"What You Do . . ."

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

Lt. Cmdr. Brian Elessidil
Team Psionic/Diplomatic Specialist -- "Radu Prett"

Brian had spent a good portion of the day attempting to meditate. It was far from an ideal setting, but he had to do something before anger, frustration, despair, or hunger overwhelmed him. If he could just clear his mind he figured he'd have a better shot at thinking of a way out of this mess.

The quiet was suddenly shattered when he heard the sound of a door banging open, followed immediately by roughly shuffling feet and a loud yet familiar voice.

"... a legitimate businessman! Ina'al Abook ya ibn al Kalb!" The cell's door swung open, and a man was tossed onto the small space. His body hit the far wall, and he immediately jumped on his feet. He turned his head sharply toward Brian, who immediately recognized Saul Bental's surgically altered face.

"So YOU are the fake Radu Prett," 'Raheem' announced. "You have no idea how much trouble you caused me. Captain Hancock had all of the crew and passengers running around the port looking for you, and then what do I find out? That you are not really Radu Prett, and that the real Prett has unfriendly goons and a serious attitude problem. When he releases us, you WILL pay me compensation fees for the lost time."

He folded his arms, and sighed. "I shouldn't have taken the trip to this bloody planet. Could've sold my ores on Talaxia or even Trill for better prices. Kus Ochtok."

He sat down, leaning his head against the wall with mock despair. If that wasn't enough to make counselor Brian understand that Saul denied any connection to him, then nothing would suffice.

The Betazoid immediately knew what Saul was doing, both from common sense and telepathic impression. He wasn't sure whether to be happy or even more concerned to see another from the team. Saul's unexpected arrival meant that they were still on the planet and that he, at least, was still alive, but it also meant that he was now just as much a prisoner as Brian.

Uncertain if they were being monitored, the counselor wished Bental were a telepath; figuring out a way to communicate and still play along was going to be tricky.

"Who I am or am not is none of your concern. Why don't you just contact your precious captain now and have her send someone down to beat your compensation out of me?" he groused.

"With what?" Saul gestured helplessly at himself. "They took my communicator. Besides, knowing the Captain, she probably took off already."

And that was the truth. Chief Jayce told them to get back to the Backbroken's Reward within three hours. That's one train you didn't want to miss.

"How did you end up here, anyway?", Saul asked. "Me, I just stepped into this place, looking for Prett... or rather, for you."

"Prett didn't like me interfering with his 'business'. Pff...met up with some really fucked-up dirtbags in my life, but this guy's the worst. Trades in children." He tried to say it like it was only a matter of perverse fact, without revealing his true emotions about it. "I made the mistake of trying to help one."

"Helping people doesn't pay off in Vaden," Saul commented.

He slanted his eyes toward the bars that stood between them and the corridor. He single-handedly let himself fall into the situation, after patronizing Miramon and the rest for their lack of experience in clandestine activities.

'Who's the amateur now?' he thought.

After a few moments of silence, the sound of a door opening down the corridor -- the one through which the guards usually came and went -- interrupted Elessidil's thoughts. Rising to his feet, he walked over toward the bars, initially hoping someone was bringing food.

Then inspiration struck.

There was very little time, not even enough to somehow tell Saul about it ahead of time. It would also be very risky, with no guarantee whatsoever it would lead to anything other than their deaths, but he knew they had to try something.

Brian abruptly turned to where Saul was sitting and started shouting at him.

"You think I give a shit about your compensation?! Here's your fuckin' compensation!" he yelled. Then he spat at Saul and gave him a solid kick in the ribs. As much as the action was entirely against his nature as a Starfleet officer, a counselor and a Betazoid, he hoped Saul would understand that he was trying to egg him on into a fight.

Saul was stunned. He stared at Brian, unbelieving. Has the even-minded counselor gone mad? A thought crossed his mind - perhaps it was not Brian at all, perhaps the Hydrans were on to them and they cloned something to resemble the counselor, in order to extract more information from him.

He leapt to his feet, and gained as much distance from Brian as he could within the confines of the cell as he shouted for the guards to help him.

The counselor could sense Saul's concern and read his thoughts. He wished he had had a chance to prepare him, but he didn't. They would need a guard to respond and with one entering now, this was their chance.

Brian swiftly followed after. "Not so tough without your captain or your weapons, 'Raheem'?" he taunted, the punctuated the question with a punch to Saul's gut. "Come on! You want compensation? Take it!"

The Tactical Chief raised his fists, not quite sure what to do with them. The gaze that met Brian's eyes was close to inhuman..

"You're not leaving this cell alive, 'Prett'."

The punch was not unexpected, but it was swift enough to penetrate Brian's defences and hit his jaw. Alarmingly, he realized that the punch was in fact intended for his throat. It didn't pack much power, but caused his stumble backwards all the same.

Despite the fact that he'd just been hit by a fellow officer, the counselor was pleased this was going just as he hoped it would. Though he wouldn't mind it not having to go on too long.

"Then I'm taking you with me!" Brian shouted and dove headlong into Saul's midsection. They both hit the wall, fists flying . . . and right on cue came the guard.

"Damn idiots," he muttered, seeing the two now at each other full tilt. Setting down the tray of food he'd brought for them -- exactly the same stuff he'd brought Brian earlier, just more of it -- he opened the cell door. "Knock it off, you two!" he shouted, moving into break them up.

The only response he got was an obscene gesture from Saul, right before the Tactical Chief pounced at his opponent.

Just as the guard got his hand on Saul's shoulder, Brian shouted, "Now!" and immediately redirected his pummeling to the guard. It was an extremely risky move. He knew the guy was no weakling, and this would never have worked had Brian tried it by himself, but between the two of them, he was sure he and Saul could take him down.

If Saul understood what he was attempting -- and before more guards arrived on the scene.

Saul rolled sharply, breaking contact with the guard. The bulky man was trying to reach something - either Brian's neck, or the heavy club tied to his belt. He never completed the move, as Saul took advantages of his momentary lack of concentration, and slammed his fist into the guard's Adam's apple.

The instant the guy finally hit the floor, Brian bolted for the cell door. "Grab that thing off his belt!" he yelled back to Saul as he telepathically swept the corridor to make sure no one had responded yet.

They would have one shot at this. With no knowledge of the prison's layout or what security systems may be in place, they would have to find their way out of here or most likely die trying.

"Oldest trick in the friggin' book," Saul murmured, detaching the club and what seemed to be some sort of a needle gun from the unconscious man's belt. He then launched a kick to the back of the guard's head, which hit home with a sickening thud.

"How's the corridor?" he snarled at the counselor.

"It's clear -- for now," Elessidil informed. He so wanted to apologize to Saul for the battering they had both taken, but there was no time for that now. "I have no idea where the guards could come from, but I think we should stay away from the door he came in from," he said, immediately turning the opposite direction and running down the corridor.

"Lead the way. Oh, and remember the advice you gave me in the counselling session?"

Saul raised the needlegun, lining the sight with Elessidil's head. "Repeat it."

Counseling was the last thing Brian had on his mind at the moment as he continued down the corridor, but he understood what Bental was doing. Frankly, he didn't blame him. After all, Brian's behavior up to this point was nothing close to typical for him.

He thought quickly, trying to recall what seemed like such an obscure detail in the midst of their current situation. "Um...I think I encouraged you to talk...or write....or draw...find ways to...to step out of your head and connect with your feelings," he said between breathing and trying to concentrate on their surroundings.

The needlegun moved eye as Saul smiled slyly. "Glad to meet you again. Had to make sure you're you. Let's get out of here."

". . . And What You Leave Behind"

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

Lt. Cmdr. Brian Elessidil
Team Psionic/Diplomatic Specialist -- "Radu Prett"

As they continued, they passed several cells with large, latched doors. They appeared like they may have been *slightly* more comfortable than the one he had been kept in, but not by much. These were obviously where the children stayed at night.

He thought about them, Kaffa in particular. He still didn't know what had happened to her. Was she alive? Would she or any of the other children leave if they could? For a split second, Brian almost stopped in his tracks, suddenly feeling like this was selfish; that while these children lived out their lives as nothing more than slaves, he was trying to save his own skin and get back to his relatively cushy life on a starship. But he knew it would do no good. Even if he knew how to get to them, even if it were possible to convince them to get out, he knew he could never do it alone, not even with Saul's help. It sickened him to have to give in to the realization that there was nothing he could do for them; not now, anyway. As futile and as cowardly as it seemed, he'd have a much better chance at doing something for them away from here. There would be a report to write up on this mission, there would be people in high places with all kinds of legitimate -- and otherwise -- connections who, if informed of what was happening here, might find a way to stop it. But even that was nothing more than a long shot. The odds that anybody he could get to could effect any kind of change in Hydran territory were almost as bleak as his and Saul's prospects of getting out of here alive.

At the far end of the corridor, they had a choice to make. There was another corridor that continued off to the left, or there was a door directly in front of them. He had no idea where it led, but something told him it was the preferable option.

"I'm thinking we should try this," Brian said as he tested the heavy iron handle. It was locked. "Can we get it open?" The sounds of running footfalls and shouting were growing louder behind them, and while they and the guards hadn't seen each other yet, it would only be a matter of seconds before they did -- and he and Saul would never make it out of a fight if it came to that.

"Get back," Saul warned. He aimed the needlegun at the narrow gap between the door and its frame. The locking mechanism seemed sturdy, but the actual bars may be the weak spot.

The green ray left a scorch mark on the door, and the air filled with the unmistakable smell of ozone. Saul and Brian exchanged glances, and kicked the door open together.

Stairs. The door led to a flight of stairs, part of which went down, further underground, and the other up. The question was, which way made more sense? Up was where they ultimately wanted to go, but that undoubtedly led to Prett and his men. Brian decided they at least had a chance if they went down, hoping it wouldn't end up being a dead end in every sense.

After descending about four flights, they came to another large door. Repeating the procedure they'd used to get through the previous door, the two men found themselves in a dark tunnel of sorts. The air smelled of must and other foul things, and it took them only a moment to deduce that they were now somewhere in or near the sewer system under the streets of Vaden. Despite the inhospitable surroundings, it was a welcome sight.

As they continued running through the cavernous tunnel, Brian noticed that he could no longer hear their pursuers. Had they given up the chase already? Next to him, Saul breathed heavily. His calves were strained, and his ribs still ached from Brian's beating; But sheer adrenaline took him forward. It also almost made him miss the ladder.

He signalled toward Brian, and changed the direction of his sprint. Quickly, the counselor followed. They climbed for quite awhile, long enough that the counselor didn't even consider looking down behind him, but eventually made it to a hatch that opened to an alleyway at the surface.

They were free, and soon they blended into the scattered passers-by, slowing to a quick walk, but still keeping an eye out for followers.

As they made their way, uneasy thoughts filled Elessidil's head. Something about that had been too easy. Obviously the ancient dungeon hadn't been fitted with hi-tech security, owing most likely to its age and the fact that it primarily served as a dormitory of sorts for the children rather than a true prison. But why had the guards broken off their pursuit? A number of possible answers came to his mind, but they didn't matter. Despite having gotten out alive, he found that his thoughts remained with the children, the weight of the reality that he couldn't help them making his own escape seem meaningless.

Saul could see where his companion's thoughts were. He rested his hand on Brian's shoulder.

"Somewhere on Vaden, right now, someone is being murdered. Someone is being raped, and someone is being cheated. We can't save them all. Certainly not right now. When we get back home, we can return to contribute our little share in improving this place. But not now."

"Yeah," was all the counselor could manage at the moment.

"I'm more concerned with the fact that some of my equipment was left behind," Saul said. If Prett realizes how the 'magic bar' isn't just your everyday metal strip, a bundle of SFI technological secrets will go down the sewers. It was troubling news, but Brian would trade a hundred technological secrets for one child any day.

He silently vowed that he would do whatever he could to help them, no matter how futile the effort.

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

As Brian and Saul made their way into the tunnel, unbeknownst to them, Prett called off his guards.

"The spies have escaped," the leader of his guards reported.

Seated calmly at his desk, Prett just smiled. He knew the security in the dungeon wouldn't be sufficient to stop someone who really wanted to get out, but he didn't care. In the end, Brian and Saul had been little more than annoyances. He'd been in business for a long time, and owing to his chameleon-like skills and the general lawlessness of this part of Hydran space, he knew there was no danger of that changing. But that wasn't the only reason he was so relaxed at the moment.

"Oh, they'll actually be with us for a long time to come," he casually said to his guard. He held up a small vial and handed it to the man. "Ship this to the laboratory; they will be expecting it."

"May I ask what it is, Sir?"

"Just a little gift our former guests unwittingly left behind: small samples of skin, hair and blood...perfect for extracting DNA. We'll be starting a couple new lines of children soon."

CATALYST

"Catalyst" - Part 1

Captain Cassius Henderson, Commanding Officer

Lieutenant Doctor Kimberly Burton, Chief Medical Officer

with... Lieutenant Tarin Iniara, Chief Operations Manager

****

Holodeck 6, Deck 11, USS Galaxy

Captain Henderson arrived at the holodeck, purposely a few minutes before his companion. They had broken orbit over Tru'Haran earlier that day, and were preparing to depart the Typhon Expanse and return to Deep Space 5. That fact didn't sit very well with him. There were approximately three hundred Jem'Hadar refugees inhabiting every spare set of quarters, and two of the smaller cargo bays. If he returned to Deep Space 5, they would cease to be his responsibility. Instead, they would be at the mercy of Admiral Livia Proctor.

He mentally shuddered at the thought. Admiral Proctor's bigotry had nearly gotten them killed over the Mirusa VI dig site. Beyond that, she was responsible for Captain M'Kantu being called before a competency hearing on charges that were, in his mind, ludicrous. But it wasn't her previous actions that worried him. It was what they said about her. Under her supervision, Goran'Agar's people were more likely to be imprisoned as allowed to have their own place.

There had to be a better way, he was convinced.

However, tensions were running high all over the USS Galaxy as crew members adjusted to the influx of Jem'Hadar refugees, and the knowledge that several of their own had been tortured. He had been about to develop a headache when the computer's chime had reminded him of a promise he'd made several weeks previously.

There were a lot of preconceptions coming into this meeting, and he wanted to set those aside before they began. As the holodeck doors hissed shut behind him, Cassius stopped at the entry arch to call up the program he wanted. The black and yellow grid of the holodeck shifted into a sun lit dojo, complete with a pair of nondescript human men in Starfleet workout clothes. The two men stood silently, awaiting instruction.

Cassius stepped into a side room to change out of his uniform and into something more suited for exercise.

The promise was one that the recipient was personally none too pleased about. Hand to hand combat was a pet hate of the still fairly new CMO. However, since Commander Kol had made his feelings and orders on the subject clear she had little choice but to concede… Still, he could make her recertify, but there was no power in the universe she realized that could actually make her have to use the skills! She still couldn’t recall exactly how the offer of the tutoring and recertification session had been broached with Captain Henderson. ~Ah well, let’s get it done with!~ she decided. Having spent the last few hours listening to crew members complaints and assumptions about their new guests, she reluctantly admitted that at least this would be one way of working out some tension. Entering the holodeck she looked around at the setting. Shrugging, she dropped a small bag by the wall that appeared to cover the door behind her and dropped her jacket on it, “Captain?” she called out as she kicked of her shoes as well, leaving her in a T-shirt and loose gym trousers.

"I'm here, Doctor," Cassius said, stepping out onto the dojo floor. She looked tense. That needed to change. "I noticed your announcement the other day. How did the phaser recertification go?"

“It went,” she replied simply, “Fifty nine percent… suffice to say the Commander had some typically Klingon comments to make about the result, but I passed. Now all I need do is get this done, Sir, and I can forget about them for another year.”

"Fifty-nine percent is nothing to scoff at, especially not from somebody who dislikes phasers as much as you do," he said, walking over to stand with her. He ignored her statement about 'typically Klingon comments'. Thus far, he hadn't had a reason to think that Lieutenant Burton held any racist tendencies, and he didn't particularly want to go down that path with her. It was likely a slip of the tongue brought about by the stress of the dreaded recertification. "Commander Kol is a hard man, by our standards. I brought him here because he expects everyone to excel beyond Starfleet 'norms', and believes they will. We should all do that more often."

“Sir, as someone who has qualified as a Counselor in three fields of study and a General Medical Practitioner, and who currently is the CMO of a Galaxy-Class starship, all by the time she’s twenty six, I’d say I’m working on excelling, but in my chosen fields,” she retorted as she started to stretch a little.

"No contest, Doctor. Your record speaks for itself," Cass replied, beginning his own stretches. "Take your time and stretch out completely while I explain what we're going to be doing here today. Starfleet's basic requirements for hand to hand certification don't require any offensive training, though the majority of Starfleet personnel go on to take additional classes in offensive forms. For you, I've prepared a refresher course in holds and throws, none of which require you to strike your opponent."

Kimberly nodded her thanks as she moved from simple stretches to a full warm up routine. “I appreciate that, Sir. I must admit though, I would much rather prefer to spend my time healing than fighting. Wherever there’s a brawl or worse, there’re always injured...” she said, shaking her head as she leaned on a wall to stretch her legs better. “It always seems so pointless,” Kimberly finished quietly.

"Survival is hardly pointless," Cassius countered as they both finished their stretches. Shaking the last bits of tension from his frame, he moved to stand in front of one of the holographic opponents, who had been patiently waiting. "If you don't survive the fight, we'll be hard pressed to find someone with your skills to treat the injured. Not everyone recognizes the rules of engagement, and some less scrupulous individuals actively target doctors and other noncombatants."

Just nodding again, Kimberly finished her own warm up and moved to stand before the other hologram. “Where do you want to begin, then?” she asked, shifting back to the topic at hand. Even after the stretches she still appeared tense. Her shoulders and back were rigid, as though held in place by a transparent aluminum frame.

"Well, first you need to relax. I'm sure you know this, but if you tense up when you take a hit, you'll actually be hurt worse," Cass said, before turning his attention to the nondescript man standing opposite him. "What we're going to do is a series of blocks, holds and throws, to prevent you from being injured in a hand to hand situation. I'll demonstrate and you'll repeat. When you're confident that you can do each move, we'll move on to the next. At then end, we'll run through them all one more time, and I'll sign you off."

“Understood, Sir,” Kimberly replied simply, just wanting to be out of here. Trying to relax, she shook her shoulders and arms for a moment, and took a step back to watch. ~Goddess, I *hate* this!~ she thought privately.

Cassius suppressed a sigh. It didn't take a telepath to feel the tension in the air. Even his limited empathy was swamped by it. She was going to be stubborn. "Okay, do you remember anything about combat posture?"

Thinking back to her Academy classes she thought for a second and then nodded. Looking at her holographic opponent again, she turned so one leg was before the other, knees bent slightly. Raising her arms, she let her forearms cover her torso and loosely clenched her fists. “Just the basics,” she admitted, “I’ve never had the need to do this since the Academy.”

"That's pretty close," Cassius said, gently adjusting her stance. As soon as she was ready, he assumed an identical, much more practiced stance opposite of her. "The first move is the most basic of blocks. Almost everything else we'll be doing here will build from this motion. Watch how I respond as he swings at me."

Facing his holographic opponent, he readied himself. "Computer, activate opponent one." The nondescript man assumed a combat posture, and without any further delay stepped forward to swing a right hook at the captain.

Cassius blocked the attack with his forearm, absorbing the blow and using it to maneuver. The opponent stepped back and assumed a waiting position again.

Nodding, Kimberly bit her lip and turned to face her own opponent with a resigned sigh, “Computer, activate opponent two,” she instructed. Tensing up as the second hologram moved forward, Kimberly repeated Cassius’ block, somewhat less elegantly.

“Next?” she asked, dreading the next hour or so.

****

Holodeck 6, Deck 11, USS Galaxy

Cassius attacked her again, faster than before. Despite her protestations, she was getting better at blocking his attacks and immobilizing him. He wasn't using everything he knew against her, but that was expected in a training session for basic proficiency. Even so, she was doing pretty well, as he experienced when she flipped him over her shoulder and onto the dojo mat.

"Good," he coughed. He had just been shown the reason why all hand to hand instructors emphasized inner focus in training. "I think you're probably ready to take the test. It's not enough to slow down a combat vet, but the only thing that will do that is becoming a veteran yourself. As for unruly crewmembers and basic security personnel, this will keep you safe." "Or better yet, find some six foot tall wild eyed maniac to hide behind and let him do the fighting," she replied under her breath, stepping back from the prostrate Captain. She knew he was going really easy on her. As long as she passed, she didn't really care. "Aye, Sir," she replied, louder, "How long'll the test itself take?"

[Bridge to Captain Henderson, you have a conference call from the Palais de la Concorde. It's Federation Security Advisor Abrik, Sir,] the voice of Operations Chief Tarin Iniara interrupted before he could reply.

"Henderson here. I'm on my way up," he replied, after tapping his communicator. Turning back to Burton, he shrugged. "The test itself isn't very long. You should be in and out in about fifteen minutes. Security personnel on duty should be able to administer it whenever you're ready. Deadline is this weekend. My apologies for having to leave so quickly. I'd like to sit down with you at some point and talk to you about things you actually enjoy talking about. But I shouldn't keep Admiral Abrik waiting. He probably wants to talk about the Jem'Hadar situation... Speaking of which, have things calmed down at all in Sickbay?"

"For the most part, I'm going to assign Medbay 4 for the Jem'Hadar. There's some definite tension between them and the crew while they're in the main sickbay, so for now I thought I'd just keep them apart. Simple, but for the short term effective," Kimberly assured him, "And I'd like to sit down and chat at some point as well, Sir. Thank you, but I guess I should let you go. I'll send you a report on the Jem'Hadar later, right after I get this done with."

Cassius made a sour face. "I'd rather not have to segregate them, especially when they've just lost their world. But it does make the most sense. Run it by Goran'Agar before you do it. I want him to be in the loop on everything we do relating to his people."

He gathered up his things before heading to the door. As he was about to leave, he turned over his shoulder. "Talk to my Yeoman. She'll find a good time for us to sit down and talk. Take care, Doctor. And remember, you can't pick who attacks you, only how you respond to their attack."

He gathered up his things before heading to the door. As he was about to leave, he turned over his shoulder. "Talk to my Yeoman. She'll find a good time for us to sit down and talk. Take care, Doctor. And remember, you can't pick who attacks you, only how you respond to their attack." Biting her lip again, Kimberly decided not to answer that last bit for now. "I'd rather not segregate the Jem'Hadar either, Sir, but they're a proud group. Na'Toha and I came up with the idea after one crewman made a somewhat disparaging remark about how tough the Jem'Hadar were supposed to be. They don't like to appear weak," she continued, "Hence why I figured a little privacy for their medical needs were seen to would be nice."

"But I'll check in with Goran'Agar," she assured him.

"See that you do," Cassius replied, "Take care, Doctor."

"Thank you again, Sir," she added as he walked out the door.

"Catalyst" - Part 2

Captain Cassius Henderson, Commanding Officer

Admiral (ret.) Jas Abrik, Federation Security Advisor

with... Lieutenant Tarin Iniara, Chief Operations Manager

****

Captain's Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Galaxy

Cassius arrived in his ready room a few minutes later, pulling on the top half of his uniform as he entered the room. He tossed his pants over a chair in the corner, out of sight from the desk monitor. They'd have to wait for later, since he was short on time and would only be visible from the waist up. He settled himself in the chair behind Captain M'Kantu's desk and pressed the button to complete the connection between the ready room and Admiral Abrik's office at the Palais de la Concorde.

Abrik was a middle-aged Trill just beginning old age, who'd retired from service in the 'Fleet just after the end of the Dominion War, to enter the political realm. As was the right of all retired officers (particularly Admirals), he was often addressed by his rank. "Captain Henderson." he said in greeting.

"Admiral Abrik," Cassius nodded to the retired officer. He'd met Abrik a few times previously, and spoken to him just before the Dithparu incident had spiraled out of control. It was when the murder of the Rihannsu ambassador, Ramir Omar, had taken place. Each time they'd talked, he struck Cassius as a well spoken officer, for a member of the Hawk faction. "I wasn't expecting to speak to you again so soon. What's the occasion?"

[There's been a change in plans, Captain. The Romulan government has formally requested the return of the body of Ambassador Omar for a state funeral. While they've certainly taken their damn sweet time making arrangements, this came directly from Ambassador Kavalak to the President. You'll be getting formal orders from the Admiralty soon enough, but you need to divert your course from Deep Space Five and proceed do Romulus with all due haste. Proconsul Omar's rattling his sabre, and the President wants to prevent a conflict,] the Security Advisor replied, launching directly into the reason for his call. Abrik wasn't much for beating around the bush.

[I don't have to tell you, Captain, to be on your guard while you're in Romulan space. The Hitan Government's been unstable for years now, and we don't see it getting better without something major happening. Unfortunately, we can't get any escorts out to meet you on the timetable the Romulans have set for the funeral.]

"That brings up a great many questions," Cassius said, typing out a message to Lieutenant Terrik to bring them to a full stop. He sent it on its way before returning his full attention to the Federation Security Advisor. "When's the funeral scheduled to occur?"

[You have twelve days,] Abrik responded instantly.

Cassius nodded. Enough time for them to be there five days before the funeral. "Unless I'm mistaken, we'll be the first starship to visit ch'Rihan since the USS Titan in 2379. That responsibility carries a great deal of weight. Will anything be expected of my crew while we're there?"

[Formally, yes,] Abrik replied, not elaborating further on that point. [You and Legate Curran, at the least, will be required to represent the Federation at the funeral, with our formal representative, Ambassador Takeda. The Ambassador will be able to brief you more once you arive - she's in charge, with Ambassador Spock offworld. Your crew will have the opportunity to visit the planet itself, something that was a very surprising concession, and I can't say it sits well with me. The Romulans are just a little to eager to get their people on our soil.]

The Trill paused a moment, taking a sip of the water on his own desk. [The Romulan Senate will also be conducting an inquiry into Omar's death, and personnel from the Galaxy will be required to testify at those hearings. Don't let them push you around, Captain - we're offering testimony strictly as a favor to the RSE.] Abrik's expression quite clearly indicated just what his idea of a "favor" to the Romulan Star Empire truly would be.

"Of course, Admiral," Cassius agreed, as a formality. Reading between the lines of what Abrik was saying exposed a point on which the difference in their philosophies was well defined. Many members of the 'Hawk' faction, Abrik included, were of the opinion that the Federation should not have remained allied with the Klingons or the RSE at the end of the Dominion War. Henderson considered the alliance one of the greatest successes in recent history, for all the flaws of its members. "I'll brief my officers before we arrive. Most of it should be a formality, once we've presented them with our investigation report."

[Don't expect the Romulans to give too much credence to your reports, Captain,] Abrik warned sternly. [They're insisting on their own investigation - and to be honest, they're not quite buying this story about your Chief Engineer, either.]

"If I didn't have the bruises to prove it, I'd be skeptical myself," Cass agreed, remembering distinctly the blow that had nearly sent him to his death. "We're still not sure why she did it, but she claimed responsibility for his death before she got away from me on Tru'Haran. Lieutenant Kreighoff went back to the scene and found her ring under the bed in which Ambassador Omar was killed. None of it entirely adds up. Like why she chose Tru'Haran to defect the Hydrans. She'd had opportunities before that... And why she never realized that she'd lost the ring. It's almost like she wanted to be exposed before leaving."

[There're definitely some questions that need answering. Admiral Murdock and Admiral Batanides have assured me that they've got people combing through the last several years of her service, to determine when she 'turned'. They consider it unlikely that this was a spur of the moment development.]

"Agreed. My suspicion is that it was probably during her trip to ch'Rihan with the Ambassador, actually," he suggested, thinking back to when he had met O'Shea. "It was a long time out of contact, and Ki Baratan isn't exactly known for being the safest place for a Starfleet Officer. If I wanted to catch one of us far from any support, a foreign capital isn't the last place I'd consider."

Abrik inclined his head in acknowledgment. [There's also the matter of the Jem'Hadar you have aboard, Captain.]

"Yes, there is that matter," Henderson agreed, pursing his lips in thought. On that subject, his options weren't very good. No, that was a gross understatement. His option was terrible. Upon return to Deep Space 5, the refugees would be in the custody of the local commander until she was given orders from command. Considering the importance of the group, those orders would come quickly, but the diplomatic damage potential of Olivia Proctor was not to be underestimated. "Standing regulations require me to deliver them to the local commanding officer when next we make port. Will I be required to take the Galaxy to Deep Space 5 before ch'Rihan?"

He deliberately left out that his ship was several months late for a routine Barium sweep.

[Preferably, yes,] Abrik replied thoughtfully. [Just having them aboard is a Security risk to your crew, not to mention whether or not any of them have any ties to the Dominion. Unfortunately, you don't have the time.]

"Considering the circumstances of their arriving onboard, I don't believe they're a threat. We do, however, have them under appropriate supervision," Cass pointed out. "Respectfully, Admiral, I think that a problem would be more likely..."

[Captain, this is Lieutenant Tarin. I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have Admiral Proctor on the comm. She insists on being allowed to speak to you, sir. What should I tell her?]

"I'm sorry, Admiral, this will only take a moment," Cassius told the Federation Security Advisor, before replying to Lieutenant Tarin's question. "Lieutenant, tell Admiral Proctor that I'm in an important conference call, and that I'll speak to her immediately upon its conclusion.

[Aye, sir...] Iniara's voice replied, followed by a muffled conversation, probably taking place out on the bridge not ten feet away. [Sir, Admiral Proctor would like you to know that unless it's Admiral Murdock or President Bacco, you're to speak to her now.]

Cassius's brow furrowed in irritation. Abrik and Proctor were nominally allies, both Hawks. If he could play one off the other, it might improve his options with the Jem'Hadar. Admiral Abrik was listening in. "Tell her that unless she considers Federation Security Advisor Abrik to be beneath her, then I'll be calling her back shortly."

[Aye,] the Operations Manager said, followed by another brief pause. [Sir, she expects your call within the hour. Tarin out.]

Cassius turned back to Admiral Abrik. "My apologies, Admiral, but you've got the keep your dog on a shorter leash," he said, irately. There was something... no, everything about that woman made him see red.

[Excuse me, Captain?] Abrik said, sharply. Henderson's choice of words had caught him off guard. His eyes had narrowed at Olivia's interruption. He would, of course, be speaking with her on the matter later.

"I'm sorry, sir. That was out of line. But this interruption only makes the argument I was about to make stronger. The Jem'Hadar aren't a threat or an ally, but they do have the potential to be either. The knowledge we could gain from Jem'Hadar allies is priceless. Admiral Proctor has been a thorn in the side of Federation diplomatic efforts with the Hydrans since her arrival in Hydran Sector."

[Tact would not be one of her strong suits, no,] the Security Advisor reluctantly admitted, deciding to let the new captain's outburst slide. Truthfully, he frequently found himself thinking similar thoughts about Olivia Proctor more often than not. [But we're not all as secure as you, Captain, that these Jem'Hadar aren't still connected to the Dominion. Unfortunately, we can no more have a ship meet you before you get to Romulan space than we can provide escort for your trip, and we certainly wont be sending a transport ship in there after you. You're going to have to make do with them aboard for the time being,] the old Trill finished.

[And Captain, I want you to keep a very, very close eye on them.]

"Absolutely, Admiral. The Dominion War taught us all what the Jem'Hadar are capable of," Cassius agreed readily. Security was escorting them, with Operations monitoring their movements, prepared to beam them into brig cells at the first sign of trouble. His previous interactions with Goran'Agar compelled him to trust the Jem'Hadar First Adminstrator, but the memory of his experiences as veteran of the Dominion War made him wary all the same. "Was there anything else?"

[Nothing else, Captain,] the retired Admiral replied, [Just get your ass to Romulus - and be careful. Palais out.]

"Henderson clear," he said, and closed the channel. Taking a deep breath, he entered the instructions to place a call to Admiral Proctor's temporary residence. With Captain M'Kantu's competency hearing about to get under way, she was on Earth to present her case. The thought of the hearing gave him pause, and his finger hovered over the key that would connect him to Proctor.

Though he held a great deal of respect for Captain M'Kantu, and knew him to be faultless, Cassius did not spare many thoughts on the potential outcomes of the hearing. In sending his recorded deposition to the panel that would be deciding the result of the hearing, he had done all that he could. He would accept the results when they came, no matter what they were. It would be unfortunate if M'Kantu were removed from command, but Cassius knew that there was a part of him that very much want to keep the Galaxy for himself.

He brushed the thought aside. Nothing he could do would affect the outcome. In the end, he preferred it that way, without any of the burden on himself. With the hearing light years away, he was free to concentrate on more important things, like a trip to the capital of the Rihannsu Star Empire.

Romulus. ch'Rihan. The homeworld of the Rihannsu was a planet that few Federation citizens had ever, and likely would ever, set foot on. The last crew to visit ch'Rihan had been the USS Titan under Captain Riker. Many things had changed since then, including a noted stabilization of the Rihannsu Star Empire's government. But then, recent events called that into question.

Like all things Rihannsu, there were few constants.

"Henderson to the Bridge," he said, and waited a second for the computer to connect him. "Set course for ch'Rihan, and engage at Warp 5. Lieutenant Tarin, make a general announcement to the crew that we've been redirected to the Rihannsu homeworld to return the body of Ambassador Omar for state funeral."

[Aye, sir,] Iniara's voice wavered in surprise at the announcement. [I'm on it.]

"Very good, Lieutenant. Henderson clear."

Looking balefully at the key he knew he had to press, Cassius sighed. There was nothing to be done for it. He hit the key, linking his office to Admiral Olivia Proctor, bane of the Hydran Sector.

OOC: Takes place directly after their rescue from the Jem'hadar planet. It's a little long, so do be patient ;p

"Driftings of Uncertainty"

By: Ayden O'Connor
Ember Lansky

==--==

Throughout his career Ayden had regretted the fact that he hadn't experienced combat, a lasting impulse that led him to sever ties with his family just so he could have the opportunity. Ever since this away mission however, part of him couldn't help but to hope that he wouldn't have to face similar circumstances ever again. He hadn't fired a shot throughout their evasion of the Jem'Hadar insurgency, and yet came so close to death that he was finally beginning to realize his own mortality.

First he had fallen several hundred meters from the sky, still alive because of reasons he couldn't even begin to comprehend or explain. Then he had plunged unconsciously into the river, rescued only by the woman who had twisted his heart into an incomprehensible spur of emotions. If he could ever credit his survival towards anything however, surely it would be her.

Pulling his mustard collar tunic from his filthy body, he couldn't wait to jump into a sonic shower. Carefully glancing at the woman as she mimicked his actions, he asked himself a question. It was the first time he had done so, because up until this moment, the thought of having romantic attachments to Ember was hopeless. But here she was, right now. He couldn't understand anything in this world, certainly not what was wandering on in her own little head.

The hint of desire touched his lips as he gazed with a strange hunger at her bare back while she slowly pulled her pants off, revealing to him much of what he had witnessed the night before. She was remarkably beautiful, yet always so shrouded as to her intent with him. Yes, he wanted to sleep with her, but at the same time there was something more attaching in his mind. The thought of her being the first thing he sees in the morning, and the last thing he sees at night, for eternity, was ever so luring.

He was so sure of it, so why was the road ahead so clouded by doubt.

"Well..." he started, trying to get his mind of his internal dwellings. The last thing he wanted her to see was a guy wrestling with his doubts. It was the last thing he would want her to see as well. "I'm certainly hungry, how about you?"

There were two types of hunger rolling inside of him, one was for edible food compared to combat rations, the other was her. Her curves burned their image into his mind, and he soon found himself so unsure if he should remove his pants knowing that she would certainly realize his mood. Of course, that was probably what she wanted too... but then again, his and Ember's sexual relations have certainly been in an on/off base.

Dropping the last stitch of her clothing on the floor, Ember turned around, body bared and covered with the grime of dried perspiration. With a rakish smile on her lips, she didn't seem at all bothered or conscious of her nudity. She rested a hand on her hip and cocked her head. That innuendo Ayden made could be met with so racy comebacks which hung at the tip of her tongue, but as she looked across at him, the words suddenly melted away. As forthright as she was, she was choked. The realization that she didn't often 'sleep' with a man the previous night, and still have him hanging around the morning after, penetrated.

Along with that came uncomfortable, lingering self-doubts, and the irrational, almost-desperate desire to put some distance between them. Even with the emergence of these thoughts, her smile didn't falter. But her would-have-been openness did. "You should definitely be seeing a doctor first, before doing anything about the hunger," She chided teasingly.

Ayden chuckled lightly, making his careful prediction from which he was sure Ember would once again surprise him. Part of him felt incredibly frustrated in that he *didn't* know how she would behave around him, as if this thing the two of them had was meant to be wrestled with until they were both worn out and exhausted of each other.

Of course, he started to wonder if he was doing something wrong... boring her perhaps. Then again, she was usually the one to initiate anything between them, just as she had in the holodeck, the turbolift, and in the caves. Up until now Ayden had usually tried to lay back and approach their on/off relationship slowly, expressing to her as much as he could that he wasn't looking for a hot and heavy relationship that would burn out in a few months time. He was looking for something more, and he thought it important she realized that.

But maybe it was time for him to show her that he was willing to be more expressive towards her. As her back was turned away, he wandered up to her and caught her hands in his own, crossing them over her her chest as he held her in a tight embrace. "Hey..." he ushered to her ear, paying careful notice to how her reaction was.

Her back stiffened immediately. Caught by surprise, her first instinct was to break away and elbow him hard in the ribs. It was the tenderness in his action and his voice that scared her, more so than the physical contact. It was as if he was coming too close and was getting to touch a part of her deep underneath. Even though she wanted to act on her instincts, she was even more afraid of letting him know just how much he had affected her. She stayed still, forcibly frozen in place.

Ayden himself was startled by how tense she had become, throwing the sudden impulse as leftovers from their near death experience. He carried on, "Thank you... if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here to hold you right now." He finished, placing a soft kiss behind her ear.

Ember slowly relaxed a little, and was even able to lean into him just that little, willing the tension out of her taut nerves so she could keep up the act – so he wouldn't know. "I didn't do anything," She said instinctively, unable to help it if the first words that rushed out of her mouth were dismissive and distancing. "But if you want," She started again, mustering her usual playfulness, "I could keep those million favors you owe me on your tab, so you can begin to repay them one by one…" Gently, Ember pulled her hands out of his so she could turn around to face him, smiling coyly. "You'll have to do whatever I say."

Despite the fact that there was a stunning woman standing in the nude not a hairs length in front of him, Ayden's gentle gaze fell only into her eyes. His arms hadn't left her, only transitioned into a cup along the small of her back while his finger tips trailed across her tender flesh. The heat of her body radiated against his own, warming every element of his mind, body, and soul. It struck him as amazing in that she was always so beautiful, so playful.

But it was through her eyes that he found his reservation. The same witty nature she carried herself by so well, sometimes seemed somewhat off whenever they shared warm moments like this. He couldn't put his finger on it, and at first he shrugged it off. But after seeing it so many times over the last few days... he feared that he was reading her cloaked reluctance. Their encounter in the turbolift where what should have been the climax of their joint passion turned into a sudden disappointment, and then again during their stay in the abandoned facility where she once again retreated from the passion they seemed ever so tempted to share. It reminded him of a saying he heard once at the academy: "Once is a coincidence, twice is a trend."

Slowly, his blind feelings for her began to find sight, and it was time for him to test this sounding hesitation he found in her so often. His feelings poured forth in the form of a gentle embrace. He raised his arm and pulled her hair from her face, and kissed her.

Ember was relieved. The kiss was something she could understand, something she was familiar with. Her hands moved to his back as she pressed against him, returning his kiss, her fervor masking any uncertainties she might have. The heat that began in her stomach slowly grew and descended in a downward spiral, spreading through her body like fire, down to her toes. But she couldn't shut off the mental voice in her head, or stop the cold fear from seizing hold of her heart.

"You're just trying to distract me, aren't you," She whispered breathily on his lips when she broke the kiss. Seductive as it was, the next thing he knew, she was disengaging from his embrace. "I'm so dirty, I need a shower," She said, already walking towards the bathroom.

~Damn this woman!~ He roared in his head as his attempt to figure her out failed yet again. She confused him by returning the kiss, and planting a seductive remark at the tip of his mod. "I'll join you..." he replied, following her slowly enough as to not seem too excited about the concept. Although the flash vision of her pinned between the wall and him was incredibly vivid and appealing. Would she let them go that far?

"And what if, to start off with, I say you can join but no touching?" She winked back at him.

"I'd say it's about time for you to stop playing hard to get." Ayden began with a smirk, coming closer towards her. It might have been a little unfair that she was completely nude and he at least had a set of trousers still on, but in a way it reminded him of how his relationship with her had been. There was always something in the way. "Or is there something I'm not seeing?" He asked playfully, but with a hidden sincerity.

"What else is there to see that you haven't seen?" Ember asked with a throaty laugh, spreading her arms and holding them wide. She stood full frontal before him, hiding nothing, at least nothing that could be seen with the eye. It was ironic how she could be entirely naked, yet remain clothed under so many layers at the same time. "You just need to be patient…" She said, tilting her head to the side, a few strands of hair falling carelessly over her forehead. "Unless all you want from me, is this?" She gestured to her body with a hand, teasing him. Ayden gave her a stern look, "is that what you're worried about?" He replied, keeping his eyes focused upon hers. For once he started to wonder if that was the key to her reluctance, concern that he was attracted to her only by her physical beauty. Of course, the emotional part of Ember Lansky wasn't a perfect beauty, but it was in those imperfections of hers that he found her so desirable.

But why would she come on so strongly only to withdraw the second he returned her passion? Something in the equation didn't make sense, they had known each other for a long time prior to actually meeting, and he thought that he had made it extremely clear that his intentions with her were more sincere than just a roll in the hay. If she couldn't see that by now, he wasn't sure what else to do.

"Do I look worried to you?" Ember seemed amused, but even though her answers were always flippant, it seemed striking that she never truly answered any of his serious questions with an answer. She was always evading, always shirking from the truth, even if only by a margin. She could be so forthright in so many things that she believed in, yet be a complete enigma when it came to matters of the heart.

"Well," She started to turn, but tossed her head behind her to look at him "If you don't accept the condition I laid out, I think I'm going to be showering alone," She gave him a playful wink.

Ayden discovered a paradox of sorts, considering the fact that if he were to follow her into the shower it would only lead to another whiplash effect. It seemed painfully obvious that she had something to reconsile something within herself, especially in regards to their relationship. But if he were to refuse, it would only likely result in the same effect.

So either way, he had to change something. Following the resist, cave, return, blindeside pattern would only lead to a neverending reptative pattern. He had to alter the operational pattern if even to end this cycle. But it would start with the first step.

"Actually, why don't you go on ahead..." he began without a hint of internal reservation or agenda. "The two of us are so filthy anyways it would take twice as long to get it off if we share the emitter. I'll just read up on the news and wait for you to be finished before I jump in." He planted his half-dressed self onto the sofa and picked up a PADD... activating it while he kept his eyes on Ember so that she didn't experience too severe of a whiplash by his sudden approach.

He didn't want to push her away, but he did want to get under her shields. If resisting her enticements were the only way, then so be it.

For once, the charade she forced herself to keep up faltered briefly. Her smile dropped, surprised at how cool he was acting, as though all of a sudden, she didn't matter anymore. She blinked, trying to recover from this abrupt change in his behaviour. Perhaps she had been over-imagining his feelings for her. Even if that should made her feel relieved, somehow, strangely and inexplicably, it stung her slightly.

"Sure, if you wish," She replied blithely, pretending it didn't affect her as she shrugged it off and walked into the shower.

Ayden watched her leave, immediately noting her own change in demeanor. He heaved an internal sigh, feeling an conflict arise between what he wanted and what he knew had to be done. Ember meant the world to him, and yet this sudden realization of how he couldn't allow himself to come any closer to her with such unexplainable doubt on her own end remained all too vivid in his mind.

Maybe he should have at least said something more, or done something to soften the impact that seemed to have overcome her in a conflict of needs and desires. But then again, no three simple words could ever alter a way of thinking for Ember Lansky. Reluctantly, Ayden returned his attention to his PADD, thumbing through the console.

"Evading Mischief"

By: Ensign Aren Furai, Flight Control Officer
Ensign Zev Raynor, "Intelligence" Officer

==--==

It probably wasn't the best idea to wander into Ten-Forward after running deck thirteen, but Aren wasn't too comfortable about returning to her quarters just yet. Afterall, it was in such times of seclusions where her reoccuring nightmares usually... well... occured.

So with little more than her standard physical training attire and a towel, she moved to occupy a free booth as soon as she ordered a glass of water. Give herself a quarter of an hour to relax and she'd certainly be in the mood for a salad.

She savored the icy cold taste of her water, afterwards using the towel to dry the sweat from her face. It was a good workout, although she hadn't been able to reach her potential since the Cromwell incident. Even still, her lungs tended to burn after such a physical exertion, having suffered expl! osive decompression only a few months before she was reassigned to the Galaxy.

Leaning back against the booth, she heaved a soft sigh while allowing her body to relax. She noticed that several male members of the crew were taking careful glances in her direction, which made her a bit embaressed. Go figure there was nothing better for anybody to look at than the sweat-soaked officer. And of course, she wasn't smart or experienced enough to take advantage of the situation.

Meanwhile...

"GANGWAY! MAN ON THE RUN COMING THROUGH!!!" Raynor yelled, as he 'ran' through the corridors, though truthfully he wasn't even going at halfspeed yet. His arms flailed in every which direction, his torso was leaning backward rather than forward. Somehow... he wasn't quite sure how... he had managed to become the target of a manhunt by short terrorists (children) ... they were using hydro-powered projectile based weaponry (waterguns). He looked ! back and saw that a gaggle of them were still hot on his heels. He had already spent 20 minutes with these kids constantly on the move, he was surprised that the terrorists had that much stamina. He decided it was time to kick it up a notch and put on a little extra speed, as he made his way to ten forward. He got some distance before he made it to the doors, and burst sitting at a randomly chosen booth. Ten seconds later the kids burst in, and ran past to the other door, assuming that he had gone through it. "Hi there, and thank you for not saying anything," Raynor said, just noticing the woman across from him.

Aren, in the meantime... was pressed as far against her booth seat; away from him, as Hiigaranly possible. She wasn't tense by any meaning of the word, but having someone suddenly dive into her booth left her with a startling sense of surprise. After a few seconds of her staring at him and visa versa, she finally recovered her tongu! e from whatever feline just took it. "Um..."

She had to take that back, she was still as dumbfounded for words as she was less than thirty-seconds ago. The guy was half soaked in water, and she was willing to be that she looked equally ruffled.

~And they wonder why I haven't had a boyfriend yet, it's because I keep finding... odd... people, or rather they keep finding me~ She thought as she slowly eased her grip on the table and returned to original posture. "Who... are you?"

"Ensign Zev Raynor, 'Intelligence'" Raynor held out his hand.

At first Aren was too uncertain about this guy to stick her hand out and return his jesture, but more than anything she was too nice enough not to. Reluctantly, she allowed her hand to reach out and shake his, while she provided a modest smile. "Ensign Aren Furai, umm... flight operations." She replied, part of her enjoying the fact that out of this situation she could at least make a new! friend, while the next part was looking forward to the moment she could withdraw her hand unto its original place under the table. "Nice to meet you..." she added after a second of reluctance.

"Sorry... are you waiting for someone or something?" Raynor asked, sensing her reluctance. "You seem uncomfortable..."

Aren shook her head, stammering in the fact that she was making a much bigger deal of this than she needed to. She was sure that plenty of people on board the Galaxy just happened to break into some unsuspecting girl's booth... right? "Oh, no... I'm sorry. I guess I'm just trying to figure out what caused you to get chased by a bunch of children with waterguns."

Raynor pondered all the possible ways he could explain it before saying, "They asked me to. I said yes."

That caused Aren to start laughing, she quickly covered the base of her mouth while she giggled unmanageably. It had to have been the most simple explanatio! n in the world, and yet there was something she found simply amusing about his blunt honesty. She supposed that he reminded her of herself many years ago. "Ok, I get it now..."

"So how was the..." Raynor took the usual dangerous if done too obviously look towards mountain country, took in a a slow breath and tasted the air, and then hazarded a guess. "uh... Gym?"

Thankfully, Aren had been too distracted to notice his daring glance. Although it wasn't like she would have known how to react even if she had. "I didn't go to the gym, I just ran... but it was good." She replied, allowing a short pause to ensue. "I think it was nice that you would have taken the time to play with those kids... most people our age don't know how to have fun anymore."

Raynor blinked for a second... he was being complimented by a female... did the universe just break or did his mask of highly annoying moron simply fall off. Not that he didn't mind a compl! iment but it was just unexpected. He blinked again.

"Yea well..." he said scratching the back of his head. "Its no big deal its not like I had anything better to do anyways. I'm not one of the ones that has to worry about this ship deciding to almost blow up once or twice a mission," Raynor joked.

Aren laughed again, finding this human strange if not entertaining. So rarely had she ever had similar moments to find such amusement during her childhood years. It would have been nice if there had been people like this Raynor during the Great Exodus. "I've heard the Galaxy is pretty exciting... honestly I prefer the 'slow days' to anything too dangerous." She paused, a little reluctant all of the sudden. "I've already had my close calls... " It wasn't like her demenor had changed, she just wasn't sure if she should have added in that last part. The last thing she wanted was somebody asking her about an event that she had spent the last several months trying to forget.

"What-" Raynor stopped asking before the question came into full form. Somehow it seemed to be an uncomfortable thing, not that her outward appearance had changed at all, and as far as he could tell was still relatively cheerful, though you can never truly know the body lanuage of an alien speices when you first meet them. But his telepathic sense was telling him different, so - for once - he went on that. After a small pause he said, "Yea well, I think we all have had our close calls... it must be in the job description or something."

Aren chuckled lightly, looking up to him with a smile across her face.

"Join the Fleet, See the Galaxy... damnit I hate it when I miss the small text." She laughed again, sweeping her hand across the table in a jokingly fashion. "No I'm kidding... I really like this. I was actually invited to join Starfleet as part of a development program the Federation introduced after we colonized on our new homeworld. It was a rare opportunity, and since I didn't want to leave *my* home; the stars... I took it."

Raynor took this in for a split second. His home was too, the stars and his people homeworld was made unreachable, but his people could never trust the Federation. The Terran Coven had after all, been victims of the Starfleet's experiments with the Omega Particle. And they had made their Exodus of earth 200 years ago. Now they were nothing but mercenaries. An elite military force of honorable mercenaries, but mercenaries none the less. And what was he now? Siding with his people's destroyer. Not that Coven Terran's looked at it that way, but he couldn't help the feeling he was having about it, for that split second.

But then the split second of reflection passed, and he smiled, "That's a pretty good reason for joining the Fleet I guess. Better than mine. I joined because I was bo! red. I still am, come to think of it."

Aren tilted her head to the side, at first she started to speak only to recall the noises before they could form into words. After a try, she was finally able to make out something comprehensible. "That's irresponsible..." alright, so that wasn't what she wanted to say, at least not so bluntly but that's exactly what came out. "I mean... I hope you're kidding, or at least exaggerating just a little bit, aren't you?"

Raynor thought about it for a moment. "Well not at this very moment. After all I just had lovely little run from watergun wielding short maniacs, and am now having a fairly interesting conversation with an attractive female alien, well, attractive by human standards anyways, who also happens to catch attention of every perverted horomone driven male by the bar over there. But as overall mood for the majority of recent life, I would have to say pretty bored."

Aren could feel her! self blushing unexpectantly, yet a smile formed where she hadn't expected one to. What could have possessed him to say that though? She wondered if it was some sort of dramatic human way of altering the subject at hand, or rather a compliment in the face of it. She tried to think of something witty to say, not wanting to appear boring or as naive as she was. Then she remembered something her roommate at the academy once said, "And are you one of them?" She began, almost feeling it as an incomplete statement by itself, "a perverted hormone driven male?"

"Yes on the male... No on the other stuff..." Raynor stated with a blunt sort of tone. If his horomones were driving him, he wouldn't still be a virgin. Somehow, he forgotten one of those universal come ons was calling a woman attractive... This next part was going to get uncomfortable... "I wasn't trying to huh...well..." his face was going a little red.

Seeing him get as ! blushful as she was made her feel a little better, knowing that she wasn't the only one nervous here. "It's ok... I know what you are trying to say." She smiled, almost tempted to put her hand on his as if to engrave the intent behind her words. Aren resisted this of course, too nervous herself to even touch him. That's when she suddenly became aware of her composure, with her body sticky from her workout, she felt embaressed to be in Raynor's presence in her present state. "Well... I think I need to go get cleaned up."

Her words were less than calm, and she felt as though she had been taken over by a sudden excitement from which she couldn't define or explain. "Umm... see you."

Without further warning or reservations, Aren scurried out of ten forward as quickly as she could without going into a mad dash. The last thing she wanted was to run into somebody, humiliating herself even more.

Raynor blinked as she left... then c! losed his eyes and rubbed his temples... after a minute he opened his eyes... He found himself surrounded by little buggers he though he had foiled in their attempts to soak him. And with this situation, a word emerged from his lips.

"Crap."

"Weirdness Is Not Enough To Join This Party"

2nd Lt. Branwen London
Counselor

Commander Karyn Dallas, RN Chief Counselor/Second Officer
USS Galaxy - A

"Ma'am." Branwen asked. "Can I have a moment of your time, please." She asked her mentor. "It concerns a patient of yours that I just visited on a private matter. I am really worried about him." She stood just inside the chief's office waiting for permission to enter fully.

Karyn frowned. She didn't like the sound of this. "Sure, Bran," Karyn replied, coming atound her desk. "What's up?"

"It's about a patient of yours, ma'am, Lt Victor Krieghoff. I visited him as a favour to a patient of mine to ask him something. To be honest, ma'am, he is strange, and it might be an idea if you scheduled a session with him soon." She hoped Commander Dallas was not thinking she was trying to teach her how to do her job. But Branwen really thought the Commander should know about the Lieutenant.

Dallas grew puzzled. "If strangeness were an indication of a need for counseling, Bran, then I reason more than half the ship would be seeing us three times a week," she added in dry humor. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning. What did you need to ask Victor and what about your encounter has you concerned?"

Karyn, of couse, had her own issues with Victor and knew that he came across as odd, but that alone was not a reason to single him out.

"Well, I can't tell you why, ma'am. That is confidential between me and my patient." But she did tell Karyn some of what had happened during the talk she had with Victor. "I can't put me finger on it ma'am. He acted strange, and his eyes, so empty. Like there is nobody home. And yet I did sense a loneliness in him. And he seems unable to relate to other people."

Dallas listened to what the marine had to say, nodding occasionally. When Bran was finished, Karyn replied, "Your impressions aren't off-base, Bran, and Victor has had occasion to be in counseling from time to time. Unfortunately, it isn't our place to insist that someone socialize unless his or her lack of interpersonal skills are impairing his ability to function. Victor is very much a loner, but he has been able to do his job well and he has made a

few friends. If he wants more, he's given me no indication of that and I must respect his wishes for the time being."

"He says he doesn't want friends, and yet I can sense a loneliness in him, ma'am. Of course that is not a reason to counsel him, but his inability to work with others and even scaring them is I think. He said he could not work out with me because he might have to kill me one day. Is that normal? If you could just have a few sessions with him."

Karyn could understand London's frustrations. She had encountered them often herself when she was first getting to know Victor, but Bran hadn't given her a specific incident that suggested he was incapable of working with others. The ruth was, Krieghoff, for all his eccentricities, was a good officer who always got he job done. She wasn't sure she had forgiven him for attacking her while under the influence of Mudd's pheromones or for breaking into her quarters, but ver time, Dallas had begun to consider the possibility that he had no evil intentions and that her own biases were getting in the way of that.

"Bran, did you ask him what he meant by that?"

"He doesn't say much, and I didn't push. I'm trying to be his friend, not his shrink. So I thought it would be best to tell you and let you handle it." She felt a little frustrated, feeling she had done the wrong thing again.

Karyn frowned. "I'm not sure I have reason to intervene, Bran. Victor is an eccentric loner, I grant you, but he's an exceptional officer who hasn't harmed anyone. I believe your impressions, but without understanding why he said what he said, I'm not sure we have reason to be concerned. Culturally, from his worldview, he could very well mean something else. Victor is...cryptic all the time."

Branwen was silent for a long time. "If you don't think it is necessary to have occasional checkups with him. You have more experienced than I have, ma'am." She didn't understand it though.

Karyn shook her head. "It's not about experience, Bran, it's about having all the facts. Did you ask Victor what he meant by that comment? Victor has an overdeveloped sense of obligation to the crew. He lives and breathes his job. In his mind, everything he says and does concerns that responsibility. Are you saying you feel he might act on it?"

"No I did not, ma'am, because he doesn't share much information. All I wanted for you is to have a chat with him. You seem almost reluctant." She observed.

Karyn inwardly took a breath and responded patiently, "You're right, Bran, I am reluctant. I'm reluctant to schedule a chat with a man just because he said something cryptic to you, something you seem reluctant to get to the bottom of on your own. Most people you'll encounter are not going to share information, but it's your job to help them to do so willingly. I suggest you go back to Victor and ask what he meant. Talk to him about your concerns with regard to his socialization, and see what he says. I can't force him into counseling for something that isn't significantly impairing his work, and as I see it, he has been able to form relationships, on his terms."

"All right, ma'am. I will try that, if you think that is best. Anything else?"

Dallas shook her head. "Not unless you have something else you'd like to discuss? I do want you to know you can always come to me for advice or if you have questions, Bran. We may not always agree, but I am here to listen."

"No ma'am. And you are still my mentor." Bran said."How do you think I am doing? I have been here a while now." She asked.

Karyn smiled. "How do *you* think you're doing?"

"Considering my age and experience I think I'm going well. I have made some mistakes, but I don't think they were large ones. And I think I'm learning a great deal." Branwen said. "Only I sometimes don't think you see it the same way, ma'am."

Karyn was surprised. "I think you're learning a lot."

Now Branwen looked surprised. "Really?"

Karyn nodded. "Any time you attempt something new, you learn. You're taking risks, and even if they're wrong, I admire that you try. It's all any of us can do."

Branwen smiled. "Thank you ma'am. It's good to hear that from you. Sometimes it's not easy, but support keeps me going." She admitted.

"Hand Over" (slight backpost?)

Primary Characters:

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe, engineering officer
Lieutenant Ella Grey, engineering officer

2100 hours exactly, Dhani breezed into engineering making a point to keep her head down. Outwardly she would appear calm and collected and not bothered in the slightest about the fact the last time she was here she was drugged up to the eyeballs on some stupid GM Jem'Hadar food and had effectively painted the room with squashed fruit.

Inwardly however she was awaiting a bollocking from O'Shea and utterly petrified of flushing bright read in front of Pinkie or Drool boy, or any of the other officers from Delta shift. Since she had been in Sickbay for a few days on the worst come down she had ever had, in fact the only come down she had ever had, she hadn't heard anything about the other away teams.  She didn't have a clue what was going on outside her own little world.

So quite casually she walked up to Grey and awaited the normal dull shift hand over, where the other officer would tell her the urgent jobs that needed doing and blar blar blar.  Neither of them ever exchanged a word about their personal lives or gossip that was going around, in fact Dhani barely knew Grey, other than the fact that she had read her personal logs a year or two ago back when the ship had blown up. She had a pretty good idea about Grey's life and so didn't need to bother with the latest catch up.

Also she knew of Grey's xenophobia regarding Betazoids and any other telepaths, not that she liked it, but she accepted it and thus tried in any way possible to make these handovers short and sweet for the other engineer. Therefore, heart to hearts had always been out.

Ella looked up from her computer PADD. "Got a minute, Dhani?"

Dhani nodded and cringed when Ella made for the office.

She walked them over to O'Shea's office, looking at her chair for a moment before deciding to sit in one near Dhani.  It still felt strange to her and still like she hadn't earned it, after all she was only here because O'Shea wasn't.

"Not used to it." Ella said with a practiced modesty, familiar by now.

Dhani frowned and looked round, "Used to what Ma'am." she asked curiously.

"Being Chief." The engineer replied. "Or acting chief rather. You hadn't heard?"

Her frown deepened, "Heard about what?" she asked slowly confused and a little apprehensive.

"Oh, then you'd better sit down."

Dhani took another glance around the office and sat down slowly.

"Guess who got assigned as assistant chief?"

Dhani's head whipped towards Grey, "Who.?" she asked quickly.  She felt her stomach turn, Jackson was pissed as hell at her for the fruit incident, if he made it to Ass. Chief, even acting, he would have her cleaning the entire ship with a tooth brush!

Enjoying being theatrical, Ella made a finger gun, clicking sound, and pointed at Dhani.

Dhani turned around and looked behind.  There was no one there.  Slowly she turned back and looked at Grey, "You *have* to be kidding!" she said in shock.

Ella shook her head.

Dhani's eyes widened to the point that it actually hurt!

"Strange isn't it?" She said. Her voice sounded mechanical, of course, but she hoped that her expression was sympathetic.

Dhani nodded, "Of all the people that are here I wouldn't have ever thought that I'd ..." she trailed off a new thought in her head, "I know I have done it before but ..." again she frowned and stared, in a total state of shock, "Why me, I just ..." Did she really want to pull at that thread?  Dhani shook her head in an effort to clear her head and ask an actual question that she wanted and answer for.

"Dose this mean that we change shifts then, you take Alpha like O'Shea and I take Beta?"

"That's probably best." Ella said. It would be better for her at least, if she had one less telepath on her shift. It was easier to do the job when you didn't have to concentrate on not thinking about certain things. Then again, when they were busy, who had time to think about the past? "Will that work for you?"

Dhani shrugged, "Sure." She replied, still a little uncertain.

"So," Ella said, a little unsure of what to do now. "What's this I hear about you and poisoned food?"

She groaned in response and lowered her head.  Rolling her eyes she pondered how to answer the question.  "Basically, in a nut shell, the food that the Thi'Inni was growing on the farm was genetically modified.  It contained chemicals that calmed the aggressive tendencies of the Jem'Hardar, and after prolonged exposure to these drugs it would work itself into their genetic coding.  Unfortunately for the rest of us humanoid's it had more adverse effects." She smiled hoping that would sum up the new chief's curiosity.

And then it hit like a bolt of lightening, all be it slightly late.  Before Grey had a chance to comment on Dhani's latest activities in Engineering she blurted out, "What's going on with O'Shea?" she frowned, maybe this was some strange kind of practical joke to get her back after said incident.  "Why are you Chief, and .." she trailed off looking around the room for a secret camera; gee drugs make you paranoid!

Ella frowned and then told her about O'Shea. It had been a bit of a shock for her as well, not that they were great friends or anything, but she had never suspected anything of their former Chief and that offended her ability of judging people's character.

Not to mention that they were going to have to start going through every file, tool, and piece of equipment, everything, that the woman had ever touched. Spies were dangerous but spies with intimate knowledge of the ship were worse.

"And I guess they just thought I'd be good for the job." Ella finished with a small smile. "I guess they thought you were ready too. Seems somehow surreal huh?"

Dhani nodded vaguely in response, she wasn't sure how to respond to that. The news about O'Shea hit her like a starship in full warp.  Smiling as brightly as she could she stood up slowly, "Guess I'd better get to work, and you, well," she looked up at the time, "well you get to go!" she smiled again and made for the door.

Ella gave the woman's back an amused look before moving to place a check on her to-do list.

“Sunset“

J. Andrus Suder (apc)

******

Capitol City, Romulus

******

The capitol of Romulus was beautiful at sunset.

Andrus stared out at the vibrant colors of the setting sun and the way they added warmth to the otherwise militaristic structures of the Romulans.

He smiled slightly. Even for all their prattle about their emotionless cousins, it never failed to amuse him how stereotypically “Vulcan” the Romulan capitol city was: cold, linear, and otherwise without feeling.

Of course, Andy knew that this was not entirely true. The Romulan people were capable of great passion, of expression and dynamic lines. It was just that their passion, more often than not, went hand in hand with their politics and so it all became channeled into the art of deception, greed, and power struggles.

He hated it here. Millions of minds all suspicious, all striving towards their own fulfillment at any cost, all lying to each other and sometimes to themselves...

It was enough to make a guy just want to go find some uninhabited rock somewhere in space, just to be alone. And most Betazoids were uncomfortable being alone. In this he was no exception.

Despite his ever-growing distaste for Romulus, however, Andrus knew that he couldn't’t just walk away. He had gained a small measure of acceptance from the Romulans (never trust, of course; that concept went against Romulan dogma) and it would take too much effort for the next guy to rebuild Andy’s network, namely buying information and bribing the right people to look the other way. Besides, he only had this last shipment to get through and then it would be over, at least for his part of the operation.

He heard the mental voice of the Romulan even before the harsh voice commanded his attention.

“Junior aide Suder, your presence is requested by your ambassador.”

That was another thing he wouldn't’t miss about Romulus, Andy thought. Hearing the normal voice of the mind, no matter how paranoid, forced into that structured smugness pissed him off to no end.

“Thank you, Uhlan Lelok.” Andy said politely, resisting the urge to smirk at the Romulan officer having to play fetch yet again. He wondered what Lelok had done to deserve the grunt work or if this was just the standard treatment before becoming a sublieutenant.

The Betazoid ambassador probably wanted to discuss the shipment, Andy decided as he walked within Lelok’s peripheral vision. The ambassador hadn’t been particularly pleased when he had realized what his junior aide was up to but he hadn’t been unsympathetic either. Andy could only hope that the man wasn’t going to try to add on to the list that was already at an unprecedented high of four. Four was bold but he felt it was worth the risk. It also would make it impossible to remain in the capitol after it was all over which didn’t bother Andrus in the slightest.

They passed the two centurions that guarded the Ambassador’s door, for the ambassador’s protection it was said, and entered after ringing the buzzer. As always, Lelok sneered at the Betazoid decor that had introduced the novel idea of colors other than slate grey and Andrus felt himself relax marginally in the company of warm hues and spiral designs.

“Your walk was pleasant, Andrus?” Daeon Grax asked from his desk. The ambassador was only two years older than Andy but had a way of seeming paternal, even when doing something as simple as ordering his coffee. Despite being in his forties, Andrus had missed out on this paternal instinct and persona, somehow remaining frozen into a sort of seasoned rebellion.

“As always.” Andrus said with a smile.

{It would have been more pleasant on Madera though} Andy added telepathically.

“Naturally.” Grax said with a smile.

Uhlan Lelok’s sneer started to shift into a scowl. He hated telepaths and since the technology to be able to listen in on their thoughts wasn’t available, the Romulans had wasted their time with bugging the ambassador's rooms. Lelok gave a short dismissive nod and then stalked out the door, which seemed to hiss shut with his disapproval.

“A bit pissy today, isn’t he?” The ambassador noted as he got up from his desk and moved over to the couch. Andrus refrained from rolling his eyes. Grax didn’t fool him one bit; Andy wasn’t going to budge no matter how unofficial and at ease the ambassador tried to be.

“Probably realized he’s going to be a lowly Uhlan for the rest of his life.” Andrus replied.

{Whatever it is, the answer is no} He told the ambassador firmly through telepathy.

“How sad.” Grax said without sympathy for the Romulan officer. {I need you to add one more to the list}

Andy shrugged in a what-can-you-do kind of fashion. Mentally, he was a little less indifferent. {Not a chance, Daeon. I have four as it is. Four! Do you realize what I'll have to go through to add one more to the list? It can't be done. I don't have the time. I'm not...}

Grax mentally shushed him and then went and ordered himself some coffee. He communicated the information to Andy while he talked to the replicator while Andy waited his turn to remind him in a respectful, albeit irritated, tone that five was a hell of a lot harder to smuggle off the goddamn planet than four.

{Luck would seem to be on our side} Grax informed him with a small smile. {A Federation ship should be arriving within the next week or so with Omar’s body}

Andrus stopped mentally screaming. He had been waiting for Omar’s body to arrive, hoping that it would be a bit late as the captain of a Romulan freighter was still trying to haggle over the price of passage for one of Andy's cargo.

He considered. There were always possibilities with the Federation, if they didn’t screw things up, of course. {Which ship?}

The ambassador smiled and sat down with his drink. {The Galaxy}

It could work, Andy conceded grudgingly. He didn't like it but neither did he like leaving a defector on this planet when he could get them free. The funeral would be enough of a distraction to smuggle out the four Romulan defectors onto various ships but Andy didn't have transportation arranged for Grax's fifth and was unlikely to get any in time.

{We might be able to get them to offer asylum} Andrus told him. {But I would feel more comfortable with some kind of leverage should they refuse} He didn't add that the leverage would most likely be used for Andy's passage since this fifth would be a valuable prize for the Federation.

The ambassador nodded. {What do you need me to do?}

Andy went to the replicator to get something soothing to drink. This ordeal was going to give him a migraine of epic proportions before it was all over, he just knew it. That was, if he didn't end up dead.

{Get me everything you can on the Galaxy and its crew} Andrus told him.

"Prejudice"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineering
Saia (APC)

*****Quarters*****

Nara took another look around and the quarters were quite in shape. She normally didn't care, but Saia had asked if she could bring a new friend over one day and Nara had agreed. She was glad she'd found someone besides that obnoxious Samantha. Plus she hoped cleaning would help take something else off her mind.

Aside from changes in Engineering, the stuff with Oshea, the change in course, the fact the ship was overflowing with Jem'Hadar; the main thing on her mind was Saul had been gone about a month and she was starting to fret if he was even alive.

She resisted sending any messages because if he hadn't answered the first one, there was a reason or it wasn't reaching him. Last thing she wanted was to flood his inbox. As she attempted to straighten a painting for the hundredth time, the door swooshed and Nara turned to see Saia and...

A Jem'Hadar child.

She just stared a moment. He was taller than Saia and Nara felt a strong urge to pull Saia away from him, but before her mind could unclench for her to jump, Saia spoke cheerfully, "This is Re'Kor! I met him in the arboretum! He told me about some of the plants. I even drew him some we had on Trill. I couldn't tell him much, but I told him I would take him to meet Jerik, but then I realized you'd better meet him first!"

As Saia rambled, Nara was willing her mind to snap out of the prejudice long enough to nod and ask Saia, "Could I speak to you a moment?" She pointed to Re'Kor and then to a chair, "Sit."

"He's not a dog!" Saia hissed as they walked into the bedroom. She looked at Nara angrily as she paced, "You didn't like Sam and now you don't like Re'Kor!"

Nara looked at her, "I just don't want you under any bad influences."

"I'm smart enough to not fall for any of Sam's ideas. I only go along because it's fun." Seeing the look on Nara's face, she quickly changed the subject, "But Re'Kor is nice. He's really shy." She crossed her arms as she added, "And he's well aware of what half the people on the ship think of him and the others."

Nara sat on the bed and mumbled, "And there's a reason."

Saia sighed, "Didn't your mom dislike K'Erin?"

Nara shook her head, "Klingons and Jem'Hadar are not the same."

"Other than exagerated senses of honor and violent cultures." Saia retorted. "And I also recall learning that Klingons were once enemies of the Federation."

Nara shook her head. "Jem'Hadar are too cruel. Klingons aren't cruel."

"Only because they were taught that. All Re'Kor cares about is plants. Like I care about art. Maybe if he lives without the violent influence he could be a great botanist and not want to be a warrior."

"They always become warriors."

"Maybe because there's always a reason to fight. Always someone hating them."

Nara stood. "They MAKE people hate them!" She walked out the door, "Re'Kor, you have to go now."

The young Jem'Hadar looked at Saia crestfallen. Saia simply pursed her lips and walked toward the door. "Fine! We'll just be in the arboretum! Maybe Trills are too much for her to handle as well!"

She rushed out the door, followed reluctantly by an obviously timid young Jem'Hadar boy and Nara who hollored down the hall, "Saia! Get back here!"

Nara then paced a moment or two and hit her commbadge, "Saia, get back here now. Re'Kor can come back. But after this, you're grounded."

*****Later that night*****

"Why am I grounded! You were being mean!"

Nara frowned at her, "I was wrong. Doesn't mean I changed my mind, but I shouldn't force those same feelings on you. You're not grounded for being Re'Kor's friend. You're grounded for running out like that. I hadn't been the best role model, but darned if I'll let you run around and treat me like that."

"Like what?" Saia pouted.

"Like what I say doesn't matter. I've hardly been strict with you, but you never, EVER, run from me." Her face softened, "I'd much prefer you run TO me."

Saia rolled her eyes, "Again with the cheesiness!"

But they both smiled.

(Cue the happy ending music and audience claps)

"Alternating Conversations"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineering

Several NPCs

*****Ten Forward*****

The table consisted mostly of Engineers and a few other officers. It wasn't often they hung out outside Main Engineering, but seemed most of them had some venting to do about the Jem'Hadar, O'Shea and their new acting Chief.

"They seem harmless enough. Worst part for me is we've had to give them all check overs."

Mei gave her boyfriend a sympathetic pout and put a hand on his knee as she looked at the others, "He's been working so much lately. I was lucky to pull him away for this!"

Collin put his arms around her, secretly wishing they could had just been alone. He played along for now. Anything to convince her he was the right man for her.

His thoughts were interrupted by Mei's continued ramble, "But really, they do seem harmless. Hardly anything for us to worry about. We have a new command structure to deal with! I mean, Dhanishta had been gone for over..."

She was interrupted by Collin patting her hand and tensly laughing, "Enough honey, let the others talk." She just giggled and nodded, mumbling an apology.

Nara watched it for a moment, but she cringed as a famailar stench and voice approached, "Well! Looks like you forgot to send me an invitation!" George Kastanza grabbed a chair from a table right as a man was about to sit and straddled it sitting opposite of Mei. "If you ask me, those Jemmies are just waiting for a chance to take over."

Jolin rolled his eyes, "Oh please! If they wanted to, they would had already!"

George nodded at this, "Well, perhaps they're waiting till they get to DS5."

Nara sighed, "Then they have to wait a while longer. We're going to bury that Romulan Ambassador."

George looked surprised and asked Jolin, "She's yankin my chain."

Jolin shook his head and Nara glared at him, "I'll yank something right off if you don't shower before tomorrow's shift! Seriously, you make all of Engineering smell like a sweatshop!"

George grumbled, "Might as well be! That half-breed runnin things and robot-voice don't do much but issue orders. What happened to O'Shea anyway? She was a bitch, but at least she pulled her weight!"

Nara ignored George's ignorance of how Dhani and Ella worked, but shook her head laughing, "My god, George do you ever pull your head out of a girl's ass long enough to pay attention? She's a traitor. She ran off." Nara was aware her tongue and speech was loosening quite well. She had some steam to blow off and she'd been watching it since Saia's been around.

George looked quite sorrowful at the news. After a beat, he added, "Man. I really wanted to know what she was like."

Everyone at the table knew exactly what he meant and after a moment of gross glaring, someone broke the silence. "And what of those guys that left suddenly without reason? Didn't Saul leave about a month ago without any reason, Nara?" The question came from Mei.

Nara shrugged and smiled, "No comment."

"Well, you can tell her boyfriend was an Intelligence officer. He taught her how to keep quiet!" Jolin joked.

"Oh please. I've had to be covert before. I've suffered torture worse than George's stint and still didn't even give my name."

Laughter filled the table and George just frowned. Collin looked curiously at Nara, "Really? I hear tale that you were in a civil war?"

Nara no doubt realized Mei had told him that much and she nodded, "Indeed."

"So you're a tough ass."

She nodded, "You better not get on that side. You'll regret it. I messed with Baile and lived."

Some seemed impressed, real or sarcastic, and others hadn't heard of Baile or thought he was a rumor like Victor Krieghoff.

Collin laughed, but something sounded forced about it. He'd had enough of this. He wispered something in Mei's ear, causing her to blush and giggle as she stood. As she passed, Nara gently grabbed her arm and wispered, "Don't give it up too soon, remember?" Mei just looked at her a moment and left. Nara wasn't sure what would happen. She'd been a friend and reminded Mei and that's all she could do.

"So why do you suppose Dhani got the position and not Ella?"

Nara couldn't tell who asked the question as she looked disgustidly at George who had somehow quietly made his way over to a nearby table and somehow convinced a girl to talk to him. After a moment, they left together. She shuddered thinking how desperate that girl was. She snapped back and answered after many "Who knows" and other various comments, "We never know how Starfleet thinks. We go out to explore and in the process either kill many of our own or expose the Federation to dangerous enemies and even more dangerous allies."

"Choosing Sides, Part 3"

(Occurs two days after Part 2)

Principle Characters
Fleet Admiral Victor Murdock, C-in-C, Starfleet
Captain Daren M'Kantu

****

Starfleet Orbital Administration Center
Earth Orbit
Level 36
Observation Deck 3

It was good, Daren reflected, to get out of the quarters assigned to him – even if it meant putting up with his ever-present 'minder' tagging along. June had been back on Jupiter, attending to some of the work that had piled up while she'd been gone, for the last three days, which left him with nothing to do but wait for the hearing, talk to his counsel, and wonder who else was going to appear and try to sway him to one side or the other of the Hawk vs. Dove factional dispute – and how.

He'd prayed for guidance, prayed for the Federation and Starfleet, and prayed for his family, and now he was left wondering if that was enough. Should he have tried to play along with one side or the other and somehow mitigate their stance? Could he have? Was that what his oath demanded of him?

No. Of that he was certain. When he swore his oath, it hadn't meant that he should allow some hostile power to murder him, his ship, and his crew in the name of peace. It also hadn't given him the right to commit acts of war without formal declaration or due cause. The fact that those were, literally, the choices that had been given him was… terrifying.

Whatever would happen, he told himself as he watched the shuttles circle the station like a swarm of bees, he knew that refusing both of the offers he'd been made was the right choice. To do anything else… well, he'd told Admiral Abrik what that meant. For a moment he smiled, remembering the moment that June had said those words to him, the moment that he'd known without a doubt that he did love her and always would. Whatever happened now was in the hands of Allah – but the knowledge that June wouldn't be ashamed of him eased his mind at the thought of the worst possible result. As long as that was true, he could survive anything.

"A long way from the bridge of the Cheyenne, isn't it, lad?" came a familiar voice with a not-as-thick-as-it-used-to-be Scots accent from behind him, one that Daren hadn't heard in person for quite some time.

He whirled around to come face to face with Fleet Admiral Victor Murdock, currently the Commander-In-Chief of Starfleet itself - one of Daren's first Captains, back in his days as an Ensign. The Admiral had quite a story these days - everyone in Starfleet now knew the tail of how he'd faked his own death for nearly three years in order take down the rogue Section 31 organization. His triumphs there, and subsequent elevation to Starfleet's top posting, had made him a very central figure in the current political environment of the Federation. Daren knew, of course, that his former commander would regard that as something of a mixed blessing.

"Admiral Murdock!" Daren's smile was genuine and unreserved as he offered the older man his hand. "It's a pleasure to see you again, sir."

Victor returned the other man's handshake warmly, before moving next to him on the observation rail. "I understand yuir havin a bit of a tough time o' things at the moment," Victor said understatedly, leaning himself on the railing.

Daren nodded and sighed. "Allah has seen fit to test me a bit harder than I would like, sir – but those kinds of tests are the ones that make us who we are, and remind us of who we should strive to be." He met his old captain's eyes. "I'll pass this one, sir."

"I've no doubts about that." the Scotsman chuckled. "And how's June? Ye two married again yet?"

For an instant, Daren couldn't think of anything to say other than 'um' – and consider how appealing that thought was to him. Finally, he shook his head. "No, sir, we haven't remarried."

"Daren, I've met few couples as well suited to each other as ye two. Yuir perfect for each other, and ye should remember that. Ye never know when ye won't get the chance to say the things that matter anymore." Daren knew that Murdock's own wife had been missions for over twenty years now, something that had definitely left its mark on the man. "Trust me on that, lad."

Murdock was still the matchmaker he'd been when they both were younger men with less weight on their shoulders. "I do," Daren answered, before shaking his head, "but I'm not so certain about that 'lad' part – I think one of us is getting too old for that."

"I'm older than ye, I'll call ye what I damn well like." Victor snorted. "Besides, I'm Chief O' Starfleet now. Who's goin ta argue the point?"

"I imagine, sir," Daren replied with a sigh as his grin faded, "that you could compile a list if you tried."

"Oh, no doubts there." the Admiral agreed readily. "I can think of at least two who ye've probably seen real recently, or so I hear."

"Without a doubt, everyone down to the janitorial staff knows about my visitors," Daren returned. "It's a small station and I'm – for the moment – newsworthy."

"Aye. Political bullshit is what it is, but then, that's hardly new. The fleet runs on politics as much as it does dilithium and deuterium." the Scotsman said derisively. "Most days I wake up thinkin real hard that I could probably get away with demotin meself back down to Captain if I tried. Then I'd take a ship so far out to the borders, I dinna think I'd ever come near the Council - or the Admiralty - again."

"If you do," Daren said quietly, eyes out on the stars, "I might know where you could find a helmsman for the ship."

That got a smile out of the Old Man. "Always knew ye could be counted on, lad." Victor said, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. It then occurred to him that, given M'Kantu's present difficulties, the offer might just be for real. "Yuir not serious, of course?"

"No, not really," Daren conceded. "Tempting as the offer is, that's not who – or what – I am anymore. I grew into something else, spread my wings and learned to fly on my own." Daren glanced at the older man next to him. "You'd have me busted back to ensign in about a week for disobeying orders and doing things my own way, sir. Not that the idea of being an ensign again doesn't have some appeal right now, but… like I said, that's not who I am anymore."

"'Course it isn't." Murdock snorted. "Yuir a starship captain now, bucko. No better job in the world."

"Except maybe father… and husband," Daren replied, stilling the conversation for a few moments.

Victor certainly wouldn't disagree with that, having been both himself. "I know Teleel and Abrik have been down to see ye." Murdock finally added after a moment's silence.

"They did," Daren acknowledged.

"I expect they probably tossed a lot of nonsense yuir way having to do with those ridiculous parties of theirs?" the C-in-C asked.

"I'm not certain that 'ridiculous' is the word I would have chosen, but yes, they both made their offers."

Murdock snorted again. His opinion on politics in general, and people that played political games, was all contained in that single derisive snort.

"Admiral Teleel was very polite, and didn't press too hard," Daren admitted. "But I'm afraid that Admiral Abrik wasn't amused when I quoted something June once told me to him. I doubt either of them will be in my cheering section at the hearing."

"I just want ye not to worry. Don't make any decisions based on any crap promises they've offered ye." Murdock said then, extremely seriously. He'd ignored this ongoing politicizing of Starfleet for quite some time. Similar incidents had cropped up in Starfleet's past, but they'd always worked themselves out over time. This time, though, it was starting to seem as though that wouldn't happen.

For a moment Daren wondered if his old friend was serious. Did he really think that either of the offers had been tempting? Did he believe that Daren would – could – do either of the things that they'd wanted him to do? No, that wasn't it – it couldn't be. More likely, Murdock was worried that he'd simply resign rather than deal with the lot of them based on the start of their conversation. Still…. "Why not?"

"Because I'll be serving as the head of the review board meself, Daren. Ye'll get a fair hearing - if I have to string Olivia Proctor up by her uniform to make sure it happens. Ye'll get a fair day in court."

"That's all anyone could ask for, sir," Daren nodded. "If I am, in fact no longer competent to command, then I'd rather it came from you anyway. If you say it, then it'll be true and not politically expedient."

"If yuir not, lad, then ye can be damn sure I'll let ye know." the Admiral replied. He didn't add - not verbally - that if Daren M'Kantu wasn't someone fit for command anymore, then Starfleet really had gone down the crapper while he'd been away. "I'll let ye get back to yuir reading, then. Give June my regards."

"I will, sir." Daren nodded, and watched as his former commander left.

"Waiting for Nothing"

Various NPCs

*****Promenade, Deep Space 5*****

"Looking for anything in particular?" The shopowner looked at Professor Marks hopefully. The man had paced by several times and perhaps an impulse buy from an ansy man could improve Vermor's revenue for the day.

"No."

The ugly way it was said, the shopowner frowned and ducked back into his booth. He did manage to see another officer come up and smiled as he approached him. "Sir, I just got a new..."

"Not today Vermor." The tall, middle-aged man smiled back. He went straight to Marks. "Sir, we just got word that the USS Galaxy had changed course and will not be here at the scheduled time."

Marks was obviously not happy about this, "Well, when WILL they get here!"

Commander Jones sighed. This man had been on the station for less than a week and had already caused grief. Grousing around and all. But he was an esteemed professor at the Academy so that made it even worse. "Sir, it's a Starship. Who knows how long they'll be there and what else will deter them from getting here."

Marks frowned, "Just contact me when you know they'll be around. But if I make another wasted trip, I'll report you!"

Jones tried not to laugh, nor ask for what. It wasn't his fault the Galaxy can't make scheduled stops as much as he was sure they'd like. He tried to keep his cool as he calmly joked, "Sir, the only sure way to make sure they make it to any spaceport is to damage them so bad they'll have to be tractored back."

Marks was serious as he remarked, "I'll have to see about that."

Jones watched him wearily as he walked away. At least the impossible man would be out of his hair for awhile. He couldn't help wonder why on earth he was so intent on that ship.

*****Later, in Mark's Quarters an DS5*****

"It's ok. If anything, we'll just send you to them." A woman looked unbothered by the situation.

"Then do it! Procur me a shuttle to rendevoux with them now!" He barked at the blonde slim older woman on the screen.

She sighed, "I can't. They're going into something that we can't allow you to be part of. As soon as they come back from there, we'll see what we can do." She looked thoughtful a moment, "Why do you want that ship so bad?"

"There's something I have to take care of." With that, he snapped off the comm. The woman disappeared and he paced his room. He had to talk to Roswell. He had to get her to drop charges. He had to remind her what this could do to her career.

He grumpily packed, letting it sink in that he'd have to wait a bit longer to do so.

"If We Don't Try, Who Will?"

(Takes place 6 days after Galaxy departs the Jem'Hadar colony world)

Principal Characters

Flight Officer Angelienia
Commander James Lionel Corgan

****

USS Galaxy
Secondary Hull
Deck 19
Arboretum

He wasn't here, either.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, as much as she shied away from the idea every time she approached it, there was no denying that it was true. He'd missed every dance session since they'd left the planet, since the rescue mission to retrieve the kidnapped crewmen. He didn't return calls or messages, and even when he saw her on her Security shift, even then, it was as if he were not truly seeing her. Even the night he'd been angry with her, the night that he had ruined her for other men without ever laying a finger on her, he'd seen her. He'd always seen her, always known that she was there. But now... now there was no way to deny what she knew in her heart.

Something was wrong with him.

Not the thing that everyone thought was wrong with him, though. It wasn't the self he kept hidden inside, the one that was closer to the surface now than it had ever been before, pushing the others away from him as fiercely as it drew her ever closer, promising her the one thing that she needed above all others. Not that, never that.

It was something else, something that had made him withdraw into himself to such a degree that he seemed almost a shadow of what he'd been.

She'd thought for a long time that it had been the Mouse; that she'd said or done something to him that had made it happen. Whatever it was had started to happen after the mission to Mirusa VI, after he and the Mouse had fallen out. That more than anything else told her that the two of them had never been lovers, that they'd had never been as close as the Mouse had claimed; if they had, Victor would have torn the universe asunder to keep her at his side. But he'd done nothing, said nothing; just continued on as he had before - and started to withdraw.

No matter how hard she tried, though, no matter what she conjured up, she couldn't think of anything that the Mouse could have said which would do this, which would make him start to draw in on himself this way. There were no words that she knew that could do this to him - and it would have had to have been words. There'd been no violence, she knew that for certain. Victor wouldn't have raised a hand to the Mouse even if she'd attacked him, she wasn't his chosen prey. He only took those that were evil, those that were a danger to the others around him. Whatever else the Mouse might be, she wasn't that.

It had to have been something on the planet, something that the alien intelligence that had played games with the landing parties did to him, then. But what? And how could she reach past it to him, how could she help him before he withdrew so far inside himself that no one could draw him out again?

She needed to talk to someone else, to get another person's point of view... but who? The Major? No, while he might know more about relationships between men and women that any six people after getting his lives in order, he was sleeping with the Mouse now. To go to him felt... wrong. Who else then? A counselor? No, that would mean talking to *the* counselor, Karyn Dallas, and she was terrified of Victor; there would be no help there. Where else...?

Commander Corgan.

Not only was he Victor's supervisor, he seemed to like her man - or at least, to understand him - which was better, she thought, in this case. But not in his office, that would make it a formal visit, with rules and reports that would need to be filed. Something less fraught with paperwork, a private call on him in his quarters. That was the way to do it.

She stood, brushing the dirt from her pants, and nodded. Commander Corgan. In his quarters. That's how she'd do it.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 8
James Corgan's Quarters

James hardly considered himself a sophisticated person, but when he did decide to put on an air it hardly ever became simple.

His moods were in his music, and today he felt like being in the eye of the storm. The music he tried to emulate on his electric guitar, a facsimile of his antique Fender Strat that sounded perfect in its 24th century refinement but couldn't reach that old world perfection, snarled and harmonized as he tried to master another classic.

He was failing miserably, though a layman would have considered his playing to be oddly skillful, if not preferable to modern tastes. It had to be the synthesized sounds, the ones no instrument save a midi keyboard and a wild imagination could accomplish. It was throwing off his music until he wanted it gone. But to isolate those sounds weren't as simple as isolating energies in a tricorder or a deflector dish. For that he would have to disassemble original recordings; electronics wise it was like trying to open the Dead Sea scrolls.

He did hear the doorbell, and as a courtesy he paused the music and set his guitar down. James never received many visitors. Mika was teaching a class. Captain Henderson, though not very close to him respected his boundaries, Victor wasn't very sociable and all his other friends were assigned to other starships. That left T'lan, and he didn't know how she spent her days off. It was not with him, which left the flustered chief thankful.

"Come in." James said offhandedly.

The thing about doors, Angelienia realized as she pressed the call button and the door to the quarters slid open, was that you didn't always know what was on the other side until they opened.

The security chief's main quarters were much talked about. Every senior officer had a flavor in which their rooms were made into, but James was considered to be the most curious. Partially it had to do with the collection of memorabilia. A terminal that held access to music considered outdated and rare. Some artwork both modern and antique that extolled the virtues of musicians or showed imagery best left explained to psychologists, drugs, or the lyrics of said musician in which it 'claimed' to represent. There were the instruments, one being a smashed Fender Strat antique guitar that met its fate at the hands of an angry Hirogen, a work table with parts from a phaser II; the remnants of a customization on his own sidearm, both signs of his dual professions and bard and warrior. A bamboo shinai rested on pegs affixed to the wall, as well as a cagelike helmet and chest armor.

The Commander's quarters were not quite what she'd expected. In her mind - based, she had to admit, on the tales of women in her coffee klatch - she'd envisioned deep carpeting, mirrored walls and ceilings, a bed the size of a shuttlecraft, and mementos from his past lovers inside small glass cases around the room. The truth was... more interesting, really. It made him less two-dimensional, more real.

Now that Angelienia had a good moment to make up her mind about James, what was Corgan to think? Not much... he barely knew the woman aside from Victor's stories. From what James remembered, he advised Victor to steer clear; his stories were reminiscent of stalker tales. But to have her in his quarters only brought up questions.

"May I help you?" James Corgan ventured.

"I... need to speak to you off the record, sir," Angelienia said slowly. Corgan would need to agree to that before anything else could happen. She wouldn't send her man off to the hell of endless counseling sessions that a formal discussion would create. "May I come in?"

His eyebrow arched in a Vulcan salute, James waved his arm to the couch. As she saw, James couldn't help but try to appraise this woman he'd barely met. She seemed nice enough, and she didn't try to barge into his private time but asked. Her poise was untrained but well enough where she didn't need it. She was attractive enough, but not in a way that called for his attention. Pretty, but not one to stand out in a room. She at least dressed well; in civilian earth tones and in pants and a blouse (it was the fashion, only his darling Mika ever bothered to wear dresses and skirts, for which he was thankful). James felt underdressed in simple black pants and one of his old concert t-shirts.

At first glance, she seemed normal. Too normal for James, but normal enough to perhaps help Victor. Then again, first glances were not very reliable, as seen in his experiences with women.

"Anything to drink?" James asked.

"Some juice, if that's all right?" Angelienia replied. "One of the Terran fruits - papaya it think you call it - would be nice." She had never cared for coffee, but a search of the things Victor most often requested to drink had led her to that juice and she'd found it pleasant.

He replicated the beverages and rested them on his coffee table. He questioned gently, "Victor has told me a little about you, and I must admit what he told me is out of date. How are you two getting along?"

"I..." Angelienia blinked and didn't try to suppress the smile that came to her face suddenly. "He... talks about me?" She shifted on the couch, trying not to lean forward and ask for more details even though she knew that Corgan couldn't miss the sudden surge of hope and pleasure the words had put in her voice.

Corgan not only heard it, he responded to it. "Don't get your hopes up," he deadpanned. "I warned him about what you were trying."

"Oh." She closed her eyes and sighed softly, as unable to hide the disappointment in her voice and posture as she had the hope a moment before. "I see." Her expression shifted to a sad smile. "He knew without your telling him. He always knows when he's being hunted," she said quietly.

"Now is not the time to talk about that." Corgan grumbled. He drank his coffee, grimaced at the replicator sludge he had these days, and said, "So, what's wrong with Victor that he can't handle himself?"

She hadn't said anything to bring that on - why had he said that? It was familiar, that sudden change of direction, she'd heard it before... from Victor. "He does that too, you know," she said after a second. "Suddenly changes the topic to the core of an issue without warning."

"Oh?" James hummed; other than their common experiences, James and Victor had little else in common. Victor was a hunter and a wolf archetype, James was the protective type, and while James could set aside savage past for a more civil present, Victor was always Victor. To see something else in common was slightly alarming, as if he was closer to being an animal than he cared to admit. ~"Nonsense..."~ He thought grimly, ~"Where does she get off thinking she knows so much about Victor that she can compare him to me so readily? She needs to stop thinking about Victor and get to her problem."~ He then acted as if it was business as usual, "Security officers can't afford to be sidetracked at times, especially combat veterans. But that is beside the point. I think I should truly bring us back to the core of the issue, as you say, and find out what is going on. Are you going to tell me?"

"He...." She started to tell him, started to say the words and stopped, momentarily unable to. "I..." Angelienia looked down at her hands. "I don't know what it is, not exactly. I just know that there's something wrong with him."

James patiently soothed, as if questioning a victim, "Take your time. Think it over."

"Something's wrong with him. I've been... watching... him for so long now, been... I'd know. We were made for each other, and nothing happens to him that I don't know when I see him. I know when he's been in a fight before I see the reports, when he wants to be alone, when he doesn't want to be alone - even if he doesn't know it himself. And I know there's something wrong."

~"What makes her so sure about all this?"~ James thought to himself, not at all convinced that Victor really was in trouble, ~"She is rambling again. And the fact that she sees all this is a clear sign of stalking! How the hell am I going to give this addled b*tch a chance when she's acting like a f**king loon?"~

"Do you actually share time with him?" James probed dispassionately.

"Oh yes," she nodded.

"I mean personally, time with him, in the same room, interacting with him on a personal level. None of this from afar crap, but actually being together. Be honest with me." James Corgan leaned forward, "I don't doubt your claim, but I have to know about the nature of your relationship with Victor. It is very important. Understand?"

He was Victor's superior, he had a right to know her reasons for saying something was wrong with Victor; he needed to know she wasn't just making trouble for his subordinate. "I understand," she replied with a nod. She took a breath and looked up to meet his eyes. "We spend time together every day; we have since the first month of quarantine after the Diparthu incident. Usually about two hours a day, but sometimes more than that." She shook her head at James' raised eyebrow. "I don't expect you to believe me, you can check for yourself. We always reserve Holosuite Three or Holosuite Four in the early evening. Victor does something with the coding so one of them is always reserved for him - something about 'critical training' I think. The internal sensor logs will confirm that we're both there."

James did a quick scan of the holodeck logs on his computer to confirm. While Angelienia was telling the truth, he found the selection of holodeck programs to be... odd. "What?" James asked, surprised, "No wild boar hunts on the Serengeti? No Mugato wrestling? Maybe you're right, this isn't like Victor. What are you two doing?"

"We... dance," she said, a tiny shiver running through her at the memory of Victor's arms around her.

"Really?" James bewilderedly questioned. "Real dancing or... dancing?"

Angelienia shook her head again. "No, not that dance. It's what I want with him - he knows that - but he always says 'no' when I try to ..." She stopped for a second before finishing, "...when I try to convince him that's the way things are supposed to be between us. We... dance. Dances I've never heard of before. Terran dances that require us to wear odd costumes - though he always looks good in them - and that have names like 'Tango' and 'Vie... Viennese Waltz' and 'Salsa." She suppressed another shiver. "I like that last one the most."

"I see. Salsa can be quite a vigorous exercise. I may have to recommend it to my girlfriend myself." James scribbled on his PADD, saved the file for a possible investigation, ~"Just when I thought Victor was two dimensional... what a surprise."~ "But tell me more. Was that when you thought Victor was acting out of the ordinary, or afterwards?"

"At first that was all we did, just danced. Then... then we had dinner there, in the simulation once in a while. That's more often now. Sometimes... sometimes we stay for a whole simulation of a party, and act like we're guests attending it. I... that makes me feel like we're... the way we're supposed to be. Together." She took a drink of her juice. "I've thought about changing the program a little lately, having the computer add a storyline to it; something to give him more to do than just dance. A theft or other crime to investigate, perhaps... nothing too elaborate, because I don't know if he would like that." Angelienia frowned, not even bothering to look down or to the side despite knowing that it made her less attractive. "But then... something happened."

His frosty opinion about Angelienia started to warm. ~"She's starting to get into his interests. Maybe she is serious, and it is not some sort of lust. Maybe she is in love. Granted, a strong willed pushy kind of love, but it's there. I'll have to ask Victor if I get the chance of what he makes of it. Oh well, maybe I ought to stop judging her and get on with this Victor business."~

"What happened after that?" Corgan asked.

"We went to that..." she literally spat a word in what James assumed was her native Ktarian, "...planet, the one with the Jem'Hadar animals and their Hydran masters. Something happened there."

"Oh?" James said, intrigued. He was down on that planet as well, and was abducted by the Hydrans. He was confined for an unknown amount of time in a containment cylinder. From there, he saw strange experiments performed on fellow crewmates. He had the fortune of being last, and the Hydrans didn't get around to him before the rescue. But odd as it was, he didn't recall Victor being on that experimental table, and his field of vision was limited by his restraints.

Could he have been there? Was he experimented on?

"Tell me what happened," he pressed.

"I don't know," she sighed. "If I knew what it was, I could fix it - or try to. I know that he beamed down for a little while to help rescue a trapped person in some caves, but came back just before the recall, and then went back out on the rescue mission. One of those places, something happened to him. It's the only thing I can think of. He was... something was wrong before that, but it wasn't... it wasn't like this. After Mirusa VI he seemed to pull in on himself, to... withdraw. I thought it was something the Mouse did for a while, but it couldn't have been. She would have used words and no words could hurt him like that. Then we started to meet every night to dance, and I thought... I thought he was getting better, he seemed more... right... when we were dancing - like he was... we were..." She looked at James to see he could supply the words that seemed to escape her.

James didn't say a word, but he did try to reassure her with a smile. "I think I know what you mean. I have a girlfriend myself, and we humans have a hard time expressing our feelings to our loved ones. She's Andorian, and they tend to be more expressive and emotionally open. It drives her nuts when I can't give her a straight answer. I bet it does the same to you. But what you are looking for is love, correct?"

The Ktarian nodded, "Yes, that's it. But then... then he went down to that planet and... when he came back, he was... different."

~"The heart of the matter."~ James Corgan thought, "How different?"

"He doesn't dance anymore. He won't talk to me. He doesn't do the other things he used to do. It's like he's... fallen inside himself and become lost." She blinked and looked down at her juice. "He doesn't even see me any more."

"Could it be depression?" James said, but at a loss as to say why when Victor was usually as morose as a human being could get. ~"How much more depressing could he possibly go?"~

"No, not like that - at least I don't think so - I mean when he literally looks at me, he doesn't *see* me. It's like I'm a... a... an old 2-D image, not a person, not someone that he's held in his arms." She looked up, her concern and worry evident in her eyes. "Do you understand?"

"I think I do." James jotted down the last note with his stylus pen, and deactivated his PADD. His face creased with worry. Even when Victor didn't care about someone, he still saw them with hunter's eyes, not with despondence. It was settled. There was something wrong with Victor. "The problem is, how do we approach him about this?"

Angelienia frowned again, thinking. "I don't know. I just know that I have to do something, because there isn't anyone else that will. I can't go to the counselors, that would mean they'd run tests and probes and that would just make this worse, them treating him like a thing instead of a person. Besides, Counselor Dallas hates him, or is so scared of him that there's no difference between the two. She'd send him away to some hospital moon somewhere and..." She shook her head. "No, I won't let that happen to him. I can't."

"No Counselor Dallas. Gotcha." James recalled the bitterness between Victor and Karyn. Victor was sorry, that much James remembered, but though manipulated as he was, he was still not half the victim Karyn was to begin with. Karyn, from what James remembered, was fragile from her own past, and to ask for her co-operation was to invite trouble. "She'll stay out of it for now, but the second Victor goes off the deep end the counselor's office will be involved. For now, we should try to observe him, just in case we jump to the wrong conclusion. Alert me when something goes out of the ordinary."

With a nod she gave herself a second to push away her thoughts of Victor, alone in a white room, doctors looking in through windows at him. "I thought that you might have an idea, might know something I could do since you understand him more than most, maybe better than anyone but me... and in a different way."

"You have to remember, our comradeship is on a professional level." James stated businesslike, "We are not close friends, but we do understand each other on that professional level. I can understand why he is such an efficient security officer. But you have a different understanding of him. For example... I personally don't understand what he thinks of you... or why he would dance, much less enjoy it. But I ramble when I really should get to the point. I understand a piece of him, as a security officer. You understand a piece of him, as a paramour. It is not about who understands him better. We both know the same amount... but with what we both have, we will understand him more." He rose from his chair, a tall but whipcord form, watching as if a hound watched a flock, "Now go. And be careful. If its one thing we both understand about Victor, it's that getting too close is dangerous."

Angelienia stood up, shaking her head. "Victor wouldn't hurt me," she said with quiet conviction. "Not unless I did something to make myself the kind of prey he hunts, and I won't do that. I just wish I knew how to reach him, how to show him what it is that we're supposed to be together. If I could do that... if I could do that then nothing could keep us apart." She paused and looked at James. "I know you're not him, not even *like* him, even though you're both humans - no one is like him. But... is there something I haven't thought of? Some way to... reach him that only another human would know?"

James replied, "You don't have to prove anything to him. Just... let it happen."

"Perhaps so," she sighed quietly. "I pushed too hard earlier, when I didn't understand him as well, and that didn't work out the way I wanted it to. But now, I'm afraid now that if I wait too long... he'll be lost, and it will never happen." Her green cat's eyes met James' for a moment. "And if I don't try to reach him, to help him... who will?"

James couldn't help but notice Angelienia's eyes. They were glowing, full of life, excusing her forwardness as a fact of life about her. To that James envied, looking in the mirror those days meant staring at gray eyes, dead as his homeworld's moon. "I do not know." James said, meaning every word, "But we will try."

“In between…”

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer – USS Galaxy

Sara-Jayne Agathon
Civilian (PCC)

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

For a change, it was quiet this evening. There were only a few patients outside, mostly here for routine medicals, the Jem’Hadar aboard seemed a little happier now that she had ordered one of the smaller medbays on the lower decks set aside for their specific use, it was causing a little less friction between everyone not having to interact in the same medbay, as she had explained to the Captain, they were a proud people, and appearing weak before others didn’t stand well with them.

It was at least quieter outside.

On the upside, having Na’Toha aboard was proving to be an asset in the mapping of the ‘new’ Jem’Hadar physiology and their lack of dependence on the White, while she might still be young physically her mind was inquisitive and she learned with a speed Kimberly could only envy.

~ Guess the founders did a few things right when they created these guys. ~ she admitted to herself silently. It helped though that Na’Toha’s daughter was one of the survivors as well, though her mate having decided to stay behind didn’t seem to be sitting very well with her, ~ Just how does one go about counselling a Jem’Hadar? ~ she thought.

~ Very carefully I would imagine! ~ she answered herself after a moments reflection.

Looking over her notes to date on these Jem’Hadar she spent a moment comparing the file to scans taken during the war. Sighing after a moment she slid the PADD with her research note on it aside and picked up another from a precarious pile on the floor.

The explosive decompression incident in the cargo bay during the emergency transports had unfortunately killed several of the more veteran paramedics on her staff, as well as several doctors and nurses. With their by-passing of Deep-Space Five to head straight for ch’Rihan and the funeral she had only been able to make a request for replacements, actual transfers for most would likely have to wait now until they were out of Rihannsu space.

Along with recent transfers there was now somewhat of a shortage of paramedics she realised. Not dangerously low but sufficiently low enough for her to call up the Emergency Preparedness Program list and call a few of the staff there for interviews, to see if they would be ready for more that their usual once or twice a month shift in medbay.

Starting with the counsellors, then moving on to engineers, security, marines and so on, she drew up a list of about a dozen people who she wanted to see initially, at the top of the list though was Na’Toha. While it might not be a popular choice with some among the crew, she was certainly a capable doctor, having handled herself well during the earlier emergency, and with the loss of three doctors it was prudent to at least ask.

Sending out the meeting requests she sat back and sighed, if there was one thing she really hated though, it was writing the letters to the families. Ever since her transfer to the Relentless she’d had to write more and more, for crew killed in some distant part of space most of their families would never even know of, let alone see.

Clearing a slot on her schedule for a counselling appointment she shook her head ruefully, ~ If there was one thing about being a CMO and former CCO, you had no excuse not to look after yourself. ~ she told herself as she left her office, ~ Time to do the yearly psych review. ~

Arriving back at her quarters after a slow and leisurely walk Kimberly walked in and immediately dumped the small stack of PADD's she was carrying on the table just inside the door, placed there for that very purpose, taking off her uniform jacket she dropped that on the table as well and frowned, something had changed here in the hours she had been at work. Studying the room for a second it actually took her that long to figure it out...

"It's tidy!" she realized, seeing the neat piles of PADD's, the orderly furniture and lack of clothes in the living area. It wasn't that she was a messy person, but Kimberly had a fairly relaxed and casual attitude toward her quarters, Sara though it seemed did not share the sentiment it appeared, smelling something odd she stepped over to the dining table and saw beyond it someone had set up in the corner a small cooking area, heat pads, prep area and storage, and on one of the pads an intriguing smell was emanating from a pot. Lifting the lid she saw inside what appeared to be a stew, though she couldn't identify anything she saw in there.

"Hands off!" Sara's said from behind her as she stepped out from one of the side rooms.

Dropping the lid Kimberly turned to face the teenager, "Hand off?" she enquired with a raised eyebrow, "You've been busy," she complimented the girl, “and where did all this come from?" indicating the newly installed cooking area, “and why?”

"I've seen your cooking, it's a classic example of the difference between good cooking and good intentions," Sara said archly, walking over to the pot she stirred the contents gently and tasted, "It's no wonder you live out of a replicator," she added with a shudder at the thought as she adding a few pinches of various things, turning to Kimberly, "I called Ops," she explained, "asked if they could send someone to install all this after I got stores to replicate it all for me,"

"And Ops sent someone just like that?" Kimberly asked steadily, eyebrow still aiming for the ceiling.

"Weeeelll..." Sara muttered, trying to look innocent.

"Sara-Jayne," Kimberly said formally, "did you tell Ops 'I' wanted this ASAP?" she asked.

Stirring the pot again Sara just nodded, avoiding eye contact with her guardian.

Sighing Kimberly shook her head, "Okay then, 'this time'," she started, adding emphasis on 'this time', "I'm not going to complain, mainly because that smells very good, but if you want something done, or want to do something, ask me please 'before' you call Ops and use my name, please," she repeated.

"I wanted to surprise you," Sara said in her own defence, finally turning to face Kimberly.

"And I really do appreciate the thought," Kimberly replied with a smile, giving Sara a hug she indicated the room, "it 'is' a lovely surprise," she assured the girl, "and you've tidied as well!" she complimented the teenager, giving her a kiss on her forehead, "you're tidier than I was at your age," she said with a laugh.

"I'm tidier than you are 'now'," Sara said impulsively as she returned the hug warmly, then, realising what she had inadvertently said aloud she smiled innocently and tried to think of a tactful way to get out of the hole she had just dug, "not that this place was a mess," she added hastily, "but it's..." pausing she tried to think of something, anything, to say that wouldn't sound like she was complaining.

Shaking her head Kimberly had to laugh though, "Its okay," she admitted, "I know I’m not exactly the tidiest person in the 'verse, and I will take that as the not so subtle hint it probably was to be a little tidier," she promised.

Hesitating a second, Sara bit her lip, "Does that include the KittyKat?" she asked.

Laughing Kimberly had to smile, "You don't give up, do you," she said with a wry smile, ever since Sara had first set foot on the KittyKat she had made occasional comments regarding the 'clutter' on board, indeed, her first words after seeing the main cabin had been 'Oh my god, what, a, mess… do you actually live here’, "Tell you what, tomorrow after my shift I’ll head down there and make a start, how's that sound?" she offered.

"I'll help if you like?" Sara offered.

Thinking a moment Kimberly shook her head, "Thank you, but, my mess so I’ll clean up," ~ besides ~ she thought ~ I've no idea what's in there! ~ not having thoroughly cleaned up in a while now, "Anyway, dinner?" she reminded Sara, letting go of the young lady, “what is it?”

“Vegetable stew,” Sara replied, “and,” bending down she opened a drawer under the work surface and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted out, “fresh bread!”

Her mouth almost watering at the smell of the fresh bread Kimberly smiled, “I think the cooking is your department from now on,” she suggested amiably.

“Agreed,” pulling the bread out, “’You…’do not ‘touch’ the cooking stuff, ‘Agreed’!” Sara said firmly.

Raising her hands in submission Kimberly smiled, “Okay, okay,” getting some plates and utensils out of a cupboard she set the table, “We’ve also got to chat about what you’re doing aboard ship,” she said, “we’ve been aboard a while now, but all you do is school and spend a ‘lot’ of time on the interweb, time to see what else there is to do.”

Looking at Kimberly with a frown Sara sighed, “Okay,” she surrendered, “After dinner, but only if you do the same, you spend as much time here as ‘I’ do…” ~ I’m sure Sam’ll have a few ideas! Other than illicit planetary excursions that is, ~ Surprised that their little jaunt down to Junction hadn’t yet been discovered.

~ Smart ass ~ Kimberly thought, ~ Hoist on my own petard though ~ she realised, nodding she silently agreed.

“Let’s eat.”

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