"Vibes"

Ensign Zev Raynor
Terran Telepath
"Intelligence" Officer

You wander the corriodiors of a ship long enough, you begin to pick up vibes. Vibes from the ship. Vibes from outer space. Vibes from the crew. You talk to enough people, witness enough conversations, listen to sounds of their steps, of their breathe, of their voice and you can tell the mood of the ship. Of the crew.

The vibe said tension. The kind you could cut with a butter knife. You could find yourself lost in an ocean of it. It's heat swallowing you whole and slowly building pressure until it errupts in a storm of rage. Well it actually hadn't errupted yet, but it would unless someone did SOMETHING to ease the pressure.

Raynor of course first waited for command to come up with something. But all they had done was seperate the crew and the Jem'hadar. That only slowed the pace, it did not stop it, or release any of the pressure, so of course they thought of the probelm as dealt with or dealt with enough... And now with the delay in transfering them over to Deep Space 5 or rather... as some would put it "getting rid of" the Jem'Hadar, on top of crossing the border into Romulan space... the pressure was just going to keep building and building. And unless something was done...

But why should he be the one to do it? It wasn't his responisblity... it's not like his efforts were ever recognised for what they were... and yet he knew he would have to something because no one esle would. Because the evil to fear most was the indifference of good men.

And while deep in this train of thought... Raynor figured out a way to attack this probelm on two fronts... thus diminishing the effect of the tension. He knew that would be those few individual crewmen he would not be able to reach with his plan, and that he needed help to lanuch the second front... but the first 'front' he could do alone.

And after many long months of putting it off... Raynor finally sat down, and tried to figure out how to structure his presentation... fiddling around with some of the seemingly trivial aspects of the show, but at the same time knowing that he had to sell it to as wide an audience as possible and that would mean figuring out... he had to do a survey without doing it in an obvious form so as to give away what was to come...

"Here's the Cheese - Where's the Trap?"

Captain Cassius Henderson,
Commanding Officer

Lieutenant Ella Grey,
Acting Chief Engineer

Lieutenant Tarin Iniara,
Chief Operations Manager

****

Main Engineering,
Deck 36,
USS Galaxy

Cassius Henderson had not stopped by Main Engineering since just after Captain M'Kantu had departed for his competency hearing. Being of a more tactically oriented of a commanding officer, he relied on his Chief Engineer and Chief Operations Manager to keep him up to date on the state of the ship's systems. Usually, that worked just fine, and he didn't have to try to understand technology with inner workings that were, honestly, beyond him. Even when he'd worked for SFI, he'd left all of the gadgetry and technical aspects of their missions to Art Blackwelder.

Unfortunately, that policy might now be about to backfire in a very big way. Cassius knew that he had to act quickly to prevent it, before they were in orbit over the capital world of a galactic superpower not known for its stability.

Stepping into Main Engineering, he took note of his surroundings. The chaotic hustle and bustle of the ship's heart. Behind him, he could hear Tarin Iniara slowing down to walk behind him. Sighting Ella Grey standing at a central table talking to several engineers, he walked over to get her attention, Tarin in tow.

Ella saw Cass and nodded at him before finishing what she had to say to the other officers quickly so that she could join him. It was strange to think of him as the captain now, she had had tea with this man and even a chocolate syrup fight ages ago, but Ella was capable of being on her mostly best behavior. "Captain."

It was strange for Cassius, addressing her as the Chief Engineer. When he'd first come onboard, he'd had quite a crush on the small, silent engineer. From his position as the master of the ship, those days seemed so distant. In fact, he didn't see Ella Grey that often, and now that he did, he was reminded how cute she was. Corran was a lucky man.

But speak to her as Chief Engineer he did. "Good morning, Ella. Iniara and I need to talk to you in your office."

"Of course, Captain." The engineer replied.

They walked the short distance into the empty shell of O'Shea's office in silence. Before the events that had brought them to this meeting, the room had been dominated by hundreds of PADDs. Now it was eerily empty, the contents having been carted off by Lieutenant Dobryin's intelligence analysis team.

They took up positions around the desk, the only sign that the room had been occupied. "Chief, I'm sure its occurred to you the kind of damage that could be done by an entrenched and well liked Chief Engineer?" Cassius asked her.

"Yes." Ella said.

"I need you and Iniara to develop a schedule for a full systems diagnostic," he said, "I haven't a clue what that entails, only that it takes over a week. If you can, start with the simple, so that we cover every system on a basic level, and then move to the more complicated."

"No problem. We've already started looking at some of the smaller systems." The engineer replied and then looked at the Ops officer. "How do you want to go about this?"

"O'Shea was a talented engineer," Iniara stated, thoughtfully. "If she sabotaged the ship, she probably disguised it with other things. We'll have to wade through whatever distractions she placed to find the real threats."

"That's a very real possibility. According to Cora, O'Shea was in a position to access every major ship's system and most of the minor ones in the last month before we arrived at Tru'Haran," Cassius added, carefully schooling his features to avoid a scowl. If Iniara was right, then it would take a miracle to uncover everything before the Galaxy arrived in orbit of ch'Rihan. "We have a lot of ground to cover."

"Yes," Ella agreed. "Tarin, if your people did a cursory scan of each system, I could devote my department to a more in depth follow through.

"Yes," Ella agreed. "Tarin, if your people did a cursory scan of each system, I could devote my department to a more in depth follow through. As it is, we've been following our regular maintenance schedule sand trying to keep an eye out for any... creative malfunctions. We've turned up minor things here and there - timers on the grav controls in the whales tanks and other minor nuisances. But I can't believe that's all there is."

"Then we're in agreement," Cassius stated, wrapping up the discussion. Normally he would have been happy to consider all the options, but with the Galaxy due to arrive on ch'Rihan in a few days, the proverbial clock was already ticking. "I'll want reports at the end of every shift. Tarin, Ella, if either of you need more people, let me know and I'll get security on it."

"That'd probably be for the best, if Operations is just going to be doing a cursory scan," the Betazoid/Bajoran woman replied. "If you send me the Operations minors first, Captain, they should be able to spot the obvious things." Turning to Ella, she continued, "When they do, we'll forward it on to Engineering so that you can look for the deeper problems."

"Will do." Ella replied in her vocoder-accented voice.

"Then let's be about it," Cassius said, with a certain finality. "Thank you both. I'll leave you to work out the details. If you need anything, you know where I'll be."

"The Holding Pattern"

Lt. (JG) 8-ball Hunter, the Girl Who Never Learns

8-ball couldn't believe it. She wouldn't believe. She sure as hell wouldn't trust it. She walked around the ship in circles, or as circular as you could get on the Galaxy without doing anything too strenous like crawling through Jeffries Tubes. She snooped. She investigated. It was true. She couldn't believe it.

NOTHING was happening on the ship.

Oh, there were some things, 8-ball decided. There were a bunch of Jem Hadars running around, and that was making everyone a might cranky. 8-ball herself didn't seem to have too much problem with them, as they mostly ignored her and she mostly ignored them---the only exception to this was when she ran into a few of the orphan children who reminded her far too much of children she had already met and let down. She avoided the children like the plague, any child, really on this ship. 8-ball had discovered all too well that she really wasn't good at dealing with them.

So some tension. . .some anger. . some unfound prejudices. . .but beyond that. . .

Not a whole helluva lot.

There were no possessions. No takeovers. No random memory swapping. No holodecks gone crazy, no admirals running around like psychotic bulldogs. NOTHING seemed to be happening at all.

The Galaxy was in a holding pattern. . .and it was scary as fuck.

Once she allowed herself to believe that really absolutely nothing was going on, 8-ball was actually relieved. Maybe they'd have a normal few weeks. Maybe everyone could stop going crazy for awhile. Maybe things would be happy and birds would sing and dandelions would dance. Even though there were no birds and no dandelions and certain no dancing dandelions. The point was, everyone would live happily ever after.

8-ball let herself believe this notion for about .0333 seconds and then laughed.

No, all this holding pattern meant was that big stuff was gonna happen. The shit was going to hit the fan; it just wasn't quite there yet. The longer the wait, the more the world was likely the collapse on itself. The eye of the storm, and all that. This was not a good silence.

Still. . .even though she knew that. . .and even though she knew she'd miss this quiet period once it was gone. . .8-ball couldn't help but being ever so slightly bored out of her skull. NOTHING was happening. It was so freakishly dull. Asking for excitement on this ship was wrong and dangerous and atrociously psychotic and yet. . .8-ball did it anyway. Because she was bored. Because she was discontent. Because she never freaking learned.

Maybe she should start a mud wrestling tournament, or something.

"Distorted Perception"

Ensign Keldan
Operations Officer, USS-Galaxy

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer, USS-Galaxy

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

Keldan sat up, patiently waiting on the edge of the biobed for the attention of one of the medical staff. He sure wasn't going to fall asleep again. The dream still played far too clearly in his mind. It would be a while before the gruesome images could be silenced.

The biobed monitors stopped their regular beats and humming as soon as he left his reclining position. He cursed inwardly at his blindness. His sight had only improved slightly in the weeks since the away mission to the Jem'Hadar planet. At first he had only been able to make out large patches of darkness passing in front of him. Now his range of vision seemed to extend a meter or so in front of him, but otherwise, it was just blurs of colour. Doctors and nurses passed in front of him, and there was the constant din of medical chatter.

While he was still able to operate an Ops console, he wasn't much good for anything else until his vision was fully restored. Fortunately, his duty shift was late-night, but that could change at any moment. He'd busied himself reading the official logs of the Galaxy to get up to speed on recent events, allowing himself to fit in more quickly and efficiently. But a good number of the accounts read like something out of a Klingon sadomasochism handbook. Encounters with the Breen. The Hydrans, The Romul...er... Rihannsu, he corrected himself again. And of course, there were the recent events on Deep Space 5 with some kind of life form called the Diphtharu. It was a wonder that the entire crew hadn't devolved into stark raving lunatics.

He had stopped worrying whether the damage to his eyes was permanent. In most likelihood it wasn't since he was making progress. If it was beyond repair, he probably wouldn't be able to see anything at all. Damn retinal burns. Fixable, he thought, though it would take time before his vision was completely back to normal. Still, he was uncomfortable sitting there just waiting. But since he didn't have the expertise to fix his own eyes, he'd have to be patient. More patient. No wonder the humans considered it a virtue.

Accepting a PADD from her staff nurse, Kimberly quickly scanned it as she walked over to the young Ensign, "Ensign, Keldan," she greeted him as she stopped before him, "Hello, so how are you feeling today?" she asked, already having a good idea, but they how someone explained their complaints was occasionally enlightening.

"Just wishing this recovery process could move a bit more quickly." Not wanting to insult her, he added, "Sorry, I know you're doing your best, Doctor. I guess I'll just have to be a little more patient. I guess this is the price you pay for a little excitement that gets out of control."

Nodding as he spoke Kimberly opened her Tricorder and ran a scan of his head as she spoke, "I think we've all had our fair share of excitement recently," she said a little absently as she began to work, "life recently has certainly not been without it's highlights," she added, a slight twist to her voice, indicating the other side of the ward, "Na'Toha turned out to be okay though," looking at the Jem'Hadar physician who was deep in conversation with the EMH.

"So was Kor'A'Thus," he replied. "Extremely... efficient... at dealing with security threats to a satisfactory resolution." Painfully efficient, Keldan thought, trying to imagine the Jem'Hadar engineer who'd attacked Ensign Eytan and himself, hanging limply with his head and neck stuffed into a wall. "It was a cool reminder at how swiftly and efficiently they were able to achieve their military objectives back during the Dominion War."

"Efficiency, thoroughness and persistence, says it all really about your typical Jem'Hadar doesn't it," Kimberly offered thoughtfully, adjusting her tricorder slightly she rechecked a reading and activated the biobed systems.

Kel weighed over in his mind whether to broach one certain topic of discussion with the doctor. However, it seemed logical she might be in a position to shed some light on recent events on board the Galaxy.

"Doctor, if you don't mind, could you answer a question for me? I know that you're bound not to reveal personal medical information about other members of the crew, but my question is a bit more general in nature. What can you tell me about Dhanishta Eshe?"

Thinking a moment, "Well, nothing you probably don't already know I'm afraid, aside from a few meetings here, which I can't discuss," she added with a slightly serious tone, "I haven't really gotten to know her that well yet. Why do you ask?"

"She and I were acquai... Well, no, friends would be a more appropriate term, I suppose. Back when we are at the Academy. It was a rather traumatic period and she's not the person I remember from then."

"We all change Ensign," Kimberly offered sagely, "All I can say for now I'm afraid is that you're probably better heading up to the canteen, or down to engineering to ask her friends about her, or check the ships records you have access to," she offered helpfully, "I'm sure you understand why I can't discuss a patient," she apologised.

"Of course, Doctor." Well, he couldn't fault her professionalism, despite the fact that it was putting up another obstacle. However, it did make it rather plain that Eshe's and the doctor's relationship at the present point in time was simply that... professional. Since he remembered quite distinctly Dhanishta's fondness for doctors, counsellors and therapists (or lack thereof), that was apparently one thing that hadn't changed. Still, not gaining any insight was annoying, since he'd already finished checking all the public record information and official logs made by Dhanishta over a week ago.

"Would you mind laying back please," she asked as she picked up a retinal scanner, "I'd like to check your eyes. If I may ask though, what can 'you' tell me about the Lieutenant, as I said I'm still getting to know her, I'd appreciate any insights you might have?"

Keldan lay himself back on the biobed, opening his eyes wide for the doctor's retinal scanner.

"Well, I can really only tell you about the Dhanishta Eshe that I knew, and that was back before the Dominion War. When I first met her, I was working on a freighter and she was off to Qo'Nos or Trill or somewhere, I don't remember. What I do remember was how vibrant a person she was. Outspoken. Not afraid of anything." He stopped, trying to figure out what the doctor might truly valuable. "She was never one to talk openly about personal matters." He refrained from adding, 'like most women.' "Getting her to talk about her emotions was always difficult. Probably her Vulcan training. Or maybe her Klingon. Who knows?"

~ Vibrant, outspoken, hmmm, ~ "You wouldn't happen to know what she likes to eat would you?"

Keldan snorted slightly. "I don't know what she's been eating lately, but I'd wager it isn't enough. She's practically a walking corpse, at least compared to the last time I saw her. Since I suppose nutritional welfare falls under your area of expertise, it would seem prudent to mention it. However, Dhanishta never was particularly fond of going to see doctors," or anyone else she didn't want to see for that matter, he added to himself, "so good luck in getting her in to see you."

"I'm beginning to get that impression only too well," Kimberly agreed, "please, continue, tell me more if you would, I'd like to get to know her, but as you've said she's a little reluctant to see me, perhaps if I can learn a bit more about her I might help," setting aside the retinal scanner she picked up another instrument, this time a neural scanner and aimed it at his left eye, "this won't hurt, but please try not to blink, it'll interrupt the scan of your visual cortex."

"Well, she's half-Trill, half-Betazoid; grown up on Vulcan, Trill and Qo'Nos, of all places. Parents were famous scientists and moved the family all over the place. Of course, that's all in her file, which I'm sure you've already read. As far as knowing her... well, I thought I knew her, but after bumping into her onboard the Galaxy, I'm not so sure. I know what you mean when you say people change... but this is like there's an entirely different person inside. I don't know, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself here." Actually, he was pretty sure he was getting ahead of himself. It was possible all this weirdness with Dhanishta could just be in his imagination... but he didn't think so.

~ She's quite a character alright ~ Kimberly mused to herself as she gently ran the scanner over his eye, recalling the few encounters she had so far with Dhanishta, "She's certainly been through a lot recently though, I mean since I've been aboard alone the whole crew has had Dithparu and Jem'Hadar to deal with, neither were easy I imagine on most people." moving the scanner over to his right eye she repeated the scan, "does she like sport at all?"

"Very much so. She was always up to trying... well, trying anything really. We kept each other... on our toes. Keeping up with her could be... a *challenge* sometimes. I can't say I was ever much good at that 'fencing' thing she introduced me to. But then, riding on the back of a saddled t'stayan was probably about as much fun for her as being poked in the eye."

Setting aside the cortex scanner Kimberly checked the results against her predictions for his recovery, ~ Oh why didn't the Retinax work! ~ she griped to herself, satisfied though that his eyes were recovering, even though not as fast as she would like she pulled something she'd had replicated from out of her pocket, "I just get the impression that if I could get together with her outside of sickbay, doing something she at least has an interest in perhaps we might be able to actually chat. I don't want to pester her too much right now, but I would like to keep an eye on her so to speak, if I have to make things official, it's not going to look good on her record," she said a little quieter, "anyway, try these on if you would," offering him a small case she opened it to reveal a pair of spectacles.

Keldan scowled at the case and spectacles, but didn't hesitate in taking them from her. He carefully unfolded them and lifted them to his face. His scowl changed to surprise, however, as he realized the archaic device actually managed to extend his vision a couple of additional meters. He squinted at the far wall of sickbay and then refocused on the good doctor's features. "Well that wasn't exactly the improvement I was hoping for, but I'll take what I can get."

"They're strictly for the short term only, and I'd ask you only use them when you really need to on duty, you eyes need to adapt on their own, but now your eyes have improved to this point you can have these, though you'll likely need to bring them back next week for adjustment," she cautioned him, "but if you find you're getting headaches wearing them come back immediately."

"Sounds good to me. Thanks, Doctor." Getting up from the biobed and heading toward the exit, he turned back for one final comment. "And Doctor... I noticed in your public file a hobby listed as riding something called a 'Harley Davidson'. I tried to find a listing in the Federation exobiology database but was unsuccessful. Perhaps at some point you could introduce me to this experience?"

Chuckling as she put her instruments away, "Instead of checking exobiology, look it up in Terran automotive history," she suggested, pleased someone had noticed one of the notes she had listed on the BBS, "it's an old Earth vehicle," she informed him, "once you've had a look, and if you're still interested let me know, I have a holodeck program you can try if you like, though we'll have to wait 'til your eyes are much better first."

"Intriguing. Sounds like another reason to be impatient about my sight returning to normal. See you around, Doctor."

"Revelations"

by
Ensign T'Rei

Personal Quarters

Glancing around her quarters, she felt at peace for the first time since her arrival on the Galaxy. Her roommate and her had gotten along, which was surprising, but the woman kept to her and did not conversant much at all. Amanda liked to be alone, liked things neat and organized, and was quite. Perfect in T’Rei’s opinion.

Replicating a cup of tea, she found it curious that her message box on the computer was blinking. Who would be sending her any type of document? Training had been secured for the next day, all the usual appointments had been made or completed, and her parental figures were off on holiday enjoying some much needed relaxation.

Curiosity got the best of her as she walked over and sat down at the counsel. Upon opening the document she received, her mind set about Vulcans instantly changed.

Star date:

Memo

To: Satark

From: T’Leone

Subject: Experiment 543 AKA Savannah Boost

We have made the final report findings concerning our twenty year emotional experiment with subject 543 and find that the results are outstanding. The subject has been totally assimilated into the Vulcan culture and has shown no signs of disintegration. The subjects mind is extremely disciplined, and in matters relating to mind melding and pinch execution, the subject shows vast improvement from year 10 through year 20.

The subjects emotions are non existent, and do not appear to have influence over her logic analysis of every day decisions and reactions to life around her.

It is of the opinion that the experiment is under continued observance upon her posting at the USS Galaxy through monthly reports from an inside source. It is also of the opinion that the initial stage of this experiment has been successful, and the next stage should be implemented right away.

Detailed report to follow

T’Leone

*End Transmit ion-Sender Unknown*

Silence filled the quarters as T’Rei sat in her seat, flabbergasted at the document in front of her own the screen. It was unreal to her that all the years spent in the Vulcan discipline were for a damned research project. Closing her eyes, she shook her head slowly back and forth. Leaning forward, she rested her head on the console for a few minutes. It was unreal…..her identity was a fake, a joke, and most illogical. Raising her head, she read the document at least ten times, each time attempting to grasp her identity each time she read it. Was this what she needed? Was this document proof enough to start acting emotional? And if she acted emotional, was she doing it the right way? What was the right way? Sighing, she stood with a padd in hand as she transferred the data onto the mobile unit. Shoving her anger, disappointment, and upset deep within her, she stood up, left her quarters, and made her way to her first counseling appointment.

*Backposted with permission* - Slight Content Advisory

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

"Starfleet's Grim Reaper to the Rescue"

Principal Characters

2nd Lieutenant Branwen London - Furies Counselor
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff - Security Officer
Lieutenant Kimberly Burton - Chief Medical Officer

****

Planetside Hydran Research Facility
Laboratory 6

Her mind was shutting down. This could not be happening. These creatures were not talking to her. In fact she couldn't even understand them, it was some kind of foreign language. Bran was still paralyzed only her eyelids were able to move a little so she could shield her eyes against the bright glare of the surgical lamps.

****

Planetside Hydran Research Facility
Corridor

Victor would have preferred to have done this alone, just his skills against the enemy's, but that wasn't the plan he'd been given. He had others assigned to him, troops and support personnel to make certain that all the prisoners were returned. He'd considered telling Captain Henderson that he didn't need them, that they'd just be in the way, but Henderson hadn't waited to hear that before moving on with the assignments. With the loss of the Captain's attention, the desire to say something had just fallen away into the nothingness inside him. He'd do what he was ordered to. He always did, even if the people issuing the orders didn't understand that.

There were doors ahead, and a branching corridor to the left. A tricorder check showed the majority of the prisoners were in one area down the left side of the branching corridor. All but one. There was one on the right side, In a separate room.

"You four. That side." Victor pointed. "The crew goes back. The Hydrans stay here. Bring up the medics, they'll need them."

The others nodded and passed the orders back.

"I'll take the one on the right. We go on four."

The hastily-assembled troops looked at one another, shook their heads, and tightened the grips on their weapons.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

****

She still could not move, or see her captors. But she could feel, she could feel them putting things inside her, it hurt it hurt so badly, like they were tearing her apart from the inside out. Some tears managed to escape her eyes. But there was still no sound. Only the silent agony.

****

Victor came through the door silently, only the sound of the mechanism operating betraying his presence as he stepped into the room. He hadn't been certain what he would find, hadn't known what the Hydrans were doing, but this, this was nothing he'd envisioned. Not even the machines he'd seen in an abandoned Cardassian Interrogation post after the War had been so. Wrong.

He didn't try to restrain the red haze that rose up across his vision, didn't try to hold back the surge from within him as the thing inside him went from its normal controlled state to being totally unchecked in a single heartbeat. These were *his* people, not the Hydran's - and unlike the Diparthu, the Hydrans were here, they were physical, and he could reach them.

There were four Hydrans in the room, all in lightweight suits connected to an atmosphere generator supplying their methane breathing mix so that they could operate their machinery and monitor the results of their tests first-hand. Obviously they were used to the sound of the door mechanism, or were so absorbed in what they were doing that they hadn't heard it operate. Victor smiled Death's smile and the sudden surge of his presence slammed across the room like an explosion, causing all four of the aliens to look up.

A single phaser discharge severed the connections to the atmosphere generator and starting a shriek of escaping methane and other gasses as the four suits emptied out. Victor reached the first flailing Hydran in two silent steps, his rifle falling to hang by the sling as he reached for the alien. Phasers were too impersonal, too remote; for this offence, a more personal touch was needed.

Escaping methane was suddenly not the loudest thing screaming in the room.

****

Outside the door Victor had just entered Kimberly shuddered at the sounds from within, it was one thing to hear the high pitched whine of a phaser doing it's work, but the grisly sound of flesh meeting bone could be heard even out here...

"Ouch!" she muttered after one particularly loud and unpleasant sound, "that sounded permanent!"

Checking her own tricorder she saw the same readings that Victor obviously had, the bulk of the prisoners were on one side of the corridor where the majority of the team were even now working to extract them, Mr. Krieghoff it seemed was after one separate prisoner, ~ Interrogation perhaps? ~ she wondered. Looking to the Trauma squad gathered with a few guards in the corridor she waved to the team, "Follow the main squad as soon as they give the word," she instructed, "I'll see what's happening in here and follow."

Noticing that the sounds beyond were dying down she stepped cautiously through the door after Krieghoff, he may not be her favourite person aboard the Galaxy, but that was secondary to the mission right now, even so, she averted her eyes from him as she entered and surveyed the room.

~ Ugh! ~ was all she thought upon first seeing the carnage he had wrought.

****

Branwen knew something was happening. There was a lot of shouting, shrieking and they stopped touching her. There were still instruments inside her, but they had stopped twisting and turning them, hurting her inside. Still she could not move a muscle, she couldn't shout or look to see what was going on. Branwen just made a silent prayer that they would not touch her again. Anything but that. Anything.

****

Victor blinked once and the red faded slightly, enough that he knew someone else was in the room - and that they weren't a Hydran, which meant they were one of the others that had come with him. and that they weren't supposed to die.

He took a breath, the methane stink in the air choking him, but even that did nothing to make his voice less terrifying, to lessen the talons of fear that the words sent digging into Kimberly's spine. "See to." he looked at the person on the table for the first time and realized he knew her, "the Lieutenant here, Doctor - I believe she'll react better to you than to me." He turned slightly, the shadows and a curl of frozen methane making his face into something other than human. "The Hydrans don't need any assistance."

Branwen recognized the voice. And internally she sobbed with relief. It was Victor, her friend Victor who had come to save her. She knew he was a good man, she knew it. But then it sunk in, he was going to see her like this. He was going to see everything about her. And then she shrieked again within her mind.

Stepping over one of the now definitely deceased Hydrans Kimberly moved swiftly to the young Lieutenants side, glancing swiftly around as she moved she saw the instruments and devices that lay nearby, "Mr... Krieghoff... Have a look round please, It'd be nice to know what they've been doing here, I could use any data chips or crystals you can find, plus scans of any drugs you can see so I know what they might've used," she asked flatly.

Victor frowned and looked around the room. To him, at least, it seemed obvious what the Hydrans had been doing, although why they'd gone about it in this fashion when there were scanners and micro-transporter samplers that could have done the job for them faster and with less mess. As he programmed his tricorder to run scans, it occurred to him that the Hydrans had chosen this method deliberately, possibly even contemptuously, to send a message. If that were the case, then he'd need to make certain that they received one in kind.

"Hey Branwen," she said softer as reached her, looking the table over she winced internally as she saw some of the things there, and what had obviously been in progress, running her tricorder over the secured woman she ran a quick check before releasing her, "gimme a sec and we'll get you out of here," she assured her, without looking around, "I'll need a blanket as well!" she called to Victor.

Victor glanced around the lab, but saw nothing suitable for a blanket except some opaque foil-like sheeting covering a bundle of equipment. Wrenching it free, he handed it to Kimberly. "We can't take too long, Doctor. Their security will be responding soon."

A few tears escaped Branwen's eyes. She felt so utterly humiliated and degraded. A small part of her even wished she had not been rescued so nobody would have to see her this way.

Cursing inwardly at the abuse that had been heaped on Branwen Kimberly tried not to let it show on her face, her tricorder readings indicated Branwen's voluntary nervous system was inhibited somehow, as well as there being several devices within her, "Hold on, we'll have you out soon," she promised again, looking the restraints over again, ~ I'll need a key. or a phaser torch! ~ she realised.

"Doctor?" Victor repeated, offering the improvised blanket again.

Turning slightly Kimberly saw the offered material and took it with a nod, "We'll need the key or code for the restraints, failing that a cutter," she informed the looming officer, "but we'll be here for a bit, she's not moving 'til I check her and stabilise her condition, so I guess you get to cover me," she informed him and she covered Branwen's prone form.

Branwen felt something slide over her. They were covering her, covering the shame. But probably not until everybody had seen it.

"We won't have that much time, Doctor," Victor replied, his voice a soft whisper that dug under the skin and sent tingles of fear up the spine. "There will be a security response within three to five minutes, and self-destruct charges after that - assuming they bother with the troops at all."

Feeling the unholy shiver in her spine at his tone she closed her eyes for a brief second and tried to ignore the memories surfacing, "Just get her free," Kimberly snapped as she started working, "I'll be quick."

"Move." The single word was not a request.

Stepping around to the other side of the table she ignored his tone and kept her mind on her work, moving as swiftly as she could she made sure the devices either attached, or inserted, were either removed or posed no immediate danger to Branwen.

Literally as soon as Kimberly was clear, Victor stepped up to the table. "She'll have burns, Doctor, have something ready for that." Without another word he was lifting a hand, and a thin beam of blue-white light was lancing out from it to slice into the restraints, cutting through them in swift arcs.

It hurt. The burning brought tears to Branwen's eyes. But this was the kind of pain she could deal with. It was something her father would do when she was little. Hold her hand over a candle flame. This pain now meant they were getting her out of here. And it was a good thing.

"The burns I can treat later, just get her free. are you always this. fluffy?" she said, a slight sarcastic lilt to her voice as she gave Branwen a quick shot, "Two Hydrans incoming by the way," she informed the security officer, waving her tricorder slightly in the direction of a nearby door.

Victor frowned at the restraints and switched over to the second set. "I am what I am, Doctor," he answered as the beam sliced through the restraints on that side, narrowing missing Kimberly's foot as it sectioned off a part of the table as well. As the restraints and part of the table dropped free, he swung around without bothering to turn off the device - Kimberly finally recognizing it as a Phaser 1 of a model that hadn't been issued in over a century - the beam scorching a line in the floor and wall as he turned. "Even the Hydrans can tell that," he added in that same, terrifying voice, the words wrapping around the soft whine of the archaic phaser, blending with it so that it seemed that it was they that sliced into the floor and not a beam of energy from the weapon he held.

The door she'd indicated slid open with a hiss - just as the beam he'd dragged across the floor reached it.

The two Hydrans there raised their weapons, mechanically-translated voices stared to speak. and Victor's thumb shifted slightly on the weapon, the whine intensifying as the power setting was ratcheted up into the lethal range as he sliced them apart with the beam, the bulky aliens dissipating into soft white clouds of molecular gas that flared and vanished, leaving nothing to show that they'd ever been there at all.

Victor thumbed the weapon off and finished his turn so that he was now facing Kimberly again. "It appears that they've forgotten, though," he said with a smile, the sense of his presence shifting, as if something else had entered the room and stepped into him to wear his face like a mask, something that Kimberly knew well, something that she fought against for the life of every patient. "I think, perhaps, that they need to be reminded why it is that their children are afraid of the dark," Death finished.

Pausing involuntarily she shuddered at the sudden cold feeling that crept up and down her spine, this man chilled her very soul. Slapping her commbadge perhaps a little too hard she raised her voice, "Trauma team one, I need a stretcher in here now!" she ordered, her voice sounding strained.

=/\= On the way ma'am. =/\=

Looking at the intimidating security officer she took a deep breath and turned back to Branwen, "Just cover us for another moment," she ordered brusquely, "Branwen, can you hear me?" she asked a little softer.

She even managed to make a little sound this time. Maybe the poison in her body was wearing off. But she couldn't really speak or move much.

Letting her breath hiss out between her teeth in frustration she willed the medtech to move faster as she worked to disentangle Branwen from the table, stepping back suddenly she looked to Victor, "Cut the table," she announced, "take out the support column, we'll attach the antigrav stretcher to the table direct and take her as she is," she decided as the door opened behind them, "We'll get her off this back on the ship! Get over here!" she called to the techs urgently.

The thing that was speaking through Victor smiled again, a different simile than the last one - no less chilling, but different. "All right Doctor."

Directing the two paramedics she let them attach the antigravs to the underside of the table and directed them to activate them and step back once done, "All yours," she called to Victor, eager to be out of here and away, and not just because of their proximity to the Hydrans.

Bran found that she could move her head a little. Embarrassed as she was, she was glad to have Victor near now. She felt safe with him watching over her.

Without a word, Victor raised his hand again and used the phaser to slice through the support column attaching the table to the floor. As the table jerked and then floated free, he powered off the weapon. "Done," he said simply. He turned to look at Kimberly. "Get her out of her, Doctor. There will be at most one other Hydran security team before they decide this is pointless and evacuate. Once that happens, this installation's existence is no longer necessary - or desirable - from their point of view." Without waiting for a response, he tapped his commbadge. "So'ka. Report."

There was a moment's hesitation and then a voice responded: =/\= "Prisoners secured, sir. No fatalities. Commander Corgan is requesting a phaser." =/\=

"No weapons until he's cleared by Medical, So'ka. He knows the rules; if he tries to take one, stun him. Get everyone out."

=/\= "Ahh. Are you. staying, sir?" =/\=

Victor smiled Death's smile again. "Only for a moment; I need to send a message to someone."

There was a longer pause. =/\= "Aye, sir. Commencing evacuation now." =/\=

Still smiling, Death looked at Kimberly again. "Why are you still here, Doctor?" he asked with Victor's mouth. "Go - this isn't a place for you any more."

Looking at the security officer Kimberly found herself drawn to his eyes, and for a brief second found her gaze locked with his. Feeling an almost primordial terror grip her she did the only thing her mind would let her.

She bolted, just as she had before when she had first met him, and she didn't stop running until she reached the runabout.

As Kimberly departed, Death was bending over the remains of the Hydran scientists, making a pile of separated parts next to one of the scientist's transporter recall beacons and a box he'd dragged from by one wall and dumped out on the floor.

"In The Halls"

By Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer

Ensign Zev Raynor
'Intelligence' Officer

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell
Engineering Officer

Counselor Kiel with still unnamed 4 y/o Jemmie NPC

Ensign Artim
Security Medic

****

Deck 32,
Crew Lounges

With the Jem'Hadar now safely ensconced on board the ship, it hadn't been difficult to cordon them into 'safe zones' in order to reduce the opportunity for any of the on-board saboteurs to do any serious damage. Still, being so close to the Phaser Cannon taps and Stardrive core systems, the need for an on-site security team in all major areas where the Jem`Hadar were allowed to propagate was mandatory.

Even so, Curran needed to make the effort to keep an ongoing rapport with their guest, since Captain Henderson had been ordered to divert from Deep Space 5 in order to deliver the former junior Senator Ramir Omar's body back to ch'Rihan for a proper burial.

So, here he was, lodged into the crew lounges on Deck 32 to help the Jem`Hadar adapt to a new way of life until a suitable transport or location could be found to take them there.

Raynor had no idea what he was doing on Deck 32. He was told to go make regular checks on what the Jem'Hadar were up to... but the way the order was given impressed upon him something along the lines of... "Don't come back until you have something you can nail these bastards with."

This assignment had landed him making hourly reports of conversations he had, and how they don't seem to be up to anything, which was not going over particularly well with the officer who gave him the assignment.

But the thing was, if they were going to do anything, they would of done it by now, while they were spread throughout the ship in various tour groups, when they could attack many places at once, making them damned hard to contain. But then again, maybe he gave them a little too much credit. They might not know the layout of the ship, as well as Raynor had assumed although he knew that the first batch of groups could gather intelligence that they needed for any attacks, and they could of tried using several methods of dividing the group up.

But it wasn't just that. His telepathic senses told him that there was no plot amoung the people he met. No feeling of deception. Just simply that they'd wanted to live peacefully. Ender, his one time Jem'Hadar ward would of been puzzled by these people. Not necessarily because they wanted peace but by the fact they seemed unwilling to fight even in self defence it would seem. How many of these peaceful Jem'Hadar died on the planet not fighting back.

Of course he knew the exact number buried into his unconscious mind and if he really wanted to he could search for it. But he didn't want to. Suffice to say he knew the mentallity these Jem'Hadar held towards combat. They were not soldiers.

He continued his walk... wondering how much longer he would have to keep this up, until everyone was convinced of the facts that Raynor already knew.

Nara was closing up a kit after fixing a unit on the wall. She looked over and saw Raynor. She stood and waved at him, "Hi, there."

Raynor saw Nara and wondered for a second, if she was stalking him, because they seemed to bump into each alot, without any sort of plan he was aware of... but he waved it off.

"Hey, what you working on?" Raynor asked, then jokingly added "The latest attempt at sabotage?"

"Wouldn't sink to their level." Then she started walking, Stuff needs fixing all over. It's my favorite part really, getting out, opening up the guts of the ship, making her happy again."

"She been happy before?" Raynor asked. "I thought she was always a grumpy mean old ship..."

*****Meanwhile on Deck 35*****

"Are you hungry," Kiel asked of his companion, as the mismatched pair came around one corner of the corridor which wound through Deck 35. On which, there seemed to be quite a number of non-Jem'Hadar among the deck's denizens. The ship's young El Aurian ensign walking hand- in-hand with the diminutive Jem'Hadar toddler, who's short legs were a flurry as the black-haired, shale-skinned child skipped about the hallway, tethered by the hold which the preteen counselor restrained the small child from bounding up the walls. The idea had been to let the bouncing boy exercise some of his superfilous energy while also getting him out around some of the other Jem'Hadar and letting him interact with some of his own people. With so many orphaned children and displaced adults, the Jem'Hadar were struggling to make do and, as such, they still hadn't found someone among them to care of the young Jemmie; whose name still hadn't been pried from him.

And so, Kiel continued to care for the child he'd pulled out of the wreckage on the world; which seemed to actually cull favor between himself and some of the survivors, enabling them to open up to the preteenlistener and talk about the massacre. All that aside, Kiel looked down at the boy. Craning his head around, the child looked up at the blond-haired ensign to cheerfully declare, "Yes! Want ice cream!"

Giving a quiet chuckle, Kiel shook his head as the preteen guided the tot Toward one of the replicators in one of the crew lounges. "How about something a little less... sugary," Kiel proposed, already certain that the child wouldn't be happy to compromise.

"Now now, what's wrong with sugar? We should be introducing them to all the great cuisines of the universe. Don't tempt me or I might make up a pan of brownies."

Artim smiled as he came around the corner and saw Kiel and his young Jem'hadar charge. The Miran had been avoiding them as much as possible though quite a bit of his time since he transfered to security had been spent chasing Jem'hadar kids all over the ship. At least Kiel had control of this one. "So Kiel, enjoying being a parent?"

Glaring over at the other uniformed kid, the young El Aurian shot a dark look in the Miran's general direction. "Well, it was really more of his idea than mine," the blond-haired boy replied slowly. His hazel eyes showing as a smokey silver as he leveled a sharp glance at the medic for the brownie comment. Like the Jemmie needed any more damn sugar...

As if on cue, the charcoal-skinned tot piped up. "What's a brownzies? Or a kwi... kiwi... kwi-zine," the small child asked, his voice demanding answers to these important questions; though at the sight of the somewhat unfamiliar Artim, the boy retracted so that he was closer to Kiel.

Reaching out with his free hand, the Jemmie hugged against the El Aurian's left leg.

"Food...rather yummy food." Artim replied grinning.

Looking down at the top of the child's head, Kiel gave a soft sigh as he glanced back up at Artim with an almost helpless expression, holding out a small toy which seemed to be broken. "I decided to get him out and try to walk off some energy after he trashed his favorite... whatever this is," the counselor explained, a sense of frustration underpining his words. "I don't suppose you know anyone who might be good at fixing these...whatevers?"

Artim took the toy and looked it, puzzling over what it was. After examining it for a few moments he returned it and said, "Well, I paid attention in basic engneering but I don't think I can do much with this. We could go find a real engineer?"

Artim was giving the only suggestion he could come up with as he grinned down at the little Jem'hadar. Perhaps if these kids could be made...docile the cycle could be broken. Perhaps the Jem'hadar can be taught...civilization. They appeared to be doing well back there, before their fellows who couldn't let go destroyed it.

With his hand now free, Kiel momentarily shifted his attention to the clingy Jem'Hadar that was wrapped around his leg. Reaching down, the El Aurian youth let go of the child's hand as he slipped his hands under the small boy's arms and lifted him up off the deck, settling the boy against his right hip as the preteen youth shifted his hold and balance so to comfortably carry the Jemmie. For his part, the gray-skinned child just rested his head against Kiel's shoulder, staring at Artim with his large, coal black eyes; the fingers of his right hand reaching across Kiel's chest to fiddle with the silver and gold parabolic pin afixed to the front of the counselor's uniform.

Brushing a strand of hair from out of the boy's face, the young El Aurian glanced back at the Miran. "Yeah, I've been looking to see if there were any around while we've been talking with some of the Jem'Hadar but... well, some like to talk more than others."

*****Meanwhile on Deck 32*****

As she continued to walk, she laughed, "To you she is. You annoy her crew With your bubble wrap and invading her comm systems for some practical joke."

"A: I'm part of this crew now, for better or for worse," Raynor started in His defense. "B: Better to be slightly annoyed, than in a deep brooding state of depression waiting for a handful of over booked counselors who decided handle the situation in a way that drains them, puts people on waiting lists edging over closer and closer to suicide... something that is not helped by the lack of natural sunlight on a ship such as this... a fact that does apparently effect humans... rather than group theraphy which would of at least given some people the bandage they needed until a regular counselling session was available... and that fling did happen to boost morale, and C: I still have to put together a stupid radio show together now. FOR A DAILY ANNOYANCE, as you seem to take it."

Nara laughed and shook her head as his ramblings started to endear her. Her new sparring partner--well, they've yet to spar, but she did run into him a lot--seemed to get started on some rant everytime she saw him, "Well a radio show seems up your alley. You love to talk."

"No... I love annoying superior officers. Talking is just a method of doing that," Raynor said. "Especially when you're handed an oppuntunity to talk back to the stupid ones... those guys always the most fun." He had a smirk on his face as he followed her around the corner...

...and ran into the ships Liaison Officer.

Kylar had been hovering just around the corner, listening to the exchange with mild displeasure. After having left the lounges in order to obtain an answer on several questions relating to the living and assignment arrangements of the Jem`Hadar, he'd grown exasperated and claustrophobic at the cramped slave pens the ship's Quartermaster called a 'safe zone'. They were hot, humid, and far too heady for his liking.

"And how is it you define stupid, Ensign? By surveying yourself in the morning while preening? Or by not taking care of watching your mouth while it runs on in a public corridor? If those are your criteria, then it isn't likely any person on this ship is as unintelligent as you are. Ironic considering the department you apparently are a part of." Kylar gestured to the black collar of Raynor's sweater. "You should take more care in how you phrase comments on this ship."

Raynor had a small internal thought... about oh how this entire loud mouth insubordinate idiot thing was an act so that every spy on board would peg him as incapable of doing anything right... spreading false information about personnel was part of the job, while gathering intelligence about every part of the ships crew so he knew the exact emotional states and capabilities. But of course with this never escaped his lips... as he kept his bright smile on.

"Nah... I rather be honest and allow everyone to know my thoughts rather than having to deal with the stress of keeping my mouth shut..." Raynor said in an ironic truth. Keeping up the act did in fact stress him out at times, but it was also fun as well, he made sure he his mouth moved often and loudly but rarely did it say anything that mattered in his heart, just random half baked ideas. "And your right, I should be in charge of the stupidity department... to bad this ship doesn't have one," Raynor joked.

"So how goes the talks with our Jem'Hadar guests?" he asked after a short pause.

"You're in Intelligence. You should know already." Curran felt this officer was either playing the idiot, or truly was one. He leaned towards the latter. There was supposed to be a level of professionalism to the uniform, and this... person... certainly was lacking that. So much for Intelligence officers being low-key.

Nara was just glad he hadn't heard her comment about the Jem'Hadar. She tried to hide her prejudice from people who would scold her for it. She knew deep down it was wrong. But it wasn't something lectures would cure. Like most things, it would take time. She just didn't trust them on the ship.

"These 'talks' with our guests are also supposed to demonstrate our level of responsibility, maturity, and impressions of overall presentation to a potential partner and member of the Federation. Would it make you feel any more consolation if you knew you drove the Jem`Hadar to align with the T`Kith'Kin and Hydrans? That's one sure-fire way to have yourself terminated from Starfleet. Only I think you'd find life much more difficult to survive on a day-to-day basis knowing your face and name are spoken on the billboards and breaths of trillions, with no one to protect you.

"I suggest you keep your mouth shut, your opinions to yourself, and perhaps removed from any possible physical interactions with the Jem`Hadar before the rest of us have to perform damage control. Your opinions are not sanctioned by the diplomatic corps or Starfleet, so take them to your personal quarters and off-duty. I will be sure to corroborate this encounter with Lieutenant Dobryin so no errors in judgment occur from any party."

He nodded to Roswell as he passed through, "Good day, Lieutenant. Be careful of who you associate with. It may not bode well for your career."

Without waiting for a reply from either, he continued into the next series crew lounges, where he continued to search for Goran`Agar.

Nara just nodded, "Aye sir."

Raynor blinked for a second, watching the Vice-Legate storm off. "It's funny because I'm one of the few crewmembers who actually respect these Jem'Hadar for trying to overcome the hatred that exists against them, and forge a new racial identity for themselves despite all odds against them. And he just told to shut up because I'LL cause diplomatic damage... ironic isn't it?" He turned to Nara eyebrows raised.

She looked back at him and with a slight smirk, replied, "You would." She then walked off to her next item on the list of repairs.

"He Who Watches The Watchers"

Captain Cassius Henderson,
Commanding Officer

Pilot Paulo DiMillo,
Intelligence Liaison, Vanguard Squadron

with... PO3 Lysandra Stuart,
Intelligence Analyst

Major Sharien t'Riasau,
RNI Liaison

****

Flight Deck,
Deck 38,
USS Galaxy

"Pilot DiMillo," Lysa Stuart called up from the flight deck, cocking her head back to look up the cockpit of the DiMillo's starfighter. She was expecting a quick response. All of the intelligence personnel that served on the Galaxy knew her voice, as she often served as the messenger for Captain Henderson.

"Yes," he said climbing out. He didn't spend a lot of hours in these things, but it was required to get in one for so many hours a month. It was a nice change from sitting in a Runabout all the time.

Lysa leaned against his fighter as he climbed down, nonchalantly looking around the bay. On her homeworld, starfighters were raced for sport. It was a deadly profession, but it was often the only way to get enough money or fame to get off world. She'd always wanted to be a pilot, but in the end it had been easier to enlist in Starfleet.

"What can I do for you Petty Officer?" He asked as he stepped down onto the deck.

"I have an update for you from Lieutenant Dobryin," Lysa said, handing him a PADD. Other intelligence analysts frequently found themselves bringing reports to the liaison officers for the attached commands; Vanguard Squadron and the SFMC Furies. Coming from Lysa Stuart, DiMillo would know that there was no such update on the PADD.

"Ah, thank you," he said taking the pad and bring up the message. What he saw more or less shocked him, especially as he was expecting a report from Cora.

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

TO: Pilot DiMillo, Paulo, IL: VS
FROM: Captain Henderson, Cassius, SH: HS

Come to my office. I need an update from you.

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

"This isn't from Lt Dobryin," he said looking up and looking for her.

When he turned around, Lysa was already gone.

****

Captain's Ready Room,
Deck 1,
USS Galaxy

"Come in," Cassius called upon hearing the chime. That would likely be DiMillo. Glancing over the shoulder of his guest, he confirmed that suspicion, and stood up. "Major, I'm sorry, but I have another meeting right now. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to send me a message. The guards will return you to your quarters now."

The Rihannsu Naval Intelligence Liaison nodded, standing to shake his hand. "Jolan'tru, Captain. If you require further consultation, the offer goes both ways," Sharien smiled, before spinning on her heel and walking out of the ready room, into the waiting arms of the security guards. She'd been under house arrest since Ramir Omar's murder, and although O'Shea had claimed responsibility for that action, both of them agreed that it would be best for her to remain in custody.

"Thank you, Major," Cass replied, waiting until the door had slid shut to continue. "Sit down, Pilot. Would you like something to drink?"

"Water is fine," he said. "Keeping up with the hours needed in a starfighter can be parching to the throat." He paused as he took the glass of water. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking, what it this about?"

Cassius didn't reply immediately, instead ordering two waters from the replicator. The glasses were appropriately chilled, ice cold to the touch. Returning to the desk, he placed one before DiMillo and took a drink from the other. "Paulo, do you consider yourself to be unbiased in your activities as a member of Starfleet Intelligence."

Paulo paused, taking a sip. "I would like to think so sir, but as you asked me, I suspect you have your doubts," he admitted.

"I am," Cassius nodded, reluctantly. These were the conversations he hated, but had to have anyway. The job came with it. "Do you remember the stated policy for intelligence operations in Hydran Sector, pursuant to unofficial and unauthorized investigations?"

"Something about don't," Paulo admitted knowing where this was headed.

"Something about don't?" Cassius bellowed, slamming a clenched fist down on Captain M'Kantu's desk, causing his glass of water to jump. With lightning reflexes, he caught it and lowered it back to the desk, catching a beat to calm down. "How can you be so nonchalant and still have a career in intelligence? These rules exist for a reason, and yet time and time again you flaunt them like they don't apply to you."

"This is not the first time you've conducted an unsanctioned investigation. Before this, there was the one into Bental, which was only retroactively authorized," he continued. "Starfleet Intelligence officers do not conduct their own investigations, especially not into family members, Paulo. I know you don't understand your sister's defection. But it's not your place, and you're only tying up the real investigation."

Paulo had been a little startled by the out lash, but had expected something. "Sir, with all due respect, you did miss one. The reason I went AWOL back when I was assigned to SFI between assignments here on the Galaxy." Paulo paused a second looking down at his chest at his combadge. "It is well within your right to ask for my resignation within SFI." He paused again knowing what that entailed. It meant a memory wipe of all his activities within Intel. His time with Cora, finding out he had a half sister, who had since decided that being a traitor was a better idea.

"I may not like the reality of having to step out of Intelligence, but you are right. I have gone against code three times, one that hurt me pretty bad, and two others that have caused SFI to look down at me. I have no delusions of coming out of this incident with my hide intact."

"Having to step outside of Intelligence?" Cassius questioned, maintaining a firm tone of voice. "What could possibly require you to step outside of the community, Paulo?"

"Sir, its apparent that SFI is not happy with me. If they had been I would have had at least gotten one promotion." Paulo paused seeing the facts in front of him. "I am also starting to think I joined for the wrong reasons."

"Don't dodge the question," Cassius said sharply. "Why did you step outside of the community and conduct your own, unsanctioned investigations on three separate occasions?"

"I am guessing I take things to personal," Paulo replied. "I was told at the Academy that. Guess that is the best answer."

Cassius sighed, doing his best to resist the urge to shout again. He often wondered when Starfleet Academy had stopped teaching protocol and decorum. Instead of continuing on to dress him down, Cassius paused. "Pilot, why did you join Starfleet Intelligence?"

"When I was little I had two very important things taken from me. One was my little sister, and the other was my little brother. The two where twins and where always together. They did everything together. On their 6th Birthday my little sister, for some reason ran out side. We didn't think anything of it at the time. The next thing we know, she was gone." Paulo paused remembering those events. "A few weeks later my little brother died from what the doctor called a "broken heart". He rationalized that his other half had been taken from him, and he couldn't go on without it. Since then, the driving force in my life has been to find out who did this. Who took my little sister, but I have gotten nothing. I had hopped that after Section 31 was taken down that she would have appeared, like Major Weber, but I had no such luck."

"Pilot, I don't want you to think that your loss, and more importantly your brother and sister's loss, was in any way unimportant," Cassius said, trying to think about what wisdom Captain M'Kantu would have offered in the same situation. He often found that he was too opinionated to give the same quality advice that the Galaxy's former commanding officer would have imparted. "However, that's a dangerous reason to join a group like SFI. You swore an oath when you joined the service to act in the interest of the Federation. In conducting your own investigations into casework you haven't been assigned, you're failing that oath. And to be frank, you're probably impeding the progress of the official investigation."

"The official investigation was ended years ago on my brother and sister." He paused. "And I truly don't have a good reason for as to why I was looking into Anna," he admitted. "And did you discover anything about your sister's disappearance that the official investigators didn't?" Cassius asked. "Nothing," Paulo admitted. "I thought I had a few leads, but they all turned up to be dead ends."

"Then what did you accomplish?" Cassius questioned, "These investigations have only compounded your problems. You spent time in the stockade. Starfleet Intelligence no longer trusts you."

"So I am gathering," Paulo replied. "What are my options?"

"Frankly, you don't have options. I'm inclined to agree with my superiors in this case," he explained, letting a pregnant pause hang in the air as he took a pull from his cup. "You're a loose cannon, Mr. DiMillo. We're in the business of keeping secrets, and SFI can't account for people they can't predict. I'm suspending your access to Starfleet Intelligence's Database until further notice, and placing a formal reprimand on your file."

Paulo was a little surprised. He hadn't expected them to be that harsh, but what did he expect. "I understand."

"You're dismissed, Pilot," Cassius said. It was time to wrap this up, as he had several more meetings to go through for Hydran Sector Intelligence and Strategic Operations before he could move on to ship's business. "And Liaison wanted me to convey to you that this is your final warning. Deviate from the SFI rules of operation, and you'll be facing retirement. I don't have to explain to you what that entails."

It was, after all, not that long ago that they'd discussed the difference between memory wipes and staying in SFI. That time it had been in reference to his budding romance with Lieutenant Dobryin. This time was more serious.

Paulo stood up, saluted and headed towards the door leading to the bridge. As he headed out of the door Cora was just ready to hit the chime. He didn't say anything. He nodded and kept on walking.

"Strained Resources"

Captain Cassius Henderson,
Commanding Officer

Lieutenant JG Cora Dobryin,
Chief Intelligence Officer

with... PO3 Lysandra Stuart,
Intelligence Analyst

****

Intelligence Center,
Deck 8,
USS Galaxy

After dropping off her handler's instructions with DiMillo in the fighter bay, Lysa Stuart made her was back to the intelligence center to complete her morning rounds. As she crossed the threshold, she could see that the room was bustling with activity. Crates were stacked in one corner, labeled as evidence in the O'Shea case, which was just getting underway. Lysa guessed that the crates contained the contents of O'Shea's office in Engineering, which had been cleared to make room for Lieutenant Grey.

Lysa made a beeline for the Intelligence Liaison's office, stopping only to accept a cup of coffee from one of her fellow analysts. Leaning on the doorframe, she rang the chime and waited to be called in.

"Enter," Cora called.

The slim petty office stepped into the office and over to Lieutenant Dobryin's desk with her usual grace. "HH wants to see you," she said, carefully pronouncing each letter of the shorthand for Handler: Hydran Sector - Captain Cassius Henderson.

Cora nodded, "In his office I presume. Make sure those crates don't go anywhere. I'll be back to run make assignment for the O'Shea case."

"Aye, Ma'am," Lysa nodded, "I'll see to it."

****

Captain's Ready Room,
Deck 1,
USS Galaxy

"Come in and take a seat, Cora," Cassius called out. Compared to the unpleasant meeting with Pilot DiMillo, this would be much more satisfying. Dobryin was a professional, and their meeting would actual accomplish something. Cassius would take that over reprimanding sullen junior officers any day.

It occurred to him that he should have had somebody else in between the two, as they'd likely passed in the hall. But it was already done, and perhaps better this way. He could be up front with Dobryin about DiMillo's situation, if she chose to inquire.

The CIO took a seat, "You wanted to see me, Sir."

"Yes, about the current disposition of Galaxy's intelligence resources. But only briefly," he replied, handing her a PADD. "As of this morning, you're officially charged with a full investigation into the extent of Commander Brianna O'Shea's activities as an agent of the Hydran Sovereignty. Normally, this would be the purview of the Security Department, but because it involves a foreign power, it falls to you."

The Intelligence unit stationed on the Galaxy was a small one, the sort usually deployed to provide accurate intelligence reports on the ship's current mission. With the Galaxy being asked to enter Rihannsu space, they would already be working overtime. The O'Shea Investigation being added to that could push their workload to the point of impossibility. "We knew this was coming, and I assume you've been planning accordingly. How do you intend to counter in increased strain on your resources?"

"We'll be busy but I've set up a rotation schedule that will allow us to handle the added work load," Cora replied.

Cassius nodded, accepting her judgment. He had confidence in her ability to manage her people. She knew them better than anyone else. "Don't hesitate to ask Security for help, if you feel the need. Commander Corgan has some very talented investigators."

"I will do that Sir," Cora knew when too much was too much. "If things get too difficult I'll get help."

"Do you have a schedule for the investigation yet?" Cassius asked, curious what areas she'd be covering first, and in what order.

"After I leave here I'm briefing my staff. Theres a lot of containers in Intel but we still have to search her quarters."

"Well, I look forward to reading your report," he stated, before moving on to a new topic. "On the subject of Intelligence's other main focus, I need you to compile a report on the political factions currently operating on ch'Rihan, as well as the military disposition of the area. Get with Lieutenant Bental on that last one."

"Understood I'll get with the Lieutenant," Cora replied.

Her response wasn't what he'd been expecting, given her history with Bental. "I take it you and Mr. Bental have resolved your differences?"

Cora simply responded, "What ever our differences are Sir, I'm first and foremost an officer in Starfleet. I can act like a professional to get the job done."

"As it should be," Cassius agreed. Textbook answer, but it would have to suffice. She had every reason to be suspicious of Bental, but within the preparation of the report that he needed, they'd do their jobs. "That's everything for today. Before you go, I need to tell you that I've suspended Pilot DiMillo's access to the SFI Database. He's been conducting unauthorized investigations again, and SFI thinks he may become a security risk."

Slowly Cora nodded, "I have to admit thats news I wasn't expecting to hear. Unathorized investigations isn't a good thing thats for sure." It complicated things but Cora knew nothing about Paulo's actions until now.

"It's not the first time, Cora," he said, more informally. "You remember why he spent time in the stockade. Illegal investigation into the disappearance of his sister. Later, it was Bental, which we retroactively sanctioned. Now it's O'Shea. I'd call that a pattern. He can't be trusted no to strike out on his own when people he cares about are involved."

"Its a pattern yes," Cora admitted, "And you're right. However I assume he didn't take this news too well at all."

"He didn't seem to react at all, which actually concerns me more," Cassius replied, "I pointed out that what he was doing was only hurting his career, but he didn't seem overly concerned."

"Thats not good at all," Cora answered the question.

"I know that you and he are close. You should talk to him about it. He's more likely to open up to you," Cassius suggested, his tone indicated informality. "He's passionate enough, but if he wants to achieve his goals... and I won't pretend to know what they are... he needs to straighten himself out. Eventually, SFI is going to cut their losses, and he'll have to retire."

Cora nodded, "We're close yes. Probably more than I thought would happen but we'll see if he'll talk to me or not. You're right he's passionate enough but can he straighten himself out. I'll talk to him but there's no guarantees especially since I don't want him to think I'm the enemy for saying anything at all regarding this."

"And I certainly don't want you to be What happens between you should stay between you," he replied, clasping his hands together on his desk.

At that Cora simply nodded, "If there's nothing else, I have an Intel department to hate me for adding more to our work load." She smiled, "And yes I'll make sure they aren't too overworked."

"Do what you have to do, Lieutenant. If we have to push them hard for two weeks to get through this assignment, then that's what we'll do," Cassius stated, standing up to walk with her to the door. "Keep me posted."

*Note - Apologies, this one, and the previous one I sent in are set 'Before' "Pain of Words" - Where Bran Slaps Saul*

"Did You Know?"

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer

Lieutenant Branwen London
Furies Counsellor

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

Tapping on Branwen’s door, Kimberly looked down at the PADD she carried,

~ Kids, they'll be the end of me! ~ she decided, hearing the call from inside she stepped through the door, "Hey," she said with a smile as she entered, "how's you?" placing a bag on the desk she dropped inelegantly into a convenient chair, "how'd the shouting go?"

"Shouting? You mean training? Not bad. I'm not being too tough on them as it has been a hard time for everybody. They just have to be back in shape by the time Baile returns. I am getting there. Have a seat, Kimberley."

"Thanks," she replied, already getting comfortable, "So, since we skipped lunch I brought sandwiches and salad, interested?" indicating the bag on Branwens desk, "and a story about two troublesome girls."

"I am interested in both." Branwen seemed a little bit more relaxed than earlier. "I am very hungry, thank you Kimberley."

"Great," unpacking a selection of sandwiches and a large salad bowl she also unpacked some plates and cutlery, "How come everyone needs to get 'back' in shape? Everyone been lazing around while the boss is away?" she asked with a small smile.

"They were a bit shook up about what happened. And they need to learn how to work together, some are pretty new. And some actually also want psychological help to deal with what happened. All in all it keeps me pretty busy." She admitted.

"It has been hectic lately," Kimberly agreed, "how about you? How're you coping with all that's happened? And the extra work has to be taking a lot of your free time as well?"

"A lot, try all." Branwen leaned back in her chair. "I'm coping though. Yet it isn't easy. But back to the girls, that's why you are here."

Nodding, "Mostly," sliding some salad across the desk she followed it up with a PADD, "I've the feeling it might be better to talk with them both about this at the same time, I thought about approaching her parents, but I recalled you've been assigned as her mentor, so I thought I'd speak with you first."

"Yes our former captain decided that." Branwen smiled. "She is a handful."

"Well, I was running some diagnostics on the KittyKat, my shuttle," she added, "and unless I'm mistaken, it looks like the girls beamed down to Junction during our visit there, looks like they were down on the surface for quite a while, and partly during the troubles down there."

"She did what!" Branwen exploded. "She was on the planet! The stupid headstrong child." She went pale thinking of what could have happened to Samantha.

"Stupid is one word I used," Kimberly agreed, "but calm down for a bit, save it for the girls, I plan on having a 'very' strong chat with Sara- Jayne soon and I was hoping you'd be there to back me up and do the same with Sam?"

"Oh yes definitely." Bran said. "You count on that!" She was fuming.

"Has Sam done anything like this before?" taking a bite from a sandwich she watched Branwen as she obviously contemplated what to do with the teenager.

"Believe me, yes. She always gets into trouble. The child is amazing, I like her a great deal. But sometimes... I think I will have to be a lot tougher on her."

"As I will on Sara, I thought giving her a little trust and freedom was a good thing, but I guess I've a lot to learn about raising a teenager," shrugging, "I'll need to give them both a check up, they went down without any inoculations," she explained, "and there's other concerns... when do you think we should speak with them? Me, I'm more or less ready to do it right after school if you are?"

"Yes, sounds like a good plan. Samantha has been avoiding me, and that is never a good sign. I'm totally with you there."

"Good, will you talk to her parents? I mean, since you know them."

"First I want to talk to her. Then probably I will talk to her parents." Branwen said. She looked at her watch. "Don't have much time left."

"What are you off to next then?"

"Patients." Gwen said simply. "Loads of them."

"Mind if I ask when you plan to relax? And do something for yourself? Every time I've seen you lately you've been terribly busy?"

"That can come when my boss gets back. Hopefully not much longer now. Then I can relax a little." Branwen said.

“When’s he due back then?”

"I'm not sure. It is not as if he keeps me very well up-to-date." She said to her friend.

“Well you need to relax, remember our earlier chat?” she asked solicitously, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

"No. I told you before I will rest when my boss gets back. It is no big deal." She didn't look at her friend.

"It is a big deal! You're in charge of the Marines aboard, that's a lot of responsibility, plus you have your own duties to take care of and believe me when I say I know how involved you can get worrying about other people, plus I've just asked for help with the kids... What else is on your plate?"

"Oh that's about it." Gwen said casually.

"Are you sure?" giving her a direct look.

"Yeah." Branwen said. It was enough what she had going on.

“Okay then, well as I said, if I can help be sure to call okay, in the meantime I’ll get what I need from my shuttle and see you back here later about the girls, just so you know though, I’ve made sure Sara-Jayne can’t do that again, ever.”

"Sounds good." I will see you later. Branwen was already emerged in work again.

“Later then, but remember to eat as well,” she advised as she got up, nudging the salad closer.

"Yes mother." Branwen said smiling. "Shoo!"

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that,” Kimberly objected cheerfully as she got up to leave, “watch it kiddo, you’re only a few years younger than me!” she reminded the marine.

"To me you are ancient." She actually giggled.

“Watch it girl!” Kimberly mock threatened with a stern gaze, “just remember you have a physical coming up soon, I’m sure I can make that interesting.”

"Awwww mommy." Branwen teased.

“This must be what it feels like to have an annoying baby in the house then,” Kimberly teased back from the door, “watch it youngster, or I’ll have you sent to Kindergarden with all the other toddlers to play.” She decided as the door opened.

Seeing her leave Branwen actually felt good. It had been a while since she had even laughed.

“And don’t forget to eat something!” came Kimberly’s disembodied voice from the corridor as the door slid shut.

Branwen just smiled and went back to work.

"The Pain of Words"

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief Tactical Officer

2nd Lieutenant Branwen London
Furies Executive Officer / Psychologist

Bran sat in a corner of the observation deck. She came here a lot lately just sitting in the dark and watching the stars. She selected times that nobody else was around. She didn't like to be around people much at the moment. This was easier, just being alone with her own misery.

Today, however, her wish to be left undisturbed was short lived.

"There should be regulations against pretty girls sitting on their own."

Before she could protest, someone sat next to her on the bench. The starlight revealed a face that she hasn't seen for a long while.

She looked away from him. "Please Saul. I am not in the mood." Bran said softly.

"That I can see.", He said, his tone turning soft. "So what is it that you see out there?", He asked, motioning toward the marvelous dark view outside.

"Nothing. And I like it that way." She was curled into a little ball.

"Bran.", He reached for her, but stop his hand in mid-motion. After all they've been through, touching her won't be a good idea, especially when she was in a clearly vulnerable state. "Don't tell me it's nothing. Why are you depressed? And don't tell me it's me, otherwise I'll just go ahead and throw myself out of the nearest airlock."

"It's not always about you, you know." Was all she wanted to say.

"So what is it about?"

"You are not my boyfriend, so I don't have to tell you." She really wanted to be difficult today.

"You know, Bran, if I was the one who was depressed I know that you wouldn't just let me be."

"No, but it is my profession. You are a spook."

"I'm just someone who cares.", Saul shrugged, and interlaced his fingers behind his head.

To tell the truth, he had no intention of being Branwen's psychologist. All he wanted to do is to tell her that he's back, and see that all was well with her before proceeding to do the same with Nyoko, Nieca, 8-Ball and the other crewmembers he befriended since he came on board.

In Branwen's case, obviously, not all was well. "The truth is, I actually need your professional opinion about a friend of mine. I recently got back from a long leave, and I found her sitting alone gazing at the stars with the most miserable expression imaginable on her face. As a certified psychologist, how do you advise me to help her?"

She gave him a dirty look. "Saul, why don't you go and be with Nara. She is home."

"I thought you said it wasn't about me.", Saul shot back. Nara was in fact the first person he came to see when he got back, even before the debriefing with Captain Henderson. But he had no intention of discussing Nara with Bran. "The fastest way to get rid of me, Bran, is to tell me what the problem is."

"What if it is personal and I don't want to talk about it. Maybe I came here for some peace and quiet. You are not the first one to ask me what is wrong, but I really hope you will be the last one."

"Obviously it's personal, and obviously you came here for peace and quiet.", Saul frowned. "Seeing you like this, I thought you could use a friendly ear. Just wanted to tell you that I'm back, anyway."

"Thank you for telling me."

Saul stood up slowly, and glanced at Bran. The woman looked as pale and worn out as she sounded. Or perhaps, it was just the starlight and the mind of a weary traveler.

He mindlessly patted Bran's hair. "I'll leave you for your peace and quite, then.", He told her, then added with a sly grin, "and be thankful that I can't torture you into telling me what's wrong."

The next moment he was on the ground the sting of the hand she had slapped him with hard, smarting. "You bastard." She hissed.

Saul didn't respond. His face burnt, as if someone attached a photon mine to his cheek and pressed the detonator. Everything around him turned, whirled.

"Naienn.", he cursed. He recalled that Branwen's was quite muscular beneath the lady-like appearance she had, it just never translated in his mind to a threat, until that very moment.

Somewhere among the echoes of pain, he decided to remain on the floor until he comes back to his senses enough to do anything. If he rises now, and the marine decides to give him a second course, he won't be able to defend himself.

Branwen however realizing what she had done, started to cry.

"Bran...", Saul muttered, finally bringing himself to a crouch well outside Bran's reach. Moving his mouth hurt. "What's wrong with you?"

"I am sorry for hitting you." She sniffed. "But you should not tease me with that, that was mean, especially coming from you."

"Tease you with what?", Saul asked, dumbfounded. He wanted to step forward and wipe Bran's tears, but the searing pain which began to spread up toward his temple and down toward the chin told him otherwise.

"You know how… you know torture…. the mission … my dad." She wasn't making much sense.

Saul suddenly felt stupid. He knew very well why Branwen was touchy when it came to torture. He saw her father abuse her with his own eyes, when he found himself in her dream last year. She was only twelve, and he was so intimidating...

"What mission?"

"The mission to the planet were we were taken by the aliens and stuff.' She mumbled with a red head now. "Let me look at your jaw."

Saul instinctively raised his hand, and took a step backwards. "I'll be just fine. If you're talking about what the Galaxy did while I was away, I didn't bring myself up-to-date with recent events. Thought I should see my FRIENDS first. Is that why you're upset? The mission?"

"Yeah." She said. "Don't be a baby, I promise not to hurt you again. Let me have a look okay."

"I don't think so.", He took another step back. "What happened in the mission?"

"We got captured by Hydrans." She didn't come forward. "I promise not to hurt you again. I said I was sorry."

"Hydrans.", Saul repeated dryly.

"Yes, hydrans." Now she did more forward.

She needn't say anything else. Saul saw what the Hydrans were capable of when it came to prisoners. He saw the tanks at Olor 50, saw the Deltan floating in the foul liquid, the cybernetic implants. The thought that Branwen would be victimize by the heartless tripedal bastards made him shudder.

He couldn't think of anything to say that would make her feel better.

"They'll pay.", He finally said. "Let's get out of here, Bran, this place is an invitation for bad thoughts and neither of us can afford bad thoughts right now."

"That's go somewhere else indeed. Maybe sickbay first, to check out I didn't break anything." She blushed. "I really am sorry. You just said the wrong thing at the wrong time."

"My expertise.", Saul tried to chuckle, but it was too painful to be worth it. He didn't want to appear in sickbay after being struck by a woman, but the goal justifies the means and right now the goal was to get Branwen out of solitude and to the company of people.

"No, usually you're very nice." She guided him out.

On their way out, Saul watched Bran's slender back, and couldn't help thinking about Eve.

Was he any better than the Hydran scientists?

"Confessional"

Second Lieutenant Branwen London
CO ad-temp, SFMC Furies Detachment

Second Lieutenant Steven Jonas
SFMC, Furies Detachment

With brief appearances from some of the SFMC Furies 188th TSS Detachment

****

Marine Central Commons,
Deck 16,
USS Galaxy

The Marine Commons was practically empty. The day hadn't begun for the Marines yet. Unlike the various navy departments, the Marines didn't keep regular shifts. They worked and trained regularly, but didn't have the rigors of daily duty shifts. It was better that way. If part of the engine broke, an Engineer could head out from Main Engineering and fix it, but the Marines didn't have such duties aboard the ship. Their purpose was to train and assist with any incidents that occurred that required specialized warfare training. Anything from a full on battle to clandestine operations were fair game for the Furies. It was the way of things and they liked it that way.

It seemed that Tokka Razza, the Gorn-like Basik, was a glutton for punishment. He was here yet again, the fourth or fifth time this week, battling Chuckles at tri-dee chess. And from the looks of things, he wasn't in the best position against the Vulcan. A sudden banging noise, and several loud expletives, emanating from the adjoining Mess told him that Axl was hard at work preparing breakfast for the grunts. Yet again it was probably some lousy concoction of leftovers from the night before, all rolled up into some 'delectible' dish to be served shortly.

Amy VanDuren sat at one of the common tables, pulling her rifle apart. A hard ass if ever there was one in the team, the Private seemed to have a need to clean that rifle every morning. First Platoon was lucky to have her, despite her being a hard ass, as she was one of the best soldiers that the Furies had.

But none of that was why he was here this early. It was half an hour before they had their morning briefing and he had an appointment to keep. Meetings with Councellors were the bane of all Marines. Most of them were fucked up, having seen and done things that made others cower in fear. It was what they did, and no amount of talking to a shrink about it was gonna change that. Heck, knowing what he had previously done allowed Jonas to focus on the real gritty tasks, including the ones where you "Don't Exist", and gave him a sense of empowerment that they could be achieved successfully.

Lieutenant London had an office down a hallway on the far side of the Commons, and he was headed there now. Most meetings would have been during down time during their training sessions but with Lieutenant Baile away, her duties had increased and this was the best time available. The door neared and Jonas felt a pang of nervousness. He'd face a horde of Jem'Hadar soldier any day of the week, even the Borg, compared to what he'd find behind the door. Ghosts of Christmas Past would be coming out of the walls to get him in short order, there was little doubt of that to Jonas.

"That was an illogical move Razza." Chuckles' voice drifted from the Commons. "You have sacrificed a valuable piece."

Jonas couldn't quite hear the response from the Basik, but had no doubt that he was up to something. he was a crafty bastard. He had found that out the hard way during a training session in the holodeck one day. Pressing the buzzer at the door, Steven waited for the Lieutenant to respond.

In short order she replied, "Enter". The door hissed open.

"Ma'am, I'm here for our appointment." Jonas said, pausing a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the brightness of the room. Being so early in the day, Commons wasn't lit fully causing his eyes to strain at the elevated brightness.

"Come in, Lieutenant" Branwen called out.

Jonas stepped into the room. Her desk was situated in one corner, allowing more room for the dreaded couch amongst other possessions that the Lieutenant had decorated her room with. There were no ghosts, no monsters, just a standard office with trinkets and furniture. Jonas sighed in relief. "I hope I find you well, after your ordeal down on the planet that is."

It was something Branwen was struggling with herself. She would probably need some counseling to get the images of the torture out of my mind. But it was not something she wanted to discuss with a patient. It had been drummed into her very early in her studies to keep her private life private.

"It was a difficult time, Lieutenant, but I am coping." She said. "Have a seat, and tell me what I can do for you." She smiled.

"Eh ma'am, it's been a month since I joined the ship and haven't had my initial psych review yet." Jonas smiled, though it may have looked a little to forced. "You've all been busy it seems. Something about the last mission..." Jonas didn't need to finish the sentence. It was clear on her face that it had been a trying time.

"Yes. It has been a very busy time." As she had needed sometime herself to adjust and to digest what had happened to her. "But I have time now."

"Not to be disrespectful to you or your profession ma'am, but I hate these kinds of things. And since the initial psych session is mandatory, I'd like to get it out of the way. I know you had a rough time down there and if you'd like to postpone it..." Jonas left the rest unspoken, allowing the Lieutenant to decide what she wanted to do.

"Lieutenant, I am a Marine. I will handle whatever happened to me off duty. Rest assured that I am fit to talk to you. But if you prefer you are always allowed to talk to the naval shrinks." She said.

"No Ma'am. I'm okay with this arrangement. Where do you want to begin?" Steven asked. He eased himself onto the couch and tried, unsuccessfully, to get comfortable. Giving up on the impossible task, he focused his attention on the Furies XO. She was a striking woman, beautiful and youthful. Jonas doubted she was older that 25, and, as Executive Officer, very young by Marine standards. Most XOs had at least a decade of experience. Still there was obviously something to her to be given the XO spot over some of the longer serving marines. Her dark eyes seemed to have the uncanny ability to bore into your soul and help release the issues that were holding you back. Very appropriate for a Counselor.

Lost in his thoughts he missed what she had said. "Eh, sorry Ma'am, I kinda zoned out there for a moment. Could you please repeat what you just said?"

"Never mind." She said. "I would rather focus on why it is difficult for you to concentrate at the moment." She said looking at him.

"Well, I was just trying to remember if I had ever had such a young CO. Most of the time they were older guys who had been in the Marines for decades." Jonas sighed. "Plus I'm trying to figure out how I managed to end up rescuing a trapped young boy when I should have been rescuing you and the others."

"I am only the XO." She did not know what else to say, because it still baffled her as well being a such a position hardly out of the academy. "Did you save the boy?" Branwen asked him.

Jonas nodded. "Yes.We managed to free the boy. It was lucky that Chief Loret turned up. She was instrumental in the rescue." It was true. Without her it would have been a lot harder to get him out.

"The boy and his friend took off,heading home I think. They barely said a word of thanks." Jonas sighed. "But being Jem'Hadar, I didn't expect much from them anyway."

"It should be enough for you that you did your job, Jonas. That is important. There were others to rescue our party." Branwen smiled.

Steven nodded. "True. And they did a good job. Pity they couldn't find Falkor. He was a good Marine."

"yes." Bran said softly. She took it personally to lose someone under her command.

"So how are you settling in ? Are you making friends already?"

Jonas smiled. "You mean apart from the bunch of apes out there?" He threw a thumb in the direction of the Marine common area.

She grinned back. Glad the mood was a little lighter now. "Yup."

"I haven't really had much time to meet many of the Navy guys.. Seems our new CO has been pushing us pretty hard since leaving Starbase 5." Jonas winked at Branwen. With Baile away she had been in charge for a while now.

She smiled again. "We have to make an impression on the navy guys, Jonas.You guys have been doing great though. And I am sure you had some time."

Jonas moved around a bit, trying to get in a better position. "I met the secuirty officer escorting Chief Loret. Krieghoff I think he said his name was... Now he was a strange guy... Gave me the wierdest of feelings just by being in his presence. And one of the young Jem'Hadar children seemed to be frightened of him, very frightened. I shivered quite badly upon meeting him. And in all my years I'd never felt like that after meeting someone. It just isn't natural."

"Ah Victor." She smiled. "Victor is strange, I am still trying to get to know him myself to be honest."

"It seems thatthe uneasiness that I felt isn't isolated to just me?" It was more rhetorical than a question. Jonas carried on. "I guess the other guys in Security are used to being around him by now."

"Did you meet anyone else?"

"I've met a few people here and there. Mostly while spending some time in Ten-Forward. Or while jogging or swimming. I did meet the Chief of Operations while on the rescue mission. Nice lady. Seemed a bit distant and aloof I thought. Probably had had a visit by Victor on his way out of the cave."

She smiled. "And here in the Marine Corps? I know it takes a while to make friends though."

"Well, they all seem friendly enough... And work well together, from what I've seen of their training sessions." Jonas paused. "I still get an uneasy feeling from having all those Jem'Hadar onboard. It creeps me out."

"You are probably not the only one. But we have to learn to live with it. I trust you can be professional around them?" Again she was more the XO then the therapist asking that question.

Jonas nodded. "Yes Ma'am. You have nothing to worry about. Besides, I doubt any of them will venture down our way."

"Not if they are wise." Bran grinned. "you will fit in here, Jonas. Give it some time."

"Yes Ma'am." Jonas grinned back. "I hope so."

Jonas coughed. "Ma'am, If I could speak freely?"

Taking her nod as an agreement, Jonas began bringing up a concern he had had

since returning from the planet. "I haven't read any of the reports from people on the planet, but from what I've heard some of the grunts saying, a lot of them got caught with their pants down, so to speak. Perhaps we need to up our training requirements in the areas of Observation and Reaction times. To try and avert this from happening again." He had gone off track from the Psych review, but thought he should raise the issue.

"We definitely have to. The boss is not going to be happy." She cringed at the thought of having to face Baile. But did not see what she could have done better.

"No, I can't see him being happy with it. But if we can get the right procedures and training is put in place before he gets back on active duty, then it might soften the blow a bit." Steven didn't really know Baile, and couldn't predict how he would react to the events on the planet. Still it couldn't hurt to try.

"Yes." Outwardly Branwen was completely calm. Inside there was turmoil, there was too much to do. Talking to traumatised people while she was traumatised herself took up a lot of her time and energy. And then there was the running of the department. Needless to say she didn't get much sleep.

"I'm sure you have a lot to do today, so perhaps we should end the session now. Besides, I'm sure you'd like me to finish that report on the expansion of the Marine Barracks that is due." In reality, he had completed the report the day before and all that was needed was to send it on to her. He just hadn't had time to do that, and he was sure that the CO had a lot on her mind and would welcome the peace of this Marine vacating her office.

"Yes, that would be fine." She smiled at him.

"Chance encounter"

Raynor
Branwen

She was late again, so Branwen was running through the corridors. Her two duties took her all over the ship, and she had planned to little time between them to get from A to B, and finally her tiredness was starting to catch up with her.

He was late again, so Raynor was walking through the corridors in no particular rush in the wrong section of the ship, not heading to Intelligence... He completely awake, yet appeared to be completely lost. He looked this way often, so no one could tell that he knew where he was going... some would see this as paranoid behaviour... Raynor saw it as a jest.

He saw a massive turn coming up and heard hurried steps... he decided to walk in that direction any ways... fully ready for the cliche collision. The

collision came. They hit each other with Branwen at full speed. Her papers went flying through the corridor. The young redhead began to curse in her native language as she started to pick them up.

Raynor picked up a few of the papers and handed it to her... "Sorry about that... are you alright?" he asked, as he made a quick glance trying to gather as much information as possible by her appearance alone... a marine Lieutenant... probably not too highly experienced... he guessed by the way she carried herself... and she probably got an unhealthy amount of stress. He tried to guess at what as he waited for her to take the papers...

"I am fine." She said still preoccupied. "Thank you." Branwen added belatedly.

"You sure? You seem distracted..." Raynor was trying to place her face... he had seen it before but where... then it hit him... on the rescue mission.

He decided to ask again more softly.

Branwen did not recognise him. "Why does everybody seemed to worry if I am okay. I don't even know you." She grumbled.

"Being the victim of an enemy test tube generally does that... and rumors spread quickly on any given ship in the fleet," Raynor stated. He knew this

from his own personal experience. But he dispelled that feeling within about three hours by punching the captain during his 'debriefing'. But the reason he was concerned he supposed was that he was of those people dispite his best efforts could not remain indifferent to others probelms.

Her eyes narrowed. "They are gossiping about me." She blushed wanting to get away from him as soon as possible.

"No they are gossiping about Hydran Test Subjects... they don't seem to actually come up with any names," Raynor reassured her. "But I can see the lack of sleep that comes from nightmares in your eyes, the questioning of what is the value of your life if that can be done to you, and the fear of what you think you've become... I've seen on my own face plenty of times. You seemed stressed beyond the average day to day hussle... So I ask again, are you OK?"

"Promise you won't tell anyone it was me." She said. "And of course I am fine, I am a marine. Hell it was a piece of cake." Her smile did not reach her eyes.

Raynor wouldn't have believed that statement even if he wasn't a telepath or someone who could read body language. But its not like he could very well force her to admit what he knew she was going through so he did the only thing he could do...

"Not a whisper, I promise..." Raynor said with a serious tone about him. "Ensign Zev Raynor by the way..." he held out his hand.

After a little reluctance she shook his hand. "Branwen, Branwen London. Thank you for helping me pick my stuff up." The confident smile was back in place. "It was nice meeting you."

"Same..." Raynor smiled. "Now if you want get wherever you going quickly, I'd suggest a site to site transport. Or steroids..." he joked. His internal thoughts played with possiblity of checking in on Branwen later on... after all the incident had just happened and its impossible to tell if

this was going to last... long term...

He just wasn't someone who could watch others endure pain needlessly. He hated that part of about himself, not because he hated helping people, but by the fact it was needed at all.

"Steriods don't sound bad, but I guess I have to stick to running." She said. "I really have to go. Maybe we can meet again another time?"

"Sure, call me whenever you feel like it..." Raynor said. "My door is usually open..."

"Counsellors Make The Worst Clients!"

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer

Lieutenant Branwen London
Furies Counsellor

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

Wandering down one of the many faceless corridors of the starship Kimberly checked door numbers for a while until she found the one she wanted, tapping the door chime she waited patiently for Branwen to answer. She hadn't seen much of the young counsellor since the Jem'Hadar planet, and was curious and a little concerned about how she was doing.

Branwen had been in bed. Not that she was sleeping much, she was sleeping very badly since the whole incident. She could not put it behind her. She had not bothered Commander Dallas with it, knowing the woman was very busy. And besides others needed help more than she did. She was a trained therapist and should be able to help herself. Others would also probably consider it trivial what happened to her.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes Branwen opened the door. "Hello." She blushed with embarrassment, the doctor had seen her and her most vulnerable. "Is there an emergency?"

"Hi," Kimberly said as the door opened, "No, no emergency, just came by to see how you're getting on?" she asked softly.

"Oh me? I am fine. You saw that I was not seriously wounded." Yet somehow she did not manage a smile.

Nodding, “True, but I just wondered if you wanted to chat?” Having been where she’d been she had some idea of the aftermath.

"You pity me don't you?" Branwen said. "You don't have to, I have been through worse." She kept her voice friendly.

Raising an eyebrow Kimberly looked a little confused, “Pity?... I just came by to talk is all, you of all people should appreciate the need to just gossip once in a while,” she said with a small smile. While Branwen might not want to talk about the incident, that didn’t stop the young CMO from wanting to see how she was coping.

"Come in then." No need to show the naval officer what a nervous wreck she was. Crying at everything and jumpy.

“Thanks,” Kimberly replied with a smile, casting a quick eye around the room as she entered she picked a couch to perch on, “so, what’s new?” she asked.

"Not much. I don't have much time to do anything else but work. Baile still isn't back, so I'm doing two jobs."

"You of all people should know that isn't good, you've got to make some time for yourself, have you looked in a mirror lately? You look terrible," Kimberly said bluntly, but cheerfully, meaning it humorously.

"Look who's talking. You look like death warmed over yourself." Branwen shot back. She really didn't want to think about what had happened. "I am a marine. I can cope."

"Well that's nice of you to say," Kimberly replied warmly, "but forgive me if I say that you of all people should know better? You wanna go get drunk?"

Branwen hesitated. She didn't drink much, couldn't take alcohol that well really, and she was a little bit afraid of losing control. "I don't know, Kimberley. I don't have much time."

"You have time to relax," Kimberly insisted as she took the young marines hand, "c'mon, get changed an' I'll buy you lunch at least...?"

"Okay then, just for half an hour." Branwen went into her bedroom and came out ten minutes later dressed casually.

Leading the way, Kimberly half dragged half pushed the seemingly half awake young counsellor to the turbolift, ~ Geez, I hope she doesn’t fall asleep in her pizza! ~ she thought, “So, whaddya like to eat?” he asked as they got on the lift.

“Dunno.” Branwen said flatly.

“Terran? Vulcan? Tellarite? Klingon?” She listed back, “C’mon, you gotta like something?”

“You pick something.” Branwen leant against the wall of the lift.

Looking at the semi conscious girl before her Kimberly thought for a moment as the lift slowed to a halt, ~ Okay! ~ she decided, “C’mon then,” taking Branwen’s arm she guided her off the lift and into the busy cantina, looking around she spied a table and steered Branwen over to it, “How does Pizza sound?” she asked the tense young counsellor.

“Da yawn.” Branwen said, heading for the first chair she saw.

Looking confused Kimberly thought for a moment, then, tapping her commbadge she called the computer for a language update to her commbadge, ~ Thousands of languages on file, and she picks one to speak not on my comms! ~ she griped, letting the computer work she let Branwen drop into a seat. Waving a waiter over she spoke up as he approached, “Diavolo Pizza, large and a large jug of iced Therellian Mineral water.” She ordered.

Letting the waiter depart Kimberly turned to the marine and looked her up and down, her tense but weary frame was slouched inelegantly in the chair, her red eyes half open, and her hair obviously something just tended to so it was ‘out of the way’ was all saying one thing to Kimberly… ‘Overwork’

“So,” she started loudly, hoping to startle Branwen into a semblance of coherence, ”What’s new?”

“New?”

“New, as in, what’re you doing, how’s life, the family, friends… anything?” Kimberly asked, already wondering if a shot of Nitro would help here.

“Oh, okay.”

“USS Galaxy to Ms Branwen, please relay your hyperspace co-ordinates!” Kimberly asked, pretty sure now that while Branwen’s body was here, her mind was blatantly elsewhere.

“Huh?”

Snapping her fingers in front of Branwens eyes Kimberly held up a couple of fingers, “How many fingers?” she asked, actually wondering if a sedative and a biobed were needed here so she could get some sleep.

“You are weird.” Branwen started to rise, “I have to get back to the office.”

Putting her hand on Branwen’s shoulder Kimberly pushed gently downwards, “Whoa, just worried is all, you seemed to be light years away, half asleep an’ everything… you feeling okay?”

“Sure, I actually do have to get ready, I’m drilling my soldiers this afternoon, I have to change.”

“And how will it look if you collapse from exhaustion and lack of nourishment before them?” Kimberly asked, bringing her other hand up above table level she showed Branwen a small medical tricorder, “low blood sugar level, low cytokines level, low serotonin levels… you need something to eat,” she offered sagely, “you’re wandering around half awake, I bet you don’t even realise you spoke some odd language to me earlier.”

Branwen gave her a quizzical look, “I just spoke English to you, I’ll order a sandwich to take out and I have some sugary treats, and I thought you were here as a friend.” She started to rise again.

“I am here as a friend,” Kimberly assured her, “can’t I worry a little when I see someone obviously overworking?” she asked as she put her hand again gently on Branwens shoulder and pushed down gently again, “you need a good meal, a sit down and a chat, in standard please, not in…” tapping her commbadge she spoke up, “computer, what language was that?” she asked.

[Terran… Welsh Language.] It replied… [Translation of requested quote is ‘Very Good’] It supplied.

Raising an eyebrow Kimberly looked to Branwen, “You’re Welsh then?” she asked innocently.

“Get your hand off me!” she brusquely swatted the hand off. “I need to go wash before I work out.”

Looking a little hurt Kimberly sat back, “I was just trying to be friendly,” she offered, “you just looked like a break was needed is all… I’ll see you later I guess, around the time you pass out from hunger.”

“I won’t.” she came to her feet, standing a little awkward, the starting to move off.

Watching Branwen walk off Kimberly bit her lip for a second then got up and followed, “Hey,” she called as she got out into the corridor, “one other thing,” she asked as she followed the marine to the turbolift. Ms Widdlestein, you’re her mentor, correct?”

“Yeah.” Branwen said. “Why?”

“Who do I see if she gets into trouble, you or her parents?”

Branwen sighed, “What did she do this time?”

“Well that’s kinda what I wanted to talk about over lunch, not on the move. If you’re free later I’ll be in the cantina after your shift… Sound okay?”

“Could we talk somewhere else? My office maybe.” Bran asked.

“What’s wrong with the cantina, it’s away from work.”

Branwen hesitated, “It’s just that everyone’s looking at me, and I don’t like that right now.”

“Looking at you?”

“Don’t play stupid, you know how dirty I am.” She slipped into the elevator.

~ Oh! ~ Following Branwen onto the lift Kimberly made sure no-one followed them on, “Mind if I ask a personal question?”

Branwen hesitated, “Depends.”

Shrugging, “Since Junction, have you, spoken to anyone about what happened?” she asked tentatively.

The young marine looked at the ground, “I made an appointment with my mentor, but we are all terribly busy, and since I can look after myself there’s no rush.”

Sighing softly Kimberly shook her head, ~ Doctors, Counsellors and Vulcans, they all make the absolute worst patients! ~ she remembered, “Your mentor is probably a good person to talk to, but since she is also the person you discuss your work and client issues with, and since she’s also apparently busy right now, have you thought about making an appointment with someone else? You out of everyone should appreciate the need to get things off your chest so to speak.”

“We’re all busy. So I kind of talk to myself, it’s not too bad.” She smiled for the first time, but it did not reach her eyes.

“Well, talking to yourself isn’t a bad thing, I’ve found you can have some good conversations that way,” Kimberly agreed with a grin of her own, “however, there is one counsellor aboard who does have time, I can promise you she has plenty of time.”

“Then she must be doing something wrong.” The welsh girl said.

“Not really, she just has another job as well, you may know her, she used to be the Chief Counsellor of the Relentless, before she came here to be the CMO,” Kimberly reminded her cheerfully.

“Oh.” Branwen thought for a second, “but we are friends, and I value our friendship. Believe me there are people who need help a lot more than I do. This is my stop.”

“Mine too,” Kimberly said insincerely as she followed the Marine, who was still walking awkwardly, “and I’ll get around to them later, however, I can be your friend, and your doctor and your counsellor… if you like. Regs are a little, flexible as you know, and if you valued our friendship, young as it is, you wouldn’t leave a perfectly good pizza to cool down just so you can run away.”

“I’m not running away, I don’t like pizza that much. And we had this conversation a while ago when we were discussing me becoming your counsellor. As you remember we decided against it as we wanted to be friends.” With a little smile Branwen entered the gym, immediately her whole countenance changed, she walked straighter and looked much more alert.

Watching from the door Kimberly shook her head, “Branwen, the offer is there, I’d like help, if you want me to,” ~ Ah well, I tried ~ “anyway, I’ll leave you to shout at your minions, just remember to eat something!” she reminded her.

“Yes mother. Come and see me later about Sam.” With that she walked off to the showers.

~ Mother indeed! ~

*Takes place immediately after "Pain of Words" (The one where Branwen slaps Saul...)*

“Conditional Healing…” Part 1

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief Tactical Officer

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer

Lieutenant Branwen London
Furies Counsellor

Main Sickbay – Deck 11

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

Branwen was looking rather stricken as she walked into sickbay with the Intel officer. "Hello Kimberly." She said. "I need you to check out Mr Bental to see if he is okay."

She was closely followed by Saul, who Kimberly already met when she gave him a physical check-up, shortly after coming on board. The left side of his face was swollen, and he seemed a little dazed. Still, he was smirking. "Ah, Doctor, the things I do to see you again."

Branwen looked disapproving at his flirting, but didn't say anything.

"Hello to the both of you," Kimberly greeted them warmly, smiling at the nurse she had been talking to, "we'll carry this on later," indicating a bio bed as the nurse left, "well, what've you two been up to then?" she asked as she plucked a tricorder from its charging slot on the bed.

Saul rested his hand on Bran's shoulder as she began opening her mouth.

"Bran made a sharp movement just as I turned the corner, catching me square in the face," He said with amusement, "I think she's more shaken than I am!"

Branwen gave him a grateful look for not telling the truth.

"Well have a seat and we'll see just what she's done," Kimberly offered, calling up Bental's file she scanned it quickly for anything she might need to know then raised the tricorder, "Have a seat Branwen, you might as well put your feet up if you're going to wait," she offered, "so, a few more details if you would, exactly where did Branwen connect with you? Chin, cheek? And does it still hurt?"

"I'm not sure. It was quite a surprise for both of us," Saul responded. It wasn't a lie. Neither he nor Branwen knew that she was going to slap him a second before she did.

"I think just below the cheekbone," He added, "but half of my face hurts.

That was an understatement, of course. His face was still burning, searing with pain, and somehow felt like it was disconnected from the rest of his body. However, like most guys in his shoes, Saul didn't want it to look like a girl whooped his ass.

"How about you?" Doctor Burton asked Branwen as she scanned Saul, "If you connected this solidly by accident, how's your hand, or elbow?" she asked.

"Ehrm, fine." Bran said blushing and looking the other way. She was not a very good liar.

Raising an eyebrow as she scanned Saul's face she turned slightly, "Come on Branwen, 'fess up," she asked sternly, "you couldn't have cracked his Zygomatic arch like this and cracked his cheekbone without a pretty solid swing..." turning back to Saul, "this'll take a moment to fix," she said simply, "would you like something for the pain?"

"I didn't break anything did I... I am so sorry Saul." Bran said for the third time.

"Break, well, the Zygomatic arch is more dislocated, but the cheek bone, yup, that's broken," she informed the obviously crestfallen young woman, "if this was an accident, all I can say is you're going to have to be a 'lot' more careful in the future!"

Bran bit her lip. "To be honest, I lost my temper." She mumbled.

"Thank goodness we have the same insurance compa-- what?"

"So, let me get this straight, Branwen connected with you as you came round the corner, both of you surprised... But you lost your temper..." looking to Branwen, "Well, someone want to fill me in?" Kimberly asked as she swapped the tricorder for a hypo, "this my hurt a little as I set the bones," she informed Saul, "so lay back please and I'll numb the area," selecting an local anaesthetic she gave him a quick shot and swapped the hypo for an osteo regenerator.

"It's kind of private." Bran said. "I am sorry, Saul. I cannot let you lie for me. It was my fault. I am not a coward." she said to him.

Saul stared at Bran, horrified by both her words and the treatment he was about to go through. At least he will have something to concentrate about while Burton does her bone magic.

That's what you get for trying to help a lady after swearing you'll never help her again, he reckoned.

She saw his stare and suddenly she couldn’t keep from crying. “I am sorry. I always do everything wrong when I am around you. Please don’t be so angry at me, Saul.”

Sighing Kimberly shook her head, “Branwen… an accident is one thing, but you’ve just told me you lost your temper and struck a superior officer, you are aware I have to report this, even if I don’t want to! If Lieutenant Bental chooses to, Kol could instigate courts martial proceedings you realise!”

"No! Kimberly please don't! I would lose my job. Baile would never trust me again!" Her voice sounded shrill and nearly hysterical. Not like her normal calm or light tone. "I will never do it again. Oh god." She came to her feet ready to flee.

“Will you relax,” Kimberly said sharply, looking around sickbay to see who was looking, “don’t you know the regs? Striking a senior officer is an offence, but if the Lieutenant here is okay with it then we can probably bury it, but you and me are going to have a chat about this, and soon! Okay! And I mean a friendly chat ‘and’ a professional one.” Looking to Saul, "Ball's in your court I guess?"

Bran was walking in circles like a puppet on speed. "I was off duty, he was off duty, he said something really mean, I was just tired. Please don't destroy my career as well it is the only thing I have left. I thought you were my friend, Kimberly. I told you as a friend.

Saul flailed his arms, trying to signals his opinion of the quickly deteriorating situation. However, being in the middle of a bone restoration process prevented him from speaking, and so he wasn't able to contribute in any sensible way.

“Will you ‘Relax’!” Kimberly said, grabbing Branwen suddenly she stopped her by a chair and eased her into it, whether she wanted to sit or not, “I ‘am’ your friend,” she assured her as she returned to Saul, “but even though you’re not on duty ‘I’ am, now, as I said we just need to work this out, it shouldn’t be a problem, but we need some input from our silent third party here,” focussing the regenerator on Saul’s cheek again she carried on, “who will be able to speak as soon as I reverse the anaesthetic that’s locked his jaw, now, just sit there and relax or I’ll ‘give’ you something to help you relax, you’re wound up so tight right now I could dump the warp core and power the ship with you I think!” Trying to concentrate on her work she checked the bed readouts to make sure the bone was knitting properly and correctly.

Branwen sat meekly, staring at the floor she started to bite her nails. Not that there was much left of them by now.

Looking briefly at the worried Welsh girl Kimberly returned to her work and after a moment soon had the Lieutenants Zygomatic arch and cheek bone restored, they would be tender for a while, but the worst of it was over, fortunately none of the damage was major, but still, to crack a bone took quite a punch. Giving Bental a shot to give him feeling back she patted his shoulder, “Give it a moment and you’ll be fine, just don’t sit up too quickly or we’ll be picking you up off the floor, your balance might be off for a bit until the drugs are neutralised,” she warned him, going over to Branwen now she sat beside her and put her arm around her, “You should stop biting your nails, it’s not good you know.”

“Neither-is-making-sharp-movements-into-other-people's-face." Saul spoke slowly, getting adjusted to the new sensation in his mouth. He moved his jaw, checking the entire range of motions. It seemed fine.

"Of course," he continued, slightly more confident, "there will be no formal charges, as I don't want to see Kol more than I absolutely need to. However, there are three conditions."

~ Only three? ~ Kimberly thought a little sarcastically Branwen just paled and nodded.

"Condition one – you'll never make 'sharp movements' when you're near me again. Just to prevent the possibility of another 'accident'."

"How many times can I say I am sorry. Of course it will never happen again." The Marine said.

"Good. Condition two - and it's a difficult one, especially here on the USS Rumour Mill – this story doesn't leave this room. As far as I'm concerned, this incident is top-secret, need to know basis. You CAN keep a secret, right Bran?" He glared at the marine counsellor.

Simply nodding, Kimberly looked to Branwen for agreement

"Yes, of course I can. I agree." Branwen said.

Saul rolled his eyes. Bran broke so easily and told the Doc about what really happened, he had no doubt that she'll have a hard time with condition two. He also hoped that Doctor Burton caught the wind of his intention and will keep what happened to herself.

And if she didn't get the subtle hint, he'll just have to bribe her.

“Now, the Doctor did such a splendid work," He beamed at Kimberly, "That I'm letting her choose condition three."

"Oh that's an easy one," Kimberly assured the two, "Branwen and I are going to sit down and have a chat, a long one, in my office later today, and probably the first of many," she assured the Marine.

Branwen flushed. But there was nothing she could do about it, she had been outmanoeuvred so she simply nodded. Hitting people she loved was not a good sign.

As she looked at Saul. "I hope in time you can forgive me, and like me a little bit again. I promise not to bother you again, Lieutenant."

"That brings me to condition four,” Saul said hastily, "Don't 'Lieutenant' me, Bran. You were upset, I hit a soft point, you snapped. Happens. Feel free to bother me as much as you want."

As long as you don't bother my face with your fist, he added mentally.

"You won't be afraid of me? Maybe it is better if I just stayed away from everybody off duty." She came to her feet again. "I will be here later to talk, Kimberley. I promised. I will be in immediately after my shift."

Tugging Branwen back into her seat before she even had the chance to stand Kimberly shook her head, “Sure, right after I check you, you must pack a mean right hook to crack bone like that, so just satisfy your friends concern and let me give your hand a quick scan, okay?” looking to Saul Kimberly smiled slightly, “Thank you Lieutenant,” she said with a touch of warmth in her voice, “swing by tomorrow and see me for a follow up if you would, but we’re more or less done, if you experience any discomfort though comm me immediately and come back, okay?”

"Sure thing." Saul sent a crooked smile toward the Doctor. He took an unsteady step, then began to pace toward sickbay's exit with greater confidence. As he passed by Bran, his fingers fluttered on the marine's shoulder momentarily. Hopefully, she'll realize that he's not angry, just a little concerned about his reputation.

"I'm fine. I already told you, no harm done." Branwen tried to get out from under it.

“Hey, who’s the Doctor here?” picking up a nearby tricorder she unclipped the scanner, “this’ll only take a moment, please.”

Branwen grumbled but she could not get out of this.

OOC - Takes place right after: Relationship's Backpay

"The Measurements of Love"

By: Flight Officer Ember Lansky
Pilot Ayden O'Connor

===--

After the holodeck, Ember and Ayden made their way towards his quarters where she saw his living area, kitchen, bedroom... they hadn't gotten much further than that. Articles of uniform, clothing, and undergarments were carelessly laid across the floor in a haphazard path towards the bed, from which now only soft moans and tender sighs could escape the layers of swaying bed sheets.

Hours later, the two lovers finally emerged from those ruffled sheets into a intimately, and mutually satisfied embrace. Ayden's arm laid across the back of Ember's neck, which was nestled comfortably upon his chest. His fingertips brushed along her damp skin in a fashion that occasionally sent an invigorating tickle down her body, each occasion making him chuckle as she would squirm slightly.

It was the most amazing moment in his life; everything felt right. For once, he felt that there was nothing that could hold him back from saying what he had been yearning to for so long. "I love you..." he cooed softly into her ear before placing a soft kiss upon the side of her head.

Ember experienced contentment in a way she had never felt before. With him so close to her, their bodies touching and intimately connected, the feelings for him that rose up inside her were inexpressible. But for all that she had given, despite the walls that she had tried to dismantle for him, hearing the three words – that promise, involuntarily made her bristle. It was barely noticeable, just a mere moment of tenseness; and she hated herself for it.

It shouldn't have been there, but it was. It was such a huge step that she had to make – from full defensiveness to complete vulnerability. She couldn't. She couldn't remember the last time she had uttered her love for another person, couldn't remember if she ever had. Maybe in another lifetime, when her world hadn't been completely turned around.

"Me too," She said softly, lifting her head up to kiss him tenderly, hoping he understood.

Ayden laid his head back against the pillow, squeezing Ember's shoulder for some reassurance. For some reason, he couldn't get this silly grin off his face, but he felt like the happiest man in the world. He was completely content to just lay there with her for hours, just talking. As unrealistic as it might have seemed only hours ago, he finally had the woman of his dreams.

"I never thought this would happen..." he replied thoughtfully, tilting his head to look down at her, while she looked up at him with this cute little posture. "... us finally being steady."

She smiled wryly, closing her eyes as her hand trailed large circles on his chest, her fingertips brushing against his skin tenderly. "Me neither, not in a million years," She told him honestly, but her words had far more implications than just the two of them. "If you asked me last week, if I would have gone steady with anyone…" She chuckled. Her laugh was soft and throaty. "I would have thought you were crazy and socked you."

Ayden grinned, enjoying her touch. "And now?"

She was quiet, not answering for a few moments. Even though she knew it was the truth in her heart, it was not so easy to verbalize that she, Ember Lansky, and him, Ayden O'Connor, were steady, a pair. "I'll still sock you," She teased, scrunching up her nose at him playfully. "You'll deserve it if you asked that question of me now."

Ayden chuckled, tilting his head enough to give her a soft kiss to her scrunched up nose. "But it might be fun..." he joked sarcastically, almost feeling ready enough to take this on to a physical encounter once again. He dropped his hand down past her waist, stroking the length of her thigh playfully.

It would only be their third time in the evening, and with as many months of pent up sexual frustration that at least he had, it certainly would be welcome.

His touch was beginning to stir the tendrils of desire within her, yet again. But it wasn't like it had to be easy. *That* would take the fun out of the equation. Looking up at him, she gave him a lazy, seductive smile. "Why, is that a challenge?" She asked, her legs moving together to gently clamp his hand.

"Maybe" Ayden grinned, admiring this woman for her playfulness. Even if they spent the rest of their lives together he very much doubted that sex, let alone the more meaningful aspects of their relationship would ever get boring. While he drew in for a kiss, he freed his fingertips enough to move in a flurry of motion along her thigh, tickling her as best he could.

As she started laughing, trying to squirm away he quickly laid his body ontop of her in order to pin her down. As soon as he had her, he moved both hands onto her hips, continuing to amuse himself with her laughter. The grin on his face grew wider with every second, but he knew that with Ember he wouldn't have an easy time keeping the advantage.

He was right. Ember wasn't about to concede defeat so easily. The moment he decided to play rough, the languid laziness she was indulging in vanished, and she was all ready to fight it out. She grinned, struggling hard against the weight of his body. She might not be as strong, but she did have a few sneaky tactics up her sleeve. Hooking her leg over his, and unleashing a sudden spurt of energy, she gained the leverage to flip herself over, with him lying beneath her. She couldn't wipe the self-satisfied smirk off her face as her hands pressed against his arms, locking them. "Much better," She winked.

Ayden struggled for a moment, but then realized that he rather enjoyed her on top at the moment. Taking a moment to enjoy her delicious physic, he relaxed his muscles while his eyes returned to hers. The sensation of her warm body pressing against his was invigorating. He felt his arousal rise sharply, wanting so much to enter her again. A broad smile escaped his lips, "I let you win." He lied.

She l aughed, rolling her eyes playfully at him. "Yea right. You're a sore loser, and you just gotta admit that," She joked, giving him a mock punch on the shoulder. But whichever the case, it was clear she enjoyed being exactly where she was, with him pinned down – and for the moment, unable to retaliate. She wasn't oblivious to his state of arousal, but she was deliberately dragging it out with banter, prolonging his 'agony'. "Hmm… you know, I think I could really get used to this position of power," She said slowly with a grin.

Ayden chuckled, wrestling with her for enough to get a hold of her hands. Even still it was a stalemate. "Hmm... I think I like it too, a woman on top is always nice."

She was feisty. That, with her determination and her willingness to 'play dirty', it wasn't proving simple for him to regain any ounce of advantage. When he once again decided to stop struggling, she pressed down hard on his wrists, as though telling him to just suck it in and stay still. Then, with that mischievous smile on her face, she bent over and kissed him lightly on his lips, her tongue grazing across his jaw. "Of course you would like it, wouldn't you…" She whispered.

Ayden could only grin, not minding the playful determination from Ember one bit. He kept his eyes locked into hers, despite the sheer beauty of her physical self staring right at him. The sheets had been knocked off the bed, and there was nothing to protect their nudity. He loved it, he loved her. He wanted her, now.

She was well aware, which made it more fun delaying it. She didn't stop the game she was playing, gently brushing feather-light kisses and tongue down his neck, then back up again. The unfortunate consequence of whatever 'sweet torture' she was pulling on him though, was that *she* was aroused too. And getting increasingly more so. Her grip of her hands on his wrists loosened gradually. When she finally locked her lips with his again, the slow dance of the seductress was already disappearing, the kiss growing more urgent, more wanting.

Ayden felt her gyration as it consumed him, his free wrists now wrapped around the small of her back, while he moved in tandum to her motions. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the fullness of how he felt while inside of her before opening again, watching the woman he loved. Slowly, the intensity of their movement grew as it had before, yet no less invigorating.

Sliding his hands lower, he gripped her lightly, rocking her forward and backward with increasing pace and desire. Her hands moved around him, then onto her own body, returning to his in a way that surged his desire further.

Ember arched her back, moving as close as she could possibly to him as the raw sensations gripped her in a place beyond thought. Having him inside her – that feeling of pure completion and rightness eluded description. It was not easy to understand, but for the first time, being with a man didn't just fill her up physically, but filled her heart to the brim with overflowing emotions as though it would burst. And it did explode, when they rode to climax and found release from the building tempo in a shattering peak that left her weak in the knees.

Breathing deeply and heavily, she eased her body down and laid her head on his chest, their legs intertwining in an embrace that had not yet broken. "You take my breath away, Ayden," She confessed softly, that admittance probably coming as close as she possibly could at that moment to the profession of love he had made only minutes earlier.

Ayden chuckled, allowing his breathing to return to a steady tempo again. To be truthful he was worn out, and didn't even figure his odds of being able to stand let alone move for several hours were that great. He pulled his arm around her and brought her as close to him as he could, feeling warm and as happy as he could ever be. "Mmm... that's my line." He laughed lightly, overtaken by exhaustion. Placing a soft kiss on her forehead, he listened as Ember's breathing slowed down into slumber, before slumber found him as well.

"Recognizing Diversity: Part I"

By: Pilot Ayden O'Connor & Ensign T'Rei

===---

Ayden was in what he would say to be somewhat of a rush on his way back to ten-forward, realizing that he had left his PADD next to one of the booths. He couldn't believe that he had even forgotten it, mentioning the fact that he had been off tempo ever since the rescue mission. Something just wasn't settling, and he was more forgetful, and more clumsy than ever before.

It was like he was in a constant daze from which he couldn't free himself of, even with his booming relationship with Ember. A woman he had chased for months had finally surrendered to her own feelings for him, making the last several days more interesting than ever before. It felt great to finally be steady with someone, but for some reason it wasn't helping his dwindling sense of focus.

T'Rei had finished with all the required chores involving straightening out her quarters. It took longer than expected, due to the fact that the Ensign was rather obsessive with her belongings. At the present time, she was bored and felt as if some people observation might be a nice pursuit to undertake. Grabbing a padd with some data on it, she headed out the door and sought the entrance to Ten-Forward.

Upon entering, her eyes scanned an appropriate booth. Walking over, she placed her padd on the table, headed to the bar, and ordered her favorite Terran coffee. Once the drink was cradled in her hands, she meandered over to the booth, placed the coffee down, and picked up her padd.

Ayden moved through double doors into a busy ten-forward lounge, he made his way through the busy crowds until he arrived at the booth where someone had already taken their seat. Worst still, she was reviewing *his* PADD. Approaching quickly, he stopped next to the booth and cleared his throat a bit before speaking. "Excuse me."

Her eyes raised upwards to catch a someone interested gaze of a crew member. "Yes?" T'Rei answered simply.

Ayden gestured to the small PADD with a polite smile, "Hi, I'm pretty sure that's mine... I accidently left it behind."

"This padd is under my ownership." Lowering her glance, she located the runaway padd that was now captured. Handing it to him, she responded. "I believe this was what you were looking for?"

Ayden felt a little silly for not taking a look around first, but shrugged it off as a simple mistake; the least of his worries right now. He took the PADD and hand and rose it up, "Thanks... sorry about that." He took a moment to examine the young woman sitting on his former booth, realizing that the way she talked seemed a bit... off. He quickly checked her ears, and verified that she wasn't at least a vulcan.

"I have been assigned to the Galaxy as a security officer. I am called T'Rei." Inwardly, she sighed. It was not logical that everyone checked her ears for points. At this rate, T'Rei was seriously contemplating cosmetic surgery so she resembled a Vulcan instead of a Terran. That, or taking voice inflection classes so it appeared that she knew how to express emotion. Reaching out, she grabbed his had and shook it up and down in customary greeting. She waited for the next obvious line of questioning. "Oh, you don't look like a Vulcan...or oh, what an interesting name...or, oh can you mind meld?" Holding his gaze with her emerald eyes, she patiently waited for a response.

Ayden chuckled for a moment before gesturing whether or not he could take a seat. It was kind of funny since he had just left it only a few minutes ago, but that was before he had someone to converse with. "Umm... well how have you been adjusting to the ship?" He started off with, even while he was curious about her background, he could see it in her eyes that she was expecting that line of questioning right away, meaning that she probably got it often. At least this way, he could set himself apart from the others.

She motioned for him to take a seat, and he did. It would be interesting. He had not started off with the typical questions....which had her off quilter for a mere second. "I don't adjust, I just do. I have been trained for my assignment on board the Galaxy, and that's what I'm doing. If one is trained properly, no adjustment is needed. Do you agree?"

For a moment he started to wonder if he should warn T'Rei about Ember, knowing how much of a blast his girlfriend would have if his suspicions were right. A few of his friends had spent a lot of time on Vulcan, or other alien worlds, him included, so he figured this was some sort of cultural assimilation. Hence why he never went to Vulcan.

Of course, then again... she could just be having a bad day.

T'Rei could tell what was eating at him. His features portrayed that he was interested in getting to know her, even if it was to gain information and then run to tell everyone that a Terran was pretending to be a Vulcan. She opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it. "If I tell you what you want to know, can you keep it just between us?" If word got out around the ship, especially security, it would be a game that it was in the Academy and in primary school. Let's see what we can do to get some emotion out of the ice queen. Ice queen....that name brought up some memories. She never let them win....she had been close a few times, but was able to control her emotions until she was alone. Thank the gods for holoprograms and great counselors.

Ayden looked at her curiously, moreso into her comment rather than the mystery shrouding her background, even if they both probably related to the same thing. He had always considered himself trustworthy, and wasn't the kind to spread rumors or stories in the slightest. Afterall, his girlfriend was one big rumor waiting to happen and it took enough effort just to quell those. He heaved an internal sigh for a moment, wondering if he was going to find Ember running the corridors in stark nude.

He diverted his attention back towards T'rei, who by her last comment also seemed to express a bit of emotion. Afterall, any typical vulcan, even one with an ear job, wouldn't be too concerned about what others thought of her. "Absolutely," he replied steadly.

Widening her eyes somewhat, she held his gaze. "I'm a Terran by birth, adopted by Vulcan parents." She leaned back in her seat, wondering if a sign plastered to her chest would aliviate the problem of telling everyone she met. "That's why I'm like I am." T'rei took a sip of her coffee, the liquid was still hot, forcing her to contort her face. "If that gets around the ship, it will turn into a game of 'let's irratate T'rei. It will make my life difficult."

"Hmm," Ayden began with a soft chuckle, his eyes swaying over a bit while he absorbed the truth of the situation. He hadn't heard of a Terran child being cared for by Vulcans before, and was even more curious as to how any vulcan adult would consider such a decision logical. That wasn't up to him to judge though, and he could understand T'Rei's concerns. "Well you don't need to worry about me, nor do I think you'd have to worry about most of anybody on board the Galaxy. We have stranger... I mean, a variety of personalities on board the ship. For instance, an engineer who doesn't talk, a couple of grown adults who look more like children, and a guy who likes to live in his aquarium eating lobsters. Not to mention weirdest of all, me." He added, trying to add a bit of humor to the discussion even while it was null when coming across to a Vulcan.

"Curious. Why would you consider yourself odd?"

Ayden laughed again, finding more amusment in the conversation. She really had her vulcan qualities, but he could see a lot of human in her too. "Only when I'm off duty..." He joked.

T'rei sat back and pondered the answer for a moment. Taking another sip of her drink, she studied him as he spoke. "Do people find companionship on this ship? With all the strange personalities, it is suprising that anyone would want to get to know each other."

"Actually I'd find all the stranger personalities key in order for anybody to find companionship." Ayden began, "If we were all alike, there'd be no point in trying to make friend's because we'd just be meeting ourselves, right?" He chuckled a bit, he had always wanted to debate diversity with a vulcan but never had the chance up until now, well, sort of. "I mean, for example I've just met you and yet I already want to know more about you, and give you the chance to learn more about me. Be friends, you know?"

T'Rei pondered this for a moment once again, before responding. "Friendship is a necessity for social development. I believe that it would be prosperous for us both if we would continue to learn more about each other." The ever so slightest hint of a smile etched across her face, instantly softening her features. "If you excuse me, I have to attend to a medical exam." Standing, she gently clasped his hand. "It was pleasurable to make your acquaintance, and it is my wish to meet with you again.....perhaps in a more intimate setting?"

Ayden might have well been stunned by a phaser when those words escaped the woman's lips. She was by no means whatsoever unattractive, and if it hadn't been for Ember he would have taken her invitation without reservation nor hesitation. Internally, he was laughing it up, realizing of how he just couldn't meet a normal girl. But as he just told T'Rei, it was in people's differences that allowed for mutual bonds.

But he still wasn't sure how to respond, and could only smile for a few seconds. ~She can't mean intimate as in... intimate. After all even without pointy ears this girl is a vulcan at heart, so intimate probably means casual.~ That allowed him to speak at least, "Uh, sure." He replied with another smile. "My name's Ayden O'Connor, so let me know when you want to meet up."

"I'll leave a message for you. It's been most....interesting indeed." Turning on her heel, she went to leave. Blushing slightly, she returned and gingerly bent over to retrieve her padd she left on the seat beside her. "Bye..." T'rei barely whispered.

Ayden nodded as she walked away before picking his own PADD up, thumbing the edge of it slightly as he contemplated what just happened. Maybe good things did come to those who wait, but too much of anything can kill you. He smirked a bit, before stepping off and leaving the lounge as well.

"Conflict of Interests: Part I"

By: Pilot Ayden O'Connor
2nd Lt Branwen London

==--==

Ayden went down with a solid thud against the sparring mat. The force of the impact knocked the air out of his lung, and he quickly realized how badly he had underestimted his opponent. He laid there for a moment staring up at the ceiling, trying to recollect exactly where he had gone wrong in the fluid motion, so confident that he had her up until the moment of unsatisifying contact with the ground.

Tilting his head, he looked at his 'trainer', the young petite redhead who had barely broken out a sweat by the time he was starting to wonder if it was time to give up and raise the white flag. He managed to draw in breath before chuckling lightly, "And just where did you learn how to do that?"

"Marine training." She said grimly. Branwen knew she really shouldn't take on any more duties at the moment. She was tired all the time, and irritable. But when this young pilot and friend came to her asking for help in defending himself, she couldn't refuse. She couldn't run the risk of somebody going through what she had just gone through because she refused help. "You're not doing that bad." She added.

Ayden chuckled again, pushing himself off the floor with both hands. He and Branwen had interacted from time to time ever since before he was possessed by those damn ghosts, beginning when she helped him to sickbay after he had collapsed from 'initial symptoms'. When he decided to ask a Marine for some tips when dealing with hand to hand combat, naturally her name came up first. Of course, he wasn't expecting to be put on his back quite so easily by the young female.

"Eh, it's just part of my clever and diabolical scheme. Make you underestimate me, and then I'll take you down when you're least expecting it." He laughed, the sarcasm practically painting the room around them.

In honest truth he had noticed her... recent change in demenor. Unfortunately he had never asked about it, at least not since the crash. He did however, decide to make it a point to ask sometime today.

"Try." She said simply taking a defensive position.

Alright, so she successfully called his bluff, it still didn't seem as though she was being coy or cute with him. It almost seemed that she was a little more on edge than he had initially thought. He assumed the posture she showed him in the beginning of their instruction, side stepping a little in order to test his balance, and her alertness.

"Alright, but don't hate if I hurt..."

In a single motion, he moved while in mid sentence. Once again he thought he had the element of surprise, stretching his arm out to grab hers, while his other arm would wrap around her waist in order to force her to the ground. Before he knew it however, it was she who had a grip on him, and he was soon rolling over her back before yet another loud crack into the flooring.

At least this time he managed to grab the back of her uniform, pulling her down right towards him. Somehow she maintained her footing long enough to plant her knee firmly against his gut, forcing him to exhale what little air he had left at the time. It was a precarious position that part of him didn't mind, even though it hurt... as he'd be honest enough to admit.

She let go of him suddenly not being comfortable that close to a man right now. “You are learning. Don’t feel bad.” Bran said softly.

Ayden laughed in between gasping for air, he was certainly going to feel sore tomorrow. "This is fun..." he mumbled with a grin before looking over to Branwen. "But are you sure there isn't anything that's bothering you? Aside from the fact that your hits seem to be getting harder with each time, you seem a little off tempo today. Distant, I suppose would be the best word."

"Why does everybody keep asking that!" She said irritated. "Can't a woman have a little bit of privacy. I'm fine!" She snapped at him.

Ayden just stared at her for a moment, as if his own eyes were reflecting her tone right back at her. After a moment, he picked himself up from the ground and dusted himself off. "I'm not a counselor, but I'm know enough to realize that you aren't..."

”Arent’what?” She snapped again.

"Fine..." Ayden replied, keeping his tone down in order to promote a calm conversation as much as possible. "Seriously Bran... what's bothering you? You look tired, stressed..."

”Drop it will you.” She growled. “Did Kimberly set you up to do this?”

Ayden shook his head, "Who? Bran, no... I don't even know who Kimberly is. This is of my own personal observations." he replied. It was strange how the mood had taken such a stark transition from a tense sparing session down to a grueling argument. The explosion of frustration on Bran's behalf was just a little surprising compared to how modest and relaxed she usually was.

He realized that the sparring room probably wasn't the best environment to be having a heart to heart discussion about her personal affairs, but at the moment they were as secluded as they were going to be. It was, however, painfully obvious that trying to get the truth out of her like this was going to be counter-productive. "Look, we don't have to talk about it... but how about we settle down for a moment and just talk; about anything."

Branwen took a deep breath. "I am sorry, very busy with work." Finally she managed a smile. "Talking is good, about you for instance. How have you been?" She sounded more like her old self.

Ayden was a little reluctant of how quickly that fire was put out, but decided that for the moment it would be good to start out her way. "I've been good..." he started out. After a second of pause he wandered over to the corner and grabbed a couple bottles of water, passing one to her. "Still trying to sort out everything that happened on the planet... I think I'll stick with my fighter next time I ever have to fly planetside." He joked half heartedly.

"Was it bad for you?" She asked softly.

Ayden shrugged, not changing his demenor in the slightest. "I got blasted out of the aft end of a runabout when we were shot down,falling over a hundred meters out of the sky with no anti-gravity pack, hitting the ground, yet some how picking myself up alive and unharmed." He paused for a moment, the whole incident running through his head like a movie clip on fast forward. "Was it bad? Intense I suppose, I thought I was as sure as dead. I even managed to make peace with myself a few seconds left to go, I just wasn't expecting to survive that."

”But you did.” She said. “What went through your head when you realized that?” She felt more comfortable back in counseling mode, much more relaxed.

Ayden paused for a few seconds, trying to recall the events which had passed so quickly that day. It hadn't been a few days ago, and yet already they were blurring into the chaotic melody of his life. He shrugged after a moment more, "Umm... actually I started to think I couldn't die for a while, that I had some sort of mission to complete... not for Starfleet, but for something higher. A whole lot of good I did though, I got beat up by a girl, knocked unconsious by a tree, waking up a few hours later in some abandoned base until we were picked up by the Galaxy. It was pretty silly honestly, I guess I was just lucky... and that's it."

Ayden looked over towards Branwen who had settled down even more now that she had him talking about his experience on the planet. She seemed more content, a reminder of the Bran he had come to befriend. "I bet that as a Marine, you'e probably had more... intense experiences like that."

Immediately she was tense again. “Ehm, yeah sure.” She said. “But getting back to you. I am glad you came through okay, Ayden.”

Ayden took that as an obvious hint that he simply wasn't going to be able to break through whatever barriers she had put up to protect herself so easily. ~What is with women on board this ship~ he thought, considering his rocky relationship with Ember, his strange sibling-like relationship with Aren, and now his friendship with Bran.

He let it all roll down his back, "Yeah, me too... I'm glad I was able to get my butt kicked by you a few times today, it's always a good time." He joked, gently nudging her shoulder with his fist.

She pulled away from him in a reflex. Then got her composure back. “If… if you practice you will be able to win within a few weeks time.” She said to him.

Ayden rolled his eyes, bluntly aware that he had his ass handed to him by the a lightweight female, yet trusting her enough not to brag to her fellow Marines. Pilot/Marine relations has always been on shaky ground since before mankind reached towards the outer edge of space, and unlike the pilots... Marines were desperate for bragging rights.

At least, that was his perspective.

"Maybe," he replied. "But somehow I think I'd have better chances falling out of the sky and surviving than beating you in a fair fight." He joked, including the word fair as if to imply his playfullness.

She smiled. “Live and learn.”She liked teaching and she had no problems with navy types.

"Indeed..." Ayden replied, taking another small stream of the cool beverage. "Well either way I think I've had enough for one night, want to go get a drink in ten-forward?"

She hesitated. “I am sorry. I have no time for social things. Paperwork to catch up on.”

Ayden nodded with a slight hesitation, he really wanted to give Bran the chance to relax and unwind, which seemed to be pretty necessary at the moment. But he couldn't be any more persistant or he'd risk getting her upset again, which would obviously be counterproductive. "Alright, well take it easy." He replied, picking up his jacket off the floor.

"Thank you. Same time next week?" She asked.

"Yeah, same time next week." Ayden replied, rubbing the slight soreness out of his back. Maybe after he got back to his quarters he'd ask Ember for a little help, but figured she'd be more likely to whack him than anything else. "Take it easy Bran."

He would be back to talk to her again...

Conclicts of Interest: Part II"

By: Ayden O'Connor and Branwen London

==---

Bran was stretching and yawning. It was a week later and she had promised Ayden another lesson but right now she felt like she could fall asleep any moment. Not a good thing. Not at all.

Ayden came through the doors again, a little late because of Ember's playful spirit. His cloths and hair were left a little rough, and there was a faint but sly grin on his face as he approached his good friend. It wasn't the type he could help, but he certainly wasn't expecting himself to be able to concentrate much today.

"Sorry I was late..." he announced, immediately noting that Bran's head had been nodding back and forth just as he came in, her eyes fluttering inconsistantly. "You look like you're about to crash there Bran, should I replicate a pillow for you?" He joked slightly, pulling his zipper down from his coat.

She really wasn't looking good at all, and he already decided that it would be a good idea to skip practice today. She really needed some rest, but that may not be too easy for her right now. He he had heard rumors of her abduction, but very few details. Either way, he knew it wasn't something she was taking very easy.

“I don’t appreciate people being late for my lessons.” She snapped. “It isn’t as if I have time to spare. Get ready and warm up, Ayden.”

That stopped Ayden cold, as he watched his friend closely. He knew that she wasn't angry at him personally, rather she was venting her own frustrations in the best way that she could... even if it meant snapping at him. Being a patient man, he probably could of just moved forward and followed her instructions, but something nudged his consiousness towards the belief that this wouldn't be settled until it was confronted. "Ok... well I don't appreciate it when my friends think they can handle their problems on their own when it's pretty damn obvious they need a helping hand." He paused, staring her dead in the eyes, the exhausted tired eyes. "So what is it going to take to break the ice with you?"

Maybe he came on a little too strong, too direct, too fast. Either way, this wasn't going to be pretty, but then again it is usually the ends that justify the means.

"What the.. for the 627th time I am fine. Don't try to turn attention away from yourself. You are the one who was late!" She shouted back.

Ayden grinned a bit, no matter how hard he tried to keep it hidden. Bran certainly did have a personality, and a talent at deflecting the deflector. "For the 628th time you're not fine, and it doesn't take an expert to realize this. You look exhausted, you've been short tempered ever since the mission, and you're practically shoot anybody down whenever they worry about you... including me." He stepped closer to her, his voice remaining strong but not overbearing or insultive. "And don't tell me this is the whole doctors make the worst patients thing either."

“I am not a doctor, I am a psychologist And a marine and I am tired because I do two jobs and damned good as well!” She shot back.

"I'm not saying you're not... but sometimes you have to stop worrying so much about others and start taking care of yourself." He retorted evenly, already feeling the adrenaline pumping through his own blood as he argued with the petite young Marine. "Otherwise you'll burn out, and then you'll lose everything you've worked this far for."

“Wrong! If I show weakness now I lose everything. I have to show Baile that I can hack it. And I can.” She shot back.

Ayden stopped for a second, the tone of his next words being much more collected and without the aggression they were passing back and forth. "Is that what this is about Bran? What Baile thinks about you?" Part of him couldn't believe that it was that simple, that this was a contest of who could outperform the other. He was sure there was something more to the picture, at least he was finally starting to see. "If you're letting yourself slip because of what one guy with a mohawk seems to think about the universe, then you're even further down the rabbits hole than I thought."

"Don't you see. I am a woman, a shrink, green as grass, I have to prove myself. If I break down and cry over something as silly as this they are never going to respect me. And I would succeed a lot better if everybody stopped being such a nuisance."

Ayden had to be frank, "Bran, that's the most naive thing I think I've ever heard you say." He replied, he grabbed her by both shoulders firmly enough so that she wasn't able to escape. Hopefully, she wouldn't resort to her Marine training to break free of his grasp. "There's a time and a place for everything. If you don't lower those walls and let some of that pressure out from time to time, I can promise you that you're going to give out. If you don't want to break down and cry when you're around your crew, don't."

He paused for a second, reflecting on the potential consequences of his next few words. It was all very possible that lines could be crossed if he selected to be her support, but right now she needed him and he was going to be there for her. "Do it when you're with me."

Deadtired she beat against his chest. “I am dirty.” She whispered. “Get away from me!”

Ayden persisted in his hold over her, shaking his head even though she couldn't notice since she wasn't looking him in the eyes anymore. "No," he replied firmly, but with tenderness in his voice. He gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze, as if it didn't matter how dirty she was, or in what context she was referring to. Something was definately wrong. "Not until I know what's going on, it has to be deeper than this."

“Just let me go.’ She whispered close to tears.

Reluctantly, Ayden eased his grip enough to allow her to pull away a little bit, but not completely. Even though he had no idea what was going on, he could feel the pain pouring out of her through her voice, and the watery gaze of her eyes. "Bran..." he started to reply, but his tongue cut him off with silence. He didn't know what to say anymore, either she was going to open up or shut him out. At least she was getting something out right now, the wall was obviously cracked, but not raised.

“No!” She pushed him away. “I am ugly! I wasn’t good enough for a man before and now…..” Finally a tear came.

Ayden heaved an internal sigh,realizing that this woman was feeling insecurities on so many levels she just didn't know how to cope anymore. The worst thing was that there wasn't a lot that he could do for her, especially in regards to his relationship with Ember. It had taken so long to finally get past Ember's walls, did he really want to risk that even though his friend was hurting?

It was hard for him to know what to do, but with one hand he took her chin and raised it so she could see into his eyes, see into the sincerity of the words he was about to express. "You, are not ugly." He affirmed, his thumb stroking her cheek lightly.

The rush ofinternal conflict was making this worse, as he felt her warm tears wander from her eyes to his hand. He wiped the stray tears, maintaining his deep gaze into her eyes. "If I was in a position to call you my own, I wouldn't hesitate to do so."

"Don't! I know you have a girlfriend. In the end everybody chooses someone else but me." She pushed him away again. "Just go."

Ayden released her, the truth of the matter stinging him as much as it did her. Yes, he had a girlfriend, so why was he allowing him to be swayed to be with Branwen? It wasn't something that Ayden could easily explain, it wasn't like Ember had done anything wrong either. Everything just felt new, but the after shocks of their bumpy relationship were far from over. Still though, what had he come so close to doing?

Ayden just stood there, arms to his side as he looked at Branwen; his friend, unable to say or do anything more. She was hurting, in pain, and obviously the one thing she wanted more than anything else in the world was to have someone to hold onto. "I'm sorry..." he muttered lightly.

This body language was very clear, she felt like such a freak and a weakling. "Could you please leave." She said softly.

Heaving an internal sigh, Ayden reluctantly nodded. His best effort to help a friend in need had rather complicated the situation further. He wished that he could fix everything, but there wasn't anything that could be done here. Wanting to say something further, he couldn't find the words, so Ayden turned and moved towards the doors, turning back to see Bran before disappearing through them.

Conflict of Interests: Part III"

By: 2nd Lieutenant Branwen London
Pilot Ayden O'Connor

===---

It had been nearly an hour since Ayden arrived in the spar room, following a routine from which he wasn't certain would be satisfied tonight. Last week, in his efforts to help a friend he almost lost his own resolve. Had that happened, he couldn't even begin to consider how it might have affected his life.

Dressed in his standard duty uniform compared to the traditional sparing costume Branwen insisted they wear during their practice, he paced from one end of the bare empty room towards the other, each step carrying him closer to the door as he realized the fuility of even coming.

"This is stupid..." he finally muttered, pivoting on his heel and moving straight towards the doors. He was mentally cursing himself for thinking that any of this could return to the way it once was, unrealized in the fact that the doors before him opened a half second earlier.

With a sudden impact, he had plowed into, rolled past, and knocked down the one person he didn't expect to see any time soon. The two laid on the floor still trying to regain their orientation when they realized where they were, and who they were with.

"Bran?" He asked, slowly peeling himself off the floor. Unlike him, she *was* dressed in the sparing robes, although it certainly didn't seem as though she had been expecting him. She probably came to practice on her own, thinking that if she waited this long he would have already left.

"Ayden." she said. The one person she was trying to avoid. The look in his eyes last time they had met, the utter rejection, it had hurt her very much. She remember how he had flirted with her the first time they had met. And basically asked her on a date. The next time they met he had another girlfriend. Somehow they had managed to build a friendship, and she thought she had put behind her. Obviously she hadn't. "Could you please get off me?"

As straightforward as she has been, a farcry from the woman he had met months ago, Ayden realized this was a very different Branwen. Reluctantly, not out of desire to be so close to her, but just with the sheer awkwardness of the situation, he relented and got off. Once up, he extended his free hand towards her in order to help her up.

After a slight hesitation she took his hand. "I thought we were happy avoiding each other."

"Not happily..." Ayden returned, pulling her up carefully enough so that she was able to keep her distance between them by the time she was up to her feet. He felt awkward, because he didn't want her to be nervous but as long as they were together like this, he figured there wasn't any other option. "Well... I guess I should be going." He paused for a moment, lingering as if he'd rather sort out their problems then leave the closet closed.

She hesitated. “I'm…. sorry about the other day.” Bran said softly.

Ayden hesitated, struggling with his own words. "It wasn't right for me to expect you to open up to me." He paused for a moment, considering his words carefully even though he knew they could incite a repeat of last week's events. "...to trust me. Whatever you've been through, I just wish I could help, I don't have an alternate motive." He replied.

“It’s …. It’s difficult for me Ayden.” She said. “I know I am not okay now, but I feel embarrassed about it and vulnerable.”

Ayden shifted his weight for a moment, glancing down at the floor as he examined his next set of words. His gaze gently returned to Branwen's. "Well... I'm your friend, and whatever we talk about will be kept between us. No doctors, no counselors, no gossip amonst the crew. But I think you probably know more than anybody else on this ship that you need to have someone to talk to, even if it's *not* me."

“Kimberly kind of forced me to talk to her professionally.” She said. “And Nara helps as well. I haven’t really opened up to my friends. You know it wasn’t that bad, I am being a bit of a sissy.”

"Well I wouldn't know..." Ayden replied, "so should we get out of the corridors or..."

"Yes, we should. We could go to my office, it isn't that far." She said smiling awkwardly.

Ayden grinned lightly, knowing how nervous she must have felt. Part of her biggest issue was that she wanted to have someone to hold onto her, and as close to slipping as he might have come, he was pretty sure he wasn't going to make that same mistake again. His relationship with Ember had grown stronger by the day, and he didn't think he would find himself looking back. "Ok," he replied, taking her lead.

They entered her office. "Would you like something to drink?" In her own space she felt more at ease.

Ayden nodded, "Sure... um, whatever you're having."

"Just water." She handed him a glass. "How are things for you?"

"Good," Ayden replied as he humbly took the glass before taking a seat on a nearby couch. "And you?" This all seemed too awkward, like a sheet of ice was disrupting their normal conversation.

"Better." She admitted. "I still find it difficult to talk about."

Ayden nodded again, agreeing with her fully. "I know it's not easy, there's thing *I* still don't talk about. Things I'd rather just forget, but there are things nobody can carry on their own."

"Maybe you should talk to a professional about it. We are trained to help you with it." Bran said. Only we cannot help ourselves, she thought.

Ayden grinned, "This isn't related to Starfleet..." he paused for a moment, "At least not directly, more n regards to family." He wasn't about to get any more detailed than that, at least not unless she asked him. His parents had always been a touchy subject, usually sparking a bit of anger or frustration in him everytime they were brought up.

"The fact that we are military personnel doesn't mean you cannot talk about private problems. We are all fully qualified therapists, it is something you can bring up with yours." Bran said.

Ayden chuckled, wanting rather to leave it alone than dwell on something he left behind years ago. But her curiosity would get the best of her, and the conversation if he didn't settle her questions with something. "My parents didn't approve of my joining Starfleet, nor staying in. My dad kept me out of the war when I wanted to do nothing more than fight, so I burned my bridges to them and moved forward on my own. Nothing much about it..." he replied.

"It is. I know what it is like, Ayden. Please don't downplay it. Talk about it, it's important. If you pretend there is nothing wrong it will eat at you." She looked at him gently.

Ayden laughed, a little more obviously this time as he eyed her. "Isn't that my line?" There was a certain irony to the situation, and there were times he thought that when she was suggesting things to him, it was moreso because she couldn't suggest the same advise for her.

"I'm the shrink." She said. "Seriously, talk about it was your girlfriend and you therapist if you have one, and your friends. I know will it is like when your family casts you out."

"I casted them out..." Ayden corrected her, "And I'm not a kid so it really doesn't bother me. I have everything I need right here where I am, a good career, a good woman..." he paused to consider that one, even as good as he felt with his relationship with Ember, she certainly hadn't gotten tired of throwing him for a few twists. "... and good friends." He finished. "Now you might be the shrink, but you're definatetly are also the one who needs to let things out more... so even if I have to put you in your own client's seat, I want you to talk to me about what's going on with you."

“You want to put me in that chair.” Bran smiled looked at the chair she used for clients. ‘You want to join the counseling profession?”

"Counselors are just people who develop an ability and intuition that was always there." Ayden retorted with a grin, patting gently on the patient's seat as if inviting her to sit down. "Besides, I always gave great advise out when I was a kid."

"All right than." She sat down. "But just for a second."

Conflicts of Interests: Part IV

By: Ayden O'Connor & Branwen London

===----

Ayden grinned again, moving over towards where Branwen would typically sit. This in a way felt like it was some sort of acting job or a game of some sort in how they were playing musical chairs with their careers. Next thing he'd hear is that Bran wanted to start flying Banzai's. He stepped over towards the tall chair and sat down, facing her while she laid down in her own seat.

It was probably stranger for her than anything else, suddenly being in the chair you've known for so long, yet sat in for so little of your life. "So, tell me what's happening..." he said in a calm, gentle tone. As amusing as this might be, he couldn't forget that it was also a very serious matter.

“Well.”Bran giggled. “I am being a bit silly about the last mission. Hell, you know my dad torutured me almost every day of my first 14 years and now I go all silly over a bunch of aliens. No big deal.”

Ayden just looked at her as she refused her own advise, down playing the past and present as if it wasn't anything. Bran was a strong girl, but far from the sense of invulnerability she wanted to have so much. He hesitated in a response, unsure of what would be the right thing to say and what would be the wrong. That's when he realized how badly he'd probably get chewed out by the Chief Counselor if he did screw up here. "You've been through hell, that goes without saying... but that doesn't make anything easier just because you've experienced some of what it's like before. I haven't heard a lot about what happened down there, but I've been assured that it was everything short of silly."

“It wasn’t even torture.” Bran said. “They paralyzed us and then they conducted medical experiments. That’s all.” She didn’t say that she would have taken torture a lot better.

Ayden nodded, "I know what it's like to be helpless, out of control and unable to do anything about it." He said, referring to his possession only a short time ago. "Even if everything came out alright in the end, it's still a difficult experience to adjust to. Sometimes we even downplay it, 'nobody got hurt', or 'it was just for a little while', or 'they just conducted medical experiments'. But that doesn't change the fact that it was very real, and very hard to deal with."

“I should have been the one least affected.” She mumbled.

"But you weren't." Ayden retorted gently. "And now you have a few choices to make."

Brown raised an eyebrow. "Really doctor?"

Ayden chuckled a bit, the ease of seriousness helpful to their environment. "Really." He replied simply.

"And what choices with that be?"

"You're the doctor, you tell me." Ayden replied.

“Wrong. The patient needs to do all the work.’ Bran grinned.

Ayden grinned again, but then a serious tone came over him. "You'll be buried by whatever guilt and doubts you have right now if you don't let them go, and overcome them with help. You need to stop downplaying this."

“Hell I am already talking to Kimberly opening up a little. It is a sensitive topic for me you know.”

"I know," Ayden replied. "Do you feel like you're getting enough out for Kimberly? It's going to take some time obviously, but if there's not enough..." his words droned off for a moment.

“She is nice.” Bran said. “And competent. I wanted to be her shrink you know.” She smiled.

Ayden laughed again, "Why?"

“Won’t tell you. But it is always better to be the shrink then to be shrunken.”

Shifting in his seat a little, Ayden couldn't help but be amused by the hidden agenda of the shrink. "Secrets will get you nowhere with me Ms. London." He joked, "although I'm already starting to get the feeling that I'm better off being a pilot."

“Because what I know or think I know about Kimberly is confidential.” Bran grinned.

"No fair," Ayden retorted with a snicker. "This is why we don't like psychologists... we have to tell them everything and they tell us nothing in return." He joked, standing up from the chair and moving over towards Bran, crouching beside her.

She hesitated when he came so close. Bran liked him enough not to want him that close.

Ayden could sense the sudden tension running in Bran, and supposed that he could understand it. "Well I think our time is up," he winked, "same time next week?"

“Allright.” She smiled.

"Dancing with Mischief"

By: Ayden O'Connor & T'Rei

===---

The street was wet with the previous light shower that fell on the city. The lights reflected off of the pavement with a welcoming glow as she stepped across the street. Her favorite hangout was just in front of her, Club Titon. The white of the building was accented by red spotlights that drew a smile from her lips. Straightening the halter dress of turquoise glitter material, another coy grin crossed her features as she continued up the drive, past the swaying palm trees and loudening salsa music that was outside. The smell of the city, the lights, and the club were enticing, making this the perfect escape for T’Rei.

People of various nationalities streamed in and out of the front entrance. All looked content, and sweaty. A sexuality hung in the air as T’Rei smiled at the bouncer and entered the club. The music was a swaying beat, and made T’Rei instantly have the urge to loose all her inhibitions at the door.

Once inside, the Latin music intoxicated her. A male grabber her, spun her around, and made her laugh in delight. She didn’t know him, and in a club like this, it didn’t matter. Everyone was here for one and one purpose only, to dance.

Placing a hand on his shoulder and grasping his other hand, she smiled attractively at him. “Wooo!” She explained as she was bumped from behind. “It’s crowded!”

“It’s perfect” Her male companion stated. “Shall we?”

Nodding, she lowered her hands to clasp his that were at his waist. They started the dance as he spun her around in all the glory and pageantry she could muster.

* * *

"This definately isn't the Risan hot springs..." Ayden muttered as the thick holodeck doors closed behind him. The latin jazz echoed through the streets as people danced, moved, and talked freely with one another. Ember had suggested that he and her take a night to relax, and there wasn't anything more suited to relaxing than skinny dipping in the Risan hot springs.

Maybe she changed her mind, and just wanted to dance, maybe catch a hotel room later after the pulsing music wore them out. He thought about contacting her via the communicator, but where was the fun in that? She was probably waiting in the main building.

The environment was sophisticated, he could smell the electricity in the air as he passed through the main doors and came upon a thick crowd of dancers. No where was Ember, whom he had expected to be by in large the center of attention.

But he did catch a glimpse of someone familiar, that vulcan-human girl he had met in ten-forward a few days ago. Almost as soon as he noticed her, she allowed her eyes to settle upon him. This was definately a new side, as she was beaming with excitement and amusement; a farcry from the vulcan attitude she had earlier.

But why was she here?

The bass beat had her as she spotted him across the room. Why was he here? There had been a cancelation and she quickly had been able to reserve the spot to relax.....She kept her eyes on him as she was passed from male to male in an elaborate dance with other couples. Finally, as the dance ended, she made her way over to his spot.

"Hi...What brings you here?" She stated breathlessly.

Ayden gazed upon T'Rei, baffled and uncertain of where he should start. Surprisngly enough, the woman was absolutely stunning, if anything for the moistness of her smooth skin, piercing eyes, and a bolstering smile. That confused him even more as he couldn't fathom anybody who was raised by the strictiness of vulcan training to smile. Perhaps her training wasn't as intense... hell it was pretty damn obvious that was the case.

"Uhm..." he began.

Arching her eyebrow, she responded. "Well?" She shot him a look of curiousity as she viewed him scanning her. "I reserved this after a cancelation came in this afternoon. It's something I like to do when I'm possitve no one else is around." She challenged him with her eyes....if she let herself, she would surely fall for his rugged good looks and smoking dark eyes. However, she had to focus on enjoyment, rather than hopeful longing. "Is there something else Ayden?"

Ayden stammered for a second, hoping it wasn't too obvious. He looked around the dance floor again as if he were double checking to make sure Ember wasn't hanging around ready to surprise him, it was certainly in her style. If she had cancelled the arrangement he would have liked to have heard something about it. "I'm sorry for interrupting, Ember and I had made reservations and I didn't know it got cancelled."

He looked back towards T'Rei, still shining from her activities. "Um... keep having, fun then." He replied with a short smile as he started to turn in order to retreat out the double doors.

"Uh...tell me Ayden....do you know how to dance?"

Ayden turned around, standing there as one of the few people *not* dancing at the very moment, knowing that it was for a very good reason. He was a skilled pilot, and very romantic when the occasion strikes, but he was not however, a dancer. It simply wasn't his knack in life, and it showed more obvious than a solar implosion. "Not really," he replied subtly.

"If you are not doing anything....care to join me?"

Ayden started to chuckle, realizing how much of a fool he'd probably look like if he tried dancing with her, especially to the tandum of this powerful and invigorating beat. Granted, he certainly wouldn't mind being closer to T'Rei, which was a bit confusing since he was with Ember. It had been a while since even he had been in a stable relationship, no longer moving from bed to bed per each night's arrival.

~Old habits die hard~ He thought, with a reluctant shake of his head. "I'd either step on your toes or embaress you, I'm not a good dancer. Thanks though." He smiled greatfully.

Running up to him, she grabbed his hand. "Come on. I won't bite." She stated with a laugh. "I'll teach you."

Ayden turned, feeling her firm yet tender grip around his wrist, the playful smile crossing her lips. "I never said you did bite," he replied with a jovial grin, guessing it was better to try than not. "I did however, warn you that you'll probably be unable to walk on your toes after this, but ok." He finished.

"Ha. Why do you think steel toed dancing shoes were invented?" She purred back playfully at him. Easing him out on the dance floor, she attempted with her best effort to help him, but all was lost. One song, and she was about done when a slow beat started.

"Tell me Ayden....you do know how to dance slow....don't you?" Praying to God that he said yes, she waited patiently for an answer.....

Ayden nodded a bit, not quick enough to see where this one was going until it was too late. Slow Dancing was perhaps the only way he could dance, with a gentle yet predictable sway to the left and right. It was easy, at least that's what he thought. Part of him was glad to see that a slow song came on, but once he realized how this meant he'd be dancing closely with another woman he started to wonder if it was such a good idea. ~It's an innocent dance, nothing else~ He thought as T'Rei slowly conformed to the desired position.

"Okay."

As the music played over the crowd, the hot and intense beat dying into a slow, passionate, and romantic tune, Ayden and T'Rei slowly shifted across the floor. Every few seconds brought her a little closer as she placed herself into a more comfortable position around him. He considered bringing Ember to this program sometime, she'd probably enjoy it although it meant he'd have to pick up some moves. He looked down to her, "So where'd you learn how to move like that, I doubt they taught it much at the Vulcan academy."

"I did not attend the Vulcan Academy. I went to Harvard, then Starfleet. While I was at Harvard....the big thing to do over the breaks was to go dancing.....Cuban style. Hence, over the years I was there, I perfected my dancing. It's a great way to release pent up emotion, keep my body in shape, and impress the hell out of men like you!" She laughed at her comment. "I teach on the side...if you are ever interested...." Looking around at the noise and the crowd, she commented. "This is not the proper place to study dance....it's crowded, dark, and can smell bad if you catch my drift."

Ayden laughed, "Yeah I catch it..." He replied, noting how much more human she seemed right now. He didn't answer her offer right away, considering it.

She swayed left with him, attempting not to smell his colonge as he held her waist close. His fingers grasped her gently, but with force. Sighing, she looked up into his gaze. "I'm serious about my offer. I've qualified for International competition which is during the next leave.....and I'm trying to locate a partner. It's rather difficult on a ship, but I've been in contact with a few propects."

Ayden looked down, wondering if she was talking about him. "Like who?" He asked, figuring that the odds of him learning how to dance like this was pretty slim even with her help, let alone trying to compete.

"Honestly, just pompous butt wipes." She swung him to the left, testing his ability to let her lead. "Very good." Smiling softly, she continued. "When someone get's to a professional level, it's difficult to find a person that's not vanity personified."

"I see..." Ayden replied, not quite understanding the whole concept here. He just decided to go with the flow before the dance was over, and it was finally time for him to find Ember.

"Let me know, I have the holosuite reserved for every other Saturday evening....but if you are into the lessons, we will have to find a larger space to practice in." The music stopped, and she stopped with him. She looked upwards for a mere second. "It's been fun, but I need to get back out there. Let me know about the lessons....okay?"

"Sure thing." Ayden replied, scratching the back of his head slightly, it was a small quirk he had whenever he wasn't sure what to say and was trying to be polite in place of his confusion.

She turned from him, only to be swayed by the man that was her partner. "You could do it Ayden. Give me a shot, and I'll have you as gracefull on your feet as you are in the air!" She shouted above the crowd right before a new, rythmic song started.

"Taming the Free Spirit of a Bold Woman, or Die Trying"

By: Flight Officer Ember Lansky
Pilot Ayden O'Connor
Ensign Aren Furai

===----

"The worst thing is that I can see her doing it..." Ayden muttered as he finished chopping small bits of mixed meats and vegetables before dumping them into a large bowl. He then dumped a generous portion of teriyaki sauce over the contents before. Ember and him had gotten into a thick, yet playful argument about her doubts into his cooking. In order to dispute her claim, he agreed to make her the best oriental teriyaki chicken salad she had ever tasted.

He had even gone through the effort of setting a candle lit dinner, with some soft white wine to complement the meal. It was his way of saying that even if he was going to prove her wrong, he would certainly do it with style and taste.

When the chime on his door activated prematurely, he worried that Ember had gotten off her duties earlier than he had anticipated, but after finding Aren on the other side he realized how much he would have preferred Ember's presence. He had only known the young Hiigaran for a few days after catching her unexpectedly in his fighter. Apparently it was the first time she had ever been so close to a Banzai, and he agreed to give her a brief tour of its capabilities... on the ground.

When she told him not only about how Ember had harrassed her in the shower room, then agreeing to run through the corridors naked in order to make things even, it did a little more than tilt his mood. Feeling as bad for Aren's misfortune as disturbed by Ember's persisting boldness, he knew exactly how far Ember was willing to take things.

Throwing the contents of the meal into the replicator to be cooked, he looked towards Aren with slight reluctance. Heaving an audible sigh, he gave her a weak smile. "I'll talk to her about it, see if I can't convince her to cancel her little run. I'm sorry about what she did to you."

Aren shrugged lightly, glancing around the room more often than maintaining eye contact with Ayden. "I might have overreacted, I was just afraid that if I stayed around that she'd beat me up."

Ayden chuckled, tossing a cooking towel over his shoulder before swiping his hands together a few times to knock out any foodbits that got stuck between them. "Ember can be pretty hot headed at times, but she also knows that she deserves what she gets in circumstances like that, you might have done better to just sock her." He admitted, pausing to glance at his chronometer, "Well I'll talk to her, so try not to worry about it. But you probably should get of here before she gets here or I'll have a *really* hard time." He winked, feeling what seemed like a sort of brother/sister relationship forming between him and Aren.

Aren nodded, smiling faintly before stepping out and disappearing into the corridors.

Ayden passed another heavy sigh, knowing that if Ember says something like that in public then it'll be hell trying to convince her to drop it. He tried to keep his own feelings from overbearing his thoughts, but there was a certain stain of jealousy lurking around his nerves. Afterall, now that they were steady he would hope she'd realize that he wouldn't like her to be parading herself off to the crew.

She did need to learn to settle down a bit, and find other way to keep herself amused. Either way, this was going to be an interesting meal indeed.

** *

After what had transpired in Ten-Forward, Ember was really looking forward to an enjoyable evening with Ayden. The string of accusations that Aren had thrown at her still rang in her ears – yet another of the countless reminders she had that her reputation amongst the crew wasn't exactly sterling. For a short while, she was steaming in anger in her quarters, irritated and feeling indignant more than anything else that a young upstart had thought to put her in her place by lashing out with unfounded judgments. But, as quick as she was to anger, so was Ember quick to let go of her anger. She didn't have a habit of holding on to grudges and killing herself endlessly over them. With the good dinner Ayden promised her, it became even easier to let go of that brief, unhappy incident.

So, when Ayden greeted her at the door, her smile was huge. "Hey you," She said warmly, reaching for him in an embrace.

Ayden smiled, returning her embrace before placing a lingering kiss at the nape of her neck, and another on her soft lips. "Hey yourself," he murmered before wrapping his arm around her and walking her into his quarters. By this time the plates were already on the table, each loaded with generous portions of the food he had worked all day into producing. Keeping her close by his side, he grinned lightly. "So are you ready to lose that bet of yours? I went all out today, just so you know. I even made dessert."

Delighted at his show of affection, the change of topic puzzled Ember for a moment. "Bet? What bet?" She asked, raising a brow. It took several seconds for the question to really register, and when it did, a hint of annoyance crossed her face – more at the reminder, than at him. But she gave a shrug, laughing it off as she moved near to the sofa. "I'm glad to see that the rumour mill has been working overtime to keep you informed. You're talking about the run in nude I'm going to do tomorrow?"

Ayden stopped, "No... I was talking about dinner." He paused for a few seconds, allowing the disappointment to reflect on his face for a few moments. "But since you mention that... what would possess you to do that?" He made sure he didn't sound angry or upset, but he was certainly reluctant to be excited about her doing something like that.

*The* bet between them. Of course. She had been anticipating this intimate dinner with Ayden so much that she had really begun to see it as a date, more than a bet. Ember shook her head with a smile. "My bad. But since you mentioned it…" She said teasingly, echoing him. "I'm not losing until I actually taste the food. Appearances can be deceiving you know."

The run was a little harder to explain and he could read the difficulty in her face as she tried to do so. "It's something I have to do," She started slowly, drawing in a breath. "The whole ship is talking about Aren Furai. She's so embarrassed she can't lift her head up when she walks into a crowd. What I do, will make things better for her." It wasn't just some misguided streak of impulse or urge to 'show off' that impelled her to agree to something like that, and she hoped Ayden, of all people, understood.

Ayden signed, pulling Ember's chair away from the table so she could sit down. He gestured warmly for her to come over to the table, which she did. Once he took his seat across from her, he picked up his glass of wine and took a small sip. "Well I guess the important question is whether or not she wants you to do it. You obviously started something, but does she want you to finish it?" He replied softly, still not angry or upset, just trying to put all perspectives into the picture. For the moment, he was going to try to keep the topic away from how her boldness could affect him.

Even if she didn't say it, she appreciated the calmness with which he was talking to her. It couldn't be easy, and she had been half-expecting him to have gotten angry at her, make an emotional outburst, or something equally dramatic between her last word and his first utterance. He hadn't. And she was grateful. She wasn't really keen on having *that* much drama in the space of an evening.

"Obviously she wouldn't want me to finish it," Ember smiled ruefully, taking a drink from the glass of wine as well. "She'll feel too bad having me do it – it's something else that'll just make her feel guilty. Especially since she knows I can't take full responsibility for her running out of the shower room naked." She shrugged.

Ayden gave her a curious look, he didn't want to make it seem too obvious that *somebody* had already come and talk to him about this, that somebody being Aren Furai herself. Playing words with Ember was like playing with fire, one wrong motion or an unexpected breeze and everything's on fire; including his ass. "What happened?" He asked, already uneasy about what Aren confessed to him.

Ember's laugh was wry. "She was staring a little too long and a little too curiously at me in the shower… I…" She looked at Ayden, the mild amusement that played in her eyes was mixed with a subtle, sardonic understanding that she *might* have carried things too far. "I pretended to show interest in her. It was harmless fun. Something we would have both laughed off eventually if she hadn't taken it overly seriously and run off like that."

Ayden shrugged, "I guess not all people are as daring and curious as you are." He replied, pausing for a moment to set his glass of wine down. Picking up his silverware, he dipped his fork into the bowl and pulled out a small bit of salad and chicken, each marinated and dipped in teriyaki sauce. "Well, go ahead and give it a shot." He said, clarifying himself before she thought he was telling her that he felt it was ok for her to run nude through the corridors. A discussion like this needed it's breaks. "Your dinner... that is."

Ember nodded, following suit. "Are you nervous or what?" She teased him as she cut a piece of chicken and put it into her mouth, chewing slowly. "We never did agree on the terms of the bet, did we." It would be good to know, especially at this point when it seemed like she was going to lose. She didn't think though, that she would mind losing any bet with Ayden at all. The forfeit should be… interesting. "It's really delicious," Ember chuckled when she had swallowed it. "Were you secretly taking cooking classes or something?"

Ayden chuckled, "A little bit." He joked lightly as he took a bite himself. All in all it tasted pretty good, although he thought it could use a little more sauce in some places. There were a few seconds where neither of them said much of anything as they just ate small bits of their food, and finally Ayden returned to their previous subject. "I don't suppose I could convince you to back out," He asked her calmly, once again without any sense of urgency or frustration. Their conversation had remained pretty casual and calm, and that's the way he wanted to keep things if he could.

She knew this was coming, that they weren't done with *that* subject just yet. Sucking in a deep breath, her gaze dropped slightly as she played with the food on her plate, as though she was thinking of how to say what she wanted to say without it all erupting violently around her. She, as much as Ayden, didn't want a fight.

"It needs to be done, Ayden. I don't want to feel like I 'owe' Aren Furai because I had a part to play in ruining her golden reputation…" She said sincerely. Falling silent for a while to let her words sink in, she then looked up at him, asking quietly, "You don't like it, do you?"

Ayden shrugged reluctantly, playing with his food as well before finally setting his silverware down. He looked at Ember closely, sincerely. "I think it'll cause more harm than good." He replied, treating this topic less than a casual conversation and more like a meaningful discussion. "It's not like I really care about what people think about you, me, or *us*... but you have to consider the possibility that the repercussions might be more extensive."

He paused again, rediverting his thoughts to something other than how he personally felt about it. He didn't want to ask Ember to alter her lifestyle for his sake, that was something she'd have to see herself. "If Furai had gone through her chain of command and cried sexual harrassment or assault, you could have lost that silver bar on your collar, you're flight status, you're career, everything. The same thing could happen if you go out there tomorrow and somebody finds it offensive. If you don't want to feel like you owe her anything, stop doing things like that."

His last point was a bit harsher than he intended, not in the way it was said, rather just in that it was the first time he had bluntly told her what she should and shouldn't do. It wasn't a habit he wanted to have with her, rather allowing her to make her own decisions. She was a trouble maker, but she was probably the smartest woman he had ever known too.

She didn't like people dictating the way she should live. She hated it. But she understood where he was coming from, and even if his words chafed, she fought against the instinctive anger and indignation that rose up in her throat. "It was a joke," She repeated. In her honest opinion, Aren Furai needed to lighten up more and stop taking everything so seriously. A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "I admit I do have a tendency to carry things too far, sometimes. But, people need to be able to learn to laugh at life, to laugh at themselves. It doesn't always have to be about career, or about following the rules."

Ember was playful; she was bold. Asking her to stop doing things like that was like asking her to change a part of who she was fundamentally.

Ayden chuckled lightly, sticking his fork back into the food before taking another bite. "Well I'm not going to disagree with you there. My personal opinion is that you should air on the side of caution, but if this is really something you feel that you have to do, do it." He grinned a bit, knowing that even while he felt... uncomfortable about every guy on board that corridor catching a lasting glimpse of *his* girl, he had a nudging feeling that was as close to her as they were ever going to get. The most important thing for Ayden to learn in this fresh relationship was compromise, a critical aspect that would either make or break them. "Thank-you." Ember replied softly, returning to her meal.

"Investigating an Aunt"

Ensign Artim
Security Officer

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief Tactical Officer

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

Artim was already nervous. It wasn't just the fact that he'd be meeting the closest thing Valera had to parents though that would be enough to have any male on edge. It was the fact that this...Talara simply creeped him out. I mean, who's aunt just invites a niece's girlfriend to dinner. Couple that with the fact that he knew nothing of this Talara and that was enough to give Artim the jitters. His finger was almost shaking when he pushed the button to call for the turbolift. A few moments later it arrived, and Artim was still shakey as he entered.

"Shalom, Ensign!"

Artim immediatly recognized the officer already occupying the turbolift. He and Saul Bental never even spoke before the Galaxy reached the Dithparu-haunted DS5, but crisis both the two of them together in a dazzling race against all odds to stop the alien soul hunters.

In the end, after the elder alien killed himself in a psyonic blast that wiped out the Dithparu, Saul and Artim were the only witnesses, and they were also those who sealed the door to the alien structure.

It seemed that at least Saul got something from it - a new full pip decorated his collar, replacing the old hollow one. Another 'innovation' was a light-red mark covering most of the Lieutenant's cheek. As a medical Doctor, Artim identified immediatly the traces of a dermal or bone regeneration device.

"Good day Lieutenant. Deck 3 please.", Artim replied quietly as he stepped in, the proximity to the man he'd been with on DS5 brought back memories as well as the ache in his shoulder where he'd been shot that day.

It took a moment for it to occur to the Miran, but Saul may be just this person he was looking for. Saul had earned a reputation for being able to get things that were difficult to come by, information included. Some said he used to be intel and had just gotten back from some secret assignment. While both of these were classic lower decks rumors, Artim had learned there was at least some truth to every rumor, so there was no harm in asking.

"Lieutennant, I thought I might ask a small favor of you...I need some information and I've heard you're a good person to talk to about that sort of thing."

Saul grinned broadly. "You heard correct. I even give discounts to officers. As long as I don't need to break any major Starfleet laws to get it. So, what do you need to find out?"

Artim pulled out a PADD with what he'd been able to find on Talara so far, namely nothing specific. "I've just been invited to dinner on ch'Rihan at my...well...girlfreinds aunt and uncle's place. Problem is she didn't send the invitation herself, her aunt did. That's creepy on its own so I did some digging on my own in Talara, but there's so little on her in official files that I can access that I'm guessing there's something more interesting that I can't get to. You however..."

He just realised that he had never mentioned to Saul that he had a Romulan aquaintance and worse, he just called Valera his girlfried.

The PADD exchanged hands, and began to speed-read it.

"Your girlfriend is a Romulan?", He inquired the obvious question after a moment, reflecting Artim's thoughts.

"Yeah, I met Valera long before I joined Starfleet at a genetics conference. She was a civilian when we met and then apparantly joined their fleet", Artim replied

"Artim.", Saul began, and for perhaps the first time ever Artim heard him speak in a serious tone, "Do you realize that seduction is one of the oldest ways to recruit an agent? It's especially effective on someone who probably has difficulties forming romantic relations... no offense, of course."

"Which is why I'm asking for some help. Valera and I have always maintained a discreet distance and this invitation is entirely out of character for her.I mean, I could see her asking me to a casual lunch at some romantic spot, but not over to her family's place for dinner. She doesn't even talk about her aunt and uble much. There's an alterior motive here, I can feel it. ", Artim replied just as seriously.

The serious expression vanished from Saul's face, exchanged for the same old sly grin.

"All right. This one's free of charge. I just happen to have a friend on Romulus which may help, and I hope that we're both being paranoid about your... Valera. Anyway, I've got a piece of advice to you that I was anxious to pass along. Even to someone who's older."

"Its not Valera I'm worried about, its her creepy aunt. And what can you tell me that 400 years haven't taught me?"

Saul leaned toward Artim, his voice decreased to a whisper. "If she says anything about a place called Sakaria, RUN."

"I'll keep that in mind." Artim said grinning. "Its definatly not on my travel itenerary. And...thanks for the help. I too hope I'm wrong about all this."

Saul removed his hand from the Turbolift's panel. He was holding the doors close up until now, much to the dismay of the Tellarite sergent major which impatiently waited outside the lift.

"I'll keep you posted. We're probably both paranoid."

"Paranoia can be healthy to. And thanks. I owe you one."

"Soar for the Camera"

By: Pilot Ayden O'Connor
Ensign Aren Furai
Flight Officer Ember Lansky

===----

Ember Lansky showed up exactly when she promised to, and Aren Furai was there waiting reluctantly. It seemed obvious that Ayden hadn't been able to coax her out of her plans to streak through the corridors as some sort of redemption/entertainment value.

"Have you thought about how this might affect O'Connor? You two are a couple, right?" Aren asked sharply. After ten minutes of failed effort, Aren decided it was time to strike closer to the heart of the matter. "Do you think *he* likes what you're about to do?"

Aren hadn't seen Ayden in the mix of personnel waiting ambitiously for Ember's entrance. Word had definately gotten around, and crowds were discreetly working in nearby corridors waiting for the opportune moment to catch a glimpse of the attractive brunette in action. But since Ayden wasn't there amongst them, she figured he didn't like the idea any more than she did.

Ember refrained from exhibiting the hint of annoyance – and exasperation – that she felt on her face, and simply turned to Aren unsmilingly, a brow half-raised. What she was about to do would essentially, get Aren off the hook. Aren would cease to be the hot subject bandied about by the rumour mongers, and be able to feel less embarrassment walking through the ship. So, why she even bothered to try some pathetic attempt at dissuading her from the run was beyond her comprehension.

"He doesn't like it, but that's really irrelevant," She replied straightforwardly. It wasn't irrelevant. Hardly. But Ember didn't see the need to admit the twinge of… she herself wasn't sure what feeling it was exactly. Was it remorse? Guilt? Regret? But whichever it was, she didn't need to admit any of it to the girl before her.

"Irrelevent?" Aren paused for a second, crossing her arms. "He loves you, cares about you, and above all *understands* you better than anybody else on the ship, and what he thinks is irrelevent?" Aren walked over to Ember, standing close to the front of her face. "What happens if the whiplash from all this becomes too much for him?"

In truth Aren didn't know that much about Ayden, but she heard that Lansky was a handful, and yet somehow Ayden was resolute in his feelings for her. But even the strongest bridge could collapse under too much weight, too much pressure. "Or is that irrelevent too?"

Much as Ember hated it, every accusation that Aren made carried the sting of truth. Ember faced her down squarely, unrelentingly, not letting her know that somehow, someway, her words had managed to find their mark. "It won't. Why should he even care about what people say? Why should *you*?" She asked of Aren sharply.

"Yes, I would..." Aren replied quietly. "Sometimes it's good not to listen to what others think, but there comes a time where you have to listen to the world around you."

Ember gave a shrug dismissively, not looking at Aren as she walked over to the benches in the shower room and began to strip off her uniform. "It's about us, not about them. We don't need the approval of other people to do what we want." She turned around suddenly and stared at the girl. "*I* don't." She emphasized.

Aren shifted her weight impatiently, "You didn't sound too sure about that." Aren replied sharply, shifting next to Ember on the bench and taking a seat. She held a lingering pause as Ember continued to undress, once again expressing her external taste. Once again, Aren found herself getting... confused. She tried to keep her attention on the issue at hand. "I would love to have everything like you..." she began quietly, "...but I wouldn't play Klingon routlette with it. Don't you think that you have too much to risk on stupid stuff like this anymore?"

Laying the shirt on the bench, Ember started to pull down her pants, removing every article of clothing on her. Hearing what Aren said, she couldn't help but feel there was a tinge of envy in her, mixed in with a tinge of wistfulness. Sadness. It made her wonder. "When you think the weight of what you have, ever becomes too much to risk… and you stop living the way you should, then I really think there's a problem," She said without hesitation.

"But what happens when you risk it all, lose it all... for nothing?" Aren asked realistically. She leaned closer to Ember, "I appreciate what you're trying to do... but it's not necessary. Just like you said, people will forget."

"So what?" Ember questioned with a skeptical look. She shrugged, frankly not caring if Aren thought it was necessary or not. No matter what she said, even if Aren successfully dissuaded her from doing it, some part of her would still end up blaming her for being the laughingstock on the ship. It was something she was going through with. When the last stitch of clothing had been removed, she strode towards the door of the shower room, turning back to Aren with a last glance, her head cocked.

"Well, I'll see you."

Aren turned and reached her arm out in a final act of desperation, thinking for once that she could physically restrain the taller, more athletic woman. The doors hissed to an open just as she managed a grip on Ember's bare arm, expecting immediately to be tossed off or pushed aside like some doll that was in the way. It never came. In fact, Ember had completely frozen in her stay.

That was when she realized that her actions had nothing to do with Ember's sudden stop, rather the sight of Ayden O'Conor waiting for her amongst the corridors. This could almost have been expected since he was Ember's boyfriend and that Aren had requested he find a way to convince Ember not to move forward with her nude streak except for one detail. He wasn't wearing anything either.

Ayden turned as the doors opened, finding his girl and Aren tied up in the lockerroom. Aren had continued to try and convince Ember not to go through with it. Ayden had realized since last night that it would be a hopeless effort, with the purpose behind what she was going to do clear and without question. He did however, feel that it would be a positive boost to his relationship with Ember, as well as settling amusement amongst the crew if he were to go out with her.

Of course this was only the third time he had ever gone streaking in public, the first time on board ship. He smiled to Ember, and Aren looked go with a look of defeat, embaressment, and amusement all in one. "You women take nearly as long to undress as you do to dress, you know that?" Ayden chuckled.

The stunned amazement in Ember's face quickly gave way to a broad grin. She couldn't imagine that she would see Ayden here; it was so unbelievable, yet the rush of pride that swelled in her chest was real, very real. She would be hard-pressed to deny it, but a part of her was also deeply touched, a feeling like love flooding her senses and making her voice catch in her throat, rendering her temporarily speechless. She knew he didn't like it, that he wasn't *all* for it, and getting his consent and support in this act was already more than she could ever hope to ask for. That he was joining her… it went far and beyond the call of duty.

She hugged him, the display of affection instinctive. "You… are out of this world," She said to him, that grin still stuck on her face. She didn't think she could get it off just yet.

Ayden smiled, even though his body felt a chill of awkwardness towards the fact that there were several dozen personnel scattered along the desk watching these two confess their love and affection for another. He hoped that he didn't get *too* excited having her so close to him, or the crew would probably start wondering if this was going to be more than just a nude streak.

He pulled away and smiled again, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. He clasped her hand in his, standing before the corridor as the two got ready to start their light jog. He was certain that holovids, pictures, and any assortment of stories and rumors were going to fly through the ship like wildfire, but as long as he and Ember were together it wouldn't make a difference if the entire Galaxy knew what they were doing. "Ready?"

She laughed, personally oblivious of the onlookers. There was no reason why they should make her stop what she felt like doing, or saying. "Catch you on the other side," She winked, tossing the gauntlet down and getting a headstart on the challenge as she took off running, leaving him behind gape-mouthed.

Headstrong and playful, Ember was running off alone, kicking off the sprint by herself, but still, she was light from the certainty of the knowledge that Ayden would be right there with her. When she turned around, he would be there.

He would be there. It made her soar.

BACKPOST: More toward the beginning of the current episode.

“Nightmares & Poker”

Nara & Bran

A lone lamp shone its orange light over the table, spilling onto the PADD. A face was lit by partly the lamp and partly the glow of the PADD’s backlight. Nara pressed some buttons on the PADD. This is usually what she did in the nights. She studied, read, wrote; anything to be quiet. Just because she couldn’t sleep didn’t mean she couldn’t let Saia and Bran sleep.

It’s not that she didn’t sleep at all. She couldn’t imagine Dhani having to deal with that, but she did get some sleep. Not near enough, but when Bran and Saia were gone, she would turn the lights on, play some music and doze. It was only the dark and silence that the demons invaded.

She rubbed her eyes now. It also wasn’t that she wasn’t sleepy. She just feared the nightmares so badly, she refused to sleep without something to distract her mind. She stood, stretched and keyed in a command for coffee, setting it carefully on the table before sitting back down. She took the PADD and read the information she just keyed in. It was her report about what happened on the planet. She tried to remember everything. What the dead man looked like, what equipment she recognized and good descriptions of ones she didn’t.

She sighed, and set it down, picking up the stack of PADDS and looking through them. The chronometer showed she had plenty of time before she had to be on duty. She found her notes on the EEH and frowned thinking that the only thing she could think to do with that is start the mechanical work. She needed to get with Dhani soon to see if she still wanted to work on it with her.

Then she came to a PADD that had drawings in it. Nara smiled and set it aside. She must had gotten Saia’s mixed up with hers as she straightened up. She wondered how many PADDs Saia had filled up thus far. She looked up at the walls and shook her head. Several months ago, the quarters were bare except for whatever she unpacked and Bran unpacked. Now there were paintings on paper lining the wall. Nara found her PADD that she had programmed to be like a PDA and wrote down that she needed to get some frames for those.

Branwen had slept a little earlier but she kept waking up, nightmares woke her. She was reliving what had happened to her. So far she tried not to show too much emotion, but Bran couldn’t keep it up much longer. This morning she had been released from sickbay and it was difficult to get settled again.

Only half awake she didn’t even realize when the tears came and before she realized it, Bran was crying uncontrollably curled up in a little ball in her bed.

*******************************

The night wind had chilled her to the bone. She was in Baile’s mind again? The landscape looked the same, at least as she saw it. She suddenly realized she was naked. She tried covering herself and screamed out. “You’re as sick as any man!” Before an answer could come or not, a ship broke through the clouds. She saw it and her mouth opened again, “What?” She looked around and back at the ship as it came to land. It was the Sakarian ship that had come to get her troop and return them to the other side of the planet. But she was naked. She couldn’t let them see…

She shrieked as she felt hands fold around her. Hands colder than the wind. She quickly turned to see Marks. She let out a scream, and he threw her to the ground. She felt herself falling.

Saul had picked Bran. Only one choice and he chose her. Then she heard the scream that wasn’t hers. Bran had fallen too.

She opened her eyes. She didn’t remember landing. She still heard the whimpering and looked around for Bran but only saw bloodied bodies. She looked up seeing a figure looming over them. As the figure’s face came into view, Nara knew it was the second Dithparu that invaded her. She looked again and called out, “Bran!”

*******************************

Nara’s head shot up with a snort of breath. She blinked and shook her head as the whimpering continued.

After a few seconds, she realized it was coming from Bran’s room. She looked down at the PADD and saw, “Get frames foooooooooooooooo…” and then a small box saying, “Prolonged pressure.” She set it down, stood up and walked over to Bran’s door.

She lightly tapped it, “Bran?”

Bran tried to stop the crying but she just couldn’t. All those pent up emotions were coming out at once. She couldn’t even get words out to answer Nara.

Nara called again, but couldn’t get louder. Saia’s own nightmares seemed to have tapered off to about once a week. When the girl did sleep well, Nara dared not disturb her of it.

She tried her code on the door seeing if Bran locked it. She didn’t know how Bran would accept her. Would she be a “marine” like Baile and attack her for trying. Or had what happened to her broke her where all that was left was a little frightened girl.

That Nara could relate with. Saul had seen her that way. The way few ever did.

Saul. How would Saul react to this? Would he try to comfort Bran? Would she stop him? She shook her head. No room for any of that complicated drama. She had to check on Bran. She pressed the button and waited the split second.

Bran tried to be presentable but she had no control yet. When Nara came in she was furiously trying to brush the tears away. Then tried to smile and failed miserably ending in another sob.

Nara frowned and stepped inside the door. She slowly walked closer and sat down on the bed, watching for Bran’s reaction. She looked at Bran a moment sadly. “I won’t make you talk, and I’m not really sure what to do now, but I want you to know I’m here.” She put a hand on Bran’s knee.

“I thought I could take everything.” Bran said softly. “I thought they wouldn’t get to me. Torture is nothing new to me.” She said in a strangled voice.

Nara looked down a moment before answering, “Torture is just pain. Sometimes it leaves scars, but it’s easy to heal from. They invaded you. Took something very precious from you.” She sniffed and looked up as her face reddened from willing away the tears. Her voice shook from the struggle as well. “I won’t lie to you. That never heals. We just have to learn to live with the loss.”

Branwen was silent sure that Nara would not understand. But she did not ask her to leave. Being alone was difficult right now.

Nara looked down again, “Did I ever tell you I was raped by a professor at the Academy? No need to talk about it. Just so you know I know what this is like. Not completely, but an idea.”

"It wasn't even a person. It was a thing. I wanted to stay a virgin for the right man, know I wish I…." She stopped abruptly just-in-time remembering who she was talking to.

Nara wondered if she meant Saul. It didn’t really bother her. She did feel sorry for Bran about that. She just hated the fact that Saul had met her. Maybe if he hadn’t showed up in Bran’s memories, this wouldn’t be an issue. As it wasn’t now. The issue now was Bran was hurt. “I know this won’t mean anything to you, but I wish it were me that this happened to.”

“No! don’t say that. I would not wish this on anyone. It’s okay, Nara.” Bran said quickly. “I am tough.”

Nara gave her a small smile, “Well, I won’t get into this with you again. I hate seeing you have to deal with this, though.”

"I will survive." She brushed the tears away. "How are you?"

“Still screwed up.” Nara smiled, “We can avoid the nightmares together. What do you normally do when you can’t sleep?”

"Ignore them." She said honestly. "Somehow it is not working this time."

Nara nodded and looked around. She nodded toward the common room, “Poker?”

"Why not. I guess both of us are not going to fall asleep straightaway." She got out of bed wiping the last tears away.

Nara shrugged as she stood, “I didn’t even plan on it.”

“I have to work tomorrow.” Bran sighed. “Comforting others. It is hard right now.”

Nara shook her head, “Says who? I’m sure no one would blame you if you took a few days off.”

"I can't. There are so many people have been through something traumatic, and they need help." She said emphatically.

“Yea, and what about you? You’re no good to them until you deal with your own stuff.” She said it softly, but firmly. “No one expects a doctor to be immune to disease and it wouldn’t be fair to assume a counselor is immune to emotional damage.”

“I am a marine, Nara.” She said softly. “Baile would have my hide if I turned all weepy.”

“Baile can screw himself. He knows no one can be like him, and I think he doesn’t want anyone to be like him. He’s told me not to apologize for who I am. You shouldn’t feel sorry for feeling. You’ve been hurt and violated and if you want to cry, those insensitive jerks can go get some of it and see how they react.” Nara thought Baile would likely been able to handle it, but no one else, save perhaps the Klingons or Jem’Hadar would come away without some baggage.

“But he is my boss.” She was scared of facing him but would never admit it.

“Can Commander Dallas overwrite his commands if need be.” Nara shrugged, “But I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. Do what you need to. You may be fine to work. But from what you’ve said before, I don’t think he’d mind you not seeing anyone and just catch up on paperwork or something for a day or two.”

“He would love to hear that I cannot do my therapist job. He doesn’t believe in it anyway.” Bran grumbled.

Nara just looked at her, “I’d like to say you don’t have to tell him. Just say you’re wanting to catch up on the paper work. I really don’t know. The marines work differently than Starfleet.”

"I will think about it." Branwen mumbled.

Nara nodded, “Poker.” She smiled and nodded toward the common room, “I’ll bluff you’re cards outa your hand.”

"You hope. Marines don't lose at poker." At least Branwen smiled.

“Shyea.” Nara huffed as she went to get the cards.

"Days of Peace in a Chaotic Universe"

Naranda Sol Roswell with some NPCs

*****Operations Department*****

"We could probably reserve the Messhall."

Nara shook her head. It was Saia's birthday soon and she wasn't sure what to do for her. She sighed, "I need to look up Trill traditions first, but I'll let you know."

The young officer Nara had been talking to smiled. This woman had called Nara into the office for what Nara thought was something more of a professional capacity. Rather, it was the self-proclaimed party planner of Operations saw Saia'a birthday coming up and wanted to know if she could help.

"Is there anything we can do for you now?"

Nara smiled, "I would like to reserve a holodeck."

After setting a date and time, she left the Operations office. She ended up in Ten Forward, sitting at her normal table, staring at the stars.

She felt almost guilty for being in such a good mood with all that was going on at large.

Saul was back. Though still nervous about the Jem'Hadar, she had lost most paranoia they would take over as she figured they would had done so already. She kept her guard up, but was no longer anxious about Saia's new friend. He would even be invited to her birthday. If Trills did birthday parties.

She was well aware of what was going on. Of the returning a dead man to his homeworld that one of their own killed. How would they recieve the Galaxy?

There were things to trouble her if she thought of them, but she couldn't help but watch the time for when she could see Saul again.

"Is this seat taken?"

She looked up to see what appeared to a human of Native American decent. He looked muscular, yet held himself with meekness. She smiled shaking her head, "No."

He said and stated, "Watching the stars for the stars or for the thoughts in your mind?"

She looked back out at the stars thinking how poetic this man spoke, "A little of both." She looked back at him, "What brings you to this corner of Ten Forward?"

He smiled brighter, "Something more fascinating than the stars caught my eye."

She let out a small giggle and shook her head. Saul and she had not said to be exclusive, yet she still did not find herself able to be attracted to anyone. Even a fine speciman as this. "I'm Naranda."

"My name is Running Tree."

She tried not to laugh, "Running Tree? Parents like oxymorons?"

He chuckled at that, "Better than Dripping Nose."

She laughed as well. An awkward silence fell over them as he finally asked, "How long until your next shift?"

She sighed, looking at him, "Waiting for someone."

He smiled sadly seeing her meaning, "I see."

Nara watched him leave, enjoying the eye candy. She giggled thinking how interestng to enjoy the view but not wanting to do anything with it.

Her eyes went back to the stars and her mind back to her thoughts.

"A meeting"

(backpost)

Lt. Ella Grey
Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell

*****

It was a bit strange, Ella decided as she waited for Nara to arrive. All the time that she had spent in pursuit of a career in Starfleet and she had finally achieved Chief of Engineering, no matter how temporary. And now what was there, for you couldn't very well become High Chief of Engineering or Overlord of Engineering, not unless you had serious clout with the Federation and a throne made out of dilythium crystal. It almost made her start to wonder if this was what she really wanted, when it was all said and done.

Oh, well. A bit too late now, Ella thought with a shrug.

Nara made her way to the meeting in Engineering, finally, again, not dreading it. O'Shea wouldn't be there. Though Nara had started to not dread it before Devil Woman decided to show who she REALLY was and run off. She was getting really weary of her trust being screwed with. Saul was lucky she had made a stubborn decision to ignore his strange actions. And the fact he'd been gone for a long time. He was lucky all she was mad about was him making her worry, thinking he was lying cold and hungry in a black hole somewhere.

As she entered, she stood to attention before Ella. There wasn't really any need other than to be cheeky with the new Chief.

Ella made an ordeal of blowing across her fingers and then polishing them on her shoulder and then laughed. "Sit down."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Nara militarily barked.

"Oh, hush." Ella said but she smiled. "It'll be a short meeting, I just want to go over what we have and have not found."

Nara's good humor faded as she considered it. "She was good enough to not leave many clues. We may want to have Intelligence help. They're better at finding things out by a string of hair." And it came to Nara that O'Shea was awfully weary of Nara's association with Saul when he worked there. "Thinking back, I think she tried to avoid them. She sure didn't like the idea that I was fraternizing with an Intelligence officer. Course, she could had just plain not liked me at all."

Ella shrugged. There was no way of knowing exactly what the woman had been thinking. "We're keeping Intelligence updated for now. No need to have them crawling around the jeffries tube with us. All of the diagnostics I have run have come up clean. You?"

Nara frowned shaking her head, wishing she could had found something.

Ella frowned too. They were doing their best and yet she had this feeling that it still somehow wasn't enough. Maybe this was how all department chief's felt. "Well, finish it up and then continue with your usual assignment."

The rest of the reports were spoken out and Nara stayed behind when the others left. She looked at Ella, "Are you the permanent Chief or are they going to send someone else in again?"

"Depends, I guess."

Nara gave her a questioning look.

"On how much damage O'She did and if we can fix it before it's too late." Ella replied. "I don't know if they let you keep Chief if you break down in Romulan space."

"Thinking of other things"

Ella Grey
Branwen London

The beauty of a holographic sun was that you didn't need to put on sunscreen.

Ella stripped down to her bikini and then stretched out on the beach towel. She had all the goodies ready for this little picnic: sandwich and drink, extra towel, a computer PADD loaded with a trashy novel, and a pair of sunglasses. The holodeck was hers for two whole hours and she intended to relax and put all thoughts of booby-traps aside.

She heard a sound and for a moment wondered if Corran had come to visit on his lunch break but then decided that the shuffling footsteps were too hesitant for her boyfriend. Ella rolled over on her side and was surprised to see Branwen approaching. Well, as long as the woman didn't try to counsel her...

Ella tossed Branwen the extra towel. "Welcome to California."

"I saw you had booked this deck. And I thought I would check out the program if you don't mind." Branwen sat down in the sand fully clothed. "This is beautiful."

The engineer nodded. "One of the things I miss about home." She glanced at the counselor briefly to gauge her mood before moving to access chapter two of her novel.

Branwen did not seem to notice her much. She walked to the edge of the water and sat down there playing with the sand and the water, gazing out over the sea.

Ella probably read for half an hour before deciding that it was time for lunch. She looked over to where Bran was. "You want to split my sandwich?"

Bran looked up from her musings. "Sure, sounds good. Kimberly is urging me to eat more." She walked towards the other woman. "You okay?" She didn't really want to go there but it was her duty to ask.

She gave Bran the second half of the sandwich and appeared to think about it."I'm starting to wish I had brought a frisbee."

Branwen stayed quiet. She had never played with a Frisbee as a child. Hell of she had never played much at all.

"I know what you're asking, Branwen." Ella said calmly as she "flipped" to the next page. "But if this is a counseling session then I'm a little underdressed."

Branwen looked at her. "Actually I wasn't. Believe me, I don't really want to talk about this. It is just my duty to make sure that you are coping. Promise me that if you are not you will seek my help or somebody else's and we can drop it."

"Of course." Ella replied. She had no real intention of doing so but she thought she might give Bran a break for once. She set the book aside. "Want to build a sandcastle?"

"Sounds like a good idea." Normally Branwen would never let this slide. But now she had done her duty and she wanted to think about other things.

"The cranky counselor"

Branwen
Samantha

"Do we REALLY have to do this now?" Samantha whined as she entered Branwen's office. "I was in the middle of the best dialogue between my heroine and hunky hero when Mummy dragged me away to come.. here."

Branwen really liked Sam, and she had not seen the girl for too long. She really needed to check how the teenager had come through the ordeal. Only today she found her patience short with the girl. As with everybody else.

"Yes we do. please sit, Sam and explain to me why you have been avoiding me." She said looking up from her paperwork.

"I haven't." The younger girl said in an offhand tone. "I just haven't had the occasion to see you lately. The universe doesn't revolve around YOU, Branwen. Really!"

"You are a schoolgirl. Furthermore you have been instructed to see me, and you have not turned up at appointments. You think the world turns around you? I have a busy job, and I don't have time to wait around for you."

Branwen barely managed to stay civil.

"What space bug crawled up your shorts?" Samantha asked laughing.

Branwen ignored this. "Sit down, and tell me how you have been."

Sam sat down with a dramatic sigh. "I've been well, I suppose, besides from being disturbed from my creative flow."

"Disturbed, how?" Branwen tried to get her patience back. It was not the girl's fault she was feeling miserable.

"By being interrupted by you and my mother."

"For pity's sake, Samantha. I haven't got all day to listen to you being unreasonable." Branwen snapped.

Samantha's eyes widened. She hadn't thought her counselor capable of, you know, any emotion other than do-gooder. "Seriously Branwen, did someone not get their bowl of wheaties this morning or what?"

"Of course not. I am just trying a different track with you, young lady."

"What's wrong?" Samantha asked gently.

That did it, it was completely the wrong thing to say, and in blew Branwen's top. "What is it with you people! Have I got a sign hanging down my back saying I am pathetic or something. For the 629th time, I am fine! Now shut up and be counseled!" Branwen took a deep breath.

Samantha didn't like her gesture of goodwill thus brushed aside. She crossed her arms and pointedly looked away.

"Samantha....!" Branwen said impatient. "I have talked to Kimberley you know."

"So?"

"So! Is that all you can say, you stupid little girl!" Branwen blew all stops.

The girl widened her eyes again and then blinked them innocently. "Me?"

"Do you have any idea what could have happened in your down there? What those people did to women? Did you think at all!" She had to take a couple of deep breaths. "I shouldn't be doing this yet." She muttered. "Kimberley and I are going to talk to you together." It was clear she was extremely agitated.

"Well, since she isn't here," The girl said in an icy tone. "Maybe we should wait until next time or until the midol kicks in."

"Don't you start with me." Branwen behaved very differently than she did normally with the girl. "And you are not going anywhere, Kimberley and Sarah Jane will be here shortly. And after that I have to talk to your parents as well. Have you told them about it already?"

"You talked to my PARENTS?" Sam asked incredulously. "Isn't that like a breech of client-patient confidentiality or something?"

"You haven't listened closely, I said I have to talk to your parents. And Samantha, I would have expected you of all people to read the small print. There are instances when a therapist can talk to other people. For example if the patient is a risk to herself or others."

"That's for suicidal or homicidal people." The girl protested. "And I'm neither."

"No, you are only underage." Branwen said calmly.

"Just cause you're having a crappy day...."

"Which has nothing to do wit hit." She was getting her old demeanor back. Maybe Samantha was just what she needed.

"Fine." Samantha scowled, crossing her arms again. "We'll wait till they get here."

"Suits me." Branwen answered her. "Why don't you do some homework until they get here?"

"Conditional Healing." Part 2

(Takes place immediately after Part 1)

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer

Lieutenant Branwen London
Furies Counsellor

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

Branwen grumbled but she could not get out of this.

Running the scanner over Branwens hand she was glad to see Bran had been more or less telling the truth, there was a small amount of swelling, but otherwise her hand looked fine. Surreptitiously switching the scanner to a broader scan range she let it linger for a moment to let it get a good look at Branwen then smiled, "looks good, you might find your hand swelling a little later, looks like you took quite a swing, would you like something, or will you replicate some ice when you get back to your desk?" she asked, glancing at the scan results.

"I will replicate some ice. Don't worry, it's not the first time I have had to deal with this. Marine, remember."

"Just thought I'd ask," she reassured the girl with a smile, "and hey I'm sorry if I worried you earlier, I guessed it was personal but you did hit a senior officer, if he'd tried to report it I assure you I'd have helped you as best I could," she promised.

She relaxed a little getting up again. "I understand. It's just that I am a little bit tense lately. I guessed this talk will just be routine, to appease Saul. You know there's nothing wrong with me."

Sighing, "Branwen, I do like you, but you of all people know those who say that exact phrase are the ones we need to sit down with. Now I don't want to 'make' you do anything you don't want to, but as a senior officer I'd be remiss in my duties if I didn't follow this up, now we can sit down together for a few sessions and talk, or we can make it official, which I know you don't want. I've noticed you've been more than a 'little' bit tense lately, you're still not eating much, and you're not telling me when something's wrong, so in my 'professional' opinion, we talk."

"Okay, if you want to, we will talk a few times." Branwen smiled, making as if it was no big deal. "I think my shift starts soon. So I had better get going."

"One more thing," pausing the marine with a hand on her shoulder she returned to the biobed and uploaded the tricorders memory to the bed, "there's just one more thing," checking Branwen's file and the scan results carefully she selected what she needed and had it beamed directly to the bed and then cleared the beds memory. After a moment she returned to Branwen holding a small box and a small PADD, "have a read of the instructions on the PADD," she explained simply, offering the two items to Branwen, "if you've any questions you can call me, but I will need to see you for a follow up in a few days about this, okay."

"Sorry?" Branwen tried playing innocent.

"It's a topical cream, for irritation," she explained in a low voice, "my tricorder picked up something, so I just ran it through the computer," she lied slightly, "this should help, but what I'd like to know is why you didn't come and see me? That must be really irritating you?"

She stared at the box blushing. Then she put it down again. "It won't help, I can't get clean."

Trying not to let her eyebrows crawl over her head and down the back of her neck in surprise Kimberly picked up the box and PADD, "Oh?" she asked quietly, looking around to make sure they weren't about to be disturbed or overheard, "I'm not sure I understand."

Branwen whispered as well. "I try to clean myself. But it won't come off. I keep feeling so dirty. It's like I can still feel them inside me."

"Oh," Kimberly replied, knowing very well what she meant, and the main ward of the ship wasn't the time or place for this chat, "This way," she said simply, taking Branwen by the elbow she lead her out of the main ward and to her office shushing any protests before Branwen could even utter them, looking at her aide as she passed, "Arrietty, unless it's an emergency, no disturbances please."

Branwen feebly said that she had to get to work again. But her heart was not in it.

"Branwen, why didn't you come and see me sooner?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Because I am dirty. Everybody thinks I am dirty. And you... you saw it all... You know."

Indicating two comfy chairs at the side of the office Kimberly briefly found herself wishing for a different office for these sorts of chats, and made a note to get a counselling office set aside for her to use, preferably one with windows. Letting Branwen sit first she walked to the replicator and got a large jug of iced water and two glasses, "Yes, I was there," she remembered only too well, "I'm still curious as to why you've waited so long?" ~ Marine mentality? ~ she thought to herself though as she put the water down ans sat opposite Branwen.

"I was dealing with it in my own way. Not much I can do about it." Branwen said defiantly.

"Why not?" Kimberly asked simply as she poured some water.

Branwen got to her feet again. "Look, I promised to talk to you later. I have to go to work now."

~ One stubborn Marine! ~ she thought with a resigned feeling she wasn't going to get anywhere today, ~ But then, these things take time! ~ she reminded herself, "Okay then, but first," holding out the packet and PADD again Kimberly looked to her with a frown, "take these, please, and I'll schedule us some time to talk, okay."

"Fine." With a red-face she took it from Kimberley, having no intention whatsoever to use it.

"Good, I'll also schedule you a follow up for that, okay... I'm just trying to be helpful," she explained in a softer tone, "I realise you must be embarrassed, and upset, but I just want you to know I'm here if you need me, okay."

"I know." She softened a little as well. "It's just we are both busy. Save it for patients that really need it." "I am," she replied with a pointed look at ranwen, nodding to the door, "Now, if you've got to go to work then scoot girl, but I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Yes. That's fine. It would give her a little respite to get her thought gathered and her defences back up. See you tomorrow." With that Bran left.

Watching her leave Kimberly sat and thought for a moment, then turned to her computer and called up Branwen's file and started reading, and reminding herself as she did to check when the last time Branwen had taken any leave, ~ She's always citing work, so let's see... ~

"Pleasantries"

2nd Lt. Branwen London
Chief Psychologist, XO Marine Corp
USS Galaxy

Ensign Kale Danal
Counselor, USS Galaxy (Wrote by Trey)

Branwen was staring into her ice tea. She could not believe how stupid she had been today. First she had broken the jaw of the one-man on the ship that she truly loved, and she couldn't even tell somebody about it. Second because of a she would have to have counseling chats with Kimberley, her friend. Something she was definitely not looking forward to. Branwen firmly believed in putting the past behind her by shutting it out. Of course not where it came to her own patients, but it worked for her. It really did, truly.

Entering the lounge, Kale's form was clad in casual clothing as he surveyed the room. Tenforward was always bustling with people unless the ship was at alert, so the slight volume present was normal. Kale though didn't seem to mind as he strode toward the bar and ordered a drink. Once it was in hand he turned and looked around the room, noticing a few people and acknowledging them with a slight nod of head. His attention though was drawn to 2nd Lt. London sitting at table by herself sipping what looked like ice tea, but was she sipping it or looking down in it with deep thoughts circulating inside her mind. Sitting his drink down he walked over.

The Betazoid was of average height and had brown haired and athletic build, his eyes were strikingly blue and his eyes always seemed to have a hint of humor locked into them. His personality was mixture of deep compassion and humor, which his patients always seemed to be comfortable with, though Kale was a man of many talents the one thing he struggled with was the ability to not take everything on himself to handle, such as each burden his patients felt.

"Good evening, Lieutenant. I believe the human phrase is, penny for your thoughts?" He asked then offered his best counseling smile.

"I could, but then I would have to kill you." She smiled. "I am Branwen." She introduced herself to the stranger.

Kale smiled, thought his smile softened when his telepathy noticed the fringe of her mind and the mixture of things he could only describe as deep desperation and self-loathing. "Pleasure to speak with you Branwen, I'm Kale.. Kale Danal, would you like some company or would you prefer to remain quietly by yourself?" Kale asked, hoping she would agree to let him join.

"No please, sit down, kale. I could use some company right now." It was important to put the grief even further away and to look normal to the rest of the crew. Knowing Kimberley she was going to ask questions. Branwen thought she had been careful, she would just have to be even more careful. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure," Kale said and motioned for the waiter. Told the waiter what he wanted. Once he returned the water sat the orange slushy down in front of him. "I can't explain it... I'm completely fixated on the human drink called slushy... all the favors. I sometimes feel so little time to fully enjoy them all." Kale said then smiled as he sipped from the straw.

"Mind if I ask how come you sit alone and look so pensive?" Kale asked as he looked at her with caring eyes.

"No please, sit down, kale. I could use some company right now." It was important to put the grief even further away and to look normal to the rest of the crew. Knowing Kimberley she was going to ask questions. Branwen thought she had been careful, she would just have to be even more careful. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure," Kale said and motioned for the waiter. Told the waiter what he wanted. Once he returned the water sat the orange slushy down in front of him. "I can't explain it... I'm completely fixated on the human drink called slushy... all the favors. I sometimes feel so little time to fully enjoy them all." Kale said then smiled as he sipped from the straw.

"Slushies are good, I like them myself." She admitted. "I have had a busy day, and I am around people all the time, so sometimes I want a little peace and quiet. And not to have to listen to the problems of others." She said. "That is why I might have seemed a little bit pensive. Nothing serious, I can assure you." She added quickly.

"Yes, that must be it." Kale replied as he took a sip from his glass and then looked toward the window. "I work within the counseling department, sometimes I to like the thoughts of having a little quiet time." He said then smiled. "But having a few moments talking with you is a nice welcoming change."

"You are a therapist as well?" She smiled. "Good, I know the Navy department was short staffed. I am the marine shrink, you will run into me from time to time. I also have an office in the counseling section. Sometimes I see naval patients as well. Then you know exactly what I mean, about some peace and quiet."

"A times it can be a thankless job, can it not?" He replied with a smile. "Thank the stars for meditation though, I've found for myself it's what keeps me centered."

"Indeed, and frustrating. People tell you their problems all day, but you cannot tell them anything about yourself. And you have to be cheerful even when you are feeling low. That can sometimes be a drag. I get rid of my frustration by working out. I am a marine remember, meditation doesn't work for me, is only makes me nervous. But it is good if it works for you. Every person is different I guess." She smiled at him again.

"Some say our differences is what makes us strong," he said pausing for a moment. "I think that could account for many views... mental, physical, and even social." Kale said then glanced back to the stars. He wasn't trying to ask her what she was feeling, he was just talking to see if she wanted to go there. "How long have you been stationed here on the Galaxy?" Kale asked.

"A little over a year, I guess. It has been my first posting, and a rollercoaster." She admitted. "Sometimes I feel in completely over my head. Most of the times I do enjoy it." Not at the moment, but she was confident that feeling would returned. It had to.

"I know that feeling as well... this is my first tour of service to." Kale replied. "For someone of my species it's can be hard at times.. I have to continue to remind myself that I can't just talk in telepathic communication. I have to be vocal, the other thing that isn't overly welcome at times is total honesty... which is what my species do since we are all telepaths." He said then shrugged. "Course we do have our dark horses." He said then grinned.

"You like the marine corp.?" Kale asked, picking up his slushie and taking a sip.

"most of the time. You would be surprised, if they get to know you, many of the marines are willing to come in for counseling. Especially because I am one of their own, they trust me. Some of the old school ones can believe in it, but it is a minority." She said animated. "But about you, do you take up everything from everybody all the time?"

"Not familiar with that term, take up everything?" Kale asked.

"Sorry. I think that is a sentence I have made up myself. Sometimes I feel like I am soaking everything up from everybody. And it makes me very tired. I do energy exercises to get rid of it, but it doesn't always work."

Kale looked at her as if getting it now. He then looked off, he had hear something similar but where and when was what he was wondering about now. Looking off he had to think about it. He then looked back to her. "I'm sure it's even more difficult to be a counselor within the marine corp... especially difficult." he said then.

"I thought so at first. And with some people it is, some of the old schoolers. But you would be surprised how many marines welcome the chance to talk when they get to know and trust me. I really think I am doing a lot of good. So I think they should be more marine shrinks in the future. It is easier for them to come to me, then one of you guys." She grinned.

"What about you, surely you know the hardship of having to keep it all in yourself. Haven't you got someone that can be your listener?" Kale asked.

"I have got a therapist like everybody else. Kimberley is mine, the chief medical officer. She used to be a Counselor before. And Commander Dallas is my mentor but I don't like talking about myself." She blushed.

"Most doctors don't." Kale replied with a smile. He then looked down at his finished drink. "Well, I should let you get back to your peaceful wonder." He said then picked up his glass.

"Thank you for stopping by." She smiled. "I enjoyed it. And if you need any help settling in, don't hesitate to ask me."

"I'll keep that in mind, until next time, Lieutenant." Kale said then excused himself with a nod and then turned and headed toward the bar to return his glass and get another slushie.

"The Mouth That Roared"

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer

Ensign Robert Mathieson
Medical Officer

Main Sickbay - USS Galaxy

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

"Tell me when it hurts, A'jex."

Doctor Bob Mathieson had in his hand what may very well be the largest foot in the fleet. The security Ensign was a form of Klingonoid certainly, but not overly large even by the doctor's diminutive stature. His feet, however, defied description - they were massive. As he Doctor poked and prodded, A'jex simply shook his head. "Doctor, for the last time... it's my shin, not my foot that's causing the paAAYYRR!" The sentence was cut off by a stifled yelp.

"Yeah, but the song says the shin bone's connected to the foot bone, my son. And two o' yours are fractured - the smallest of the metatarsus." Looking up at the security officer, he explained. "They're all connected with ligaments. The pain in yer shin is you compensatin' for discomfort in the foot. Step on anythin' odd lately? Trainin' on the holodeck? Trip on somethin' near engineering?"

A'jex grumbled. "Forced march. Rough terrain. It was nothing."

Mathieson smiled. "S'alright, mate. That's what they pay me the big latinum for. Won't be a minute to fix, now we know what the problem is." Taking a cellular regenerator in hand, he positioned it over the Ensign's ankle and calibrated the beam. As the treatment began, Mathieson continued with the patient. "They don't pay me to clip them nails, lad. As they're crammed into yer boot, they're causin' the foot to ball up - can't be too damn comfortable. Made things worse, they did."

Finished, the Doctor gave A'jex a slap to the arm. The Ensign gingerly tested the foot with his full weight, then gave Mathieson a lopsided grin. "Pain's gone."

"Pain's gone." Mathieson answered, grinning back. "Now off with ye. Go and secure somethin'." He watched A'jex put sock and boot back on. ~Jaysus, wot a pair of feet! Nothin'll tip that lad over.~ He shook his head, then proceeded to finish off the incident report and update Ensign A'jex's medical file.

Having been watching from the other side of the ward Kimberly gave Mathieson a moment to do the paperwork and then ambled slowly over, "Ensign?" she said simply as she approached, "do you have a moment? Or are you expecting anyone?"

The bald doctor looked up from the terminal he was working on. "Me slate's clean, Commander. Wot'cher got in mind?"

"Well I was just realising that we haven't really spoken much since you came aboard," she admitted, "so I was hoping to remedy that," smiling suddenly, "though I should ask first, does your accent come with a translator algorithm?" she asked impishly, "where are you from exactly? I've never heard an accent quite like yours?"

"Heh, the bad end of London lass... ooo-er Lieutenant. Sorry! Sorry - sometimes ferget 'oo I'm talkin' to." Mathieson wiped his bald pate in embarrassment. ~Good impression with the new boss, you dodderin' old prat!~ "I was born hearin' the bells of Saint Mary-le-bow in a part o' the city called Cheapside. Alway's thought the dialect was good enough for entry into the universal translator." Recovering both accent and demeanour somewhat, he leaned back on a biobed, still beet red. "Anyways, what can I do for you?"

Smiling at his accent and mode of address Kimberly waved him over to a nearby replicator, "First thing I may be the Chief Medical Officer, but in sickbay, we're all just Doctors here to heal, so I'm Kimberly," she offered, "being CMO just means I get a bigger office, more paper work and the ability to get the last word in most arguments," she ended with a chuckle.

Mathieson grinned, and sent a silent prayer to the gods of old fools and old physicians. ~ At last! A human being department head! ~ "It's 'Bob' to friends and colleagues, and 'that bastard Mathieson' to the paper-pushers at SFM. 'Cor Kimberly, you can have 'em, but don't let 'em suck the life out of ye. Parasites, they are." The Cockney's accent deepened once more as the subject of administration came up, but he restrained it with effort. Politely, he offered Kimberly the first chance to use the replicator.

"Thanks Bob," calling up a coffee she grinned, "The nice thing about being on an explorer though, Starfleet Command is light years away." stepping away from the replicator, "so how have you been settling in?"

The older physician ordered the strongest, blackest tea on the replicator's menu. "Fair to middlin'", he answered. "Never been on a Galaxy class starship before. She's a biggun, that's for sure - my last post in space was the Anchorage, a New Orleans class frigate. A lot of the same design elements of the Galaxy," he pinched his right index finger and thumb together "squashed into a much tinier frame. I dunno if it's old age, but I'm gettin' partial to havin' more room." He took a sip of the scalding hot tea, then smiled. "No - things 'r good. But the question to you is, how have *I* been settling in?"

Letting her slight grin expand to a smile she had to chuckle, "I think you're fitting in just fine from what I've heard and seen so far," she said happily, "I think it's a pleasant change to have someone who's not afraid to tell someone exactly how stupid they've been when they hobble in after doing something stupid on the holodeck," pausing for thought a moment, "though I wouldn't try that on our current XO if I were you," she advised, thinking of the massive Klingon.

"I think I already ran into him. Large chunk o' real estate, he is." Mathieson laughed at the encounter. "Still, there won't be any problems, I'm thinkin'. He's already asked to borrow my recordings of the 'Dahar Master' cycle. Seems my collection of Klingon opera has made me famous in some circles - or perhaps infamous." He shook his head slowly. "No - I've mellowed out a bit in me old age. Or it's been one slap upside the heat enough to finally sink in - 'discretion is the better part of valour' for me these days."

Smiling again at his accent and description of events Kimberly simply hoped the two would keep their love of Klingon opera out of sickbay, "If I recall correctly, your file says you've done some teaching in your time in the fleet, correct?"

Mathieson's eyes widened a bit. "Yeah, 'Xenobioligy and Emergency Medicine in the Field'. It was a nice post until the war broke out - then it was all practice and no theory on DS9. Afterwards, well... the position was filled with someone with less experience and a lot smaller mouth. Still, wouldn't be a bad place to end up if given the chance."

"So you enjoyed the teaching post then?"

The shorter doctor mulled the question for a few seconds. "Yeah. There were good parts and bad parts. Mostly good, but you start to muss the hum of a starship's engines after a while. The students seemed to like me more than the administration, if you catch my drift. Still in contact with some of 'em now that they practice on their own ships."

"Mind if I ask. You were the CMO of the Centaur, what happened there?"

Mathieson's answer was slower yet in reply. "Well... it was some - bad business, really. Too full of my own piss and vinegar, I suppose." He continued with his voice lower and deeper. "The Centaur was assigned to deal with the Maquis after the Cardassian Union demanded the Federation deal with some of its own - lots o' Starfleet personnel sympathized with the Maquis cause. Lots of old friends, too."

He took a deep sip of the hot darjeeling tea to calm his nerves rubbed so raw by looking at memories long buried. "Understand - I was CMO of the Centaur fr' almost three years, but never got Captain Reynold's 'seal of approval'. Reynold's is an excellent Captain, but definitely the 'blood n' guts' type. 'E persued Maquis raiders like a pit-bull with the scent of blood - and when victorious, he was absolutely without mercy. Gave me a direct order not to treat ex-Starfleet Maquis prisoners in sickbay. Arrested me when I treated 'em in the brig. Heh, good ol' Charlie Reynolds. Would bust a gut laughin' if he saw me now."

"He had you busted for treating an injured person?" shaking her head, there had been some notes on this, mainly about the failure to follow a direct order in his file, "I suppose the big question is, would you do it again if a similar situation cropped up?"

"Maybe I'd give it more thought. Some of the Maquis prisoners were friends o' mine" Mathieson replied. "I guess you need to know where I stand on things." He looked the CMO directly. "I'm a doctor, and this year I'm due my thirty-year service ribbon - something I'm pretty damn proud of. I'm also pretty damn proud of all the work I've done in those thirty years. Medically speaking, I'm on the top of me game. Human, Vulcan, Klingon, Cardassian, Romulan, Gorn, Hydran, Llyran, Orion, Breen, Bajoran, Vorta, Jem'Hadar - I've seen an awful lot of different patients with thousands of different ailments, and I'm wise enough to know there's still a vast amount to learn. If there's a sticky situation needin' a doctor - here or in the field - I'm your man. I'll never imperil another livin' thing if I can 'elp it, but if a line's drawn in the sand - I'm a doctor first. The officer part just provides the transportation and a place to hang me shingle."

Nodding in agreement Kimberly found herself liking him, especially his attitude about not wanting to imperil another, it was an attitude she had to like, "I'm sort of the opposite to you in some ways Bob, it's no secret around here I'm a fairly green Doctor, I came into this job directly from my Internship on Thera," she explained simply, "before that I was the Chief Counsellor of the Relentless, I know how to run a department, I'm a fully qualified counsellor and doctor, but, hell Bob, you've been practicing medicine for longer than I've been alive," she explained with a bemused look, "you've been a CMO, and all positions between, several times," she added with a wry look.

"Awright, awright, don't rub it in", Mathieson laughed. "At least I'm not cleanin' bedpans, but the day's not over yet. Wot've you got in mind, Kimberly?"

"What I'm thinking is this, you've a lot of experience, and it'd be a damn shame to waste it. I'm looking for someone to run an EMT course for interested crew, and periodic courses, as well as be around to help me when I need it. I'm not ashamed to ask questions or ask for help, but the EMH and the computer aren't the best tools for that, they're 'too' literal sometimes, and we recently lost some of our more experienced hands during recent events at Junction. Basically, I'm looking for someone to fill a recently created and somewhat unofficial position of Medical Department Teaching Officer. Interested?" Laying it out simply, she watched for his reaction, when she had seen his file she had realised his experience would be perfect for this job, and now she'd had a few days to watch him work she was happy to give him the chance to do it.

Mathieson rubbed his bald pate as he sipped his tea. "I really don't know what to say. Given me last fond embrace with the administration, I honestly thought I'd be swabbin' VD samples for the Starfighter Corps." He finished his tea and took a good, long stare at the ceiling. "Yeah, I'm real interested. Fer me, the position couldn't be a better spot. But wot aout yerself? My 'curriculum vitae' reads like the blow-by-blow accounts of the Klingon-Romulan peace talks. I don't *want* to be difficult, but sometimes I just can't help reactin' when I'm faced wi' a big, steaming pile of stupidity. Can you cope with 'the mouth that roared'?"

"Bob, I'm willing to forgive the little things most of the time, especially if they're done for a good reason, so what say we just take this day by day for now and see how we go?" stepping away from the replicator she smiled, "first order of business I guess is to find you a classroom to use, one with a small office as well, so let's go have a look around shall we, see what we have."

"Heh, Kimberly - if your willin' to put up with me shenanigans, I'll do one better. I've got an obscene amount of holodeck time banked - I just love the real thing too much to idle me locked up in a room full 'o smoke and mirrors." Mathieson's grin spread. "The subject is emergency medicine - let's 'ave it set in a simulated emergency. More often that ye'd like, you're workin' on a kid with bad light, cramped quarters, little or no resources - and sometimes the chaos of a battlefield. Let's cook up a couple of scenarios we're likely ti see in the field. Sound like a cunning plan?"

"Sounds like a great place to start," she agreed readily, "I have a basic training and EPP plan laid out, perhaps we can look at that later as well?" she asked as she pushed off the wall towards the door.

The older doctor just smiled and shrugged. "Yer' the boss!"

"Distractions"

Lt Teyri Jen

*****

Jen leaned back into her couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table to stretch out. She had a PADD next to with her a couple of updates that she needed to read, as well as the latest celebrity rag downloaded onto it. She been falling way behind in her interstellar gossip lately, although that was to be expected on the Galaxy. She had been steadily reading her way through various reports and updates flagged by Corran, but her eyes needed a break. hen she'd read the same line five times without any of the information registering, it was time to do something else. She'd idlely flipped through a couple of stories from the star mag, but then just as quickly laid it aside.

For now, she was content to stare up at her ceiling, occasionally take a drink from her water, but just to simply be, and let her mind end up where it wanted to.

Forefront at her mind were the interlinking problems (if that wasn't too strong a word, since her involvement was almost peripheral to it) of Corran, Pad, and her. She'd enjoyed her time with Pad, including the subsequent liaisons, even more so since they came with no strings attached. She couldn't help but overhearing the ...discussion that Corran and Pad had been involved in in the shuttlebay, and she'd heard her own name mentioned once or twice as she drifted closer to hear better.

Nasty habit, eavesdropping. Or so her mother always told her, at least. It was something that she agreed on, definitely, but there were times when she just couldn't help it. Like that time.

Granted, the old cliché about eavesdroppers never hearing anything good about themselves also held true most of the time.

She was sure what to think, leaving that conversation. There was definitely a history between the two of them, but Pad had made that pretty clear during one of their conversations. That came as no surprise to her. it was, however, surprising to hear Corran advocating her as a potential long term partner for Pad, and it was with mixed feelings that she heard Pad turn down the idea. She wasn't looking for anything serious, that was for sure, but if something did happen between the two of them... would that be so bad?

She'd become uncomfortable as the discussion degraded into something that was supposed to be private between the two of them, she knew. Although, she thought, in her defense, if they wanted it to remain private, they should have held the conversation somewhere other then a shuttle bay with extremely good acoustics.

She'd become even more uncomfortable shortly after that, when Corran began revealing what his past hosts had done, ranging from the bad to the truly horrible. She'd fled shortly into the recitation. She liked her boss, and she didn't want her opinion of him to be skewed by events that he'd had no control over. Things that had actually happened to some else. Sort of.

Interactions with a Trill were interesting. She didn't know how anybody could handle it. Current scuttle had Corran shacking up with an Engineer, a Lieutenant named Grey. Maybe this lieutenant Grey didn't know the whole story, but she wondered how the woman managed to keep the lines drawn, and not let past lives color any part of her current relationship. If things proceeded anywhere wit pad, then maybe she'd have a reason to seek he out, have her question answered, but for now... Well, there was no reason to search her out simply to satisfy a curiosity. A curiosity that had absolutely no bearing on anything she was doing at the moment. literally or figuratively.

Jen sighed, and scratched her calf with the top of her other foot, recrossing her legs the other way when she was done. It might have more bearing on her current situation, at least with her superior, than it might at first glance. After being stranded on that damned planet, Jen had seen a new side of Corran, something that didn't quite mesh yet.

She didn't know Corran all that well. Serving as his XO gave her a pretty good insight into the way his mind worked when at came to the Vanguards, and things work-related - at least so far - but she sill didn't feel like she knew much about the Trill behind the mask, as it were. And that feeling was only intensified when she saw him shoot as though he'd been born with a phaser in his hand. Using it as a natural extension of his body. She knew enough to know that one didn't get that much comfort and precision without lots of practice. And she wasn't naive enough to think that he'd gained his experience by shooting at paper targets.

Intellectually, Jen knew that being in the Starfighter Corps meant that she was in the business of killing. Of shooting the other guy before he could shoot her. Kill or be killed, and all those other clichés. She knew that every time she pulled the trigger in her cockpit, deadly fire would lance out from her ship, seeking to cause as much damage as possible when it reached it's target. She didn't have the false face of Starfleet to hide behind, the one of explorer first and foremost, the one of reluctant warrior. Technically, the whole purpose of Starfleet was to explore the universe, finding answers to the age old questions of life, the universe, and everything. They only bore arms because they forced into that position, or protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. Not so with the Starfighter Corps. They joined up to protect the innocent, of course, and anyone else ho came along, but they - nor she - didn't try to delude themselves that they had joined up to do anything but kill the enemy. It might all be for the greater good, of course, but the point remained.

It had taken Jen, surprisingly, a little bit of time to get used to the idea that she was now, for better or worse, a weapon of Starfleet, even more then the rest of Starfleet proper was. The only saving grace, at least in her blackest hours, laying awake in bed in the middle of the night, was that she didn't see the destruction, the carnage, right at hand. The exploding fireball that her enemies could become was many hundreds and thousands of kilometers distant from her, so there was no way, short of imagination, that she could see the look on her opponent's face as she beat them to the kill.

Unlike being on the planet. With the lives that she had taken herself, albeit only a few of them, and with those that Corran had mown down without showing any more emotion then she would have been cutting flowers from the stem, it had brought that fact up and shoved it right in her face, forcing her to look at it, and ultimately, accept it.

Which she had done, and in a shorter time then she would have originally thought. it was her job, after all, and if she didn't do it, then who would? What made her stop and think, consider here in the quietness and solitude of her quarters, was the empty look on Corran's face as he had done it.

He had felt nothing. It was as if they had been the paper targets that some choose to practice with. Not a living, breathing being - sure, the enemy had set out to kill them first, but that wasn't the point of her internal wandering.

And now, it just made her look at him askance. Intellectually, she knew that he was still the same person that he had always been, but her gut reaction had nothing to do with her brain. She looked at him and saw an emotionless killer, at least when the situation called for it. It was so radically different from anything she was used to that she found herself shying away from him. And he knew it. She could see it in his eyes whenever she was around him. It pained him, at least a little, that his XO was so uncertain around him.

Her only other option was to resign, though. If she couldn't trust Corran, wasn't sure around him, then there was no reason for her to be in the position of his most trusted lieutenant. It wasn't fair to him and it wasn't fair to the rest of the Vanguards who believed that their command team was a cohesive unit, able to lead them in battle or peace without any personality frictions to get in the way.

But now she was doing nothing but going in circles in her own mind. She dropped her feet down from the coffee table, looking around. Suddenly the peace and quiet of her quarters was simply oppressive, and she needed to get out. Needed to stop thinking about events that she had no control over. Jen shrugged her shoulders, then went over to her console to comm Pad, see if they could get into any trouble that night. She needed the distraction, and that was definitely right up Pad's alley.

"High noon"

J. Andrus Suder (as written by Mekaela)

Lieutenant Saul Bental

****** Capitol City - Ki Baratan ******

Andy stared coldly at his contact and then asked, in as urbane a tone as he could manage, the Romulan to repeat what he had just said.

Ten minutes later he was swearing in earnest.

*******

"Oh, stop being so melodramatic." Grax said, looking up from his computer. "You're not actually going to do anything to the man so could you please stop with the homicidal fantasies?"

From his place on the couch, Andy glowered at the ceiling and continued to take a childish delight in imagining the various ways to dismember his now ex-contact.

The ambassador rolled his eyes. "You should be trying to find a new exit for your defector."

"I'm allowing myself a fifteen minute homicide break." Andy snapped back at the man.

But, of course, Grax had a point. Sulking in the ambassador's office was not going to get defector #3 a way out of the capitol. Damn his contact and his stinking tub of a ship. Andy hoped they both caught on fire upon exiting theplanet's atmosphere.

"You're much more agreeable with less caffeine." The other man commented.

Andrus sat back up and glowered at the coffee table. Now I have to secure yet another new exit, he snarled telepathically at the Ambassador. :: How the hell am I going to do that on such short notice? ::

:: Can one of your other contacts secure an exit? ::

Andy shook his head. :: And I have nothing to offer some of the other well-known freight handlers of this nature. I don't have the time to track down someone who can give me something to offer one of them either. And then I still have to secure my own exit ::

He looked over at the ambassador with a raised eyebrow.

:: I'm leaving directly after the funeral. :: The ambassador told him. :: I've already informed them that I need to leave earlier than that but am staying out of respect for Omar. ::

Andy nodded and leaned back down. At least that was one less person that he had to worry about.

He scowled back at the ceiling. Tekkie better the hell forgive him in another life.

"Ah," The ambassador commented from his desk. :: You're doing all this for a woman.::

Andrus threw out a wry smile. :: Mostly. I screwed her over in our last dealing so this is my apology, not that she'll ever know about it. Also, I don't like oppressive governments. ::

The ambassador chuckled. :: Always have to find a cause, Andrus, don't you? ::

Andrus smiled. "More often than not they find me."

***

t'Noir sat in his small back office, reminiscing. The man he just spoke with seemed quite irritated with his refusal. Some aliens, the Romulan thought, are too sensitive when it come to business. The minute you start to barter, they begin to sweat.

Refusing Andrus became even easier for the Romulan thanks to the message he received that morning. It seemed that aliens were literally standing in line to do business with him today. He asked his assistant, a Vorducaat named Zalki (though he cared not for her name) to contact him with Joord.

Two minutes later the image of the Human appeared on his dusty screen. The Romulan interlaced his fingers, and raised his brow in a manner that made him look almost Vulcan.

Joord greeted him in Romulan, and t'Noir returned the greeting, of all languages, in Terran Dutch.

"I'm afraid my opinion changed slightly since our last conversation.", He added.

"Good. So you see the rational behind the offer I made. That's excellent.", Joord replied. His fingers toyed with that hair growth above his upper lip -mustache, it was called in Federation Standard - as he always did when he thought that a deal was about to be closed. t'Noir was about to disappoint him.

"I'm afraid that we're not done yet. It seemed that another person is interested in my services, at about the same time."

Joord did not seem to be moved by the notion. "Twice the profits for you. Congratulations."

"Ah, but as someone who knows me for years, you must know that I devote myself to one task at a time. That is the only way to assure complete success and maintain my high reputation."

Joord shook his head. "Ah, good ole t'Noir, always trying to squeeze an extra bar of Latinum. Are you sure you're not a Ferengi?"

t'Noir raised the other brow as well. "Insults will get you nowhere."

"So will empty threats. It will probably end with both me and the other client seeking another contact in Ki Baratan."

"You'll find that the Capitol is not a friendly place toward aliens."

"Too bad, it could be an excellent tourist trap."

t'Noir leaned back in his chair. He always had a hard time bartering with Joord. The Human's 'humor' did not humor him at all; On the contrary, he almost always finished their conversations with a moderate head ache.

Nonetheless, business in the last four years with him were fruitful. Now, t'Noir found himself in the middle of a business dilemma. After failing to convince either of his two clients to increase their payment in light of their new competition, he had to decide whether to offer his services to an old acquaintance, or risk the business relations with that acquaintance in favor of the newer client. And even after he makes up his mind, there's still the open issue of which means of transportation to use in order to do the job.

Then, a greedy thought penetrated his mind. Why not both? Yes, it was more risky, but for months now he wished to move to a bigger, cleaner office with a Romulan secretary who had more brains than the bald Amphibian moron he hired nowdays.

"You say your contact will reach Ki Baratan within the next couple of weeks?"

Joord seemed uncomfortable with answering this, t'Noir noticed. Eventually, the light-haired Human shook his head.

"I may have a creative solution that will not cost you as much it would to purchase my services exclusively."

"All right.", Joord consented, "But I'm not in the mood for games. As far as I'm concerned, I can back off right now. Also, despite what you may believe, you have some competition, too."

t'Noir snorted. "Now you're the one playing games.", He said, and motioned toward his secretary to close the channel.

****** USS Galaxy - en route to Romulus ******

It took Saul Bental five minutes to remove the fake mustache, cheek bones and wig, and then to disconnect all the technical gadgets that helped him hold the conversation through all the relay station and using encryption protocols and hidden layers. If anyone was casually scanning the Galaxy's outgoing subspace communications, he would see a pre-recorded conversation between Saul and an old friend from the Academy.

He exited the bathroom and returned to the main hall where Chava lay on the bed, reading a book. She put it down on her tummy, and flashed a smile at him. "Who's the lucky girl? You never called me from the bathroom"

"That, Chava, is what you choose to believe."

******

For every job he ever had, Andrus usually gained a new habit or vice to help him cope. That job on Earth had had him fixated on reading terran historical novels while the last job had introduced him to dabo games. For obvious reasons, his hobbies on the Risa job were probably his favorite.

Andy didn't even care to guess how much coffee he had consumed over the past five hours.

He turned with the purpose of bullying one of his contacts into moving two of his transports when he heard the computer chirp with a new message. Frowning he walked over, sat down, and answered it. He couldn't quite hide his surprise. "'Noir? What the hell do you want?"

t'Noir tilted his head. "Why, given your current standpoint, I expected you to be happy to see me."

"Ecstatic." Andrus growled.

t'Noir interlaced his fingers and bent forward, casting a shadow on the dusty screen. "To be frank, Mister Andrus, you will find no one else in Ki Baratan willing to help you in the given timeframe."

Romulans were never frank, but both t'Noir and Andrus knew that it was the truth.

"However, I have an idea that would help you solve the problem. It will cost you more, of course, and the... cargo... will have a less comfortable and more risky trip, but that's the best I can offer at this short notice."

Andrus frowned because there was nothing else he could do. "What did you have in mind?"

"A Motion for Emotion"

Lt. Cmdr. Brian Elessidil
Asst. Chief Counselor

Ensign T'Rei
Security Officer

T'Rei wandered around the corridors for what felt like an eternity. She had done the usual checking in required by all 'newbies' except for the first counseling appointment. She was not looking forward to at all. It was going to be rough….or at least interesting, to say the least. Running her fingers through her auburn hair, she located the office of the person she had an appointment with.

Pushing the chime, she patiently waited until she heard the audible permission to enter.

As this was his first counseling session since returning from the Vaden mission, Brian was rather eager to get back into the normal routine: an interesting contrast to how he felt preparing for the mission, looking forward to something other than the normal routine. At the sound of the chime, he invited the young woman whose file he'd read over the night before to come in, as he rose from the chair behind nicely ordered desk.

"Ensign T'Rei….I have an appointment with you," she stated as she walked in.

Elessidil extended his hand and smiled. "So you do. Please, make yourself comfortable," he said, gesturing to the collection of comfortable chairs and couch where most people preferred to sit. "Well . . . as comfortable as possible," he added with a chuckle in an effort to make T'Rei feel a little more at ease in what was always a tense situation, especially for younger officers.

Sitting, she left her legs uncrossed and assumed a rather rigid posture.

"That's comfortable?" Brian asked with a slight raise of the brow. From what little he'd gleaned from T'Rei's file, it wouldn't have surprised him if that was the only way she knew how to sit.

"Yes." She stated rather flatly.

As was his usual custom when someone came in for an appointment, the counselor went to the replicator for something to drink. "Can I get you anything, Ensign? Water? Tea? Juice of some kind?" You could get a pretty good sense of someone just by their response to that question alone, in addition to hopefully making the other person a little more at ease.

"I'm in no need of refreshment at this time. Thank you." She kept her gaze upon him stoic, with no hint of emotion.

Taking his seat opposite her, the Betazoid already had a strong impression of T'Rei's disciplined mind, even without trying. It was a rather disorienting sense to get from a Terran, leading him to silently wonder if she and Lieutenant Hunter had had their bodies switched at birth. "Welcome to the Galaxy, Ensign. I understand this is your first assignment. How's it going so far?"

"It is adequate. What else would it be, Counselor?" T'Rei inwardly was shaking and anxious to get through this visit. She couldn't let him know what she had discovered about herself just before the appointment, it was too jarring even for her mind. The ensign had discovered something that would change her forever as she sat rigid in the chair. At this point, she couldn't let anyone know of the document she received from a secretive source. It just "showed up" in her message box and revealed that the young ensign was an experiment. A Vulcan experiment on the ramifications of training Terrans in the Vulcan ways. The experiment posed the question as to if a Terran could really handle the discipline it took to keep a Vulcan mind set. As utterly useless and stupid as it was to T'Rei, it was a wealth of information to the race that adopted her when she was young.

"I was hoping you might tell me," he succinctly but gently replied. It took only a few seconds more for him to begin to realize that there was more than classic well-disciplined Vulcan stoicism at work here. What he felt from her seemed more akin to an almost emotional paralysis, the kind that usually resulted from incidents of significant psychological trauma. Whatever it was, he wanted the young ensign to try to identify and reveal it herself; he wouldn't telepathically dig further unless it clearly became necessary. "I know it's a very atypical question to ask of a Vulcan -- or someone with a Vulcan upbringing -- but is something troubling you, Ensign?"

She nodded her head....it hit her....a Betazoid. Wonderful, just peachy she thought with a inner voice laced with anger. "Ya know...yeah, I do have a problem." Standing up, she retracted the pad that she had been carrying from a small purse like clutch. A slightly irritated voice had replaced the non-emotional one. Practically tossing the padd to him, she let it fly as she started to pace, her anger truly exposing herself. Walking back over, she placed both her palms on his desk. "Why don't you take a minute and read that?"

Brian took a few moments to read the information. He understood now what was at the heart of her previously silent reaction, and while he felt increasing shock and revulsion with every word, he knew she was the one who needed to express her feelings on the matter.

"Yes, counselor....I'm a freakin' experiment. How's that for revelation?" Sitting down, she arched her one eyebrow then obviously showed disgust at doing so. "All my life! All my life I spent being reprogrammed so they could 'study' me. Well, ya know what! I'm sick....I'm really quite sick of it all. I'm not an experiment.....I do have feelings.....I'm human damn it." She leaned forward in her chair. "You know what this means, don't you?"

The counselor chose to remain silent and to let her do the talking that was so crucial at this time, cocking his head and raising his eyebrows slightly in a patiently inquisitive manner.

"We are going to be spending a lot of time together...I'm really screwed up." T'Rei stated, half chuckling to herself as she shook her head. She paused for a moment, glancing up, apology spread across her features. "Sorry. That wasn't logical." Realizing what she just said, she shook her head, closed her eyes, and sighed. Opening her eyes, she searched his for some sign of acceptance. "I'm not mad, am I?"

"Ensign, if this is reliable information, you just found out you were the unwitting subject of a scientific experiment. I'd say you're reacting as any sane person would, including someone who really was Vulcan," he gently replied. "This was not only illegal by any government's standards that I'm aware of, it was an insidious violation of your individual rights. You're very understandably and justifiably affected by this report, but you are not 'screwed up' -- emotion *is* the 'logical' reaction in this situation. In fact, I think you should be ready to experience a lot of emotions over this revelation, and I definitely think this is the best place to work through all that. And once you've begun to understand how you're feeling about this and how to manage your reactions in the best possible way, you're going to have to consider what you will do next." Pausing for a moment, he set the padd down on the table between them before continuing. "All that is going to take some time, but first, I'd like to understand a little more about the information itself. How did you come by it?"

"It just arrived in my message box. I attempted to trace it.....but I was not able to find the source that it came from," she stated firmly.

Brian replied with a quietly thoughtful "hm..." as he pondered her response. "I'm a little uncomfortable with that...I would think you would be as well. This is a pretty serious issue just to take on blind faith, don't you think?"

"Why wouldn't I take it on blind faith? It's exactly what I need to solidify a reason for exhibiting free emotion. I mean, have you ever had experience working with someone who has repressed emotion for a long period of time?"

A half-smile formed on the counselor's face. "It happens more often than you might think. But what makes you think you need a reason to freely exhibit emotion? Whether or not this information is accurate, you are a free individual with the right to determine how you act as you see fit. If you want to explore your emotions, then do so."

The ensign arched her eyebrow and pondered for a moment. "But, as you can understand, to express emotion would not be proper. Emotions are an exhibit of a loss of mental control. To show no emotion is the proper way to handle things."

"Mm . . . it might be helpful if we make a distinction here. Very few things are 'proper' or 'improper' outside a theological or sociological context. Your Vulcan upbringing is what gives you that perspective on emotion, but that's exactly what you've said you want to change. If you really want explore and embrace your human heritage, then you're going to have to start looking at things from the human perspective. For most species other than Vulcans, expressing emotion is quite natural and doesn't necessarily indicate any loss of control. Most of the people you know and serve with here on the Galaxy exhibit emotion as a regular part of their lives. Would you say we all lack mental control?"

"Counselor, I might not have training in psychology, however, I do believe that most people lack some degree of mental control at some point during their life. It may be a one time incident, or it might be lack of control on a daily basis. Speaking of lack of mental control, I have a prime example of that. Just the other day, I was walking through the corridor and a naked woman ran right by me! So, you tell me......do we all lack some degree of mental control?"

"Does getting distracted once in awhile mean a person is devoid of intellectual control?" Elessidil calmly returned. "I wasn't implying that no one ever lets their emotions get the best of them; that does come with the territory sometimes. But it doesn't make the total absence of emotional expression the 'proper' solution; that comes with its own set of problems."

"Sooo, how do I start acting human? All I've know that I can remember is Vulcan."

"I don't think you need to 'start acting' human at any time, but if you want to begin exploring that side of your heritage and personality, I'd recommend spending some time thinking or writing about or even doing anything you can recall from the years prior to your life on Vulcan. Why don't we start there?"

"Okay....thank you." T'Rei settled into a more comfortable position in her chair. "You've got your work cut out for you."

"No, Ensign, " Elessidil replied, "I think it's you who has the most amount of work to do, but I'll be here to help in any way I can."

T'Rei sighed. "The task appears insurmountable. At least right now it is appearing that way. You stated that I should spend time thinking or writing about my past before my time with my guardians. I've chosen to shut that time out of my memory. I'm forcing myself not to remember it. How do I break down that wall of resistance if I really don't want to and start recalling events?"

"Well, why not start by telling me about your earliest memories of them? What can you immediately recall?"

She shifted in the chair, the weight of the counseling session had taken its toll on the young woman. "Um, I don't know anything about them. They just dropped me off at the children's home….stating that I was too "unruly" for them. Why would they do that? Surely, there has to be a better reason than that….don't you think so?"

"I understand your wanting to know more about your biological parents' decisions regarding you, but at this point, anything either of us could say would just be speculation," Brian answered thoughtfully. "Learning why you were given up for adoption is not nearly as important as learning how to respond to it. By your own admission you've responded so far by shutting out your memories of the time prior to your life as a Vulcan and by conforming to the behavior that life expected of you. If you want to change that, then I think it would be a better investment of you time and effort to decide how you're going to go about doing that, instead of trying to figure out why your parents made the decisions they did."

"It would be beneficial to explore the feelings and events that I have chosen to shut out. The large challenge would be to find a method on how to recall the memories." She waited for a response.

"We can often get to long-neglected memories simply by spending time trying to reconnect with them. Many people find journaling helpful; for others, meditation is a useful tool. If nothing else, they're examples of where you could start. If over time you're still unsuccessful, there are other psychological techniques, such as hypnosis, that could be useful."

"Okay. I believe I'll give journaling a start. Did you want to meet again?" T'Rei rolled her eyes. Of course he would want to meet again. Her situation was grade A prime Terran beef for a hungry counselor.

"I don't think you'd disagree that it would be 'logical' for us to do so," he answered with a friendly grin.

"Treasures" I

1st Lt. Jebidiah Baile

Jo'rel, Matheyus, Zanna, NPCs (wrote by Trey)

If there was one place on this planet were the unbelly of uncivilized and lawless. Truth was the puff law on this planet didn't even bother patrolling the colony cause there was simply out numbered by the alien Rastafarians that seemed to have made this place home. The center of all this was a well known bar known as the center where illegal deals and black-market goods could be found, didn't matter what you were looking for, there was always someone there who could get it for you, but at what price? Everyone in the darkly lit bar tended to huddle around the central circular bar, pushing to get to a stool to sit down. The room was in a circle, with tables against the outside wall. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and alien sweat and the off scent of something they were calling food a few of the more adventurous were trying.

Jor'el was one of the few people who sat at a table with a few people around him. Dressed in a mix match of black leather and blue lenin. He wasn't here to make friends, he was here on business and growing more and more impatient as it was becoming clear he had been stood up. Which was something one did not want to do with Jor'el and his mercenaries.

The newcomer at the bar had stopped being that two days ago. At least in the eyes of the bartenders. The man downed alcohol as if there was no tomorrow. The bald human wasn't the friendliest one the bartenders had met, but then again the bar wasn't known for its... social ambience. Not in a nice way anyway. He wore a sleeveless trench-coat and a black tanktop underneath which all in all showed off a set of muscular arms and a lot of tattoos.

Baile grabbed the bottle and headed over to the same table as he had done the previous nights. He doubted they would stop him, after all they won every single game against him. It wasn't hard to lose. The hardest part was not pulling a gun and blowing their smug smiles off.

Sitting at the table, Jor'el, tall form laid back in a leisure fashion. His tanned skin was tattooed with tribal markings, though anyone couldn't know if it was from his race or something just for body adornment. Picking up his drink he took a gulp from the alien booze, as his slate blue eyes watched Baile as he moved. He could make out a few things that made him think about this individual had some form of fighting skills. However, the way he was drinking like fish, those skills probably were impaired. Leaning over he spoke to the man on his right.

The man to his right was Mathayus, his trusted second officer and friend. Mathayus said nothing as he walked toward Baile. Pulling a pouch of coins he tossed them onto the table and straddled the chair. "If your up for a game, cut the cards and deal." He said watching Baile. This wasn't about playing cards, this was gathering information for Jor'el.

Finding the credits needed for the games had been the easy part. Stealth was after all his forté. He placed another pouch on the table and sat down, taking a heavy swig as soon as everyone was seated. Baile had never been a card player. He knew the rules but it had never really interested him. It still didn't. Slightly uncoordinated due to massive amounts of alcohol he cut the cards and dealt. Same game every night.

It was far from as bad as it looked. He wasn't sure what they Hydran ...gods.. had done to him, but the only thing he got out of alcohol was the burning feeling as it made its way down. The fuckers had deprived him of being able to get roaring drunk. The demons in his head had celebrated from the moment he had discovered his new.. resistance to the effects of alcohol.

The goggles hid his eyes, protecting them from the lights on the other side of the dark lens. It made people nervous. Not to be able to see where he was looking. Funny. They would probably be happy if they saw what his eyes looked like now. "What's up, Mercs.." Baile said, but didn't bother to keep the loathing from his voice. He detested mercs. But they didn't mind the insults as long as they could keep taking his credits.

Mathayus looked up hearing Baile and only flicked his finger to indicate no one was to move. Showed just how much Jor'el crew were in control here in the bar. "You should watch what you call people around here... some of my associates might not being called a merc." Mathayus stated, even though it was what they were. "You aren't from around here... where do you come from?" Mathayus asked, picking up the cards in his humanoid hands.

They didn't like being called mercs? He had a lot of other names for them. Hopefully he'd get to use them. "Same place you picked up this raggedy-ass crew of yours.." Baile slurred and took another swig. Despite the noise his new senses had found the heartbeats of the man asking the questions, but the danger wouldn't come from there. Nope, the other guy was in charge although Baile doubted any form of physical contact would come from him. He'd most likely order the goonsquad to take Baile down.

Mathayus was using bit of his self control not to punch the guy in the face. Finally though he couldn't stop, without warning Mathayus' fist punched Baile squarely in the face before the large six half foot tall man grabbed Baile and pulled him over to table and punched him again.

The marine, or ex-marine, he wasn't sure what his status with the marines was any more, saw it coming long before his attacker even knew he wanted to attack. Baile had heard his heartbeats increase, heard the blood pumping faster and faster until he charged Baile. The punch itself wasn't too bad, it even put a grim smile on Baile's face, a smile he wasn't even aware of. The second punch hit his jaw and that's when Baile had enough. Baile was stronger than the attacker. A lot stronger. What ever the Hydrans had done to him or had planned for him it obviously involved a lot of physical exercise.

He head-butted the attacker and brought his elbow up, connecting it to the attackers jaw. Baile wasn't about speed and technique, although he possessed plenty of both. Baile was power. He hit like a truck.

When Mathayus recoiled from the blow, two others came up behind Baile. One slammed a chair into Baile's back while another pulled baton and hit Baile in the knee. By this point, Mathayus, had gotten back up and spun around, kicking Baile in the side of the head with his boot.

Baile could feel the fires of hatred burn inside of him, but if he gave in, if he let go then all of this would have been for nothing. It was a good kick and Baile had no illusions about what it would have done to him before the Hydrans buttfucked his genes from here to eternity. It would have sent him crashing down into darkness. It took a lot of effort not to just give in and kill the three people that attacked him. But pain was a sweet substitution when death was not an option. "That all you got, Bubba?" Baile asked and got back up on his feet. An elbow shot out, connecting violently with the head of the man with the baton. He went down like he had been shot. "Because if it is.." Baile slurred "you better go get moma to cry on..."

Mathayus looked at him and then punched him again, only to feel Baile hit him hard once more. Groaning from the searing pain, this man definitely knew what he was doing. Backing Baile, Mathayus then brought up an upper cut and hit Baile's chin hard enough to break bone but something told Mathayus that this barely felt it.

It was almost too easy. What ever the Hydrans had done worked. Pain refused to linger, exhaustion just wouldn't set in. He could go on like this all day. "Sunshine... I'm gonna bust you open like a Pinâta..." Baile grinned. A part of him was enjoying the fight. No rules. But another part of him, the part trained for spec-ops was furious. What would it take for the dumb bastards to take him down? He spun around and grabbed the second attacker and swept his legs from underneath him. Rolling back just in time he felt Mathayus arm miss him. Baile grabbed the arm, twisted it hard enough to break the wrist on the attacker and fired off a straight punch straight into Mathayus face.

Mathayus fell back leaving only Baile standing up, turning he looked at him wondering what in hell he was. Before he could say anything or move, twin beams of energy ripped through the open space and slammed into Bail. When the two beans didn't seem to effect him, two more beams came at Baile from other vectors. Standing there with two beams on Baile was Jor'el.

Baile went down. He had, and he wasn't even sure how, seen Jor'el go for his gun. There had even been time to pull his own and maybe kill the man. But no, that wasn't the plan. Baile staggered backwards and was just as surprised as the shooter when he didn't go down on the first hit. Then, as the additional beams struck him blissful darkness settled down around him, putting out the fires in his mind and silencing the demons.

Jor'el walked over toward the limp form, kicking him at first to make sure he wasn't pretending. "Sum'bitch has some strength." He muttered and knelt down. "Look for his identification..."

Zanna, a woman who fired on Baile as well approached. "Someone like him we could get a good price for if we sell him to Oren for his fight club." The green haired woman said as she stood there.

"Crap.. the bastard broke my arm." Mathayus complained but took care of the pain by pressing the injector to his neck for a little.. buzz. "Whoo... much better."

Zanna punched Mathayus with her nozzle of her weapon. "Easy on the stims... save some for a real fight you pansy." She said as Jor'el pulled out Baile's identification.

Looking at the ID he handed the barcode up to Mathayus. "Check on the grid who he is... Zanna and I are going to secure him incase he wakes up again." Jor'el said as he pulled some chains and cuffs from his belt.

"Fuck you.." he grinned at Zanna and ran the id through the grid. "It'll take a couple of minutes.. bast' is probably just some drunk has has-never-been."

"You wish." Zanna mouthed off and turned her face to grin. She'd never show him anything but gruff.

"Would you two bitchs stop or find a damn room.. I'm tried of you two bitching back and forth." Jor'el stated. "Search his body pull any and all weapons off... someone like this just go unarmed." Jor'el said he then paused. "Might be best to get him to the ship as soon as possible to."

"Alright, alright... calm down.." he rolled his eyes at Zanna. Despite his broken arm he helped Jor'el carry the unconscious fighter to their ship. "Heavy bastard.. didn't look that heavy before.. think he's a cyborg?"

"If he is Oren will have to cough up lot more then usual for this bastard." Jor'el stated as they walked. "Zanna, get the chips.." Jor'el stated to what was left on the card table before the fight started. Moving out of the bar they headed for the landing zones. They approached a ship that looked battered, but was very reliable. (think Serenity) "Make sure this bastard is chained using the heavy duty chains." Jor'el said.

"Jor'el!!" Zanna yelled as she came up into the ship. "Their is a bounty on him!" She said handing Mathayus the downloaded information from network check.

Mathayus checked the info. "Oh holy shit... fuck me! FUCK ME!!" he screamed as the figures on the padd sunk in. "I think I just came in my pants..This guy is worth a fucking fortune! He's got nearly two million credits on his head!!" He grabbed Zanna around the waist, the stims blocking out the pain from the broken arm. "We're rich!"

Zanna was ecstatic as Mathayus was. She shared his grin and then put her arms around his neck and held onto him. "That's right, we can finally retire and stop working!" She said.

Jor'el looked at the information. He then looked up at his crew and saw their reactions. "Oren isn't getting this one... Mathayus... secure the prisoner... Zanna, get us in the air, plot a course to these people.... engage at maximum warp. Teral, make sure that cloaking device is ready if we need it." Jor'el said then reached for a bottle of booze and sprayed it over everyone. "His loss is our fortune!!" He yelled.

"Treasures" II

1st Lt. Jebidiah Baile

Jo'rel, Matheyus, Zanna, NPCs (wrote by Trey)

The ship had indeed used the cloaking device, there were simply to many patrols that Jor'el did not want to have to deal with. It had been few days they had picked up their 'precious treasure' and the one thing on everyone's mind was the big payoff from the Hydrans. Though Jor'el hated dealing with the creatures personally. "Zanna, watch things.. I'm going to check on the prisoner and Mathayus." He said then walked out.

"I'm all over it like a cheap whore on a customer." She said.

"Careful... Mathayus might get jealous you talkin' like that." Jor'el stated as he headed out for the holding area.

"Let him.." she grinned as the boss of the gang left the bridge. What a strange couple of days. As soon as the bounty had checked up as legit they had set course for the nearest maximum security prison colony there was. Fellows with records as extensive as their passenger wasn't accepted any where else. But the private correction colonies accepted anyone. Some of them even paid bounty for them. Naturally they didn't do this out of the warm and fuzzy personalities the Wardens had. No it was a service for those not wanting to front with their names. Thus the Wardens acted as middle hands.

When Jor'el stepped into the holding area, he saw Mathayus looking at the prisoner. "Careful old friend... might think your making a pass at him, if that were the case I think Zanna would be wearing your nuts for earrings." Jor'el stated and then gestured. "He still out?" He asked moving to get something to drink.

"I don't know. The monitor says he is.. this.." he patted his stomach "says he's not." The prisoner gave Mathayus a bad vibe and he knew that Jor'el listened to his bad vibes. Yet, cyborg or not, there was no way in hell the prisoner would be able to break the chains. Still, the merc took no chances and had a very powerful phaser in his hand, ready for use in case the prisoner tried something.

"Relax, Math, soon we'll have him off the ship and we'll all be drowning in credits." Jor'el said. "We should be reaching the planet soon." He said then looked at the prisoner. "All he is to me is two million credits, since you, Zanna and I got him... we'll spilt it three ways."

"My kind of math, boss.." Mathayus grinned. "Fuck.. I need more painkillers. Here, he's all yours." he handed the phaser over to Jor'el and got up on his feet, arching his back. "Man, I can't wait.. "

"Go... tell Zanna to not stop for anything." Jor'el knew where Math was going, he was going to either pesture Zanna. Taking the weapon he settled won on the chair and looked at the prisoner once Mathayus left. Though Jor'el was wondering why in hell this man was wanted, though after seeing his fighting skills he had to guess he killed someone that he shouldn't have. Though Jor'el had rules he lived by, never get personally involved, was the top of the list.

Baile hung from the bulkhead by his arms. The chains were too strong to break but then again he had never planned to break them. He looked at the man sitting alone with him now, his open eyes invisible through the goggles. With his head still slumped down he spoke. His voice was relaxed, deep and with something... dark to it. "I've seen you before.."

"That's right sleeping beauty... I'm prince charming." Jor'el stated, then reminded himself not to say anything more and hoped that was the extent of their conversation. Cause he had two million credits coming and he was NOT going to get involved this time, cause if he did Mathayus and Zanna both would kill him.

"Awww.. ain't that cute.." Baile replied. At least the man had humor. But he really did recognize him. "I never forget a face, merc.. and I've seen yours before.."

"You know nothing." Jor'el stated. "All you know is that your are now chained in my ship, frankly, that's all you need to know." He stated as he finished off his booze.

"If you say so Sparky.." Baile replied but kept looking at the merc. It would come to him. He never forgot a face. "Mercs.. I hate mercs..."

[Jor'el, we are approaching the system] Came a voice over the intercom.

"Take us out of warp... maintain cloak I'll be up in a few seconds." Jor'el said then looked back to Baile.

"Let me guess... Vaden Penal Colony..."

"That's right.... your biotches missed you." Jor'el stated. He then took photo ID of Baile and hit the intercom. "Zanna, contact the colony, tell them to send the credits to our account... if they ask for proof, send the file I'm uploading."

[Understood.]

"Soon you'll be back in your lovers arms." Jor'el stated as he turned back to look at Baile. "Unless you have more then two million credits for me to get your ass out of here, but of course compensation will need to be made now and frankly you just don't have the time for that."

"Vaden is just what the doctor ordered.... a vacation.." Baile replied with a smug smile. "Good luck merc... you'll need it.. The Warden of Vaden is a... special person.." That was the beauty of it all. Baile actually knew the Warden of the colony. Knew wasn't perhaps the best word for it. Baile had blown up one of the Wardens installations during the Dominion Wars. He was well known for his anti-Federation views and opinions. He would never miss the chance of getting his hands on Baile. Never.

[Credits received, I've transferred them to another account.] Zanna reported.

"I'm not a bastard, when I beam you down I can't send my good chains... so you'll have a good chance of doing whatever it is you do." Jor'el stated. "I don't much Vedan either, but that's my own fight." He said then stepped back. "Anything else you want to say before I transport you down to your old 'friend'?"

"Yeah... they got better room-service.." "May your humor give you freedom from the prison I'm sending you to." Jor'el stated and then tapped in some commands into the transporter. He saw the coordinates had been received. He then looked up. "I remember you two Baile..." he said then smiled and energized the transporter sending baile down to Vaden without the chains. ~Sorry friend, two million credits is two million credits...~ He thought looking at the chains now handing there alone where Baile once was. "Consider us even though...." He said then looked up. "Zanna, get us out of here... break orbit and maximum warp."

"The 'Date'"

Commander Kol
Lt. (JG) 8-ball Hunter

For the first time in possibly her entire life, 8-ball did not want the work day to be over. She wanted to continue working, possibly slaving away, in fact, all so that she didn't have to meet her "date" in ten-forward. Sadly, however, time continued to rotate in its normal fashion, and eventually 8-ball's shift ended. It was time to go and face her destiny. Or date. Or doom. Whatever.

8-ball popped by her quarters very quickly to check on her hair (this was very important) and then walked over to Ten-Forward. She paused outside the doors briefly and considered running far, far away. Bravery wasn't really her thing. This couldn't make her very compatible with a Klingon.

Eventually, though, she decided against it and walked into Ten-Forward. She looked around for Kol and spotted him in about .025656565 seconds. He wasn't exactly easy to miss. Taking a breath, 8-ball walked over to him.

Here was to hoping that the night didn't end with her bloody demise.

"T'Pol." he acknowledged, motioning for her to take the seat across from him. "Or is the name '8-Ball' your preference?"

"8-ball," 8-ball said automatically. "Nobody calls me T'Pol. Ever."

"You may call me Kol." he said, giving the distinct impression he was giving permission. "'Commander' is very cumbersome to shout, I'm told."

8-ball was caught between wanting to grit her teeth at this I'm-talking-down-at-you tone and wanting to laugh at Kol's joke, as she didn't know that the Klingon possessed a sense of humor and the existence of such a thing gave her hope. Then she instantly worried that Kol wasn't joking. ~Fuck. He probably wasn't.~

8-ball decided to assume that he was out of a desperate sense of optimism and smiled at him. "Kol it is, then," she said, and wondered what the hell she was supposed to add. "That is a little easier than Commander. Less syllables and all that." There, she said something. Now it was his turn.

"Indeed." he replied, as the waiter - slowly - approached with a plate of live gagh.I have already ordered." he stated. "You may share my meal, if you wish. The gagh is quite excellent - it puts up a true battle on it's way down, railing against it's fate to until the last. Much better than the gagh on my last posting. Limp, inactive little things. Hardly gave any indigestion at all."

8-ball stared for a minute at the. . .meal. . .that Kol was served. It did more than merely wriggle. It writhed and convulsed, like epileptic worms. 8-ball could see herself choking on the creatures, attempting to get them down her throat as they climbed back up for air. Then once they were safely in her stomach, 8-ball would relax, thinking the worst was over, and that later she could vomit in peace. . .but no.

Before she could purge herself of the terrifying little atrocities, they would form a rebellion in her stomach and eat her from the inside out, gnashing her skin apart with their little worm teeth. They would arise from the huge, gaping hole in her stomach and slither down her body to freedom, dragging along bits of her intestines with them to wherever their happy Gagh Land was. And then, as 8-ball lay dying on the floor from mass exsanguination, she would curse the day she had ever listened to Ella Grey, and hope that the psychotic little worms crawled in her bed and ate her flesh while laughing, "This is what you get for telling 8-ball to go on this date!"

8-ball stared at the gagh for a beat longer, swallowed, and shook her head, determinedly looking away from the evil things. "I never particularly enjoyed battling my food," 8-ball said. "I like an easy fight, or often no fight at all, just mass carnage with no factors going against my favor. Besides, I had my heart set on chicken teriyaki anyway." She looked at the waiter. "And something very strong to drink with that too. Please."

"I will have a prune juice." Kol informed the waiter. "It is a pity," he remarked, scooping up a handful of the wriggling, squirming gag, "That you prefer your food dead. It makes eating too little a challenge. Still, at least you are not a... vegitarian" - the word came out as a curse " like most of your people."

8-ball laughed. "Yeah, I've never been much of a leaf-cruncher. When I was young, I thought about being a vegetarian---it was very chic, at the time, to eat all these healthy things and spout about your body being a temple until you went to go do some happy drugs that pretty much destroyed the insides of your body---but I never could get into it. One look at a cheeseburger and I was just, like, 'Yeah, sorry, Mr. Cow, but you taste so good with a bit of ketchup and some cheese'. It probably didn't provide the cow much consolation, but it's not like I was that worried anyway."

The waiter arrived with her drink and her chicken. "Hey, that was like the fastest service in the world. Neato, thanks." She looked down at her food and was relieved that it wasn't wiggling. "You want a bite?" 8-ball asked Kol. "You're right; it's not much of a challenge, but it still damn tasty."

The big Klingon barely managed to hide his look of disgust. "No. I have tried chicken before. I find it.. tasteless."

"What? How can you not like chicken? Everyone likes chicken. Everything tastes like chicken. Chicken is supreme."

"I believe it is because it is such a passive animal. Now targ meat - that has flavor."

8-ball tried to keep herself from shuddering and failed. Targ. . .Jesus. "I don't think we're going to find a lot in common when it comes to food," she said, and immediately wondered what they did have in common other than the fact that they both served on this ship. She couldn't for the life of her imagine anything.

"Let's change the subject," 8-ball said. "I don't actually know to what, but maybe we'll grope around aimlessly for conversation and find something to talk about. What do you like to do for fun?"

~Here's to hoping he isn't going to say sharpening his bat'leths or something~ 8-ball thought to herself dryly.

Kol's only reply was a suggestive smile.

"While I'm Still in a Good Mood"

By Commander James Lionel Corgan
Ensigns Artim and T'rei And Lieutenant T'lan

Location: Holodeck 3

Alright... who do we have today?"

James Corgan paced impatiently as he waited for the next batch of new recruits to make their way across the holographic training field. It was a sunny day in boot camp simulation number 3541 (originally based on the training camp at one of the Moon's Starfleet Academy facilities), and without a cloud in the sky it had a deceptive cast, as if nothing could go wrong with this day.

Two things could go wrong. One could be Corgan's cross mood, which wasn't improving as he watched his security officers go through their daily routine. For a detatchment that was in the middle of what was once enemy territory, they seemed pretty lethargic. He was hoping he wouldn't have to resort to more drastic measures of motivation.

He kept that opinion to himself. But to his ever present duputy Lieutenant T'lan, newly minted and a model of Vulcan control, his emotions were as plain as the holographic sunshine beating down on his men and women.

T'lan looked down on her PADD. She was thankful that her exercise shift was at another time. "Ensigns T'Rei and Artim, sir." She looked down again to double check the information. One was a human, but her name was Vulcan. T'lan checked the information again, then cross referenced it with an uplink to the ship's computer. "Facinating, sir."

"Oh?" James said, "What is so facinating today, T'lan?"

"Ensign T'Rei, sir." She answered, "She is human."

James shrugged his shoulders, genuinely caring little, "Wannabe Vulcan, perhaps? Raised by Vulcans? Who knows, who cares. Lets see what she can do first before I make up my mind. T'Rei! Artim! Front and centre!"

Artim wasn't used to this shift yet, nor was he used to this yellow shirt. No matter. It looked like it was "pick on the new guy" day. In medical, he'd help break in two CMOs. This time, it would be him that would be broken in. Swell.

"I'm here sir.", Artim said half-yawning

Her was uniform starched and pressed, however, something within T'Rei told her it wouldn't be important after this session. She stood as straight as she could, staring straight ahead. "Present, Sir."

T'lan gave Artim an appraising look, but not one that was too hopeful. "He appears to be fatigued, Sir."

James scoffed, "Well I would too if I had to get in shape to qualify for Hazard Team training. Holy sh*t..." He paced back and forth around Artim, constantly glowering down at the youthful looking former doctor, "...this is perhaps one of the saddest, most pathetic scenes I have ever seen from any one of my Hazards. When you say sir, don't yawn in my presence... and even though you may not have experienced it yet I want you to talk like you've dropped a pair. Now say it like you mean it!"

"SIR PRESENT SIR", he replied in the way Corgan seem to want. Artim hated this human martial bullcrap, but you had to put up with your boss

"Better! You may hit puberty yet Doctor Hauser!" James bawled out like a drill sergeant. "T'Rei! Are you afraid to get that crisp... clean... immaculately pressed uniform dirty for today's exercises? Perhaps you were not aware that we were in training this morning. But don't worry, because one shouldn't be afraid to get dirty... even if its a dress uniform and you have to see the President in fifteen minutes. You won't have to worry about mud in a holodeck. It's just photons and forcefields. But you will have to worry about sweat, and you'll sweat alot here. Do you both understand this?"

"Sir, I do, sir." Artim wasn't exactly screaming this time as this was really getting on his nevers. When would Corgan learn this wasn't the 20th century anymore? They weren't cadets anymore, they didn't need this sort of crap

"Yes Sir!" T'Rei shouted. The uniform was not her worry, acceptance by the "boss" was at the present moment.

"Do you?" James glanced at T'lan with wry amusement, whom only shook her head with doubt, "Are you sure? We have one of the tougher training regiments in Starfleet. The reason is that we are a rare example. This is not only a Galaxy refit ship which asks for a standard above Starfleet norm, but it is also a warship. We have to be damn good and ready, and that means training hard. But if you want to find out the true source of this madness..." James panned his hand all across the field, "First ask the marines! We had from time to time marines aboard, and i'll be damned if they will beat us in anything. Our pride is on the line. Remember that as you train. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir!" She stated again with force. Glancing over, she couldn't help but inwardly smirk at T'Lan. Typical....she had viewed that expression time and time again from "real" Vulcan's at it was enough to make her blood boil. No one truly appreciated the time she had spent studying the culture and methods until it because second nature only to raw, basic, Terran instinct. She was proud of who she was, and she wasn't afraid to let anyone know it....especially another Vulcan. However, to do so would be illogical....so she kept her gaze stoic and forward.

"Good!" Corgan boomed to his two new recruits. "Ensign T'rei, can't wait to see what you're capable of. Artim, good work out there. Keep busting your pre-pubesent ass out there, and you'll make a decent corpman. But that's neither here nor there. If you two neophlytes have any questions you better tell me about them while i'm still in a good mood."

"I have no questions at this time, Sir." T'Rei responded crisply.

"Alright. I heard enough. Dismissed, both of you. Hit the showers Artim. You've worked enough today." James gave them both a casual salute (Yet another throwback of the past; why did it give Artim such a fiery glint in his eyes?), and let the two ensigns disperse.

"T'lan, you're a better judge of character than I am. What do you think?" He innocently asked, adding with a comical harshness, "Christ, barking like a Sepak Bellow Beast is hard on the throat..."

His Vulcan assistant, patient as always, waited until James stopped muttering. She spoke, the life of her voice wasn't overpowering like a human, but subtle and understated. Nonetheless it was those tiny inflections that echoed a thousandfold when coming from a Vulcan. "Artim may be rebellious if you push him too hard. He is still very civilian in his thinking."

"Figures." James said mostly to himself, disdainful of the trials of having to raise civilians up to the role of soldiers. He had to damn himself for his lack of patience, or perhaps see from a non veteran's perspective, "He's still a pre-teen. No matter how old you are biology will get in the way. God... puberty for centuries. I couldn't even stand it for a few months..."

"He is, however, a bright young man with potential." T'lan added.

"A bright young man that's older than you." James stated.

T'lan's reposte came clearly. "One I look forward to exchanging thoughts and ideas."

"Good." James nodded his head, "He seems like an ok person. You should meet him... talk to different people other than O'Rourke or myself. Get out more. Take IDIC a step further. Speaking of which... what do you think of T'Rei?"

T'lan held back a lengthy pause, then said, "My opinion is that she emulates Vulcan mannerisms well. Emulates, but does not master them. She showed a flash of indignance when I doubted a claim to her readiness. As diciplined as she is, she is still human."

James shrugged his shoulders. "That she is, T'lan. Just go easy on her. It's no secret that Vulcans can seem extra chilly towards other species. She'll know it even more than usual."

"I shall be cautious, sir. I did mean no offense to her. On the contrary..." T'lan looked for T'Rei, long gone to her duties, and upon not finding her brought her attentions back to her security chief, "...I find her facinating. She emulates better mannerisms than most Vulcans that claim to master logic and emotion themselves."

"Heh..." James had to laugh. From T'lan, that was an endorsement of the highest regard. From a Vulcan, it was like calling T'Rei the embodiment of Sarek himself. His amusement perplexed the Vulcan deputy rather than offended her, and to that he had to enjoy it even more. "The newcomers will do just fine. Make them feel welcome."

"The Transfer"

Ens. Lela Beral

-- Lela's quarters, USS Bellerophon --

Lela was sitting in her quarters and reading a novel. Suddenly computer on her table generated the typical sound, annoucing incoming message. Lela came to the computer and read the message. She was transferred to another ship. At first she thought, that she'll go to her husband on USS Lexington, but it was USS Galaxy. She didn't understand why, her relationships with all of the command section and all her superiors were good, there weren't any complaints about her... That is, as far as she knows... And when she's read, that her new post on USS Galaxy won't be engineering, but OPS, she was truly stunned. Why? Yes, she's studied OPS at the Academy, but only as her minor field. She was quite satisfied on Bellerophon, and she had no reasons to think, that her superiors aren't satisfied with her either. 'But those are the orders. It's not my business to question them.' Thought Lela.

Bellerophon will leave her on DS5, where she was heading right now, and Galaxy will take her there. She'll wait for several days there. Good, she can spend some time with her parents, who are there in service.

Her first steps after her arrival on DS5 lead to her parents' quarters. She ringed the bell, but nobody answered.

"Computer, where are LtCmdr. Jarn Narebi and Lt. Lela Narebi?" =LtCmdr. Jarn Narebi is at the OPS. Lt. Lela Narebi is on the promenade.=

'Well, I'll go to see mum first.' Told Lela to herself and several minutes later she was on the promenade. Few moments later she's spotted mother in the bar. She was there with some of her firends. She raised her eyes, and their looks met. Mother smiled and ran out of the bar. They hugged and kissed themselves, and mother began asking questions.

"How are you, girlie? It's been such a long time..." "Mum..." smiled Lela over the title. "All rigt, all right, you are big girl, I know." "It's not so long I was here mother. Only several months. I was transferred to USS Galaxy. I don't understand why..." "That's your father's initiative. He thought, that on bigger ship you will have better opportunity to improve your career, so he asked his friend, admiral Robert Saddler, to arrange your transfer." "So that's it... So, at least I'll meet new people there." Smiled Lela. "But why OPS? I'm better enineer, than OPS officer, that's for sure." "There were many engineers on USS Galaxy and few OPS Officers. And Galaxy was in need of promising young officers." Smiled mother. She was proud of her daughter, such as every mother is. "Well, OK. I have to 'thank' father later, as soon as his shift is over." "So, we can go to our quarters now, right?" Asked mother. "Let's go." Answered Lela and before long they were sitting in Narebi's quarters.

Father joined them several hours later. The 'welcome ceremony' was the same as with mother. Father knew, that Lela's on the station, he knew exactly, when Bellerophon arrived. They chatted long to the night.

The vacation was over too soon, at least for Lela. She'd like to spend with her parents more time, but USS Galaxy just docked, and she had to report for duty there. She packed her stuff and left her quarters, heading for USS Galaxy. She showed her boarding documents to a chief on duty at the airlock and entered her new home. As soon as she had her things unpacked, she left for the bridge to report herself to her superior. She's read all profiles of her crewmates during her vacation, especialy those of OPS and Command section, so now she knew exactly, whom she should report to. She found lieutenant Iniara at her post, she came to her and said:

"Ensign Lela Beral reports for duty, sir." "Good ensign, go for your work."

"Bad Boys Too!!!!"

The "Boy you know it's dead when Joe posts" post.

Starring Lt. Raven Darkstar, the USS GALAXY's resident meat truck turned Tactical guru and Ambassador Leo Streely, who started out as a journalist many, many moons ago but somehow ended up as Starfleet's officially appointed ambassador.

Location: One of the Cargo Bays in the bowels of the USS Galaxy.

Time: Shortly between "Nothing" and "Scratching Our Asses" posted by nobody since the sim has ground down to a halt plotwise.

Previously: After the USS GALAXY took several hundred Jem Hedar aboard, several members of the crew have begun to voice ill will towards their once hated enemies. Several Jem Hadar have remained loyal to the old ways, increasing the tension aboard the unusually quiet ship. While orally pleasuring a redhead in the cargo bay, Ambassador Streely found himself suddenly stuck in the middle of a meeting of one of the ships anti-progressive Jem Hadar sects. He called Darkstar for help and the duo now stands undercover....quite literally!

Rippling with muscles, his facial spikes a deep red, the largest of the Jem Hadar - known as R'rusluk - raised his blaster over his head and roared. The remaining dozen other Jem Hadar who had gathered in the USS GALAXY's cargo bay also hoisted their blasters and joined in the primal cheering.

"Brothers! Gather round! There are those among us who have turned their backs upon our ways. They have no honor! " R'ruslik thundered, his gray scales darkening. "We will now go and purge the genetic defects from this ship. The toothless curs will learn what it that they have forgotten! They will learn what it is to be Jem Hadar!" he bellowed to the crowds raucous delight.

"For the founders!!!" R'ruslik cried.

The angry crowd began to chant the very same thing until Leo Streely and Raven Darkstar crashed through a stack of empty supply crates, back to back with phasers up and at the ready.

"FLEET POWER, MOTHA FUCKAS!!" Leo yelled waving his phaser at the nearest group of Jem Hadar rogues. Darkstar growled, a deep frown set upon his weathered face and leveled his phaser at the R'ruslik's head.

"OH, SHIT!" Leo taunted with a giggle. "IT'S THE MEAT TRUCKS!!!"

"I am Tactical. You are an Ambassador. How I do not know. Technically we are not Security. And how do you have a phaser?" Darkstar grumbled, eyeing the assembled mob.

Leo paid him no mind. He was too busy singing a catchy tune about bad boys and asking them what they are going to do.

"Tell Alpha Team to bring 'em home!" Leo said.

The indian stared at him.

'What are you talking about?" Darkstar asked. The Jem Hadar simply folded their arms and began studying the spectacle before them. Leo's phaser dipped slightly as he looked back over his shoulder.

"Im talking about Corgan! Ya know. Broken Head?!? Mr. I can't sustain a serious mature adult relationship? Mr. I lost my creepy edge when Krieghoff came aboard and I mellowed out? The Head of Security? The position that was once held by my boy Jii? Hey did you hear what happened to his wife? Now that's some awful shit right there..."

"LEO!" the indian rumbled. "There is no security team coming. You called me down and then stumbled, literally into the middle of this. And Yes, I am fully aware of the tragedy of Captain Elithian's wife."

The Jem Hadar began to chuckle.

Raven turned his attention to the laugh and R'ruslik, moving with a speed that was contrary to his size grabbed Leo, pulling him as a shield and brought his blaster up to Leo's head.

"Put your weapon down." he said. "Or the irritant is no more."

Darkstar aimed his own phaser at the man, his flint like eyes narrowing dangerously.

" If you think that threatening to incinerate him will make me lay down my phaser, you are mistaken. Leo is always prepared to die. It is his honor, is not that correct Leo?"

"HEL..HELL NO!?!?!" Leo said.

R'ruslik hissed and pressed the tip of the blaster painfully into Leo's temple.

"Prepare to join your Link little man."

"WHAT THE FUCK DO I WANNA DO THAT FOR??!?!?! AND DID YOU JUST CALL ME A SAUSAGE LINK???"

The Jem Hadar tightened his finger on the trigger and looked once more at the massive Indian Tactical officer.

"Put your weapon down."

"You will submit to my custody or I will fire. A phaser blast set to heavy stun from this distance will likely remove your head from your shoulders. A or B. Pick one." Darkstar said, drawing a line in the sand.

" HOW BOUT C: TAKE TIME TO TALK A LITTLE BIT, OK? YOU KNOW? DE-ESCALATE THE SITUATION!!!! RAVEN, THE MAN...YOU ARE A MAN RIGHT..THE MAN HAS A GUN TO MY HEAD!!!!"

"I believe he would put it down if I shoot him in his head." Raven said matter of factly, the influence of spending months as Brhode's Chief of Security on the Olympus Fleet clearly showing.

"Your partner is a dishonorable pinkskin." R'ruslik said then spit on the cargo bay floor in a clear challenge to Darkstar.

"Oh was that nessicary?" Leo said, shaking his head. "Why does he gotta be an honorless pinkskin?"

"I am done." Darkstar announced using his thumb to crank the phaser to the highest stun setting.

"RAVEN!! RAVEN YOU DON'T EVEN USE A PHASER!!!! I AINT SEEN YOU USE ONE SINCE THE ORIGINAL GALAXY SIM!!! MARK WILLIAMS HELP!!!!!"

The crowd of warriors began to stir and Raven spun around pointing at all of them. "Nobody move or I will shoot you all."

"We can't let ya'll go but look OK, this shit will get worked out in court OK?!?!" Leo pleaded.

One of the Hadar pointed their phaser at Raven. Darkstar reciprocated as the situation grew more unstable. Leo began flapping his hands wildly.

"OKOKOKOK! I can let you guys off with a warning! That's the best I can fuckin do, ok?"

"You have three seconds..." Darkstar announced.

"He's crazy! He has issue problems. He goes to bed early just so he can get up and shoot a mother fucker!"

"Two..."

"Raven don't!" Leo yelled as R'ruslik tensed and grinned.

The cargo bay doors opened up and a security detail leaned in with phaser rifles. Seeing this the Hadar began to fire wildly. They fell back looking for cover.

The large red horned Jem Hadar leveled his phaser at Leo. Darkstar threw himself on his side and squeezed off 3 blasts towards R'ruslik. One went astray hitting a bulkhead harmlessly, one clipped Leo in the behind, while the third hit the Jem Hadar in his shoulder, dropping him to his knees in submission.

Within moments the scene was under control of GALAXY Security.

Raven walked over to Leo, who was squatting over screaming.

"Leo you are OK. You may stop screaming." the indian said matter of factly.

"YOU SHOT ME IN THE ASS!!!!" Leo yelled, afraid to move from his stance.

"Who shot you in the ass?" Darkstar asked awkwardly in what could have been his first experience in circumventing the truth.

"That would be you OK? You shot me in the ass! A couple inches lower and you would have clipped my boys!"

"ME?" Raven said with mock incredulity, "I did a lot of shooting, but I do not remember shooting you in the ass."

"I can't feel my ass, OK? I can smell it burning though." Leo cried.

Raven squatted down.

"I think it is OK. It hit the meat and missed the hole." Darkstar said reaching in the pouch at his side.

"Don't rub your root on my ass! I'll be fine. I think you need to stick to whipping ass rather then shooting phasers. You know you don't like those things. I thought said Security wasn't coming?"

"I hit my combadge when you fell out of your hiding spot."

"I didn't fall, OK. Lets get that shit strait. I leapt out of hiding in an unconventional style, OK?!?! What about them?" he said nodding over to the Jem Hadar.

"They are being let go. They are claiming that they were only holding a meeting and reacting in self defense. Security has confiscated their weapons and confined them to their temporary quarters." Raven said as the large red horned Hadar was escorted past.

His mouth curled into a sneer, baring his fangs. Then he was gone.

Darkstar looked at Leo.

"You better watch your ass. Hey, what about my ass? Can I get a medic over here?" Leo said as a cute redhead came running out of the shadows clutching her uniform to her chest.

She leaned down and kissed Leo on the cheek.

"That was fun! Call me!" she said sweetly, then dashed away, her bare feet padding against the plush carpet and her nude ass wiggling as she ran to the turbo lift.

Leo looked up and saw Raven staring at him incredulously.

"What?!?! I'm still the Big Hoss, OK? Now stop looking at her ass and get someone over here to look at mine!"

3421