"uh....What?" pt.2

Lt.Dr. Klaus Fienberg CMO, USS Galaxy

Lt.Cmdr. Andrew C. Arrigoni
Former Chief Engineer of the USS Hood II. Sort of a spirit guide.

"I must ask..Andrew...What are we doing."

Andy shrugged. "Call me Andy, and I forgot. It's been awhile remember?"

"Ok. Shouldn't we go find out? For some reason, though, I don't feel any urgency to return to my crew."

"There probably isn't. I haven't aged in a long time, so time probably stands still here. Hell, maybe they'll find us in here."

"For a man who has spent the last one hundred years here, you don't seem to know much about it."

"Hey, remember that I never got out of here."

Klaus sighed. "Why am I following you?"

"Because there isn't anyone else to help you. Now C'mon."

"I AM 'Coming on.'"

"Doesn't seem like it with all the bitching and moaning you're doing back there!"

They continued down a corridor.

"I'm barely complaining!"

Andy shook his head. "God, you're like me. I'd hate to see you on a full rant."

"I don't Rant! I've Never Ranted!"

"Bullshit."

"It's the truth!"

"Bullshit."

Klaus was furious with the unusual man.

"I swear to you!"

Andy continued. "Hmmm..Whats that smell? Bullshit!"

"I HAVE NEVER IN MY LIFE EVER MET SOME ONE SO INFURIATING! IT'S AS IF YOU EXIST SIMPLY TO TORMENT ME! IT'S...AARRGH!!"

"God, Man. That was TOO easy."

Klaus seemed still annoyed, but calmer. "See. Do you feel better now? I sense that you're one of those guys that rarely expresses anger. All that does is build it up inside. Occasionally you gotta vent. Thats..One of the first lessons."

"I don't get it."

Andy smiled. "You will....eventually.....I hope."

"Testing To Destruction, Part 5"

Principle Characters

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff

Lt. Ella Grey

*****

Mirusa VI
Somewhere Inside The Temple Complex
The Present

What she heard next was not the sound of bones crunching and soft fleshy squishy noises that she had expected. Instead, there was nothing, not even her own breath because she had stopped breathing probably four hours ago.

Ella opened an eye and looked around. Yup, the spikes had stopped. She looked carefully, carefully because she didn't want to impale herself in a moment of jubilation at being alive, and saw that Victor was all right, if not bleeding lightly in a few places.

"Well, that was fun, " Ella said, in a rather good mimic of Victor's stoicism. Or at least she thought so.

As if the machine or people or whatever that had created the death trap heard her, the spikes began to slowly move back into their original position and Ella was soon able to climb down. She didn't know whether to cry, laugh, scream, or just shrug her shoulders. She settled for turning to Victor to make sure that he was really okay.

Victor was looking at her with an odd expression.

"What?" Ella asked, insanely thinking that maybe her hair was out of place. Boy oh boy was Branwen going to get her money's worth at their next session. "Are you hurt? Are the cuts deeper than they look? *Talk* to me, Krieghoff."

"Why?" he asked quietly, the expression on his face threatening to fall into a more familiar frown.

"I don't know, Tiger. These assholes just seem to delight in making us try to ruin our pants."

Something inside Victor's head was wrong, he felt wrong, like the inside of his head was too large to fit within the outside. "Why did you say that?"

"Say?" Ella began, replaying what she had said before and then remembering and then paling. A lot. For putting her through these deathtraps, Ella wanted to hunt down the creators of this little funhouse and shove them in a water tank, make them climb a fire-rope, and shove *them* in a spike room. For letting her admit how she felt, well, she could come up with more clever torments she was sure.

"When you're dying," Ella said looking everywhere but him. "You say things."

This was, apparently, not what the room wanted to hear. There was a loud sound, all too familiar now, of a release and then the wall of spikes groaned and slowly started to move forward once more. Ella's eyes widened.

"All right I meant it!" Ella yelled. "For the love of all that is holy, I meant it! Okay!" The wall abruptly stopped and started backwards again. Ella gave it a look that, were she Superman, would have fried the spikes down into puddles of goo. It was easier than turning to see what Victor was doing.

For a long moment, the only sound was blood dropping to the floor in a soft, irregular pat-pat from Victor's wounds.

"Why did you say that?" he repeated quietly.

"Cause I meant it." Ella said, wishing, not for the first time, that she was anywhere but here.

That took almost a minute to process through Victor's brain, and produced only one word in response, "Why?"

Ella did not respond, other than to turn back and focus on his wounds.

"These aren't great but they'll be okay for the moment, I think."

"That didn't answer my question, Grey," Victor said slowly. She couldn't have said what he'd heard and meant it. It must be because she wanted the room to release them... but if the room only released them when she told the truth....

"I don't know what you're talking about." Ella said and the room groaned. She whirled and stamped her foot. "Fine, I know exactly what he's asking but I don't wish to discuss it right now. Satisfied?"

Apparently so, because no spikes came forward.

"How the hell do we get out of here?" Ella snapped. "I don't see a door."

"That's obvious; we'll get out when they decide to let us out, Grey,"

Victor told her quietly.

"And if we never get out."

"Then I'll bleed to death," he replied. "Or we'll run out of air, or starve, or die in a half-dozen other ways. That's okay, though."

She looked at him like he was crazy, her mind still running through his death list.

"Because you were a good enough friend to lie to me when you said that other thing," he explained quietly. "Thank you for that."

*****

Mirusa VI
Somewhere Inside The Temple Complex
Two Hours and Twenty Minutes Ago

The cluster of Victors planted one foot on nothing, the flames roaring below them - and didn't fall.

Slowly, step by step, they approached her, feet resting on nothing, flames licking about their ankles without touching them, each step another impossibility that kept building and building upon the others, making the whole scene unreal, like a scene in a holo-fantasy. "Keep climbing," the Victors ordered as they walked across thin air towards her.

Somehow, the fact that Victor was doing a whole Jesus-walking-on-water effect, but in mid air, didn't seem to faze her. Maybe that was because she was fighting with her body and the chains, which were becoming steadily hotter to the touch. Maybe because her brain was shutting down until it was time to have a major freak out. "How much longer?"

"Let go," the Victors standing below her said in unison their heads tilted up so that she could see that all of their eyes were still closed.

"Are you on something?" Ella snapped. "Just because you've become all 'second coming of Christ' doesn't mean that I can fly."

"You don't have to fly, Grey," they said in Victor's toneless voice. "I'll catch you."

She sighed. Her head said that it was a bad idea, her body was screaming at her to comply, and ultimately she trusted Victor too much to let her throw herself into the fire. Literally. "Don't drop the ball, all right?"

She let go.

There was a moment of freedom, where nothing supported her, and then the shock of landing in Victor's arms and feeling them tighten around her.

"I've got you," he said into her ear.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "My hero," Ella said weakly.

Victor - there was only one of him now, not a half-dozen - didn't respond, he just kept walking across thin air, the flames licking up around his feet, until they were on the other side of the pit and there was solid ground under his feet. Even then, he kept walking for several meters until they reached the opposite wall. Only at that point did he open his eyes. "You all right, Grey?"

Ella thought about it. "No, not really, you?"

"Some burns from the suit shorting out, a few bruises; nothing impairing yet." He carefully set her down. "Can you walk?

She nodded and he set her down carefully. Ella rubbed her upper arms and then looked at him, the question in her eyes.

"Easy, Grey: when I closed my eyes, I realized that only one of you was afraid."

Ella tilted her head. "How was that?"

"I smelled it. I know, better than anything, what human fear smells like. It was easy after that: the fire didn't smell right, either, so it wasn't real. Or maybe it was, but only if I looked at it, or relied on my sight." He shrugged. "Or I walked on air. Pick one."

"As long as we're both in one piece, Tiger, I could care less."

"Alice and the Trickster"

(takes place immediately after Alice and the No-Quite Sphinx)

8-ball Hunter

8-ball hadn't said anything in the last six minutes. M'lshnok's laughter was getting REALLY annoying.

"Do you not know the answer, Little Alice? You will never figure it out by standing there."

"Shut up, Milshy," 8-ball said through gritted teeth. She closed her eyes and tried to think.

The man who made me didn't use me.

The man who bought me didn't want me.

The man who used me didn't know it.

The first clue wasn't a lot of help. You could make all sorts of things and not use them, at least, not for yourself. Knowing that the builder had sold the object wasn't much of a clue at all. Anything could be sold. Even people. But what did you buy that you didn't want? You bought food, you bought clothes, you bought comfort food like booze and chocolate, but those were all things you wanted. Why would you buy something you didn't want?

Unless you needed it.

What did you need that you wouldn't want? A math book? A Starfleet Uniform? A space station sized ranch of horny tribbles? And then how could you buy it and then not know you used it. How do you use something and not know about it?

Somebody made it but didn't use it. Somebody bought it but didn't want it. They gave it to someone else. That person used it but didn't know. Were they blind? Even a blind person knew they were using a walking stick or a visor. Unconscious, maybe? If a person was unconscious, they wouldn't know that they were getting medicine perhaps. The person who made medicine wouldn't necessarily need to use it. The person who bought the medicine might not want it for themselves. Maybe the person who used it wouldn't know about it.

It was the first answer that made any kind of sense to 8-ball at all but she was smart enough not to say it outloud. First, even if it made perfect sense, this was her last chance and there was no time limit. She was going to be thinking about the right answer for awhile. But secondly, she could already see a problem with her answer. Medicine could be used by unconscious people, sure, but it could also be used by people awake and aware. Medicine was not the answer to 8-ball's riddle; it was only going to lead to her death. And dying wasn't on her list of things to do today.

8-ball brooded about this for awhile, and then felt her eyes widen. She imagined a light bulb going off over her head. She had just figured something out. . .maybe.

If 8-ball said the wrong answer, then she was dead. If she was dead, then she wouldn't know what was happening to her body. She wouldn't know what was going on.

The person who used it didn't know it.

The person had to be dead. That was it, 8-ball could feel it! 8-ball was all set to do her happy dance before she remembered dead people didn't use things too often. They were too busy being dead. What were they going to do, pick up a broomstick and fly around? A dead person couldn't use anything. They just died, and they were gone.

All of 8-ball's sudden elation instantly disappeared. Still, a small voice in her mind nagged on. ~You almost have it, kid. Come on. The dead must do something with their spare time.~

But they didn't. They just died and that was it. They died, and sometimes there was an autopsy done on them. . .autopsy tools, scapels. . .no, the tools were actually being used by the coroner who was still alive. . .autopsy, and sometimes made to look pretty, and then put in a coffin for some kind of burial. . .

8-ball opened her eyes. That was it. THAT was IT!!!!

The man who made it didn't use it. The man who bought it didn't want it. The man who used it didn't know it!

~That's it, that's it, that's IT!!!!!!!!!~

M'lshnok was still chortling away. "Have you come up with an answer yet, Little Alice?"

"Yeah," 8-ball said, "you, arrogant, high-handed, cheap chickenshit bastard: a coffin."

M'lshnok's laughter was cut off instantly, almost in the middle of a chuckle. The sound made 8-ball smile a little, but nervously. What if she was wrong? What if she had made a mistake?

She'd be lucky to get a coffin.

"Correct," Milshy said quietly. "You may move forward again."

8-ball stepped forward to the last steps. These ones were white crystal, polished enough that she could see her reflection at her feet. Her face looked very far away and strangely alien and lost. She didn't think many people got this far and she still wasn't through yet.

There was one last riddle to go. And you always saved your doozies till the end. Every villain knew that.

M'lshnok apparantly knew it too because he began to laugh. Again. 8-ball was ready for a new bad guy that was stoic and to the point; maybe someone a little like Victor Krieghoff, only, you know, evil. "So, you have arrived at the white steps," M'lshnok said. "These will be the stones which catch your blood."

8-ball rolled her eyes. She was terrified, sure, but this was just annoying. "Could you, you know, stop with the cornball lines? I mean, just for a couple of minutes. Really, death threats don't need to get shoved down your throat for you to notice all the imminent danger."

"You think I am not an intimidating force?"

"I think you're intimidating as fuck; I just don't think you're very subtle. There's an eloquence to these things that you obviously haven't mastered yet."

"We shall see the master of this game when you answer this last riddle," Milshy said. He took a long, impressive-sounding breath and then said, "I am not in this very room with you; I am M'lshnok, I am everywhere. Yet the statues that surround you represent different gods of my pantheon. Find the statue that represents me, and you shall earn your freedom. Guess incorrectly, and you shall earn only a vacant spot upon your neck."

8-ball glared in the direction of the wall. "What the fuck is THAT?" she said. "That's not a riddle; that's a game of fucking hide and seek!"

"Do you concede your defeat, then? Do you surrender your mortal life?"

8-ball rolled her eyes again. "Does it look like I'm conceding my defeat? Look, honey, I'm a couple steps from my happy door. I'm going to at least make a guess, not just wimp out like some freaking moron. How do I know that you won't lie, that you won't just pretend to be any old statue."

"You have my word, the word of a God."

"Is that all I get?" 8-ball asked, disappointed. "You may be a god, but you're a psychotic one. Your word doesn't mean a lot to me."

"If your death was all I wanted, you would have been dead long ago. I am not interested in your blood, but in the game and the victor. Victory is not sweet if it is not won fairly over an opponent."

8-ball wanted to say that being held hostage in a room full of body parts didn't seem very fair to her, but she kept her mouth shut for once. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the statues around her. There were at least thirty, huge and deadly. Something M'lshnok had just said had struck strangely in her ears, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was, or if it was important to her answer.

The statues were all faceless but that didn't keep them from being distinctive. Each statue had its own aura about it, as if it's mood and attributes had been carved into the very stone. The god in the back corner, for instance, was clearly some form of sun god; the way it's arms were raised up to the ceiling gave away it's strength and power. The other statues nearby were not turned away from it but towards it, as if it was a god that was much loved, even worshipped by other gods. The body had been chiseled very finely to appear strong and most likely good-looking. This was not M'lshnok, though: no underworld god would have been sculpted to look like that.

~I am not interested in your blood but in the game~ M'lshnok had said. ~The game is what he cares about. The game is what's important.~

~You laugh more than any God of the Underworld I ever met~ 8-ball had thought earlier, and he did. 8-ball, of course, hadn't met too many gods on her starship travels, but she had researched a good number of them when she was younger. She had even written a term paper at the Academy on Inanna, one of Earth's oldest goddesses. She had studied different gods from different religions, and the underworld gods were often alike. Sometimes they smiled and sometimes they growled, but 8-ball couldn't remember one that had laughed.

~That's the trick~ 8-ball thought to herself. ~That's the real riddle.~

She slowly moved around in a circle, her eyes staring at each of the statues with care. This was no time to point carelessly and accidentally mark the wrong statue. Finally, she turned and looked back at the door, the one that led to her supposed freedom. It had seemed so far away before. Now it looked so within her reach.

If she didn't fuck up that was.

"M'lshnok," 8-ball said, "can I ask you something? Do I get points taken away for questions?"

"If I deem your question fair, I shall answer it," M'lshnok replied. "I will not, naturally, point out the correct statue."

"Yeah, I kinda didn't think you would," 8-ball replied. "I'm just curious. You like riddles, don't you?"

"Of course," M'lshnok replied. "Riddles are the best judge of character."

"You seem to know so many. How did you come to learn them all?"

"I am a god," Milshy said, his voice even more arrogant than normal. "I am all-knowing."

"No one knows both question and answer from birth," 8-ball protested. "Riddles must be asked of you, not sprung from you. Unless you created all riddles to begin with. Unless you were the Father of All Riddles of All Time."

M'lshnok paused, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded more guarded. "Gods have always been and always be," he said. "I have existed longer than you can conceive. I have had much time to learn my riddles; I did not bear them, like a mother to infant."

"That's cool," 8-ball said. "Having all that free time to spend, chatting it up, thinking about answers to puzzles and games and the like. So, what, when any soul came down to your realm, you immediately asked them all the riddles they knew before sentencing them to their particular brand of Hell for all eterntiy?"

8-ball could practically hear M'lshnok frowning. "I do not understand what you are driving at," he said, "and I do not care to. Answer the question, Little Alice, or die at the hands of the gods."

8-ball smiled. "But you said there was no time limit, Milshy. I've got all the time in the world to think. And I'd love to bounce my ideas off of you. I mean, how many times does a girl get to gab with a god?"

M'lshnok didn't answer. 8-ball's smile widened. She was still afraid. . .fuck that, she was still fucking petrified. . .but there was something growing in her, a certainty. She knew that this time she had it right. "You know," she said, ""I've actually studied a good deal about gods. Different cultures, different species. There are some striking similarties between all of the mythologies."

"I am no mythology," M'lshnok said, his voice offended and proud again. "I am more than substance. I am truth."

"I'm not saying you're mythology, Big Guy," 8-ball said. "I'm sure you're some god or another, and I'm sure that you aren't just a bunch of hocus pocus. What I'm not sure on, though, is which god you are."

"You can not spot me?" M'lshnok asked, his voice suddenly transformed from angry to eager. "You admit defeat?"

"Didn't I already go over this?" 8-ball demanded. "No, I'm not admitting anything of the kind. I'm still figuring out where you are, but more important than that is to figure out who you are."

"I am M'lshnok," the voice said. "God of the Underworld. Scourge of the Undead."

"Yeah," 8-ball said. "I don't think you are. You may be more than substance, Big Guy, but I don't think you've been very truthful at all."

She walked around the room, looking at the various statues. "If you were M'lshnok," she said, "I'd guess that you were that statue in the west corner, the one who stands apart and lower from everyone else. Different mythologies have different ideas, but traditionally speaking, most gods of underworlds don't choose the realm that they control. I mean, Lord of the Dead has kind of a nice ring to it, if you think about it, but most gods who preside over hells are usually forced there, as punishment or retribution."

"Like in Greek mythology, Hades is the god of the Underworld, and he didn't choose his realm. He got it because his older brothers picked the cooler realms: the sky and the ocean. It wasn't much of a choice. Most underworld gods don't get one. And though the gods of the underworld are powerful, they are often looked down upon by other gods, even by mortal men, who curse them for their plights."

"So M'lshnok is probably that statue over there---the one who looks like he's been forced to sit at a party while a thousand other guys use him for entertainment. But I don't think that's who you are. I think the real riddle is finding out which god you represent."

M'lshnok made a sound, like he wanted to interrupt for some more annoying death threats, but 8-ball cut him off. "For instance," 8-ball said quickly, "gods of the underworld might enjoy being evil, but they aren't really big gigglers. I mean, some of those gods just can't really take a joke. And while gods of the underworld can also be cunning, I've never heard of any god that's as proficient at riddles as you are. Riddles and laughter aren't trademarks of underworld gods; they signify a different type of god entirely. The Tricksters."

"The what?" M'lshnok asked, and he did not sound happy.

"The Tricksters," 8-ball repeated. "They're often mischevious gods, wise, cunning, almost always too smart for their own good. Some are more harmless, like Hermes, who just liked to fuck with the other gods a little, but some were more evil, like Loki of Norse mythology."

"Tricksters are often near the center of power, though they are never the leader of the group. The head of your pantheon, whatever his name is, be it Zeus or Odin or the Queen of Fucking Hearts, is standing over there by your Balder, your sun God. Odin is the one that leads; you don't need a face to show power, trust me. And your Thor, your god of War and Strength, is a couple statues down from him, ready to do battle, always loyal to the crown."

"But you, Trickster, aren't any of these statues: you're no more a God of the Underworld than you are a warrior or loyal subject. You are the god right next to your Odin, the only statue without swords, because your real weapon is not steel but your mind."

8-ball felt herself shaking her head, suddenly so inexplicably angry. All she had wanted to do that day was explore some stupid ruins with some friends, and instead she got a bunch of death traps and psycho riddles by some guy who had been lying to her for the last twenty minutes. She heard her voice rising to near a scream as she continued. "I know you, Trickster, for what you are. You are a wise god, you are a conniving god, but you're also a FUCKING coward hiding behind fake names and fake masks. This is one game that you've lost, no matter how fucking omnipotent and everpresent you might be; I won, I WON, so open the FUCKING DOOR!"

There was a moment of painfully prolonged silence.

Then, M'lshnok started to scream.

8-ball screamed at the sound and fell to her knees, her hands on her ears. The ground seemed to tremble from the sound and 8-ball wondered if her ears had started to bleed. "You BITCH!" M'lshnok, or whoever he really was, yelled. "You can't have won! You can't have won! I am a God and you are nothing! You do not deserve to live!"

The statue that 8-ball had singled out instantly came to life, took a sword out from another statues hand, and stepped forward, the sword above his head. 8-ball shrieked, her hands still on her ears, and started to crawl backwards. The statue took two steps towards her and began to slam the blade down upon her when the sword was suddenly knocked out of his hand. 8-ball blinked rapidly and moved backwards even further. The statue that 8-ball had proclaimed the Odin-statue had also come to life, and he held the M'lshnok-statue's wrist in his hand.

"You shall not," a new voice said, and 8-ball knew that there was no disobeying THIS voice. This was the voice of a King-God, and he damn well knew it, too. "You gave your word, and she beat you at your own game. You let her live, or I will strike you down now."

"She is nothing!" M'lshnok screeched. "She is a mere mortal!"

"And she beat you," the Odin-statue said, sounding highly unsympathetic. "That must be humiliating but it's too bad. She won. She lives. And you would be wise to not disobey me."

"But---"

The Odin-statue picked up the M'lshnok statue by the wrist and heaved it into the wall. The statue shattered into huge pieces of god-infested gravel. 8-ball blinked again and stared up at the Odin-statue, who had turned to look at her. It gave a deep sigh of relief.

"Thank you," the Odin-statue said. "I've been wanting to do that for a millenia now. You have no idea how annoying his laughter can be centuries after centuries. At least now I'll get a few days break before he forms back into his normal, giggling self."

The exit door opened. 8-ball looked at it and stood up. Then she looked back at the Odin-statue and gave an awkward sort of bow. "Your welcome," she said. "And thank you too. I appreciate the whole not letting him killing me thing."

"Anytime," the Odin-statue said. "Now go. You are free of this room."

8-ball didn't need to be told twice. She ran out the door, not even caring when it locked behind her.

"Realization"

Ensign Paulo DiMillo, Intelligence Officer

Paulo waited for the crewman to finally make a connection. "Whatever is interfering with communications with the ship is starting to affect communications down here. I don't know how long I will be able to keep the channel open," the crewman finally reported.

"It only needs to be open long enough to get the information passed along and to get further orders." Paulo walked over to the communications relay. "DiMillo to Cmdr. Henderson."

Nothing. "Crewman I thought you said you got a clear channel?"

"I had," the crewman replied. "Whatever it is it's going to take some time to clear up, eta 1 hour."

Paulo groaned. "Make it 30 minutes and get back to me," Paulo said as he walked out of the communications tent. This wasn't good at all. Paulo walked towards the entrance and took out his tricorder. He really wondered what the hell was going down there. He had lost all contact with the science team. No contact with the ship. A shuttle he had sent up ran into some field and had to make a crash landing on the outskirts of the camp. The pilot was okay, just odded out. He had now lost contact with the search and rescue teams.

Something was going on down there and he hoped to god that whatever it was that they would all get through it and survive.

30 minutes passed and the crewman ran up to Paulo. "Sir, we have been unable to get communications to anyone. It's isn't out end we know that."

Paulo turned around and looked at the crewman. "Then we have to think that we are all that is left. Set up a distress call and aim for the closest Federation Comm Relay." He hated it, but they had to assume that everyone was lost, and they needed to get off the planet quick. "Let's just hope that I am wrong and that everyone is okay."

"Condition Yellow" Part IV. Continuing the "Hot Rods" Story.

By

Lieutenant Commander Brianna O'Shea, Chief Engineer/Sec(Trey)
Lieutenant Michael Jamson, Operations Officer(Bob)
Lieutenant Jiiles, Engineering Officer(Dru)
Ensign Marcus Slayton, Engineering Officer(Will)
Ensign Richard "Ringo" Langly, Engineering Officer(Martin)
Senator Ramir Omar, Romulan Ambassador(Jon)
Chief Petty Officer, 3rd Class, Adam Kevinson (Trey)

::Holodeck IV::

"Getting out?" Michael looked at the yellow gel pack in disbelief. "I think it's too late....as the Ambassador already proved us all....." he turned to his tricorder once again. This entire situation wasn't getting any better, infact, as Brianna said earlier, it was just getting worse. It seems like the Gel packs have adapted to the power sources, the plasma conduits. But somehow they've turned yellow exactly when things started to go bad. Was there a connection? was this a mere coincidence? What if somehow the packs were altered or modified genetically as a result of this experiment? Many theories crossed Jamson's mind, but there would time for that later. "And with the operator lock out mode, the computer won't accept any of our commands..." he sighed and continued, "So, we're basically trapped in here and at the mercy of the holosuite".

Anna stood there looking at the gel packs. "Looks like the packs themselves are changing slowly, look... what is that?" Anna asked, pointing to the slightly pulse. "My god, is that what I think it is?" She asked, then looked toward Jiiles and Jamson.

"Apparently, the packs were able to adjust to the plasma conduits as we wanted, but there are unfortunate side effects" Jamson moved to the packs and examined them carefully with his eyes. "One of these effects as the lieutenant commander mentioned right after Ensign Langly noticed the changed color of the gel pack, is that the altered pack is actually generating energy pulses".

Anna nodded in agreement "The color changed because of the excessed thermal radiation...but I thought it was killing the gel packs, how could have they adapted?".

Jiiles replied "'Commander. If I may..." he hesitated after the last quarrel before shedding some light into the matter, "The packs are still dying...but somehow are still able to survive. Their DNA probably changed since it was radiated by the thermal radiation coming from the plasma conduits. Since they are quite sensitive to this type of radiation, it won't be too long before they consume their pure organic matter and collapse".

"Exactly...the 2 layer buffers we created, each one measured at 3 centimeters width, comprised of Toranium and Kelindide, are useless...we probably should have added an exterior layer of Rodinium or Durmanite" Jamson jumped in.

"What about those energy surges? do they pose any danger?" Ensign Slayton asked.

"It seems like it...." Jamson took a second look at his tricorder. "The constrictors and 3rd level stage conduits should have stopped those surges, but it doesn't seem like they do anything". This was unbelievable, Michael never witnessed such a disaster caused by technical failures. This experiment was supposed to go smoothly without any problems. It was meant to be a pleasent distraction from his daily routines, and not it has turned into a total fiasco. First was the Romulan Ambassador going wild, then everyone turned on each other, and now this!

Jiiles concurred "The pulses might be too strong for the stage conduits, that's the reason why we've lost computer access and the holodeck is locked down".

Anna was scanning the system as a whole, when she sighed. "Oh my god... it's spreading. I've got packs changing at a increasing rate..." Anna said.

"This is not good...." Jamson and Jiiles moved to new tranformed gel packs and scanned away.

Only a few feet away, one of the gel packs suddenly exploded, shorting out a console and throwing hot radiated yellow gel all over the place. "It appears the packs are increasingly generating more pulses" Marcus joined the party with his tricorder.

"At this rate, I believe that it's only a matter of a couple hours, before these surges start damaging the entire ship systems" Jilles calculated some results.

Brianna looked over at him. Processing all this.

"We must try and think what systems would be seriously effected by those pulses. As far as we know, this holodeck is already 'dead', and it's connected to almost all the systems on the ship. We're not sure if it's a matter of hours or what systems are already effected" Jamson disagreed with Jiiles.

Anna paused and began to tap a fingers over a console. "I think it would be faster to think of what WOULDN'T be effected." She said, as she began to assemble a list.

"You should be more worried about your precious warp core and dillithium deposits" Senator Omar surprised everyone. "Once these energy sparks get through the systems, and make their way to the warp core...it's possible they'll not only create a core breach, but also blow the entire dillithium storage".

"Unfortunately, he's correct...." Jamson had to agree with the senator.

She was already thinking about that. "What if we created a mouse in a maze type thing for the energy pulse... stay ahead of it, keep it from reaching the warp core until we can get out of here?" Anna said. "We are going to get out of here... we can not stay in here while this is going on." Anna stated. "Richard is a computer specialist, what if we use him to stay ahead of the energy, his sole task it to make sure it doesn't reach the warp core, even if he has to route it through every relay on this ship?"

Richard seemed to radiate nervousness. He was almost biting nails. This was fast becoming sort of a doomsday scenario. This freak accident was getting them killed if they didn't do anything fast. Why oh why of all the possible quantum outcomes did he had to be on this ship at this time? When he heard the Chief's idea he shook his head and looked her way as if he was about to start crying. "No...no, that won't work. The surge will blow out every relay it passes."

He paused a second while doing a crude calculation in his head. "For about 9 out of 10 times that is." With this conclusion Richard felt his courage melt away rapidly and so he started taking comfort in eating his nails. In-between doing that he managed to utter a few words. "I knew it, I knew it! Ouch time! Control-Alt-Delete!"

"What else could possibly go wrong?!" Brianna yelled. She couldn't even finish the sentence before another gel pack burst into hot liquid and flew mid-air, causing several consoles to short out again and illuminate by marvelous sparks. But this time, it didn't stop there. Holographic matter started to appear everywhere, from chairs, to rocks and imageries of blue sky to space. Sounds and smells, changing constantly and randomly. "I thought the holodeck wasn't functioning..." O'Shea stared at an odd cube floating mid air.

"The packs are now merged with the holographic matter conversion and imagery systems...causing them to function once more and supplying them with energy" Jamson explained.

Anna looked over at Richard, as if it was that old Indiana Jones movie she grabbed him by the tunic. "WE are going to DIE! Anyway, if you do not get busy. What in hell do you think will happen when that spike hits the warp core! Damn the relays, they can be replaced, lives can't!.. Do it!" She snapped.

Staring wide-eyed at his boss, Richard felt like being paralyzed. He couldn't remember her shouting at him like this before. One positive side of this was that he was pulled back to reality. "Uh...yes,...yes ma'am!" He stuttered and started to look around for a console that was still operable. "I just need a console that is still working."

"Contacting people onboard would help..." Jamson commented. It would be useful if they could contact anyone onboard the ship and receive help from the outside. But that was rather difficult to achieve since all consoles were down as well as communications.

"How can we get a channel of communication out of here, Michael?" Anna asked, trying to deal with all this.

Jamson rubbed his chin "I have an idea...maybe we can take some tricorders and mini replicators apart, and work something out. We have nothing to lose...and time is of the essence".

"Michael... tell me that is not a Borg Cube and tell me... that safe protocols are operational..." Anna said, suddenly that coming to her from no where. "We are standing in what is a starship bridge... tell me that is not a Borg Cube.." She said, looking at the cube floating there on what looked like the main view screen.

"Judging by the look of it," Jiiles said slowly, "It is and with the systems as they are it is unlikely that the safety protocols are working.. Shit!" his voice was drowned out as a beam of energy from the borg cube lit up the view screen. The ship shook violently, or maybe it was just the holodeck, Jiiles wasn't too sure. The only thing he was sure of was the blinding pain in his head as he crashed into something. or something into him. For a moment the holodeck was surrounded in darkness, until a familiar, if not terrifying voice shattered the momentary serenity.

"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

As the lights flickered back on, creating a dim glow compared to the bright lights previously, Jiiles sat up and rubbed his head. Not too far from him he saw O'Shea lying in a similar heap on the floor. Scrambling quickly over to her side he took her wrist and checked her pulse, "Commander....commander can you hear me?" he asked gently tapping her cheek. Her eyes were closed and for a moment she seemed incredibly tranquil. "Commander O'Shea.." Jiiles said again urgency and fear flowing through his voice. ~Oh hell!~ was the only thing that registered through his mind as he quickly scanned the rest of the room, or bridge as it appeared to be.

Anna groaned and lifted her head to find Michael or someone laying on top of her, with his head right where it shouldn't be. "I'm here!" Anna said, struggling to move. Looking down she saw that it was Jamson on her, "Got to get safeties online now!" Anna said, as they all began to crawl back to their feet. Anna looked around, everyone seemed to be alright, but she wasn't a medical doctor either. "Report!" Anna stated, as she moved over to one of the many consoles and pulled a type III phaser from the hidden compartment. "Arm yourselves.."

Jiiles staggered to his feet after making sure his commanding officer was still alive. Surveying the room he grabbed hold of a panel as his head span. Little spots appeared before his eyes as his vision narrowed. Blinking several time he found himself sitting on the floor leaning against the panel he had previously grabbed. For a moment he sat there bemused and bewildered staring blankly before him.

The holodeck bridge rocked as the Borg fired their cutting beam, chunk of bulkhead few down and hit Marcus squarely, sending him flying into the aft part of the bridge module.

"We need the bloody safeties back..." Jamson stated the obvious as if he didn't hear Anna. All he could think of was the monotone Borg message, going on and on. He didn't even notice he was on top of O'Shea, the closest he's ever been to a female in a couple of years. Rolling away from O'Shea, he was still confused as to what just happened. He tried to slowly get up while holding his head and left arm. A nasty bruise on his hand and a small cut on his forehead threw him back into reality. "Jiiles....help me with this console" he tried to move slowly towards the non operating console next to the holodeck doors.

The holodeck bridge rocked as the Borg fired their cutting beam, chunk of bulkhead few down and hit Marcus squarely, sending him flying into the aft part of the bridge module.

"We need all the tricorders and tools we can get" he said quietly, still shocked from the Borg attack. "Our first priority is to terminate the program, even cut the power if we can...and if that's not possible-" Jamson leaned on a bulkhead trying to disassemble his tricorder, "At least, change the program...".

"Agreed." Anna said, as she looked back to the view screen.

"Langly...once Jiiles and I get this console working, it's all yours! Anna..." Michael looked at Anna but then glanced to the Romulan Senator "Ambassador...both of you, try to keep the Borg busy in the meanwhile...and I'll gladly join you with Jiiles once I'm done". How he longed for battle, and this wasn't just an ordinary space fight, but a battle for life. It seemed like it's been so long, since Jamson as a captain commanded an entire task force, in a campaign to defeat the Borg. This would prove to be a challenge.

As Jiiles heard his name mentioned for a second time he shook his head slightly to bring himself out of the sullen trance-like state he found himself in. Slowly he uncurled himself from the floor and mumbled slightly incoherently "I'ss here'eer. Whhha you'ss waaan'na'na'na.," Jiiles's head twitched slightly as he stumbled over his words, "me'ss t' do'ss?"

Chief Petty Officer, 3rd Class, Adam Kevinson listened but he then looked up. "Sir," He said address Lt. Jamson. "Ensign Slayton is out, I'll handle the communication task for him." He said, then grabbed some tricorders and moved over towards the arch thankfully that came online when everything else started to go all to hell.

"Come on!" Jamson tried to reroute some energy from his portable mini replicator and dismantled tricorders, and use it to power up some of the consoles under the arch. He was able to get enough power for one of the consoles, so Kevinson might be able to access the exterior ship communication IR/RF antennas and send a distress signal outside. This was the only solution as internal communications systems were impossible to reach, so the message would have to come from the outside, if anyone on the bridge would notice.

Anna moved over toward Captain's chair. She hit the button on the chair, not wanting to be playing this game at all. "This... This is Lt. Commander Brianna O'Shea of the USS Galaxy... You are taking an aggressive posture. We have a Romulan senator onboard, there are ten cloaked Romulan D'deridex class Warbirds waiting for my order to open fire... I order you to break off into a holding position... or I will be forced to deal with you by whatever means necessary."

Jiiles walked, swayed rather, with the rocking of the ship and his own lack of balance over to Slayton. Slowly he bent down and checked his pulse. At least there were no deaths yet from this. this. what were they doing?

"THIS IS THE BORG. YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE." The repetitive monotone voice blurred out through the com system. The collectives voice, even though replicated by the holosuite, was still as petrifying as it had been in reality.

Jiiles stepped quickly, as quickly as he could considering that his balance was totally off, to a console next to one of the packs that came on and off, and began to collate a damage report, "We have lost main power. Shields are down. We have hull breaches through decks six to thirteen and..." he looked up at the blank faces staring at him as he reeled off the information from the holographic ship. Slowly he looked back down and realised what he was doing.

"This isn't right." He stated to no one in particular. Rubbing his head he looked over at Jamson, tears welled in his eyes as the pain in his head rose to unbearable levels. "What. What do you." Jiiles paused, scrunching his eyes up as the pain throbbed against his skull, "you want me to do? He finished tears streaming from his closed eyes.

"Damn it..." Jamson had a hard time, taking tricorders and padds apart and trying to use some of it to get power cells to operate the remaining consoles. He sighed nervously "I can't get anything fixed if the ship...holosuite...keeps rocking like that!". It was impossible to hold a polaron probe in one hand, a plasma torch on the other, concentrate on activating the dismantled power cells inside the console and on top of that, trying to stabilize one's own posture, all at the same time. "Jiiles, I need some help with the isolinear chips....Langly will take care of the console. You need to move whatever you can from here", Jamson pointed, "to there...so that we can muster some more power to the right systems with proper access".

Jiiles slowly joined Jamson at the console and looked down. The lights flickered under the display panel and smoke rose from behind it. Bending down Jiiles pulled off the cover exposing the 'guts' of the consol. For a few minutes he sat and stared at the tangle inside, swaying slightly. The rocking motion actually helped the pain in his head. "Hand me the . the.." Jiiles waved a finger toward the object of his desire but he couldn't quite form the words, "The dammed tool kit!" he concluded swearing in frustration.

"That's all we have..." Jamson handed him several broken engineering tool kits. It trembled as the holodeck rocked again and again, throwing some magnetic probes and replacement isolinear chips on the floor.

"Carefull!" Richard alerted Jiiles from a falling piece of debris.

After working vigorously for a couple of minutes, that seemed like hours, Jiiles announced "I have partial power to the console. gimmie another five and you should have full control from this station. If we could hook this console into the holodeck's ODN system, and get access, we might be able to get an actual system wide report from the Galaxy.." Jiiles mumbled as he worked. His brow continued to crease up with every wave of pain that flowed through his head. It added time to his work as his eyes closed.

"Concentrate on accessing the holodeck's systems...by the time we get a damage report it would be too late" Michael struggled with some hard to reach power distribution cables.

"Commander, reading energy build up outside in the main corrdior." CPO Kevinson reported. "I'm unsure if it's holographic or not." He said, meaning wasn't sure if it was their people or the Borg.

"Understood... Ramir, Adam... guard that door way... if anyone comes through it and don't identify themselves... fire at will." Anna said, sitting down in the command chair. "Michael, I need weapons now or change this damn program!" Anna said, as she then tapped a few buttons. She then jumped up and summersaulted over the console at tactical. "I'm tranfering some power to this console.." She said, then began to reroute some power.

Looking up. "Firing transphasic torpedoes.." She said, then looked up as a full volley of lights sailed from the lower part of the view screen toward the Borg. ~God get this program changed...~ She thought to herself.

"I can't get anywhere with this console!" Kevinson yelled inside all the commotion.

With no warning, upper saucer section of the holographic ship took another beating, a stronger one this time. As the crew trapped inside the holodeck were trying to literally, fix their way out, Anna suddenly observed "We've lost the force fields around the bridge...!".

"We're almost there!" Jamson replied. Earlier on he tried to use polaron probes to access and block optronic data cables inside the ODN network, in a hope to bypass certain junctions and receive some access. Now he was just carelessly destroying unnecessary ones with his plasma torch. "Come on Langly....tell me what's going on".

"I'm trying!!!" Richard shouted back in the turmoil, his eyes buried inside a tricorder which was now connected to the console directly.

The fire unexpectedly stopped but the shudder didn't, "We're trapped in a tractor beam!", Anna hit her own nonoperating command console from her seat. "Jamson???" she looked over to Jiiles and Michael.

Without any warning, the hologrpahic doors to the virtual bridge were hammered just as O'Shea announced the situation. The hard metal bent and curved like old terran aluminum foil, as the battering continued. It was clear someone was breaching it's way into the bridge, and since the force fields protecting the bridge were out, it was only a matter of time. "Get ready!" Omar aimed a phaser to the doors and stood ready.

Under the arch, Jamson, Jiiles, Langly and Kevinson were still wrestling with the systems, when several Borg drones dematerialized on the virtual bridge. The imaginary computer didn't even announce the arrival of the cybernetic beings and left the job to the Chief Engineer "Intruder alert!". The Romulan Senator was the first to fire, knocking down an assimilated Cardassian right next to Jamson. Following him, was Brianna, taking out two drones and moving towards the arch, trying to cover the crew.

A took a few more shots before Omar declared the so known and frightening phrase "They've adapted...". The bridge doors were ruptured behind him, and before he could even turn he was sent across the bridge, over the tactical station, by a Borg soldier, right to the floor.

Another drone was transported next to Adam Kevinson. Busy with the console, he didn't see what was coming until it was too late. He tried to reach for his personal phaser, but the tall borg drone grabbed him by the throat and lifted him helplessly up high into the air. He was slowly choking and was overcome with extreme panic, after all, being held in the air by a Borg was usually a terrifying last experience. It was only a second after Jamson, Jiils and Langly saw what was happening behind them. In a surprising act of bravery, Ensign Richard Langly, took a gravitic caliper and ran screaming, "Ahhhhh!" in order to help Adam. "Langly, don't!" Michael screamed. Sticking the caliper into the drone's left shoulder didn't seem to do anything. The drone simply slapped and slammed Richard into the bridge's, debris covered, hard surface. Michael dropped everything he had, tapped Jiiles on his shoulder, signaling him to replace Richard, and moved towards the Borg holding Adam. Swiftly, without wasting any time, the once proud warrior sprung into action, grasping some of the drones mechanical cords and wires, and tearing them apart. Pulling the drone slowly backwards by it's strings and mechanical arm, the Borg released COP Kevinson from it's bone crushing grasp and fell to the floor like sack of rotten Bolian potatoes. Michael was moving for the kill, he picked up a broken metal bar, and swung it high, but never made it. Another drone interfered with his grand plans to demolish the collective, holographic or not, and delivered a striking blow throwing Jamson to a nearby wall, knocking him out.

At the same time, O'Shea, on the other side of bridge, tried to cover the team as best as she could. But the Borg by now adapted, and the phaser shots were not practical. She tried to aim to some of the consoles and even the ceiling, to slow the progress of the Borg, but nothing was working. It took only moments before she found herself surrounded by the terrifying cybernetic creatures and cut out from the rest of the crew. She was also lifted into the air, but unlike Kevinson, she screamed and kicked like a beast "NOOOOO!".

Jiiles who was aware of the entire ordeal, was the only one left. He was, unsuccessfully, trying to access the holodecks' systems. He was almost successful when he saw Michael knocked on the wall, and heard Brianna's scream, so he reached to his phaser, but to no avail. "One more junction..." he threw his boomerang phaser onto one of the drones. "One more...please!" he shouted on his knees, "Just one more...!". The shouting seemed to help as the tall figure smiled like a madman "That's it!", he punched another key on the tricorder, but the smile soon turned into a shocking jolt. He system halted, freezed with a familiar blue screen appearing on the little display of the tricorder. It was all over. They were quickly closing in on him, "Oh no..." he closed his eyes and waited for everything to end. He failed, they all failed. There was no more hope. Hearing the mechanical monotone footsteps, getting closer, he imagined how long would it take him to die. He knew the holographic Borg drones couldn't assimilate him, but they could kill him since the safeties were off. Would he suffer? Or would it be a quick blow to the head?

The heavy mechanical paces and smell of broken circuits and debris was abruptly gone. Jiiles was still on his knees, his hands lying on his head in a defensive position, his eyes still closed. His uniform soaked with sweat, and heart pounding at an incredible rate. He sat there for minutes, before hearing a strange chirping sound. And another one. Was he assimilated? Was this the sound of his own cybernetic implants? When would he hear the collective? How was this even possible? He had a warm feeling on his head, and the temperature also changed 'probably the blow from the drone' he thought, `or the warmth of an assimilation chamber`. What really bugged him, was the fact he felt a slight breeze. Was he naked? The light breeze delivered unfamiliar smells, sweet smells, he could swear he was smelling flowers. He slowly opened his eyes and lowered his hands. "What in the name of.....???" he stared around him in amazement.

"Come Together... Or Else."

DELTA TEAM:
Cdr. James Corgan & Mika sh'Shonora
Lt. JG Cora Dobyrin
Ens. G'Bat'ea
Pvt. Alliya Yhwalyan (SPC: Dru)
G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur (NPC)

Delta Team was assigned to the lower levels.

The deeper, lower, below ground kind of lower levels.

The ones that make a proper gold shirted security officer cringe, for fear of a grue or some other type of monster that had a craving for unsuspecting, stupid sub-sentient that loved to delve through ruins.

Much like the Federation types about ready to go in.

Commander James Lionel Corgan, Security Chief and leader of the Delta Away Team, went about this task with relish and dread. He had a healthy respect for the unknown, both curious about what is at the next bend, but cautious enough not to ruffle the feathers of whatever was ready to come out. Every excursion therefore had to be treated with the most respect possible... whatever came in was a guest and had to act as such.

They were guests in a 'temple' of sorts, the same type seen over thousands of sentient carrying worlds in yet another mind boggling variant. It was a pyramid with definitely defined level, more like the early Egyptian pyramids of Mother Terra with ledges of wedges worn by wind and rain of millennia past than a later model with completely smooth surfaces. Large even by pyramid standards, this temple raised into the sky like a squat, flattened spike of sandstone and granite.

At first unassuming, approaching the pyramid structure yielded some amazing small details. The glyphs were yet translated; even Corgan's tricorder did not know the language offhand, but all looked weather worn and intricate as they told their un-revealed tales, rituals, and rites.

Oddly enough, the writings look serpentine, as well as almost everything else. The ground went from patches of dried grass to ancient cobblestone, and even though many feet have passed them, there were still circles and squares that writhed with snakelike symbols, suns, moons, stars and peoples both priests and heroes. Pillars of the same stone as the pyramid reached for the sky, some toppled, some split or sheared, but others still standing tall as if to defy the fate of their fallen kin, not yet allowing their symbols and stories to fall into the ground and crumble.

What James wanted was not outside, but within. The pillars marked a crude, cobblestone path to the main entrance of the temple. Festooned with overgrowth and etched with even more of the confusing serpent's writing, the temple was just a square cut into the pyramid, only to have a roof and its supporting pillars plopped in front. A simple, yet austere design. Higher tech lights were propped up on metal tripods to illuminate deeper into the temple.

"Alright, this is our objectives." James Corgan called to his team, "We are to search the lower levels. We will keep in contact at all times, with communicators constantly on open channels. Place some communications boosters when needed... don't go anywhere alone... not much else I can tell you. You're all professionals, so I trust you all know the drill. Questions?"

G'Bat'ea held up his phaser with a grunt, they had given him a tactical suit but basic weaponry, he was not impressed, after all he was trained in much grander armaments. "Should we be set to kill or stun?" He had a feeling he knew what Starfleet policy would dictate in the matter, but better to be sure.

Corgan replied off cuff to his larger, nastier looking compatriot, "Stun, if any encounters turn hostile. You'll be allowed to use more force when needed, such as when stun proves ineffective. Don't try to kill unless it is a last resort. We don't know what is down there... it could even be a new sentient life form. Contrary to our experiences of the last decade, we're in the business of introducing ourselves to new life and new civilization and not blowing the f**k out of it. Clear?"

And where has that got the Federation recently? His thought went unvoiced though, he doubted it would be a popular opinion in present company. "Clear, sir." With that he re-holstered his phaser from the time being.

"Good." Corgan surveyed his team, gladdened and sorrowed by what he saw. His girlfriend, perky to the point of being almost oblivious to the dangers inside, kept her sparkling eyes on him as she waited for instructions. "Before we go... we have to take on an advisor from the Hydrans. He should be here any minute..."

"Huuuumaaan...." Slithered a serpant's growl, a foreboding, menacing slur that sent shivers all over Corgan's neck hairs.

He turned to face the team's Hydran liaison, and what he saw surprised him.

Hydrans were a more 'alien' species than most that James encountered. A species described as being all arms, legs, and eyes in a bewildering arrangement that defied all evolutionary logic. But to come face to face with one was a different manner, for the Hydran Z'Jgk'Thur was a mountain of chitonous skin and burly muscle wrapped in a simple, servicable uniform of dark purple. His (James thought Z'Jgk'Thur was a male) skin toned into light tan brown with mottled dark brown spots, like desert parched lizard skin. His three sets of legs, an arrangement that was as deceptive as it looked clumsy and confusing, were shorter than James own, but had the squat, thick foundation of a legendary Nordic dwarf. Two eyes with lavender hues in the iris were placed side by side to a third eyestalk that had its own motion, and it swayed back and forth as if to appraise James Corgan and the rest of the Delta Team.

Z'Jgk'Thur's left hand was close to his disruptor pistol, while the other was hovering over a wicked, serrated silver knife. The look on Z'Jgk'Thur's face was one of solid, unrelenting contempt.

"Yooouuu... are the huummaann Commander." Z'Jgk'Thur hissed in a serpentine accent.

James looked up (literally!) at the Hydran. "Yes. Last I checked. You're here to help us search for our missing people, I take it?"

The Hydran officer coughed sporadically out of his mouths, but what James thought was a bout with the planet's choking dust was a spasmodic laugh. The Hydran shook his head with disapproval and replied, "Federation arrogance... how dare you. I am not at your service, huummaaann. You are on territory considered to be an Imperial Hydran heritage site. You are on our territory. I am not here for your convenience. I am here to clear any... misunderstandings between our people and take you though the complex without violating any of the customs related to this... temple. You will stay with me at all times. Go where I go, and nowhere else unless you have MY permission." He then added in a mocking tone, imitating James clearly, but in a voice that was part Hydran, part royal Betazoid borne dandy. "Clear?"

James felt a flare up of anger, but kept it aside. "No." He growled, "Lead and help all you want, but you were still assigned to us by your superiors. Help all you want, and I will listen to what you have to say, but if you in any way act unreasonable or harass my team, you're a liability. Clear?" James ended with a wink.

Z'Jgk'Thur's eyestalk coiled back, the chitons on his face turning red, "Just remember... you're in our territory. Your presence is by our boon. We will work together to find our missing comrades... but that is all."

"Fine by me, G'Iv."

Cora had been quiet so far. Taking in their surroundings and paying close attention to the exchange between Corgan and the Hydran without being obvious about it. She didn't like the way Z'Jgk'Thur addressed them.

Anything that looked like *that* could not be trusted, G'Bat'ea thought. And his hands were hovering far too close to his weaponry. He leaned in to the Commander, lowering his voice to a mumbled growl. "I think we should keep an eye on our compatriot, sir." His own hand had instinctively become nearer his phaser after the Hydran's arrival.

Alliya ignored the exchanges and focused on the information that was flooding her tricorder. She knew her role, and that wasn't combat. Slowly she removed herself from the group of trigger itchy comrades and began to record the data and scan the tunnels ahead.

"Of course." Corgan whispered much more subtlely to the Naussican than G'Bat'ea tried, "Try not to make it look too obvious. He already knows... will already expect it. An overt attempt to keep watch on him will cause more tension. Besides..." James added, a mischevous wink thrown in for good measure, "I think somebody else is taking care of that."

The away team made their way through the tunnels of the main temple complex. Straight and angular to a fault, these tunnels nonetheless twisted and branched into further darkened tunnels. James was forced to use his wristlight to peer into unlit hallways, seeing more of the same as the light pierced but only hit the sidewalls. The away team's footfalls clacked on the stone floor, kicking up tiny clouds of dust that were, for all they knew, undesturbed for centuries until their passing. Hiroglyphs adorned the ancient sandstone, telling their stories but remaining out of reach of both tricorder and expert mind, thereby staying a secret to all the bypassers.

From time to time, James would report their location as they went deeper. When the static became too much to bear, they dropped relays to keep in contact.

G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur observed it all, gruff and ill mannered to be around the Starfleet officers. He looked around like everyone else, but while James himself looked on like one of an experienced explorer, used to the sight of temples and remnants of dead civilizations on lonely planets, G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur treated each step carefully, taking a rapt interest in the glyphs and pictures on the wall instead of searching for his missing mates. Mika, as the group's facewoman, tried more than once to engage the Hydran in some conversation, but was unable to crack his prickly exterior. With a shrug of her shoulder, Mika resigned herself to wait for an opportunity to present itself, and leave G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur to look at the history presented to him.

At once, G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur stopped.

"Come here..." He hissed to the party, "Look..."

G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur pointed a long fingernail at the wall, tapping once at a corner pillar that was imbedded. It presented itself as a series of statues, much like a totem of stone, each figure in a series of poses that looked martial and menacing. They held spears and shields, clubs and swords, flails and flayers, while carvings of fire, stone skin, water waves and whisps of air wreathed their skin like armour.

The real surprise came not in their motif, but their bodies. Z'Jgk'Thur grumbled with a dose of pride, "They are... like us."

Mika took a closer look, giving the totem a scrutinizing look. "They do look like Hydrans. But a few of them lack some of the Hydran's features. So similar... like evolutionary cousins."

Z'Jgk'Thur countered, "They are Hydrans. These people worshipped us. It is clear, can you not see it?"

Mika argued back, "Maybe, but I would not come to that conclusion yet. The Federation would love to have time to study this civilization. With this discovery alone it yields the possibility for many mysteries, and not ones that appeal only to archeologists. The... Hydran idols... for lack of a better word... suggest Hydran influence... but I'm no archeologist, so this is not beyond a shadow of a doubt. Perhaps if the Federation was allowed to study this place further, even with an equal share of Hydran personnel, we could find the answers ourselves."

G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur shook his head. It was clear on his face that he did not like the idea very much, "Work with Federation? Never..."

One moment Cora was with the away team, listening to the various conversations. All too suddenly she found herself alone. Unsure of how that happened or why her priority turned to finding a way out of that predicament. The searc also led her to uncover more and more of a Hydran connection. Something about it all didn't sit right with Galaxy's Chief Intelligence Officer but she'd sort it all out later. First she had to find a way back to the rest of her crewmates.

Alliya tutted loudly from the front of the rescue party, as the only scout of the group she had taken point. Turning round she inclined her phaser rifle slightly and indicated towards them, "We are not here to contemplate the historic significance of these ruins, but to find the missing team members of both our crews." she trailed off her chastising and stared at the other members. They hadn't had formal introductions. In fact she didn't even know the name of the commanding officer of the search and rescue party but she had a good memory.

At first, James was offended by the scout's sudden outburst, but was then sheepishly ashamed to admit that Alliya was right. Though the temple complex was an archaeological find so fascinating and huge that even a scientifically unsophisticated man like himself could appreciate all that was presented to him, he too knew, and maybe even more so than Alliya knew, that there was a job to do.

James was about to turn to his job until he glanced at his girlfriend. She looked more wounded.

"Private Yhwalyan, Mika is our facewoman. She's the one to talk and parlay, so let her do her job. We'll do the scanning and searching." Corgan reminded her, but as he turned to talk to Yhwalyan, a deep lump formed in his throat. Where was Lieutenant Dobyrin? Wasn't she with the marine? "Besides, this is a very politically sensitive area and mission, and that is as important... as the search itself... might be important... since we need the Hydran's co-operation..." He constantly stopped as he scanned for Dobyrin.

"My name is pronounced. sod it!" Alliya trailed off again as the Hydren half shouted about his precious walls of graphite.

"Oh, forgive me if my curiosity of this site has distracted you from your all important search, Federations!" G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur, offended and snarling, hissed right back.

"Shhh..." James hushed the Hydran as he whipped out his tricorder. Try as he might, the sensory device wasn't working as it should. Interference scrambled both the keys and the display.

"How dare you treat me with such..."

"We are missing someone." Alliya stated in a concerned voice. "There were three females in the search party including myself. Now there are only two of us.. Where is the other one? She had dark hair." her description trailed off as she stared at the rest of them with wide expectant eyes.

"You're trying to find Lieutenant JG Cora Dobyrin, Private, and you're right. She's gone. As in out of here... without a trace..." Corgan's lump in his throat now sank deeper, until it churned and upset his stomach, "Like the scientists... oh sh*t." Corgan smacked his tricorder, briefly raising the inert device from the dead, only to have it shut off a moment later. "Sh*t! Mine tricorder is out! Anyone else have theirs working?"

Mika checked over her loaned tricorder, but it too had its screen flicker out of existence. "No James, it is inoperative."

"Mine as well." G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur's voice sizzled as his alien scanner lost all function.

Alliya shook her head as she stared at her tricorder. She let her self relax, for some reason she was feeling very tense, she knew why as she let her mind wander through the feelings that radiated of her comrades. Part of her wanted to tell them all to shut up but none of them would know how to, emotions weren't an easy thing to turn off for humans, and the nausisian she couldn't even read! Blocking out all disturbing thoughts she focused on the one mind she had scanned earlier, that of the missing Lt. Dobyrin.

James let out an angry sigh, "Well... talk about going up sh*t creek without a paddle. Corgan to the Galaxy." James smacked his communicator badge, but the tell tale chirrup of its activation was absent. James tried again, with the same amount of success. "Dammit."

G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur used an older hand held communicator set, but it too didn't work. He spat out a string of Hydran curses in their native tongue (none of it dulled by a lack of knowing the language), then explained, "So it is true..."

Mika asked, "What is?"

"This..." Z'Jgk'Thur waved his arms at the pantheon of the Hydran totem and all the wall hieroglyphs, as if to survey all of history, "... to us is the repository of the gods. They have found us... now they will have us. We cannot escape it, for it is divine will that takes us. How else can you explain such awesome power? Such coincidences? Such miracles?" Z'Jgk'Thur looked up to the sky with a glassy stare, caught up in wonder, "We have told you to stay out, and when your people did go missing despite our warnings we told your people that it is the gods' will, and that they will return. Accept it. Now you're part of a divine plan."

James was not nearly impressed, "Pal, did you know how many 'gods' we've explained away as incorporeal lifeforms or shapeshifter Junta's, or spacial anomalies, or robots, or even powerful creatures that even gave us pause? Do you know how many we've even defeated with a timely adjustment to the deflector array, a killer space virus, a little bit of diplomatic trickery or even an old fashion phaser to the head? It'll take more than this to convince me we're f**ked because of some divine plan by creatures well beyond our abilities. Let's keep going. We'll find the Lieutenant and our scientists, and your people, so in the meantime... stop trying to convert us."

"ARROGANCE! FEDERATION ARROGANCE!" The Hydran screamed.

"Arrogance founded on one hell of a track record." James Corgan quipped, cool as breen ice, "Shall we move on?"

Alliya tutted again at the rising noise levels, "Will you all just be quiet for one moment?" she asked her eyes closed tightly. She didn't like scanning minds when she met people, it was after all a slight violation. But then she never read their thoughts, just focused on their aura as it were. And at least it paid off,

"She is this way." Alliya said slowly pointing down the corridor that they had been following.

G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur grumbled, but relinquished control over to James. Corgan led the column of officers deeper into the ruins.

"What is the meaning of this?" Z'Jgk'Thur demanded.

"She may be a bit pushy..." James Corgan silenced his counterpart, "But she is on to something. Starfleet has psykers in their rank and file. She is one of them. Trust her."

Already at the end of his patience with a foreign officer who thought he knew better, a marine private carrying the air of aloof tranquility like a stifling and smug shawl, a Naussican who's primary skill was to loom, and their 'faceman', who happened to also be Corgan's lover, James repeated to himself, ~"Be patient. I have to do this. Be patient."~

The hall drew in around them, almost as if they were closing in on them. Alliya could feel her sleeves brush against the walls as they moved deeper underground, the damp rose and the smell flooded her nostrils. Occasionally she checked over her shoulder to make sure that the rest of the group were still following.

"O... hi." Mika peeped, almost wilted at the Marine's presence. She was the first to take notice of the marine, as James was recalibrating his dead tricorder for another attempt.

Mika heard the skittering of a rock to the side corridor. Her antennae flexed to get a fix on the hall. There was nothing on the sonic ranges, or on conventional sight, but just in case she inched closer to the side hall to take a closer look...

"She's down here!" Alliya exclaimed as she dew in on Dobyrins location, almost like a hunting hound. When she heard nothing but the dust settling behind her she turned sharply.

There was no one there.. what the hell? She had been checking every few minutes. she had heard their footsteps behind her. or so she had though. Shaking her head she stared at the floor for a moment. The light on her phayser rifle flickered.. ~Oh that's just great!~ Alliya grumbled. Looking back down the corridor she had come from she hollered, "Hello! Anyone there?"

Her voice echoed back.

~Shit~ Alliya turned back to the direction she knew Dobyrin to be in and continued, alone!

All of a sudden Cora heard a voice. "Who's there?" she called. At first the voice sounded familiar but this place could be playing games with the Intelligence Officer's mind.

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

"Hello?"

Mika repeated her distress call.

"Hello?"

The hallway, even with the help of her wrist illuminator, was a dark and endless hole into areas too deep for her bravery to dare attempt a foray. She shined the light back and forth, revealing more of the ancient, mysterious hieroglyphs, but no other sentients in sight.

Her boyfriend, the always valiant and noble security chief, who was also supposed to be at her side during dangerous times as these (for was it not supposed to be the duty of the strong and handsome young man?)...

...was not there.

Neither was the Naussican, the Hydran, or the Betazoid Marine.

Mika, former diplomat and representative of the Federation at the Gryphon Coalition was now all alone, separated from her team, none of her equipment working, at the mercy of an unknown force that was, safe to say, a few levels beyond her.

Her tricorder mysteriously reactivated. She scanned the area, to no avail. Her tricorder, when pressed, made dejected bleeps without contacting anyone.

"Oh no!" Mika quailed.

(OOC: Pardon the short post. T'Ashaya is available for anyone on search teams to find.)

T'Ashaya
Mirusan Temple of Doom

= = =

The Vulcan Tsunami lay curled into a ball at the foot of the Mirusan statue of Poseidan, her hands covering her ears. She lay there screaming in agony. The room, silent as stone, silent as the long millenia that passed before and the long millenia yet to pass, to most ears, bellowed in hers. Sounds silent to even Vulcan hearing drummed in her ears, booming sub-sonics well below what most races felt, squealing ultrasonics, more radiation than sound, assulted her. All the while, the Mirusan Poseidan looked down on his Vulcan child as if it were highly amused.

Somehow the young Vulcan woman managed to force herself to her feet. She made her way to the next room by sheer force of will. Jasmine and Nurse Dallas were no where to be seen.

Logic dictated that she continue her search, despite her discomfort, despite the fact that she was drenched head to toe in salt water. Her equalibrium failed failed her and she staggered down the halls in search of others.

"Commander Heloi? Nurse Dallas? Anyone?" she called out.

No reply.

She continued her search. Somewhere, sometime, she would have to come across someone.

"One Step Closer"

By

Legate Kylar Curran
Chief Liaison Officer

Captain M'Kantu,
Commanding Officer

Rear Admiral 'Livia Proctor
Deep Space 5 CO-Incumbent

Commander Kedr'ni'van,
Commanding Officer, Hammer of Progress

Appearances by:
Stanley Prescott (NPC), Engineering

T'Rehn (NPC), Operations

Leon Khatrowen (unauthorized), Security

Har'ja'fer (NPC), Science Officer, Hammer of Progress

******

Deck 3
Admiral Proctor's Quarters

With the backdrop of the Hammer in Progress hovering in the windows behind them, the Galaxy's Liaison officer and the soon-to-be commander of Deep Space 5 were locked in a momentous battle of wills.

Or so 'Livia Proctor thought.

Her fingers flew in a rapid succession of moves, instantaneously translating to the holographic screen between her and the Kelvan. Her brow had broken out in a minor sweat as the numbers increased on the vertical board - in Curran's favor.

Taking a moment to glance at her opponent, it dawned on her that the Federation officer had hardly broken a nail - figuratively speaking - as his ice-blue eyes remained focused on the board, but hardly a look of determination. Her brow crinkled as she threw down the fingertip input devices in a fury.

"You've been playing with me!" She jumped from her seat, throwing it back in the process to land in a resounding thud on the floor.

"I'm not sure I understand, Admiral. Has someone else been playing?" He pointedly made a show of delicately removing each fingertip shield one by one, replacing them in order within the placement unit. He doubted Proctor would want to be playing Strategema with him anytime soon after this game. The numbers flashed 1476 to 122 on the board before flaring out of existence.

"Don't play coy with me, Curran. I'm not in the mood for it." Her hands, fingers long and delicate themselves, gripped the sides of the board showing whites. Her eyes burned with an intensity that would have disintegrated entire colonies if she had the power. She was most definitely not pleased.

"And I am not in the mood for your interference in matters not pertaining to you." He genially eased himself out of his bucket seat, pivoting around it to ease the elaccan frame under the playing surface with ease.

"How dare you talk to me in that manner! I'll have you stripped from this ship and position. In fact, I'll have your commission when we get to Deep Space 5. You'll see how powerful an opponent I can be."

"No one is questioning your power, Admiral, with the exception that I doubt you would be able to do anything to me. I am not Starfleet, if you would recall. I only answer to the Federation Council and the Ambassador-General of the Diplomatic Corps." He tucked his hands in behind the small of his back, posture straight.

Proctor drew her dark brown eyes to mere slits, teeth clenched.

"I am an Admiral. I can do whatever I like on a Starfleet vessel. Even have you arrested if I please."

"No, ma'am, you cannot without due reason." Kylar strolled towards her, the muted sound of his pant legs swishing together the only audio in the room, other than the heavy breathing of the female. "And you do not have that reason, nor do you have sufficient reason to remove Captain M'Kantu from his post as you intend."

'Livia, sputtered, as her façade dropped. Struggling to retain composure to hide thoughts that had escaped through expression, she abruptly stood up straight, turned on a booted heel and marched to the replicator. Stopping short of the unit, her eyes burned into the reflection with an intensity of hatred mingled with fear.

"Merlot, 2376. Chateau Petrus. One glass." She closed her eyes as she sought composure.

"Captain M'Kantu is putting this ship and the research team in peril. Those... tri-pedal freaks are killers. You were at Havras, Legate, you know they're only capable of murder. They have no respect for our laws. They deserve to be subjugated and taught civilized behavior. Barbarians." She swept her hand out to grasp the stem of her glass. The materialization had taken longer than usual. She brought the dark liquid to her lips and drank deeply of it, before Curran could get her attention.

Her eyes flew open, spewing out the dark brown sludge that had been filled within her glass.

"Sewage!" She stood there, gaping, raw slough dribbling down her box-like chin and hands where it hit. Throwing the glass against a wall, she raced fro the lavatory.

Curran fought hard to avoid a *human* emotion of laughter from escaping. Rather, he reveled in her displeasure of having her foul mouth inundated with the waste of 1500 beings of various species.

The lights flickered red, dimmed to normal evening, and then flooded the room with a sun-bright flare, blinding the Kelvan. His arms flew up to block the light, but it was too late. He couldn't see.

**********

Deck 1,
Main Bridge

"Bridge to Commander O'Shea!" Daren M'Kantu, already worrisome over losing contact with the entire Away Team, including DiMillo didn't need this added headache. Soon after DiMillo had checked in, major malfunctions had begun to occur throughout the ship.

"Sir, inter-ship communications just went down again." Stanley Prescott felt helpless. He's just gotten communications back by piggybacking on auxiliary circuits not meant to do much more than operate basic functions. Then they went down again.

Daren slammed a fist into his hand.

"Can you locate more than just a deck as a source, Lieutenant?" T'Rehn, in her usual Vulcan demeanour, deadpanned a reply.

"I am unable to determine a precise location, Captain. Only that it would appear to be in the vicinity of subsection 23A to 42B."

M'Kantu searched his memory. The blueprints of the saucer were vague.

"The impulse engines?" It hit him full force.

"Computer core access and photon torpedo magazines are on Deck 10."

He twisted his head to face the viewscreen and the Hydran cruiser keeping in close proximity.

"If a photon torpedo is fired on the Hydran ship from this distance, it would be fatal to both them and us, sir."

"Get a security and engineering contingent down to Deck 10. Shut down those magazines. Use the Jeffries tubes."

"The computer has shut down all access to standard exit points, sir. We cannot over-ride without causing significant damage. With the ship's systems in flux, access tunnels may be monitored and defense systems activated."

"Is there any exit from the Bridge to any part of the ship that we could use?"

"Captain!" Daren moved to the Tactical Console at Lt. Tarin's call.

"Lieutenant?" Silently, he prayed to Allah that the Hydrans were not going to be a problem.

"The maintenance ducts. The sub-system access points. Maintenance droids operate within them as they are too small for the standard humanoid." Her eyes cast to M'Kantu's right. His eyes were drawn to where she was looking.

"Ensign Khatrowen reporting for duty, sir!" Daren never even heard the Caitian arrive. Of course, he was only a pair of feet tall and no larger than a housecat, also just as silent.

"You know what needs to be done, Ensign?"

"Aye, sir. Someone put the schematics on a padd for me, and I'll be on my way!"

"Make it so." T'Rehn, already thinking ahead as a Vulcan annoyingly does, passed him the padd with the plans on it. Khatrowen took one glance and bounded to the closest duct.

"Get those communications back online, Ensign Prescott. Lt. T'Rehn, use every bit of power and ingenuity you can to keep a fix on Ensign Khatrowen. He's the best chance we have until we get communications back."

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

Aboard the Hammer of Progress, Commander Kedr'ni'van stood atop the dais of his command podium on the bridge. He hadn’t moved from this position since beaming back from the infidel's tin can several hours earlier. An odd site, seeing three arms crossed.

"Are your readings in error, Har'ja'fer?" The manner and disposition of the Hydran commander was different now that he was back on board his own territory. As soon as he'd arrived back on the Hammer of Progress, the firs thing he did was rip off the breathing mask and drink deeply of the methane that gave his species life. Now he was suitably less tense and collected. Kedr'ni'van did not choose to go to battle easily, unless sufficiently provoked.

Inwardly, he was glad to not have been assigned to the Havras contingent. The T`Kith`Kin were un-natural even if they shunned technology. The Hydrans themselves were not dependent on technology themselves, instead preferring organic means whenever possible.

Not to say he wouldn't respond when needed, though. He was not a fan of the Federation or its values. They were inferior to him, preferring battle and aggression over scientific exploration. Because of the Federation and its change in policies, the Hydrans had been forgotten in the past, boundaries defenseless. Many projects and children of the stars had been lost because of the retreat of the infidels, who'd only used them for their own ends. Now, the fallout from those methods had set back the Hydran Monarchy by at least a century, maybe more.

Broken promises were all that the Federation was about.

The science officer whom Kedr'ni'van had questioned responded raptly, breaking his reverie.

"Yes, Commander. I've run multiple tests. Their systems are unstable." As the Hydran ran down a list of system checks and failures, Kedr'ni'van saw the running lights of the Galaxy flicker on, off, then dim, like a fluorescent light panel about to die.

"Are their defensive systems affected?"

"Unable to determine at this point, Commander..." He droned off as he depressed system scans.

"What is it, Har'ja'fer?"

"Commander! The Starfleet ship has opened up photon torpedo tubes!"

"Shields up! Begin evasive maneuvers!" That captain must be insane... Firing a torpedo this close will only serve to send them both to their gods!

"Communications, get me a signal to the Starfleet ship." Even as the Hammer groaned underneath to respond to commands, Kedr'ni'van managed to stand his ground. Being tri-pedal had its advantages.

"No response, sir."

"Tactical, target their engines and weapons ports. Prepare to fire on my command."

"Testing To Destruction, Part 6"

Principal Characters

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Lt. Ella Grey

*****

Mirusa VI
Somewhere Inside The Temple Complex
The Present

"I didn't lie!" Ella snapped. "I meant every damn word!"

The walls suddenly receded back further. Ella narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "I've wanted to tell you for some time now."

The walls went back further. Ella thought that she could see the beginnings of a passage being revealed as they passed.

Ella wanted to laugh at this test. Tell the truth... or die. But she was more furious than anything.

"I hate watermelon."

Nothing.

"I don't like the color pink."

Nothing.

She drew in a breath. "I imagine Victor naked from time to time."

The wall moved back.

Ella snorted. Inanimate objects interested in her love life, or lack there of. Great.

"Grey," Victor said quietly, his voice still toneless. "What are you doing?"

"It seems to like it when I tell the truth about things." Ella said blandly. "Especially when they're about you, apparently. I think the naked comment was worth a couple more inches though, if you ask me."

The odd feeling inside his head kept getting stronger, and threatened to spread into his chest. With a frown, Victor turned and looked at the wall, measuring distance with his eyes, trying to focus on something, anything, besides the impossible topic of the conversation. "The wall moved a foot, Grey. How much do you want?"

Ella burst out laughing at that comment. Really, what else could she do?

"Plenty." Ella said as she measured the distance herself. "So, looks like it's your lucky day, Krieghoff, You get to play twenty questions with Ella Grey and not have to worry never being able to show your face again."

Victor looked at her and wondered why he felt as if he were floating. Perhaps the aliens running this place were doing something to him? That would explain things. "Grey, why would I worry about showing my face?"

Ella ignored him and sighed deeply, which her implant just couldn't get across properly. "Victor looks pretty hot in leather." The wall moved back a bit further. She glared back at him. "You could ask me some questions and save me from having to think up random things on my own."

"Ask you questions about what?"

"Whatever you think the wall will move for."

A dozen questions came to mind instantly, then fifty, then a hundred, then there were suddenly so many questions clamoring in his head that Victor winced and turned towards the wall as he tried to sort them out. "I... You...." He stopped, took a breath, and pushed all the other questions away, leaving only the first one, the one he needed to know the answer to more than anything else. "You weren't lying when you said that? You... It wasn't just so I'd think someone had, before I died?"

Of all the questions that he could have asked, this was the one that she wanted the least. It was easier to keep it at a sexual level, at least then Ella could have twisted the truth later or so she wanted to believe. Later, God, Ella thought miserably, if they lived through this what the hell, was she going to do then?

"I wasn't lying." Ella said quietly. "I'm not a good person, Tiger. I lie all the time but I wasn't lying about that."

Victor continued looking at the wall, trying to sort out the sudden feelings inside him. He was light. He was heavy. He was hot. He was cold. He was flying. He was falling. He was... "Why didn't you... No." He stopped. "When did you first know that?"

"I'm not exactly sure," Ella said with a frown, "for a while now, anyway."

The words didn't make the feelings inside him recede. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I told you now." Ella pointed out.

The walls rumbled, but didn't move any closer.

She sighed. "Because I knew you didn't feel the same, okay? Because I didn't want to mess up our friendship. Because I've never felt this way about someone before and didn't know what to do about it."

"I thought you knew all about this?" Victor replied slowly, trying to remember how to make his head turn to look at her, or just to make any part of his body move, period.

Ella laughed, glad that she didn't have to make it hollow because her implant already did that. "What do I know about anything? I don't do relationships, remember?"

"You were with... all those people, and not one of them was family, Grey?"

She looked surprised. "Why, no. Just playmates with mutual interests." Ella looked slightly pained and regarded the wall with hostility. What a horrible idea for a room, telling the truth. She wished they were stuck back in the room with the flames. "Guess that makes me more like Angelienia than you thought, huh Victor?"

"No."

"Because?"

"Because there isn't anything else for her but that," he replied. The wall in front of him was gray, like all the other walls they'd seen, and had no discernable joints or seams. "There is for you."

"I suppose." Ella said, not taking her eyes off of the wall. She wondered if she could squeeze through it and then snorted. Not unless she weighed 90 lbs or less. It really wasn't fair. *Victor* didn't have to spill his guts about anything or be embarrassed about anything.

Well, since she was already about three feet down in her own tomb...

"The other day in the turbolift," Ella said as casually as she could. "There weren't any pheromones."

For a moment, the wall wavered in his field of vision and Victor wasn't certain if it was his perceptions or the wall that had changed. He opened his mouth to speak, to say something, but all that came out was, "No pheromones?"

"Nope."

With a frown Victor looked down at his feet and found them, unbelievably, still resting on the floor. Why did he feel like he was falling when he was standing upright? He was... he felt like he was losing control, which was bad. He had to stop and understand what was happening to him, had to understand before something happened and he hurt someone, before he hurt Grey. He struggled against the odd roaring in his ears, made himself say something to change the subject so he could think, "If you don't like pink, why do you have bags and things that are that color?"

Ella blinked and then laughed. "Not subtle at all, Krieghoff. But to answer your question, my mother likes pink and buys me things all the time in pink. She means well so I don't have the heart to tell her that I prefer other colors."

"Ah." That didn't seem like enough of an answer, but he didn't know what else to say. He didn't know anything that he should be saying, even though he felt like there were a thousand things he should be. There had been all those questions in his head a moment before - where had they gone? Why was his mind... blank?

She sighed and couldn't help the angry note that crept into her voice; or, to be more accurate, the angry expression on her face. Her voice still sounded the same. She was definitely going to have to work on that when she created voice 2.0. "Look, you don't feel anything for me, fine, but you don't have to make small talk just to make me feel better."

"If I knew what to say, I'd say it, Grey." Victor was, oddly, proud that he'd managed that response. It was a sentence, with words and everything. It even had her name in it. He was certain that was important.

There were so many things she wanted to say to that. Instead, she fell back on a childish tactic known all about the universe.

"If I knew what to say, I'd say it, Grey." Ella mimicked him with a scowl, earning a frown from Victor.

Victor slowly turned his head towards her, the effort required to do that almost making him break out into a sweat, but was unable to remove the frown that her response had brought. "You're angry," he observed, his voice as toneless as hers.

"No shit."

"The truth shouldn't make you angry, Grey - it's the truth. You should just accept it and move on."

"That'd be fine advice, Krieghoff, if you had a truth for me."

Grey wanted a truth from him? Victor's frown deepened. What kind of a truth? Everything he'd ever said to her was the truth - or he believed it to be. Why did she... oh. She didn't like to tell the truth, she was still scared to let her inner face be seen; that's why she was mad. She just needed him to tell her something that was true, something about her, so she'd know that he understood that, so she'd know that he was glad she'd told him this.

Of course, difficult as that realization had been to arrive at, finding something to say that would do that was another thing entirely. Should he tell her that he sometimes held the pillow she always used so that he could smell her scent on it and pretend that it was her on the nights that she wasn't there? Or tell her that he dreamed about her sometimes, dreamed about doing the things that Angelienia wanted to do with him, but with Grey instead of the Ktarian pilot?

No, neither of those seemed right. He needed to say something else, something that she wouldn't mistake for him just wanting to be with her that way. Something that would tell her that he wanted to find out if they could be together like family, to find out if she might be the One. If she'd just said something different, something he could work with, then... said. What she'd said... no, *how* she'd said it, that was it. Her voice was the key. That was what he needed to say to her.

Victor frowned a bit deeper, sorting the words out in his head, making them fit in the right order until they meant what he wanted them to, until they told her that he wanted her to say the words again with her real voice so he'd know if she was the One. "You shouldn't have said the words like that, Grey. Your voice has no soul, it's dead. Those words are supposed to be alive when you say them."

Ella drew a quick intake of breath and her eyes flashed dangerously.

Victor looked at her for a second, head tilted to the side, waiting, and then frowned. "You're supposed to say something, Grey," he prompted. Maybe she didn't understand what he'd meant? He didn't think that was the case, but that was all right, he could tell her. "Try saying the words again," he prompted.

And slice another vein open, Ella thought. Oh, she didn't think so. If he wanted words...

She let him have it. Boy, did she let him have it. By the time that she had recounted every stupid or moronic thing he had ever done, insensitive thing he had ever said, and had cursed him, his family and conception, the day they met, and herself for being an idiot, the passage way was wide open.

Ella marched right towards it.

He stood still, as he'd stood as she screamed at him in her dead, lifeless voice, the words flaying him, laying him open in ways he'd never felt before, replacing the new, odd feeling inside him with one he knew well, one he'd known all his life. When she was done, when she had cut away everything inside him with her cold dead words, and there was nothing left, just emptiness, in it's place, he stood still and watched her walk away, through the door that had opened in the wall.

He took a breath, just one, and felt it whistle through the hollow pit that was all that remained inside him, closed his eyes, and followed her. Even if she hadn't meant what she's said before, even if what she'd said to him now was what she really felt about him, he wouldn't let her walk through this place alone. She was part of the Galaxy's crew, and they were his, and he'd see her off this planet and back to the ship because that was what he did.

But the door wouldn't let him through.

He pushed, but the nothingness at the door held him fast, like a wall of tritanium.

He spoke up, told her to wait, but Grey either didn't hear him or chose not to.

He pushed harder, shoved at the empty air, but nothing moved - until he stopped and frowned, realization arriving. He had to give the door a truth before it would let him through.

He looked at Grey as she walked away, closed his eyes, and whispered the words that he now knew he should have said before, the ones that might have made Grey stay, and hold him and lie to him some more so he could feel whole inside again, even if just for a little while, the words that for him, at least, weren't a lie, "I think I love you, Grey."

The barrier at the doorway fell away, leaving only the ones inside him and between them behind.

****

Mirusa VI
The Temple Complex
The Present

The huge room with its central Hydranoid figure looked the same as Victor remembered it - minus, of course, the Hydran team that had been following them. He supposed that they too had been guests of the presence that he still felt watching him. Maybe they'd done better and been released sooner, maybe they would die in the maze of room. It didn't matter.

All that mattered was that the presence had felt it had hurt them enough and let them go. Grey was still alive, even if she hated him. He was still alive, even if he was hollow inside again. That was just the way things were, the way they would be.

The way they always were.

He paused and looked back at the expressionless figure towering at the center of the room and smiled, letting the mask he wore fall away and his inner self look out through his eyes. "Let them go," Death whispered into the still room, the soft words rebounding from wall to wall like a storm of rime-covered knives. "Let them all go - mine and the others, the Hydrans. Let them go, or I'll be back... and if I come back, I'll kill you, even if I have to destroy the entire planet, shatter this world like a soap bubble and watch it die. I've done it before, and I will do it again if I have to."

He paused, let the echoes die down, and added one last time, "Let them go," before he turned and followed Grey out into the narrow passage and the daylight at its end.

By the time he'd reached the light, he was only Victor again, hollow and empty inside like he'd been when he first arrived on the Galaxy. He wondered if the presence knew what it had done to him, or cared. It had tested him to destruction, unmade him, returned him to what he'd been two years before, when he'd come aboard the Galaxy and thought that this time things might be different.

He wondered if it knew what that meant.

He wondered if he did.

"Cat in the Ducts" part 1

Ensign Le'on Khatowren, Security Officer

Plus applicable bridge crew

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

"Captain!" Daren moved to the Tactical Console at Lt. Tarin's call.

"Lieutenant?" Silently, he prayed to Allah that the Hydrans were not going to be a problem.

"The maintenance ducts. The sub-system access points. Maintenance droids operate within them as they are too small for the standard humanoid." Her eyes cast to M'Kantu's right. His eyes were drawn to where she was looking.

~Which leaves only me...~ Le'on thought as he caught the gaze of Tarin. He stepped up "Ensign Khatrowen reporting for duty, sir!" he said. Daren never even heard the Caitian arrive. Of course, he was only a pair of feet tall and no larger than a housecat, also just as silent.

"You know what needs to be done, Ensign?" the Captain asked.

"Aye, sir." he said nodding, eager to prove his worth. "Someone put the schematics on a PADD for me, and I'll be on my way!"

"Make it so." T'Rehn, already thinking ahead as a Vulcan annoyingly does, passed him the PADD with the plans on it.

A PADD the size of a billboard was handed to Le'on. He took a guick look at it and then stuffed the whole thing up the back of his uniform top and it looked like he was concealing a box or something on his back. Khatrowen took one glance and bounded to the closest duct.

"Get those communications back online, Ensign Prescott. Lt. T'Rehn, use every bit of power and ingenuity you can to keep a fix on Ensign Khatrowen. He's the best chance we have until we get communications back." he heard the Captain say as he ripped off the covering to the duct on the bridge and, without too much thought, jumped down into the darkened duct.

This was the fun part... And best of all, he didn't need to take that damn turbolift with the sadistic computer in it.

Le'on allowed himself to drop at least two decks before beginning to apply the brakes before the first sharp curve on Deck 5 turned him into a kitty pudding. He flexed all four of his paws and let his full set of claws to come out. He pressed them to both sides of the duct. His rate of descent slowed enough for him to survive the curve. He wondered briefly what the people on the bridge were viewing seeing as how he now had sparks coming out from the sides of the duct as his claws generated a ton of friction on the metal.

"Wow..." a crewman muttered on the bridge while taking a glance at Le'on's progress at the Science 2 station. "That boy can move..."

At Deck 4 Le'on retracted his claws and tucked into a bit of a ball for the first curve. Deck 5, he rebounded off of the side and the PADD came out from under his shirt, he grabbed for it and (thankfully) snagged it as he and the PADD continued down the Bobsled-Like ducts.

The ducts continued in a gentle degrade downwards. Le'on managed to pull the PADD closer to himself and use it as a sled. Just then, the duct took a sharp downward turn and he sped past decks 6 and 7 in no time at all. He risked a glance down and noticed that he was coming up to a major junction. His eyes grew wide as he saw just how big the junction was.

He took a look up as he caught a view of it. The PADD didn't do it justice...

"Aw hell..." he muttered. This was gonna hurt.

"A Leap of Faith"

Lt. Jasmine Heloi
Chief Science Officer & Vanguard XO

& Cmdr. Karyn Dallas
Chief Counselor & Second Officer
USS Galaxy - A

Karyn took a deep breath and held it as they made their way over to what they had dubbed the "watery" themed door. As they got closer to it, Karyn realized the symbols surrounding its rim were actually a lot cruder then she had first thought. The symbols reminded her of the crude drawings she had seen in pictures of ancient caves on earth. Armed with no tricorder and no way to contact the ship or any of the other Away Team members, Dallas prayed that the apprehension she felt was all for naught.

With both women leaning all of their weight against the door, they managed to get it open. Karyn had expected it to make some sort of creaking noise as befitting the Gothic setting, but the silence she was greeted by was ten times more eerie. She strained to hear Jasmine's footsteps behind her. Neither one of them had said a word since deciding to head toward the door, each of them understanding that no amount of talking was going to quell their nerves.

They were greeted by pitch blackness, and as a cool breeze washed over them, Dallas fought to catch her breath. Normally, she wouldn't be afraid of the dark, but because she was using her biomechanical legs and wasn't as comfortable with them as she was with her gravchair, she had been relying on her surroundings to remain steady and avoid obstacles. She felt like a blind woman desperately searching for something to hold on to. And then she felt something, a stone?, blocking her path and she reached out blindly to keep from tripping over it, but her feet had already sent it into motion. She heard stone scrape against stone and then nothing except a faint ripple of water. Her feet no longer completely underneath her, Karyn reached behind her to grab a hold of Jasmine for balance, but to her horror, she realized she was grasping air.

"Jasmine," Dallas called out, her voice a mixture of panic and fear.

Jasmine Heloi was, for the moment, wondering what the number was of the shuttle that just hit her. One moment she was behind Karyn, the next...the next she was stuck in an entirely different patch of darkness on her back. This just really wasn't her day. Experimentally, the Science Chief tried to move but she found any movement was restricted by..yes, she was bound. "This day just keeps getting better and better..." she muttered, straining her eyes in an attempt to see something of her surroundings.

Something large wooshed over her head, its movement indicated only by a heavy breeze. She really didn't think, as it wooshed back in the opposite direction, that a rather large nocturnal creature had suddenly decided she was lunch. "Karyn!" she called out, for a moment forgetting that she could, if she so desired, cast out with her mind to find the straying counselor.

Dallas could just barely make out the sound of Jasmine's voice. She wondered briefly if it was the work of her own desperate imagination or if she was truly attuned to reality. Karyn strained to see through the pitch blackness, a part of her knowing she would not like what she would see next.

Perhaps her eyes had gotten used to the dark, or perhaps sheer adrenaline made her vision more acute, but whatever the reason, Karyn realized not only was she standing very close to the edge of a vast chasm, but the Science Chief had somehow ended up on the opposite side of it. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she searched for any indication as to how they'd been separated, and in turn, four of means to make it across.

Finding nothing, Karyn decided to try and talk to Jasmine to see if there was a means of escape on her end. Praying that her voice would carry what seemed an almost insurmountable distance, Karyn called out, "Do you see a way across at you end?"

Heloi suppressed the urge to laugh. It was, after all, dark let alone impossible to even make out that she was tied hand and foot to whatever the cold surface was. "I'm afraid not! Kinda hard to move over here since I seem to be tied to a rock!" She was, however, glad to hear Karyn's voice. At least it seemed that someone was free.

Dallas nearly lost all of the color in her cheeks as she considered what Jasmine had just told her. As before, she wanted to believe her mind was just playing tricks on her, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she indeed saw that Jasmine was bound to a large rock. But that in itself was not responsible for the goose bumps or the shivers that's were soon running up and down her spine. Large jagged blades shaped in what almost looked like a shark's mouth were slowly making their way toward Jasmine's head, and Karyn could imagine that soon the blades would surround her head and neck, ripping into flesh and hanging on with a vise-like grip.

As if to deepen her panic, when Karyn looked down, she became dizzy confronted with the sheer depth of the chasm in front of her. Even if she were capable of jumping, the sheer width of the divide would be impossible for anyone to cross. Once more, she searched frantically for some sort of bridge, knowing that if she didn't act soon, Jasmine would be dead, but also knowing that she could never make it across. Karyn wondered if they were being monitored, if somehow the forces that brought them here were looking for them to fail. Surely they knew that she could never make that leap...

A disembodied voice echoed through the cavern, "This is the first test - the leap of faith. Life. Or death. The choice is yours."

"Life, dammit, I choose life!" Karyn muttered, not quite sure if the voice she heard was real or a product of her own imagination. The action she prepared herself to take seemed disconnected from the voice she'd heard. Only a sense of urgency and panic remained.

Her hands were clammy and sweaty and she felt disconnected from her body. Pushing down her panic, Dallas forced herself to think logically. Something or someone else was in control here. If they were meant to be killed, wouldn't they already be dead? As she watched the blades come closer and closer, Karyn realized she would have to make a gut decision. She was not interested in standing by and watching another person die. Perhaps she would be remembered as a fool for this, but at least she would have tried.

Karyn Dallas was not someone who generally liked taking risks, especially when it involved risking the lives of others. Predictability and routine were safe, and in the years following the reactivation of her commission, they had come to define her life personally and professionally. Whatever drive she had had to step out of her comfort zone had been suppressed. Responding to gut feelings and other emotional responses was reserved for counseling sessions only. To do otherwise was to invite tragedy and ridicule.

The counselor closed her eyes and tried to envision herself flying. She didn't understand why it was so important to her now, but she remembered reading texts about visualizing one's ultimate goal in order to make it a reality. Perhaps the forces that had brought her here with somehow read her mind, even though she was certain she was headed for her death.

Then, almost without thinking, Karyn took a few giant steps backward and then began (as much as she could given her biomechanical legs) to run toward the chasm, screaming as she hit the edge, knowing she had lost her mind, expecting to find oblivion.

Expecting to find... the firm ground beneath her feet. "What?" She asked a little too loudly as her eyes flew open. To her shock, a rope bridge was suddenly underneath her. Although she would have to walk steadily across to avoid getting her foot caught and to maintain her balance, Dallas could see that the bridge extended all the way across, and that the blades over Jasmine's head, although perilously close to her eyes, were frozen in place. "Jesus! Did you see that?"

"Um," Jasmine replied, her eyes focused on the far too close blades, "I noticed that certain death hasn't come for me as of yet." Her lips quirked into an amused smile. She rather preferred being able to prevent her own death - or at least try to in the cockpit of her fighter or with the cold comfort of a phaser in her hand. This whole...bondage thing...just wasn't her.

"Right," Karyn replied in all seriousness. Her legs were trembling badly and sweat was pouring from her. All of a sudden she felt warm and dizzy, and sheer will was the only thing preventing her from losing her balance.

Dallas refused to look down, and instead replaced her fear with cold hard anger and determination. She had survived Romulus, lanjep, the Borg, the Breen, Victor Krieghoff. Karyn was not going to allow her physical limitations get the better of her this time.

Each step seemed to take tortuously too long, as in physical therapy where she always felt too exposed to feel whole. Images of John Bhrode yelling at her to "Get your ass in gear!" flashed before her. The smug

bastard's memory was enough to fuel the rage within.

The feel of firm, solid ground was unexpected, and moments later, she realized she'd made it safely across. Not wishing to waste another moment, Dallas hurried over to Heloi and began untying her.

"Well," Jasmine said, after a moment of relishing her freedom, "That was fun."

OOC: With this series of posts, the mission is ending.

"The Deep Dark, Part I"

Cdr. Cassius Henderson - USS Galaxy XO (Frank B.)
1Lt. T'Shani a'Akledorian - SFMC Furies' CO (Matt M.)
Msr. Sgt. Carl Johnson - SFMC Furies' Cmd. NCO (APC: Matt M.)
Sgt. Louise Markinson - SFMC Furies' Crypto Tech (APC: Frank B.)
Pvt. Elizabeth Salazaar - SFMC Furies' Medic (NPC)
G'Iv K'Vos'Toj - IHV Hammer of Progress Imperial Guard (SPC: Matt M.)

== Mirusa VI: Archeological Digsite ==

"So this is what exploration feels like," Cass Henderson said, feeling philosophical as he stood before a giant humanoid statue in the middle of the largest, most prominent of the many temples. The figure, worn smooth by the ages to the point of having no features, towered over him by a good ten feet, it's massive three sets of arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture. Or perhaps it's features had always been smooth. Cass grinned and squatted, momentarily absorbed by the perfect footprint that his boot had left in the ever-present sand of Mirusa VI.

Behind him, the sounds of his team entering the chamber, open to the sky and surrounded by Parthenonesque columns, with their equipment turned on full. Cass stood back up and glanced at the head of the icon, noting it's three stalked eyes...curious.

"Do not touch the Di'aa'gak, Henderson Commander," the Hydran guard--K'Vos'Toj--chittered through his beak.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Cass replied, standing up to face the Hydran officer. "Though, I am curious exactly what you mean by the Di'aa'gak? You mean the icon?"

He pointed up at the statue, while motioning for his team to fan out and take some scans. This was where the previous scientists had been working when they dissappeared, so this was where they would start the search.

"It's the general word for 'Gods', Cass," the voice of T'Shani a'Akledorian called over as she walked toward him and Toj. She smiled, knowing that she was irking Cassius to no end by pointing that fact out to him.

"So, where do you want us to go, Fearless Leader?" Tish asked Cassius, while mocking seriousness. She knew exactly what they needed to do: get down there and search. But Cassius was in charge, as it were, and she decided to defer to him. *Especially* since the last thing she needed was for them to get into another fight about something stupid, like the other night...

She shook that thought from her mind.

"Is it really?" Cass asked, still paying most of his attention to the Hydran observer. For the most part, he was enjoying learning a little more about the ruins, and the Hydrans. "Does this idol resemble one of your culture's deities?"

Toj dipped his central eye-stalk toward Cassius, while the other two focused both on the statue and T'Shani, respectively. "Yes, Henderson," the young Hydran sibilantly hissed. "The Di'aa'gak are the three founders of the Third Plane of Extolation in our faithful, the *Nerruv'ir'in*; the God's of Progress, as you would call them."

"That's fascinating," Cass said as he stepped around the statue, deeper into the room. The early evening breeze seemed to whip through the room, wiping away his footprints even as he took the next steps. "Are there temple complexes like this one on your home worlds?"

Toj shifted his weight from one pedestal-like leg to the other, while one of his eye stalks darted around. "Yes, Henderson, there are," was all he said.

Tish looked from the statue, to Cassius, then rested her gaze on Toj. Obviously, he didn't care to elaborate more on the subject. 'Just as well,' she thought. 'I don't really care to hear about it, anyway.'

Turning impatiently back to the other three Marines that had accompanied them--Johnson, Markinson, and Salazaar--she motioned for them to come forward and join her, Cassius, and the Hydran. As they approached, Tish couldn't help but notice each of their demeanors: Johnson was, as always, cool and collected, studying his tricorder's readings through his TEDD. Salazaar looked like she had seen a ghost (and Tish wouldn't have doubted her if she said she *had*, in fact); she was whiter than an Aenar.

Then, there was Louise Markinson. Tish couldn't quite figure out her story. Her *real* story, that was. She had mysteriously appeared during a last-minute personnel transfer before leaving starbase 212 for this mission, and had hardly spoken to anyone beside her supervisor, Yan-Se. Whenever the woman was near Tish, it made the Andorian's antenna's perk... and not in a good way.

"What have you got, Guns?" Tish asked of Johson. Although, technically, he was now upped in rank to Master Sergeant, everyone (including Tish) still called him "Guns" or "Master Guns". It was at his own request, really. *Order* was more like it. Carl didn't care for the new apellation at all. It (1) made him feel *older* (something that Stalansky did enough of, as it was), and (2) was just too clumsy to always be called by. So, "Guns" it was.

"Ma'am," the black Georgian drawled while looking at Tish through the TEDD, "this place is all fucked up," he pronounced, drawing a beady stare from both T'Shani and Cassius, while Tish covertly motioned toward their three-eyed *guest* with one of her antennas.

"Oh, ah..." Carl tried to backtrack, realizing the faux pas he had committed.

"This place gives me the creeps!" Salazaar blurted out, before darting her head back and forth over her shoulders, several times. Tish sighed, and realized that when they got back to the Galaxy, there would have to be *alot* more field training, especially for some of the younger Marines.

Mouse looked around for a moment, then got to scanning. Salazaar and Master Guns had it right. This place was a mess. She understood the whole 'alien culture interest' that Handler was evidently engrossed in. But at the same time, this place had caused something like fifteen dissappearances. That qualified as weird.

Tish noticed that the G'Iv didn't respond to any of the comments made by Johnson and Salazaar. It was hard to read him, really. He kept himself very guarded, emotionally. Though she assumed he was a skilled warrior (obviously, to be an Imperial Guardsman), she sensed a more thoughtful, circumspect attitude about him. Definitely a departure from the Gral she had *met*; N'Fth'Nor.

Carl composed himself. "No, Lieutenant. There's some strange... phenomenon that is playing holy hell with our sensors. Though, I think that if I set up a few booster relays, I might be able to overcome whatever it is." He shrugged, "It may just be the planet's geo-mag field. I remember the geeks saying something was strange about that."

The 'geeks' that Johnson was referring to were the Science Department number-crunchers that had given the Furies the basic "Lay of the Land" data for the mission briefing.

Turning to Cassius, Tish cocked one of her antennas forward, "What do you think, Cass? Couldn't hurt?"

"Go for it," Cass replied, wandering over to examine a series of stone bas reliefs. This place had to be at least a thousand years old. Incredible. "Yeah, I think if it survived this long, it won't have a problem with a few scans."

Tish nodded curtly to Cassius, then waved the go-ahead to Johnson, Markinson, and Salazaar.

"I will oversee the placement of such devices in the temple structure, Henderson Commander," the G'Iv informed Henderson, before quickly turning on his powerful, squat, tripodian legs.

Cass nodded absently, not really paying attention to the Hydran officer. Tish could take care of whatever 'supervision' the alien cared to offer. And with Markinson's hyperalert presence, he felt comfortable enough in just enjoying being somewhere so... ancient.

"The Deep Dark, Part II"

Cdr. Cassius Henderson - USS Galaxy XO (Frank B.)
1Lt. T'Shani a'Akledorian - SFMC Furies' CO (Matt M.)
Msr. Sgt. Carl Johnson - SFMC Furies' Cmd. NCO (APC: Matt M.)
Sgt. Louise Markinson - SFMC Furies' Crypto Tech (APC: Frank B.)
Pvt. Elizabeth Salazaar - SFMC Furies' Medic (NPC)
G'Iv K'Vos'Toj - IHV Hammer of Progress Imperial Guard (SPC: Matt M.)

== Mirusa VI: Archeological Digsite ==

Sunset began not a moment, later, bathing the entire temple complex in it's crimson rays. Cass stepped through the wall of pillars on the eastern side of the temple and sat down, dangling his feet over the edge of the elevated complex. As he looked out across the temple complex, the base camp, the desert, and finally the mountain range, he felt a calm that had been really elusive lately.

"There's just too much going on," Cass muttered to himself, vaguely thinking about how great it would be to share the moment with Eko. For a moment he considered having her beam down, but logic slew the idea half formed. It would take her an hour to disentangle herself from her work, and by then it would be over.

Tish was content to let her Marines handle the setup of the equipment--a task that should take more than fifteen minutes, at the most. If Toj wanted to "supervise", then so be it. If anything went awry, Johnson would be sure to call in.

De-cocking her M90, she walked over to where Cassius was sitting, on the edge of a huge wall that separated the main temple gallery they were in from the rest of the ancient temple's terrace. Her breath caught momentarily as she watched him sitting there, the large sun setting his sandy hair ablaze.

'If only another time, another life, perhaps, Cass,' she thought to herself while leaning against a crumbled stone pillar. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to share with him. She didn't care if it was wrong or right for her to harbor these feelings for him, she only knew that they were just... *there*.

Sighing to herself, she wondered if it was a futile effort. She had never been good with men, *ever*. Not with Shal, not with Tron, not with Rex, and especially not with Cassius. She always seemed to barge in at the exact *wrong* moment.

She shook her head, trying to clear the jumble of thoughts rolling through. Setting the rifle to the side, she sat down next to Cassius, careful not to get too close to him.

"Strip of Latinum, for your thoughts?" she proffered, trying to sound neutral, but friendly.

"Probably not worth that much right now," Cass laughed, glancing over at her. She was beautiful, to be sure. Beautiful and broken. "I was just thinking how beautiful it is here. So many worlds, so little time. No wonder men aspire to conquer the galaxy."

"Conquer?" her voice grew cold as a grim scowl crossed her face. She thought back to her childhood, having it *conquered' from her when the wretched Greenbloods came. They had come and *conquered* everything: the land, the skies, the planet, her family... her innocence.

Tish looked away from Cassius, for fear of breaking down again in front of him. Instead, she focused her gaze on the sun, now so low on the horizon that the last, deepest, reddest rays were filtering over the gently blowing sand.

She hadn't realized how fast the sunset was. 'Is it really that fast? Or am I imagining it?' she thought. Like her life, the things that were supposed to be cherished, to be held onto for a long time, were gone so quickly.

Tish cast her eyes and antennas down, turning her face back toward Cassius as the deep rays of the sun played of her beautiful indigo skin. She seemed to think about something... pausing, working it over in her mind, her lip curling under her blue-white teeth as her antennas rythmically bobbed in concentration.

"So..." Cass said awkwardly. So he wasn't a great conversationalist when it came down to women who he had a (needlessly) complicated relationship with. If she wanted, she could sue him. "What's beneath the antennas tonight?"

Tish did something she hadn't done for a long time: she actually smiled. It was just the way that he said it, so casual, like they were old friend unwinding after a long day, and not on some Thuuvan-forsaken sandheap.

Glancing up, she stopped the bobbing, instead pointing both antennas directly at him. Her yellow pupils set, scanning his face as if she could discern his intentions--his thoughts--by merely gazing at him. But, a Betazoid, she was definitely not.

"What are you afraid of, Cassius?" she asked simply. Yet the tone of her voice conveyed a deeper sense; a sense of... *fear*, almost.

"Death, in a sense," he replied, pursing his lips in thought. It wasn't a subject he liked to talk about. "Not my own. I got used to mortality a long time ago. I guess what I'm saying is... I don't want you to die. Or Ekoma, or Rima, or Corran, or Chase, or any of the other people that I care about."

"If you look back in my life, people die all around me, and somehow I endure," Cass shook his head, glancing again at the rays of the setting sun. They were all out there still, he hoped, but not as they were. "Celias sh'Veltathin died during the infiltration mission on Braggan VI. Simone Ovrali died at Breen. Aleks Leontiev died under my care at Dalson Center...

"It's incredible. Some how I just keep walking in between the phaser beams. And I don't need to tell you that not everyone else does. I mean... how many more friends are we going to have to bury, Tish?"

She blinked her eyes twice, in amazement. This was the first time that he had shared this with her: it seemed that he had seen as much death and loss as she had, as well.

'I don't want you to die.' It rang in her head. He was protective of her, true. But, she realized, it was more like an older brother looking out for a kid sister than what she *wanted* it to be: something deeper, something like what she felt for him.

"I've buried enough, Cassius," she said, almost too quickly as she turned her gaze to the sun again, or what was left of it. It was so far down on the horizon that the black of night was creeping in, far overhead.

Counting off on her fingers, "My mother and father on Seltax, my sister--Sheviis, my first lifemate--Tron, and my caretaker--Korman." she shuddered at the mention of Korman Blackar, the awful memories of the Rel'Kessan mission resurfacing. Quickly, she pushed them back down again, before they could affect her.

Cass winced at the mention of Blackar. To her, he meant something. But to Cassius, the man had been another in a long line of traitors that had been dealt with accordingly. He frowned, he could be a hard man sometimes.

"Ghosts of the past," he nodded. He knew how those went. There still wasn't a week that went by without a stray thought returning to Simone Ovrali. What-If? scenarios could be a bitch. "Tron was your {ch'te}, right?"

Tish nodded, her antennas drooping as the blood-red fading light caught a singular tear tracing down her cheek. "Yes, he and I survived Seltax together; he had always been there for me, for the longest time. We were promised, but he was... *killed* before we could consummate the {Shelthreth}," she explained, her voice fading to a bare whisper.

"Then we understand," he nodded again. Simone. Tron. What difference did it make. In their line of work, the people you love most are the ones you become a danger to.

He returned her question: "What do you fear?"

"I fear... I dunno Cassius. I fear everything, and nothing, all at once. That when I wake up from all of this," she indicated with a sweeping motion of her right antenna, "That all I'm going to find is an empty shell."

"I wish I could say that I understand," he replied. He could feel the emotion by association, but the details held little significance besides a few passing things that Celias had said once.

'I wish you could, too, Cassius,' she thought to herself. Drawing up her reserve of courage, she gently slid her slender, long hand over his, while looking into his eyes again. She watched as the light from the stars refelected in his deep brown eyes; the way he looked at her.

She slid closer to him, her hip brushing against his leg. "Cass, do you think that we could ever..."

*THUMP!!!*

"AYEEEEAAAAAIIIII!!!"

"What in the name of Thori?!" Tish was instantly up, snatching the M90 from its resting place beside her, while simultaneosly yanking Cassius to his feet. A moment later she was running toward the temple gallery, checking readings on her TEDD while tapping her commbadge.

"Johnson?! Salazaar?! Markinson?! REPORT!"

"The Deep Dark, Part III"

Cdr. Cassius Henderson - USS Galaxy XO (Frank B.)
1Lt. T'Shani a'Akledorian - SFMC Furies' CO (Matt M.)
Msr. Sgt. Carl Johnson - SFMC Furies' Cmd. NCO (APC: Matt M.)
Sgt. Louise Markinson - SFMC Furies' Crypto Tech (APC: Frank B.)
Pvt. Elizabeth Salazaar - SFMC Furies' Medic (NPC)
G'Iv K'Vos'Toj - IHV Hammer of Progress Imperial Guard (SPC: Matt M.)

== Mirusa VI: Archeological Digsite ==

"Where the hell are they?!" Cass shouted, springing up and chasing after her. They couldn't have gotten very far, and the noise had sounded like it had come from the room they'd been sitting outside of. "Tish?"

"Over here," she whispered furiously from several meters inside the main arcade of the gallery. "Look," she pointed down into the central courtyard, to indicate what had caught her attention, and caused her to lower her voice.

Cass ran after her, through the main temple, where the statue of the Nerru'vir'im was conspicuously missing. Dashing past the pedastal, he used the railing to check his forward motion, peering down into the courtyard below, where Markinson, Johnson, and Salazaar had apparently been *chased*.

They looked on as the statue of Nerru'vir'im loped across the courtyard, chasing Johnson, who simply dissappeared as a blinding light shot from the faceless mask of the alien caryatid. Markinson seemed to shudder at the sight, and she barely had time to raise her rife before she too faded away. Cass' breath caught in his throat. What weapon was this? Some kind of high end phaser that had simply ended the existence of his entire team? "Tish, did you get a good scan of that beam?"

"Workin' on it," she whispered rapidly, trying to keep her own fear from flourishing in her voice. Her left eye quickly scanned the E.U.D. (Eyes-Up-Display) of her TEDD and tricorder, trying to make sense of it.

She crouched down as some rubble and dust fell down on them when the monstrosity below started thumping around again. "I can't get a reading on it, Cass. It's like it's not even there."

Curiouser and curiouser, he throught. "Have you tried scanning for non weapons signatures? Like say... a transporter beam or a repulsor beam?" Cass asked, spitting out the first things that came to his head.

Tish adjusted her scanner's input search parameters and watched as a new energy graph lit up on the display. "It's some sort of *transporter*, Cass... but not like anything we've got..."

*SCREEEEEEERRRCH!*

*CRASH!*

Tish was loudly interrupted as a bolt of *whatever* energy it was streaked all around them, causing the stone floor under their feet to seemingly dissolve away. "Cass!" She yelled, a twinge of fright entering her voice as they landed roughly at the feet of the stonic demon.

Cass reached out reflexively to grab T'Shani's shoulder, as his entire world seemed to go transparent for a moment. It was a transporter, sure... but not like any he had ever felt. Standing back up, he numbly offered a hand to T'Shani. The reality of their situation hadn't truly dawned on him. Maybe he'd hit his head?

"Cass? Cass?!!" T'Shani's calls became frantic, pleading, as she felt the powerful ray penetrate her, and with a numbing sensation, make both her and Cassius turn virtually transparent.

"Cassius?! What's happening?" she asked, trying to say more, but finding that she couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't think. She was being paralyzed, like a fly fallen victim to a spider's venom.

As the world faded from her view, she managed a final glimpse at the horrid beast, and heard very clearly, {Ir'tik'lik fovakna shur Nerru'vi}. Then, the deep dark claimed her already frozen mind.

The "statue" turned around, it's glowing, featureless face shining in the black darkness of the night. Returning to it's pedestal, and squatting on its legs again, it bowed its head and pointed its arms heavenward once more.

== Deep Underground, Mirusa VI ==

Cass awakened first, lying on the sandy stone floor. Shaking the cobwebs from his mind, he was immediately seized with the need to find out what had happened to T'Shani. Finding out where he was could wait until he was sure of her safety.

Sitting bolt upright, he forced his eyes open, though he was swiftly assailed by a splitting headache, brought on by the sudden movement. For a moment, he paused, then tried to move again, slowly.

He glanced around, scanning the room until he caught sight of her, lying crumpled on the floor a few feet away. She was facedown, and a nasty gash along her forehead had left her purple blood trickling down that smooth forehead.

It looked like she had probably suffered a head injury in the fall before they were transported away. Though he knew her to be the vulnerable woman that she hid behind her outwardly confident presense, that fact was now plainer than ever, and he feared for her. Gently touching her shoulder, he rolled her over.

As he lowered her head to rest on the floor, her eyes fluttered open, their gazes locked. Suddenly, they both drew in a gasp of air as they were instantly and completely filled with the entirity of each other's presence!

"Test 1: The Room of Stars."

By Lieutenant Commander James Lionel Corgan
And G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur, Hydran Command

Location: Temple Ruins Zone, Mirusa VI

A moment before, James was juggling the difficult tasks of keeping focused on a search effort, listening to the pleas of a Starfleet Marine for said focus, recalibrating a tricorder, fending off the verbal barbs of his Hydran counterpart, keeping a watchful eye on every person then adding the task of looking for a missing crewmember, fretting over the well being of his girlfriend on the spiralling mission and watching his own back for potential knives... all while trying to communicate in vain to his ship to pretty please beam him out of all this chaotic mess.

Odd how all those worries can just disappear...

When you yourself are taken away.

At first it didn't feel as if James Corgan was swept up by an unknown alien sentience and plopped into another sector of the temple complex. For the most part, it just felt like the last piece of real estate they traversed... tons of sandstone walls depicting alien stories in a strange, flowing, snakelike language that was yet translated, all surrounding the depictions of alien idols that may or may not be Hydran in origin. It was, at first, hard to catch the fact that he was transported elsewhere. No odd feeling of having your atoms scattered and recombined, no wavy shifts or dimensional portals. It was a perfectly flawless transition, one that Federation transporter developers and scientists would give any one of their left appendages to perfect.

The dead giveaway for this mystery was what James didn't see, and it was the sight of the rest of his away team.

"What the hell?" James uttered, dropping his tricorder in a clatter. Nobody else but him. No Mika, the now love of his life, a noticeable turquoise paramour in a sea of pinkskins. No Private Yhwalyan, the pushy but most cool customer of his group. Not the intelligence officer Dobyrin, the Naussican meat shield G'Bat'ea, or even the vexing and irritating Z'Jgk'Thur.

Corgan was all alone, in as a reaction, he removed the tint of his sunglasses.

"Sh*t." He uttered, "Now I'm one of the missing."

He tried, once again, his communicator. Completely dead, not even a chirrup as if to complain, 'Stop hitting me! I can't reach a goddamn thing!'. His tricorder, now procured from the ground, was also dead as if in a bear's slumber.

His Starfleet survival training, as extensive and thorough as it was, couldn't help much in such an environment. There was no visible water as of yet, and from the dust he could tell there would be none unless a biblical flood opened and washed him away. There was no breeze from the surface, as far as he could tell, no light but that of his wristlights therefore no sun would come to his aide, no way of determining his locations.

This was a tunnel he could very well die in. The only suggestion in the Federation handbook was to either wait it out for as long as he could... or wander around aimlessly until he found a clue.

Rather than rest, James decided to move on.

It was, after all, a search party, and he had the distinction of being both a searcher and one of the missing.

He took one step forward, and his tricorder decided to reactivate itself. The display screens on the PDA-like unit crackled into view, conveniently back to his original scan lifeforms setting. The screen showed a rough, angular maze to a detail James had not seen yet, while an arrow indicator pointed like a bloodhound to a red dot on the far corner, pinging as if to bay to its master a caught scent.

"Well..." James breathed a sigh of relief, "About time I had some positive results." He then asked the tricorder for more details on the lifeform readings. It was one positive match, and it was Hydran... a very large Hydran life sign. Caught up in the excitement, James raced towards the lifesign, halting only to shine his light around the halls to look for unexpected obstacles and traps.

The tricorder drew him to a large amphitheatre, awe inspiring in its size alone, in which James was at a balcony on one end, overlooking it all. Lit by starlight... if one could call the glittering lights high up above to be actual stars, the field itself was rectangular like a Terran football field whose surface was flat and sandstone hewn. Pillars supported the star speckled roof, each as thick as the Galaxy's warp core and almost just as long. Steps tapered down to the 'arena' floor as simple steps that could accommodate a human like himself comfortably, but reached into heights reserved for stadiums back on Mother Terra. Everywhere was the glyphs, idols, and scenes of an ancient past on the walls, the steps, the seats and the balconies. Unlike the idols and hieroglyphs that James encountered before, the ones in this theatre were spared the ravages of centuries. They were all painted with fresh motifs of the Hydranlike idols and bipedals that worshipped and ruled at the s ame time, as if the temple was newly erected and unveiled for the first time to its long dead civilization.

This was a sight that could stir the jaded and travel weary James, a moment for a Starfleet recruitment brochure indeed! ~"Breathtakingly beautiful."~ James sighed, taking in the vast sight.

From the other end of the arena, in a balcony similar to his own, James spotted his Hydran counterpart. "Z'Jgk'Thur!" James yelled out to the Hydran officer, waving, "Hey! How did you get here?"

Z'Jgk'Thur boomed right back, "I do not know! I was lead here by my sensory device!"

James answered back, "What a coincidence... my tricorder read a Hydran lifesign... must have been you."

"And mine read human... we were meant to meet here."

"My thoughts exactly." James looked at his surroundings, "Looks like a theatre. A sports complex maybe..." James paused to look at the motifs once again, "...judging by the pictures of hunting..." James looked closer, feeling more sick as more pieces revealed themselves... "...struggle... teams..." James then stopped as he saw more motifs involving fighting... "...team games. Yes! It's a sports arena!"

~"Oh god... it's a gladiator arena! SH*T!"~ James thought with dread, looking at his Hydran counterpart leer and crack his knuckles, ~"And I think he knows it too!"~

"Hmmmm..." Z'Jgk'Thur crossed all three arms together, his corded muscles flaring, "I may enjoy their... sport."

"HALT!" Hollered a disembodied voice from the starlit canopy over their heads.

Z'Jgk'Thur looked up to the stars for answers, but found none. James stood still, watching warily the Hydran while keeping one eye to the sky, but not much else. Z'Jgk'Thur's eyestalk wandered, confused.

"WE ARE NOT IN YOUR PRESENCE... BUT WE ARE WITH YOU, DEAR CONTESTANTS!" Boomed again the disembodied voice.

James yelled, "Who are you?! And why did you take us here!"

"They called us contestants you idiot! What else would we be taken here for?" Z'Jgk'Thur shot back.

"No sh*t, lizard!" James blew up, "Maybe if you stopped trying to point out my flaws and ask for more details from our captors maybe you'll GET SOME ANSWERS!"

"Why you arrogant prig!"

"Bring it on, fatass!"

"SILENCE!" The disembodied voice, strong and manly as it was awe inspiring, came to separate the two from squabbling better than a wall, "YOU TWO ARE TRULY HERE FOR A TEST OF WILLS AND STRENGTH, FOR THIS IS OUR PROVING GROUND, AND YOU TWO ARE HERE TO PROVE YOURSELVES."

"Told you so, Human." Z'Jgk'Thur grumbled.

"Shut up. I've had it up to here with you and your snide comments." Corgan retorted.

"SILENCE, HYDRAN!" This time, a female voice with the commanding tone of an Amazon in warspeech, "YOU CANNOT ASSUME ALL THAT WE SET OUT FOR YOU! BE QUIET AND LISTEN, FOR WE ARE TO TELL YOU THE RULES OF THE GAME!"

"BUT FIRST... YOUR PRIZE... YOUR DESIRE... THIS YOU MUST EXPRESS...." The male added.

"SO THAT YOU MAY BE MOST MOTIVATED!" The female finished.

"Oh?" Corgan hummed. A contest, its seriousness yet highlighted, "Well... truth be told, I'd rather find our missing crew, the scientists, and the Hydrans that were lost in these tunnels and head back home, because frankly... I don't want to be here."

"UNACCEPTABLE!" The female voice snarled, "YOU WILL PICK A PRIZE THAT IS WITHIN OUR POWERS AND WITHIN THE DOMAIN OF THIS PLANET! THE OTHERS ARE UNDERGOING THEIR OWN TRIALS AT THE WHIMS OF OUR PEOPLES, THEREFORE YOU CANNOT ASK FOR THEIR ESCAPE. IT IS FOR THEM TO EARN."

"Ok..." James hummed, "Then I want to get out of here and back to my ship."

"YOU WILL LEAVE IF AND WHEN YOU PASS OUR TRIALS! PICK ANOTHER PRIZE."

"Then I want... nothing."

James statement gave the two voices pause. "NOTHING?"

"Nothing, but to complete my mission." James stated, "I want to complete my mission, with all the scientists and missing officers returned to their respective ships. But you won't do that... won't you?"

"NO... WE WON'T. THEIR EVENTUAL RELEASE IS UP TO THEM!" The male voice cracked like thunder.

"WHILE YOUR RELEASE IS UP TO YOU!" The female joined in.

"I beseech thee, mighty gods!" G'Iv Z'Jgk'Thur screamed to the heavens for attention, "What boons can you grant us?!"

"HMMM... FACINATING!" The male voice observed.

"YES! WHILE THE HUMAN REMAINS SKEPTICAL... THE HYDRAN FULLY ACCEPTED THAT WHICH IS PRESENTED TO HIM!"

"WHAT ARE WE TO MAKE OF THIS?"

"SPIRITUALITY AND SKEPTICISM BOTH HAVE THEIR PLACES... TOO MUCH OF ONE OR THE OTHER MAKES ONE UNBALANCED AND LOST!"

"Dear Gods! What can you grant us?!" The G'Iv insisted.

"HALT, DEAR HYDRAN. YOUR CURIOUSITY AND YOUR GREED FOR THIS PRIZE FUEL YOUR ENTHUSIASM TO IRRITATING HEIGHTS, MORESO THAN THE HUMAN'S LACK OF PASSION FOR STRUGGLE! WHAT WE CAN GIVE YOU WITHIN OUR POWERS... ARE VAST IN SIZE BUT LIMITED IN SCOPE!"

The female voice then said, "WE CAN GIVE YOU WEALTH BEYOND YOUR STATION, CASTE AND RANK, OR WE CAN GIVE YOU THE SECRETS OF GREAT LEADERS OF THIS PLANET, BUT WE CANNOT CHANGE YOUR RANK, CASTE AND STATION OURSELVES, FOR THAT IS BEYOND OUR PLANET!"

The male continued, "WE CAN GIVE YOU KNOWLEDGE, GREAT KNOWLEDGE OF THE UNIVERSE, UNIVERSAL TRUTHS OF SENTIENTS, STARS AND SCIENCE THAT WOULD ADVANCE YOUR CIVILIZATIONS ONCE DECIPHERED, BUT WE CANNOT GIVE YOU SPECIFIC KNOWLEDGE OF OUTSIDERS... ONLY WHAT WE HAVE KNOWN, RESEARCHED AND LEARNED!"

The female finished, "WE CAN CHANGE YOUR CORE ESSENCE, YOUR GENETICS, YOUR PERSONALITY TO THAT WHICH YOU HOLD AS PERFECT! CHARISMA, LOOKS, STAMINA, STRENGTH! WE CAN IMPROVE THEM ALL! MAKE YOU AN IMPRESSIVE PARAGON OF YOUR SPECIES, BE IT IN MIND, BODY AND SOUL!"

"BUT WE SAY WE ARE LIMITED IN SCOPE! IF YOU WANT TO BE A BETTER SPECIMEN, CHOOSE ONE BUT NOT ALL TRAITS YOU WANT IMPROVED! IF YOU WANT TO FURTHER THE KNOWLEDGE OF YOUR KIND, CHOOSE A FIELD AND LEAVE THE OTHERS BE! IF YOU WANT WEALTH... LATINUM, RARE METALS, STARMATTER... CHOOSE ONE BUT NOT ALL!"

"Yes!" Screamed out the Hydran officer, "You Gods are great and worthy, most worthy! You offer your blessings to me, a great warrior of the Imperial Hydran Navy, and I shall pick! I forever am caught between orders! I have great skill but no influence! The best of life is out of my reach! No desirable mates! No wealth! No name worthy of honour! Give me the wealth to change all this! Make me a rich man, so that I may prove to the others that I deserve a spot among the elite. Please bless me with latinum!"

"SO IT SHALL BE... BUT YOU MUST EARN IT FIRST." The female beckoned. "COME, Z'JGK'THUR OF THE HYDRAN CITY OF H'KOPEZ! TO THE CENTRE OF THE ARENA!"

"AS FOR THE SPACEBOURNE TERRAN, WHOSE FOOT KNOWS NO HOMELAND BUT THAT OF A SHIP'S DECK PLATING!" The male voice boomed accusingly, a judgement from heaven, "PICK A PRIZE! YOU DESIRE NOT, LACK AMBITION, BUT PICK YOU SHALL!"

"HEY!" Corgan yelled back at the 'god' in the ceiling, "I have plenty of ambition, thank you very f**king much!"

The two 'gods' gave out a shocked gasp.

"YOU SPEAK IN BLASPHEMOUS TONGUE TO US?!" The female snarled.

"I sure as f**k do!" Corgan hollered back, "I don't want you stinking prizes, and not because I lack the balls to come over here and take it, it is because I can get what I want myself without having to cheat with a boon from a higher order sentient! I can get wealth, but it means nothing to my civilization anymore since we all live in comfort and have the right to choose to suffer for duty and choice's sake, just as I have! Therefore I don't choose wealth! I desire to better myself, but I will not allow you to change who or what I am! I will not cheat! If I want muscle, or good looks, I'll work on that myself! And if I want knowledge as a whole, I'll read, I'll research, I'll seek for myself because I'm human, and we humans would rather search and earn our knowledge for ourselves, otherwise we do not learn enough from it or respect it as it should be."

"BUT..." The disembodied male voice said, "YOU WILL EARN WHAT WE GIVE YOU THROUGH THESE CONTESTS! THEY WILL NOT BE EASY!"

"You offer a prize." James Corgan wagged his finger, "A prize is a dream for a fool who wants to take shortcuts. I'd like the easy way to earn something too... but I don't feel right about it. No instant promises, no quick results. If this is the only way to get back to my life, then I will do so, but I don't want anything from you but the chance to get out."

"OH? AND WHAT OF YOUR PEOPLE, JAMES CORGAN?!" The female voice asked, "THEY DESIRE KNOWLEDGE! DO YOU DESIRE KNOWLEDGE?!"

Corgan paused, then answered, "I'm not a scholar."

"BUT YOUR PEOPLE ARE SCHOLARS."

"True, but I am not." Corgan spoke, a passionate and rumbling sensation in his soul like a shifting shadow stirring in his stomach, in a voice so melancholy it was to dredge all his dark times into a condensed sentence, "I was a musician once... and I wanted to be an engineer. By circumstance I became a security officer. I've traded the pursuit of knowledge and art for my current job. I protect, serve... even kill. I did it at first to quell my anger at the circumstances that led me to be a killer, but now I do it for two reasons. One is to travel the stars, my home. The other is so that others don't have to do my job and stain their hands with other's blood. I sacrifice my interests so that civilians can pursue theirs while keeping conscience and soul clean... that alone makes my task rewarding. I would not feel right about taking something that would make my gruesome job easier. So if you want to give something, give it to the people who's freedoms I protect. I'll let the m do with it as they will."

"AND WHAT WOULD THAT PRIZE BE?"

James smirked, "The Federation scientists wanted to learn the secrets of these ruins. Let them have it."

The gods pondered James request momentarily. The female then spoke up, "WE CANNOT REVEAL ALL OUR SECRETS, BUT WE CAN GIVE YOU WHAT IS WRITTEN ON THE WALLS!"

"Sounds reasonable." James shrugged.

"THEN IT SHALL BE!" The male voice boomed, "FOR THE HYDRAN, YOU SHALL EARN THE WEALTH YOU CRAVE, SO THAT YOU MAY RISE UP IN STATION AND TAKE WHAT HE DESIRES! A SELFISH, BUT MOTIVATING FACTOR NONETHELESS!"

"AND THE HUMAN!" The female cracked, "SHALL HAVE THE SECRETS OF THE WALLS. A SELFLESS ACT, BUT NOT ENOUGH TO STIR HIM TO GREAT DEEDS!"

"THEIR FREEDOM SHALL COME IF DEATH DOES NOT CLAIM THEM, OR IF THEY DO NOT STRAY FROM THE RULES OF OUR TEST."

"THE SAME AS THE PEOPLE THEY SEEK TO RESCUE."

"THEN IT IS DECIDED... THE SECOND TEST... IS... NOW!"

"Waitaminute..." James stuttered, "Death?"

"Nowhere to Run, Nowhere to Hide"

Lieutenant J.G. Saul Bental

Perhaps he was engulfed in darkness for mere seconds, perhaps for entire days. Saul will never know. The Galaxy's chronometer might provide an answer, sure, but when each and every one of your senses cease to function, when there is nothing, time flows differently.

And so are thoughts.

As Saul crossed the threshold, the dim light in the hall blinded his eyes as though it was a Laser beam aimed directly at his pupils. He raised his hand to cover his watering eyes, looking away from the light source.

And then, he heard a step. Three of them.

He forced his eyes open. A figure formed ahead of him, formless at first, but soon he could identify some distinguishing features. It was slightly far, perhaps twenty meters away, and yet even from that distance Saul was quite sure that it was taller and wider than him.

And it had three arms.

And three legs.

And three eyestalks that was looking back at him.

And a nasty-looking disruptor which spat a blue beam at him. Luckily for Saul, that beam missed him by mere centimeters, peeling a layer of the marble-like wall behind him. Saul rolled to his left, ducking behind a fallen pillar, and in one continuous movement detached the Phaser from his backpack.

Both he and the Hydran, female by her looks and size, were now well covered. There was time to watch, and think.

The room was elliptical, the ceiling as high as the mural room's. There were wall painting on the ceiling, and some cryptic hyroglyphs. There was even a painting of the room itself, with two faceless Hydranoids standing in the middle of it, wrestling each other. There were two exists, both in the real room and the pained room. In the painting, each Hydranoid's head was directed at the opposite exit.

"Human, I'm coming out.", The Hydran's voice boomed, "And my weapon is lowered. All I want is to go through the door through which you came."

"No problems.", Saul said, slowly rising, weapon still ready. "I'm… Lieutenant Cameron Bartlet of the Federation Starship Galaxy.", He added, throwing in the name of one of the ship's Operation officers. If he'll end up in captivity, he rather the enemy think that he's in OPS and not Intel.

The Hydran didn't identify herself. She just paced briskly, in the way that seemed so odd to bipedals.

Saul came completely out of cover when he finally made the connection between the painting and what the Hydran was trying to do.

"If you pass through my exit I lose, don't I??", He stated, standing in her way.

Yes, that made perfect sense. If each Hydranoid in the painting was struggling to go through the opposite exist, then this must be some sort of test of contest. And Saul wasn't interested in seeing what happens to the loser.

The Hydran snarled. "I'm going through that door whether you agree to it or not."

With that, she charged at him.

'We're going to be at way with them anyway.", Saul thought as he raised his phaser, aimed at the Hydran, and squeezed the trigger.

The phaser's barrel shuddered and recoiled, and the beam hit the Hydran's chest, stopping her charge.

Saul glanced at the power meter. The beam was set to maximum. It was supposed to disintegrate the Hydran to molecules.

Taking your eyes off the opponent while in a fight is a bad trait; A second later, a disruptor's beam hit Saul's head. He fell on the marble floor, dazed, but not dead.

"We are going to solve this old fashionedly.", The Hydran proclaimed. For a moment, Saul could swear that he was facing one of the Furies rather than an alien. If Hydrans could smirk, she was doing it right now.

He stood up, the Hydran towering above him. She took a step forward, her arms in some sort of bizarre tri-pedal starting position.

Saul knew he didn't had the slightest chance in hand to hand combat. He dodged those whenever possible, ever since he was a street kid in Utrecht III. Outsmarting a bully or a petty thief is always better than overpowering him.

But was there an option now?

"This doesn't have to end… 'Old fashionedly'. Saul told her, bringing himself to a fighting position, in order not to look weak. "Do you want the war to break out, right here, right now? Before you get the chance to find your men and bring them to safety?"

"The were will come, two-arms, worry not.", The Hydran shot back. Nonetheless, she didn't advance.

"I have a suggestion.", Saul began. He interpreted her silence as a license to continue. "What if each of us just turn back and leave through the door behind him, instead of the opposite door."

"Any who does that WILL die.". The Hydran could probably read the hyroglyphs, since the language's basics were resembled one of the ancient Hydran dialects – not enough to suggest that it was a splinter Hydran colony, but enough for the Hydran linguistic specialist to translate it faster than their Human colleagues.

"No, that's what they're telling YOU. Or perhaps it's 'lose'. Or 'sleep'. You don't know. Now, I'm willing to be the first and go back to the room I came from, but I don't think it's leading anywhere – it's completely dark, and I was unable to find any exits."

"You do that.", The Hydran uttered.

Saul turned around. The dark door loomed behind him. He didn't want to go back there. Also, it might mean his death.

But what other choice was there? To be beaten to death by something twice as strong as you were?

"Stop!", suddenly the Hydran shouted. "I see what you're trying to do, Lieutenant Bartlet. You are so confident, you must think that whoever remains last in this chamber will die."

"I have no intention of dying today.", Saul indicated the truth, noncommittally.

"I say that I leave first, through MY door. You wait right here."

With that, the Hydran turned around, and covered the distance to the far wall in several gigantic steps. He vanished through the door through which he came.

Saul shrugged his shoulders. He was still alive.

"And that's EXACTLY what I hoped you said.", He told to no one in particular, and the infamous Saulish grin finally emerged on his face. He grabbed the backpack, and followed the Hydran through the far door.

When he passed through the door, he found himself in a narrow cave. The Hydran was nowhere to be seen.

Saul murmured a short pray in Hebrew. He didn't pray for over ten years, but now was as good time as any to thank the lord for a bundle of luck no Intelligence Officer was worthy of.

Once again the tricorder was in his hand; Once again its flashlight lit the darkened path; Once again, Saul Bental was striding forward, into the unknown.

"One Choice; One Chance"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineer
Lt. (jg) Saul Bental, Intelligence/Lily Squad
2nd. Lieutenant Branwen London

Nara unscrunched her face. The light had died away. She slowly opened one eye and found herself in a different room. If there were walls, she couldn't tell. There were too many curtains randomly hung about. She looked around, "Saul? 8-Ball?"

One moment Branwen was holding a flashlight, and the next moment everything went dark. Those blasted caves. She cursed quietly. "Is everybody okay?" She whispered.

Nara heard something. It was faint, but it wasn't Saul. It did sound famailar and female. "8-Ball?" Nara moved some curtains aside and looked.

The sudden light hit her and Branwen closed her eyes. "Nara?" She said then,

"What are you doing in the caves?"

"Caves?" Nara blinked back. That wasn't 8-Ball. "Bran?" She looked around again, "Saul? 8-Ball?" She looked back at Branwen, "That freakin ship has a bad luck charm. As soon as I find it..." She mumbled as she walked around moving curtains around. Her voice became coherent again after a moment, "Keep getting thrown around in un-realities. As if reality wasn't complicated enough." After Cernu embedded the training in her, telepathy had become just another sense. Had she let it. She always was aware of the decision to use it. Now, it was just instinct to scan the room and telepathically call out.

"Oh no." Branwen said. "We are not back in the dreamworld, are we?"

Nara shook her head as she looked around, "I doubt it. This likely has more to do with the temples."

* * *

Saul lay on his back, petrified and breathless. The chill of the cave's slippery, damp floor penetrated his uniform.

He survived.

The Hydran was nowhere to be seen.

Saul wondered for a moment if he was dead. Or whether he actually exists. Perhaps, this was a complex hologram. Or maybe, the Hydran was beamed to

another location.

Or maybe the bastard was simply dead. Like many Hydrans that were killed by the Galaxy's crew during Havras, and rightfully so. Saul himself used the ship's aft cannons to erradicate an entire T'Kith'Kin vessel. The crew must've been twenty, thirty 'vermins'... what's the difference between 30 kills and 31?

As he slowly brought himself to anupright posture, the intense inner struggle in the darkness struck him with full power. He closed his eyes,

inhaled deeply as he absorped the inner pain. Was something trying to mess with his mind? Forcing him to confront what he didn't intend to face? Trying to prod him toward a decision he didn't want to make?

Why would anyone care?

He smiled wearily, glad that Nara wasn't near and Branwen wasprobably on an entirely different part of the ruins. Well, all he needs to do now is to

locate Langferd and the other scientists, find out what's the story beyond those ruins, receieve the Golden Starbucks medal or something, and get this over with.

Suddenlly, he heard voices coming down the tunnel to his left. He activated the flashlight that was built into his tricorder, and slowly began to make his way toward the voices. It wasn't long before he recognized both of them;

They were the voices of the two women he foolishly fell in love with.

* * *

Nara turned. She had sensed Saul awhile ago. She tried to ignore the emotions, as she promised him she wouldn't read his mind. But what she couldn't help but sense didn't surprise her. Confusion. It was hard NOT to be confused here.

Pinpointing him was another deal. She guessed he was sleeping. Or even he didn't know where he was. She mindspoke to him, ~Saul? Do you know where you are? I can't sense 8-Ball at all.~ And then she used her voice again, "Saul! 8-Ball!"

"Saul, he is with you." Branwen's heart fluttered. "He is not harmed?"

Nara shook her head, "He's close enough I can sense him, but I don't know exactly where."

Finally Branwen came fully to her senses. She had her phaser rifle out.

"We will search for them. Stay behind me, it might be dangerous here." She started forward.

Nara sighed and walked with Bran, "I can handle danger. I still need to tell you about the war on Sakaria." She winced. Stupid arrogance again, "We'll watch each other's back, though."

"Allright then." Bran said after a slight hesitation. But she took the lead.

Nara wasn't sure what to take of this, but she wasn't really worried about who the leader should be. "Ok, but I'll let you know if we move further away from him." She couldn't tell where he was, but she had gotten able to realize how far to some degree. It was like a game of Hot and Cold.

The two couldn't hear the rapid sound of shoes hitting the surface again and again as Saul rushed toward them. To his left, a wall was covered by

hyroglyphs. From what he read in Langferd's notes, he could understand a

little the context of the hiroglyphs, and that's what made him run despite the risk of slipping.

The hiroglyphs meant 'Danger'.

"Naranda! Branwen!"

Before Nara or Bran could answer, the ground shook and suddenly opened. After a few seconds, the ground grew calm again as Nara and Bran

were left few feet from the edge of the newly formed ravine. Saul was still left on the other side.

Before any of them could get used to this idea, a voice sounded. "One choice; one chance."

The voice seemed to form in Saul's mind. It wasn't Federation standard, but it also wasn't something else. He cursed in Dutch, not slowing down his pace.

Behind Nara and Bran, the ground was starting to grumble again, coming closer to them by the minute.

Near Saul, a console appeared. On the screen were the pictures of Nara and Bran and the words, "Choose one to transport to safety."

"You messed with the wrong officer!" He grunted between one groan to the

other. This place... this presence appearently didn't realize after his encounter with the Hydran, that this particular guy wasn't playing by the regular rules. He knew what was going to happen; If he saves one, the other will die, or worse - survive and feel very disappointed.

That's not going to happen.

Saul spat sideways and continued to run. He was going for the jackpot; He was going to try and save both.

Branwen saw the danger. She held on to the wall, steadying Nara. "You have got to try to jump, Nara, I will help." She shouted.

Nara took a deep breath and looked around. The ravine looked deep. It also looked wide. There was no way around it. She looked behind her and back to Bran, "I don't think we'll make the jump."

"No, both of us cannot make it. But if I help you, I think one person can." Branwen said. "We have to hurry though."

Nara looked at her increduolously, "Then YOU go!" She said it without thinking. She didn't want Bran to die when she could live. But what about Saia. "You go and make sure Saia stays safe." She looked at the Ravine again, "Besides, if one can make it, we both can. Or we both can't"

"The surface is very brittle. I am afraid it will not take the strain of two of us going. Certainly not at the same time, so I will help you over first and then I will try. Get ready, Saia needs you."

"There's a better chance if we try together!"

"I don't believe so, Nara." The marine said very seriously.

"Then you go first!" Nara thought quickly, "Look, no offense, but I'm the lighter of us two. It won't break down as quickly if I'm the last to go." Bran was taller, putting more mass on her. But it couldn't had been more than 20 something pounds more and Nara doubted it mattered to the crumbling ground, but she was grasping at anything."

"You have to go first because you are lighter. I might not succeed. Now go!" Branwen almost ordered.

Nara pursed her lips, "We go together or we don't go!" She could be just as stubborn.

As the girls argued, the knight in shining armor, or make that intel officer in dusty uniform, was running out of time before losing one or both of them. Or none of them--though that was almost impossible considering the circumstances.

"Damn you are stubborn, girl! I am trying to save your life, Nara. You have a kid and Saul loves you."

Then, the two of them saw Saul. His eyes were wide open, and a dusty cloud rose behind him. His mouth was gaped in a silent shout.

Nara saw Saul and was at a complete loss. She wanted to be the one to die just to get it over with. "Don't make me pull whatever rank or senority I have Bran." Nara wasn't sure she had that right, but she spoke softly yet firm.

Then, Saul was stopped suddenly, and was tossed to the floor with great strength.

"Force field!" He murmured as his nerves began to scream in pain. The girls were meters away, ahead and slightly down. He could see them both - they

were arguing, though he couldn't hear the argument. With the searing his

bruised back and arms, he couldn't concentrate enough to guess what the argument was about.

The console from before emerged next to him, out of nothingness.

"Naienn!", He barked at the console, pushing himself away from the floor. Again, the images of Nara and Bran emerged on both sides of the screen.

'This must be a test', He said inwardly. 'Whoever I choose, both will live. This is a bad joke.'

Then again, so was his encounter with the Hydran, and there was no guarantee

that he survived.

There has to be a creative solution here, there has to be a way to break the

rules. Whoever he ends up with, Saul wasn't just going to forfeit the life of the other!

Nara reached out to Saul telepathetically, ~Convince Bran to jump.~

"Saul!" Bran shouted. "Tell Nara to jump now!"

Nara looked at Bran, "Stop that!" She sighed and turned around, "Bran, there's no time for anyone to jump."

The crumbling was right on them. There was a split second for Saul to make a choice, or choose not to choose.

Branwen cursed. Damn Nara for not doing as she was told. Now it was too late.

Saul's eyes ran from one woman to the other, helpless like mice in a trap. The earth beneath them trembled, nearly sending Nara down onto the abyss. Only mere seconds left.

He raised his hand.

Both of them.

And landed them at the same time on the panel, his left hand contacting Nara's image whereas the right hitting Branwen's.

There was an audible rumble, but the rocks Nara and Bran stood upon stopped shaking.

"Saul began to step toward the gap. He took off his uniform shirt. "All right, we'll use this as a rope--"

All of the sudden, the mechanical voice boomed again, "ONE choice." Before Saul's eyes, both girls fell into the ravine.

"Two Caitians walk into a bar..."

Ensign Nieca Rey'ol, Tactical Officer

Ensign Le'on Khatowren, Security Officer

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

Ten Forward Lounge - USS Galaxy

When she walked into the lounge, Le'on was reminded somewhat of one of the damsels from the ancient 2D detective movies that his dad used to watch back on Earth. ~She walked in, one hip at a time...~ he distinctly heard Bogart monologue in the back of his mind as he sat (hell, who was he kidding? Stood...) on his barstool at bar and watched as Nieca Rey'ol sauntered in. He growled appreciatively at the shape of her body, the long ness of her legs, the color and texture of her fur... and so on and so forth...

He then took a swig of his White Russian and then brought himself back to reality. ~What the hell am I thinking?~ he thought disgustedly as he slammed his glass down onto the top of the bar. Many of the Caitians shunned him so just because of his diminutive size and wanted nothing to do with Le'on, not even his own family. Now, the way he viewed it, there was no way he could date anyone... unless some miracle occurred and he was somehow restored to his proper size. And even approaching such a fine specimen as Nieca? He had as much of a chance with her as a snowball's chance in hell.

Even so, it didn't hurt to admire the scenery.... did it?

Nieca ordered a snifter of brandy and began to savor and sip from it. With a flick of her tail she noticed the set of eyes staring at her from across the room.

"Your gaze will turn to glass..." Her words were part of an old Caitian expression.

"If I go blind today, at least I'll have your lovely vision of beauty imprinted in my mind..." he said, making up a line on the spot and holding his glass up in salute. He was quite shocked that she actually spoke to him. Maybe there was hope for the future after all...

She huffed and rolled her eyes "Please, save it... you sound like my ex-husband when you talk like that."

Well manicured finger gripped the glass once more as she took another sip.

"My name is Nieca..."

"Le'on" he replied. "Sorry for the line, but it was the only one I had at the moment." he admitted and took another sip. "So what brings you to this fine ship Nieca?" he asked, trying really hard not to purr.

She gestured for him to come and sit at her table "I just needed a change, things weren't falling into place for me on my last ship. Yourself?"

Le'on walked over and then jumped up onto the seat nearest her so that they could at least see each other around the table. "The Captain was the only one who'd take me." he said. "There weren't too many career opportunities in Starfleet for a two-foot tall Caitian." he took another drink out of the glass that most would consider a large thimble.

"Ah, so you really are a Caitian..." She lifted her drink "Why not go home? Or is your family's house unestablished?"

"I've been kicked out..." Le'on said disgustedly. "No female in their right mind would marry me, and no one would hire me for a civilian job." he said. "Cait's Council has pretty much written me off as dead and my family has disowned me." he took a big drink. " 'dishonored' was the word they used I believe. So it was to stay in Starfleet, where no Admiral, Captain or Commander would take me for ANY assignment."

"Surely there was some place for you to go..."

"I got lucky." he said. "I was in Moscow, on Terra, while on extended leave, trying to get any assignment I could. It was over a year before I was approached by Captain M'Kantu. And now, here I am, finally."

"Well I'm glad you've found a place to belong, us Caitians need a place to belong... a duty to up hold."

Le'on didn't say anything to that, just merely raised his glass in half-salute.

Nieca bowed her head for a moment, Caitian pride was often compared to that of Klingons. Le'on situation was a sobering thing.

She muttered a soft prayer for safe return to honor and virtue before taking a long drink from her glass.

"Cat in the Ducts" part 2

Ensign Le'on Khatowren, Security Officer

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

Deck 10 - Near Torpedo Control.

Le'on was battered and bruised by the time he got to Deck Ten after his wild maintenance duct bobsled/padd ride. There were a few places where he swore that he left his full body imprinted on the side of one of the ducts. He chuckled as he elongated his spine in order to get it to pop back into place. Someday an engineer's gonna wonder why there's a mold of a cat inside the ducts.

The PADD was a total loss from the breakneck ride down from the bridge. He really didn't care, he'd already memorized his instructions and knew what to do. Le'on went to the nearby panel and kicked his way out into the corridor. The panel shot outward and into the corridor and Le'on followed it, running full out on all fours like a grey blur.

Technicians on the deck were scrambling back and forth trying to effect repairs on various systems of the ship, not knowing that at any moment a torpedo was going to be accidentally launched. Such an event was going to effectively destroy both the Galaxy and the Hydran ship and that would put a serious dent into Le'on's long-term plans.

As Le'on sprinted down the length of the corridor down to where Torpedo Control was at, he heard shouts of alarm as people noticed him dart by. Once again he was hearing calls of a pet loose on in the corridors and heard the drumming of multiple footsteps as crewmen got up to chase him down. ~Stupid humans...~ he thought as he took a quick glance over his shoulder to see at least 3 human crewmen trying to chase him down. ~They see a small grey fluffy thing and they automatically assume that I'm some damn house pet...~

He rounded the corner of the corridor and darted in between the legs of some female, he couldn't identify the species but she gave out a loud shriek of fright as he zipped by. One of his pursuers made a dive for him and only succeeded in knocking the female head over heels. The other two deftly sidestepped and jumped over the mess of flailing limbs and continued in their pursuit. ~Almost there...~ Le'on thought as he entered the final strech. He ran on three paws as his fourth reached in his pocket for his baton. He figured he only had mere minutes to shut down the torpedo room and only a few seconds to open the damn door lest tweedle-dee and tweedle-dumbass behind him are gonna catch him. He placed the baton in his mouth to carry as he ran as fast his little legs could carry him.

The door to Torpedo Control was now in sight and he was a good ten meters ahead of the goons. He'd still need some time. He skidded to a halt and grabbed his little type-2 phaser from his belt and set it for a very low stun. He'd lost the Projector/Phaser Rifle when he jumped into the ducts on the bridge. Ah well... He turned and leveled his pahser. "I'm terribly sorry about this..." he said in his thick russian accent. As he fired two quick shots and tagged both crewmen in the chest.

The two went down in a heap and Le'on wasn't sure if they were looking shocked at being shot at, or the fact that a two-foot tall cat had a phaser to begin with. Le'on pocketed the mini-phaser and and extended his baton to punch in his access code. The doors slid open and he darted inside. He only had mere seconds now. The countdown accelerated a bit. Without giving too much thought to the crewmen inside the room, he ran straight out for the override button and launched himself at it. His aim was true and he landed right on it, startling the crewmen. Le'on punched the button and then wheeled on the crewmen with his phaser leveled. "Hold it right 'dere unless you want to lose something valuable, like the ability to walk!" he hissed. The crewmen wisely backed off and Le'on tapped his badge.

"Khatowren to Bridge." he said, panting a bit. "Torpedoes disarmed. Mission accomplished." he said before slumping down, exhausted.

"Condition Yellow" - Part V (Continuing the "Hot Rods" Story.)

By

Lieutenant Commander Brianna O'Shea, Chief Engineer/Sec(Trey),
Lieutenant Michael Jamson, Operations Officer(Bob),
Lieutenant Jiiles, Engineering Officer(Dru),
Ensign Marcus Slayton, Engineering Officer(Will),
Ensign Richard "Ringo" Langly, Engineering Officer(Martin),
Senator Ramir Omar, Romulan Ambassador(Jon)
And Chief Petty Officer, 3rd Class, Adam Kevinson (Trey)

::Holodeck IV::

"What in the name of.....???"

As Jiiles uncurled himself from his defensive position on the floor he took a look around. His jaw dropped. The damaged bridge, with its guts spilled out across the floor, the broken steaming pipes, flame encapsulated consoles bellowing smoke, the Borg ship suspended in increasing static across the view screen, his fellow comrades hanging in the air by a death grip from menacing cybernetic humanoids bent on assimilating everything in their hollowed eyed sights, had disappeared.

His colleagues now lay on the soft green moss covered grass that surrounded them... O'Shea's screams that lingered in Jiiles mind, had been replaced by the nonsensical chirping of birds.

Birds!?

One flew past Jiiles, its cry's echoing across the sublime landscape, its collaring reminded him of rainbows, red's blues and yellows. Just like a parrot. It soared upwards towards the clear crystal blue sky shadowing Jiiles just for a moment from the glorious sun. A lovely warm breeze carried a sweet intoxicating scent to his nostrils, and for a moment Jiiles felt hungry, his stomach gurgled and rumbled. Jiiles was amazed; amazed at the sight, amazed that he could feel something other than fear.

Hunger, he mused, or was he still in shock? He remembered the pain that had been throbbing through his skull from the earlier impact. But right now he felt nothing but a slight chill as the breeze flapped his sweat sodden uniform against his body.

"Just one more minute." Jiiles repeated his words from before slowly, gawping as he turned full circle in his new surroundings.

A slight laugh escaped his lips as he realized, "I changed the program.." Slowly his knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor. Falling backwards his entire body relaxed as it submerged into the soft moss, his fingertips curled around a blade of grass, and for a few minutes he smiled as he looked up into the deep blue sky, before his eyes closed and his smile waned.

"God..." Jamson found it difficult to get up. He was still dizzy and disoriented from the powerful hit he absorbed by both the Borg and the wall he was thrown onto. His vision started to clear, and yet he still wasn't aware if any damage was done. Ignoring a slight burn feeling in his left hand, Michael tried to get back on his feet when a sharp pain sent him back to the tender grass his was lying on. He was having a hard time breathing, so he tried to do so slowly. Checking his body for further injuries and the source of the pain, he bit his lips roughly for a couple of times when reaching his right ribcage. With a taste of metal in his mouth, which was clearly blood, the fearless fighter tried to resist the pain, but it was useless. The sensation of pain was overwhelming.

Anna woke with a slight cough though her eyes relayed nothing to her mind of where she was; or if in some strange sense of the world this was death. First thing she choked out of her mind was, "Report..." It wasn't with the same fierce confidence she had in the holodeck. Anna was sore, her body was hurting and she couldn't hardly breathe. The Irish woman's back was beat red from blows she had taken, now as she laid there mangled together with two other people, she slowly tried to move.

Like the rest, Richard slowly came to his sense. When he got up he reached for his head while letting out a long moan. "Remind me to never head bang again." He looked around and when he saw several strange looks he said, "Or wasn't it me this time?"

At first Jiiles didn't move. His eyes remained closed and his face expressionless. Little did he, or anyone else, know that he had suffered head trauma during their first collision with the Borg ship. The internal bleeding had caused his head aches but the shock, fear and sheer determination to survive had motivated him to push through the pain and continue to fight to survive and save himself and his fellow officers. But now. now that they were safe, now everything was calm, he could relax.

Unfortunately by relaxing his body no longer generated any pain relief to keep him conscious. Bolians have a much higher pain threshold than humans, they are generally a lot stronger than humans too, but their pain responses and defensive mechanisms are similar. Just like humans the flight or fight syndrome kicks in and enough adrenaline is produced to keep a human going until he or she is safe, once safe they tended to pass out!

And that's exactly what happened to Jiiles. Now that he was safe and there was no threat his body shut down the nonessentials, like eyes, mouth, speech, awareness, to concentrate on the important things, like repairing itself. Slipping into semi unconscious Jiiles eyes opened a fraction. He could hear the voices of his friends and colleagues in a dull thrum of background noise. None of them really sticking out from the other.

Crossing his vision a blurred shape appeared and hovered before him. It took Jiiles a while to realize that his blob was a person, and this person was talking to him.

Anna had moved over, crawly at first and then grabbed a fallen log and hoisted herself to stand. Moaning and taking a deep breath, her shoulder was hurting like it had been knocked out of socket and then snapped back in. "Jiiles, you okay?"

~I'm running a diagnostic on the inside of my eyelids right now. I'm too busy, call again in the morning..~ Jiiles replied, in his head. Well he thought he was talking out loud.

Moving over, she leaned over and checked his pulse. "He's a alive, must be in a Bolian healing thing." She said. "Jiiles.." She said, shaking him slightly.

~Not today thank you. Come again tomorrow, we will have tomatoes on sale! Three for the price of two...!~ Jiiles was in a world of his own as he was poked and prodded and coheres into waking up.

"Jiiles!" Anna snapped and pinched his face.

Jiiles batted the hand away, at least his body began to respond even if he didn't reply, at least he was alive and moving.

"Get up.." She told him.

Slowly Jiiles came too, enough to notice the pain had increased and that the wonderful garden thing he remember being in had got decidedly chillier.

Anna stood back up, Adam was moving, so was Ramir and Marcus.

"Where the hell...are we?" Jamson started to observe their surrounding.

"I don't know, Jiiles you and Adam try and figure out what program this is... see if we need to be aware of anything. Reminds me of the Wizard of Oz." Anna said, then looked over hearing Michael's painful exclamation.

"Ouch!" he cried out and shook like a leaf.

Moving over, she pulled the tricorder off Michael's waist. "Hold still! You're in shock..." Anna said and started scanning away "I think you have several broken ribs, and internal injuries. There's also a nasty cut in your left arm".

"You think???" Michael groaned and moaned like a wounded animal. He was coughing blood, twitching, and his face, turned pale.

"This is a modified engineering tricorder...we don't have any medical ones, remember? Besides, I'm an engineer, not a doctor! I'm doing my best. I guess the first aid courses we were forced to take back at the Academy weren't that useless". Brianna wasn't sure of the readings, she was, like she said, an engineer and not a medical officer. Jamson was spitting blood, a clear sign of internal damage and bleeding. The wound on his left arm was visible, and so was the large black collared 'stain' on top of his right side ribs.

Reaching down to her boot, she pulled out a knife she always carried with her and sliced Michael's tunic open. Frowning at the sight of his battered rib cage she then unzipped her jacket, leaving her in just the form hugging under shirt. "Adam.. find me a stick." She said, then frowned, as it really hurt to move her arm. Once Adam gave her a stick, she began to make a turn kit, wrapping her jacket around Michael's torso, then using the sleeves with the stick to tighten and make rib cage secure. Tying it off, she looked at him. "Best... I can do right now." She said, almost regretful.

Jamson tried to get a hold onto O'Shea's shirt, what's left from her uniform, and raise himself upwards, but couldn't. Brianna was quick to assist the prominent grumbler by providing him some support to lean on.

"I'll be fine..." he unwillingly said but after several seconds added a short "Thanks" in her left ear.

"What's with Lieutenant Jiiles?" Michael stared at the half dormant Bolian.

"He's sustained some injuries, but recovering" Anna replied.

Jiiles groaned as he rolled slowly on to his side. With every movement his head throbbed. He thought that his brain was about to explode through his skull. Opening his eyes a fraction more he stared at the green moss for a few seconds before hauling himself on to his knees. The sudden change in position brought up bile from his stomach, lurching suddenly he proceeded to throw up violently.

"What about the others? And You?" Jamson kept asking. He remembered Marcus being unconscious, Richard's last brave entangle with the Borg, Omar's and Brianna furious fight with the drones, and Adam's almost dying experience. Everything came back to him, and he wanted to hear everyone was ok.

"Everyone is fine, don't worry about it. We still need to find a way out, hopefully before anything else happens." Anna sighed. "The Holodeck systems are unstable, as far as we know, the current program could change again at any given time".

"We were lucky this time..." Kevinson remarked.

"What about the next time?" Richard questioned.

"There won't be a next time! We're getting out of here this instance!" Omar raised his voice.

"And how exactly are we supposed to get out, Senator?" Jiiles said as he rolled back on to his side away from the puke, "Why don't you try to blast the doors like before? That was useful..." Jiiles said sarcastically pointing to the holodecks' doors with his elbow as he rubbed his head again. The pain was beginning to dull now that he was again fighting to stay awake, though the taste in his mouth was most unpleasant. And the sight next to him.!

"You pitiable blue-" Omar was interrupted before he could finish his insult.

"OH, what now?" Jiiles retorted he was getting increasingly irritable, and angry especially with this stupid Romulan who though he was better than everyone else.

"If you were a competent engineer this would not have happened in the first place, you are all insufferable!" Omar snorted.

"You want to start something?" Jiiles tried to stand up but didn't get much further than sitting upright before rubbing his head again and grunting with pain, "If it wasn't for you then we wouldn't be in this stupid mess. If anyone is pitiful it's you, pining for the commander, chasing her while she is at work, barging in on a classified project. If you had done such a thing back on your home world you would have lost your comfortable position and your assets.."

"Lieutenant!!! Senator!" Brianna stared at Jiiles viciously for the second time, still supporting Jamson. "Everyone...calm down!" she yelled, "We are getting out of here, there's no question about it. But we need to work our way out! And hell, I'm not waiting around here for the Borg or any other damn race to drop by and slaughter us all!"

The whole crew, including Senator Omar, his uniform stained with green blood, became silent. It was evident the Lieutenant Commander was right.

"It's getting rather chilly in here" Langly stated.

"I believe it's sunset" Kevinson raised his hand, getting everyone's attention to the two suns at the now purple sky.

"We need to prepare for nightfall" Jamson whispered.

"What about repairs???" Omar asked.

"Condition Yellow" - Part VI (Continuing the "Hot Rods" Story.)

By

Lieutenant Commander Brianna O'Shea, Chief Engineer/Sec(Trey),
Lieutenant Michael Jamson, Operations Officer(Bob),
Lieutenant Jiiles, Engineering Officer(Dru),
Ensign Marcus Slayton, Engineering Officer(Will),
Ensign Richard "Ringo" Langly, Engineering Officer(Martin),
Senator Ramir Omar, Romulan Ambassador(Jon)
And Chief Petty Officer, 3rd Class, Adam Kevinson (Trey)

::Holodeck IV::

"That would have to wait...first we need to find shelter" Brianna glanced around, looking for anything that might provide cover for the night. They were not in good condition, and surviving the night, especially if it was getting any colder, would only make things worse. "Jiiles...what's the temperature?".

"We can't leave the arch, it's right here!" Omar was clearly nervous.

"Then we'll set camp here!" Brianna returned the favor, "Jiiles?"

Jiiles sighed, "Temperature is at 16 degrees, Celsius, and dropping. I estimate that by nightfall, the temperature would drop rapidly" he read the results from his tricorder.

"Fine" O'Shea thought for a moment before moving on. "Ok...this is what we'll do. We'll have two people working on the repairs at all times. The others in the meanwhile would prepare the camp." She turned to everyone and handed the assignments, "Langly and Jamson would start working on the systems, right now. Michael's in a bad shape, so I want him to work first and then get some rest".

"I'm not a bloody baby! I can handle myself" Jamson muttered softly.

"Lieutenant, the last time I checked, I was the lieutenant commander around here, so I give the orders!" she was having enough of them all; it was like babysitting a kindergarten. "All the rest of us would start building the camp. Any ideas?"

Richard said nothing. He'd never been with the boy scouts. He doubted if anyone else of the group had. What was worse, there were no computers around. How would they ever survive without such a basic element?

"There are some trees over there." Jiiles pointed out, indicating the forest about 50 feet away.

"We could use the phasers to cut wood?" Langly contributed.

Jiiles nodded. "The branches could provide shelter and we could cut up the wood for fire wood." Jiiles said. He was still sitting on the floor as he spoke. "I guess that leaves you and me commander to get the wood and provide the shelter." Jiiles stated rather than questioned.

Jiiles stared at the ground for a moment, he and O'Shea hadn't got on very well. In fact he had been down right rude, and for some reason he still felt hostile towards her. But in order for him to get up he was going to need some help. And he was loathed to ask her. He didn't want to look weak in anyone's eyes especially hers. But he was going to have to swallow his pride, "Commander?" Jiiles called out quietly, "Could you, give me, a, hand?" he asked pausing between his words. He looked up at her sheepishly. He didn't want her to know the extent of his injuries, and he didn't want to let the group down. Everyone had suffered some sort of injury, especially Jamson, and he wasn't groaning or asking for help. Jiiles turned away from O'Shea and before she could put Jamson down, Jiiles was already trying to stand on his own. Scrambling to his knees he paused and waited for the spots to un-cloud his vision before he tried standing up.

"Uh, yea,...I just like to point out that we're fresh out of computers. Major problem." Richard stated just out of the blue.

Brianna slowly helped Jamson to sit down next to the consoles under the arch. Michael raised several broken tricorder and personal padd parts "Richard, you and I can take care of the computer issues. We'll improvise with all these parts".

"That it should come to this!" Richard stated and shook his head. "A few parts of Tricorders and PADDS. What good can come of that?" Nevertheless Richard sat down and started to puzzle with what he had, trying to come up with at least something they could use.

Anna moved over toward Jiiles. She said nothing, she wasn't one to make fun, even though part of her just wanted to stand there, clap her hands, then tell him she'd just gave him a hand. Instead, she took his hand on her fore arm and lifted the Bolian up to his feet. "Steady yourself against me until your under control." She told him.

Jiiles took her arm, boy did he feel embarrassed. After a few minutes he stood up slowly and again waited for his vision to clear. Reluctantly he let go of her arm, he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him like this. But then in retrospect he already had.

Pulling down his uniform he tried to reclaim his dignity. He inclined his head towards O'Shea, "Thank you." He said gratefully, and for a change there was not a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Wood!" he said quickly before O'Shea had a chance to smirk.

"I can go get it, your barely walking." Anna stated, as she started and felt him trying to walk with her. Sighing she put his arm around him. She said nothing else, worried that if she did she would say something that might not be good giving the situation. "I'm going to get us out of here, Jiiles, you and the others are going to be okay."

"I'm fine commander, really. I'll be fine. Just... fine." Jiiles stopped abruptly and knelt down. Heaving several times he threw up once more. Wiping his mouth he looked back up at O'Shea, "Just fine, Sir. Lets go get some dammed wood!" he stood up, wavering slightly, and began to stride towards the woods. If he kept going he might just make it.

"You must really hate me, why don't we leave the rank and positions behind us... you just tell me what you think of me... I get the same chance.. other wise, once this is over, you and I are never going to be able to work together." Anna said, letting him go since he proclaimed he was fine.

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

"Did you get it?" Jamson looked over his shoulder to Richard. He was checking the status of the consoles and systems, by using the same tricorder Jiiles used to change the program when the Borg attacked. They needed more processing power, and hardware of they were to access the Holodeck's systems. They had to access the ODN fiber network from several locations and didn't have enough resources to do so.

"Well...it's not exactly a standard computer or tricorder, but it'll do just fine...I guess" Richard was holding what appeared to be a mix of tricorder and padd parts with some isolinear chips and power cells, all mixed together and wired like a toy of some sort. "I've increased the EM and subspace sensors from what we have. The field of view is a lot narrow than the standard TR-670 tricorder and doesn't have bi-directional reading capability".

"Not bad..." Jamson commended as he checked the improvised computer. "Power loops, sensor assemblies, primary and secondary processors, display and control interfaces, sub space transceiver and memory storage units from the isolinear chips. The sarium-krellide power cells should give us 36 hours of power. What about the Giga Floating Point? GFP?"

"Less than 200 GFP...and since we don't have densified chromopolymer isolinear crystals, I've had the use regular chips" Langly pointed out.

"So the capacity is less than 9 kiloquads???" Jamson said and Langly nodded.

"Lucky for us the display matrix used in padds is similar" Jamson added.

Michael didn't really appreciate the Ensign until the incident with the Borg. He saw how the same officer he thought to be, dissenter, turned to be a real courageous being. He stormed the Borg drone with nothing but a gravitic caliper, not thinking. It was a foolish act, indeed, but a brave one as well. Jamson trusted his instincts more than anything, that's what a warrior needed in battle.

"Yeah, lucky...if you can consider us lucky at this moment." Richard didn't look up from his work. He was just too busy. It was a small wonder he managed to create something working at all.

"Ensign. Richard. I - just wanted to say" Michael hesitated, "Your actions back with CPO Kevinson are to be-Hmm...." Jamson had a hard time acknowledging his previous behavior, "Praised". "You did well...it was a bit foolish, attacking a Borg drone with gravitic caliper, but you did really well".

Richard paused for a moment and looked up. "_It_ had my friend. I had to do something. Hey, I know how people think of me...but I stand with my friends. I'm no coward..." He continued to talk, but the next few words could barely heard. "though I almost pissed in my pants."

"Next time...we'll do it together?" Jamson smiled.

Richard grinned and nodded. "Deal."

"Right then" Jamson turned back to the console, it was time for business and not personal chit-chat. "What we need now...is to access the two main holographic subsystems. The Holographic imagery subsystem, which creates the background environment. A major part of it, is the Omni-directional Holo diode, OHD, which contains the two subsystems we should take care of. The optical and forcefield projectors. Then we have the matter conversion subsystem...which replicates everything".

"Yes, if we can do that we'll be able to influence the Holodeck. At least partly." Richard walked towards Jamson and the console at which he stood. He looked into it, hoping to see where he could plug in the little 'toy' and Jamson he constructed.

"We have to find a way to access these systems through all the mess we made here" Jamson lifted some crossed wires and ODN fibers.

"There should be some access points where we can hook up this little gadget." Richard pushed away some other ODN fibers. "I believe it's located somewhere there, near that sub-processor...I think. I'm not such a hardware fan."

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

Jiiles almost stopped, but instead of coming to an abrupt halt he slowed his pace and stared at the ground. Taking a deep breath he turned to her and half smiled. "I'm glad you brought this up, I don't think I could have been big enough to." He admitted.

"I don't hate you Commander. O'Shea." he trailed slightly not knowing what to call her at this point in time. He certainly wasn't going to call her by her first name. He had been far too disrespectful to pull that off even though she had called of an off the record chat.

He took another deep breath and tried to collate his thoughts on the matter. "I don't hate you." He said again, "I hate what you represent." He said his brow knitting as he worked through his thoughts and the pain.

"My name is Brianna or Anna... what is it I represent, Jiiles?" Anna asked, standing there, then moved to start picking up some wood. "Watch for wild life, we don't need snake bits." She said, then looked back to him waiting for him to answer her question.

Jiiles looked down at her and frowned. Slowly he took out his phayser and changed the setting. He wasn't sure how to explain this but he was going to try. He crouched down next to her and took the twigs from her hands placing them on the floor.

"Ethan was one of my best friends. I trusted him with my life." He began looking her in the eyes.

"I loved Dhanishta from the moment I met her. True it was in an alternate reality, but still, I remember how she looked that day. I remember the first meeting we had after that. She broke into my quarters. She was sitting in the dark, crying behind my couch." His eyes watered as he recalled the memory, "I loved her then too. And the weeks and months that followed, I fell for her more and more." He paused and broke eye contact, "And then Ethan. he, they." he didn't know how to conclude that sentence, so he just skipped it, "My best friend killed the one person that I ever loved.

And then you took his job and pushed him off the ship. He should be here. He should pay for what he did." He stood up and turned away from her.

"He should be paying ... but he's not. He's not here to see what he did, and part of that is your fault. I know that that's not fair. You did your job, you did it well and there was no other choice but to demote him and promote you. But," he sighed knowing that his intolerance for her was totally unjustified, "But then you came and you took his place and, and I hate that you're here and he's not. Because all I want to do is hit him and never stop. And at the same time I want my friend at my side, to talk to, to confide in to just ... to just be here." Jiiles was crying now. He kept his shoulder towards O'Shea so she couldn't see. Pointing the phayser he pushed the button and watched the beam flow from the device as if it were an extension of him and his anger.

"Suder is paying for his action. he wasn't cutting it as a Chief Engineer." Anna said. "I knew Dhani long before now. I was here before, as chief engineer with her, Suder and Ella. I can't change what happened to Dhani, but as Chief I can prevent it from happening again. hopefully in the future." She said, watching him.

"Suder lost what he had because well he wasn't making the grade. I didn't ask to be given back command of the department. It happened because I make sure things get done, I have the latest information being part of Starfleet Corp of Engineers. With the refit, I was the logical choice they could get." She said, then looked at him.

"Your battles aren't with me, Jiiles. There with Dhani dying, Suder for failing and fraking up..."

Jiiles nodded and released his grip on the phaser, lowering it, he turned to face her, no longer caring that he was crying like a child, "I know." He replied, "and I'm truly sorry, Anna." His lip wobbled and the tears streamed down his face. Closing his eyes he bowed his head in disgrace and shame.

Had Anna been with her marine friends she would have just told them to walk it off. Instead she looked at him and sighed, before moving over and putting her arm around him. "Listen... Jiiles... look at me." She said, making him look at her. "I miss Dhani to, didn't get to know her that long, but you standing here now talking about her gives me a idea of what she was like." Anna said.

"It shows me how wonderful she must have been... I regret that I didn't get the chance to know her longer then I did." Anna said. "You need to cry, you do that, crying isn't a bad thing... releases stress... between you and me and the tree.. hell, not even the tree, just you me... soon as I get out of here, in my quarters, having myself a good cry." Anna said, then gave a sympathetic smile.

Jiiles wasn't sure what he would have appreciated more, a sharp slap and told to pull himself together, which is kind what he had expected from her, or the sympathy vote. Part of him did like the approach she took, but it was like she was endorsing his actions. And nothing could, or rather, should.

"Thank you." He said trying to hold in the tears, "Anna, Commander," he changed his tone slightly, the off record part was done in his eyes, "I understand that you need to put this on my record. I deserve a formal reprimand for my actions, words and disgraceful behavior during this mission. No matter the reasoning I am a Starfleet officer and I disgraced myself and my colleagues, I deserve nothing less and I expect nothing less."

"Only thing you're going to be on record for is if you tell anyone I said it was okay to cry." She said, picking up some logs in her bloody arm. "I've filed so much on Nara, if I file anything on you, counseling and Henderson are going to think I can't get along with anyone... so what happens in the holodeck... stays in the holodeck as far as I'm concerned." Anna stated.

"Sir," Jiiles was about to protest, sighing he smiled, "I'll let you win this round!" he said with an almost cheeky grin. Wiping his face he began to cut up the fallen tree into logs for O'Shea to gather. After a good hour Jiiles and O'Shea returned to camp, Jiiles dragging half a tree and O'Shea piled with logs to get the fire started. The air between them had cleared and both of them carried a slight smile across their faces.

Everyone looked over and saw Anna and Jiiles sharing a smile, surprisingly they came back together from the woods and neither was missing a limb.

"Before you all as why we are smiling, we fraked in the woods." Anna said, then chuckled as she pulled her phaser and began to make the fire. "I want a report on getting that door open, gentlemen... I'd like it before I have to kill someone and roast their ass for our dinner."

"Anna please!" Jiiles chastened smirking slightly. Moving through the group he winked at Jamson.

"Michael?" Anna approached both Langly and Jamson. "We've made a present for you...."

"Condition Yellow" - Part VII (Continuing the "Hot Rods" Story.)

By

Lieutenant Commander Brianna O'Shea, Chief Engineer/Sec(Trey),
Lieutenant Michael Jamson, Operations Officer(Bob),
Lieutenant Jiiles, Engineering Officer(Dru),
Ensign Marcus Slayton, Engineering Officer(Will),
Ensign Richard "Ringo" Langly, Engineering Officer(Martin),
Senator Ramir Omar, Romulan Ambassador(Jon)
And Chief Petty Officer, 3rd Class, Adam Kevinson (Trey)

::Holodeck IV::

"A Present?" Jamson turned around.

"Try it on..." Anna handed him a wooden stilt. "Jiiles and I made it. Should help you running around".

Jamson was puzzled "Great...now I'm crippled".

******* Several hours later ****************

It's been several hours, and the team was still building the camp site. A lot of progress was achieved but the crew was still working on some details. They now had a big fire to heat everyone, and some water as well. Wood was not a problem and the shelter was coming up nicely. No one knew how long it would take them to repair the systems, or if the program was about to change any time now, but everyone hoped they wouldn't have to stay around and find out.

"No direct access?" Jamson asked Langly for the 10th time. Langly shook his hand in response, "What about now?" he insisted and adjusted some connections on the ODN network.

"Uh uh..." And Richard sighed. "No way hozay."

"Damn systems..." Jamson leaned slowly backwards and rubbed his eyes. He was trying to ignore the pain, the agonizing pain, with work, but it was almost impossible to do so. The weather was getting colder and colder, it seemed like it was going to rain. They needed that shelter fast.

"See, that's why I rather stick with the software side of things." Richard stood up. By now his muscles ached and were stiff. It was getting colder, much colder.

"How is it going, guys?" Brianna approached the two.

"We can't get any direct access to the main holographic systems..." Jamson was tired.

"But how was Jiiles able to change the program?" Anna looked at the consoles herself.

"Must have been an overload of some sort" Jamson threw a polaron probe to the dirt. "The program was overloaded so the computer changed it. The logs don't indicate why, Richard and I looked over the logs. We can't figure out the reason. I'm sure the pulses from the packs have something to do with it".

"Wait..." Langly paused for a moment. "The entire network of OHD's, project precise light frequencies, with sound and forcefields. Everything works together. The optical data networks sends impulses, like display screens that are broken into tiny segments".

"Yes?" Jamson tried to understand by completing the picture "And each OHD, as part of the wide array, displays a part of the whole picture as the viewer moves. The visible image changes, and visual holograms coming from the projectors fills the gap between the viewer and the displays. Each effect is controlled by the computer...distances, or weather effects, it's all controlled by the computer, overseeing the huge number of OHD network of arrays".

"There's also the Polygon coordinate system" Langley continued.

"Yes, for the 3d effects, coming from different angles....yes yes...I'm aware of all that. That's the basics for replicator and holographic technologies. I took those classes back at the academy, I'm quite familiar with them. What's the point, Richard?" Michael was getting edgy.

"We can't seem to get access directly to the main systems, why don't we try the subsystems?" Langly suggested.

"We don't have access whatsoever..." Jamson complained.

"No...you're thinking of traditionally accessing a program, through ordinary means" Richard smiled. "Forget about getting permissions and commands. What if we, simply, try to deactivate one of the small subsystems...like the projectors?"

"How?" Jamson moved on.

Richard smirked "Sabotage the projectors if we have to."

"Oh..." Michael could feel the cold wind slapping him over and over, "and by thus, interfere with the entire OHD process, which could interrupt the holographic imagery subsystem. This, theoretically, could stop the entire program, as there are serious malfunctions and no safeties around to keep everything running. Let's give it a try".

"Give what a try?" Jiiles came over. Jamson briefed him quickly on the idea Langly had. "Oh no you don't. I'll take over here chap. Me and Omar can handle it, you could use the rest. Michael, you don't look too good."

"I guess I could use the sleep" Jamson surprisingly agreed. He lacked the strength to argue, and truthfully, he wasn't feeling too well.

As Jamson moved away from the arch Jiiles took over. "You too Langly." Jiiles said, "Get some rest. Omar can assist me here." Jiiles motioned the Romulan over. For Jiiles the air had cleared, although probably not for the Senator and himself. Maybe while they worked on the systems they might be able to work on each other.

"Here," Jiiles said as the Senator came closer, "Hold this. I need you to run a scan every thirty seconds while I recalibrate the sensors."

Omar didn't say anything. He accepted this task as helping to get them out of here. He just wanted out of this holodeck.

Anna made sure that Michael and Richard had gotten down by the fire. She was tried, her body was hurting. Her arm was cradled with her other. Dried blood plastered the side of her head and stained what was left of her uniform. She wouldn't let herself sit down, she was to concerned she'd not be able to get back up. Moving over she knelt down and checked on Marcus. He was cold, so she moved him closer to the fire. Placing another log on, she looked around. This was just supposed to have been a normal study mission.

Instead it had turned into a survival. Everyone was hurt in some fashion, some worse then others. Anna just wanted to get her people through this.

As night passed Jiiles continued to work on the repairs. Omar returned to the camp to sleep and O'Shea took his place. Though she too eventually turned in, right beside him as it happened! Jiiles smiled down at her. She too was determined to keep going but eventually sleep had taken its hold. She looked quite pretty when she was sleeping. She probably looked pretty all the time but Jiiles had never taken the time to notice. He had been too busy trying to ignore her. Slowly he slipped off his duty jacket and wrapped it around the commander before returning his focus to the repairs.

Working through the night, occasionally walking around to keep himself awake Jiiles had not noticed the change in temperature, or rather drop in temperature. It was raining every now and then, but nothing too serious until recently. The shelter was already done, but it was getting a lot colder than before. He hadn't taken a break, he was hell bent on fixing the systems and getting the hell out of this holodeck, vowing to never use them again. If the time came when he needed to take someone out on a romantic date, as if! His quarters would suffice, even the mess hall would do, but never a holodeck!

As he continued to work his mind flooded with all sorts of random thoughts, conversations future and past. ones with people he hadn't seen in years, one last week with ensign something or other from Ops, yet all his thoughts invariably lead back to Dhani.

As the light from the dawn flooded around them Jiiles let out a squeal of excitement. "Commander. Commander. ANNA!" he hollered in O'Shea's ear, as she was lying by his feet.

"She's asleep?" Jamson moved slowly and cautiously from the camp, using the wooden stilt Brianna and Jiiles prepared for him. There was mud all over camp, from the constant rain. It didn't stop and kept getting stronger. Lightning and thunder weren't rare, but it wasn't too bad. It was handy, but still Michael didn't approve of it. He was certain this 'cane' of his, made him look pathetic. "Forgot to thank you for the wooden crutch."

"Don't mention it." Jiiles replied still staring into the guts of the holodeck, "Besides what are you doing up?" Jiiles asked grunting slightly as he repositioned himself to get in closer to the area he was working on.

"I can't sleep...I don't know if it's the pain, or the cold. Maybe both. We need to get out of here" Jamson rubbed his hands together. As he closed his eyes, a big role of thunder startled him. The rain wasn't going away. "It's getting worse isn't it?"

"Yeah...I don't think it's going to stop anytime soon" Jiiles took a moment to pear up at the black sky.

"Were you and Omar able to stop the OHD's and projectors?" Jamson asked in anticipation, although he figured he knew the answer.

"No..." Jiiles looked in despair at the console and wires coming out of it. "We were able to reach the right subsystems through the ODN fibers, there and there" he shifted again and pointed to all the connections and wires made with the improvised tricorders Langly and Jamson created. "But, the holodeck and computer seem to get ahead of us every step of the way. It seemed like every time we were able to stop a projector or overload an OHD, the holodecks' systems use backups to bring it back in another location, and eventually replace it."

"Multiple separate environment?" Jamson asked.

"Yeah...it's a bitch. Apparently, some of the system safeties are actually on" Jiiles concluded.

The two sat under the arch, submerged in disappointment and soaked in water, shaking from the cold and trying to warm themselves occasionally, when the first shower of hail started. Another sign that the situation was getting grim. The weather was changing rapidly. In a matter of hours, it changed from cold winds, to pouring rain, to noisy thunder and now hail. What was next?

"Holy crap..." Jiiles moved deeper under the arch, with Jamson following. They both didn't know what to think. The others were sleeping, clearly, not disturbed by the noise. They both figured by the looks of each other, that if the systems aren't getting fixed any time sooner, they wouldn't stand a chance in this weather. None of them had appropriate clothing; hypothermia was just a question of time.

"I would never use a holodeck again in my life!" Jiiles stated. "If I have the chance...I would cut all the power to all the holographic systems onboard! That includes replicators!"

"Condition Yellow" - Part VIII (Continuing the "Hot Rods" Story.)

By

Lieutenant Commander Brianna O'Shea, Chief Engineer/Sec(Trey),
Lieutenant Michael Jamson, Operations Officer(Bob),
Lieutenant Jiiles, Engineering Officer(Dru),
Ensign Marcus Slayton, Engineering Officer(Will),
Ensign Richard "Ringo" Langly, Engineering Officer(Martin),
Senator Ramir Omar, Romulan Ambassador(Jon)
And Chief Petty Officer, 3rd Class, Adam Kevinson (Trey)

::Holodeck IV::

Jamson smiled "I love the idea." As the hail was getting stronger, Jamosn noticed something quite odd. Small tiny bits of frozen hail were hitting the dirt really hard. The holographic matter in one of the corners was decaying, and flashing as if something wasn't working right. It wasn't the hail, but the effect of it moving really fast that enabled Michael to see this projecting optical error. That was enough to set his mind back to work. He was thinking hard, trying to figure what was he looking at and how he could use this to their advantage. "Jiiles..." He said while still sorting ideas in his mind.

"Hmmmm?" Jiiles was curled inside his uniform trying not to shake with the cold. He hadn't noticed it while he had been working. But now that he had stopped, he could feel it. With every gust of wind the hail hit him, soaking his tunic, as he has already given his jacket to the sleeping commander. If he wasn't already blue he was sure that he would be. He was slightly amazed that Jamson wasn't turning blue beside him.

"The OHD's arrays are all over the floor, walls and ceilings, right?" He didn't wait for Jiiles to reply. "They receive power directly from the plasma conduits, correct?" Michael said in enthusiasm.

"Yeah...?" Jiiles mumbled as he blew into his hands and rubbed them together, he didn't understand what Jamson was getting at.

"What if we cut the power like you've said?" Jamson explained, still staring at the same corner.

Jiiles looked astounded "Cut the power?" and then noticed the same corner Michael was looking at. With his mouth opened, he quickly jumped to his feet, and ran towards the corner. "Cut the power!" he protected his face from the hail and wiped his forehead a couple of times. He then returned to Michael and shared his enthusiasm "How exactly are we going to cut the power?".

"We destroy the connections to the plasma conduits?" Jamson asked, running numbers in his head.

"No! We can't...the gel packs. We need to get rid of the gel packs first, then handle the conduits" Jiiles moved quickly to the console and disconnected the wired tricorder that saved their lives before. He ran some diagnostics on the defected projector, and then on the packs, that were still visible in certain parts of the holodeck. "We need to run diagnostics, see if it works out".

"Lets get on it." Jamson replied.

By the time the sun was rising, the Engineer and Operations officers were hectically running diagnostics and figuring out what would work and what wouldn't. They wished they could run simulations, but with the holodeck running wild, and no regular computer access, this wasn't possible. All they had were a couple of tricorders and altered so called 'computers'.

"What are you two up two?" Anna woke up easily. Listening to them she nodded as CPO Kevinson walked up and listened. Anna was shivering, having used her tunic to make the splint for Michael, and after giving Jiiles his tunic uniform back, all she had was her undershirt on. Hail was stinging her skin as it came down form the sky and only made her move into the Arch more, but tried to stay away from what Michael and Jiiles was doing.

"He's... He's right." Anna said, chattering slightly. "We have.. we have to shut the packs down... ff..ff. first." She said.

"What if we use what phasers just to burn them out?" Kevinson asked.

"No!" Jamson interjected. "We do that we are looking at a massive power overload, which would disable the entire system!" He said, slightly yelling since the wind was beginning to pick up some. "Like the Senator mentioned before, we can't risk creating more powerful pulses into the system, as they are already building up. We'll breach the core."

"L.. let me.. see the tricorder." Anna said, as she reached her shaking hand out and took it from Michael he could feel her hands were like chunks of ice. Concern then for her taking hypothermia filled his mind and looked toward Jiiles, who probably as thinking the same thing.

Jiiles looked over. "Omar... get Ensign Slayton and bring him over here...we've got to get in out of the hail as best we can!"

Anna was finding it so cold, she could hardly think at this point. "This.. all started.. with a virus." She said.

"Virus..." Richard frowned at first, then looked at O'Shea with wide eyes. "That's it! You're a genius 'Commander. A genius!"

Looking at Rich she couldn't grasp what she'd said that made him say that. Her mind was being effected by the cold and concussion.

Jiiles stared at the Commander with wide eyes, if he had eyebrows they would have been raised, he nodded and half smiled at her before returning to look at the elated Langly.

"Don't you see? A virus could destroy the gelpacks." Richard almost yelled.

Jiiles frowned, "If we put a virus into the holographic system it would contaminate the gellpacks." Jiiles said, "It would destroy them but more importantly it would spread through the entire ship. It's not a risk we can take. And besides during the simulations for this that was half of the problem. the gellpacks thought the power it was receiving was a virus and dumped the excess power into the warp core causing it to breach. And thus destroying the ship. It's not an option I'm afraid." Jiiles concluded solemnly rubbing his hands together.

Richard shook his head. "No, no, not a real one! A holographic virus! We find the right virus, one that attacks the DNA strands, and then create a holographic variant of it. That would take out all the gellpacks. It can be done. I know there have been incidents where gelpacks were infected and destroyed by a virus."

Jiiles was silent for a moment as he worked through the idea in his head. "That could work. it would shut down the holodeck and we could then reroute power to the doors and get the hell outa here!" he nodded in satisfaction.

"One small problem," Richard said, "we don't have any connections to the LCARS, all the viruses are documented there." He concluded crest fallen.

Jiiles gave him a stern look, "Ringo," he began using his knick name, "I know that you are completely capable of doing this. You don't need the computer to tell you what to do or how to do it. You know how!" He said quietly, "I have complete trust in you, and besides man, you can work your way around every system on this ship."

"Jiiles is right, Rich... You can do this." Anna shaking like a leaf at this point.

Richard nodded slightly, he was an exceptional hacker! But how did Jiiles know about that? He looked down at the mess of OHD fibers and relays and pondered, designing a virus wasn't the hard part, uploading it was. and the tools they had were limited. "You expect me to do it with this?" he retorted gesturing to the exceptionally limited equipment they had.

All of a sudden, the whole weather changed, the winds strengthened and so did the hail. The branches of the trees were stripped from their green leafs when the hail become stronger. Trunks all over the forest were heavily scarred.

Jiiles nodded, "Not wanting to put you under pressure but firstly you are the most capable, and second, if you don't we are all gonna die in here!" he half shouted above the rising wind.

"Condition Yellow" - Part IX (Continuing the "Hot Rods" Story.)

By

Lieutenant Commander Brianna O'Shea, Chief Engineer/Sec(Trey),
Lieutenant Michael Jamson, Operations Officer(Bob),
Lieutenant Jiiles, Engineering Officer(Dru),
Ensign Marcus Slayton, Engineering Officer(Will),
Ensign Richard "Ringo" Langly, Engineering Officer(Martin),
Senator Ramir Omar, Romulan Ambassador(Jon)
And Chief Petty Officer, 3rd Class, Adam Kevinson (Trey)

::Holodeck IV::

Richard stared blankly at Jiiles for a second, and then looked around at the others all shaking with the cold. Pursing his lips he looked back down at what he had to work with.

"Right then! Shift it!" he said to Jamson. Sitting down with a grunt he began to do what he was known best for.

As the hail cascaded down on the ground, the drops bouncing off one another, the beautiful green moss and grass, was soon drenched in muddy swamp of water. There were no chirping sounds or birds. Only the cold remained, penetrating into the bones of the miserable crew. Tiny frozen flakes of snow dropped to the earth in an intolerable sluggish way.

"Incredible..." Jiiles broke the silence.

"What...snow?" Kevinson asked, surprised as well.

Jiiles stretched his hand towards the sky, and opened his palm "This phenomenon never ceases to amaze me."

"Merry Christmas..." Kevinson remarked.

Jiiles frowned at the comment; he had no idea what it meant. Slightly perplexed he turned back and marveled at the snow for a little bit longer.

"Could someone please explain what in the name of Dh'era is going on?" Omar crossed hands.

"I believe we're facing a drastic climate change. All the familiar signs such as, temperature descent, rain, high winds, hail, storms of all sorts, and all we've been through, indicate that this is a new era, or phase of some sort on this virtual planet" Jiiles was still looking to the sky.

"A Nuclear winter?" Richard asked without looking up.

Michael was still messing with some cables "That's interesting, but nuclear winters are a result of nuclear weapons. The fires, cause by explosions, spread smoke into the atmosphere. The smoke absorbs the sunlight, and this how a nuclear winter is created. We've had no evidence of any lifeforms, let alone weapons or radiation causing such an effect. Besides, it would take several months for a nuclear winter to be created".

"In that case, maybe an asteroid impact?" Anna pulled another theory. "It has the same effect of a nuclear winter, just instead of smoke, you have dust and particles blocking the skies."

"We haven't checked anything since we came here. All we did was to check the systems." Kevinson mentioned for everyone.

"I believe we're experiencing a new Ice Age on the holographic planet." Jiiles added another theory to examine.

"What are the effects of all the phenomenons you've mentioned?" Jamson didn't care what phenomenon it was and who was right, it would eventually affect them.

"We should expect weather deterioration. After the snow, if temperatures are to relapse into a colder state, there would nothing but ice. Things would start to die, life would vanish rather quickly. Especially in the rate of change we see in this program".

"Damn scientific simulations...if we get out of here, I'm going to find that damn scientist who created this program and chop his head off!" Michael was furious. Every step of the way, they were too late. Whenever they realized what had to be done, something bad happened. This was all, too much for them.

"Sss..ounds like we don't have much t..ime" O'Shea quivered.

Jiiles turned back from the sky and looked at the faces around him. In the last few minutes the snow had formed a thick white canvas across the moss. To him it was amazing. But the implications were quickly sinking in. Each face around him was as white as the settling snow. Slowly Jiiles reached out and stuck his index finger into it; to measure how much had fallen. It hadn't been snowing that long. and it was several inches thick. At this rate it would be several feet within the next few hours and if a blizzard came. it was going to get a lot worse.

"Langly, Jamson, continue here, you need a hand shout!" he turned back to O'Shea. His eyes were full of concern. Part of him wanted to tell her why he was worried but the other half wanted to keep quite and not alert anyone. He turned back to staring out at the snow.

"Commander," he said staring out across the snow, "stoke the fire. We are going to need it real soon!" he gave her a frosty look; he knew what was coming next. Handing her his duty jacket he frowned, "I'll be back in a bit; I'm going to get some more wood before it's too late. Omar, you're with me." he gave the senator a quick glance to make sure that he had heard him.

Omar nodded..

Anna slipped on the jacket, but she couldn't help but continue to shake as if it wasn't even there.

Turning back to O'Shea he leaned in closer, "I think we need to try and wake Slaton up. If he stays out much longer.. He's not going to make it. We need to keep him conscious and keep him warm. If he stays like he is when the temperature drops his body 'will' shut down." Jiiles stressed.

"I...I.. I know." She said. She didn't want to admit it. "I... I'll.. I'll handle it." Anna said.

Jiiles nodded, "Do what you can. And can I borrow your knife?" he had seen her use it earlier and kinda wished that he had some sort of survival tool with him. Though it was difficult to believe that they were still on the USS Galaxy and that all the creature comforts were just on the other side of that door! Taking the knife from O'Shea he turned with Omar in toe and headed out across the snow to the tree line.

Anna stood up and moved some rocks around Marcus, then moved some over toward where Jamson and Adam was working. She then pulled her phaser and used the rocks as a heating source by firing on them and let them radiate some heat.

Jiiles and Omar returned an hour later with several branches, or rather tree trunks, four of them! Throwing them down Omar began to cut one of the up into logs.

During their trip to the woods they had come up with a game plan! The snow was quite thick and dense. Jiiles has planned to build an igloo. It was going to be a dam sight warmer than the shelter they had already built.

"How's he doing?" Jiiles asked O'Shea, indicating Slayton.

"H.. he's ... a... alright." Anna said, then stood. "We... we've.. we've got to.. get out of.. h.. here." Anna said, she couldn't even feel her fingers anymore.

Jiiles nodded soberly and turned away. He was on a mission now. Building an igloo from scratch was going to take too long. But placing the snow around the structure would be easier and help insulate it, then the fire would stop going out!

"Omar!" he yelled over the noise of the winds, "Over here, leave the wood. We need to get this shelter covered over." The shelter was in front of the arch where Jamson and Langly were working hard. Kevinson emerged from the camp and rolled up his sleeves, "What's the plan gentlemen?" he asked, rolling his sleeves quickly down again, it was bloody freezing!

Jiiles explained and soon the three on them were working hard. Jiiles cut up blocks from the increasing snow while the other two began to build an exterior to the wooden structure they had already built.

Anna moved over toward Jamson and Richard and knelt down next to the rock which was radiating heat.

As the blizzard hit Jiiles cut out the last brick and watched as Omar and Kevinson carried it off and placed it carefully in the top, leaving a space for the chimney. Following them he waited till they were all inside and then crawled in. It was certainly a lot warmer in than out. Jiiles crawled over to Langly and Jamson, he wasn't going to rest now until they were out of this dammed place.

"How's it going?" he asked slightly nervously.

Richard turned round with a smug smile on his face, "Virus is being loaded now!" he replied.

Jiiles clasped him on the shoulder, "Well done. Let's just hope it does the job!" He sat back for a moment and took a deep breath, crossing his fingers at the same time!

"Adam..." Anna called out. Kevinson moved over toward her. Anna by this point was laying against the arch. Anna began to tell him what to do if they got the doors open. She couldn't move quick enough, nor could Michael. Adam nodded listening to her.

"Commander... Gel packs are changing... their going dead... " Langley stated, looking at the gel packs as they turned black. "Holographic virus is working!" He stated, triumphantly.

"Commander?" He asked, turning, as did Michael Anna was laying back eyes closed.

"She's going into hypothermia.." Michael said, moving over toward her to try and warm her some with himself.

Suddenly the wind and snow stopped. All those that could looked up, wondering if the holodeck was shutting down or if it was another damn program change. When the program shut down and replaced the snow with the yellow on black grid, there was a few grateful yells but people were still down.

Just as it did an engineering team from outside the holodeck was able to get the doors open. Jamson looked up, and saw some familiar faces. Lt. Rand looked at him, then the others. Reaching up the dark haired woman tapped her commbadge. "Medical emergency, Holodeck IV!"

Adam stood up and rushed through he crowd, running, he had to get the vents to release the energy into the space. Otherwise the core was going to be hit. Stopping at the lift, he remembered Anna told him that it wouldn't work until the energy was released. So he got into a Jeffries tube and began to climb his way toward the bridge. His hands blistered from the extreme cold, mouth chapped and his blood stained uniform was in some places in rags.

When the Chief Petty Officer, crawled out from hatch just outside the bridge. He quickly limped his way through the door way going into the observation lounge, went right through and came on out onto the bridge. Captain M'Kantu looked over at him and stood, wondering what in hell the was going on. "Petty Officer?"

"No.. No time to talk.. Captain." He said, as he walked over toward the engineering console. He then began to open up the vents and sent over rides into the computer to vent all excess energy. Once he did he leaned over on the console. Then took a moment, before turning toward the Captain. "Ship... is back.. in your control... Sir." He said, then dropped down to the deck, exhausted.

"Medical to the bridge.." M'kantu ordered.

"Energy is being vented.." Prescott said, still at engineering.

T'Rehn at Ops was already looking over the ship status. "Communications just came back online... running level one diagnostic. Computer is beginning to restore to previous status..." She reported.

"Ship is fully functional again, Captain." The Vulcan reported confidently then.

end

OOC: This wraps up the side storyline. I want to thank, Bob, Dru, Martin and all the others who helped out. I hope you all enjoyed the read. :)

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