"In the Mosh Pit."

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer

Ensign Kio
Medical Officer

Medical Bay

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

Kio approached her chief medical officer with her chin held high and a rigid step. She had not before spoken to Kimberley Burton on any matter other than their work together, but of the various people she might approach the woman seemed the most likely to help without too many questions asked about her little problem. She was also, of course, her immediate superior.

"May I please speak with you Officer Burton?" She asked.

Looking up at the voice Kimberly smiled, "Hello Ensign," waving to one of the vacant seats opposite her she slid her PADD aside and sat up, "How can I help you?"

After a moment's pause Kio sat down but it was clear she was lacking her customary Vulcan poise by the rigidity of her spine. "I was wondering if you might examine me. I appear to be having some trouble with my... hearing." She said. Ascertaining that something more might be needed she added: "I believe that I may have inadvertently caused damage upon pursuing a new... ex-curricular activity."

Nodding Kimberly stood and motioned the ensign to the main ward, "Of course, this way," leading the way out of her office she looked for a free biobed and headed in it's general direction, "mind if I ask, what new activity are you trying out that could harm your hearing?"

Kio sat her-self on the biobed and looked firmly at the wall behind Kimberley as she replied: "I believe it is referred to as 'Heavy Metal.' It is a form of earth music dating from the late twentieth century and my research indicated it to be an excellent study of human emotion through music; most particularly anger and euphoria...and that the volume to experience it at was to be very loud. I am now experiencing much discomfort in my inner ear and judge to have lost approximately 40% of my hearing ability."

Wincing at the thought of a Vulcan's sensitive hearing being subjected to such an assault Kimberly reached for an Aural scanner, "I've heard of 'Heavy Metal', listened to it once myself at the Academy for a class," placing the scanner over Kio's ears she set it for a Vulcans physiology and activated it, "what made you pick Heavy Metal? Why didn't you start with something a little easier on the ears, so to speak?"

Kio's gaze became even more glazed as she answered: "It was recommended to me by another crew member. They seemed to think that it would help me to better understand non-Vulcan cultures. They also recommended Klingon opera which I was unfortunately unable to progress to." She looked at her superior officer and a small crease appeared between her brows. "Is it possible that my acquaintance may have derived some amusement from his recommendation? I observed that he and another crew member appeared to be emotionally effected by my discomfort this morning."

When you say 'emotionally effected, do you mean in a humorous way?"

"Yes, I believe they were laughing."

"Does the term 'Practical Joke' mean anything to you?" Kimberly asked as she watched the readouts on the biobed from the Aural scan, "'cause I'd hazard a guess this is what's happened."

Kio's lips tightened and she managed to look even glassier eyed as she replied.

"Yes, I am familiar with the concept. I was not aware that it was behaviour to be expected amongst the crew of a Federation star ship. At the academy I became very familiar with the phrase."

"A practical joke is something some Terrans never seem to outgrow, especially around certain times of year," Kimberly explained as she read the scan results, "well, the good news is there seems to be no permanent damage, though we'll have to repair the current damage slowly," picking up a hypo she tapped the biobed dispenser and had a phial transported directly to the bedside, "let me give you this, it's dexamethasone, for intratympanic administration, it'll help us to repair the damage once it's absorbed, that should take about two standard hours so I'll need you back around then to finish your treatment, okay." gently applying the dose carefully to Kio's ears Kimberly stepped back, "you may find your hearing actually a little worse for a while with the dexamethasone in your tympanic cavities, but it's only temporary," she assured her.

Kio nodded and stood up from the biobed.

"Thank you for your examination and the treatment. I would be most grateful for your discretion on this matter." She said politely.

"You're welcome, and as for discretion, well Doctor Patient confidentiality will cover that," Kimberly promised with a smile, "though I feel I should have a chat with the crewmen in question here, there's a limit to practical jokes."

"I will deliver a report of my observations to the crew member in question and give him my thanks for his aid. I believe that this would be a. appropriate expression of my thanks."

"Just be sure to let him know that if this happens again 'I'll' be speaking to him next... I'll see you in a couple of hours."

"I do not believe that will be necessary but.thank you."

Kio left the medical bay with only one purpose in mind. Revenge was an emotional term so instead she viewed her intentions as a "righting of the balance of things." But she anticipated the embarrassment and guilt she meant to cause in the practical joker with something verging on pleasure.

She was also pleased to observe to her-self that Lieutenant Kimberly Burton had been both understanding and professional in her aid and that she was an altogether pleasant humanoid to spend time with. A rare experience, perhaps Kio would eventually become able to socially integrate upon the Galaxy after all? It was just a matter of understanding and picking her "friends" with care.

{{OOC: Synopsis for the new guys : my character is part of a small covert operations team sent to Hydran territory to procure intelligence about suspicious Hydran buildup. After several adventures (And after almost every single member of the team got caught…), he returned to the ship, ready to leave the accursed planet for good. Only one loose strand remains…}}

"The Yridian Fix"

Lieutenant J.G. Saul Bental

Chief Tactical Officer

Saul spent his final five minutes on Vaden making a call.

He planned to make the approach in person, since communications could be intercepted, but Radu Prett (both of them) left him no time to get back to the working place of his soon-to-be-recruited agent.

He nervously signaled toward Miramon to stall, as the Bajoran seemed quite anxious to ignite the engines and leave Vaden behind.

Quite understandable, Saul reckoned.

The screen flashed twice as the connection was established, giving Saul just enough time to adopt a serious, businesslike expression before the familiar face appeared.

* * *

Haput tilted his head, watching the face with mild curiosity. His wrinkled face were covered with sooth and his shirt spotted with cleaning oil leftovers, as he spent the better part of that morning cleaning all the REZ-8Moch cyberbots until they shined.

He had no idea why the stranger that bartered with the Patriarch the other day contacted his room's console. Probably a mistake.

"I'll redirect you to the shopkeeper, sir.", He blurted out mechanically, and reached for the panel."

"There will be no need."

"Oh?"

The stranger's face twisted, his mouth arching. Haput recalled that in Humans it meant that they were happy.

"I was actually looking for you.", The stranger explained.

"I know what you're thinking sir.", The pre-teen Yridian said hurridly, "But the truth was I was simply heading in the same direction as you and your friend. There's a shop down that road that sells-"

"I don't mind that the shopkeeper asked you to follow me.", The stranger assured him. "In fact you were pretty good. My friend didn't notice you before I told him that we were being followed."

"Ah.", Haput didn't know whether he felt flattered or disappointed.

"In fact, it convinced me to do something I contemplated on beforehand. I would like to make a business proposition…"

"I'll redirect you to-", Haput started again.

"…to you."

The Yridian boy stared at the console, confused. He wasn't used to grown up paying attention to him, noticing that he was there. He was an urchin. A pest, a small insect buzzing just below the range of perception. He definitely never got business proposals before.

Still, he watched the patriarch enough to know what to do. He waited for the stranger to make his proposal.

"Vaden is profitable, but only if you stay up-to-date." The stranger spoke, "Unfortunately, most of them time I'm too far away to keep tabs on what's going on. I need reliable eyes and ears, to help me decide when to make trips to Vaden and what kinds of cargo will yield the most profit. Now, Yridians are well known around the Galaxy as information traders."

"Yes we are.", Haput declared, and a gust of long forgotten patriotic wind filled his chest with pride.

"Also, you're one of the few people I met on Vaden which can get me business information, and aren't a competition. You spy on your boss' competitors, right?"

"I just go around and look at their prices. There are no laws against checking prices!", Haput protested.

"And that's all I need for you. Check prices of commodities – I deal with robotic parts and ores. Mostly for industrial and military use. And if anything big happens, I would also like to know. A good trader can make use of any information. Anything."

"What's in it for me?", Haput demanded, imitating the patriarch. He couldn't help feeling that the words sounded meek coming out of his mouth.

"The standard fee. I am sure a Yridian knows what the standard fee is?"

Of course he did. Years have passed since he last set foor on Yridian soil, but Haput digested things like this while sucking from his mother's Teybruions as an infant.

"How frequent?", He asked simply.

"I'll send you the details of a drop-off in the central Vaden network. I'll be checking it every fifteen Vaden days, and that's also where I'll leave your fee. If you feel like you need to barter – leave your new demands in that drop-off, and I'll consider the continuation of our deal. But I suppose the standard fee will suffice?"

Haput tried not to appear too eager. "For now, sir."

"A deal, then. My name is Raheem. Raheem al Hariri.", The stranger concluded, and did something very unexpected; He moved his left hand in the traditional Yridian gesture signaling the signing of a successful deal.

Haput returned the gesture. "Haput Oi ve'ey."

"I'll be looking forward to hear from you. And I don't need to tell a Yridian to keep a secret, right? I'm sure your boss won't appreciate your new job."

"No he won't, sir.", Haput agreed, and a satisfied smile surfaced on his boyish face.

* * *

"What was that all about?", Miramon asked, once Saul told him politely that they could now get the crap away from the dumphole known as Vaden whenever Miramon felt like it.

"Our new best friend on Vaden.", Saul smiled enigmatically. "And the best investment the credits we earned on Vaden could buy."

The engines' low hum drowned Saul's final words, as the Backbroken's Reward slowly disconnected itself from the docking bay, and began its long ascent toward the gray skies, and from there – home.

"By the Bike Racks After School'

By Aren Furai and Ember Lansky

Ember walked into Ten-Forward, eager to get a drink after a tiring duty shift that had stretched unduly long. The crowd had yet to spill into the lounge, and she was glad for the reprieve as she made her order before settling into an empty table, stretching her legs out before her indulgently. She didn't intend to stay long; only long enough for her to soothe her parched throat then make her way back to her quarters.

It was funny, almost… how fast the rumor mill worked on Galaxy. Aren's naked sprint through the corridor had spread like wildfire, and there was once or twice when she overheard someone mentioning it nearby. It was hard to keep a secret in a confined space like a ship, where people worked, lived and breathed next to each other, much less juicy news that would make tabloid headlines like what Aren did. Still, it never failed to amaze her how gossipy people could get.

Surprisingly, not many seemed to know she was the 'evil witch' behind the deed. Or if they did, they hadn't dared to shoot her with censuring looks. She had to admit though, that the harmless joke was beginning to seem less and less hilarious by the second. Ember couldn't imagine how a fragile girl like Aren would take the gossip. It nagged on her mind.

In truth, Aren didn't feel like doing much of anything after her shift. However many of her new friends had convinced her (rather forcefully) to accompany them to the lounge for some rest and relaxation. She was embaressed to go out, considering that the turn of almost every rumor and conversation somehow involved her public display of nudity yesterday. Everybody was looking at her with some sort of amused _expression on their face.

She wanted to find a quiet corner of the ship and die. Not literally of course, but it wasn't that far from how she was feeling.

"Come on, Furai... cheer up." One of her female compatriots said with a grin, nudging her at the elbow. "You can't let Lansky bury you like this, personally I think she gets a high from doing stuff like that. You're also not the first person to get burned by her, last I heard one of the other pilots was catching quite a bit of hell from her too..."

"O'Connor?" Replied another one of the nameless faces in the group. "Yeah I almost feel bad for the guy, but he *does* keep going back to her too." He laughed for a moment, which sparked amusment from his nearby peers. "It's almost as if he enjoys it."

Aren sighed lightly, following her friends into a nearby booth where everybody immediately started to order strange varieties of synthahol. She ordered a glass of lemonade, not being in the mood to even pretend she's drinking alcohol. "I don't see how anybody could, I've never been more uncomfortable in my life."

"Why, because she came on to you? I would have loved to have been there for that, could have taken some pictures and..." Thankfully someone decided to give him a sizable whack on the head for being such a dumbass, and everybody laughed more when he couldn't understand why he had been hit in the first place.

Aren just listened, taking subtle sips from her beverage as she listened to the group talk about everything. Her mind continued to return to that scene in the shower room, the feelings of nervousness and uncertainty rolling across her consciousness. She wasn't even sure if she had been repulsed by Ember's seduction at all. There was something about the contact that made it hard for her to clear her thoughts

It was hard to miss the large group that came into the lounge, or the dour look on Aren Furai. Though petite, the black cloud hanging over the girl stood out in stark contrast to the merriment of everyone else. She might as well have hung a neon placard over her head for the way she stood out, like a giant sore thumb. Ember sat up, sipping slowly from the drink in her hand. They hadn't noticed her, and she had caught snatches of their conversation, which surprise surprise, once again, revolved around the headline news of yesterday.

Her muscles tensed when one of the guys commented rudely about Ayden. It certainly explained what Aren meant when she said she had heard stuff about her from other people. She had enough after listening for a few minutes. Unceremoniously, Ember walked over to their table. "Hey Aren," She greeted casually, the rest of the group receiving only a sweep of her cold stare, before it softened when her gaze returned to the girl.

At first the voice didn't register as Aren was still dwelling in her own little world, and yet almost as soon as she looked up, she felt a cold sweat starting to palm across her body. She almost felt like she was in trouble, as if she had been caught or sold out in some way. For some reason, she wasn't *angry* at Lansky. But that didn't mean she could open her mouth either, as she just sat there looking at her with the same composure of a deer on headlights.

Most of Aren's colleagues went incredibly silent as if they were ancipating a painful and agonizing death, shrinking behind each other. Brianna however, didn't. She stood right up and faced Ember. "What do you want?" She demanded sharply, arms crossed. If anybody tried to measure the two up, they'd probably rate about equally. Brianna was physically fit, and even a few inches taller than Lansky.

Aren still didn't know what to say.

Ember shook her head with a soft chuckle. Laughing was probably the last thing to do when tension seemed to escalate to crazy levels, but it was amusing that Aren's friend would think she could intimidate her – and least of all, by physical size. Bigger, the better, as a rule, didn't always work in a fight – something she should know well enough, with her martial arts training. But, it was good to see that Aren had such loyal buddies who would be willing to stand up for her. She admired Brianna's gumption.

"To talk to Aren," She told her directly, meeting her look squarely, not to provoke her to blows, but to show that she was standing firm.

Turning back to Aren, who was still quiet, Ember smiled. "I certainly didn't expect you to run out of the shower room like that. Next time, punch back if you have to. Don't bolt."

After it seemed that Aren wasn't going to respond, Brianna seemed all too ready to interject. The young Hiigaran certainly didn't want to see this develop into a fight, and yet she couldn't get over what had happened. Her arms started to tremble lightly, which she hid under the table, even though her fists were clenched. "Why are you talking to me?" She retaliated sharply, "Why did you even do that? It was completely uncalled for, yet you do it to everybody... even those who actually like you!"

It wasn't like Aren to use second hand information as a point of fact, especially when there was so much ammunition to go around in her own case. But she brought it up, nevertheless.

Aren had hit below the belt with that remark, and even if her facial muscles tensed into a near-frown, Ember forced herself to remain calm, instead of reacting. It wasn't what she came over here to talk about, and the last thing she wanted, was for this to go off on a tangent. But because Aren would resort to sweeping insults to hurl at her, it made her begin to comprehend the extent of the humiliation that she had suffered.

She bit down the comment that ultimately, Aren was the one who had made the decision to run, and run naked at that. "You were looking," She said matter-of-factly, not going into any more details beyond that. It was a simple reminder that Aren couldn't completely absolve herself of responsibility in this situation and portray herself as the victim. It didn't work that way. Still…

Ember drew in a breath. "Tell you what, the one sure way of getting the rumours to stop, is if something juicier comes along for everyone to talk about," She stated calmly. "I'll do a sprint, through the corridors, nude. After duty shift tomorrow." It wasn't even a question. She had already decided to do it; match Aren for her embarassment, if it would appease her.

Ember's remark drew a lot of sudden breaths, receiving mixed results from most of the people in the table. The men of course, were burning the information to memory so they could remember to be around tomorrow. The women, were probably thinking that Ember truely was a slut if she was so willing to parade around the ship bare. Aren however, once again... wasn't sure how to interpret Ember's decision. Was the pilot trying to make amends for what she put her through, or was this yet another strange play of Ember's seductive side.

Aren looked at Ember with a stunned _expression, a very confused, stunned _expression. She had never met a woman like Ember before in her life, and now that the wrench had been thrown into the works, she couldn't think clearly for the life of her. "Why would you do that?" She asked.

Ember gave a chuckle, shrugging casually, surprisingly, as though running naked through the corridors was something she did on a daily basis before breakfast. "Why not? It doesn't bother me," She said frankly. She wasn't an exhibitionist, or a nudist for that matter, but she was unconcerned with what other people would think of her. It was a good solution; it would take the flak off Aren – who was crumbling beneath it, and transfer it to her – who sincerely didn't give a hoot about criticism, gossip or judgments. Besides, there was nothing to be ashamed, or embarrassed about going au naturel.

Even Brianna seemed to have been taken aback. Aren could feel her fists clentch tighter, this feeling of loss and confusion overtaking her in a way she hadn't experienced before. Maybe Ember was trying to do this in order to set things right, but something about it felt wrong about it, not so much for Aren's sake than it was for Ember. She stood up in her seat, placing her hands on the table. "It should." she replied sharply, "When you can't even respect yourself, you'll never be able to respect others. My problems might be over if you did that, but what about the next person? Are you going to sleep with someone just to make things right with them too? Two wrongs don't make a right."

Most of her friends were probably as surprised at this newfound strength of Aren's, as she had always come across as a very shy and timid girl, which she was. But there was a reason behind her success in the Hiigaran military, and there is a reason now of why she is a Starfleet Officer, a leader. The strength and resolve of a quiet woman.

Aren was staring into Ember's eyes with a gaze sharp enough to strip away the resolve of a criminal, almost pouring a clear image of her own emotions and faith into Ember. "Life isn't always going to be a game, and if you keep living your life like this then there won't be anybody left to forgive you, or befriend you, or even love you."

There was no denying that her words had found their mark as Ember's eyes hardened into steely glints. She drew in a slow intake of breath, anger and outrage uncoiling together inside her. Aren was crazy. How dare she? Who did she think she was to lecture her on how she should live her life? The girl could read the undaunted hint of challenge that blazed in Ember's gaze. "It's none of your business," She said tersely, feeling the urge to strike out, but she wasn't so completely uncontrollable that she couldn't keep herself from assaulting a girl who was physically weaker than she was. Ember might be bold; she wasn't a bully.

"Just because you hear things about what I do, doesn't mean you know me, or how I live my life," She told Aren coldly. She had no right, absolutely none, and she had overstepped her bounds when she made that little self-righteous tirade.

"I'll do the run tomorrow, not because I don't respect myself, but because I respect myself enough not to build my self-confidence on what other people think of me." Ember bit out. "See you at 1900 hours tomorrow, shower room." Her tone was harsh and unfeeling, and it wasn't one that invited discussion – or comment. The very next moment, Ember turned to stride out of the lounge, leaving the group with a glare that could send the less tough, cowering.

Aren was left with a stupified look, completely unable to shake herself out of the after-highschool feeling where she would be effectively meeting an uncomfortable (and usually) painful situation. Of course, it wasn't like she ever went to the sort of highschool that most humand did. One of the guys looked at Aren and started laughing, "Wow Aren, you certainly know how to attract attention. Any possibility that you might end up joining her tomorrow for the run... I mean, having you get nake..." He never knew what hit him, as Brianna took the fullness of her own frustration and knocked him so far in the back of the head he carried whiplash. "Thanks," Aren muttered softly, sighing, unsure of what to do next. She was wishing more than ever that she had never met Ember Lansky, and yet she felt guilty as hell for even thinking that.

Ensign Artim - Security Officer

with

Talara t'Serov - Valera's Aunt

"Invitation"

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

"Why did they have to move me to Alpha shift, much less to security", Artim groaned as pulled himself out of bed. It had taken alot of time to get used to waking up at 0700 after working Gamma shift in medical for so dang long and oddly that was harder then going from sickbay to security. Sleeping during the day was something he strangely enjoyed and had gotten used to and having to wake up in the morning was tricky. He also was still trying to get his head around the transfer to that particular department considering his mostly scientific background. Then again, his joining the Hazard Team was his idea and the yellow shirt was probably part of the deal. Still, Artim missed sickbay...alot.Then again, complaining about it probably wouldn't get him very far, though he'd have to talk to Corgan about changing his shift.

Still not totally awake, Artim shuffled his way towards the shower in a zombie-like fashion. As usual, the hot water served the dual purpose of cleaning his juvinile body and waking up his mind. As he cleaned himself he thought about the dream he'd been having...an odd dream. He was standing with Valera, at least it looked like Valera, somwhere...he wasn't sure where but he recalled it was beautiful. She was...proposing to him. Artim never had the chance to answer, always waking up in the middle of the dream. Still though, it made him think. In the unlikely event that she ever did ask him that question...the question as the humans called it, what would his answer be? He never really gave it much thought as he figured he'd never see her again to be asked but it was something that peaked his attention. He'd have to mention it to Brian at his next counseling session, holding a subconcious desire like this couldn't be healthy especially considering the depressed state he usually got in whenever Valera came up lately.

As Artim headed from the shower to get dressed, he heard his comm panel chirping. He figured it was just the Delta shift duty officer checking to see if he was awake, something Artim had asked him to do. As he got over to the console though he found he had an incoming communication from ch'Rian from a Talara t'Serov. Artim thought about that name for a moment before he realized why that person would be calling him. It was Valera's aunt that had raised her from age 12 when the colony she had been living on was attacked by Klingons, killing her parents. Still, why would her aunt be calling...unless...something had happened to Valera. Artim sat down in his chair and mentally prepared himself for the worst, something that seemed to come easier then it should to him, before accepting the communique.

"Is this Ensign Shivar?" the older female Rhiannsu's image who appeared on the screen said. She used his last name...only Valera and few others knew it...

"I'm generally called Artim, but that name fits as well as any. You must be Valera's aunt. I must say I wasn't expecting to hear from you.", Artim replied

"Nor did I expect to ever speak to you though Valera speaks of you highly. I must say thie is a unique oppurtunity to speak to someone so...unique."

What the heck was she getting at? If this was a call to tell him Valera was dead or something, that's not the way one would start the conversation.

"Indeed. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning call"

"I'm calling you on Valera's behalf actually. She's been given some leave and she asked me to invite you to our home for dinner this evening and perhaps to stay with us for a time. She would have called you herself, but she was called urgently to Science Directorate for consultations. You've been offered the chance to visit our planet am I right?"

Ok, now things were getting creepy. One, Valera was a master at finding five minutes to make a call, why wasn't she doing this herself. Two, how the hell did she know they were invited to the surface. Artim had only found out on his last shift. It occured to him that Valera had never mentioned what her aunt and uncle did...

"I'd...be delighted Talara, though I'd have to talk to my commander about staying longer." , he was lying of course, but he figured he'd leave himself the out if he needed it.

"Of course. 1830 then? I'll send the coordinates to your transporter room shortly."

"I'll be there. If you'll excuse me, I have duty shortly."

"Very well, we'll see you tonight. Valera will be delighted to see you again."

"I'm sure she will, Artim out."

As he closed the channel Artim couldn't help but wonder if something wasn't right here. Something defintatly wasn't right here, he didn't need to be in security to realise that. Still, the idea of meeting Valera's aunt and uncle intrigued him. Caution...that was to be the name of the game...caution.

"Replicator Philosophizing"

Lt. Tarin Iniara, Ops Chief

Ensign Aristi Ferguson, Flight Control (PCC)

******

"Why is it that replicated food never tastes quite like the real thing?" Aristi said by way of greeting.

"It's because food is created from that which was once living," Iniara replied, not missing a beat. She set her spoon down, then turned to see her former roommate crossing the mess hall towards her. "Replicators can't create life. They can only imitate it. You're late."

"No, you're early," the pilot replied, beginning to tap her order in to the replicator station. Apart from the two of them the small mess hall was completely empty, so theoretically they could be as loud as they chose. "What gives?"

"Couldn't sleep," Iniara lied, staring deep into her bowl.

"Bullshit." Aristi set her tray down and slid into the chair opposite. "I don't even need to be half Betazoid to figure that out."

Iniara frowned, trying to decide how to react. That comment had been awfully blunt, even for Aristi. But before she could say anything, Aristi spoke up again.

"So. What's on your mind?"

Iniara sighed. "Kol came to see me earlier."

"Oh." Aristi blinked a few times, unpleasant thoughts of the huge Klingon officer floating to the top of her thoughts. "Oh."

"Yeah. He says that I am no longer allowed to bring my hoverchair with me to bridge duty."

"And you're next on duty..."

"Oh-nine-hundred. Alpha Shift."

Aristi grimaced. That was less than four hours from now. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, Reece; I don't know. Either I'm going to miraculously start walking again, or I'll be dragging myself onto the bridge in a few hours." Iniara sighed again, her shoulders sagging. "I've upped my meeting with Counselor V'Lot."

"You think she can help?"

"I hope so. T'Val seems to think so. All the doctors keep saying 'psychosomatic this' and 'psychosomatic that'...Prophets, Reece; I hope so."

Iniara smacked the table then, sliding her hoverchair back. "Well, on that depressing note, I'd better get going. Never keep a Vulcan waiting, I always say."

"Yeah." Aristi smiled weakly as she watched the other woman go. "Good luck I guess."

"Thanks...I'll need it."

"What's in a Name?"

Major Corran Rex
Lieutenant Ella Grey

--------------------------------------------
Unnamed Vanguard Squadron AWACs Runabout
--------------------------------------------

Ella bit down on the corner of her mouth as Corran continued to give her some advice for piloting the shuttle. Sure, she knew everything he was telling her, she'd been offered a place on the Squadron after all, but he was trying to seriously teach her something. He also looked really hot in pilot mode.

"So over here - " he was saying. "Is your lateral thruster control. A lot of people only use these for docking maneuvers, but when you're flying in a fighter, you see everything you've got. A quick surge from the RCS can be the difference between getting a disruptor up the ass and living."

Still... "Corrran," come on, I want to fly this thing!"

"All right, all right." He said, putting his hands up. "I know you're rated as a level five pilot. But it has been awhile, and.."'

Well, frankly, the Trill just didn't want to give up the Shuttle's controls. The Galaxy was warping along towards Romulan space, but now, while they were still in Federation territory, Corran had needed to take the new AWACS runabout out for a spin. She'd arrived the day before to replace the crashed Mallorean, which was now in ruins on the Jem'Hadar planet.

She was also brand-spanking new off the Utopia assembly lines, and as she was attached to Corran's command, the Major had the privilege of naming her.

Too bad he didn't have any damn ideas on that front. Still, Ella had wanted to come with him on his test flight, so here they were.

His sentence and thoughts were abruptly ended as Ella punched a couple of keys and they were suddenly rocketing through space.

The horizontal stabilizers hadn't been engaged when Ella sent them on their sudden course correction, and Corran yelped - actually yelped - in surprise as his head connected with the panels to his left.

Ella threw an amused look over her shoulder. "You should always wear your seatbelt, you know."

"Now, hold on. I want to try something."

"Seatbelts are overrated," he muttered. "Likely to strangle you as anything else - why do you think they don't put them on the bridges of starships?"

Nonetheless, he did secure himself into the seat as Ella took the controls. And grab the dashboard.

Ella took them through a series of loops and then saw how fast she could accelerate the shuttle.

Corran, meanwhile, tried to figure out if she was a good pilot... or just lucky. Or insane. Or likely, both.

"Don't be a baby." Ella teased.

The Trill had screwed his eyes shut. For some reason, he really didn't want to watch. Maybe he wasn't as entirely over that whole space-sickness thing as he'd thought....

She laughed at that and then, after a rather complicated series of moves, dropped the shuttles speed, put it on autopilot, and turned back to her slightly wide-eyed boyfriend. "It's okay, babe, you lived through it."

"Barely." he muttered, earning him a slap on the upper arm. "That's all right. 'Least I know what I'm naming this Runabout now."

"Yeah?" he asked, fixing a narrow-eyed stare on him.

"The 'Crazy Ella'" he grinned.

"Rolling Home"

Command Master Chief Madden Jayce (Cadence Hancock), Chief of the Boat
Lieutenant Commander Brian Elessidil (Radu Prett), Team Psionic/Diplomatic Specialist
Lieutenant JG Miramon Terrik (Danar), Team Flight Specialist
Lieutenant JG Saul Bental (Raheem al-Hariri), Team Infiltration Specialist

with...
Lieutenant Teresa Florjan (Katrina Olegoski), Starfleet Intelligence Deep Cover Agent
Lieutenant JG Chase Remur (Brechyn Troyer), Team Computer Specialist

****

Bridge, The Backbroken's Reward, Deep Space

The cargo freighter Backbroken's Reward made its way through deep space, away from the grim, industrialized Vaden. Coasting along at a comfortable Warp 5, it carried the weary members of the SFI away team back to the comforts of the Federation. After several days on Vaden, they were all exhausted. None of them had gotten a normal amount of sleep while on the surface, either because of nerves or necessity.

Since leaving Vaden, Brian had mostly kept to himself, lost to his thoughts. The relief of making it out alive and seeing the rest of the team was short-lived, however. Everything seemed almost meaningless to him now, his head and heart equally focused on the fate of the children back on Vaden. No matter how many times he'd told himself there was nothing he could have done to save them, no matter how many times he heard it from Saul or Madden, nothing seemed to erase the feeling from his mind. He was physically free from Prett's prison, yet part of him was still trapped there, and he wasn't sure how long it would remain that way.

A somber mood had descended on all of them, a lot of it having to do with simply being tired, but there was a silent sense of disappointment amongst the team as well. Somehow, they had all expected more of this mission, more of themselves. Brian felt it especially acutely; being sent on an undercover mission only to get imprisoned didn't feel anything like success to him. But they were leaving now, and he knew they were all going to leave a lot behind. Slowly reverting back to his role as counselor, he somehow felt it was his duty to help everyone get over it.

"At least you can't say we were bored," he finally spoke out loud the rest, his thoughts seamlessly segueing to speech.

"You could, Commander, but I would think either that means you're very hard to amuse, or lying," an amused voice said from the ship's cockpit. Of the entire group, Miramon was probably the most cheerful, since he wasn't one to ever stay somber for long and, besides, they'd a) survived and b) were going home. That was something to celebrate, in his book.

Still, he did feel pretty tired. The whole mission had been tense, and he'd seen and heard enough of covert operations to never want to volunteer for another such mission. At least, that's what he'd said a few hours ago. Still, that probably depended entirely upon the nature of any such future missions. But he wasn't worried about that. Right now his mind was simply on getting back aboard ship and sleeping for a few days straight.

"So, anyone planning shore leave, now we've done our bit for the Federation?" he asked, his tone still playfully amused. Wouldn't hurt to stimulate some chatter.

"All I really want is a hot bath and to sleep in my own bed," the Chief said, stretching a little before she stood and moved to sit beside her friend on the bench seat along the side of the runabout. She rested a gentle hand on the Counselor's back and leaned her head against his shoulder.

[Are you okay?] she thought toward him. [Your thoughts have no words.] It was a Betazoid way of commenting on the painfulness of the memories, of letting him know she felt them too.

He didn't have to tell her how much he appreciated the contact, both telepathic and physical. Madden's presence and concern provided an emotional warmth that recently had been sorely lacking for the counselor, and he in turn leaned his head on hers without even realizing it. ~Have you ever had the feeling that you haven't done enough? That no matter how hard you try to think through a problem to find a solution you somehow come back to blaming yourself when there is no answer?~ He smiled just a little. ~That's where I am. I'll be okay... I just wish I could say the same for those children. 'Na falri riyhnaar' [:'Hope is never lost'],~ he added after a brief pause. Only when he was with Madden did Brian find himself quoting Betazoid expressions, or even using their native tongue at all. He'd been around other Betazoids in Starfleet on many occasions, but there was just something about the bond they'd formed that seemed to bring out the comforting familiarity of one's native culture, never better expressed than through its language and collective wisdom.

~Looking forward to getting back?~ he telepathically asked her, already knowing the answer. The mission had had its share of difficulty for each of them, and it was obvious to anyone, especially a friend and fellow empath, that she was tired.

~Mmhmm,~ she replied, taking comfort in his presence.

"She's still asleep," a new voice suddenly said. Saul Bental joined the group, looking weary. There was no need to say who 'she' was - each member of the covert operations team had their own opinion about Saul bringing his compromised source - a half Bolian, half Human woman - to the Backbroken's Reward, just before their departure from Vaden. They kept her sedated, and decided to let her remain in a sleepless slumber until they will safely cross the border to Federation space.

"She deserves at least that much peace," Elessidil quietly said in response. For his part, after hearing Saul's account of what had happened with the woman, Brian saw the decision to bringing her with them as the only civilized and humane option. As generally uncomfortable as he was with long-term sedation, he felt it was perhaps the best thing for her under the circumstances.

"So is Lieutenant Florjan," Chase Remur yawned as she shrugged into a chair in the back of the room. She could feel muscles in her body that she hadn't thought existed up until now. Nothing Henderson could have put her through would have prepared her for the panicked fight with the suspicious Hydran Gral'mev that had come to take Florjan. Chase considered it a blessing that they'd been prepared and that the Gral had wanted the SFI agent alive for questioning. "She may have some short term memory loss from the way Hydran heavy stun affects humans. I think. I'd need a real doctor to know anything more."

"We'll get one soon enough," Saul assured her. The image of the stunning new CMO that checked him after DS5 surfaced in his mind's eye. "Did you get anything from her before she got stunned?"

"Florjan thinks she was onto something major before that Gral'mev caught onto her," she replied, sipping pensively at the brandy she'd poured herself. Normally she wouldn't drink while they were escaping a hostile government's space, but it didn't matter. Between the de-intoxication tab in her pocket and the fact that what she really wanted to do was go to sleep, getting a little buzzed didn't seem that big of a deal. "According to what little I got out of her before she got hit with the scrambler, they're planning an invasion, using Vaden as a jumping off point. It could be as small as the Lyrans or as big as the Federation, Breen, or Rihannsu. What worries me more is that she was talking about some kind of new weapon they were working on. Very secretive. They wouldn't even let her know what type."

"It fits well with the intelligence me and Miramon gathered," Saul commented. "Did you get the chance to take a peek?"

"No," Chase shook her head. "It could honestly have been anything. The directorate the Hydrans had her working in was an R&D group... they were working on everything from ship to ship weapons to new anti-personnel devices. Mostly Biotechnological stuff that I wouldn't understand."

"The evidence that we saw on Olor 50 does not make sense to me," Saul admitted. "Everything we know about the Hydrans suggest that they prefer Biotechnology to Cybernetic technology, and it's not likely that they changed overnight. Plus..."

The memory of the tripedal silhouette in the tank made him shudder. It couldn't be a breeder. No chance in hell. Hydrans using a breeder as a war machine was as likely as devout Muslims holding a pork BBQ on top of the Kaaba.

"... plus other things that contradict some common facts," he concluded. He faced Chase again. "As for Florjan... are you sure that she is who she claims to be? Without any surprises planted by our Tripedal friends?"

"Certainly wouldn't be the first case of mistaken identity," Elessidil chimed in, thinking of his meeting the real Radu Prett. "People seem to shift identities and appearances in these parts as easily as they change clothes, which I suppose isn't surprising given the degree of lawlessness and questionable opportunism."

"I'm as sure as I'm going to be," Chase said, finishing the brandy. She frowned. Looking at Elessidil reminded her how irritated she was that the real Radu Prett had shown up on the scene. There were only three possible explanations. The first was that the man they'd taken had been a decoy. The second was that Alina Drayson had been compromised. The third was most troubling - Alina might be dead. "The Hydran's knowledge of cloning is so extensive as to be able to capture memory, instinct, and habit. They're virtually indistinguishable. Until we... Eh. I'm as sure as I'm going to be."

The Tactical chief stretched and yawned. "So now what? Are we going to rendezvous directly with the Galaxy? I hope they stayed put and waited for us."

"Doubtful..." the skinny hacker shrugged, running a hand across her scalp. The spikiness had gone out of it, and what was once quite the punk look was now a mop of messy, matted, hot pink hair. "Captain Henderson said he'd transmit a rendezvous point after we sent him a message."

"Good. Then we should..." Saul began.

She heard Saul begin talking again, but she couldn't really care less. Letting the glass slip out of her hand onto the floor, Chase drifted off into the temporary retreat of unconsciousness.

The engines hummed on, rolling the freighter back home.

****

Elsewhere...

He had left the ship as somewhat human and returned as... what? He didn't know. Didn't care. There would be time to figure it all out, but that time wasn't now. His mind lingered on the conversation he had had less than an hour ago. Taking off the sleeveless leather coat he boarded the ship. Strange. Enter only to be able to leave.

SFMC, SFI, SF and a number of organisations would not be pleased in a few days. SFI would probably be downright nervous. Served them right. Men like Baile didn't just vanish off the radar. SFI held men like Baile on a leash, controlled or at least their version of control. He had no idea what would happen when and if he returned.

The marine smiled grimly.

The days to come would be interesting indeed.

"Thinking Out Of The Box"

(Takes place two days after 'If We Don't, Then Who Will?')

Principal Characters

Flight Officer Angelienia
Holo-Indy

****

USS Galaxy
Deck X
Holosuite 4

He wasn't going to be here again tonight.

Angelienia looked around the room at the other party-goers as they danced and talked and did the things that she wanted to do with only one man, her man... and couldn't. Not until she found a way to reach him in the dark place that he'd fallen into inside himself and draw him back out. She'd made certain that the holosuite was always reserved and the program loaded, and she was always here, waiting for him... but he didn't arrive. It had been eight days now since they'd departed the Jem'Hadar planet and two since she'd spoken to Commander Corgan, and Victor hadn't come to dance with her on any of them.

Eight days... that was more times than he'd missed in all the months since the Diparthu had tried to take over the ship, in all the months that they'd danced together. She frowned and looked down at the dress she'd made, wondering if Victor realized that she didn't replicate the clothing that she wore for him here - or the clothing that she made sure he had to wear. It had been a long time since she'd sewed by hand, but the skills had come back easily to her, especially when making his costumes, since each tiny stitch was another way of telling Victor how she felt about him.

She glanced at the elegant clock on the wall of the ballroom and watched another minute tick off. He'd never been this late before, he wasn't coming... but he might. She looked around at the dancers on the dance floor as they turned and spun and knew that she'd wait the full time that the holosuite was reserved, like she always did. Just in case he did come, she would be here, waiting for him.

"Well, this place is a real drag, Victor."

Angelienia blinked. That wasn't right. The other holograms weren't supposed to use their names - just interact on the dance floor, or if Victor or she approached them. Victor seemed more comfortable with the program in a reactive mode like that, and she had just made certain that was the default setting for now. That meant someone else was here in the simulation, a woman at that - and she knew Victor. Someone that Angelienia's mind insisted she knew, but couldn't quite place....

It took only a moment to realize where the intruder was - and why her thoughts had not wanted to recognize her voice. "Aside from the fact that you're dead - and some programmer has no respect for that fact - why are you here?" Angelienia asked. This was her time with Victor, and she didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else, dead or alive - even if he wasn't here.

The holographic representation of Indigo Renkert, dressed in a hot pink ball gown-hiked up to show green and yellow striped stockings and white sneakers, blinked at the woman before her. "Who're you?"

"Flight Officer Angelienia."

"Ahhhh." Indigo said. "Her."

Angelienia supposed that wasn't too surprising. The woman had been the Mouse's best friend when she was alive, so she would see her as a threat to the Mouse and Victor... but that wasn't true any more. "Is there a reason why you're here?" she asked the hologram again. "Not in general, obviously someone programmed you to exist, but here, in our simulation?"

"I get bored." Holo-Indy said as she looked around the place. "I haven't been taken out of the box to play a whole lot lately." She looked at Angelienia and smiled. "At least you got some taste in clothes."

That was unexpected. "Thank you," the Ktarian replied with a nod. "I'd forgotten how much I liked to sew until I started making these dancing costumes."

"So, 'our' simulation, huh?" Indigo said. "Doing a different kind of tango with Victor?"

Angelienia shook her head. "No, these are the costumes for the... oh." She studied the hologram for a moment. "Why does it interest you if Victor and I are lovers?"

"That should be pretty obvious." The hologram replied, letting herself get whisked away for a moment into a waltz. She confused her partner by switching the dance into a very Indy-like tango, and then skipped back over to Angelienia. "Got it yet?"

"You're not here as a spy for the Mouse," Angelienia replied. "If she cared any longer, all she'd have to do would be to ask either of us if we were lovers. Victor never lies, and I don't have a reason to, not about him. I don't think she'd use a simulation of you even if she did send a spy; you were her friend in life, not her minion, and she'd not want to remember you that way or taint her memory of you by making you into one." She tilted her head to the side in an unconscious imitation of Victor's mannerism when thinking or studying someone. "I thin you came on your own, because you said you were lonely earlier, and that's why you want to know."

Indy nodded. "Pretty much. Although I take interest in Victor because my friend loves him."

"She does not show it very well if so," Angelienia replied. Whether the Mouse did still care for Victor or not didn't matter, not any more.

The hologram looked amused. "You can love someone and not be with them, especially if they don't return the sentiment. Should she put her life on hold and wait and see if Victor ever changes his mind?"

"If you love someone enough, then you wait for them as long as it takes."

"Speaking from personal experience there?" The hologram countered.

Angelienia suppressed a frown. "Of course; I waited, and he saw that the Mouse wasn't right for him - or she saw it, or however that worked. Patience wins the chase, and your friend didn't have enough to stay in the race." She nodded towards the hologram. "Much like you and your being out of the box."

The hologram smiled as she watched a pair of dancers glide across the dance floor. Even the hologram found Krieghoff's choice of program strange but hadn't she told him to try something less doom and gloom? "Don't waste your time trying to hurt my feelings, Angie. It's a little silly."

With a soft sigh, the Ktarian looked around the room at the other dancers and admitted to herself that the hologram was right. "True," she conceded. "It was pointless. I'm sorry for that. It just got to be a reflex for so long that I can't always seem to stop."

"Quitting something cold turkey is usually difficult." Indigo agreed.

"Even when they're no longer necessary."

"Look, Angie," The hologram addressed the woman with the name Ella had given her. "I don't have a problem with you making Victor a little less Death incarnate, the boy needs some happiness, but I'm programed to root for Ella."

"She doesn't need you to root for her," Angelienia returned quietly. "She made her choices, she's with Corran now - and she's happy. Happier than she ever was when she was trying to be with Victor. She understands Corran."

"She understands Victor." The hologram said with a puzzled expression.

"No, she never did. She kept expecting him to be like other people, to understand things that other people do - and that was doomed to fail. He isn't like other people, and he doesn't think like they do. I didn't understand that either, not at first; but I do now. He's literal, the most literal person I've ever known. There isn't any hidden meaning in what he says, no layers; unlike anyone else, even a Vulcan, what he says is what he means, nothing more, and nothing less."

"Ah, I understand." Indigo sat down on the floor, her dress making a loud rustling and whoosh sound as it puffed out around her. "No, I don't think she's gotten that yet."

She shouldn't have told the hologram that, but it seemed pointless to lie to it. "You'll tell her, of course. I don't think it will be a kindness."

The hologram shook her head. "My main function is to make her happy and she is happy now with Corran Rex. If I'm asked, I will of course say something, but until then...." She looked around and shook her head. "Victor definitely needs to update his tunes."

Indigo stood up. "Well, it's been, er, interesting talking to you."

For a moment Angelienia looked at the hologram silently, then, prompted by an impulse she didn't really understand at first, she said, "You don't have to go - you can stay if you want." Loneliness - that was the reason. She'd seen it on her own face for so long that it was easy to see on others, even holograms.

The hologram blinked, accessing her files to see if this was acceptable. Since Samantha Widdlestein hadn't programmed her not to, Indigo nodded her head. "Okay. But, honey, we have got to talk about your hair."

"The Pilot and the Mouse" (or) "The Engineer and the Slug" (depending on whose side you're on, of course)

Chief Engineer Ella Grey
PIlot Xiaz Padma

---

Most people considered Xiaz Padma a rather intimidating woman. She was tall and voluptuous, strong and feminine, and was so beautiful it sometimes hurt to look at her. She had long, thick dark hair, big brown eyes, full lips, and her spots were individually perfect -- some Trills, their spots blended together, or were faint, or imperfect in some way... not Xiaz's. She was the epitome of Trill perfection, something she'd been told her entire life.

Strangely, it only made her more insecure. Probably because she, as a joined species (and as one connected to the particular little slug she was) knew exactly how men looked at a female specimen like herself. The leering, the day-dreaming, the unintended slobbering...

Her physical appearance and knowledge of it also made it far more difficult for her to deal with emotional turmoil. As strong as the Padma symbiote was, it was Xiaz's personality that led the fight. It made her more bluster than bite, more a retreater than a charger. She didn't like *real* conflict. The distance thing, she could handle -- fighting the enemy or arguing unanimously in a bar. But when face to face with confrontation, she was so afraid of losing it completely, she often ended up completely tongue tied.

Which was largely why she had been avoiding Corran Rex like the plague or some awful extraterrestrial flu. It was why she was heading to the flight deck at this hour of the night. She needed to clear her head. Tweaking the ship helped that.

Usually. Not tonight. Because coming out of Rex's office with some object in her hand (obviously retrieving it for her lover) was Ella Grey. The one person she wanted to see *less* than Corran Rex.

Great. Just absofucking fabulous.

But it was too late to turn back. The Mouse had already seen her.

"You're Pad, right?" Ella said with a friendly smile and moved her hand to shake the other woman's. "I'm Ella."

Pad wrinkled her nose -- not at the grating artificial voice, though it was sounding more human than she expected, and not at the sugar, dandelions and butterflies smile the other woman offered, but at the woman, the being herself.

"Yeah," she said, not taking the hand but rather folding her arms over her chest, "I know."

"Right," Ella said, pulling back her hand while raising her eyebrow slightly. "Do you know where Corran might be? I have this part fixed that he needed ASAP."

"Do I look like his keeper? I thought that was your job, now," Pad said, moving around the tiny little thing (okay, so not *that* tiny, now that she was standing up close, but Padma still towered over her by a good five or six inches). "He's probably getting ready for one of your little all-night sexcapades. If I remember right, he has to verbally prep himself before he gets started. You know. 'You're a big man, you can go all the way, buddy; you're one sexy beast... oh Rexy you're so sexy,' etc." She glanced over her shoulder. "Has he showed you his pre-coital muscle dance yet? If not, it's definitely something you have to see to believe."

Ella was so surprised by this outburst that for a minute all she could do was stare at the woman stupidly. She then pursed her lips and shrugged to herself. If Pad wanted to be a complete and utter bitch, that was just fine by Ella.

"So sorry to get in your way. I know you're," Ella looked around the place with a practiced contempt learned from her mother, "busy."

Xiaz arched her eyebrow. "Oh sweetie," she said, biting back laughter, turning it from the threatening guffaw to a small chuckle, "is that the best you can come up with? That's all you have to say? A mildly punctuated 'busy'? A vague glance? Honestly. I'm actually disappointed."

"Sorry, honey." Ella said in a sweet voice as she headed back into Rex's office. "Your ex has just exhausted the hell out of me lately. You know, that pesky multiple orgasms thing." She sat down in his chair, because why the hell not, and searched for something to leave a note on. "I'll try to do better next time, even though it seems rather pointless."

"He's not my ex," Xiaz said, "not in this life time, anyway." Padma stared at the little girl rustling around Rex's desk, her fraudulent sweetness oozing off her. Like anyone on the ship, Xiaz had heard the stories of Ella Grey and Victor Kriegoff, their quid-pro-quo emotional injury match. Most people blamed the 'devil' figure of the ship (and hell, every ship had to have a romantic and attractive asshole), but a relationship like that, such as they were, were never one sided. Pad's nose wrinkled, a heavy feeling sitting somewhere in her chest. Rex deserved better than the Mouse.

"You're not supposed to be with him, you know," Padma said, and it was very much Padma speak, the edge in the Trill's voice having altered slightly. "When Rex decides to settle down in this life, it's not supposed to be with you."

Ella looked up from her search, all traces of sweetness or bemusement gone from her face. "And why is that, Pad? Just because some bitch with ruffled feathers says so? How dare you," Ella continued before she could say anything. "Who are you to condemn us before we've barely even started?"

Pad's eyes were averted, though cringed inwardly by the reference to her name -- not even her name, her familiar name, a shortening -- despite her lack of introduction. She tried to think of several ways to answer it before she carefully licked her lips and spoke softly.

"You don't love him any more than he loves you. And you both know that. It's written across your faces. Maybe it takes 500 years to see it, but... you're a woman, Ella. A smart, perceptive one at that. Look at him once in a while -- actually look at him, in his eyes. This thing you have right now? It might fun. It might be a sexual relief. It might be a wonderful distraction. But it's not real -- it's not *love*."

Ella kept her tone light even though her smile was without any real warmth. "I don't know. Seems like a good description of love to me."

"Then you are even more of a child than I thought," Padma replied. "And he's not who you really want anyway. You should go back to pining for your Security officer. You two were made for each other."

"And you're not worth my time." The engineer replied in as bored a tone as she could manage. She was going to have to go somewhere to cool off for a few minutes before she went back to Engineering, otherwise any telepath within a foot from her was going to be able to read her without any effort at all.

She finished the brief note to Rex, signed it 'Love, E', and slapped a computer PADD on top of it as a paperweight.

"Has he ever said it, Ella?" Padma asked, turning so she could watch the little engineer who had stormed past her, out of the office, trying not to be affected by the encounter. "Ever actually said those three little words? Because I kind of doubt it. He enjoys you. Even has a deep affection for you. But ironically, being lovers doesn't require love."

Ella only had eyes for the exit. "Go to hell, Pad."

"Funny," Pamda murmured, watching the doors as they closed behind Ella Grey. "I thought I was already there."

“Suspicion”

Lieutenant Junior Grade Nara Roswell
Engineering Officer

Ensign Zev Raynor
‘Intelligence’ Officer

728... 729... 730...

Keep going one more...

731... 732... 733...

Raynor was doing push ups in the gym, for his daily workout routine... urging his body to go 'just one more' of course that had started at about 500 or so... for some reason he kept finding the strength to go on... counting in his head so as not to attract too much attention to the ridiculously high number he achieved...

He stopped at 741... exhausted... he got up, looked around for his water and towel...

Nara was punching on a punching bag. As well we kicking it. Elbowing it. Kneeing it. Every conceivable way to hit something, she did it. She hadn't been in the gym much lately, and she had aggression to get out.

A she paused to catch a breath; she looked over and saw someone familiar as she walked over. "So. You're being quiet for once."

"Well the plan was to come in here naked... and make noise that way but I decide I didn't want ladies looking the merchandise which is not for sale" Raynor said cheerfully.

She chuckled as she knelt to look at him, her wrapped hands resting on her knees. "I'd ask to spar now, but I wore myself out on that bag."

"I hope you apologized to the bag afterwards... who knows what will be declared sentient life these days..." Raynor joked.

She smirked, "Well if you're on the list." She winked to show the obvious joke.

"So hows life?" Raynor asked changing the tone of the conversation to something a little more serious.

Nara leans back, crossing her legs, unwrapping her hands, deciding to be done for the day.

"Saia has a Jem'Hadar as a friend. I thought Sam was bad, but..." Sighs shaking her head realizing he was being polite and she wasn't sure why she was mentioning all that.

Raynor sat there for the thought to click... he personally didn't have any problems with the Jem'Hadar... but then again he wasn't most people. "Left over fears from the Dominion War huh?" Raynor said with understanding.

"Look if I can help in some way... I'd be-" Raynor stopped for a second looking for the most honest answer he could give... after about a minute he picked phrase.

"Not happy, but not annoyed... somewhere inbetween willingly and not indifferent." He couldn't quite pin the emotion he had about it... he wouldn't mind helping... but he wasn't sure how to phrase that right.

She decided not to open up any cans about the war.

But she didn't understand what he was saying, "You were breathing during your set right?"

"Yea... I guess I'm saying that I personally don't have any grudges against the Jem'Hadar, but if it would put your mind at ease I'm willing to help..." Raynor rephrased.

"How?" She simply asked. She was interested.

She wondered if he could somehow get Saia distracted and forget the Jem'Hadar.

"I don't know... baby sit... keep an eye on them... play games... I don't have probelms with kids... how old is Saia anyways?" Raynor asked, realising he never met the short terrorist before.

"She's only 10 and hanging around the infamous teenage Samantha and now a... Jem'Hadar." The words spilled from her lips in such hatred, a few young people in the gym who heard gave her a disapproving look. She ignored them.

They didn't understand the dangers of the Universe yet.

Raynor understood the hatred but at the same time did not take part in it...

"So whats your plan of attack? The cliche, you can't talk to this Jem'Hadar anymore, which always ends in you trying to explain the bad influence of a pansy child, and the little one stomping off... or you going to try and teach your prejudice to the next generation..."

Raynor thought for a moment... calling up the list of bad TV sit-coms with bad solutions and listing them... for the next ten minutes finishing with... "...and end up writing a Harliquin Romance novel which some how works in a gold fish into the love making going on..."

She blinked at him, "Ok. Um, not sure what to say to that. But yes, keep an eye on them. She's usually in the arboretum."

"Sorry," Raynor apologized. "Being forced to watch the first 50 seasons of the Simpsons straight will do that to a person..."

After blinking and shaking his head at the same time, he got back to the topic at hand, "I take it you want me to go now then?"

She shrugged, "No. Don't want to intrude on anything you had going on. Maybe you intend to watch more of this Simpsons. Wouldn't want you to miss that."

"Nah that was a while ago... and as a general rule I don't make plans for myself that can't be changed... besides... I can't remain indifferent to a problem that anyone I know is experiencing on this ship," Raynor said. "I guess that’s my weak point..."

Nara smiled at him and nodded, "Thank you."

"No probelm..." Raynor said. He didn't get the concept of thanking people for doing the right thing. But then again... he didn't mind being thanked either... so maybe it was there he would find the answer.

Raynor knew not of the hell that awaited him...

“Kids”

Ensign Zev Raynor
‘Intelligence’ Officer

Saia (APC)

Re'Kor (NPC)

USS Galaxy's Arboretum...

"Stop moving!" Saia scolded her friend. "I'll never get this right if you keep turning your head.

Re'Kor frowned. "Sitting still is difficult!" He liked his new friend, despite her caretaker's obvious hatred for him. Also despite this is the fifth time he had to sit still while she tried endless times to draw his Jem'Hadar face in a way she felt proud of.

"God knows I can't do it for more than five minutes..." Raynor said, with his arm leaning against a wall regarding the work from behind Saia.

The young Trill spun around with eyes wide in surprise, "Who are you? How long have you been there?" She looked at Re'Kor. The boy seemed unsurprised as he saw the man there before; being why he turned his head. He simply laughed, "You get so caught up in the drawing!"

"Zev, or if you prefer Ensign Raynor... and I've been here sometime between the last time you checked behind you and now..." Raynor responded to the mini interrogation. "That's quite the interesting angle you've got there,” he said looking at the work so far. "You've actually managed to capture your model in a good light. By the way what would your names be?"

She turned back around to give him an accusing eye. "You're a stranger."

On the other hand... Re'Kor was taught this as well. As most children are. Still, it was safe and he knew it. Saia was overly cautious, which he could understand after the stories she's told him. "I am Re'Kor."

Raynor regarded Saia for a second before saying. "You might remember me from the comm incident a few months back when I insulted an Admiral? If you really feel that uneasy about me."

He then turned to Re'Kor. "Nice to meet you Re'Core, no wait sorry... Re'Kor... I'm sorry about that, I have a little trouble with name pronunciation sometimes " Raynor said holding out his hand, his face was quite open and friendly. "You enjoying the Galaxy so far, Re'Kor?"

With that, she let her guard down and even smiled, "That was you? It seemed like something Sam would do, but she said it wasn't."

"I don't think I've met this Sam, though I heard she's a handful from other adults... most of them probably too stupid to realise the gold mine of resourcefulness when its staring them right in the face and telling them how stupid they really are," Raynor said. And to him it was true... he was only six when he was outmanoeuvring Federation patrols on the Ronin, but that wasn't important right now.

She tilted her head, "You sure you never met her? She would say something like that. I think she DID say something like that." She looked at Re'Kor questioningly.

He smiled and shrugged, "From what you tell me, I guess."

"Let's just say I've been in a similar spots when I was growing up" Raynor said, though those were generally life or death decisions, still similar spots. "You kind of learn to recognise the difference between what people say, and what's the truth..."

She nodded, glancing at Re'Kor again before looking back at Zev, "Some people are just wrong."

"It's a flaw with free will," Raynor said getting a little philosophical. "Your free to make mistakes."

"Yay!" She laughed. Re'Kor just situated himself, now no longer trapped by an artist's whims.

"So what are you guys up to for the rest of the day..." Raynor asked. Re'Kor spoke up this time, "Being forced to sit for long periods of time while SHE scribbles on that PADD." He gave a sweet smile at the evil look Saia gave him, "Of which I volunteer!" Then as Saia turned he mouthed, "Save me!"

Saia answered, "Well as he said, I like to draw, but I usually try to stay here or at Sam's or Jerik's. Nara gets a little worried if I wander around."

"Nara Roswell?" Raynor asked. "My new sparing partner?"

She nodded, "Sparring? You mean fighting?"

"Well more like play fighting, but yea..." Raynor said, then asked "Has our guest been given a tour of the ship?" This would be his first attempt to get Re'Kor out of the chair.

Re'Kor spoke for himself, "I think we all have."

He turned to Re'kor, "How's the setup in the bay and such? I haven't been down there yet, and I was thinking of poking my head around..."

Re'Kor looked confused, "What bay? I know there's cargo bays and shuttle bays."

"I was under the impression that a cargo bay had been set up to help accommodate your numbers..." Raynor said not sure if he had somehow switched universes, again.

"Oh." The boy nodded, "It is comfortable under the circumstances if that is what you are meaning."

"Crew giving you much trouble?" Raynor asked, sensing an irony in his own question.

He shrugged, "I pretty much try to stay out of the way."

Turning to Saia, he asked "And how is Nara dealing with this idea, as I'm pretty sure the 99.9% of Dominion War Vets tend to hold a grudge."

Saia thought a moment, "I thought she fought the Sakarian war?" After a moment, she shrugged figuring it was the same thing, but she looked back a bit angry, "Like a stupid adult!" She then looked sheepish and whispered, "Don't tell her I said that!"

"Don't worry... its not like I'll here to pass along insults like some message boy..." Raynor said. "Being only seven, it's doubtful she would ever take me seriously."

She looked at him oddly, "Seven? Years old?"

"This body is only seven birthdays old... I was born on Feburary 29th... so I miss a lot..." Raynor smiled. "I've seen a lot more than seven years though..." he added.

Re'Kor and Saia both just gave him blank stares.

"Earth doesn't have an exact 365 day year... its actually 365.2444... so some genius long ago arbitarily decided to add one day to the calander for every four years... thus creating a 29th day in Feberuary..." Raynor explained. "Thus people on born on the 29th have to say their number of birthdays they have and then their real age... me for example, I only had 7 birthdays, but I'm actually 31 years old."

The two children then looked at each other, neither caring at all about this. Saia stood, "But you're not on Earth."

"No, but I'm a Terran and we kinda like our weird and wonky calander... besides... we tend to celebrate a lot of Earth holidays on this ship anyways..." Raynor said.

Saia nodded, "Sam does seem to enjoy those holidays."

"I hungry... how about you guys..." Raynor asked.

Re'Kor enthusiastically nodded and Saia smiled at Zev, "Sure."

"Alright to Ten Forward for PIE!" Raynor said, putting on one of his deeper voices on the word 'pie'.

Re'Kor jumped up and they looked at Zev expectantly.

"It wasn't THAT loud..." Raynor said. "And yes I have the unusual curse of being to play around with my voice and liking to do it every once and a while... its not like thats a cr-" Raynor stopped mid sentence... "Lets just go eat..." he turned to the door.

As they followed him, Saia whispered to Re'Kor, "He's funny, but he seems safe." Re'Kor nodded and laughed. He was just glad the strange man didn't hate him.

Raynor began to sing this with one his better voices…

"Are you gonna take me home tonight Ah down beside that red firelight Are you gonna let it all hang out Fat bottomed girls You make the rockin’ world go round

Hey I was just a skinny lad Never knew no good from bad But I knew life before I left my nursery Left alone with big fat fanny She was such a naughty nanny Heap big woman you made a bad boy out of me Hey hey!"

Both kids stopped wondering what was going on now.

Zev turned... "What? Can't I sing along the way?"

Saia gave him a strange look. Re'Kor rubbed his ears, "Not unless you can make it sound better."

"That's the style in which its supposed to be sung, but you prefer I could always go with Carmina Burana" Raynor said.

Re'Kor shook his head, "Sing about the big heap." Saia giggled.

"Thank you" emerged out of Raynor's lips, as he then continued...

"I’ve been singing with my band Across the wire across the land I seen ev’ry blue eyed floozy on the way But their beauty and their style Went kind of smooth after a while Take me to them dirty ladies every time"

Then the kids started running so they'd get there faster.

Raynor took up chase continuing with his song, almost laughing in spite of himself.

By the time they got through the ten forward doors, the kids were laughing. Raynor finished singing the last verse soon after entering behind them and then decided to stop singing as he ordered an apple pie with vanilla ice cream on top. They both jumped up on stools and stared at his dessert, jabbing fingers in it. Hey they were kids and around an adult who didn't seem to care WHAT they did.

Raynor withdrew the dish from their reach in a childish manner... "Hey hey HEY! This is mine; if you want one, go ahead the replicator is over there..."

Saia bounded off first, then pulled on Re'Kor's arm, "Come on!" At the replicator, Saia excitedly told it, "Two banana splits! Double sized!" The replicator said something back, but in the hum of the busy room, she could barely make it out. She looked at Re'Kor who was snickering and told her, "Try just normal sizes." So after they did that, they came back to the stools.

Raynor was already enjoying his apple pie... deep in thought, wondering why Nara was so worried about Re'Kor. He seemed harmless enough... He took another bite out of his pie. "You ever tried that before?" Raynor asked Re'Kor.

With a mouthful, he nodded, "Fay gafe uf fum in fool."

Raynor shooked his head for a second slightly... "What?"

After swallowing he said, "They gave us some in school."

"Ah... so you like I take it..." Raynor said. "Maybe I should recommend it to Ender... god knows that kid needs to widen his palette."

He nodded and went back to concentrating on his eating.

'Yup...' Raynor thought... 'Just another kid.'

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