"Consuming Eclipse"

By:
Ensign Aren Furai - Flight Control Officer, USS Galaxy

==--==

Aren Furai rested against a chair, the soft harmonic waves of classical music showering her quarters in a way that brought relative calm to her troubled visions and nightmares. Her steady breaths were periodically disturbed by sudden gasps for air, her closed eyes fluttered with a sense of panic. Her dream swallowed her towards darkness, towards the cold depths of space.

Small beads of sweat fell from her forehead and neck, her hands thrashing out for something to hold onto. Gripping franctically onto the armrest of her chair, she held on tight as the fullness of her longs collapsed suddenly into nothingness.

The stars were flashing brightly as if welcoming her, even while powerful beams of crimson light tore into the hull ac! ross from her. The Cromwell was being consumed by a powerful foe, one prepared to feast upon the burnt corpses of her crew. Watching her friends vanish into the void, she couldn't shake the knowledge that she was next.

There was a voice in the distance, a dark sinister calling that curdled even the depths of hell. He knew her name.

* * *

Without warning, Aren jolted up from her seat, nearly collapsing onto the floor unexpectatly. Suddenly alert and aware, she cradled her arms while the fierce shivers slowly dulled into an eerie calm of silence. Her soft whimpers were diminished by the music she had left on before falling asleep.

"Computer end music!" She yelled franctically, the drum of song cutting out suddenly. Struggling to command stability in her painful gasps of air, it became ever so clear that she had a lo! ng way to being better. Taking a few moments more to collect herself, she slowly picked herself up while avoiding the gaze of the stars.

It was late, the hour had slipped past into the early evening. In a few hours she would report to her post on the Bridge. Her stomach was growling with hunger, even though it remained twisted with distress. These nightmares had faded not nearly as well as she thought they had.

She had lived amongst the stars her entire life, and yet now its consuming eclipse had her in near paralysis. For the first time in her life, the absence of her world brought about a sense of sorrow.

Aren Furai moved towards the shower, where she slipped off the soaking remains of her uniform. Startled by how vivid these visions were, at times like this she felt safest when hot rain fell upon her slender flesh. As she leane! d against the wall, savoring the steam as it flowed upwards around her, her mind struck further into reality.

And that is when she was reminded that she had an aquiantence to meet in the lounge. It was nearly time for her to be there, but he would have to wait a little while longer.

-TBC-

OOC- May I introduce Aren Furai, PCC who will be helping out on the helm station. In the meantime, is there anybody would wants to meet up with my troubled little character. ;-)

"Rock Lobster"

Ensign Zavian,
Provisional Medical Officer

Lieutenant J.G. Nyoko Yuuri
Tactical Analyst / Military Intelligence Officer

Zavian had not received the reception he had been expecting when he boarded the USS Galaxy. Although the humans he dealt with directly were pleasant enough, he was aware that he was being regarded with suspicion. At least he thought it was suspicion. Human faces were so hard to read. He knew what a smile was supposed to look like, at least, and not many of them were doing that.

He hadn't left the quarters he had been assigned since that day. It was taking time to bring it up to spec with his personal needs. The humans had offered to do it before he arrived, and didn't seem to understand when he explained that it would be impossible for them. Still, they deferred to him. Now, a few weeks later, the walls still hadn't finished growing.

The room could hardly be recognized for what it was anymore. The temperature was at least twenty degrees hotter than outside. All the standard furniture had been removed and the walls, floor, and ceiling were covered with a solid, off-white substance. There were no corners anymore, just a soft, undulating line that gave the impression of being inside a lumpy egg. On the walls there were protrusions of various size and shape. The floor was covered with at least a foot of water, which was teeming with plants and other live critters, such as the sea bugs that the humans on the space station had introduced him too. 'Lobster,' he thought they were called.

* * *

"Lobster-kushi!"

Nyoko Yuuri was skipping through the corridors of the ship, two lobster-skewers dripping Tariaki sauce in one hand, and a PADD in the other. She barely dodged a bulky security officer, then accidentally stepped over the foot of a girl that just emerged from an intersection.

"gomennasai!", Nyoko apologized as she darted past the girl.

"Jeez.", Sam murmured to herself, watching the petite red-collared officer's back. "She's acting like a child."

Lucky for Nyoko, she was already on a different dock by the time Sam noticed the spots from the Tariaki sauce which sullied her pants.

Not many officers would take the mission Nyoko was given with such a high mood. The nice Lieutenant from operations kindly asked her to help out a new exchange officer assigned to the Galaxy's medical department. He said that they wanted to ask Saul to do it, but he was away doing shady-Saul-stuff, and Rey'ol recommended her for the job.

Most of the other officers would scoff such a mission as unfitting their skills. They would seek out new life and new civilizations and all that only for glory or a promotion, not as a side job. Nyoko was different - making new friends from bizzare new worlds was something she considered 'fun', and it would be even more fun to gossip about the guy later.

In fact, being contacted by Lysandra Stuart from intelligence five minutes after the hunky OPS guy hanged up made it less fun whereas other officers would consider it a bright spot in an otherwise dull task. Lysandra told her that this exchange officer, Zavian, was to be watched carefully, and anything out of the ordinary should be reported immediately to intelligence.

Gossipping was not as enjoyable when you were ordered to do it.

When she reached Zavian's door, she noticed that it was wide open. However, the inside of the room was concealed by a white barrier... a membrane, perhaps.

The curious Tactical Officer mumbled 'Oro?' and pressed on the doorside panel. "Hello Mr. Zavian! Are you there?"

Zavian peered over the edge of his ledge, startled by the voice from nowhere. The Rihannsu did the same thing on their ship, and he nearly jumped out of his skin the first time it happened.

"Hello? Yes? I am where I am. Where are you?" He cocked his head to the side as he spoke, wondering if the human could hear him. It felt silly to be talking to air. He crawled off the ledge and along the wall for a few feet, waiting for a response.

"I'm outside the door... I think it's the door. You know, beyond the regular door. Can I come in?"

Muttering something in his native tounge, Zavian crawled across the wall. The 'membrane' that covered the walls was actually a plant life that the Vorducaat had developed which they used to create structures. It was designed to respond to his touch. Though there was no visible indication of where the door was, he seemed to have no trouble finding it. He slid two fingers along the surface and a round hole opened up.

The cold air outside rushed in and he winced as he peered through the opening; head parallel to the ground.

"You may come in, only if you wish to have your feet wet."

That decleration was unexpected by Nyoko, but the brave Tactical officer wasn't wearing her favorite boots. She braced herself, and took a step over the one-foot-high threshold into the room.

Her boot made an audiable 'splash'. She expected to feel the chill of the water, but in fact they were warm. The entire room was warm. Almost too warm when you're wearing your duty uniform.

She smiled broadly at the person she presumed to be Zavian. His eyes were large, giving him a perpetual surprised, appearance and the spots on his body were undulating with color. He was naked besides a small pair of trunks that the Rihannsu had insisted he wear.

"Konnichiwa!", She greeted him. "I'm Lieutenant Nyoko Yuuri from Tactical and I was asked to help you settle in I mean I understand you are a medical officer well in professional medical issues I cannot help you but otherwise getting around an 'alien' he he 'alien' ship I was told you were the first of your kind to ever serve on a Federation ship so they gathered it would be nice for you to have a friend to lend a hand anyway as a welcome gift I brought you traditional food from my homeland Japan it's on earth now I don't know if ever ate a lob--"

Something pinched her toes, halting the word tsunami.

Nyoko slowly raised her foot.

Water droplets fell from her boot to the water surface as the horror was revealed.

Something was holding on to it, with its nasty-looking pincer.

"Lobster!"

She poked the living lobster with her Lobster skewer. "Let go of my foot! That's an order!"

Zavian made a noise that could only be described as a laugh, even though it sounded nothing like one. His mouth was open wide, exposing his small pointed teeth.

He snatched the lobster from her foot and tossed it back into the water, then regarded her for a moment with his large eyes. He was still stuck to the wall on all fours, and he crawled into the water and started tracing along the floor, although with his hands so deep in the water it was hard to tell what he was doing. A moment later a platform rose out of the water, stopping inches above the surface.

Zavian climbed on top, still crouched on all fours, and traced a smaller circle, which rose high enough for Nyoko to sit.

"If you wish to stay dry," Zavian explained, rising into a low squat. He almost looked like a frog in that position.

Nyoko sat on her platform, catching her breath. "Your quarters are... very unique. In my eyes.", she said, her speech slowing down to comprehensible pace. "I don't suppose you eat roomates, then... I apologize if I offended you with the Lobster-kushi."

Not knowing exactly what she meant, Zavian just blinked silently for a moment. "I like how they taste. Crunchy." He grinned again, baring his teeth.

"Oh, so you just keep the snacks... umm. So...", Nyoko traced a ripple in the water with the edge of her soaked boots, "How have you been adjusting to the Galaxy so far?"

"The air is cold and dry," Zavian offered. "Have not spent many time outside, yet, but it feels like home in here."

Nyoko smiled. "And I'm sure it'll get even more like home once you get to know the other officers. Have you started working in sickbay yet?"

"Not yet," Zavian replied. "The human who brought me here said to stay until someone came for me. Is that you?"

"I... I suppose so!" Did they really left him stuck here until someone actually cared? With Burton down on the planet, that could've taken a while. "Come, let me give you the grrrrrrand Galaxy tour. Any section of the ship which particularly interests you?"

As they spoke, Zavian had begun inching forward slowly, as if he found Nyoko so fascinating he couldn't stay way. "Biology," he replied, looking her over carefully. It annoyed him that he had such a hard time telling different humans apart. He seemed to be trying to memorize her face.

Nyoko made a mental comment to clear with security and Intelligence about which areas of the ship were open to the alien. "Hai - let's go!"

"Wait," he said quickly, and jumped off the platform and climbed along the wall to the far side of the room. He touched two fingers to a lump and the wall opened to reveal a black bodysuit that fell into Zavian's hands.

"Have to wear this to keep moist," he explained, pulling the suit on awkwardly. It was clear he was not at all used to wearing so much clothing.

As the two exit through the white plant gateway, Nyoko turned her head toward Zavian and offered him a skewer. "Lobster-kushi?"

Zavian stared at the object for a moment, and then accepted it with both hands as if he was recieving an important gift. He bowed his head to show his respect. It seemed important for this human to give him the skewer and he didn't want her to be offended if he didn't accept it and end up being attacked. He honestly had no idea what he was supposed to do with it, however.

He noticed that Nyoko had already started walking down the corridor, and he started after her with a few bowlegged steps.

"You're supposed to eat it, like this.", Nyoko's voice could be heard in the corridor, followed by the sound of something being swallowed.

“The Perilous Nature of Engineering Tours, part I”

Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell, Engineer
Lt (JG) 8-ball Hunter

Walking along the streets, Nara tried not to stare. She hadn’t been in the Dominion war. She never even really met a Jem’Hadar. She’s seen pictures, studied them in the Academy and from all she knew, this was not how she would picture her first encounter with them.

It looked more like an earth, or earth-like community atmosphere. Families, well, that was the strangest of all. Females and children walking along with men. Happily. Enjoying their company, and even the day. The day itself was quite pleasant. Only a few happy clouds scattered the sky, as if only present to break the monotony of the blue.

She was tempted to use her telepathy, but decided better of it. She looked at 8-ball, who was with her amongst a group of others from the Galaxy. “If they’re as friendly as they seem, we should have no trouble doing some information trade.”

8-ball---who didn't want to be there---sourly said, "Yeah, but is anyone EVER as friendly as they seem?" 8-ball had discovered that after being invaded by psycho alien bad guys, she wasn't particularly inclined to be overly trusting. Besides, these were the freaking Jem'Hadar. They weren't exactly the most trustworthy people.

Soon they came to an industrial looking building. They walked through the doors and a receptionist greeted them happily, “Hello! I am to guess you are here to meet our engineers!”

8-ball tried not to wince at the bubbly receptionist. She was the kind of overly cheerful person that gave you migraines. "Hi," 8-ball said, wishing (and not for the first time) that she wasn't the "in charge" person because yuck, that was no fun. She had to admit, though, that after her forced command school hell, she was at least a little bit better with it.

Still, being in charge didn't entirely suit her, and 8-ball tried not to think about her command school memories. . .that punishment was almost as bad as tutoring the children.

"I'm Lieutenant Hunter," 8-ball said to the receptionist. I'm the Chief Science Officer for the Galaxy. This is Lieutenant Roswell. She's an engineer."

Nara smiled and nodded politely as she was introduced.

“I am Jukam’Halak. I will call Gerad’Melaf to come guide you on a tour.” The receptionist made her call.

8-ball tried to keep herself from frowning, but she wasn't exactly a master of self-discipline. Everything was going fine here. . .why did she feel like bad stuff was waiting to happen? Maybe she was getting paranoid. Or maybe it was just how smiley these people were. Seriously, they were like guppies. Spiky-headed guppies.

Gerad’Melaf entered the room and greeted the fleeters. “Come. I will show you the facilities. I do hope we have something worthy of trade for your information.”

8-ball wasn't sure exactly what to say that. "I'm sure it will be a fascinating tour," she said, fervently hoping that didn't sound like complete bullshit.

Nara followed and became weary how easily this was going. As his back was to them, she tried to communicate her worry by looking at her two comrades. She would had mind-spoke to 8-Ball, but they had not agreed to do that and after the Dithparu incident, Nara decided she wouldn’t want anyone in her mind in any way unless she gave permission, and she would give the same respect.

Considering 8-ball had never really used her telepathy in her life, it was a good thing that Nara didn't try communicating with her thoughts, because 8-ball probably wouldn't have understood anyway. But 8-ball could read the look on Nara's face. . .she was worried.

~So am I, kid~ 8-ball thought drily to herself, and tried (without speaking or being too, too obvious) to show that she didn't like this, either. On the other hand, what were they going to do? Run away and pretend like these freakishly happy people weren't creeping them out? 8-ball shrugged her shoulders, figuring they might as well go along with the tour, but nodded at the others. Everyone should be on their guard. If she was being paranoid, fine. If not, well, then maybe no one would get murdered or taken over.

That would really be a plus.

Ens. Artim - Medical Officer, USS Galaxy

Ens. Zev Raynor - Intellegence Oficer, USS Galaxy

with Dr. Valera t'Serov - Science Officer, Imperial Warbird Iaafvi and others

"Grand Tour"

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

It was only a couple minutes before he was to meet Valera for his little tour of the Jem'hadar's science labs. Pity it wouldn't be a solo date as he'd planned. Well, she had always planned for him to bring someone else with him. Clearly she wasn't ready for a romantic stroll. Alright, it was a bit creepy to think they would both consider a tour of a lab would be romantic. Then again, most people didn't send love letters using DNA sequences.

No, of all people "they" asked Ensign Raynor to join them. He of course would probably find something stupid to say about him and Valera. However, come to think of it, he'd probably be useful. Somehow he doubted the Jem'hadar would just give up a genetic sample and their data because he asked for it. For once the black shirts might prove useful for something other then intimidation of civilian scientists. Now if he'd only show up.

Raynor was standing right behind Artim, at that very moment, being silent looking off into the horizion over his shoulders, looking as if he was waiting for whatever the elder doctor was waiting for. The young doctor had not detected Raynor yet as Raynor had dulled his presence to seem like nothing more than a blade of grass to what people widely refered to as the sixth sense. He looked at his watch, and then finally said "So what are we waiting for... exactly?"

Artim was a bit startled by Raynor's sudden appearance, or at least sudden effort about making himself known. Somehow he'd pegged Raynor as the making an entrance type, but then again that didn't fit in his job description.

"We're waiting for...her actually" Artim said nodding in the direction of Valera as she was rounding the corner. She was talking to a Jem'hadar that he assumed was the scientist she was talking about.

"Artim" she said acknowledging him, "Early as usual. This is Karik'itan, he was kind enough to set up this tour. Karik'itan, Doctor Artim of the Galaxy"

"A pleasure Karik'itan"

"He's a doctor? He looks like a child?" the Jem'hadar responded

"And you like a very old lady, but your what? Two? Three?" Raynor asked the Jem Hadar before commenting "And I love what you've done with your hair? Who is your barber?"

Karik'itan glared Zev, "Seven actually, and he's what, ten?"

"More like four hundred ten Karik'itan", Valera responded grinning widely. She had been in the Jem'hadar's place not too long ago, but the idea of Artim being four times her age grew on her.

"Interesting, well, welcome Artim and who's your smart mouthed friend here" , Karik'itan half grunted as he looked over to Raynor.

Raynor looked over at Artim "Were friends? When did that happen and why was I not informed? I don't think I miss that many meetings." Then he looked all confused, "And did you call me smart? You must have my confused with someone esle." Then taking the formal tone. "Zev Raynor," he held out his hand. "Ensign Zev Raynor Starfleet 'Intelligence'."

Raynor also made the side note to himself that there had already been cultural contamination from humanity, as smart mouth was a human term, and the Jem Hadar had no need for an equivlent, their lanuage being based on that of being a Zealot.

Valera stepped over and bent down to Artim while Karik'itan shook Raynor's hand "You brought one of *them* along?"

"First off he's not all bad. Secondly, I didn't pick him, they did. I doubt you got your samples the easy way." Artim whispered back, a look from Valera confirming what the Miran had implied, "And he has a subspecialty in Xenobotany."

Artim and Valera both nodded slightly at each other as they both knew Zev probably didn't know the difference between a Zarelian Orchid and a Terran cinnamon fern, but at least the Jem'hadar bought it.

"Well, then I'm sure you'll enjoy the plant life of our adopted home, shall we?" , Karik'itan said gesturing towards a building not far away.

"Speaking of which," Raynor pipped up. "How have you been adapting local plants for your needs? Or have you been reworking your own DNA to make sure the plants are edible to you? Given the fact you don't exactly know what your nutruitional needs are without the white..."

"It took time, but we adapted." Karik'itan replied curtly as he keyed a security code into the door of the lab. As the group walked through the door, Artim noticed two Jem'hadar soldiers with disruptor rifles standing guard. Karik'itan looked at Artim and saw the phaser on his hip.

"I'll have to ask you to leave your weapon here doctor, it is perfectly safe here." the scientist said as the guards approached the young doctor.

"So I presume you're out of the business of whipping innocent civilians anymore then." Artim said as he reluctantly handed over the larger phaser, still keeping the type I concealed in his coat.

"Its OK Artim, Karik'itan wasn't in the war, he's not like the Jem'hadar you knew.", Valera said in the comforting tone she used when subjects like this came up.

"I'll beleive it when I see it." Artim said as he took up pace with the others as they headed down a hallway. "So Karik'itan, last I knew Jem'hadar weren't exactly scientists."

"We weren't, there was no need for us to be before. However when we were stranded here, the Vorta decided that he would need us to assist him. Thus, some of our DNA was coded so that we'd be better scientists, engineers, and other professions that would be needed.", The Jem'hadar spoke matter of factly, like he'd given the same answer many times before.

"The same technique that was used to make them better fighters was used to make them excel at other things", Valera added. She'd probably asked the same question of him before.

Raynor was still dropping off his weapons, so far he had taken out his custom phaser blade, BamBam (one of his pistols), he dropped an dozen Kunai which had been dipped into various liquids to produce different effects in a body, 40 shuriken also with explosive addons, a couple of photonic grenades, and two stand-issue combat knives.  All these weapons had been well concealed underneath the stand issue, and Raynor had given no outward signs of being weighed down by the pile of weapons that were now placed before them.  His composure was still the same as before.

"Forget anything?" he heard someone say.

Raynor thought a moment, then withdrew another combat knife out of his boot and placed it on the table. If he didn't know any better he could of swore the Jem Hadar guards' eyes were twitching. He still had all his smoke bombs which also generated sensor interference, simulators which only generated sounds of gunfire, (they were all powder no lead), a couple of Kunai and shuriken, Kiki (his other pistol), and his cellular device.

After all his dropped of weaponry, he commented on Valera last statement. "Being genetically engineered to kill is one thing. Thats primal and in all of us. Being genetically engineered to engineer, thats another thing entirely. Where would you get the genetic code you would need for someone to predisposed to that? Its harder to hone, and further more, even if your instinctually aware how to do something, you still need to know the theory behind each piece of machinery and that requires schooling, there is no way around that."

"Everything can be learned if one has the aptitude and the drive. The latter has never been a problem for us. The reengineering gave us the aptitude. After that it was just a matter of time." Karik'itan said as he walked, barely looking back.

"And having it be a matter of survival doesn't hurt either." Artim said looking around like a curious kid while speaking with a definate tone of knowing more about what he said then he'd care to let on. Its how he became good at things he'd never dreamed of being good at.

"Very true Doctor." the Jem'hadar replied as they entered what looked like the main lab room.

Unlike most of the labs that Artim had worked in, this one was organized meticolously and looked more like a military barracks then a lab. Hardly surprising considering the Jem'hadar. There were however the familiar glow of panels, the hum of machines and scanners, and the bustle of bodies, though this bustle seemed very rehersed and ordered, hardly very scientific. Valera nodded nonchalantly and said,

"Appears adequete, though seems a bit...beat up. I assume that's because you had to salvage most of this.

"Indeed. We also managed to...requisition some of it from...well those that we met along the way," Karik'itan replied, bending over a console and nodding, quickly getting rid of whatever was on the screen." I apologize, but I'm needed elsewhere. I'll leave you with Verik'ikat here, he can answer any of your questions and show you whatever you want."

Karik'itan nodded to both his guests and then hurried out a door on the far side of the room. Artim looked over to Raynor and then nodded in the direction the Jem'hadar scientist had left.

Raynor sighed, and waited about 30 seconds before leaving. For some reason, in this era, all automatic sliding doors make noise... and exited the door way, his footfalls did not even reach his own now sensitive ears, but his appearence wasn't that of someone who was sneaking around. His presence was that of purpose walking somewhere, though the purpose wasn't exactly clear to the outsider.

He made sure that his cell was actively scanning and recording data as he followed the Jem Hadar, just incase there was something people wanted to look at later.

It took about six minutes to reach the Jem Hadar's final destination, and in that time, Raynor had only come across one patrol that didn't seem to pay him any mind. Raynor not only acted as if he was supposed to be here, but his very aura was that of nothing out of the ordinary was happening, and the Jem Hadar took that at face value. They let him pass without so much as questioning him. That was the trick of Raynor's technique. Not to seem out of place at all. He could do the whole sneaking around silently bit as well as anyone, but the probelm he had with it was once you were caught, game over.

Raynor saw what looked like a vent, it took him ten seconds to get in silently, and another ten for him to get into position where he could see anything though he could hear the entire conversation since its beginning.

When he got into position he saw to whom the Karik'itan was speaking to. And it wasn't another Jem Hadar... It was a Hydran.

"The Perilous Nature of Engineering Tours, part II"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell
Lt. (JG) 8-ball Hunter

Their tour guide guided them into a room where there were computers, consoles and the like along the walls. Much like any engineering room. On a large display, there was the blueprint of a ship. "This is one of our newest designs. We're trying to push the propulsion system a bit higher without using so much power."

Nara nodded and asked, "May I?"

"Oh yes! Of course! Feel free to look around."

Nara walked over and forgot being nervous. There was a new piece of candy to devour. Eventually, she got into a deep conversation about propulsion drives and power sources with a nearby Jem'Hadar engineer.

8-ball sighed as she watched the others engaged in conversations. She had no idea why she was even on this tour. This was an engineering tour, for godsakes. She didn't like engineering. She didn't know anything about engineering. She probably wouldn't even go anywhere near the engineering department if Ella wasn't an engineer. What 8-ball wanted to do was to go check out the science labs and learn more about the genetic research the Jem'Hadar did. . .but no. She got to look at power sources, instead.

8-ball sighed again and meandered over to the side of the room where she spotted a dark, navy blue door. She figured whatever was in that room couldn't be any less interesting than the room in here, and was almost to open the door when Gerad’Melaf suddenly appeared right in front of her.

"No point in going in that room," Gerad'Melaf said, smiling brightly. "Nothing in there but storage, I'm afraid. But if we go through these rooms, I'll be able to show you much more interesting things."

8-ball raised both her eyebrows at this but nodded and backed off. She definitely wanted to know what was behind that door now (~storage my ass; that smile's too wide to be anything but false) but she couldn't do it now, not with Gerad'Melaf and the other Jem'Hadar watching. 8-ball let herself be led away with Nara and the others, but as Gerad'Melaf took the lead again and started showing the tour group some fascinating engineer wonder, 8-ball took a glance back at the blue door that was now unguarded again.

~Nobody's looking now. Nobody would see.~

8-ball caught Nara's eye and cocked her head at the blue door with a raised eyebrow. ~Come on, Nara~ 8-ball thought to herself. ~Let's go do something actually fun.~

Nara stopped smiling a moment to look confused as 8-Ball caught her eye. Nara just looked at her, wondering what was up.

8-ball sighed. ~If ever there was a time for telepathic powers~ 8-ball thought to herself bitterly. But she had never learned how to do anything with her telepathy, and with the exception of a few excercises her mother had put her through, the first time 8-ball had done anything remotely Vulcan  was when she was possessed by Anlaika and Joe Satan. Somehow, she had managed to do a mind meld, even though now she wouldn't know where to begin.

~Oh, come on, Nara~ 8-ball thought to herself, wishing that Nara was actually hearing them. ~I wanna check out the blue door room. You know you wanna be able to hear this. Come on, come on.~

8-ball had not actually been expecting any kind of reaction and was set to mouth the words 'blue door' when she noticed Nara's expression visibly change. ~Holy shit~ 8-ball thought. ~Is this telepathy crap actually working?~

Nara changed her expression to a more neutral one and looked away from 8-ball. ~Ok. Well, this is convenient. If we decide to play detective, we've got to be slick about it. If there's some conspiracy, they wouldn't like it. If it's not conspiracy, and we're breaking etiquette, protocol, whatever, I, for one, can't afford another reprimand.~

~Oh, there is totally a conspiracy~ 8-ball thought to Nara and then had to pause again. ~This is too fucking trippy. I mean, seriously, I've never been a real telepath or anything, I mean, this just isn't normal. . .oh what the hell is, right? Okay, I can do the whole shock thing later. Right now, we got to figure out what's going on here, and trust me, SOMETHING is going on here. No one is this freaking cheerful.~

8-ball noticed that Gerad'Melaf was leading the tour into another room. There were nobody behind them right now. No one would notice that they had  slipped away. ~If we go now, quickly and quietly, we'll be fine. Probably. I mean, it can't be as bad as the Sun Room. Right?~

Nara tried not to laugh. This girl was tripped out. ~Just focus. Now.~ Nara slipped out of the line and went the other way.

8-ball followed her, crossing her fingers for luck. She'd have crossed her toes, too, but she didn't have that kind of skill. Thankfully, though, nobody was screaming or shooting at them so Fate apparantly thought crossing fingers were good enough.

8-ball and Nara reached the blue door, and as it slid open, 8-ball stepped inside ahead of the engineer. At first, 8-ball could make no sense of what she was seeing because the room was too cram packed full of stuff to do so. All she knew was that it most certainly was not a storage room. For starters, it was waaay too big. Also, there were a good number of Jem'Hadar in protective suits walking around. Also, many of these Jem'Hadar in protective suits had very, very large guns that hardly seemed appropriate in a storage room facility. Finally, it was the Jem'Hadar. ~Peaceful, happy, my ass~ 8-ball thought.

Then she stepped back with Nara very quickly, hiding behind several very large shelves full of technology that 8-ball didn't immediately recognize. Not entirely feeling at ease with her newfound telepathy (not even sure that it would work again), 8-ball whispered very, very softly, "What the hell is going on here?"

Nara whispered just as softly, "Not sure. Somehow this is less creepy. At least this seems normal." Nara kept looking around and added, "Some of the pieces I recognize, but they’re being altered in strange ways. Not for their intended use."

8-ball opened her mouth to complain that she didn't recognize anything when she heard a Jem'Hadar screaming. 8-ball looked upwards to see a Jem'Hadar pointing at them, saying words she figured had something to do with 'intruder alert' or 'kill kill kill'. 8-ball and Nara had just enough time to duck before gunfire exploded over their heads.

"FUCK!" 8-ball screamed, as she slammed down to the ground. She lifted her head quickly, trying to find some form of escape route that involved, well, escape and not a bloody, brutal death. The way they had come in was a no-go. The only way to go was to left, through a darkened and unpleasant looking corridor. 8-ball swore again and tried to crawl/run away with Nara into the corridor, all too aware of the Jem'Hadar behind them.

"Are you okay?" 8-ball shouted at Nara as they ran through the corridor.

Nara looked at her shoulder which had been slightly grazed. It hurt, but she didn't let herself realize it. She looked at 8-Ball and smiled, "Fine and dandy. Just really sad I didn't bring a phaser. Darned diplomatic missions."

8-ball wanted to say something to that, maybe ask how Nara could use a word like 'darned' when they were getting chased by people who wanted to kill them, but she decided to focus on staying alive instead. She and Nara ran through a series of so many left and rights that 8-ball had no idea which direction they were going or how to get back once that was actually an option. They came upon a hallway full of doors, and 8-ball opened the first one, praying there wasn't a regiment of Jem'Hadar soldiers behind it.

There wasn't. There was, however, a dead body, inexplicably, in the middle of the floor. 8-ball didn't bother checking vitals, one, because they didn't have that kind of time, and two, the guy had a big hole in the back of his head that didn't go hand in hand with living. 8-ball heard the Jem'Hadar through the wall and swore. No exits. No weapons. No time.

"Great," 8-ball said drily, and looked at Nara. "Hide," she said, and quickly crawled under a desk, praying that the Jem'Hadar following them were either lazy,incompetent, or narcoleptic.

Nara looked quickly around and found an island type of console and she went behind it. She really wished for some sort of weapon now.

Just as the two girls were safely hidden, two Jem'Hadar burst into the room. They stayed for a few minutes, giving a very brief search, and then left quickly, slamming the door behind them. 8-ball stayed  frozen until she couldn't hear anyone's footsteps anymore, thanked God for incompetent and lazy (if not narcoleptic) guards, and then crawled out from under the desk.

"I knew today was going to suck," 8-ball said outloud, partially to Nara, partially to herself, and then hit her comm badge. "Hunter to Galaxy. Hello? Anyone there? Hunter to Galaxy? If someone's hearing this and not responding just for the hell of it, this is a REALLY bad time. Hunter to Galaxy." She looked at Nara. "Is yours working?"

Nara had tried while 8-Ball was. "No. It could be the building. Once we get out of here, we may have better luck."

"Okay, fine, then," 8-ball said. "No big rescue. Well, we'll just find our own way out. Yeah. We'll sneak out of here now while most of the Jem'Hadar are searching their secret little labrynth, call the Galaxy, have them pick our asses up in time for tea. Or happy hour. Whatever strikes your fancy. Anyway,I'll just go check to see if the coast is clear." Then, grimacing at that awful cliche, 8-ball walked to the door and turned the knob.

It didn't open.

8-ball tried it again.

It still wouldn't open.

"Well, shit," 8-ball said.

OOC: Backposted to before "Double Helix" series. -- MJ

*****

"Courtyard Surprise"

Lieutenant Ella Grey
Lieutenant Nieca Rey'ol
Corporal Falkor Vox

== PLANETSIDE: Free Jem'Hadar Settlement ==

Ella was sitting at a small table, sipping something that she hoped wouldn't kill her, and wondering how she was going to describe this little adventure to her friend Laura.

'Dear Laura,' she could imagine herself writing, 'today I ate lunch with the Jem'Hadar...'

She smiled a little and then returned to entering notes in her computer PADD, when she was suddenly startled by a strange sound. Ella looked across the room, her eyes meeting a strange sight.

Nieca yelped as the Jem'Hadar child that walked behind her tugged on her tail. Her head turned sharply as she glared at the little girl, who in return shrunk back and covered her eyes.

The Caitian laughed at the ostrich-like reaction of the child and crouched down to meet her on her level. The Jem'Hadar child peaked out from under her fingers and giggled in return. Nieca beckoned the girl to come closer and the curious child ran to her.

It had been such a long time since Nieca's childern were this size, she guessed the girl to about six. And despite the unforseen discovery of women and childern on the Jem'Hadar colony, Rey'ol found it to be a comforting addition. The child sat down on the bended knee Nieca had taken and began to exam to large feline ears on the top of the Caitian's head.

The little girl suddenly turned her head towards the alley between two shops and shouted. Nieca only wince slightly from the pain the shouting envoked and seconds later two more Jem'Hadar childern ran out and crowded about Nieca. All three were facinated by the never before seen felinoid and began to poke and exam her exotic features.

Rey'ol merely smiled adoringly at the small childern and flicked her ears back and forth, which brought forth a fit of laughter from the young Jem'Hadar.

"Careful, Tabbycat. When they grow big, they cut those off for trophies," came a rumbling voice from further back in the dingy alleyway. The looming hulk of the Lupin moved from out of the shadows. He cocked his head down to peer at Nieca and the *child* through his optical filters.

"Funny, I'm sure once upon a time someone thought the same thing about you." Nieca sniped.

"No one says such things about me, Tabbycat. Either they fight me, and live, or fight me, and die," he stated simply. Falkor Vox moved from the shadow under the alley's archway, walking toward Rey'ol. Immediately the children froze, staring in awe at the sight before them. Never before had such magic produced such creatures before. Even their parent's and elder's tales never talked about such beings. Tentatively, one of the braver boys--perhaps six or seven, in Earth years--walked up to Vox, and reached a hand forward.

Instinctively, Vox curled his lip, displaying his impressive fangs. He rumbled lowly, menacingly. The message was clear: Don't touch me.

The little boy hugged Nieca in fear of the man-beast and the Caitian happily scooped him up into her arms.

"What's the matter, Cur? People getting use to your face around the ship so you've resorted frightening childern?"

At the same time Ella called from across the room. "Aw, play nice Corporal."

The caniloid's ears quickly swiveled in Grey's direction, then back to Nieca as she stood up with the boy still in her arms. He curled his lips again, causing the other four children to instinctively huddle around their newfound protector. "Rey'ol, Grey," he barked each of their names in turn, "you are to come with me, back to the main settlement. You have...wandered. This is not a request." His tone of voice made the point clear.

"Relax Fang, We're fine... small childern and exotic drinks aren't exactly endangerment."

He did not have time for Nieca's protestation, a fact he made clear by growling low. "If you wish to stay, *Lieutenants*, then you may explain to your commanding officer why you have disobeyed direct orders. If I must stun you and drag you back in order to fulfill *my* orders, then so be it."

"Tetchy, isn't he?" Ella asked the other woman.

He was about to bodily drag both women back to the settlement, when a loud *CRACK!*, followed by a hollow thud, sounded from somewhere deep within the alley.

"What was that?" The engineer asked.

Vox leapt, grabbing the Caitain around her waist, and quickly pulled her to where the engineer was standing. The child, knocked out of Nieca's arms, was stunned by the sudden movement. He sat on the pavement of the open courtyard in bewilderment.

"WHAT THE DEVIL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Nieca shouted and began to fight. "Put me down you idiot!"

"Silence," he rumbled as quietly as he could, his powerful arms still encircling Nieca's waist. As much as she tried to squirm, he tightened his grip. "Be *still*. Something is not right." He looked at both Nieca, then Ella.

"Yes, you're hostile action have drawn suspision." She made a fist and landed it square in Vox's back, of which he ignored.

Ella couldn't see anything, but that was usually when you knew that something bad was going to happen.

Vox tapped his commbadge, but got no response. The other two tried, as well; same thing. "Dampening field," he hypothosized quietly. He watched the child again, still sitting there, beginning to cry. '*MOVE*,' Vox urged mentally. 'Do not sit there!' But the child was confused and riveted by fear.

"You stupid brute...you're the threat around here." An agile twist in his arms and the sleek Caitian found freedom. "Come here honey..." She opened up her arms to the crying child that clutched his skinned knee.

"Nieca, NO!" he barked out loud as she wriggled free from his grasp and leapt to scoop up the child. As soon as she made it to him, though, a bright green energy beam lanced out from one of the building rooftops, striking her in the center of her chest.

A numbing sensation rushed over Nieca before her vision when black and she toppled over the crying child.

Ella gasped.

"Kutch!" Vox swore to himself, while unholstering his sidearm. He motioned for Ella to move back, toward the cafe. She'd be safe there.

Ella didn't argue; she started to run back.

Slowly, he eased around the pillar, his phaser pistol drawn and charged. In reality, the Marine knew that his weapon was no match against the sniper beam the enemy was employing. But, it was better than nothing. If he could just get to Rey'ol...

Unfortuneately, Ella never made it to the door. All the training at least let her bow out with at least the dignity of some good solid punches before the hypo dug into her neck. She squeaked slightly and then was silent.

Vox turned quickly at the sound. He almost called out for the engineer, but held his tongue. Either a question from him, or a response from her would give both their positions away.

'Get Nieca, then get Grey,' he coached himself mentally.

Stepping out into the late afternoon sunlight, he let go three full-powered blasts from his pistol, in the direction he had last seen the beam issue from. Next he sprinted, rolled, and fired again as the enemy exchanged a return salvo, just missing his shoulder by millimeters, singing his uniform.

He fired again, the bright red energy pulses flying toward the sniper's position, blasting away building plaster in the process.

His huge hand grabbed at her uniform, and hefted her light form onto his shoulder, in a rescue-carry position. He began backing up, sweeping the courtyard with his firearm. Then he looked down to his leg, and saw the child clinging to it, crying.

His first instinct was to kick him off, and finish his objective. The child *was* Jem'Hadar, after all. But something inside of him gave pause. It *was* a child. He looked into its eyes, and saw that fear. The same fear the wolf had had so many years ago, when he heard those awful voices as they assimilated his pack. "We are Borg, resistance is futile..."

In that moment, he leapt again, toward the cafe. Burdened by both Nieca's weight and the child's he wasn't as fast as usual. The sniper began shooting again, causing the tiled walkway behind Vox to explode, sending dust and shrapnel into the air.

"Almost there," he said to no one in particular. The boy was clutching so hard to the Lupin's leg, that he was almost drawing blood. Nieca's dead weight--though she was breathing--was also slowing him down. He turned the corner, into the cafe.

The next thing he knew was black, as the heavy rifle butt swung around to meet his forehead.

OOC: Set Just Prior to the Departure of the Covert Ops team to Hydran Space.

"Parting is such sweet Sorrow..."

Lieutenant (JG) Miramon Terrik,
Chief Navigation Officer

Pilot Ember Lansky

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

All packed and ready to go with the few bits and pieces he was taking with him on the mission with Saul and some of the other officers, on their little trek into Hydran space, Miramon sat down on his bed with a huff, wondering what he had left to do. He'd turned things over to Selana, the Vulcan flight officer who was his second-in-command, even though she outranked him, being a full Lieutenant rather than a Lt JG. She was going to handle things in his absence, and being Vulcan, hadn't asked too many questions as to where he was going in the meantime - he'd simply said that he was going away for a while, and she'd taken that and left the unspoken stuff where it was. The cat was staying with his next-door neighbour, who had several of her own and hadn't been at all bothered by another one joining her for a little while. Maybe permanently, if they didn't come back, he'd thought at the time, but Saul was the pessimist of the group, usually, so he'd shaken it off.

Even so, the Bajoran was almost certain that he'd forgotten something. All the letters he was going to write had been sent out - even one to his family, so they wouldn't bother inquiring too deeply into the fact that he was incommunicado for a while. Still, there was something... He thought about it for a moment, his expression quite distant, and then he sat up straight and snapped his fingers in silent rebuke. Of course! How could he have been so stupid as to forget? Since he'd last seen Ember, he'd not had chance to talk to her, let he know what was happening - at least, as far as their official unclassified cover story went. He'd been so busy running around getting everything sorted so it'd all be done before they left.

Still, what the heck was THAT, by the Prophets? That was an excuse, not a reason. He had no excuse.

Besides, he was the one that had intimated that he wanted more than just a casual one night stand. Certainly he didn't feel like a one-nighter was what he'd wanted. No, there was something about her that just, well, he tended to stop there. Sometimes articulating feelings were way too demeaning to the emotion itself, and he didn't want that. But still, he was serious about this, so he had to go and talk to her before he left, otherwise he'd feel like an idiot for the rest of the trip. That and the fact that Ember would probably think that all the talking they'd done beforehand wasn't as serious as it had been at the time, and that wouldn't help matters.

He stood up, brushing off the jacket he was wearing - casual gear for the trip, not uniform. It was pretty fitting for the role he was supposed to play. He walked over to the vanity that was installed in all the bathrooms in officer's quarters and checked his appearance in the mirror. The new nose was annoying - he'd had to have surgery done to make his nose the smooth one humans had, rather than the naturally-ridged Bajoran nose, so his cover was complete. Ember would likely be amused. He took a deep breath, then turned towards one of the computers.

"Computer, locate Ember Lansky."

"Pilot Lansky is in Holodeck 3."

Miramon shook his head with a slight smile. "Not sure I want to know what she's up to, but now's as good a time as any to find out," he muttered to himself, since the cat wasn't around to be talked to, and he'd kinda gotten used to the whole thing. With a grin at the thought, he turned around and headed to the Holodeck to discover what is she was doing.

A martial arts program was running in the Holodeck. With a boxing ring occupying center stage, and the spotlight turned on the two opponents, a match was clearly in the midst of taking place. Spectators, perhaps by choice, were not added into the configuration and the area was surprisingly quiet save for harsh sounds of labored breathing and the lightning quick blows that were exchanged. Rolling on the balls of her feet, Ember had her gloved hands held up in front of the face and the other beside her chin, her eyes alertly fixed on the person she was fighting against. She was covered by a sheen of perspiration and the confined space coupled by the still, breezeless air, made the heat feel almost overpowering.

Apart from toying with the temperature settings, she had also altered the rules of the game against her. The opponent was a human male of a larger physique, who was physically stronger than she was. But even if the odds weren't in her favour when it came to a measure of strength, she was faster and deadlier, her strategy to exhaust his stamina while she kept weaving through the ring and enticing him to make hard punches that commanded much of his strength.

"Come on, you're not getting tired are you?" She taunted, drawing another swipe from him which she easily deflected with a sidestep. Before he had recovered from hitting blind and missing his mark, she took advantage of his momentarily defenseless posture and landed a few well-placed jabs in his face, the blows sending him keeling over to the ground.

At that moment, the double doors to the Holodeck hissed open with their distinctive motion, pushing back into the walls to admit the person that had requested entry. Normally he would have informed Ember before stepping into anything that might have been private, but it was a Holodeck, after all. Hardly a private spot, that. He gave an amused smile at seeing the hologram she had clearly been fighting slumped on the floor of their little arena. He was always fascinated by the various forms of combat that people tried out - he'd never practised one, aside from studying Tai Chi at the Academy, which contained many movements of a martial art, but slowed down to allow energy to flow more effectively through the body. Plus, of course, he'd taken self-defense at the same time, as part of his studies, but he wasn't a properly trained fighter.

The doors closed behind him, although he was too busy watching the young woman that was standing over her 'opponent' to particularly care about anything that was going on around him. After all, she was the reason he'd come, after all.

"Is this how you keep fit, or simply get rid of some of that excess energy of yours?" he asked with an arched eyebrow, his tone partly playful and partly serious, his voice sounded, as it often did, as though he were under the influence of barely-controlled laughter. He wasn't laughing at her, but his general mood tended to switch between serious and reflective - his 'counselling mood' as Nara had called it - and the more playful, easily amused side of him, which tended to be around when he was relaxed or looking to put someone at ease, perhaps. Right now he wasn't sure of much about his emotional state, aside from an odd fluttering in his stomach. Still, this was the first time he'd seen her since that first night.

Ember let her arms fall to her side, staring at Miramon with no hint of welcome in her taut expression. She dimly noticed the teasing note in his voice, revealing possibly a more 'fun' side of him that she had not seen the previous night. But it was not like her mood was lightened by the startling revelations she was making of his character. "Computer, delete hologram," She requested. Her fallen opponent promptly shimmered and disappeared, leaving the ring empty.

Ducking through the ropes, she stepped out, giving him a cursory glance as she did so, obviously unamused. After Ayden had suddenly appeared turning her world inside out, she frankly didn't feel like dealing with anyone in particular, especially not ex-lovers. This was her alone time, and she would prefer if it stayed that way. "What are you doing here?" She asked brusquely.

"What, suddenly I'm not allowed to say hello?" the Bajoran asked, his tone still playful, but his eyes didn't miss the reserve in her expression, nor the coolness of her voice. There was none of the low, soft tones that he'd found rather fascinating on their last encounter, and the warmth he remembered brightening her features was missing. The only thing he really recognised was the simple fire in her eyes, but it was different this time - harder, with a hint of coldness he'd not seen there before. Frankly, it worried him a little. Maybe she'd just had a bad day?

He moved closer to where she was standing, his eyes narrowed slightly as he examined her face for any nuance he might have missed first time around. Certainly this wasn't the reception he'd received last time - that had been very different, but it had also had more feeling behind it, and if something was bothering her, he wasn't going to let it slide until he found out what it was, and how he could help. It wasn't in his nature to just let it go.

"What's bothering you, Ember? Bad duty shift? Or did someone do something to get you rattled so that you felt you needed to come here and blow off some steam, as humans say."

Ember didn't answer right away, busying herself with removing her gloves instead of looking at him. And when she had done that, she began to peel off the white wraps that covered her hands. She could tell him a simple 'nothing' which was what she would have said to brush off someone she didn't feel like talking to. But that would have been an outright lie. Faced with Miramon's quiet concern and sincerity -- she didn't know when she began to develop moral qualms -- but she currently didn't feel like adding a lie into her already too-complicated and chaotic life. It was another thing that would blacken her mindscape, when it was now dark as night.

"Yea, I had a bad day," She admitted with terse resignation, but that hint of honesty didn't mean she was shedding her reticence. She was vague, barely skimming the periphery of the truth. "I saw an old acquaintance of mine. He's on the ship and he's someone I don't really want in my life right now." Her tone said clearly enough that she didn't feel like elaborating further. Dropping the bundle of handwrap on the side bench, she turned and sat down, using a towel to wipe the perspiration off her brow.

"What do you want, Miramon?"She suddenly seemed tired, too tired even to be angry at him. "If you're here to say hello, you've said it."

The Bajoran nodded, clearly ignoring her tone as much as possible, as though he hadn't heard the undertone of irritation. "I can understand why that might cause problems. And yes, I've said hello, but I thought maybe you'd want to talk to somebody. Hitting things is a good way to get rid of anger, but that will never help you get around the underlying problems which caused it in the first place."

Nara really was right - he ought to transfer to Counselling. For some reason he seemed to end up having this kind of conversation more and more.

Miramon might want to delay that transfer. His present attempt seemed to be going drastically unsuccessful so far, even if the blame fell more to the person who adamantly refused to be counselled. "You know what? It works for me," Ember told him flatly. She didn't see why he should be butting his nose into her business, or what he was doing here in the first place. "Is there something you want to say to me?" She asked again, for the umpteenth time, wanting him to get straight to the point. That way, he could be out of here. The sooner, the better.

"Alright. I was always led to believe that humans preferred small talk before getting down to business, but if you'd rather I talk straight, I'll do that instead." He didn't understand what was bothering her, since he'd rarely seen people lash out like she was doing because they'd been bothered by another person. Admittedly, he didn't know Ember that well, aside from in a few obvious ways, but he didn't think he'd done anything to warrant this kind of treatment. "If you must know, I was coming down here to tell you that I'll be away for a while. I've been assigned to go on an Away Mission, and though I can't give you details, I thought you deserved to know."

Ember was silent for a long while, quietly absorbing the news. He was leaving, and he had felt the need to inform her? It was unsettling. When she looked up at him again, she was matter-of-factly blunt in telling him the truth. Even if he didn't know her very well, her forthrightness was a trait that should have stood out blatantly by now. "You understand that what happened between us was just for that one night? It's over. You don't owe me any obligations, and you certainly don't need to let me know if you're going away for any duration of time. Your business's yours, my business's mine. That's where the line was, and that's where it remains… nothing has changed. You understand that, don't you?" Her gaze was level, calmly meeting his eyes.

She hated that she was doing this. It wasn't the first time, and part of her was aware that it probably would not be the last.

The flesh around Miramon's eyes tightened for a moment, making quite a contrast to his usual face, given that the nose he had now was human in appearance, as a result of the surgery he'd had to have for the mission. He had hoped that Ember wasn't going to make such an issue out of this, but clearly the first shot had been fired, and it was his job to clean up the mess. Like he hasn't been expecting that.

"I don't think you'll find I agree there, Ember. You told me to convince you that complicated relationships were better than simple ones. You may have finished with that," he said, his voice emphasising the point, "but I have not. And despite the fact that I'm usually happy to accept anything that gets thrown my way, you're wrong if you're thinking that I'm going to let this go. You deserve more than simply a fleeting liason, and you can't tell me that you prefer that until you've had chance to consider the alternatives."

Her smile was wry, and there was something vaguely sad that surfaced in her eyes. But it was gone when she shut and reopened them, replaced by a light that was more mocking and cynical. "How would you know I deserve more?" The question was rhetorical; she didn't really need an answer to that one, because she was aware of it herself. "You don't know me, Miramon." She lifted her right shoulder in a shrug, feigning nonchalance. That pronouncement seemed to suffice for her, and she stood up, turning back towards him with a cold smile.

"Because what I said to you that night, I lied." Her words were harsh, but she couldn't explain to him the elusive allure she had briefly felt, of seeking something nearing permanence, or the foggy temptation that had rose up in front of her, for a split second, which had made her almost want the impossible. "Goodbye," Ember said, and this time, she didn't look back as she walked resolutely out of the holodeck, the doors closing behind her with a 'swish'.

The Bajoran watched silently as Ember left, remaining completely silent while she did so in order to prevent him saying something he might regret later. As soon as the double-doors hissed shut, he balled his right hand into a fist and slammed it into the wall that had appeared as soon as the holographic images had disappeared. The impact hurt, but that was partly what it was supposed to do - that, and to give him an outlet for his frustrations. For some reason, he could almost understand the idea of Ember coming in here to let out her own frustrations like that.

He didn't believe what she'd said, though. He'd seen that before - a quick attempt to lash out at a person you want to push away so that wouldn't try to pursue you further. Well, that was all well and fine, but he got the impression from the night they'd spent together and, indeed, her attitude now that she didn't necessarily want that. And even if she didn't, he did.

Besides, he'd had more chance than she had to develop stubborness into an art. He'd let it go for now, but the second he got back from Hydran space, he was definately going to have to do something about it.

*****

"Three's Company, Part III"

Lieutenant Commander Ekoma Janx (APC: Matt)
TAG Analyst/Tactical Liaison

Lieutenant Commander James Corgan
Chief Of Security

Lieutenant T'Lan (APC: Dallas)
Security Deputy

*****

Location: Planetside, outside Jem'Hadar village

"Commander, I would urge caution. They are Jem'Hadar." T'lan stated.

James replied, "I know. Stand down. We're surrounded. Don't agitate them."

In a cautious stance, James saw all in front of him, and heard from the areas his vision could not reach. They were surrounded, by superior numbers. But something was not right. Their moves were not professional, their formation scattered and lose. These were not Jem'Hadar movements, or more precisely, not professional, battle-hardened Jem'Hadar.

Nonetheless, he waited tensely for the first to emerge from the wheat stalks...

And found his party ambushed by a gaggle of Jem'Hadar children. Long-haired, Jem'Hadar children, in sunhats, loose cloth, and leather, each weilding a farming impliment, sticks, plastic and wooden versions of the famous Jem'Hadar triangular one handed poleaxe, and play polaron rifles.

James split into a wide, playful little grin. He let the trigger guard of his phaser spin in his finger, as he raised his hands in surrender.

"Surrender Federation!" One of the boys ordered, acting tougher beyond his years, obviously the alpha male of the group of younglings.

James address the 'first' in a stately, jesting manner, "Alas, you mighty Jem'Hadar warriors have captured us! I assume you'll want to take us to your 'first' as a trophy of your battle prowess."

The children erupted in cheers to celebrate their mock 'victory'.

James said to the other two officers, "You can take the Jem'Hadar out of the warrior, but not the warrior out of the Jem'Hadar. Their young still have war games, isn't that something?"

Janx just rolled her eyes, while re-holstering her phaser. Children or not, they had caused her heart to triple-time. Though she had never faced a Jem'Hadar, herself, she had studied them enough to know that they weren't a force to be trivialized. "Yes, it *is* something, Commander," she said, while walking up to the 'First' of the group. "I'm Lieutnenant Commander Ekoma Janx, of the Federation starship Galaxy." She extended her hand to the youthful leader.

Meekly, the first held his hand out. He said, shy now to be so close to a 'Federation', "Mek'le'klan. First Mek'le'klan. My father is the First of the entire town. He will want to see you."

James grinned, "Look forward to the visit. Well... we're your prisoners. Lead on, First Mek'le'klan."

The children led the landing party down the valley and into the town below. Being as the first Human, Trill and Vulcan to come to the farming community, a respectable cluster of Jem'Hadar were gathered to see the new arrivals. Women and girls of all ages came out of houses, shops and stalls to watch the exotic arrivals watch bewilderingly life unfold in the first Jem'Hadar village they had seen.

Corgan was more than taken aback. He was flabbergasted! All he had seen before was the aggressive shock trooper, the snarling, hate-eyed fanatic that charged forth with polaron rifle and hand halberd in the name of their Vorta commander and changling god. He was unprepared to see civilians, whom were looking at the Starfleet officers admiringly of all things, mob them until he was surrounded in a sea of cheerful, leathery gray faces. To this he wondered how far the Jem'Hadar have come to make this peaceful transition, and how slowly his attitude has changed from the last great war. It was a shameful contrast. To make up for his fault, he tried to remain cheerful, if warily so.

He was growingly aware of the presence of dark blue suited men; a variant of the old Jem'Hadar combat grey uniform that was actually as dark as dusk sky. They held the Jem'Hadar's famous triangular hand halberd, and a piece of jewelry that looked similar to a ketracel white dispenser, but adorned with official symbols. James guessed they were the police, and though he could understand their presence, it seemed as they walked along more came. Three Federations and so many peace officers, even when Starfleet was invited? ~"Old predjudices still die hard."~ James thought.

"Pappa! Pappa!" Waved over Mek'le'klan, to a burly adult with longshoresman's arms and a barrel chest, a mountain of a man that made lithe James look absolutely anemic, "We captured some Federations! Come see!"

James waved to little Mek's father, "Good day, sir! It seems your son has caught us a bit... unprepared. I am Commander James Lionel Corgan, chief of security on the USS Galaxy. On behalf of my Captain, my ship and the United Federation of Planets, it is an honour to be here."

The boy's pappa, and James surmised, the leader of this enclave, looked down on him like the mountain his skin was shaded after (and at a full head's height over James, why not?). His eyes like granite slates, slid and scanned James over, giving an impassive, statue like appraisal that left the Mayor's opinions about the Starfleet Officers to himself.

Finally, it spoke with a funny, down home accent that was part clipped warrior tongue, part farmer from midwestern Earth. With that his demenor changed, "And on behalf of my people, welcome to the Kappel Valley settlement. I am Fektra, the First. You are our esteemed guests."

---------------------
Later that evening...
---------------------

"How is that possible?" Janx asked. Her question was punctuated by T'lan's quirked eyebrow. James was off somewhere else, but close by, talking with one of the village elders. Ever since they had entered the village, they had been greeted ...well, *warmly*. Which was a strange experience for all of the Starfleet officers.

Right now, in fact, they were participating in some sort of gathering--Janx almost would have called it a "picnic", if it weren't so surreal--Jem'Hadar mothers and fathers strolling along the grassy knolls with their...*children*. Playing, running... laughing.

Even now, one of the older Jem'Hadar named Ko'Ajur, was explaining how they came to be on this planet, and how they survived. Janx was particularly interested in how the females were able to be created, as well as sexual reproduction; both of which the Jem'Hadar weren't capable of, before.

"Simple," Ajur replied, as if he were teaching fifth-grade biology theories to a child. "Our genome--like any other species--is complete. Male, female. Reproduction. Heritage and traits. All there. The Vorta, however, had blocked those codes from our development. They edited out what they didn't want--" his leathery gray hand swept across the table they were sitting at, "--and kept those traits which were most apt to serve their needs; the warrior traits."

T'lan added, "I have noted that emotional species consume much more time and energy towards reproduction and families, a trait undesirable towards a warrior race. If you eliminate the will and the means of reproduction, you eliminate your ties to the family units formed in the cycle of mating. Those energies can be redirected, with guidance, towards more..." She paused with an intrigued, thoughtful croon, "...aggressive pursuits. Fighting units replace family units as the main source of companionship. Mating tendancies rechannelled into savagery. Adoration and love redirected towards not a lover, but a changeling or a Vorta. Facinating, even if my rather sparse comparison does it no justice."

It was a logical explanation, of course. But what else could Janx expect, from a Vulcan. The Trill was about to add her own observations to the exchange, when shouting erupted from nearby.

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

Night was beginning to fall on the small village of "free" Jem'Hadar. The rogue and his men looked on in silence, unmoving. They had recieved their orders from their First, and were awaiting the proper timing.

"They are Starfleet, Second, as the First had said." his Third informed. "A Vulcan, a Trill, and a human."

The second nodded in approval. Using only hand signals, they moved out through the tallgrass, moving into weapons range. If it weren't for the fact of the transporter inhibitors in the area, they would have just beamed in, taken their bounty, and beamed out.

But the Second didn't mind. This was a more...*honorable* abduction, he thought.

"Move," he commanded his squad.

-----------------------
Meanwhile...
-----------------------

Despite James misgivings about the Jem'Hadar, he was enjoying himself.

Fektra, though as big as a Terran ox and deepvoiced as a shifting gravel pit, proved to be infectiously humourous and good natured. His bulk moved fluidly as he greeted from village person to village person, introducing James Corgan to his wife, his two other sons and one daughter, the local apothecary, blacksmith, tinkerer and surveyor, and a gamut of others that James lost track. They were all eager to see the human, and they peppered James with questions that only former enemies asked. He answered them all with flattered shyness, glad to talk instead of shoot at his former enemy.

With them was still that omnipresent escort of blue suited warriors with pikes and rifles. James wondered if, in such a peaceful agrarian setting, the armed guards were necessary. He dismissed it as old paranoia, and hoped he was first to dispell it.

He saw aliens in the crowd. Romulans, from the look of it, and three of them watching the scene. They stood apart of the outdoor banquet, and were not much interest to the other Jem'Hadar. One of them even sneered, while another laughed in James direction. They all shared the same joke and laughed even harder.

~"What's up with them?"~ James asked himself, but was dragged into another milling of people by Fektra. There James met a foreman with incredible wit, and a couple of their police. But after awhile even the Jem'Hadar, having meet their first live human, decided to disperse to go back to eating, and left Fektra and James to talk.

"Fektra, I must hand it to you." James shook the First's hand after another round of greetings, "You have quite the town here, and your people are so friendly. I have never expected this."

Fektra gave James an odd look, and said, "Did you expect our old hatreds to return, and find yourself and your colleagues butchered and spitted on the end of our pikes?"

James turned greet at Fektra's bluntness, "Why..." He countered with straightforwardness of his own, "I expected you people to take out years of hatred on us. I'm no fool, Fektra. I was a veteran of the Dominion War, and from the look of you, you have seen a few battles yourself. Old habits die hard."

Fektra grumbled, "Come with me."

James was led into a quieter street, and with nighttime setting down, he could feel dusk all over him. It was slightly chilled, but somehow refreshing. Yet Fektra, he was a mountain, and one that slowly rumbled, to what his rage would awaken to James didn't want to know.

But finally, Fektra did speak, steady and grim, "I was a veteran of the Romulan front, Commander. I was there when we lost, and I still feel the betrayal of my people for using use like fodder to this day. When I came here, with hope from our leader to not be dependant on the Founders and the Vorta, I was more than willing. We may be a warrior race, but we will not throw ourselves away for war anymore. We have homes, children, our legacy recaptured, our bonds broken. We will not waste that which we have reclaimed on war."

The Jem'Hadar first looked James in the eye, "Will that be enough to alleviate your suspicions?"

Fektra's glint , his defensiveness, the way he loomed over James brought his hackles up. There was something off, and his years of instinct was telling him this. He said, "Only time can do that. I may have my misgivings, but I was also willing to put myself in unknown danger for peaceful co-existence. My intentions are there for you to see. Yours?"

"You can trust us."

"Good." James smiled at Fektra, who smiled back, "What's next?"

"Next..." Fektra grimaced, for a split second his tone turning sinister, "We see how true your intentions are."

James said, "You don't play poker, do you? Back off."

Fektra countered, "No, you stand down. Start by removing your fancy sidearm."

The chief of security snarled, "F**king make me."

*snap*

James dropped down to the ground when he heard the twig snap, crouching low and sweeping his foot out to kick out Fektra's kneecap. The mountain of a Jem'Hadar bellowed when the blow landed, collapsing both legs from under him as James brought a palm forward under his jaw. James felt the Jem'Hadar's scaly skin, its ridges abrasively brush his hand as he brought the giant down.

He drew his phaser, its midnight black and gold flashing in the dull light. Firing a shot at the sound of the twig branch, he stunned a Jem'Hadar youth as it tried to bring a rifle in his direction. Where the youth fell, two more came with polaron rifles, spitting gray glowing balls of fire at James. he ducked between two water barrels, the polaron rifles splashing fountains into the air.

"Corgan to away team!" James smacked his badge, as if the strength of the hit would urge it to communicate faster, "Ambush! GET OUT OF THERE!" When he went to send the message, his badge faltered, the outright protested. Static dominated the line. "Corgan to away team! Evacuate!" He tried again, popping off two shots to pin the Jem'Hadar after him. He noticed more on the way. "Corgan to Galaxy! I am under attack by local forces! Respond!"

Then he heard a tocking... as a round, metallic object bounced over his cover, and into his lap.

"Oh... shii.."

A flash of light, and he was over.

-----------------------
Back at the clearing...
-----------------------

Janx knew that the Vulcan had heard it too. Her superior hearing had, no doubt, informed her of the muffled yelling that had come from beyond one of the near hills. Then, silence.

Immediately, Janx was on her feet, phaser drawn. Several of the Jem'Hadar women were beginning to move away from the pavilion, hurriedly carrying or dragging their children with them. "What was that?" Janx asked, looking to T'lan, who also had her own phaser drawn.

T'lan thumb adjusted her phaser to heavy stun, her eyes scanning hills ahead. "Voices. I am unsure of what they are saying."

The older Jem'Hadar, the one that had been telling them about the genetic manipulation, motioned for them to follow him, quickly. "Bandits," he explained. "A few of the first-generation's offspring have broken off from our group, and went renegade. From time to time they come here and harass us. We should go."

T'lan did not move. "I insist that we find our superior officer. It is my duty to protect him."

Janx tapped her commbadge, "Commander Corgan, respond. There is a hostile force approaching our position, return to the pavilion, immediately. Respond, please!"

["***organ to away team...] The comm badge warbled, static drowing out the chief of security's voice, ["..mbu.. get..out..."] Then in a rude cut of interference, the comm badge decided to deactivate.

"Commander?!" Janx tried the commchannel again, but now it was only static. Quickly, she pulled out her tricorder, scanning for his biosigns, or his commlock.

T'lan wasted no time. She was already running to the streets, "I heard polaron fire. We must not waste time."

Janx watched as the other Jem'Hadar completed their retreat, leaving only a few of the men with the two Starfleet officers. "Let's go, we've got to find him." Janx said as she moved off into the nightfall.

T'lan watched the constabulary watch them. Their stance was instantly turning aggressive, advancing forward with hand weapon and rifles, all serious about their intended use. "Our intentions, though well thought, are ill timed. We are surrounded."

The police officers, steady in their advance as they were in their aggression, ignored Commander Janx. They were starting to eagerly toy with the weapons in their hands, assured of victory. One, the leader of the pack, juggled a stun grenade in his hand like a baseball.

He warned, "You are outnumbered and surrounded. Fire on us and dozens more fire on you. Move and you die. This will be momentary, so wait."

The Jem'Hadar cop depressed the trigger on the stun grenade, then rolled it to Janx feet, as dozens of rifles trained on the officers. They watched, amused, as the grenade's countdown timer cycled to zero, then covered their eyes as it flashed off.

"The Phantom Menace"

With Lt. Raven Darkstar, Tactical
and Ambassador Leo Streely, former Jedi Knight.

Along time ago in a galaxy far away.....

In the year 2264, an untested and newly minted Starfleet Captain named James Kirk addressed his crew on the bridge of the USS ENTERPRISE. The ship was embarking on what was to become a historic five year mission of exploration filled with countless adventures and dangers. It was during his address that young Captain Kirk declared the ENTERPRISE would be seeking out new life and new civilizations. Then Kirk spoke the words that would go on to become more then inspiration for those who wore a Starfleet uniform. They would become a creed for Captain's everywhere who looked at the stars and yearned to unlock thier secrets.

Kirk vowed to "boldly go where no man has gone before".

Little did he know then that over one hundred years later, the USS GALAXY, soaring the cosmos as the ENTERPRISE once did, would have stumbled across an uncharted planet on the fringes of a nebula. A planet inhabited by one of the Federations most lethal enemies, living in an unnatural bliss.

It is on this strange new world that Kirk's proclamation has taken a whole new meaning.

For moments ago, the USS GALAXY transporter Chief made a slight, one degree miscalculation and rematerialized Lt. Raven Darkstar, the ship's Indian Tactical officer and Starfleet Ambassador Leo Streely nearly thirty feet above the ground and into the branches of one of the massive trees that make up the landscape of the large continent of BaNoo, in the southern hemisphere of the planet, far from the largest settlement of Jem Hidar on the other side of the planet.

Naturally, as with everything the duo does, things got a little more complicated.

"Not one word." Darkstar growled at Leo. His knuckles grew whiter as he gripped the tree branch he was hanging from a little tighter. The bark bit harshly into the thick skin on his palms.

When they materialized, Raven quickly grabbed the thick limb to keep from falling. Leo had grabbed onto the only thing he could find: Darkstar's waistband. While countless everyday objects had benefited from the advancement of science and technology, Starfleet trousers were not one of them.

This meant that Leo had nearly pulled Darkstar's pants clean off except the Indian hooked his leg upwards at the last moment, knotting the pants around his right ankle, allowing him to suspend the smaller man from his leg.

"Look, it ain't no picnic down here, OK?" Streely said clutching the Indian's pants. "I'm the one who has a worm's eye view of your medicine bag!"

"LEO!!" Darkstar bellowed, shakinging the branch he was hanging from and exhaling sharply.

"WHAT YOU THINK I LIKE HANGING AROUND LIKE THIS?? JUST GET US DOWN....AW CHRIST!!! HOW CAN YOU BE AROUSED AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!?! WHAT KIND OF SICK CREEP...."

"SHUT UP!!!" Darkstar boomed, shaking leaves of the tree and sending birds screeching through the air. "It's just the way the wind is blowing." Below him, Leo shuddered and clutched the pants a little tighter. Off in the distance, Darkstar could hear an unnatural din growing. He strained his ears and tried to focus on the growing noise.

"IM JUST SAYIN." Leo protested.

"SILENCE!!! "Darkstar boomed.

"WE BEEN FRIENDS FOR A LONG TIME BUT YOU START THIS 'SILENCE' SHIT AND WE'RE GONNA HAVE ISSUES. REAL ISSUES. KARYN DALLAS ISSUES, OK?"

"GODS GIVE ME STRENGTH!" Darkstar said, then released his hold on the branch. The pair fell straight down, snapping branches and crashing through the thick leafy canopy as they tumbled until finally hitting the bottom of the Forest floor.

"Leo, are you all right?" Darkstar asked, taking stock of his body and finding nothing broken or sprained.

"NO IM NOT ALL RIGHT!! I THINK IM PARALYZED AND I HAVE A NAKED INJUN ON TOP OF ME!! DOES THAT SHIT SOUND REMOTELY NORMAL TO YOU, EH? FUCK!! YOU CAN BET THIS WILL BE IN MY REPORT TO BHRODE, PAL."

Darkstar pulled his pants back up and placed a palm on the ground.

He could feel tremors.

"Leo run."

"Oh you just jump on me with your pants down and you expect me to .." Streely started before Raven cut him off.

"RUN!!" Raven yelled as a Romulan Troop Transport crashed through the forest. Leo, bolted as though his ass were aflame. Darkstar ran right as the transport drove past him, leapt a ravine and crashed headlong into a floppy reptilian creature. The two fell to the ground, limbs flying every where.

As the transport rumbled past, Raven dislodged himself from the creature who was flapping his lips and froglike tongue about.

"Oh muy muy! I love you!!" it said.

"What are you brainless? You almost got us killed." Darkstar replied. He took a moment to brush the dirt from his uniform and then started off towards the direction Leo had ran.

The native creature followed him.

"I speaks a don't I?" the creature muttered in his weird cadence that was beginning to grate on Darkstar like nails on a chalkboard.

Darkstar paused and glared at the thing.

"Speaking is not a sign of intelligence. Now get out of here before you get hurt."

"No no! Missar called Raj Raj Kinks." it said, spittle flying and eyes crossing.

Leo suddenly came screaming out of the forest, robes flapping as phaser fire streaked by. Behind him, Raven was amazed to see two Fembots shooting at them. Leo flipped a phaser to Darkstar as he raced past and took cover behind a nearby boulder. The tactical officer took aim with the phaser and hit the Fembots in thier chests with two short bursts of phaser fire. They exploded in a brilliant cascade of sparks.

As the smoke cleared, Raj Raj flopped over and clapped his hands.

"Yousa saved my life!" the alien cried.

"Nice shooting, Tex." Leo said.

"You know I dislike phasers." Darkstar said.

"Couldn't prove it with that shot. I didn't know that you had expert marksman stamped into your bio. Who's this?"

"A local. We better get out of here fast. Someone is going to notice that those two Fembots will not return. I sense our time runs short. We must seek cover and investigate." the Indian uttered as he knelt down to look at the Fembot's husks.

"Don't you think we should seek transport and forget?" Leo asked.

The Indian ignored him and began to walk away from the creature when it cried out in it's irritating, Crusher like whine.

"Excuse me! I'm over here! I think the safest place is in my home city."

"A city?" Darkstar said, stopping in his tracks.

"Uh huh." Raj Raj said, his tongue slipping into his nostril.

"You will take us there." Darkstar ordered.

"No." Raj said.

"No?" Leo said, utterly amazed. "Did this floppy bastard say no? Slap the Indian deathlock on him."

"Indian Deathlock?"

Leo frowned. "Don't tell me that you are the only indian in existance who doesn't know how to do the indian deathlock?"

Darkstar looked at Raj Raj. "You will take us to your city. Leo will pay you if need be."

"THE HELL I WILL!!!! YOU PONY UP THE WAMPUM IF YOU NEED IT!!!"

"It's embarrassing. I was banished because I's a did a big boo boo. At least thatsa what the bosses said. I canna go back. The bosses would do terrible things to be. Terrible things." Raj Raj said, shuddering.

The rumbling grew loud again. Apparently the troop transport was on it's way back towards them.

"Do you hear that?" Darkstar asked. "That is the sound of the hundred terrible things coming your way. I have seen Fembots on a Romulan transport. Someone is going to want to keep us from talking. The easiest way to do that is to turn us all into corpses."

"When they find us, they will crush us. Grind us into a thousand pieces and blast us into space. Do you wanna be crushed by whatever Phantom Menace is behind this crazy shit?" Leo asked.

"Your point is well said." Raj Raj blubbered. "Come with me...hurry."

"Where are we going?" Darkstar asked as he watched the reptile move into the lake.

"Under the water. Better hold your breath"

Dr. Artim - PhD,MD, and certified dweeb
Dr. Valera t'Serov , lover of dweebs

"You Call This a Date"

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

After Karik'itan ran off with Raynor hot, or at least on his heels, Artim and Valera were finally alone. Well, there were the dozen or so Jem'hadar in the room, but they didn't really count. At least Raynor and his smart mouth were gone. He was off doing his shadowy spy stuff, what he was good at. Now Artim and Valera could do what they were good at, being total nerds.

OK, so maybe the term was a bit old fashioned, but it fit them both to a T. Both had rather rough childhoods, Valera's parents whose profession Artim couldn't quite remember were killed in a Klingon attack on neutral zone outposts when she was only 12. She went to live with relatives on ch'Riran who mistreated her. Like Artim, she found comfort in books, in study, and in all things that made one a dweeb as the humans called such people. Like Artim, she tried to escape it for awhile as she sold her services as a zoologist and geneticist to whoever would hire her. That's how she met Artim. Like Artim she ultimately ended up in the Romulan Navy, though she didn't really enjoy it.

The Jem'hadar lacky whom Karik'itan had left them with pointed out some rather uninteresting things, or at least things that Artim didn't care about. The Miran just nodded and acted interested, however it didn't take long for Valera to find something that was interesting. She walked over to a table where two Jem'hadar were examining a large insect.

"So that's the vermin we've been hearing about. I was hoping to see one in person before I left! The poison from this thing has had our medics stumped for days, and that's saying something!", she gleefully, for a Romulan, exclaimed. Entemology was another hobby of hers. Artim just stared at the bug that was nearly as big as he was. He wasn't a big fan of bugs to begin with. Large ones that could kill you weren't much better.

"Fascinating",was all that Artim could say as he wandered over towards a series of fernlike plants, one of which seemed to reach out and feel him. Creepy from a plant, but a hell of alot cooler then those stupid bugs.

"Hey Valera, check this out. I think it likes me!" as the plant by now was reaching out and tickling the back of his neck. Seeing this, the Jem'hadar guide quickly grabbed a blade and cut off the piece of the plant that was reaching for him.

"Actually, it was trying to eat you. These have killed several of us. If you don't cut it, it strangles you in a few seconds. " , the Jem'hadar said as if he'd had a bad run in with this plant.

"Is there anything native to this planet that doesn't try and eat you?" Artim said glaring at the plant.

"Plenty, but there's no need to study those. They aren't a threat." , the Jem'hadar replied.

"You're not going to get far that way." Valera said looking up from the bug "Great discoveries often come from studying things that aren't a threat."

"Wise man once said Valera, necessity is the mother of invention. Fighting things that threaten have often led to greater discoveries. Perhaps the Jem'hadar mentality isn't all bad in that respect." It fealt weird for Artim to defend the Jem'hadar, but what he said was true. The need to survive was the greatest necessity of all and that's what the Jem'hadar had been doing and they had come a long way. Hopefully the samples Mr. Raynor was getting would tell them just how far.

"I hate to rush you, but we are very busy. I think its best that you be going now. Your collegue, where did he go?", the Jem'hadar inquired

"Probably to look for the bathroom, he does that alot.", Artim said not having to think about a response.

"Very well. I'll bring him out when he's done. Have a nice stay here.'" he replied as he showed the two back to the exit where Artim was happily reunited with his phaser. Once out of the building, Valera and Artim walked a short distance to a place where they weren't likely to be heard.

"How good is he, this Raynor?" , Valera inquired.

"Good enough, despite his outward appearance and behavior. He'll get what we need. How's your analysis coming?" , the Miran relied.

"Not good. Warbirds don't carry the kind of equipment required to do a detailed genetic analysis. However..."

"The Galaxy sure as hell does. Up for another coventure?"

"I'll have to talk to the commander, but I doubt she'll mind."

"I doubt Captian Henderson will either. "

"I'll contact you when I have clearance, be well Artim."

"Indeed, and it was a lovely date Valera, lovely indeed."

"You call this a date?", the Romulan said with a chuckle as she noded and waked away.

[Backpost]

"The Only Way"

(Occurs 24 hours before "Fear and Loathing, Lung Vacant")

Principle Characters:

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Holo-Indigo

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 11
Holosuite 2

Being the genius that she was, Samantha Widdlestein had figured out the algorithms, variables, and everything else necessary for programs to open at will in other programs.

Of course, the holographic representation of Indigo Renkert didn't think there was anything smart about this idea at all. In fact, as she found herself standing in the middle of one of Victor's training programs, she decided that it was a really, really non-smart idea indeed.

Something came flying at her and the hologram screamed.

****

Screams were nothing new to Victor, he'd heard them all his life. Children, women, men, small animals, fearful, angered, he'd grown up with them. He'd heard so many, in fact, that by the time he reached the Academy he had more experience with the vocal range of the Federation's most commonly-encountered humanoid species than the average opera impresario. Now in his thirties, when combined with the hunting that he'd done, he could

identify the general species, age, and sex of most screamers he encountered, whether they were humanoid or animal.

This one was female, human, in her twenties... and someone that had no business being where she was - or being anywhere at all, for that matter.

=/\= "Computer: Freeze program." =/\=

The holograms about him froze in mid-motion, defying several laws of physics, motion, and gravity in the process.

Frowning, he glared at the individual that was out of place, her bikini top, shorts, and sandals making her look more wrong than even her appearance alone managed given the scenario's wartime setting and the conflict between Starfleet personnel and Jem'Hadar raging around her.

"You're dead," he said in his quiet, toneless way.

"Indigo Renkert's dead." The hologram agreed. "I'm a holographic representation of her. What's this program of?"

"An engagement I fought in during the Dominion War. The planet didn't have a name, just a number, and neither did the battle."

"Ah," Indigo replied, drawing a face. "No wonder you look all Rambo-fied. Ever thought of doing some kind of relaxing program, like yoga or pilates?"

"I've never been attacked by a pilatist or a yogarian," Victor returned.

Holo-Indy blinked. "You told a joke. She told me that you could but I guess I never really believed it." The hologramed filed the information away for a day when Ella was unhappy.

Victor frowned. "I never joke. Not unless I'm trying to make someone mad so that it'll be easier to kill them."

"Sound philosophy." Indigo said, rolling her eyes as she turned to look at the frozen Jem'Hadar around her. "But what I meant was maybe you should try some simulation other than battles or training? You're going to stock up on the bad karma if you keep all this negative energy around, you know."

"I have and I do."

"Stock up on bad karma?" Indy asked as she walked around a phaser blast frozen in midair.

He shook his head. "No, not karma. I have and I do utilize non-combat training simulations."

"Military history lessons don't count." Indy said. Still, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity the hologram had, even if she wasn't technically alive. Both Ella and Samantha Widdlestein could benefit from any insight into Victor Krieghoff's head.

"I don't do well at those, so I don't take them. I prefer classes where you actually *do* something: maintenance on shuttles, language lessons, operating mining drills." He shrugged. "I have more training hours logged than anyone currently aboard the ship if you count them all."

"Hmm..." Indigo said. "She would be pleased I think. Bloodshed 24/7 is bad for you."

Victor tilted his head to the side and looked at the hologram. "She who? And why are you here, anyway? You do know that you're a violation of seven regulations, don't you?"

Indy grinned. "I've always been a rebel. I blame my artistic nature."

"No one rebels against natural laws without help," Victor countered. "But dead is still dead, no matter who helps you." He frowned. "She who?"

The hologram tilted her head as well. "You're not a stupid man, scary as hell but not stupid. Who do you think I mean?"

There really was only one person the hologram could mean. "Lieutenant Grey."

"She worries about you, you know," Indigo said, holding up her hand as Victor opened her mouth to speak. "Yes, Krieghoff, I know you don't believe me so don't even go there."

"What she does, or doesn't do isn't important." The words came easily enough that Victor almost didn't notice them as they slipped into the void inside him and fell away into nothingness.

"To you, perhaps," Indigo said with a shrug. "That doesn't mean she doesn't worry."

"She doesn't have a reason to." The Lieutenant had made that clear enough after Mirusa VI.

"You really are dense." The hologram said.

Victor frowned. "Is there a reason that you're here, program?" he asked, ignoring her last words. People called him names all the time; even before he became hollow and pulled things people said into the nothingness inside him to be lost, unheard, he'd learned to ignore them.

"Ooh, that's what we call evasive and defensive. Your aura is definitely all splotchy." Holo-Indy told him with a smile and then shrugged. "I was programmed to be curious so I thought I'd check out what you were doing."

"The Lieutenant didn't send you, did she? I told the last one she sent that she could just tell Lieutenant Grey that I said whatever it was that the Lieutenant wanted to get me to say - it was easier for everyone that way."

"Well, that was very nice of you." Indy commented.

Victor wasn't certain that he'd ever been 'nice,' and suspected that the program wasn't. "You didn't answer the question," he observed.

"Hmmm... I didn't, huh? Well, not like it matters anyway because what she does or doesn't do isn't important." Indigo turned to inspect a flying soldier. "Does a phaser really do *that*?"

Victor glanced at the frozen image. "It can, if on the right setting. Modern phasers work on a different principle than the old-style models did; the first phasers had no physical impact because of their beam structure, but the modern ones do. That's not a phaser, though - it's a polaron beam from a Jem'Hadar rifle."

"Polar what? Ah, never mind. It would probably conflict with my programming." Indigo looked around the program and frowned. "Don't suppose you want to change it to something less... intense."

Victor frowned. "Why?"

"I'm dead, Krieghoff." Indy said dryly. "But I still wouldn't mind a little good cheer."

"I don't know that I do anything that a program would find 'cheerful,'" Victor said. "Or a living person for that matter."

"Hmmm... we can work with that." Indy said thoughtfully. "If you were in a cheerful, or maybe to use a less cotton candy adverb, happy place, where would it be?"

Victor thought a moment, then another, and yet another. Finally, he said, =/\= "Computer, cancel program. Load Krieghoff Delta Delta Seven Niner."=/\=

The combat scenario faded away to be replaced by a green, dense jungle. Animal sounds filled the air, and the light was diffuse and soft as it filtered through the canopy overhead. "Here," he replied quietly.

"Interesting," Holo-Indy said, filing the information away. "And yet it fits. What do you do here?"

In the distance, something let loose a deep, booming roar, stilling the normal jungle sounds for a moment. "I hunt," Victor replied in his toneless way, "and am hunted."

"Ah, figures."

"What figures?"

"That you hunt." Indy shrugged. "That that would be something that makes you happy; I didn't seem likely you'd come here to bask in the sun."

Victor looked at her blankly. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Relaxation?"

"Yes." The hologram made as much sense as a normal person - whoever programmed it had done a good job.

The holographic Indy looked doubtful. "How can you relax if you're like, all grrrrr?"

Victor frowned at the shorter hologram. "Because I'm not like you - or like you used to be. People gain satisfaction from doing what they're good at, from being true to themselves... and I'm a hunter. A killer. It's what I do, what I am. You, when you were real, and most of the others aboard the ship, aren't killers. You're sheep. That's why Starfleet gave you to me - to keep the other predators away - including myself. So I hunt here."

Holo-Indy frowned, trying to process this data. The trouble was that she was working off of files that incorporated a sixteen-year-old's view of what the world should be like which was something like a daytime soap opera with commercials full of Klingon violence.

"What do you hunt?" She asked slowly.

That was, at least, a different question, Victor noted. "Animals," he answered. "Predators, like me. Things that will hunt me back. Andorian Ice Bears, Terran Lions and Tigers, Cappellan Power Cats - things like that. I hunt in the wild, for real, when I can, but those opportunities are fewer than I would like. The holosuites have to do, even if they aren't real."

Indigo tried to process this as well. She could almost see both Sam and Ella shrugging their shoulders. "Why would you want something to hunt you?"

"Because I'm too good at it to enjoy anything else," Victor tried. When the hologram continued to look at him blankly, he tried again. "Because it's what I am." No change in expression. "To be alive," he finally tried.

Holo-Indy frowned. "I suppose it would be hard just to live to protect people. But I can think of way better things, dude."

Expecting an unreal, computerized duplicate of someone to understand something that most real, living people didn't had been, Victor decided. As the emptiness inside him yawned and stretched, filling him up until he was a hollow shell, he also realized that it didn't matter. "You weren't like me, even when you were real," he pointed out. "The things you did weren't the ones I would do. Expecting them to be would be pointless."

"I'll buy that." Indigo said. "If you buy that expecting certain people to not care about you is just as pointless. Well, its been an... interesting experience, Krieghoff. I think I'm going to go pop over into another program for a looksee. See you around."

Victor looked at the program's graphic representation for a moment. "You know that you're illegal," he pointed out quietly. "I'll have to report you, so they can track you down and erase you.

Indigo looked stricken. "I really wish you wouldn't do that, Krieghoff. She still needs me."

Someone needed the program? Victor thought about that for a moment, then decided that it had to be the same person that had written it. "Who?" he asked tonelessly. It didn't really matter, he was still going to have to report the illicit program, it just meant that it would be easier to have it tracked down if the author and prime user was known.

She gave him a look like he was stupid, something the real Indy would never have dared to do while she was alive. "Ella, of course. Ella needs me."

Lieutenant Grey. Of course, that made sense. She'd been the program's best friend back when the program was a real person. That didn't excuse the offense, but it at least made sense. He considered the program a moment longer. "Why?"

"Why does anyone need anyone, Krieghoff?" the hologram asked. "She was hurting and you weren't around to tell her that it was going to be okay."

Since Lieutenant Grey had made it clear that she didn't need - or want - Victor to tell her anything, that statement seemed foolish, even when he considered that it was coming from a program that was an imperfect copy of a dead woman. "It doesn't matter who made you, or why," Victor said tonelessly. "I have to report you, you know that."

"I know you think that." Indy replied with a shrug. "And if you want to be an unfeeling bastard about it that's your prerogative."

"What I think or don't think doesn't matter," Victor replied, wondering why he was trying to explain himself to a computer program. "There's just what is, nothing more."

"Why?"

"Because that's all there is. You're a program, lines of code written by someone that didn't want their dead friend to be gone; that's all you are, all that is. I'm a predator, something that the sheep have tried to breed out of the species since they started gathering in herds and called their pastures cities; that's all I am. Pretending that you - or I - is anything else is useless, pointless, because we're not anything else."

Intrigued, Indigo sat down. "Why can't we be more? Why can't I be something more than programming and you be something more than a predator? Who says so?"

It was so obvious, so simple really - but maybe that was why the program didn't see it, because it couldn't, not being real. "Because you can't change what you are, what you were created to be. Nothing you do will ever make you more than a program, and nothing I do will ever make me something besides a predator. The best you can do, assuming you were written for it, is to change the type of program that you are, that's all. Nothing I can do will ever change the fact that I'm a predator. I can change who and what I prey on, but that's all. Wanting more than that is a waste of time."

The hologram frowned. 'Well, as a program, I don't really want for anything. But I still don't see why you can't be a predator and something else. *You're* not a program."

"Of course I am - in my case it's genetic, and not digital, but the programming is there all the same."

"Programs upgrade." Indigo said in an 'a-ha, gotcha' fashion. "So there's no reason why you can't be a killer and something else."

"Except that I'm not something else."

"I think you're just being stubborn." She said. "You don't *want* to be anything else."

Even programs didn't listen. Maybe he should have brought a padd to the holosuite. "Like I said before, I don't deal in ifs, or maybes, or might-be's, or want-to-be's; there's no point in it. There's only what is, nothing more," Victor shrugged. The roaring of the wind falling into the hole inside him was like the ocean in a seashell.

The program considered for a moment. "Do you know that, if you look at it a certain way, everyone in the universe right now is alive because of their genes? Just think about it, of the billions of species that have bought the big one, mankind has come down from the trees, cut down the trees, and made it to outer space. You're alive today (you know excluding the possibility of sheer dumb luck of course) because your ancestors survived the Black Plague, made it through the world wars, didn't get vaporized or borgified or anything like that. It's all about adaptation, evolution, and momentum, my friend. "

Victor supposed there was a point to that, but it was too much effort to fight the emptiness inside him to try and find it. "I'm not your friend."

"Meaning that if you don't change something eventually, you're going to go the way of the dinosaurs. Nothing in the universe remains the same forever, Krieghoff. Nothing."

Oh, that was the point. Death. He understood that. "Everything dies," he replied tonelessly. "People, cultures, civilizations, stars - everything. Sooner or later, after I report you, you'll die. Sooner or later I'll die. There's nothing scary about it, nothing to worry or fear. It just is. Like me."

"I'm talking about death of the soul, dude." Indigo said and then shook her head. "You could drive a saint to drink, you do realize that right?"

"I've never met a saint," Victor said tonelessly. "And drinking isn't what people are normally heading to do after they meet me."

"Well, I'm going to go enjoy my computerized life while it lasts." The hologram said. "It'd be nice if you'd allow me to say goodbye to Ella before you pull the plug though. I think it would hurt her less."

"I'm not pulling anything - that'll be up to whoever gets the work order. All I'm doing is reporting that you exist. After that, you're not my problem..." he looked at the program for a moment intently, "unless you make yourself my problem."

Holo-Indy blinked. "And how would I do that?"

"Hurt someone. Hunt in my territory."

"That whole "I decide who lives or dies" shtick is getting kinda old, Krieghoff," the program said.

The roaring that filled his head all the time now, the sound of the emptiness inside him drawing everything in, almost drowned out the words Victor replied with, "It's as old as Time. Someone always decides. Even a program should know that."

Indigo shrugged. "Doesn't mean that its the right way to go about it, Krieghoff." She gave the man a sad smile before she popped off in a sort of magician like cloud of purple smoke.

"No," Victor said after a moment, as he cancelled his program and made a mental note to report the program. "It's the only way... for me."

OOC: Backpost. Took place right after "The Insomnia Factor - Part 1 "

"The Insomnia Factor - Part 2"

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer

Second Lieutenant Branwen London
Furies Chief Psychologist

Lieutenant (J.G.) Michael McDowell
Engineering Officer

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

"It seems your doctor is not available," Branwen said after they had come to sickbay, "Let me see if Kimberly has time, she is the new CMO."

Michael simply nodded. He didn't mind which Doctor would help him, as long as there was at least one around that could indeed help.

Branwen went over to her new friends' office and knocked on the door.

"Yeah!" Kimberly called out a little absently, her mind and attention focused on the reports she was both reading and writing simultaneously, looking up as the door opened she smiled, "Hey there, how's you?" she asked.

"I'm fine. I need some advice for a patient of mine." Branwen explained the situation. "Say something non addictive just for a few nights to help Michael sleep I think."

"Well there's several things we can try," Kimberly mused aloud, "but as long as you're both aware that this is only for a few days, long term use of sleeping medication isn't something I'd advise, nor condone..." thinking a moment, "for a couple of days though, let's try an Alpha-Wave inducer," she suggested.

"That is what I said as well." Branwen said approvingly. "Nothing too addictive."

Michael frowned slightly. His brain seemed to work twice as slow. Tirednes was a major foe. "Alpha-Wave inducer? Just what is that again exactly? I know the rough idea, but the rest I can't recall."

"It's a small device you'll wear while you sleep, it helps by targeting the sleep centres of your brain and stimulating sleep, it's only meant for very short term use, but it'll avoid us starting you on chemicals and give you a chance to have a nights sleep," Kimberly explained.

"A few nights of sleep. That's sounds just about heaven to me." he sat down on a nearby chair and while he did so he added, "I would give about anything for that."

"I think we should be able to help you there, but for the first night, might I suggest you sleep here in sickbay so we can calibrate the inducer to you, and monitor your brainwaves, make sure everything else is okay..." Kimberly offered.

"I don't mind sleeping here. Right now, I even wouldn't mind sleeping in the brig." Michael stood up slowly from his chair. "Just don't wake me too ealy in the morning."

"I will leave you to work things out with the doctor." Branwen said. "I would like to see you in a few days time."

Michael rather had she'd said 'in a few weeks', because it felt he could sleep for that long. "Yes,....see you in a few days." he said as he fixed his eyes on one of the biobed and began walking to it. Sleep was all what was on his mind.

"Double Helix, Part II"

STARRING:

Vice-Legate Kylar Curran
Commander James Corgan
Lieutenant Commander Ekoma Janx
Lieutenant Ella Grey
Lieutenant JG Nieca Rey'ol
Second Lieutenant Branwen London
Corporal Falkor Vox

WITH:

Gral'mev Reth'agn'ir
Qui'mereth Ev'b'ohn

AND:

The "Traitor", Anna O'Shea

== Scientific Warfare Chamber ==

< Continued from Part I... >

~Oath breaking b*tch...~ Corgan weakly thought, unable to speak in the liquid stasis pod. The expression of recognition and anger that twisted his features left no question as to what he was thinking.

"Don't be mad... I played everyone. Starfleet wouldn't give me what I wanted. The Hydrans will give me a glorious ship of my own...I can just take it." Anna O'Shea said, then snickered.

Turning she walked over at Branwen. "Betcha wish Baile Boy was here to bail your ass out, huh?" She said, loving to taunt them.

"Remember, Henderson is mine when we get him." Anna said, to those working on the subjects.

Gral'mev Reth'agn'ir, the male in command of the Scientific Warfare Lab's research division turned to face the human. "You would do well to remember your place, abomination. What power we gave you, so too can we take away. Warlord N'fth'nor will not suffer you defiling his rival. If you are finished gloating, you may leave. We have work to do. Or have you forgotten how this works?"

Reth'agn'ir let the implication hang in the air for a moment, his hand resting pointedly on the grip of the pulse rifle that lay next to his desk. Fear was the only way to keep traitors in line. Even traitors of your own creation.

"You will do well to remember who just delivered them here for your experiments." Anna said as she looked at him. "I'm the one that risked my life to bring the Galaxy here.. I'm the one that has been sending you all data and I am the one that did that for nearly a year... spare me your threats." Anna said, then glanced at Reth'agn'ir. Rolling her eyes she then turned and headed for the door. "I only did what you all have failed to do on your own." She said then exited through the doors.

"Exactly," Reth muttered as he continued to program the equipment. The clone was insufferably arrogant. He could only imagine what the original had been like before she was broken. "You did what we programmed you to do."

------------
Meanwhile...
------------

Inside the first pod, the humanoid slowly drifted back to consciousness. Thinking he had been dreaming of being imprisoned in a bath of murky liquid, his eyes regained focus into what he imagined were his quarters, dark, and without gravity.

He began to call out to the computer for an update as to what had occurred on the ship, and why, when he came to the notion that he wasn't supposed to be on the starship, but on Junction. His instinct was to tap his communication badge, but for some unknown reason he couldn't move. It was then that he came to realize he wasn't on the ship, or a stateroom on Junction, but the nightmare he'd been having was his true reality.

Even his eyes couldn't move; the lids had been forced open even as his subconscious was pushed back to the recesses of his mind, giving way to the globules of imagery that moved before him.

His heart slowed... his breathing came back into a rhythm with the pump that forced air into his respiratory system. The large blob before him shifted and gave way to a luminescent light that penetrated the warm liquids that washed over him. It wasn't bright at all; it was more the type of light drawn into the natural waters of a seascape by the morning dawn, when the rays of a sun cascaded across still waters and into the cool depths of a coral-studded terrain. The glint of the light's focal point as if peering from below the ocean fringe that danced off the myriad of colors in the flora and marine life that awoke with the morning from inside the ecosystem.

He couldn't discern the shapes ahead of him, but he knew he wasn't in any water-based natural environment. The water pressure altered slightly; he would never have noticed if he had immersed himself in the senses he had remaining to him. He remembered his early adult life, before he became humanoid, and it helped give him the ability to encompass those inhibited senses into a semi-coherent scene.

A new distortion entered the diorama, even as the pressure came back to what was previous. Unceremoniously, the distortion was floated across his vision and halted upon another object, which had remained inanimate throughout his surveys.

Unable to discern the nature of the movements, Kylar Curran watched...and waited.

****

Branwen watched as well as she could. As she could not move a muscle, she could not look around the room. Her field of vision was a tube on the other side of her holding another naked person. It brought back many memories of her youth when her father had locked her up in the cellar after another vicious beating. Days and nights she had spent in the dark alone and frightened. Somehow it helped her not to panic now, Branwen knew she could survive a great deal.

****

While Branwen knew her own limits, James had yet to find his in a torture test. He felt uncertainty well up in him; the tingling creep of

something bad about to happen but all the while unprepared for its painful and unpredictable effects. His mind raged to shake free, to tell the body to move despite the bonds and become an unholy cavalcade of death once again... the fight or flight reflex meant nothing to his container. Angry flesh or subdued flesh, it was all the same to the liquid and to his bonds as it kept him firm. His attempt to be free was only conveyed by a surly glare in his eyes.

****

Meanwhile, Ella's blue eyes were wide with surprise. The shape had been

blurry through the goop that surrounded them but it *had* been O'Shea. 'Hadn't seen that one coming,' Ella thought with some annoyance. Then she wondered: if she lived through this whole mess, whether that made her Chief Engineer now.

****

The pain was unbearable; yes, it could feel it. The electrical surge rushed through its synapses, coursed through its muscles, skin, and bones, to the very ends of the hair covering its powerful, dark body.

It twitched again.

Somewhere, through the clouds of pain that made it want to howl in agony, it *remembered*. It *remembered* greater pains, greater fears. Greater darkness.

It remembered the nanites that had tried to assimilate it, like they had its fore-bearers. It remembered the pain of a polaron pulse. It remembered the stinging brunt of the Tholian's vibroknife.

It used those memories to fight off this new pain--just another one to catalog and store for future reference.

It moved again.

This time, a foot. Then, slowly, painfully, it closed its left fist...

== Scientific War Chamber: Surgical Suite ==

The sounds were alien, to anyone who spoke Federation Standard. Then again, no one working in this room *spoke* Standard. The air was filled with strange noises: click and squeals, grunts and hisses. The Hydrans moved quickly, communicating both orally and visually the tasks to be completed. Their biodroids began prepping the beds--they were instructed to begin with the females; it would be easier to obtain a viable sample from them.

More clicking, more chattering, especially between the male and female that wore the deep purple uniforms of the Royal Science Division.

"We will begin with the Trill, Reth," the female, a Qui, informed the older Gral.

"No," Gral'mev Reth'agn'ir undulated his eye stalks in negative gesture. "We are short on time. N'fth'nor has reported that suspicions have be aroused, even with the diversions. We must process as many as possible during each session."

Qui'mereth Ev'b'ohn opened her beak to voice her disagreement, but quickly thought better of it. It would put more strain on their staff, and with more strain, the possibilities of mistakes. They *had* to insure that a pure sample and scan were taken correctly, the *first* time.

"How many can you process for each session, Qui?" Reth asked, impatiently.

She answered quickly, while calculations flew in her head, "four per session is allowable, Gral."

"Do it," he ordered. He quickly turned from her, and headed for the sealed entryway. The computer scanned his bio-signature as he approached, unfolding the doorway from the bio-mechanical wall, undulating and pulsating as it irised open like a living mouth. Before he stepped through, he turned back. "I will return to the Icon of Glory. The Gharashk wants a personal update."

Ev'b'ohn turned and moved toward the antechamber, to prepare herself for the procedures. Meanwhile, eight droids moved into the containment area, each pair surrounding three of the female captives. Their built in hypercomms spoke back and forth to each other, and the computer systems all around. Commands were issued, and the machinery began to move. Within moments, the tubes of the two human women, the Catian, and the Trill separated from their holding mounts and flipped horizontally, ready to be moved to surgical preparation and scanning.

****

Ekoma could see them hovering over her, just on the outside of her peripheral vision. They weren't Hydran, but they weren't machines, either. Some strange conglomeration of the two; some sort of advanced bio-engineered species she had never seen before.

She startled as the tube suddenly pitched backwards around its lateral axis, so that she was now staring *up*. The two droids clamped on to either side of the tube, and began pushing it; she could feel the liquid around her move in response to their force.

Although terrified, a part of her was morbidly fascinated with whatever was going on around outside of the tube. Though she couldn't see to the

side, she could tell that her stasis tube was being carted into some sort of preparation area--there were large, bright lights, and some more odd bio-mechanical devices that reminded her of the awful devices she had feared as a girl, whenever her mother had dragged her to a dentist's appointment.

'What do they want?' she asked herself, the tactician coming back to the fore of her mind, pushing away the more carnal fears and frenzy that threatened to overtake her mind.

****

Panic flooded the Catian's mind as they began to lift and shift her trapped body, movement and isolation from a group were always a bad sign. Strength laid in numbers. Her pupils dilated to fine slits as the bright overhead lights shone into her eyes. The increase in heart rate combined with the sedative caused Rey'ol's thoughts to go fuzzy again, her last cognoscente thought was a plee to see her children once more.

****

Finally something was happening. Branwen caught glimpses of strange looking aliens above her. Then suddenly the tube tilted and there was movement. It made her feel good. Movement meant the situation was changing. Maybe she would be delivered from this tube soon, and then undoubtedly there would come an opportunity to escape.

The young Marine forced the fear back. She remembered the childhood days, and she focused her mind. Escape and saving the others was the only thing she was willing to think about.

****

It was a moment of fear, a moment to hold one's breath and wonder what monster was going to leap out of the closet.

Unfortunately, the respirator prevented any deviation from its set pace, which perhaps was fortunate because if she didn't hold her breath, she probably would have began to hyperventilate. She didn't know what was going to happen to them but was pretty sure that she wasn't going to like it.

She supposed, hoped, that whatever happened next, she'd be able to deal with it.

Unable to do anything at all, Ella Grey watched... and waited.

****

Quickly, the machine-humanoids unsealed the four holding tanks, causing great waterfalls of the viscous pink isolation fluid to pour out of each tank's seals, and through the grated floor below. With each of their subjects fully restrained, sedated, and immobilized, the biodroids began their preparations.

The droids--busy as they were--did not notice the movement in the sixth tank, however.

"The Perilous Nature of Engineering Tours, part III"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell, Engineer
Lt (JG) 8-ball Hunter

Nara looked at the door lock intensely, studying it. "I think I may be able to." Her voice trailed off as her fingers began to hover over the controls. She sighed, "Or alert them to our whereabouts." She turned to 8-Ball, "Alright, Lt. Hunter, your call." Nara preferred to try, but she wasn't about to add insubordination to her record. Whether 8-Ball cared or not, someone would find out and not be too happy if she acted without orders.

8-ball raised an eyebrow at this. She was kneeling next to the dead man in the middle of the room, trying to see if there was any interesting information on him, maybe a note that said, THIS IS WHAT THE JEM'HADAR ARE DOING. AND ALSO, HOW TO GET OUT OF THIS ROOM IN THREE EASY STEPS. She was disappointed but not too surprised to find out that there was no note. Things were just never that easy.

8-ball glanced up to look at Nara. For a moment, she had been surprised that Nara had even bothered to ask her what to do before she remembered that, technically speaking, they weren't just two girls stuck in a room with a dead body. She was the commanding officer. Now, that didn't really mean much to 8-ball but apparantly it meant something to Nara. Great.

8-ball shrugged. "Fortune favors the brave, right?" 8-ball said outloud. Of course, considering that she took to hiding in closets when the going got rough, 8-ball couldn't actually claim this as her motto. She preferred something from an old, human fairy tale. ~Be bold, be bold, but not too bold, lest that your heart's blood should run cold.~

Saying this probably wouldn't comfort Nara, though, so 8-ball instead said, "Hell with it. Go ahead."

Nara nodded and turned back and after a few moments of hoping, praying and mumbling to herself, she finally pressed some buttons and watched the door.

It didn't move.

8-ball sighed. "Well, at least we haven't seem to set off any alarms or flashing signs announcing our presence. That's something."

Nara nodded and studied the controls again, running her fingers along the side to see if she could take the panel off, "I have to say, this has to be the most normal dangerous situation I've been in since I got assigned to the Galaxy. Just plain old running and hiding from bad guys. It's kind of nice."

8-ball thought about this. Nara was kind of right. This was kind of depressing. "Well, it definitely beats the wacky fun that was getting our brains taking over," she admitted. "And it is a little less creepy than all the weird things that happened in the Hydran Temple."

8-ball scooted away from the body and sat on the floor with her back to the wall. "Still," she said, "two girls stuck in a room with a dead body, people trying to find them so they can kill them, no way out, no rescue coming. . .all in all, I think I'd rather be in Risa."

Nara laughed, "Well who wouldn't. But we don't need rescuing. Never wait for rescuing." Nara looked around the room, "Think there's something in here I can use to pry this panel off?"

8-ball looked doubtfully around the room. "Maybe," she said, and started rooting around the room. It seemed to mostly consistent of useless objects that took up space, and 8-ball cursed the Jem'Hadar silently in her headfor not chasing them into a more productive room. She pulled open a desk drawer and rifled through it's relatively pointless contents. "What do you think's going on here, anyways?"

Nara was looking around as well, "Not sure. Something fishy for sure. Anything with a sharp end will work. So long as I can pry it in and yank the panel off."

"Could be," 8-ball said, giving up on looking through the desk. Her glance caught on the dead man again and she pursed her lips as she examined the belt he was wearing. It seemed to be a utilitarian styled belt. ~Well, it's worth a shot~ she thought to herself.

Crossing again to the middle of the room, 8-ball kneeled next to the dead man and heaved him over on his backside. Bits of brain matter trickled down to the ground at the movement and 8-ball grimaced as she glanced at his face. Decidely human features stared up at her, eyes so wide they almost appeared to be alive. 8-ball briefly wondered again what a human corpse was doing in this room, decided she probably wasn't going to figure out anyways, and went back to business, moving away from the guy's head to his waistline.

On the front of the dead guy's belt were a number of tools. No weapons, naturally, but a few old fashioned hammers and screwdrivers. . .nothing that looked like it had been made in the last couple of centuries. 8-ball slid her hands around the man's waist and unbuckled the belt, careful not to get any blood on her. This was yucky as it was. 8-ball pulled the utility belt free and half slid, half tossed it over to Nara. "Any use?" she asked.

Nara reached down and looked over them, smiling seeing a flathead screwdriver. "I'll try this." She walked over and trying to put it in, but the head was too wide. "Not sharp enough." Nara walked back over and looked again. She saw an awe and smiled, "This doesn't have much leverage to pry it open, but it would probably help open a space for the flathead."

She walked over, feeling a thrill at using manual tools. They were so rarely used with all the technology of the day. She owned a few herself. The old tools were special finds to her. She didn't seem to think it odd that the corpse carried NO higher tech tools.

The awe wouldn't quite fit either, so Nara started banging on its end with the handle of the screwdriver.

"Uh, Nara," 8-ball said. "You think you could keep it down a bit? So, you know, people in the DELTA Quadrant can't hear us?" This was more or less ignored.

After a few moments, the awe was wedged in and Nara put the flathead in the opening that was provided. There was some cracking and creaking noises as the panel started to dislodge from the wall. She followed the same procedure on the other sides and after several minutes, had enough space where she could reach her fingers in. Before she could pull, she realized something.

"It's pretty sharp." She looked over at the dead man and giving a disgusted look, walked over and gently picked up his hands to remove his gloves. Afterward, she crossed his arms over his body and as she reached up to close his eyes, she realized something. "He's not much stiff yet. He hasn't been dead long."

She stood up and realized that somehow that knowledge meant they didn't have as much time as they thought. Not that they thought they had any time at all. Heck, they were lucky they lasted this long.

Nara pulled the gloves on and walked over to the panel and after positioning her hands, she yanked with all her might, causing a loud pop and many sparks as the wires from the panel tore from the wall.

Nara looked at it a moment. She didn't mean for that to happen, but decided to do what any good engineer would do. She acted as if she had every intention on doing that.

She turned to 8-Ball. "Well, either I locked us in for good, disabled the door, or caused some alarm to go off." After a moment and the look on her superior's face, she nervously smiled and added, "I increased the options."

8-ball looked at the still sparking wires, then Nara's expression, then the dead man's face. "Not all options are good," 8-ball said quietly as she looked at the blood staining the floor.

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