and her smell. Closing his eyes, he moved to kiss her bare right shoulder, while one of his hands slowly travelled slowly from her back, up her abdomen and toward her breast.

Branwen begin to breath faster. It felt good, sending little shivers down her spine and somewhere else. She had never felt like this before. Yet there was a little bit of fear as well. She was sinning after all, her faith forbade marriage before matrimony.

She felt Saul brush her hair, as his lips closed on her once more. He shifted beneath her, as if he was trying to change position... get above her, perhaps? And she could feel him, below, pressing against her hips.

"Branwen...", he mumbled.

She was a little scared when she felt his…. thing. The pleasure was still there as well, a warm feeling between her legs like nothing she had ever felt. But she had never felt a man this close to her. Sure she had seen naked men but always from a discrete distance.

And then, without an early warning, Saul backed off. He smiled impishly, and tapped on her nose lightly.

"I just realized that you must've spent a lot of time designing thelandscape outside this room, and here we are, wasting precious holodeck time doing... unrelated... things. Can I please please please have the grand tour outside before our holodeck time is up?"

A large part of her was disappointed, yet and even large part was glad. It had been scary as well. “I… I have as a matter of fact. It in Snowdon, really nice rough terrain. You will like it.” She said getting her composure back.

Saul took her arm, and the pair exited the room.

"How can I ever refuse? I feel like I win when I lose.", He whispered in her ear just as the door closed behind them, knowing well that she would miss the context and the irony.

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