“Tracking Down A Mad Woman”

Ensign Artim, Medical
Ensign Michele Krugan (Terran NPC played by Lori C.)
Saia (Trill APC played by Lori C.)

***Bran, Nara & Saia’s Quarters***

Saia moved her eyes to the left to spy on the woman sitting on the couch reading a PADD. Nara had told her the lady's name was Michele Krugan, who in a possibly too sweet tone, said she could call her Shelly. Saia had rolled her eyes and went to her painting. "Shelly" was told by Nara that Saia "does that" and not to take it personally. Well, she should take it personally. Saia didn't know this Shelly and had no intention of letting her know her! Nara can tell people that she rather paint. Didn't matter to Saia. Fact was, however, Saia just didn't like meeting new people. Less people she knew, less to lose. Aside from Nara, Miramon was the only one she figured it would be ok to get close to and they were worth being sad over if she lost them. Well, Sam too. Except that was more like working for someone.

Artim hated having to hunt down patients. People always sought to avoid doctors whenever possible. Artim was no exception to this after 20 years of being poked and prodded by doctor types. Of course, now Artim was one of those types, so now he was the hunter.

His prey today was Lieutenant Roswell, another person who had been brought to sickbay with strange aggressive tendencies, but before Artim had come up with his treatment. The childly appearing doctor was here to give the engineer one of the hormone regulation devices he'd had to use on the others. He'd brought his phaser along, just in case. Arriving at the proper quarters, Artim pressed the door chime and waited.

At the sound of the chime, Saia and the woman both looked at the door. After a moment, they turned to look at each other. Shelly raised an eyebrow at Saia. Saia frowned, "You're the adult."

Shelly smirked, thinking Saia adorable, but made Saia frown and jump up, "Fine, but if it's a giant, man-eating Tribble, Nara won't be too happy with you."

Shelly smiled, trying not to laugh because Saia looked so serious, "I'll get out my boxing gloves just in case." She put down the PADD as Saia reached up to type in a code. Some regulation wouldn't let children have voice commands, so Saia had to remember a stupid code. She hid the number keys from Shelly's view. Saia didn't care that Shelly was a security officer and some child's door lock code could be overridden by her.

The door swooshed to reveal a young boy almost the same height as Saia. She blinked at him. He was wearing a uniform. "Who are you and where did you get that?" Saia was curious why HE got to wear one and she couldn't.

Shelly was as befuddled as Saia, but decided to let him answer Saia's question before she spoke.

Artim smiled at the young Trill's question. He looked like a kid even to kids, which was normal. If adults asked the questions why shouldn't kids.

"I got this by going through four years of Starfleet academy and two years of medical school. You can too in a few years, when you get a bit older.", the Miran replied with a bit of a chuckle. He looked around the room and spotted the security officer, must have been Nara's escort.

"I'm Dr. Artim and I'm here looking for Lt. Roswell. I have a treatment to administer to her and she didn't report to sickbay. Is she here?"

Saia wasn't sure what to think of his answer, but looked at Shelly as he addressed her. Shelly seemed to be racking her brain and a light bulb went off. "Ah, yea." She still seemed unsure, but shook her head, "She went on the away team."

Saia looked back at him, "Are you like a genius?" She thought he was weird for wanting to go to all that school so young, but he was pretty to look at.

Before he could answer, Saia caught on to what he said about Nara. "Treatment? Is she that sick?"

Shelly walked over and put a hand on Saia's shoulder, only to be shrugged off. She lifted the hand and crossed her arms. "She was in a horrible mood when she left."

"Yeah, she is...or at least we think so. A lot of people are coming to sickbay with aggressive tendencies, and these" Artim said pulling out one of the collars, "are meant to keep the problem in check. I really need to get her one."

Artim sighed a bit and wondered how he might catch her before he had to report for his own away team duty. If she didn't have the collar she could relapse at any time.

"Well, I suppose I'll think of something. And little one, I'm about forty times your age, I just look ten.", Artim said shifting from a sigh to a huge grin."

Saia looked at him confused, "How?"

Shelly knelt down, "Let him be, sweetie. I'll explain later."

"Oh, its ok, I'm used to it, even from adults. I'm a Miran. I have a disease that makes me age 1/100th the rate of everyone else. I caught it when I was 6. I turned 201 on Federation Day. Anyway, if you see or hear from her, let sickbay know immediately."

"She was on her way to the shuttle bay. You may have missed her already." Shelly stated.

Saia looked worried, "She was being really mean. She's not a mean person. I mean, when I first met her, she didn't even talk! And she was screaming at everyone!" Saia didn't reject Shelly's hand as it landed on her shoulder this time. "Is she going to be ok?"

"Once we get this on her, she should be fine.", Artim said, switching to his reassuring doctor voice. "Computer, Locate Lieutenant Roswell."

"Lieutenant Roswell is not aboard the Galaxy". The soft female voice replied.

"Crap, well, I'll see if I can reach her before I leave. I must be going, please, if you see her, call sickbay at once."

Shelly looked at him, "The computer said she wasn't onboard."

"I know, but when she comes back...well anyway, I must be going." ,Artim said turning to leave.

Saia looked at the closed door a moment worried. Then she cast an unpleasant look at Shelly. Not for any particular reason except she wasn’t Nara or even Miramon. She walked back over to her canvas as a wicked idea crossed her mind, brought on by none other than the influence of one Samantha Widdlestein. Of course, there’s also the fact that any ten year old would think to do this.

There was a way to make this more pleasant. After thinking to herself what Sam would do, she sat and contemplated a moment.

Ah ha! She turned and looked at Shelly with the most sincere look, “Nara lets me have Delvan Pudding before dinner.”

Shelly looked up from her PADD and looked at Saia a moment before letting out a short laugh and looking back at the PADD.

Saia pouted and turned back around. Why didn’t that work? She’ll ask Sam. She hadn’t had Delvan Pudding since before... She sighed a moment, then focusing back on the painting. Maybe she could get some after dinner. When Nara was home. When Nara was normal. Nara had to leave a lot since they returned to the ship. And last time she came back, it wasn’t long before she started acting all weird. Was this just how it was in space?

"Freudian Slips" or "The Logic of Nothing"

Ensign Kiel Counselor,
USS Galaxy
with Unnamed Vulcan NPC

Location: Ten Forward
Soundtrack: 'La Serenissima' by Lorenna McKennitt

* * * * * * * *

The bitter, sugary taste of citrus flowed over the boy's tongue, as the young El Aurian lowered his glass of chilled lemonade down onto the small coffee table separating the youth from the tall, slender elven goddess of Surak that sat a mere foot away. As a counselor, it was Kiel's job to avoid any kind of attachment to his patients; but even still, the Vulcan crewman seated across from him was undeniable an attractive woman. As in, H-O-T. The boy hoped the low lighting was shading his face from clear view, because he could feel the warm blush across his cheeks. Even though she wore the drab uniform, he still found finding a 'safe' place to rest his eyes rather difficult as they spoke. This certainly wasn't one of the better ways to start of a counseling session. The cold, logical ice queen was having personal problems and the counselor was having issues with his hormones.

Swallowing nervously, the youth tried to foster the semblance of a quiet smile as he looked down at the table between the two. His bitter-sweet lemonade a stark contrast to the unsweetened, dark tea that the Vulcan Venus had ordered. He became aware of the fact that he was shuffling his hands anxiously, consciously folding them in his lap as the intergalactic wanderer risked a momentary glance upward into the shimmering, dark pools of the woman's eyes. His own hazel gaze blinking and flickering wildly as the El Aurian seemed remarkably ill at ease with the woman. Normally, Kiel could talk to anyone. It hadn't actually begun yet, and this session already looked as though it was going to be hell to get through. He made a note to schedule any future sessions for the Vulcan with either Commander Dallas or Elessidil. And then get her cabin number.

For purely professional reasons, of course. He'd studied with the Kohlinar monks after all. It would be interesting to see what kind of meditation techniques the Vulcan could teach him. It was just a passing thought, but Kiel wondered if Vulcan's knew tantric?

Wincing at the thought, the young boy could feel the blush glowing now. These hormones were definitely impacting his game. And probably on course to land him in trouble. Thankfully, the raven-haired Aphrodite spared him any more brooding over his own issues when she at last spoke in her perfectly level, icy smooth voice. "You seemed startled when I contacted you about this meeting, counselor," the woman stated placidly.

"Maybe a little," Kiel conceded quietly, cursing the fact that he could already feel his voice about to break on him. He had a larynx that was out to betray him, as if waiting for the right moment to warble and embarrass him. The woman was right about his surprise, though. Not many Vulcan's sought out counselors. Not that they didn't have personal issues, just more psychological controls in place than most species. "So, what's on your chest," the boy asked smoothly.

And then realization sank in. Open mouth. Insert foot.

"I, uh... I mean what did you want to get off of your chest," the youth stated brightly, his voice cracking noticeably in mid-sentence. The comment elicited a raised eyebrow from the Vulcan as the El Aurian held up a hand in a dismissive kind of wave. "It's a... human metaphor," the boy explained, smiling anxiously as he waited to see if the woman was actually dense enough to buy that line. That had been the mother of Freudian slips. And if there was one thing he didn't want to debate with Freud, it was mothers.

"I see," the Vulcan answered simply, though there was every indication that she hadn't understood it at all. Casting her gaze to glance out the large, bay windows of the crew lounge, the black haired Athena inclined her head. "This... place," she stated in a dry, matter-of-fact tone. "I cannot escape this vision. It intrudes upon my meditation and my sleep," the woman explained, a touch of hesitation apparent in her voice as she did. "It is not logical," she added after a moment had passed, turning her head away to look down at their table as she reached a slender hand out to gentle cradle the faux ceramic tea cup as she raised it to her lips.

Kiel gave a quiet sigh as he wondered what it would be like to be that tea cup just then. Blinking, the boy restrained the urge to smack himself in the head as he realized that he'd completely gone blank just then. The Vulcan was pouring her icy, logical heart out to him and he had sex on the brain! Sadly, that was the only place it was happening for him... but his pubertal issues were definitely not what he needed to be thinking about right now. Though the vision of what the Vulcan Diana would look like in a bikini... THAT he was saving for a holodeck program. Maybe a topless expanse or one of Risa's nude beaches...

"Damn it," the boy whispered, reaching up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he winced again as his thoughts threatened to spin out of control. He was totally losing it and this was definitely not cool. He just needed to plunge himself into a cold shower for the next five years or so.

"I beg your pardon," the woman inquired curiously, the already raised eyebrow rising up another notch along her forehead as she looked over at him.

"What it is that bothers you, specifically," the boy asked, hoping to smooth the situation over by ignoring the slip that had just occurred entirely and praying that she followed his lead. Of course, he knew the term 'bother' was likely to be an issue for his Vulcan patient. There was just something inherently wrong with a culture that founded itself on the concept of suppressing all emotion. And -there- was a wonderfully ethnocentric point of view, if ever there was one. Still, Kiel could just imagine getting the woman in touch with herself. Over some scented candles and hot body oils...

The young El Aurian had to wonder at just what point exactly his brain had taken the turbolift to the gutter. "What is it that you find to be illogical," he asked quietly, rephrasing his question slightly to try and coax the woman to open up to him more, to air out these pent up thoughts that had been troubling her. If his mind could stay focused on the counseling session for just a few more minutes, he might even escape this alive. Thank the gods that Dallas wasn't a Betazed. Kiel couldn't imagine working for a woman with a mind like his was at the moment. Of course, there was Elessidil, but at least that only left a male telepath to worry about. And thus far Kiel had yet to really deal much with the man. If he could keep that record up, he'd be golden.

Picking up his lemonade, Kiel's attention was only partially focused upon the Vulcan woman as she began to speak, as the boy began to run a series of mental exercises through his head to try and keep his thoughts from wandering. He just needed to focus on the conversation. The issue. The personal discomfort. Just needed to listen. Let her talk. Pay attention. Coax the conversation along. Nod. Digest. Query. That's it...

The ice in his glass chimed lightly as it melted down, swirling around as a bead of condensation ran down the side of the glass. Dropping down onto the table with an imperceivable splash.

“Searching through the static” Part One

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe - Engineer
Lieutenant (Jg) Naranda Sol Roswell - Engineer
Turan Trelar Quentite Ambassador – Engineer trainee, under supervision of Lt Eshe
Lieutenant Michael Jamson - Operations Officer

(This is set directly after the Engineering department JP “Scooby Gang”)

***Main Engineering***

Dhani looked over at Nara as the rest of the officers left the table. She smiled slightly, thinking all the while of what fun they were going to have!

Nara just looked back, and then turned away. She didn't like Dhani now. In truth, she was frightened of her. In truth she was very peeved with her. How DARE she attack her mind?

"Turan," Dhani said turning to the Quentite with a strained smile, "glad to see you. How have you been?" she asked.

"Oh ... I've gone through some very exciting experiences, Lieutenant. I'm glad you finally are back. They told me you died. I can't tell you how happy I am to see the gossip about your death was a little bit ... how is it called? ... exaggerated." answered Turan. A smile rushed over his face.

Dhani nodded, exaggerated wasn’t quite what it was, but at least someone was glad to see her. She looked back at Nara, "Lt. Roswell, this is Turan Trelar. He is the Quentite ambassador. And also my trainee." She replied with air of superiority. "Turan, Lieutenant Roswell." Dhani said with a nod, concluding the introductions.

Turan glanced at the Lieutenant he met during another engineering meeting the week before the Galaxy arrived at Mirusa Six.

Nara barely missed the introduction, but caught it in time to nod at the tall guy. She would have given him a smile and a handshake, but she wasn't feeling like being pleasant. She wanted to be somewhere this woman wasn't.

Taking a deep breath Dhani looked back to Nara. "Lets get to work." She said pushing herself up from the table. "I suggest we start with broad beam active scan, and then move on to several narrow beams. We need to narrow the beam and re modulate the scan. Unless you have any other suggestions?" Dhani asked seriously. She wanted to make sure that all avenues were thoroughly searched.

Nara looked Dhani in the eyes again, "Just stay out of my mind." The words were spoken low and firm. Then she looked at her PADD and spoke before the other woman or Turan could say anything, "I agree to start where you suggest."

Dhani noted the anger in Nara's voice as she spoke to her, and then her quick change of subject. She flashed her a small smile that was more out of snide politeness than anything else.

"Right then lets go." Dhani said leading the way out of engineering. She wanted very much to return the remark to Nara; she had no idea what she had done when she entered Dhani's mind. She had no idea of the damage that was caused, of the pain that her little trip inflicted upon Dhani. How much further *she* had caused Dhani to retreat. Nara deserved a taste of what it was like. Revenge didn't taste bitter at all… Really it didn't!

At the end of the corridor Dhani stopped at the turbo lift, and depressed the call button. She glanced at Nara for a moment, assessing the woman before her. She seemed unfocused, totally uninterested in the task at hand. Dhani sighed inwardly. She was going to have to explain everything to Turan and try to motivate Nara too. This was going to test her patience that was already wearing thin. She rolled her eyes as she stepped into the Turbo lift, “Bridge.” She called out flatly. Side glancing at Turan and Nara once more she sighed and resolved to stare at the wall.

Turan looked up at the ceiling. The bridge - the place the whole vessel was commanded from. How did the bridge look like? He was never ordered or invited to come up there. Although he - the Quentite ambassador - would have been granted access to Galaxy's the nerve centre, he didn't dare to go there.

Nara was tired. Miramon was right about that. She hadn't slept well lately. Hadn't been eating much either; only a few bites so Saia would eat. Standing was hard. Walking was an effort. Thinking took longer than it should. She blinked wearily and looked at the woman she had had a mental battle with.

That in itself could exhaust, anger, and freak her out. But that was just the icing on the cake. It was like she, herself, were venting something. Some of it was hers, but most of it wasn't. Even in her weariest, she tried not to take it out on anyone. Trying didn't cut it now though.

She had entered someone's mind and attacked it. But wasn't she only defending herself against Dhani? Wasn't Dhani supposed be a friend? All that was out the window now. Now Nara felt like she had to defend herself against this woman. And figure out a way to get back at her.

She didn't start that violent exchange earlier. She just wanted to say hi. She wasn't sure why Dhani's reaction made her react like she did. From there, all went down. Nara was still wondering where all that came from. That and trying to stay awake.

Why was she so weak lately? It seemed her mind was so drained; it took her physical energy to stay alert.

**** Deck 1, Main Bridge ****

As the lift door opened exposing the misfits to the bridge crew Dhani took lead and walked out purposefully, in her wake Nara and Turan followed, neither looked impressed at this point in time.

Walking up to the Operations consol at the Science station Dhani relieved the man on duty and commandeered his position, Nara slid into a seat next to her while Turan stood behind them.

“Find yourself a stool, Turan.” Dhani said as she familiarised herself with the control panel, “We are going to be here a while.”

Turan looked around. There wasn't any stool. Obviously, who ever constructed this vessel's bridge didn't think about extra stools for alien lurkers. Turan settled down on the middle bar of the railing dividing the Operations console from the lower commanding area.

Nara pressed some buttons, "I suggest we calibrate the sensors to pick up bone tissue. Most species' bones are made of calcium, so it doesn't miss any living creature and is still specific."

"May I ask a question, Ma'ams?" asked Turan and without waiting for an answer continued. "Could you tell me what we are searching for?"

Without looking up, Nara answered, "A clue."

Dhani looked at Nara with a raised questioning eyebrow, and then turned around to face Turan, keeping her body partly towards Nara so she could address them both.

“We are conducting a scan of Deep Space 5.” Dhani informed them both, “There is a lot of interference…” she continued, questioning all the while why did no one listen to O’Shea during the debriefing? “We don’t know where the interference is coming from, but we have to try and cut through it somehow. We are going to start with a broad beam active scan. This is unlikely to work as we have already tried, but we need to be thorough. O’Shea will expect, and accept nothing less.” Dhani turned back to the consol and began the scan. While the computer worked Dhani turned back and continued her explanation,

“We will then try several narrow beams, at different angles. And we are also going to try and narrow the field by looking for specific things, for example as Lt Roswell stated, bone tissue. Not only are we looking for survivors from the station we are also scanning for its structural integrity, life support systems, damage, etc.”

Nara was concentrating. Which was harder now. In her mind, she mocked Dhani, ~Blah blah blah BLAH~!~

***

"Don't forget O'Sheas' request for extra Field Modulators and Pattern Enhancers..." Michael updated his personal padd while standing next to the Operations station. He finished his shift and was relieved by Lt. Bartlett. "Cameron?" He lifted his look towards Bartlett.

"Don't worry about it Mike, I'll remind Tarin once I see her" Cameron replied.

"What's that?" Jamson continued to hassle the lieutenant by pointing at a blinking button at the console.

"Mike...just go and get some rest! You’re done, it's MY shift now" Bartlett smiled. Michael returned the favour by staring back at him ferociously, causing Cameron to lose his smile and sigh heavily "Fine...we'll do it your way".

***

“We scan at different angles to avoid detection,” Dhani said imparting some protocols to the young Quentite, “It is standard protocol to use this method when charting unknown territory, and occasions like this where there is no telling who’s around or what has happened.”

Nara frowned, "Nothing so far." She kept trying, wanting to pick the console up and toss it.

Turan followed every move. He tried to get a clue what they were doing. He tried to understand what the two engineers expected to happen.

***

With his fingers quickly tapping the main operations console, Cameron sighed once again "Someone is performing scans... wide beam bursts".

"That's odd...no one has scheduled the usage of the long or short range sensors in the next the couple of hours" Michael looked at the console trying to understand who was using the sensors. He then searched through his personal padd to see any records regarding sensors at this specific time. "What about Science?" Bartlett asked. "No...They’re not supposed to use any of the sensors or the deflector dish for the next 5 hours" Jamson replied and then turned around looking up, behind him.

"What?" Cameron followed and inquired.

"Such scans can only be conducted from Engineering...and the Bridge" Michael searched for the operations console at the science station, right behind the tactical station, to the left of the engineering station.

"Oh...." Lieutenant Bartlett said, as both he and Michael found what, or who to be exact, they were looking for.

Dhani stood up and gestured for Turan to take her place. The only way to learn after all was to do it yourself. Being told never helped, unless you put what you were told into practice.

The giant Quentite sat down on the Operations stool. The position he found himself in wasn't really ergonomic. Meanwhile he was used to work with tools or at consoles designed from humanoids he over towered by two heads. Even with the stool adjusted to the lowest setting he wasn't able to find a comfortable arrangement. For the moment all that didn't count. He was on the bridge and with his hands just a few centimetres away from the console he suddenly felt important. His heart started pounding, he grew nervous. With an asking look, he turned around to face Dhani. Then he turned back to the console which flashing touch screen controls seemed to laugh at him.

Standing behind him she leaned over and directed his hand to the panel. “This is the scans, and this is the results.” She said pointing it out as Nara read them out. She could feel his breath on her neck as she leaned across him. For a moment she remembered what it was like to be in his arms, back on the sandy, empty plains of Quintet. Her eyes stared at the panel as she pushed her memories away, this was not the time to be reminiscing about *that* time. In fact there was never going to be a time when she wanted to reminisce about what happened then. It made her feel physically nauseous.

Slowly, Turan's fingers touched the cold glass like surface. Instantly, the flashing lights moved towards his fingers forming four parallel bar graphs.

Standing upright Dhani nodded at the results, they were as she expected. Useless! “On to the narrow beams.” Dhani said flatly.

Nara narrowed her eyes at the display and pressed the buttons quite forcefully. "Well let's see what this does." Nara narrowed the scan down to search for carbon.

Dhani watched her from behind closely, critically. She cringed as Nara almost punched her frustrations out on the panel. Taking a deep restraining breath Dhani turned her attention to Turan, “Right now we are using narrow beam through the sensors, and requesting for the computer to scan for specifics, one at a time. To try and break through the interference...” Dhani felt a running commentary for a Teran football game! She watched the results as they blinked up on Naras screen. One down, Dhani counted off in her head.

Looking back at the ‘boy’ she smiled, “Any suggestions?” she asked, probing him for input. Dhani hadn’t actively trained anyone before, not like this at least. She had sole responsibility for Turan, his actions and mistakes. It was a lot to take on, but she felt responsible for him in some twisted way, and not just in engineering. She felt responsible for him being on the ship for the things that happened to him, that he had seemed to forgotten… things that she could not.

Turan thought for a moment then answered "We could use a beam oscilated with a repeating pattern carrier. The reflection we receive should contain the same carrier with slight changes by the objects the beam touched. If a copy of the sent carrier pattern stream is subtracted from the reflected beam we gain an image much less affected by background radiation or similar influences."

Dhani smiled widely, “You have been studying!” she commentated grinning. She was very pleased with her student, “So, if we remodulate the…”

Nara turned and looked at her, "Why are you narrating?"

Dhani’s eyes narrowed on Naras skull, her smile faded in a split second. She took in a deep exaggerated breath before replying, “I thought that would be obvious to you Lieutenant.” She said clipped, but filled in the blanks; it was obvious that Nara neither had the skill or the common sense! “Turan, here, is a trainee in the Engineering department. He is unfamiliar with our systems, not having the privilege of a Starfleet background or influence on his world, all our technology is new to him, and there for needs explaining.” She cast an eye to him for a second, remembering his version of a tool kit, as she remembered it was incredibly primitive, but quite versatile for what it was used for, after all they were still in the early design stages for warp drive. It was there for not expected that they hadn’t advanced beyond chisels, plains and screw drivers!

“Next,” Dhani opted not to add the word ‘stupid’ in the middle of this sentence, after all, they were on the bridge, “question?” she tried hard not to hiss or spit the word at Nara. She really was irritating.

Nara looked at him and back at Dhani, "A crisis is hardly the time for a training session!" Not a question, but her brain was screaming with pain and she didn't have time to care.

“The ship is not in immediate danger.” Dhani replied calmly, “And if you listened at all to your commanding officer you would have heard her assign Trelar to me, and I will oversee his training and if you have any problems with that I suggest you take it up with someone who gives a dam!” Dhani said harshly. She was opting for a slightly more delicate and professional conclusion to that sentence but Nara was really pushing it now. How dare she comment on her training of Turan? They couldn’t do the scans any faster. There was no harm in explaining things as they went along. Dhani seethed with anger but tied not to show it. This woman…. If she could just…. And she would love to just…. And she could just…… but she shouldn’t. It wasn’t allowed to, but Nara could just drop dead, it did happen, happed a lot, all the time…

Nara glared at her, "Fine. Narrate." She turned sharply. She had enough sense to not be yelled at by O'Shea again. Though, she preferred if some trainee weren't here. Especially that looked like he could snap her in two. She looked at Turan, "You. Don't touch me." She looked back at the console and began scanning again after re-adjusting the settings.

Dhani stepped forward to say something, but held her tongue, Turan could hold his own.

Dhani paced behind them for a while as Nara continued with the scans. Her mind racing through hypothesises, analysing them, rejecting them as she came to their conclusions.

“The pallets!” Dhani exclaimed suddenly, “The sensor pallets are located inside shallow inserts on the ships hull. They are protected from the space environment by hafnium durandie antiradiation coating. It is possible that some of the front pallets are overwhelmed or bombarded by radiation, or something. That could be why the scans aren’t performing to specifications.” Dhanis eyes lit up, “That could be the source of the interference….” She leaned over Turan and ran a diagnostic of the sensors.

Nara jerked away at the sudden appearance of Dhani. A slight growl escaped her lips, but she looked at what Dhani was doing. As if the new information overcame the struggle in her mind, her eyes focused. Her mind was still struggling, but she was grasping the concept. She closed her mind and spoke, "SOP rotation."

“Exactly!” Dhani replied, the sensors work on a triple redundant rotation. Two on one off and so on. So that means that we still have some eyes out there, just not as many as we should.” She straightened her self and pondered for a moment, “What could cause the sensors to stop working?” Dhani wondered out loud. She didn’t notice the Lieutenant as he walked up behind them.

Michael walked slowly in the direction of the 3 rascals, his arms crossed behind his back; still holding the padd. Not alerting the Operations department on the allocation of resources wasn't new, there was an ongoing war between Ops and the rest of the departments. In one word; chaos. In the last mission, Operations was short handed in terms of manpower, which led to all the other departments 'breaking' the rule of scheduling resources through operations, and taking what they wanted. This led to a huge catastrophe. Lately, after a long discussion with Lieutenant Iniara, Commander Henderson and even the Captain himself, ordered everyone to straight things out with Operations and let them know first what they needed, just as it should be.

"Hmmmmm......." Michael mumbled, "Ladies..." These two were not getting along, Michael was an outsider and still could instantly see what was going on. "I'd love to know what you three are doing here...?" Michael asked with a fake surprise on his face.

Dhani quickly brought the Lieutenant up to speed on the situation and awaited his input. A plan already formulating in her mind.

"You should have only asked...no one is scheduled to use the sensors right now. We would have, I actually, would have gladly approved your request...through the proper channels or by a personal appeal" Michael said. "Since you've already started, I won't disturb your scans, but consider yourselves lucky!" Michael pointed his finger in a blaming manner.

Dhani was about to ‘retaliate’ in a manor of speaking, they didn’t have the time to order a booking and schedule a time to use the ships sensors. They were addressing the problem that the earlier scans had, as in they picked up nothing, and so there for she had to go and sort them out. Fix them, because that was after all her job. And she didn’t organise when she was gonna turn up and do her job, she just did it. And usually no one was the wiser, no one noticed or cared enough to say thank you, just whinge when something wasn’t fixed according to there time schedule. As it was Dhani let his comments slide and tried not to boar a hole in his skull with her eyes.

Nara had turned to glare at the man, "Apparently, no one sees the urgency of the situation."

Dhani didn’t need to say anything after all, Nara was like having a pit bull at your feet, she was always biting someone’s ankles!

"Now...as for your plan......." Jamson continued.

"Shadows" - Part 1

Commander Cassius Henderson, Executive Officer
Strategic Operations Officer: Hydran Sector
Handler: Starfleet Intelligence

Lieutenant JG Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer

Lieutenant JG Victor Krieghoff, Security Patrol

Lieutenant JG Naranda Roswell, Engineer

Ensign Kio, Medical Officer

****

Main Airlock,
Deck 1,
Deep Space Five

The runabout Malawi settled to rest on the hull of Deep Space Five.

Cass Henderson's scowl hadn't disappeared at any point during the shuttle ride. The whole situation sat poorly with him. From the ion storm that had just cut off communication with Starfleet to being overruled by Admiral Proctor and forced to suspend his investigation, it all just struck him as being completely out of the ordinary. It was almost as if there was something else at work that he couldn't see or feel.

He could hear it, though.

From the moment that he'd piloted the Malawi out of the shuttle bay, there had been something affecting him. He'd seem too many strange things over his years in space to just dismiss it. Whether it was phantom whispers at the edge of his conscious mind or shadows in his peripheral vision, he knew something was wrong

He just wasn't sure what, or how to fix it.

Cass had never exhibited any signs of being a full blown telepath, but he'd scored high on ESP and empathy tests at the Academy. Those same scores and social intuitions that had gotten him into Starfleet Intelligence now haunted him, especially as they got docked with the topside airlock of the station.

Places that are heavily traveled by the Milky Way's myriad peoples have established mental 'footprints'. Highly trained telepaths can pick up on them, and they can tell a lot about the general emotional feel of a place. Usually they weren't strong enough Cass' limited empathy to pick up on.

Deep Space Five was different.

The closer they'd gotten the worse it was. A feeling of overwhelming gloom, anger, bitterness, and finally death. He couldn't say for sure, but if his intuition was right, the crew of Deep Space Five had died horrible, painful deaths.

~And that kind of thinking isn't going to help you right now,~ he thought as he locked out the controls of the shuttle. He'd connected the bottom hatch to the airlock, and they were ready to depart. After one long glace at the graceful hull of the Galaxy, serene in the middle of the ion storm, he pushed himself out of the pilot's chair and stepped back into the main part of the shuttle where his team was waiting.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Deep Space Five," he laughed, though the sound was hollow and grim. "You all know that our objective is to gain access to the station's Command & Control Centre, located two decks down. You all know the plan. Victor's on point. I'm after him. Kio and Naranda are in the middle, and Cora's bringing up the back. We move single file and slowly."

"But you know that, so what I really want to hear from you right now is how you're feeling?" he said, sitting down next to Cora. He needed to reassure his team before they went in.

They all needed some reassurance but Commander Henderson's speech didn't do anything to alleviate that growing feeling of uneasiness within Cora. It was different this time very different and she couldn't explain why. However Cora's fate and acceptance to Starfleet Intelligence had been sealed many years before. Her ratings for all the appropriate telepathic factors such as ESP and empathy caught the attention of key individuals within the Intelligence community. Though Lt Dobryin herself was never privy to the exact results, they sealed her destiny.

Victor frowned from his position by the shuttle's rear doors. He'd felt it as soon as the station came into sight, and it had done nothing but get worse as they'd moved closer. Death. Many deaths. Not so many that the feeling could fill up the emptiness inside him, but enough that he could feel it. "People died here," he offered tonelessly. He looked at the rest of the group for a moment, remembering the last patrol he'd been a part of, the way Ahdjiia D'Tinya-Bolivar had died, and added, "None of you have permission to die here. Remember that."

Cass nodded, unquestioning. He'd been in orbit when Ahdjiia had died, and listened to the conversation. He wasn't one to believe in superstition or mysticism, but he did understand that Victor Krieghoff had the ability to inspire. Whether it was fear, hope, or the strength to live to the completion of a mission, Krieghoff had that ability.

"What do you mean?' someone asked quietly enough that it was difficult to determine who it had been.

"Because I won't give you permission to," he answered calmly, as if those words explained everything perfectly so that a child could understand them. He turned back to the hatch and frowned again. "We shouldn't waste time on the way. The longer we take, the greater the chance that whatever killed them will find us."

The words offered no comfort to Nara . She looked at Kio. She trembled from the struggle not to attack the woman who had rendered her unconscious earlier. She then looked at the commander and nodded. Her jaw so tense, she felt it best to talk to try to loosen it, "I'm able to do my duty, sir." Nara was still as tired as she was when on the ship, if not more so. But there was so much emotional restlessness; she knew she could at least stay awake.

It seemed that the formidable Lieutenant Krieghoff was flexing his muscles again. His comment did little to soothe Kio's apprehensions about the away mission, it seemed absurd to her logical mind that he felt able to give or deny permission for her to die. But she felt respect for the man, even acknowledging to her-self that of all of them it would most likely be he that could save a life if it came to brute force or sheer use of mental control. The man might have made a good Vulcan, so lacking was he in emotion.

The woman, Lieutenant Rowell appeared to be glaring at her, a facial expression Kio was by now becoming used to. She wondered how long it would be before Nara lost control again; if perhaps she her-self would become rabid with primitives emotions once more? The thought made her feel indescribably weary. But even so she did her part in answering Commander Henderson.

"I concur with the Lieutenant, it seems likely that many have died here and that we are entering grave danger in boarding the station." She opened her medi-kit and held up the small collar-like device which winked green and blue lights at her crewmates.

"I am equipped with the improved neural repressors we have been working on in sickbay and I would ask that if any of you notice a lapse in your emotional control...greater than is usual for your species, that you alert me to your situation." She manipulated the devise so that only one light showed.

"Agreed," Cass replied. "Nara, if you feel any loss of control, you're to report it immediately."

Nara narrowed her eyes not wanting to admit any weakness to this woman.

"At present they are set to a tolerable level but this may need to be increased momentarily should you experience difficulty, but cannot be allowed to endure longer than ten seconds or the brain stem may begin to degrade. Unfortunately we have been unable to produce a method for controlling the devise remotely in the short space of time we had to complete the assembly; I will have to manually activate and deactivate any increases we may need to make."

"If any of you are not yet equipped with this devise please allow me to attach one before we disembark." She addressed this most particularly to Lieutenant Roswell; it was difficult to ignore the woman's state of mind. Kio doubted that Krieghoff was going to require any help, if anything broke through the metaphoric 3 inch layer of ice about his mind she doubted she could get near enough to him to do anything about it. She turned to Commander Henderson, waiting for him to respond to her suggestion.

Nara clenched her fist, but tried to remain calm as she responded, "That's unnecessary." Just then, it felt as if something hit her hard. She shut her eyes tight and lurched forward. The pain in her head increased as she tried to maintain control so that Vulcan wouldn't treat her. For all she knew, the Vulcan very well planned to kill them, not treat them. She spoke again through a tight jaw, "Just leave us be and maybe you'll go unharmed. MAYBE." Nara put her hand to her head. She imagined her brain would explode any moment. ~Just let go.~ She heard herself say. The trembling increased. Deep, deep down, she wanted the device. She couldn't win this fight, but part of her didn't want to lose.

"Roswell!" Cass snapped, immediately. He couldn't very well leave her here or send her back, so she was going to have to remain with the team.

Kio decided that treating Nara was VERY necessary at that juncture and seeing the woman temporarily distracted by an internal war with her emotions, something Kio could well appreciate, she looked to the Commander. "Lieutenant Roswell is unwell, perhaps you might assist me in administrating the new devise? I do not believe that she will otherwise be able to join the away team."

"Of course," he said, and took a step toward Nara. "Lieutenant Roswell, you're coming with us, and the only way for that to happen is to accept one of the neural repressors. No other way."

Nara tried to stand to prove a point she couldn't, "I'm fine." The point being disproven by the fact she still hadn't opened her eyes, the look of pain and struggle clear on her face, and the fact she was still pretty much doubled over and leaning on the side of the vessel.

"No, I don't think you are. That's an order, Roswell," the executive officer clarified. His tone implied that it wasn't open to discussion.

Despite the threatening words Nara had used, Kio felt no answering anger within her and was thankful that for now the medical devise was working.

The unpleasant side effect of the neural inhibitor, resulting in Vulcans also losing their normal mental disciplines, had not yet caused her much distress; it made her more inclined to curl up and cry than rip off anyone's head. Not that she would ever admit this, she was a long way from the place she had been before. Even so, the insane clamoring had grown in volume since arriving station side and her heart was full of dread.

The engineer's eyes looked straight at Kio again. The same glare, but most of the struggle was gone. "I won't let you administer anything to me." She then pulled back a fist as if to hit Kio.

Kio had no wish to enter into another fight; she was not completely confident of her own self control and certainly didn't feel like testing it. The fist that was raised to hit her seemed to take a long time to move as Nara was not in peak physical condition and even if she had been, Kio's Vulcan reflexes and training would have been more than sufficient to allow her to avoid the attack. As it was she needed to do little more than slide off of the seat and allow the woman to fall into the vacant space. Her instinct was to once more reach for her neck and subdue her with a simple pinch but she did not. Instead she stepped back and allowed Victor to take over.

The fist, not hitting its target, kept its momentum, taking Nara with it. Her knees hit the seat and she found herself kneeling over it. She tried to stand herself up, fully intending to land a fist, foot, or even teeth into the Vulcan.

Kio was loathe to so much as touch Nara 's flesh. Whatever infested her mind was coming for Kio, coming for them all, and she wanted to keep her distance for as long as was possible. In addition she had seen something in Nara 's eyes, a ghost of the true person within, it seemed lost and asking for forgiveness for the actions of her body. It deeply unsettled the Vulcan and it was all she could do to keep her own composure.

"Krieghoff," Cass frowned, moving aside. There was something about the Lieutenant that made him not want to touch her any more than the Vulcan. The security man, he knew, would have no such qualms. "Assist Ensign Kio in administering the neural repression collar."

Victor turned back without a word, dropped his rifle so that it hung by the sling, and reached out to grasp Nara by the collar and jerk her up to her feet as he spun her around so that she was facing him and had her back to the Vulcan medical officer, who stood, waiting with the inhibitor collar in hand. He slapped aside an awkward blow, shifted his grip, and caught her chin, tilting her head so that she was looking into his face. "Stop fighting, Lieutenant," he said softly, the words almost, but not quiet, sounding like they were spoken by someone else using his lips. He met Nara 's gaze, his pale blue eyes meeting and holding hers. "I don't have a reason to want to hurt you, and you don't want to give me one, do you?"

Nara wanted to fight, but the fear prevented that. In the back of her mind, she remembered he once warned her about touching. Seemed he was right. Her mind wanted to fight, but all her body did was stand tense and frozen in his grip.

Kio stepped primly forward and snapped the collar onto her proffered neck. She was careful not to meet Nara's eye, there must be no more fighting. Not now when they could still *try*.

The fear gripped Nara and seemed to drain life. Something else was fading. She gulped and whimpered, "Please let me go."

Victor spoke without breaking eye contact with Nara. "Is the device attached and functioning properly, Ensign?"

Kio manipulated the collar until only one green light was flashing before she nodded an affirmative.

Nara felt something return. Something similar to sanity. Sanity with a huge black cloud over it. Yet there was the fear, but she figured that because Death himself had her by the chin.

With a nod, Victor blinked once, breaking eye contact with Nara as he did so. He straightened up and released her. "Are you all right, Lieutenant?" he asked her tonelessly.

Without answering, Nara looked around for her Engineering Kit. Then she realized no answer could well mean insubordination, so she let out a weak, "Sufficient for duty, sir."

She avoided faces as she caught view of the Kit. Silently, with head down, she moved toward it, pulled the strap over her head and stood waiting for the door to open. She didn't answer before, because, no, she was not alright. She was humiliated to the core and just wanted to get to work as it was no option to go back.

Kio, satisfied that Nara was now under control turned to face the Commander waiting for his order to embark.

The warble of Victor's tricorder interrupted the silence. "Nothing immediately on the other side of the hatch, sir." He slipped the device back into the holster at his waist and shifted the grip in his rifle. "Permission to open hatch, sir?. I suggest you let me clear the adjacent chamber before anyone else exists the shuttle. There might be something the tricorder isn't calibrated for waiting for us." Which might, Victor supposed, provide enough excitement that he could actually feel something for a few seconds.

"Granted. Let's get this over with so we can all go home," Cass replied, and stepped in behind Kreighoff to enter the burned out ruin of a starbase.

"The Ghost and the Darkness" (Part I)

SCOUTING TEAM 2:

First Lieutenant T'Shani [Matt]
Lieutenant Ella Grey [Mekela]
Lieutenant JG Cain Forrester [Andrew]
Lieutenant JG Jack Slen [APC: Andrew]
Pilot Ember Lansky [Serene]
Ensign Nieca Rey'ol [Laura C.]

== DS5: Central Hub, Section 11 ==

First Lieutenant T'Shani a'Akledorian was the last one down the hatch that connected the shuttle Narragansett to DS5's Docking Port 14 on the inner ring. Control had just radioed to them that an ion storm--of all things--was now between the Galaxy and DS5, negating even an emergency beam-out. The best they'd be able to do would to beam back to the Narragansett, if something were to happen. After Mirusa VI, T'Shani a'Akledorian didn't want *anything* to happen, at all.

Upon setting foot on the heavy deck plates, the Andorian shen looked around, taking in the darkness, and the acrid smell of burnt electrical insulation and plasma relays.

Tish's antennas twitched in short little spasms as she smelled something else...

Blood.

Although each species' blood smelled different, all types had one thing in common, a metallic tinge (whether iron-based--human--or copper-based--Vulcan) that sat at the edge of the heavier, duller smell of the blood's plasma. Not many could smell it. But she could. She *knew* the smell of blood. She had had too much of it on her hands, not too.

Turning back to the assembled group, T'Shani wondered why in Thori's Universe she had been assigned *this* detail. Pressing both antennas back against her scalp momentarily, she addressed the group: "Everyone stick tight and stay aware. Weapons on heavy stun only. Do not engage unless first engaged. We are tasked with bringing the central computer core back online as our primary objective. Secondary objectives include searching for survivors, if any, and assessing structural damage. Clear?" The Andorian marine woman spoke clearly and succinctly as she stood in front of the group in her tactical 'skull suit'.

Truthfully, T'Shani would have felt much more comfortable if Captain M'Kantu had authorized the Furies to go in and handle everything. But this was his--and the XO's--call to make. She hoped that she wouldn't have to end up babysitting this bunch. She was especially concerned with the mousy engineer, Grey. Eying each of them, she then smartly turned on her heel, raised her BR55 rifle, and clicked on it's light. She swept the beam left, then right, then center, then moved off into the pitch blackness of DS5's lower corridors.

Ella's grip tightened around her phaser. They'd barely even seen any of the station yet and there was already a feeling of uneasiness playing peek-a-boo with her nerves. If it were not for the core, which would be her task for this little outing, she probably would have opted to return to the ship.

Nieca's dark eyes merely shifted from each member of the team, in times such as these it was crucial to evaluate each member for their strengths and weaknesses. The mute and childlike engineer was already fearful while the sniveling scientist and his mechanical arm appeared to loath the current mission. The pilot seemed to be nothing more then a thrill seeker, a personality trait that always irked the Caitian, these extroverted daredevils often acted this way to distract from their oft insides.

The medic was also cocksure, a common attitude among medical officers... but then again the power to save a life was far more skillful then that of taking. And it was obvious to everyone that the Marine didn't want to be there. But with the lack of skill this bunch possessed she didn't blame her. The Andorian was the only other member, besides Nieca, to hold any ribbons for combat skills.

It was at this time that she realized how sore she was going to be the next morning.

Tish glanced back to the group for a moment, then assessed her TEDD. "This way," she pointed down a long, curving corridor that was pitch-black, like the one they had just come from. "Scanners show that we're going to have to hotfoot it down to the core," Tish informed the rest of the lot, "So we'll take this junction to Section 4, then a straight shot to Maintenance Access 47-A. That should take us right into the core." She turned back front, scanning the hallway ahead with both her light, her eyes, and the TEDD's sensor suite.

Ember glanced at the other members of the away team. This was her very first away mission and she was thrust with strangers - people whom she would likely work with again in the future. Subconsciously, she was aware of the stakes that played into her performance this time, determining whether she was going to screw up and end up permanently labeled as a impetuous, impulsive hothead for life.

But if she was worried, she didn't display it, because she was confident and alert as she gripped her phaser and began a survey of their immediate surroundings, watching out for the slightest movement.

"Fine then, let's move out," Tish said. "Let's get this over with, and get the Admiral her station back." She moved out into the darkened junction.

-------- Later... --------

Ella's hand was now gripping the phaser so tightly that her hand was throbbing. Ella frowned slightly as she kept moving forward, her eyes scanning for anything nasty that might pop out at them. So far there had been nothing and that was the problem. What had *happened* to everyone here, she wondered. But then again, maybe she didn't want to know.

Whatever the case, Ella thought, I better not end up suspended over a pit of flames again.

"This sucks. I was working on something important!" Cain muttered.

Jack heard. "What? Playing 'Video Games' and eating pizza while writing a half-assed report on the Galaxy which has already been written several times?" He was still highly irritated for whatever bizarre reason. He also continually watched over his shoulder.

"What are you afraid of? I figured with your stunning personality you'd have been shot by a crew member by now!" Cain quickly shot back.

Slen grew an Evil grin. "I know what it is, You're a coward!"

Cain turned around a looked right at Slen. "Do what I did me to cost you your natural arm, then call me a coward..." Cain then turned to T'shani. "Hey...Uh..Si-Si-Sir? Would it matter if I shot him? We could say he was killed in action."

Jack wasn't sure if Cain was joking or not, and doubted anyone else did either.

"I think it would be far better to focus than to get distracted by petty squabbles," Ember interjected, sounding as irritated as she felt. This was why she preferred flying solo, without the need to worry about being pulled under by people around her. "Your life may well depend on it." Once the words were out of her mouth, there was no way to take them back. Fine, they would think her to be stuck-up and stuffy now, but in the end, they would thank her for the advice. Or not. As long as she could work in peace.

As tensions began to ease among the team, loose lips and stupid words began to fly.

Nieca's tail merely twitched and skipped in annoyance. When people became relaxed enough to speak was normally the time when someone got shot. Because of their crew's inexperience, she just bit her tongue and heightened her own watch of the halls as they walked towards the computer core... she would pick up the slack, like always.

Tish sighed, then quickly whirled back to the group, the bright halide glare of her rifle's search beacon shining directly into Slen's--and then Forrester's--eyes. "*Both* of you stow it now, or I'll set this thing to narrow-beam, and cut your tongues out and feed it to an Andorian Blood Spider." The tone in her voice made it clear that it was not a joke, neither a suggestion. Once again, she turned front and center, and moved down the hallway.

The Caitian held her tricorder gently, nervous gripping of the tool often caused the hand to cramp in times of need. Rey'ol merely lectured herself over proper, focused procedure as she walked, it was something she often did in times of tension.

And then she saw it again.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught the brief glimpse of a dancing shadow.

She paused once more and stared down the hall that the movement had sprung from, but like every other time... it was nothing more than a phantom. Her large ears pinned themselves against her head as she angrily doubted her instincts.

Cain noticed and scanned. "Well, this tricorder ain't picking up shit, so either there's nothing there, or It can resist my scans." He fumbled for his phaser. "You know what, I hate this even more. I escaped a Cardassian death camp...just to be killed on a Federation Station."

He then had a thought and started scanning again....then stopped, seeming disappointed. "Well, I'm not seeing any particles associated with events of a Temporal nature."

"When a gut feeling that has kept you alive begins to twist inside of you, that becomes more then enough proof..." she waved a well manicured hand through the air in disregard.

"But I digressss..." Nieca noted her hiss of the 's' it was an aspect of her accent that she had long learned to avoid, yet it strangely slipped for the first time in years.

"There is no proof of tangible danger, as of yet, therefore I cannot say that we are in any."

"Nieca, dear," the tough voice of the Andorian Lieutenant called back to them, "Kindly shut the scientist up. He's scaring the kiddies," she shot a look at Forrester, and wondered why in the world she was stuck with such a jackass. He literally *was* scaring the white shit out of Lieutenant Grey, or so it looked by the wide-eyed, ashen-faced pallor that had affixed itself to the mute's face. Tish couldn't help but smile a little as Forrester visible tensed as the Caitian woman's hand--claws slightly extended--solidly grasped Cain's shoulder.

"Rhooz," Tish murmured under her breath, her antennas arching forward and wide in annoyance. Glancing into her TEDD eyepiece, she noted that they were standing directly in front of Maintenance Access 47-B. Stepping forward, she released the oversized hatch with the click of two levers on either side of the hatch's frame.

Pulling it off, she set it to the side, scanned the interior, and then pulled a small, black, cylindrical stick from her utility belt. Twisting the transclear cap on top, the stick immediately lit from the other end, emitting both a pungent smoke and a bright, green phosphorescent glow. Tish reached her arm inside the access way, then dropped the flare, it's tiny parachute puffing out of the transclear cap moments after she released it, lighting the long, deep, and cramped vertical tube and ladder.

~What was that?!~ her mind raced as T'Shani thought she had seen something in the corner of her eye. Wildly, her antenna's arced around her head, bending and twisting to sense her area around her, but all she could sense was the other five individuals of Team 2.

But she could have sworn that her *eyes* had seen something... Something not quite natural, the way the shadows shifted in the green flare's light; the way they swirled around it, like smoke swirling after something dropped.

Like the darkness was alive...

~Nonsense...~ The Marine shrugged it off while quelling the vivid memory of hiding in that awful, black cave on Seltax VII, when the Greenbloods had come...

She shook her head to erase the image, and focus again on what lay ahead. Or in this case: below.

Checking her TEDD one more time, she motioned down with her thumb. "Allright team. The Eagle *has* landed. Now let's go walk on the moon," she said, trying to ease some of the tension with the reference to ancient Terran history.

Little did T'Shani a'Akledorian know how apt her analogy would be...

"An Illogical Liaison"
By Commander James Lionel Corgan
Chief of Security, USS Galaxy
And Lieutenant jg T'lan
Security Deputy, USS Galaxy

Location: Security, Locker Room, USS Galaxy

At the Galaxy's security department locker room, James felt exhausted.

Physically, he felt fine. Better than fine. The adrenaline still coursing through his veins from the last mission perked up his body, giving it an anxious energy that, when forced to stay still and be idle, bottled itself up and converted into more stress. Restlessness, James called it, restless like a stalking beast.

On his emotional side, he was frazzled, and the restlessness that was growing to its peak only exasperated his mood. The excursion to the space station left a lot of questions unanswered, and none of them he had a clue to find out. He saw on the station a ghost town, abandoned of its inhabitants and with no answers to give. He saw the dead, savaged well beyond the imagination of a civilized killer. Then, the structure, the biggest mystery of the place, he saw the opulence of an unknown civilization, and apparently on the heresay of the ESPers of his away team, ghosts as well.

The big mystery twisted in his mind, but even he knew that thinking alone wasn't going to solve his problems. An unknown presence attacked the psychics of his party, and he didn't know what to do. It was at this loss that he had to retreat and think of another plan.

Retreat? He didn't remember the last time he cut and run. A tactical withdrawal, falling back, but a full out retreat from the unknown? He was at a loss of words, for this was his first real retreat in a long time.

One of his reasons for the retreat was at his side, acting as if unperturbed by the past events.

Lieutenant jg T'lan, a Vulcan statue if he ever saw one, was with him in the lockerroom as they put away their gear. At the structure her Vulcan emotionlessness cracked and then shattered, giving away to panic as she warned of a 'presence' attacking her. Once they left, she came back to being the emotionless pillar of strength, as if the attack never even happened. He would admire her strength of will... if he wasn't suspicious of her rapid recovery.

"Lieutenant." James ventured to ask, "Are you sure you are ok?"

She responded, confident, as if there was no doubt in her mind and anyone else's, "I am well, Commander. The presence that attacked me did no lasting harm. I now have control over my mental self. There is no need to be concerned about my state of well being, James."

James lifted his brow. He was taken aback by T'lan's informality. A Vulcan using a person's first name instead of a rank was out of place, "Maybe now, but you have been the victim of certain mental attacks. I'm still not convince you have recovered from the last time. You still have my memory, don't you?"

T'lan gave James a thoughtful look. She stripped off her overcoat, placing it in the locker. "I have your memory of the Battle of Sector 001 still in me, James. It is... disturbing, but manageable. Unlike you humans, we Vulcans can examine trauma, separate it, observe it."

James countered, "But you Vulcans are still vulnerable to trauma. That's why I ask."

T'lan nodded, "I couldn't agree more, Commander. Though the initial shock of a traumatic memory may take us by surprise since we are unused to emotional fright, any damage that is done is done during the inception of that memory. Long term effects are determined there and then. If there are no long term effects, then the memory is easily managed."

"So, there are no long term affects?"

T'lan paused, "None that dehabilitate me, James."

Corgan nodded and grinned, "So you are ok, even now?"

"Even now. My defences were tested strenuously, but held firm. My mental well being is intact."

James had his uniform stripped off, wearing only his standard greys; grey tank top and grey, skintight boxers. Folding his Hazard Team suit and procuring his neatly folded security uniform he then closed his locker. The ship's environmentally controlled air felt cool on his skin, running up his bare shoulders and arms that depicted angels and demons in tattooed flesh, fighting a war out of revelations. He slipped off his glasses and tucked them his folded uniform's pocket, then walked to the sonic shower stalls. Half naked, James had a wiry frame of a spaceborne man; slimly muscled and toned and slightly tall, lean, hungry, and slightly feral despite the civility on his face.

~"I need a shower to cool my nerves."~ James grumbled to himself with an exhausted sigh. His mind was burned out. Sonic showers sometimes helped bring back his nerve. The excursion into DS5 was a physically demanding, sweaty affair. He stepped into the sonic shower, stripping off his underwear and shirt, and turned the shower to extra shrill.

"Commander?"

Peeping over the shower stall, James said, "Yes?"

T'lan, in the middle of peeling off her Hazard Uniform, said, "I appreciate your concern for my well being."

"Ummmm..." James smiled, "No problem. Just doing my job." He turned his attention back to the sonic shower, "Have to look out for my deputies. Computer, start audio log."

The Vulcan security officer removed her Hazard Uniform, meticulously putting away her gear. She stripped to her underwear, and even doffed her sweat stained undergarments in favour of flushed green skin. Her body, slightly rippling with muscles honed by hours of security officer exercises and sensually curved and toned light caucasian with a saffron meet cinnamon hue, moved in a fluid, predatory motion to the sonic showers.

James didn't know T'lan was moving towards him, naked and purposeful.

"Chief Security Officer's log, supplemental." James said under the hum of the sonic shower, relaxing as the sound waves cleansed him, the buzzing masking T'lan's quiet footfalls, "I have just come back from an excursion to DS5. Forgive me if this log has no visual function, but I am in the shower and as soon as I'm out I'll be busy as f**k. There are still unanswered questions about DS5 and I had to blow off my girlfriend again. One is going to take a hell of a lot of cunning, some groundwork, and some investigation before I can come closer again. The other is a space station. Both prospects are grim with a success factor too negligible to calculate."

T'lan crept stealthily to his shower. He kept on with his audio log. "The station started out with no power, and many casualties. A full tally should be ready in the morning. Casualties on the station were... gruesome. Some conventional deaths, some mutilations, none of it is pleasant. But the real mystery here involves an unknown structure attached to docking bay 7. It is a structure... fixed within an asteroid. It is full of artworks, statues, murals, jewels... it is a xeno-archaeological treasure trove inside."

As James spoke, T'lan crept closer. She was beside the sonic shower stall, and there she waited, tensing as if anxious. James continued to speak. "We went into the structure. Minutes later the psychic members of our away team complained of uneasiness. They were complaining about it before, but their feelings intensified when we went inside. It came to the point where their distress became... alarming. We had to pull out. If I were to call this anything, I would call it an unclassified, unknown threat... most definitely hostile by our psykers reactions. I made the decision to pull out not just because of what was happening to our away team, but because I had no adequate response. I could not see it, could not sense it, and any identification from Major Corran, Lieutenant Commander O'Shea and Lieutenant junior grade T'lan did not help to identify the threat. I am going to comb over the database for any similar instances. As for now, I have ordered the erection of forcefields a t the structure's entrances. Any archaeological studies and other forays into the structure should be forewarned about the unknown phenomena inside. I will send my report to the captain, as well as a warning to the Engineering and Science departments as soon as possible. It is my opinion that my security department, maybe even this ship, doesn't have the expertise to deal with this. We may have to ask for help outside this ship, maybe the ParaPsi Investigations Unit from Earth, or an AntiPsi from Talos 5. End log."

He finished with a sigh, "Computer, turn down the shrill setting on the sonic shower. Increase muscle relaxant frequencies. Make it more... firm. Thank you."

The sonic shower pitched a lower, but thicker tone. The sound waved kneaded and relaxed his muscles, melting his tension away. He sighed contently. A sonic shower, a common starship luxury, was well appreciated on a day like his.

~"How the hell am I going to tell Mika?"~ James groaned as the sonic shower hit a tight knot. He had yet to confront his girlfriend about the dangers of being a security officer's woman. There were the long hours, the infrequent emergencies that could come at any time, constantly being on call, death's scythe hovering over his head without a day off. Being a Starfleet officer wasn't easy. The significant other of one? A trial of pins and needles. It had occurred to James that this was Mika's first taste of what his duties did to wreck his personal life.

Then again, he had dated nothing but Starfleet officers (two in fact, and almost a third, also a Starfleet officer). This was his first experience of non-Starfleet women, and he didn't expect anyone outside Starfleet to understand the demands a Starfleet career asked.

~"Then its settled."~ James resolved to himself, satisfied and smug to find the answer so easily, ~"I'll have to do my job today. Then i'll make the next date extra special. Get her a gift, let her be in control. Hmmm wonder if it's Ladies Night at Ten Forward?"~

The shower stall creaked, alerting James to someone else's presence. He was about to turn around, but was beset by hands. They caressed his chest lightly, stroking along his angelic tattoos and battle scars. Then he felt a body lean against him, flesh feeling pillowy and warm against his back. He felt comforted, and his first instinct was to reciprocate the embrace.

Only there was something off about it.

One, he thought he was the only one here.

Another, this body was too soft and squishy in the right places to be anything but a woman. He already had a girlfriend, and she wasn't nearly this tall, or naturally padded.

This wasn't Mika. His first instinct was thrown out the window. The next was the push whomever latched onto him off, scramble to the corner of the stall and stay away before anyone else found out. His yelp of surprise was spot on. The push off didn't go as expected, because the person hugging him was unnaturally strong.

The turnaround went well. It was his still reeling mind, reduced to animal instinct status at the unforeseen event, that was taken well by surprise.

The person daring to be so affectionate to him was Lieutenant jg T'lan, fully nude and giving him an expression of Vulcan emptiness. Without emotions, she only had her body language to express herself, and without overselling herself she played the role of a vamp well. The sonic shower irradiated off her an aura as it scrubbed the dirt and grime of a day's labour clean off her skin. Her shoulders, her swelled breasts, her hips and thighs gleamed in the shower. Her expressionless face and razorsharp eyebrows gave her an indescribable, porcelain doll beauty, a lady of snow and ice who's eyes turned liquid brown and soft, the first part of her to melt. She tried to give herself willingly to James, leaning closer, their breath hot and heavy in their faces, her hands tracing imaginary lines along his back.

"NO!" James yelped, pushing T'lan off him. Though painfully aroused, James was also scared. "What the hell are you doing, Lieutenant?!"

T'lan looked at him, and said as if pained, "Sir... James... I am sorry, but I would rather we not fight. I thought that... you would appreciate my companionship... for the time being... James."

"Whoa!" James pushed away, his palms out, try to keep arm's length away, but could only manage the length of his member, "No... no way, Lieutenant! Stop calling me James... you're creeping me out."

"But sir..." T'lan looked confused, "I am aware that I am desirable to others. I am aware that I am desirable to you. I know the probability of a successful sexual liaison between us is approximately seventy five point eight three percent."

James squeaked, "Approximately?"

T'lan nodded, "Within a hundredth of a percent, James. Am I not being precise enough for you?"

"Oh! Yes... you're being plenty precise. Plenty precise." James stammered. He had nowhere else to retreat, not for a lack of trying from his slippery feet, "But... I thought you and Lieutenant Marsh had a thing."

T'lan blinked, "If that... 'thing' is a relationship James, then I would have to say no we do not. He has yet to ask. And I find you more... compatible." Her right fingers stroked his cheek, "What defies logic is that you resist, James."

"Oh no!" James resisted testily, "No way, Lieutenant! There's no logic about it. I'm already spoken for! I already have a girlfriend, for one, and she is a wonderful woman and she would cut off my balls and my dick if she ever found out about this! And another, I'm your superior officer. There is no way we can have a sexual liaison, Lieutenant. I cannot allow it. It's a... conflict of interest. I... can't."

"You can, James. If you relax and resist less, this will happen naturally."

"No."

T'lan's other hand snaked up his face, "Do not resist, James."

"No!"

"You will find me... pleasurable. If you'll allow me to..."

"NO!!!!!!!!"

Arm to arm, James pried at T'lan, trying to release her grip on him. Her Vulcan strength, ten times superior to even the most stout of humans, locked onto his face, her fingers digging deep. The pain of her fingers grew stronger, his muscles coiled and screamed under the strain, but he could not break free.

Needles of pain stabbed through his temple. None of it was physical.

"My mind to your mind.... My thoughts to your thoughts..."

***********

Their minds and thoughts went to another planescape.

Corgan was surrounded by a presence, screaming hate into his ear to echo ceaselessly into his mind. Each sound off wanted to shatter his resistance, and upon failure, nonetheless wore him down. It was as if being assaulted by a tidal wave of malevolence from all sides, with no reprieve in sight.

Controlling the whirlwind of chaos was T'lan.

He felt scared. This new presence wanted not just his mind. It wanted all of him, mind, soul, body, everything. He was a puny sentinel of individuality in a torrent of conquest. The mind after him was too large, too strong. His mind couldn't fight an ocean, dedicated to consuming him.

But he did have one last resort. One he didn't want to resort to, but against an ocean he had to try.

He started to imagine his most traumatic memory. Back came the Borg, Sector 001, the USS Thunderchild. Back came the memories of a Starfleet cadet, raw and scared to be on his first voyage aboard a starship. It was supposed to be a short tour of duty, on a ship doing patrols near the Sol system. There was no danger here.

The Borg dictated otherwise. He remembered the first attacks. The rumbling of the starship as Borg weapons pummelled its shields. The sparks and explosions of consoles overloaded. The collapsing shields. The humming, glittery noise of multiple transporter beams materializing drones all over the ship.

The yells of the dying.

The more horrid screams of men and women with nano-probes coursing through their veins, slowly assimilating into drones.

The helplessness of being caught in a tactical drone's servo claw. The despair, seeing his fingers not recalibrating properly over his first standard phaser pistol he had yet to master properly, ineffective against the shields of the drone.

Then, there was the waiting to die, frozen in fear as the dead drone's body heaped over his, too heavy to lift off, unable to move, afraid of the next drone to happen by.

The rest was blank, but enough to lead to years of waking up screaming.

It was those combined memories, condensed into a momentary attack against the oncoming chaos.

Nothing happened. To that T'lan smiled, and even laughed.

Then he came to realize his mistake.

This was the memory he and T'lan shared those months ago. As a counterattack, it had no chance.

James had enough time, after realizing he failed, to scream in pain while he was swept away. ***********

T'lan's fingers slowly lifted off James' face, leaving behind purple welts. She rised, naked and straddling James on the floor, to shut off the sonic shower. She shook her black hair, and smiled.

"James, get up and get dressed. We have work to do."

James got up from the floor. He dressed in his underwear. But something was not right in him. His eyes, gray and slatelike, were hollow and devoid of spirit.

"Yes, my dear. We have work to do. We must gather others."

"Fumbling Over Your Words"

By: Pilot Ayden O'Connor
& 2nd Lieutenant Branwen London

===

Ayden O'Connor leaned against a wall for a moment, his temple still pulsing from whatever caused him to collapse in the holodeck. "Damn, it would help if I was familiar with the ship." He uttered lightly, shifting his weight back onto his off foot and moving down the corridor. It had to have been space sickness, but he hadn't experienced such a thing in over seven years, why now?

Maybe the gravity generators were out of alignment, it happens.

He came around a corner, believing that he would find himself in front of sickbay, only to find a dead end. "God damnit!" he scolded himself, his headache pulsing so loudly that it made it difficult for him to concentrate. It had eased off suddenly after he fell down, but seemed to grow steadily worse with every step he took, almost as if the source of his pain was nearing closer. Now it was as if someone had shoved a ion drive into his skull.

He turned back to the corridor and nearly found himself off balance, grabbing a hold of the bulkhead to steady himself. With every passing second, he started to think less and less of this being simple space sickness. With his hand sliding along the wall, he stepped carefully down the corridor, hoping that he could find sickbay, or at least someone who could point him in the right direction.

It would only have made since to page someone on his communicator, and he knew that probably would have been the smart thing to do. His headache felt as though something were trying to break through, and in some ways... he could almost feel it breaking through. An image, why the hell would such a thing be happening?

~Damnit, I can just begin to see it...~ he thought, feeling looming features near the verge of his consciousness. And then suddenly, his vision started to black out. "Shit," he barely uttered, reaching over for his commbadge, finally willing to alert someone.

His fingers never touched, and by the time he realized it, he was slumped on the edge of the corridor. In the dark corner of his mind he saw an image, a strange, unsettling image, dead... but somehow... alive. Before he could comprehend what he was seeing, Ayden O'Connor... lost consciousness.

"London to sickbay." Branwen London said immediately after watching the pilot in front of her collapse suddenly. "Medical emergency." Then she sat next to the young man, doing basic first-aid until the medical team arrived. She was busy making sure he was breathing, and of course had no time to really watch him.

*** Sickbay, USS Galaxy: Approximately a half hour later ***

Why Ayden O'Connor had feinted was a mystery, with no physical signs or symptoms of illness present. Any rational explanation wouldn't be available until after he regained consciousness. The doctors had assured Branwen that the young man would be okay, and that he should wake up pretty soon. So she decided to stick around for that, curious about what had happened to him.

A blanket of darkness covered Ayden ever since he fell asleep, a silence that covered something that he couldn't even begin to describe. It was like staring into a dark room, and notice a shifting shadow of something terrible drawing closer. In truth, it terrified him, but even in his dreams he could not cry out. And then suddenly, he began to hear noises in the distance. Voices, which while at first seemed a great distance away, now seemed as close to him as ever. A slit in his vision appeared, with a blinding light that made him react by shielding his eyes with his hand.

He was awake? Ayden squinted as a rainbow of colors faded into what looked like the place he had been looking for since the beginning. Sickbay. There were several blue collars wandering around aimlessly, their motions blurry to him. And then suddenly, he noticed an angel, bathing in light beside him. His eyes dragged with a stagger towards her direction until they set themselves upon her. He squinted again, trying to clear her image. She seemed to have noticed that he was awake.

Reality, finally begun to set in. This woman was not an angel, rather a... he looked closer, just barely reading the green tint of her uniform collar... marine?

"Hello there." Branwen said smiling. "You gave us all quite a scare. How are you feeling now?"

Ayde brought his fingers to his temple and pressed them into his skull gently, letting a rumbled groan escape his lips as if to give any indication towards her question. He glanced over towards her, and smiled, barely. "Like somebody set off a warp core in my head..." he uttered, his eyes still trying to focus on this allusive individual he was speaking towards. "I'll take it that you're my rescuer?"

”I found you and brought you here.” She said smiling humbly.

Ayden nodded with a grin, "Well, thanks a lot." He began, "Although when I saw your uniform just a moment ago, I wa! s a little surprised. At first I there was this light surrounding you, so I thought you were an angel... and I was dead. All of the sudden your hymn made since when it says that Marines are the ones guarding the gates of heaven." He winked towards her, as her face suddenly became clearer. "I guess I was right about one thing, at least."

She giggled. “I am not an angel.” She said in her singsong welsh accent. “But what were you right about?”

~What an accent~ Ayden mused, knowing that this was going to be a bit corny. "Well, I'm not dead... but you're certainly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Oh Jesus, maybe the lack of oxygen really did go to his head! What was he thinking about next, asking her out for dinner? The woman probably just saved his life, and he was certain that it was more of a burden than a pleasure for her to do so.

Maybe she should have just ended his misery in the corridors... quickly and silently.

She giggled again. “Well thank you.” A red curl hung before her eyes. “I guess you should rest some more now.” He was probably still giddy and half awake.

Ayden was internally surprised at how receptive she was being, and figured there was a reasonable chance that she would accept his offer for dinner, or a holomovie, or any number of recreational activities aboard the Galaxy. But for some reason, he just laid there with a stupid grin on his face, either too dumb or simply too nervous to ask the question. It seemed ridiculous as to how natural he can be with any number of women when it's on one of those holonet dating services, but when there was a beautiful woman like this one right in front of him, it was as if the proverbial cat had cought his tongue.

So he just lay there for a moment, smiling towards her like a small boywith a gift for the first girl he ever liked, too afraid to give it to her. How stupid he would feel after all this was over if he let her escape him so easily. Finally, some sort of sense broke into his train of thought. "Well, I'd like to thank you for helping me out sometime, maybe if you want, over dinner?" He replied, hoping that his voice didn't seem too desperate. "Or something..." he added foolishly, oh how much he wanted to die right there. Here there was this beautiful woman, with a voice and accent that immediately all the pain in his body disappear, and he was fumbling about with his words like it was his first time meeting a girl.

~If she was smart she'd probably run away while she can... hell I don't even know if she's single, hell I don't even know her NAME!~ His thoughts wandered, with an immediate hope that she wasn't single, and that her name wasn't far from the conversation ahead.

Her face fell a little. “I don’t mind dinner. But I should tell you right now that I am not looking for a boyfriend or anything. I have given up on relationships.” Then she smiled again. “But you must get well first.”

Ayden had a feeling of excitement, she hadn't turned him down... at least not directly. Now this young woman seemed too beautiful to exist without someone to love her, but at this stage it was far too early for him to think about entering that contest. She was an attractive woman with a sensous accent, and she had helped him in his time of need. He wasn't about to let her go with only a few mere words of gratitude.

Ayden smiled lightly. "Now we've only just met, it would be a little strange if we started thinking about romance so soon. He replied in a soft and caring tone. He hoped that would alleviate any concern of hers that he was seeking more than an enjoyable meal. "Ok, so if and when they give me a clean bill of health, how will I be able to find you?"

“You can find me in my office. I am temporary Marine CO.” Bran said. "So everybody knows me there."

"I'm not going to get stripped searched coming in will I?" He asked jokingly,

She giggled again. “Of course not! We are not savages!”

"Just checking," Ayden responded coyly. "Well then, as soon as I'm free to go, I'll come by."

“Great.” Bran got to her feet. “Got to get back to work now. Take care you hear."

Ayden shifted his weight in alarm, "Wait..." he watched her pause in midstep, turning to face him with a curious glance. "You haven't even told me your name, yet."

“Ah.” She giggled looking very unlike a marine. “It’s Bran, Branwen London. And you?”

"Ayden O'Connor, it's nice to meet you Bran." He replied, finding an amazing sense of calm over her accent and quirks. ~Certainly not like any Marine I've ever met before~ he thought, reminesing for a moment on his Father. He quickly purged that image from his mind. "

“Nice to meet you too.” She smiled brightly. “And now you have to rest before the docs get angry.”

Ayden nodded and watched as Bran stepped out of sickbay and disappeared into the corridors. "Damn girl..." he uttered lightly, hoping that his stay in sickbay wouldn't be that long. Something like that, didn't come every day. He reached over and looked for a doctor, hoping that his prediment was minor and that he could get out of here soon.

[BACKPOST]

"Fornlorn Fools Part 1"

By: Pilot Ayden O'Connor
& Pilot Ember Lansky

===

**Takes place approximately two hours after "Fumbling over your Words"**

It had been a long first day aboard the USS Galaxy, especially with Ayden's unexpected trip to sickbay. He settled into his chair with an audible sigh, trying not to notice the containers resting against the wall from what he hadn't unpacked yet. "I'll do it tomorrow," he uttered lightly, tapping the activation toggle on his portable computer. "Computer, establish link with Federation Holonet, and download all messages to my account."

Ayden brought his fingers up to his temple, rubbing the lingering tone of his headache away as best he could. The doctors gave him some medication, but it wasn't having the desired effect he had hoped for. Just what had caused him to collapse in the first place? Certainly not exhaustion...

The computer chirped again, and Ayden's attention drew to his screen. Thirty-four messages, most of which were from various frien! ds and colleages, with a few from his potentials amongst the stars. He had tried the Federation Online Dating network as an enlistedmen, not expecting to be impressed. To his own surprise, he found a vast collection of thousands of women who were both attractive, smart, and as capable as he would want any woman to be. A few were in the military, while others were civilians. One in particular, had caught his eye from the start. "Computer, open message from Lanskygirl2357."

As was customary with messages from her, it was worded in a question, the tone as deliberately provocative as usual: "What makes you think your odds get any better searching for someone across the vast galaxy when you are clearly inept with someone right near you?"

Ayden heaved an audible sigh, leaning back in his chair as he tried to think of how to respond. It had been nearly two weeks since he had talked with "Ember", this young female who for the last several months has connected with him in more ways than one. As fiery and arrogant as she could be, there was this certain spark about her that he couldn't ignore.

Unfortunately, their last encounter had led to some... unexpected developments that now left him unsettled, and uncertain. Now he had to decide whether to take a step forward or backwards. Obviously, she felt weighed down by these same questions, and he was concerned that she already made the decision for both of them.

~If only we weren't on opposite ends of the quadrant~ He pondered, as he clicked on the "Reply" option of the message.

"What makes you think that I'm willing to settle for just anybody?" He began, thinking heavily upon what would be the right words to say. What happened between them couldn't be ignored, and he wasn't about to pretend otherwise. "What if that right person happened to be on the opposite end of the galaxy, and I'd have to cross it just ! to find her?"

Another sigh escaped Ayden's lips, as he deliberated with himself over everything he was feeling. And now with his encounter with that Marine? It seems as though the galaxy is a cruel place, either depriving him of romance or offering him too much of it. Now he was too afraid about making the wrong decision. He closed his eyes and surrounded his uncertainty with any distracting thought he could come up with, and yet every time, it always came back to her.

"Computer, send message."

The beep alerting her to a message startled her when it sounded. Ember hesitated for a split second, that in itself more telling than the order that she finally gave, "Computer, open the new message." She read the words in silence, drawing in a deep breath to calm herself. This was stupid; online dating was stupid. This whole charade was stupid from the moment it first began. She would be damned if she would let herself be affected by mere words issued from the other end of the galaxy.

As she reread the message (god knows why she did it), she felt herself getting more indignant and angrier by the second. How dare he? She had to remind herself that she was in full control of the situation here, that this was just "mindless entertainment" to occupy a few minutes of her time when she wasn't flying. That was the whole reason she signed on for this dating service in the first place; because it was worth a few laughs.

A brief glance at the net and she knew he was online. She composed a lightning quick response to him: "What if's are for fools who are too afraid to look reality in the face."

There was something pulsing in his veins that said he couldn't let her go, couldn't let her disappear after everything they've been through. In a way, her defiance made him realize that the direction he wanted to take, was forward. "And what does reality tell you then! ?" He asked. "Damnit Ember what happened wasn't anything we did wrong. Obviously we both wanted it, even if none of us would have admitted it otherwise." He paused, trying to keep himself from getting too excited. "Look there are several things that we both have common, and retreating from something we appreciate isn't one of them." He said with emphasis on his last words. And then there was an unexpected pause, for which he couldn't save but to heave a heartfelt sigh. "Ember, I don't want you to pull away."

"Stop psychoanalyzing me, assuming that what you want is what I want!" She replied, refraining at the last moment from adding several more exclamation marks to the message. She didn't want to seem like she was losing it. Right. This was a roar. There was something sick and amusing about this game, from the very beginning when she thought she would have some fun with the lovelorn fools online pining after that special someone ac! ross the stars, to now where the situation was reversed, in a sick, amusing way. *She* turned out to be the butt of the joke.

"When two people are half the quadrant apart, that spells Impossibility, with a capital 'I'. In case you haven't noticed, you just got transferred, as did I. Hello! Wake up! That's a jolt of reality for you, Ayden," Ember continued with vehemence, internally shutting out the rest of his message.

Ayden slumped in his chair, she really did have a point. The hard facts of the matter is that even if they had met in real life, they'd still have to worry about receiving separate assignments. The odds of having the same posting would be nearly impossible for their profession, and even in peacetime the risk of death was great.

But did that mean that he would forgo romance? He felt torn two ways, and couldn't take his eyes off a holopicture of him and Ember during one of their subspace linked holodeck adventure! s. With the backdrop of the great wall of China back on Earth behind them, the picture identified a definate high in his life. Things were good back then, they were two friends having an enjoyable time. Why did that have to change?

When there was no response forthcoming, Ember frowned. The lengthy pause might have given her building anger a much needed splash of cold water, but the blasted silence made her recall memories she badly wanted to forget. Before, back when they weren't in this state, they had fun together. He amused and entertained her. He… made her laugh. Sometime between then and now, things had changed. Suddenly, 'fun' didn't cut it anymore. Complicated things like emotions, commitment, and hell no, talk of a future together had come into the picture. Damn damn damn. It was all his fault.

"It's all your fault," She found herself sending.

Ayden glanced up, not expecting another message from her. Even though he! couldn't think of anything to say at the moment, he had expected her to log off the net. The truth was, while Ayden was completely clueless about what a woman was thinking in real life, there was something in subspace text that allowed him to read her more closely. Ember wasn't the kind of person who would prolong anything she didn't enjoy, so that meant...

Part of her didn't want to let go either.

But that didn't mean that this situation would resolve itself with a few kind words like the ones they had shared previously, no, this would require something that he couldn't identify even now. ~I seem to recall her kissing me first~ he thought, his mind drifting to a brief moment in the holodeck after their already intense sparring session developed into... something else entirely. Her same wild ferocity that had only before formed rapid combination attacks leaving him sore and bruised even now hadn't changed, that was for sure. "May! be it is." He began, "But that doesn't change the way I care about you."

Those words left him stunned even in himself, to have finally admitted to her that there were emotions stirring inside him that he couldn't control. He sat there and read his own words over and again, unsure if he should send it or not. He had always been reserved around her, never giving her too much of a clue about how he felt. She had been the same with him, shrouding her own feelings tightly behind warm smiles and light laughter. Maybe that was how they got along so well, and that was how things were falling apart now. Hell, their intimacy in the holodeck was probably the first time they were truely honest with each other. In every other case, neither of them were willing to admit their feelings to the other, and if Ayden was going to have any chances of salvaging this, he would have to be the first.

She stared at the message he sent, her mind suddenly unab! le, or unwilling to process its meaning. After a few moments, she released the breath she didn't realise she had held. If there was a textbook answer one should use to respond to a person who had opened his heart to her, she would score a wrong on every count. Quickly, before she let herself hesitate any longer, she replied. "I don't." A short, brisk answer. There was no way he could mistake the intention in that.

I don't want to waste anymore time with you, she thought to herself, or maybe she was desperate to convince herself. She logged off.

"Damnit!" Ayden yelled, banging the butt of his fist into the table, making a solid thunk that lifted up most of the smaller items laying upon it. There was no mistake, she had signed off, not only that, she had left him with those two words. ~I Don't, I don't, I don't~ He repeated in his mind, as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong.

The crackle of his chair as he laid himself back completely could not be ignored. She was gone. Maybe even forever.

"Bedside Anger?"

Lt. Commander Brianna O'Shea, CE/SCE Liaison
2nd Lt. Jeb Baile, Marines

:: Sickbay::

Brianna had been forced to return to the ship, feeling very much like she had to retreat. Something she did not like feeling. Something, brushed against her, though someone tried telling her it was just her mind playing with her. She felt something touch her down in the antechamber. She didn't say another word to Corgan as he told her to report to sickbay and be checked out after the fall. So when she walked into sickbay she was covered in dust and had a few small cuts on her hands, arms and face. Walking in, she didn't notice Baile there but sat down waiting to be checked out and hopefully something to ease off the back ache.

All it took was a soft murmur to drown out the rest of the noise that made up sickbay right now. Everything except that voice became dull and distant. Baile frowned mentally. What the hell was his body up to now? The hundreds of drums stopped beating in his head, seemingly satisfied to give him one steady beat. Compared to how it had been just a few seconds ago it felt like silent bliss. "What are you doing here, Newbie? Broke a nail?"

Anna turned and looked over toward Baile, then raised her hand and flipped him off. "I'm waiting to see a doctor, unlike some people here I have work." She said then looked at him more. "What wrong with you, having your monthly?" Anna asked, standing up and moving over toward his bed.

Baile was laying down on the biobed, his arm draped over his eyes. "You? Work? Well, that would be a first, wouldn't it, newbie?" he teased her, ignoring her last question. He didn't have any answers and didn't want any sympathy. He just wanted to get the hell out of there.

"Smooch my ass, Rooster." She said then turned to sit back down. Anna was bothered, it was clear she was in one of her moods. The thing that was bothering was over there where they'd came from.

"Let me guess, Darlene... the Baker boys ran into trouble and decided to reassess the situation?" Baile replied as a matter of fact. "Hazard teams can't fight their way out of a wet paper bag.. they're posers, but that's about it..."

"And they don't listen!" Anna snapped. Standing up she folded her arms over her body. Her mind was still on the antechamber. "Course I'm only a ranking officer within the Starfleet Corp of Engineers and Chief Engineer of this ship, what the hell do I know?.. huh?"

The Marine chuckled to himself. "You're an engineer Barbie.. sit down and don't rock the boat.. That's what they want you to do.. " Baile grinned slightly as some light found its way into his eyes. He was getting really tired of it. If he ever found the son of a bitch who poked out his eyes then that would be a legendary death. "Hazard Teams gets all the shiny toys, but its us Marines that gets tossed in the middle of the fun parties."

"Since I'm just a engineer, find someone else to fix and augment your weapons and gear." She said sitting down. Anna knew very well he wouldn't, cause one they found a good engineer it was like a good cheap whore for them. They always went back.

"Awww.. Newbie.. we Marines loves ya'll lots.. " Baile replied with barely hidden amusement. Then he grew serious. "Tell me what happened then.." "Why, doesn't matter now they pulled me out when I was right on the edge of something over there." Anna said then looked over toward Baile. "I was down in this antechamber. I located the source where a power level was imitating from. Behind a doorway made of rock. Well... when I went back to ask to remain behind, I was told no, then... then something brushed against my side. It was dark, I couldn't see anything, it happened so fast."

"Something... brushed against you?"

"Yes.. I felt it. I do know what it's like to be brushed up against." Anna stated. "Everyone I've mentioned it to are saying it was put on from fear of being down in the antechamber by myself and it being dark. Baile, I lived that with you on the jungle planet. I don't give in to fear... something brushed against me."

"Jungle planet?.. Ah.. the resort we dragged you to.. " he grinned while his brain processed the information given to him. "You know.. the Baker boys might have made the right call on this one."

"Tell me you are not siding with them?" Anna said, looking at him. "Something is behind that rock doorway."

Baile sat up, still keeping his eyes closed. "Not siding with anyone... you said it yourself. Something is behind that rock doorway and you have no idea what... now you don't ever hear me telling you how to fix a thingymagingy acting up down in Engineering.... it's a military situation after all.. " He fell silent for a few seconds to gather his thoughts. "Just think about it - how long would you have lasted on that jungleplanet without the Crows?"

Anna sighed and slumped back in her chair. "I get that, I really do. Their stupid if they send a military team over there, be it your people or the Hazard Team. Their going in not listening to me, something practically felt me up down there, Jeb." She said then looked at him noticing his eyes then. "What the fraking hell happened to you?" She asked, standing up to look at his eyes.

He waved his hand to dismiss the question. "Nothing.. just took a shot of mace in them. The quacks just want to make sure they're ok.. " Baile made sure to keep his eyes closed for two reasons. First being Anna and the questions that would follow. The second being the pain associated with opening them. It was wearing on his patience and there was no telling how he would react in the end. "All the more reason to send in Marines. We'll clear the area from hostiles a lot faster and more efficient that the Bakerboys ever can no matter now fancy toys they have."

"If you go over, I want to go with you. Don't give me that crap about I'm not fit. If I can survive the Crows, I can survive this rag tag team of Marines." Anna said, knowing not to press him about his eyes.

The Marine grinned slyly. "Actually I think you'd have a better chance surviving with the Crows than with these Monkeys.. the stories I could tell you.. " his voice was filled with barely held back contempt and an uncharacteristic anger.

"Question is can they survive with me." She said as she brushed away a nurse trying to take care of her hands. Which hurt like hell cause of the gripping the rock face. "Can you just get me something for my back? Leave my hands alone?" She asked the nurse and then shooed her away. "You don't like anyone, Baile.. these marines are no different."

He shrugged, mentally cursing himself for letting the anger slip through. "We all have our parts to play."

"Don't.." Anna said. "I'm not in the mood for your philosophical statements." She said as a nurse gave her something for a back.

The anger flared up again, not really directed at Anna, but she was the closest one and in harms way so to speak. He opened his eyes without thinking. "You're right. I don't like anyone.. Give me a battlefield and I shall win you the war.. but these fuckers - the Baker boys, the Command, the docs.. they all play their fucking games... "

"There's the Baile I know and love." Anna said, as she leaned back letting the pain slide away.

Had the biobed been alive it would have screamed. Baile's hands gripped the edges so hard his knuckles went white. The pain from the eyes fueled him, made him more... aware. "I'm going fucking nuts in here.. " he grumbled, but the anger burned brightly in his voice.

"So get up and leave with me cause I'm not staying to see a doctor.. we'll go back to my place, see how much fuel my... still as produced."

As much as he wanted to go Baile shook his head. "I can't. Docs here have pulled me off active duty and are keeping me here until some quack name Rabb can take a look at the tests." Funny. The light didn't hurt his eyes as much right now. It still felt sharp as hell, but at least it didn't try to cut a hole in his head.

"Lucky you, she was on the away team I was on." Anna said standing up. "Since your going to have so much fun here.. I need to check in with engineering. If you get out, help yourself to the juice, just stay out of the panty drawer."

Baile laid back down on the biobed and placed an arm over his eyes again. "That's what Fleeters do... I'm just interested in taking them off the owner.. what ever happens after that is not my problem.."

"Come now, Baile.. most of the women you've had don't even wear them." She retorted as she stood up. "I'm off.." Anna stated as she headed for the door.

"We can't all be perfect... " he replied as the drums started beating inside his head again. So much for silence.

"I'm damn near close enough.." Anna called out as she turned and disappeared through the doorway.

"One Big Headache"

Ops Team:

Lt. JG Tarin Iniara (Operations)

Lt. Michael Jamson (Operations)

Lt. Raven Darkstar (Tactical)

Michael McDowell, Civilian Engineering Specialist (Engineering)

2nd Lt. Branwen London (Marines)

Ensign Paulo DiMillo (Intel)

Location: Transporter room, USS GALAXY

["Ensign DiMillo, please report for away team duty,"] the voice came over the comm.

"On my way," Paulo said as he nodded to the person he was talking with and headed out towards the weapons locker to suit up. After a few minutes of walking and dodging people running all over the place he arrived. He was the first one there. "Great," he said to himself. First thing, he was here before the team leader and second his headache had come back. "I swear to..." he trailed off as he rubbed his temples trying to get the headache to go away.

"Are you all right?" Although Branwen was here as a marine, this man was also her patient. Very confusing sometimes. The headache that had been nagging her for the last day or so was still in the back of the mind being annoying. She really hoped she had taken another aspirin to keep it under control. After all she was here to protect the others.

"Yes I am fine," Paulo shot back without realizing he did it or to whom. "Oh, sorry," he said to her. "These headaches are really starting to get to me and I just wish they would go away."

"You too? Man, I have had a headache since yesterday morning. You want some aspirin?" She offered him some.

"No thanks," he replied to her as he finished gearing up. "This headache of mine has come and gone, and I have already been to medical and they don’t even know what is going on inside here," he said pointing to his head. "At this point I’d just rather pass out from the pain."

"If you are not up to it, you should stay on the ship." She said. "We need everybody to stay sharp here." She felt nervous about having to protect everybody. And it didn't do any wonders for her own headache.

"Agreed." Lt. Raven Darkstar rumbled in a voice that sounded like an avalanche.

He had been sitting in the shadows, his face streaked with red and black war paint, offering prayers to the ancients and watching the various officers arrive and strap on back packs, phasers, helmets and the like.

As he had always done dating back to his security days, Darkstar carried no phaser of any sort. He relied simply on himself and his abilities to carry him through any problems he may encounter.

Hearing an officer on his away team display a weakness ignited the fire of irritation inside the Indian. Hearing two officers whine about headaches made him want to throw himself out of an air lock. What would they do if they lost a limb or had to hold their own entrails inside their bodies and keep fighting?

"If you survive and still have a head that hurts, I would be glad to help you ease your suffering," he said with no trace of humor.

Branwen gave him an equally unsmiling look in return. Then went about her business.

"I am fine *Lt.*," Paulo said back to the new arrival. "Just give me a database to decrypt and go through and I will be okay," he said looking back to Branwen, "I will keep it in mind, but I will be able to do this."

At this point Michael walked in. He still wondered why he'd been asked to join the team since he was still a Civilian, and even more so why he agreed. He was appointed to this mission as Engineering Specialist. He had to admit, it had a nice ring to it.

Another thing that was getting more and more nagging on him was his mood changes. It took only this much and he got angry. It was like he wasn't himself anymore. Maybe it all had to do with what happened between him and Jiiles. And then those slight waves of headaches. They didn't improve his mood. Maybe that's what caused it all in the first place. Michael kept thinking while he joined the rest of the team. He only nodded to them as he acknowledged their presence.

Jamson was pacing quickly on his way to the transporter room. He was fully equipped for the away mission, carrying both weapons and engineering ordinance. His rapid response uniform felt uncomfortable as he tried to get along with his entire outfit. On his back, the more powerful and compact sized type IIIc Federation Compression rifle with a phaser targeting module provided a better sense of security to the standard type 2 holstered hand phaser. Completing his tactical equipment, was a personal force field, recently given to all away team members, and a portable tactical display. No one knew what happened on that station, so all away teams were ordered to carry arms, just in case.

Checking all the kits he was carrying, Jamson could only hope they would actually need all of this equipment. Field modulators, pattern enhancers, mini holographic replicators, portable computers, wrist communicators, modified engineering kits, portable force field generator, were only a part of what he was carrying.

Their mission was to restore power to the station and bring whatever systems they could to operational status. Priority was given to sensors and weapons systems. The proud, heavily equipped operations officer was quite excited about this away mission. It's been ages since he was assigned to an away team, and was quite eager to join the adventure. In recent years, he spent most of his time performing tedious and dull ship and station duties instead of tasting some action. Losing such a vital part of his life, caused him to 'degenerate' and distant himself away from others by overloading himself with boring work. This was all about to change, as Jamson stepped through the doors of the transporter room.

Unexpectedly, Lieutenant Tarin was the last member of the team to arrive. The Ops Chief was still in full Hazard Team gear, having returned from the first away team mission not long ago. Her hands seemed latched onto the phaser rifle she carried, the skin around her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

Looking around the room at the assembled group, she gave each member a quick once-over before beginning. "Alright, this is fairly straightforward. Once we transport over we are to make our way to the Ops Center. We need to restore power, life support, and weapons systems. Anything else is secondary, but would be most appreciated. Questions?"

Iniara paused for only the briefest of moments before turning towards the transporter platform. "Let's get moving."

Impatience setting in, Darkstar took the transporter platform as soon as it was cleared. He looked back at the remainder of the assembled team. The Marine counselor was technically responsible for the away team’s safety; however the Indian's experience also forced him to shoulder the task as his own.

Seeing the looks upon the faces of his "team mates", Raven was beginning to feel that this task would be more of a challenge than any previous.

"Will anyone else be joining me?" he asked, eager to get over to the station and hopefully find something to do battle with to vent his frustration.

"I would hope so," Iniara replied humorlessly as she took a spot beside the huge man.

Once everyone was standing on the pad, the Bolian transporter officer slid his blue fingers across the control panel, turning the team into a stream of subatomically debonded matter, and sent them to Deep Space Five where they finally materialized again.

As usual, the whole affair caused Darkstar heartburn, making him more irritable.

The marine immediately deployed herself, covering the other teammates in the room.

Paulo took out his tricorder and started to scan the area. This area was already giving him the creeps and the lighters were on. He had a small nagging feeling in the back of his head that he couldn't get rid of... though the constant headache didn't help at all.

Beside him Iniara peered around at their surroundings, and unconsciously shuddered. The team members' flashlights threw eerie reflections across the angular surfaces of the darkened area, but it wasn't that which gave her the creeps. She wished it was that simple.

Jamson never liked the transporters; he never felt comfortable with the idea of being split into tiny atoms and then transferred thousands of kilometers away. Placing some of the cases his was carrying on the floor, he sighed. "This is getting heavy..." Pulling a tricorder from his belt, and scanning away like the rest of the away team, he noticed they weren't even near the Operations center. "It seems like we've been beamed away from the Ops center."

Darkstar frowned.

Were he back aboard the USS ZEUS and a transporter chief missed his mark, Fleet Admiral Bhrode would have had that same officer spending his career shoveling raw sewage in the ship’s replimat reclaimers. The year he spent as Chief of Security under the old man had definitely instilled an impatience with failure in the Indian.

"Must be the same interference that blocked the sensors," the operations officer remarked.

”Wonderful,” came Iniara’s sarcastic reply from behind him. That problem alone had cost the first away team a good deal of time. She pulled out her tricorder, and frowned when she realized it wasn’t going to be much help. “I hoped that would have been compensated for by now.”

Jamson replied, "At least we're getting a link to the ship. We'll have to raise the communications array on the station, if we want to get more a clear connection to specific areas onboard." The comm link to the ship was evident, but it was almost impossible to speak through it to the Galaxy.

”We can focus on that once we get the station’s power back up. Until then...” Iniara’s voice trailed off as she focused on her tricorder, tapping at the keys for several seconds. “Ah, here we go. This way. It shouldn’t be too far.”

Paulo took up step towards the back. This place was already giving him the creeps. The briefing hadn't helped at all. He would be happy to get to the OPS center as soon as possible so he could start to get to work, of course if the computer core was on-line. He would need to see if he could get into the logs to find out what happened.

"Good. I wouldn't want to walk around here for long. This place...something here gives me the chills." Michael said and followed the others, ever wary of his surroundings.

Paulo actually let out a small smirk at the comment as they rounded a corner.

Not knowing what else to do Bran kept guarding the perimeter and ignoring the increasing headache she was suffering from. She felt uneasy here. It was as if she saw strange motions from the corners of her eyes. But every time she turned around there was nothing there.

It was too dark to understand what was going on, and Jamson was already 'blinded' several times by other away team members and their flashlights. The familiar sounds of the tricorders scanning was accompanied the sounds of metal as the crew members walked slowly with their magnetic boots. Gravity generators weren't functioning at 100% due to the power shortage, which only made the regular task of walking much more difficult. They all had a lot of work ahead of them; environmental systems, which included life support, atmospheric systems, along with gravity generation were around 20% all around the station. Sensor systems were out, intrastation and ship to station communications were almost impossible to achieve. The main objective was restoring the power. "Michael..." Jamson approached McDowell, the specialized engineer, "What do think you we should do with the Fustion system and power distribution network once we get to the Ops center?" Jamson had had little time to study the power system on the station.

"What one always does before trying to fix something - determine what's wrong with it." Michael replied in a no nonsense way. "After that I think it would be wise to prioritize repair tasks, determine what should be repaired first and what can wait. But, I think I should tell you that the power system off these type of Starbases are not the easiest to work with. It can take some time to get it to work again."

"I hear you". Jamson had vast knowledge and experience on plenty of stations. Since his early days as a young ensign in operations, to the time in which he wore those precious captain pips, he was involved in many repair task forces. He was even assigned, in the past, to one troublesome starbase, Station Beta 2, an old Yeridian space station, converted by the Federation. If he could handle Beta 2, he could handle anything. He also had the opportunity to work on many old Cardassian installations during the war and afterwards. He only hoped that the fusion generators and reaction chambers weren't damaged; otherwise, their task would be next to impossible. This included many other systems, such as fuel transfer conduits, EPS conduits, Deuterium storage, nanometer laser detonators, conditioning blocks, all the electronhydraulic and paristaltic pumps and the coolant loops, radiator beds, each one critical and would prove crucial to their mission. Each one had to be checked before power was to be restored.

"Anyhow." Jamson punched a few keys in his tricorder, "We have 5 decks to go... this way," he pointed upwards. "And no turbolifts...." since there was no power to those systems, that meant only one thing. They'd have to crawl through Jeffries tubes and ladders on their way up.

”What?” Iniara replied in disbelief. She moved towards Jamson, clunking along as fast as she could in magboots. Holding her tricorder next to his, she compared the two readouts. She grumbled, tapping at her tricorder once more. Until recently it had said the Ops center was in the next section over, and then it had told her it was three decks down. As she recalibrated the map changed, becoming an exact copy of the one on Jamson’s tricorder. “Well I’ll be damned.”

She turned back to the group, still plodding along behind and around her. “Let’s get a move on, then. I want to get there before next week.”

Lieutenant Darkstar, the tallest figure, was leading away at the front, while Branwen, the marine was guarding the rear.

While he understood that he was not the leader of this away team, he was growing weary of the glacial-like pace of the whole affair and when the team was finally prepared to move out, Raven took the point position almost instinctively. His pace was somewhat faster then usual, yet he moved with a silent grace that one wouldn’t expect from someone so large. Commander Corgan's Team had previously cleared the target area; however Darkstar kept all of his senses attuned to the gloomy station.

Behind him he could hear the nervous breathing of the remainder of the away team. He glanced quickly over his shoulder at Ensign DiMillo and Lt. London. Both officers had complained about headaches prior to beaming over, immediately raising his hackles. He had been watching them both to be sure that their apparent infirmaries didn’t jeopardize the safety of the mission.

As he had learned from his twin brother Major Laughing Horse Log (Hey kids! Remember him?), the proud Starfleet Marines were trained to function not only with a headache, but without a head if need be. Ensign DiMillo, however, was an Intelligence officer and Darkstar had always held those people in low regard. He had met few Intelligence officers who had the strength of will to stand on the front lines and wage hand to hand combat with their enemy. Most seemed to be more comfortable hiding in the shadows and waging war unseen.

To him it was not an honorable way to do battle.

Never the less, they were members of this crew and Darkstar had to allow that their training would keep them in the game.

He did however reserve the right to step in when a weakness was exposed.

“And here we are,” Lieutenant Tarin spoke up, breaking the silence. She shined a light towards the turbolift doors. Without waiting for further comments she clomped up to the doors, jammed her fingers in the tiny gap between them, and began to pull. A moment later the doors cracked open slightly, the gap widening further until the doors gave up and slid softly into the recesses in the wall. She turned back to the group, and jerked a thumb skyward. “Going up?”

"Release"

Lt. Cmdr. Brian Elessidil
Asst. Chief Counselor

Nurse Cardin Mehl
NPC

The mood in sickbay continued to be overwhelming on many levels.

First, the steady influx of crew into the already hectic environment flowed on, unabated. It seemed the medics no sooner escorted one nauseated, hallucinating person to a place to sit or lie down that two more came through the doors. And with several of the senior medical staff assisting with the away team effort on DS5, more responsibility fell to the already burdened doctors, nurses and medics that remained.

Adding to the stress and strain of the situation was the continued lack of a clear cause of the ever-widening range of symptoms, and no one felt the frustration more than the medical staff. It was their job after all, their vocation, to identify sources of physiological problems and eliminate them, or at least mitigate their effects. But with the exception of some limited success from the collar control device replicated by Dr. Artim, most of their efforts seemed to have few positive results.

Oddly, however, the most improved patient had until only a few hours ago been the worst-off.

"I don't know, Counselor," a tall young nurse began, analyzing the data displayed on the PADD he was holding. "According to every test I've run, you're fine. There's not an anomalous reading or unexpected condition to be found, including the symptoms you were showing before and after you were brought here."

Elessidil smiled. The response itself was nothing unusual for the generally good-natured Betazoid, but it was nonetheless . . . different. His expression was more self-satisfied than friendly, yet in every other way the counselor's demeanor would have been considered perfectly normal to anyone who knew him. "Then it sounds like you should let me go."

Ensign Mehl regarded him carefully, as if looking for something that had eluded his scans. "Well, you no longer seem to have any symptoms, but still, Sir, I'm not sure-..."

"I know what you're thinking, Ensign," Brian replied literally, "and I don't think there's any harm in letting a guy out of sickbay when he's clearly recovered, do you? Besides, you have plenty to keep you busy here."

The nurse sighed resignedly. "I guess you're right about that, Sir. All the same, it would make me feel a lot better if you checked back in later, say maybe in four hours?"

"You have my word, Ensign," Brian promised, wasting no time getting off the biobed.

~Charm . . . this one has a certain charm over others.~ Deep within, "It" mused on the opportunities that would soon be available through this personality.

The counselor smiled again and laid a friendly hand on Cardin's shoulder. "Thank you, Ensign, for everything. You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

Mehl smiled back, pleased that in some unknown way, he had helped the counselor recover. "Of course, Sir."

~No idea, indeed,~ It thought, as the strong Betazoid body it now inhabited left the confines of sickbay.

"Quiet Insurrection"

Major Corran Rex (sort of)

Rex - or those occupying the body of the Trill known as Corran Rex - was very pleased.

They had chosen an excellent vessel for their transfer to the ship, they decided. The Joined being was known to be gregarious, and particularly friendly with many crew members - particularly those of the female variety.

Even better was the fact that this vessel had a high percentage of those susceptible to possession by the Kind (as they called themselves) or the Dithparu (as they were known by others.)

In only a few hours, They had claimed (some would say infected) over forty people aboard this magnificent vessel. None of those ships that had been here at Deep Space Five had had so many candidates - a fact that had resulted in those ships immolating themselves and each other as the Kind had attempted to take control.

But this ship, this.. "Galaxy"....

It was perfect.

Rex approached one of the beings that was standing guard at the armory - and was please to note that one of the humanoids was Deltan, the other, half-Betazoid. Both would make excellent candidates.

Approaching the two security guards, the Trill gave a wide smile.

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

Rex departed the armory later, after the Kind had successfully taken their hosts, a crate full of weaponry being carried on an antigrav sled between his two new retainers. Both had, with the help of a hypospray, recovered from their bodies initial shock fairly quickly. Stacked in another crate on top of the one containing weapons was a crate full of power packs. Every remaining weapon in the armory was now useless.

Yes, that would serve their plans quite well. With a quick glance, he checked the chronometer on his wrist, and confirmed that it was time for the meeting.

Quickening his pace, Rex headed for the designated location, his retainers behind him.

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

Three of the others, those he'd chosen to speak with, were already there. Those wearing the forms of Doctor Rabb, Chief Jayce, and the other one, this Counselor Elessidil.

Seeing Their companions, They smiled yet again. "Hello, my fellows." they said in that smooth, strange, multi-tonal voice indicating that several of the Kind were yet present in Corran's body. "How go the preparations?"

"They are proceeding." the one called Jayce replied simply.

"On schedule?"

"Yes."

"Good. A little insurrection and mutiny is always the perfect end to the day." They smiled. "And when we're done, this mighty vessel will be ours alone, and only the dead will object."

And from deep inside the recesses of his mind, Corran Rex railed at the prison his mind and body had become, helpless to do or say anything to stave off the coming disaster.

Anything at all.

((OOC: I decided to try something different with my post - it basically takes place completely within Mike's mind. Enjoy! - Laurel))

"Scream"

by Lt. Cmdr. Micealah Rabb

Deep within the fortress that her mind had built to protect herself, Micaelah Rabb was screaming. Gone was the care-free laughter, the ready smile, and the shear love of life that had characterized the tiny redhead. Instead, there was only the knowledge that her body was not her own anymore. This, she supposed, was the first stage of insanity.

Another being looked out from her eyes, and through her they had infected her husband. Selok was just as trapped as she and she could feel the echoes of his own distress rippling through their bond. Every once in a while, the Other would attack her mind viciously - seeking to destroy the one to whom her body properly belonged. The fortress walls bared the brunt of the attack, and in this mental plane the mortar was crumbling.

So, she screamed. It was a scream against the injustice of it all; a scream against the end of her world and the dawn of another not of her making. The creature would sometimes throw visions at the Doctor; visions of herself committing murder, destroying lives with the careless movement of her hand, and plotting to take over everything and everyone that she had ever loved or cared for. Mike knew that she was not acting like herself - even this deep inside her own mind she knew that she was not complete. Something was terribly, horribly, irreparably wrong.

That was when she saw the small gap in her fortress wall. It was tiny, no more than a crack, but it was enough for the other being occupying her mind to infiltrate her stronghold. It was the reason behind her screaming, it was the one that had caused this damage to her and to those she considered under her protection. The petite half human woman stood, her blue eyes sparking with the willful strength and the love of life that had always characterized her to others.

"You will not succeed," she told it in a firm voice, feeling the echo of her own power here within her sanctuary. Here, in her mind, her accent was gone and each word was delivered in a crisp voice.

"I already have," the voice, she would later describe, was like the sound of leaves brushing across permacrete sidewalks in the Hill Country of her home, "There is nothing you can do. No where you can hide. Soon, even you will be a memory in this place and there will only be me."

"You think you can cause me to despair? You think you can cause me to give up? Think again. I will beat you," Mike drew herself to her full height and glared at the gap, "I will deny you my body, and don't think that you can ignore me for an instant. The moment you falter, the moment your attention is somewhere else, I will be there. And you? You will be gone. I will have my body back – that is a promise."

Delighted laughter echoed across the fortress walls and through the tiny crack, "You amuse me, Micaelah Rabb. I will return."

"Watch your back," Mike shouted after it as she felt its presence fade.

She suddenly discovered that there was a new difference in her sanctuary, and this difference heralded the return of one of her manic grins.

Micaelah Rabb was no longer screaming.

"Control Freak"

Lt.jg Cain Forrester

Lt.jg Dr. Jack Slen...or "Rash'dar"

Location: Near Operations on DS5

The others were up ahead leaving Jack by himself in the rear.

The Whispers were starting to annoy him.

"I had better not be going crazy....damnit."

Apparitions around him started to swirl, and the whispers became audible.

"Hold! CONTROL!" "Take! TAKE!"

"Must control! Take his Body! Take his mind!"

Whirlwind of shadows started to overtake Jack. He instinctively started swinging at it. An immense pain entired his head and he started to collapse.

"Control...CONTROL!" He nearly shouted in a strange accent...followed by "Nobody Controls me! Stop it!"

While this had been happening, the group had moved ahead out of earshot, everyone's but Cain's.

"Doc? What the hell are you doing back there? Get up here!"

Cain backtracked a ways, walking up on Dr. Slen, on his hands and knees, quivering.

"Doc? You ok man? You know we'd be really screwed if our medic was to up and croak on us."

Slen seemed to shake it off and stand up. He had an odd look in his eyes. Cain stared for a moment then turned around. "C'mon doc, before that damn andorian decides to break our necks. I swear she scares me."

Slen smiled...muttering a single phrase. "Rash'dar...Rash'dar controls!"

"In Sheeps' Clothing"

Cmdr. James Lionel Corgan
Chief of Security

Lt. Cmdr. Brian Elessidil
Asst. Chief Counselor

Lt. jg T'lan
Security Deputy

Intoxicating was the only word that could describe what "It" was experiencing from the considerable physical and mental abilities that were now at its disposal. Every step, every sight was a tangible reinforcement of a plane of existence unavailable in non-corporeal form. And It enjoyed every sensation.

From the perspective of others in the ship's corridors, Counselor Elessidil passed swiftly, a sense of purpose evident in his gait but by no means out of place in a vessel where innumerable others often moved with similar strides. Only the smile and rapturous look in his eyes as he occasionally stopped to touch a wall or some other surface was in any way peculiar, but even for those who noticed, it was no cause for significant concern or scrutiny. It thrilled in the empathic sensations that accompanied casual observation of these others and knew that it was only a matter of time before more of Its kind could share the experience. But first, It had to find them.

They were near, It knew, Its innate ability to sense others of Its kind melded with this body's considerable telepathic skills in a perfect tool possessing almost preternatural powers of divination.

While one captured mind admired his abilities to reach outside, another mind reflected on the complexity within.

She had captured a worthy vessel in the Vulcan woman, and still she was exploring the female's strengths and weaknesses. Her mind was closed to touching the outside world psychically; the body she captured wasn't designed for mass mind manipulation and telepathy. What she did don was a computer like brain with near perfect recall, control, and mental countermeasures. She tested lightly the boundaries of the Vulcan mind, admired its vicegrip on emotion while feeding off the powerful emotions that were possible, shutting out the primal psychic screams of still corporeal minds, testing how accurately she could calculate pi in ten seconds...

Her favorite was touching others minds. It amazed her the Vulcan aptitude for small details, and it made capturing her bodyguard, the lanky, stern eyed, bespectacled security chief, much easier. Though the mind she hijacked lacked the ability to reach multiple minds without body contact, it well made up for the power... and the possibilities. Not even the original owner knew the potential.

She sensed another kindred spirit in the vicinity. While shielding her thoughts, she approached.

"This mind lacks telepathy." She plainly said to the counsellor, "You'll have to address yourself. Either way, I bid you good greetings."

From within the Betazoid's mind and body, It regarded the individual standing before him, a sinister sneer contorting Elessidil's otherwise pleasant features. At least one of the others was now here as well. And She had procured a formidable host, one with the ability to resist this host's telepathic scans. "Greetings," It replied with a bow of Its head, still reveling in the ability to speak out loud. "I have the mind and body of one they call a 'counselor', Brian Elessidil. The species is known as Betazoid and possesses strong telepathic abilities."

She introduced herself formally, "This body belonged to a Vulcan female. T'lan, a low ranking security officer." She pointed to James Corgan, a looming, brooding shadow, "This is the security chief. He is my thrall. His resistance was innovative... for a mundane, but ill suited. He will not give us trouble."

"T'lan," It repeated thoughtully, looking from the Vulcan to the human. "This mind has no knowledge of that name." Then It took a step closer to James and spoke in tone that clearly indicated interest. "But this one . . . Corgan . . . this one has access to a great amount of information that could prove very useful." Silently, It telepathically inventoried the human's mind. "Very useful indeed. You haven't damaged him too severely, I hope. We wouldn't want to lose access to anything of value."

"His mind is already damaged by past trauma. Any that I may inadvertently do is inconsequential in comparison." T'lan glibly remarked, as if talking about a house pet or a plow horse, "He has authority as well. These people listen to their chiefs of security."

It wasted no time getting to the point, speaking lowly to Her so as not to be overheard by any of the corporeals. "With the knowledge and abilities of these two individuals, as well as the information from that one, we can facilitate the arrival of the others. This ship," It said, indicating the starship that had so conveniently arrived, "it contains numerous potential hosts and the means to access countless more. We can easily subdue its inhabitants."

"Easily." T'lan smiled, her eyebrow raised curiously, "The computer has a manifest, and will be able to separate the psychics from the mundanes. That will aide in a... plan. This vessel's mind is orderly and smart. I can think fast and think well. I would like to tell you a plan I have formulated. We will need a private spot with computer access. Section 24-7b shall suffice."

"Agreed," It commented, using Brian's vision and telepathy to scan the area around them. "There are too many others here."

Leading the counsellor and the security chief to an empty room, T'lan seated herself at a computer console. She turned her head, then pointed to the far hall. James Corgan kept watch like an obedient servator, and T'lan spoke cautiously, "The mind meld technique I've acquired from this vessel can enter minds and even manipulate them, but I can only mind meld one person at a time, and it is an exhausting and slow process. However, it is a reliable method of controlling more thralls, and I can make as many as I want. We'll need more Vulcans so that we can enthrall the crew at a faster rate. More vessels like yours would be useful too. To get them, they must go willingly."

"What you say is true. Other hosts such as these will be invaluable, but they also present a challenge," the entity with the form and knowledge of Elessidil remarked. "Their abilities endow them with a certain perceptiveness; lies and fabrications cannot be as easily employed as with the mundanes. We'll need a method with no hint of subterfuge."

T'lan tilted her head to James Corgan, "He will order them to do so. The thrall has authority. He will order choice candidates to the transporter room to act as away team members. They will beam into our prison... and have no choice but to accept new spirits. Our only hurdle is that other psychics find our presence... unsettling."

"Leave that to me. This vessel is highly capable by personality and profession of setting the minds of others at ease, and he is perhaps the strongest and highest-ranking telepath on this ship. I'll employ his demeanor and skills to convince the others that what they're experiencing is an anomaly, an effect of natural causes peculiar to this region of space. I'll be able to secure my intent without being discovered and then use his credibility and authority to dispel any doubt."

T'lan nodded, "Excellent. Your abilities compliment this plan better than I thought possible."

"But what of the one who commands this crew? This vessel's knowledge of him indicates he's intelligent and tenacious -- qualities that could make him a formidable obstacle, should he come to suspect any deceptions," Elessidil thoughtfully commented. And he was right; the Captain was neither blind nor stupid.

Elessidil's question gave T'lan some pause. "We will have to subjugate him quickly. We will have only one chance to turn him without him suspecting our actions. If that fails... we will have to subdue him by force, maybe even death. If we are to neutralize that threat and use him for our purposes, it will have to be right away. It will be a risk since we have not the numbers to sufficiently defend ourselves. We will need subterfuge. For that, we will need the Security Chief. I'll arrange a meeting with the Captain using Commander Corgan. My presence will be explained as being a vital eyewitness to the events of the last away team mission. We will meet in his ready room, and enthrall him there. Nobody will hear him if he calls for his bridge crew to help, for the engineers installed soundproof walls and doors due to the ship's previous Captain..."

"Then if we need Corgan for both parts of the plan, which will be first? Subjugate the captain, or start separating the psychically-abled and the mundanes for transport?" Elessidil asked.

"We will need more of our kind first. Small transporter sized parties at first. Use your abilities to scan the potentials, see which ones are not taken by our kind. Once we have taken a few, then I can take James to talk to the Captain, and allow the others to take over. Our main problem is our lack of numbers, so this cannot be helped. But once we have a few more... we will not have to worry about numbers. We will have enough to strike quickly and take over the ship. This will happen whether or not we have the Captain. His capture will ease our task, that's all. This task will have to wait, but not long."

"Very well. Others will soon be in possession of suitable host bodies from the away teams. I will inform them of our plan and begin getting them to you and Corgan." It looked to where the security chief kept watch for them, unwittingly assisting his own captors in their plan to subjugate the entire crew . . . and eventually even more. It smiled menacingly through Its Betazoid host's visage, then took Its leave.

2846