"Playing With Fire"

Pilot Ember Lansky

Lieutenant (JG) Miramon Terrik,
Chief Navigation Officer

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

Ten-Forward, again. It seemed to be the place she most frequented apart from the Holodeck and the gym. The nexus of social interactions on the ship, it was probably a place of possibilities, a place where hearts were broken or mended, steppd on or ignited. Tonight though, Ember was here more to bury the uncomfortable, wretched memories of a pilot who was situated on the far side of the galaxy. It was abyssmal, but he had strayed to her mind again and she was determined to send him and everything related to him scuttling for the mental pits of hell.

Drink in hand, she leaned against the bar, purposefully casting her gaze around the room.

Spring Wine was to be his drink for the evening - a little alcoholic drink distilled on Bajor, requiring that he had a case imported every so often, since the replicators always failed to do it justice - much as they did with pretty much everything, as far as the Bajoran was concerned. And so, once he'd finished with his work for the day, he'd come up to Ten Forward for a late drink and a little time to unwind in the presence of his shipmates. Somehow, Miramon often found it comforting merely being with those that had chosen to pursue their careers aboard the Galaxy. Certainly they all had different reasons for being aboard, and with all their various diversities, sometimes you had to wonder how everyone got along so well (aside from the occasional isolated incident). Likely, it had to do not with the nature of the people or the ship, but the situations in which those two inevitably found themselves - as the old maxim went, no more powerful friendships are formed than those which are forged on the field of battle. It was, perhaps, a comforting thought.

He'd taken his glass over to sit by the front viewports of the large common lounge. Several Tri-Dimensional Chess sets had been set up nearby, but he wasn't interested in playing right now - he and Saul sometimes had a game over lunch, when their schedules provided an opening - but sometimes he just preferred to sit there and look out at the stars.

From where the ship was positioned, he'd never have been able to identify the star that belonged to the Bajor system, but then he really wasn't looking. Certainly that was what most people would call his 'home', and more importantly, it was there that the entrance to the Celestial Temple could be found, but Miramon wasn't particularly concerned with such things. He just wanted to sit there and mull over his thoughts.

Frankly, if anyone had moved to join him, he probably would never have noticed them until they said something.

"I get moments like these too," Ember said, suddenly appearing next to him, holding her glass and taking a small sip, the tip of her tongue sliding out to wet her lips. "When I gaze at the stars and wish so desperately to be out there, just a small shuttle and me, alone with the stars.." Her voice was soft and husky, perhaps deliberately so, and when she glanced over at him, holding his eyes, there was languid purpose within her dark irises, unmistakably. Her lips slowly lingered

at the rim of her glass.

Her appearance was rather sudden, he had to admit - just went to prove how un-mindful Miramon was being right now. He'd not even heard her approach, which was always disturbing, but sometimes it was good to be surprised - or scared out of your skin, as the cynical half of the Bajoran noted mentally. The conscious half, the one that wasn't laughing at him in particular was aware that he really ought to say something in reply, since it was impolite to remain silent when someone had taken pains to talk to you.

"Would that perhaps be why you are here, aboard a ship with over a thousand souls, to be with the stars, but not alone?" His deep blue eyes flickered away for a moment, back to the view outside of the window, but moved back just as quickly. The woman's first words were rather poetic, considering that he'd never seen nor talked to her before, and certainly an introduction wasn't likely to be as direct or as forthcoming as he was used to expecting - an interesting change, that was for sure.

She laughed. "Even in a ship of a thousand souls, you are still alone… It's foolish to think otherwise." As though she hadn't meant for that slightly jaded remark to slip out, she changed her tack, coyly adding, "Not to imply you are." She fell silent for a moment, and even if it might have seemed she had temporarily lost interest in the conversation, when she spoke again, it was obvious that she had only been thinking about his question. "There're many reasons why I'm here… but many more for why I shouldn't be." She smiled briefly. Maybe though, there was only one that mattered. "But I love the stars."

Ember looked at him. "And you? Why're you here?"

"Right now, I'm here because it's the best place to get a drink and relax without having to be alone, and certainly without being surrounded by reports that need to be read and what have you." He gave the woman an amused smile to indicate that he was joking, since that obviously hadn't been the response she'd been looking for with her question, given how she'd answered his a moment ago. "But, seriously, if I wasn't here, I'd likely be settling down on Bajor as my family continues to insist that I do, or I'd be working back with merchant freight again. I guess I'm here because I enjoy the lifestyle - never knowing where you'll end up next, and doing something useful at the same time."

He took a brief sip of the wine, putting the glass down on the table again with a slight 'clink' as the two glass surfaces touched. He rolled her comment around in his mind for a moment, thinking about it. He wasn't honestly sure he agreed with what she'd said - sure, it was always the case that, in the end, you really could only rely upon yourself, but he'd not been brought up to think that way. He'd lived on ships where trying to be aloof and independent of your crewmates ended up making for an unpleasant journey - for everyone involved.

"Now I'm no Vulcan, but it seems to me that if you've got more reasons for not being here than you have reasons for staying, wouldn't it make more sense not to be here? I can't say I understand your reasoning." He waited, watching her expression carefully.

"There's always a reason for not staying," She said with an enigmatic smile. It was a glib answer, one for which she didn't have to give too much of herself away. "It doesn't matter how many reasons there are pulling you away, as long as the reason that makes you stay – even if it's only one single reason - is stronger, and more important to you than all the rest." She drank deeply, watching him set down his glass. Seeming interested, she moved in closer, one more step that diminished the distance between them, and picked up his glass with her fingers around the stem. "Do you mind if I taste?" She asked, her lips close to the glass, but not quite touching.

Miramon raised his hand and gave a small, nonchalently-intended wave. "Go ahead. I can always get more if you decide you like it. It's native to Bajor, and it's the real stuff, not the one the computer thinks is real.

Ember nodded, taking a sip. It *was* good, different from anything she had tasted before, and in some ways, intriguing – perhaps, not unlike its owner. "I like it," She answered simply.

"Anyway, we haven't been introduced, while we're there. I'm Miramon," the Bajoran noted with a raised eyebrow. Maybe with her people, introductions didn't happen automatically at the beginning of a conversation. That said, it was likely to be a quick way to kill their line of discussion, such as it was.

"Ember," She spoke in return when he asked for introductions. "The dying remnants of a flame and the last-ditch attempt to stay alight, or…" She paused, half-in thought. "The small seeds of a fiery rebirth. You decide." The meaning of her name was as paradoxical and contradictory as she was; maybe it all depended on perspective, on the manner of mood she was in, at any moment in time.

"Can I have more of this Spring wine?" She asked suddenly, unabashedly, her eyes connecting with his, smoldering with hidden intent. "…in your quarters?"

He certainly hadn't expected her to say that. They'd known each other for, what, 5 minutes, and she wanted to go to his quarters? The question at least confirmed one of his firm personal convictions: he was never going to understand women. He narrowed his eyes briefly, suspecting that the woman might perhaps be playing around with him for her own amusement, but he didn't see the any signs of such intent in her eyes. That said, he couldn't really read her expression that well - somehow, even given their problems with the Dithparu lately, the Bajoran was beginning to envy the telepaths aboard ship. No doubt they had an easier time with this.

He relented in his stare after a fleeting moment, then gave a gentle nod. "Alright. It's not like I'm in any hurry to be anywhere else. Shall we go?"

"Let's," She inclined her head gently in a nod. "Lead the way."

"The Dance"

Corran Rex
Ella Grey

Corran had been happy to find that the tux still fit. Given how long it had been since the Trill had had any occasion to wear it, he wouldn't have been surprised at all if it had shrunk some - particularly around the midsection. That, of course, would be completely the fault of the fabric. He hadn't told Ella of what their plans would be for this evening, but had merely sent her the dress, and told her he'd pick her up at 20:00, sharp.

A single red rose in hand, he actually rang the doorbell to her quarters for once, and waited patiently. There was a right way to do these things, after all.

She opened the door and smiled, accepting the rose and then letting him in.

"What do you think?" Ella asked, spinning around for him to see. The dress was inspired by the early 20th century, a slim black halter dress with a long flared skirt, specifically chosen to go well with his tux and to blend perfectly with the group they would be around tonight.

She had been surprised when the dress had been delivered but even more surprised by her reaction at the idea of spending time with Rex. They had hung out countless times over the past few months but this night was different. It was like a date and while one part of her said (in that internal voice of hers that was her mother's) that this was a bad idea, the other part of her was almost giddy at getting to put on a dress and go out dancing.

"I think if anyone else sees you, you'll start reviving old fashion trends." Corran replied warmly, taking a good long look. All in the name of historical correctness, he assured himself. Really. Truth to tell, Ella looked good in the dress.

Damned good.

"And you're going to be equally trendy in that tux." Ella said. "I haven't seen one of these in a long time. Did you replicate it?"

"Had it laying around, actually." he admitted, holding out his arm to her. "An ex of mine used to have a thing for ballroom dancing, so it was handy to keep around."

"I thought that's what we might be doing tonight." Ella replied. She couldn't resist the urge to straighten Corran's tie a bit, of course pulling back when she felt like having her hand linger.

"I'm not a bad ballroom dancer but I did have to replicate these heels." She pulled up her dress slightly to show the shoes. "So your feet have been warned."

"I'll consider my toes put on notice." he replied.

"So why are we doing this?" Ella asked as she put the rose in a replicated vase of water. "Instead of.. what was it last time? Subterranean cliff diving?" That hadn't been too bad but some of Corran's other ideas had been a bit much, like skiing at Rura Pente or climbing Mt. Tar'Hana, a still active volcano. And she liked recklessly flying a shuttle as much as the next pilot but Corran took it to extremes.

"I figured you could use some "out" time with someone other than Indigo's hologram." he confessed. "So as to where, exactly... you'll just have to see." He'd noticed the slight linger of her hand, and found himself wishing that her hand had stayed there longer.

"I like a good surprise." She said with a wink, even though the mention of Indy brought about a slight twinge of guilt. "Do I get twenty questions?"

"You can ask..." he teased, as they started towards the holodeck, which wasn't all that far from Ella's quarters.

"Is the program set on Earth?"

"Yep."

"Is it some famous event in Earth's history?"

"Nope."

"If I pants you, will you give me more than a one word answer?" Ella asked cheerfully.

"No, but you'd better be prepared to do something about it if you do." he replied in an equally cheery tone - and with more than the requisite hint of innuendo in his voice and expression.

Ella laughed. "You should wiggle your eyebrows more when you say that. Looks more lecherous."

"Noted for future reference, Lieutenant." the Trill joked, adopting a mock-official tone.

"Good." Ella said in what would have been an airy tone, had her vocal range not been so limited by the mechanical nature of her vocabulator. "Make sure that you do."

As they came to the outside of the holodeck, Corran triggered the program, and together they stepped inside.

It was the nightclub from Indigo's program with a few modifications. For one it was brighter and less smokey, and the regulars of the dive were now more formal in tuxes similar to Rex's and stunning evening dresses - much like hers. He'd clearly put a lot of effort into tweaking the simulation. A full band sat at the stage where Indigo had sang at and they were in the middle of an upbeat jazz number.

It was perfect. And she wanted to dance.

Ella grinned and took Rex's hand. "Come on!"

Corran laughed as she pulled him along to the dance floor, and he had to admit that the music was infectious.

But then again, he wasn't sure if it was the music, or the company.

She wasn't sure of all the steps but it was easy enough to improvise. And Corran seemed to be able to match whatever impromptu little movement she had decided on, twirls, hops, a minor setback into the tango... By the end of the fifth song as the band managed to finally slip in a slow number, Ella was winded but was also the happiest she had been in a long time. It dawned on her that she had never gotten to dance like that before, certainly not with her ex fiancee or on the rare occasions that she had been asked to dance in years past, and that it was nice to find someone who seemed to enjoy it as much as she did.

Corran had been pleasantly surprised to find how energetic a dancer Ella was, and he had to admit, he was certainly enjoying it himself. For several songs, they whirled about on the dance floor, getting into the music and simply enjoying each other's presence, and the given and take interplay of the dancing, combined with their attempts to constantly one-up each other.

"Okay, let's take a break for a moment." he finally said after the sixth straight number. "Catch our breath, have a few drinks, how's that?"

"That's fine." She said. They walked over to the refreshment table, got their drinks, and sat down at the closest unoccupied table. Ella was amused by the pink table coverings which she thought her mother would have loved.

There was a slight moment where she was unsure if she should sit next to him or across from him but then Ella told herself to stop being silly and sat beside him.

He gave her a warm smile as she did, and allowed himself to take comfort in her proximity. It was such a simple thing, really, and he found himself constantly amazed by how often the simple things with Ella made him happy. The psychologist in him wondered if his many romantic liaisons weren't, as Ammalyn had suggested, compensation for the disastrous breakup of his previous long-term relationship, or, more likely, compensation for the fact that he expected this to have been his last life. That had changed, no, with what he now knew about himself and his past. It was possible that his attitudes towards letting others into his life had as well.

Enough of those thoughts, Corran chided himself (and was pleasantly surprised when Vorrin didn't interrupt his thoughts. Maybe the old man knew when to leave well enough alone, after all.). He raised a hand, and snapped his fingers. A moment later, a waiter appeared with two glasses, and bottle of champagne on ice. "Champagne?" Corran asked with a small smile.

It beat the mixers they currently had. Ella raised an eyebrow. "Going all out, I take it?"

"I hear some women like to be pampered." he replied. "but I'm willing to treat it as a nasty rumor if you disagree."

"You're such a flirt." Ella smiled after sipping some champagne. "And a scoundrel."

"You could use a scoundrel in your life." he replied roguishly, eyes twinkling in amusement after, as he sipped his own champagne.".

"Oh?"

"What, your mother didn't ever tell you to stay away from guys like me?"

"Of course she did." Ella smirked. "And I actually listened too. Mostly."

"Well now," he replied. "Where's the fun in that?"

"I happen to like nice men." Ella said in a mock arch tone.

"Hey," he said, adopting a wounded expression and pressing a hand to his chest. "I'm a nice man."

Ella laughed, wondering if he got the reference, and then playfully tugged on his jacket. "But you just said you were a scoundrel."

"I am." he replied, assuming a straight face, playing the role to the hilt.

"Ah, a walking contradiction. Well, if you're a nice man, you'll know that nice men ask ladies to dance after they've had champagne."

He flashed that same broad smile and stood from the stool, offering his arm once again. "Well then, would the lady like to dance?" Corran said, putting on a veneer of formality, and offering in a low bow. She accepted it with a smile of her own, and they moved back out on the dance floor.

The dance was slow, perhaps the band winding down from all the effort of their previous numbers. Ella didn't mind though. It gave her a chance to move even closer to Corran, which again her mind told her was a bad idea but which she again ignored.

Corran was acutely aware of the closeness of her body against his, but they got through the slow dance quietly, each lost in their own thoughts and their awareness of the other. Once again, Corran resented the ghost of Victor, ever-present in his dealings with Ella. Victor, who would never make a move himself. Victor, who didn't know what he could have with her if he just tried.

Victor was a fucking idiot.

"What's wrong?" Ella asked. His whole body had tensed suddenly. She pulled back to be able to look at his face better and blinked at the anger she saw there. And then again as that anger was replaced by something equally raw and powerful in emotion. They'd teased each other before, he'd flirted shamelessly before, but this was something completely different.

Two hundred and ten pounds of hungry-eyed, sexy Trill wrapped up in a black tux to be precise.

Something low in her gut jumped in response and she struggled to say something that would be discouraging, friendly, hell, even mean, but no words would come out of her mouth.

Instead, the next song began (and, of course, it was was much faster paced, and therefore seemed innately sensual) and they kept dancing. The dance they performed got more intense as it went on, both of them losing themselves in it, giving in to the energy of it with blind abandon, and dancing their hearts out.

Anyone watching would have been immensely impressed with the skill both displayed - and would have been quick to remark that the sexual tension that was present could have been cut with a dull butter knife.

Which, at the climax of the song, Ella decided to do. Because, really, it was either that or go home and sit under a cold shower for a few hours.

She leaned forward to kiss Corran, passionately, urgently. He responded without even thinking, pressing his lips and body to hers with equal need.

The rest of the room faded away and after a moment, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. "What about Victor?"

Yes, what about Victor, she asked herself. She still loved him but there was nothing she could do to get through to him for the moment. And she wanted Corran.

"What about him?" Ella replied in a whisper, and kissed Corran again.

After their second kiss broke, Corran couldn't agree more. He smiled broadly. "Then, m'dear, I think you promised me a ride?"

She just smiled wickedly, and spoke four little words. "Computer, remove all holographic characters."

And without another word, they sank to the dance floor of the simulated club, all cares and concerns, doubts and worries, forgotten.

OOC: Set a little after our lovely new XO joins us…

“A Bad Klingon Day…”

Commander Kol
First Officer, USS Galaxy

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton,
Chief Medical Officer, USS Galaxy

Chief Medical Officers Office, USS Galaxy

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Singing softly to herself as she worked again, Kimberly was sat happily at her desk making a serious and determined attack on the paperwork that spawned overnight on her desk. So far all but one small pile was actually dealt with, the rest had either been read, filed, turfed out to her staff or actually completed.

~ So far, a good day! ~ she decided, there were only a few cases in sickbay, none serious, the paper work was under control, she had a working shortlist for the position of ACMO, though the decision was on hold until she had actually met everyone, and she felt she had had a nice relaxing time in which to settle into her new job.

~ Why do I always say things like that? ~ she wondered after a moment, ~ It usually triggers something! ~ shrugging she returned to her PADD's and was soon singing again.

Commander Kol entered sickbay, striding purposefully toward his destination: the Chief Medical Officer's office located at the back of Galaxy' medical section. A nurse – or possibly a medical technician, these human uniforms all looked the same – attempted to assist him, but a low growl sent the girl scurrying on her way.

Looking up at the heavy and rhythmic footsteps that indicated someone (or something) big approaching her office she looked out the open door and froze, ~ Someone, somewhere, 'hates' me! ~ she decided as she saw 'Him'. ~ Did I miss a memo!? ~ looking at the unread pile of PADD's she flipped her screen on and called up a list of ship wide memo's, ~ Yup! Missed it! ~ she realised, ~ Goddess, 'He's' the new XO! Why me! ~ Standing as the huge Klingon walked in she refrained from smiling and looked up at his face, remembering just how 'big' he was the closer he got.

"Commander." She greeted him simply, not looking forward to this.

"Doctor Burton." he greeted her in his bass rumble. "I thought you were a... counsellor." he commented, making the word sound like the curse he viewed it as. "How is it you have gained this post?'

"If you recall my file Commander, I have been studying for some time now to achieve my medical licence, which I have, and been assigned here as the Chief Medical Officer,” she explained simply, not really wanting to go into details with him.

Kol just snorted, but he found the explanation sufficient. "Are you aware that there is a child treating patients in sickbay?"

"Well aware Commander, and are you aware that that 'child' is several hundred years your senior!" she informed him.

"If you say so, Doctor." he rumbled.

"Well, what can I do for you, Sir... I doubt you're here for a counselling session," she said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, tapping her screen she checked to see if a current medical file was available for the commander, "and as we have a current 502 on file for you, would this be a social call? Or for your requisite coming aboard check-up?" she asked, hoping that was the case, and that he hadn't come to resume their last argument about weapons and fighting!

"Neither." he replied. "This is supposed to be a temporary assignment, Doctor. There is no need for your... ministrations."

“Then how can I assist you Commander.”

"I am here because you still not recertified yourself in basic hand to hand combat or basic phaser testing, despite that I reprimanded you for this already on the Arizona." the XO said darkly.

~ Oh…!!! ~ words failing her she thought dark thoughts about Klingons with good memories.

"You should consider yourself lucky, Doctor, that this is not a Klingon ship."

“Oh, and why is that,” she asked, already half aware of the answer.

"Because," Kol answered matter of factly. "I would have already gutted you for your insubordinate nature, and your lack of a basic understanding of the universe proves you to be a liability to whatever ship you serve on."

“I beg your pardon, a ‘lack of a basic understanding of the universe’?” she asked with some disbelief, “just because I have a different view from you doesn’t make it any less valid,” she countered, “exactly what do you mean though?”

"Then allow me to speak clearly."

“You mean you haven’t been up to now?” she asked, trying not to let the sarcasm show in her voice.

Kol nodded, acknowledging the comment as a compliment, though it was very likely not intended as such. "As this is a Starfleet vessel, I must abide by their... regulation. You have one week to recertify yourself, Doctor."

Sighing in frustration she tried not to shake her head or snap at him, they’d had this out before on the Arizona and she’d lost there as well, “This may sound stupid, but out of curiosity, or what?”

"Or you will be removed from the active duty roster, and I will very strongly recommend against your being reinstated. Ever."

“That is somewhat excessive Commander, a recommendation like that should be because of more that you disagree with my personal beliefs,” she argued.

"This is not up for debate, Doctor." the Klingon replied harshly. "This is an order. Failure to comply, should you irritate me further, will result in your court-martial for disobeying the direct order of a superior officer. You will be held to the same standards as all Starfleet personnel, or you will no longer serve in Starfleet." he finished, and turned to depart. Then, remembering how many times Corran had emphasized the need to be polite, he turned to address the woman one final time. "Have a nice day."

“Somehow I doubt you mean that Commander,” Kimberly countered in a neutral tone, “please see one of my staff for your required check up before the end of the next duty cycle,” she countered, “and I will arrange for my… proficiency checks within the next day or two,” she assured him as she sat back down, “thank you for stopping by, good-day Commander,” she said, trying not to sound too dismissive, this was one ‘big’ Klingon after all.

Nieca Rey'ol
Assistant Chief Tactical Officer

"What dreams may come" part 1

****

Nieca's Quarters

****

It’s strange how dreams can turn memories into the reality they once were.

Nieca clutched at the dead leg that dragged by her side, despite its flaccid broken appearance for the past month it still managed to sting with pain and cause her waves of nausea. The thick bone of her femur only protruded through her skin when she pushed upon it, at first it was a raw and fluid wound, but was merely a crusty and pus filled injury now. Even a Pakled could figure things out; it was only a matter of time before this broken bone will kill her, a fever mixed with infection.

But death from a simple injury seemed like a blessing in this prisoner’s camp. The Cardassian guards were cruel and unpredictable, few showed mercy in the four weeks Rey’ol had been help captive. Much of her day was spent in avoidance, not just from the Cardassians but from other prisoners. These camps operated on an eye for an eye and they only defense Nieca now held was a fierce outer appearance.

Her head began to pound and gagging spasms twisted at her insides once more. Looking for a place to hide Rey’ol found a small cave against the dirty floors of the rock walls of the encampment. Crawling on her hands and one good knee she managed to stay conscious long enough to hide.

She awoke to shouting hours later.

Night raids were common in the prisoner’s camp, usually brought on by too much ale; the Cardassian guards gathered their infamous shock sticks and harassed sleeping captives. The shouting Nieca herd came from around the corner; with any luck she could avoid detection. Forcing her broken leg to bend and fold she curled into a small silent ball against the back of the tiny cave and waited in horror.

A pair of boots stopped in front of the cave, Nieca held her breath and watched in relief as the pair of boots, followed by two, more quickly moved past her. Sighing she relaxed and bit and let the tip of her tail slide out from under the rocks.

“Well hello, look who we have here.” The lone guard bringing up the rear of the group smiled at Rey’ol as he bent down to look her in the eye.

Nieca Rey'ol
Assitant Chief Tactical Officer

"What dreams may come" part 2

****

The Cardassian guard took a fist full of Nieca’s dirty blonde hair in his hand and with one strong tug pulled the Caitian out from her hiding place. She merely whimpered in pain, like a beat dog she merely laid at his feet and waited for the punishment to be over.

“Trying to hide from us?” The shock stick in his hands began to hum as it charged “That was stupid of you.” He placed the stick along her side, the smell of burnt flesh filler her nostrils as the guard laughed.

“The Dominion war will be over soon and I personally look forward to conquering more of your kind.” His expression was smug as he placed the stick closer to her broken leg “Perhaps I will skin your father, such a lovely pelt for my floors.”

Nieca’s brown eyes snapped open from his words and her lifeless tail suddenly snapped back and forth in an angry manner.

The Cardassian placed the shock stick into the wounds generated from her broken leg, which cause Nieca to howl in pain. The guard laughed.

“Even a pretty coat from your children’s skin… you filthy animal.”

His words sparked a fire inside of her and Nieca’s good leg began to search for grounding. The guard paused from his torture as his victim grew silent and focused.

“What’s this… thinking of fighting back?” He lifted the stick from her leg and began to laugh once more.

As his head tilted back in laughter Nieca clawed at the earth beneath her. With a new found strength she lunged at the lone guard and knocked him to the ground.

"What dreams may come" part 3

****

She wrapped a hand across his forehead and slammed the Cardassian’s head into the hard ground. Pinned from the large Caitian’s weight, the guard began to squirm and panic under her. A growl escaped her lips as her free hand shook the shock stick from his. A true sense of vulnerability raced through the guard under her as he began to scream for help.

Her dark eyes narrowed as she glanced down at him and once more a deep rush of anger pumped through her body. The months of abuse and pain came to head in this moment and the Caitian flourished in the power she now felt.

She moved in close to him and pressed her lips against his. The dumbfounded guard grew silent for a second before he began to kick and thrash below Nieca. His screams became gargled and wet as Rey’ol lifted her head. True terror could be herd in his wailing as the realization of injury rush over him. Nieca pushed away from the guard and spit out the lump of flesh she had torn from the Cardassian. The sticky metallic taste of blood made her stomach grumble and her instincts roar.

The group of guards returned to the sight of Nieca’s attack and for a moment stood back in horror. Their co-worker had choked and drowned in his own blood, his limp body rested below the feral Caitian, who now wiped her mouth clean of her victim’s blood.

“She ripped out his tongue…” The youngest guard gasped.

“Foul beast.” The older guard sneered as he raised his stick over his head. “We can’t have dangerous animals milling about our encampment, see that she’s collared and chained to the house.”

The younger guard nodded and Nieca watched the older guard’s shadow lower behind her before everything went black.

It’s strange how dreams can turn memories into the reality they once were.

Nieca sputtered and gasped as she sat up in bed, her body covered in a heavy cold sweat, she touched the leg that was once broken only to find it healed and scar free from Starfleet’s medical care.

Three short sobs escaped her body as she reached out in the darkness of her quarters for the bottle of pills resting on her night stand. Sliding two of the small white pills into her mouth she took a sip of hard liquor from the tumbler she had left from earlier. The medicine worked quickly and the once tortured Caitian now found comfort.

It’s strange how dream can turn memories into the reality they once were.

But tonight there would be no more dream for Nieca as the drugs pushed her back into a restless sleep.

OOC: Backposted.

"Boarding"

Lt(jg) Cora Dobyrin, Chief Intelligence Officer

2nd Lt S'srissa, Counter-Terrorism Unit Liason to Intelligence

Arriving on the transporter padd intact, the green-skinned Orion woman looked towards the transporter operator, who was now gaping. It took a brief moment to note he was an enlisted low-ranked man of Crewman rank. While she normally might just ignore it, she knew that if she did, the rumor mill would go nuts.

So, she quickly snapped, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Crewman."

He gulped, closing his mouth, "Sorry. I have your quarters assignment, duty roster and boarding data pack here."

Stepping down, she quickly made the short distance before taking the computer padd from him.

She nodded to him before turning, leaving the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Making her way through the corridors of her latest duty station towards her quarters, the green-skinned Orion woman ignored the looks that she got from men that she passed.

Arriving, she used her previously-sent access code and the door opened. Entering the room, she stopped and looked around.

Dropping to a crouch instinctively after the door shut, she waited for a few moments to make sure no one was going to jump out before pulling her modified tricorder out.

Adjusting it, she began doing an intensive sweep for hidden bugs and recording devices, her trained paranoia coming to the fore. She did not find anything, including when she opened up the replicator housing to check for signs of wilful contamination.

Going back to her duffel bag, she picked it up and headed to the bedroom. She unpacked her gear, putting it away neatly in the cupboards - lined up dead straight in logical groupings.

She then headed to the computer terminal and began setting up her standard data-file security precautions. Once she had finished, she uploaded the CTU information she had brought with her.

Logging off after the encryption protocols had finished working, S'srissa smiled.

Bringing up the ship's map, she quickly located various locations and memorized them - the bridges, Main Security, the Infirmary, the Intelligence office. She knew that it was standard to check in with her commanding officer, who was a Lt. JG Cora Dobryin.

Cora had been expecting another new arrival to Galaxy's Intelligence deptarment. Glancing up as S'srissa entered. "Welcome aboard. I assume you have your orders with you Lieutenant"

S'srissa saluted and handed over a padd to Cora, standing at attention, "Yes, Lieutenant. My transfer orders from CTU are in this padd."

After accepting the PADD she returned to her seat, "Have a seat Lieutentant. Would you like something to drink?" Briefly Cora skimmed the data. "Everything appears to be in order."

S'srissa shook her head, "No, thank you - I am fine."

"You've joined us at a very interesting time," Cora commented. "Once we're finished here take some time to get settled in and review the latest dispatches from Intel. I'll expect to see you at the usual Intel brief at the start of Alpha shift tomorrow."

S'srissa smiled, "Certainly. I recieved a copy during my trip here, and have reviewed it. I will be there."

"Excellent," Cora replied, "Welcome to Galaxy's Intelligence Dept. I'll leave you to finish getting settled and review the data before our briefing."

"Practice Makes Perfect"

Major Corran Rex, CAG/Vanguard One
Lieutenant Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer
Lieutenant JG Miramon Terrik, Chief Navigation Officer
Lieutenant JG Saul Bental, Chief Tactical Officer
Ensign Nieca Rey'ol, ACTO SCPO.
Renora Loret, Tactical Analyst
Lieutenant JG Naranda Roswell, Engineering Officer

Observing: Commander Kol, First Officer

OOC: Takes place prior to "Terminal Velocity"

-----------

Holodeck 1, Deck 10

Miramon and Saul were the first two to arrive at the Holodeck, since they were the ones responsible for having set up the simulations in the first place and wanted to make sure everything was working properly before they got started. At least they had one comfort – if it didn't, they had some engineers nearby to help out. Although, as was occasionally observed by some of more cynical members of the crew, whether that was a help or a hindrance depended on the engineer, but Miramon didn't dare say that around Saul, since he was dating one of them himself.

They did not, of course, know that the new First Officer had arranged to be an observer in this simulation. He had not, however, yet arrived.

Stopping at the double-doors, Miramon moved over to the control panel and began typing in a series of quick commands to check that everything was working, then looked over at Saul with a gentle smile curving his normally relaxed features.

"Computer, create program. Give us...the Bridge."

The computer beeped as it processed the command, then gave another one, this time less co-operative than the first. "Please specify bridge type."

"Well I sure as hell didn't want the Golden Gate Bridge," he muttered under his breath. "Bridge as currently found aboard starship USS Galaxy NCC 70637."

He rolled his eyes gently and shook his head as the computer complied. He gave Saul a slightly exasperated look. "Ever wonder which idiot designed the computer system to be so...pedantic? I mean, when I say the bridge, you can imagine that me, being a Starfleet officer serving aboard a ship would, colloquially, only refer to one part of this ship as the Bridge. So, if it was going to predict what I wanted, could it not perhaps think logically about who is asking, where they are asking and what they are asking for?"

"The frightening thing is, some people on board would actually think you're talking about the Golden Gate if asked them to draw a bridge," the Tactical Chief commented.

"I think I'd be worried if the computers on this ship actually started 'thinking'" Nieca interjected as she entered the holodeck. "I would hate for it to change my replicator's meals to what it considered to be healthy." The Caitian smirked a little from her own joke.

"That's why you should always bring food from home.", Saul told her, then went to the side and began a private conversation with the computer, preparing the final parameters of the simulation. He took the scenario from one of the main Wolf 359 challenge scenario back on 2379. It was just challenging enough for a first exercise, and should give them a way to measure the crew's current battle readiness.

Miramon grinned at the banter being exchanged between those of them that had arrived, giving a gentle nod to the Caitian as she came over. At least someone was on time so far. That was at least promising. Not that he could blame anyone else if they decided that the exercises were unnecessary compared to, say, an extra few hours in bed. Given the choice, he might have made that same assessment himself, but he wasn't going to say a word to Saul. After all, they'd planned the simulations together, so they could hardly demonstrate less than full enthusiasm for the proceedings.

Nara made her way to the bridge with about a minute to spare. Saia seemed to be stalling with every imaginable excuse when it came to babysitters. She tried to stick to one besides Miramon and the Widdlesteins. That being the perky lady that watched Saia while Nara was on the away mission. And while she was being mischievous in the Jeffries Tubes. Also while she and Saul almost killed each other.

She looked around with a look on her face, "Well, this may be the only bridge time I get." Nara had yet to be on the bridge. It was a reserved privilege for superior officers.

As Galaxy's Chief Intelligence Officer, Cora was more than a bit interested to see exactly what they had come up with. She arrived at the holodeck and greeted the other two already present. "I'm looking forward this." There was a lot more to consider than just her own response to a simulation such as this one.

Saul, of course, noticed her presence. It was no secret that he and his previous direct superiors weren't in good terms. Saul had no doubt that part of the reason why he was transferred to Tactical was to prevent any further friction between him and Cora.

Well, Cora's presence only meant that he couldn't allow anything to go wrong in this simulation.

Renora stepped through the doors and looked around the holographic replication of the bridge. It was the first time she'd seen the this ships, pretty standard but she could tell there had been some small modifications. She caught sight of the woman to her right, the black undershirt gave her away as intelligence. She glanced over towards Saul who was putting the final touches to the program. ~Okay then, let's see what you can do.~ She thought to herself.

Major Corran Rex arrived shortly thereafter, with Lieutenant Teyri and Pilot Lansky following close behind him. The three fighter pilots were all decked out in their flight gear, as the holodeck had created a room behind the bridge with fighter simulators for the three of them. They would physically be in the holodeck, but the physical illusion would be complete. "Lieutenants, Ensign, Petty Officer." the Trill said, nodding his head at each of them in turn. "Looking forward to seeing what you've come up with, Mr. Bental."

"As am I." came the deep bass voice of Commander Kol. "I was..intrigued to learn of this simulation you have planned, Lieutenant."

Saul was mildly surprised. He just opened his mouth to reply to Corran when he picked Kol. Saul have seen the Commander, but he didn't speak with him since Kol boarded the Galaxy, not too long ago. "Keep in mind that this is only the first in a series of simulations, with increasing difficulty, sir.", Saul said firmly. "That aside, I hope you two will find the Tactical challenge satisfactory."

"You should hope that I do." the Klingon rumbled in a tone that could not be mistaken in it's slight menace. "If it is unsatisfactory, then I will be programming the next one."

Saul frowned, but decided not to respond. It didn't take long for him to judge what type of officer, or person, this 'Commander' Kol was. He was the kind of managerial brute that arguing with would be pointless.

Moreover, this was not the kind of attention that the Chief Tactical Officer wished to receive on his first combat simulation.

"I was unaware that you had the intention of appearing at our humble simulation." Nieca purred as Saul fussed with his program. "I'm sure my commanding officer would be more then happy to give you an active role... "

Kol snorted. "Do not concern yourself. I merely intend to observe."

Rey'ol merely nodded her head in acknowledgment of his wishes, while the faint irritated clicking of well groomed nails rose from the corner of her console.

"All right, everyone.", Saul called out when all the essential personnel were gathered and the arch officially locked, "Today's exercise is the first of several combat exercises that will take place throughout the coming year. There are two major goals for the exercise. The first is to evaluate and to increase our combat readiness, toward a possible conflict with the Triad forces. The second... there's a possibility that the Galaxy's crew will enroll to a major Starfleet exercise called 'The Wolf 359 challenge'."

Saul made a dramatic pause, his eyes focusing on each officer in the room.

"If we're entering into this challenge, we want to be at our best, especially with regards to co-ordination and innovation, since all the crews we'd be working with or against have had the same training we've all received at the Academy, so we need to show them who it is they have to beat." Miramon noted with a smile. It didn't hurt at this stage to motivate everyone's competitive instincts - if anything, it'd hopefully sharpen them up so they'd perform at their best.

Nara nodded. Being ready for battle was something she could understand.

Corran gave a brisk nod. "I've heard of the contest, but I've never entered. Sounds like fun."

Commander Kol didn't comment, though he made the effort to hide his derisive snort. These Starfleet officers and their childish games. Nothing was a substitute for the true glory of combat. Simulated battle - simulated honor - was utterly without worth or purpose.

"This is not yet official, but if we want to have a fighting chance against the best crews the fleet has to offer, we can't waste any time. Now, for the scenario."

Saul swiveled around, tapping on a console. The simulated Galaxy's screen came to life.

"This scenario is pretty straight forward, and was built by Starfleet Tactical following our own run-in with the Dreshayans during our trip to Trill.", Saul continued. "There are three Dreshayan vessels on fast approach vector. These vessels are considered to be state of the art by the Dreshayans , and are more maneuverable than the Galaxy. However, the Galaxy is far more powerful in terms of weapons arsenal, shielding and overall technology. The Dreshayans ' intentions are currently unknown, and their ETA is three minutes on interception course. Note that we are in the vicinity of a Star system - near the Dreshaya border - and that there's a research station nearby."

Kol spoke up once, and the Tactical officer could clearly make out the frown decorating the Klingon's features. "It does not seem a worthy test for a vessel of this caliber."

"Irrelevant to this simulation, sir. It is the crew being tested, rather than the ship. For now we just want everyone to get comfortable and find their feet. It would be disorientating in the least to throw everyone against a Borg Cube in our first run. After all, we're not just testing department co-ordination, but preparing to implement possible changes. If we're too busy 'fighting for our lives' first time out, we'll have no chance to make any corrections. And if we end up doing a much more challenging scenario, I'd rather those were made beforehand. So, I'd imagine, would you."

Miramon's steady expression didn't waver as he watched the Klingon commander. Regardless of the additional pressure being put on them by having a Klingon participating in the simulation, not to mention that the aforementioned also happened to be the current XO aboard the Galaxy, the Bajoran wasn't about to have their setup criticized before they'd had a chance to see how things went. Kol could say what he wanted once the simulation was over, but they'd come here with a purpose, and he fully intended to see that they went ahead with fulfilling that.

"Also, don't underestimate the Dreshayans. They ARE an existing threat, and their ships DO have their advantages, such as speed. I expect everyone to focus on OUR advantages over the enemy vessels. If we do, this will be easy. If we don't… it won't."

"Very well," the Commander conceded. "Your words are not without point. Proceed."

A minor victory, Saul reckoned. He paced toward the Tactical post, where Nieca was standing. "Positions. The Captain and XO are simulated. This is a pure test for the actual crews, and will include minimal decision-making on our behalf."

A holographic figured emerged out of nothingness, and occupied the Captain's seat. It was someone everyone knew, even if not in person.

It was none other than Robert E. Lee "The General" Price.

"Practice Makes Perfect" pt II

Major Corran Rex, CAG/Vanguard One
Lieutenant Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer
Lieutenant JG Miramon Terrik, Chief Navigation Officer
Lieutenant JG Saul Bental, Chief Tactical Officer
Ensign Nieca Rey'ol, ACTO SCPO.
Renora Loret, Tactical Analyst
Lieutenant JG Naranda Roswell, Engineering Officer

Observing: Commander Kol, First Officer

OOC: Takes place prior to "Terminal Velocity"

-----------

Holodeck 1, Deck 10

It was none other than Robert E. Lee "The General" price.

The most famous commander of the 'old lady' was wearing Captain pips. He sat down, leaning forward slightly with anticipation. He was young, in his prime. Older or former members of the Galaxy's crew like Commander Karyn Dallas, now-Captains Elaithin Jii, Kent Peterson, and James Mitchell or Commander James Corgan wouldn't have been able to help but feel nostalgic at the sight of Lee Price, legs unimpaired, sitting it what a lot of people still thought of as "his" chair.

However, none of the people in this room today had ever served under that Starfleet legend.

"Lieutenant Terrik will be at the helm. Ensign Rey'ol will take the Tactical post. I will be standing next to her, as simulation operator.". Saul quickly described each person's position, including the engineers on the other holodeck.

Nara took her spot at the Engineering console. It felt odd. Almost like cheating. She didn't care. She got to be on the bridge. Even if it was simulated.

"Let's do it.", He concluded. The viewing screen unfroze, and the simulation came to life.

Miramon gave Saul a gentle grin, then quickly took his station, feeling the familiar crispness of the leather on his chair as he swiveled it to face him, and quickly sat down, turning to face the console which sat just above waist height so he could hit the various controls with optimal efficiency, and without feeling uncomfortable in doing so. The viewscreen in front of him was active, showing Dreshayan ships magnified so that their ships could be clearly defined and observed, even at this distance. Last time he'd seen one of those things, they'd been shooting at him in a shuttlecraft beyond the Galaxy itself, so most of the work had been with regards to evasive maneuvers - and that was likely what would happen on this occasion, too. But, as always, he was just waiting to be surprised and see what they could come up with.

Corran looked to Teyri and Lansky, and indicated the door that would nominally lead to the ready room. "We'll get to our "ships", then."

The Klingon first officer took up a position at the rear of the bridge, folding his arms and preparing for the entertainment that was sure to come.

As Saul moved to stand next to Nieca his heavily booted foot grazed the end of her tail. The tail jumped and leapt away from the weighted danger as if it had a mind of its own. Rey'ol meant to give him a sideways glance for the almost painful gesture but Bental's focus was on the sim.

Inhaling deeply Rey'ol closed her dark eyes. She reopen them slowly, their glassy gaze now locked on the tactical panel in front of her it was going to take a bit of cunning work to dazzle this crowd.

From that very second, events deteriorated quickly.

The Dreshayan arrows rushed toward the Galaxy, much like they did when the Galaxy was en-route to Trill, all those months ago.

A quick exchange of words between Captain Price and the Dreshayan leader has led everyone to the understanding that conflict was unavoidable. This may have been taken for granted, but Saul always believed that the first and best move in a fight is the attempt to avoid it without losing ground.

"Retreat from Dreshayan territory and abandon your invading station, or we shall have not a choice.", The uppity Dreshayan Captain concluded. A moment later, his ship broke off the formation, and began a broad turn toward the research station. One of the two other Dreshayan vessels shot a warning shot across the Galaxy's port side.

"You are in violation of Federation space, mate." "Price" replied firmly. "We'll not be standing down - but you should."

The response was static.

"Captain, their shields are now at full capacity, and they activated sensor jamming. It's safe to say that they are arming their weapons."

"This is it.", Price called, his Aussie accent thickening slightly. "Vanguards, launch and intercept vessel Beta. Mr. Re'yol… fire at will."

Renora winced slightly as she heard the order. 'Fire at will' always sounded to her ears like 'just hit the damn thing'. "Take your time." She said slowly to herself. She watched the reactions of the crew to the situation. Looking at their eyes, posture and listening to their voices. She wasn't a psychologist as such but she did know how to read people during combat.

Nieca's eyes narrowed from Price's words and her agile fingers began to dance across the tactical boards. Seconds later two torpedoes soared towards the Dreshayan ship.

The torpedoes flickered and rumbled against the ship's shields.

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

Vanguard One - Holosimulation

Corran watched as the simulated status markers came up for all of Vanguard squadrons. The pilots profiles - except for himself, Teyri and Lansky - had all been programmed in. "Leader to Vanguards, Galaxy actual has cleared us for launch. Three Dreshayan ships inbound. the big bird's taking target A, we're going for B. Confirm flight readiness when launched."

Both of the other pilots acknowledged the order, and the fighters were on the move.

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

Galaxy Bridge - Holosimulation

"Shields compromised 11% from the torpedoes Captain." The almost slavic yet distinctly Caitian accent rolled in the back of Nieca's throat "And they are preparing to return fire."

Nara just watched it all, waiting on a command. Tactical was to shoot, Ops were allocating resources. Everyone had a job to do during the battle. Nara was just waiting for something to fix, or alter.

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

Vanguard One - Holosimulation

When they'd faced the real Dreshayans, Corran and the Vanguards had participated in a very similar engagement. For the hell of it, Corran decided to use the same tactic as then. "Dreshayan vessel, this is Starfleet Starfighter craft Vanguard One. You are in violation of Federation territory and threatening a Federation starship. Stand down or be fired upon."

The Dreshayan's response was a nice blast of weapons fire that only years of piloting instinct enabled Corran to roll his ship and avoid. "Nice." he muttered to himself. "Allright, let's play it hard. Vanguards, break by flights. One Flight will target the cruiser's ventral plane. Two Flight, you take dorsal, Three Flight, take his rear. We shoot to disable for now."

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

Galaxy Bridge - Holosimulation

"Vanguard One, make sure your target does not reach its own target, the installation.", Price commanded. Their first priority, obviously, was to keep the defenseless civilians from harm's way. The second priority was the one that drew the 'Captain's' attention next.

["As ordered, Galaxy."] came the Major's quick reply over the comm.

"Defensive maneuvers.", the 'Captain' instructed, his voice as sharp and as cold as the edge of a Tritanium blade. "Keep 'em guessing, mate."

Miramon made a soft sound of derision from his chair at the front of the Bridge. Whenever there were Dreshayans involved, he always ended up putting the ship he was flying into defensive maneuvers. Last time it was in a smaller shuttle, but now he was supposed to perform the same little tactics with a Galaxy-class. That was gonna work.

Saul left the simulation running on its own, and now focused on the Tactical display. "Both Dershayan arrows are faster than us, but their flank shields and armament is weak. I propose the Yelenetik maneuver."

"Easy," Miramon muttered. Trust Saul to pick a move that he hadn't done since he'd practised it at the Academy. The movement involved a sudden burst of speed using the impulse engines, propelling the ship forward to outrun their opponents, who would obviously think the ship was moving to escape and would increase speed to try and keep up. Then, as soon as they were close enough to pass the ship, they'd cut power to the thrusters so the enemy would overshoot, and tactical could let loose with their forward phasers. It was much easier in a smaller craft, that was for sure.

The Dreshayan dart came up in a quick maneuver, passing up to the larger Galaxy's saucer. It's companion tried to do it's same, but had to alter it's course to avoid hitting the Vanguards, who'd placed themselves directly in the way. Dart A began to spin as it passed over the Federation ship's saucer, loosing a barrage of fire against her dorsal shields.

"Return fire.", Price ordered calmly. Saul gestured to Nieca to move sideways. With the simulation running on automatic, it was the Chief Tactical Officer's turn to give the gun a try.

"Darts have weak flank shields.", Saul indicated loudly as he directed the Galaxy's fire. The beams impacted the Dreshayan ship's, though it's position kept it clear of retaliatory fire from the ship's phaser cannon or torpedo tubes, limiting the Galaxy crew's options to standard phaser fire.

"Miramon.", Saul exclaimed, "Keep him ahead of us. There's a torpedo with this bastard's name on it!"

"I'm working on it!" the Bajoran snapped, focused more on his piloting than on what the rest of the bridge crew were doing. His console showed him where the Dreshayans were, so he was doing everything he could to ensure that he did exactly what Saul wanted. "Going to full reverse."

The second dart had slipped clear of the Vanguards, who were quickly coming around to overtake the larger ship. It did though, get the chance to coordinate fire at Galaxy herself, and the two ships in conjunction managed to pierce the Federation vessel's shields.

Nara kept her eyes on the console, once and awhile looking out the viewscreen. Once, somewhere as her eyes were switching between the two, she instinctively gripped the console with a death-grip. Instinctively as the ship suddenly rocked. Also instinctively, she kept her eyes on the console, which was hard to read with all the movement, but she did make something out. There was bad news that she had to announce. She almost forgot it was a simulation as anyone could tell with the alarm in her voice, "Damage on Decks 8 and 9. Life Support on both decks down thirty percent!"

"Evacuate the crew from the decks, and proceed to seal the damaged areas.", Captain Price commanded. "Roswell, coordinate damage control teams."

She sent the messages, and she called engineers to the damaged areas.

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

Vanguards

"Son of a bitch." Corran muttered. The Dreshayan ship's shields were holding too well against the Vanguard's own fire, and the ship had managed to slip free of their makeshift corral. "Allright, new strategy, Vanguards. Concentrate all fire on the Dart's engine's let's take her out.

The requisite acknowledgements came again, and the dozen fighters shifted to a mass formation, all aligned with the rear of their opponent.

The dozen fighter craft concentrated their pulse phasers and micro-torpedoes all on the aft-section of the dart's shields, and moments later, they flashed satisfyingly as they fell. Her engines went up shortly after that, raked by a dozen streams of fire. The ship stopped all powered momentum as it completely shut down, and began to drift through space.

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

Galaxy

"One down." the 'Captain' nodded satisfyingly. The other Dreshayan ship had stopped flying it's circles around the Galaxy, however, and was now turning it's attention to the outpost. It slipped past the larger ship, and someone cursed.

"Pursuit course." Price ordered.

Saul frowned. "They are faster than us. If we want to do something let's do it now."

[Galaxy, Vanguard Leader. They're out of our range for the moment. If you've got something, now's the time."]

Saul fired the phaser cannon then, as Miramon aligned the ship perfectly for it. That was the tricky thing about the cannon - it packed a hell of a punch, but the ship had to be positioned very precisely to be able to utilize it. The massive burst of emerge lept forward, and penetrated the Dreshayan vessel's shields and hull clean through - on both sides.

"Computer, end simulation." Kol ordered, seeing the goals met.

"Excuse me?!"

The Chief Tactical officer spun sharply toward the new executive officer. "With all due respect, sir, we are not done here."

"That was the most pathetic display I have ever seen, Lieutenant." the XO said in a condemning tone.

"Hey now," Corran spoke up, after having picked himself up off the deck form where his "cockpit" had abruptly vanished. "Kol, that went fi- "

"Be silent, Major."

Knowing better than to argue, the Trill snapped his mouth shut as the big Klingon turned his attention back to Bental. "Lieutenant, you were unable to deal with a single vessel, of significantly smaller size and of weaker armament, until the outpost you were protecting was in direct jeopardy. What is your explanation?"

Saul seethed. It didn't take him long to regain his composure, but while he seemed professional outwards, he had a sudden desire to see how fast a Klingon can disintegrate when thrown into a plasma container.

"The division of responsibility between the Vanguards and the Galaxy kept the enemy vessel that headed toward the outpost at bay. The outpost wasn't at risk until the very final moment, in which we took advantage of the enemy's concentration on the outpost to aim and hit it with our phaser cannon."

"Insufficient, as was this entire test. Your records all show you to be much better than this, but you allowed yourselves to be soft, overconfident. You responded as though you had the luxury of time, not with the raw need of battle. It is amazing you people ever win anything." Kol continued, starting to rant. "Your next simulation will be programmed by me. You will know no details beforehand, and I sincerely hope you perform better. Otherwise I will be making recommendations to the Captain for your replacements."

Without another word, the big Klingon stalked out of the holodeck.

Saul turned to the rest of the bridge crew. "Let me translate from Klingonese.", He said. "You did OK, but not good enough. The Galaxy needed to finish off one of the darts while they were on approach vector and vulnerable. Also, it might've been a better idea to position ourselves near the outpost. That way, we wouldn't need to hold running contest with the Dreshayans. This is only the first simulation, gentlemen, and from here we can only improve. Anyone else have any comments on the exercise, aside from its... sudden ending?"

"Yes. Next time, let's throw the XO out of an airlock before we get started. Is it just me, or did anyone prefer it when we had M'Kantu-Henderson, as opposed to Henderson-Kol?" Miramon knew full well that he was being insubordinate, but the only others in the room were senior officers and a few junior officers only two of whom outranked him, and he doubted they'd disagree with his assessment. And even if they did, he preferred to speak candidly rather than stay quiet. After all, this was a simulation he and Saul had worked hard to plan. It didn't need a Klingon jumping up and down on it. Clearly the Commander hadn't been there the first time the Galaxy had encountered Dreshayans.

No one openly disagreed, and as a group, the all began to file out. Corran and Saul were the last two in the room, and the pilot clapped a friendly hand on the Tactical officer's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Lieutenant. Kol's a big bear - he's a real softie at heart. The sim went fine. We'll need to get together and analyze it, but this was a good place to start from."

Bental just nodded, and the two departed the empty holodeck without another word.

"Sitrep"

1st Lieutenant Jebediah Baile, CO Furies, Marine Recon Specialist
2nd Lieutenant Branwen London, Marine staff psychologist

Marine CO office, USS Galaxy

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

Bran came to attention when she entered the office. There were many.. no any place on this ship she would rather be right now then in the office of the commanding officer marines right now. She hadn't seen Baile yet since T'shani left and it wasn't by accident. But she couldn't keep it off any longer.

'If you need any assistance getting started, sir. I did the job for the last three months I know were everything is filed." She said to break the ice. They had to work together after all.

The marine looked up as she entered his new office. He had already decided that he hated the place. "Getting started?" he echoed humourless. "This unit is such a fucked up joke I'm still debating whether to transfer everyone off the ship and bring on a new unit." The rest of the retort he managed to hold back after a deep breath.

She went even more rigid. ~thank you very much~ Bran thought. After all she had been running things the last couple of months. "Your orders, sir?" He would probably kick her off the ship, seeing how he thought about marine shrinks. Branwen did not have many illusions. She was also certain he would take the XO position, and give it to one of his hardline 'act first, think later buddies.'

Why was he in there and not on a planet somewhere with people trying to kill him? That he could handle without any problems. Hell, he even liked it. But this? "Update me on Ward and his damn boyscouts." Baile replied and sighed. This was going to be a long day.

"yes sir." Branwen rattled off her daily report. And told him crisply on the state of every aspect of the marine detachment on the Galaxy. Then finally she took a deep breath. "And what about me, sir." It didn't even come out as a question.

His face became neutral and he looked at her through the dark goggles. "What about you, Lieutenant?"

"Well you hate my guts, sir. So I need to know if I have to start packing my bags."

Baile waited a few seconds then cocked an eyebrow. "Trust me, Lieutenant. People know when I hate them. You're not even close to getting on that list... no, Lieutenant.. I don't hate you.. What I do however is feel disgust over this project of yours... You are experimenting on people who depends on anger in the field. Put thoughts in peoples heads and you'll undermine the rest of the group and people will start to die."

"Sir, I am not going to stop. I think...."

He held up a hand to cut her off. "It doesn't matter, Lieutenant. You're too green to understand what I mean. So, no. You're not being transferred, not even being considered."

Bran was somewhat suprised. "So I can continue with my counseling work? How about XO?"

Again he held up a hand. "Didn't say you could... not at that scale. Select a referencegroup.. no combat personnel in it for the time being. They're yours to juggle around with as you seem fit. Report results to me. I'm not interested in hearing what you're talking about.. "

"But...jeez Baile, combat troops need it the most. Okay, I grant you not all. But some of these guys actually perform better if they can just talk to someone about what they have been through. They don't want to seem soft in front of their buddies but they don't mind coming to me. I just got them trusting me!" She said frustrated.

For a brief second the marine tried to recall the punishment for accidentally taping together someone's hands over a live grenade and then beaming them off the ship. It could happen. Marines had regulations against everything... "Jeez? Is that how they teach new marines to address one another?" he shook his head in dismay. "I don't care if they're ready to sing karaoke, naked with a cherry on top... You are not shrinking the combatants until I you're done with the reference group. Take it or leave it." He had a few things to clear out with the combatants before Branwen or anyone else would be allowed access to them. One was sorting out who would stay and who would not.

"Yes sir." She gritted her teeth. "And when will you be announcing your new XO, sir?" ~Moron~ She thought.

"Since you're asking I take it you want the position?"

She took a deep breath. "It has been my position for the last eight months, for the last four months I have been running the show, sir. Since you have just expressed it is all a mess, I would like to hear from you when I have to clear my desk." She kept her tone of voice respectful.

"Should that time come I assure you there will be no room for misunderstandings.." he replied calmly. "My options are limited, Lieutenant. I can't promote Johnson to be the XO.. he's a Gunny to the heart and a damn good one.. Ward.. let's just say he's got work to do. Furji - good officer but he's got a lot to learn." He pushed a button on the desk, one he had found earlier, and the display on the wall came to life, showing the various members of the unit. "Troy Elder - not gonna happen.. Too young, too clean. Rayne Sutea - I don't see that happening in the next few years."

Branwen bit her tongue, she had a much more positive view of most of these people.

"So that leaves me with you. Too young and a head filled with ideas that's already been tried and tested by hundreds of people like you for hundreds of years." Baile shrugged and turned off the display. "The XO position is yours.. at the moment that's damage control and it'll be up to you if you want it to be more than that."

"Thank you sir. I will go my best. Anything else?" She wanted to get away from his negativity.

He tossed a padd to her. "Here. It's the new squads. Bravo is yours. Furji is still the XO. He's a good squadman.. I'd listen to his advice.. " Baile hoped she understood what he was doing. It wasn't about him not liking her ideas. She needed command experience, a lot more than she had now. They had not done her a favor giving her the detachment to command. Quite the opposite.

"Yes sir." Branwen was not exactly looking forward to the future at that moment. But she was not a quitter, she would stay on the Galaxy and she would do her best to convince Baile that she was a good marine. "I will get to work than."

"Lieutenant.. " Baile stood up and holstered the sidearm that had been laying behind him on a shelf. "You'll brief me twice per week on the NCO's.. also - twice per week you'll join me for PT. If we're to make a marine out of you it's time you got in shape." It was hard to tell if he was joking or not.

"I do work out every day, sir." She didn't tell him that she was a little bit out of shape because she had been doing two full-time jobs the last four months, he would not understand.

"And Lieutenant - if you don't like the current situation there's two ways to get out. Quit or prove me wrong. You'll find yourself wishing the first before the second happens. Marine bootcamp has nothing on what The Furies will be put through as long as I'm in command."

"I will never quit." She said through gritted teeth. "I will show you, sir." She bit back a lot more than that. ~Arrogant bastard.~

A brief flare of irritation went through the marine. Quietly he smothered it before something happened. "Lieutenant." Baile addressed her with a flat voice. "If you got a problem then speak, but if sulking is what you do when things go against you, then that's something you'll be doing on another ship. If you don't have a problem, then start acting like a fucking adult and get with the program!" That was the new Baile talking. A much more evil and meaner version of a man who had already been considered for employment in Hell. "Cause we sure as shit don't have time for you regressing back to a ten-year old ten times a day."

"Yes sir. No sir, I have no other problems except the ones I have already voiced. Can I go now sir?" ~son of a....~first he was winding her up, and then getting angry when she responded.

Baile observed her in silence. Her heart was beating furiously. Was she even aware of he own reaction? He chuckled mentally. Time would show her what the marines were about. It wasn't the idea of giving the marines a shoulder to cry on, that he had no problem with. He had had his fair share of lousy debriefings after long missions. No, it was her lack of experience and adamant belief that she knew better than everyone else. ~Give it time, Lieutenant~, he thought to himself. "Prepare Bravo for a holodeck exercise. Full battlegear. Have them lined up and ready in fifteen minutes. Dismissed Lieutenant."

"yes sir." She saluted and turned to leave.

Watching her leave the office Baile sighed. Slowly he rolled his neck until it popped loudly. Behind him he could feel Maya's presence.

"Taping her hands together holding a grenade?" she asked him and rolled her eyes.

He shrugged and looked at the blond woman. "It could happen."

"Men.." the ghost of his past exclaimed and vanished in front of his eyes.

"Well, it could!" he replied to the empty room.

“I’m Not Crazy, Honest…”

Lieutenant Kimberly Ann Burton, Chief Medical Officer, USS Galaxy

Branwen London, Furies Counsellor, USS Galaxy

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

~ How did I end up choosing this one first? ~ Kimberly mused, she'd debated the choices for her psych review, and had resolved to give the senior counsellors each the once over before committing to one individual, ~ oh yeah, random selection process, ~ she remembered, ~ names in a hat! ~

Feeling a little out of place wandering through the marine offices she found the door she was looking for and tapped the chime.

"Come in!" Bran called out in her welsh lilt.

Hearing the reply from inside Kimberly walked in and smiled at the young lady she found there, "Hi, I'm Lieutenant Burton, I made an appointment earlier."

"Oh yes, our new CMO, welcome ma'am." She said smiling and offered her hand. "Please have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink before we start?"

"No, I'm fine thanks," she said as she sat, "just thought I'd get to know the counselling staff here before I settle on who to see," she explained, "is it Ms London, Branwen?"

"Just call me Branwen, ma'am," she said with a smile, "you are going to meet everybody? Very brave. Most officers tend to stay away from all the counselling staff. You are aware that I'm also marine?" She asked.

"And are you also aware I'm a former Chief Counsellor from the Relentless," she countered with a smile, "I have all the papers that go with the job," she added, "that's why I'm getting to know the counsellors aboard, I'd like to meet you all before I pick someone. And you're not the first marine shrink I've ever met, though it isn't a common combination," she admitted.

"Really. That's cool ma'am." Bran beamed.

"And enough of the Ma'am please," Kimberly asked with a chuckle, "I'm Kimberly. So, Branwen, tell me about yourself?"

"If you tell me more about yourself next. I came out of the marine academy about a year ago. This is my first posting. And they have thrown me in the deep end. I am Exec officer as well. But I love both jobs. Ma.. Kimberly."

"I know the feeling, I qualified from the Academy as a counsellor but I've been studying for my MD ever since, and I enjoy both jobs," she admitted, "I got thrown in at the deep end too, when my boss on the Arizona got hospitalised during a mission, it's not the easiest way to learn the job is it."

"And now they are throwing you into the deep end again as CMO. How does that feel?" Bran asked genuinely curious.

"Strange as it sounds I actually enjoy it," she admitted, "there's no better way to learn I think, after my boss was hospitalised on the Arizona I spent a while in a pretty dicey situation managing a department and looking after the crew, plus dealing with the aftermath, I think it was that that got me the recommendation to the Relentless for their chief counsellors slot," shrugging, "I guess it just depends on how you handle yourself under pressure. How are you finding it?"

"I know the feeling. Within months of coming from the academy I was XO for the marines here. On top of being a therapist. Sometimes it's pretty tough, most of the times I really like it. It keeps me busy." She smiled. "So how about your private life?"

"You're quite direct aren't you, straight for the questions, I guess you need to be blunt with the marines?" Kimberly asked back.

"Yes I have to sometimes. Also I wasn't seeing this as a counselling talk, and in my private life I can be a little bit blunt, and I want to know everything about everybody." She grinned.

"Well we have that in common then, I'm naturally curious, and I love to listen to people talk about themselves or their homes, it's nice to get to know people," Kimberly admitted, "how long have you been aboard?"

"I guess it's almost a year now. Time is really flying. I have been so busy with all my duties. There is hardly time for private life, not that I mind. I have made some friends, and I love spending time with them. I am totally not into men yet. How about you?"

"Very curious now?" she remarked with a small smile, "if you're so busy with little time for a private life I'd say it's time to speak with your boss, you're obviously overworking yourself," Kimberly decided with a growing smile, "enough time to get yourself a boyfriend perhaps," she suggested slyly, curious about that comment as well.

Branwen flushed very red. "I am through with boyfriends for the rest of my life." She said softly. "No big deal. I like spending time with my friends. And you?"

"I have hobbies," Kimberly replied simply, very curious now about Branwen, "and my own shuttle, so freedom to go where I please is something I enjoy," she admitted, "do you mind if I ask something personal though?"

"A shuttle. My sister can pilot one. She loves it... I guess so." She asked a little hesitantly.

"Why do you say you're through with boyfriends?" she asked curiously.

"Bad experience, I guess." Bran said softly. "Nothing traumatic, no rough treatment or anything, he just fancied someone else more. My roommate and friend."

"It happens," Kimberly admitted softly, "but you shouldn't let one bad experience lead your choices," she suggested, "how do you and your roommate get along now?"

"Good. To be honest she liked him first. I just didn't know when I fell in love with him. And he didn't exactly tell me." She smiled. "But enough about me, tell me more about you Kimberly."

"What would you like to know?" she asked openly.

"Anything you would wish to share, I'm not asking into the super personal or anything. Just things you would tell another officer on meeting for the first time," Branwen said smiling.

"Young, single, newly qualified Doctor, with a recently appointed fourteen year old ward basically sums me up," Kimberly admitted, "I've spent most of my career so far studying or being a counsellor, so this is going to be a bit of a change of pace."

"A ward. You have him or her with you?" Bran asked.

"Her... Sara-Jayne, and yup she's with me, fourteen going on twenty five," she admitted, "are there many other children aboard?"

"There are a good few. I am mentor to a girl her age. Samantha." Bran said.

"What's she like?" Kimberly asked curiously, "Sara-Jayne hasn't met many other children yet, perhaps they could get together?"

"She's different. Very independent, getting in trouble all the time. But Samantha has a good heart. And she could use some friends her own age." Branwen said.

"Sounds like something we'll have to organise," Kimberly suggested, "in the meantime, how did you end up mentoring her?"

"The captain actually assigned her to me. Because she can be a disruptive factor on the ship." Branwen said smiling fondly. "So now I am trying to work with her."

"You sound like you like her a lot, what's she been getting up to though for the Captain to assign her to a counsellor?"

"That I'm not going to tell you." Branwen smiled. "I am sure you understand why, Kimberly."

Nodding, "I just asked in case it was common knowledge... anyway, what can you tell me about the Galaxy? What should a new girl be on the look out for?" she asked with another smile.

"It depends what you want to be looking for." Branwen smiled. "Or if its private or work. I can tell you it is very difficult to get bored here."

"That's good to know... What sort of things do you get up to outside of work then?"

"I haven't had much time to relax lately, doing two jobs. But when I'm not I like to fence or to read. And during shore leave I like to go diving. And you?"

"I have a few hobbies, Terran history and mythology is a bit of a passion and I love reading about both, I have my shuttle as I said which I use a lot, and I'm spending a lot of time with Sara-Jayne at the moment, I'll be looking around soon to see what there is aboard to do."

"Maybe we could become friends?" Branwen asked. "Your hobbies sound interesting."

“”I’d like to get to know you better too,” Kimberly replied with another smile, “perhaps you can help me choose a counsellor so we don’t have ‘work’ to worry about while we’re talking?”

"I can do that. Commander Dallas is very good and so is Brian. Good you be my doctor if we become friends? I know it's not as strict as with shrinks. And I would rather have a doctor whom I can trust."

“I don’t think it’s as strict as counsellors and clients, but I’ll check,” she assured the young woman, “though some of the regs are often, ‘overlooked’ for Doctors and Counsellors on starships,” Kimberly reminded Branwen, “considering our circumstances.”

“But you wouldn’t take me as a shrink if we were going to be friends right?” She grinned.

“Anyway, who is Brian?” she asked, “I’ve heard of Commander Dallas, but not Brian, do tell.”

“He is the assistant chief councillor. A nice guy, it just depends if you want a man or a woman. They are both very good.”

“I guess I should make a point of stopping by their offices then,” Kimberly muttered, “I should be off,” she said suddenly, I have dinner to cook,” standing, “perhaps we could meet for lunch one afternoon, continue our chat?” she asked suddenly.

"I would like that." Branwen said.

“I’ll give you a call tomorrow then,” Kimberly replied, smiling she left and made a note to contact the chief counsellor and her deputy tomorrow.

“The Twists and Turns of Life”

Primary characters;

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe

Lieutenant (Jg) Naranda Sol Roswell

Civilian Saia (APC)

And the babysitter! (NPC)

It was funny how life took twists and turns, ups and downs, through depression happiness and joy.

The Galaxy was much like that. As Dhanishta strolled through the brightly lit corridors of the ship, she seldom referred to as a home (of hell), she noted all the emotion that ran through the halls. Things never seemed to be good, sure there was a glimmer of happiness here and there, but on the whole all the crew were always in pain. She took a mental note of the missions that she had been involved in, how many of them had gone wrong. How many people had died, needles deaths, senseless deaths.

What was it about this ship, this crew that prompted devastation? No matter where they went pain and suffering followed hand in hand.

Throughout the ship there were memorials going on. It seemed like every corner she turned there was another ‘party’ of people in mourning suits. Although there was one group of people that looked like they were going to a beach party! Everyone dealt a different way, and Dhani wondered momentarily what kind of wake she would have had, or even if the Galaxy noted her passing at all.

These reasons and more was why she didn’t make friends anymore. She remembered vividly sitting in Suders office, now O’Sheas, reading the bio of a new crew member; one Naranda Sol Roswell. At first she had been excited, a new member of the engineering crew! But as she read through the bio her excitement began to wane. Of the two people that she had connected with on the ship one had left and the other had died. So she wasn’t going to get caught up in the social side of life. Cause at the end of the day the Galaxy would come under fire, or they would get sent on some stupid mission and her new found friend would die.

As it happened Dhani had been the one to die.

She didn’t think that her death had affected anyone on the ship. After all, her friends had already gone. There was no one left on the ship to care about her. And after the reaction she got when she got back, she wondered why the cosmos had pulled her from the tight grip of death and shoved her back into the land of the living.

But of what she could remember from the last mission, maybe there were more people that cared about her than she had realised.

Somehow this Roswell chick had formed some sort of bizarre connection with her. Dhani could barley remember them working together in her quarters on the EEH, but Roswell had indicated that there was more to it than a passing acquaintance, though at the time she had mentioned it Dhani was all but a nats breath from ripping her throat out. Roswell had been breathing; and that had been enough at the time for Dhani to want to kill her. She hadn’t though, not even attempted to…. She hoped!

And so, just like life took her through twists and turns, ups and downs and all the rest, the Galaxy’s corridors did likewise, and now she stood in front Roswell’s door, her hand resting on the chime.

She couldn’t deny that she felt quite nervous at what was to come. But like all things in life, the future was unknown, and that was always met with trepidation. It was healthy to feel nervous. It wasn’t healthy however to feel guilty, without knowing what you felt guilty for!

Shelly was reading a PADD on the couch with Saia painting in the corner. As was usual with this babysitting job. Made worse with the recent trauma of the Dithparu. Shelly was patient. Saia didn’t have to like her right now, but maybe she would someday, and make these afternoons less awkward.

As usual when the chime rang, the two looked at each other, deciding who would answer; making the guest wait several moments. It was always Saia who finally answered, but the testing of wills had to be done. Any ten-year-old knew that. It was like a rule.

When she opened the door, she immediately smiled. The woman in front of her was Trill! There was only one she knew well. The other Trills didn’t come knocking on the door everyday. “Hi!” Saia chirped at the woman.

Dhanis eyes scaled down as she looked for the owner of the voice. She frowned deeply at the child and then looked into the room behind her. She noticed the woman on the couch and half smiled before looking back down at the girl.

Kneeling down as to be on eye level with the child she smiled slightly, “Hi.” She replied slowly. Dhani glanced back up at the door to check that she had the right quarters.

“Does Lieutenant Sol Roswell live here?” Dhani asked her eyes flicking between the child and the woman on the couch. She didn’t want to be rude to the child; she knew how she hated people looking through her when she was a kid, though she could feel her face begin to flush slightly with embarrassment. Was she at the right quarters…? And if so why was there a child here? She must have been about 8 or 9 years old. Roswell’s bio never mentioned that she had a daughter. And this girl was a Trill. Maybe she was half trill like Dhani, and if she was Roswell’s daughter then she would be half Betaziod, just like Dhani…. Dhanis smile widened slightly as she mused that possibility over in her mind; someone just like her!

Saia shook her head, "She's on the holodeck doin some simulation."

“Oh,” Dhani replied frowning, “but she does live here?” she asked again.

Saia nodded, "And Branwen."

Dhani nodded. She should have checked the computer for who else lived with Roswell. She just assumed that as she lived alone, so did everybody else. Though she wasn’t alone anymore. Michael was with her now, and that was an adjustment.

Shelly stood then and walked to the door, "Who’s this, Saia?"

Dhani looked at the woman as she approached. There was a clear and almost tangible distain between the child and the woman. Dhani wondered for a second if this was Branwen that the girl had mentioned. But then she had met Branwen, she was the counsellor come marine…. Dhani frowned again as she tried to piece together who was who. Again this was why she had kept out of the social circle for the past few years, the coma had helped to do that, things were just too confusing. Keeping track of who was who and who was with who and who loved who etc was all too much for Dhani to handle. She was still trying to work out who she was and come to terms with feeling her *own* emotions now.

“Sorry.” Dhanishta said, realising that she was a stranger at the door, “I am Lieutenant Eshe.” she said extending her hand to the woman.

Shelly had opened her mouth, but Saia responded, "That's Shelly. I'm Saia. What do you want with Nara."

Shelly let out an annoyed breath, but let it go.

Dhani inwardly smiled at the exchange between the two of them. She could feel their emotions, like live wires, the electricity so raw. All it would take for them to erupt was a slight change in the wind and the sparks would fly. The only saving grace for them was that Saia was a child and there for it was doubtful that the outcome would be catastrophic. There would be no blood loss. And for that matter no love loss.

“I just wanted to talk with her.” Dhani replied softly. “Will she be long?”

Saia looked very disappointed that she didn't know. Nara was gone before she came back from school and Shelly failed to tell her when Saia would be free from this perky babysitter. She looked at Shelly now.

Shelly smiled at Saia, suppressing a smirk and looked at Eshe, "Pretty soon."

Just then, Nara rounded the corner and saw Dhani standing outside of her quarters. She stopped a moment and just looked, wondering what she was doing there. She remembered the exchange they had. Nara hadn't let it move into her mind enough to think to apologize, though now she realized she needed to.

Dhani tried hard not to laugh at Saia’s predicament. She understood all to well wanting to be a grown up and acting like one and then at the last moment not being able to follow through. “Is it al right if I waited for her or….” Dhani stopped. She could feel something familiar.

Turning her head she looked down the hall and locked eyes with Roswell.

Her stomach twisted and she could feel her skin prick. The possibility of confrontation was all it took now for the adrenalin to start flowing through her body.

Nara continued down the hall. She wasn't angry at Dhani. She didn't know what had happened, but she figured it was either her fault or Dhani was possessed as well. As she came closer, she spoke, "Hello, Lt. Eshe. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Dhanis body stiffened. The calmness in Roswell’s voice was disturbing. She didn’t know why, but she was sure that Roswell had just cause to hate her. Maybe she was lulling her into a false sense of security... maybe she was genuine. Either way Dhani was tense.

“I ..” Dhani began, but something made her stop, probably the fact that three sets of eyes were on her, and one set belonged to a child. There was an in build instinct to make sure that any un-pleasantries didn’t happen in front of innocent eyes. Dhani there for walked towards Nara and lowered her voice.

“I just wanted to talk with you.” She said. Noting the look on Nara’s face she elaborated, “About what happened….” She said her eyes and tone indicating that she wasn’t going to spell it all out in the corridor.

Nara simply nodded and looked at Shelly, "Do you mind staying a little longer?"

Shelly nodded and when Saia started scowling, Nara gave her a look. Saia sighed and went inside. Nara was getting good at "the look."

Nara looked at Dhani and started walking down the corridor, "Where do you think we should go?"

Dhani shook her head, “No it’s alright, we can talk later I don’t want to take up your time if your busy.” She replied taking a step back.

Without turning, Nara answered, "No. We need to deal with it now."

Dhani nodded and bit her lip slightly. “Right then.” She said more to herself than Nara, “We can talk here if you like?” Dhani asked. If they talked in Nara’s quarters then there would be no shouting or arguing, though she was presuming that Nara had the same ideals when it came to the innocence of children that she did.

Nara shook her head. The first place that popped into her head came out of her mouth, "We'll go to an observation deck. Things seem to get sorted out well there."

“Sure.” Dhani replied. Though she was slightly dismayed she didn’t show it. “Lead the way.” She tried to sound slightly chipper about it, though in reality she was shitting a brick.

The walk to the observation deck was taken in utter silence, adding to the uncomfortable atmosphere. Neither officer looked at each other and for a while Dhani was content to listen to the hum of her own mind. Getting lost in her own thoughts until the swish of the door pulled her from her quiet contemplation.

Nara entered, asked for full lights and turned to Dhani, content to let her start. Nara held her face expressionless. Honestly, she didn't know what to feel here.

Dhani looked around her eyes glazing over everything. She could have been stood knee deep in a swamp and she wouldn’t have noticed. Slowly she turned to Nara and swallowed hard.

“If I lied to you, you would know. Wouldn’t you?” Dhani asked her tone serious.

Nara furrowed her brow. What an odd way to start this. "I don't know."

Dhani stared into Nara’s eyes. “You and me, have something in common. We are Betaziods. You know when someone is lying to you. You can feel it sense it whatever.” She said waving her hand in the air slightly.

Nara shook her head, "I wasn't trained the same way. I got a lifetime of information in one sitting from Cerin. He's not Betazoid and their training is different. Besides, I have my walls up all the time. I don't allow myself to be telepathic unless I want to. I'm just like a non-telepath until I take the walls down. Or until someone tries to break in." The last part she looked away a moment, lowering her voice.

Dhani stared at the floor for a moment, she could feel the frustration rising into anger. She pushed it down and took a deep breath.

“I..” Dhani shook her head. She needed to know that Nara could tell if she were lying, she wanted to make sure that she believed that she was telling the truth. Dhani turned away and began to walk slowly. The movement helped her to organise her thoughts. She wasn’t sure where to go from here. She could just blurt out her secret or try to gather information first about what had happened or… she just didn’t know.

Turing she looked back up at Nara, wondering if she had though of a way to start this conversation.

Nara watched Dhani. Heck, an apology needed to be spit out and she figured she needed to dish it, "I wasn't myself. That's not an excuse, I was enough of myself to still be held responsible. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for entering your mind without permission, motives and intentions aside."

Dhani’s brow knitted together as she stared at Nara. “I didn’t come for an apology.” She said slowly. “And you don’t need to apologise. If there are any apologies to be made it should be me.” ~but I’m not here for that~ Dhani thought to herself.

“So, I’m sorry.” She continued, though she still wasn’t sure exactly what for. Was there more to apologise for, and would an ‘I’m sorry’ do and how many people did she have to say that to?

Dhani sighed. “I don’t remember a thing.” She finally confessed.

"We had a full out mental battle going on. If O'Shea hadn't broken us apart, one of us..." She paused and shrugged, "I would have blacked out."

Dhani nodded and folded her arms across her chest as she leaned against a railing. “What else..?” she broke off and swallowed hard. She feared that she had hurt someone and now, now she was more afraid, she needed to know what she had done. But part of her didn’t want to know. “What did I do?” she asked quietly as her mind began to rage with the possibilities of what she could have done.

Nara smiled, "Just a lot of pushing I think."

Dhani again nodded. Even though Nara smiled it didn’t make Dhani feel any better. “The kind of pushing that me and Suder did?” she asked randomly. The kind of violation that he had done to her was more accurate but she didn’t want to say that. Or admit that to herself. She was finding out slowly what she really was and she didn’t like it. Her eyes resumed to staring at the floor.

“What about after that?” Dhani asked. “Did I do anything to you...“

Nara frowned. Dhani was deeply conflicted. Anyone could see it on her face. "Just made my headache worse."

She looked down, "Plus, well, no one likes their mind invaded."

Dhani couldn’t look at Nara any more. “No,” she said as her eyes misted, “And no one should have their mind invaded.” She tried to conceal the tear that rolled down her cheek by turning her head away from Nara. Looking across the room at the door she wondered if now was the time to make her exit.

Nara looked at Dhani, and decided to try again to say what she tried to say before. The catalyst of the event and why they were standing here now. "I really am glad you're back."

~I’m not~ was Dhanis instant thought. “Thank you.” She said solemnly, still staring at the door. She could run, but wasn’t that what she had done all her life? She stood up and looked at Nara.

“That means a lot to me.” she said. “And I’m sorry about the way I reacted, I wasn’t myself either.” That was the understatement of the year. In truth she hadn’t been herself since coming aboard this ship. And she wondered if she ever would be.

"Why were you concerned if I could tell if you were lying earlier?"

Dhani shrugged and sighed slightly, “I wanted to make sure you knew that anything I did was not by choice. And that I really don’t remember anything. I don’t want to be fake with you. With anyone.” She added, her voice full of sorrow and regret.

"I believe you. Without using a lie detector." Nara spoke kindly.

Dhani smiled slightly. Nara was a good girl, a nice girl. But still Dhani didn’t feel warmed by her words. They only made her feel worse. There was a quality to Nara that Dhanishta no longer possessed. She was sure she had it once. It was a slight naïveté, an unconditional automatic love, in a way, a forgiving nature; Dhani couldn’t really describe it. Though she knew if Nara lost it she wouldn’t be the same person. And she knew she didn’t have it. She looked at the world through different eyes these days.

Nara sighed, "Well, I hope we can still work on that EEH together." Maybe changing subjects would take the gloom out of the room.

Dhani genuinely smiled, “Yeah, that sounds like a plan. What do you think O’Shea would make of it?” she teased. She could still remember how those two got on. Somehow those first few exchanges didn’t escape her memory.

Nara raised an eyebrow, "At the moment, I could give a flying monkey's..." She stopped and smiled to explain, "She and I don't really get along."

"Now *that* I remember!" Dhani said laughing slightly.

Nara laughed too, glad the mood had changed.

(Follow up to "A man about a horse")

"Horsing Around"

Lt. Cmdr Brianna "Anna" O'Shea
Chief Engineer / Liaison S.C.E.

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer

Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell,
Engineer

Ensign Zev Raynor
Terran Telepath 'Intelligence' Officer

Lt JG Claire Barnes,
Security / Hazard Team

::: Interior Turbo Lift ::

As the lift slowed and came to a halt. Anna stepped out and started toward holodeck four. Taking strides as if she was on a mission, she reached the wall console and began to run through the list of programs that involved horse back rides. Finding a program finally, she looked at the designer and saw it was Naranda Sol Roswell, the bane of her existence. Sighing she called up the program. Then sent a message for Nara to join her in the holodeck, giving her no reason why for the invitation. In Anna's fast clicks of the buttons she accidentally copied the invitation to Zev Raynor, though didn't notice it until she'd done sent it.

Walking into the holodeck, she moved over to a stall and began to get her horse ready.

Nara almost missed the message as she was making her way into the bedroom. She would had let it slip into the queue of the many unread messages, but the sender made her wince and grunt as she walked over and pressed the read command. The message was vague and sent Nara in a fury of worry. She called up Shelly over the intercom as Saia would be back from being with her new Trill friend (an older man who took the small orphan under his wing to teach her the way of the Trill).

Moments later, she walked into the holodeck and looked around the very familiar landscape. The worry escalated. Did she miss a protocol for creating Holoprograms?

Raynor was sitting in his bed room, enjoying an ancient game of Super Mario, in an attempt to be his previous high score. He had modified his laptop to play ancient earth games as well as created a wireless controller that would be compatible with almost all 'game systems' as they were called. He was on the final boss in record time and was hoping to beat him as quickly as possible, when he got the message. By the time he finished reading it approximately 3 seconds Mario was dead.

Mario had died in the delivery of this message...

Mario had been one jump away from victory... from the new highscore...

He stared at the screen, his lip quivering... his eyes watering... he was taking shallow breathes. Much swearing ensued at increased volume directed upward relative to the ship's gravity.

And after a minute of this overkill of a cliché, because he couldn't really give a damn about Mario... he exited the room, heading to meet this Brianna O'Shea. Apparently he was being invited to a holoprogram with a female he had never met.

A scary thought entered his mind as entered the turbo lift... he hoped this wasn't part of some weird blind dating service...

Anna was finishing saddling her horse when she heard Nara come in. Mounting up on her horse, she turned and looked toward the exit where Nara and some man stood. Unknowingly she invited him and Claire from security. "Nara... thought we could go for a ride." She said, then looked to the man. "Brianna O'Shea, can I help you?" Anna asked, as she pulled back on the reins of the horse.

Nara had been too busy trying to piece these things together that when Zev came in, she barely nodded in acknowledgement. What worse, when O'Shea DID show up, it was on Nara's favorite horse. A chestnut colored steed with a long white nose marking. She held back the pout and nodded, "Yes ma'am. I'll go saddle up." She made her way to the stable and chose a painted mare and began to saddle the animal, all the while wondering what this was about and feeling perturbed that O'Shea would sneak this up on her.

Raynor looked at the Chief engineer a moment... "Got a weird invite to this Holodeck from you... I'm Zev Raynor."

After a several moments, Nara rode up to stand her horse at a distance beside O'Shea.

"Hmm. must have clicked copy more times then I realized." Anna said, then leaned down to extend her hand. "Brianna Catherine O'Shea... Just call me Anna." She said, shaking his hand. "Since your hear, saddle up and join us for a ride." She said, then put a cowboy hat on her head, with a few red curls hanging out from blow it.

Raynor had never really gone riding on a horse before... motorcycles, hover bikes, elephants (briefly), a strip bar ride when he was five, even Chocobos (A fictional bird that looked like ostrich, but had a bigger head, actually could support his weight, and was the rough equivalent of a horse) he had done. Horses were somewhat new to him.

However that being said, he did have extended experience of it, and he could use that. Unfortunately that one person, was Indian and had used Indian mats instead of the saddle, and ironically fell off the horse half a dozen times.

"Sure why not... its not like I have a life on board or anything yet," Raynor finally said. "Besides, who knows, I make out of it, or a friend... Or both if I'm lucky." <Which I'm not> Raynor took mental note of as he went over to the stables...

The door opened again and Claire walked into the holodeck, looking around. "Hi, I'm wondering why you sent me an invite to a holodeck session?"

"Good, saddle up, Raynor." Anna said, then looked toward Claire. "Hey, Claire. Probably cause I accidentally copies the invite to you. Saddle up and join us... we are forming a posse." Anna said then grinned.

Raynor grabbed a matt threw it on the back of one the horses, and grabbed the reins he would need and attached it to his chosen horse. He didn't bother with the saddle. And began to whisper sweet nothings into the horses ear. He wondered how well it was programmed, or if it would even respond to Native American horse talk...

The steed actually lowered itself as if allowing him an easier time to get on... <Guess it was...> Then he actually got on the animal, and it seemed in total shock and was trashing about wildly in order to get him off. Like a little kid kicking and screaming all the way to their evil aunt ester's house. And it was just as clear that Raynor wasn't going to leave, though you couldn't tell by the way he kept flailing his arms around. Only if you looked at his legs you could see that he was applying himself not to fall off professionally. Though because of the pressure from his legs, the horse seemed to be speeding up. Which was just dandy to say the least...

Raynor was screaming his lungs to exhaustion... and as he was doing so, his was probably over doing his whole mindless yet comical ensign bit a little too far... as his this struggle looked more like slap stick that any serious attempt for help... which it was...

"BoOoOoYAH!" Raynor yelled which was mixed with "HEELP!" as the thrashing continued.

Claire smiled and had the computer copy in her favorite horse from another program. When the beautiful chestnut-colored stallion appeared nearby, she smiled and walked over to him, running her hand over him, "Shhh.. I've missed you a lot, Cyllene. Once I get you set, we can go catch him."

Taking his plain bridle, she slipped it over his head when he leant down before she slipped on his saddle and made sure it wasn't going to come loose. Sliding up onto him, she patted his mane before directing him forward.

Charging forwards with a loud "Hyah!!", Claire lead her horse onwards, although for an Australian Stock Horse, the short distance burst was nothing for an animal that had been classed as the finest cavalry mount in the world.

Reaching Raynor, she had Cyllene shift in so the other horse had to slow down as it turned before having to stop totally.

Anna looked over and saw Claire was helping Raynor, so she didn't move to help. But nodded to Claire and gave her the look of, watch the newbie.

Meanwhile... Outside...

"But why won't you teach me how to pilot your shuttle?" the teenager pleaded.

"Because one, I've see you flying on the holodeck, the idea is to 'miss' the obstacles in your path, and two, you haven't passed your basic flight proficiencies yet, when you have, we'll... see," Kimberly offered her ward tentatively.

Huffing and pouting as only a fourteen year old can Sara-Jayne looked around, "So what're we doing here?"

"Well the computer says there's a holodeck active, but there's no privacy lock or do not disturb active, so I thought we'd stick our heads in and see who's there, meet some new people," she suggested.

Looking at the panel by the door Sara-Jayne shook her head vigorously, "No way," she declared, "not horses again!"

Looking over her wards shoulder Kimberly smiled, "The safety protocols are on, we'll just try not to fall off so much this time," recalling their last, and brief, horse riding simulation they'd attempted.

"I'll leave you to play," the teenager decided, "That shrink offered to introduce me to her friend, I think I'll go see if they're free."

"Dinner's at seventeen hundred," Kimberly called out to the rapidly receding back of her ward, sighing she tapped the door control and walked in, looking around she smiled cheerily at the small group inside, "Hi, mind if I join you," she asked a little hesitantly.

Anna horse reared back, but she held tightly. "Whoa.." She said then looked over toward Kimberly. "No... more the merrier... we are just going for a nice stroll... everyone know everyone?" Anna asked.

"Yes..." Raynor said with such a level of sarcasm, that an alien who had no concept of what it meant to lie, would still be able to tell he meant no. Though he had briefly chatted with two out of the four women he was currently keeping company, and had a slew of absorbed memories he didn't really KNOW them.

Nara faked a cough so she could cover her mouth to hide the smirk. That horse never reared on her. Though holographic, they had a bit of artificial intelligence. The creature was used to Nara on it's back. Apparently, it was having issues getting used to a new rider. After hearing the question, she put her serious face back on and looked around. "Not everyone, Ma'am."

She then looked at Kimberly, the only one she hadn't met before now. "I'm Lt. Naranda Roswell." Nara had decided to drop the junior grade bit in introductions. The pips made it clear she was not a full Lt.

"Kimberly," she introduced herself, "I'm your new CMO," she offered as well, "do these things come with training wheels?" she asked with a mixture of humour and wry sarcasm.

Anna smiled. "I think we might need them, think my reprogramming of this program might have kicked the training wheels off it. Whoever created the program, must have wrote it for children." Anna said, then shot a glance at Nara. The look Anna gave her was, smirk just once more and it would be hell on duty shift.

Claire grinned, tilting her oiled roo-skin Driza-Bone hat down, "I don't really know any of you. I'm Lt jg Claire Barnes from Security. I also am in the Hazard Team. I got nicknamed as Gun-Bunny."

"Well isn't that charming..." Raynor said, for a split second becoming slightly aware of the weapons he carried so often they were of part of his second skin, well hidden under the dark trench coat he wore during his off duty hours. Many might see this as a sign of insanity, but it was just how he was raised. Like putting on your shoes before going out.

"You can call me God..." Raynor started, then added "if you like. Though I generally respond better to Raynor, Zev, not so good to Ensign, been known to have been called Space Monkey, for various reasons... I work in 'Intelligence'" saying Intelligence with the bunny ears quotation hand movement. "I am not evil, and I am not funny," he said again with much sarcasm. It was in this way that lies could be more dependable source of information than the truth.

"Lets head out.. there is a trail out there, I've only got a little time before meeting my brother... you might know him Raynor.. Paulo DiMillo?" Anna said, then rode her horse, who she had named Raven.

Raynor simply nodded, refraining from throwing in any more gags for now.

Nara stopped listening after hearing the part about reprogramming. She waited till Anna stopped speaking and tried to sound civil as she said, "I do hope you saved it under a different name. It's only considerate." She was ticked. She was BEYOND ticked. If she made the changes over her redesign and Nara's work was gone, then, well Nara would just have to live with it. But to insult her!

They weren't on duty and there was no need for Nara to wait on the others. She took off for the trail, not going too fast in case Ms. High and Mighty Oshea changed the path.

"I'm sensing tension..." Raynor commented bluntly, blinking slightly.

Claire grinned, leaning over, "Mate, I'm wondering if I should have brought battle amour and a phaser on stun for protection. If they want to fight it out, let them deal with it as Engineering politics."

"I'm thinking more along the lines of a cup," Raynor said looking back at Claire. "Its usually the only place I'm scared of being hit."

"You'll all have to forgive Ms. Roswell... she's highly strung it would appear." Anna said, as she began to lead her horse along the river. "She and I've have issues. I was hoping that this would give us a fresh start, clearly my hopes for that are for nothing." Anna said then looked over at Raynor, Clair and Kimberly. "Funny thing about it is, everyone else on this ship and Starfleet like me." Anna said, then smirked, at the joke. The smile stayed on her face, but Anna was still slightly torked at Nara. It was the way Nara was so smug, acted like she was some superior over everyone. The times Anna had held herself back from slapping the smirk off Nara's face, couldn't be counted. Anna would just ask for five minutes in a dark corridor with her, that's all, nothing major. No doubt Nara would think in her self-ego-stroking mind she'd be able to take the red haired chief engineer. Course how would Nara know that Baile had actually gave Anna some lessons, wasn't perfect, wasn't on level with Baile, but was enough to crack some skulls.

"So, Claire, Raynor, Kimberly... what's new in your departments?" Anna asked, breaking the silence.

Claire shrugged, "Same old stuff... Security doesn't change much... Did get a bit of stuff to do last mission with the Hazard team though."

"Me..." Raynor said, who couldn't really think of anything else. "Transferred in during the whole last mission... Which by far the warmest welcome I've ever had the pleasure of receiving." This probably wasn't the wisest thing to say, but Raynor wasn't trying to be particularly wise at the moment.

"Sounds interesting to say the least." Anna said, then smiled.

"Me? Interesting? You got get out more..." Raynor joked.

Smiling at the banter around her Kimberly mounted the horse she had selected carefully, "Well I'm still getting to know everyone," she said simply, "and what's been going on here recently."

Nara was slightly ahead of the rest. She heard them talking vaguely, and thought she heard her name, but figured she was paranoid. At one point, she slowed and let them catch up. When she was in speaking distance, she asked O'Shea, "Is there a reason I was invited here?"

~Other than being spoken down to in front of an audience that wasn't Engineering.~ She finished the thought in her head.

Anna looked up at Nara. Just the way she asked that was like nails on the chalkboard. "I was hoping for a peaceful ride, in slight hope to have a chance to get to know you and see beyond your..." Anna paused then held herself back from going on. She smiled. "I'll just say you've lived up to everything I previously thought, Nara." Anna said.

Nara tried not to narrow her eyes. She instead looked ahead, keeping a steady pace as she thought. Oshea was making an effort. Not much of one, but it was enough to calm Nara down a little. After a few moments, she answered, "It's obvious you don't have much of an opinion about me. That's fine." She looked at her superior then, "I do try to be the best engineer I can. That's pretty much all I ask my superiors to see." She looked ahead again, still keeping pace.

Anna dismounted her horse and began to lead it as she thought about what Nara said. "My opinion of you probably means very little to you, Lieutenant. You don't strike me as the kind very much what others think." Anna said, then paused. "As for your abilities as an engineer. Time will have to be the judge of that. I've been in your place and had my share of what I've done to you. You have to see why I push you and the others. To make you into the great engineer you so desperately want to become. I'm not here to make your life hard, Naranda. I'm here to make help you achieve your goals." Anna said then paused to reflect for a moment.

"I'm not sure how to say this. Cause every time I talk to you I always get the impression your not listening, or you smirk, or almost seem to have idle thoughts lingering in your eyes. You have an air about you that turns people off, whether you mean to or not. Several times I've seen glances from you that seem to reflect the statement, well I could have done that or, that all she could come up with? I'm going to offer you some advice, Nara. Having a personality will make life very hard for you to achieve anything." Anna said, then mounted the horse and turned slightly to look at the others. "How about a race toward the stables?" Anna asked, having said all she'd say about the topic.

She shook her head, laughing. Kind of odd for the situation, "I try to act like I don't care what you think. I think it'll make it easier. But I do. Why else would how you think of me bothers me?" Then she smirked. But it was somehow friendlier from the others she'd given Oshea. "Say when."

"Nara... keep people wondering by giving them what they don't expect." Anna said, then nudged her horse and took off.

"WHEN!" Anna yelled to the others as she began to race back toward the stables.

Watching Anna race off Kimberly shrugged and kicked her horse to pursue, she was by no means a great rider, but at least this time she didn't fall off as she held on during the head long flight, "do this often?" she shouted to Anna."

"What are we? Six?" asked as this infantile race began. Then again remembering who he was, began to chase after them at an blazingly increased speed, screaming 'BoOoOoOYAH!' all over again.

Nara smiled as she pressed her heel against her horse's flank. She took what Oshea said and planned to mull it over later. She needed to figure out how to go beyond what was expected of her. Not Sakaria. She would start with being more than what Oshea would expect of her. If that's what it took to win the woman's respect (and help her career) then so be it.

"This is tame compared to what I usually do, Zev!" Anna yelled back as she turned and looked at them. "Sometimes I get really juvenile!" She said laughing.

Nara came in last. The mare obviously wasn't trying. Then Nara remembered the mare was originally programmed to be somewhat docile, not going too fast. It was meant for Saia. She couldn't help but smile from the speed they did manage. Also from seeing Oshea as a person.

Having separated from the small group in its wild ride back Kimberly rejoined them, controlling the holographic beast a little erratically, "Next time, something without a pre-programmed mind of its own," she decided, "you guys do this often?" she asked.

"Not nearly as much as I'd like!" Anna said, then came to a halt when Claire won the race back to the stables. "Damn, Claire... you ride like Rambo taking a hill!" She said, dismounting. After a few minutes of talking with everyone she turned. "I hate to run, but I've got to go meet up and torture my brother.." She said snicker then rubbed her hips.

"God, now my thighs are sore." She said, tossing a wave over her shoulder as she called for the exit and then left the holodeck.

"Sibling Spat"

Lt. Cmdr Brianna "Anna" O'Shea
Chief Engineer / Liaison S.C.E.

Ensign Paulo DiMillo
Intelligence Officer

::: Cantina, USS Galaxy :::

Anna had went for a ride and felt more relaxed, then before. Now she sat at a table in the corner of the Cantina, waiting on her brother Paulo to arrive. She'd sent him a message to meet her there for a drink, told him she wouldn't take no for an answer and he really did not want her to come get him.

Paulo walked in a few minutes later and looked around. After finding Anna at a corner table he walked over and sat down. "What's up?" He asked.

"Sit." Anna said, sliding his chair out with her foot. "You are to drink and be merry cause I need it right now." She said, then gave him a look that meant, do as I say and don't argue. "What's been happening in your department, deputy dog?" She asked, then gave a hand gesture, signaling a round of drinks.

"Nothing that I can talk about," Paulo said. "You know Intel... we hide everything from you till it's to late. And then there are two possibilities. One, everything works out great, two, we all die. How about you?"

"Relax, Paulo... not cracking the safe on state secrets.. just asked how your day was... now would you pick up that drink and relax, or I'm going to ask Vivianna for a funnel and pour it down your throat myself." Anna stated, then took a drink.

"I have a dinner in a few hours, I can't drink to much," Paulo admitted as he picked up the drink. "What is up? I usually don't see you like this, and no I am not going to read your mind to get the answer. Though, you are yelling your thoughts very loud, and in telepath in the system can hear you."

Anna looked at him with a slight grin. "Then tell me what my thoughts are telling you right now, lil' brother." She said, then looked at him with a whimsical smile.

"I told you I am not going to read you, just said that as I am having to work a little harder to keep them out," Paulo replied taking a sip of his drink.

Anna took another drink. "How's the quest going to find you a girlfriend?" Anna asked, as she crossed her legs. "I know a few people that might be interested, if I can't find you a girl, damn sure I can find you a man." Anna said then grinned, making a joke.

Paulo smirked. "It's going," he said taking another sip of his drink.

"Getting info out of you is worse then having teeth fixed." Anna said then sighed.

"I am an Intel officer, we are trained like that," he said with a grin. "What is on your mind? Your fidget a lot."

"I'm bored." Anna said, then frowned. "And I don't fidget... I waste time uncollected and I hate it." Anna clarified.

"Ah, your just board," Paulo corrected himself. "And to go over the time you call your little brother to make fun of him and drill him for information?"

Anna looked at him as if he had just sucked on a lemon. "What are you rambling on about? What are you talking about, drilling you for information? I just asked how your day was and if you were seeing anyone... can't a sister ask that, or is there some sibling rules I need to download a copy of?" Anna asked.

"It's okay," Paulo said, "nevermind." There was something on his sister's mind. He didn't want to open his mind up to read her, as he still wasn't cofterable with reading thoughts or picking them up for that matter.

Taking a drink from her glass, she then looked at him. "This is turning out into a good idea I had." She mumbled and then sat her drink down. "You aren't saying anything cause, cause I have no idea why and now I'm on edge cause your on edge and now I'm ready to snap... all I need is Nara to show up and smirk and I'd go off." Anna said, sulkingly.

"I'm sorry," Paulo said. "I just wasn't expecting to get a call and say come drink with me unless there was something wrong before hand," he said. "And you know me, I am a person of little words."

"I'm sorry... after my ride in the holodeck Nara and I had another spat and... and it's all just taxing on my last nerve." Anna said, then took a deep breath and sighed, trying to clear her mind of all this.

"See, was that so hard?" Paulo said as he waved teh waiter over to get another round of drinks.

Anna looked back to him. "She drives me up the damn wall. I'm not sure she's doing it on purpose or it's just part of her crused DNA. She projects herself to be THE shit. I swear, Paulo, if she smirks around me one more time.. I'm going to slap her so hard Allas Tris, her telepathic mother, will feel it." Anna stated, quietly.

Paulo let out a laugh as the next round of drinks came. "That should be good," he said as he let out another one. "But please, do it OFF duty," he said with a smile.

"Thank you." Anna said, toward the waiter. She then picked up her drink. "I can promise nothing." She said, then sipped her drink.

"Then outside of engineering? I don't want the sonic boom of your slap to hit the warp core and cause the ship to blow up in my face!"

"Point taken.." Anna said, then smiled slightly. "I'm sorry, for snapping at you." She said, then patted his hand which was laying on the table.

"It's okay," he said reasuringly.

"Good.. cause I'd hate to slap you to." She said, then grinned.

Paulo let out a laugh. "Your my sister, I am here when you need me. What are younger brothers for?"

"To pester, make fun of and to wear dresses while I hem them?" Anna asked, then smiled. "My older brothers always treated me different, protect me. Good having a brother that I can dominate." She said then grinned once more, before getting a sip from her glass.

Paulo smiled. "Glad to be of service," he siad with a nod.

"Now about you... tell me.. interested in anyone, I can help you." She said, moving her chair over to his side so she could survey the room, as if looking for a date for her brother. "Oh say, what about girl at the bar..." Anna said, holding her brother's hand. "I'll go over and talk to her if you want me to." Anna said.

"No, it's okay," Paulo said. "I have it all under control." What was it about older sibilings trying to get their younger ones dates.

"No.. I insist." Anna said, getting up and walking toward the bar. Walking up to the girl, Anna and then the girl looked back as Anna gestured back to her brother. Anna then turned back to talk to the girl, before both started walking over toward the table.

'O god,' Paulo said to himself as he watched them come over and sit down. "Hello."

"Hello." The blond haired young woman said.

"Paulo, this is Jerrica... Jerrica.. my brother, Paulo." Anna said, as she moved. "Have a seat." She said, making sure Jerrica sat by her brother.

"Nice to meet you," he said as he kicked his sister as she sat back doiwn.

Anna frowned. ~This is the thanks I get.~ She said to herself, rubbing her leg. "Jerrica works in the aboretum." Anna said. "My brother is a Intelligence officer."

Jerrica smiled. "Oh my, that sound cool. You're the first one I've met that is in Intelligence." She said.

"They don't let us out to often," he said. "So much of our work is classified that they don't want to risk it getting out in the open," he said as he typed something on a PADD for future reference.

"Must mean your good with secrets... that's something I like in a man." Jerrica said then crossed her legs toward Paulo. "So, do you have a girlfriend?" The blond woman asked.

"No.. he doesn't." Anna interjected, then kicked Paulo, her way of telling him to ask her out.

Paulo groaned as the leg hit. "Not at the momeny. As I said SFI dosn't let us out much, so I really don't have time for one right now," he said. He really didn't want to ask her out. She seemed nice enough, he just didn't want anything to happen, especially witht he dinner with Cora just around the corner

"Oh.. I see." Jerrica said. "I guess I'll let you talk with your sister.. it was nice to meet you." she said, then stood up and nodded at Anna before turning to walk away.

Anna reached over and swatted Paulo upside the head. "Do you have shit for brains.. she liked you." She said shaking her head. "You really need to get out of the office some, Paulo.. cause it's making you turn into a dipshit." Anna said, then looked at him.

"I didn't want to go out with her," Paulo returned. "I did say I had a dinner in a few hours, you just enver asked with who or about what." He was a little mad now. He didn't care what her reasons where for trying to get him a girlfriend, in truth he was happy the way things where. And who knew, the dinner with Cora could lead to something and he wanted to keep that door open.

"The way you keep acting, what is the use in me asking you anything. You keep thinking I'm trying to crack into secret fault or something..." Anna said standing up. "Let me just ease your mind, Paulo... I'm a memeber of Starfleet Corp of Engineers, I'm also Lieutenant Commander... there is always another secret that is bigger then the one you think you know... cause you only know what someone deems you able to know." Anna said, then finished her drink. "I'm going home and get something real to drink."

"How about you ask, instead of assuming I am going to tell you next time," he said. Sometimes she made him so mad. Before she could say anything he was up and out the door.

Tapping her commbadge. "O'Shea to DiMillo.... how about you just give me some credit and talk to me instead of shutting me out.." She said, then closed the channel and slipped her combadge back into her pocket and headed home, having had enough of this day.

He didn't reply. He knew that she would have put the commbadge away after that, and he really didn't want to talk to her anymore. He would send her a letter later.... maybe.

"A Crack in the Armor" (backposted)

Ensign Xavier Smith, Science Officer
2nd Lieutenant Branwen London, Marine Staff Psychologist

Guest appearance by Lieutenant Katherine Holmes, Trauma Counseling (NPC)

Marine Staff Psychologist's Office, USS Galaxy

Backposted, 1 hour before 2nd Lt. London's meeting with 1st Lieutenant Baile

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

"Well, that wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," Xavier thought to himself as he left 8-ball's office. Xavier's next task was to go to the counseling center and set a schedule for his sessions. While walking to counseling, Xavier felt slightly nervous about meeting his new counselor. "Why should I be nervous?", Xavier mused, "I only spent the last 7 years around counselors. It's just same thing different day."

Xavier walked into the counseling center and was greeted by one of the counselors on duty, "Hello, I'm Lieutenant Holmes, are you new here?" "Yes I am Lieutenant," Xavier replied, "Ensign Xavier Smith reporting as ordered to setup a session schedule."

"Ah yes, we've been waiting for you Ensign," she said with a smile. "You need to report to Lieutenant Branwen London for counseling. She is a Marine Psychologist, and is helping us with overflow due to the recent events on the Galaxy."

"Understood Lieutenant, thank you," Xavier said as he quickly turned and walked to the turboshaft. "This should prove interesting," Xavier said to himself as he got on the lift. The lift came to a stop and Xavier began to walk toward the Marine department offices.

Xavier pressed the chime on Lieutenant London's door, and stepped in as it opened. Inside, Xavier saw what was certainly not the stereotypical Marine. "Wow, what a cutie," Xavier said to himself in his mind while slightly concerned as he wondered if he had merely thought that or said it.

"Please come in." Branwen said in her warm Welsh voice as she smiled at him. "Welcome on board the Galaxy, Xavier. Please have a seat, can I get you anything to drink?"

Xavier sat down, "Thank you Lieutenant, I'll have a cup of coffee, black." On the outside Xavier kept up his cold facade. On the inside he was incredibly nervous. He was always this way around a woman he found attractive. "Don't make yourself look like an idiot," Xavier said to himself in the same way a
father would sternly correct his child.

"Here you go." She said a little later handing him the coffee. "You settling in, Xavier?"

Xavier took a sip of the coffee, "Yes, I think so. This ship is quite a bit different than the last time I was on a Galaxy class ship."

"That was seven years ago?" She said gently. "What changed?"

"Actually, it was about 15 years ago." Xavier began to stare into blank space as memories began to flood back to him. "An old friend of my parents' gave me a tour of the Enterprise-D when it returned to Earth after the Battle of Wolf 359."

Xavier took a sip of coffee and directed his eyes back on Branwen. "Childhood memories have a way of making everything seem bigger. I suppose the ship just seems smaller than I remember. Well, that and Galaxy class ships didn't have that massive phaser cannon back then."

She smiled. "I have read your record, Xavier. And I will not blame you if you are sick and tired of shrinks after all these years. So tell me, what do you need for me to support you getting back to work?"

Xavier was quite surprised by how Branwen had refered to herself as a shrink. She didn't seem like the other counselors that he had worked with in the past. Then again, they had barely spoken. She had plenty of time to prove herself to be like those others.

"All I need is for you to make yourself available should I have need to talk, or if any problems arise from a deterioration in my mental state," Xavier stated. Xavier knew how to play the game. Say something that sounds like what they want to hear, and these sessions end up being short and sweet. It was best to keep things cordial between he and this counselor. No need to lock horns unless she attempts to step into his personal neutral zone. Besides, he was perfectly sane now. Depression can be managed with medication. These counseling sessions would basically be a waste of time.

Branwen looked at him. "I know you want to lead a normal life now. And I respect that. But you have been in a facility for a long time, so I hope you don't see me as the enemy. Xavier promise me as an officer that you will come to me when you need it.
Don't be a hero, or wait too long. We both want you to succeed."

Xavier looked Branwen directly in her eyes, "You have my word as an officer Lieutenant." "If you will pardon me Lieutenant, I need to get settled into my quarters," Xavier said as he rose from his seat.

"Just one second." Branwen stopped him. "For now I would like to meet you once a week to see how you are getting on. That doesn't have to be in my office if it's difficult for you. We could just chat in the mess hall. I just want to keep an eye on how you are settling in."

"Certainly Lieutenant, I'd love to meet with you away from your office.....", Xavier froze as the words came out of his mouth. "I mean, for counseling. Why else would I meet with you outside of your office?" "Damn it Xavier, you are an idiot, you know that"?, he thought to himself, embarassed and frustrated with himself.

Branwen could just keep from chuckling. "I have no idea. How about Friday at 7, you pick a place you feel comfortable."

"Would Ten Forward be acceptable?", Xavier asked, obviously blushing from embarassment.

"Absolutely," She said, "and if you have any problems before then, don't hesitate to call me, Xavier." She smiled.

"Of course Lieutenant," Xavier said, I won't hesitate to call you....if problems arise I mean....if you'll pardon me Lieutenant, I really must be going."
Xavier's face was even redder than before. "I've got to get the hell ouf of here before I make an even bigger fool out of myself," Xavier thought. "I will see you at 7 on Friday at Ten Forward."

Xavier briskly walked out of Branwen's office, and got on the turbolift. "What the hell is wrong with me?", Xavier asked himself aloud on the turbolift as it traveled to his destination.

She watched him go. Nice boy who had had a very tough time. She really hoped he would pull through and be able to build a normal life again.

"The Two Way Street" - Part 1

Captain Cass Henderson
Commander, USS Galaxy

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer, USS Galaxy

****

Ten Forward, Deck 10, USS Galaxy

Still smarting from her recent conversation with the new XO, Kimberly found herself wandering the halls of the Galaxy a little aimlessly. For years now she had managed to avoid anything closely resembling a fight, brawl or even a scuffle. Yet here was this... this... Klingon, insisting she prove she was capable of fighting if need be. ~Sure!~ she thought, ~like that's going to happen!~ If a fight broke out the last thing she'd be doing would be fighting. ~Typical Klingon, can't consider the possibility that any view point other than his own has any validity!~

Walking onto a turbolift she thought for a moment as to where to go, ignoring the computer's warnings about holding up the system, deciding eventually she directed the lift to deck ten. Unconsciously smoothing down the front of the velvety light gray dress she wore, a habit she didn't even realize she was doing, she folded her arms in its copious sleeves and thought while she traveled. She'd have to do the phaser range work soon - not a hard task. Her aim was always pretty fair, but it was the hand to hand that concerned her. Physical violence was unappealing at the best of times, even in practice.

Getting off the lift at deck ten she ambled toward the lounge. Entering the large room she walked to the bar and caught the attention of a waiter. Ordering a large glass of wine she received it with a smile and looked around to see who was present.

A dark haired man in a smoking jacket was sitting at the bar, talking to a bald headed enlisted man in the uniform of a weapons gunnery mate. The bald man was getting up to leave, and as he did, the dark haired man turned enough for Kimberly to recognize him. To her surprise, it was Captain Henderson - in his civvies.

~Why is the XO... Captain!~ she reminded herself ~talking to a crewman?~ She watched as the gunnery mate departed with a crisp salute. Henderson turned back to the bar and ordered another of whatever he was drinking. Seeing no one else approach the Captain she wandered over. "Captain," she greeted him neutrally.

Cass turned around at the sound of her voice, leaving his glass on the bar. He had been having a drink with Senior Chief Dorningham, but the career enlisted gunner had gone home to the wife and kids. He had known Dorningham for several years, and each time he talked about his family, there was a small part of Cass that envied him.

He was surprised to find that the feminine voice that had drawn his attention was possessed by Doctor Burton. After their argument in the shuttlebay the day before he had become captain, he was surprised to see her approach him. Perhaps the idealist had come to her senses?

"I'm off duty, Doctor. You can call me Cass," he said, standing up from his stool to greet her. The doctor was a striking young woman, and her mismatched eyes gave her an appearance of mystery. She was easy on the eyes, if infuriating.

Nodding in reply, she remained standing, "Thank you," she acknowledged, "I believe I owe you an apology, Sir. Personally, I still do not agree with your order, but I should apologize for my stubbornness. I'm quite passionate about my beliefs as you've no doubt realized," she said, sipping her wine.

"Apology readily accepted. Beliefs wouldn't be important important if we weren't passionate about them," Cass nodded, retrieving his glass of mead with one hand. "I'm sorry that our first meeting had to be a confrontation. I certainly don't like to go about making life hard for my senior officers. Do you mind if I call you Kim?"

"Kimberly, please," she asked, "I'm still debating on whether or not to drop my shuttle off at the next Starbase for my brother to pick up. Ensign Ashby wants to rework the whole power system for his weapon systems," she said with some disgust, "but he assures me he can do it and leave everything else intact and operating as is once he has a little time. Ensign Fellbaum, though, needs to relax if I may say so, Sir."

"Oh? She's always seemed pretty... bubbly, for lack of a better word," Cass replied, taking a sip of his mead. He wasn't too surprised by Burton's wavering on the decision to keep her shuttle onboard. He had expected her to send it home at the first opportunity. If he were a devoted pacifist, he probably would have.

"I think it was the thought of a complaint about the XO, who's now the Captain, crossing her desk. I think she just likes you more than she does me, Sir," Kimberly added with a raised eyebrow, "I take it you've heard about Commander Kol's chat with me as well?" She decided it was best to get it all out of the way as soon as possible.

Thinking about what she'd said, she added "I didn't mean to imply that Fellbaum didn't deal with my complaint fairly, Sir. She explained things clearly and did a thorough brief for me. I have to admit though to feeling a little unlucky. I log a grievance against a decision made by the XO and I turn around and he's the Captain deciding on the complaint. Not exactly what you'd call fortuitous." She admitted, "Fellbaum mentioned I could take it further if I wanted. I thought I should let you know I haven't decided yet."

Cass stifled a laugh. "Thank you. I can understand your frustration. My promotion wasn't very timely for you. I'm glad Ensign Fellbaum has given you good council, but I think your time would probably be better spent here. From my own experiences with JAG, they'll probably just refer you back to me."

Nodding, she replied, "No offense, Sir, but I'll still be asking the Ensign, though it could well just end up with my shuttle going home. But I'm going to put a hold on that until I've made a definite decision. May I ask though, how did Commander Kol end up here?" She asked, sounding very frustrated at the mere thought.

The look of exasperation and worry was etched across her features, marring her pretty face. Cass felt a pang of sympathy for her. In a perfect world, he would have agreed with everything she was saying. Instead he often thought how nice it must be to have such absolute belief. "This really hasn't been your best week, has it Kimberly? The Arizona is undergoing a routine barium sweep, followed by extensive repairs. She'll be out of service for a few months. I needed somebody to sit shotgun for me, and nobody here was qualified. Kol and I share a mutual friend in Major Rex, so he recommended him to me."

"Remind me to make Major Rex's next physical a very interesting one," she muttered softly to herself, having interesting thoughts of what she could do to the man with a PADD, a can of surgical lubricant and a protoplaser. "No, Sir, it hasn't been a good week," she agreed, "And I have to be honest, I agreed to this transfer in the belief I was going to be serving on an explorer, not a warship. This isn't the duty assignment I was expecting, Sir, and the constant fixation on combat readiness that's been forced down my throat lately is not what I'm here for."

The thought of his friend having to submit to probing in places better left to the imagination brought an infectious grin to Cass' face. Of course, knowing Corran's reputation, he just might be into that. "Well, we're not really a warship," he said, though he couldn't help thinking of how many times they'd been forced to fight in the last year alone. "Kimberly, what had you heard about this ship before you put in for transfer?"

"From what I'd heard, Sir, the primary mission was exploration, which is what I thought Starfleet's primary mission was," she admitted. "There seems to be far too much focus on violence and preparation for some war sometimes; a war which everyone just seems to want to prepare for, not try to avoid," she said glumly.

"We are preparing for war, Kimberly. You were at Havras, on the Arizona with 12th Fleet," Cass stated. He'd looked up her personnel jacket after their previous conversation. "Things like that aren't isolated incidents - they point to a much larger problem. None of the governments that we fought at Havras want to open real diplomatic relations - none of them want to avoid it. Aval'thot Gor wants territory for the Breen. The Hydrans are insulted by our alliance with the Rihannsu. The T'Kith'Kin have a completely alien mindset that we're only beginning to understand. Peace is a two way street that they're not on."

"Yes, Sir, I was at Havras," she replied with distaste, "and Kol recommended me for a combat decoration after." She continued with even more distaste, "And I was there when the Yanek stuck their heads out of their nebula, but I am a firm believer in looking for alternatives, Sir."

"As am I," Cass replied, taking another sip of his mead. The warmth of the drink filled him. "War should never be anything other than a last resort. I would like nothing more than to wake up tomorrow and find that our diplomats have been successful, and the other governments want to co-exist peacefully. And maybe, if we stave off war for long enough, that can happen. But until then, we have to be ready to defend ourselves. The Federation, great as it is, isn't invincible, and we could well lose the coming conflict. Especially with our allies on ch'Rihan in disarray."

Kimberly shook her head. "I'm sorry, Sir, but this isn't what I expected, nor what I was hoping for coming here," she admitted, sipping her own drink she put it aside suddenly. "I guess I have a choice to make, really. I can leave, find some medical facility somewhere that'll accept my personal quirks, or stay and do my best not to get too caught up in the combat preparations."

"Unfortunately, that's more or less true. And you don't have to be so formal. We're off duty," Cass sighed. The border wasn't the best place for explorers right now. Though there were sill many secrets to be discovered in the border sectors, defending the people who lived there had become Starfleet's primary duty. Cass appreciated that, considering himself to be a protector by nature. "I hope you'll stay, though. More likely than not there'll be a lot of people here soon who will need you to help them."

"As a doctor or a counselor?" she asked, "I'm honestly not sure which is in more need here."

Taking a deep breath, she picked up her glass again and took a sip, "Well, I guess unless I want to be kicked off the ship by the ap... new XO," she corrected herself. Off duty they may be but she was still discussing a superior officer, "I should make arrangements to demonstrate skills I'll never need to use."

"Perhaps as both," Cass suggested. A soldier could only do so much in wartime without the support of the other departments - especially the medical ones. "Commander Kol told me that you need to re-certify on basic phaser and hand to hand. If you'd like, I can help you with the hand to hand part. I'm a decent enough shot, but I couldn't teach it."

Using a phaser was too intuitive for him to be an effective teacher, he'd long ago realized while trying to prepare Rima for the same exam. The problem wasn't that he didn't know how to aim, but that he was just naturally good with angles, so it came too easily. It was part of the reason he was a good tactician.

Biting her lip she hesitated then, after a few moments silence, nodded. She still recalled most of what she'd been taught years back at the Academy, but save that one time hadn't really put it to use. Nor did she have the inclination to do so ever again, "Since it's that or be relieved of duty I guess I should say yes," she decided, "I should warn you, I'm rusty, and likely never going to actually use hand to hand at any time."

"Then we'll make sure that you can beat the computer and be done with it," he said. It wasn't the decision he would have made, but it made sense for her. Hopefully, she'd never have to put it into practice again. "After that, it'll just be an unpleasant memory until the next time."

Looking down at the half drank glass she put it down and pushed it away. "When are you free, Sir?" she asked, clearly not enthusiastic but ready to give it a try.

"My schedule is available through the ship's computer for everyone to use. Reserve a time in the holodeck that works for both of us, send me a message letting me know when, and I'll show up."

"Aye, Sir, probably in a day or so." Reaching behind the bar she rooted around for a PADD. After finding one she called up the Captain's schedule and made a booking on his schedule and with a holodeck. She added a note to the XO's file as she did, so he'd not be chasing her about it. "This work for you?" she asked.

"Yeah," Cass said, taking a quick glance at what she'd chosen. It was a good time, before dinner. Sparring on a full stomach was a generally accepted bad idea. "That works fine for me."

Just nodding, she picked up her glass again and looked at it before taking another sip. "What's the word on Captain M'Kantu?" she asked suddenly.

Cassius couldn't help but laugh. "So eager to be rid of me? I honestly don't know, and I doubt we'll know for some time. He called me the other night to check in, and it sounds like there hasn't been much progress."

Kimberly smiled in return "No, Sir, not eager to be rid of you, just curious. I barely got to meet him before he was called away is all..." Sliding away her unfinished glass, Kimberly stepped away from the bar. "Until tomorrow," she said simply.

"Until tomorrow, then," Cass agreed, downing the last of his mead. "And until then, don't let life discourage you. Times are tough, but you've obviously got the resolve to make it through."

Raising an eyebrow she opened her mouth for moment as if to answer, then simply shrugged, turned and left.

"Requesting a Transfer"

Captain Cassius Henderson,
Commanding Officer, USS Galaxy
Clandestine Operations Handler, Hydran Sector

Ensign Paulo DiMillo
Intelligence Officer, USS Galaxy

****

Captain's Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Galaxy-A

Paulo walked onto the bridge of the starship Galaxy. This wasn't a place he had come to many times, mainly cause he never needed to. Being an Intelligence Officer did have its down sides, one of them being that they never got out into the real world... well... except for the occasional situations, like the one Paulo had gotten himself into recently.

That is why he was hear now. He needed to speak with the Captain to get a department transfer. He didn't know how Cora would take it, but if they wanted to go further he could no longer be serving directly under her. He took a breath and hit the chime to let the Captain know he was there.

"Come in, Mister DiMillo," Captain Henderson called, sitting behind the ready room desk. Now that the intelligence team was away, he had put Captain M'Kantu's chair into storage, and replaced it with the one from his office - currently occupied by Commander Kol. The amount of work he'd gotten done since then had tripled.

Cass sat up as the intelligence officer entered the room, pushing aside the report he'd been reading. Motioning to the replicator, he asked, "Would you like something to drink?"

Paulo nodded as he walked in. "Yes sir, a raktajino would be nice."

Cass stood up and walked over to the replicator to place their order. A pair of the Klingon coffee drinks appeared on the shelf, and he brought them back over to the desk. "Good choice. It's been few years since I had a raktajino. It really is a shame that caffeine losses it's potency as your body adjusts."

"Yes it is sir. I drank so many going through the Academy my body doesn't notice as it goes in," Paulo said with a small smile.

"Me too," Cass grinned, nodding. It was part of the Starfleet experience, such as it was. "Now then, what can I help you with?"

Paulo took a sip of the drink and nodded. "I am requesting a transfer to a different department," Paulo finally said.

"That's interesting, given that Starfleet Intelligence is going out on a limb to keep you in the first place," Cassius said, curiously. He placed his raktajino back on the table. "Why do you want a transfer?"

Paulo had really hopped that the Co... Captain wouldn't ask that question, but now that it was asked he had no choice. "I no longer think I can effectively do my job as..." Paulo paused a few seconds. "Lieutenant Dobryin and I have become involved. It isn't fair to her to stay under her direct command if we both wish to continue with this relationship."

"And it's against regulations. Interesting. And they say that spys are heartless," Cassius chuckled. Of course, he knew it wasn't true. DiMillo knew about his 'other life' as a Sector Handler for SFI's Clandestine Operations Directorate, so the joke wouldn't be lost on him. "Have you contacted Starfleet Intelligence?"

"No, not yet," Paulo said. "I was waiting till after I spoke with you, as I know you still have some pull. Also, you're the one who ordered the investigation into Saul Bental after the Trill incident, and so I also thought you should be the first to know as this transfer would disrupt that investigation as I have been the primary person on it."

"Well, I can tell you that there's little intelligence work to be done outside of Cora's department," Cass replied, his voice carefully neutral. There were certain consequences to leaving SFI, that Paulo would have to face. "And I assume you aren't eager to leave SFI, since the requisite mental wipes and blocks would likely remove your memories of Cora. Did you have something else in mind?"

"Vanguard Squadron, sir," Paulo replied. "They are lacking an experienced Intelligence Officer."

Cass nodded, and brought up the manifest on M'Kantu's desk terminal. Assigning Intelligence Liaisons to subordinate commands wasn't standard policy, but Vanguard Squadron also needed an AWACS officer. He logged the transfer and shut down the manifest. "How's your piloting, Mister DiMillo?"

"It could do with some work, but I can pilot well enough," Paulo replied with a puzzled look on his face.

"Good. Vanguard Squadron needs somebody to serve on their AWACS runabout. That's Aerospace Warning And Control System," Cass explained. "You'll be required, during combat, to co-pilot the runabout with whoever is on duty there, and to relay orders from the Ensign T'Liera, the tactical officer in charge of fighter control, as well as keep an eye on the entire squadron and warn them if they're getting into trouble. Major Rex will give you a more thorough briefing on those duties. Acceptable?"

Paulo nodded. "Yes sir. I guess that Major Rex will make me go through some training," Paulo said. He wasn't looking foward to that part, but the Major held Vanguard to a high standard and Paulo would have to work to get there. "I do have a question, about the Bental case."

"Well, it'll be out of your jurisdiction as soon as the transfer is complete," Cass replied. From the moment Paulo had entered the room, he'd been pretty sure that this would come up. "But ask away."

"Well, who will take over? I am not a very trusting person who it comes to my Intel notes, and I wouldn't want to hand them over to just anyone." Paulo had a feeling it would fall outside, but it was a price he would have to pay.

"That decision falls to Lieutenant Dobryin." Cass watched the expression of the junior officer across from him, taking note of the feeling of dissappointment that veritably radiated from him. Perhaps Paulo had been on the case for too long anyway. "As for your assignment as Intelligence Liaison to Vanguard Squadron, I'll have to confirm it with Director Nyrandu. I doubt there will be any problem."

Paulo simply nodded.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mister DiMillo?"

"No sir," Paulo replied.

"Well then, you're dismissed. Report to Major Rex for your new assignment tomorrow morning. I'll have him informed by then," Cass stated, standing up to see Paulo to the door. As they reached the threshold, he paused. "Best wishes to you and Cora."

Paulo stopped, turned and nodded, before heading back out of the ready room.

OOC: And while I realize the aliens speak like the Prophets in a sense, with Punctuation and the like, I believe them to be more akin to the Vortigaunts for those gamers who have played Half-Life 2. I dunno, I just always liked the speaking style.

Side Story: "The Wandering Physician pt.1"

Location: Unknown

Something was wrong with the ship. He couldn't figure it out. He was a doctor, not some hydran engineer.

It was an older hydran design though, more mechanical than organic, unlike it's modern contemporaries. The Doctor was happy for this, easier to control.

The cockpit controlls were a littel confusing at first, but thankfully his UT still worked. Like a charm. When he found this ship on the Hydran occupied world, he had already been changed, but it seems more would be in store for him.

But more so than everything else, he was tired. In these parts, the was best to land and part instead of just drift i! n space, while you slept.

Things felt different all of a sudden, and a suitable M-Class world revealed itself to him. A few quick scans revealed very few major settlements. He would need to be careful not to be discovered. His commission still techinically remained active. He immediately approached, still watching his scanners for anything odd. With nothing to impede him, he entered the atmosphere and searched for a place to land.

A small out of the way alpine clearing seemed to show itself to him. A paranoid thought entered his mind. "Am I being led here?" It seemed unlikely, and considering it, he agreed. He landed and he prepared to take a quick look around before proceeding to sleep.

Why had he begun this journey? Neccesity could be assumed. When he regain conciousness, his ship was proceeding to leave. He had only a little time to merely send his last message. But the reason was knowledge. There were many foreign medical techniques that could be learned! and brought home for adaptation, and he had done so, amoung subjugated races of the Hydrans and elsewhere. He had brought his own medical prowess to early warp races, careful not to interfere with those not quite ready. Unfortunately, he still did. A count of 32 times in his head. No matter, that would be dealt with when he came home.

He walked outside of his ship, sniffinG the air. It seemed safe. He seemed to be getting better at reading the hydran ship's sensors. He remembered the last time he did that wrong.

A rustle in the bushes immediately made him draw his weapon, an old starfleet phaser he found on the planet he started on. Surprisingly it still had a considerable charge, with several rechargeble external batteries. Whoever had it last was ready for a war.

The rustling continued and he quickly found himself surrounded by a large number of Arachnoid life forms. Their Abdomens were small and extend outward from a large segmented thorax no larger t! han a human torso. From the lower half of the thorax, two spindly arachnid legs extended outward from each side and held it aloft easily. Four arms, two on each side, extended from the upper thorax and easily resembled humanoid arms with an arachnid touch. The entire body was covered in a tough looking leathery carapace, and the heard was somewhat humanoid looking, a tapered snout pointing downward with four fangs sticking out of it. The eyes, eight of them, four on each side with two in the center larger than the rest, glowed a baleful amber. Though feral in appearance, the aliens exuded a sense of civilization, as well as an incredible intelligence behind thier frightening eyes.

Almost immediately, Klaus felt a thousand tiny fingers in his mind, running through it like fingers in a patch of grass. He could feel them touching memory after memory, thought after thought. He dropped his weapon in horror. They didn't seem malicious, but incredibly rude intrusion uns! ettled him.

Then it stopped. And one of them approached. It reformed it's mouth slightly, and bizarrely enough, spoke English with perfect clarity. "This is the Klaus Fienberg. The Fienberg has come to learn, has he not?"

Klaus immediately became enraged at the intrusion. Another one in the background spoke. "The Fienberg is displeased. Our way was rude to him."

Another voice, which sounded the same as the rest spoke. "The Fienberg must understand that it is our way. The Fienberg's Federation and Starfleet prohibit him from interfering with our culture, and he is thus subject to our laws. Our laws require such a probing of outsiders like The Fienberg."

Klaus calmed down. This was true, he didn't need to have 33 prime directive violations. "I understand. You obviously know my name, I must know yours now? That is if you wish to divulge that?"

The lead one spoke, his amber eyes studying Klaus. "The Fienberg shall know us as the "Tutors." Our tru! e name is unpronouncible by the Fienberg."

A thought came across Klaus, he waited for them to answer him, but they must not have been watching his mind.

Intuition was their tool now. "The Fienberg suspects that we are watching his mind. We respect the Fienberg's privacy after the probing." 'Like there was anything left to hide.' "Please pose your question verbally."

Klaus nodded. "You are an alien race to me, unlike most that I have met. You all appear to have the same voice, as if a single entity. Are you some sort of hive mind? Or just universally telepathic."

"The Fienberg poses an excellent question. The Fienberg will be an excellent pupil. We are Coterminous. Our mind is one, but also individual. Each has his own thoughts that contribute to the whole, but also the whole contributes to the individual. Perfect unity."

The looks in the eyes of all changed from the baleful amber, to a peaceful and benevolent silver. "The Fienberg must follow, his l! essons begin soon."

"What about my ship?"

The Lead spoke again. "The Fienberg's Vessel will be confiscated until such time as the Fienberg's lessons are complete."

The thought finally came to Klaus' mind. "What are you teaching me?"

"The Fienberg is a healer, we have seen this, time and time over, in his mind. We will teach you new ways to heal. Ways to enhance your abilities. But we will also teach you ways to defend, to prevent harm. Come. The Fienberg has much to see, much to learn. Much to face."

ooc- Meant to send this out first, before the transfer post. Part 2 will come out after the 3rd as Cami is on LOA.

"Dinner"

Lieutenant JG Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer
Ensign Paulo DiMillo, Intelligence Officer

*****

Cora had changed into something more casual for the dinner, still smiling at the prospect of enjoying a quiet conversation with Paulo. It was one large step towards allowing herself to feel somewhat human again. Allowing dinner to finish cooking while she set the table.

Paulo walked down the corridor in casual dress. He wore a simple black long sleeved shirt and black slacks. He didn't want to dress up to much, but he didn't want to come off as a slob either. He walked holding a bottle of Chateau Picard '65. It wasn't an old bottle, but it was a good year, and Paulo had been saving it for something special. He got to Cora's quarters and hit the chime.

"Enter," Cora called she was dressed in a dark blue-green outfit, flowing pants and a top to match. Way more feminine than her usual uniform. "Good evening, have a seat and make yourself feel at home. Dinner will be ready shortly."

Paulo smiled as he walked in. "What do you want me to do with the wine? It does need to chill a little."

"You can put it in the ice bucket on the counter," Cora replied.

Paulo looked over and saw it and smiled. He walked over to the bucket and put it in, and at the same time pored two cups of water. He took one for himself and took the other over to Cora. "You like thirsty," he said.

"Thank you," Cora took the glass with a smile, "Oh and I say we blame Intel if my cooking stinks."

Paulo grinned. "Sounds good, and I will alert medical, just in case," he said with a devilish grin.

"Watch it bub," Cora replied with an equally devilish smile.

Paulo laughed and went over and sat in one of the chairs. "Man, you department heads really do get everything better. Even the chairs are more comfortable."

Cora laughed, "And you know how much time I spend in here if its not sleeping or well I guess the best way to state it is recovering."

Paulo laughed. "That is one way to put it." He paused to look up at her. "So, what are you cookin over there?"

Taking a sip of her drink, "Secret family recipe. I hope you like beef."

"Sure do," Paulo smiled. "Want to share the recipe?" He knew he wasn't going to get it, but it was worth a try.

Cora just smiled at this point she hadn't given him a yes or a no. Their Conversation momentarily interrupted as dinner was ready. "The table is ready other than the food." She got up to grab that.

Paulo stood and moved over to the table, but didn't sit down. When Cora came back with the Beef and set it down, Paulo pulled the chair out for her and pushed it in and then walked over to the other side and sat down in his own chair. "Smells great."

"Thank you I hope you enjoy," Cora replied with a smile. "I didn't know what to make but this seemed like the most appropriate choice."

Paulo cut himself off some and took it over to his plate, before slicing off a small piece and sticking it into his mouth. "Great," Paulo said, "it tastes great."

With a smile she finished dishing her own plate then took a bite. "I'm glad it turned out well."

"Where did you learn to cook?" Paulo asked before taking another bite.

Cora just laughed unable to hide the smile that formed at his question, "Would it surprise you to know this is one of the things I can cook. It's not a field a consider myself an expert in but my mother taught me the basics."

Paulo let out a laugh. "Well, so far you can cook better then me," he then looked over, "almost forgot the wine," he said standing up and going over to it. He popped the cork off and walked back to the table, pouring Cora a class first, then himself, before sitting back down.

She accepted the glass then took a sip, "Thank you it goes nicely with this dish." It felt good just to be herself for a change whatever that happened to be now.

Paulo smiled as he took another bite. "Usually I am not a fan of wine, but sometimes it taste pretty good, especially when you have a good meal to go with it."

"Agreed," Cora replied as she looked at Paulo for a long moment. "I'm glad you accepted my invitation."

"I am glad I accepted," Paulo replied. The dinner continued as they talked about non-work related stuff, ranging from Paulo finding out he had a sister serving on this very ship, to what they both hope for in the future.

The dinner was over and Paulo was helping with cleanup. "That really was great," he told her again. He had said it a half a dozen times already, but it seemed like one of the things to say.

"Confidante"

Fleet Captain Elaithin Jii, CO, USS Miranda
Commander Karyn Dallas, Chief Counselor/SO, USS Galaxy

OOC: Takes place prior to "Sojourners" and "Return of the Squire"

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

Sickbay, USS Miranda Recovery Ward

The red haired woman crept into the Miranda's sickbay quietly and was pleased to see the focus of her attention was conscious. "What the hell, Jii? Every time I see you, you're flat on your back, and I don't mean that in a good way."

"You're early." he coughed, a genuine smile spreading across the Bajoran's features. "Give me five more minutes, and I'll have rolled over on my stomach."

Karyn Dallas chuckled and kissed the unblemished cheek of Elaithin Jii. "Well, now I know you're ok. You're cracking jokes. But you scared the hell out of me, Jii."

"I've been hearing that a lot lately." he replied. "When did the Galaxy make port?"

"Yesterday," Karyn replied. "I came as soon as I heard."

"Thanks." the Bajoran Captain replied. He and Karyn had known each other for nigh on nine years, ever since he'd reported for duty aboard that ship as a Security Officer. She'd been a Counselor then, too. They'd become friends, and remained so for along time, even in the four and a half years since he'd left the Galaxy, and become first officer of the Achilles, and then, only months later, Captain of the Miranda.

They'd been through a lot serving together, under Lee Price's command. Over the years they'd kept a semi-regular correspondence - she had even been one of the few people at his wedding, along with Jerri Wolfson, and Kent Peterson, Galaxy's former XO and now Captain of the Starship Sakharov.

"So how is it," he asked honestly, "That it's always me in the bio-bed, and not you? We should switch."

Karyn laughed. "No thanks. I work for a living."

"No, seriously," he continued, his joking tone still belying the serious nature of the topic. "I think you should get to be the one tortured by Romulans, or getting in fist-fights with Breen generals, or leading the away team to find the Captain, like back at lanjep. I could sit in an office and talk to people about their feelings. That sounds like a good switch."

Karyn pretended to swat him with her hand. "If you weren't already hurt, I'd slug you. I can still go Jarol on your ass, you know," Dallas teased, referring to her alter ego while undercover on Romulus. The truth was, she had taken quite the beating by Victor Krieghoff months ago. She hadn't told him or anyone else.

"Heh." he chuckled. "Fair enough."

Karyn pretended to swat him with her hand. "If you weren't already hurt, I'd slug you. I can still go Jarol on your ass, you know," Dallas teased, referring to her alter ego while undercover on Romulus. The truth was, she had taken quite the beating by Victor Krieghoff months ago. She hadn't told him or anyone else.

"Heh." he chuckled. "Fair enough."

"So are you going to tell me what the hell happened?" Karyn asked.

"Depends." he chuckled, wincing as he sat up some. There was still some pain in his lower back - to be expected, of course, since he'd just undergone a spinal replacement and reconstructive surgery on his abdomen.

Karyn folded her arms. "On what?"

"On whether or not you're going to want to put me in a padded room after I do." Jii chuckled. "If you do, I'm telling you up front - I want one with a view."

Dallas laughed. "That can be arranged. I have connections."

"Good to know." he replied with a completely deadpan expression. "Honestly, though. It was a temporal incident. The timeline was changed - a Reman killed Surak before he ever got famous."

Karyn scrunched up her nose. "I feel a headache coming."

"Always knew you were a smart lady." he observed, and continued with his explanation. "For whatever reason, Miranda made it through the time change intact. But there was no Federation anymore. The Romulans had never left Vulcan, and the Vulcan Empire controlled most of what we consider known space."

"As for how exactly we didn't get altered by the time change, I'm not sure. My Engineering folks have a couple of theories, two of which together seem to be it. But after we figured out these Vulcans weren't exactly a .. friendly sort of folks, we ended up hooking up with a group calling itself the Alliance. Rebels, obviously."

Karyn frowned. "Were others hurt?"

"No, that was just the start of things." he shook his head. "Karyn, to us, all of that happened four months ago. For that long, we we part of the rebellion, trying to topple a galactic empire, and try to figure out a way to restore the timeline. To do that, we ended up having to mount an attack on the most fortified planet in the Empire - Vulcan itself. We put everything on the line to get to the Guardian of Forever - you've heard of it?"

Karyn nodded. "Only the basics in the database."

His voice took over a hollower tone then, and he started with the things he'd only said to Jordan until now. "Jordan.. " he paused, clearing his throat. " Her team died. Then the Hazard Team, the Rogues, the Marines, even the Miranda - everyone died until it was just me, my chief engineer, and two others left."

Understanding dawned on her then. "And you remember all of it. Feeling that pain."

"Yeah, there's more on that later." he swallowed. "We made it through, back into the past - but there was one more person. And.. alternate of one of my own crew, but a dangerous psychopath. I.. delayed him, and Jerri was able to complete the mission. She restored the timeline."

"Delayed him how?" Karyn asked.

Jii fixed a stare on her. "Karyn, I had broken ribs, nose, a demolished hand and a sword run through my gut. Guess."

"So what you're saying is, you weren't especially effective," Karyn teased.

"Hey." he replied. "It worked, didn't it? Besides, I got that son of a bitch's eye."

"Yes, yes," Karyn said dismissively, "Violence makes me proud. But it still stings, doesn't it?"

"Oh, that was low." he chuckled. "Besides. We put an end to his entire universe, so I think we're even."

Karyn was silent for awhile, then answered, "It must be difficult to have witnessed all of those deaths."

"Yeah." he snorted, and put on a false cheer. "But no harm no foul, right? Aside from the memories, to everyone but Jerri and me, it never happened."

"I think I deserve the real deal, Jii. And you know exactly what I mean. Or shall I sique Ryley on you now?"

"No -" he started, then paused trying to figure out how best to put the next part into words. "It wasn't easy, and it still hurts like hell. I won't lie about that. But.."

"But?"

"Look, you know how I've never really been all that.. religious, right?"

"Yeah," Dallas replied. "But you still believe in the Prophets."

"Yeah, well I've got more reason to these days." he replied.

Dallas raised an eyebrow. "That's cryptic. Care to explain?"

"Here's the part that really sounds crazy." he replied. "And I've left it out of the official reports, so I'd take it as a kindness on your part if you didn't mention it to anyone."

"No problem," Dallas replied easily. Even though this wasn't an official session, Karyn treated most private conversations as if they were privileged.

"The Prophets spoke to me. Twice, now." the Bajoran admitted.

Karyn frowned. "Spoke to you? As in, a near death experience?"

"The second time, yeah." the Bajoran confirmed. He still wasn't entirely certain that it wasn't a .. fever dream of some kind, but the more he thought about it, the more it had been in keeping with the Prophets first message to him. "The first time it wasn't, though. The first time was when the Miranda was coming back from a four-month tour in the Gamma Quadrant, after we stopped Admiral Ramsey from starting a new war with the Dominion."

"You were conscious?"

"Fully." he nodded. "It was when we were coming through the wormhole."

Karyn smiled, still not sure what to make of all this. "Well, don't keep me in suspense. What did they say?"

"That there were a lot of Trials ahead, and that the path would not be easy, but that I had not yet strayed. I got the feeling - and damn if this doesn't sound strange - that they were trying to tell me they had faith in *me*. The second time, they wanted me to know that I - and my crew - wouldn't forget "The lessons learned" in the alternate timeline. By all rights, no one but me and Jerri should remember what happened. But everyone does - hell, there's even computer records. How can you have computer records of something that never happened?"

Dallas shrugged. "I suppose the Prophets work in mysterious ways. Though I have to wonder how much your own desires played a role. Perhaps you needed to be reassured as much as you were by the experience." "I think I'm more concerned by the fact that they think we're going to need the memories of four months of war."

"Maybe it's about using the lessons learned." Karyn replied.

"Maybe it is." he admitted.

Dallas grew thoughtful. "Have you considered the possibility that it's your own mind's way of making sure you don't forget the lessons learned?"

"Of course I have." he said, not a little bit irritated. "I'm not crazy, Karyn."

Dallas held up her hands in protest. "As someone who's done your evals more than once, I know that, Jii. All I'm saying is, does it matter what's at work or why it's so? Maybe the point is for you to take from it what you will and move on. I know this experience has frightened you, but you cannot live your life in fear of what may come."

"It's not what *may* come that frightens me, Karyn." he said quietly. "It's what I know *is* coming that does."

"You can't know for certain, Jii. I don't have to remind you that time travel can muck up what's 'supposed' to happen."

"There's some things you just know."

"I love you, Jii, you know I do, but even I know you're not omniscient. And even if you're right, what could you possibly do to stop things?"

He snorted derisively. "Figure that one out, let me know, will you?"

"That's exactly my point," Dallas replied. "Contrary to what you might think, you're only mortal. All you can do, all any of us can do, is take each day as it comes."

"I'm not mortal." Jii said in mock-seriousness. "I plan to live forever."

Karyn chuckled. "There are several medical experts who would beg to differ I'm sure. Let me know how that turns out, will you?"

"Absolutely."

"I'm just a comm away."

Backpost to just prior of leaving Deep Space 5.

"Blind Faith"

Captain Daren M'Kantu, Commanding Officer (Relieved)

Lieutenant (JG) Miramon Terrik, Chief Navigation Officer

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

The very idea that Starfleet would relieve the Galaxy of her Captain and put Commander Henderson in his place seemed both radical and unjustified, as far as Miramon was concerned. Certainly it was possible that the XO had been aiming to one day take the job of CO of the ship, but to have it done in this fashion seemed...well, incomprehensible. And the Bajoran doubted he was the only senior officer who thought so.

Were he a Vulcan, logic would have dictated that the Captain, being human, might want to talk to somebody about it. Okay, so he wasn't Vulcan, but the sentiment remained the same. Besides, even if the Captain wasn't inclined to talk about it, Miramon sure as hell felt like it. Not many of the senior officers had liked Olivier Proctor when she'd been aboard - she was arrogant, overbearing, and far too...stuck up for most of them. And, given recent events, it was almost certain she'd had a hand in this particular move. After all, what other reason would Starfleet have had to relieve their Captain of duty?

And so, as soon as he had time after hearing the news, Miramon had headed off to hunt down the Captain. Admittedly, the two of them hadn't actually had a casual conversation (at least as far as he could remember), so now was as good a time as any. He just hoped the M'Kantu wasn't in a particularly bad mood - humans were known for their quick changes in mood, even moreso than Bajorans. And if ever the man was reinstated, having an argument or bugging him at a time like this would sure not serve as a good career move.

Standing outside the man's quarters, he kept reaching for the chime, and quickly stopping short. Maybe the Captain was asleep? That was possible. And everybody tended to be cranky when woken up from a pleasant sleep. But then, who would sleep after being relieved of their post? Sure, he'd be up and awake. But then maybe he was busy eating dinner or running over some reports? Or, maybe worse, maybe he just didn't want to be bothered, period.

The Bajoran stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath and quickly running over his options. Inevitably there was only one conclusion.

"Ah, to hell with it."

He pressed the button, and waited patiently for the expected angry face to appear at the door.

It was ironic that upon the buzzer sounding at his door, Daren M'Kantu had stepped into the perimeter of the sensor that determined if an exit was needed. When the door opened, he was surprised to find the Galaxy's Chief Conn standing in his doorway.

"Can I help you, Lieutenant?" Tucking his satchel under the arm, he eased himself out of his quarters and sealed the door shut. He'd been on his way off the ship after having transferred command to his former XO, only to find he had missed several items from his quarters. It wasn't in his nature to be anything but organized, but neglecting personal items and documents had given him pause for thought. Perhaps it was stress? Arching his eyebrows at the thought of having traveled with an overbearing and immature Admiral not giving him stress was about as realistic as a mushroom growing on his forehead in a vacuum.

"Actually, sir, I was wondering the same regarding you." Miramon noted with a slightly puzzled expression. "Taking a vacation, perhaps?"

"Well," nodding his head as he held back from heading off to the shuttle bay for departure. He wanted to avoid the questions he knew were sure to assail him if her were to leave through the docking ports. "I could use a pilot to take me across to the station. Are you off-duty and available?"

"Yes sir. Although, if I may ask, why would you be headed to the station? You're not planning on meeting with Admiral Proctor again? Last time I checked, most of the senior officers were glad to see the back of her, and respectfully, it didn't look like you had any objection to that either."

Thus far he was trying to avoid the whole thing about the Captain having been relieved of command. If M'Kantu wanted to talk about it, he'd no doubt say so, but in the meantime, the Bajoran was hardly going to let the man walk off his own ship without trying to persuade him otherwise.After all, without his command, the human still held the rank of Captain, and any and all Starfleet personnel were permitted aboard the ship - and until security hauled him off the ship, surely he didn't have to leave? Or maybe this was just his way of demonstrating that he was resigned to his fate.

Still, didn't sound like the person he knew as his CO.

"I've been temporarily re-assigned to Deep Space Five." After locking up his quarters, he paused in thought, and then moved forward down the corridor, with Terrik following close behind. Personnel passed, some nodding, others with prolonged gazes, which he waved off before they could ask questions.

"In other words, Starfleet's not planning on giving you back your command any time soon. Not that I think there really needs to be an investigation beforehand. This is just Admiral Proctor playing petulant. She seems to do that a lot, if you'll forgive me for saying so." Miramon's particular experiences of the Admiral hadn't left what you would call a good impression - but certainly a lasting one. The fact that he was speaking so liberally of a superior officer to, incidentally, another superior officer was just indicative of how riled up Proctor had most of the senior officers for the moment.

"Lieutenant, be careful. That's borderline insubordination. You will give the Admiral the due respect her rank carries, regardless of personal feelings." He didn't expect or want a reply from Terrik on the matter, so he considered it closed. He may have lost his command, but he was still a Captain and the Bajoran will respect that or lose his rank and seniority.

"Captain Henderson is commanding the Galaxy now. He's well-deserving of the assignment. The ship will be in good hands, I believe."

"It was in good hands before, sir," the Bajoran noted, although he spoke more with exasperation carefully veiled in his tone, as opposed to a more comforting approach, since at that point he was less inclined to counsel and more inclined to vent a little. Such a thing was considered a major tendency among his people.

"I must admit, I am a touch envious of his assignment to Starbase Atlantis. Of all of you. It's a wondrous facility I hear. I look forward to reading about the crew experiences while at the Starbase."

"Starbase Atlantis?" Miramon narrowed his eyes slightly, reflecting on the reference. "I don't know anything about that, sir. Commander Henderson, I beg your pardon, Captain Henderson hasn't briefed us on that one yet. Still, thanks for the heads-up. At least now I can do some background research so I don't sound like a complete idiot in the briefing room." He gave the Captain a joking smile to indicate that he wasn't been serious. "So what are you planning to do now, sir? There can't be that much they can have you doing on a Starbase."

"I'll figure out something to do, Lt..." M'Kantu furrowed his brow as he faded off the sentence, stopping to wait for a turbolift. "I've been curious about your personnel file. You are Bajoran, yet you have switched your surname with your given name. Why?"

Miramon was somewhat surprised at the change in topic, but perhaps the Captain didn't wish to discuss that right now, so he'd go along with it.

"It always seemed to me that it would be convenient for everyone that way. Anyone not knowing Bajoran customs would simply call me Miramon colloquially, or refer to my surname naturally if addressing me formally. Those aware of our customs would still be likely to address me by my given name, so I felt it was a good idea. I can't expect everyone to be aware of our customs."

The lift arrived, depositing several crew, each greeting the two men as they entered the lift. The older man held up a hand to signal an interruption as he called out his destination. "You shouldn't allow the ignorance to continue. We need to learn and appreciate the differences between the peoples of the Federation. Ignorance only allows the outside forces at our doorstep more of an advantage."

The Bajoran nodded in agreement, but he wasn't really inclined to worry either way, and said so. "Frankly sir, I've never seen it as a problem. There are hundreds of different worlds that are part of the Federation, and nobody expects us to learn the ways of each one. Certainly, now Bajor is part of the Federation, people are becoming more and more familiar with our ways, but we're a tolerant people. And it takes no time at all to correct someone if they make a mistake."

"It may be small and trivial to you, but it echoes respect. Allah and the Prophets know there are some who need to be reminded of that fundamental principle the charter was signed under."

A raised eyebrow was the only reply the Captain received for a moment, as Miramon tried to work out precisely what M'Kantu meant by that. His brow furrowed, and he looked closely at the older man, trying to get a closer read on his expression. After a moment, he shook his head, and asked that which had stopped him for a moment.

"You're familiar with the Prophets, Captain? If you'll excuse my saying so, it's very unusual to hear a Human mentioning them casually."

"I'm familiar with many religions, Lieutenant. It's part of my job. Diplomacy comes in many forms, but first and foremost, it's a healthy respect for what constitutes an iconic view of each culture's own faith. Though, I am not afraid to admit, I am unfamiliar with the history or details of the various Bajoran religions. It is important to note that it does play a strong role in their everyday lives."

The lift opened on their destination deck, where the two officers exited solely. "Do you follow the traditional belief of the Prophets as gods, or as teachers as promoted by the book of Ohalu?"

"The Ohaluvaru, you mean? Yes, I'm an adherent of the new religion. My family isn't, though. My older brother is actually a member of one of the traditional temples, the only dedicated religious member of my family, as it happens. But I'm not sure I believe in Gods. And, to be honest, our religion has never required us to worship the Prophets, as one would do a God, but instead we have always acted as though they are our guides, our teachers, our protectors. Yes, we pray to them, but it's not quite the same."

The Bajoran paused briefly. He wasn't very familiar with other religions, aside from those on Bajor - he'd tried to get his head around some of them, but most of the ones he'd encountered tended to be contradictory somewhere along the line.

"How about yourself, sir? Are you a religious man?"

"It depends on the moment, Lieutenant. At this point, all I can do is pray. I'm not a strict believer in my own faith, but I do believe faith comes from within. We make our own destiny, and shouldn't rely on others - non-corporeal or not - to do our work for us. It's far more self-rewarding when we accomplish our metaphysical needs on our own terms, don't you think?"

The Bajoran thought about it for a moment. A concept like atheism or a faith in nothing other than the person themselves was something of a foreign concept to him, as it was to pretty much the majority of his people - after all, when they'd lost everything in the Occupation, their faith was that which had kept most of them going, and once the Cardassians had left, the first thing the Bajoran people had done was to re-establish the old centers of their faith. And once the Emissary had come to Bajor, it went without saying that the majority of them had reasserted their faith with an enthusiasm that was surprising to many outside Bajor.

"I don't agree, sir. My people have always believed in the Pagh - the life force that sustains us, enables us to exist. In a sense, we do rely on what you call non-corporeal beings, for the Pagh flows from the Celestial Temple, and the Prophets alone replenish it. Were we to be cut off from the Prophets, we would lose our way. I suppose we're lucky, in a way. From what I gather, Earth religions are mainly based in myth and blind faith. As Bajorans, we have evidence of our faith, and we know the Prophets exist, and that they guide us. I think you might find it difficult to comprehend, but putting aside the differences between our Orthodoxy and the Ohaluvaru, imagine what your life would be if you knew, truly, that your gods existed - that you could give them name, form, and substance. How might your life be altered?"

"Point taken, Lieutenant. Philosophy was never my strongest achievement at the Academy." They came to the entrance to the shuttle bay, where his transport lay just beyond the bulkhead. He paused before entering, though.

"Likewise though, from our perspective on Earth, to give our Gods a physical form, or name, or substance as you've put it would also be potentially catastrophic. We've always based our lives on the hope of something beyond, and find that the path to getting there is always been a learning process from which we build our own existence from. To suddenly be faced with the knowledge of something beyond that may be different from what we have believed in all our lives through the centuries..." Daren shook his head. "It could be devastating to all the belief systems held dear by so many." He tilted his head. "But it's not for me to speak on behalf of all peoples of the Earth.

"In a sense, we all live in blind faith, no matter what is presented to our eyes. We will still die, and for all the reasons already mentioned in your philosophy and so many others, we still face an unknown existence after."

"I suppose that's true, sir. But certainly I don't particular care much for a focus on death - indeed, most of my people prefer not to speculate on an afterlife or any such thing. In our religion, it is the living that is important, and though we mourn death, we don't tend to look much beyond our final days. It's something of an unhealthy preoccupation - once you start playing with concepts of what happens after you die, it tends to play a larger role in your life. And I've always found it a dreary thought."

"All religions do have one thing in common, no matter the stage or knowledge. Hope. Hope always springs eternal."

The Bajoran gave his superior officer a gentle smile. "Religious leaders tend to agree with that, but I can't say I do. Hope is a pessimistic thing - something has to go wrong before you can employ it, and you must assume the worst before you can hope for something better. That kind of negativity doesn't appear practical to me, but then what do I know? I leave that sort of debate to my brother."

Daren chuckled at the deflection, but ceded the notion. Religion is just one of those topics that never has a correct answer. Much like politics or sexual orientation amongst multiple gender species.

"Then let us 'hope' there is nothing wrong with the shuttle, as I have an appointment to keep with a certain person I'd rather not keep waiting. I do believe their belief in hope is not the same as ours, and not one I'd prefer to see at this point in time, either." He depressed the buzzer to the bay, and moved inside as the doors parted.

As Daren M'Kantu and Miramon Terrik discussed the merits of freedom of religion and other random musings of just two men, life continued for the rest of the crew of the Galaxy as they made preparations for departure under their new Captain. Simply put, life would go on, and nothing could be simpler than that. *That* was blind faith.

"Reservations"

Lieutenant J.G. Miramon Terrik, Chief Navigation Officer

Lieutenant J.G. Saul Bental, Chief Tactical Officer

Set immediately after "Details And Double Agents"

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

Silence never lasted long when Saul and Miramon were together. That's why the long quiet seconds after the two junior department heads left the briefing at Deck 23 seemed like eternity.

It was Saul that broke the silence, just before Miramon had the chance to do the same.

"I told you I had a bad feeling.", He prompted.

His Bajoran friend looked over at the human and shook his head, a mirthless smile appearing on his face, distorting the otherwise tranquil appearance that the man normally maintained.

"You always have bad feelings about something. I await the day when you'll have no reason to be suspicious of something." He paused for a moment, his expression smoothing over, becoming more serious. "That said, you've been preoccupied since you walked into the briefing. What's on your mind? You and Nara haven't been fighting, have you?"

"Has vehalila!", Saul dismissed Miramon's concern, "Actually, we've never been better. The trip to Sakaria brought us closer, and she didn't yell at me or try to shoot me for several months now."

It was the truth. Between the visit to the cave, the nights afterwards, sharing a cabin on the transport and making peace with Branwen, Saul's relationship problems seemed to slowly advance toward a solution.

It seemed that in Saul's life, as well as on the USS Galaxy, things couldn't remain perfect forever.

Miramon grinned. "Now I thought that sort of thing brought some spice to the relationship. Are you trying to suggest that maybe things aren't as interesting anymore?"

"No no no.", Saul rushed to say, "In fact, I like it more like this. I have enough on my head to keep me busy without fighting with the woman I - without fighting with Nara."

"Understandable, believe me." The two walked in silence for a moment, then Miramon voiced the question both of them were likely sharing for the moment. "So Starfleet wants us out on covert ops, huh? I can only imagine your feelings at being called up for Intel again." He gave a gentle commisserating smile. "So much for your transfer relieving you of the burdens of cloak and dagger, huh?"

"I didn't need the relief.", Saul replied. "Fundamentally, I'm an Intelligence Officer. That's what I'm good at - gathering, processing and analyzing Intelligence data, and outsmarting the other 'players'. I also intend to eventually return to Intelligence."

"Well, I think you're mad for thinking so, but then what I know of covert ops comes from the Occupation, and those were seriously desperate times. Even so, I'll admit I'm not sure about this."

"It's not like in the Holomovies - where the story always ends in gunfight or space combat. The best covert operation is a safe covert operation. The enemy must'nt know that you penetrated its lines. So, if we do a good job hiding our identity, the rest should be a walk in the park."

"I know that," Miramon noted with a slight tone of rebuke present in his voice. "Not quite the Bajoran method, but then, before the Occupation, the very idea of a covert operation was unknown to us. Once the spoonheads came, though, the aim was to make as much noise as possible without anyone knowing it was you."

"Did you take part of the resistance operations against the Cardassians?", Saul asked.

"In a manner of speaking." Miramon normally didn't talk about the Occupation that much. Frankly it was one of those periods of history he tended to regret. "Officially, I was just a pilot aboard a merchant freighter shipping Ore from Bajor to various outlying Cardassian sectors. We weren't as active with the Resistance as many, but the beauty of working under Cardassian eyes is that you could smuggle things in and out without them paying too much attention. Weapons, people, that sort of thing."

He paused a moment, gathering his thoughts, then shrugged. "Of course, we had to be careful. We were used to the border patrols boarding and searching us, so it wasn't as though we were constantly doing something to help, but nor were we active members of the Resistance. We were just the quietly enlisted support."

"That may explain you."

The Bajoran narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"How should I put it... I'm pretty confident that I was one of Henderson's first picks for the team. In fact, my first posting after the academy was quite similar to what we're about to do. But other than me and Remur... I still can't understand how people without background were assigned to the team. No offense, of course."

Miramon nodded, although he disagreed fundamentally. "Well, background aside, there are skills to consider, and frankly, the only alternative is to send those with background alone, thus sending a smaller team, or to bring in people from outside, which is a bad idea."

"I agree. But Comm... Captain Henderson wasn't born yesterday. I'm sure there's a broader picture which we cannot see from our vantage point.", Saul snorted. "There always is."

The Bajoran shrugged. "Not for me to say. He says go, and I'll go. The ramifications really don't matter that much to me, so long as we get the job done."

"Right, but...", Saul shook his head sideways so strong that Miramon half expected the head to fall off the neck. "I still have a bad feeling about this. Something is not right with this assignment, Miramon. I am not going to call it quits, but it's very tempting."

"Well, why do you think I'm coming along? Someone's got to watch your back, right?"

Saul smiled broadly. "Couldn't think of anyone I rather have watching my six, mister pilot."

"I imagine you will at some point. Probably halfway through a firefight." Miramon's amused grin was one Saul was probably pretty used to seeing by now, since the Bajoran had a tendency towards a little light-hearted joking more often than not, simply because he was otherwise far too serious for this own good.

"Just make sure you aim at the bad guys and not me, and we should be just fine.", Saul snickered. "So who is going to replace you on the helm while we're away?"

"Contrary to your personal beliefs, Mr Bental, I do not run a department of one!" Miramon noted in what was his most formal, professional, stern and stuck-up tone. "I'm leaving Lt Selena in charge in my absence. I've gotta admit, it's weird that she outranks me, but I'm still her CO. Although, since she's Vulcan, she doesn't tend to complain about it. How about you? Who gets promoted?"

"You can consider yourself lucky. I have a LIEUTENANT COMMANDER in my department. And another one who was recently demoted to Lieutenant, and rightfully so.".

Saul sank into thoughts for a moment, before giving his answer. "Ensign Rey'ol is the assistant chief. She's also stable, something I can't say about other certain Tactical officers. I'll give her the reigns, and ask Commander Janx and Nyoko to lend a hand as much as they can without stepping on her paws."

The Bajoran nodded. "Sounds like a good idea to me. I'm just glad there's not the same level of potential infighting in Navigation. How do you keep things together?"

"I don't know. Right now it just works, people do their job and there's minimal friction. However, I suspect that at the first sight of danger, there will be a moment either Janx, Darkstar or one of the million Lieutenants in my department will disagree with me, and things won't be so smooth."

A very nasty smirk appeared on Saul's face. "And that will be the point they will learn not to mess with a street kid from Utrecht, the hard way. But I'm going to do my best to avoid such a situation."

"Well, I've messed with you before, and I gotta say, you're not all that scary. Your face goes all red and you look like you're preparing to explode, but other than that..."

"Miramon, I don't think you'll ever get on my bad side. Red face is what I reserve to friends. The rest is reserved to enemies."

Miramon's smile didn't waver for a second. "Your problem, my friend, is that you don't have the true calm which would make you terrifying to everyone were you get angry. Methodical, yes, and certainly ruthless in pursuit of your endeavours, but the one that you have to watch out for is the one you can't even picture ever being angry. And let's note that Nara is the antithesis of such a person, so don't go looking there."

Saul shrugged. "Intimidation is not part of my arsenal. I have cousins who are much better at it than me. And I didn't even mention Lieutenant Kreighoff from security or those mutant marines of ours. Poor Bran... at any rate, I'm a firm believer in 'Don't get mad, get even.'. I just hope I won't need to get even while I'm on board."

Saul almost said something else, but regretted it. Telling Miramon that 'the things that TRULY angered him nobody knew.' would be inviting questions that Saul didn't intend to answer. He preferred losing a debate to giving Miramon a broader hatch than necessery at what was really going on inside his mind.

"I hear you there. Anyway, what's our next move?" the Bajoran asked. He'd never done any official intelligence work before, whereas Saul was the professional of the two, so he figured he ought to ask. "What wasn't the Captain telling us?"

Saul paused, and glanced at both sides of the corridor, making sure it wass devoid of possible unwanted ears. Fortunatly, there were no other people in sight.

"Quite a lot. There are too many 'why's. Why is the team led by the only NCO? Why, excluding me and Raynor, wasn't anyone from our Intelligence department assigned to this job? Why REALLY don't they send a professional covert operations team? Why are...", He didn't want to say 'supposed to hijack a shuttle' out in the open, so he settled for : "Why are our means of approach the same they defined? There are many other questions, but I don't want to discuss them right here in the corridor. I think that our security net in this one is not very reliable - at least less reliable than what I'm used to. Plus, I'm not sure how much thought was invested in mission planning. Our next move? To go out there, do our best to accomplish the mission, and..."

A faint smile crossed Saul's face. "... and get back alive."

Miramon stared at his friend intensely for a moment, trying to work out something that had been bugging him since the briefing. There was something about Saul that wasn't quite what one might have expected of someone about to be sent on a potentially dangerous mission. What was it...?

Ah-hah! A sudden thought cleared up the confusion. He'd seen that look before, on Bajor when the two had been part of a team that had gone with the Valkyrie to hunt down a missing officer. Yes, he knew that look!

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? I thought you'd be bothered by the whole thing, you know, being called up and sent out onto the field, but you're actually enjoying this. You like this, don't you, the thrill of wading into dangerous territory and not getting out again. You're not kidding me around, are you?"

"Why, of course.", Saul beamed. "Everyone enjoys doing what they're good at."

Miramon rolled his eyes. "Most of what you're good at tends to be both risky and potentially lethal. How you can enjoy that, I'll never know. Anyway, I've got work to do in the meantime. See you in the morning."

The Bajoran didn't wait for a reply, but headed off almost immediately. As it was, Saul would want to spend a little time with Nara before they went, whereas Miramon personally had lots of things to take care of himself. Surely one of these days they'd get a break. Assuming they got back from this particular mission in one piece.

“Comfort amongst 'friends'”

Principle Characters

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
2nd Lieutenant Branwen London

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 31
Corridor Delta-Seven

~The bloody bastard. I will kill him, I hate him, asshole!!!!!!!~ Bran muttered as she walked down the corridor. Well, walk… she kept kicking the bulkheads looking for anything else to take her anger out on.

The sound of repeated impacts and muttering drew Victor off his normal route. They didn’t sound right for a fight – not unless one of the combatants was, say, a motionless Brikar or Horta - but still required investigating. There hadn’t been any real incidents aboard the Galaxy since the mandatory counseling sessions after the Diparthu Incident, most of the crew’s normal hostilities, irritations, and fears had been subsumed into the wounds left by the alien parasites, and in treating those wounds, the others were lessened as well. Such a state couldn’t last forever, though, and this might be the reemergence of one of those. Or nothing more significant than an engineer who’d lost their temper with a piece of equipment.

It was, as it turned out, neither.

Victor regarded the sight of the normally cheerful and abnormally perky Marine for a moment. Obviously something was wrong, although he had no idea what would reduce the woman to this state. Something to do with her new CO, perhaps; or maybe Marine Command had reduced the amount of coffee that their troops could consume on duty? No, he decided, not the latter. Even the Marines weren’t that crazy. Whatever it was, he had questions to ask now that he’d seen her, so he could fill out the standard reports on the incident.

“Lieutenant,” he said quietly while still approaching, leaving himself enough time to respond if she whirled and attacked. “Please stop attempting to injure your foot with the ship.”

“Oh shoot,” she shot back at him. “I am so not in the mood for you, Victor,” Bran shouted. “I cannot handle two idiots in one day!!!!!!” She kicked harder. “Ouch!!!”

Victor frowned at the hopping woman. Taking the padd in his hand, he typed out the message – LIEUTENANT, PLEASE STOP TRYING TO HURT YOUR FOOT WITH THE SHIP – AGAIN - and held it up. Perhaps that would, as he’d though earlier, work.

“And what is it to you if I hurt my foot, you moron? As if you give a @#$% about me, after all these months of my trying to make friends! And now suddenly you start about the bloody wall!!!!” There was a lot of frustration coming out all at once.

That had, he reflected, seemed to work better. At least she had stopped kicking the wall. The yelling part was inconsequential – people yelled at him in anger or fear all the time. He typed again: ATTEMPTING TO DAMAGE STARFLEET PROPERTY IS AGAINST REGULATIONS. ATTEMPTING TO DAMAGE STARFLEET PROPERTY *WITH* STARFLEET PROPERTY IS A DUAL VIOLATION.

She just stared at him and then blinked. “What the… what do you mean besides the wall?”

Victor held up his response in a few seconds. YOUR FOOT, LIEUTENANT. IT’S STARFLEET PROPERTY AS WELL ACCORDING TO THE ENLISTMENT PAPERS YOU SIGNED WHEN YOU JOINED UP. This seemed to be working at least as well as talking to people. Maybe he should try it all the time.

“You are crazy aren’t you?” She tried to pull the padd away. “Don’t pull an Ella on me, you crazy bastard!” Then she started kicking the wall with her good foot. “I … will… do… what… I … bloody … well… like!!!!!!!! There!!!!” She yelled.

Or maybe not. He decided to give the padd one last try. LIEUTENANT, IF YOU PERSIST IN TRYING TO INJURE YOURSELF, I WILL BE FORCED TO RESTRAIN YOU.

“As if you care!” Then she suddenly gave up and threw her arms around his neck. “I have a horrible new boss, my period just started this morning and you are pulling an Ella on me,” Bran sobbed.

Victor looked down at the smaller woman and switched frowns. If using the padd was going to have women hanging all over him, then he was going back to talking and having them runaway from him. This was getting him nowhere.

“Lieutenant,” he said, taking the Marine by the shoulders and disentangling her. “I don’t think that damaging your foot is going to solve any of those problems.”

“Oh Victor, what do I do? He hates me; Baile is never going to give me the chance to prove myself,” Bran sighed.

“Has he tried to kill you?” Victor asked in his toneless way. “If he hasn’t, then he likely doesn’t. He’s the type that lashes out against the things he hates.”

"That is your criterion for everything isn't it? Somebody can be a pain in the ass without wanting to kill you. You know him?" She was curious; actually Baile would be the perfect friend for Victor.

“I am what I am, Lieutenant,” Victor replied. “For me, that isn’t true – if I hated someone they would be dead or I would. If I was irritated enough with someone to lash out with words, they would be dead or I would. That’s why I don’t let myself get mad, or irritated, or allow myself to hate: because my standards for the use of force are neither yours not those of the people that live in your world of same-uniform sides.” He regarded her for a moment more. “And no, I don’t know your superior, I just know the type.”

"Maybe you should. He sounds like the perfect friend for you." Finally she smiled. "So after all these months you still don't hate me?"

Victor held up the padd, wondering if it would work this time. YOU AREN’T DEAD.

“There you go again, silly person.” Her mood was better now. “You like me, awwwwwww.”

Victor decided that trying to understand the mathematics needed to predict the gravitational interaction of three co-orbiting rotating black holes had to be easier than figuring out what went on in Lieutenant London’s head. “I didn’t say that Lieutenant. I said that I didn’t hate you.”

“Awwww you are such a sweetie.” She hugged him again. “We will do something fun together soon, yes?”

“That depends on what you consider ‘fun,’ Lieutenant,” Victor observed. “Based on the most recent example, if it involves self-inflicted injuries and shouting, then the answer is ‘no.’”

“I promise,” she said solemnly. “I will even let you pick what we will do, Victor.”

“That wasn’t what I meant, Lieutenant,” he corrected.

“Oh no, no backing out now, Victor.” Bran started to move on. “You just surprise me.”

Victor frowned at her for a moment. “Lieutenant,” he said as she turned to leave, “are you going to continue to attempt to damage Starfleet property? If so, then I’m going to have to haul you to the brig.”

"I promise my friend. I will be good for you." She giggled, all the emotions still had to come out some way. "And I am looking forward to your surprise."

Victor switched to a different frown and held up the padd again. I AM NOT YOUR FRIEND.

"Don't be silly, Victor.  You just proved yourself to be a friend.  See you!"  With that she was off.

off: Because it wouldn't be Christmas without...

"Holiday Cheer"

by Samantha Widdlestein

Samantha was feeling better than she had in months. Not 110% better, not terrific or fabulous or ready to take on the evil arboretum and class room, but better. And so, being the ship's morale officer and all, ....

"HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!!" Sam bellowed as she ran down the corridor ringing her Christmas bell.

She skidded to a stop in front of the first door and methodically opened her commando backpack, with its new label of "Holiday Cheer" in dripping red ink, and took out the tape, snowflakes, glitter, staple gun, ornaments, candy canes, mistletoe, and extra bells.

"Oh, no." A man groaned from about five doors down from her.

"OH YES, MY FRIEND!" Samantha shouted cheerfully. And then her eyes narrowed as she reached for the staples to load into the staple gun. "AND DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT LOCKING YOUR DOOR."

*****

"Get your Christmas cookies here!" Samantha called out. "Free Christmas cookies! With a five credit tip, of course."

"Well, then it's not exactly free, now is it." A woman stated.

"Well," Sam said thoughtfully. "We have candy canes if you want to watch your figure. I certainly would if my ass were that fat."

*****

"Just think of it this way, Auntie Ella," Samantha said sweetly as the turbolift doors opened and "Feliz Navidad" came blasting at full volume. "It could have been Polka Appreciation Week."

The engineer groaned.

*****

"Look, you piece of steaming forshak!" Sam snarled at Kol, who wouldn't accept her Christmas button "Not a creature was stirring, not even a Qa'Hom." "I am TRYING to spread a little morale to the troops so TAKE THE DAMN BUTTON BEFORE I RAM IT DOWN YOUR PTHAK THROAT!"

Samantha smiled sweetly as the surprised Klingon took the button and then went skipping down the hall, the bells on her shoes jingling merrily.

*****

The holographic representation looked at her button. "Um, Sam, I think you gave me the wrong one."

Samantha looked down at the button that said. "Well, it could be worse, you could be dead"

"Whoops! That's for people who were possessed by the Dithparu."

****

"What are you doing?" A woman asked curiously to her neighbor, who was currently peering out his door. A bucket of water ballons waited by his feet.

"I'm ready for her this year." The man snickered, tossing a water balloon with barely contained glee. He turned his head toward his neighbor."She tries to decorate my door and she's going to be sorry."

"Um?" The woman said and then motioned for him to look behind him. Then she quickly ducked back inside her quarters.

The man paled as he turned to face Samantha Widdlestein, armed with the ULTIMATE SUPER SOAKER (DEATH BY LIQUIFICATION version). It had three huge chambers to hold water and was decorated with a piece of holly.

He was quickly hosed back into his living room.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!" Samantha yelled with an evil grin.

"The Redefinition of Self"

Major Corran Rex, C.A.G.
Lt. Commander Brian Elessidil, Asst. Chief Counselor

Corran scratched absently at the hair at the back of his head. Though he'd customarily shorn it short, in recent months, he'd allowed it to grow somewhat. It was certainly the least of the changes he'd been through recently. It had been months since the Dithparu incident, but all this time spent at Deep Space Five.. the crew hadn't really gotten over it. They needed to move on. Everyone knew that but Starfleet, it seemed.

Another not inconsequential change was that he was, willingly, seeing a Counselor. Still, Elessidil had high recommendations, and... more than that, he'd been possessed by the Dithparu, too. And the recent change in things with Ella - whatever this relationship of theirs now was.. well, maybe it had affected him too.

Granted, Corran didn't have an appointment or anything so handy as that. What he did have, though, was a computer that helpfully told him the Counselor was currently alone. With that in mind, he pressed the chime for the Betazoid's office door, and waited for an answer.

"Come in," the voice on the other side of the door directed . . . with a layer of exasperation that Brian wished he could have retracted as soon as it came out. It wasn't that he didn't want to see any more people, it was . . . well, yes, it was that he didn't want to see any more people. It had been a long week and the appointments were far from over. Unscheduled sessions were especially tiring, as they filled the all-too-brief respites in days that seemed to get progressively longer.

"Counselor Elessidil?" the Major asked as he entered, seeing the tired-looking man seated behind in the comfortable chair that sat against the wall.

Brian looked up at the tall man, wondering how he was going to summon the energy and focus for yet another counseling session.

"No offense, Counselor, but you look like the living dead." the pilot observed frankly. "Look - I can come back. It's not a problem."

"No, it's fine, really," the counselor protested, though less insistently than he might otherwise have done. He set down the PADD he was basically just doodling on at this point and rose from behind his desk. Without looking at the other man, he gestured to the cluster of chairs and couch across the room. "Please, have a seat."

"If you're sure.." Corran trailed. He didn't look convinced.

"I'll admit, Major, I'm only mostly sure, but I'll be fine . . . just need to get a second wind," This was actually going to require somewhere around his fourth wind for the day.

"You know you've been through a tough time when even the fighter pilots start dropping by the department," Elessidil said with a friendly grin and a small laugh. He was almost ready to take a seat in one of the comfortable, well-padded chairs when he stopped as if he'd suddenly remembered something he was supposed to do. "I'm sorry, can I get you anything? Water? Tea?"

"Tarkalian tea..." Corran started to reply, and then frowned. "No, wait, Boras was allergic to that. Try Bajoran gumja.. no.. Oh, hell. Give me water."

Brian never knew offering a beverage to a Trill could be such a tricky endeavor.

He'd seen Corran Rex before, but only briefly, right after coming back to the Galaxy. The man was obviously a pilot, obviously Trill, but that was pretty much as far as his knowledge of the pilot went. Not expecting him, Brian hadn't read Rex's file either, so he was pretty much starting out with an entirely clean slate.

"What can I do for you, Major?" the counselor asked, finally --gratefully -- settling into his chair.

"I've got forty-two voices in my head that're having a little trouble all getting along at the same time," the Trill said frankly.

With any other species, it'd be a sure sign of schizophrenia. Or maybe exaggeration. For a Trill - particularly this Trill - it wasn't.

Elessidil just stared at him for a second. It wasn't every day that someone showed up complaining of trouble between his inner voices. With anyone else, the counselor would have heard the statement as mere hyperbole, the result of everyone having so much on their minds after the encounter with the Dithparu. But in this instance, he knew better.

"Forty-two?" Brian echoed. "That's not insignificant, Major, not even for a Trill. Is this something that's happened before?"

"In the broader sense of the word, or the more immediate?" Corran asked, somewhat sharply, taking the tone of an Professor. "You should be more succinct, Counselor. As a telepath, one would think that you of all people would be aware of the need for precision in language."

The counselor grinned and went wide-eyed, more out of amusement than surprise, as if to say, "Oh I should, should I?"

"Sorry," Corran winced. "One of my hosts was a university language professor. Very much a stickler for that kind of thing - that's one of the problems I've having. Little mannerisms like that keep popping up when I'm not expecting them."

"Do you have any idea what to expect?" Elessidil asked, genuinely curious. "What do you know about your various past hosts?"

"Well, ah.." Rex started, trying to run through the list. "Vel liked to sleep in weird positions, so I keep waking up on my head. And Vashan was a sexual guru, so that part of my life's gotten.. interesting... but you don't need those details. More than a couple were smokers, so I've picked that up. At least those damn things don't cause cancer anymore. And then there's Klingon batleth-making, crocheting, and Nautican interpretive dance. Have you ever seen a biped try to imitate the dance of boneless crustaceans? It's not pretty."

The counselor shook his head. "No, no, I can't say I have . . . and batleth-making and crocheting . . . never something I thought I'd hear uttered in the same sentence." He paused to think, folding his arms and bringing a hand to his chin in contemplation. "And this all started after the Dithparu incident?"

"Yes.." Corran trailed. "Sort of."

"Can you tell me a little more about how this works? I mean, would you describe these episodes more like your own expression of thoughts or memories from previous hosts, or completely different voices or personalities? More like the present you is just shoved aside while someone else takes over."

"Well.." he started, trying to figure out how to lay it out the most succinctly. "Before, when I thought I was suffering from T'Rex's, it was different. Old hosts would take over, and it'd just be a different personality. You'd think of it as dealing with someone with multiple personality disorder."

"And how is it different now?"

"Well, the dithparu incident removed a memory block that's been in my mind for five hundred years. All the sudden I found out I wasn't sick, I wasn't crazy. But it did leave me with thirty lives and almost sixteen hundred years of memories that I never knew I had. It's been months, but I'm still having trouble making sense of all of it. Hell, of any of it. It's too much. It's like wanting to go skinny-dipping near the beach, and finding out you dove head first into the ocean."

"Interesting analogy," Brian off-handedly commented. "I'm wondering Major -- and you'll have to excuse me for not being tremendously well-versed in the psychology of multiple Trill personalities -- I'm wondering if there's some precedent for dealing with this kind of situation. I don't mean anything medical in nature, but rather a...a discipline or a technique. Vulcans have many techniques for emotional control, Betazoids have techniques for telepathic and empathic focus and screening; it seems reasonable that the Trill would have developed some kind of mental discipline for just this sort of thing . . . an issue that's uniquely Trill in nature. Are you aware of any historical cases of this kind of memory...'pollution', for lack of a better term, or any Trill mental disciplines that might address it?"

Corran had to fight from rolling his eyes for a moment. "Why does everyone always suggest the Vulcans first?"

"Force of habit?" the counselor suggested.

"No, seriously." the Trill replied, knowing that he was starting to rant a bit, but not really caring. "You'd think there weren't any other species out there capable of mental discipline. It's getting kind of annoying."

Brian raised an eyebrow, almost as if he were of the species in question. Based on the strength of the major's reaction, it appeared the man didn't like Vulcans. The counselor made a mental note.

"I just don't think a species that represses most of its own nature is qualified to give psychological help." the pilot snorted. "They're an entire species in need of therapy."

Letting Corran speak what was on his mind, Brian simply listened, holding his response until the other man was finished.

"I don't think I was suggesting you see a Vulcan for psychological help, Major," Elessidil calmly stated. "I was merely using them as an example of a species that has developed techniques in an area that is of particular importance to them."

"I know, I know," Corran sighed. "It's just that that's been everyone's first suggestion. To answer the question.. there's a good number of Trill in exactly the same boat I am. Only none of them know it yet."

"Meaning . . .?"

"Meaning there's no such thing as a syndrome that thousands of joined Trill suffer from. Meaning, at some point, somebody mucked with all of our heads to keep us from remembering something. And now I'm the only one of my kind who knows differently... if it's not just all in my head."

"So on the one hand, you seem pretty convinced that this is not unique to you, yet on the other hand you're concerned it may all be in your head. It sounds to me like that fundamental question needs to be answered before you can determine how best to deal with the situation, don't you think?"

"I don't know." he shook his head. "Psychic miracles aside, I think the only thing that's going to let me sort it all out is time."

"To an extent you may be right," Brian partly agreed. "I think time, with a little extra effort, will help clarify the 'is it only you or not?' question. However, I don't advise just letting this kinda run its course and see what happens without any further attention."

Corran raised his eyebrows out the Betazoid. "Sounds like you have an idea."

"The extra effort involves some research an observation, something that I'm more than willing to help you with. Right now, all I can sense is that you are indeed being affected by this multiple-host problem, but whether the cause is ultimately within or outside of you isn't clear. I'd like to do some checking with others who are more specialized in Trill psychology. I'd also like to do some research into whether this problem has been reported by other joined Trills. That might provide some clues. What I'd like you to do, Major, is to start keeping a record of your state of mind and of particular occurrences like you exhibited earlier -- when did they occur, under what conditions, how long did they last, which former host personalities were involved, et cetera. I'd like to keep meeting with you regularly, say once a week at least for now, to keep tabs on how you're doing and to hear what you've noticed in the time between. And if at any time you feel you need to meet more frequently or at a specific moment, you know where to find me. Does that sound reasonable to you?"

"Allright." he nodded, standing from the overly-comfortable chair. "I'll give it a shot. Thanks, Counselor."

"Any time, Major." Brian replied warmly - though the fatigue was still abundantly clear in his voice as he stifled a yawn. "Any time."

"Adding to the Memory Box"

Nara & Saia

"Saia, your friend has a strange sense of humor." Nara stared at the button that declared, [Things could be worse. I could be dead.] She looked at Saia after a moment, "And what exactly am I supposed to do with this?"

"Sam said people wear them." Saia answered matter of factly.

Nara laughed handing it back to Saia, "Tell Sam, no thank you. She did this last year around this time. The girl's..." Nara thought better than to call Sam nuts, or any other names when Saia was around. Before Saia, Nara was free to call and think about Sam as the evil minion she was. Now with Saia as her friend, she had to be careful so as not to insult the only close friend Saia had. "That girl's a little to generous with buttons."

Saia took it and looked down at it sadly, "It's true, though."

Nara nodded and watched Saia a moment, "You're right. But during such things, you'd prefer to be dead than have to go through it." Nara winced then. What a depressing dark thing to say to a child. "What I mean is," She added as she opened her eyes, frantically searching for words, "There are horrible, scary things that happen. And...not being aware would be better than going through it. Yet, when it's all over, you've grown stronger."

~Or realized how weak you really are.~ She said to herself as she watched Saia.

"Maybe you don't have to wear it, but can we keep it? Like a souvinere?"

Nara blinked. Saia made it sound like some thrill ride at an amusement park, but she only nodded, "Sure."

Saia went to the bedroom and pulled a box out from under the bed and came back in and put it on the table. She opened it and put the button in. Nara peeked in and raised an eyebrow, "What's all this?"

Saia smiled as she dumped the contents out on the table. It was only a few things, but she seemed proud of them. She first held up a photo. "The instructor wanted us to write a report about our parents. I wrote some about you and some about them. He said if we could provide pictures, it would be extra points. Sam helped me search the database for my parents as they were harder to find than you. We then asked the computer to put it on some paper and the replicator materialized it for me."

Nara watched her sadly as she placed the photo back in the box.

Then Saia took another piece of paper and unfolded it. "And this is a picture of how I remember the sun you drew in the sand."

Nara smiled watching her fold it back up and place it back in the box.

Next, Saia held up a beautiful necklace. "The grandma lady gave me this. I figure I better keep it. Especially since she said it was supposed to be mom's but she never had a chance to give it to her. It skipped a generation. So I guess I better keep it so that lady doesn't get depressed."

Nara tried not to laugh as she said, "That's very kind of you." Nara was also trying not to cry.

Saia then put the button back in the box. "And now we have this to remind us that no matter what, at least we're not dead."

Nara sat back looking at her, "It's not fair that you're the strong one."

Saia shook her head as she closed her eyes, "Whatever."

"No, I mean it. Ever since we first met, it's like you've had more strength than me."

Saia rolled her eyes, "It's called youth, Nara." She then went into the room to put back the box. Nara just sat there realizing how much Sam was starting to rub off on Saia. So long as Saia was essentially still Saia, it was ok.

"Who, Who, Who Let The Monsters Out"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell
Commander Karyn Dallas

***Karyn's Office, Counseling Department***

Nara sat there, looking at Commander Dallas. "You know, the typical stuff I'm sure the others have told you."

Karyn shrugged. "Others have told me their reactions to what happened to them, but I can't presume to know how you feel, Nara."

Nara glared at her. Darn the woman. Fine, She'd cut to the point this time, "It's a lot like rape, counselor. Except worse. Someone forces your body to do things you'd rather not. Someone penetrates your mind taking what they need, leaving you feeling violated." She crossed her arms, "Does that answer your question?"

"What do you think?" Karyn asked evenly. Nara had worked with her long enough to know that Dallas wasn't looking for the simple intellectual answer. Like so many of her conversations with Nara, anger seemed to underlie everything, and yet, anger and frustration were never feelings she identified.

Nara sighed. She should know better, but couldn't help it. She gave the straightest answer she could. "I think it does." She looked down trying to block it out. She had managed to ignore it for the most part. She wondered why her mind didn't block this out like it had with Marks.

She spoke softly, but firmly, "I just want to forget about it, ok?"

Karyn nodded in understanding. "You're no different than anyone else who is going through this, Nara, but wanting to forget and actually doing it are two separate things. But deep down, you know that, don't you?"

Nara looked down and answered in a low voice, "Would explain why I can't sleep."

"It might help if you talk about it. Monsters live in the dark."

Nara still didn't look up, "So what good is it to bring them into the light? I'd really prefer not to see them. As long as they stay in the dark, my sanity is in tact."

"But then you can't sleep," Karyn reminded her. "And you need your rest, Nara. Just like with Marks, I think we can talk this out together."

"This was worse than Marks." She brought up her legs to hug them, "So why didn't I block this out?"

"I can't be sure, but perhaps it's because this time, you have the support and the strength to deal with it. You were a lot younger with Marks, a lot more isolated."

"Or because this stupid telepathy opened up my mind and I can't shut my own thoughts out." Nara added bitterly.

"Maybe," Karyn offered easily. "But then, why should you be any different than anyone else?"

"I've brought it up to a few people. No one wants to talk about it. I really don't blame them."

"Perhaps the department can arrange for a few group meetings. A lot of people would rather avoid it because they think they're the only ones going through it."

Nara smirked and then downright laughed, "Or they'd prefer no one know they're going through anything. Believe me, I wouldn't come. My...."

She was about to say boyfriend, but she and Saul hadn't exactly decided if they were exclusive, so she continued, "I hadn't even talked about it to Saul or Saia. Well, a little. I talked to Saia enough so she could handle going back to school, but I think those counselors helped her. Saul and I just discussed the fact that it wasn't really me that tried to kill him and I really think it best we not talk further about it."

"What are you afraid will happen if you do talk about it?" Karyn asked.

Nara sighed, "I fought my feelings for him for months. I yelled at him, threatened to kill him. When I finally let all that go and we got together, the Dithparu were screwing with our minds and I was acting like a jerk to everyone. Including Saia and Saul. So he and I hadn't really had a decent relationship except for the last four months. We're getting along great and I really don't wanna screw it up."

Nara looked down as she decided not to mention that she freaked out when she and Saul attempted to get intimate.

Karyn steepled her fingers. "Maybe you wouldn't screw it up at all. In fact, I think you'd be enhancing the intimacy in your relationship because you're talking about what's on your mind instead of sweeping it under the rug."

Nara shook her head, "I just don't know what there is to talk about. This being got in my head, took away control, gave me a killer headache, left me for months without telepathic control. It's the same story. I can't give you or anyone any new facts."

"You might try telling Saul how you're feeling now. Afraid to sleep and ashamed of how you treated him and Saia."

"He already knows I'm sorry for how I acted before. And why would he need to know my sleeping habits?" Never having had a boyfriend-type-person, Nara never considered he would or should care. She didn't think she wanted him to care. Besides, Saul said he wasn't responsible for her safety. So why would he care how she slept?

"Because when people care about each other, they want to be supportive through the good and bad times."

Nara looked down, not sure what to think or say about that. "He couldn't do anything to help, so why bother him with it?"

"How do you know he can't help? You haven't given him the chance to help," Karyn reminded her.

"When he learned about Marks, he didn't seem to know what to say. Except offer to leave and tell me to take my time. I don't really want to do that to him again."

"What did you need him to say, Nara?"

"Exactly what he said. He offered to leave. I didn't want him to, but the offer of space proved something then. Same with saying I could take my time. He's not pushing me. Nor I him. Kind of the whole point of simply 'trying.'"

"But you're still not happy or sleeping right now. And it sounds like you're afraid to be refused again if you reached out to him, or me."

"Who said I wasn't happy? And I really don't care if I am refused by anyone." Denial city, but as far as Nara was concerned, she meant every word. Hence the phrase, Denial city.

Dallas shook her head. "That's not what you said when you told me about Marks. You were afraid I wouldn't believe you."

"This Dithparu issue isn't about being believed. Who would or could deny it? I just don't see the issue in discussing it. I'm obviously not afraid to be telepathic as I visited a mind that is second only to Victor Krieghoff's. But Saul couldn't touch me without me huddling into a frightened mess."

Karyn was beginning to understand. "So it's not about how Saul would react, you're afraid how you would react if he were to offer support?"

Nara looked really confused now, "What do you mean by that?"

"You said you were huddled in a mess when Saul touched you," Karyn repeated.

"Because it made that memory of Marks shoot back at me with shocking force." Nara hugged her legs tighter.

"That must have been scary," Karyn admitted. "I can see why you'd want to avoid that, Nara, but your fears are normal."

"I'm not very concerned with normal. I'm concerned that...." Nara looked away, feeling herself grow angry. "I can't imagine how he felt being pushed away like that."

"Did you ask?"

Nara looked at the counselor, "No."

"But you think you know how he felt and you're..." Karyn prompted.

Nara turned her head slightly, "I'm...what?"

But she thought a moment, knowing Dallas wanted her to fill in the blank. "I think he was left unfulfilled and that makes me a bad lover?" She spoke it out sarcastically, not sure if that really was how she felt.

Even if it were, it wasn't the real issue. "Even after all that, he told me he loved me. If anything I feel guilty that I couldn't..." Nara stopped and glared at Dallas. "Dang you."

"That you couldn't have sex with him?" Karyn suggested.

Nara slumped, "I wanted to up to that point. I mean, we even had most of our clothes off." Nara blushed a bit, wondering if that was too much information. "Then he just touched me. It wasn't even the way Marks touched me. Marks hurt me. Saul was gentle." A pained smile came across her lips as she recalled it. "He didn't deserve that."

"You weren't trying to hurt him, Nara. You just got overwhelmed. It's frustrating, I'm sure, but it sounds like he's willing to be patient."

Nara sighed and nodded, "I just wonder when we can do that without me remembering."

"I know," Karyn replied gently. "But this is a start, right?"

Nara put her chin on her legs as she was still hugging them. This wasn't fair. "This is stupid. I feel like I'm losing who I was. I fought in a war for cripes sake. I destroyed mines; I killed people. I went through a hell ride through Baile's mind and here I am huddled up like a scared little girl."

Nara pouted. "I'd be a lot better off if that memory never surfaced."

"Perhaps, Nara. But it did surface, and you're here. That's something. You're going to get through this."

"Psychological answer in a can number twelve. It doesn't make it any easier."

"I never promised easy."

"And I never expected easy."

"But you're allowed to be frustrated with me," Karyn replied with a smile.

"No need to be frustrated with you. I'm frustrated with me." Nara answered.

"No sense beating yourself up, Nara. It's not as though you're being lazy about this. You're taking steps to deal with it. You have a new relationship, a family. It's progress."

Nara nodded as she put her hand to her head, "And a headache."

"Maybe we should stop for today?"

Nara let her feet down, "Sounds like a good idea." When she stood, she held a hand out, "I know I'm fighting you at every corner, but thank you."

Karyn took it and squeezed. "I'm with you, Nara. I'm not going anywhere."

Nara narrowed her eyes, "Just don't patronize me. You can't promise how long you'll be here. I'm ok with that."

Karyn nodded. "Fair enough. As long as I have a choice, I'm here."

Nara nodded, "Alright. Have a good day, Counselor."

“Mask”

Primary Characters;

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe

And

Lieutenant (Jg) Michael McDowell

It was a cold sensation that gripped Dhanishta now as she returned to her quarters. Nara didn’t understand, she couldn’t. Her worst fears had come true. For all her smiles there were tears. For all the fake laughs, there was a knife twisting under the surface. The mask she wore was slipping and she could feel it.

The change had happened and she didn’t know when or how.

The part of herself that she had held in and controlled was beginning to raise it’s ugly head.

She had violated Nara’s mind. No matter the circumstances she had used her abilities against another.

For years she had restrained. Even when it meant saving her own life she hadn’t used them.

The Dipthru hadn’t changed her. Even though they had made her irritable and more susceptible to becoming a murderous bitch, it hadn’t been them. Though Dhani wished that it was. She wished that she could blame her actions on them but she couldn’t.

There was something else inside her.

It had always been there.

But it had never taken hold.

Dhani didn’t give it room to breath let alone manifest itself into actions. But now… Now something had set it free.

And Dhani was more terrified of it than anything else.

She walked across the room and sat down on the couch, curling her legs up beneath her, staring out across the vacant room.

*** About 15 minutes later ***

The door opened with a soft hiss. Michael entered the room, his eyes looking from the couch near the window to the chair near the computer console. He sighed. No Dhani. How long had it been? One week? Or maybe two? Michael didn't know for sure. It was hard for him to think anyway since he felt exhausted after being without sleep for so many days in a row.

He slumped to the couch and lay down. How long before he would be able to sleep again?

He'd been to several Doctors and had a few Counselling sessions, but his sleeping problem wasn't solved in a few weeks. Understandable, but in the meantime Michael was fast becoming a wreck, both physically and emotionally.

The door to the bathroom opened and Dhani emerged fully dressed. She had taken a sonic shower for a change. It was quicker than an ordinary one, but still she had lingered in it for longer than necessary. She hoped that she could wash everything away, but it appeared that that wasn’t going to happen. She saw Michael lying on the couch and stopped. Not sure what to say. It was stupid really, he was her closest friend and yet she had no idea how to greet him. She looked down at the floor and stood motionless, chewing her bottom lip.

Michael lifted his head slightly. At first he said nothing and just looked at Dhani standing there. He had mixed feelings now that he saw her again. He wanted to just hold her in his arms without saying a word, because no words were needed. But he also felt the anger towards her, the urge to shout at her, to let her know what he thought about her keeping herself locked up for so long, without letting anyone near her. But it never came to all that.

"Hey..."

Dhani lifted her head slightly to look at him, “Hey.” she returned. She wasn’t sure weather to accompany her greeting with a smile or not. She really wasn’t sure what to say, or do, so instead she asked a rather stupid question, “How are you?”

As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted saying them. She knew Michael, better than anyone, and she could see the pain in his face; the exhaustion that surrounded his eyes, the colour that had drained from his face. She could feel the mixture of emotion that welled inside him; she could see it all like the nose on his face. And more than that; she could feel it too. He was angry with her. But didn’t he understand why?

She shook her head, no he didn’t. He couldn’t understand, cause she didn’t.

She closed her eyes and braced herself for the fall out that would follow.

"To use old Earth slang, 'Like shit'." Michael said. "You must know that. You can still feel my emotions, right?"

Dhani nodded and stayed silent a moment.

“I’m sorry.” She ventured.

"Yeah,...you're sorry. Well, I'm sorry too. But that doesn't make things better, does it?" Some sarcasm could be heard in his voice. It just escaped him. Michael was this close to spitting it all out without thinking who he was shouting at and what for.

Dhani remained still. She wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t want to scream at him, but she wasn’t in the mood to mollycoddle him and tell him everything was going to be okay. So she shrugged her shoulders and walked away. A voice in her head screamed at her for being a bitch, and yelled about the ethics of friendship and walking away from your friend wasn’t one of them.

Weather it was Michael or her conscious she relayed her course and headed for the replicator instead of the door.

She stood in front of it for several minutes. She didn’t want a drink. Though she could use one she supposed, though she would prefer a strong, real drink. One that would knock her out and wake her up some time next week. That way she wouldn’t have to deal with the here and now.

“Tea.” She called out. “Two.” She added.

As the drinks materialised she took one and placed it on the table in front of the couch and then resumed a half sitting position on the edge of the table.

She stared at the reflection in her tea for a moment before setting it down.

“I’ll be honest with you.” She started, “I have no idea what to say to you. I have no idea what happened to you when you were on the station. And I have no idea how to make it better for you.” She said slowly.

"Dhani, I don't want to talk about what happened to me. Not now." Instead of looking at Dhani while he talked Michael had fixed his eyes on the ceiling. It was his way of saying that she had hurt him by ignoring him entirely. It probably was selfish of him, since she too had been through quite a lot herself the last mission, but that was the way he felt and the feeling wouldn't go away.

"I only want to know is why you shut everybody out, including me?" he turned his head sideways so he looked Dhani in the eyes.

"I know you have gone through a lot lately, just like me and almost everyone else. But what I don't understand is why you don't let anyone near you."

Dhani swallowed hard. She could feel the chill creeping in around her. She shuddered slightly and turned away from him. How could she tell him?

She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I don’t really know what happened.” She said quietly. “I don’t remember much. Not what I did, or what the others did. Where I was, or anything. I didn’t know what I had done or if I had hurt anyone. And I was afraid. I was afraid to walk down the corridor and have someone shy away from me, or call me a…. murderer.” The word caught in her throat. How many times had she heard it? How many times had that accusation been thrown at her, and how many times had it trickled off her like water off a ducks back? She stood deep in thought for a moment wondering were those memories came from. She hadn’t openly killed anyone…. Had she?

That dam perpetual question had been eating her for what felt like months.

She sighed and tilted the mug on the table. “Look,” she continued, “I’m sorry that I kept you at arms length. Really, I am! I didn’t mean to hurt you.” The mug wobbled, “You know I would never…” she stopped as her eyes began to water. She pouted momentarily and swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure.

“I would never intentionally hurt you.” She pushed against the tears that were welling inside her.

While he saw Dhani was on the brink of crying, something which he hated seeing, he kept thinking about that one word she mentioned, 'murderer'. Michael stood up and gently picked up Twister, his cat, who'd joined him on the couch a few minutes ago by picking a place right beside him. He walked over to Dhani, carrying Twister on his arm. He still didn't understand and part of him still felt angry at her, but the anger was quickly fading. What would anger bring him, or them, anyway? No one could be blamed. It just happened. It was going to take time for the 'wounds' to heal.

Michael wrapped his left arm around Dhani's shoulder. "Shh,...hey,...it's all going to be alright. I'm sorry I was angry with you. It's just,...it's just hard for me to understand what exactly happened to you." he said with a soft and warm voice. It was followed by "Hey, what about a group hug? You, me, Twister and.... Hm, where's Salem when you need him?"

Dhani smiled, another fake smile. In part she wanted Michael to scream at her, she needed someone to shout at. And it was infuriating that he thought a hug and a kiss could make it all better.

She didn’t want comfort, she didn’t want to be told that everything was going to be okay, she wanted answers. She *needed* answers so desperately. She felt like she was choking. A caged animal in a freak show, taunted by children, laughed at by adults, pointed at, sneered at. She wanted to break free and bare her teeth, sink her incisors into warm blood filled flesh, and feel the crimson river flow through her veins.

But instead she smiled, wiped away the forming tears and tickled Twisters ears.

Inside the tears welled, the knife twisted harder, the rage burned and the hunger for the truth consumed her.

"Private Note, Public Speech"

Lieutenant J.G. Saul Bental
Chief Tactical Officer, USS Galaxy

with... 2nd Lieutenant Branwen London
Marine Psychologist, USS Galaxy

* * *

To : Ensign Nieca Rey'ol / Tactical / USS Galaxy NCC-70637
CC: Captain Cassius Henderson / Command / USS Galaxy NCC-70637
Lieutenant Commander Ekoma Janx / Tactical / USS Galaxy NCC-70637
Lieutenant J.G. Nyoko Yuuri / Tactical / USS Galaxy NCC-70637
From : Lieutenant J.G. Saul Bental / Tactical / USS Galaxy NCC-70637
Subject : Leave of absence

Shalom all,

Captain Henderson has granted me a short leave to wrap up my Master's degree. During my leave, Ensign Nieca Rey'ol will be assigned as the Galaxy's Chief Tactical Officer.

Nieca, I am confident that the Tactical department is left in capable hands.

Nyoko, you will take the role of TAG leader while Nieca takes command of Tactical.

Ekoma, as the senior ranking officer related to the department, I would like to ask you to aid Nieca with any potential issues involving the chain of command, though I am sure that none will rise.

See you all soon.

* * *

The words 'Message delivered' flickered on the screen. Saul turned away from the console, picked up a paper note he wrote just before composing the message, and rushed out of his quarters. Seven minutes later, his console came alive once more, with a new message notification from Herzelia, Earth. A message which Saul will not have a chance to see before departing from the Galaxy.

* * *

Branwen finally had time to relax, so she was on the couch reading. Nara was at work and Saia at school, so she had the place to herself.

The sudden chime of the door surprised Bran.

"It's Saul.", came the response when she inquired who wished to enter.

"She's not here." She answered a little bit put out. Saul was almost the last person she wanted to see right now.

"I just came to leave something for Nara.", He said.

"Why not wait until she comes of shift. Should only be another hour or so." She told him after having fully opened the door.

"I won't be able to wait that long. Please Bran, let me in, I really don't want to leave the note on the floor by the door."

She did let him in. "What is the big rush, Saul? You guys are not fighting, are you? Remember what I said about hurting her."

"I do remember.". But he was going to hurt her, wasn't he? He preferred leaving the note to seeing her in person, because he didn't want to take the risk that something will leak during the conversation. He would be the last to admit it, but he really want to hug her before departure.

"We aren't fighting, I just don't think I'll get the chance to see her later today, and I don't want to interfere while she's working."

"You would tell me if any thing was wrong, wouldn't you?" She said suspiciously. There was something, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Saul smiled reassuringly. "Just as you would tell me, Bran.". He approached Nara's bed, and left a folded paper note on the pillow. He placed a little metallic object on it, to keep it from flying away.

"If you lie to me you know I will never trust you again, for good this time." She said simply.

Saul rolled his eyes. Trust on Branwen to become over-mellodramtic in the exact wrong time.

"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies.", He quoted. "But I guess you'll find out anyway. I'm going off the ship for a short while. I really don't want to talk about it... and since the next transport leaves before Nara gets back, I figured it would be nicer to leave her a note than just talk with her on subspace. OK?"

He managed to sound reluctant, letting Bran fill in the gaps with her fertile imagination. His tone implied that he was going off on a personal business, and he hoped that Bran will assume the same.

Then, he realized that with the Chief Flight Controller, Chief Tactical Officer, Marine CO and Command Master Chief all gone at the same time, more similar questions are bound to ask by the Galaxy crew.

"I still wish you would have told her in person. Be careful whatever you are going to be doing." She said softly.

"I will. And you keep her safe while I'm gone.", He replied.

As he turned to leave, his fingers fluttered on Bran's hair.

* * *

Saul was the last team member to arrive to the shuttle bay. He wore simple civilian attire, its shape and dark colors not uncommon amongst the Gryphonite merchants. With his undistinctive cloths and appearance, It was easy to become just another figure in the crowd, a faceless body amongst many. Unseen, unheard, unimportant.

Crowds were the best place to hide in.

He wasn't surprised to see which intelligence officer stood next to the unmarked civilian shuttle's launch pad.

"Urro.", He said simply, flashing a fake smile toward the man he shared quarters with on Special Observation Craft #74.

"You.", Urro Chordata frowned. The Betazoid was wearing indistinctive civilian cloths as well. The most distinctive mark was a fashionable black visor covering his eyes. The area where the team's shuttle waited was isolated from the rest of the bay, but still Chordata took every precaution to keep his face out of anyone's memory.

As a member of the Special Observations program, his life depended on it.

"Didn't they tell you I was on this mission?", Saul asked.

"Why should they tell me anything? The Special Observations program's only role on this mission was to provide this shuttle."

Saul nodded. Obviously, aside from that, Urro was kept in the dark about the details of the team's mission. That's how covert operations worked. The smaller number of people who knew the secret details, the higher the chance of success.

"I don't believe they reactivated you after our last mission.", Chordata grimaced. "The cover was blown because of you. All of us had to be sent to a long chilling period after what happened."

"The committee cleaned me from any responsibility for the cover blow-up of our craft.", Saul stated calmly.

"The committee was not there. Me and you know what happened on SO"C 74, on that last mission."

"What happened was that I played my role well. No one I was in contact with suspected that I was involved with Starfleet. If I would've interjected with the locals' attempts, they wouldn't just blow craft 74's cover. They would've blown MINE. And I wouldn't be standing here today."

"If you hadn't made contact with that family member of yours…"

"I did not contact ANY of my family members ever since I was seventeen.", Saul lied. "Oh, except for this cousin that happened to reach DS5 several months ago. Now, if you don't mind…"

"Go ahead.", Urro hissed. "Just don't blow your new team's cover like you did with the old one. I suspect that your destination is less friendly that the star system we visited last time."

Saul's response was in Hebrew, and had everything to do with Urro's mother and Terran goats.

* * *

Autumn in Israel .

Beneath the overcast skies, two hundred rows of plastic chairs were lines across the grass. Most of the chairs were occupied by Humans, ages ranging from twenty to fifty. Some of them were wearing black robes, the traditional mark of a graduating student.

The man standing on the podium was bald, except for several streaks of silver just above his temples and ears. His face were less wrinkled than what one would expect, and he seemed quite satisfied as he presented a Bolian with a large, framed certificate.

The man spoke up again when the Bolian descended from the podium.

"The ninth name on the Dean's list is Shaul Bental.", He began, his amplified voice booming across the grass. "Shaul is a Starfleet officer. He is part of the Herzelia Interdisciplinary center's unique remote studying program. His research in the field of Hydran – Federation relations comes from a unique perspective of an officer who served near the Hydran border and even participated in the controversial events that took place on the Havras system. Shaul, are you with us?"

Several awkward moments passed before a young man climbed on the podium and whispered a few words in the center's dean's ear. A displeased look crossed the dean's face.

"It seemed that we were unable to reach Lieutenant Bental through subspace. I guess he's too busy dealing with Hydrans in this very moment!"

Giggles could be heard from the crowd. None of the people at the ceremony could possibly know how ironically right the dean was.

"Anyway, congratulations to Lieutenant Shaul Bental for finishing his Master's degree in Federal Security and Political Sciences, and entering the dean's list. Now. The tenth name on the dean's list…" * * * The doors closed behind Saul Bental, and soon the engines' roar filled the shuttlebay. Outside, the Hydran border awaited, and beyond it - danger.

3101