"Mind's Eye - Part 1"

Second Lieutenant Steven Jonas
SFMC, Furies Detachment, USS Galaxy

Lieutenant (J.G.) Victor Krieghoff
Security Officer, USS Galaxy

Lt. JG Tarin Iniara
Operations Chief, USS Galaxy

Senior Chief Petty Officer Renora Loret
Tactical Analyst, USS Galaxy

With:
Trem'Ore
Jem'Hadar Child

Gar'Han'a'Mar
Jem'Hadar Male

****

USS Galaxy
Secondary Hull Deck 14
Transporter Room 6

Renora was waiting in the transporter room for the rest of the team. She couldn't help but have mixed feelings of curiosity and apprehension about the mission ahead. A Jem'hadar planet; who would have imagined that? The time she'd seen any Jem'hadar was back when she was part of the offensive preventing reinforcements from reaching Cardassia. How many were killed that day? Would they really welcome the federation with open arms? How would they be different? Combat often had rituals and roots set in culture and she was interested to learn how things would be different here.

She turned as she heard the doors open behind her.

Victor paused as he entered the Transporter room. With so many small parties leaving the ship, and the increased drain on Security personnel to provide escorts for them that were not as overtly military as the Marines, things had gotten a bit short-handed and assignments were being handed out on a first-available personnel basis. In this case, that meant he was coming off shift and was literally handed the assignment as he passed off his PADD to the next shift's supervisor. They'd had nothing more than the bare bones of the assignment, and that was all that he knew: two non-command senior personnel required an escort for an unspecified time.

"Chief Cannon," he nodded to the woman at the transporter console - the small Asian woman flinching slightly at the toneless words before nodding back nervously and shifting slightly, as if to make certain the console was firmly between them. Victor didn't recognize the blonde Bajoran Senior Chief waiting by the transporter pad except by her file image; she was a tactical analyst, and he didn't deal with her department much. "Chief Renora," he continued, his toneless words somehow more menacing than they had any right to be. "Who else are we waiting for? I was told there would be two of you."

"Lieutenant Tarin," the Transporter Chief offered from behind the protective wall of her console.

"Maybe she's running late...or something may have come up. She does have a whole department to run," Renora observed.

Victor had waited on things all his life, waiting until Iniara got out of a meeting was nothing… or at least seemed like nothing, as everything did, now. "We'll wait unless you have something that you need to do on the surface or shipboard that is urgent?" he asked Renora.

"Guys," Chief Cannon interrupted. "I've just had a call from the on-duty Operations officer. It seems there is a small case of Search and Rescue going on with a trapped Jem'Hadar child in a cave. Ops wants to know if you are able to assist?"

Renora turned to the security officer. "You're the ranking officer; if you go I'll follow."

"I don't deal well with children, Chief," Victor returned tonelessly. "It's normally worse with them than with most adults that aren't Betazoids." He frowned. "I don't recall that any of the Jem'Hadar I encountered in the War was particularly affected, though - they may be immune." He shrugged. "We can try, but if it becomes apparent that I do affect the child, I'll have to pull out." He looked over at Chief Cannon. "Make sure they get someone else ready to respond in case that happens, Chief, and tell the Lieutenant where we beamed down and why when she gets here." He walked past Renora to the pads and took up a position there, followed by the Bajoran Chief, who selected the extreme opposite pad

"Beaming you down now," Cannon called out with an unmistakable sense of relief. "Good Luck!"

****

Planetside
The Cave

The cave was dank and seemed to go on for ages. The light from the entrance of the cave had diminished to a point where you couldn't see anymore. If it hadn't been for his standard issue flashlight he would have been completely helpless. The flashlight played over the rough walls of rock. Their multi-angled facets of rock making the light bounce off in all directions reminding Steven of the ancient disco ball that was housed in the Terran History Re-enactment Museum. Every so often a large column of wood would be found, braced to the wall, rising up to beams along the roof. It was likely that this had been a mine or something at some point. Probably metals for the structures in the settlement.

"This way" Trem'Ore called out, having seen Jonas stop to look at the ceiling, and feeling a little worried for his friend.

A short time later and they reached a fork in the path. Both ways looked like they had been used equally. Steven turned to Trem'Ore who was looking both ways, trying to remember which way he had gone down previously. "It was this way." He said finally, raising his hand to point down the right hand tunnel.

Steven pulled out a marker from his belt and placed it on the ground near the right hand entrance. If help was on the way they would need to know which way to go. "Let' go." He said to the young boy.

****

Planetside
The Cavern

It had taken almost 10 minutes from the fork in the tunnel to get to where the hole was, with a large number of twists and turns along the way. The tunnel had finally opened out into a massive cavern. Jonas marveled at the sheer size of the cavern. Even with the power of the torch Steven couldn't see the ceiling. It was so high. Large columns rose up from the floor up into the darkness above, their smooth round facades showing signs of being made with precision and skill. And the place was empty. He could see no tools, no beds for the minors, nothing. Nothing but rock, dirt and those tall columns that is. And it was worrying him. Why would anyone build such a big cavern and then not use it?

"Damn, this place is big."

"It is. We hadn't explored much of it when he fell into the hole." The Jem'Hadar child replied. "The hole is over there." He said, anticipating the next question from the Marine.

"Who goes there?"" A voice called out of the darkness.

Jonas looked around for the speaker, and found him striding out of the darkness. It was a Jem'Hadar. Jonas shrank back and pulled his rifle off his shoulder. It was the first adult Jem'Hadar he had seen since the POW camp and he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Hold Gar'Han'a'Mar, It is I, Trem'Ore." The young Jem'Hadar called back. "And I have a Federation man with me."

The Jem'Hadar Shock Trooper came to a halt near the child and looked over the Marine. "Stay your arm. We are all friends here. I mean no harm. I was just surprised that anyone was down here. That is all."

Jonas relaxed a bit, still wary of the large warrior, but lowered his rifle all the same.

He clamped his large scaly arm on the young Jem'Hadar. "What are you doing down here Trem'Ore? You know it is forbidden!"

"I... eh... Ma'u'Ral and I found the cave and went exploring. He fell down a hole and I went for help. This, " He indicated Jonas, "Federation man came to help."

Jonas watched the interplay between the elder and younger Jem'Hadar with interest. Having never seen a child Jem'Hadar before, it was fascinating to watch. The elder seemed to show a kindness and calmness that made Jonas think they were close. Not father and son, no it didn't feel right. Probably not uncle but perhaps close family friend. He'd have to write up a report about their interactions, as would anyone who had encountered them. It was obvious that the Federation would want as much information on this small civilization as it could get.

The elder Jem'Hadar turned to look at Jonas. "I am Gar'Han'a'Mar, " He extended his scaly arm, which Jonas shook steadfastly. " And this one is my Sister-In-Law's Nephew."

Jonas smiled. He had guessed right. They were related.

"Second Lieutenant Steven Jonas, Starfleet Marine Corps." He responded.

"The Galaxy?" the Jem’Hadar asked.

Jonas nodded. "I was assigned there recently."

He turned to the child. "Where is this hole your friend fell down?"

Trem'Ore looked at Jonas, then the elder Jem'Hadar and back to Jonas again. "It's over ...."

Gar'Han'a'Mar stopped him with a hand over his mouth. "Shhhh..." He had heard voices and pointed to his ear, indicating that he could hear something.

Jonas strained to listen, and could just hear the voices. They were coming closer.

****

Planetside
The Cave

Renora slipped her rifle off her shoulder and scanned the area. Nothing abnormal - no life signs. "The tunnel's supposed to head this way. Transporters must be blocked off further down."

Victor frowned and looked at the rock formations the tunnel was cut through. "Might be natural – these formations have a crystalline structure similar to other times that I've seen which interfered with transporters." He stepped back, still frowning. "Probably communications, too." He tried his combadge, getting no response. "Try yours, Chief."

Renora tapped her combadge only to be met with a static pip. "Nothing," she replied, switching on her flashlight.

"Not enough power then." He shrugged. "They'll have to send relays down to pass com traffic if this turns into a big thing." He looked around, found a rock on the cavern floor and picked it up. With a slashing wave of his hand, he scored the wall of the cavern. "Looks like we mark the trail the old-fashioned way, Chief.

Renora nodded towards the man and then moved further down the cavern, trying to see as far ahead as possible while Victor marked their trail.

After a time, Victor asked abruptly, the echo of his voice up and down the tunnel a shudder-inducing sound. "Done much Search and Rescue work, Chief?"

"A little." Renora replied. "When I'd just been made a petty officer, during the Tzenkethi War, we had to go down and try and rescue some missing soldiers. Thankfully they'd not been captured." She paused for a moment before adding. "I also did Some S and R duties after 359 & 001. Needless to say that wasn't such a happy ending."

”They don’t normally send me on missions like this,” he returned after marking the wall again. “I’m not what disaster victims want to see.” He frowned, the shadows making the expression almost monstrous. “My last time out on a S&R was in the Gryphon Belt, and that was only because the mission was in a combat zone.” He paused and then added incongruously, “You don’t have permission to die, Chief.”

****

Planetside
The Cavern

"Over Here." Jonas called out when he could hear the voices and realized that they were fellow Galaxy crew members. Though he had never met the guy, he had overheard the male of the approaching group several times during his short stint on the Galaxy. If he remembered correctly the man was Krieghoff, a Security officer on the ship. He couldn't make out anyone else though.

"They are also from the Galaxy." He said to Gar'Han'a'Mar who was looking quizzically at Jonas.

Victor frowned as they approached, the sound of the other searcher's voices having guided them for the last few minutes. One of the three individuals present was an adult Jem'Hadar, the other either a midget or a child. Since he assumed the aliens were using genetic resequencing to handle things like their lack of ability to reproduce, much less a female sex for their species, he doubted that they'd selected the genes for dwarfism as a survival trait. A child, then, which meant that he'd know in moments if he could be of any help here or not.

A few steps more and the answer was clear as the child stiffened, made a small sound that Victor assumed was a fear response, and bolted to hide behind the adult Jem'Hadar. It had been, he decided, too much to hope for. "I may have to wait here, Chief," he said quietly, the realization that yet another species couldn't tolerate his presence slipping away into the nothingness inside him.

Jonas watched as the two Galaxy crew members stepped into the Light. They made for an odd pair. He was tall and powerfully built, she small and lithe. He an Lieutenant, she a Petty Officer. The ridges on her nose marked the woman as a Bajoran while he looked human.

At first he hadn't really noticed the small ache in the back of his mind, but as they grew closer, Jonas found the feeling getting stronger. Fear, the feeling of fear. It started naughing at him, making him want to flee. He wasn't sure why he was starting to be afraid, but he could tell that Krieghoff was the cause. His eyes gave it away. Strong and confident and yet he could see a vicious streak in there as well. And he felt the fear.

After seeing the child hide, his suspicions were confirmed. The man gave something off, like an aura or something and anyone in it was affected. Pushing the fear down, he called out to the new arrivals. "Lieutenant, Chief, This is Gar'Han'a'Mar, and this is the young boy whose friend fell down the hole."

"I'm Trem'Ore!" The little boy said fearfully.

"Lieutenant," Victor nodded. "Gar’Han’a’Mar, Trem’Ore." He studied the two for a moment, noting the lack of a White dispenser in the adult, and the tell-tale signs of his presence in the older alien’s stance and eyes. "I can’t help – I’m going to make things worse by trying. The Chief should be all right, though." He nodded to Renora.

Stephen nodded to the Lieutenant and turned to the young Jem'Hadar. "Trem'Ore, where is the hole that your friend fell into?"

****

USS Galaxy
Transporter Room 6

Back on the ship, the doors to Transporter Room 6 swished open again, revealing the chair-bound Lt. Tarin. The Bajoran glanced around the empty room, then turned her attention to Chief Cannon.

"Chief, where are the other members of my team?"

"They've already beamed down to the planet, sir," the Chief replied.

"Damn." Iniara grumbled; she hadn't expected the day's physical therapy session to go so long. Blame it on the overzealous junior nurse that she'd been stuck with. "How long have they been gone?"

"Not long. I can…"

"Pinpoint their current location and send me there, yes," Iniara finished for her. "Do it."

Nodding, the Chief went to work. After a moment she frowned. "I can't seem to locate them."

"Then send me to their last known location." Iniara navigated her chair onto the transporter pad. "I'll find them myself."

"Aye sir."

When Iniara rematerialized, she found that she was now in what appeared to be a tunnel, or cave of some sorts. A low light from one direction indicated a probable entrance to the tunnel, and a quick scan of the area with her tricorder confirmed her hypothesis. Readjusting the tricorder, she tried to scan for life signs.

"Nothing." She flipped the tricorder shut, and then activated her comm. badge. "Tarin to away team."

A few moments passed in silence. "Tarin to Krieghoff. Come in, Lieutenant." Still nothing.

"Hundreds of years of perfecting these devices, and caves still give us problems," Iniara muttered to herself. Assuming that the rest of her team was deeper into the cave, she turned away from the dim light and slowly began to pilot her way through the tunnel. Navigating with one hand she activated her tricorder once more, configuring it to periodically broadcast a comm signal. Hopefully the team would pick up on it soon.

“Lizards and Their Claws”

By Lieutenant jg T'lan
Security Deputy, USS Galaxy

Location: Planetside, Kappel Valley

Vulcan logic had its disadvantages, and one of them was the glaring realization that one had no further recourse.

Case in point was during the capture of Lieutenant T'lan, a resourceful if eccentric Vulcan if there ever was one, in which a phasic grenade literally rolled to her feet and stunned her for a time her computerlike brain couldn't calculate, much like a recorder without its backup battery to keep track of the seconds now passed on. She did feel everything, the concussive blast that popped eardrums and buffeted her body, the heat of the explosive wash over her skin, then the flaring irritation of bright lights and energy burns. She felt it all before even her Vulcan constitution gave up, but that was not the point. As she was already aware, as lights danced in her eyes and muscles jostled while she moved quite not on her own, that logical Vulcans could be very, very rigid. When they saw an end result, it was as certain as a sandstorm on her homeworld; it set a course and nothing stopped it.

When the team of Jem'Hadar surrounded herself and their TAG officer, resistance was, for that time, a foolhardy decision, and there was no way to justify doing otherwise. Even as the grenade rolled to her feet, when fight or flight mechanisms were supposed to override her logic snarled brain into action, she accepted her fate and just... let it happen.

It did occur to her that her Vulcan resignation led to being carried like a sack of quadratritikale to parts unknown, by a Jem'Hadar bigger than two of herself? And Fektra, the First of Kappel Valley no less?

Her trill companion would have found a way to fight back, or wait until the time was right to fight. James Corgan resisted in both functional and theoretical ways, didn't he? Even not, humans always had a way of working around impossible situations. It was part of their terran optimism to always see a way to succeed. If there was a way to get out of her predicament, she was going to have to think more like a human, more like James Corgan.

Vulcan nature be damned. T'lan kept limp, leaving no indication that she was conscious. She didn't want to be found out and stunned again before she had the chance to put the philosophy of IDIC to practical use.

The Jem'Hadar first hauling her falsely unconcious body walked into a warehouse, where she was unceremoniously dumped to the floor. She wisely kept shut about the pain in her right hip as she hit concrete; if Fektra wasn't that gentle with cargo it was hard to tell how gentle he would be as an interrogator or combatant. She heard his feet shuffle, his throat grunt a few words as another body landed on the floor.

She dared herself to open her eyes a sliver, to see what else had been dropped. She saw Eloma's limp body heaped over a filled sack. Next was James, dropped back first beside her. Both officers were clearly unconcious, and breathing labourously. T'lan was the only one awake. Though Vulcan flexibility could be improved, right now a Vulcan's stout, strong body was not to be taken lightly. She had survived the grenades better than her commanding officer and their companion.

Fektra, by far the biggest of the group as seen through the narrowed slits of her eyes, bellowed like a wounded animal. “Blast that human!” He snarled, a hand enveloping over a bloodied cloth placed over his nose, “I have fought Romulans and have even been hit by them hand to hand. Who would have thought a weak human could harm me so? That forsaken security officer was keener than my men, foresters all, and sprung an attack on me like a weakling Ferengi! How dare he!”

“You are lucky he doesn't have pointed teeth.” Another voice, a subordinate, answered back.

“Know your place, third.” Fektra shot back with a nasty repartee of his own, “I am in no mood to be trifled with.”

The 'third's' feet shuffled around, out of T'lan's vision slit. When the third did come to her line of sight, she saw the Jem'Hadar brandish something black and gold in his hands, “At least you have captured his obstentious sidearm.”

Fektra grimaced. He too could take stock in at least one thing. He snatched the phaser out of the third's hand, and rolled it in his hamlike palms. “Yes.” He said, admiring the handiwork with a practiced eye of an artisan, “It is well crafted. But look at the impractical features. He ruined the matte black finish, material that gathers darkness inside so well... with inlays of electroplated gold?! And what gaudy patterns. Well made, but made impractical by that and this... extruding piece of metal. Why would he want to guard the trigger?”

“At least he placed the trigger in the right place.” The third said, “Most human phasers place triggers on top of their phaser pistols. Maybe he learned a lesson from our pistols?”

“Less than likely.” Scoffed Fektra, “Or else he wouldn't use a phaser. If it were polaron...”

“Yes...” The third throatily agreed. “At least it will make a good mantlepiece, on how a wily human managed to break your nose. Ha ha ha...”

Fektra snarled, “Then I suppose you are volunteering to place the captured federation officers on the transporter pad? Take Hef'tan, guard them closely.”

The third balked, “They are half dead! Are they really a threat?”

Fektra answered his objections, “Maybe. They should be out for hours. But our... allies want no chances to be taken. Do not take humans lightly.”

“Like you did.” The third jested.

T'lan heard Fektra's low snarl turn into a resignated sigh. “Like I did. My skills are rusty these days. Too much peasant living. Too much company with my mate and my child. But worry not, these lessons come quickly, and soon we will have our purpose, old friend. It will come easy like driving a wheat thresher.” Fektra's boots clomped off to the doorway, “I leave you and Hef'tan to this duty. Obedience brings victory.”

“Victory is life!” The third parroted energetically.

“That it is.” Fektra was heard saying distantly as he walked away, “That it is. Hef'tan! Aid him!”

“Yes sir!” Said a younger voice from outside, who came in doubly fast than his master.

T'lan felt sorry for the fate of the phaser, to be a conversation piece of a once warrior. She remembered her first reaction to James idea, as she was the first to hear of it. She thought it impractical, a waste of time and resources, to which James reminded her it was his time and resources to waste. He told her the stories of Patton with his ivory inlaid revolvers, King Arthur with his sword, and Commander Worf with his mek'leth. Weapons were a part of an officer's mystique. It was awe inspiring, intimidating, at least memorable. Pretentious or not, James put the opulent display to practical terms; such displays were handy when used by people of authority. It was to help get his job done. Nobody messed with a person who had a custom weapon and the skill to use it. To that, T'lan derived satisfaction from his enthusiasm to his little project, and was first to see the completed product. All that effort was hardly going to be appreciated by a plowman with blacksmith's hands.

The fact that she appreciated that piece of art was irony not missed, nor was the fact that her musing wasted valuable time. She waited as the scene unfolded in her narrow vision slit.

She saw one of the Jem'Hadar haul James Corgan, communicator-less and limp, to the far corner of the barn. While the Jem'Hadar were not looking, she craned her neck to see, and her eyes were greeted with the sight of a glowing white pad with stark metal confines. One of the Jem'Hadar manned a set of controls while the other dumped James body inside.

~”Transporter pad”~ T'lan thought, ~”We had encountered interference. If our signals are still being jammed, they would need a pad to amplify a sight to sight transport. But where to?”~

To answer her question, the Jem'Hadar at the pad, Hef'tan as she surmised, activated button on his console. “Kappel Valley settlement to Icon of Glory, standby for transport.”

=/\=”Icon of Glory to Kappel Valley.”=/\= Gutteral growls from the comm scratched against sensitive ears, =/\=”Send the subjects when you are ready.”=/\=

T'lan didn't need a translator to hone in on the accent. Hydran, harsh to the tongue as emotion to a Sarekian monk, an antithesis of tranquility. ~”Hydrans and the Jem'Hadar. Lizards both, their claws in us so soon.”~ T'lan thought a moment, ~”No intention for peace, just an arrangement for our capture. We have to escape. The Galaxy must be warned at once. How am I to do this?”~

At that point, Ekoma Janx was being hauled and dumped beside James Corgan. T'lan didn't need logic to figure out who was next, and did not want to prove that undeniable theory right.

The Jem'Hadar third lifted her body up with rough hands and an equally rough treatment of his cargo more befitting a sack of grain lugged by a bored menial labourer. Her stomach on his shoulder, his hand on her back, T'lan lurched as her eyes fluttered open, and was staring straight at Jem'Hadar backside. From that she saw a rifle clatter and slap on his hip as he moved.

“Hmmm... Vulcans are light and airy.” The third complained, “It is any wonder they have six times our strength.”

“Mmmm hmmm...” Hef'tan murmured, “I have the last of the setting completed. Drop her down so we can be rid of them.”

“Who is the third here?!” Snapped Third, “If I had to listen to such insubordination during the war, I would have shot the warrior between the eyes and then...”

Hef'tan looked up from his controls. “And then what, old man?”

The third shrugged, “I thought I felt stirring from the Vulcan woman...”

His next words were a muted gasp, as he felt with a clawlike vicegrip a hand snag onto his shoulder. He felt the momentary shot of pain, only to have his eyes roll and conciousness eluded him.

Hef'tan's eyes went wide. His third started to fall to his knees as the Vulcan sprung into action. She hefted herself to land on her feet, closing an arm around the Third's neck while wrestling the polaron rifle out of his sagging hand. Young Hef'tan wasn't as ready as she, he was scrambling for his weapon that was a good two paces away. Casting the Third aside after yanking the shoulderstrap off his arm, T'lan leveled the rifle at Hef'tan, and shot full automatic polaron bursts in his direction. Not all of the shots hit, but she was rewarded with sparks, burst consoles, and the sizzle of energy weapons hitting flesh. Hef'tan smacked into the wall as if rammed by a titan's fist, two smoking holes on each side of his chest.

The barn burst with hostile activity from the entrance. The guards, half a pace quicker than peasants though slower than actual combat veterans, ran in bravely to suppress the escapee. Polaron beams and pulses hotly sliced the air, forcing T'lan to duck down under cargo containers to avoid Hef'tan's demise.

IDIC failed her. Trying a human tactic failed her. She was pinned behind crates, away from her downed charges, while hostile forces were closing in with superior numbers. Logic dictated, as always, that even with an escape plan and a means to haul two humanoid bodies while engaging in a running firefight with an ever increasing amount of local authorities, the plan itself was flawed to the point of being an emotional outburst.

She had resigned herself to not being the poster child of IDIC ever since she was seven. She poked from cover to fire back, keeping the advancing Jem'Hadar at the warehouse doors. It was possible to escape with the transporter, though it wouldn't be easy to compensate for the unknown interference, if she could reach the console on time.

To her astonishment (too emotional? Try time engaging facination), Hef'tan was seen from the corner of her eye to be crawling to the console. His arm, shaking and bleeding, his breath raspy, the last of his dying strength quivering and running out of him in red coagulated pools, snatched at controls on the transporter pad.

To her dismay (or malsatisfaction of current results), she saw Ekoma Janx and James Corgan disappear in a nimbus light. His energy spent and his job complete, Hef'tan allowed himself the luxury of dying.

“No...” T'lan gasped, her escape plan made unwillingly easy.

Firing off another burst of her captured rifle to keep the doorways pinned, T'lan ran fast to the next hallway. She knew not the building or where she was going, as long as it was outside to somewhere safe. He legs bore her switftly, down twisting, dark corridors, frantically looking for the exit. She heard the clip clopping of heavy soldier boots, a squad's worth, following her. The hallways was losing ground, and she saw in the end a door. Where it would end up, she didn't know.

“THERE! FIRE!” A Jem'Hadar behind her barked. She would have to take her chances at the door. Gathering speed, with shoulder forward, T'lan dared the door and opened it forcefully, half running, half pushing into it. She felt wood crack and splinter around the door hinge. Vulcan strength muscled her through and out as polaron pulses singed the air.

Nowhere else to go, she turned into the night, towards alleys dark enough to hide her...

"The Silent Service" - Part 5: "Assignments"

Master Chief Petty Officer Madden Jayce, Team CO -- "Cadence Hancock"
Lieutenant JG Chase Remur, Team XO & Computer Specialist -- "Brechyn Troyer"
Lt. Commander Brian Elessidil, Team Psionic and Diplomatic Specialist -- "Radu Prett"
Lieutenant Michael Jamson, Team Combat Specialist -- "Roger Mueller"
Lieutenant JG Miramon Terrik, Team Flight Specialist -- "Danar"
Lieutenant JG Saul Bental, Team Infiltration Specialist -- "Raheem al-Hariri"
2nd Lieutenant Jebediah Baile, Team Recon Specialist -- "Savage"

****

Trading District, Vaden

The trading center on Vaden was a complex web of high-rise docking ports, seedy promenades, and dark corners. The sun never made in through the dense orange clouds, smoke, and pollutants that made it into the atmosphere. People, mostly Hydrans though there was a range of the universe's underbelly circling through, yelling, fought, bargained, killed, threatened, and dealed.

In Hancock's heavy clothing, Madden Jayce looked around with penetrating eyes, glaring at someone who was staring too hard, managing the don't-you-fuck-with-me glare that had kept her alive in the prison camps. He shuffled away, leaving the crew to disembark their craft in peace.

"If anything is not as we leave it," she growled, grabbing the lapel of the bizarre spacer-mutt who ran their docking pylon, "I will personally torture you within an inch of your life." She glanced at Brian aka Prett with a dark emerald eye. "And then I'll let him finish the job." The pylon-master seemed convinced. But just to make sure, she slipped a bit of latinum in his pocket. "So we're clear."

She glanced back at her merry little crew. Raheem was wearing his trader's robe - a sandy, ragged outfit, which left only the upper part of his face exposed. The robe was loose, so it was quite difficult for the random bystander to identify any distinguishing features except for the fact that the man wearing the robe had two arms and two legs.

On a planet governed by the Hydrans, that meant that the robe wasn't concealing enough.

"Hancock, I don't want to waste any time with the merchandise in our cargo bays," Raheem declared, wiping sweat from his forward. The bloody robe was a furnace made of cotton and wool, he reckoned.

"I'm sure you don't," she muttered under her breath.

"I checked the rates for some of the ores already," he continued, "and I know just the place to start." He shot a glance toward the rest of the team. "Anyone who wants to see how profits are made is welcomed to tag along."

Shortly before reaching Vaden, Saul had briefed Chief Jayce about the methods of the special observation program which he intended to apply. The objective was to acquire 'non-covert intelligence' - the general mood, recent major events, and anything that's too big to hide. If a military buildup was taking place on the planet, chances are that merchants and suppliers would be well aware of it.

She had listened with a distracted interest. In almost two decades of Starfleet service, Madden had more experience with Starfleet Intelligence that she would ever freely admit (or, conversely, that she *could* freely admit, even if she wanted to). Her posting on DS5 was just the latest in a long string, ever since she was positioned on the Scott.

"I'll go," Elessidil interjected. Since talking with Bental on the way here he was eager to learn more about the Hydrans. Accompanying him with this task seemed to make sense for both him and his assumed identity. Brian wanted to get a good look around and see how he would go about blending in.

Madden shot him a look. [Traitor,] she threw at him, cocking an eyebrow.

Although most of the work Miramon had been assigned was pretty much done, given that he was, after all, just a pilot, he wasn't inclined to think that everything was quite over. As far as the rest of the Away Team had been concerned, now was when the difficult things would start happening. Given what he'd been briefed on with regards to the Hydrans, that didn't surprise him one bit. Still, since he'd been eavesdropping on Saul and the Chief, it didn't feel completely out of line to comment on the proceedings.

"Respectfully, Ma'am," Terrik said, moving close to her, his voice barely a whisper. "Raheem and I are the two with the most experience in this particular kind of work - he's known for barter and his intel work, and I used to work shipping Uridium Ore to various worlds during the Occupation. I'd like to accompany him and Radu on this one. If nothing else, I can help Raheem ascertain if we're being cheated or not, and an extra pair of eyes wouldn't hurt."

"I agree," Hancock said, nodding, "but I want Danar to go with Raheem to move the merchandise; and Raheem. Don't get too overeager." She leveled her index finger at him. [In other words: keep your cover,] she echoed in his head. "Savage and Mueller, I want you to go back, check on the ship, then see what the natives are up to. Listen and observe, that's all. Prett and I will do the same. Brech, you take care of the other matter. And as always. If an opportunity knocks, by all means. Take it."

In other words: follow any lead you deem worthy, just make sure I know about it.

"Got it?"

"You know me, Cadence," Chase shrugged, shouldering her backpack. Her mission here was relatively simple, as covert matters went. Locate Teresa Florjan and retrieve her for extraction. "I'm always the opportunist."

Leaning back on a nearby dirty trader's kiosk, Jamson struggled to chew a cigar. He hated smoking and considered it to be a disgusting habit, but since it added more realism to his disguise, he would have to cope with the foul smell. In a funny way, it was the smell of the expansive Rigelian tobacco, that kept the revolting odours of the street from reaching his nose. This god forsaken place, was on of the worst he's been to. It was a harsh enviornment, ruled with an iron fist, led by the famous 'survival of the fittest' doctrine.

Doubts started to sprout in his mind, as Jamson wondered what the hell he was doing here. "Roger that..." he sighed while replying to Madden, not forgetting the disrespectful salute. She had already embarrassed him at the lounge, with Krell, the Klingon. She actually pulled him away from an awkward situation, and he was thankful for it, but inside, he felt his pride has taken a slight beating. She was the alpha female, leader of the pack. Although he looked and acted like a privateer, he still had a supervisor to answer to. They were all obedient starfleet officers, but as strange as this was, he could sense how they all wandered off. They needed someone to take the 'helm', lead, straigthen things out. Maybe their undercover characters were starting to take a hold of them.

Saul nodded his acknowledgement. "When do you need us back?"

Madden took a second to consider it, then rattled off a time which would give them sufficient opportunity to complete their respective duties without forcing them to rush, and thus, possibly compromise their covers by appearing too eager or hurried, which was always a good way to attract suspicion.

"Ahla.", He rubbed his hands, eagerly (but not overeagerly!) before turning to Miramon. "Yallah Danar, let's not waste any time. Allah willing, we'll find good buyers by tonight."

The Bajoran grinned slightly, slapping 'Raheem' firmly on the back. "Of course we shall. And if Allah isn't willing, tomorrow may bring a little more luck." He was amused by the expression, though. Sure, his own people might have said something similar, exchanging 'Allah' for the Prophets, but he really wasn't going to ascribe success to such things. Hard bartering would do the trick, and besides, all that mattered for the moment was maintaining their facade.

"Who the hell is Allah????" Jamson muttered to some of the group members, unsuccessfully trying to avoid his own cigar's visible purple vapor. He's been hearing about this bloody person all along. It was about time Raheem, would explain several of his expressions. And what was this funny robe? Jamson would have to have a chat with Bental once they get back to the Galaxy...or IF they get back.

Saul tried to frown and surpress a grin at the same time; It wasn't easy.

"You'll find out when you die.", He explained simply. Raheem al-Hariri wouldn't bother himself with explaining the truth to infidels; Infidels were, throughout history, a waste of time. You either try to convert them, leave them drowning in their own pond of sins, or declare a Jihad against them.

There was no time for Jihad right now.

"The 2.7 Percent"

Lieutenant JG Miramon Terrik,
Team Flight Specialist -- "Danar"

Lieutenant JG Saul Bental,
Team Infiltration Specialist -- "Raheem al-Hariri"

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

Every night when the the artificial lights began to dim, Haput was the third to wake up in the house. He always sat for ten 'plicks' in his fibrocradle before his smaller brother came to make sure that he woke. Shachiah was annoyingly brisk before dawn. One day, Haput reckoned, he would be too brisk for his own good. Brisk younger brothers tend to trip and tumble over very sharp spikes, thus creating Shishkabrothers.

He and Shachiah would climb to the roof to deploy the solar web. Once in a week, it also required cleaning because the city air was very polluted. The patriarch told them that on Yridia, even in the desert it took a whole month for the web to require cleaning.

But home was far away, and here the sun was different and made Haput's skin sore. The ache was joined by the stretched muscles and back pains he got every morning after lifting the merchandise. Once he and Shachiah were done with the deployment, they always went down to eat porridge, then carry the merchandise from the stores. The anti-G plate was used to move the heavier boxes and items, but the patriatch said it took too much energy, and children had more than enough energy for free. So unless there was something that he, Shachiah and the other two kids couldn't lift, they did all the moving by themselves.

Then, they did the shop opening routine - cleaning, arranging, counting the stock. Then lunch, then two of them always went to the market to advertise and spy on the patriatch's contenders while the other two remained in the shop and aided the patriarch.

Dawn to sunset, dawn to sunset. Haput would lose his count of days if he knew how to count beyond eight.

Working at the shop was so dull that he actually waited to go out to the city, even though he often returned to the shop after being beaten and without eatting lunch. Still, he preferred that to remaining at the shop and do the chores.

He was at the shop when the two visitors came, cleaning the shelves with the cleanobot. Most of the clients were Hydrans and other Yridians, and they came so often that Haput already began to give them nicknames, like 'The purple Hydran' or 'The sage'. The arrival of other Humanoids was quite an unusual event.

The Yridian boy lazily strode from the stores to the back entrance of the shop, and after making sure that it wasn't watched by the patriatch (He didn't like being scolded), he knelt and watched.

"... better than you would find anywhere on Vaden.", the man in the off-white robe declared, waving his right arm in wide motions. "Ah, the wonders that may appear from the mouth of this amazing machine, it would make you feel like you're back on Yridia, enjoying the fruits of your labor on this remote hole."

The patriarch dismissed it. Haput was prehaps inexperienced, but he saw the patriarch bartering so many times that he could almost whisper the next words himself.

"One replicator is as good as the other. And I have many."

The white-robed trader glanced at his companion, who was of the exact same height as his white-robed friend, although lacking the same friendly expression. His face was quite calm, or at least, robbed of pretty much all emotion in his demeanour, aside from the intense gaze of his deep-set blue eyes which hadn't moved away from the Yridian since they'd walked through the door. If they'd had a concurrent expression for it, the trader might have thought this was going to be the 'good cop, bad cop' scenario, aside from the fact that the white-robed man was doing absolutely all the talking.

"You hear, Danar? He has many. We travelled all these light years, thinking Vaden was devoid of replicators."

The other man unfolded his arms and shrugged lightly, almost in a nonchalent gesture, an 'I told you so' expression appearing on his face. "Vaden is devoid of replicators. Good ones, anyway. But if he doesn't want them, who am I to argue? It might take a little longer, but perhaps we'd get a better price from someone that can appreciate the difference between a decent meal and the stuff you like to call food."

Saul Bental grinned at the Yridian. "How about you replicate three dishes of... Ryo'jj, it was called? The traditional plate."

"I don't invite new customers to lunch.", The shop owner said dryly.

"Not customers - suppliers. But between you and me, you probably don't replicate Ryo'jj a lot, do you?", Saul suggested, his voice hushed as though he was sharing his deepest secret.

"No, because it doesn't taste..."

"Doesn't taste like the real thing.", Saul completed. "And you know why? Because each replicator is fine-tuned while being manufactured. We're talking thousands of seemingly inconsequential parameters. But in truth, shopkeeper, they are all the difference. And I daresay that the replicators on Vaden were tuned to fit the Hydran taste, not neccessarily that of the other citizens of this planet."

Haput licked his lips. 'Buy.', he thought. If the white-robed trader was right, his replicator would make the porridge taste better and four Yridian boys would be eternally grateful to the two strangers.

"I'll take two samples for tests this afternoon, and I'll let you know if I'm interested.", The patriarch said dryly, but both Saul and Haput knew that this was a white lie. The shopkeeper was interested all right. The Yridian community would pounce on the well-tuned replicators like... well, hungry Yridians on a plate of Ryo'jj.

Saul robbed his hands. "I will supply you with the samples within the hour. Now, I have another..."

"Let me check a few things first.", The shopkeeper interjected. He headed for the back door without further ado. Haput scramed before getting caught.

'Raheem''s companion turned and focused something between an amused expression and a glare right at the human. Sure, they were getting somewhere, but this wasn't helping them find anything out. It was helping to maintain their cover, absolutely, but it still made the Bajoran with a human appearance feel a little useless. Not for the first time today, he had to wonder what the heck Saul was doing working for the Federation when he was so good at this sort of thing. Maybe he simply enjoyed the additional risk that their covert work was adding to the whole trading game.

"Are you just setting this one up for when we're ready to sell the good stuff, or are you just trying to get rid of the replicators so we can go and get lunch?" Danar queried. He couldn't ask the question he really wanted to, since that would have made the Yridian suspicious if he overheard, but he was hoping that the alien had heard what he'd just said to 'Raheem'. If they were just getting the basic stuff out of their hands first, the being might try for a lower price, thinking that the two were anxious to be rid of the replicators so they could move on and get down to business proper.

"You are no fun, Danar!", Saul stated. "EVERYTHING we sell here is good stuff. Bad stuff they can manufacture on this hole without our help. Besides..."

At that point, Saul widened his eyes, and his lips tightened. Miramon knew him well enough to know when his friend was tense. He'd seen it before, when they were on Bajor and performed the 'sting' operation against the Rosenthal fellow and his false guru companion.

"... this 'shop' makes its real profits from selling Isolinear chips and positronic micro-conduits. I would bet tens strips of Latinum that they have a robotics workshop just behind that door.", Saul pointed toward the door where Haput previously hid. "And unless that Yridian is thick, he'll drool all over the parts we have to sell."

Saul drew his 'magic bar' from his coat, tossed it in the air and caught it. If that wasn't enough to stress to Miramon how important it was for them to sell the robotic parts, he couldn't think of any better way to do it without blowing their cover.

The Bajoran nodded tersely, understanding where Saul was going with this one. Even so, he wished that the man wasn't quite so...overt. There was an irony in there somewhere, but the Yridian would have had to be deaf as well as blind to have not caught what Saul had said. Okay, that was probably what he'd wanted, but even so, they were posing as traders, and the last thing any decent merchant would do would be to give away so much so easily.

Still, Saul likely had something else in mind, so he'd play along for now. After all, Saul was a) good at trading and b) an ex-Intel officer. What the heck was a pilot supposed to do to even try to compare to that? Even so, he was a bit worried that his friend had mentioned Isolinear chips. While the technology was useful, and certainly proliferant, the chips weren't used much outside the Federation, so mentioning them in territory that was anything but friendly to Starfleet wasn't really a great idea.

"Well, I'd prefer less drool, more Latinum. The sooner we sell our stuff, the quicker we can move on and go hunting for the stuff we need for the return trip," he said, placing some emphasis on the last sentence where possible. After all, no merchant would leave a world with an empty cargo bay when there was money to be made on the way back, and it also gave them something of an opening for bartering purposes.

"Patience, ya habibi, patience.", Saul said reassuringly as the shop owner came back into the room.

"How many units you can supply?"

"We have one hundred fifty units we want to sell. manufatured on Bynar by Tenzen incorporated, model 2382. We ran them quality assurance by experts from the Coalition before taking off. Here's our price offer."

Miramon watched his friend and the Yridian barter for five full minutes, before they agreed on a price. "Only if the two units you send to me pass my own inspection.", the Yridian summed.

"Take twelve hours for it.", Saul offered. "If we don't get your agreement or disagreement by then, we'll consider ourselves free to offer the merchandise to other possible buyers."

"You'll have my decision by sunfall.", The Yridian snorted. "As for the isolinear chips your other robotic supplies, I must decline."

Not skipping a heartbeat, and definately not in keeping which his usual personality (but definately in keeping with his cover), Miramon turned to Saul and presented him with a slightly sour look, his eyes tightening as he folded his arms in a completely serious gesture.

"See, this is what I told you, Raheem! Of all the places in the Quadrant you choose to off-load merchandise, you pick here. Besides," he motioned towards the back of the shop, "clearly you were wrong first time. And you owe me ten strips of Latinum for that, too."

"You do realize that the ST corp give you exaggerated prices, right?", Saul grinned. The Yridian's facial expression wasn't readable, but obviously he didn't expect 'Raheem' to know about his suppliers.

"You did quite a backgroud check, mister..."

"Hardly.", Saul shrugged. "ST are a long time competition. I have many competitors, like you, and I keep close eyes on all of them."

"Be careful that they don't poke your eye out if it gets too close."

Saul laughed. "That's a chance I have to take. That's how it is in the business. So, interested in hearing my proposal?"

The Yridian tapped on a console. There were a few tense moments before the back door slid open. Saul and Miramon were half expecting armed Hydrans, but instead a small, chubby alien of unfamiliar origin strolled into the room, his heavy body carried by five pairs of stout cone-like legs.

"My Robotics expert would love to help you with-- Haput, get out of there!"

Saul and Miramon noticed a small figure darting away from the door, just behind the robotics expert. Saul smiled broadly at the expert, and the two went to the far corner of the shop. Saul's confident 'seller's voice' soon boomed across the shelves.

The Bajoran eyed the younger creature with something bordering on skepticism, and clearly thought that the shop owner was joking with them - sending such a small being to trade with someone of Saul's calibre. Or maybe that was some sort of insult? The older of the two officers really wasn't sure. He stopped after a moment, listening with half an ear as Saul did his benevolent salesman routine, his deep blue eyes instead staring at the shopkeeper, watching for any untoward movements.

"So," he began in conversational tones, "how does business fare around here? This is my first visit to Vaden since I partnered up with the talkative one over there," nodding over at where 'Raheem' was continuing on quite animatedly. "Anything particular you'd recommend that we take a look at while we're here? There's always a market for 'specialised' goods in this area of space."

"Vaden doesn't hold much attractions to tourists. Go see the thunder forests if you have the time.", the Yridian responded reluctantly.

"I think you misunderstand me, sir. I wasn't looking for sightseeing spots. I was referring to something a little more profitable, if you take my meaning." Frankly, the Bajoran couldn't understand how the Yridian had missed that the first time - either he was extraordinarily stupid, which he doubted, or he was assuming that Miramon was stupid, and the pilot wasn't having any of that.

"I am sorry, but I only share business information with friends."

"Tell him.", Saul proclaimed from the corner of the shop, "that we give two and a half percent discount to friends."

The Yridian still seemed reluctant. His species were known as information traders, and it was not easy to guess what was going inside his head, just beyond that wrinkled skin. 'Is this a good enough price for the commercial information I'm about to provide?'

Miramon almost chuckled at that. He'd been thinking something along similar lines, but hadn't planned to be, well, quite as unsubtle as his friend. He half-turned to stare at the human for a minute, half expecting so see his ears enlarged. The man would have made a Ferengi cringe.

Still, the Yridian was bartering now, so that at least demonstrated that he was considering the idea.

"2.7 percent, then? After all, just think of the opportunities - you help us, we help you, and when we come back this way again, we might perhaps be inclined to provide business to a friend as opposed to a stranger. And our friendship has many benefits. Think of the opportunities..."

Saul couldn't help but shudder. 2.7 was beyond the customary price for information. Miramon had no way of knowing that, but the two-tenths difference could present them as desperate.

"I don't--", He began.

"In that case, certainly, my friends!", The Yridian interjected gleefully. "Anything you want to know, I'll be happy to help with. Except for things that may damage my own business, of course. Friends and competition don't go well."

The Bajoran knew exactly what Saul was thinking the moment he attempted to protest the deal. It was a risk, but he knew what he was doing. 2.7 was a rather high percentage for such a thing, but that said, Yridians were known for their love of a good deal, and they were smarter than Ferengi, so wouldn't be so quick to quibble over bribes and the like. Might as well take advantage, he thought, his usual quick smile hidden beneath his intense expression.

"Have you noticed any unusual shipments coming through lately that we might take advantage of? Obviously we're looking for only the highest grade equipment, and I can tell you're a shrewd businessman. Surely you'd notice if something interesting came through?" Miramon inquired politely, doing his best to try and put a slightly greedy expression onto his face, as though hoping to strike gold.

"We get more and more Hydrans by the day. And shuttles seem to come and go much more often. I don't deal in spare Starship parts of Hydran recreaction commodities, but I suppose anyone who invest in that field may get a fair profit. Same goes for construction materials."

Saul and the ten-legged robotics expert returned from the corner. "Oh, construction materials sound good. If we have ores to sell, who is the best address?", He asked.

The Yridian did not look happy. "The Hydran governor monopolized mining on the planet, and keeps tabs on all incoming ores. Unless this is enough to convince you to take your ores elsewhere, I offer my services to you as mediator between yourselves and the government."

"Just let us know who to talk to, which office, which clerk... we wouldn't want to take any chances that our new friend might get trouble with the government. We'll check it out ourselves."

Looking disdained at the loss of a chance to squeeze some extra credits from his new 'friends', the Yridian provided Raheem and Danar with the address of the local chamber of commerence. He then spoke at the robotics expert. "What about the parts they have to offer?"

The expert extended one leg, a hand-held computer clutched between its gruesome toes. It contained five green lines, and one red.

"Send these along for the inspection. I will agree to the common market price.", He said, pointing at the green lines.

"What about this?", Saul inquired, pointing at the sole red line. "It's premium quality. I wou--"

"Not interested."

"Well!", Saul folded his arms. "We've already given you one discount, we can't afford another without losing. The price stands."

"I am not interested in the price.", The Yridian shot back. "I have no customers for that part. I'm not interested, period."

Saul shrugged. "We'll just take it elsewhere, I'm afraid."

"You do that."

Saul shook his head, appearing througholly disappointed by the way the Yridian shopkeeper skipped an oppertunity to make a good purchase. Five minutes later, after signing some agreements and settling the small details, Saul and Miramon were already out of the shop.

"Let's go find someplace quiet.", Saul murmured.

"Should be easy enough in a place like this." Miramon muttered. He wasn't particularly happy with the way things had turned out in there, but they at least had a lead to go on, with regards to the Hydrans at any rate. Okay, it wasn't much to go on, but it was a start. The Bajoran glanced around for a moment, carefully, without trying to look too suspicious, then turned back to Saul with a raised eyebrow. "Perhaps we should let her know of our progress?"

"Hancock? Soon."

The two wandered through a maze of alleys, catwalks and streets until finally they reached what looked like an abandoned hangar. Saul strolled in as though he owned the place, closely followed by Miramon.

"Ah, we finally lost him.", he stated, removing the hood of his white robe.

"What?" The Bajoran's face took on an expression of surprise, and he looked around quickly in something of a fluster, trying to work out what the hell Saul was on about. Maybe the 'voices' were affecting him again, although Miramon kept that thought to himself. He stopped after a moment, then turned back to peer at his friend with one of those 'what have you done with the real Saul?' expressions. "What are you on about?"

"The little boy from the shop was tracking us. He actually did quite a good job... I wonder if they take stalking lessons at Yridian elementary schools.", Saul grinned wryly.

"Oh. That was it?" For some reason he couldn't explain, Miramon was almost disappointed. When one was around Saul, you tended to end up either a) expecting all hell to break loose any second or b) expect everything but hell to break loose. As far as he was concerned, anything less was simply contrary to his expectations, and that just wasn't on.

"Anyway", the Saulish grin widdened. "You must be asking yourself 'Why did my friends carry me through all this?"

Saul drew the 'magic bar' from his inner pocket, and depressed one of its corner to pop it open. The wide set of intelligence gadgets inside became visible. He withdrew several micro-machines - white noise generators, field ECMs, and other micro-machines that ensured that their conversation was private.

Then he detached the scanner, and activated it.

A cluster of yellow dots appeared on the top left corner of the screen.

"Each robot part and each replicator we sold is passively tracable. I'm not going into details, but we can trace everything we sell. Here.", he pointed at two lone dots, "are the two replicator samples I left at the shopkeeper. The rest are at the cargo bays of the Backbroken's reward. And that's not everything."

The Tactical chief was enjoying this, Miramon could see. He was just like a child showing his new cool toy to his friend.

"If you recall, I tried to sell five different robotics-related equipment types, and the Yridian decided to purchase only four out of the five. Well newsflash - the four types are used mainly for military purposes, whereas the fifth has no military usage whatsoever. It only has recreational purposes. Whatever operation our 'friends from Havras' are running here, these parts will get to them eventually."

'And we'll be following them.', Saul didn't dare to add. What he did say is "And that's not everything". Then, he took a tiny earpiece from the 'magic bar', and let Miramon put it in his ear.

Now there really were voices, but this time Miramon was the one hearing them, coming through the earpiece. His eyes widened slightly, since the voices he could hear were those of the Yridian shopkeeper they had recently left. The other voice wasn't one he'd heard before, but it was probably one of the being's assistants. The Bajoran shook his head and removed the earpiece, keeping an eyebrow raised in his friend's direction as he did so.

Saul's grin was so wide, the Bajoran was certain that it will soon expand so much that it will cross the boundaries of the Human's face.

Microphones. Starfleet somehow bugged all the replicators with microphones. Probably untracable, otherwise they wouldn't take the risk. "Nanites.", Saul commented, as though it explained everything.

Stepping closer to the human, Miramon raised his hand and poked his friend solidly in the chest with a finger. "Just when I think you can't do anything to surprise me, you go and do something that sneaky, that underhanded. You didn't think maybe I should have known about that before we walked in the shop? And to think I spent all that time counselling you so you'd end up going out with the princess. What was I thinking? I mean, how could I honestly have thought to subject the poor woman to you?"

"That woman will be the end of me.", Saul snickered. He was trying to keep Nara off his mind in order to concentrate on the mission, with only marginal success. "As for not telling you, I needed you natural. And it was quite a success, except for the 2.7 percent."

"That was natural as well. We're supposed to know our business but be naive enough to bend to get what we want. Besides, this isn't a major trading route or anything - the Yridian wouldn't know the real ins and outs of trading, but knows a profit when it sees one. It seemed like a safe bet." Miramon countered. He was still disgruntled by the fact that Saul hadn't mentioned his plan, but the Bajoran was used to it, so let the matter drop for the moment.

"Don't underestimate a merchant, especially not a Yridian. Anyway, from now on, no secrets 'till we leave Vaden."

That was an outright lie, Saul realized the moment the words left his mouth. He decided to amend it. He trusted Miramon as blindly as he could trust anyone, but even his closest friend on the Galaxy couldn't know about the OTHER thing Saul was on Vaden to find out.

"That's not true", He corrected himself. "There's one thing, but I'm going to keep it to myself for now, and it shouldn't involve you."

With a rueful smile and a light chuckle, the Bajoran nodded. "With you, what else is new? Anyway, we've got work to do. Lead on."

"Right. Next stop - Hydran government offices!", Saul declared cheerfully.

The Power Play (Part II)

Commander Karyn Dallas
Chief Counselor, USS-Galaxy

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer, USS-Galaxy

Ensign Eytan
Security Officer, USS-Galaxy

Ensign Keldan
Operations Officer, USS-Galaxy

Plus Kor'a'Thus,
Colony Security Na'Toha, Colony Physician & Medical Administrator

Jem'Hadar Colony

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

Walking beside the two Jem'Hadar Kimberly felt a small amount of unease at the scene surrounding her, the last time she'd been this close to this particular species she'd been a lowly cadet, many years ago for certain but still a fresh and vivid memory none the less, looking around at the stares and sidewards glances sent their way she wondered if they perhaps felt the same, ~ Something for Karyn to investigate perhaps? ~ she thought, making a mental note to ask her about it, turning to Na'Toha, "My briefing said you have around three thousand people here, how many did you arrive with?" she asked.

"Somewhat less," Na'Toha replied a little evasively, "but as you can see our numbers are growing, and in a more natural way," she said proudly, "though we only have the one settlement at the moment we have a few small outlying farms, we hope to have enough people soon to expand them into proper settlements, though with each new child born their maturation process is taking a little longer, so it might take a while."

With one ear on the conversation and the other and her eyes trained on her surroundings, Karyn resisted the urge to scan with her tricorder. No matter how curious all of them were about each other, observing them like specimens would not promote mutual trust. They also had to take care to defer to the appropriate authorities. Dallas smiled. "I imagine it is strange for your people to see us here."

Looking at Karyn Na'Toha smiled, a strange though apparently genuine expression on the face of the Jem'Hadar, "Perhaps Commander, though I would hope that it is merely because you are among the first visitors we have received, not because of who you are."

Keldan walked a little behind the others, following the lead of his superior officers and replacing his tricorder to its holder after his initial scan. His experience in survival training had earned him many invaluable skills, not the least of which was being able to observe and readily identify important resources in unfamiliar environments. There was a certain tranquillity walking among the crude yet functional structures with their simple elegance. As the group continued deeper into the colony, the increasing number of interested yet seemingly benign stares from the populous grew to feel almost natural.

Keldan took special care to observe the technical layout of the colony... the location of primary utilities and networks... water, electricity, transportation, to see the connections from building to building or lack thereof. He began to form in his mind a mental image of the evolution of the colony from a lone stranded ship to its present state of a colony of several thousand. There were no poor Jem'Hadar. Nor old, nor infirm. At least none on the streets. Perhaps that would change once they got to the medical center.

"Administrator Na'Toha, if I may say, a lot of thought has obviously been put into the design of your colony plan to maximize its efficiency." He hoped the statement resonated as the honest compliment it had intended to be, and not merely idle flattery.

"A cultural trait Ensign, Jem'Hadar have always prided themselves on attention to detail and efficiency, something we still adhere to," indicating the surroundings, "though I imagine should you ever be invited into any of the family dwellings, I would expect you would see the children still have a little way to go before they learn 'that' particular habit," she added wryly.

It was all very congenial, but Karyn could not bring herself to let her guard down inwardly. There was something about being shown only what they wanted them to see. It was very undiplomatic of her, but it was true.

Listening as they walked Kimberly was more than happy to let the others do the talking for the moment as she studied the surroundings, Keldan was right, the colony was very efficient, neatly laid out, orderly. ~ Why do I have a nagging feeling someone in orbit has the other shoe, and they're targeting somewhere right now! ~ she thought. trying to dismiss the paranoia she shifted her mind back to the conversation at hand.

"Well," Na'Toha said with a small amount of pride in her voice, "here we have our civic buildings," she explained as they entered what could loosely perhaps be described as an open plaza, several larger than average buildings on several sides, "our administrative offices and medical facilities," she explained as she pointed, "since many of us fill more than one job having the offices this close to the medical facility and other work places is logical," she explained.

Nodding in agreement Kimberly let Na'Toha lead them into the medical building.

* * * * *

Jem'Hadar Medical Facility

"...we're quite proud of how far we've come, Na'Toha remarked with obvious pride, "our facilities don't come close to that of the Federation, but we've managed to meet our colony's basic needs."

The facility was impressive, though much smaller than they were used to. It wasn't so much a hospital as it was a clinic, a place for routine check-ups and for the patching up of less serious injuries.

Just as Na'Toha finished her statement, the lights flickered briefly, and then extinguished completely. Backup generators kicked on almost immediately, but when the lights returned a second later, the dim blue emergency lights faded. Kor'A'Thus' prideful expression at his fellow Jem'Hadar's accomplishments had vanished and in its place one of disgust and exasperation had appeared. He turned to Na'Toha. "I thought maintenance teams had finally fixed that problem. Are you telling me it's back...again?"

Keldan sat back and watched the interchange between the two Jem'Hadar.

"How long have you been experiencing these difficulties?"

There was a long pause as Kor'A'Thus and his pride visibly went at odds. "Since shortly after this facility was finished, three years ago. The problems have been intermittent. They last until our maintenance crews get in, rip out all the old power conduits and hardware looking for the problem. The new hardware will work fine for a few months and then it starts all over again."

Dallas was starting to feel the same nagging again. "Maybe we can take a look."

Taking out his tricorder, Keldan began scanning the room for anomalies, focusing on the power conduits and pathways spread throughout the room. What he saw didn't agree with him. Everything seemed normal, but there was something here that was being overlooked. Something inoccuous. There were slight power fluctuations throughout the entire network, which was to be expected. But one of the fluctuations was accompanied by an energy signature he hadn't seen in nearly a decade, only detecting it now because of its extreme proximity. When he passed nearby the rest of the away team, he attempted to draw them in closer. "Lieutenant. Commander. Ensign. I think we may be dealing with a breach in Jem'Hadar security. I'm not entirely sure of protocol in this situation. But I'd recommend the room be cleared before we show Kor'A'Thus and Na'Toha what I just found."

Karyn wasn't sure what Keldan was talking about. "What's the matter?"

"There is something at this junction that is shunting power off the central network. Is there anything special behind this panel?"

"Not that I know of," Kor'A'Thus replied. Na'Toha shook her head in agreement.

"May I?" Keldan asked, moving to remove the panel covering.

"Please."

Setting the heavy panel to one side, Keldan kneeled and watched his tricorder readout intently, passing it down along the conduit pathway to the point where the fluctuation in the energy field was centralized. His brow furrowed and he cursed silently at himself for not having any of his own tools handy. "Do you have...hmm. A laser scalpel? Anything with a precise cutting beam?"

Na'Toha handed Keldan a small cylindrical object with a pair of probes sticking out at one end. Depressing the opposite end of the device brought a small, intense laser into existence between the probes.

"What are you doing," Kor'A'Thus asked, his voice rather serious.

"I believe I've located the source of your power fluctuations. If you would like, I can repair it for you. It should only take a moment." He then added, "I think you will be particularly interested in the results, sir."

Kor'A'Thus looked puzzled for a moment, but then gave an indication to proceed.

"You might want to step back." When he was confident everyone who wished to do so had, Keldan gripped the laser scalpel like a dagger and plunged it into the center of the open console, precisely at the point of source of the energy fluctuation. The lights dimmed and there was a huge explosion of sparks and smoke, but the lights quickly returned so all could see the mayhem Keldan's action had caused.

The scalpel was gone, now partially liquefied from the heat discharge. Keldan shook his hand from the moderate burn he'd received, thankful that he was, after all, in a medical facility.

Kor'A'Thus moved closer to inspect the panel and the small piece of debris on the floor before it, now cut almost completely in twain by the Talarian's precise handiwork with the laser scalpel.

"What is that?"

"You mean, what was that," Keldan replied, smirking. "This," he said, indicating a small rectangular box that had appeared at the source of the energy fluctuations, "is a splicing device, designed to shunt power from your existing network. to this one." Keldan indicated the new conduit pathways that had suddenly appeared throughout the console just as the box had. "And this," he said, indicating the debris at Kor'A'Thus's feet, "Was what was hiding it... with a Jem'Hadar cloak."

"Commerce Chamber Swing"

Lieutenant JG Miramon Terrik,
Team Flight Specialist -- "Danar"

Lieutenant JG Saul Bental,
Team Infiltration Specialist -- "Raheem al-Hariri"

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

"Five six seven eight.", Saul murmured, clicking his fingers, and began to pace toward the guard in the entrance. This one had to be effective. Fast. Coordinated.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Raheem and Hydran gatekeeper show! The upbeat rhythm of our Dutch saxophonist and Bajoran trumpeter is bound to make your feet move on their own and unlock the gates of joy!

"Where you came from?"

"Gryphon Coalition."

"Your purpose here?"

"We are traders."

"Which are importing--"

"Ores and liquer."

"But none of that illegal ale."

'If we had any it would be drunk by Baile.' Saul added mentally.

"Authorizations?"

"Here we have them.", Saul offered.

"Stay together."

"We're never parting."

"Go third hallway, to the right.."

"Oh, thank you very much - Allah will make your day bright."

* * *

"Go to the refresher.", Saul hissed in Miramon's ear as they reached the line. The partition of roles was clear - Saul was to do the bartering with the government, whereas Miramon was to spread the bugs throughout the Chamber of Commerce.

The bugs had autonomous movement ability, but they were more detectable while moving and being detected in the middle of a Hydran government office was, needless to say, not part of the plan.

Saul gave Miramon clear instructions as for what to do if he's being suspected of anything. Even bugging the Hydran queen's bedroom wouldn't be worth being caught. The guidelines were - don't act suspiciously, avoid contact if you can, avoid scanning if you can't avoid contact.

It was only when he was standing in the line that Saul realized it would be better if they substituted their roles. Sure, Miramon would probably strike a worse deal with the government, but this wasn't about profits.

It was about acquiring intelligence and getting out undetected.

"Don't be overeager.", He imitated Madden quietly. The chief was right.

* * *

The Bajoran curbed his automatic question as soon as Saul had spoken. It'd been hard trying to keep his internal laughter from seeing external expression when the human had done his quick one-two on the guard. As it was, he could always expect Saul to come up with something like that - Miramon would have done less talking, and signaled most of his intent through words, making it clear he was being humble and disinclined to say much. Normally it worked, but Saul preferred to simply overwhelm people with words. And thus, not for the first time today, he had to wonder whether he'd done a good thing by counseling Nara to date his human friend. Well, if it was true that people had a reckoning for their sins when they died (as far as most humans were concerned), Miramon was definitely going straight to Hell.

Still, he did as he was told, and peeled away from his human companion, only hoping that the man knew what he was doing. Presumably that was the case, but Miramon had learned never to take too many chances. That said, he was the one going to be doing most of the work, since Saul was providing the distraction while he did the actual work on this one - bugging the place so Saul could listen in to what was going on. And as soon as they got back to the Galaxy, the Bajoran was going to conduct a full sweep of his quarters to make sure that the human hadn't left any of these in there. Just to be on the safe side.

Especially given everything that had gone on with Ember. Saul hadn't said a word, but that wasn't to say he didn't know what was going on.

* * *

Saul finally got to the front of the queue. He approached the hatch, and flashed a smile at the large Hydran on the other side of the steelglass.

"Salam aleikum.", He said with a guttural accent, and then complemented it with a greeting in standard. "Good day."

He knew that Federation standard was bound to receive hostile responses by a Hydran, but if he was acting as Raheem he didn't have other choices.

The Hydran simply fixed his eyestalks on Saul, in an expression that said 'get on with it.'

"I am of the freighter 'Backbroken's Reward', Gryphon coalition. We have brought ores here to Vaden, and I understand that the government regulates all ore trading."

"You understand correctly.", The Hydran's chatter translated through Saul's universal translator.

"To business, then.", Saul proclaimed, and offered the Hydran an Orion-made PADD containing the list of ores they have to offer. "All premium quality, some very rare on Vaden--"

* * *

Of course, Miramon never reached the refresher. It was simple enough to maintain the appearance of heading that way, but it was easy enough to slip off in the next direction the moment someone's back was turned. Still, he did leave a few of the small bugs nearby - never knew what you might pick up from a careless conversation. And they were small enough that they wouldn't be detected unless you were really looking for them.

Most of the chamber itself was occupied by Hydrans and other various beings - few of whom were armed, but none of whom Miramon wanted to pick a fight with, if it came down to it. Still, the tricorder he had hidden under his jacket was usually sufficient to tell him where it wouldn't be safe to drop one of the tiny little devices.

So far, this was easy. That said, it'd only take a single mistake to compromise his cover, and only another to link him to Saul, and from there, to the rest of the crew aboard the Reward. Still, that was the fun of it, surely?

"Bipedal.", he heard someone calling, the clicks and chatter of coming through his beak translated through the UT.

"Exploring & Mysteries" - Part 2

Lt(jg) Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer
Pilot Paulo DiMillo, Vanguard Intelligence Liaison
Lt Claire Barnes, Security/Hazard Team

*****

The four of them walked along, with Paulo and Cora leading. The nice part about this away mission was they where supposed to look casual, so who would notice a new couple holding arms? Well, the other two members may look at it oddly, but all well. "So where to first?" Paulo asked.

"Lets start in this direction," Cora led them in a direction where the team could begin. Intently focused on gathering data until something else caught her attention. An unexpected Intel feed from the Galaxy forced her to pause. Her gaze met Paulo's then Barnes. "Things just got more interesting and that means our mission objective will have to change a bit. One of our shuttle's is in trouble."

"Great," Paulo said as he took his hand back from Cora. He reached for his tricorder and started to scan. "I have their beacon," he told them as he started to lead the way.

"What's their approximate location?" Cora asked automatically, "Is that the only telemetry we're receiving so far?"

"About 2km," he replied to her first question. "And yes. I am trying to connect to the Galaxy computer, but I am having troubles."

Cora attempted to get a link with Galaxy's computer with her own tricorder. "Keep trying. The more data we can have as a reference the better. Lets keep moving."

Claire just kept watch, staying alert while the others worked.

Paulo simply nodded as they kept walking. Most of the walk was done without and talk. After walked most of the 2km Paulo stopped and looked up. He could see the shuttle crash. "There," he said. "I am not reading any life signs."

"You're not what?" That really didn't make any sense. Cora wasn't sure exactly what happened but she never gave up on the fact their mission still had an intelligence aspect to it.

"I am reading no life signs," Paulo replied.

A minute later they got up to the downed shuttle. Paulo walked a little closer to the main hatch as Claire walked around the perimeter checking for hostiles. "I am still not reading anything," Paulo replied to them. "Though, that doesn't mean anything."

There where some strange things coming from his tricorder. Power signatures that shouldn't be coming from a Federation shuttle. "This doesn't make any sense," Paulo said out loud. He still wasn't ready to go in as he wasn't sure what these readings meant.

Cora kept here eyes open for anything out of the ordinary as she listened to Paulo, "What doesn't make sense?" Her inquiry was clearly directed at The other Intel officer on the team.

"These," Paulo said showing Cora the power readings. "They don't make any sense. For one thing, they shouldn't be coming from a Federation ship to start with, let alone a shuttle craft."

"You're right these don't make any sense at all..." Cora trailed off. "Open the hatch and lets see what we have."

"Aye," Paulo said putting his tricorder away and going for the shuttle hatch controls. Paulo started to type in the control sequence to open the doors. After doing so the hatch started to open, slowly.

Claire draw her pistol and made her way over, "Be careful. If there is anything inside, let me secure it first."

As the hatch opened a bright light came from inside. The next thing Paulo knew he felt a strange sensation on his chest. The nest thing hew knew he was out cold.

Cora didn't last much longer than Paulo. Whatever occurred took place so quickly that she barely had time to notice the strange sensation before she'd ended up unconscious.

Claire growled, grabbing the edge of the hatch. She pulled as hard as she could, ignoring that it cut into her hands. Dropping to her knees when her fingers gave out, she tried to keep herself awake but finally, she hit the ground unconscious, her head banging hard on the ground.

***

A little while later Paulo woke up and looked around. He was outside, lying in the grass. There was no shuttle around, but there where two other bodies. Paulo sat up and crawled over to Cora first. "Cora, you there?" He asked her.

It took Cora longer than she liked to respond. Confused she looked at Paulo. "Yeah I'm here but what happened? We should probably find a way back to the Galaxy." She had a feeling more was going on than they were aware of. As Cora tried to sit up her head still felt very fuzzy.

Paulo helped her sit up. "I will as soon as I find Barnes," he told her. "You just sit there."

"I'll be fine...don't worry," Cora knew he'd be worried about her. Right now they had a job to do. Once they made it back to the Galaxy their main goal would be to find out exactly what happened.

Paulo smiled and kissed her on the forehead before moving away and heading towards towards where Barnes was laying. "Barnes," he said shacking her a little. "You alive in there?" He said taking out his tricorder and scanning her. She was alive, she just seemed sedated, pretty heavily. Whatever had happened she had seemed to put up a fight.

After making sure Barnes was okay Paulo tapped his comm badge. "DiMillo to Galaxy, come in."

["Galaxy here. Where the hell have you guys been? We've been trying to get a hold of you for the past few hours. We have hell breaking through."]

Paulo thought a moment. "I have no idea. Just beam us up and have a medical team standing by. And contact the shuttle and use the auto pilot to get it back up to the Galaxy."

["Roger. Prepare for beam out."]

It wasn't long before Cora rematerialized aboard the Galaxy. She moved off the transporter platform and headed for the door. "I'll be in Intel."

Paulo materialized with Barnes still lying down. She was awake, just not sitting up awake yet.

"Hold it Lt.," someone from medical said. "You and the rest of your team are to report to medical for a full workup."

At this point Cora wasn't too pleased with standard operating procedures. They had a more important matter to deal with. "I don't have time for poking and prodding by the medical staff when we're missing key answers."

"I don't care if you have time for it or not. Captain's orders."

Cora grumbled as she stood there for a moment longer. "If we have to endure The medical visit, can you at least fill us in on what you know?" One way or another Galaxy's Chief Intelligence Officer was going to piece this puzzle together.

"We will fill you in on as much as we know. Now if you will follow me," the medical officer said as he started to head out of the door.

Two other medical personnel helped Barnes get to her feet and Paulo walked up next to Cora. "Common, lets go get this prodding over with."

Claire snarled, trying to push herself up, "Fuck that. I'll head there once we get back down there and secure the area."

Over to the side, two security officers gulped and moved in to help protect the medical personnel, using gunpoint as needed. It was well known that Claire needed a lot of incentive to go to Sickbay.

"Lt., please don't make us sedate you," one of them said. "I have my orders, and they include getting you to sickbay one way or another. Now you will come and get checked out. This isn't an option."

Claire growled before following along.

(Slight Backpost)

"The Jiiles factor"

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer, USS Galaxy

Lieutenant Jiiles (NPC)
Engineering Officer, USS Galaxy

Main Sickbay, USS Galaxy

(This is set *directly* following "The power of the rake")

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

Stood in the doorway of sickbay, Kimberly had watched the encounter with curiosity, right up to the telekinetic assault that had sent 'Jiiles' bouncing of the far wall, for someone who had little in the way of upper body strength she sure made up for it in other ways, grabbing a medical kit she trotted down the corridor as the turbolift doors shut and knelt beside Jiiles, "Are you okay?" she asked, seriously thinking about calling the chief engineer and having Eshe relieved of duty pending several evaluations.

Jiiles moaned in response and then found his tongue, "Yeah.. Yeah," he repeated slurring his words slightly. He tenderly touched the back of his head and checked to see if it was bleeding. Luckily it wasn't, lucky for Dhani. He stared momentarily at the closed turbo lift doors, rubbing his head, a confused look crossed his features. Slowly he turned back to face the doctor and gave her a sheepish grin.

"I'm Doctor Burton, the new CMO," she introduced herself, probably not needing to actually do that anymore but doing it out of habit, "and you are?" she enquired of the almost prostrate young Lieutenant on the floor.

"Names, Jiiles." He replied holding out his hand, he had noticed that this was a common human greeting and he had adopted it years ago. Jiiles made an attempt to stand up and slumped back down on the floor. He wasn't embarrassed about asking for help, not usually, but after being swatted by a rake on legs his pried was quite dented.

Whatever you could say about Eshe, she packed a punch that was sure! Offering a hand, she glanced at the back of his head to see if she'd done any damage there, that and the wall as well for the same reason. "Anything other than your pride hurting?"

Jiiles took the doctors arm and stood up, steadying himself against the wall, "My head." He said slowly getting his bearings. He felt as if he had been run over with a starship, that and very, very drunk. He blinked several times and focused on the doctor, "But mainly the pride." He smiled slightly and began to stumble towards sick bay.

"Let's just check to be on the safe side," Kimberly suggested, leading Jiiles into the ward and to a vacant bed.

"Is that a bio bed?" Jiiles asked making his way across the room to the empty bed.

"I hope so," she replied, "or someone's been redecorating without my permission." She quipped as she helped him up onto the bed.

"Mind if I just. oh yes!" he exclaimed lying down on the bed. "My head is swimming. What the hell did she hit me with?"

"Off hand I'd say she managed to whip you with some sort of telekinetic attack, not being a Psi myself I couldn't say much more than that I'm afraid," she suggested.

"So it wasn't the bulkhead then?" he asked with a sly smile.

"Well, just be glad she was in the hallway, if she'd tried that in here with all these loose tools and instruments lying around it coulda been painful for everyone," Kimberly muttered.

Jiiles smiled at her musing and then frowned at the thought of being stabbed with surgical equipment. Well at least if that did happen he was in the right place to get fixed up.

Running her tricorder over Jiiles she ran a quick scan of his head then down his back, "Has she done anything like this before?"

"Not to me." Jiiles replied sitting up slightly. He took a deep breath; his head was swimming a bit, but lying down helped. "What's the verdict doc? Did she break me or am I gonna live to see another day in engineering?"

"Bent a little, not broken though," Kimberly assured him, "You'll grace engineering with your presence soon enough," she reassured him.

"Ah dam and I was liking the idea of being singed off sick for a few weeks!" he said grinning, "Dam sure O'Shea would just love that!"

"Well, she rattled your brain around a little in your skull there, so you've a minor concussion, plus if I'm reading this right a few psychosomatic after effects of a psi assault, nothing we can't treat," ~ but you'll have a headache for a few days, ~ she thought to herself, ~ I'll give you that good news right after I find you a pain killer! ~

Jiiles nodded in acknowledgment, he didn't need to be told that he had a slight concussion, he could already feel it. "It's good to know I have a brain." He mumbled lying down again.

"I think I should be having another chat with Ms Eshe soon," Kimberly assured him as she loaded a hypo, "Do you know her well?"

Jiiles nodded, "Yeah we met a few years ago, quite a while after she joined the crew actually." he began; finally he had a captive audience to which he could talk endlessly about the object of his hearts desire.

"It was strange how we met. In this reality we first met when she broke into my quarters." He looked up at the doctors' troubled expression, "Yeah I know it sounds bad, but there is a completely valid reason behind it all."

"A few years ago the ship was attacked, the details I cant recall, cause for me and the rest of us its all a vague dream. But for Dhani it's a lifetime that she will never forget. The ship was attacked and Dhani was pined down under some debris in the corridor outside her quarters, that's when I first met her, and I do remember that clearly. I helped her out and she ripped up her top to patch me up, I was cut pretty bad. Together we went from room to room in the flame filled corridors looking for anyone that survived. Some had, a lot hadn't. We made our way through the wreckage to engineering and began to assess the damages, dispatch salvage teams and repair primary systems. She got together a rescue party to help find the injured and then began clearing out the worse sections of the ship. She saved quite a few lives, and saw a lot of death. At one point we had to turn a cargo bay into a morgue, and then a second one. The death toll was huge. It continued that way and then things got worse. The ship was so badly damaged that it crashed into a planet, and everyone died." He paused for a moment and looked up at the doctor, a morbid expression crossed his features, he was still as he recanted the details, the pain clear on his face. It wasn't his pain but pain for Dhani, for what she went through.

Nodding as Jiiles talked Kimberly recalled snippets of this from the reports she was cleared for, and from a few notes on Eshes file, "I remember a few bits of this from her file, she didn't die? Correct?"

"She didn't." he said staring at the ceiling.

"Dhani survived. Out of all of us she was the only one. She watched the ship she loved, and she had only just joined, destroyed and all her new friends killed. I don't know how long she was alone for, as there was one other survivor, a native Turan Trelar. Together they lived for thirty years on that barren planet before they were found. And get this," he sat up, drawing Burtons attention.

Raising an eyebrow as she continued to work she made a 'continue' gesture.

"They were found by the away team that the Galaxy sent down to the planet!" for a few seconds Jiiles gauged Burtons reaction, smiling to himself at her confusion.

"Away team from the..." shaking her head she cleared the impending confusion away, there had been some parts of what she'd read she just couldn't follow, "30 years?!" she asked with slightly hesitant confusion.

"Temporal mechanics!" he enlightened her.

"I hate temporal mechanics." Kimberly said flatly, repeating a frequently used phrase. Most sane officers (in her opinion) avoided if possible that confusing mess called time travel. Okay, sometimes, like with Eshe and her own experience, you couldn't help it, but trying to understand it was just as bad.

"Don't ask me for the technical side, I never could grasp it. But in essence there was a temporal rift. Dhani was rescued and taken back to the Galaxy, but the shuttle didn't leave orbit, instead they watched the Galaxy crash, just like it had before. Dhani then met the younger version of herself, and again saw all her crew mates die! Another ship crashed into the planet and the away team set up triage camp. Dhani and Naut, Naut was what the older version of Dhani was called, they figured out how to restore the time line. Together they stole the runabout and flew it into the rift, breached the warp core and blew themselves up. The time line was restored, and for us, the ship being under attack and all of us dying was a bad dream. But Dhani now had the memories of her and the older version of herself. It's enough to drive anyone insane. So that's how she ended up in my quarters. She was crying in the corner talking about what had happened, like a kid waking from a bad dream that they just couldn't shake. I helped her through that and we got close... eventually. We started dating a long time afterwards, about a month before she fell into a coma." Jiiles paused for a moment to let the doctor get her bearings.

"I've read a few parts of her file, it's mind numbing to read even some of the thing's she's been through," Kimberly said after a moment, picking up a small device she attached it to the side of Jiiles's head and activated it, "it's no wonder she's..." trying to think of a tactful word, "upset..." she finished a little lamely.

"Dhanis life story is a bit of a head fuck!" Jiiles commented, "The first time I heard of her using telekinetics was when she and Suder, the previous chief of engineering, got into a huge fight. And after that she fell into a coma and then was taken to Trill, where she died. I don't know how she came back, but she did and she hasn't spoken to me since."

(Slight Backpost)

"The Jiiles factor"

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer, USS Galaxy

Lieutenant Jiiles (NPC)
Engineering Officer, USS Galaxy

Main Sickbay, USS Galaxy

(This is set *directly* following "The power of the rake")

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

"Dhanis life story is a bit of a head fuck!" Jiiles commented, "The first time I heard of her using telekinetics was when she and Suder, the previous chief of engineering, got into a huge fight. And after that she fell into a coma and then was taken to Trill, where she died. I don't know how she came back, but she did and she hasn't spoken to me since."

"She mentioned the time on Trill briefly," Kimberly added, "but few details," loading a hypo she gently pressed it against his neck and activated it, over the gentle hiss, "that should help with the after effects," she assured him.

Suddenly Jiiles lurched forward and grabbed hold of Burtons arm, "I know I was pushy with her, and I probably deserve to be smacked into the bulkhead." He half smiled and added as an after though, "but don't tell her I said that."

"Wouldn't dream, of it," Kimberly replied with a small smile, gently disengaging his arm she pushed him back softly, "lay back would you please?" wanting to hear more, but also wanting to treat his concussion properly.

He leaned in closer though his eyes pleading; he had to explain to someone. He wanted to explain to Dhani but she wasn't here and he just needed to tell someone, Burton would do as well as anyone, "I just need to let her know that I don't blame her for what happened with Suder. I know what he did to her, I know why she tried to kill him, and I don't blame her at all. I need her to know that." He looked hard into Burtons eyes for her understanding, the understanding that he wanted from Dhani, "I was angry when I found out, I was hurt and I wasn't there for her, I should have been at her bedside, through all of it. I should have kicked the shit out of Ethan, but he was my best friend and I just couldn't believe it, not at first. He would never... But he did, and I should have kicked his arse all the way to kingdom come. But I didn't." letting go of Burtons' arm he lay back down on the bed and sighed, "I felt, I feel so guilty. I love her and I wasn't there for her. I was in utter turmoil when I heard that she died, it was like my world had ended. I loved her from the first moment I laid eyes on her, in the half dream memory of her in the corridor, in the real memory of her in my quarters when I held her as she cried." He became still again, lost in the memory.

Listening as he vented his feelings and obvious frustration Kimberly let his lay in silence for a moment, using the time to finish his treatment. After a moment she closed her tricorder, "It sounds to me like you really need to sit down and have a long talk with her, though I guess she's not ready to do that yet, based on your last encounter," thinking a moment, "I would like to get to know her better, but she has absolutely no reason to trust me, and understandably so... I could use some advice if you have any.

"Like what?" Jiiles asked.

"Anything really, what does she like to do? Hobbies, favourite foods... anything, I need something to sit down and talk to her over, something I hope will relax her a little. Last time, well you saw how she left," Kimberly said, indicating the door.

Jiiles gave her a small smile, "She does that a lot; storm out. It's something that she's infamous for. Me and Ethan used to joke about it all the time." His face fell again at the mention of his former best friend.

~ Locking the door's not really an option though, ~ she mused silently, raising an eyebrow, "Nothing at all?"

He sighed and stirred on the bed, "I would love to help you out, getting to know Dhani better but I just don't have the answers. It's strange, I mean we dated and I should know, I should know everything about her, but I don't. She doesn't open up to anyone, well except Michael."

"Michael...?" Kimberly asked, trailing off the comment into a question.

"Michael McDowell." Jiiles pulled a face, he didn't like Michael, not after their last talk. In fact he saw him as a rival suitor and wanted nothing more than to see the back of him. With Michael gone Jiiles would have the playing field all to himself again. "Michael used to work on the ship, in engineering. He was also close to Ethan. And now he's bunk mates with Dhani." The sarcasm and seething loathing was clear in his tone as he talked about Michael.

"He wouldn't believe me when I told him what Ethan had done to her, and I bet you that he's never confronted her about it. I'd love to be a bug on the wall for that conversation."

"If he's bunk mates with her, are they...?" tactfully leaving the sentence hanging she let him answer how he wanted.

"Sleeping together?" Jiiles finished the sentence for her. He smiled slightly and chuckled, "No. They are not a couple, just good friends. Michael left Starfleet over a year ago and he was there when Dhani woke up in the hospital on Trill. Since they came back he has been staying with her. O'Shea asked him to stay on as an engineering advisor. Next she will be asking him to rejoin the fleet and then there will be no getting rid of him!" Jiiles spat.

"Sounds like you really don't like him?" Kimberly asked gently, "any particular reason?" she added curiously.

Jiiles shook his head, "He's in love with my girlfriend." he said flatly, "With Dhani." He corrected himself although it pained him to do so. "If a friend of yours was after the man you were in love with, and was your ex, you'd be a little hacked off too."

Choosing not to contradict his assumptions Kimberly made a somewhat non-committal sound, almost an "Uh-huh," of agreement, but not quite, "It sounds... complicated, have you and he spoken?"

"Yeah, that's how I found out. I went to a friend for advice, and found out that he's after my girl." He replied sitting up, "We don't get on now as you can imagine. But he's the person to speak to about Dhani. He knows what she likes to eat, how she spends her free time. Though I doubt that even he knows about what happened with Suder or where she grew up or what life was like in the academy or what she thinks about her parents. Not even I know that." He added disgruntled.

“Perhaps I might have a chat with him,” she thought aloud, mostly to herself, “but later… in the meantime,” switching off the device in her hand she completed her work with the gently hiss of a hypo, “how do you feel now?”

"Much better." He replied rolling his head from side to side, "Less stars and fire works going off in my head!" he said smiling. "So what are you going to do about Dhani?" he asked curious.

“Well, I need to see Lieutenant Eshe again, we never completed her physical, but all I can say is I will be having another chat with her very soon, you have certainly piqued my curiosity about her that’s for sure… and I do need to see her again.”

"Well be prepared for a fight." He joked, though there was more truth in it than jest. He looked around the room, "I guess that's my cue to leave." He stated with a cheery grin.

Nodding, “But swing by tomorrow for a check up,” she asked.

He made his way over to the door and paused, "There is one thing that I know about Dhani." He said turning round, "She likes to fight, and I mean really fight, spar, work out and the like. When she was signed off she spent most of her time in the gym or the holodeck in combat training programs. She grew up on Q’ono'S and was taught to fight by Klingons," he paused and chuckled, "she was also taught inner peace and control by the Vulcans, nice to see how that one worked out!"

“Well that’s out I’m afraid,” Kimberly said with a touch of distaste in her voice, “I don’t do the hand to hand thing,” she admitted, anything else?”

He thought for a second his fingers rapping against his lips, "She can hold her drink better than anyone I know. And... Oh yes, and she plays the cello, in a way that just haunts you." he looked up and smiled, "I know more about her than I thought." he grinned and gave the Doctor an informal salute before leaving sick bay, his smile growing wider with every step he took.

~ Cello eh! I wonder if she’d like a flute accompaniment? ~ She contemplated, an idea forming…

"Lost In The Woods " pt 2

Major Corran Rex
Lieutenant (Brevet) Teyri Jen
Flight Officer Padma Xiaz
Pilot Anna Lewis (Frank)

----------------
The Jungle
Location Unknown
----------------

"I'm not surprised." he muttered, and started looking around for the survival lockers. He was acutely aware of the fact that they'd need to move quickly. He was also more than aware of the fact that, according to the tricorder, the rear half of the runabout - and presumably O'Connor and Lansky - were nearly twenty miles to the south. "Just stay put, Lewis. Don't move around too much, and we'll have you down quick as can be."

"I'm holding you to that, Major."

Corran eventually found the supply locker. The panel of circuitry on its side - the one that had tied it into the emergency transporter system - was smashed. That explained why it hadn't been beamed out, nor had apparently, Pad and Anna. Or O'Connor and Lansky. The locker itself seemed intact, and he breathed a sigh of relief when it opened with a minimal of effort.

There was, however, damage inside. The emergency beacon was smashed, as well as a good number of the charge units for the medical devices. Two bone knitters and one dermal regenerator were functioning, with about three spare charge units for each. One neural stimulator was working, too. That would probably fix the worst of their injuries, and the neural stimulator would take care of any concussions. Thank the Pools for small favors. There were good, old-fashioned disinfectants and bandages for the other wounds, so they would be able to function.

And, perhaps more importantly, the phasers seemed to be working. There wasn't an over abundance of charge packs for them - the same power surge that had killed most of the medical power packs had taken out about half the ones for the phasers, too. Still, they had enough that they had a chance. They had two phaser rifles, two hand phasers, and two palm phasers. And three survival vibroknives.

Corran emptied the gear into a pack, and looked up at where Anna was hanging. "Just hang on a few minutes, Pilot. Let me get us patched up, and then we can figure out how to get you down."

Jen sat beside Pad, joking with her lightly to try and keep the other woman's mind occupied - insofar as she could, at least. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Corran searched all their remaining equipment, noting the look on his face as he took stock.

Jen reached up and laid her hand along the side of Pad's face. "He'll be back in a sec, and then we can work on getting you moving okay." Even though their little interlude had been nothing more then an exchange between friends, she still had another bond with her wingman, one that extended into her heart. It wouldn't get in the way professionally, but she still didn't want to see this woman that had shared something like that with her hurt, in pain.

"Mm…" Pad mumbled. "Not a rush, really. Not like there's hostiles rapidly encroaching on us or anything."

He lowered himself to where Jen was helping Pad first, and he didn't miss the casually intimate way that the Bajoran cupped the side of the Trill woman's face. It sent a momentary shock through him, as well as a stab of jealousy. He hadn't realize that the two of them had been… friendly in that way.

None of Corran's reaction showed on his face, but he found that he couldn't exactly pin down the source of his jealousy - whether it was on the part of Pad... or Jen.

'Down boy.' he thought to himself as he began passing the dermal regenerator over his XO's wounds. 'You're with Ella now. Remember that. There's no room for any other nonsense.'

Jen had the least amount of wounds of any of them, so it made sense to heal her first. Then he and she both could get Pad fixed - thank the Pools that the SFFC insisted on advanced survival training, including advanced first aid, for all it's pilots - and then figure out how to get Anna down.

All before the Jem Hadar - or the Hydrans, or even the Romulans, he cautioned himself to avoid picking out an enemy so soon. There was just too many choices - arrived to inspect their 'kill'.

Jen breathed a sigh as hurts that she almost didn't recognize that she had disappeared with the use of the regenerator. The deep ache from her bruises had registered barely in her consciousness, until the pain was gone. Then she could admit to herself how much of a fright she must have looked with her face banged up, although she still looked better then Pad did right now.

She looked up into the tree, making sure that Lewis was still hanging in there - pun intended - and that she was in no immediate danger of falling to the ground.

"No, Rex, get Lewis down first," Pad said, shoving Rex away from her far more gently than she'd intended. But while her strength wasn't a hundred percent, the fog of shock was beginning to fade and the adrenaline in her system was beginning to do its job, forcing her to wake up, think a little clearer, remember her training. "Get her down and get that leg fixed up - it looks pretty shitty. That is top priority. I can move, if necessary, but we don't want to leave her behind if we have to skedaddle, and carrying her is a no go across this terrain."

"It is shitty," Anna added, trying not to pass out from the blood rushing to her head. There was no way to fly if you were brain dead. She looked down at the ground, balefully. How she kept getting into these messes was a mystery to her. "Rex, I think I dropped my transporter pin."

"Shit." the Major muttered. That'd been his only idea for how to get the youngest pilot down. The emergency transport device was a relatively new addition to the survival gear of Starfleet pilots, and the Major had to admit it was one of R&D's better ones. The size of a communicator, it carried enough charge and capacity for a single, one-way transport. In space, within range, it was automatically set to interact with the transporter systems aboard the Vanguard's now-crashed runabout, or to Galaxy herself. If the device was unable to perform that, it could also perform a three-meter directional transport for situations like this. And it was really the only way Lewis could get down, short of his burning the tree in half with his phaser. The way she was hanging, and with that leg, there was certainly no way he could safely carry her down the tree.

"Okay, okay. I did drop my transporter pin," Anna winced as the wind blew her ever so slightly in a direction which her broken leg didn't appreciate. "If you get it out of that pile of leaves, and climb up the tree next to me, I can probably transport down."

While he followed where Lewis was indicating, Teyri silently started applying the dermal regenerater to his leg. It surprised the Trill a moment, but not as much as it should have. Jen wasn't really the type to ask permission for a whole lot of things, she just did them. Corran, as the largest of all three on the ground, would have the best chance of getting the pin up there to Lewis.

She sealed the skin over the back of his thing, and went to apply the deeper setting that would repair the other damage, but Corran stopped her. "No, let's no waste it. Work on Pad, and I'll get Lewis down."

Jen nodded, and then turned back towards Pad. She'd done what little she could for Corran. At least sealing the top of the wound would give him just a little more stability in his leg, if he was indeed planning on climbing the tree to get up to Lewis.

Jen stood for a moment, and looked at Pad, trying to judge what the worst injuries would. She heaved a small sigh, gave her wingmate and brief smile, and then set to work, just running the regenerator on the immediate wounds that she could see. Facial lacerations, on her arms, legs, etc. She checked the charge remaining on the regenerator, and popped it out, to replace it with one of their spares. One down, two to go.

Jen finished up with the lacerations, and moved onto the deeper wounds, sealing them as best she could. She knew it was mostly a slapdash job, and Pad would have to get to sickbay for true medical care, otherwise there would be scaring, but it would get her moving. She set aside the dermal regenerator and grabbed a bone knitter. She'd already used the tricorder to determine exactly where the broken bones were, and she applied the knitter as quickly as possible.

"The Incidence at the Commerce Chamber"

Lieutenant JG Miramon Terrik,
Team Flight Specialist -- "Danar"

Lieutenant JG Saul Bental,
Team Infiltration Specialist -- "Raheem al-Hariri"

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

"Where do you want me to deliver the ore?", Saul inquired.

"The chamber's warehouses are located near the waterfront docking area. Here are the standard coordinates."

Saul wrote the coordinates on his PADD. They were quite close to where the Reward has docked.

"We can transport the ores to whatever site on the planet you want at no extra cost - it's all part of the service.", Saul offered.

"No need. The warehouses are central storage. When we'll need the ores, we'll taken them from there."

"I see. Agreed, then.", Saul tried not to sound disappointed.

* * *

"Bipedal."

Miramon knew, as humans would say, that the gig was up the moment that particular word came over the Universal Translator, since Hydrans were most definitely not bipedal. Miramon cursed softly in Bajoran, but slowly withdraw a small type 1f phaser from one of the pockets on his jacket, checking the power setting with a glance and switching the weapon over to 'kill', rather than the standard 'stun' setting. Normally he'd prefer not to have to use a phaser at all, and when he did, stun was about as far as he'd go, but if he was going to avoid capture, he needed to make sure that anything he exchanged fire with didn't leave a body lying around, or wake up once the stun wore off. It was regrettable, but the Hydrans hadn't provided him with much choice.

Turning around, slowly, the Bajoran moved his hands behind his back, as though he were going to clasp one into the small of his back - the officer's stance, as it'd been jokingly called at the Academy - thus allowing him to hide the phaser in plain sight, so to speak. The Hydran that had called out to him was standing a few meters off - an ugly creature, as far as Miramon was concerned. Admittedly, the fact that it had six limbs wasn't particularly reassuring, but then it could easily tear him apart, if it came to that, so he had far more reason to be bothered than the Hydran did.

"Something I can do for you?" he said in Basic, clear and polite, but then, it was fortunate the Hydran had no penchant for sarcasm.

"This is not a public zone.", the Hydran stated. His own weapon was not concealed. It was a nasty-looking disruptor, attached to a bracelet that circled his right wrist. Moreover, it was aimed directly at Miramon's torso. "You will follow me to the public regions."

Miramon thought about it for a split second, then nodded. "Very well. Lead on."

The Hydran was stupid enough to take the bait, and turned around in order to walk ahead of the Bajoran, in order to show him the way. Though he wasn't comfortable with the idea, as soon as that happened, he palmed the phaser into a firing position, took a half second to aim, then pressed the firing stud.

The beam of orange light shot from the emitter at the front and struck the Hydran in the back. At that setting, the only thing that could happen at all was for the creature to disintegrate. Once that happened, the Bajoran took a single deep breath, feeling a peculiar twinge of guilt. The fact that he'd had to open fire wasn't bothering so much as the necessity of having shot the creature in the back. Sure, it had been the practical option, but it bothered him nonetheless.

Still, he didn't have time for that right now. Emotional concerns had to be put aside for the moment, and he had to get back to work. You didn't dawdle while bugging the Hydran Chamber of Commerce.

* * *

The alarm made Saul's stomach try to escape its owner through his throat . It was a high-pitched shriek that encouraged panic among the Humanoid merchants that were standing in line. Within seconds, the light of multiple transporter beam appeared around them, and soon they were surrounded by Hydran guards.

There were shouts and screams as the guards began to herd the visitors at the chamber and usher them back toward the exit, where two Hydrans were standing with two large devices.

"Scanners...", Saul murmured, and then neared one of the Hydran guards. "Sir, what happened?"

"Phaser fire was detected in the chamber."

Saul raised his eyebrows. "Don't you try to detect weapons on every person who enters the offices?"

In response, he was only shoved toward the entrance.

As soon as he was out, he rushed toward a quiet place and contacted Miramon. "Leave now, NOT through the main entrance.", he instructed, barely able to contain the anxiety growing in his belly.

* * *

The Bajoran had moved long before the commlink had buzzed with Saul's voice. He could only imagine how irritated his human friend would be that they'd found themselves potentially compromised. That was going to take some explaining.

Still, with the alarms going off, he really didn't have much choice but to try and find a way out, and not be detected in doing so. If he knew more about the layout of the place, it'd have been far easier - locate a backdoor or something. Still, that wasn't likely going to be an option - the appropriate exits would be covered, and it wasn't going to be possible to fight his way out. Moving as quickly and as quietly as he could, given the circumstances, it was difficult to suppress a sigh of irritation, all in all.

He'd withdrawn his phaser and kept it to hand, just in case this 'escape' did turn into a firefight. If it did, he'd rather have something to shoot back with - besides, between this and wheeling around space in a Federation shuttle being chased by Dreshayans, he was beginning to get used to being shot at. But, as Saul had said when they were last on Bajor, he didn't have a problem using a phaser, he just had a problem with other people using a phaser on him.

Now all he had to was find a handy airvent to crawl through...

* * *

Five blocks away, each minute was an eternity of concern. The stench from the nearby factories assaulted Saul's nostrils, but he paid no heed to it. Instead, he remained alert, expecting any minute to hear the Hydrans approaching.

He was just about to contact Madden through the emergency channel when someone strode into the alley. He had only two legs, and his clothes were spotted with soot.

"Danar.", Saul stepped out. "It was you wasn't it?"

Miramon nodded, breathing deeply as he did so. After a moment, he looked Saul in the eye, raising a fair eyebrow in response. "Well, unless you wanted to equip me with a personal cloaking device, there was always the possibility I was going to be detected."

"Verdomme! Let's get the crap out of here.", Saul sputtered, and grabbed Miramon's sleeve. "What were you thinking, carrying a phaser in there?? I didn't carry a phaser. Why did you carry a phaser? And why did you use it?!"

"Well, let me think. We're in hostile territory, and were bugging government offices on a Hydran world. Why are you not carrying a phaser? Common sense suggests you might need one." Miramon noted, his tone light, and almost carrying his usual underlying amusement with it, but obviously he meant everything he said quite seriously. "I was spotted by one of the Hydrans, and I had no choice. It was either going to be it or me. I wasn't aware they'd detect the phaser fire remotely, but that was a chance that had to be taken."

"Did it threaten to attack you?"

Miramon shook his head, but he felt he best explain anyway. "It was carrying a disruptor, and though it didn't threaten to fire, if I failed to comply with it, it likely would have shot me. And even had it not, the security risk was too great to let it have seen my face and walk away. You know that." "I don't agree.", Saul shook his head sharply. "Did the Hydran see you... lay down presents?" "I don't know. I never saw it approach. I heard it speak outloud and when I looked behind me, there it was. How long it had been standing there, I've no idea." "Understand, Miramon. We are civilian off-worlders." Saul hissed. His left hand was in his pocket, activating the white-noise generator. "Traders. We have done nothing wrong. He wants to take you to questioning? That's totally OK. We have nothing to hide, except for the fact that our ores' quality might not be as premium as we told them. You want to know why I wasn't carrying a phaser? Because it didn't make sense for a merchant to walk into the local chamber of commerce carrying his weapon. I thought it was so obvious I didn't even THINK of asking you if you left your weapon on the ship. EVERYTHING is based on this approach, Miramon, everything. You know what would've happened if you hadn't shot him? He would've escorted you back in line. He saw your face? No problem. The next time he sees it--" Will be when we blast this planet to seven hells in the next war, Saul mused. His face wasn't red, but his eyes shrank to slits and his voice was sharp and cold. "He won't be seeing anything anytime soon. And sure, if it had just been me, I'd have been happy to sit through his quick-fire questioning. But, in case you hadn't noticed, I look human but am not, and I'm carrying equipment that isn't standard issue for any trader - our little bugs for one, as well as the phaser. Now, if it'd been you, fine, you could do that. But I wasn't willing to take the risk."

"The bugs dissolve when scanned directly, and the phaser wasn't supposed to BE THERE. Allah be merciful, do you realize that they might have your face on camera? If that's the case, we're as good as dead."

"If they had my face on camera, they'd have caught me long before I fired my phaser. But as it is, all they know is that a phaser was fired. They don't know who fired it, so we should be relatively safe for the moment." "Especially if THIS works.", Saul pointed at the small bulge in Miramon's pocket. It was the case where the 'bugs' were stored. It looked like a game cube from outside. It also had some other interesting features, including a nullifier that was supposed to counter most scanning devices, including visual ones. With some luck, even if they did have Miramon's photo, it would be blur. "That said, it was a risk we shouldn't have taken.", Miramon concluded.

"Perhaps. We need to report this to Hancock.", Saul sighed. "But we can't do it via our communicator. Can't take the chance of the message being intercepted."

The Bajoran nodded, quickly moving to dust off his clothing, as much as was possible without making more of a mess. "She's not going to be pleased with this, you know," he stated in his manner-of-factly tone. Saul stopped next to a pile of garbage, and after a moment of scrubbing his chin pulled out two twin bags.

"Let's hope this won't make her abort the entire mission. The Hydrans will probably scan the building for bugs tomorrow or the day after, after the mayhem settles down. This should give us enough time to complete the mission. Come, we need to do some more damage before we can call it a day.", Saul concluded, and offered Miramon one of the bags.

It contained a technician's attire.

Stranded: Part III"

By: Pilot Ayden O'Connor
Pilot Ember Lansky

==--==

In the semi-darkness, Ember sat watching the orange flames dance as they sent up brief sputters of sparks into the air. Earlier, when she entered the abandoned building, she had found it empty with some pieces of damaged equipment, debris and trash strewn around the area. After clearing out a space for the two of them, she had cleaned up Ayden's head wound and applied the dermal regenerator on the cuts he had sustained from the fall. He had stayed unconscious through the ordeal, which was a good thing really. He could use the rest.

His wet uniform had been stripped off and hung to dry on a makeshift clothesline tied above the fire. Leaving the tank top on, she had done the same herself. Now, with nothing left to do except munch on a pack of dry rations, time seemed to slow to a crawl. She badly wanted to venture outside to see if she could round up some Jemmies and filch some weapons off them. She felt too vulnerable with only one handheld phaser between the two of them. But she simply could not bring herself to leave Ayden alone and unprotected. Dammit. If only the comm. badge worked.

It was like he was waking up knowing that he'd rather stay unconscious. The pinging headache roared through his skull like he had consumed way too much romulan ale. Ayden's eyes fluttered with a start as they slowly opened up to an environment he wouldn't have expected. It looked like the inside of a building, and immediately he was worried that they had been caught by the Jem'Hadar. "Ember!" He lurched up suddenly before dizziness brought him back down with a thud.

Ember was beside him in an instant, the pack of rations dropped on the ground and neglected. "Hey, slow…" She coaxed, gently helping him to sit up with her arm around him. "You took a nasty hit on the head." A teasing smile curved her lips, "No heroics now." Even when he had fully sat up, she stayed close, letting him lean his weight against her while she held him.

Ayden didn't contest to her aid, in fact he welcomed it. Even though his head felt as though it were ready to split into two pieces, part of him was glad to be this close to her again. He allowed a slow sigh to escape the confines of his throat, reaching around with a hand he cupped his head, squeezing lightly with his fingertips as if to sooth the headache.

When he opened his eyes again, he watched the flickering light of the small fireplace Ember had built dance against the long neglected walls of what seemed to be an outpost of some sort. That was when he noticed the fact that his uniform was hanging right above it, alongside with...

He looked down first, and when his head then tilted to face the woman who just a while ago had saved his life, his theory confirmed in that she had stripped away their soaking wet uniforms to prevent hypothermia, bearing little more than modest veils to defend their distinctive qualities. Incredibly modest especially when it came to Ember's stunning physique.

Suddenly... he was feeling a little warmer.

It seemed entirely irresponsible for him to be thinking about the sexual vivification stirring up on him, given the fact that they were stranded and lost. And as long as this was the Ember he had met since boarding the Galaxy, there was no doubt that those thoughts were incredibly far from her mind. She had an amazing skill to push away such irrelevances. He had to at least seem to be capable of that much determination.

In an effort to pull his mind from their obvious exhibitions, he tried to change the subject. "Where are we?" He asked lightly.

Ember had followed the direction of his gaze, and saw the way the look on his face changed from bewilderment to something… else. She had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from releasing an outburst of laughter. But at the same time, she was beginning to feel just a little too warm, and it wasn't from the fire alone.

"It'll sound terribly unprofessional, but…" She gave him a small sideways grin. "I don't know. It's probably some sort of abandoned military or research station though." She indicated the rusted and mostly unidentifiable equipment that was lying around, then looked back at him. "So, are you hungry? We've quite a spread… dry rations, dry rations, and *more* dry rations." Ember chuckled. That was one of the few things they had managed to salvage from the aft wreckage of the runabout. If she could have brought herself to leave him alone in this building, she might have been able to find some game to add to their food variety, but that was out of the question.

Was he hungry? Yes, but not necessarly for dry rations. As hard as it was for him to admit this to himself, being around her was driving him completely wild. Maybe it was because of how she left him in the turbolift, abandoned with months of pent up sexual frustration in the works. Even now, he found himself especially aware of the way his left shoulder was grazing perfectly across her mid section, the firmness of her breasts, even underneath the tunic, further invigorating his arousal. That was when he finally noticed that the air around them was still cold, even despite the warming fire.

No, laying against her for support certainly wasn't helping him keep his mind on more important matters. He casually pulled himself away and laid against a nearby wall. Clearing his thoughts wasn't so easy, but he finally managed to divert *most* of his attention on the real situation at hand. Good thing too... because it wasn't about to be much longer until there was an obvious cue of his interest. "Umm... sure, right now I think I could eat just about anything." He said with his forced sense of calm.

With him leaning against the wall, Ember pulled away and moved to the other side to take another pack of ration from the backpack. It felt strangely empty, not to mention chilling without him in her arms, and when she returned to his side again, she had to fight the urge to wrap herself around him, move their bodies intimately close together. She smiled, but given the direction of her thoughts, it wavered slightly. She tried to distract herself with opening the pack, then held the bar to his mouth, ready to feed him. "Not the most appetizing, but it fills the stomach," She said encouragingly.

Ayden was caught off guard by how close her hands were to his face, and how ready she seemed to feed him. It was an interesting concept, and a farcry from how they had been battling each other over the last month. He looked towards her and smiled, his desire to kiss her nearly overwhelming. If that was the only thing he could taste of her, it would surely be her lips. "Thanks, Ember..." he replied, raising his hands and taking hers in them as he slowly pulled the bar away. He did it with the purposeful intention of holding her for those few seconds, if anything to see where they were at this moment.

She didn't hit him, or seem repulsed... so that was a good thing at least.

Ember hesitated for a few seconds, the air between them pulsing with the heat from both their bodies. And then, before she could rationalize further, she leaned in and kissed him. In that instant, it was like they had both caught fire. The desire was so intense she could barely breathe, and it was all there in the urgency of the kiss, unable to be contained.

Ayden was again invigorated by her passion, he cupped her head and pressed her lips harder against his. His hands drew down her arms and around her waist as he desperately searched for the easiest way to remove her shirt. As his fingers brushed against her waist, he felt a sudden surge from below and knew that he was ready for her. But then something reminded him of the turbolift only a day before. His eyes burned into hers fiercely, he so wanted to taste her again. But there was something he had to know first. "Ember..." he panted, moaning softly just as her fingers finally found his arousal. "I hope you don't run off like the last time."

"Shhh…" She hushed, covering his mouth with kisses that silenced his doubts, parting from him only momentarily to help him remove the shirt she wore. More emboldened than abashed at her nudity, she turned her attention back towards him and lowered his pants. Something about his statement had unnerved her, even if she didn't show it. Instead, she kept her hesitation concealed by fiercely pushing him back against the ground. Despite the intensity that burned between them, she seemed to care enough to have remembered his head injury, her hand automatically sliding to the back of his head to cushion the impact as he lied down.

Her mouth trailed a path down his chest, letting the answer to his question speak for itself when she took him in her mouth. A mark of her desire, or a desperate evasion - it was just as eloquent.

There wasn't much for Ayden to say after that, filled with the unreplaceable satisfaction of having her. He layed his hands around her head, intertwining his fingers around her soft brown hair. His started to draw heavy breaths, every inch of his body surging with invigorating excitement.

It occurred to him that despite the fact that they had known each other for nearly a year now, this would have only been the third time they were intimate, this occasion being by far the most they've ever been. It never got this far before, and he always wondered why. She had always retracted her desires at the last moment, and he never understood why.

There was a hint in his consciousness that said the same thing would happen again, that there was some piece to her life that precluded her from getting too close to him. He first noticed it when they were interacting on separate holodecks thousands of lightyears away from each other. Up until then they had always had fun together, and she made him feel complete. But when simple recreation turned into their first intimate encounter, she withdrew.

Ever since then, it had been a toss with her. Ayden still didn't completely understand the situation, and even in moments like now... his thoughts lingered on a singular question. Can we be happy together? Or will she always leave whenever she feels vulnerable.

Then he came back to the moment, his every nerve nearing an explosion of satisfaction. Realizing that it couldn't come to this so quickly, he pulled Ember up, drawing her lips towards his where he began to kiss her fiercely, passionately.

Ember returned his kisses with passion, but when his hand strayed towards giving her gratification, she gently clasped his wrist, looking up and into his eyes, playfully. "I think you need some rest, Ayden." She leaned into him and touched her lips to his together again, tenderly. "It's a long day tomorrow. Get some sleep. I need it even if you don't." Even as she was pulling away, she put it so sweetly that it seemed that her reaction was entirely out of concern for his well-being. Her gaze was dancing with affection, and she gave him a wink before pushing herself up off the floor.

Again, Ayden savored the taste of her, reluctantly allowing her to pull away while offering her little resistance. But when she tried to pick herself up, he took her hand firmly, a gentle smile creeping from his scraped face. Her puzzled glance was answered as he drew her down close to him so that she was laying aside him. "Then rest next to me..." he ushered quietly, their eyes dancing so close to each other. His arm drew around her neck as he pulled her head slowly upon his chest.

For the first time, Ember didn't protest, letting her eyes flutter close and listened to the sound of his heart beating - steadily, surely, as the night settled quietly around them.

Ens. Artim - Medical Officer
Ens. Zavian - Foriegn Exchange Medical Officer
with

Dr. Valera - Romulan Science Officer

"The New Guy"

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

The suit covered almost his entire body, leaving only his face and fingers exposed. It was designed by Starfleet to keep his body from dehydrating, but he found it confining and uncomfortable. No Vorducaat had ever attempted modifying their own body, but if he couldn't get used to the suit he might resort to drastic measures.

Nyoko had dropped him off at the infirmary and he wandered in, wincing at the harsh lights. He didn't see anyone else at first and he meandered toward one of the consoles, attracted by the blinking lights. It was far colder to the touch than he expected, and he pulled his hand back in a jerky motion. He couldn't understand why humans would want to surround themselves such staleness.

Artim was sitting hunched over his console eating the food that normally calmed his nerves while working, a large oatmeal chocolate chip cookie a tall glass of milk. To most people the stream of biochemical information and protien coding from the Jem'hadar below would have been boring them to tears. To Artim it was mildly interesting. Showed what a dork he was.

Normally the swoosh of the door opening wouldn't have caused Artim to even notice, but this time he fealt the urge to look up. If he hadn't seen a note from Dr. Burton that some new alien exchange officer would be joining the department, Artim would have wondered what the blue thing wearing the suit was doing there. However, he had and he'd also heard of the Vorducaat from Valera. Interesting group they were.

"Computer, increase relative humidity to 85% and increase temperature 3 degrees." the computer beeped in compliance as the Miran looked up at Zavian. "Thought that would make you feel more comfortable. To be honest, I can't stand it either, I just learned not to say anything. You must be Zavian."

For a moment, Zavian's eyes darted around the room, looking for this 'computer' person the small human was talking to. He looked down and scratched the side of his face to hide his embarrassment when he remember that humans talked to their technology.

"Yes, I must," he said, leaning forward, looking Artim over closely.

"..and I'm Artim" Artim hadn't been studied for a long time, at least not this intently. OK, so there was the two Elaasian women. Too bad their tears didn't work on him. Seeing the way the amphibioid was looking at him, he was sure the poking and prodding was coming.

"Have a nice trip?" Artim said trying to make small talk.

Indeed Zavian did want to touch Artim; Vorducaat were able to determine a lot about a person's genetics simply by touching them. Nothing extremely detailed, of course, but there were subtle differences in people that they were able to pick up.

"No, I didn't," Zavian replied moving his hand up slowly, but stopped himself halfway. "The Rihannsu have less desire to be accommodating as humans," he explained. Many lower ranked Romulan officers thought of the Vorducaat as a necessary evil, begrudgingly accepting their existence. But that didn't mean they were going to like it.

"But I survived."

"All we can ask for sometimes. " Artim said as he quickly keyed in some commands for the computer to continue the analysis he'd asked for. "Though my expereinces with the Romulans have been somewhat better. Oh, and feel free to poke and prod, I know that's what your kind does. I'm a bit used to it actually."

Zavian crept up to Artim like predator to it's prey, fingers extended in front of him. Because of the temperature change, they were cold and clammy, but he didn't really notice. He touched Artim on the top of the head, brow furrowed as he worked his fingers down.

Being touched by the slimier skin of the amphiboid was an unusual feeling to say the least. So was getting drinks from a blob of black goo, the Sheliak bartender being about the closest that could come to this in his experience. The packet didn't say why Vorducaat like to touch people, but Artim figured it was something like Bajorans custom of grabbing people's ears. Annoying, but it served its purposes for them.

Shifting gears, Artim said, "I read in your file that your species, and you in particular have a talent for Genetics. I've been working on a little project that's a bit of a genetic mystery, think you're ready for work?"

Zavian didn't answer right away. He prodded Artim's skin for a moment longer, brow becoming more and more furrowed. Similarly to the ability Bajoran priests claimed to have, Zavian could gather information about a person by touching them.

"You are.. older than you should be," Zavian muttered, letting his hands drop to his side. There was something about Artim that seemed off to him now, but he couldn't tell what without a more thorough investigation.

"Wasn't exactly my choice, universe has a way of punishing those who try to play with the fabric of life. So maybe I'm exactly as old as I should be." Artim said as he wiped the slime from his face with his uniform sleeve. Hopefully he'd be satisfied and wouldn't need to prod him anymore

"If you're done, I think we should get to work, unless you want a cookie. They're good, at least most species think so."

Zavian took the offered cookie and examined it closely. It didn't look particularly appetizing and he hid it under a console when Artim wasn't looking. Acting innocent, he walked to the screen that Artim was working at and looked over his shoulder. He frowned after a moment when it became clear that the numbers and graphs on the screen meant nothing to him.

Artim wondered for a second why Zavian wasn't understanding the information on the screen. He just about made a comment he would regret about the Vorducaat's intellegence. Then he remembered reading something in the packet they'd gotten. Vorducaat had some odd way that for a lack of a better word that they 'fealt' data. Sounded different but fascinating at the same time.

"I forgot that your kind perceives information differently then we do. These are genetic samples from the Jem'hadar from the planet below which are somehow different from most Jem'hadar. The picture there is how we represent DNA and the base pair sequences."

Artim was about to explain more when he heard his com panel chirp to life.

"Dr. Artim, Dr. t'Serov on the comm from the Iaavfi for you." The duty ops officer said.

"Route it here." Artim said as he sat down by the panel. "I'll explain more in a minute." he said as Valera's image appeared on the screen.

"Artim, how are things coming."

"Valera, you're late. I just got things started here with our new medical officer Zavian."

"The Vorducaat? He's very good, spoke of highly amongst his kind. Part of why he was chosen, I was on the comittee. Have you gotten your genes prodded yet?"

"So that's what he was doing, interesting. I assume you're on your way then?"

"Change of plans. Your captain doesn't want one of us on board right now, something about a security situation. Your captain and our commander have agreed that we can work together on the Iaafvi. I've also found some equipment my predecessor had put in storage and didn't tell us about. Feel free to bring Zavian along as well, he might be useful."

"Very well", Artim replied somewhat suspicious and interested at the same time. "I'll beam over in a few minutes once I get some things togehter."

"I'll be waiting.Valera out." and the screen went blank. Artim turned back to Zavain and said,

"Well, guess we'll have to continue this over there, assuming of course you're ready to be back with the Rhiannsu again so soon. Its up to you."

Zavian extended his hands with his palms up in a sign of indifference. "I will help if I can," Zavian replied.

The quarters he was living in on the Galaxy were the closest thing to home he had available to him on either ship. Public areas on the Galaxy were just as uncomfortable for him as they would be on the Rhiannsu ship would be. At least over there, he wouldn't feel like he was being watched at all times.

"Good. Meet me in transporter room 5 in ten minutes and bring whatever equipment you think we'll need", Artim said as he scampered off to make his preperations."

[OOC: Yes, this is a *major* backpost, but such is life sometimes. If you don't like that sort of thing, don't read it. ;) Takes place soon after the vanquishing of the Dithparu.]

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"Weep Not for the Memories"

Cmdr. Karyn Dallas
Chief Counselor, Second Officer

Lt. Cmdr. Brian Elessidil
Asst. Chief Counselor

Staring out into space, Brian stood in silence, his back to his friend and mentor. Physically, he was well again, the effects of the Naprolex completely gone from his system. Likewise, the Dithparu too, was gone. What remained were the memories and their horrible after-effects.

There was little question to whom the Galaxy's assistant chief counselor would go to begin trying to work through the trauma of possession by an alien entity. From the sheer number of crew who required counseling following the encounter with the beings, Brian was necessarily the first in line on the chief counselor's list. He was of no use to the department or the ship until he was mentally able once again.

"I had to watch as *I* killed four officers," he said quietly. Like his voice, his stare was little more than a vacant awareness of what was going on around him. The shock of the recollections were made only slightly more bearable by the fact that the encounter had left him temporarily without his telepathic and empathic abilities; feeling the addition pain of others was unimaginable.

Karyn sat quietly facing him, her hands folded in her lap and her posture more upright than normal. She was very aware that she was counseling not just one of her crew, but one of her own. Dallas had no intention of hurrying this process along just so she could have him share the workload before him, but she knew that Brian still felt an obligation to deal with things in order to get back to work. It was an unusual position to be in, and she was careful to keep tabs on her own reactions. "Was it you?" she asked, finally breaking the silence.

Another gap of silence followed before Elessidil replied. "I know . . . ." he finally said in a vacant tone. "I'm not sure what's worse, feeling somehow responsible or just reliving the nightmare over and over again of having witnessed it all and being helpless to prevent it." He turned to face her. Although his crying hadn't been audible, his face glistened with tears. "Karyn, I would have taken the whole store of Naprolex if I had to to put an end to that. I may have gone into a coma and never come out, but at least I wouldn't have to go through that anymore and no one else would get hurt."

Karyn touched Elessidil's forearm in a sign of support. "No one would get hurt except you and the people you care about," Dallas asserted gently. She smiled wanly. "What is it we tell people when they start blaming themselves for things they could not control?"

"Not to let their emotions cloud their perspective; to remember that we can't control everything that happens around us and that it's not reasonable to assume responsibility for those things," he replied with a resigned sigh. Karyn was right. She was usually right. But despite her insight or even his own, Brian found it far more difficult to apply than to advise. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to believably say that to anyone again."

Karyn looked Elessidil in the eyes and saw the haunted, almost glassy stare. She smiled gently. "Someone's only been paying attention to half of what I say. I know those words are easier said than done, but the message is not just for people to 'get over it' like they think, it's about helping people give their feelings a time to be. Emotions cloud our perspectives half the time because we spend all our energy resisting their existence. I can't know how much it hurts, Brian, I know, but I do know *you,* and you're going to need to learn to forgive yourself for who you are and what you feel now."

He instinctively wrapped his arms around himself as if to ward off the chill that seemed to permeate every cell. "There was a memorial of sorts for Ensign Renkert yesterday. I went out of . . . I don't know, a sense of obligation, I guess. Lieutenant Grey was there and we talked for awhile; I think she was one of her best friends here." He swallowed at the recollection of his conversation with the engineer. "She forgave me on Ensign Renkert's behalf . . . but it was still so hard to think I could have been the cause -- unwilling or not -- of so much pain for so many people. And Nurse Mehl . . . he's the one that haunts me the most . . . I could feel every second of his shock and fear . . . and I don't-..." Brian's voice caught in his throat in spite of his best efforts to hold his composure. "...I don't know . . . . 'Forgive and forget', Karyn . . . 'Forgive and forget'," he whispered hoarsely, his gaze shifting from the other counselor to the floor and back again. "Even...even if I can forgive myself, I'll...how will I ever forget?" he managed to say before putting his hand over his eyes as the tears streamed anew.

But a few moments later, he got hold of himself again. Brian was already sick of this. Already emotionally exhausted and tired of simultaneously feeling hollow and out of control. It wasn't what he would have advised in a counseling session, but he was going to do his damndest to "suck it up" before he completely fell apart.

"Okay . . . enough," he said, sounding calmer but still stuffed up. He was working hard to get as close to normal again as he could. "Enough," he repeated quietly. "Duty may be the only thing that preserves my sanity . . . and I'm going to do everything I can to focus on that."

"But you're not going to succeed," Karyn answered firmly, but softly. "You can't use work to avoid this and as long as you're determined to get over this with a snap of your fingers, you never will. Remember when Lee was shot? How I tried to pretend it never happened? I spent a year of my life in a fog, Brian."

"What choice do I have, Karyn?" he asked, his impatience and confusion even more evident in his raised voice. "Do you really want me to just hide away in my quarters while I try to work through this? Do you think that's what Starfleet wants? Or the Captain? Do you think it's what *I* want? Please, if you have another option let me know, because all I can see right now is stay strong in its face or let it consume me entirely. Neither's perfect, but at least one lets me have a life."

"Staying strong and facing it or staying strong while ignoring it? Perhaps it is time to focus on you. You said it yourself, you've been through this before. What quality of life will you have if you continue to fight that which can't be ignored?"

Brian remained silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond to her question -- or rather, unsure that he liked the challenge it presented.

"A normal one," he half-heartedly answered. Being a counselor was a liability when training interfered with time-honored traditions like denial and personal escapism.

Karyn refused to let him escape the moment. "If by normal you mean 'in denial' like a lot of the crew, then sure." Her tone was firm and dripping with the sarcasm she was accustomed to using.

"Maybe that's exactly what I mean. Maybe I just don't feel like facing my demons right now. Sometimes denial can be your best friend when it feels like there's simply too much to face."

"Perhaps a little too good a friend," Karyn answered ruefully. "It's simple operant conditioning. Every time you avoid the pain, you're reinforced for it. When you don't talk about it and you successfully avoid it, you learn that not facing it is better than tackling it head on. The mere possibility of confronting your demons creates such fear in your mind that it becomes your permanent way of dealing with all things unpleasant. But it will always be there, and in the meantime, we become the biggest hypocrites known to man and womankind."

She'd had to face her own reality with Victor. Still, no one on the Galaxy but the two medical officers, Ella, Kylar, and her own personal assistant had known what went on between them besides she and Victor. She'd sought help discreetly via Starfleet Medical's personal counseling services for counselors in the field, however, and she'd come to see how important that decision had been.

"Spare me the Psych 101 lesson, Karyn," he sourly retorted. But as quickly as he said it, something inside clicked. As if someone had just shown him a mirror, he realized what an ass he was being -- and to his best friend on the ship, who was only trying to help. He sighed. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, almost in a whisper.

"You've nothing to be sorry for, Brian," Karyn replied gently. "I never said it was going to be easy, just that it had to be done."

He looked askance, not feeling up to meeting her eyes just yet, and sighed, his voice still bearing a whisper-like quality. "I don't know if I can."

Karyn placed a reassuring hand on his forearm. "It's enough right now if you're willing to try."

"I killed four people...trying to face that is almost punishment in itself," Brian replied in something that started out as a chuckle but immediately turned once again to tears, as his voice caught in his throat and his eyes glistened over. He paused for a moment, composing himself while still looking off to some unknown distance. Then, with a deep breath, he turned his head to face Karyn again.

"Yeah...I'll try." It was the most he could promise.

Dallas smiled in something akin to pride and sorrow. She understood all too well how painful it was to face one's demons and she wanted to take that pain away as much as she knew she couldn't. "I always knew you could."

OOC: This one's for Lori M. and Dru, who asked to see a bit of a certain side to Kylar.

///

"Peeling Back the Layers"

By Kylar Curran, Chief Liaison Officer

== IHV Icon of Glory ==

When you're floating in a bowl full of jello and can't move, you've nothing to do but think.

You think about how to escape your prison first, and then when that's fruitless, you turn to wondering what it is that you did to get there. Then, when you've run through everything imaginable, you begin to degrade from the sensory deprivation and become filled with regret at the things you were never able to achieve in life. Throughout all this, the average person would be screaming for help.

But since you can't move, or speak even with a tube jammed down your throat, all you can do is scream in your head as terror threatens to overwhelm you. You begin talking to yourself mentally, biting and snapping at your weaknesses when you should be fighting to stay alert for any opportunity. Insanity slowly begins to take a foothold on you, or so you believe. Things happen around you that can't be anything but hallucinations.

He couldn't even close his eyes and die with a sense of dignity. His body propped up in the gelatinous liquid, his eyes pried open and soaked with the rosy murk... he imaged shaking his head since he couldn't do it physically.

Outside, movements could still be discerned, but he tended to ignore them. He no longer believed in the so-called reality around him. He forged his own.

----

He drew strength from the embrace of his ministers in the pools of reflection. Steam roiled up around him, his naked pores glistening with the moistures rent from them by the incessant humidity and hot springs he was bathed in. The tentacles caressed his body as they drew him in close to enfold his human form within the richness of what it is to be Kelvan.

The tips of leathery cups on the ends of the minister he had given himself to caressed his cheeks, one on each side, as more could be felt wrapping themselves around his body to tighten their grip on him.

He leaned back into the love, where his head was dipped below the surface of the still waters to fade beneath the oily depths of cresting foam.

Images of his life came to the forefront of his thoughts, the ministers bringing his strongest memories out for him to face and cleanse himself of.

The first image to present itself was that of an Andorian zhen, her cobalt-blue skin flawless in its appearance as it was framed by a mane of silky braided pure-white hair. Her antennae were pointed forward and down in the presentation of emotional interest in him. Linisha zh'threshivartha was someone he hadn't though about in some time. Why the minister chose to select this memory for purging was questionable, but he elected not to debate it. The abilities of the ministers to tend to the anguish and distraction their people who had taken on alien form were incomparable.

They found this thought to be disturbing to Kylar, and so it would be addressed.

Her thoughts and words echoed in his thoughts, becoming stronger as the tentacles tips pressed on his temples with more emphasis to focus on the memory.

"Kylar... why?" Her soft lips breathed lightly against him as he tended to the paperwork of a trial he was a member of panel of.

"I do not need to explain myself to you, Linisha. I am simply not interested." He stood up from his chair, arranging his pads into a specific order. He needed to focus. Being around Isha was not conducive to a decisive victory.

"Yes, you do, Kylar. This is my zhavey you're prosecuting. After all we shared together-" Curran slammed his padd down and cut off the zhen before she could go any further. He couldn't deny the powerful feelings that he'd shared with Isha when she'd brought him into her inner world. She was the only person who made an effort to give him any sense of invitation into the Andorian privacy that was harbored with such tenacity on their homeworld.

And he'd used it to his advantage, against the tide that made him begin to question his loyalties. He'd betrayed her, and now she was here to throw it in his face.

"Your zhavey is guilty, Isha. Your information proves it beyond a doubt. You have my gratitude."

"Your GRATITUDE?" Her antenna curtailed back and into themselves. Her anger was rising. "You used me, which in turn makes you UNGRATEFUL. I thought we had something after everything you saw? I was about to invite you to shelthreth. I wanted to be your bondmate! And you insult me? Do you have any idea what it means to be part of a quad? As a non-Andorian? You deny your feelings for me?"

Curran's emotions under the surface threatened to expose him. He had spent many hours and days with Isha, but hadn't expected this. He was a Kelvan. These blue-skinned humanoids were beneath him, or so he had thought when he first took the assignment to obtain evidence from her. He would not allow himself this weakness.

"Yes, I do. Thank you for your services." The lie did not come easy for him. He packed his pads into a carrying pouch and left her standing there, lost in tears and emotion.

Three days later, after he'd obtained his guilty verdict, he'd been told Linisha zh'threshivartha had committed suicide. He was not invited to her Sending.

----

The minister caressed his head, soothing away the guilt and flush of moisture that came from his eyes. The memory was accepted into the minister's psyche and spread into the pool of reflection, easing Curran's conscience with love.

----

The next image to rise from the depths of memory was of Karyn Dallas leaning over him in the backdrop of bright white. He remembered thinking she was an avatar of the heavens come to judge him for the failures of his past. His mind was weak and reeling from a psychological onslaught he couldn't quite remember. She was whispering words to him that he couldn't quite understand. He tried to focus on the dialogue with little success. Not even the amplified assistance of the minister could clear it up.

Everything became cloudy as she drew closer to him. Was she seducing him? Passing words of his defeat at her hand to him as a killer would with a clinical termination of an enemy by honorable combat? Would she give him dignity by slipping a blade between the humanoid ribcage to pierce his heart?

No. The minister showed him the true memory, the one Kylar had always known was there but had denied it only to see it come to him in nightmares.

The woman had *carried* him to his sleeping unit, given him a sedative, and watched him sleep.

How humiliating. What had brought her to him, though? Why was she there? To gloat, obviously, and hold blackmail over him. His vision faded, her red hair imprinting itself on his memory.

----

The minister gripped the Kelvan tightly as he began to convulse against the memory. Kelvans depended on no one but each other and themselves. Typically a private race on the level of Vulcans and Andorians when it comes to personal security, the knowledge that a human had been witness to one of their most private moments was wholly embarrassing. His renewed sense and need to kill her reared itself in the great roar of a Terran lion as it attacked its prey. Again, Kylar felt the memory be released from him and incorporated into the pools to be burdened by his kind in the greatest gesture of sharing and love.

----

Outside the pod unit where the Kelvan began reliving the most important and affecting memories of his lifetime, a lone Hydran operated a console that monitored his life support levels while he continued the experiment against the humanoid. A smaller, lumbering Warlord noticed the readings on one of the moss-colored terminals that were hanging over the pod, as one was over each one. Unit one had just shown an elevated level of [serotonin] in the first pod.

"Gi'Mev? Status of Pod 1. The human is experiencing anxiety?" She crossed the room, passing the female on the sterile metal table where two other scientists were experimenting on her uterine wall.

"Yes, Qasar'Mereth, but it is as a result of the memory impulse techniques employed by the experiment. I've accessed his core memory module and been able to locate a bank of memories that encompasses an individual the humanoid trusts implicitly. I believe we can begin the conversion process within one standard cycle."

"Very good, Gi'Mev. If successful, you will be promoted to Gi`Mereth. Do not disappoint me."

"Of course, Qasar'Mereth. For the Glory of the Union."

"For the Glory of the Union." The Gi nodded curtly, and turned back to peeling back the layers of the Kelvan's psyche.

"Fruits Of Labor"

Lieutenant JG Miramon Terrik, Team Flight Specialist -- "Danar"

Lieutenant JG Saul Bental, Team Infiltration Specialist -- "Raheem al-Hariri"

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

That night, Saul came alone to the Backbroken's Reward.

The rest of the crew wasn't there, so he left a coded message in the dead-drop they agreed upon previously, at a hidden compartment just next to the aft cargo hold. It explained (as much as possible using supposedly innocent code-words). He concluded with stating that he and Miramon will maintain low profile and radio silence for the next twenty two hours.

After he made sure that all the merchandise was transported - replicators and robotic parts to the Yridian trader, ores to the government - he vanished again into the night, and traveled nearly two hours before he finally reached the motel room he and Miramon rented, merely half a kilometer from the 'Reward'.

* * * The next day * * *

Saul and Miramon climbed to the roof of the sky scraper overlooking the Hydran commerce chamber offices.

The solar web of the building 'malfunctioned' the day before, right after Saul and Miramon's visit to the commerce chamber. Now, the technicians finally came to fix the problem. Of course, they needed to wear masks because of the danger of radical particles that may be projected from the damaged web.

Saul sat down just beneath the solar web, hidden from any orbital visual sensors, and activated a small hand-held device. They couldn't afford one of the team members constantly eavesdropping on the bugs they spread throughout the commerce chamber. So all the material in the bugs was stored, and later processed given several keywords.

Wonders of 24th. century technology. Eavesdropping apparently advanced more than Starfleet trousers.

"Heh, they're talking about the ores.", Saul chuckled as he heard the voices in the earpiece. then his face turned solemn. "They're directing them to civilian construction in the city. More living quarters to Hydrans. We already know that there are more of them here - that's not new."

"Well, you shouldn't sound so surprised by it." Miramon noted, his tone calm, but clearly waiting for the important stuff that was bound to be coming. "What's our next move?"

Saul seemed not to hear his words. A minute passed, and then he exhaled deeply. "OK. They didn't say anything important explicitly, but they've been constantly contacting two spots. One is a space platform called 'Reg'ykask', and the other is some place called 'Olor ten two.', or 'Olor fifty' in direct translation."

Saul contemplated for a moment while removing the earpiece. "Getting into the space platform is out of the question. Too risky. This 'Olor fifty', however, if it's on the planet I say we go and visit."

"You realize that 'Olor fifty' could just be some bar that they go to in their off-duty time, right? But, yes, I agree. We should give that a try. The more information we get, the better."

"Danar, I don't know how things work where you came from, but where I come from we don't call the local bar from work fourty-seven times a day."

Miramon grinned, but gave a gentle shrug. "And you call yourself a disreputable merchant?"

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