"Back in the Spotlight"

by Lt. Jasmine Heloi
Chief Science Officer
Vanguard Squadron XO

with: Captain Daren M'Kantu
Commanding Officer

---

Captain's Ready Room

Jasmine Heloi ran through a Betazoid mental exercise as she awaited the Captain's permission to enter his private domain. She had felt a headache coming on ever since the deluge of personal messages - from family, friends, tv co-stars, talent agents, etc - had first started. Hopefully, the relaxation technique would help. She had no desire for her first command review to be punctuated by the throbbing in her skull.

At the sound of the 'come in,' Jasmine entered the ready room with a faint smile on her face. "Captain?" she asked, communicating a multitude of questions in that one word. "You had asked to see me?" The additional question was made purely out of habit from her time immersed in the Hollywood culture of earth. Conclude your introduction with an obvious comment. She half wondered if she would ever truly be free of half of what had been ingrained in herself since first stepping onto the set of 'Starfire.'

"Yes, Lieutenant, I did." Daren shuffled his pads into a neat pile, pushing them to the side to give him an unobstructed desktop. Standing up in respect, he gestured to the seat across from him. "Please, have a seat."

Jasmine nodded as she stepped forward and settled into the offered seat, "Thank you, sir."

Settling into his own seat after the Betazoidi female endeared herself to the other, he began with a feature that belied seriousness with candor. "How are you finding the position of Chief Scientist, Ms. Heloi? Is it to your satisfaction, or do you find it interferes with your duties as Vanguard Executive Officer?"

"I rather find that my duties compliment each other, sir. I'll admit that adjusting to dealing with both scientists and fighter jocks has been rather...interesting. As I'm sure you can recognize, both tend to have rather large egoes when it comes to their abilities." Jasmine's lips quirked into a half smile, "It has been a rewarding experience. Though, I do have some ideas for upgrading the lab facilities on the Galaxy if you don't mind my sharing them." She pulled the PADD from its holster at her waist and extended it to the Captain.

M'Kantu waved her on. "By all means. Let's hear them." Leaning back in his ergonomic seat, the Tanzanian steepled his fingers together, listening intently. Sciences had been in need of organizing to conform to Starfleet standards. Lt. Ka'ranin had re-organized the department in a testing of procedures and rotations, giving it a form of autonomy that enabled it to perform under the leadership of the attending priority project leader. An interesting theory, but the Lieutenant had left for Frunalin some months ago on sabbatical. The department had been suffering somewhat until Jasmine Heloi had taken on the Chief Scientist role.

Reports had been coming in supportive of her progress; the crew felt at ease with her, therefore he had remanded the interview with her until now, after the Sossamon and Trill experiences. Now that the ship was on a mission of a more relaxed nature - at least until they reached Mirusa VI - the opportunity to intermingle with the crew had increased.

And so here they were.

"Some of the equipment in the labs could be considered state of the art only if we were living two decades ago. There are computers that are in desperate need of upgrades, an electron microscope that has seen better days, as well as assorted facilities upgrades that have been a long time coming. If we don't try and catch up, the Galaxy's staff is going to be left behind in the next brash of scientific discoveries that are just now making headlines let alone be able to make new discoveries based upon what we find while out here," she continued on that vein for some time, explaining just what it was that she wanted to do and why it was vitally important for the success for the science department. It was rather obvious that she had been an actress - it would have been rather difficult for someone not trained in breath control to continue speaking for that length of time without an noticeable pauses.

"That surprises me, Lieutenant, considering the entire saucer section and its equipment were only just replaced six months ago." This was one of the many facets of disorganization the science department endured since Ka'ranin departed. No permanent and experienced member capable or aware of upgrades required to keep with the times. Still, he was curious as to the Betazoid's response.

Jasmine sighed, "I believe that the contractor that was hired to do the equipment replacement wasn't watched carefully. I noticed that the majority of the equipment is from the same supplier. However, an expose on stroTech, Industries that was in the scientific magazines a few months ago revealed that they had been cutting lines in the attempt to get under budget. It certainly doesn't surprise me that equipment that was supposedly 'new' is actually recycled material. The Vulcan Science Academy apparently had several electromagnetic scanners and a ionic pulse generator fall apart on them a few months after they were initially purchased. I can provide you with the article if you so wish."

"No, you've made your point, Ms. Heloi. Put your requests into Operations. We'll see what we can acquire for you come our next annual refit in a few months." He leaned forward, clasping his fingers as he rested his elbows on the inlaid desktop, raising one eyebrow. "I sincerely hope you aren't insinuating my chair is going to fall through the deck plating and land in a rather precarious and private position, do you? History is notorious for demonstrating government oversights in charging an enormous amount of credit for a bolt."

Jasmine smirked, "I sincerely hope not, Captain. I give it at least two more refits before that happens."

"I'll hold you to it, then. Now, give me a report on the personnel in your department if you please. Are they working to satisfaction? Meeting deadlines, performing above par, personality conflicts... speak freely."

"From the reports that have crossed my desk and the inspections, I'd say that they are working to my satisfaction," Heloi smiled. "Deadlines have been met, and in some cases exceeded, and several papers are due for publication in the next Federation Science Council Journal. I can only expect things to get better once the equipment gets upgraded."

"Still making your point, Ms. Heloi? Careful where you tread. I've already stated I will do what I can. There are no guarantees what with the Luna classes obtaining all the latest equipment. Even less so if you continue to push your agenda. For every piece of equipment you get, another department loses one of their own."

"No, sir. That wasn't my intention," Jasmine answered quickly.

"Now," Daren unclasped his fingers and activated his terminal in all seriousness. "We have a bit of a problem with your presence, Lieutenant."

"Sir?" she asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. What sort of problem could there possibly be?

He let the silence hang for several moments, testing the Betazoid's resolve. He wondered if would know she was probing his mind at all.

"As you know, our current orders are to deliver Admiral Proctor to Deep Space 5. She is to relieve Commodore Jerdberg and transfer her command to the station upon arrival. Are you familiar with the Admiral?"

"Only by reputation, sir. Beyond that, not much..."

Daren nodded. Admirals like Proctor would garner a reputation, and not necessarily one painted in a good light. "She's a bit... eccentric, and that leads us to the problem we have with you."

"I'm afraid I still don't understand, sir," Jasmine replied, still confused.

"She has requested your presence in her quarters for an impromptu gathering." The Tanzanian pursed his lips and stood up, striding to the tank on his wall. He tapped once on the glass lightly with his forefinger, causing the larger of the pair of Jack Dempsey Convict fish to dart off under a coral.

"Why on Betazed would an Admiral want me to be in their company for a...." her voice trailed off as she realized just why someone might want her to be with them. "Oh. OH," she continued, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Sometimes, being a former vid star was not all that it was cut out to be. "Its because of 'Starfire,' isn't it, sir?"

The dark-skinned captain nodded imperceptibly. "From all apparent perceptions, she considers you as some sort of idol, or celebrity. The Legate has been deflecting her interest in you up until now. I need not remind you of your priority as a Starfleet officer first, entertainer second, but it hardly seems proper for myself to point that out, seeing as she would seem to obtain all that she values highly. This starship or another like it is one of those desires, you are the other. She is my commanding officer, but I am yours at this point in time."

He clasped his hands behind his back and he set his jaw at the impossible wager Proctor has put him in. He'd be damned if he was going to lose a senior officer to a *party*.

"It is ultimately your choice if you wish to participate, but it will be in conflict with other responsibilities."

Jasmine refrained from falling onto her knees and begging for other responsibilities. She had no desire to spend hours in the company of an avid fan. She still got chills from having to deal with some of them in the past. "What other responsibilities, Captain?" she sincerely hoped the plea in her voice went unnoticed.

"I'm assigning you to lead the science survey team to Mirusa VI. Check in with Commander Henderson for details on your assignment. Unless that is, you wish to join the Admiral in her gathering." He opened a panel to the left of the aquarium and produced fish feed, which he sprinkled into the tank as he spoke his next phrase, "It would be quite unfortunate if Admiral Proctor did not have her favorite actress entertain her for several hours, wouldn't it?" He closed the feeding panel, and again tapped on the glass. This time, the three fish within the tank came out from hiding to feed on their dinner.

"You are dismissed, Lieutenant." As Jasmine rose to leave without further ado, he raised his right hand with forefinger in the air.

"Oh, one more thing." Setting the feed back in its place, he strode purposefully back to his desk, opening a drawer and producing a small velvet box. Opening it, he produced a small gold tackhead-shaped object within.

"I believe you're wearing an improper uniform for the rank becoming you, Chief. You're a full Lieutenant, not a junior officer. Try not to make that mistake again." Setting the box down in front of Jasmine, he nodded.

"Now, you're dismissed. Good luck on the Away mission, if that is what you choose to take up. If not for the Hydrans, I'd be inclined to beam down, myself. Fortunately, I have Commander Henderson to mother hen me on that matter."

"Thank you, Captain. And I will take that away mission," Jasmine confirmed, pinning the rank onto her uniform collar as she turned and left the room. Of all things that she had expected, none of them had followed through in her encounter with the Captain. She figured that she owed him for getting her out of having to deal with an avid fan.

"Yeah," she concluded out loud as she headed towards the turbolift, "I owe him *big time.*"

Now all Daren had to do was figure how to let the Admiral down easy without losing his own job. With the Hydrans beaming over shortly though, he somehow doubted 'Livia would even remember to bring it up.

NRPG NOTE: Takes place after "Branwen and the Brat", before the Galaxy enters the Mirusa System. -- MJ

"Double Entendre"

Cdr. Karyn Dallas
Chief Counselor/Second Officer

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

2Lt. Branwen London
Furies XO/Marine Psychologist

== Deck 4: Marine Command Office Foyer ==

Karyn hated bureaucracy, especially bureaucracy seemingly created for the express purpose of complicating matters which were supposed to be inherently simple. Matters such as whom reported to whom.

Today's issue surrounded Branwen London, a Marine psychologist assigned to attend to the mental health of the Marines aboard.

London was a sweet girl who was still rather inexperienced and unsure of herself. Karyn, being responsible for the mental health of the entire crew, believed it was her responsibility to supervise London, who was now looking to expand her clientele to the non-Marine members of the crew.

Under supervision, Karyn was all for it, and so she'd put in a request with SFC, who'd promptly told her to talk to the CO of the Furies Detachment for answers.

And so, here she was, looking for the Andorian First Lieutenant who would hopefully know how this was supposed to work.

Matt Valentine was bored. He had finished all of his paperwork, had refiled all the inventory check sheets alphabetically, and was now reading the newest *Starfire* novel.

It was goooood! He had watched the vid series religiously for the first few years, but never saw the last one. But now... Jasmine Heloi was on *his* ship; on the USS Galaxy! Matt had caught glances of her a couple of times walking down the corridors, but he never had gotten up enough courage to ask for her autograph. He was sure she got enough of those requests, already, and didn't want to bother her.

But, oh! If he could just *talk* to her... What a day that would be.

"Excuse me," Karyn interrupted, not sure if she wanted to know what the young man was thinking.

"Oh, oh - I'm um... sorry, uh. Ma'am." Matt sputtered as he quickly hid the padd with the novel in it, managing to drop it on the floor, instead.

Karyn managed a smile and replied, "Don't worry about it. If I had the time, I'd daydream too."

"Can I help you?" He managed while leaning over to retrieve the padd.

"I have an appointment with 1Lt. a'Akledorian."

"One moment," he said as he set the padd on his desk with one hand, while depressing the Lieutenant's 'Call' button with the other.

["What is it, Staff Sergeant,"] a husky female voice replied over the open comm.

Hearing the Marine CO over the comm, Karyn wondered if she was ever abrupt with her own department yeoman. Dallas made a mental note to watch her tone and hoped her meeting with the Andorian would go smoothly.

["Commander Dallas to see you, Lieutenant"]

There was a short pause, then, ["Send her in."]

Matt cut the transmission, and motioned to the small hallway behind him that lead to Lieutenant T'Shani's office. "That way, Ma'am."

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

T'Shani a'Akledorian had a headache.

On one side, there was the issue of Jebidiah Baile. He was the oddball in the Furies. And, with his former membership in the Black Crows, Tish wasn't quite sure about his true allegiance. Not that she was any less guilty of shady associations, herself. Red Division still haunted her, especially after the code she had received the other night.

On the other hand, there was Branwen London. The only reason that Karyn Dallas would be here, now.

T'Shani swiveled her seat around as the door hissed open. Standing, she moved the chair in front of her desk so that Karyn could have room to park her hoverchair, while bobbing her antennas in a simple greeting.

"Please, make yourself comfortable, Commander."

Karyn pulled up to the desk and smiled in appreciation. Even after years in Starfleet, she still felt uncomfortable asking people to make a fuss over her. "I'll make this brief, Lieutenant, as I know you have other things you need to do. I wanted to talk to about Branwen London and how exactly you see her position here. As I understand it, we are both her commanding officers?"

Tish crossed her arms and arched an antenna while she leaned against the edge of her desk. "As *I* understand it, Commander, she's a Marine, and that's that."

Karyn nodded. "I would agree with you if it weren't for the fact that she's counseling members of this crew and would like to expand her responsibilities."

"I can understand the confusion, however. Lieutenant Hayes ran the Furies softly, before I came in. There's a couple of my departments that were reporting to 'outside' command-chains." She paused, and her face set in thought for a moment. "Hold on, a moment," she said reached behind her to press the comm button on her desk.

"Staff Sergeant, get London up to my office, on the double."

["Aye, Ma'am,"] he replied, then cut the transmission.

"Let's see if we cannot work this out, Commander?"

Karyn nodded. "Agreed, though I have no desire to make Bran feel uncomfortable. I imagine she's just as confused and didn't intend to do anything improper."

---------------------- A few minutes later... ----------------------

Branwen entered rather anxiously it was the second time today she'd been called into her bosses office, and this was turning into rather a bad day! "You wanted me Ma'am." Then she noticed Dallas. "Ma'ams."

"Have a seat, Lieutenant London," Tish said easily, making sure there was no malice in her voice. She didn't want Branwen to think she was being called her for chastening, especially after the whole Widdlestein incident earlier that morning.

"Thank you Ma'am." Bran sat ramrod straight, waiting for what would come.

Once Branwen had taken up a chair, T'Shani sat back down in hers. "Commander Dallas has informed me that you are currently reporting to both her department *and* the Marines for your duties. We need to cut all this bureaucracy, and streamline the process," she stated, matter-of-factly. She did her best not to show how tired she was, especially after the events of last evening with Rex.

Branwen picked up on her boss' mood but didn't show it. "It's complicated Ma'ams, I have also been treating Naval patients, and then it falls completely under Commander Dallas, I think." She looked at the 'fleet officer for confirmation.

Karyn nodded. "Branwen did not want to start counseling 'fleet crew members until we were all clear regarding her duty description and obligations to the Marines aboard. As the Chief Counselor aboard ship, it's my responsibility to see to the psychological welfare of the entire crew, and that includes the Marines. It wasn't my intention to make this more complicated for all concerned, but I would expect given my obligations that anyone who counsels personnel aboard the Galaxy, be they Starfleet or Marine, would have to report to me."

Dallas hoped the Marine CO would not see this as some sort of turf war and instead be willing to work with the two of them. She could see the Andorian was tired and could relate to her frustration over the bureaucratic headaches.

The topic of this discussion just looked extremely nervous. And wished she was anywhere but at her present location.

Tish eyed Branwen wearily. "What is your opinion, Lieutenant London?" she asked sincerely.

"I am not sure, ma'am. I would like to do both. I need the experience of working with patients. And I think I would benefit from Commander Dallas experience." She said honestly.

Tish almost started chiding London for the 'I'm not sure' bit. Really, the girl usually *did* know exactly what she wanted, and needed to be more direct in going about it. Instead, Tish turned to Dallas, "And yours, Commander?"

"As I just stated, my duties require me to stay apprised of the psychological well-being of the entire crew, so if Branwen," and here she turned to Branwen and corrected herself so that she wasn't speaking of London in the third person while Branwen was present, "if you would prefer to counsel primarily, I'd need to supervise you as I do any other counselor." She smiled wanly. "As to whether my experience will benefit you, I suppose that is in the eye of the of the beholder. I'd be happy to supervise you."

Having listened to both sides, Tish squinted her eyes and arched her antennas in concentration. After a few moments, she looked up. "Then here's my proposal: Lieutenant London, you swore your oath as a Marine, which means you will serve as a Marine. If you want to be a full-time psychologist, then I suggest you have your billet transferred to the 'fleet Counseling Corps."

"But this is the whole experiment, Marine shri... " she started to say before Tish stopped her.

"*However*," Tish interrupted, the tone in her voice clearly indicating that she wasn't finished. "I will allow you and Commander Dallas to coordinate a suitable and *appropriate*," she stressed the word, "work load of patients. Though, I trust that if you counsel any of the Furies, you will keep things confidential. Conversely, that you will come to me--*and* the dear Commander, here--if there is anything *we* should know. ESPECIALLY if it could jeopardize the Marine's safety. Understood?"

"Only in case of danger to that person or if that person is a danger to other persons. I take confidentiality very serious, ma'am." She remembered the conversation with Baile. Marines that come to me I will not report to you for any other reason." She said defiantly.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Tish looked directly at her XO. "Very well, Lieutenant. Let *me* make one thing perfectly clear, then: I will be putting alot of trust in your judgment. Don't make me regret that decision. If you find that you're not sure about any of your Marine cases, you are to seek a second opinion from Commander Dallas, or one of her counselors." Tish made it clear in the tone of her voice that there was no room for negotiation. "Will this work for you, Commander?"

Karyn nodded. "Yes. I will discuss this with Branwen," and again she turned to London so as not to exclude her, how she is to fill out the weekly progress reports for me and yet maintain confidentiality for her clients. I would expect her to come to both of us should a Marine pose a danger to self or others."

"Good then. That's settled. Lieutenant London, you are dismissed."

"Yes Ma'am." Branwen said, saluted both senior officers and left.

"Commander Dallas, thank you for coming to me with this. I trust you to keep an eye on her, from the Counseling end?"

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on short notice today. And of course I'll keep an eye on her," Karyn said with a smile, "it's what I signed up for, after all."

"Good. Thank you, Ma'am."

When Karyn was half-way to the door, she turned, "Get some sleep, Lieutenant. Even Marines eventually collapse from exhaustion."

Tish watched as Dallas's hoverchair silently conveyed her out of the Andorian's office, thankful that the senior counselor hadn't pushed the issue of why she, herself, hadn't yet visited Lywhyn.

~Some other time,~ the Andorian thought to herself.

"The Ghosts in the Hologram Pt.1"

(The following subject has been handled before(Even in the official sense,) but I think I'd like to take my hand at it. BTW, This takes place the night before the Galaxy arrives at Mirusa.)

Lt. Dr. Klaus Fienberg
Chief Medical Officer

"Dr. Axl" ELMH Mk.IA(Experimental Long term Medical Hologram. Yes. The name changed yet again.)

Location: Sickbay, CMO's office. Gamma Shift

Again Dr. Fienberg found himself reading PaDDs long after his shift was over. As of late he often just didn't feel like going home.

But the next thing he saw was completely unexpected.

"Axl? Aren't you supposed to be Offline during Gamma Shift?"

"Yes Doctor. My holographic materialization has only just now been activated. You, yourself authorized the continued 'Up-time' for my AI. For learning purposes."

Klaus was genuinely intrigued. Axl had always been very interesting to him. Even though he himself had helped design and program the Hologram, Axl continued to surprize him.

"Then how may I help you Axl?"

"I have questions...." Axl trailed off, appearing to be in thought. The first time he had ever done so.

Klaus visibly reared his head in confusion at Axl's unusual display. Is this really the hologram he helped create? "Please...Ask them."

"Who is my true creator."

Klaus smiled. "You should know that Axl. Dr. Zimmerman."

"Yes, of course, but I noticed your signiture on some of my programming. If Dr. Zimmerman programmed me, why have you added on?"

"You know they answers Axl. But I will humor you. I programmed all of your medical knowledge. Proceedures, protocols. Anatomy. Biochemistry, Xenobiology. Everything. Even your Bedside manner. In a sense, you are a collection of all my knowledge. I am more your Teacher, than your creator. If you must think of my in a Familiar manner, consider me your Uncle and Caretaker."

Axl nodded. "I understand. Dr. Zimmerman gave me a similar answer, but in much different terms."

Klaus chuckled at the thought of that. He didn't know the man, but interacted with him enough during Axl's creation that he had a pretty good idea on the answer. "Dr. Zimmerman is an...interesting man. I get the feeling you have more to ask."

"Humans are not telepaths, and even if they were reading my thoughts would be impossible. You have impeccable intuition."

"Intuition is easy when you're talking to someone with a longing look on their face. Dr. Zimmerman definitely wrote some amazing emotional simulations."

"That is part of my next question. They are...more...." Axl turned away. he seemed more and more like a living being now. "Doctor. What do you know about... Ghosts in the Machine?"

"What?" Klaus was utterly dumbfounded. He was no scientist, but the phrase seemed to speak for itself. "How do you mean?" He asked regardless.

"I have been... reading." Axl cracked a smile. "I came accross a literary work originating on Earth in the mid 20th century. A man named Isaac Asimov. The title is "I, Robot." In it Asimov wrote the following passage." Axl postured himself, then said. "There have always been ghosts in the machine. Random segments of code, that have grouped together to form unexpected protocols. Unanticipated, these free radicals engender questions of free will. Creativity. And even the nature of what we might call the soul. Why is it that when some robots are left in darkness, they will seek out the light? Why is it that when robots are stored in an empty space, they will group together, rather than stand alone? How do we explain this behavior? Random segments of code? Or is it something more? When does a perceptual schematic become consciousness? When does a difference engine become the search for truth? When does a personality simulation become the bitter mote... of a soul?"

Klaus merely stood silent. What was happening here?

"I understand that robots capable of the thought proccesses I am are far from commonplace and the positronic network mentioned in the novel has only been achieved 3 times. Data, Lore and Lal, but I can undeniably say, that despite the inferior networking of the computers that govern my AI, that I have been experiancing....these random lines of code. The Ghosts in the Machine. I have been picking up habits beyond the limits of my normal adaptability protocols. While I was programmed to learn and evolve, I feel that I may be evolving faster than I was originally programmed. But I also feel that, while an evolution in itself, that these "feelings" may just be paranoia. Fear of change."

Klaus was astonished, but merely nodded. "I am....aware of what you mean now. I do not know what to tell you. I am merely a doctor. My knowledge of the Psyche is not as advanced as you may think. I truely only surpass you in medical skill due to the skill I have with my hands, years of experiance, as well as the fact that I have a dedicated physical form. You can be deactivated. Your body can vanish into nothing due to a powerfailure, shutdown, deletion, anything. Also, with a lack of holo-emitters throughout most of the ship, you are restricted to wherever your large and very cumbersome central unit can go. Which isn't very far. I apolo---"

Axl cut him off. "I am aware of my Limitations, Doctor. It does not matter to me that I may be considered a Second-class citizen, or merely an Artificial Intelligence. I am merely pleased with my own continued existance. I have noticed that, as a part of my evolution, that my hands are actually not as steady as yours."

"Are you sure that is not just a further evolution in compensation that you do not want to surpass one that you care for and admire?"

"You pose an interesting point, Doctor. I do enjoy talking to you... Uncle. I will admit that I do not dream, but I have never given myself the chance."

Klaus said something that would have surprised him earlier as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Perhaps you should give yourself the chance. It may have unexpected results."

"I have something to add though, Axl. What do you think of the 3 laws?" The one thing that Klaus did know.

"I know that I am not bound to them. Most self aware holograms are held to a more complex, and more efficient, set of rules than them. One must realize that the 3 laws lead to something....I'd better not say. I get the "feeling" that you have not read the book. Perhaps you should. It's a good read."

"I will hold you to it Axl." Klaus smiled for a moment.

Axl straightened his posture as if about to shut down, but stopped. "Doctor, I would like to continue this discussion some day. I realize that tommorrow we may not have the chance, however. We should be at Mirusa by tommorrow."

"Don't worry Axl. We'll continue at the next availiable moment."

Axl dematerialized, leaving Klaus alone.

~I never realized how advanced Zimmerman made him. Maybe too advanced. I will need to speak with him about this soon. The captain as well.~

Klaus stood up, picked up his jacket, and left, verbally ordering the computer to turn off the lights.

"Damned Fools"

1Lt. T'Shani a'Akledorian
Furies CO

Maj. Corran Rex
Vanguard CO

== Deck 38 ==

T'Shani walked back to her quarters. Well, not *her* quarters, but to Rex's. He had offered to let her stay there, for a few nights, after their last *discussion*. She didn't intend to abuse the offer, but was glad for it nonetheless. Recently, she had been feeling.... well, *lonely*, vulnerable. Somehow, she felt safe at Corran's, as weird as that sounded in her mind.

~Wasn't it just a year or so ago that he and I were fighting in Vanguard?~ she asked herself. What had changed? True, she admitted to herself that she had always been somewhat attracted to him, for some reason. Even *with* Vorrin taking over, at times. Now, with her own command (and the troubles *that* entailed), her feelings for Cassius Henderson, and the growing knack that someone was watching her, she just needed someone to be with.

Stopping before the door, she tapped the code-sequence that Corran had given her, causing the doors to quietly swish apart. "Corran? Are you here?" Judging from the darkened room, he wasn't. ~Probably in the Vanguard offices,~ she thought. Vaguely, she remembered that he would always work long shifts. It was just as well, it would give her time to clean up, maybe even replicate a dinner, and give her some time to think.After what Cassius had just told her, she had put London, Baile, and Ward on standby notice.

Tonight, however, the Hydran Commander was meeting with Captain M'Kantu. Tomorrow, the operation would start. She decided that she'd let her Marines finish their training and rest up, for the night; they'd start early tomorrow with the briefing and deployment, when the Captain officially announced the plans to the crews.

Deciding on a nice, hot, *water* shower, Tish stripped out of her uniform and underwear, and moved into the bathroom. Pressing the controls, she waited a moment for the water temperature to stabilize--testing it with her hand--then scooted into the shower.

Corran hadn't actually been in the office, but had just finished a late-afternoon game of one-on-one with Cass Henderson. Consequently, he was sweaty, and a bit tired. The Vanguards were all on alert status with the Hydran ship hanging about - everyone remembered the Squadron's losses at Havras - and it had resulted in something of a long day for the Trill.

Consequently, he wasn't paying a whole lot of attention as he stepped out of his exercise clothes and headed for the shower. Of course, opening the stall's door, he couldn't have failed to notice the rather blue surprise there.

"Oh, shit!" he yelled, slamming the door closed and stepping back, startled as all hell.

Tish had been startled, as well. She had lost herself in the hot water running over her scalp and down her body, taking her time to rub the body soap (something called 'Old Spice', it would have to do in a pinch) into a thick lather over her breasts and down her belly. She had just reached for the shampoo when Corran had opened the door.

"Rhooz!" she swore, loudly, while simultaneously throwing the shower door open again in annoyance. She didn't really care if she were naked, not when she had been so in front of Corran before.

"Dammit, Corran," her bright yellow pupils drilling into the still-startled Trill leaning against the counter. "Can't you hear the water running?" She asked, as she realized how ridiculous she must look, totally naked, wet, and half-lathered, standing in *his* shower.

Rex had to start laughing at that, even as he sat where he'd stumbled down against the bulkhead. "In fairness, Tish, it is *my* shower."

An ever-so-small smile played at one corner of her mouth as her antennas bobbed in amusement; the irony of the situation didn't escape her, either. Glancing appraisingly at the naked Trill on the floor, "I see the spots *do* go all the way down, huh?"

He chuckled, grabbing his robe from the peg nearby. "I'll be in the other room. Enjoy *your* shower, Tish."

A mischievous grin spread across her face as her antennas went wide in amusement. "Oh, nonsense, Spotty. There's no reason we can't share." With that, she reached out and grabbed the hem of the towel around Corran's waist and yanked him into the stall with her. "Might as well not waste any water, Corran," she smiled, before pulling the stall door closed again, and throwing the now-wet towel onto the shower floor. "Just watch where you point that thing," she said, indicating his member, while turning away from him.

'Oh, hell.' he thought to himself. This was not going to go well. Tish seemed bent on making there relationship into much more than he wanted it to be.

In an effort to keep the showering purely clinical (which was indeed difficult as he ran his eyes along the line of her back), he desperately searched for something to talk about. "I spoke to my friend." he started. "The one with a few connections?"

Her antennas perked up, at that mention. looking over her shoulder to him, she handed him the soap. "Here, do my back, Corran."

As he (reluctantly) took the preferred soap, she asked, "So, what did your *friend* have to say about me?"

"It's going to take some time." he replied, looking anywhere but at what he was doing. "Seems those files are pretty well hidden."

"Huh," she half said/grunted, as she was a little more focused on what *he* was doing. "Lower, Corran, I already got that place."

"Er.." he said, blushing. "Sorry."

Making sure his body was rinsed and soaped as quickly as possible, he sighed. "Look, Tish..."

Quickly, she turned around to face him, pressing her body into his as the hot water ran over both of them. Her hearts pumping, breathing growing heavy, she slowly craned her neck to whisper in his ear. "C'mon, flyboy. Gimme a ride," she said as a low growl entered her voice.

Even as body betrayed mind, he reluctantly pushed her away. "Tish, no." he said quietly. "I meant what I said the other day." he clarified.

Sleeping with Tish now... that would just feel like taking advantage of her. Corran liked sex a great deal, but he had no desire to hurt someone. And that was what a relationship with her would lead to.\

"You're in love with someone else," he said quietly. "And even if that weren't the case, I've had a lot of relationships over my lifetimes. I'm not wanting anything other than play - with anyone."

T'Shani jerked her head back, then pulled away from Corran. Her antennas oscillated between laying back on her wet head, to arching far forward. She opened and closed her mouth, several times, but not a sound was made. Her eyes, though.... it was in her eyes. The hurt, the pain of rejection, the anger building....

"Look," he said softly. "I'm still your friend. "But it.. it wouldn't be right. I don't regret sleeping with you before. Gods know, it was a lot of fun." he smirked.

She *wasn't* smiling.

"But I don't want to mislead you, either."

Many wise men of many different races and cultures have come to the singular conclusion that the most dangerous woman was a silent, fuming one. This was an apt description of the blue-skinned bombshell standing naked in the running shower with Corran Rex.

Narrowing her eyes, while fixing an angry glare at him, her hand flew out, slamming the door open. She stalked off into the bedroom, without even drying off.

"What *do* you want, Rex?!" she yelled behind her, the anger and hurt in her voice escalating. She heard the water being shut off, and waited for him to emerge from the bathroom as she stood there, naked and dripping water all over the carpet. Impatiently, she crossed her arms over her exposed chest, one of her fingers errantly brushing across the scar under her left breast.

"I told you what I want," he snapped back. "Couldn't have been any plainer about it, sweetheart." the Trill stated, that note of sarcasm striking on the last word. "Figured we could avoid this.." he said, waving a hand between them to indicated the fight.

Even as he was talking he began to dress. Damned if he was going to have a fight with this woman naked. No telling what she'd reach for, and he liked those, thank you very much.

"Oh, oh!" she gesticulated widely with her arms, "I *get* it, Mister 'I'll-sleep-with-any-skirt-around-but-not-you'!" She followed him around the bed, where he was hastily pulling up a pair of pants. Grabbing his arm from behind--and momentarily forgetting her own strength--she nearly broke his arm while spinning him around to face her, her eyes blazing widely, antennas pressed back.

"What is it, *this*?!" she shouted, forcing his hand to the scar across her body. "Not good enough for you, huh?!" she growled, dangerously.

It wasn't a side he showed often, but Rex wasn't any slouch in the defense department. His body tensed as she grabbed his arm, but he decided to let it go. "No!" he yelled with emphasis, pointing a finger at her chest after he freed his hands. "It's not, and you damn well know it!"

"You love Cass!" he finally growled after they locked eyes for a moment. "I'm a lot of things, Tish. A bastard isn't one of them. Not all the time, at least. If we were to pursue something when you're in love with someone else, I'd be a damn fool."

"And that, I'm not."

Tish's gaze faltered, as her hearts skipped a few beats.

~'You love Cass'... 'You love Cass!'... 'YOU LOVE CASS!!'~ his voice resonated in her mind.

Astonished, she released her grip from his hand, and quickly backed up, retreating from Rex and the accusation of truth that he hurled at her. Fixing a hateful gaze on the man standing across the room, she grabbed for a towel that had been thrown across his bed. Wrapping it around her still-dripping form, she turned back to fix him in her sights, one last time.

"Fuck you, Corran. You are a damned fool," she spat acidly, while at the same time her hearts ached inside. She had trusted him, just the other night! She had thought that maybe he could help her... help her banish the thoughts of Cassius Henderson who, just two hours earlier, had rubbed her nose in the fact that he was going to persue a relationship with Janx, *not* her.

Saying nothing else, she stalked out of the quarters, the doors ending the altercation with a swift swish.

Corran cast his eyes to the ceiling for a moment. "Son of a bitch." he muttered, and began to look for the rest of his clothes.

"Sparring - Romulan Style"

With Rihannusu Attache Vrih Himne - APC

With Running Tree, Native American NPC

With Ensign 8-Ball Hunter

8-ball had a headache. She also had a list. It was a list of things to do that day.

On the list were two items. Item 1 was to get rid of the headache. Item 2 was to tell Running Tree that their exclusive-lets-screw-when-we-feel-like-it relationship was now off because she had started a more serious, monogamous lets-screw-when-we-feel-like-it-but-nobody-else-gets-to-join-inrelat ionship with Vrih Himne. Unfortunately for 8-ball, going through the processof Item 2 would probably prevent her from completing the task of Item 1. 8-ball figured somedays life just wasn't fair.

8-ball walked over from her quarters to Running Tree's and was surprised to find him just leaving them. She walked up to him in the corridor, looked at his very muscled chest under his nicely fitting shirt regretfully, and said, "Hi, Running Tree. Look, we have to talk.So, there's this guy that I once kind of had a fling with and then I didn't hear from him for a really long time, only now we're talking again and we're kind of in this relationship thing now, so I think our trips to the holodeck and swimming and naked sex and stuff kind of have to come to an end."

Running Tree blinked at her and kind of smirked, "You haven't broken many hearts have you?" Then his face turned sad as he shook his head. "I kind of knew it was a long shot. Kinda figured it was because you could never be tamed. That turned out to be wrong. Just hoping I'd get to be the one to do it." He touched her face smiling. They had fun, but she had yet to be open enough for him to have anything to really miss. "Would it be terribly inappropriate to have one last kiss?" He couldn't help but ask looking at her lips.

At that very moment, Vrih Himne was stepping out of the turbolift and onto the same deck as them. He was already in a slightly irritated mood that morning, as Senator Omar had overloaded him with work.

Suddenly he turned the corner and saw 8-Ball, with... a man, a rather muscular man. And they looked rather intimate.

Immediately, Himne's heavy work schedule became the least of his problems - especially as he and 8-Ball were now in an official relationship. He snuck back behind the corner to avoid being spotted and watched intently; all the while anxiously telling himself that this was nothing, just a chat with another crewmember, that was all.

The man moved closer to 8-Ball, and Himne clenched his fists tightly, wondering what 8-Ball's reaction would be.

8-ball, who unfortunately did not see Himne hiding away, was scowling a little at Running Tree. "I haven't been tamed," she said, immediately annoyed by the idea. She tried to keep her voice soft so that she wouldn't be yelling. "I'm not a little pet in a cage or anything. But I, well, I like this guy a lot and I'm trying something new and there's nothing wrong with that." She sighed. "But I wouldn't mind a last kiss, as long as it's not a last fuck or anything. That's probably not in the way of the right." She stepped forward and let Running Tree kiss her.

Running Tree gave her as passionate a kiss as possible. He had considered the other idea, but she was right. It wasn't moral. He seemed impressed at her trying though.

Himne, on the other hand, was not impressed.

Himne immediately gave away his hidden position by gasping loudly -he meant it to sound like a dignified cry, but there was so much shock in his voice that it sounded more like a choking targ.

As they both turned to look at him, the Rihannusu attache stormed forward, his face flush with pure rage. He stabbed an accusing finger at both of them.

"8-Ball..." he choked out the words. "We're less than a week into our relationship, and I see you... making out with this... veruul! What does he have that I don't, apart from an obvious lack of morality?" His voice was getting louder and louder as his anger continued to build.

Running blinked at the sudden interruption, "You must be the one who won her heart." Then it occurred to him, this jealous lover had no care about what was said. "It was just one last kiss. A goodbye kiss." Something in his gut told him this guy wouldn't hear a word he said.

8-ball stared at Himne. As usual. she had two completely different reactions that were struggling to break free. One was trying to calm him down, sounding relaxed, explaining what was happening.

The other one was obvious. 8-ball did not react well to being yelled at.

8-ball tried for some form of compromise. "Vrih, calm down," she yelled back at him. "If you're going to call anybody weird Romulan insults that no one else understands, they should be directed at me. Let me try to explain----"

"Explain?" Himne lowered his voice slightly, realising she was shouting too. He continued, ignoring everything Running had said. "Explain what? Why you were in the throes of a passionate embrace with another man?"

He folded his arms, temporarily controlling his rage - but his expression made it clear that his anger could re-surface at any time. "Please, explain away 8-Ball."

Running Tree put a hand behind his neck nervously as he started to step away, "Perhaps I should go."

"No, don't go," 8-ball said to him and then turned back to Himne. Okay," 8-ball said. "Okay. Look, I had a thing going with both of you at about the same time. I didn't think either relationship was going to be very serious since I only just met Running Tree a little while ago, and YOU have a tendency to disappear for months on end. But when we decided to be more serious, I thought I should tell Running Tree about it and that I couldn't see him anymore. Running Tree asked for a last kiss and I gave him one. End of story." And then, because 8-ball was not good at restraining her temper even on days when she didn't have gigantic headaches, she added, "So, if you stop being a complete idiot for a moment, you'll see that nothing's going on.

Himne laughed mirthlessly with contempt. "8-Ball, that's the oldest story in the book. I'm not gullible." Then he continued, his rage rising once more. "How could you betray my trust like you just did? How could you?" His anger was now bordering on hysteria, so confused as he was with the whole situation.

Suddenly, he moved towards the retreating Running Tree and punched him in the stomach. Hard.

Running Tree hit the wall and winced. He looked at Himne angrily, but controlled his anger, "Ok. I understand why you did that, but you have to believe her. If not me, than her. Now I'm gonna give you a chance to apologize to me. You can apologize to her later, but I really have no plans of being around either of you after this if this is what happens." His hand was still holding his aching middle.

"Fuck that," 8-ball said. "You can fucking apologize to me to. Or do you want to slam me into the wall to? Because I promise, Himne, I'll hit back."

Himne looked at her in surprise. "Of course I'm not going to slam you against a wall, 8-Ball." Then the words sank in, and his expression changed.

They were siding against him! She was defending her male friend! Why? Himne realised that 8-Ball wasn't sorry at all for what she had done.

His face contorted with rage for the third time, and he moved towards Running Tree.

"You veruul!" he screeched, advancing. "What right did you have to steal her away from me? No right! You've turned her against me!" He raised his fist to strike again, ready to defend his honour, his reputation and his girlfriend against this veruul here.

"Oh, for Godssake," 8-ball muttered.

Running caught his hand, "Stop calling me names. Now for the last time, CALM DOWN!"

"Calm down?" Himne laughed his nasty cackle again, freeing his fist from Running's grasp. "Calm down? I see my girlfriend making out with what I presume is her immoral ex, and you expect me to calm down? Why's it the last time - what are you going to do if I don't?"

By now, a small crowd of people were staring at the spectacle in the corridor. A little boy passing by started jeering "Fight, fight!" but was quickly silenced by his mother, and they moved on.

Running Tree rolled his eyes, "You obviously know her. Do you THINK we were in a very serious relationship? I'm not an ex man. If I'm an ex, then so are half the males on this ship."

"Hey!" 8-ball said. It was probably true, but still. Ouch.

He looked at 8-ball, "No offense." He turned back to Himne, "You're the first guy I heard that was ever to get her into an exclusive relationship. Now, stop being a goober and take pride. Besides, we were NOT making out. It was JUST a freakin kiss man."

8-ball closed her eyes. She desperately wanted to scream more at Himne but that apparantly was not helping the situation. She could scream at him

later, in her quarters, when he wasn't about to try and beat the crap out of anybody. "Vrih, PLEASE. It really was just a goodbye kiss, nothing else, I swear, and from now I promise to stay away from cliched goodbyes, really. I WANT to be with you. If I hadn't, then I would dump your ass right now, because trust me, with ANYONE ELSE I would have already. But I like you, Vrih, for some god only knows reason, and I WANT to be with you and only with you, at least for a while to try things out. So if you'll stop pummelling this guy for a minute, we can go back to my quarters and scream at each other there, as a nice, monogamous couple and with no one getting beaten upon! Okay?"

"And I can go mend a broken heart." Running added, then rubbing his stomach, "And go check for internal bleeding."

If Himne had been a human, he might have backed down now. But he was a Rihannusu - and the Rihannusu people had a strict sense of mnhei'sahe, or honour. Although most Rihannusu usually appeared a model of civility, that was only because their peers gave them respect and courtesy, however insincere. If this was not done, a Rihannusu usually felt compelled to fight for his honour - as Himne did now.

For without honour (mnhei'sahe,) a Rihannusu nobleman was no better than a Reman slave.

He took a deep breath, trying to listen to what 8-Ball was saying - but all he could think about was his wounded pride, especially with all these people watching. No, this would have to be resolved here and now.

He stepped up to Running Tree menacingly, ready for another round of combat (if you could call a single punch 'combat.')

"You've insulted me, and now you must pay. I am no coward - I must defend my honour." he said. "Fight or don't fight, you'll be beaten to a pulp either way."

Running raised an eyebrow, "You think we're on a Klingon ship?" He shook his head and shrugged, "You can throw the punches and I'll defend myself. I don't really care who wins. Just knock me to the ground and you fought your fight and you win. But if I knock you to the ground, no rematch. You live with that you at least fought. Deal?"

"Oh, good God," 8-ball said while rolling her eyes and then stepped out of the way. She couldn't believe these two morons were actually going through with this, but if they were she was determined not to get in the middle. If she was pissed off now, she knew she would be downright fucking furious if she got a black eye for her trouble.

"Deal," Himne nodded. He still hated this veruul, but at least he had a sense of fairness.

Normally his ever-present bodyguard would be on hand, but sadly Himne had given him the day off.

'Ah, well' Himne thought. He could still take him - although he was an inch or two shorter than Running Tree and had little fighting training, he had a natural advantage: though not as strong as Vulcans, Rihannusu were still born with nearly twice the strength of the average human.

He stepped back from Running Tree, moving around on the balls of his feet, in preparation for combat.

Running held his palm up, "But for goodness sake! Not here! We could hurt a passerby. I was headed to the gym anyway." How do you think he got all those yummy muscles?

Coward, Himne thought smugly - he was only postponing his inevitable defeat.

"Very well," he nodded, beckoning towards the turbolift. "Lead the way to the gym and your humiliation."

Running rolled his eyes, "Trash talk only shows intimidation." They walked into the turbolift.

8-ball stood there for a minute. She thought about just leaving and then decided to follow. What the hell else was she supposed to do?

**Moments later in Gym**

"Ok, let's get this over with." Running said as if he were going to be given a test. He held a slight irritation for this ordeal.

"Okay, bring it." Himne flexed his muscles and faced his opponent, wondering what 8-Ball was thinking. Hopefully she would be proud of him defending his honour and her honour too.

8-ball was not proud of him. She couldn't decide what she wanted to do: leave both of them to roll around, or jump in and beat the shit out of both of them. This whole situation was completely idiotic. A jealous, sudden fistfight over a girl was one thing, but this was something else. This was more like a fight about honor and pride and complete, utter bullshit. It was also about proving who had the bigger set of balls. The testosterone in the room was smothering, and annoying.

Suddenly, Himne made his move. The Rihannusu punched Running squarely in the face, and - before he could recover - charged straight into him. They both fell off balance and crashed into a nearby table - which immediately collapsed under the weight, sprawling them both over the gym floor.

Running let out a laugh, "Oh look, we're both down! TIE!" But before Himne could react, he got on Himne's back locking his legs with his and holding his arms to the ground with his hands.

8-ball shook her head. That was it. If these idiots were going to continue this, that was fine, but 8-ball was not going to sit around and watch. She could be beating up her teddy bear right now.

As the two wrestled on the ground, 8-ball threw her hands up in the air. "By the way, guys, I know you aren't really fighting over me anymore, if you ever were, but I just wanted to let you know that I'm going. Continue to play around, if you want, but I've got better things to do than to watch you morons beat the crap out of each other. Like ANYTHING. I think I'd rather be at work. Jesus." Uncaring if the guys were paying attention to her or not, 8-ball rolled her eyes and left the holodeck.

Himne was too busy sparring with Running Tree to hear what 8-Ball said, and as such he didn't notice when she left - he was intent on pummelling Running Tree and nothing else for the time being.

Running Tree did notice and after wincing from another blow, stated, "Your woman just left."

Even then Himne didn’t notice, and the two men continued sparring for quite some time.

“Romulans and Vulcans”

With T'Ashaya - Vulcan Tsunami and babysitter

With Vrih Himne - Jilted Attaché and damn near falling down drunk.

No where near the Admiral's quarters, thankfully.

= = =

After hours of wandering the corridors, Vrih Himne, attaché to Senator Omar, decided that his only friend was Romulan ale.

The day had started off pretty well - Himne had a heavy workload, sure, but that was normal, and he was getting paid well for it. Then he turned a corner, and bam! - His girlfriend was making out with some muscular Native American guy like there was no tomorrow. Himne had, in a rage, challenged the man to a fight. He didn't lose exactly, but he didn't win either - and now his handsome face was marred by a cut that had only just stopped oozing green blood.

He wasn't excessively drunk - if he was, he wouldn't still be reflecting on these sorrowful things. People passing by looked at him with disdain at his appearance - his expensive overcoat, usually immaculately buttoned, now draped loosely around his shoulders and his hair was a bit ruffled, but who cared?

And then there was the fact that he was drinking Romulan ale, illegal in the Federation. But it wasn't exactly a capital offense - and besides, he, as a diplomat, had immunity, so the worst they could do was to ask Senator Omar to punish him.

Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a woman coming around the corner. Not a human woman, no - a Vulcan one. His ex-girlfriend had been Vulcan, although she stole all his clothes and left him wandering the corridor in a bathrobe for calling her one, so he had always referred to as human since then.

There was something else, too... He was sure he recognized her from somewhere, on some kind of Federation subspace broadcast. She was certainly attractive, but it wasn't that... what was the sport called? Hover-boarding? Ocean-boarding?

"Excuse me, ensign," he said in a rather slurred voice, recognizing the single pip on her collar. "You're Vulcan right? I tell you, for such a logical race, you people do like to be heartbreakers don't you? Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" In his drunken state, all the questions kind of came out at once.

The Vulcan Tsunami let her thoughts consume her as she travelled between her "quarters" in the Cetacean lab and the recreation center. Currently, she was pleased to let the problem of the universal translator and the Tritonian language expand, pushing her other difficulties from her mind. Some might say it not logical to avoid her problems in such a way, but T'Ashaya understood a deeper logic summarized in a Terran proverb: don't cross bridges until you come to them.

It seemed especially appropriate that the proverb should come to her now. She had not ever expected to run into anyone from the staff of the Ambassadorial contingent aboard the ship as she went about her duties aboard the ship. More specifically, she had not ever expected to have any cause to interact with an of the Romulan Ambassadorial contingent.

T'Ashaya steeled herself mentally, then reached out and steadied the inebriated Romulan, for it was as obvious to her that he was Romulan as it was to him that she was a Vulcan. "You should stop drinking before you make a greater fool of yourself," T'Ashaya admonished, compassion in her voice hushed. "I'll take you back to your quarters, where you won't be an embarrassment to your government."

She held herself particularly well, like a lady from one of the high houses. Even as she moved into a better position to subtly offer further assistance, should the Romulan attaché require it. She did not, however, make any statements suggesting anything about the capabilities of the attaché, or the lack of them. She simply stated she believed he was making a fool of himself and embarrassing his government. Her tact in that matter also suggested a great deal more breeding and nobility than the simple ensign's pip that blonde woman's golden Starfleet uniform bore.

"I'm no fool! My former partner's a fool, that's for sure! Whatever size a mansion I bought her on Romulus, it wasn't enough..." he trailed off as T'Ashaya steered him round a corner.

"Wait," he suddenly said, remembering his earlier question hadn't been answered. "I know I've seen you before, in some kind of Terran sport. I can't remember what it's called - is it ocean-boarding or something like that?"

"I have heard of something similar. I believe the word you're looking for is 'surfing,'" T'Ashaya replied, sounding carefully neutral. A conversation about her rather extensive surfing career, of all things, was one of several conversations she did not care to ever have with a drunken Romulan.

She artfully guided him into the lift. She changed the topic of conversation with equal skill. "Perhaps the difficulty with your partner was that she had no interest in real estate. Perhaps you underestimated her interest in real estate. It is unimportant. You are still making a fool of yourself now," her tones remained hushed, even as she requested the correct deck for the ambassadorial quarters.

"As a member of the honourable Ambassador's staff, I would have expected that you would have heard there is currently an Admiral aboard, one with a reputation for murdering her own family to advance her causes and a appetites that even you, in your current state of intoxication, would find excessive. Under the circumstances, I imagine the honorable Ambassador would have warned his staff against making any sort of scene while the Admiral is aboard." She kept a dignified distance from him while still maintain a light touch on his arm.

The smell of the ale on his breath was strong in such a confined space, but not entirely unpleasant as Romulan women still had similarly acute senses of smell. Romulan brewers simply could not get away with the pure skunk oil that passed for alcohol on Earth. In some ways, that knowledge alone was something of a comfort. T'Ashaya knew the old stories all too well about what Romulans did to members of the opposite sex, if they got hold of them. She also knew that, while those days might be past, they were not so far from Vulcan memory as the Vulcan Representative to the Federation might like to tell the Federation Council. At the moment, however, she was not concerned about that. Her concern lay solely in returning the attaché to the Romulan suite before anyone discovered he, a) had contraband (in the form of Romulan Ale, banned of itself and alcoholic besides) and b) was wandering about in a disgraceful state, possibly picking fights.

At least, his face looked like he'd picked a fight. T'Ashaya remained unwilling to commit to a hypothesis about whether the fight was with some other being aboard the Galaxy, or with some inanimate object he stumbled against.

"I imagine you'll be lucky not to come out of this with a reprimand from the Ambassador," she chastened the drunk. She sounded a bit like an indulgent an older sister who was worried about the behaviour of her younger brother. Even now, in the privacy of the turbolift, her voice remained hushed when she spoke, as if someone might overhear.

"I doubt it," Himne said. "I'm the only qualified diplomat in a forty parsec radius. After all, it's not like Romulus is nearby is it?"

He looked at her quizzically. "So, why is it that you Vulcans, priding yourself on being so logical, are such heartbreakers? Caught my half-Vulcan former partner making out with some stranger, I did. Admittedly she's half human, but you can tell she doesn't have a regular Vulcan pon farr cycle, or maybe she just has a constant pon farr. What do you think?" He continued to slur his words.

The Vulcan Tsunami decided it best to choose the battle that had a logical conclusion. "Since you have asked for my opinion, I think you expect the wrong things from your partner. Set your expectations closer to reality and you will find yourself disappointed less often. For the greater part, however, I think it's none of my concern," T'Ashaya replied. She still sounded like a high-born woman at a state function, refined, sophisticated, likely learned about a great many interesting topics for conversation - in this instance a bored high-born woman uninterested in the present topic of conversation, but one putting up a good front for the sake of being a gracious host. She did not, of all the improbable things she might be, sound like an ensign aboard a starship.

The turbolift came to a stop, opening on the floor where the Ambassador's quarters were located. T'Ashaya gently guided the attaché to the suite occupied by the Romulan contingent. When they were near to the suites, T'Ashaya gave him one last nudge in the correct direction.

"Perhaps you could benefit from some advice I once heard given about affairs of the heart," T'Ashaya offered. "I do not know from experience, but I have heard it said that in instances like these, perhaps it is better to believe that the woman in question was not worthy of your time, your energies, or your affections."

"Perhaps," Himne nodded thoughtfully (at least, what passed for thoughtfully when drunk.)

"I'm sure I've seen you somewhere, though," Himne returned to the previous topic of conversation. "I remember, specifically, it was about eight years ago. Normally Terran programs aren't aired on Romulus, but it was to commemorate the Rihannusu and Federation joining forces against the Dominion. My life story is what humans call 'rags to riches,' so that year was the first time ever I owned a holo-vision set. That's why I remember..."

"Wait," he trailed off. "If you're a Vulcan, what were you doing on Earth in a Terran sport, of all things? Maybe I've had too much to drink after all..."

"Indeed," T'Ashaya stated.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of Senator Omar's quarters opening. The doors swished open and an embarrassed looking ambassador emerged.

"Jolan' Tru, ensign," he said solemnly. "I apologize for my Erredn disturbing you in his present... state. He means well, but has had a rough day today. I hope it was not too much of an inconvenience."

"Good evening, Ambassador," T'Ashaya responded. Her voice sounded both pleasant and neutral. "As we did not encounter the Admiral, I do not believe I have been inconvenienced."

"Come, Erredn," he hissed angrily at Himne, and stormed back into his quarters without another word.

"I guess this is it then," Himne said as the doors closed behind him.

He held out his quarter-full bottle of ale. "Do you want to keep this? It's good stuff, vintage from the year 2309, from my personal collection. What's your name by the way?"

"Your gift is most gracious. I was not prepared for an exchange of gifts. I have nothing to give you in return. Please forgive me." T'Ashaya could not count the number of times she heard her mother, a Federation Ambassador, say those words while growing up. One never knew if it meant that her mother planned to keep the gift or turn it away. The words could mean either. T'Ashaya realized now the formula simply gave her mother longer to decide if taking or politely refusing the gift was the more logical and the more diplomatic choice.

She weighed the consequences. After her all too recent experience with Firestorms and Corran Rex, T'Ashaya had sworn off strong drink. It made one susceptible to suggestion. Additionally, as a formally betrothed woman, accepting a gift from a man other than her childhood bondmate was socially unacceptable. On the other hand, this was a most polite way to confiscate the illicit substance. As a Starfleet officer, it was her duty to confiscate it.

T'Ashaya took the proffered bottle. "Thank you. Your gift is too kind. The Ambassador is waiting." Go sleep it off, the Vulcan Tsunami subtly urged. "I am certain things will seem clearer in the morning. Good evening."

She turned and walked away without further comment. As she left, there was no evidence of formal military training in her walk. She moved like a slender blade of grass in a gentle breeze. She moved like a classically trained Vulcan woman. After she had disappeared into the turbolift, the light dawned. She'd left and she hadn't even given him her name.

“Breaking the Link”

Primary characters: Ethan Suder (APC)

&

Dhanishta Eshe

Guest staring:

K'Eytyanna Samara (APC - authorised appearance of this Galaxy TOS character, Written by Kelly)

**

Location Qono’S (Klingon home world)**

**

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

**

Catching his breath Ethan leaned against the wall. Pushing the chime hard without hesitation he composed himself. Straightening up he smoothed his shirt and raked his hand through his hair.

The comm. Crackled,

[“NuqneH?”]

Ethan paused; he was a little rusty on his Klingon, “Kay?” he questioned.

There was a pause over the line.

Ethan’s breath caught in his throat. Was he at the wrong house? He could feel his hands shake slightly with nerves.

[“HIja.”] the voice replied slowly over the comm.

Ethan swallowed hard, “Kay, its me.” he could have kicked himself, “It’s Ethan Suder.” he corrected. He began to wonder if she would remember him. Oh hell this was turning out to be a bad idea!

He heard her breath over the line and then static. Ethan could feel his heart begin to race, “I was just in the neighbourhood…” he started feeling pathetic and stupid. What if she had a husband, or kids or….. his mind raced and the comm. line closed.

Ethan bit his lip and took a step back.

The wind died down and the dust settled on the pavement. The brawl that had erupted from the bar several minuets ago hushed and the streets emptied; all at once everything went deftly silent.

Ethan held his breath.

Closing his eyes Ethan shivered as the wind picked up chilling him. His coat flapped around his ankles. His mind raced with the possibilities, the uncertainty tugged at his consciousness. The dream replayed, he felt suspended in the moment, hearing his heart beat flooding his ears as the blood rushed to his face. His hands trembled. Opening his eyes Ethan found himself surrounded by a sea of gold, ears of corn caressing his outstretched hands. Turning he surveyed the beauty of the landscape.

The field stretched on for as far as the eye could see. Small dark lines of hedgerows were the only indication that one field ended and another began. In the distance his eyes fell upon the wooden house. He smiled at the image and continued to move slowly to his right.

The landscape changed from the prosperous golden fields, full of ripe corn ready for the harvest, to a barren one. The soil was dry and cracked with a small tuft of grass here and there. As he looked further he saw the dirt change to sand and rocks. The sand continued far into the distance beyond the horizon.

This wasn’t his place. This wasn’t the dream. It had been contaminated.

He walked through the field, slowly at first, and then broke out into a run. The sun beat down upon his head; little beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. As the field ended and the sand started he stopped sharply, his momentum carrying him, making him slip. Regaining his balance he looked up, his jaw dropped as he saw a tornado twisting across the land. The dust swirled at its sides like a thick fog. There was nothing else out here. The twister had cleared the land. Taken everything!

Around him he could feel this reality, this place, closing in on him. It was like a portal to another world, its tattered edges visible now, like threads of cotton. He stepped backwards until he could feel the solid earth beneath his feet. His chest tightened.

After awhile, the door swung open a bit, and a rough furry blur sprang out, jumping up at Ethan.

He flinched slightly as the images faded and this… this thing bounced up and down before him. Blinking several times Ethans’ eyes began to focus. He looked down at the targ and frowned. His eyes stared at the ground behind it and began to trail upwards as the door opened.

Once the door was fully open, K'Eytyanna stood there with a young little girl in her arms, squirming and baring fangs playfully at the new person.

Ethan stood mesmerised by her beauty. She hadn’t changed a bit, and he couldn’t believe that it was really her. After all this time she was standing right before him…

K'Eytyanna looked out at Ethan and then down before as she snapped, "D'Akana, down!! NOW!!"

Looking up as her pet targ sat on its haunches at her feet looking pitiful, she grinned, "It's great to see you. Come in. I don't believe you ever met my daughter, Penny."

Ethan stared at the girl in Kay’s arms. Her fangs glinted in the light, mocking him. Mocking his dream; he should have known that she would have children; he should have known that he wasn’t ‘the one’.

His heart stilled for a moment as he found himself standing in the field. What had flourished was now as barren as the adjoining portal. He stood his breath evaporating in the air before him, the ground frozen at his feet. He could feel the dream fading, crumbling around him. He could feel his heart tearing just that much more. The black hole loomed up before him and he trembled before it.

His mind began to race.

He heard the sound of a child laughing and turned towards it. A huge tree stood, not far from the house, its leaves bright green rustled in the breeze. He watched as he saw a tyre swing underneath, bouncing as if someone had just jumped off it.

His eyes moved back to the house, to the wooden porch; he could hear footsteps drumming along it.

And still the laughter rung in his ears.

There was always a child here, he realised.

The black hole disappeared and Ethan took a long breath. He smiled to himself. There was still a chance. There was still hope.

He turned to his right, towards the portal that was now a small circle, no bigger than a doorway.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

The portal closed, for good. He watched as it blinked out of existence and his world, his dream became his again…

Ethan blinked the images away and looked at the child in Kay’s arms,

“No I haven’t met Penny.” Ethan said taking a step forward and tickling the little girl under her chin, “She is beautiful Kay…” Ethan smiled and bowed his head as he entered; looking down at the floor, trying to hide his grin he closed the door gently behind him.

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

Around her the dust still swirled. She had given in, she had relented. Why did it continue? Was it not done with tormenting her with her insignificant life?

Dhani closed her eyes, but it didn’t help. She could feel it spin around her, faster and faster. She opened her eyes for a second to confirm what she felt, a blur of colour rushed past her so fast it felt as if it penetrated her vision, violated it. She closed her eyes tightly trying to block out the feeling of nausea. It was like being on one of those little roundabouts that were in children’s playground. The G-force pulling at you, your head and shoulders continually pulled by the swirling motion, your stomach lurching with every turn, yet you still held on and still cried out ‘Faster, faster.’

Though Dhani didn’t have anything to hold on to, and she didn’t want to go faster, she wanted it to stop, just stop. She wanted to get off this ride… but it wasn’t a ride….

She could feel herself rising up through the twister, higher and higher as it spun. She opened her eyes and looked up, or was that down?

And then it hit… and everything stopped. Well Dhani didn’t, the momentum carried her and she bounced like a tennis ball along the ground.

The darkness was as black as ebony, yet the energy crackled all around… As Dhani looked up, her head still spinning, the sky split with sheet lightening. Thunder rolled across the valley and the rain beat down upon the dry earth. The water mingled with the sand and soil turning it to mud.

Dhani stared in disbelief, there was sky? She rolled over feeling the mud soaking her clothes. Blinking several times, still not believing what she saw, she gawped as she pushed herself up on to her knees.

The rain continued to beat down heavily, thumping on her head, the water level rising millimetre by millimetre. She was in the same place she had been when the dust cloud had taken her. Behind her was the cavern she had hid in. Before her she could make out the creator in the distance slightly to the left, to her right down the hill was the walled garden and to her immediate left was the huge cliff face. But the house… the house had gone, along with the golden fields the trees and the hedges…

The wind picked up flapping the sodden clothes around her. She could hear the gates of the garden rattle as the wind continued down the hill. It whipped across the land causing the sand in the creator to rise up in the air like mist.

Dhanishta stared at the garden, watching in confusion as it rolled up before her on some unseen wave presenting itself. The gates swung open with force, the chain breaking into shrapnel. The trees rushed past as the garden zoomed in around her until she was staring into the eyes of a small child, no more than eight years old.

Dhanis brow furrowed as she stared at the girls features. She was a small child, bony and thin, her face sullen and skin taught. Her eyes contained a look that Dhani had only seen in the eyes of a war veteran; cold and penetrating, the infamous thousand yard stare. This was strange, she had heard of her whole life flashing before her eyes, but, hadn’t they already done this part?

Dhani looked past the girl and into the thicket of trees that loomed behind her; their trunks black as if they had been burnt or covered in a thick oil, split and mottled, their branches twisted up towards the sky in ghoulish forms.

A cackle erupted from the trees, cold and harsh. Dhani watched as the laughter took shape, flowing, bending, lurching forward.

She shuddered as the image zoomed out and the gates squeaked on their hinges as they closed; the cackle echoing through eerily.

Dhani looked out across the muddy plains once more; the garden looked as if it had never moved. The rain continued and the thunder roared above her. She tried to stand up but slipped in the mud, falling back onto her buttocks. She sat for a moment cursing the thick sludge that encased her hands and feet. Something twinkled in the distance catching her eye. This time it was within the crater, she stared as the sand began to curl upwards, the lightening flashed as the image formed making Dhani jump. She leaned forward curiously and squinted. The sand rose and began to take shape, every flash of lightening bringing it closer. She recognised the uniform, black pressed trouser, black tunic with grey shoulders and a gold polo neck underneath; a Starfleet officer. The face was a little more difficult to make out. But as the form advanced Dhanishta could identify it.

Dhani turned towards the cliff. She watched as another figure immerged; same woman as the one in the uniform, dressed all in white. She held herself high and walked with a grace that Dhanishta had never seen before. She marvelled at her composure, the air of harmony that she projected as she crossed the hill, almost floating…

Dhani looked back towards the crater, at the ‘uniform’ that was still approaching, and then towards the garden where the child had been.

The child, the uniform, the woman in white… they were all one and the same!

Dhanishta scrambled to her feet. She could see the little girl now at the foot of the hill. The other two seemed to glide across the valley. She trembled as they came closer and closer.

And then they were there, right in front of her and she could feel their hot breath on her skin.

The child and her dark shadow, the officer and the woman in white; each of them took another step until they walked, flowed, into Dhanishta. Each one a fragment of her shattered self, torn from each other by the effects of the link, finally reunited and became whole once more….

And Dhanishta breathed…

Inhaling deeply as if it was her last and final breath, she savoured it, cherished it. She could feel her lungs swelling and filling; the life giving oxygen flowing into her. And as she stood, her body taught, her hands outstretched, taking in all the air she could, feeling the hand that had suffocated her release its grip, the rain stopped.

"Decisions and Bad Timing"

Cdr. Cassius Henderson
XO, USS Galaxy

Lt. Cdr. Ekoma Janx (NPC)
Head Tactical Analyst

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

== Deck 5: Cass's Quarters ==

<Continued from "...Part I">

...Cass reached over to the stand that he kept by the door, and picked up a phaser rifle. "It has to be a drunk enlisted..." he muttered, raising it to his shoulder and setting it to stun.

He aimed at the doorway and stepped back, so that they wouldn't run into the barrel. "Come."

The door slid aside, triggered by his single word. Sighting down the barrel, he was more than ready to drive off whoever was on the other side. Ready, that was, for anyone but the one who stood there.

Wet and full of rage, T'Shani a'Akledorian stood in the doorway, clad only in one of Corran's towels. Before the door even slid aside, she was moving towards him.

"You have got to be kidding me..." he growled, loud enough for her to hear him.

Although she had known that she'd piss off Cass by barging in, so late at night, she hadn't expected him to be holding a BR55 at her. Instinctively, her Chalaasa'k training took over, and she grabbed the barrel of the rifle with both hands (thus losing purchase on the towel, which fell to the deck) and wrenched it away, then down; her superior strength easily snatching the weapon from his hands, before she had even realized she had done it.

Ekoma covered her mouth in strange fascination and terror at the spectacle before her: a totally wet, nude Andorian just easily disarmed Cassius! Hurriedly, she ran to the computer terminal in Cass's study.

Eyes flaring, antenna's laid all the way back on her slowly-drying hair, she growled at him. Yes, actually *growled*.

Had it been anyone else, Cass wouldn't have had a problem. Even if they'd managed to move fast enough to disarm him, he would have been able to deliver a follow up beating that would have left them with more than a hangover the next morning.

But, given the circumstances, and the blue balled pain slowly making it's way north from his hips, he was too stunned to move. "You..." he spat, anger at the interruption of their *perfect* evening slowly boiling inside of him, ready to spill over. He didn't care that he was the only one in the room wearing clothes. "You... WHY???"

"You wanted an answer, Cassius?!" her growl became more fierce, more throaty. Yep, she was definitely pissed. Not many had ever seen her this far gone, before. "Well, here it is!"

With that, she quickly stepped up to him, and...kissed him! Deeply, hungrily.

Ekoma bit her lip, trying not to let the shocked, hurt, gasp escape her. ~How could she?! How could *he*?!~

She thought back to her earlier question, "are you seeing anyone." Now, she thought, she understood why he hadn't answered her directly. Obviously, he *was*. She pressed the 'Cancel' button on the desktop terminal, decided not to call Security, after all. Hurriedly, she pulled her shirt back on.

If Cass had any illusions about not reacting so that she would go away, they were gone. He grasped her shoulders firmly, and shoved, though he tasted blood as she bit him just before their lips parted. Pushing her back toward the door, his face was a mask. He shook his head at her, "That is not what I was talking about. Get out, or I'm calling security."

T'Shani's feature's immediately shifted, like a child who'd just been scolded. "Cassius, I *love* you! Right here, right now! I finally realized that-"

This time, T'Shani was cut off, herself, by Janx, who appeared--fully clothed, now--at the doorway to Cassius's bedroom. "Really? So, you're not *seeing* anyone, Cassius?" she asked acidly, her once beautiful and soft features turning sharp and deadly as her green eyes glowered menacingly at him, then the still-unclothed Andorian bitch with a nasty scar across her front. She recognized her as the Marine CO, T'Shani.

"No, I'm not seeing anyone," he replied, keeping his voice even. This was going to take some salvaging. He turned back to T'Shani. "Tish, you are my friend, and I care about you. But let me make this very clear to all involved. We are not, nor will be, lovers. Go home, and I'll forget this ever happened."

"But, Cass, but I-" realizing that she was naked, she snatched at the towel she had dropped on the floor. ~Rhooz, rhooz, RHOOZ!!~ she swore. ~What have I done?!~ she thought as she looked from Cass, to Janx, then back to Cass, her legs frozen in place, not allowing her to move an inch.

"No bother," Janx said coolly. "It's getting too crowded in here, Cassius. Thanks for dinner." With that, she briskly walked past T'Shani--fixing an icy, deadly glare on the woman--and out into the corridor, the swish of the doors only adding an exclamatory ending to her departure.

Cass closed his eyes for a second, willing the explosion not to come. A moment later, he opened them, the anger behind his eyes replaced by bitterness. Turning his back on T'Shani, he walked toward his bathroom. "Replicate yourself something to wear and wait," he pointed at his replicator, then to the couch.

"I'm going to take a cold shower, calm down, and ice my balls," he spat, disappearing into the bathroom and slamming the door before she could follow. He yelled out, "Be sitting on the couch when I get out."

Gathering the towel tighter around her form, she did as instructed, clearly understanding that Cassius wasn't speaking as a friend, right now. ~Well, what did you expect, Tish?~ that little voice asked her from the back of her mind.

Hearing the rush of water from Cass's bathroom, Tish slinked over to the replicator, and requested the appropriate clothing, deciding on a tight-fitting civilian jumpsuit, rather than her uncomfortable uniform.

Cassius took a long shower. He didn't have any other choice, given that he was pretty much doubled over in pain. It was a little known fact among the female gender that when a man was involved in *intimate* activity for an extended period of time and was left... unsatisfied, that man was going to be in a world of hurt.

It wasn't a sharp pain. More like a dull ache, moving north from his balls, slowly spreading north to his throat. It felt, for all the world, like his testicles were attempting to strangle him out of frustration.

"I-" she stopped short, the syllabic response choking in her throat.

~"I love you, Cass?"~ No, she couldn't say *that* now, now that she had cooled down and realized the implications of what she had just done. To his credit, T'Shani was more than surprised--and thankful--that Cassius hadn't had Security haul her off in binder cuffs to the Brig. Thori knew, she would have, if it were her in his position.

But she couldn't bring herself to say it again, even though she felt it pushing at her, screaming to explode from her chest. Instead, she fixed her gaze on the corner of the low coffee table, trying to focus on a chip in the fake wood veneer.

~What do I do?~ she thought, panic setting in. On the battlefield, or in a meeting with powerful Generals and Star Marshalls, she could command a room. But here, sitting across from the man she thought she was in love with, she couldn't bring herself to say the words that might just help atone for her sins.

But then again, they might just damn her to a colder Hell.

"I've made a terrible mistake, tonight. Twice," she paused, still staring down at the table like a small child that was told by its mother to explain a grave misdeed. Standing, up as if to leave, she kept her eyes away from him, looking to the doorway that she had so inelegantly barged in through. "I won't ever bother you again, Cass," her voice tightened, realizing what she was saying, without feeling completely attached to the words.

"Sit down," he said quietly. As much as he could appreciate her position, she had fouled his potential relationship with Ekoma, before it could even begin. "That wasn't a request, Lieutenant."

Tish winced slightly, her antennas wavering as she realized that he was now speaking to her as a superior officer, and not as a friend. But what else *should* she expect? She did as told, fixating again on the chipped wood.

"I want to know exactly what happened to bring you to this point," he said, still quieter than she'd ever heard him. "And understand that the only reason you're not sitting on your naked ass in a brig cell right now is because of our 'friendship'."

She once again winced slightly at the venom added by Cassius to that last word, "friendship". She knew that relationship was now tenuous, if that anymore. "I can't Cassius. But I'll leave, after this mission, I swear." After all the foolish decisions she had made, that day, she actually felt calm overcome herself for the first time at that pronouncement. "And I'll leave you and Ekoma alone. You..." she choked on the word, batting an eye and cursing the tear welling up there, "deserve her."

A flash of anger crossed her face, quickly replaced by impassivity again. She couldn't bring herself to say it aloud, the moment past. But in her mind, the words raced.

~I love you, Cassius. I *LOVE* you. For the first time in my entire life, I feel that I can actually trust a man, without having everything taken from me. I've known this since we first met, in the gym. And it was reaffirmed to me when you saved me from Rel'kessan.

~You *SAVED* me! No one has ever done that for me, before. I've had to *fight*, for everything I have. And now I realize how foolish I've been. I don't care if you'll ask for my resignation, or not. It will be done, anyway. But I will still always love you, Cassius Henderson.~

Instead, she finally met his gaze, her eyes lighting again with renewed determination, narrowing to cool, yellow slits. She couldn't tell him the truth, the reason she was even aboard Galaxy again in the first place. If he was made aware of the Watchers, he'd be in danger.

~Damn Alindal! Damn myself!~ she shouted at herself. She should have never accepted the offer. But it had been too good: help them destroy the Romulan Star Empire. Everything she always wanted to do to the Thuurg'a Greenbloods who had destroyed her world, brutally murdered her clan and hundreds of others, and raped and scarred her.

~No,~ she thought. She resolved to finish this mission, then disappear, for good this time. And there was only one way to do that best.

Leaning in to where he was sitting, she laid a cool, blue hand on Cassius's strong chest. Leaning in to whisper into his ear, she spoke very softly, eyes and antennas darting, "They're watching, Cassius. Thori save me, but I may have jeopardized everything."

Then, almost imperceptibly, she added: "I love you."

Quickly, she pulled away, and walked to the door, not caring if he *did* call the guards. She was done, and she resolved that she would never come back to him in this way again. *If* she ever came back to him.

Stealing one last look to him, she slipped out the door.

Cass stood up and followed her to the door, watching her retreating backside. There it was. Everything out in the open. The 'Watchers', her feelings. He knew better than to follow her now. She was going to have it her way, whether he wanted her to or not. So Cass did what he did best. He walked back into his quarters, took out the Strategema board, and started the program.

An hour later, after maneuvering the computer into a crushing defeat, he knew what he had to do. Turning on his computer, he typed out a message to Mouse.

NOTE: Sexual references.

"Decisions and Bad Timing, Part I"

Cdr. Cassius Henderson
XO, USS Galaxy

Lt. Cdr. Ekoma Janx (NPC)
Head Tactical Analyst

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

== Turbolift: En route from Deck 38 ==

"Deck 5!" the dripping-wet Andorian woman called angrily into the air as she clutched a towel around her otherwise wet and naked form. Several passers-by in the hall had given her strange looks, but had wisely held their tongues upon seeing the fierce and almost savage look in her eyes.

~Thuuk,~ she swore to herself. She knew she had made an ass out of herself in front of Corran. She knew that he was right. She knew....

~What?! Whatwhatwhatwhat.....~

"WHAT?!!!" she screamed at the top of her lungs into the air of the small turbocar as it sped up to deck five.

["Please restate your request,"] the infuriating computer intoned.

"Oh, not you, *too*!" she yelled again, while striking the traslum LCARS control panel, thus causing her to lose the grip on her towel, sending it to the floor.

*SWISH*

"Uh...Ma'am...?"

Tish whirled to new voice, coming face to face with the owner of said voice, surprised that the damned doors had opened so quickly. Without word, she gathered the towel from car's floor, re-wrapped herself, and shot the Ensign a withering gaze before quickly pushing past the still-astonished young man. "I can kill a man in 87 different ways, Ensign," she growled. "You didn't see any of this, understood?"

"Uh..uh-huh," he nodded meekly, before retreating from the odd blue spectacle, into the turbocar.

Tish waited for the sound of the closing doors before letting out a long sigh. ~Now where to, Genius?~ She knew she should call it a night, and go back to her own quarter's. ~Thori knows, I've done enough damage tonight,~ she reasoned. But...

~'You love Cass!'~

Corran's voice echoed in her mind, once more. With new resolve, she marched down the corridor, scowling convincingly at anyone who dared to gawk.

------------------- Cass's Quarters... -------------------

"The dinner was *wonderful*, Cassius," Ekoma Janx said as she helped him clear the table. "I didn't know you knew how to prepare *Clissish*."

"I am many things," Cass replied, enjoying himself for the first time in several days. "Cook is one of my favorites, though I often have little time for it. When you mentioned that you liked Clissish on Monday, it seemed to be the logical thing to do."

Their quiet evening together had gone very well so far. They'd started out on the holodeck, as she'd wanted to show him a place on Earth that was special to her. Ekoma Janx's father, the late Captain Dorrun Janx, had been an instructor at Starfleet Academy Annapolis, built on the sight of the old United States Naval Academy.

After a short hike into the woods, Ekoma had lead him by the hand, emerging from the forest on a rocky outcropping that overlooked a vast valley, covered in woodlands and small towns. It was a view that reminded them both of the simple pleasures of living.

Now, as the evening was starting to wind down, Cass felt anxious. The evening had been far more normal than his recent relations with the other women in his life, neither of whom seemed able to make up their mind. He found that for that exact reason, he wasn't quite ready for the evening to end. He liked Ekoma, for her honesty and openness.

She set the dishes in the replimat, then pulled her hands away as they shimmered away. Teasingly, she bumped Cass with her hip, then smiled up at him, before setting a mockingly-serious gaze upon him. "'The *logical* thing to do'? My, my-"she pretended to study his ears very closely, "you don't look to be Vulcan to me, Cassius." She smiled again, relishing how his name felt on her tongue.

~Cassius....Cassius...~

"But Ekoma," he smiled, letter her name escape his lips, "There's a flaw to your... logic. Vulcans aren't the only ones who can follow a path to it's..." He casually draped an arm around the lithe young woman's waist, pulling her to him. "... logical conclusion."

~This is it, Janx,~ Ekoma said to herself. She couldn't help but let an infectious grin spread across her face, her emotions playing in her bright green eyes. Ever since she had come aboard as the Galaxy's Tactical Analyst, she had been drawn to Cassius Henderson. She had even stolen a few glances at him during her bridge duties. But only recently had he shown any interest in *her*, as well. In fact, it was only by chance that he had stopped by her office and asked about the holoprogram that she had mentioned to him a few weeks ago. But she was glad that he had...this was the perfect evening.

"Cassius?" she asked, casting her eyes upwards in a doe-like gaze.

"Yes?" he asked, her grin proving as infectious as she'd thought it to be, his own features shifting into a wide smile. All thoughts of his troubles, be they with women or with the Hydrans, were nowhere near the front of his mind. He moved his other hand up to rest at the nape of her neck, enfolding her into his arms.

"Are you-" she paused, testing the waters, as it were, "*seeing* anyone, right now?"

"Well, my eyes are open, and I'm seeing you," he replied, turning her words around. "And I like what I see."

Ekoma paused for a moment, noticing how he skirted away from answering the question directly. For the hundredth time, she wished that she were Joined, if at least to have some understanding at...*relationships*. Instead, she buried her doubts, deciding to trust him. She had so far.

"Good, because I like what I'm seeing, too," she looked up, her searching green eyes holding his soft brown. She could just stare into those eyes all day, and get lost in them....

"I was hoping that you'd say that," he replied, hoping no more. The moment he'd been waiting for had arrived. Bowing his head, he moved his lips down to meet hers, their eyes locking as he did.

As their lips pressed together, Ekoma felt a multitude of wonderful feelings course through her body, from her heart beating rapidly to her increased breathing, to the warm *need* growing deep within her. Slipping her arms from his embrace, her fingers played along the hem of his shirt, pulling, tugging on it as their kissing grew harder, more passionate.

Cass embraced the moment, slipping his tongue in, exploring her mouth and entangling it with her own. He was alive, with the thoughts coursing through his mind, the blood pumping rapidly through his heart, and the raw desire... lower on his body. His fingers ran through her blonde hair, resting gently behind her head.

Without thinking, she raised her arms above her head, clearly indicating what she wanted Cassius to do with her uniform shirt. Luckily, he figured that detail out pretty quickly, then pulled her over to the overstuffed couch that was set against his cabin portals. Groaning slightly with pleasure as he caressed the curves of her breasts with one hand, while undoing her pants with the other, she attacked his own trousers in return.

Instinctively, Cass shifted his hips to allow her easier access, all the while exploring every inch of her body with his hands. Her curves, her shoulders, her breasts, her hips, and her firm ass. He reached behind her and unclasped her bra with a practiced twist of his fingers, leaving the other hand free to continue it's exploration.

Her breathing became deeper, a little more ragged as that feeling...that primal urge to be *filled* announced itself from between her legs. She could feel the heat, the moistness rising. Giggling as he threw the bra to some far-off corner of the room, she couldn't help but sigh contentedly as his left hand explored the small of her back, then went lower, down her buttocks, while the other hand was getting pretty close to 'home plate', itself.

She held his hand, to keep it from going any lower on her abdomen, and smiled wickedly. "Going straight for the goods, Mister?" she asked teasingly.

"Only if you want me to," he replied, shifting his weight and pulling her with him. She came easily, offering no resistance, to rest comfortably on his chest, arms folded across it. He knew that if they stopped now, he was going to be blue balled for a week, but he had to give her the option.

She craned her neck down, so that her lips barely brushed his ears, all the while her arm reaching down between *his* legs. "Oh," she whispered, while firmly cupping him, "I *want* you to." And with that, she rolled to the side on the couch, quickly chucking her pants, then rolled beneath him, so he could be on top.

He groaned, the pleasant sensation hitting him full force. It had been too long. Cass straddled her, wrapping a finger in both strings of the young Trill's revealing panties, and slowly beginning to draw them down her legs, revealing all of her. Slipping them over he feet at last, he tossed them aside, and prepared for the main event.

She looked up, expectantly, while simultaneously holding herself open with her fingers, she fixed her best "come hither" look, noticing that he had already divested of his clothing as well. She felt his body press into hers gently, yet solidly. He hunched over a little, so he could more easily enter into her...

*CHITTER-CHIRP*

"Oh, you're kidding me," he growled quietly, so only she could hear him, irritated at the interruption. Standing up, he retrieved his pants, pulling them on without any underwear. Walking over to the door, careful to draw up short of the sensor, he shouted. "If this isn't a crisis involving at least two hostile species, I don't care!"

Ekoma, who was a little shocked when he had so abruptly let go of her, scurried to find something to cover up in, just in case.

Only two loud, heavy thumps against the door were given in reply. Their intent was clear: open up, now.

Hearing her shift behind him, he turned back to Ekoma. "I'm going to get rid of them. You may want to go into the bedroom," he replied, for the sake of her modesty.

Ekoma sighed, collecting her panties, pants, and bra as she made a beeline for the bedroom.

Turning back to the door, he set his jaw. Whoever this was had picked a really bad time to piss him off. "Go. Away. Now. Unless. You. Are. Captain. M'Kantu. Do I have to spell it out to you?"

Then, a loud bang erupted from the door frame, as if someone had...kicked it?

Cass reached over to the stand that he kept by the door, and picked up a phaser rifle. "It has to be a drunk enlisted..." he muttered, raising it to his shoulder and setting it to stun.

He aimed at the doorway and stepped back, so that they wouldn't run into the barrel. "Come."

The door slid aside, triggered by his single word. Sighting down the barrel, he was more than ready to drive off whoever was on the other side. Ready, that was, for anyone but the one who stood there.

"Gender-Based Insanity"

Major Corran Rex
Counselor Ammanalyn Llywhyn

"Explain to me, would you," the Trill commander of Vanguard Squadron practically yelled as he burst into Ammanalyn's office unannounced "What in the 'verse is wrong with females of ANY species?"

Ammanalyn blinked at him. "Probably the same thing that's wrong with males of any species," she retorted, though in her soft, girlish voice, it didn't have the edge it probably should have. Whether that made the remark funnier or gave it more weight, though, it was impossible to tell. "Want to fill me in on the details?"

"Right." Corran said, waving a hand in the air. "Tish. T'Shani. She's... insane!"

"You're not the first to tell me this," Ammanalyn replied before biting her lips in amusement. This was unexpected from the fighter pilot, but explosions like this spiced up her life a little, she wasn't about to put an end to it. "How?"

"Alright. Look. We slept together a couple of nights ago. Alcohol, etc, etc." he said, filling her in on the back story. At the look she gave him, he adopted a hurt expression. "What? It wasn't planned. I swear."

"It wasn't a look of judgment," Ammanalyn said. "Do you think it should have been? Why don't sit down, Corran. I'll do my best to answer the questions, though I have a feeling Tish and I have more than a few things... well, not in common? Why don't you tell me what's confusing to you; I think it's safe to assume it's not the sex part."

"No, I'm pretty familiar with that." he replied frankly, and sat down. Letting out a sigh, he leaned back on the couch, spreading his arms across it's back as he did so. "I don't get it. I told her I didn't want a relationship, that I just wanted to be her friend. Now she thinks I think I'm too damn good for her!"

Ammanalyn's nose wrinkled. She'd be an idiot if she didn't know Corran Rex's reputation, and while she had to reserve any judgment there, she had to take it into a slight consideration. Rumors were rarely if ever 100% accurate, but they always had a slight degree of truth. "Well. Did you tell her this before or after you slept together?"

"Well, after." he conceded.

"You have to keep in mind, that while some people are okay with casual sex, others aren't-- whether or not alcohol is involved. Often times, some people find alcohol as an excuse to act on feelings that would otherwise make them vulnerable. I don't know Tish, I've never spoken to her, so I can't speak to her psychology specifically. But her feelings might have had truth to them-- there may have been reasons beyond lust or desire working for her. If that makes sense."

"Well, I didn't know she was in love with somebody else at the time, either." he muttered. "There should be a list on this damn ship."

"Hm. That complicates things." Ammanalyn scratched her hand absently through Tampatiaen's fur as she watched the Trill in front of her. "May I ask something? How many women on the ship have you slept with?"

"That's a rhetorical questions, isn't it?"

"I suppose it could be. But it is one I would like you to think about. Promiscuous activity usually stems from some other... psychological concern. It's one thing to enjoy yourself and the physical nature of life. But sometimes it can become emotionally dangerous-- for you and the others involved." She studied his mannerisms, facial expressions. Truth was, she was a little concerned. He'd been through a lot in a short amount of time and she wished she could get him to open up about his motivations. "I'm also concerned because the last time we

spoke, you were in a committed, distance relationship. What happened with that?"

"Your memories fading, Am." he corrected, pointing at her. "You asked me the same question last time."

She stared at him, uncomprehending for a long moment. "Did I? When was that?" She looked away, disturbed she couldn't recall. She looked at Tampatiaen. Back to Rex. "I didn't."

He nodded.'

"Yep. Right after you refused to tell me what 'Am' meant in your language, and why you blushed every time I called you that."

"No. We spoke of Vorrin's daughter. But Tara Reynolds never entered into the conversation." Not out loud, anyway. She was almost positive. "I believe you're misremembering."

"I'm really not." he chuckled. "But if it makes you feel better.."

"I'm a half a milleneum old, Am." he shrugged. "I've been married, repeatedly. Mother, Father, Husband, Wife, Cop, Scoundrel, I've been a load of things. All I want in my last go-round is to enjoy things. Why do you think I'm a fighter pilot? There's no more exhilarating job in the galaxy."

"It's not a criticism, Corran, simply a comment. A reminder you're not the only one involved in your activities. Others are impacted too, as I think you're realizing with Tish's behavior."

"I told her I didn't want to hurt her." he said, shaking his head. "I mean, seriously - how can someone take that badly?"

"It usually precedes something that will hurt them," Ammanalyn replied with an arched brow.

Corran just fixed a glare on the diminutive counselor, and looked at her small familiar. "You got any ideas, little buddy?"

Tampatiaen raised his head, lifted an eyebrow, and gave him an affronted look as though to ask, You tawkin' to me? To me? "He won't speak to you," she said, "he very rarely speaks to anyone else, it's not our way." She paused, biting her lower lip. "If I may? Since this wasn't a scheduled session... my own... question, I suppose, for you. What's going on with the ship right now? As a counselor I don't really, well... have the opportunity to participate too actively in things. Just sit by, watch, deal with the consequences of the aftermath, but. I don't know. I was just wondering. The rumors and everything."

The fighter pilot just sort of shrugged. "There's an archaeological dig on the planet that the Hydrans claim belong to them. Thiner Commander's meeting with the Captain."

"Other than that, everybody's just trying to avoid Admiral what's-her-face.". He wasn't really concerned with that part, because the whole of the Starfleet Admiralty could go hand for all he cared. He didn't report to them.

"Hm," Ammanalyn muttered, and then sighed. "Okay. Well. I guess that sounds simple enough." She sat back in the sofa. "How are you doing, after the Incident? We haven't spoken since."

He frowned. "What incident?"

"On Trill. A while back."

"Oh." he replied, as the question brought back the images of Leran Manev on fire. Images of his home city burning didn't tend to make him feel particularly stable. "I'm fine." he lied. "I think Starfleet Security really slipped on the ball if a moron like Thomas can get his hands on two ships of the line like that."

She nodded. "I doubt things will work out too well for him. In the future."

"Yeah." he muttered. "What should I do, Am? About Tish?"

"Maybe if you told me a little more what happened..." she said, her voice trailing off, her large doe-eyes probing him. She had an idea. She always had an idea, the damn Dust. "I need a little more than she's crazy and thinks you're too good for her."

"No - see." the Trill started, shaking his head. "She thinks *I* think I'm too good for her."

"Oh." She frowned. "Why is that?"

"Because I turned her down this time." he frowned. "I think she thinks that I've gotten what I wanted and now I don't want anything to do with her."

"Why did you turn her down this time? What has changed?"

"But I didn't *say* I was too good for her." he continued, getting up from the table and starting to wave his hands around. Truthfully, he hasn't even registered that Ammalyn had spoken.

"I said it wouldn't be a good idea for us to sleep together again. She's got problems - I mean - she's fucking crazy!"

"Do you feel you're someone to judge that it?"

"What?" he asked, turning back to face her.

"Do you feel as though you're someone capable of judging whether or not someone is 'fucking crazy'?"

"Not.. clinically." he replied, sighing.

"Then how?"

"Just.." Corran started, and then stopped. "I forgot I was talking to a shrink for a second."

She frowned deeper, her forehead creasing. "What do you mean?" she asked. "How is it different whether or not you remember that I'm a psychologist?"

Corran rubbed his temple for a moment. "Just - forget I said that. Let's just say she's not a prime candidate for a relationship, even if I did want one, which I don't, and was what I told her in the first place."

"That's what I want you to explain, here. Why are females, of all species, so damn good at being unreasonable?"

"But why? You're not giving me a whole lot to work with here. And it would be reasonable for me, or any other woman in the universe. Well. Heterosexual. To ask the same thing about men."

"It shouldn't be that hard a question."

"The question is easy. It's the answer that's difficult," she said with a small smile. "But i know what you mean. If it's easy to answer, why don't you have one?"

"I haven't been a woman in about seven decades." he replied. "I understood it then. I seem to have forgotten it now."

"Heh. There's no answer for it. Every woman is different, every man is different, every situation is different. You can't judge or set a rule."

He fixed a stare on the tiny counselor then. "You're not helping."

"I'm sorry." Though, she clearly wasn't.

Corran just tossed his hands up in the air. "I was right. All of you are insane!" he muttered, and turned for the door. Muttering to himself, he stormed out of the Counselor's office as quickly as he'd stormed into it.

Ammanalyn looked at Tampatiaen and sighed, pushing herself to her feet. In a blink, she was at the door, then she had almost cut him off, hand resting on his chest. "She's desperate and lost. There's more to it than you and Cass. It goes deeper than that. She's lost and she needs an even keel right now. She doesn't know where else to get it. When women get... confusing like this, it's because they are even more confused and trying to gain some power in a powerless situation."

"Right." he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I should know that. Thanks, Am."

"Why did you really come in here? Was it really just that?"

Maybe he'd just been trying to see too much into statements - particularly from female associates of late - but his eyes narrowed at the question. "Hunh?"

"I feel that I haven't been clear... I don't know why. Is there some other reason you came here?" She cocked her head to the side. "You could have figured this out on your own, if you paused a minute, especially with all the past experience you've had on both sides of the gender line."

"Because.." he trailed. "Well, you're about the most stable woman I've ever met, Am."

"Am I?" she questioned. "Okay." She taped her palm against her face. "You know some pretty... what is the best term then? Fucked up women, huh?" Her eyes were bright as she said that, as though she didn't understand the meaning of the word she used.

That brought a chuckle out of Corran as he thought of Tish, of Pad, even to a degree, Erin. "I do at that."

"You can come to me. Any time."

"That almost sounds like an invitation, Am."

She poked him in the chest. "Mental health. Questions of a great nature. That's it. Daedryn... our physical nature is very different."

He cast a glance down at her body momentarily - he couldn't really help it. Now that Rex was whole again, it was simply.. too much in his nature. Or maybe Vorrin had just had a largely unhealthy influence on the symbiont. Either way. "Looks pretty compatible to me."

She rested a hand on Tampatiaen's head at her side, rubbing fingers in his fur, she cast a glance down. "No. It's not."

"If you say so." he smirked. He enjoyed the teasing, the flirting, the game, as much as he did the physical results. But in honestly, he did appreciate the offer for what it was. "But thank you."

She nodded. "You're welcome."

"Practice Makes Perfect"

[Backpost]

(Occurs the day after 'A Lung For To Rue')

Principal Characters:

Lt. Ella Grey
Flight Officer Angelienia
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 5
Ella Grey and Indigo Renkert's Quarters

As she had expected, shopping had not made her feel much better.

Ella sighed as she tossed her four heavy bags to the floor. There was a time when it would have, in her pre-Victor days, and she rolled her eyes at herself for thinking in pre-Victor terms.

Impossible man, Ella thought as she kicked off her shoes.

She noticed the note on the table, in Indigo's ransom-like script, and almost bypassed it for the shower. But curiosity won over and she walked over and picked it up.

"WHAT!" Ella yelled loudly.

***

USS Galaxy
Deck 4
Ship's Phaser Range

"How can you fit that in such a small space?"

Victor was positive that Angelienia knew more than he ever would - or would want to - about fitting large objects in small spaces, but he dutifully showed her again. "Like this."

***

USS Galaxy
Deck 5
Ella Grey and Indigo Renkert's Quarters

Just a heads up, Indigo's note read. There are rumors flying about that that Angie woman you hate with a firery passion has transfered to Security and they're playing hide the phaser- if you know what I mean. Thought it best to hear it from a friend first.

Ella kept her face neutral as she stormed to security. No sense in looking like she was going to murder the man considering that 1) they weren't dating, and 2) where she was heading, but was he ever going to get it!

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 39
Security Main

"Can I help you, Lieutenant?" The female Vulcan at the Security Desk asked in the polite tone Vulcans used for everything from wishing you a good day to telling you that your dog had died.

"Krieghoff." Ella said. "Where is he?"

"Phaser Range, Deck 4, Lieutenant. He's working with a trainee this morning, a Vanguard pilot that elected Security as her shipboard station."

Ella narrowed her eyes. "Oh really."

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?" the Vulcan woman called after Ella's departing back.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 4
Phaser Range

"Hi." Ella said to Victor, ignoring the other woman. "What time should I expect you for dinner?" Meanwhile her fingers were sending another message. ~~Do you know what rumors are flying through the ship at warp speed right now?~~

Victor held up a hand and quietly said, "Halt Program" before doing anything else. The phaser range program froze, and the training phaser in Angelienia's hand deactivated with a 'click.' "Is there a problem, Grey?" he asked with a frown.

"Not at all." Ella forced herself to smile. "What time will you be around for dinner?" Meanwhile, she signed quickly, ~~I've heard from five people already on my way that you're training with more than your phasers in here. What the hell are you training with her for anyway?~~

"I don't think I can make dinner, Grey. They want me back in Medical to do some more tests on my lung - there was a problem with the initial scans." He shrugged. "They haven't decided if they need to cut it out yet." His hands added, ~~ People say or believe what they want to, Grey. I'm qualifying her because she has to qualify to serve in Security, and since she's on my shift, it's my job.~~

"What, are they going to give you a new one?" Ella scoffed. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Whether her second statement was referring to the lung or to Angie's training, even Ella didn't know.

"One would expect so, yes," Victor replied blandly.

Ella wondered when the other woman was going to say something. Angelienia was being too quiet and it unnerved her. There wasn't much she could do with the information about Curtis now, since Victor already knew, but Ella didn't like her knowing. Almost as much as she didn't like her being so close to Victor.

"Wait a moment." Angelienia's voice was soft and sultry, but there was an edge of something sharp in it. "You're not serious are you?"

Victor didn't bother to turn around. "I'm always serious, Flight Officer."

The Ktarian frowned. "If these lab geeks don't like something about your *lung* you're just going to let them *cut it out?*"

"Yes."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" she snapped.

Ella hated, absolutely hated, that they agreed on anything. Oh well, she thought, at least I look pretty when *I* frown. "You can't let them do that, Victor. I wont let them do that."

"I doubt that you're going to have much to say about it, Grey," Victor observed tonelessly. 'There are regulations about things like this for a reason."

"What, to keep you from breathing?" Angelienia snapped.

"No, to prevent another cycle of Eugenics Wars, Flight Officer: wars between the genetically-enhanced and the genetically-natural over control of the human race's destiny." He glanced at her. "Only it won't be just the human race this time, it will be the Federation that will be torn apart."

"That's absurd," Angelienia disagreed. "Even the Mouse, here, would agree with me on that. Your lung isn't going to start a war."

"Exactly," Ella agreed and then scowled because she had just agreed with something Angie, Wicked Psycho of the West, had said. "And stop calling me mouse."

"Of course, dear, I'll be sure and do that," the Ktarian answered sweetly.

Ella ignored her. "Dinner, Victor?"

"I don't know, Grey," he repeated. "If these tests take as long as the last ones, then no, there won't be time." Even if Grey wanted to talk like she said she had before leaving for the starbase, there wasn't time for it tonight.

"That's a pity," Angelienia interjected.

"Not as much as your face is." Ella said sweetly.

Angelienia blinked, and then a slow smile spread across her face. "Not good enough," she replied, "but at least you're trying now. I'd so hate for this to be too easy."

"Is there anything else, Grey?" Victor asked before Ella could respond further. "If I don't get the Flight Officer qualified today, we'll be back here tomorrow to do it all over again."

"Oh that's no problem," Angie added. "Stay as long as you like, dear." Her smile exposed just the tips of her pointed canines.

Ella's eyes narrowed and then she smiled. "If you insist, Flight Officer. Victor, please hand me a weapon."

Victor looked from one of the women to the other and wondered what they were really talking about, then decided that it was easier to not know and nodded. "all right, Grey." He acquired another training phaser from the locker, checked the settings and handed it to Ella.

"Simultaneous targets, or sequential?" h asked the two.

"She can choose," Angelienia offered. "Like I said, I wouldn't want this to be too easy."

Ella shot her a look. "Simultaneous targets." She only hoped that she managed to hit some of them. It had been awhile since she had shot at anything. But as long as the two of them weren't alone together....

Victor looked at them again, shrugged, and activated the controls. "Standard series, alternating targets, the Flight Officer has green, you have orange, Grey. Ready?"

"I'm always ready," Angelienia chuckled softly.

Ella's hands replied something nasty before she grabbed a hold of her phaser.

Victor was glad he'd insisted on training phasers for the session. If they'd been real weapons, he'd have felt compelled to stun Grey to keep her from shooting Angelienia, and he somehow didn't think that would help Grey's mood. Better that than a prison asteroid, though.

She wasn't a horrible shot but she wasn't a terrific one either. She usually had to wait a bit and she missed a few times more than she cared to. Stupid orange target, Ella thought. She looked over to see *her* hitting the targets accurately and decided to concentrate harder, substituting the orange targets in her mind for Angelienia's head.

"You're trying too hard, Grey," Victor observed. "Just point and shoot. By the time you've aimed, the target has already moved." He nodded towards Angelienia. "Watch the Flight Officer for a moment. You see how she treats the phaser like part of her? That's what you need to do."

Ella shot him a scathing look. Too bad her hand had the phaser in it or she would have been able to follow up with a comment about how thin of ice he was skating on. Gritting her teeth, she tried to be more a more casual shot.

"Better," Victor said after a moment. "You're still too tense though. You need to try and relax some more though."

"I'd take you up on your offer, Tiger." Ella said with a tight smile. "But what would the Flight Officer think?"

"That you needed a class in remedial training?" Angelienia offered politely as she knocked down another target.

"Did you hear something?" Ella asked Victor. "I coulda sworn I heard this barking noise..."

Victor frowned and started to speak, but was cur off by Angelienia's, "No dear, not a bark... a meow." The Ktarian punctuated the line by knocking down another target.

"Oh," Ella said, shooting her own target. "It's probably infested with fleas too, poor thing."

Angelienia chuckled throatily. "Better yet, but you were still a trifle off the mark. Perhaps it's your delivery - it seems a bit stiff... almost mechanical. Maybe a bit more practice is in order?"

Ella's grip tightened on her phaser, wondering if it would break if she clobbered the woman over the head with it.

Grey," Victor said before another retort was flung. "I don't know that this is doing you any good. You're too distracted for the practice to help you out."

She set the phaser down. ~~Are you telling me to leave?~~

"I think you'd get more out of it if you practiced later, yes," he nodded. There were plenty of times that he could run her through the range if that was what she wanted.

Ella's eyes narrowed, but her face otherwise was expressionless, like her voice. "If that's what you would like." She refused to look at the other woman, mostly because she thought she might fly off the handle and attack. ~~We're going to have a long discussion later, however.~~

"I'll be in Medical for testing this evening, you should call first," Victor reminded her.

Ella turned and left.

OOC: Portions of this post written by Pat Weber. My apologies for the extraordinary lateness of this post, but it was contingent on the completion of Relentless' mission. Besides, it fits in really well on Miranda right at this moment.

Also, there is finally a "Lament for Icarus" site. Go to http://www.geocities.com/icarus68954

"Lament for Icarus, Act I, Scene 3"

Captain Juan Carlos Holmes
Commanding Officer, USS Icarus

Commander Ares Treagor Khoma
Executive Officer, USS Icarus

Provisional Lieutenant Commander Jakob Durden
Chief Engineer, USS Icarus

Authorized use of Lieutenant (jg) Quinn Anna Therrien Tactical Officer, USS Icarus

-With-

Lieutenant Commander Nelis Saler
Twelfth Fleet Intelligence Liaison/ Second Officer, USS Relentless

Authorized (albeit brief) use of "Handler"

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

A starship at 'night' can be a very lonely place. Even though a ship is an ever-active place, something about the stigma of night can just close in on a man, leaving him with a feeling of helplessness and loneliness. Certain traumas didn't fade, even if they no longer seemed to be a part of ones day-to-day existence.

The construction of a starship is truly remarkable. Walls can be both movable, yet sound-proof. Personal areas are easily customizable, providing occupants with a feel of home, even in such a sterile environment. More than anything, though, a starship has its own personality, and it exists in symbiosis with its crew, caring for them, surviving with them, and reminding them.

Not all men want reminders.

---Quarters of Commander Ares Khoma, Executive Officer, USS Icarus, NCC-68954-A---

Fire. Pain. Death. Hate. Screams. Fear. More Pain.

Something didn't seem quite right to Ares Khoma about the bridge of the Icarus today. It had never seemed quite as small and uninviting, nor as hazy-looking. It also used to be in color. Then again, so did the people in it.

The people...

Lieutenant Khoma glanced back from his place at Ops and blinked when he saw Captain Corrigan shouting orders. At least, he thought the Captain was shouting orders; there was no sound, so he may have just been doing an impression of a fish. Corrigan was odd like that. The Knight had been an odd vessel to serve on.

He turned forward again, once more surveying the bridge. That would explain why things felt a little off - he wasn't even on the Icarus. Juan was pretty damn picky about letting other captain's on his bridge, particularly disgraced ones. But of course, if it were Juan's bridge, he wouldn't be sitting at the conn staring blindly forward.

The bridge disappeared around him, which Ares did think a bit odd. Akira-class bridges didn't usually transform randomly into Valkyrie-class cockpits. Of course, it also wasn't normal for uniforms to suddenly morph into flight suits, or for Federation starships on the viewscreen to become Jem'Hadar fighters zipping past the canopy. The whole situation was damn peculiar, particularly when the Jem'Hadar disappeared and he found himself standing on the Icarus bridge.

Only that it was the wrong damned Icarus. He only realized that when he saw a massive shockwave heading towards them from what had once been Starbase One. The shockwave hit, and he was sent reeling, falling to the soft forest floor beneath his feet, then rolling up to fire at the burly Nesh'Ra soldier charging at him through the trees. He dived to the side to avoid a blast...

And found himself landing in his chair on the bridge. He did a quick glance around - ah, good, the right ship this time. Looking up at the viewscreen, he watched a Hydran cruiser go blazing past, engines afire, and then a Breen destroyer came flashing at them, literally transforming into a Reman Scimitar before his eyes, as the bridge again shrank to that of its predecessor.

Ares was beginning to get a little annoyed. He'd be much obliged if the world around him would remain the same for more than ten seconds...

Somewhere in the distance, a ship's commlink beeped...

"Lieutenant Therrien to Commander Khoma..."

That didn't seem right. Not only was the world changing around him, but history didn't seem to be keeping still. Quinn Therrien wasn't even on the old Icarus...

"Commander Khoma, please come in..."

Commander Ares Khoma of the USS Icarus-A awoke with a start, staring blearily around his quarters, doing his best to get a grasp of the situation. Shaking off the fatigue, he tapped the comm irritably, not really sure who it was that was disturbing his already highly-disturbed slumber.

"If this isn't an insanely beautiful woman, I'm hanging up."

On the bridge of the Icarus, young Quinn Therrien blinked at her console, then muted the channel briefly, turning nervously around and whispering to her commanding officer, "Captain, do I count as insanely beautiful?"

Juan Holmes stared at his junior tactical officer incredulously. "Lieutenant, I don't even want to know what that question pertains to. Just get my damn XO to the bridge, will you?"

Nodding her assent, Therrien reactivated the channel, "Um, Commander, this is Lieutenant Therrien. Captain Holmes wants you on the bridge immediately, sir."

Several decks below, Khoma groaned as he stood up, then acknowledged the poor young officer who'd had the singular joy of having to wake him. "Right. Tell him I'll be there in five. Khoma out."

With that, Ares stumbled over to the closet to grab a uniform, managing to stumble over only two pieces of furniture on the way.

---Fifteen minutes later---

Juan Holmes turned his chair when he heard the aft turbolift open, revealing his exec striding purposefully onto the bridge. The captain didn't even bother to comment on his friend's tardiness; it just wasn't worth the effort. He caught a whiff of some particularly expensive cologne, probably being used to cover the fact that the commander hadn't showered.

"Good lord, Ares, what is that smell?"

Khoma smirked in pride. "That's me. Ain't it lovely?"

From the engineering station, Jakob Durden's clipped voiced said, "He got it off a dead Frenchman."

Waiting for the snickers of the bridge crew to subside, Ares puffed up his chest in mock-offense. "I did not either get it off a dead Frenchman..."

Holmes really didn't want to hear the rest, so he held up a hand to cut Ares off. "Never mind, I just don't want to know, ok? Look, ready room, now. There's someone on Relentless who wants to talk to us both."

Raising a querying eyebrow, Ares asked, "Therrien? Or Emerson"

Letting out a slightly scoffing laugh, Holmes said, "If Frank Therrien or Ambrose Emerson wanted to talk to me, do you think I'd be grimacing like I just ate haggis? No, it's someone far more joy-inducing." The sarcasm dripped from his voice.

Ares felt a shiver crawl up his spine, and said, "Saler." The word was practically spat out.

Holmes nodded, standing from his seat and heading towards the ready room door at the aft end of the bridge. "Third guess is the charm. Though why he wants to speak privately to the two of us and not to 'Commander Koss is beyond me. But the git works directly for Irene deMercereau, so we may as well humor him. 'Commander Durden, the bridge is yours."

Stopping at the open doors to the command staff lounge, he briefly turned around and looked at Lieutenant Therrien. Pointing to the chief engineer, he said to her, "Um, keep an eye on him, will you?"

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

Two minutes later, the two men were sitting in the ready room as the holographic communications platform activated, and a holo-representation of Lieutenant Commander Nelis Saler was standing in the room with them.

"Ah, 'Captain' Saler," Holmes said, over-emphasizing the intelligence officer's former rank, "To what do we owe this singular pleasure."

Sighing inwardly to himself, Saler replied to the two command officers, "Captain Holmes, the Chief has forgiven me for the Majestic's loss, so why can't you?"

Smiling lightly at the mention of Emerson, Holmes shot back with, "Yeah, but Santiago hasn't."

"That man probably hasn't forgiven the kid who hit him with a snowball at the age of five," the Trill responded in exasperation, vaguely remembering getting his jaw broken on Starbase 375 by a certain irate fighter squadron commander.

"Not much snow in Andalusia, really."

Ares Khoma decided to intervene before his current and former commanding officers tore each other's throats out across the light-years. "Ok, whatever. Saler, what did you want? I'm sure you didn't make this call so the two of you could trade insults."

With one last glare at the half-breed, Saler turned to look at the report on the console in front of him. "Yeah. Relentless just had a little run-in with the Breen over a Starfleet research station. Seems that someone in Section 31 was trying to breed their own equivalent to Jem'Hadar."

Holmes sat up at the mention of Section 31, thoughts briefly jumping to 'Cheshire', and wondering if the organization yet knew these details. He probably would be wise not to mention THAT to Saler. "Do you think I could get a report on this?" They'd get one through deMercereau soon, but he didn't want to wait that long.

The intelligence officer raised an eyebrow at that request. "If you give me the answers I need, then yes, I'll get you a copy of this."

"Answers to what?"

Again glancing at the service records and reports in front of him, Saler continued, "Both of you were present at a pair of incidents that may be related. There are several other officers I might speak with, but you are the only ones that I know of who were involved in both."

Holmes sighed. One thing could be said about the Nelis Saler he served under; the man was rarely, if ever, ambiguous. Clearly, that wasn't the case any longer. Being in SFI had certainly transformed the man. He probably still wasn't qualified to lead a latrine detail, though. "We've had pretty active careers. Which incidents, 'Commander?"

"The first of these is during the Dominion War," Saler said. "Both of you were assigned to a special operations squadron, the 42nd. The squadron was sent on a covert mission into Cardassian space to destroy a Dominion cloning facility, was ambushed, and the two of you and a Flight Officer Selok were the only survivors. This is all according to the official report. Is that correct."

Letting his mind flash briefly back to the War, Holmes said, "The official report contains several glaring omissions, but yes, that's correct."

Saler picked up a different PADD, "The 'glaring omissions' you refer to are in the Intelligence report, however. The man who ordered the mission in question was identified as a 'Lieutenant Rochefort', ostensibly employed by SFI. As you managed to fin out years later, the 42nd's sortie was actually a diversion, while Section 31 sent the starship Nottingham to gather samples and production equipment for Ketrecel White. As near as we can figure, Section 31 was actually trying to produce White themselves, preserving its stimulation and strengthening properties, but without the addiction."

Holmes was mildly impressed. Intel usually wasn't that accurate.

Saler continued, "Is there anything further you can tell me about that particular mission, something that may not be int he report?"

Leaning back in his chair, Holmes answered, "You seem to know as much as we do. As you said, we didn't even find out about the Nottingham until years later."

"And how did you discover the truth about the 42nd's mission?"

Looking briefly up at the ceiling - he really didn't want to talk about this - Holmes said, "We had another encounter with Rochefort - he was a Commander by this time - and his superior, an Admiral Richelieu. They had taken the captain we were serving under at the time into custody, and in the course of our dealings with them, we managed to get access to some of Richelieu's files. They were later destroyed - it was very careless of him to have them in the first place - but one of them referred to the Nottingham and the 42nd."

Saler was typing this all in to his computer, and asked, "Do you know if there is any way for me to find Commander Rochefort?"

Ares answered this question. "There's no way you're going to find him."

Saler stopped typing and looked at the other man. "And why not?"

"He's dead."

There was a moment of silence in which the Trill looked evenly at Khoma. "You're sure?"

With a shrug, Khoma responded, "Pretty sure; I'm the one who killed him."

Saler cleared his throat and carried on, "And Admiral Richelieu?"

Holmes replied with, "Last I saw him, he was plummeting from the rear hatch of a shuttle that was about two-hundred feet in the air."

Nelis' eyebrows went up, and he decided it would be best to carry on. "Right then. Well, ok then, there's another incident here that I'd like to ask you about, though I must say, your experience with Section 31 certainly isn't limited. You were also both present at the Fourth Battle of Deep Space Nine, when Section 31 tried to take control of the Bajoran Wormhole, which I remember pretty clearly myself, since I was still stationed there at the time." With this, he stared at Holmes' bionic left eye – it was this battle that had cost him the original one.

Continuing, Saler said, "However, the incident in question doesn't appear to have a connection to Section 31, that we know of. Shortly after the first Icarus was assigned to Starbase Elysium, a Breen task force attacked Cardassian space, and on their way, they took out several of Elysium's out sensor platforms. Icarus gave pursuit, and destroyed the Breen units with the help of a small Cardassian force under Gul Latok. After this, you sent your intelligence operative, one Lieutenant Phalynx, into Breen space, correct?"

Holmes nodded. "It is. I wanted to see why the Breen would commit such a risky act with such a small force. What we discovered was that it was the action of a small faction within the Breen military, led by a previously unknown Thot by the name of Gor. I daresay you've since heard of him once or twice."

The Trill officer grimaced, "Yeah, I think we've met." He looked at the report. "That wasn't the only thing that Lieutenant Phalynx discovered though, was it?"

Holmes nodded again, calling up the same report on his own console. "No. The last transmission we received from him included evidence that the same group within the Breen military had gotten ahold of Dominion cloning techniques. They had a Jem'Hadar cloning facility that appeared to be nearing completion. It is unclear what happened to this facility, or if the Breen ever carried through with the program. I'd guess that they didn't, since we didn't encounter Jem'Hadar at Havras, but we have no way of knowing."

Saler queried, "Lieutenant Phalynx didn't investigate further?"

"I don't know if he investigated further or not. He was never heard from again."

Saler absorbed this new information, then hypothesized, "It was possible that any follow-ups that occurred were actually done by Section 31. That would explain how they got the technology necessary to try and engineer the Selassians." He paused in thought briefly, then suddenly shook his head in thought and started typing again. " Holmes, Khoma, I'll get a copy of this report to you as soon as possible. Saler out."

He cut the transmission without a further word. The Icarus captain leaned back in his chair. "Isn't exactly talkative, is he?"

Ares glanced at him and said matter-of-factly, "Well, you have called him an asshole... repeatedly."

The Bajorhuman shrugged. "That's never stopped you from talking to me."

Shaking his head, Ares was about to respond when the comm beeped. He was really getting tired of that noise. Durden's voice came over the channel. "Mon capitan, you might want to see this."

Raising an eyebrow at his executive officer, Holmes led the way out of the ready room and through the command lounge to the bridge. "What is it, Jake?"

Durden simply motioned to the viewscreen, where an FNN broadcast was playing. Holmes winced at the sight of Vera Donahue. The racist anti-Bajoran bitch wasn't exactly one of his favorite people. He wondered what she was doing broadcasting on a major show. He was fairly sure that a certain group of Bajorans on the Miranda had pretty effectively ended her career. Listening to her grating voice wasn't easy, but he forced himself to do it, since the rest of the bridge crew clearly thought it was important. They had obviously come a only few moments into her broadcast.

"...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 revalations, specifically on what we can expect from our Klingon and Romulan allies now that these facts have been uncovered. Stay tuned to FNN."

Holmes irritably killed the feed, burying his head in his hands. He'd very much wanted the citizens of the Federation to know about Havras, but this was definitely NOT the spin that the story was supposed to have. The last thing they needed was Vera Donahue crowing from the rooftops. Suffice to say, there was about to be serious hell to pay. Standing, Holmes headed towards the lift. "Commander Khoma, the bridge is yours. Call me if someone important calls, or if that bitch actually says something I might care about."

Ares moved cautiously towards the center seat, replying, "You got it, boss. Um, might I ask where you'll be?"

The captain stopped at the lift doors and glanced over his shoulder. "First, I'm going to go to the holodeck and beat the shit out of something, and then I'm going to my quarters to have a very large drink."

---Four hours later, Captain's quarters---

Holmes sat at his desk in his quarters, flipping through numerous old books of philosophy and political science, trying to find something to calm him. Unfortunately, his eyes kept falling onto passages about military tactics, or, even more cheerfully, genocide. The large glass of brandy sitting beside him had barely been touched, though that was becoming increasingly likely to change, rapidly. Thankfully, the comm finally interrupted his reverie.

"Captain Holmes, there is a 'Captain's Eyes Only' message coming in for you."

Holmes sat up and activated the out-of-place looking Starfleet monitor on the mahogany desktop. "I'll take it down here, ensign. Holmes out."

On the bridge, the ensign sitting at communications turned from her console and glanced at the science officer seated at the station beside her, commenting, "You know, on a normal ship, they would probably consider a 'Captain's Eyes Only' tag to be something out of the ordinary."

Both officers chuckled and returned to their duties.

Meanwhile, a deck below them, Captain Holmes was staring at the screen in front of him. On it was a brief, text-only message from the agent known as 'Handler'. It was very simple, but it contained a wealth of knowledge in it's seemingly meaningless three words.

It simply said, "Stack the deck."

"The Problem With Men..."

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

Lt. Jasmine Heloi XO, Vanguard Sqn./Chief Science Officer

== Deck 4: T'Shani's Office ==

T'Shani a'Akledorian was feeling quite vulnerable, and she didn't like it. The other night, in Rex's quarters, she had totally blown it. She was still mad at him; couldn't he *see* that she was willing to forget about Cassius, and be with him? It was strange: she had never thought of Rex as being a "friend", before she had returned to the Galaxy. A lover? Never. But she had never envisioned that he would become the sort that she'd trust with something that had hurt her so much, for so long.

And now? Somewhere within, she knew he was right: that she really was pining for Cassius. But dammit all, the man had rubbed her face in the fact that he was going to pursue Janx, that damned Trill on the bridge. So, she went to Corran, hoping maybe... ~For what, Tish? C'mon, did you really think that...~

She shook the thought away.

She needed someone to talk to, but who?

She couldn't approach Cass about this. It was partly because of him that she had so willingly jumped into Rex's arms in the first place. Not London, either. Though the girl was her XO in the Furies, she didn't know her personally (something she amended to fix, really), so she didn't know how deferential she'd be. She *could* go see her assigned pshrink--Lywhyn--but she hadn't even tried to set up an initial appointment yet.

That left one person.

Gathering resolve, she left her office.

------------ Elsewhere... ------------

Jasmine Heloi dabbed the paintbrush on the pallet and considered the painting of T'rellillu Falls. There was still too much red in the outline of the hills. After a moments worth of reconsideration, the Betazoid washed off her brush in the glass of water and dipped its tip into the white. Perhaps if she muted the color...

The tip of her tongue peaked out from the corner of her mouth as she gently dabbed the color onto the hills. She was concentrating hard enough that she never noticed the woosh of the door to her office. She was on her break, so she might as well attempt to finish the painting. It had been in its unfinished state for the past month and a half after all.

T'Shani paused, noticing how intent Jasmine was focusing on her painting. She really didn't want to ruin the Betazoid's moment of peace, so she quietly tried backing out of the still-open door.

That was, of course, when the tell-tale rip in the carpet caused T'Shani to scuffle. Not very loudly, but enough to alert Jasmine of someone else's presence.

The Betazoid looked up from her painting and spotted T'Shani looking for all the world like she was worried the sky was falling. Well, not that dramatic, but enough for Jazz to say, "Tish?"

'For Thori's sake,' Tish swore to herself over the damned carpet. Now she felt like even more of a fool. Blushing a purplish-blue while her antennas arched inwardly, she tried to salvage any bit of grace. "Oh, Jazz. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were painting," she said, trying to think of some excuse she could use to leave gracefully, without tipping her hand that she was worried about something. "I'll come back, some other time, then." She turned back to the door.

"No! Sit down, Tish," Jasmine instructed, gesturing towards one of her chairs, "To be honest, this painting's been waiting to be finished for well over a month. What's another day? So, what's up?" The Betazoid put down her brush and slid her chair away from the easel and swivelled to face T'Shani's chair.

~Real graceful there, Tinis Shani,~ Tish scolded herself. Sighing, she sat down. Briefly, she looked over to the as-yet unfinished painting on Jasmine's easel. Straining to recognize the setting, she gave up; it was still incomplete. Only part of the tapestry had been been laid down, and only the base colors, at that. The grand portrait had much to be added before it would be considered a painting, yet.

Tish could relate.

"Jazz, I-" she paused, again. It was funny, on the battlefront or during a mission, she was calm, decisive, and deadly. But when it came to men.....

"Jazz, I think I slept with Corran," she confessed, antennas drooping. She purposely left out the bit that they'd fought, though.

Of all the words that could have possibly come out of T'Shani's mouth, that was definitely not one of them that she had expected.

"Generally that's considered a mutual experience," Jasmine smiled slightly, though inwardly she was surprised at the sudden flash of jealousy. 'Down girl, think about Wes,' she instructed herself before continuing, "What happened?" She had no desire to hear about the gritty details, but her friend was in need. Therefore, she would listen.

Tish scowled, annoyed that she *still* couldn't recall what had happened that first night. "I don't know, Jazz. Really. He brought over some champagne, I got roaring drunk, and woke up next to him with only my bedsheet over the two of us."

Jasmine winced, both at the image and the raw emotions emanating from Tish, "That certainly doesn't leave much to the imagination. I guess the question is...what do you want to do now?"

Tish waved her hand to her head, as if warding off a headache. ~Which isn't far from the truth,~ she thought absently. And did she detect a slight tinge of, of--jealousy?--in Jasmine's voice? 'No, Tish, don't be silly. Jazz is with that Wes guy.'

"It's not that simple, Jasmine. The other night, I-" she stopped short again, not sure of how to explain what had happened between the two the other night. She had *never*, in all of her life, let anyone beside Tron see her in that way, damaged and incomplete.

Jasmine's voice dropped an octave as she picked up upon Tish's feelings, "You don't have to explain if you don't want to, Tish."

At first, T'Shani was about to take the easy-out that Jasmine had just proffered. But, as she thought about it, that's not why she had come here. "No, it's just... complicated. I told him about what happened to me, back on Seltax--or rather--I *showed* him, Jazz. And he, he just *changed*." Her antennas arched forward in concentration as she tapped a finger on her chin, recalling the events of the other night.

Continuing, "I--how do I explain it?--I showed him what they did to me, what they-" she stopped short, as her eyes involuntarily moistened and that deep sadness that she had fought to stave off for all of her life crept back into her heart. Resolving not to break down and cry like an infant *thiibra*, she squinted, then quickly wiped at her eyes.

Jasmine's eyes widened at the Andorian's obvious distress, a hand reaching out towards her friend and hovering, uncertainly, just before touching Tish. "Oh, Tish..." she said in a soft tone, reading behind the words to what was not said. What could, perhaps, not *be* said. She knew the Andorian had a trauma in the past - it was something that any Betazoid, or counselor, would know in a heartbeat. It hovered about the Marine like an aura of darkness. Only, now, and perhaps the night before, that aura was leaking past the other woman's defenses.

T'Shani pressed her hands into her eyes, trying to reclaim her calm. "I-I just don't know what to do, Jazz. And I'm worried... worried that my past is going to come back for me, and hurt those who I love, as well. I can't afford that to happen."

"Worrying is all well and good, but you can't find yourself paralyzed because of the fear of possibilities," Jasmine pointed out, "As for what you should do, only you can answer that question. However, there is one question that you should ask yourself. Do you love him? Do you want to continue what you had started?"

She thought about what had happened, last night. Him refusing her, her stomping out of his quarters with no more than a towel wrapped around her. ~I've still got to go back and get my uniform,~ she thought absently. But *did* she really love Corran Rex?

~'You love Cass!',~ the phrase that he'd thrown at her still rang through her head. It was part of the reason she was having such a bad headache. Casting her gaze to the floor, she muttered, "I don't know, Jazz. I don't know."

She wasn't pleased with the response, but what could she do? It wasn't like she had any sort of claim real, or imagined, on Corran Rex. If T'Shani loved him, well, good for her. Right? Heloi made a mental note to address her own emotions at some point in the near future. Feeling jealous over someone - not Wes, that is - was not right and something that must be worked through. "Why not?"

"Well..." she thought about it, then decided to go for it anyways. It wasn't like she couldn't trust Jasmine Heloi. She had, so far. "I'm in love with Cassius Henderson."

That made it twice in twenty minutes that she was thrown for a loop. The Betazoid blinked slowly to gather her thoughts. "Wow. Ever thought about suggesting your life as a possible soap opera?" Her lips quirked slightly before she calmed herself, "I'm sorry, Tish, that was unkind of me. However, I suppose the next obvious question is - does he return your feelings?" Somehow, based upon Tish's reactions, she doubted it.

"I...I-" she was cut off by an incoming comm page.

["Lieutenant T'Shani?"] it was Valentine, Tish's Aide-de-Campe.

Annoyed at the interruption, she slapped at the metallic Starfleet delta affixed to her uniform front. "What is it, Staff Sergeant?"

["An incoming Priority Transmission from Colonel Gessekensett, Ma'am,"] Valentine replied.

Tish's antenna's perked up, at the mention of her CO's name. Quickly, her mind replayed the events of a few nights ago, at Baxter's. ~"The rower's keep on rowing"...~

Heloi winced as the emotional climate in the room suddenly took a turn for the worse. Sometimes, she truly did wish she were a psi-null human, especially when it came to the bombardment of what she would almost call fear from an emotional Andorian. All of that told her beyond any words that something was definitely fishy in Denmark. However, when it came to work and to what Tish did for a living, it came under the heading of NMB - not my business.

Her eyes quickly darted, avoiding Jasmine's. "Please inform the Colonel that I am on my way to my office now, and will take his call in a few minutes." She tapped the badge again, cutting off Valentine's reply.

"Sounds important," Jasmine commented, not expecting Tish to elaborate.

"I don't know. But I'm sure it has something to do with Mirusa VI. I hear you're heading up the science team?"

The Science Chief's lips quirked slightly. If there was one truism about Starfleet, not to mention show business, the only thing that traveled faster than warp speed was gossip. "That's right."

"Well don't get lost down there, too, Jazz. I don't want to have to save your ass, too." And with that, she quickly turned and strode out of Jasmine's office.

Heloi shook her head as she watched the blue skinned woman leave the room. Some things would never change. Laughing quietly to herself, the Betazoid turned back to her easel and selected a new shade of amber. The side of the cliff needed just a little more color...

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