"Session with a Skittish Engineer"

Ensign Kiel, Counselor
Ensign Mei Sime, Engineer (NPC by Lori C.)

***Counseling Offices***

Mei sat in the waiting room. She wondered if she drove Counselor Smithsonian crazy with her constant visits. Perhaps that was why when she came this time, she was given a new counselor. That didn't do much to help with her self-esteem which was not great to begin with. Now her friend, Nara, was being a jerk. Nara was one of the few people who put up with her without being irritated. Now it seems Mei had driven another over the edge.

"Ensign Sime," came a quiet, gentle voice as a blond haired youth who looked to be about twelve years of age appeared from out of the counseling offices to step lightly out into the reception area. Hazel eyes lifted off the PADD in the youth's hands as the boy looked out over the waiting room at the young Terran woman in the mustard yellow uniform. That would be his patient most likely. Great. Of all the patients Smithsonian could have pawned off on him, why did it have to be a girl in her mid-twenties? Had he pissed his co-worker off somehow? Shaking his head, the thirty-something El Aurian motioned for the engineer to come into the darkened alcove of an office that he kept. The room was not done so to create any kind of romantic atmosphere, rather the low, dispersed lighting provided a muted environment padded with deep shadows that seemed to surround and encompass the room. As if keeping the outside at bay.

Taking a seat in a chair against the wall, Kiel gestured for the woman to have a seat on the sofa that rested underneath the windows that looked out upon the space outside the ship. "I'm Counselor Kiel," the boy stated smoothly, introducing himself while a soft smile played across his simple features. He didn't wear a Starfleet uniform. Normally didn't in the performance of his duties, unless he was going outside of the ship. Like the dark room, the youth seemed enveloped in shadows. Black arms and shoulders meeting a charcoal torso that was loose, untucked, over the top of the black trousers he wore. The only sign of his service onboard the ship the comm badge pinned to the left side of his shirt. Otherwise, he'd have likely appeared like any one of the Galaxy's numerous children on board. "Is this room comfortable for you, or is it too dark," the boy inquired politely before beginning their session.

Mei looked at him worried, "Shouldn't you be in school?"

A smile slipped across his sweet, sanguine expression to slowly illuminate a silvery-blue light that reflected outward from behind the El Aurian's curious, hazel eyes as the young boy regarded the woman for a moment with a grin before answering. "I wish. I've been to school on Betazed... Vulcan Science Academy about a year later, then Starfleet Academy. After that, they told me I actually needed to 'get a job' before considering any more school stuff," Kiel explained, stifling the mirth masquerading behind his light, cheery tone even while the smile blossomed into a genuine look of amusement at the engineer's confusion.

"It probably helps, too, that I'm not -quite- human," the juvenile El Aurian confessed in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning closer to the woman as he dropped his voice to a whisper, giving her a jovial wink as he echoed Kettch's comment from his away mission of earlier. The Kowe had largely deduced the fact simply because Kiel carried himself with none of the gangly awkwardness associated with young adolescents. Human one's anyway. Straightening back in his seat, the boy casually inclined his head as he looked the woman over. She was cute, especially with the look of concern plastered across her features. "If you'd be more comfortable with another counselor, I can get in with Lieutenant Commander Elessidil or Commander Dallas," Kiel added smoothly, leaning back slightly as he made the offer without wanting to pressure the engineer toward making a decision immediately. He was here if she wanted to talk now. Or, if she didn't, he would just put on one of the other counselor's schedules. It really wasn't that big of a deal. People had any number of reasons why they did or didn't feel comfortable speaking with certain people, be those legitimate or not; it was simply how they felt. And with the ready availability of counselors on the Galaxy, there was certainly no reason why a crewman had to speak to a counselor that they were uncomfortable with.

A look of hurt crossed her face. He was trying to get rid of her too and she hadn't even told him anything yet. Looking down she spoke in a volume hardly audible, "If you want to pass me to someone else, you can."

Abandonment issues, maybe? Quirking an eyebrow, the young boy merely blinked a moment before answering with a brief, short laugh. "No... no, that's not what I meant," the youth explained in a slow, patient tone. Inclining his head to one side, he regarded the withdrawn woman for a moment before speaking again. "I just want to make sure that you're comfortable is all," he assured her, glancing away as he looked over at the replicator for a moment before looking back at Mei. "Can I get you something before we start," he asked politely, flashing a soft, quiet smile that displayed the dimple in his right cheek as he did.

She shook her head dejectedly, "I can't remember the last time I was comfortable with anyone." Well, there was Menual, but he had been transferred and told her it would be better they just break up. She offered to request a transfer as well, but he said not to endanger her career like that. He tried to make it sound as if he cared, but she wondered if he preferred to not have her around.

"Well, we'll just have to remedy that then, won't we," the young El Aurian remarked simply, flashing the engineer a brief, dazzling grin before the boy stood and made his way over to the replicator. He was thirsty. And it looked like Mei could use a drink. A stiff drink at that. "Computer, one Risan citrus starburst and one black hole," the youth ordered, removing the two drinks from the replicator a moment later as they appeared as though from thin air, having been recycled from the matter stores on the ship. They weren't actually real. Not in the sense that Kiel would have used the word 'real' anyway. The citrus starburst, a Risan drink akin to Terran lemonade, hadn't been squeezed from fresh juices after all. It was fake. Synthetic. A copy. Still, it was better than nothing.

He set the dark, sticky Ferengi drink on the small, transparent aluminum coffee table that sat in front of the sofa, where Mei could reach if she wanted. "You look like you could use a drink," the boy explained as he sat back down in the chair just off to her right, cradling the Risan drink in his hands as he looked over at the human woman. She seemed very sad, yet also gentle. When she smiled, she was probably quite attractive. "You said you can't remember the last time that you felt comfortable with someone," the young counselor echoed, picking up on Mei's earlier comment as he tried to coax a conversation along. "Why do you think that is?"

Mei shook her head, "I don't know. I have a great family and friends, but it always seems as if they rather not have me around."

The young El Aurian nodded quietly, taking a sip of his starburst as he mulled her comments over in his mind. It was a classic anxiety, really, with her last statement almost coming directly out of a textbook. "What is it about them that gives you that impression," he inquired softly, lowering the glass back down as he leaned back in his chair.

She simply shrugged. She'd been through this before. Everyone tells her it's just paranoia and all in her head. That didn't help, though.

Setting the lemonade down on the table, the youth leaned forward, propping an elbow against one knee as he rested his head against a hand, looking over at the engineer. "Just a feeling, then," the young El Aurian commented quietly, trying to think of how to coax the conversation along. They appeared to have stalled out. "Tell me about your family," he asked softly, probing gently as he sought some avenue to draw more from the ensign. "When you hear the word 'family', what comes to mind?"

"Mom and Dad. A dead brother." She said simply.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Kiel stated quietly at mention of the deceased sibling. "What happened," he asked softly, his mind already wandering to thoughts of his own family. Ones that he quickly tried to push aside. Kiel's own parents had a policy of 'they didn't try to contact him, he didn't try to contact them'. For all the good it might do. There was simply no telling just where in the universe they might be. For all he knew, he might have siblings out there among the stars. Certainly, he hoped he did. He hated to think that he was of a dying race. More than likely, such was the case.

She began to tell of her family, soon coming to tears. How her brother was in a squadron based in a starbase and died during the dominion war.

Nodding his head, Kiel quietly reached over to grab the box of tissues that normally sat off on the end table at the end of the sofa, setting the replicated, disposable tissue down in front of the engineer as he leaned forward and just listened to her story. He could tell it was going to be one of 'those' sessions from this point on. It seemed the woman was still at quite an emotional loss over the death of her brother. The boy wanted to sympathize with her, but he simply didn't know 'family' as she knew it. He didn't know much of anything about family. Indeed, if anything, he supposed he should have been envious of how important that family was to her life. He simply... couldn't live that way.

She took a tissue, "Sorry. Didn't meant to get into all that." She loudly blew her nose.

"No, that's fine," the youth offered plainly, the hint of a warm smile slightly raising the corners of his mouth. "It doesn't do us any good to keep those kinds of thoughts bottled up inside. You have to let it out sometime, before it eats you up inside," he remarked, his hazel eyes moving briefly over the chronometer on the wall. Unfortunately, he had more appointments that were due. "I'm afraid our session for today is almost over, but I would like to hear more about what's on your mind," he stated casually, standing as he prepared to escort her out of the office. "I hope you'll consider scheduling another talk with me," the boy added sincerely.

She nodded and stood, "Thank you." She did make an appointment. She hoped he would actually stick around too.

"Me, Myself and II"

Ensign Zev Raynor
Terran Telepath Intelligence Officer
Transferring to USS Galaxy

Raynor's Mental State:

Kanin Dithparu Invader / Betrayer
Raynor's Consciousness

Pariah Ronin
Raynor's True Self
Raynor's Subconscious

Madden Alternate Persona
Raynor's Subconscious

Location: USS Saint Lawrence – Danube Class Runabout
Deep Space Five – Shuttle Bay

"Anciently those called skilled in war conquered an enemy easily conquered. And therefore the victories won by a master of war gain him neither reputation for wisdom nor merit for valour. For he wins his victories without erring. 'Without erring' means that whatever he does insures his victory; he conquers an enemy already defeated. Therefore the skilful commander takes up a position in which he cannot be defeated and misses no opportunity to master his enemy." - Sun Tzu, Art of War

Kanin landed the Saint Lawrence in one of the main Shuttle bays of Deep Space Five. He found the task surprisingly simple; his host was a skilled pilot. However, he was having difficulty accessing all of the host’s memories. It would take time to explore with this host; he had many memories, some of which were not even his to begin with. Hundreds of lifetimes worth of memories stored away in this one little being, and his mind seemed to already be able to have accommodations for multiple presences, or consciousnesses. This host was more than comfortable, in a sense almost made for him. More comfortable than any other host he had ever taken. Unfortunate that he didn’t have time to explore the all his host's memories. Not with the time he had, so instead he took only the host's consciousness, and in a sense, fortified his position, concentrated his forces in the 'bridge' of the mind. He held the position of power over the body, and that is all he needed for the time being.

His most immediate objective was to ensure that he did not return to the structure, in spite of the stupidity and arrogance of his 'Kind'. He moved into the armoury and began to arm himself.

Two modernized pistols lay on the shelf, preferred weapons of this host, and Kanin had to admit they were of quality design for projectile weapons. 200 rounds per minute when set to automatic, 6 kilometres per second, 100% accurate to about 800 metres. Efficient and deadly, for a pair of side arms. However, Kanin found them primitive and crude. In spite of this he almost brought one along. The instinct of the host was remarkable. The body was trained to do things almost without thinking. His instincts, his automated processes, made taking over the body so much easier, however in its operation it proved to be nuisance, in this particular case. He moved on to arm himself with phasers…

After a few minutes of gearing up, arming himself phaser rifle, explosives, standard hostile environment armor, and a tricorder, Kanin was ready.

Meanwhile in Raynor's subconscious, two old friends were getting reacquainted. ~You know Zevy boy this is quite the predicament…~ Madden said, assessing his new situation

<This body’s name is Zev Raynor and the persona in control of it maybe called Zev Raynor. However this persona when not in control is called-> a familiar voice began to answer.

~Pariah Ronin... Your old call sign from the Coven days... I know but the whole maintain your sense of self thing you developed when I was in control, but you really should find something shorter... Pariah... some people might think your mental...~ Madden laughed, that arrogant laugh which always annoyed Pariah. ~So I assume that your hatching up a plan, to retake yourself... I hope you succeed I truly do. But only enough to tire both you and it out enough so I can emerge on top...~

<Funny...> Pariah said in a cold tone. However, though he had already had a plan, he wasn't about to launch an all out attack without learning something about his enemy, and crunching the numbers trying to determine the likelihood of success. He knew he couldn't do it for too long but still, he should at least get a vague idea of how it would turn out. He remained silent and watched Kanin’s actions with keen interest. He could spare a few minutes before his departure from the cage and his own subconscious, or so he told himself... <How about you?>

~Same old, same old...~ Madden said. There was no doubt he had his own attacks planned, but it would take time to do it his way. It was slow but effective. Annoyance, pestering, and torture were his method. It made Madden stronger, because he enjoyed it as his attacks went on. While the attacks weaken his enemy's mental defences. But it took days, months, or possibly years for it to achieve the end result. A much longer time than they had.

Pariah, however, watched and waited... not really because he needed more information or wanted to figure out the likelihood of success. It was because he was afraid. If he did what he was planning to do, he knew it would work, he just didn't know if he'd come out of it alive... His sense of morality was in conflict with his will to survive. What was the point of victory if he could not enjoy its fruits. None, yet it might be the only weapon they had against the Dithparu. He simply couldn't make up his mind, and hoped someone else would be able to come up with something. Not they often did, but he could actually feel his mortality in this moment. So he sat, watched, and waited...

His attack, if it came to that, was death... or something close enough... He prayed he would not have to use it...

So while Pariah waited, and Madden began his campagian of annoyance, Kanin emerged from the runabout ready, to face his own 'Kind', and began his approach to destroy the structure...

"Into the Toy Box, Part Two"

(Takes Place following 'Faking It' and 'Into The Toy Box, Part One)

Principal Characters

Lt. Jim Cane (NPC)
Lt. (JG) 8-ball Hunter
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Samantha Widdlestein

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 5
Shuttlecraft Hangar

Victor wasn't fond of EVA work as a general rule. The incident during the Dominion War that had required him to transfer ship-to-ship without a pressure suit had ensured that when it destroyed his lung. He had a new lung now - a better one - but the dislike for exterior work remained. Even the reconfigured Life Support Field unit that Lieutenant Grey had made for him before the mission to Breen only eased the issue. Because of that, having to cross from Deep Space 5 to the Galaxy in an EVA suit because all the boarding shuttles were already gone had done nothing to help his already worsening mood.

The realization that his suit's systems were failing less than two hundred meters away from the station because it was insufficiently shielded from the ion storm had just been another step on the way to convincing him that this was going to be one of his bad days, the ones that had led him to his opinion about the Divine. By then he'd already started the day with losing his entire Away Team to possession by alien mind parasites, and been stabbed in the neck with a hypo by one of them and only come to after she and the rest of the infected crewmen had fled the station back to the Galaxy. To make things even better, he'd had to depend on his newly-installed, illegal lung to save his life as he drifted towards the Galaxy in the unpowered EVA suit.

As he stumbled into the Hangar Deck through the atmosphere shield and felt the ship's artificial gravity take hold, he wondered how long it was going to straighten this mess out, and whether or not the other Away Teams had also been possessed.

When the two shuttle mechanics came out of the repair bays, bloody, improvised bludgeons in hand and manic, lethal smiles on their faces and started for him before he'd done more than get his helmet off, he knew it was worse than he'd thought.

When his phaser rifle failed to fire because of ionic contamination, he knew that he'd been right about the Divine, that there was only one possible thing that could explain days like today.

God hated him.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 9
Galaxy Dependent School

Lieutenant Jim Cane was born in Topeka, Kansas. He was 26 years old, just a few weeks shy of turning 27. When he was twelve, his grandfather sadly informed Jim's mother that the boy was never going to see 30. In fact, 25 was highly improbable, and 18 a small gift from God, so she should just get used to the idea now: Jim Cane was going to die young. Not because of any physical ailment or some pervasive type of neurological disorder, but simply that young Jim had the common sense that was roughly equivalent to a small wombat's. Had Edward Cane been forced to put money on the wiser of the two, he most likely would have chosen the wombat over his grandson.

This was a boy who had gotten his tongue stuck to a frozen pole not once but twice during childhood dares. He had been dumped on three separate occasions during the Academy for making the same, grave mistake: there was no such thing as 'just being honest' when it came to how said girlfriend's ass looked in her uniform that day. Furthermore, Cane had actually trusted a Ferengi to pay back a sizable amount of money, joked with a Klingon about his momma, and even somehow managed to piss off a Vulcan, a feat most would consider on the upside of impossible.

"That boy just wasn't meant to last long on this earth," Edward had been fond of saying. "It's sort of miraculous that he ain't been shot in the head already."

The miracle ended the day Jim Cane strode to the Galaxy's school, intending to trade himself for the twelve hostage children.

Good intentions don't always lead to Hell, but they certainly don't lead to happy endings, either.

****

~Kill count: Five~ Good 8-ball thought to herself as she watched Cane's body fall heavily to the floor. ~Good God, who's next?~

Apparently, the children feared that it might be them, because they immediately started to scream as soon as 8-ball shot Lieutenant Cane. This, of course, only made Evil 8-ball smile more. She turned to face the screaming children, idly twirling the phaser in hand.

"Now," she said to them, "this is your second lesson today. What I just did right then, to that nice, aw shucks looking lieutenant? Absolutely the wrong thing to do, no question about it. That was completely screwed up. You must understand that when you plan on killing someone, you might get excited or over-eager while you wait for them to arrive. Then, if you aren't careful, you might rush the whole thing and kill your innocent victim instantaneously, like I just did. I think we can all see how that's just not any fun. You need to remember this the next time you want to kill someone, because I want you to truly be able to experience the true pleasure that is murder. Homicide, my dear children, is an art form, and not one to just be blindly wasted like that. You should always kill your victims as slowly as humanly possible, because what's the point if you don't get to feed off any pain?"

As many of the kids did not feel reassured by this lesson, the screaming continued. 8-ball widened her smile as she pointed the phaser at them.

"Now we're going to have some quiet time," 8-ball said. "And if we don't, I'm going to make all of your deaths take a lot longer than that Lieutenant's."

As the kids quickly shut up, 8-ball hit her comm badge, again opening it to all frequencies. "This is 8-ball again, still in Kid Central, and I gotta say, I'm pretty disappointed with what I got. I mean, I hold twelve innocent lives over your heads, and the only person who comes is some meaningless lieutenant from Ops? I wouldn't trade a dog's life for that walking pile of insignificant shit... well, I guess he's not really walking anymore, is he? I hope the next person who comes to play is much more entertaining, otherwise I'm going to have to start amusing myself, and the best way to do that usually involves blood loss and dismemberment. So if you'd like your children to remain more or less intact, I'd send someone on there way."

8-ball turned to look at the bound and bleeding Samantha, still wriggling to escape in the jump ropes she was caught in. "I think I know who I'll play with first," 8-ball said, and hit her comm badge, killing the channel.

Samantha glared back at her because she knew that she had to keep angry if she wanted to get through this. The cut on her face burned but she knew that it was nothing that Sickbay couldn't fix; she was more concerned about dying. That was somewhat trickier to cure.

Already, she was playing in her mind how this would work out in her romance novel, edited a bit so that the evil Vulcan was an evil henchmen the size of a small mountain whom the heroine would dispatch of in a gruesome, yet totally necessary, fashion. The manner of death changed from minute to minute depending upon what the bitch said next.

She really hoped the next person that showed up could make Hunter, or whatever was inside of Hunter, hurt really bad.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 7
Victor Krieghoff's Quarters

Victor looked at his blood-stained EVA suit still lying on the floor of his quarters. All of the equipment he'd had with him on DS5 was dead. Comm badge, phaser rifle, EVA suit tricorder, the lot of it, with one exception: the old style Phaser 1 he'd carried for a long time now. It was apparently so old its circuitry wasn't affected. He was just glad he'd refused the issue of one of those damn hazard suits that had almost killed him on Mirusa VI - if that had shorted out inside his EVA suit, he'd be dead now.

Based on the two mechanics he'd left unconscious in a locker back on the hangar deck, the whole ship was filled with infected crewmen, which was bad. Worse, since he knew who'd been on the Away Teams to DS5, there were Command officers that were almost certainly infected... including Commander Corgan. Which meant at any moment now, he could expect that ship-issue phasers would stop working once Corgan entered the override codes and locked out anyone that wasn't one of the possessed. Better and better.

He'd briefly considered unpacking the rifle he'd replicated to do battle with the Hydran sappers on the hull of the Galaxy during the battle to escape Breen, but decided against it. Instead he'd make do with the old-style phaser and the compressed tetryon beam pistol he'd brought back from his undercover assignment with Attendant K'vala. If he needed more firepower than that, he'd take it away from someone else.

The door to his quarters closed and locked behind him as he started down the hall to the stairs - trusting the turbolift at this point seemed foolish. He'd almost made it when the shipwide broadcast sounded: =/\= ""This is 8-ball again, still in Kid Central, and I gotta say, I'm pretty disappointed with what I got. I mean, I hold twelve innocent lives over your heads, and the only person who comes is some meaningless lieutenant from Ops? I wouldn't trade a dog's life for that walking pile of insignificant shit... well; I guess he's not really walking anymore, is he? I hope the next person who comes to play is much more entertaining, otherwise I'm going to have to start amusing myself, and the best way to do that usually involves blood loss and dismemberment. So if you'd like your children to remain more or less intact, I'd send someone on there way." =/\=

Victor frowned. Children. If no one responded... five seconds passed... ten... He keyed his replacement comm badge, the old, shorted out one on the floor with the EVA suit and other ionic radiation contaminated gear he'd discarded.

=/\= "I don't play games," =/\= Victor responded, not caring that his voice slipped from its normal register and into the range where merely hearing him speak made people flinch away. =/\= "But I do make promises. If you hurt the children, I'll kill you - the real you, not the girl that you're marching around like a puppet. Do you understand?" =/\=

Without waiting for the reply, he sped up.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 9
Galaxy Dependent School

=^="...If you hurt the children, I'll kill you - the real you, not the girl that you're marching around like a puppet. Do you understand?" =/\=

~Ooh~ Anlaika thought. ~This one sounds like fun.~

Good 8-ball laughed dully at this. ~That's Vicky "Death" Krieghoff you're talking about, you psychotic bitch. The original Mr. McBroody himself. The one thing he emphatically is, is NOT fun. Don't be looking to have a good time when he comes in.~

~He did not sound like a weak enemy~ Joe Satan replied. The "death effect" tone of Victor's voice seemed to have spooked him pretty bad. ~Perhaps a retreat is in order.~

~A retreat?~ Anlaika asked. ~When it's just starting to get good? And people call me insane. Besides, this is just the opportunity we're looking for. After I have some fun and torture him a bit, we can turn him to our side and further the mission, since that's all you seem to care about. He'd be a great ally.~

~If he doesn't kill you first~ Good 8-ball said.

~He bluffs. He can't kill us without killing you, and I'm sure he wouldn't dare to kill you.~

~Don't be so sure. I don't know him that well. I'm probably not one of his sheep.~

Anlaika ignored this. =^= "Oh, 8-ball to Victor, 8-ball to Victor, anyone home?" =^=

Victor stopped at the door to a residential apartment as someone inside screamed, overrode it, and phasered both the woman with the knife and the man attacking her with some sort of Klingon sword that Victor didn't recognize. He didn't have time to sort out which was possessed and which wasn't. =/\= "Yes?" =/\=

=/\= "Nice to see that you're still around. I can't wait to meet you in person. 8-ball's told me so much about you, and I just have to see you in the flesh. You sound like such a handsome man. Any chance you'll ram down that door with your uniform off?" =/\=

What was it with the female entities and sex? First the one possessing Ensign Kio had brought it up, and now this one? Victor had essentially gone his entire life without it, and he was just fine - what was their problem? =/\= "No." =/\=

=^= "Pity," =^= Evil 8-ball said. =^= "Tell you what. Since you're SO concerned with these children, I'll offer you a trade. Come alone, without any weapons, and let me play with you awhile, and I'll let you all the children go, all unhurt and undead."=^= 8-ball looked at Sam and smiled. =^= "Except maybe that one. I really enjoy playing with Miss Samantha Widdlestein." =^=

Widdlestein. Of course it had to be Widdlestein; the child couldn't walk around the corner without getting into trouble. =/\= "I already told you," =/\= Victor replied as he dropped down a Jefferies Tube, past what looked like the body of a blonde Engineering rating and stopped on Deck 9, =/\= "I don't play games." =/\= He looked out into the corridor, saw two security personnel moving down it under arms and talking about going to Sickbay to check out the Nursery, and stunned them down without blinking, and then stuffed them in a storage locker and slagged the lock. =/\= "But if you let them go - all of them - then I'll see what I can do to keep you entertained." =/\= He hoped Lieutenant Hunter would forgive him for the injuries when everything was said and done.

"You're in trouble now." Samantha told the possessed Vulcan with a smirk.

8-ball turned to look at the little brat. "Oh, be quiet, little thing," she said. "Mommy's trying to talk to Daddy now." This went entirely unheeded.

"I certainly hope all your affairs are in order, Lady." Samantha jeered. "They're gonna have to scrape you off the windows with a squeegee when he's done with you."

8-ball walked back over to Samantha and backhanded her across the face. "I'm not sure this new man's worth letting you go," she said as she stood the girl back up on her feet. Before Samantha could attempt to run or kick or do anything, 8-ball slapped her again, hard enough to knock the girl back to the ground.

"I don't really like you. I think I might like you more if you were split open from here---" 8-ball dragged the tip of the knife over Samantha's stomach, "to here." 8-ball held the knife for a moment at Samantha's neck and stared at her, debating with herself whether she should just plunge the thing through the girl's throat and be done with it.

"Oh, what the hell," 8-ball said and lifted the knife away. "It'd be fun to watch you scream, but I think watching Mr. McBroody himself might be even more entertaining." She stepped away from Sam and hit her comm. =/\= "All right,"=/\= 8-ball said. =/\= "If you come here and let me play with you, I'll let the children go. All of them, even Miss Samantha herself. Agreed?" =/\=

"Agreed," Victor said quietly from the doorway behind her, the words slicing through the room like frozen razors for fear thrown free as the gates to Hell opened wide.

"Controlling"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell hosting unnamed Dithparu

***DS5 Corridors***

It seemed pointless to try to overtake the people on the station, There were only a handful compared to how many could be on the starship. Not to mention, once they had control of the ship, they would actually have transportation.

The being had successfully scanned Nara's mind. Something odd she found were hours of telepathic training and practice that her host never, actually, experienced. The creature who infused that into Nata would make an excellent host, as would his whole race. She would recommend the Dithparu go after them next. To take them and their living ship leviathans would be most profitable!

That whole idea hit Nara. These Dithparu were heartless, cruel, formidable, and ambitious. They had to be stopped. Good thing was, they also overestimated themselves and underestimated everyone else. She kept struggling and pushing against the walls.

To the Dithparu's displeasure, Nara's fighting was getting stronger and starting to cause some pressure. She felt Nara's weariness and her stubborness. She could just push her very far back to where she wasn't a nuisance, but she needed access to Nara's mind to match Nara's movements, personality and accent among other things that made Nara unique and identifiable as "her."

One thing this Dithparu admitted to was that they were not always perfect in this matching of their hosts' personality and essence. It was one reason she only suppressed the mind enough to control and only suppressed it to silence when time for disquise was no longer needed.

She hoped that time was soon.

So for now, keeping Nara only suppressed enough to have full control of actions and words and basically ignored, unless she needed to extract information, the Dithparu walked down the corridors.

The half Betazoid host was weak, but growing stronger in will. She was still not near strong enough for the control the Dithparu had over her body. She would eventually wear herself mentally to death. Which was of no consequence to the plan. There were plenty of hosts on the ship.

If anything, she could share a body. She preferred solo occupancy as she never liked anyone else's ideas on what to do with a body. Not to mention some other Dithparu were so excited over a new plaything, they forgot the whole objective.

"Finding Purpose, Finding Desire"

By: Kaya Akauki
Admiral Syaroan Akauki.

=-=

**Febuary 13th, 2378**

Syaroan Akauki eased his weight upon polished oak table before him, his uniform remaining crisp and natural. On the corner of his blue collar sat a series of two pips surrounded by a rectangular border, indicating that he was a flag officer of Starfleet. He was an imposing figure, with obvious signs that he was in at least his sixty's. As soon as he saw her enter his office he greeted her with a pleased smile, "Good Morning, Kaya..." he said, gesturing for her to take a seat in front of him. It sounded like he was about to continue on with her last name, but stopped, for obvious reasons. Kaya could imagine how difficult that she received her own family name from his daughter, Aki. He continued, "Please take a seat."

Kaya reached the front of the table and came to a full attention, eyes front, just as she had been trained at San Seti. "Aye, Admiral." She repl! ied, swiftly lowering herself into a smaller seat behind her.

The Admiral eyed her for a moment, obviously eying the pattern of her own flesh. The mixed complexity of white, orange, and purple. He was analyzing her, and to be frank it made her uncomfortable. But she remained firm and still, returning his gaze with an incredible strike of respect. After a few linguring seconds, he continued. "My daughter tells me that you would be interested in becoming a Starfleet Officer. Obviously your situation is a bit... unique, however she also tells me that you're one of the brightest and capable individuals she's met, to no fault of her expertise. But that doesn't answer a very important question, why?"

Kaya resisted the urge to shift in her seat, rather remained as still as she was. Her lips started to show signs of movement, and then stopped unexpectatly as sh! e thought more carefully about her answer. "I'm looking for a purpose, sir."

Syaroan's brows rose high, "A purpose?"

Kaya nodded, "Ever since we were... deemed unusable for what we were created for, I've been searching for a new purpose. Aki believes that joining Starfleet would give me that."

The Admiral leaned forward upon the desk, intertwining his fingers as he poured his glance into hers. She felt almost like she was being violated, as if he was looking into her soul... if GELF's had a soul, that was. She still wasn't sure. "Do you believe that a career in Starfleet will give you the sort of purpose you desire?" When it looked like she couldn't answer the question, he asked again. "Do you even know what you desire, Ms. Akauki? He continued, although him calling her by her given last name surprised her, causing her to stir in her seat! for the first time.

Kaya looked down to the floor, to her feet, and thought carefully. The seconds seemed to tick slowly, and suddenly she felt like she had been in his office for a very long time. "I desire purpose, Sir."

Admiral Akauki eased back into his chair, obviously disappointed by her answer. "I believe that you're telling me the truth, Kaya. But it is important for any Starfleet Officer to at least have some idea about what they expect of themselves... obviously in your situation, something like that is hard, but still necessary to expect this early in your development. This makes reaching a decision very difficult." He looked back up towards her, "If you were accepted to the academy, what sort of field would you apply for?"

"I'm already a soldier, Admiral."

The Admiral nodded, "Yes yes... but that's what you were designed for. What about what has made you, you since then?"

Kaya's brows furrowed, "Sir?"

He repeated himself, being more specific this time around. "You are ten years old, and you appear to be much older in the physical respect. But in those ten years, despite all the conditioning you've received, I'm certain that there is something that sets you apart from the rest of your kind. Don't necessarly believe that you should do what you know you're good at, consider what you would do if you could make the choice yourself. I think this goes back to my original question, what do you desire?"

Kaya realized by now that her mental image of a professional posture had fallen out of favor with her body. He was making her think so heavily, challanging everything she was raised for, how was she supposed to give him an answer so quickly?

What did ! she desire, that didn't involve a predetermined purpose? Suddenly it struck her evenly, as if an explosion of individuality suddenly broke through her conditioning. She looked up towards her could-be superior, and replied firmly. "I want to find a cure for the disease, so that no more of us will die because of it."

The Admiral seemed surprised, "Gelf Syndrome... I've heard of it. How will you find a cure for this disease, when so many others have tried and failed?"

Kaya responded after an appropriate pause, "Because if I fail, my kind will be extinct within 20 years... maybe sooner."

Syaroan smiled again, which made her feel a bit better. "It seems that you've finally found purpose Ms. Kaya Akauki. So that means you'll be applying for science, correct?

"Yes Sir."

The Admiral remained silent for a while, considering their conversation, as well as an immeasurable number of variables involved with her application. For a moment, she was afraid that this had all been for nothing, a ploy of some sort with an intension she could not easily identify.

"Very well, I'll forward your application to the academy and place a strong recommendation for your acceptance." He rose from his chair, prompting her to do the same. She expected him to bid her farewell with the same military customs she had came to master, but rather, he extended his right hand towards her. Kaya stared at his offer with uncertainty, and reluctantly rose her own hand to shake his.

"Welcome to Starfleet, Cadet." He replied again, "Now I suppose that in some odd way, you're part of the Akauki family. My daughter, Aki, was pretty insistent on that, so she asked me to inform you that we're having dinner tonight, and she'! d like you to come."

Kaya felt like the world was spinning far too quickly now. "Oh, Sir I couldn't possibly..."

"She also told me that you haven't been able to locate a place of your own yet outside of the room provided to you by the program, and since I wouldn't call those sort of accomodations a home, I'll also invite you to live with us until your application is accepted, from where you'll move onto campus." He saw her ready to protest again, "Dinner is at seven, don't be late Ms. Akauki."

What else could she say to that? Only a very simple reply could reach her train of thought. "Aye, Sir."

"Destiny in Darkness"

Lieutenant JG Miramon Terrik, Chief Navigation Officer

Second Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile, Recon Specialist

Ensign Claria, Counselor, host to Ioa, Dithparu

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

Deck 14, USS Galaxy

What is one man's life worth? One? Ten? A destroyed future? It was ironic that the challenge of survival wouldn't come from humans alone but rather an alien mind in human bodies. The corridors was the huntingground. A ritual of manhood. He felt it. That dark and terrible pressure. The voice calling for his doom.

He liked it.

The body moved freely. The mind it captured willingly retreated. Claria was surrounded by a dark looming dread. She couldn't what was happening, so allowed her mind to melt into unconsciousness rather than watch in horror.

To this, Ioa was pleased. It made things simpler. The halls were not as busy as she'd hoped. She stopped at a Turbolift door and pressed a button deciding to try a different deck. Then she felt him. A smile graced her host's lips as she reached out telepathic energy toward him. She felt no fear on him. He would be most fun to overcome.

The corridors had been turned into a silent nightmare. The lights flickered on and off although off seemed to be the guiding rule for them. Silence walked the corridors of the Galaxy, a terror without face and body. In the midst of all he moved, seeing the world through new eyes and with a mind sharper and deadlier than ever. Baile walked without hiding. It wasn't needed.

The flickering lights gave him all the help he needed. Baile stopped and turned his head from side to side in one slow move. He could almost touch it here. The viciousness, the evil. Leaning against the wall he waited. The game had begun now. Carefully he took off the worn hat, folded it and placed it in a pocket.

She turned away from the Turbolift door just before it opened. She looked at where she sensed he was.

How coy. He waited for her.

Using a haunting mix of her voice and Claria's, she called out, "It is so fun when the prey think they are the hunter."

The marine didn't reply. What would be the use? Instead he waited. The closer she got the calmer he became. Colonel Caileb had called it Null-zone. A place where the mind left the fighting to instincts.

She frowned. She focused on his mind.

The smile returned as she sensed him. A simple mind bent on one thing. How she wished he were telepathic. He would be very beneficial to their cause. She came closer and looked him in his strange eyes with her own empty ones. "They hold you back here. I can promise you freedom to hunt down many."

Seconds passed as the marine looked at what most likely would become his opponent. Casually shifting his weight from one leg to the other he shrugged. "So what's in it for me? Besides easy killing?"

Although he'd never been a fan of watching human movies, Miramon had to admit that the scene that welcomed him as he stepped onto the deck was definitely something that might have been drawn from one of their psychological thrillers. The lights were flashing on and off, not in any particular sequence, but more as though the power shunts were fluctuating. Chief O'Shea was going to go nuts when she found out - they'd been doing it on the turbolift as well. The corridors were perfectly quiet, as though it were the middle of the night instead of during the afternoon as it was according to the ship's chronometers.

The Bajoran chuckled lightly in amusement to shake the sudden feeling of wariness that he could feel contorting his stomach. It was ridiculous, being at all bothered by the simply flickering of lights. And a lot of the crew were at their duty stations or over with the Away Teams on DS5, so it was only natural that the corridors felt a little empty right now. As soon as he reached the crew lounge, though, he'd no doubt see a few people about to talk to, to make the place feel a little less desolate. Even so, he couldn't help but increase the pace of his footsteps so that he would get there just a little faster...

There was just nobody around. He walked into the crew lounge, the doors moving aside with a hiss, but the large room was empty, and the lights were off. Apparently not everyone was on duty. His eyes narrowed gently, but he shrugged. He'd go to Ten Forward anyway. There were always people in there, regardless of the hour. He turned around and walked out with that same firm tread, although his legs felt a little shakier. He mentally cursed his own nerves. This didn't feel right.

His thoughts were turned inward for a moment, so much so that his attention was not particularly on the corridor as he continued walking. Out of the corner of eye, there was a flicker of movement that was there and just as suddenly gone. He stopped with a jolt of motion, as though being drawn out of a careful dream. He hadn't heard anything, but there was definitely movement there. Somewhat bemused at his slow reaction, he pulled his jacket tighter across his shoulders and set off down the deck after whatever that been the cause of that movement. It was so dark around here without the lights on as a constant. Since his eyes couldn't adjust fast enough to match the sudden flickers of light, he wasn't able to see anything whatsoever. At least, not clearly.

"That's a mighty big offer that... " the marine replied after a few seconds. He remained standing in the same casual way, slightly leaning on one leg. Idly he scratched his unshaved chin. "But you see, I could be talking to the janitor for all I know.. "

"This host is a counsellor. But the host is irrelevant. We are a powerful race. Telepaths become our slaves, weak minds our conscripts. We kill all who can become neither." She got closer still. He could feel the breath of Ioa's host on his lips. "Let me put this simply. Join us, and fulfil your deepest, darkest desires." She back away and stood at the host's full height, "Or die. Simple as that."

Miramon stopped as he was about to turn the corner to the turbolift. There were voices there. Thank the Prophets, someone is around, he thought with a smile. But the last few words chilled his blood. That definitely wasn't what you'd consider friendly banter between two comrades. The promise of violence immediately brought his guard up.

Baile's face turned from expressionless to what could remotely be described as a sly smile with a very unpleasant undertone to it. "It never gets old, does it?" he asked jovially and folded his arms across his chest. "The whole 'we're powerful and evil - everyone else beware..'.. what's the phrase?" he snapped his fingers "Resistance is futile, is that it?"

She gave a smile of her own and used mental energy to put a vice on his mind. She was sure he wouldn't mind the pain. She had a feeling he was as sadistic as her people, but non-the-less, it showed she was playing no game.

The Bajoran didn't like the sound of that. And all he'd wanted was a hot cup of Jumja tea, too. Ah well. The tea would apparently have to wait. He stepped out from his position near the wall, moving into physical view of the two individuals that were having their 'conversation', as though you might consider it a civil exchange. His blue eyes glared out with all the authority he could muster as he looked at both of them in turn.

"A bit of a curious place to be acting out Holodeck fantasies, don't you think? You should wait until you're both off-duty for play-acting", he observed with something of a half-amused smile. He wasn't sure that was what was going on, but he couldn't see Starfleet officers being crazy enough to actually threaten each other in the way he had heard a moment ago.

The marine turned his head towards the newcomer, putting his new eyes on full display. The effect was unnerving. Every time the lights went out his eyes seemed to hold the missing lights for a fraction of a second. "Leave Buddy boy... " Baile didn't care if he left or not, but at least he had given fair warning whether it be friend or foe.

With his eyebrow being raised slightly as he heard the response of the male officer, Miramon shrugged and assumed a much sterner tone. He'd barely had a second to see the features on the man's face, but he didn't like what he'd seen of the man's expression. There was something feral about it. Even so, he had seen the rank insignia on the officer's collar, and he wasn't happy with being addressed like that.

"I wouldn't advise addressing a superior officer as 'Buddy Boy', Lieutenant. Now, what's going on here?" He knew, technically, his own rank was also lieutenant, but the marine corps lieutenancy was slightly different from fleet lieutenancy, and Miramon knew he outranked the man, who was equivalent to a fleet ensign. And insubordination had definitely not been called for.

He remained leaning against the wall, still looking relaxed. The mans heartbeat sounded like thunder to Baile. If he ever got a hold of the bastards who poked his eyes out he'd ask them, in a very painful way, why the hell he could hear peoples heartbeats. "Alright, then I'll call you Sandy, how's that? Now listen here, Sandy.. go find yourself a shuttle and play officer for the people who gives a flying fuck.." Maybe not the most diplomatic thing to say, but inside Baile was on fire. He had to struggle not to go all out on the two present. His body, no his entire being ached to tear them to pieces.

Miramon's eyes widened slightly at the sheer aggressiveness of the man's tone - sure, you expected the odd rough diamond in the marine corps, but insubordination to an officer was frowned upon in the marines even moreso than in the fleet ranks. Internally, he felt about ready to cuff the guy around the jaw, but after berating the man for insubordination, that would hardly be appropriate. Besides, this was a Federation vessel, not a Klingon Bird of Prey.

Even though he resisted the temptation, his fists clenched involuntarily and he took a single step forward towards the man. "That will be enough of that, Lieutenant. Any more and I will report you to your unit commander. Is that understood?"

Looking at Miramon's closed fists Baile slowly shook his head. "You don't want to do that, Sandy..." Baile's voice was calm, but there was something in the way he was that spoke to the deepest and most primitive of survival instincts in the audience. It was one of those moments in time where you just know you are standing on the brink of your own death.

Ioa watched all this for a moment. She sized them both up.

The Killer clearly didn't like the interruption. She had hoped he would do what his primitive side dictated, but he had some sort of mercy. Not a compassionate mercy, but a mercy nontheless.

She looked at the Bajoran. He was getting angry. Anger was an emotion that could be used to her advantage. She looked into his mind. She was disappointed. He was too polite and disciplined to actually hit this man.

Unless the other hit him first. She looked at the killer. She spoke to his mind. He may not understand the words, but he would be effected by the primitive rage she fed him adding to his natural own. ~You don't need him. Get it over with.~

The marine was still leaning against the wall, but every fibre in his body screamed, tugged and pushed him to do something. Remaining calm took its toll, but soon he'd let it all out. An explosion in violence and anger. Slowly he turned to the possessed woman and smiled. "Or else?"

~I will. Then it will be your turn as I will see I made a mistake and you are just as weak as them.~ She spoke to him keeping the smile on her face.

Baile pushed himself from the wall, an annoyed frown forming on his face. "Now I'm fucking insulted.. I didn't know I came across as a guy who gives a fuck about what you do to Sandy here.. "

~Just a fair warning.~ She intensified the vice grip on their minds. She didn't know why she didn't think of this with the host's boyfriend. It was much more fun.

The Bajoran officer watched the marine speak to thin air, clearly having a conversation that was strangely one-sided, although his eyes were turned towards the woman and it was as though he were addressing someone who was not speaking aloud. His eyelids narrowed suspiciously, and he thought for a moment about calling security and having them both put under observation until they could work out what was going on. As it was, he would still have been justified reporting the marine to security as a result of insubordination, something which certainly wasn't looked upon very well within the corps. Even so, he wasn't exactly a pushover himself - nobody that had been alive and in Bajoran space during the Occupation could have been, aside from the collaborators that were happy to accept such a fate.

His fists unclenched with an effort, and he stared at the two of them with a reserved detachment, trying to work out what be the most acceptable course of action under the circumstances. He was surprised that with the marine squaring up to him and the Bajoran himself not planning on backing down, the woman hadn't spoken either way. Something didn't feel right about the whole situation, but he had to remain in control here, unless he wanted to report to Sickbay while the marine spent the time contemplating the inside of a brig cell.

"Marine, I have no idea what is going on here, nor whom you are addressing, but either way, I am ordering you to stand down. Posturing won't do you any good, and further insubordination isn't going to make me inclined towards leniency when your CO hears of this. I'm frankly surprised you'd even considering acting like this given how dimly the marine corps tends to view such acts. Now, you are going to cool down?"

She smiled. She focused her mind on the Bajoran and spoke. "I've angered him. Perhaps you could show me to my quarters please? I'm sure he'll calm down once we leave." She had used Claria's voice only. She would get back to this other one later. The Bajoran would be easier. She had already started projecting negative emotions onto him.

The Marine grinned at the Bajoran and seemingly ignored the woman standing in front of him. "Cool down.." Baile mimicked and fell silent for a second while his face grew expressionless. "Trust me, Dolly. I'm being nice right now...cut your losses and haul your ugly ass out of my sight while you still can." Fighting both would be a waste of time, but if it couldn't be avoided then so be it. Perhaps the whole situation could have been avoided with a more diplomatic choice of words, but he had never liked Bajorans. Or Klingons. Or Romulans. Or even humans for that matter. He basically hated everyone and everything.

Miramon's hand moved up to his head, which was suddenly throbbing. Maybe he'd needed that tea more then he thought. He looked sharply at the marine, internally warring between the impulse to walk up to him and smack him in the mouth, and the woman's suggestion of just walking away. His jaw clenched a moment, then he gave a short, almost derogative laugh.

"Alright. You know exactly what I want to do right now, but by the Prophets, I won't give you the satisfaction. I'm not going to stoop to it. You can expect to be hearing from your CO in a few hours."

Yeah, that was the way to do it. Walk away calmly, rather than brawling with a subordinate that could certainly give the Bajoran a run for his money. Let the chain of command handle this, at least once the damn lights got fixed. No problem. With a raised eyebrow, the CONN officer turned and headed in the other direction, heading back to the same turbolift he'd used to get down to the deck first time around.

OOC- Backpost slightly due to where the current plot began

"Sleeping Awake"
By: Pilot O'Connor,
Ensign Kiel,
and Ensign Vortas

No matter how hard he tried, it seemed as though Ayden couldn't find sleep. At first he thought that it was the excitement from his new assignment, but as the hours ticked by, he began to doubt it. There was something... disturbing, especially about these flashes and dizzyspells he's been having. The doctors believed they were results of sleep deprivation, and while he hadn't necessarly been getting a lot of sleep, he certainly didn't feel like he wasn't getting enough.

He layed on his bed for hours, watching the chronometer shift from the early 2100 hours to 0400 hours. Heaving an internal sigh, he finally gave up and decided it would be best to just get ready for work. As he pulled the sheets off him, sat up over the side of the bed, he felt that damn headache linguring around again. There was another thing that the doctors hadn't been able to resolve, it was all too damn frustrating.

Putting himself up onto his feet, he felt unstable for a moment as his vision blurred into a dark void for a second as though he was going to pass out. He caught himself on the bedrail, shaking his head until his vision started to clear up. "What the hell..." he uttered before the darkness came even quicker this time, sending him to the ground with a solid thud.

***Approximately an hour later***

After an eternity of rest, he was finally awake...

Standing up with ease, he surveyed his surroundings to find an empty room, with containers scattered along the wall. This host had just arrived in order to see the destruction of his new home, as well as his own inevitable end. As this parasite of the mindwalkers searched through the broken memories of what was once Ayd! en O'Connor, he mused in satisfaction. There were so many hardships that this one had endured through life, and yet none through war or battle. It was an internal strife, intermixed with those he had once loved and cared for.

He stepped towards the restroom to see the face of his host. There was always a dark sense of enjoyment in looking through the eyes of a creature that he would soon destroy. It was a young face, naive of many experiences which had made him an entity to be reckoned with. ~So young, and yet they seem to get younger with every "tra'knet" performed by the Dithparau.

The others would have emerged alongside this one, imbedded inside all who were sensitive to the Great Gift. Such a wonderful, blessed thing, that would now bring about the undue and destruction of this mighty vessel... the Galaxy.

~Ah, so you are a pilot... and well ! trained in sidearms~ He mused. ~Let us see what you are a pilot of~

The doors opened to reveal a blinding light that took his eyes a moment to adjust to. It had been so long since he had seen such a illuminating glow, so much that they brought him discomfort. This would be the first thing he would put a stop to, their power... because without power... all creatures would whither and die.

The first thing one was apt to notice about the Galaxy's apprentice counselor was his apparent lack of respect for uniform regulations, once they got over the shock of seeing what looked like a twelve year old human boy in a Starfleet uniform to begin with. Of course, it wasn't often one found him -in- uniform to begin with. One of the perks of being a psychologist. A pair of bright blue and silver sunglasses were propped atop the spiked blond hair that stood out from his head. His tunic was unzip! ped, revealing the untucked uniform shirt that was open at the collar of the faux turtleneck. A wood bead bracelet visible on his left arm. Hands tucked into the pockets of his uniform trousers as he schlummed his way down the corridor, a Terran musical instrument slung across his back.

The broad, polished wood body stood out from over his left shoulder, with a slender neck jutting out from behind the kid's right thigh. The guitar had an antique look to it, which it was. Something he'd learned to play on Earth that he'd enjoyed so much that he'd picked up the guitar at a San Francisco curio shop he'd found. He hadn't played as much as when he'd been in the Academy band, though, which was a shame. Kiel found the guitar relaxing. Not the jarring, heavy chords of the electric guitar variant of the instrument; but the classical sound of well tuned acoustic rifts echoing across time. Tucking his tongue under, the young adolescent El ! Aurian blew lightly as a bright pink bubble suddenly appeared from out of his mouth. There was a sharp cracking sound as the bubble popped, the boy unconsciously drawing the gum back into his mouth with a flick of his tongue, his jaw moving steadily as he chewed on the Terran candy.

Glancing up, the youth could see another figure moving down the hallway. Not exactly a strange occurance. This was a Galaxy-class starship after all. Kiel wouldn't have thought anything of it, except for the fact that there was something... familiar about the man. Something that didn't immediately connect inside the El Aurian's head, except that it wasn't from this ship. Which, it couldn't be from any other ship since this was his first. That left the Academy, or before. Somehow, Kiel doubted anyone he met while he'd been wandering would be walking down a random hallway on this ship. Not many of them had been human, for one thing. "Hey, wha'sup," the ! kid greeted the stranger with a jovial tone of voice. A second burst of pink appeared and popped as the boy blew another gum bubble, craning his neck to look up at the man with his cool, shifting color eyes. They were actually hazel, but seemed to change with variation in the lighting.

Kiel most likely would have let things go at that, but an odd notion suddenly came to mind, one that the boy in turn posed at the stranger he was speaking to. "You were class of 2378, weren't you?"

Ayden lingured in his step, the question dangling in his mind while he searched for its meaning. "Class of 2378?" He replied with only enough degree in his voice to be overheard by the person behind him, his voice chilled with the tone of something very ancient. He pivoted slowly to face what appeared as a small boy, staring up at him with ignorant eyes, unaware of the menace that had joined with the lives of this vessel's inhabitants.

The meaning behind the boy's question eluded him, and searching through the volume of Ayden's mind would prove too obvious a hinderence in favor of another viable option. "You are familiar to him... to me." he replied coldly, finding the boy's features to remind him of something within Ayden's past.

Okay, on the creep-o-meter, that scored a seven. Kiel blinked his hazel eyes, shaking his head in confusion as he question whether he'd even heard the man correctly. The guy was being funny, right? Looking back up at the stranger, the young El Aurian was beginning to be of the mind that there was something decidedly -off- about this man. For one thing, that voice really didn't fit him. And who referred to themselves in the third person anyway? Much less corrected themselves for it. Nope, this dude was serious. Very, very serious, Kiel realized as the youth looked up into the red-tinged eyes of the larger adult.

Why did he doubt that was pink eye?

Overall, Kiel had a bad feeling about this. Any other time, he'd have asked if the guy was okay. In this case, however, he got the distinct impression it was time to exercise the better part of valor. "Uh huh," he exhaled, with a nod, taking a step backward. Then another. "Well, see ya," the young counselor stated simply, pivoting on his heel and setting off down the hallway. Soon as he got back to his quarters, he was going to try and scope out just who that dude was. Something was royally screwed here. The last time that Kiel had had this... feeling... it had been on the Argo. Deja vu? Deja done was more like it.

"Stop!" Commanded Ayden in a dangerously sinister tone. He took a step forward, allowing his foot to run hard into the ground, his arms clenched by his side, ready to thrash out towards this small childlike being in a second's notice. "I! f you leave so soon, then I won't be able to turn you." From that, a dark grin formed between where Ayden's friendly smile used to exist. "You will not become, one of us..."

"Yeah, NO," Kiel snapped, breaking into a run down the hallway. At least, as much of a run as he could manage with the neck of the frickin' guitar smacking against the back of his leg. That creep-o-meter reading had definately jumped another point on the scale. Dude seriously needed a check-up from the neck up.
Damn, how bad was that diagnosis coming from a psychologist? Albeit, one still in training... but hey, it counted.
Barely before Kiel could round the corner, a sudden snag jerked him into a near fall against the bulkhead. Ayden had an advantage in this pursuit, and that was that he wasn't nearly as vertically challanged as his prey. With his arms outstretched, he grabbed for whatever he could, in this case, whate! ver musical instrument the boy was carrying. "I have you now!" He growled, reaching towards Kiel's head with his free hand.

"Says you," the young El Aurian remarked, forcing his body to relax as he dropped his weight, sliding out of his uniform tunic and from underneath the guitar strap. Not to be satisfied with momentary freedom however, the boy also drove his elbow back at what he hoped would be the sweet spot between psycho-pilot's legs. Then it was time to relive the Academy triathlon from his sophomore year, as the youth pounded down the corridor.

Wait? Why was he running? He needed to be calling security on fuckhead's ass. As he sprinted, Kiel's hand flew to his chest. And then he remembered. The commbadge was on his uniform tunic. Which was back there with senor psychopath. Along with the guitar. "Oh, shit," the boy muttered between breaths, as he willed his feet to carry him faster down ! the hall. "Can't we all just get along, mate," the youth called over his shoulder as he ran. This whole conflict thing... it just wasn't him. Time to exit stage right.
Grabbing hold of a recessed ledge, the boy slung himself around into a pocket along the wall where a Jeffries Tube access was located against the passageway, one in which he pitched himself as soon as he could wrest the hatch open. Not wasting time trying to close it behind him, the small, slender El Aurian quickly began scooting through the cramped crawlspace. At least here, he had a definite advantage in size. Now the only question was... where the hell was he going?

Ayden realized that his prey had alluded him as soon as the young person leaped into a tube of some sort. Thrusting his foot heavily into the bulkhead, he cursed his native language, which was long and with many syllables. Glancing towards his left as if ready to continue in whatever direction he was aiming for, he saw new prey however... another, taller person.

Without hesitation, in rage, he charged that person.

To Vortas, things being unusual aboard ship was normal. He was the son of smugglers, the normal routine being things going far from routine. What had happened to DS5 was enough to get most people on the ship uppity. When strange things started happening, mainly to the telepaths on board, that's when Vortas started getting concerned. Lethean telepathy already had a bad rap from most species as it stood. Him going off and sucking stuff out of people's heads.

Vortas had been on his way back to his quarters when he saw the young counsleor duck into a nearby crawlspace as if to hide from someone or something. When he looked up and saw the pilot chasing after him, he had no clue what was happening. Best find out...

"What's going on here?" , Vortas half said and half snarled.

This alien was far unsuspecting compared to the one who had alluded Ayden, and before he had a chance to react the hand of what was once a starfleet officer grabbed ahold of his flesh. The transfer was nearly instantanious, and from the alien's reaction, it seemed quite that way. Ayden released his grip, knowing that the prey would not leave. "Eternal Sleep is near... we must find the power."

Vortas fealt something rush into his mind, he didn't know what at the touch.He wanted to resist it , but it had grabbed a hold of him before he could form any sort of defense. His body collapsed to the deck, passed out. Another...thing had entered his mind. No, there were two of them. They overwhelmed him almost instantly. He fealt the things ripping into his mind, taking control of it, reading his thoughts, his memories, his essence. Normally this is what Letheans did to others, he had never had it done to him.

It didn't take long for the aliens to control him completely. Within in moments, the mind that was Vortas was over come. He saw himself sitting in a cage in his own mind while the two entities took control. He could see, but more like he was looking at a viewscreen. His body, which the beings controlled, came to and stood up. He heard his voice said to the one time pilot, who must have been controlled by the same things,

"We will do as we please. Leave us alone".

"Darkness and Light"

Commander Karyn Dallas, SO/Chief Counselor
Lt. JG Saul Bental, Chief Tactical Officer
Ensign Artim, Medical Officer
Ensign Rena Lanford, Medical Officer (NPC-Ian)

**

Main Sickbay
Deep Space 5

"I'm no Engineer," Saul told the young-looking Doctor, "But I'm not totally sure that this... stasis chamber... can withstand being recharged with full power, since it's slightly damaged. Look here," he gestured at three purple gauges in the top left corner of the chamber's operating console, "Even if we do bring him back, we need to do it slowly and carefully."

He swiveled toward Karyn. "Commander, I think we should ask the Galaxy to allocate a couple of Engineers and some extra security detail if we want to get sickbay up and running effectively."

"Agreed," replied Karyn. "We have additional priorities here." Nodding, Saul took a few steps away from the main group, and contacted the Galaxy.

While the others spoke, Artim studied the damage to the stasis pod. While he wasn't a fully trained engineer and wouldn't profess to be, Artim did get some good grades in the engineering classes he did take at the academy, which mostly focused on medical and computer system. Though he was planning on being a doctor, he figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to know how do some basic repairs so he didn't always have to wait for the yellow shirts. Working on a freighter like he had when he was "younger" also required him to know his way around a toolkit.

"Well, we could use some yellow shirted help, though I should point out looking at this thing that at best we might have another hour or two before the environment begins to decay, even if we can keep it powered. Once we get power to the monitors and life support equipment, then we should be able to bring him back with acceptable levels of risk."

"On the other hand.", Saul Bental's voice emerged from behind him, "It has survived long enough in a state similar to this, perhaps there's something we can't see right now that keeps him alive; Let's hope that your assessment is pessimistic, and that we'll be able to recover this fellow despite the time constraints." Rena had become lost in her thoughts as she gazed at the aged male within the pod. The readings on both her tricorder and the pod displays themselves were not synchronizing, as the low resonant power transfer conduits that echoed through the station to enhance wireless connectivity as well as expedite information between the two separate networks were supposed to have been designed to travel flawlessly; security check... countercheck. Packet transmission and assembly. Facilitation between the two networks was at par when the station was operating on standard or auxiliary power sources, but not now, not since... whatever had occurred.

A shadow flitted by her senses. She tracked it without moving her gaze, but nothing was there. Another danced at the opposite end of her dimming spectrum. Voices clamored in the background, she brushed them off as crew or salvage teams that had been sent to the station and happened to be nearby. The throbbing in her head increased, until it felt as if sehlats were stampeding over her.

She was suddenly inundated with a memory of childhood on Vulcan, where she had become lost on the fringes of the Forge. She was nine years old, and had wanted to see if the stories of T'Pau's ancient home were true. It had been hard to believe a Vulcan as revered as she had once been a pocket rebel. So Rena had ventured off into what she had thought of as her own journey of self-discovery. Instead, she had fallen into a crevasse that had been home to a family of sehlats. For three days she had cringed in a niche several meters above the animals...

Rena blinked and focused on her tricorder, even though the display and information scrolling across the medical until were no longer intelligible to her. The characters twisted into images of an unknown value. The image on the screen formulated into an image of herself, staring back with a dull look.

As she stared at the reflected image of herself in order to center her thoughts, the eyes flared scarlet red, and the mouth opened in a snarl of hatred and foam, tongue snaking out to split at the ends into a two prong lump of flesh.

Rena gripped the tricorder until her knuckles began to grow white. Karyn, chalking the woman's nervousness up to normal away team jitters, chose not to call attention to it. If Rena wasn't up to the task, she would let them know or Karyn would know soon enough. Observing his surroundings, Saul decided that it was time. The first shock of getting into sickbay and beginning to bring it online was behind them; He could safely present the secondary objective now, without worrying about slowing down the team's pace. He approached the team leader, Commander Dallas. Her biomechanical legs attracted his attention, like they did when he came across her on Trill. The fact that this woman could take part of an away mission and even lead it, despite her disability and without hindering the team, still impressed him. "Commander, do you have a moment?" Dallas turned away from her readings and the stasis chamber. "What's up, Saul?" "Commander.", He said in a quiet tone, "As you recall, when I helped you brief the others on the shuttle, I've mentioned a secondary objective." Karyn nodded. "What have you got?" Saul reached for the backpack that rested on a nearby biobed, and picked it for a few seconds before conjuring a black PADD. He offered it to the Commander.

Dallas' face did not betray her emotion, befitting her years of experience, and she could tell Saul was anxious to make the grand pronouncement. "It's time to get to work then," she finally said as matter-of-factly as she

could. Henderson had approved it and Karyn wasn't exactly adverse to the additional objective. "To sum it up.", Saul said sternly, just loud enough for everyone to hear, "We suspect that one of the accomplices in the Leran Manev terrorist attack is here, at Deep Space Five. Obviously, if he WAS here during the attack on the station, then he's probably dead by now... but we still need to make sure of that, and to find evidence. Many questions were left unanswered after the attack... and we owe it to the Trill people to provide answers." Rena never registered Saul's voice calling out. She was lost in a cloud of haze within her own mind. The image of herself in snakeform had faded away, asp-riddled hair the last to ebb from her vision.

Out of the haze, several murky forms appeared, all whispering, clamoring, closing in. She brushed at her arms, as if they were crawling with bugs; they were. Snakes hissed at her feet, grotesquely shaped with scaled feet glistening with moisture that wasn't there; it was her perspiration, she knew. They lived off it, they lived off her fear.

"I do not fear you." Karyn turned, immediately startled. "Rena, what is it? What's wrong?" Her tricorder was immediately trained on the agitated young woman, and she was inwardly berating herself for not checking on the medical officer's well-being sooner.

One snakehead darted out of the crowd to halt just inches from her face. It wavered, and slithered around her, engulfing her in its undulating mass.

"You should. You're going to die, your body reborn as us."

A tinge of fear reached her senses, and the being felt it. It wasn't the fear of dying-

"You fear what we will do in your form." Rena's eyes reacted unconsciously. "Oh, yes, even Vulcan's fear. Perhaps you fear the most." She felt pressure on her temples, the top of her head, her chin... the snakeform was crushing her.

"I... Do... Not... Fear death. You will not have my body."

"Rena Lanford," The woman-beast raised her head above Rena's to look down upon her, "We already have it." And the head came down to engulf the Vulcan woman, devouring her whole.

Rena snapped back to attention within the Sickbay, the dull gaze holding her features for a short moment, then rolled her shoulders back.

"Nothing is wrong."

Taking stock of her surroundings, being seen with a new vision; as a Dithparu, all they saw were psi-waves in a spectrum of light. Now, she saw things in an array of color. The bodies strewn about, shattered like porcelain dolls. It gave the being great pleasure that her brethren had wrecked havoc before she could escape. The dead-minds had closed off their prison before they could find suitable hosts to inhabit.

Reaching out with her inner voice, she called out to those about, seeking her companion who had escaped earlier. Amidst the song, hundreds shared in the ballad, but her companion's voice was silent, as was all those that she had known that escaped with him.

Around her, she saw the gangly forms of those this host had been accompanying. Reaching out, she first touched the smaller of the group, and found his mind dull. Eyes moving from the unit to another with mechanical apparatus about her mobility limbs, she also found that one lacking. Circling the group, she 'called' to each, to verify if there were any more of her Kind inhabiting them. Sadly, she was alone in this room, which presented a problem of enthralling each without suspicion.

As she contemplated her plans, the flickering light sources coming from above and the wall units came to a blinding flash of light, catching her off-guard. She threw her arms up physically to avoid the glare, momentarily feeling in danger. She would not go to the light... not now, not ever. Darkness was where power lay. Darkness was life, darkness was satiation. Darkness was home.

The cry-stasis unit, instantly recognizing the extra surge of power, awoke other displays on the pod. Life was prevalent in the being, and she felt power emanating from it, even as she slowly recovered from the hurtful light that did not damage this host.

The mechanical device her host had been holding began to pulsate and thrum with sound. Staring at the images that came across the screen, the being searched Rena's memories and found 'tricorder'. The device, once understanding its function, registered readings on living units in the vicinity.

Her job had become much easier.

“There are worse things.”

Second Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile,
Recon Specialist

And some NPC’s

USS Galaxy

"Get it done and over with... you can play all you want with these...animals when we are done here." The voice belonging to JAG Attaché Rowa Salas didn't have the normal kind tone to it which it normally held. Irritation, coming from a multitude of voices, filled it to the brim. Those voices belonged to Ksar, a Dithparu who brought a new meaning to the words ambition and impatience.

The occasional Dithparu would most likely add idiocy to that very list as well. Betazoids, Vulcans, halfbreeds. To name but a few. The ship they had found was a true treasure, their key to the promised land.

The target of Ksar's irritation was, at least for this minute, Leowen, one of his kind. Unlike Ksar, Leowen had no grand plan, no ambition to rule the Universe. No, his desires could be found on a much more primitive and simple level. Pain. Hurting and killing the weaker was like a drug to Leowen, one he gladly submitted himself to when ever it was possible. Eons of captivity had given him one hell of a withdrawal, one he wanted to get rid off right away.

He glanced at the petite figure holding Ksar and bared his teeth in what was supposed to be a cruel grin, but ended making him look feral and most unpleasant. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAH! STOP GIVING ME ORDERS!!" he roared while his left hand continued to crush the windpipe of ensign Jaquline Sabre. How ironic. She had heard the Galaxy was supposed to be one of the best places to serve and recieve the training she need. No had had told her the bit about getting killed by an insane crew. She should have taken the offer on serving on a science vessel. Scientists may be mad, but not too many of them had an abundance of military training. At least there they would have been evenly matched.

Leowen's host fit him like a glove, literally. His name, at least a few hours ago, had been Talloc Gratt, a not overly bright, but hardworking loadmaster assigned to flightoperations. A human and betazoid halfbreed the host's mental powers left a lot to desire, but the physical strength didn't. He was, in lack of a better description, built like a brick shithouse. Ensign Sabre was the last one left in a group of five they had surprised. Two had been thralled, but then Leowen's more... shady sides had taken over and he had felt an uncontrollable desire to shank the rest with the knife Talloc had carried with him. As the blade sank into the second body his new and amazing body had been trembling with pleasure. Not even Ksar liked Leowen.

"I will... when you grow a brain you brainless twit!" Ksar growled at him. Had it not been for the fact the two was standing next to two mutilated bodies and Leowen holding one horrified and almost panicking woman by the throat the sight might have been cute. Ksar's host measured 5 foot 2 inches, while Leowen's measured 6 foot 9 inches and weighed twice as much.

Leowen's, or rather Talloc's hand hit the wall with a resounding 'thud'. "Oh yeah.. I've been stuck in that rock for just as long as you and I'm entitled to some fun.. " he crouched down and licked the poor ensign in the face.

The small framed JAG attaché folded her arms over her body, as she watched Leowen lick the side of the woman's face. It was disgusting even to her. "One man's courage is another man's stupidity." She said. "Kill her.. she is a threat.. we have to do this me·ticulously." Ksar replied through Rowa's voice.

His head looked at Ksar like a cornered animal as his face twisted into a feral growl. "No! I found her! She's mine!" The cold steel left a thin red line on Sabre's cheek, but she hardly felt the pain through the numbing terror she felt inside. "She's MY TOY!!" He rose to his full length and let the knife twist and turn between his fingers.

Moving her hand out Ksar was not above manipulating anyone, even Leowen. "Follow my orders, and I'll give you all the toys and amusement you crave." She said then smiled with malicious. "Bring her..." She said, then began to walk down the corridor.

The huge man grinned with satisfaction, licking his lips with a mind full of plans what he would do to the tiny woman once given an opportunity. There was so much he wanted to do, to test that he couldn't decide on what, except that it had to involve pain. Lots of it.

Walking down the corridor with her 'pet' Ksar thought about her next move. She had to get control or the others would destroy all of her long planned plans. "If you stand with me Leowen.. I will give to you all the reward you want." She told him in a cold dead voice.

Tilting his head he looked at her. Ksar had always been good to Leowen, well, as far as good went for the Dithparu. He thought about it for a few seconds while his hand played over Sabre's body. "OW!" Suddenly his hand flared up in pain, an unpleasant amount of it. He looked down and saw the woman having sunk her teeth into the side of his hand.

It was probably a stupid thing to do. It was a stupid thing to do. But Ensign Sabre couldn't help feeling a little proud of herself, daring to bite him like that. There would probaby be hell to pay for it, but at least now she could die with some dignity. Naked, battered and probably raped, but at least she had done SOMETHING. Talloc, the only name she knew him by, hit her hard enough to make her teeth rattle. Yeah. Definitely a stupid thing to do.

"Foolish child.." She said, speaking of Ensign Sabre. "Bring her... " Ksar said as they entered a room which was littered with bodies. Mangled and bloody, some where missing limbs and others, heads. Looking around the carnage. "Someone has taken great delight in this massacre. Protect me, Leowen, I will give you eternity."

Not even Leowen was unaffected by the sight as they stepped into the room. According to Talloc's memory this had been a storagearea of some sorts. Now it was.. a slaughterhouse. The stench of entrails and blood hit his nostrils full force and it took quite some amount of willpower to keep the host from turning around and throw up. This was the work of.. of.. Leowen had no words for it, other than the strongest of admiration.

Ensign Sabre on the other hand felt nothing but the darkest and deepest horror. This was people she knew, or had known. Heads rested in unnatural positions, their necks broken. Legs pointed the wrong way, breaking through the skin. Then there was the blood. So... very.. fucking.. much.. of.. it... Sabre's stomach turned inside out and she threw up on Talloc's feet. She fell inwards in her mind, away from the terror, away from it all.

Looking around the only sound was the soft breathing of the three of them heard, the near silent whimper Sabre gave out as she saw her lover's disfigured form laying not far away. Stepping over a body, Ksar, looked around. "Who... could have done this?" She asked, praying it was one of their own.

Whisky. Whiskey. There was a difference. Something about an island and guys in kilts. Didn't really matter though. Both burned and that was the main thing. Dithparu. He tried the word again. Dithparu. Dith-bloody-paru. Guess he could add another species to the list that hated his guts and wanted to kill him. The thought produced a chuckle as he wiped the knife clean on a rag he had torn from one of the fallen.

Newcomers. Two of them.. and.. someone still running solo in the brain. They sounded different. Their pulse. Too.. calm. Not like the third one. It raced like it was trying to burst out from the body. Great. Now.. she.. interesting.. threw up. Starfleet were too skittish. No wonder he preferred hunting the Dithparu. Fuck that name. He'd call them Brainiacs from now on. Much better.

Turning quickly the petite JAG attaché looked at the knelt form of Baile. Stepping back she looked at him, something about him looked different from the mundanes. "Who are you, what is your name?" She asked, she knew most of her kind. "Speak now!" She said.

Busy trying to get the vomit off his shoes Leowen didn't see the fourth man in the room at first. His head jerked up and tried to find whoever it was Ksar had spoken to. That, he thought to himself, had to be the ugliest haircut he had ever seen. Was that the man who had caused the mayhem? An involuntary shudder went through the body that belonged to Talloc but controlled by Leowen the Dithparu.

Ensign Sabre on the other hand waited for another blow to play pinball with her head. When it didn't land she dared herself to look up where she saw the man kneeling down while wiping a knife on a rag. As he looked up she saw his eyes and one single thought brushed away everything else ~Oh shit...~.

He took his time, like he always did. Let them come if they wanted to. Carefully he wiped the blade clean until he saw no more blood on it and tossed the rag to the side. Rising to his feet he sheathed the knife again and looked at them with new eyes, eyes reflecting the faint light in the storageroom. "Does this mean you didn't bring takeout?" he asked. His voice bearing the telltale sound of whiskey and cigars.

"No.. but I bring opportunity." Ksar said, standing slightly behind Leowen as of now. She had to use him to protect herself, she would. Better the dumb to die then her. "All depends on if you want what's within your grasp."

~No, no, no, no, no... don't talk.. just run.. RUN!~ Sabre trembled violently. Compared to the man in front of them the two psychos felt safe. ~Look around, clues! Runrunrunrunrunrunrun!!!~

A disappointed look crossed Baile's face. "I was hoping for some Chinese.. "

"I was hoping for conversation with someone on my caliber, but then we don't always get what we want, do we?" Ksar replied.

Seeing the mayhem, or rather the carnage around him made Leowen a bit uneasy. He would never admit he was nervous, but IF this was the man that had caused all of this, then he knew how to defend himself. Some of these, if not all, had been hosts to his people. Hopefully Ksar saw that, but Ksar was more of an administrator, not warrior like he was.

A slight shrug of the shoulders. A mouthful of Whiskey. Baile frowned at the taste. He liked the burn a lot. "I'm sure you can find some other dipshit.. ah.. Diptha.. " He put the bottle down and made a irritated sweep with his arm. "Who the hell names themselves 'Ditparu'?"

"You do not even have the caliber to understand what it means, so how can I explain it?" Ksar asked. "You have one option.. join my insurrection, or face extinction."

Taking a step forward to reinforce ksar's words Leowen towered up in front of the human, folding his arms across his chest in an effort to make himself as imposing as possible.

Sighing heavily Baile looked at Ksar. Deep inside of the host, Rowa Salas tried to push herself even further away from Baile than she did from Ksar. This surprised the Dithparu some, but Ksar could find no recollection of why this man scared her in such a way. "Well? Join me or die?"

"Pleasepleaspleasepleasepleaseohgodohgodohgod" Sabre whispered to herself, trying to will away the bad.

The blow from Leowen rattled her teeth and made her see double, but Ksar noticed it brought no reaction from the male human she could discern.

Baile started walking towards a crate and sat down upon it. "How the hell did you people ever manage to figure out how to propagate? I just don't get it... 'join us or die'?" Baile shook his head. "I mean.. c'mon.. not even the Romulans uses that line and they're not exactly the smartest cookies in the jar, if you know what I mean.." he blinked at her as if they shared a secret.

Ksar grew tired of the man and nodded to Leowen. Maybe this was the man that had caused the slaughter, but Leowen was still a warrior, not to mention incredibly stupid and dangerous even without possessing a body like the one he did. The Dithparu smiled. It would please him greatly to break the man, make him scream.

As the man took a step forward Baile held up a hand. "Let's make it a little more... intimate.. "

Then the lights went out.

It had been easy to reprogram the audio interface to accept a command to kill the lights. Darkness settled in the cargobay, the kind of total darkness that's almost physical, that hits you like a club when it appears. It became painfully clear to the two Dithparu their hosts limitations when it came to darkness. It confused them, made their grip on the minds of their hosts a little weaker for a few seconds.

Baile watched the two Dithparu stagger around in the darkness. The darkness awoke his instincts. A cool hand touched his shoulder. he didn't have to look to see who it was. "Are you strong enough?" she asked him softly, but the voice held an anger it had not possessed earlier.

Without replying he pointed towards one of the bodies and shrugged, never taking his eyes off the stumbling Leowen. Silently he jumped down from the crate and walked past Leowen. They could feel he was there, they had all been able to, all that he had killed. But the darkness seemed to diminish their grip on their hosts. None of them had tried to enter his mind the way Ioa had. No one pulled off the same trick on him twice. Not him.

Slowly he pulled out the knife again, letting the blade scrape against the sheath. Leowen heard it, knew what it was. Violently he swung his own knife in all directions but never even close to hitting Baile. Silently, like the wind touching the grass on a warm summers day, the marine stepped in front of Leowen. The two almost matched each other in height, but not in strength. That illusion belonged to Leowen, not him.

"I win.... " he whispered loud enough for Leowen to hear it. The Dithparu had always been ruled by his own desires, always taken immense pleasure in hurting the weaker. The feeling of being the strongest couldn't be replaced by anything. He felt like a god, wandering from mind to mind as he pleased, or so he told himself. But that voice, not the words, showed him a future he wasn't sure he wanted. he second he heard it he understood, knew, that his host was lost and it wouldn't matter what host any of them took. If that man caught them they would die.

The blade didn't enter his heart like he had expected, not like he would have done it. It felt like a hard punch to the back when the knife entered his spine, cutting it in half. He felt the host's legs fold underneath him, felt his arms drop to his side. Tullac had long since retreated so far into the deepest corners of his mind that Leowen didn't even feel him.

Ksar heard a muffled moan and a heavy thump as a body dropped to the floor. "Leowen?" Ksar whispered, trying to see something in the darkness. It had been a trap. Every single lightsource had been erased. Even chance of survival. What ever that... man... was, he belonged there. In that utter blackness around him/her. "Leowen?"

Watching her stumble around in the darkness made him see just how weak the Dithparu could be. They wanted to believe themselves as powerful and omnipotent, but they weren't. In a way they were weaker than humans or betazoids or any other race in the Federation. They didn't possess the key to immortality. Someone had stuffed them in a cage and thrown away the key. DS5 had just been unlucky or weak enough to find it again. It was interesting seeing a Dithparu give into fear. He wondered what demons banged on the doors inside the alien, wondered what images it tried to shut out. Would he become one of those images, banging on the doors when the night settled, keeping it company during those long nights?

No, the Dithparu was just as clueless as everyone else, but they didn't even know it. Her heart was beating violently, scared, lost, reminded of the things that went bump in t h e i r darkness. "Leowen?" She called his name a third time, now sounding less secure than before.

"..is dead.." he breathed in her ear. She smelled of fear. Fear and denial.

How could someone that had sounded so cruel a few minutes ago sound so small now? Sabre drew her legs tight against her body, curling up in a ball. Had it not seen his eyes? She had, and she would never forget them. ~Pleasepleasepleaseplease... make it go away.. ~

Ksar flinched when hearing Baile's voice. "You're a fool.. " her voice refused to raise above a coarse whisper. "You can't win.. you're kind is too weak."

"Weak?" he replied, his voice coming from the other side now. A cruel smile came to Baile's lips when he saw the Dithparu flinch, trying to find him in the darkness, her head going from side to side, pupils completely open. Blind and yet seeing.

"You've never met anything like me.." his whisper drifted straight passed the host's mind and into the very soul of the Dithparu, although the Dithparu had a different name for it.

The Dithparu looked around. It felt the man, he was there, but it was impossible to tell eaxtly where. "Who.. no, what are you?" Ksar asked, cursing the host's voice. It trembled.

What was he? He looked at Maya, meeting her eyes. "You know what you are." the woman he had once killed said to him and started walking towards him, unbothered by the bodies littering the floor. Her swaying hips distracted him for a second as a desire started waking up inside of him.

Smiling wide he bared his teeth and bowed his head down. Had Ksar's host been able to penetrate the darkness the Dithparu would have seen the face of evil.

"I'm human fucking evolution gone evil..."

“The Snap”

Lt. JG Tarin Iniara, Operations Chief

The world is black; the air thick, noxious. No sights, no sound, only the thick, choking air that asphyxiates every part of this tiny little world. Somehow it seems appropriate, even stereotypical.

She floats weightless, suspended above ground that doesn’t really exist. She spins her body, trying to make heads or tails of the situation. Perhaps, as she twists about, she is facing that ground, her nose mere centimeters from its rocky surface. Perhaps she is facing the blacked out sky, although that doesn’t exist either. Nothing here really exists, at least not outside the confines of her own fractured mind.

An arm brushes past hers, the touch light, airy. She briefly considers whether the feeling was real (but what really is?) or if she only imagined it. And then, inexplicably, she is falling.

~This is how it ends,~ she thinks to herself. ~No loud bang, no fireworks; just a short, quiet snap. Nearly inaudible, unless of course you’re really listening for it.~

~This is how I finally lose my sanity. ~

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

Iniara bolted awake, gasping. The sights and sounds of chaos assaulted her almost immediately.

Sickbay was a complete wreck. Screaming, screeching, howling; the cacophony of noise seemed to complement the scene laid out before her. On every bed and in every corner there were people. All shapes, sizes, ages, departments…

That was the first thing she noticed. The second thing she noticed was the presence of something cold, smooth, and just tight enough to be noticed sitting around her neck. She reached up to touch the metal collar, fingers tracing its contours.

What the hell was going on?

Before she could answer that question for herself, someone was at her side.

“Don’t tamper with it.” The voice admonishing her belonged to a young Bolian woman wearing the black uniform of enlisted personnel.

She looked haggard, Iniara noticed as she gave the nurse a quick once over. Really haggard.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Something happened to you on the station. Apparently you passed out and had to be transported back to the ship.”

“I see,” Iniara replied calmly. Her memories of the second mission were vague; then again she had been feeling strange ever since the shuttle had departed for the station. She wasn’t surprised she couldn’t remember much.

“And what’s the story on this collar?” she continued, pointing to the device strapped around her neck.

“Many telepathic crew members have been experiencing similar symptoms as yours, due to an outside influence we can’t yet identify. One of the doctors developed these collars to regulate patients’ neural activity, and so far it seems to be working.”

“Right.” Iniara’s voice held no small touch of sarcasm as she glanced around the room, and at all the patients it held. Some were wearing identical devices, and it didn’t really seem to be helping. “So when can I get out of here?”

“We’d prefer you to remain here, for observation…”

“I feel fine.”

“…as other problems may crop up in the immediate future.”

“What sorts of other problems?”

“Right now, we don’t know.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah.”

Iniara sighed heavily. She could tell the nurse was holding something back, or at least she thought so. It was hard to think with the collar on. Her head felt like it weighed a hundred kilos, and without her telepathic senses she felt like a cat with its whiskers cut off.

“Look, can I just go back to my quarters and rest?”

“Well…I don’t know…”

“You guys look like you could use the extra bed.”

“I’ll have to clear it with Doctor…”

“Nurse. Please. I feel fine, all I want to do is go back to my quarters and rest. If you let me go, I won’t go anywhere else.” And truthfully, with the headache she had, Iniara doubted she would want to go anywhere else but straight to bed. “I promise.”

The nurse paused for a moment in thought, then grabbed a nearby tricorder. She gave Iniara a quick scan. “Okay. These readouts look normal enough. I’m going to go ahead and clear you, but I want you to go straight back to your quarters and rest there. Be sure to check in with us in four hours, regardless of how you feel.”

“Sounds good.”

“And don’t under any circumstances take the device off,” the nurse added, pointing to Iniara’s collar.

“Got it, Doc. I mean…Nurse. Thanks.”

Without waiting for a reply, Iniara hopped off the Sickbay bed and made her way quickly out the door. She did just as she had promised, heading straight to the nearest turbolift, taking it up several decks, and then making a beeline for her quarters.

For some reason the overhead lights were flickering. She almost registered this as strange, but other things seemed more pressing. Such as the weight on her head. Blood thudded in her ears with each step, and she staggered, almost falling once or twice. She managed to reach her destination without looking too ridiculous, though.

Nearly falling into her quarters Iniara made a beeline for her bed, pulling shoes and jacket off automatically, then discarding them on the floor once they were free of her body. ~Prophets, how my head hurts.~ She briefly considered changing into her sleep clothes, but decided against it. It wasn’t worth the effort.

Then, suddenly, like a light bulb exploding to life in her head, Iniara figured out the problem. The collar. It was too tight. Even the simple act of walking from Sickbay to her quarters had been too much stress, and now her head was throbbing as her body tried to pump enough blood to her brain.

She tugged at the collar with her fingers, trying to relieve the pressure on her neck and the large arteries within. Then, almost inaudibly, something snapped on the device and it loosened. Relieved, she pushed the thing off her shoulders, letting it clatter to the ground.

“Ahhhhh!” she exhaled loudly. The weight in her head seemed to lift almost instantaneously. Then it kept lifting. After a few seconds everything from the neck up felt weightless.

“Uh oh.” That was all she had time to get out before the dizziness washed over her. Predictably, Iniara’s eyes rolled back in her head and she swayed lazily to and fro for one long moment. Soon after, the artificial gravity did its duty, pulling her forward onto the soft bed.

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