"Survival Instinct"

Ensign Keldan, Operations Officer

Kor’A’Thus – Jem’Hadar Security Officer

Deck 12
Holodeck 2

A steady stream of sweat dripped into Keldan’s eyes. He squinted hard to stave off the salty, burning sensation and refocused his attention at the task at hand. Lying flat against the incline board, he pulled down slowly on the bar, clenching his teeth in satisfaction as the strain passed from his biceps to his triceps and back again.

He let the bar retract so slowly an observer would have thought it a scene being played in slow-motion. But the pace was forcing every muscle to work its full range and potential. Five more repetitions and he would move to his next exercise.

He’d set the weights perfectly for a maintenance routine. The last thing he needed was to bulk up. They’d transfer him to security and he was enjoying the challenges of his new role at ops. He also liked actually fitting in his uniform. The only drawback to his stint as an operations office thusfar had been its sedentary nature. His physique would suffer if he didn’t maintain his regular schedule of exercise.

He wiped the sweat from his face with his forearm. He stepped to the side and lowered the board to a horizontal position for a bench press routine. If his timing was on, and it usually was, he had another 20 minutes reserved in the holodeck. He’d head to 10-Forward to grab some dinner and relax for a bit before heading back to his quarters to grab what sleep he could. He’d become so accustomed to eating dinner at five in the morning he didn’t even think about it. But that was gamma shift for you.

The night had been uneventful, as it usually was. The Galaxy would be arriving at ch’Rihan during today's alpha shift and he would have to be ready to go on duty at a moment’s notice if called.

He loaded a 50-kg weight on each end of a barbell and secured it. He could certainly go higher if he’d wanted, and he was certainly in no danger with the holodeck safety protocols in place. But trying to lift more weight than you could *easily* handle without a spotter was simply stupid.

He grabbed the barbell and began the exercise, one set with arms spread, the next close together. He closed his eyes and imagined the muscles of his arms and chest, machine-like, moving with precision and purpose.

After ten repetitions, he opened his eyes. He was more than a little startled to look up and see someone staring down at him. Especially since the person staring down at him wasn’t one of the characters in the holodeck simulation.

“Am I disturbing you, Ensign?”

Keldan stared for a moment into the eyes of Kor’A’Thus, the Jem’Hadar security officer he had met on Tru’Haran during his visit there. No, the warrior’s presence wasn’t disturbing him, though he was a bit disturbed that he hadn’t heard him approach. Then again, the room was filled with holo-characters moving about various exercise equipment, and there was the constant din of spectators and passersby along the nearby boardwalk. He also didn’t expect anyone to be just strolling in at a quarter to five in the morning.

“Not at all, Kor’A’Thus.” Keldan continued with his next set. “I just didn’t expect anyone at this hour would want to use the holodeck if it wasn’t an emergency.”

“The door was not locked. I was told if such was the case anyone may enter freely.”

Keldan half-smiled. “True enough.”

“What is this place,” he inquired, gesturing to the holographic simulation.

“It is a re-creation of an open-air gymnasium I once visited. On Earth. Usually I do my lifting in one of the gymnasium facilities…but it is late,” or rather early, he corrected himself, “and they are usually empty at this hour. Sometimes it’s just better to be around a lot of people, even if they are just holographic projections.”

The security officer was busy looking at the various elements in the simulation. Touching a wall or post to verify the realness of it all. “Your vision has improved, I take it. Have you have had problems since your injury on the planet?”

“I was on restricted duty for several weeks. My eyesight took its time returning to normal, much to my annoyance and Dr. Burton’s dismay. It is fortunate that none of the damage was permanent.” When Kor’A’Thus didn’t respond immediately, Keldan added, “Did you want to see me for something, or were you just interested in the holodeck?”

“A little of both, actually. Your counsel would be…appreciated.”

Keldan indicated for him to continue.

“The survivors of the colony are having great difficulties adjusting to this new situation, although it is not as problematic for those of us who are accustomed to space travel. But for many, especially our young and those born at the colony, things are… complicated. We are especially grateful to Captain Henderson and the Federation for their assistance thusfar, but right now our futures are very uncertain. Now we are deep in Rihannsu territory.” There was a long pause. “I thought that perhaps *you* might have some insight into how we might allay some of our fears.”

Well, Keldan thought to himself. Someone’s been doing his research. Finishing his set, he pushed the barbell onto the stand, his exercise complete, albeit a little prematurely. He sat up on the bench, unfastening his gloves. He wasn’t sure exactly where to start.

“Well, I cannot tell you that the path you and your people are on is going to be an easy one, Kor’A’Thus. The Federation will make a good show of putting on a friendly face to you and your people. But you can’t forget that they are just people, like everyone else. Everyone has their own agenda, even if they don't realize it. Some of them do genuinely want to help you. But some of them will only do so because they’ve been ordered to. Being able to ‘forgive and forget’ as the humans say, is not quite as easy as it sounds, even for them.”

The big Jem’Hadar stood, unblinking, so Keldan continued. “Unfortunately, there is no good way to tell them apart. Of course these two examples are just the black and white on a scale of many, many shades of grey.”

“So you think asking the Federation for assistance would be a waste of time.”

Keldan stood, leaning against a nearby concrete pillar. “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all.” Keldan wasn’t sure if he was making much sense, or if what he was saying was being of much use. Perhaps he should try a different angle.

“Tell me, Kor’A’Thus. What do you want?”

The Jem’Hadar snapped himself out of some internal discussion he was having. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I know what you want, personally. You want to ensure the safety and survival of your group. So what is it, exactly that ‘the group’ wants? What’s the most important thing? I’m assuming that you would like an opportunity to start a new colony.”

“The desires of my people are many, but I would agree that that, above all else, is what my people want. To find a new home where we can focus on a peaceful existence. Far away from the interference of others.”

Keldan smiled. “Ah, but you see, that’s not *one* thing. That’s *three* things. Finding a new home. Having a peaceful existence. And being far away from everyone.”

Keldan continued, “Our two races are not so unalike, you know. We both come from races that have been at war with the Federation; we share a common interest in wanting other races to just leave us alone to our own internal affairs.”

“When I first served on board a Federation starship, it was during the Dominion War. I realized for the first time that I had a unique opportunity to make a name for myself in a way no other member of my species ever had.” He laughed at himself. “I suppose you could say that ambition runs like a rampant disease through my species. Customs and codes of honor and conduct that constantly keep everyone striving in an eternal game of one-upsmanship.”

“I guess what I am trying to say is that if you want to make your own way in the universe, you have to figure out what you want most and then situate yourself so you can get it. I’ve never put much stock in others’ help, because no one has ever had as much a vested interest in what was best for me except for me. Having an association with Starfleet has worked for me…but only because I have made it work. They offer me opportunities I never would have had on my own. But I would be lying if I said there wasn’t a cost attached.”

Kor’A’Thus looked a bit perplexed, if Keldan was reading his expression correctly. “So you think we may have to sacrifice some of the things we want in order to get what we think is most important.”

Keldan smiled. “I honestly don’t know. I’m sure the Federation would be more than willing to aid you in resettlement. I don’t know what all that would entail, though. The only way you are going to find out is if you ask them.”

Kor’A’Thus stood silently. Keldan allowed his attention to be drawn away from the Jem’Hadar as a holographic Trill and human female, both scantily clad in their beach-going attire, waltzed through his line of vision. They looked briefly in his direction, but he didn’t have time for a swim right now.

The Jem’Hadar’s deep voice resonated. “I will make my recommendations to Goran’Agar. Thank you, Ensign. You have been quite helpful. Might I offer a suggestion of my own?”

Well that was unexpected, Keldan though. Quid-pro-quo was the last thing he’d expected. Maybe the Jem’Hadar and the Federation *could* come to terms on something that would be beneficial for both. “Of course.”

“I was told that you used to be an instructor.”

“That’s right. Survival training. Before I was first assigned to a starship.”

“Several of my people have expressed an interest in attaining such training. Have you considered resuming your instruction here aboard the Galaxy?”

Keldan stood stunned for a moment. That was not something that he had ever really given much thought. He could surely program the holodeck for survival exercises the Galaxy crew would find…challenging. And with the Jem’Hadar involved, it might serve to bring them and the Starfleet personnel onboard closer and foster some genuine amity between them. And best of all, it would give him the chance to do something genuinely and uniquely useful.

“I think that is a superb idea. I’ll talk to my superiors about setting it up. I’m heading to 10-Forward for a meal, Kor’A’Thus. Would you care to join me to continue our discussion?”

“A superb idea.”

off: takes place two days before Galaxy arrives

"Late in the Evening"

J. Andrus Suder (apc)

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

Capitol City, Romulus

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

When Lelok brought him dinner that evening, Andrus couldn't help commenting that it was never a good idea to stick your Uhlan where it didn't belong, especially if it was in a sub-commander's wife.

Sure it was a bad joke, Andy thought to himself as the Romulan officer practically slammed the plate of food down upon the table and stormed out of the room, but did he really deserve Lelok's glare of death?

Andy smirked as he set aside his work for his food. All of his defectors, save the ambassador's added guest, were taken care of so supposed that he could take a moment to refuel. The member of the Tal Shiar and the sub-commander had their exits confirmed on their separate freighters, that asshole t'Noir had re-committed himself to helping the minister, and the fourth and most important cargo, the lowly centurion Maec, was leaving via another ambassador's ship.

He supposed that arranging all of this just so Maec could leave Romulus and be with his girlfriend was a long way to go about apologizing to Tekkie but Andrus had always found greeting cards so obnoxiously sentimental.

Andrus returned to his informant's latest intel, eating the Romulan food mechanically and deleting rejected candidates as he read. He was back to the beginning again, trying to secure passage for both the fifth defector and himself onboard the Galaxy, and once again the ship wasn't giving him anything to work with. And it was due to arrive in two days.

Oh, there was the general conduct unbecoming a Starfleet officer intel- which officers like this Lt. Hunter seemed to excel at- and they even had their own walking, talking version of the devil, but things like bad conduct (unless it was in the form of "really bad conduct") or needing an excorcism were not solid enough to use as blackmail.

That was the thing about secrets, he reminded himself again, they liked to stay hidden.

The closest thing he had was some info that linked a Lt. Grey to one Daro Cole, a known alias of the Betazoid assassin Fana. Or at least that was how Andy had heard of him; the man probably had a dozen aliases. The problem again arose that the lieutenant just didn't rank high enough to be able to put the information to good use, not to mention that Fana (and Andy was both amused and a bit disgusted at the assassin taking the name of the Betazoid deity of Faith as his alias) probably didn't take to kindly to being ratted on. Andy had enough trouble sleeping at night without having to worry about a vengeful assassin.

Andy sighed, wondering if he was going to have to scrap the whole Galaxy thing and mail himself home, when Ambassador Grax entered surrounded by a halo of busy emotions, chiefly smugness. Andy looked up sharply.

"What is it?" Andrus asked quickly, forgetting in that moment to communicate telepathically.

:: You must be favored by the Gods :: the Ambassador though at him.

:: It's my rugged good looks and boyish charm :: Andy thought back with irritation. :: What is it? ::

:: I think I have the solution to your problem, Andrus my boy. :: Grax replied with a large grin. :: My informant- yes, I have connections too, Andrus, just related this to me... ::

The ambassador related the intel in under a minute.

"Oh, that will work." Andy breathed, almost overcome by a feeling of giddiness and relief. That would most certainly work. He would have to make sure that it seemed as if he knew more than he really did but it was enough to get him onboard the Galaxy and out of Romulan space.

He had to fight the sudden urge to jump upon the desk and start doing a victory dance. That was unprofessional for both a junior aide and a smuggler.

:: There's a catch though, Andrus. :: The ambassador warned suddenly.

The moment of happiness was abruptly forgotten.

"There always is." Andy growled. :: What?::

:: He's not onboard the Galaxy right now and he might not be re-instated as Captain if some people in the Federation get their way ::

"Trials of the Soul"

aka a look into what's happening to Marcus..
by Ensign Marcus A. Slayton Engineering Officer, USS Galaxy

with a special appearence by
Morgana Slayton Civilian Painter
and Marc's mother.

Location: Slayton's quarters, USS Galaxy

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

Marcus sat in his quarters and reflected on everything that had happened over the course of the last few months to quarter of a year that he had served on the Galaxy, the constant problems ranging from the murder of the romulan ambassador that had lead to Anna suddenly turning out to be a traitor to the federation to the numerous injuries that he had been dealt while doing his duty as an engineer.

But these were not the main things that was on his mind, but the simple fact that "honor" as it was went to his choices in his life, sure he was a good officer and a good engineer but after what had happened in the last several months, he really needed a change among other things, while sure the Officer Exchange Program that had been offered to him was an incrediblly good thing but it wasn't his cup of tea at the moment because he could not in any form of good nature accept it because of his connection to Anna..or the connection that he HAD with Anna...

Marcus looked over at the hologram of the two at the academy's senior prom and he glared at it for several moments before he finally picked up a PADD and tossed it as hard as he could at it which then made it suddenly fall over and slam to the floor as he finally started to let his emotions break down as he realized for the first time in his life, he realized just how fucked up he was at that time and point, but it was time that he finally put things up and changed his life.

"Ensign Slayton, this is Dionne Lannow in communications. You have a message from Rhodes Colony." a voice said through the ship's communications system which caused Slayton to jump just a little bit then he reached over an activated the ship's comm-system. "This is Slayton, patch it through to my quarters."

A few moments later, the view screen built into the terminal on his desk had a "Please Wait" message followed by the appearence of his mother who had a very concerned look on her face. "Alex, are you okay?" she asked him

"Yeah, let me guess. Dad's division has been told about what happened with Anna?" he asked and his mother simply nodded. "I'm...okay for the moment, mom."

Morgana Slayton nodded, she knew that her first born knew how to hide his pain very well. "Alex, listen to me. You are going to be okay and you'll heal. Besides, thirty is the new twenty now true?" she said, a slight smile appearing on her face.

Now this made Marcus chuckle just a little bit, "I hear you mom. I think I just need to get away for a while you know?"

"I know, that is why I have the perfect way for you to get away for a bit, hun. Your sister Alexa is getting married next month and she was wanting me to ask you since I apparentally talk more to you, to officer on the USS Alabama in the form of a Lieutenant Commander Andrew Hagen-Umbervind, on his homeworld of New Avalon." Morgana said with a smile on her face.

Marcus nodded and thought about his kid sister, how she had grown from an ackward and long limbed child into an impressively talented and beautiful young reporter for the Interstellar News Network and it was kind of hard for him not to chuckle. "So, did this kid pass you and dad's inspection of him, does he meet dad's approval for marrying his youngest daughter?" Marcus asked as he leaned back in his chair.

"Of course, however Alexa has asked me that you meet and talk with him on New Avalon before the wedding, she really wants you to approve of him too because she looks up to you, Alex." Morgana said as she chuckled. "It's kind of like a two step approval process because of all those times that you beat up those kids for picking on Alexa when she was growning up."

"I didn't beat up anyone when I was a child, mom. That was a popular urban myth." Marcus retorted.

"Oh, I tend to recall a young man who once tried to force Alexa to go out with him because he thought she was an easy target to break by the name of Mike Carpenter and I tend to also recall that you beat him pretty soundly when you found out what he had tried to do to little Alexa..."

//////////////////////

<Flashback>

Location: New Caprica, Rhodes Colony
Date: May 10th, 2370

"Come on, how long does it take for her to get down here?" uttered a handsome young man as he knocked again politly on the front door of the Slayton homestead with a slight irriatated look on his face.

A little while ago, he had spotted Alexa walked through the New Caprica Galleria mall when she spotted him and took off like a bat out of hell along with her older sister Jessica-Marie and some tall man who seemed to be rather confused about what was going on but that was besides the point now, he had come to spend time with his girlfriend and nothing was going to stop him from it.

Suddenly, the door opened and Mike got ready to walk inside when he saw an unfamiliar looking six foot one man standing there with a rather cross look on his face which without breaking his stride, rammed his shoulder into Mike's chest and slamming the self-locking door behind him, thrown off-balance, Mike stumbled backwards and ended up sort of hop-dancing all the way down to the bottom of the steps.

Mike was a fairly big fellow, long arms and legs, sturdily built, looked like he might know what to do with himself in a fight. He was also well-dressed in a dress shirt, letterman's jacket, clean jeans, handsome, a particular sort of smmoth, refined, smug handsomeness that helped Mike get what ever he wanted out of life. "Who're you?" Mike asked the other man.

The tall man that Mike faced was wearing a black shirt with a pair of black old-style MACO combat pants and boots and he seemed to raidate somekind of anger as he descended the steps and as he came down each one, Mike backed away until he had him halfway to the street.

"Mike Carpenter, I presume." the man said, keeping his voice even.

"That's right," Mike said calmly. "I think I asked you a question."

"You don't get to know my name...not yet." said the other man. "You'd only get it dirty. What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

Carpenter looked irritated, folding his arms across his chest. "I came here to talk to my girlfriend, if that's any of your business." he said.

"Your girlfriend doesn't live here," the other man told him flatly. "Beat it."

"-You- don't live here," Mike replied. "Maybe -you- should be the one who beats it."

"I'm going to beat -something- if you don't get away from this house." the other man said.

"I don't know what side of whose bed you got up on this morning, punk." Carpenter replied with a tone of arrogant dismissal, "but if you're bent on making trouble, I can oblige. You want to wrestle and see who's stronger?"

The other man took another step toward him, but this time Mike didn't back away. So much the better. "It's not about stronger," the other man said calmly, "it's about smarter. Now go on. Alexa doesn't want to 'talk' to you , you son of a bitch. She never wants to see you again in her life, and if I have anything to say about it she never will. Get out of here before you get hurt." I'm through warning you."

Carpenter looked the other man up and down, from angry eyes to black boots and back again, then threw his head and laughed at him.

"Buddy, you're out of your fraking little mind." he said. "C'mere and let Uncle Mike teach you some manners."

Mike then reached out to grab the other man to do a judo throw so that he could easily get inside to Alexa and Mike was surprisingly fast, but the other man was faster. His left foot flicked over and then stomped down on the scoop of the snow shovel that someone had left sitting by the side of the walk. The shovel levered up, straight into the man's outstretched left hand and then he whirled it and clobbered him with a great resounding BLONG! Mike then staggered back, his hair knocked askew and shook his head.

Mike Carpenter's calm, languigd charm didn't survive the transition to mussed hair, bloody face and murderous eyes. "You shouldn't have done that, bitch," he murmured, wiping at his bloody nose with his sleeve. "Now I'm gonna have to take you apart. Teach you a -real- lesson.."

But the other man didn't give Mike a chance to say anything when he made to hit Mike again with the shovel in his left hand only to suddenly deck him across the face with his right and then the two started to trade blows back and forth before finally Mike had enough and pulled a small knife out of his pocket, it was a knife and held it out in front of him.

"Now what'cha gonna do, bitch? Now, nothing is going to stop me from seeing my girlfriend, not even you her fuck buddy or whatever!" Mike roared at him and at this, the other man simply threw back his head and started laughing. "What's so fucking funny!?" Mike said as he pointed at the other man with the knife.

The man simply looked at Mike with a look of scorn and said, "Alexa never mentioned me to you? You know that she's the second youngest of six children right?"

Mike simply snorted as Alexa had mentioned it once to him, "Yeah, what about it, bitch?" Mike said and then the man reached behind his back and pulled out a bigger knife and did something that caused two smaller "outrider" blades to appear from the hilt.

"Allow me to finally introduce myself, my name is Marcus Alexander SLAYTON...Alexa's older brother." Marcus said as he brought his d'tak into a guard position with a evil smile on his face. "Now, since you brought the knives into this, shall we finish it with your blood on the sidewalk?"

Mike simply looked at the other man and then his knife at which point Mike decided that he knew how to fight with a knife and charged at Marcus but instead Slayton whirled around and slammed the spiked bottom of the hilt hard into Mike's face, causing a gash to appear on his face...

A little while later, a couple members of colony security had shown up at the front door wanting to talk with Marcus and Alexa, while Marcus had only beaten Mike Carpenter into a bloody pulp-Carpenter's father wa s a poltical figure of some import or another which brought the security officers to the Slayton's front door and the truth about the "relationship" that Mike had with Alexa came up which lead to Mike being arrested and sentinced to twenty years for his crimes and Marcus simply went back to Starfleet a few days later. ////////////////////////////////

Marcus smirked, "Yeah, I did do that. I guess news travels huh?" he said as the memory of his fight with Mike Carpenter came back to him.

"Yeah, see my point. Andrew wants to meet with you so that you can judge him for yourself and besides, Alexa really wants you to meet your future brother in law." Morgana Slayton said with a smile on her face.

"Alright, after we get back to federation space, I'll take some of that ungodly amount of shoreleave that I've got built up and I'll go and visit this Hagen-Umbervind kid and see what's what. But I will be at the wedding, trust me." Marcus said and this made his mother smile.

"Alright, I'll talk to you later. My first class of the day has finally shown up and I need to get teaching, I love you son." his mother said.

"I love you too, Mom. Tell Dad and the others hi for me." Marcus said before he terminated the connection on his end and leaned back in his chair for a few moments before he turned and activated the terminal and sent a request in to the ship's computer bank. "Computer, search for the application process to the Starfleet Tactical School and look up information on standard departmental transfers."

"Primal Instincts"

Lt. Cmdr Brianna O'Shea
Julie (wrote by Stuart)

:: 'Vaden' ::

Anna had found some water but it wasn't much. Finally she convinced herself to see a place to rest some, the days had turned into weeks of constant moving. Now she needed a place just to rest, at least for a little while. Moving through the volcanic rock, she spotted place where she could rest. But something stopped her and she saw a single clone, possibility the one she saw earlier, he was watching something. Following his sight Anna could see he was watching a girl, she looked to be about ten years old, brown hair or could've just looked brown from dirt and grime.

Her tattered and torn shirt was more holes then fabric, her jeans was missing one leg at the thigh and her skin was almost as dark as Anna's own dirty and dried blood covered skin. ~Don't get involved.~ Anna's internal bitching voice said, the same one that had scolded her about being weak earlier. Turning Anna wasn't going to get involved, but then she looked back and knew that clone would do ungodly acts, but what if the child was a clone, what if all this was a game to catch her?

What if...

That's what kept resonating inside Anna's head. Until finally she sat her things down quietly, pulled her strip of metal she had honed as sharp as a knife. Moving quietly she began to stalk her prey, as if she were some beast of the night. Each step was taken with ease and assurance, each thought that came through her mind was fueled with anger and vengeance, for when she came up behind the cloned man her actions were so swift and sure, he didn't even know her knife had slit his throat until she had done so. His screams were never heard as his warm blood flowed over her hand as she held him. When he fell to the ground she knelt down and picked up a stone and with malice, pain and sorrow she smashed his face in as if he was the embodiment of everything that she had survived, yes, she had survived.

Wiping her knife on his clothing Anna's eyes glanced up toward the girl who had witnessed this. Anna looked at her with eyes without fear, for if the girl was a clone, she would just as easy kill her. "Go... this is no place for a child... find your mother or father or at least a place far from here." Anna said, her voice raspy and hoarse. Anna then got up and moved to get her things, she had to move and find a place where she could work on the transmitter.

"Hi!" Julie said with a wave. "Thank you for saving me. Are you new here? I haven't seen you around here before, so you must be new. Can you teach me to kill? Like you did to him? I've lost my mommy, have you seen her? You got anything to eat? I'm starved."

Anna just looked at her. Unable to say anything as the child seemed to run on some form on alien energy. ~Kill her... she'll only slow you down. Killing her would be a mercy for her in the long run and you know it.~ The voice said, Anna's hand held the strip of metal. Even from here she could almost see the girl's blood veins in her neck pulse with the beat of her heart.

"Oh, I'm sorry," She giggled, "I tend to get like that when I'm nervous. I'll try and ask one thing at a time." Julie smiled up at the dark haired woman. "I'm Julie."

"Shh.." Was all Anna finally said.

Julie sat on a rock for a moment. It had been too long since she had seen anyone out here in the wasteland. Too long. Her mother had gone out one day to look for food and hadn't come home. And she had been looking for her, with no luck, ever since. She missed her mommy very much. She missed the company of others, but especially mommy. "I've lived out here for all my life. Have never known anything else. There's a small cave nearby if you want to have a rest. You look a little tired. It's just over there." She pointed towards an outcropping of rock.

Looking toward the out cropping of rock Anna then looked back to the girl. "Go... build a fire." Anna said, not saying anything else. Once the girl left Anna turned back to the clone and then began to get some food off him. Then stopped cause they might know she was feeding off them, he could be tainted. Looking around she then saw there was nothing around she could give the girl to eat. Moving she followed behind the girl. ~Fraking kill her, she's only going to slow you down or betray you... she's working with them.~ The voice told her as she walked.

~No one is this trusting on this planet... wake up, Anna!~ The voice yelled.

"Wait!" Anna snapped at the girl, again her hand held her knife. Approaching the girl she looked her, never breaking their eye contact. "No fire..." She said then walked past the girl into the cave.

Julie stood there for a moment shaking. The woman had looked like she was going to attack with that weapon. But, as she moved past her, and into the cave, she breathed a sigh of relief.

It was very seldom that she met anyone out here. And she wasn't going to let the opportunity pass. Smiling with glee, she skipped into the cave.

Her cave was small, big enough for herself and her new friend, but there wasn't much more space after that. The rocky walls once held a think layer of moss, but over time Julie's rumbling stomach had seen off most of it, and the rest, she had left to see if it might grow bigger, providing more food. Alas, so far it hadn't done so. The floor of the cave was relatively flat, and covered in sand.

As she entered, Julie past the remnants of the fire she had made the night before, and the now clean bone structure of the rat she had eaten. Giving it a little kick, she moved over to the older woman. Weary of the knife she was still holding, Julie cautiously sat down. When the woman didn't lower the weapon, Julie decided that she would try and be as friendly as possible. "Hi. Are you hungry?"

"I'm fine." Anna said, not ready to eat anything this girl could offer her. Her eyes continued to watch her as the internal battle over if she should kill this girl out of mercy to help her get out of this hell, or if she was a traitor.

"I've got a little food, but not enough for a long time. Here," she said as she reached to the crack in the wall at the back of the cave, and pulled her hand back with a handful of moss. "It isn't that tasty, but it is edible."

Anna just watched her.

Seeing that the woman was even more weary of her, she broke it in half and started munching on one half while offering the other. "You look hungry to me."

"I said I'm fine." Anna said, as she opened her makeshift pouch and then looked at the girl. "I'm laying this down," Anna said showing her the metal 'knife'. "You try to touch it I will kill you.." Anna said, the look in her eyes showed she was telling the truth. Pulling out the transmitter she began to use her shaking and raw hands to try and get it up and running again.

"Where... where is your mother... father?" Anna asked, having not heard what she'd said earlier about her mother.

Julie scratched at the slight Klingon ridges that graced her forehead, a parting gift from her Klingon father, not that she had ever met him. "Never met daddy - and mommy never talked about him." She said. "An' as I said before, my mommy went out a long ago and didn't come back. I be looking for her ever since. You haven't seen her have you?" She munched on the moss. It still tasted foul after this long time of eating the stuff, but she ate it anyway.

"What's that?" she asked, nodding towards the device the woman had been playing with. "Looks like fun. Can I play with it?"

Looking at her for a moment. "NO!" Anna snapped. "You don't touch this." She said as she looked back down at the device. "Just a transmitter." Anna said, not mentioning anything about how she was using it to get off this rock. Cause they might not be room for the child. "Are you always... this cheerful?" Anna asked, as she looked over at her.

Julie looked up at the woman. "Cheerful... you are the first person I see in many moons. Does it bother you?"

"Yes... it's distracting." Anna said, about her personality.

"Oh..." Julie's smile faded slightly. "I'll try and not be so cheerful."

Looking back down she then switched the device on and let it run for a little bit. "You have water?" Anna asked, her mouth was so dry right now.

"It hasn't rained here for ages. And the moss is pretty dry." Julie responded. She was happy that she had found a new friend, but wasn't sure about sharing the last of her supplies. It was a tough choice. The woman could easily drink the three mouthfuls that were left and then leave. But then again she might be trying to get out of the hell hole that was this world, perhaps she might have room for a little child. After a minute of thought she decided on what she was going to do. she turned from the woman and using the palms of her hands, started digging in the soft sand at the back of the cave.

She paused slightly when she sensed the woman getting agitated and no doubt picking up the weapon. "I'm digging something up." Was all she said.

~Something up, she's getting her weapon! Kill her now! Kill her!~ The voice screamed in Anna's head. Moving her hand slowly down to her side, Anna, picked up the metal 'knife' and got ready to strike.

Her hands met the edges of the object and she cleared the sand from the sides and top. Gently pulling it from the sand, she cleaned the sand from the top with a strong deep breath. Turning back, she presented the can for inspection, trying to placate the look the woman had in her eyes. "It's just a can, a rusty old can."

Relaxing a little, seeing it was just a can.

She lifted the lid of the can, its sharp edges having been dulled over the last few years of use. The thin slip of metal that still held the lid to the can was almost gone, but that didn't matter, she had another one in a cave a few hours walk away and could always use that.

Liquid sloshed about the can as she turned it towards the woman. A little rust and a fair bit of dirt could be seen settled on the bottom, and the sides of the can showed their age, but it was water none the less.

"Water?" Anna asked, cautiously. She then paused and reached out for the can and took it into her worn hands and looked at it for a minute.

"Yes, it's water. It is all I have." It was a lie, for she had two other caves that she sometimes made her home in, but the woman didn't need to know that. They were a little distance away from this one, so there wasn't much point mentioning them. At least not until she got to know the woman better.

Anna took a small sip and then handed it back to the girl. "That's all I need." Anna said, truth of it was she could have drank it all, then wanted more. She didn't. "Save it for..."

Julie interrupted the woman. "Shhh... I hear voices out there." She pointed towards the entrance to the cave. They sounded a way away but the rocky area was good at echoing sounds.

Still holding her weapon she clicked off the transmitter and slid it back into the makeshift back. "Is there a another way out of this cave?" Anna asked.

"The Game is on"

1st Lt. 1st Lt. Jebidiah Baile
Raschek & Szekely (Wrote by Trey)

Raschek laughed as Baile hit the floor. "Warden just doesn't know how to handle your kind." He said then spat on Baile. "That's alright though, sure the Hydrans will have a nice little place for you." he said standing there for a moment as he looked at Baile.

He remained on the ground for nearly a minute. It wasn't as much the pain as he didn't want the stupid guards to see the prod didn't really affect him. His body kept throwing one surprise after the other at him. He didn't really want to get into a heavy fight until he understood what had happened to him.

"He doesn't even know he's going to be fixed by his creators." Raschek said to the Godsmen, turning his back now to Baile. "He's not even worth my attention... close it up, he's broken." Raschek stated as he holstered the prod on his belt.

Getting back up on his feet Baile stumbled a little, seemingly affected by the electric charge. It felt strange. His mind told him he should be laying down in spasms, but his body had already shaken off the effects. It would take some getting used to, that was for sure.

Szekely was in for murder. Or rather murders. He wasn't sure of how many he had killed. A bounty-hunter had found him more than 30 years ago and he was still here. Now he belonged to the veterans. His skills as a doctor made sure Raschek didn't put him on the heavy duty rotation.

Szekely was one way for Raschek to meet the weekly quotas and with the Hydrans crawling all over the planet the Warden didn't want to fail meeting those quotas. He looked at the newcomer and found it quite surprising to see him standing up shortly after being introduced to Raschek's Painstick. Not many could do that. Certainly not humans. "Take a few deep breaths my friend. It will help."

The newcomer looked at him, but he was unable to see his eyes due to the goggles the newcomer wore. Szekely could already see how the Vultures prepared to strip the newcomer of any valuables. Goggles like that would be a nice prize for one of the gang leaders.

Szekely approached Baile and looked at him, he then shook his head. "You've certainly caused little up roar with our gracious warden." He said, his voice could hear the sarcasm drenched within the words. Wasn't a question why a person was here, it was more, who did you kill. "Let me look at that wound." Szekely said to Baile as he moved to cheek where Baile was bleeding from his side.

Touching the cheek Baile looked at the blood on his fingertips. "Don't worry.. it'll stop soon." Strangely enough he sounded amused. He didn't know why but a part of him enjoyed it all. Enjoyed the danger, the threat. "I'm Baile.. "

"Szekely... though I'm known as Doc... welcome to our little holiday." Szekely said as he sat back down, since Baile didn't want help. "Since you arrived the Warden has taken time off everyone else... you must be a favored one."

"Oh yeah.. he loves me.. " the marine grinned. He rolled his neck until the tension left it with a few loud cracks. "Who's loverboy?" he asked and motioned back to where Rascheck had left.

"Raschek... the man in real control around here. Warden is just propaganda..... the one to be careful of is Raschek." Szekely stated as he brought a hand up and ran it over his graying hair. "I've seen him do things I wouldn't even think of doing to another living being."

The marine chuckled, something which sounded very out of place in a prison where the inmates died on a regularly basis. "Guess I'll have to pay him a visit before I leave.."

"You'll not be leaving here, son." Szekely said, addressing the man as if he was younger, truth Baile was, but a good thirty years. "I've been here probably longer then you've been alive, I've not seen a way off this rock."

This time Baile smiled. It was most definitely not a nice smile. "You're not me, old man.. I already know the way out.. " He looked at the older man in front of him. "You aren't tagged. No markings, no color. No crew... a fixer.. "

"Long time ago, I was a doctor... who tried for perfection and failed...." He said then shrugged. "Lives had to be lost for perfection.... now I'm just waiting for hell to welcome me." Szekely said then stood up. "You get off this place will take a act of God and a few hundred miracles."

"I don't give a fuck if you had to butcher an entire planet to perfect breast implants.. God and me aren't on speaking terms anyway." Baile replied and finally stretched his back. It was weird. He couldn't remember his arms being that... big.. Had he gained mass? "Besides.. I create my own miracles.. but for that I need a shiv and some information.."

"Both could be arranged... one condition." Szekely stated as he looked at Baile. "Take me with you." He said.

"You can't keep up, old man.. no one can.."

Szekely nodded he didn't think the man would. "I've got a shiv in my belongs..... what information do you need?" Szekely asked, only reason he was helping Baile was cause he was the personification of perfection, that for Szekely's scientific mind was something that shouldn't be contained in a prison.

"How do I get Fatty's Loverboy out here? He's has access to information I need.. "

"Well there is one thing I can think of that would get him out here..." Szekely said, then turned slightly and came back around and punched Baile hard in the face, once Baile took a step back, Szekely brought his foot up and kicked Baile in the side of the torso and then turned into him and give him a series of hits into the kidney's and groin. The guards started yelling and

Raschek stepped out of another building and began to quickly head for the 'cell' area.

The fighter inside Baile woke up and it took a few seconds before he had suppressed it sufficiently not to hunt down the old man and break his spine. He slipped past a punch from Szekely and grabbed him by the collar. "Cell?" he whispered and was awarded with a slight nod with the head from Szekely.

He pushed the old man towards the cell and finally tackled him inside before the guards could reach them. He could hear Raschyk bellow outside, ordering the prisoners to stand clear. Several prisoners stood in the opening to the tiny cell that was Szeleky's home, blocking the way for the guards.

Baile had to give Szekely credit for possessing a fast mind. It took no more than a few seconds before he had slipped the shiv to Baile. Quickly he hid it just in time to turn around and dodge a blow from a guard. He elbowed the guard in the face, breaking the guard's nose in the process. Then Raschyk entered the cell.

Raschek kicked Szekely in the face and then looked toward Baile, as if blaming him for all this. Noticing something in Baile hand he shoved him against the wall and saw the shiv at that point. "Drag'm from here!" He yelled to the guards. "Put Szekely in isolation!"

Baile dropped into a combat stance. Killing Raschyk would be easy. The man was slow, complacent and relied on fear to do his work for him. But he wasn't here to kill Raschyk. Just get out of the prison. Killing Raschyk would be a bonus.

"Take him to my office." Raschek said as he turned and said something's to the guards moving Szekely. After a few moments he followed after the two guards moving baile into the private office.

The guards landed a few blows with their batons and Baile was more than happy to play along. How the hell could his body take the kind of beating he had submitted it to for the last 24 hours? And what would happen once he hit the limit? Death? Collapse?

Once they were inside Raschek's office, the guards left him in the able care of Raschek and took a place outside the room. Raschek didn't say anything as he back handed Baile and then looked at him. "I don't care who you are, what you worth to the Hydrans or if you are the prized object that shits golden eggs... I'll kill you."

The backhand snapped Baile's head to the side and he slowly turned it back until he faced Raschek again. "And here I thought we could be friends..." Not yet, he reminded himself.

"All I want to know is why you are so important to the warden... want to answer that before I send you to one of the thousand hells you'll be spending the rest of your life in?" Raschek asked as he stood there, arms doubled over his chest.

"Wouldn't you like to know.." Baile replied as his pulse calmed down and the adrenaline started flowing. He felt his senses sharpen and his entire body felt like it was ready to explode into motion. "Tell me.. how tough are you?"

"Beat your ass, didn't I?" Raschek asked as he moved now to sit down. "Going to be fun when you are fixed by the hydrans, who knows, in time we could even be on the same side of the coming war."

Baile's face went neutral. It took effort to simply stand still. All his body wanted to do was move. To fight. "Same side? Sparky.. there's two sides in a war.. my side and then there's dead people.."

"Wrong..." Raschek replied. "There is your side, my side and then there is dead side.... you don't have a side any more, you are just prisoner."

"Let's put that theory to the test then.."

Raschek stood up. "Choose your words carefully, Mr. Baile... for I can have your tongue cut out."

"So far you're doing all the talking.."

With that, Raschek back handed baile again, this time the blow twisted Baile's head to the side. "Sit down!"

Straightening his head again Baile just smiled. Death smiled. "Brianna O'Shea.. " Baile said but remained standing.

Raschek looked at him and knew who he was talking about. It never showed on his face. "What?" he asked, as if he didn't understand. "I want to know why the warden hates you."

"Brianna O'Shea." Baile repeated. "Where is she?"

"She's dead..." He replied, course she wasn't she was an even bigger pain in his ass this Baile was being. She had remained elusive and had killed more of his men then he would ever admit to anyone. "Lovely little bitch.... quiet pleasurable to." He said, cause he had in fact had his way with her when he had her in custody.

"Pleasurable?" Raschek still had his balls where they were supposed to be so Anna wasn't dead. This is the last time I'll ask nicely." Baile said, completely ignoring the fact the Raschek was both heavier, armed and wore body armor. The marine practically oozed self-confidence now. There was no sense in maintaining the illusion any more.

"Dead...." He said sitting back down, he wasn't concerned with Baile. "Should have heard her screams... like music, must be the flavor of where she comes from on the human world. She called for everyone that she could think of... no one came for her... in time... her screams left and she just laid there," he said pausing to look at Baile. "I think I rather liked it more when she was screaming.."

Baile looked at the man sitting in front of him. "You'll wish you'd told me."

"Why is that?" Raschek asked.

"Cause in about thirty seconds you'll be laying on the ground with a broken legs and both your hands will be nailed to the floor with that knife you're packing on your thigh. Roughly three minutes after that the guards you left outside will be dead and two minutes after that a riot will start."

Funny... think that's how I frelled the O'Shea woman the first time." Raschek said then grinned. "No shit... you on meth?" He asked, grinning once more as he shook his head.

Baile didn't respond. Instead he moved. Fast. He grabbed the man by the collar and practically threw him across the desk into the wall behind them. It wasn't without some degree of satisfaction he let loose all of the energy that had built up inside of him. Reschak was a strong man, working out as often as he could and enhancing that effect with steroids. But compared to the prisoner he was weak. Baile hit Raschek on the throat with a kick. Not enough to choke him, but certainly enough to keep him from screaming.

As Raschek's hands went up to his throat by instinct Baile grabbed Raschek's ankle in a leghold and carried the movement through, snapping the lower leg in two. "Five seconds." Baile whispered to Raschek as his eyes opened wide in pain.

Raschek groaned but was unable to say anything, so instead his answer to Baile was one of moving his hand down to his side. Taking the knife from his thigh and jamming it into Baile's side and twisting it slightly as he struggled not to subcome to the pain that was coursing through his body by the damage Baile had given.

"Now look what you did.. " Baile said and placed his hand over Raschek's. He had been able to move somewhat to the side but the blade had still buried itself a good two inches in. Baile's hand squeezed down on Raschek's and the cracking of bones started to sound. Slowly he pulled the knife out as Raschek's fingers snapped one by one from the sheer pressure Baile put on them.

The blade exited Baile's body and much to Raschek's horror Baile started twisting the blade towards Raschek's good hand. With a movement so fast his hand became a blur he caught Raschek's free hand and held it almost as hard across the wrist. The bones in Raschek's wrist started developing fine hairline fractures almost instantly.

The floor in Raschek's office was made of metal but it sported several large holes for easy cleaning. Disciplining inmates could be a messy sport. The marine placed Raschek's hand over one of those holes and forced the now useless hand holding the knife over to it. Slowly, ever so slowly he placed the tip of the knife in Raschek's palm until he was certain the chief of Security could feel the pain. As soon as he could feel Raschek start to struggle he pressed the knife through the hand and as soon as the knife was through he repeated the process with the other hand. "You should have told me when I asked..."

Raschek was unable to move. From his one hand searing in pain and the other now the focus of Baile's venom, there was nothing he could do cause of his leg. He couldn't say anything, so even if he could tell Baile what he wanted to know there was no way he could with his bruised throat. Raschek knew there was a good chance he was going to die this day, but the thing that he took great joy in was he had spent the better part of six months looking for the bitch that had stabbed him, there wasn't a place he hadn't looked so he knew Baile wouldn't find her either.

"Don't worry.. I'll keep you alive long enough for you to see all of this come down around you.." He grabbed the cattleprod from Raschek and stood up. Looking around he soon found what he was looking for. Fuses. Lots of them. A few seconds later he jammed the cattleprod into the fuses and pressed the discharge button on the prod. A shower of sparks lit up the room like a Christmas tree while the rest of the lights went offline.

Satisfied with the result and the surprised voices outside he removed the goggles and once more the darkness inside the room vanished. Darkness had settled and that was his domain.

Raschek could hear the sounds of chaos outside his door. It was the sound of death moving around the complex. He could hear guards calling for help, then in the end an eerie silence..... in his last breath he looked up toward the darkened ceiling thinking who in hell had created this Pandemic Monster as he took his last breath...

"Thin Line"

Pilot Paulo DiMillo
Lt(jg) Cora Dobryin

*****

Paulo sat in his quarters, alone, staring at a pair of pictures. One held him and Anna and the other was him as a kid with his younger brother and sister. He had nothing to do anymore. He was suspended from SFI and that meant he had nothing to do now. He had no hobbies really. He had very few friends. So, he just sat there, staring at the pictures.

This was one of those times Cora hated having a super busy schedule. During a free moment she went to just spend time with Paulo. Signaling her presence she waited.

He looked up setting the pictures down. "Come," he ordered.

"Paulo," Cora began after she entered, "I thought I'd stop by and see how you're doing."

"I'm dandy," he said sarcastically. "I have so much free time now, I don't know what to do with it all."

For a moment she looked at him, "I'm worried about you."

He looked up at her and stood up walking towards her with his arms outstretched. He walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her. "Don't worry," he said. "I will get through this... somehow."

"I didn't know if you'd be up to having me here or not," Cora responded as her tone got quieter.

"It's not your fault I am in the situation I am in," he told her. "It's my fault."

She looked at him comforted by his embrace yet fully aware she reminded him of what he'd lost, "So what can I do for you?"

"I don't know," he told her. "I truly don't even know what I have to do for myself."

She looked at him comforted by his embrace yet fully aware she reminded him of what he'd lost, "So what can I do for you?"

"Just be here," he said heading for the couch. "I guess I am just a mess. I joined SFI for all the wrong reasons, and it's affected how I have done things. It has held me back."

Cora just let him voice his thoughts as she followed Paulo to the couch. "I love you don't forget that."

He smiled and hugged her again. After a moment he broke it. "So, where do we go from here?" He asked,

"For now how about dinner and some quiet time together," She was off duty at the moment but knew that could change with the Intelligence department being ultra busy currently. "I need a break but was more than serious about just wanting to spend time with you."

Paulo smiled. "In or out?"

"I'll leave that decision up to you," Cora smiled, "Since I believe I cooked last time."

"In it is," he said standing up and heading towards the replicator. "Any requests? I may not be able to cook anything fresh, but I can get this thing to make a few good things."

Cora simply smiled, "Good I like having you all to myself and I'm in a mood for something with beef."

He smiled, "oh?" He said tapping in a few things and headed back to the couch and took her in his arms planting a kiss.

She just smiled hoping it wasn't a complete surprise to him. It was also a factor in why Cora worried about Paulo as well.

"I think dinner can wait."

"Smeg...I think we have a problem!"

Joe's monthly audit time foray into the lives of the Bhrode Bunch!

With Fleet Admiral John Q. Bhrode, former Captain of the USS GALAXY, and current commanding officer of the Olympic Fleet.

Also appearing: Director Nowlan Phall, Director of PROJECT: NARNIA at the K57 research and development facility
And sundry members of Bhrode's command crew.

Location: The Observation Deck of K-57 (a classified research instillation on the fringes of Federation space in the Beta Quadrant.)

Previously: Realizing that the infamous treaty between the Borg and the Federation will soon come to an end, Fleet Admiral John Q Bhrode and his Olympus fleet set sail for the K57 research facility where an unsanctioned prototype of a transwarp gate has been built in the hopes of advanced recon of Borg activities. That prototype is now ready for testing and Commander Lysander Hawksley has taken the USS HERMES through...

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"Surround yourself with the best people you can find. Delegate authority and don't interfere." - Ronald Reagan.

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"I'm getting something." the normally cavalier Commander Hawksley called across the comm channel with a hint of tension, causing Fleet Admiral John Q. Bhrode's eyes to narrow even further. Director Phall began to blot his forehead with his shirt sleeve as their attention focused on the giant viewscreen before them, currently transmitting a real time video feed from the HERMES, an image of Hawksley from the Bridge of the Hermes and an image of Commander Von Ernst onboard the ZEUS.

On the screen, images in the center slowly began to come into focus. One by one, Borg cubes could be seen winking into the starscape, until the screen was filled with them.

"I'll be damned." Brhode uttered, then ordered data streams and sensors to begin recordings - an unnessicary order as his crew was no doubt doing that even as they spoke, but one he felt compelled to call out.

The station's army of scientists didn't waste time celebrating. Instead they began processing the information they were receiving. The veteran Admiral silently acknowledged their readiness as Hawksley's next transmission came across.

"I sure hope Phall is right." Lysander broadcast as a Borg cube swooped past his position. "I feel like a little worm on a big fraggin hook right now."

No sooner had the Commander spoken then one of the Borg Cubes nearest to the conduit opening slowed it's speed.

"Oh, smeg!" Hawksley spat. "I think we have a problem!"

"OLYMPUS FLEET! RED ALERT!! EXECUTE FORMATION ALPHA" Bhrode ordered.

Outside of the K-57 station, the eight other starships that comprised the Fleet Admiral's personal force took up a two tiered defense with the first wave, spearheaded by the Admiral's flagship, positioned themselves at the maw of the gate, hopefully to allow Commander Hawksley to escape, failing that they were ready to collapse the gate itself.

The second tier flanked the station, weapons armed and trained on the station itself ready to destroy it should things escalate too far.

"Telemetry projections say that we've been discovered." a slightly balding technician announced from Bhrode's left. "It looks as though the cube is turning around and coming back."

"IMPOSSIBLE!" Director Phall yelled as the Cube maneuvered exactly as had been announced.

It was now moving in a direct line towards where the USS HERMES was hiding.

"Number Two, get out of there now." Bhrode ordered to his second officer.

"Sensors are skewed. We're looking at a ghosting of some sort. Hold on." Hawksley transmitted as he was seen digesting what his crew was telling him.

"COMMANDER, I DONT GIVE A GODDAMN IF YOU WANT TO OFFER YOUR ASS TO AN ALIEN RECTAL PROBE! JUMP IN AN ESCAPE POD, PRESS HAM AGAINST THE WINDOW PANE AND BITE YOUR BOTTOM LIP!!! YOU GET MY SHIP OUT OF THERE YESTERDAY!!!" the old man thundered.

"Admiral, I have a priority incoming message from Ambassador Streely." Commander Rebecca Von Ernst announced from the ZEUS.

"TAKE A MESSAGE!" Bhrode barked. "HAWKSLEY WHY HAVEN'T THIS OLD MAN'S EYES SEEN YOU BEGIN TO GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE YET?"

"Borg cube is powering up their weapons array." Phall announced. "You have to get them out of there now!"

"Number Two, did you hear happen to catch that? Or are you going to ignore that fact like you did to my previous two orders - acts that are career limiting by the way?"

"I got it. I don't think we've been seen. There's something else going on. I'm sure of it. " Hawksley said. "Trust me on this one."

"Admiral, Ambassador Streely is claiming that Lt. Darkstar has shot him in the posterior with a phaser." Von Ernst called out. "Shall I beam you aboard the ZEUS now, Sir?"

Bhrode weighed his options. In the years he had spent serving with Lysander Hawksley, the Centurian had shown flares of tactical brilliance that very few could match. He was reckless, daring and headstrong in a way that was reminiscent of James Kirk. The kid knew his shit, plain and simple. If he thought he was needlessly endangering the crew of the Hermes, he would have exited the gate long before now. He also believed that the more a general is accustomed to place heavy demands on his soldiers, the more he can depend on their response.

"Issue an order to Henderson to give Darkstar a medal. Stand by to transport on my order. Number Two, stand your ground. Don't fire unless fired upon. If they mean to have war, let it begin here."

"The Borg are firing at the gate..." the tech announced as a brilliant green beam shot out from the Borg cube, singed it's way through space and connected with a ship that had been out of sight only meters behind the opening of the transwarp gate.

The assembled aboard the station breathed a collective (no pun intended) sigh of relief as the small alien craft was reeled in with the Borg Cube's tractor beam. They watched as the ship was held in the Borg's grip knowing that the drones were stripping all of men, women and children from the unknown craft to subject them to the painful horrors of assimilation. Moments later, the craft was destroyed and the cube returned to it's original heading.

"I think I deserve a bump in rank for that call. Showed a little balls on my part, I think." Hawksley said draping a leg over the arm of the Captain's Chair, visibly relieved yet still determined to act as though he was his usual self.

"You are correct. Congratulations, Number Two. You are hereby promoted to Captain. Commander Von Ernst, please log the record as such." Bhrode ordered, clasping both hands behind his back and watching the final sparks from the destroyed craft fade from space.

"Sir?" Commander Rebecca Von Ernst paused, her amazingly accurate analytical mind unable to suddenly wrap itself around this new revelation and the no doubt smug look of celebration that she knew was on the Centurian's face".

"You heard me Number One." Bhrode barked. "Also, please note that due to disobeying not one, but two direct orders, Captain Hawksley has just has his brevet rank rescinded."

Aboard the USS Zeus, the diminutive Von Ernst suppressed a grin.

"Aye, Sir. Congratulations and my condolences, Cap..I mean Commander Hawksley." she broadcast.

"Olympus Fleet, stand down and return to your previous positions. Number Two, if you are now so inclined, I think we have had enough excitement for one day. Return to the station." Brhode ordered.

Hawksley acknowledged with a nod and ordered the HERMES to plot a coarse out of the conduit. He paused when Bhrode's voice once again broke across the comm channel.

"And your right. That did take balls. There may be a place for you in this man's Navy yet."

"On This Eve of Passion"

Nara & Saul

*****Holodeck 3*****

Nara sat on the edge of the cliff as the mist at her feet lazily drifted. She held her knees comfortably, smiling at the holographic village below. She hadn't added people, partly to keep herself reminded it was just a projection. This was one of her favorite spots of Sakaria and both times Saul had come with her, she had not yet brought him to it.

So this is where she waited for him as she thought of the cryptic message she sent only saying to meet her at this holodeck on this day at this time. She tried to make it sound official. As if Engineering discovered some information Tactical would like. She chuckled thinking how interested he would be. She did hope he was in good humor today and not get upset at the misleading.

At the exact same moment, Saul was just two decks away, the turbolift carrying him hastily toward his destination. As Nara intended, he was quite curious about the way she phrased her invitation. Even ignoring the fact that they were lovers, Saul wasn't a fan of officiality. Anyone on Tactical who called him 'Lieutenant' or 'sir' when not in strictly official circumstances won a glare, or a sly comment. So having this from Nara?"

Soon, he was at the holodeck door, pressing the panel. 'She's probably just trying to get back at me for leaving her that note before departing to Vaden', he told himself.

Her smile widened as she heard the chime. She called out the command to allow him access.

Interesting and intriqueing thing about holodecks is how two people could be there, in the same small room, but they never really knew where the other person was in the illusion of the hologram.

When the door opened, Saul was looking into a forest. There was a clear path that subtly hinted where the person entering was intended to go.

But he didn't saw hide or hair of Nara.

"Princess!", He called out, but all he heard was echoes of his voice. The truth was that Saul quite disliked holodecks. As much as they simulated reality, there was no replacement in his opinion for the real thing. Holodecks always felt... artificial. That's also why he never went sailing in the holodecks, but always waited to shoreleaves for a chance to sail into the open sea.

He began paced forward, following the clear path.

It wasn't long until the trees thinned out and it was obvious the ground stopped ahead and the grass gave way to a graggly rock outcropping. On this outcropping, he could see soft flowing linen slightly flowing in simulated wind. The linen was covering the back of someone he would likely recognize right away.

"May I please speak with Lieutenant J.G. Naranda S. Roswell regarding a holodeck session which might be of interest for the Tactical department head?", He asked.

She wiped the smile off her face and stood to face him, revealing that the white linen continued down into a long flowing skirt. Only a belt revealed her curves and her arms were exposed as long as a good part of her neckline where a thin silver chain was worn.

She looked very somber as she answered, "Yes. I thought you would be interested in knowing some important information that may concern a woman he knows."

"A woman who looks stunningly beautiful today, perhaps?", Saul suggested.

The smiled returned and she giggled, "You figured me out."

He took a step forward and kissed her on the cheek. "A nice program... what's the plan?"

She took his hands, "A walk maybe." She looked serious a moment, "And I think...I am ready to try again." She tensed at the idea, but also looked stubborn to get past that.

Saul inhaled sharpy, surprised. "Here? At the holodeck? I... I would love to, but it's a public place."

Intelligence officers don't blush, he reminded himself. Then he recalled that he was in Tactical now, and his face began matching colors with his uniform's collar.

She let out a chuckle, "No, not here." She looked up into his eyes again, smiling, "I just wanted to meet you here, be together with you here awhile. Well sort of here. As close to this place as we could get. Or as close as my programming skills can get us."

She shook her head realizing she was rambling. "When we go back to Sakaria, I want to show it to you and you can get the full effect."

She took his hand and started to pace to a path that would lead to the stream that watered the village.

"It may take a while... we were lucky to have such a long leave.", Saul told her softly. What he didn't tell was that in the next shoreleave he'll have, his destination will be quite different. "So this is Sakaria, isn't it? I should've guessed..."

She smiled, settling comfortably into the stride and conversation with him.

However--and it seemed too soon--her reserved time was over and the chime meant the next person was waiting outside. She called for the command to end the program and the beautiful landscape disappeared and she frowned at reality a moment.

"What's with the face?", Saul asked.

She shrugged, "Just almost got lost in the illusion and sad to see it go." She turned and smiled at him, "At least you're real." She looked down shyly, "Maybe we need to leave before the person outside gets ansy."

"Shall we.", Saul agreed, and offered her his arm, then poked her nose with his free hand. "Hey! You're real, too."

After they had started down the hall she suggested, "Maybe your quarters? Not sure if Bran is home or not..." She tapered off, hating to mention her roomate for the fact it was a bit awkward with the past situations still lingering. Perhaps this was another reason to get her and Saia a place of their own eventually.

"Yea, sure thing.", Saul's voice trailed as he thought of his recent incident with Bran, which no one knew about except for the Welsh marine and Dr. Burton.

Then, he realized what he was agreeing to.

"Eh, Nara? I told you I have a guest, right?"

She nodded, "As I recall. I'd like to meet her actually." The words had no hint of jealousy. Basically she was curious. She would be surprised about bringing home someone from a mission, but she had Saia. But Saia was a young girl who needed a guardian. Nara didn't know how old this girl was, but she was interested in at least meeting her if not know how or why she ended up in Saul's quarters.

Saul murmured something in Hebrew. The direct translation would be 'Hear me god', and the last time he said it he was sure that his death by the hand of the Dithparu was iminent.

* * *

Eve turned her head sharply when the door to Saul's quarters opened. She was sitting by the table, which was loaded with food from the replicator, and holding a soft sponge ball which she tossed at the wall about eight hundred times since Saul left the room that morning.

"I can get used to it.", She said, leaping to her feet with an almost feline smirk spread on her mouth. The, she noticed Nara. With a few quick steps she closed the gap between her and Saul, and wrapped an arm around the poor Tactical chief's shoulder.

"Hi! I'm Eve. So YOU are the girl from the bathroom!", She proclaimed.

Watching the woman with intrique wondering what she could get used to. Then she turned to Saul, almost laughing at not understanding what in the universe this woman was talking about. She raised an eyebrow, "Bathroom? It wasn't her." She turned to the girl, answering, "It wasn't me." She looked back at Saul, a small smirk curving on her lips, "Got someone hidden in the Bathroom?"

"Not quite."

"Yesterday good ole' Shaul here was speaking with someone while he was in the bathroom. I assumed it was a girl.", Eve explained, tapping on Saul's cheek as he mentioned his name.

Nara laughed, "He was likely talking to himself." Something flashed in her eyes a moment, starting to dislike this woman all over Saul. She tried to ignore it.

"So you know.", Eve started, more than a hint of mischief in her tone, "If you're his girlfriend, then I can share a few ti--"

Saul hissed something in a foreign language into Eve's ear.

"You think she'd tell anyone?", Eve protested.

"It doesn't matter.", Saul insisted, then whispered again.

"You're right, I suppose.", She signed. "But if Starfleet won't kill me, boredom will. Didn't your life become much more boring when you left home?"

Nara was watching the exchange with a bit less laughter and a tad more unease. She could handle secrets behind her back, but when they were wispered to another woman in front of her, something primal had to be kept back.

"On the contrary, they became more interesting.", Saul told Eve. "And...we've got good food.". He turned to face Nara, gently removing Eve's arm.

"I know Eve from my homeplanet. Other than that, it would be better if you won't ask any questions."

Nara just looked at him a moment, feeling a bit put off suddenly.

"I promise not to steal him.", Eve added, and returned to the waiting piles of food..

Nara kept looking at Saul and answered defensively, "If I have any questions about you, I ask you."

"All right then.", said Saul.

"You know, if you guys need some privacy, you can just let me out to wander around for a bit.", Eve offered innocently.

"You know I can't.". Saul said, gently leading Nara toward the door leading to the bedroom. "I'm sorry.", He said, and Nara couldn't tell if it was meant for her or for the guest.

"Why?" Nara crossed her arms showing him she wasn't feeling too affectionate anymore.

"Why what?"

"Why can't you let her out? We let the Jem'Hadar wander about here like it's not a big deal, why the hell can't Eve?" She shook her head, knowing already he wouldn't tell her, "Just tell me this. Is she even supposed to be here? People know I know you. Tell me the lies so I know what to say." It was said with a bit of bitterness, her tolerance suddenly growing thin.

Saul gazed at the door solemnly. "It was decided that we should minimize her contact with officers as much as possible. She's--"

So he was going to lie to Nara, too. Again. Saul quickly thought of a way to phrase things and make them less of a lie, and more of a half truth.

"Eve is a friend, from Utrecht III. I found her in enemy territory, and needed to get her back. She provided me with some information, so as far as Starfleet concerned she's my agent and thus I'm responsible for her. So I'm keeping her here not because I'm afraid of what SHE may find out - but because I'm afraid of what the others may find out. Satisfied?"

The glare softened, and she tried to push aside the unease of his secrets. She did uncross her arms as she answered, "She does seem a bit ... extroverted." She sighed and added, "I'll keep my distance." She would keep her word no matter how she wished to know an old friend of Saul's. Get another's view of him. Another who was around when he was a child.

"She's just a little rough around the edges. Like all of us were, back home in the streets. You pretended to be strong and have lots of friends, so goon won't pick on you. I had it easy since the smarters goons prefered not to mess with a Bental. Not that their was justified, but I used it to keep myself safe."

Saul hesitated for a moment before he spoke again. "When I left home, to the stars... she stalked me to the spaceport. I didn't turn around to make sure that it was her, because, because... because I thought it would undermine my resolution to leave home. I haven't seen her since. She wanted to tell me that she knows I'll- ah, never mind, where were we?"

Nara tilted her head looking at him giving a sad smile. He was finally telling her more, but it was sad story. She reached her hands out to hug him, "It's ok."

Saul's fingers dug into Nara's hair. There was a long silence, which meant more to them than words.

Finally, Saul asked. "I suppose you're no longer into 'trying again', are you?"

Nara stood still a moment, her arms still around his shoulders. Then she backed a bit, "I don't know." Then she gave him a mischevious, but shy smile and wink, "We'll see how far your charm will go."

"Sounds tempting.", Saul caressed her cheek, and ordered the computer to dim the lights to 50 percent, and play a soft tune that Nara never heard in her life.

She smiled as she said, "Music and lights. Nice." She had a glint in her eye, "Anything else?"

"Do you have any special requests?"

She shook her head, "None come to mind." Her smile faded a bit as nervousnes filled her eyes.

Saul took a cautious step forwards, and gently pulled her toward him. His fingers began to form the most inexplicable patterns on her back, while lips left moist marks on her cheek, then her neck, and advancing downward...

She had her arms around his shoulders, gripping them as she concentrated on his scent, his touch, even his emotional presense she's learned to recognize. It wasn't the same as exploring someone's mind and she figured it was something non-telepaths had as well. Just the aura of a loved one. The sense you could trust them.

She concentrated on Saul to keep memories from haunting this moment. It wasn't too hard as Saul touched her far more gently than Marks had.

His hands now slipped under her shirt, their sudden chilly touch on her skin making her shudder at first, but within seconds she got used to it and it was the most natural thing in the whole universe. He began to shift slightly, and she realized he was leading her toward the bed, without breaking contact.

His lips touched hers briefly, and then he whispered into her ear. "I know what you're thinking about... the second you want to stop, say. And remember that you ARE safe, here."

She wispered back, "I know." But the way she nervously held him and the shake in her voice betrayed her. She knew it was just a wall to climb over. Her body wanted to, she just had to get her mind to follow along. She put a hand on the back of his neck and placed her lips on his for a passionate kiss.

He responded. With fire. And before Nara knew what was happenning, the two of them were rolling on the bed, drunk with passion. She could feel Saul's lust like a slow explosion, both in her mind and physically.

"I want you.", He said in a tone halfway between a whisper and a moan.

In the midst of it, in the place between reality and passion, her mind was empty of everything but him and what he did to her.

Somewhere in this realm of exquisite existence, the memory came to haunt. She could almost hear the birds that chirped outside the window at the Academy. It suddenly all felt like a nightmare.

"Please no." The plea was a soft wimper, as if not believing he would leave her be. He didn't before.

Saul froze. "Did I do something wrong?", He asked.

She was trembling, her eyes closed tightly, trapped in the memory a moment until his voice brought her to the present. She took a shaky breath and opened her eyes to look at him.

She just looked at him a moment before sighing, "No. Sorry." She didn't move away from him.

He kissed her on the nose, ever so lightly, then broke away from the embrace and paced through the door leading to the bathroom.

She sat up, hugging a sheet around herself and watched after him, concerned, "Saul?" She hugged her legs waiting for him to answer. She wondered why he left.

It took a long while before his voice emerged from behind the closed door. "Yes princess?"

When he finally answered, she called back, "Are you alright?"

Again that ominous pause. "Yes, of course."

The door slid open, and she saw that Saul washed his face, and now his hair was dripping water.

"I'm very sorry. I wanted to, but..." She sighed as she paused. Her body still very much wanted him, needed to feel his touch again. The memories of Mark still held her mind back. Anger grew in her face as she gripped the sheets tightly, "Curse him!"

"If you let him influence your life, then he won.", Saul said simply as he sprawled on the bed. Then, trying to lighten things up, he added, "You know, a guy can be quite offended if his girlfriend think of another man while the two of them are together..."

She shook her head still angry, "Life was better when that memory was repressed."

"You know, the girl in the other r-- ah, never mind."

Nara looked at him as she started to calm down, "Eve? What about her?"

Saul sighed. He shouldn't have brought it up, but he may as well finished. "She's dealing with a trauma that's as bad as yours right now. She's fighting it. So should you. Don't let HIM destory your life. If he succeeds in that, if he's still a relevant issue after all those years, then you let him win."

She felt a bit put off at his preaching, "I'm not her."

"True. And I don't claim to understand what you're going through, either. But you're letting him win. Don't."

She let her anger spill out toward him as she seethed at him, "If you could tell me HOW, I would appreciate it!"

He opened one eye. "Counselor Dallas can tell you that better than me. All I can ask, as someone who cares, is that you'll give it a fight."

She was infuriated at this point, "What do you think I just did! I'm trying Saul. I..." She let out a defeated sigh, "I don't know how to push the memories away. I think that's the furthest we got before..." She shook her head. "I really thought I was ok."

"Never mind.", Saul mumbled. It just got too complex for him. He was exahusted, and disappointed in more than one way. Arguing with Nara won't improve things, and will require too much energy.

"Do you want to spend the night here?", He asked.

She nodded, "If you want." She did, but she wasn't sure he would let her after she had pulled away so far into what they were doing.

"Good."

He snatched the blanket, and rolled away from Nara. leaving her just enough space to squeeze in.

Knowing Chava, she'll probably say something about 'being left in the living room like a pet dog.'. Too bad for her.

Nara lay back and thought forlonely for a few moments. She tossed the idea of snuggling to him back and forth in her mind. She wanted to feel the comfort of his arms around her, but feared his rejection. She wondered what the point of even staying was. Then she realized he hadn't left much blanket. Hoping it was a hint and not some childish way of showing he was upset about something, she moved closer to him, tense for a moment waiting how he would recieve her.

A moment later, both the blanket and Saul's arm were wrapped around her.

"Post Mortem"

Ensign Robert J. Mathieson
Lieutenant jg Jack Slen (NPC)

In Galaxy's main Sickbay, six white sheets covered six dead bodies. A seventh biobed bore the weight of a portly, bald, older doctor who was only too acutely feeling his age.

Despite the casualties and the relative inexperience of many of Galaxy's medical staff, Mathieson had to admit that they had performed well. Very well. The volume of wounded and the variety of injuries pressed them to the point of breaking, but not beyond. For hours, doctors, nurses and orderlies pressed that limit barrier. They bore the weight of every phaser wound, every disruptor wound - every injury caused by shrapnel, fist, knife or teeth. Bones were set, wounds sealed, limbs amputated, organs replaced - even a baby was delivered - amongst the most chaotic environment the old physician had seen in years. Still, the medical staff gad "gutted" it out, and of the one-hundred and forty-four patients sent to their ward, only six had died. Kio in particular had performed some of the most difficult work during some of the more hectic moments. ~Damn fine work, all said.~

Even with the unruly Kelvan, the ward has performed well. ~The Kelvan - that's not right~, Mathieson thought with a shudder. ~It's Chief Fekking Liason Kylar Bloody Curran.~ He snorted. ~Prickly pear like that in the Liason Corps? What's this bloody fleet comin' to?~

The doctor had no fear of Curran's many loud and creative threats, but had a sickly feeling when he thought of his incident with the Kelvan in Sickbay. He had to remember the Oath of Hippocrates more than once, tempted to apply a Klingon laxative to the patient; the effect would have been six months of boiling diarrhea which would have punctuated CL Curran's demeanor nicely. If course, Hippocrates never had a snotty, unruly Kelvan to treat - all he had were Greeks, Persians and the occasional Macedonian; what a picnic.

~That boy Curran'll be the death 'o me, I swear!~

Mathieson was dwelling on his meeting (and future meetings) with Galaxy's Chief Liason Officer when the door to Sickbay hissed open. He didn't bother to look up to see who had entered. "A'llo Jack! Ready to check if things 'r kosher?"

The tall Trill pathologist smiled at the prone doctor, but was quite prepared for Robert Mathieson - Jack Slen and Galaxy's newest medical officer had met before. "That's *Lieutenant Slen* to you, Ensign - and aren't you supposed to be saluting a superior officer?"

"Sorry Lieutenant Jack - where are me manners?" A stubby middle finger extended from Mathieson's left fist. "Glad to see you're still a fleet man, Jack. Was worried you'd be CMO of a Tellarite prostate clinic by now."

"Thought you'd be drummed out entirely, Bob. From Lieutenant Commander to Ensign in fifteen years, that's quite an accomplishment." Jack looked down Mathieson's prone figure. "Any career advice you'd like to offer?"

Bob poked an eye open and looked at an old friend and colleague. "Yeah - quit the amateur hour and stop crappin' on Admirals. If you *really* want to send yer prospects to hell in a handbasket, tell a politician to take his head out of his ass. That's when the *real* fireworks start."

Both physicians chuckled at the concept, and Mathieson slowly rose to a sitting position on the biobed. "Heh, good to see you again, Smilin' Jack."

Shaking the older man's hand , Jack continued to grin. "You too, you miserable old man. It'll be good to have someone around who's not so 'sunshine and rainbows' around here. But I *am* curious as to why you're here, Bob. Last I heard you were doing fine on the Anchorage."

"Was. Anchorage was a real good spot and Summers is a good bloke, but I had a chance to teach again at Starbase 13 - or at least I thought it was a chance." Mathieson cringed at the memory. "Cor, Jack - they put me pushin' paper for the 12th Fleet. Made me sick inside a week. Bloody paper-pushers. Vampires the lot of 'em. Ghouls! I'll spare you the details, but when a 'statesman' from Deneva comes to see how wonderful his colony's contributions are workin' for the welfare of Starfleet, take my advice and *don't tell him*!"

Slen's grin broke into laughter - the image of the short doctor yelling at some politician from behind a tall stock of PADDS was too rich. Recovering somewhat, he wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded. "Sage advice, my friend. I'll keep it in mind."

Mathieson too recovered from thoughts of his most recent demotion and reprimand. "See you do. Though, by the looks of it you could use all the career advice you can get. CMO to Pathologist in a year still beats my stellar fall from grace." Looking the tall doctor squarely in the face, he asked "What happened, Jack?"

As much as he tried, Slen couldn't look his friend in the eye. "Well, you know the kind of slip up where you apply the wrong remedy despite the right diagnosis and you have to work like hell to save the patient?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, this wasn't one of those slips." Slen rubbed the bridge of his nose awkwardly. "A patient died on my table. At my hands."

A deathlike silence blanketed Sickbay as the two doctors looked at the shroud covered bodies.

"At's shitty, Jack. I don' know what to say." Mathieson rubbed his bald bate near the back of his neck.

Slen slowly shook his head. "Nothing to say, Bob. Let's leave it for later over a drink at Ten Forward. Sound like a good idea?"

Nodding, Mathieson grinned. "Sure, as long as we're not drinking that pisswater you Harvard types were weaned on. I've got a nice 25 year old single-malt Dalwhinnie we should crack open and give a try."

"It's called Tennessee sipping bourbon, you old curmudgeon, and if I didn't know you were the product of some London slum school, I'd swear you were a Yale man!" Slen's lopsided grin returned, goaded by Mathieson's verbal prodding. Still, the business that brought him to Sickbay couldn't be avoided as the six shrouded figures bore a silent witness to their verbal sparring. "So, what do be have here Bob?"

Mathieson looked at the dead, suddenly sober in his thoughts. "Bad business, Jack. The worst."

OOC: This post puts us in orbit. I'll be posting again shortly to get people down to the planet. In the meantime, enjoy the view of the Imperial Capitol.

"Unforgiven"

by Frank Byrne

Captain Cassius Henderson, Commanding Officer

with... Ambassador Katsuye Takeda, Acting Federation Ambassador to the RSE Lieutenant
Tarin Iniara, Chief Operations Officer
Lieutenant Miramon Terrik, Chief Flight Controller

****

Main Bridge,
Deck 1,
USS Galaxy

"Six hours to arrival in orbit of ch'Rihan," Miramon Terrik stated for the benefit of the bridge crew. Now that they were inside the 26 hour mark, en-route to the capitol world of a major interstellar power, the CFC was responsible for giving an update on their position. Of course, it was largely a formality. Most of the crew were watching the clock with a nervousness that only the Rihannsu Star Empire could inspire.

"Thank you, Mr. Terrik," Cassius replied, as he had for the past twenty hours and three flight controllers. The waiting was the worst part. As they hurtled toward ch'Rihan at Warp 5, he couldn't help but remember the events leading up to the Battle of Havras, particularly the fake request to open normalized relations with the Breen Confederacy. Given the RSE's history of treachery and shaky governing coalitions, were they flying into a trap?

The current RSE government was, by all accounts, divided on the subject of their relationship with the Federation. Praetor Hitan had commanded a warbird alongside the Federation's 74th Battle Group during the Dominion War. After being installed as Praetor after the fall of Tal'Aura, Hitan became the most prominent Rihannsu voice for the continuing alliance with the UFP. The Praetor was the head of the government, and as such had been instrumental in preventing

His opposite number, Proconsul Lhaerrh Omar, could not have been more different in his view. Omar was a former officer of the Tal Shiar, and the years of fighting in the never ending shadow war against SFI translated into isolationist foreign policy and rabidly anti-Federation stances on foreign policy questions. As head of the famous Rihannsu Senate, Omar had produced dozens of resolutions and legislations designed to damage the Star Empire's relationship with the Federation, often bringing him into conflict with Praetor Hitan.

Making things more complicated, Empress Kaidalin t'Vriesu went back and forth between supporting one and then the other. Because her own position carried little formal power beyond appointing the Praetor and Proconsul, political theorists posited that her own positions remained hidden in favor of keeping Hitan and Omar at each other's throats.

Between fielding calls from the Starfleet Foreign Affairs Office and keeping up with Ella Grey's progress in hunting down all of O'Shea's sabotage attempts, he would be grateful to arrive at ch'Rihan and begin feeling useful again.

"Captain, we're receiving a mail packet from the Federation Embassy in Ki Baratan, courtesy of Ambassador Takeda," Lieutenant Tarin reported. The normal seat at the operations console had been put into storage, replaced by Tarin's hoverchair. Cassius watched her work with no small amount of concern. According to Doctor Burton, her inability to walk was psychosomatic - and thus far more difficult to treat than any physical condition. Even two thousand years after the advent of psychology as a science, and the mind was still a mystery to the peoples of the Federation.

"What're the contents?" he asked.

"The first item is a pamphlet on basic Rihannsu law, to be distributed to the crew, with a notation that they'll be tested by Rihannsu foreign service officials before they're allowed on the surface," Tarin read aloud. "The second is a request from Ambassador Takeda for a conference call."

"Hmmm..." Cassius thought for a moment. "Number One, you have bridge. Tarin, I'll take it in my Ready Room. Distribute the pamphlet and notice to the crew. If the Rihannsu are willing to allow us to the surface, we owe it to them to respect their laws."

"Aye, Sir," Iniara responded as he vacated his seat in favor of Commander Kol.

****

Captain's Ready Room,
Deck 1,
USS Galaxy

[Turn your holonet to any one of the Rihannsu News Channels and you'll see what I'm talking about, Captain.]

The image gracing Captain Henderson's monitor screen was that of Ambassador Katsuye Takeda, the tiny Japanese woman currently acting as envoy to the RSE for the duration of Ambassador Spock's lengthy absence on Vulcan. Takeda was standing on the balcony of her apartment at the peak of the Federation Embassy in Ki Baratan, looking out over the shadowed cityscape.

Cassius irritably punched in a few commands and watched as the screen split, with Takeda on the left and a new window on the right, connecting with his favorite (and most reliably truthful) Rihannsu news source.

[... Hannam Tafv, reporting from the Mhr'vaat District of Ki Baratan. Anti-Federation protests, which in the past month had died to a dull roar, are intensifying in the home district of Proconsul Lhaerrh Omar," one of the station's field reporters shouted into the camera, over the din of what was approaching a full blown riot. "Carrying images of the Proconsul's murdered son, the protestors are calling for suspension of all relations with the Federation government. Proconsul Omar, when asked to comment...]

Cassius switched it off, and returned Takeda to full screen. "I see what you mean," he said, his frown beginning to feel etched into his face. His sister, Elisa, would no doubt tease him about stress lines next time they talked. "Are you safe, Ambassador?"

[For now, I think so,] she replied, peering over the balcony. [If you thought that crowd in Mhr'vaat was bad, you should look outside my front door. The embassy is continually being surrounded, but the Uhlans have been diligent in keeping a safe passage out of the building. Praetor Hitan's hand, I suspect.]

"You know the situation better than I do," Cassius asked, "Would you advise me to keep my people onboard?"

[If this were any other time, I would say yes,] the Ambassador shook her head. [We cannot let Omar's cronies and rabble rousers intimidate us. Not with Praetor Hitan counting on us for a good showing at the funeral.]

"Of course," Cassius nodded, then paused to think. There was something more going on that he couldn't quite grasp. "Ambassador, what game are the Rihannsu playing, asking my staff to appear at the funeral of the man who died on their ship?"

The small Japanese woman laughed. [Welcome to samurai theatre, Captain. The Rihannsu live in a more or less feudal society, where often the role of noble men is to be caught between their lords. In this case, you are the pawn of both the vengeful Proconsul and the calculating Praetor. Omar invited you to the funeral of his son because he believes that you will humiliate the Federation in a highly public setting. Hitan allowed you to come because he believes that you won't.]

"I see," Cassius frowned, and not for the first time cursed the Rihannsu leaders. He was normally a proponent of politics as means to achieving solutions and justice, but the way that the Rihannsu did it had bothered him since he was a student at the Academy. There just weren't any ethics in it. "What would you do in my position?"

[I would hold my head high, and speak with the authority of the representative of the Federation. You and your liaison officer need to sit down and talk about how you want to frame this,] Takeda said, wrapping her cloak tighter against the night air of Ki Baratan. [You've entered the game late, Captain, but not too late to give it your own spin. Talk to Legate Curran. He can help you. And meet with me when you get here. There are several things that we need to talk about in a place more secure than this.]

"I'll take that under consideration, Ambassador," Cassius replied, glancing back at the door. It had been several hours since he'd gotten her message. "I'll have to get back to my crew, now. We arrive in around four hours. Can I expect to see you?"

[Yes, Captain. You'll be arriving in the dead of night here, but I'll be awake,] Katsuye bowed. [Sayonara, Taisa Henderson.]

The channel was quickly replaced by the seal of the United Federation of Planets Foreign Service.

Cassius rubbed his neck. They weren't even in orbit yet.

****

Main Bridge,
Deck 1,
USS Galaxy

"We are now in stationkeeping orbit over the Federation Embassy, Captain Henderson," Lieutenant Terrik reported as the great bird eased to a halt. After a week of transit, they had finally arrived in orbit of ch'Rihan.

"Open a shipwide channel, Tarin," Cassius said, eyes locked on the so called Planet of Secrets. The next few days would make or break several careers on both sides of the recently demilitarized Federation/Rihannsu border. He wondered if his would be one of them, and at what cost his success or failure would come. There were, as was normal when dealing with the Rihanha, all too many questions.

"Done."

"This is Captain Henderson speaking," he stated, as was becoming his custom. "We've entered orbit over Ki Baratan, the capitol city of the Rihannsu Star Empire. In the likely event that we are invited to travel to the surface in the days before the state funeral of Ambassador Omar, you will all be administered a Rihannsu law test by state officials. A brief has been distributed to your messages, for your use in brushing up. Remember that we are the guests of the Praetor, and we have to behave as such."

"We are the first starship to be invited to ch'Rihan since the USS Titan in 2379. The eyes of two great nations are upon us. We will open them to who we are, and what we do. What those two things are is up to you."

"As soon as I receive details from the Rihannsu government, I'll pass them on to you. Henderson clear."

And there they were, in orbit.

Sitting for the moment, but at least they were there.

"Leopards and Their Spots"

Ensign Robert Mathieson

==Sickbay, USS Galaxy==

"This is Captain Henderson speaking. We've entered orbit over Ki Baratan, the capitol city of the Rihannsu Star Empire. In the likely event that we are invited to travel to the surface in the days before the state funeral of Ambassador Omar, you will all be administered a Rihannsu law test by state officials. A brief has been distributed to your messages, for your use in brushing up. Remember that we are the guests of the Praetor, and we have to behave as such."

"We are the first starship to be invited to ch'Rihan since the USS Titan in 2379. The eyes of two great nations are upon us. We will open them to who we are, and what we do. What those two things are is up to you."

"As soon as I receive details from the Rihannsu government, I'll pass them on to you. Henderson clear."

**

Robert Mathieson grunted as he reviewed treatment techniques for Romulan disruptor fire; not wishing to perform the treatment but wanting to be prepared for any possible scenario. ~And they're ROMULANS. We're orbiting fekking ROMULUS.~ The politically correct wave currently sweeping the Federation 'requested' that Starfleet personnel refer to the Romulans with the names they call themselves, but Mathieson couldn't bring himself to do it. He was an old dog unaccustomed, and unwilling, to learn new tricks. And Romulans were as tricky as they come.

~Goin' to Romulus with a green Captain. This place's going to be busy soon.~ Looking at the vacant biobeds, he reflected on the only-too recent events with the Jem'Hadar. As bad as the experience was, it pointed out some weaknesses and some strengths. Mathieson thanked Hippocrates himself that Kimberly Burton, Galaxy's CMO, was willing to listen to what he had to say and put into effect those recommendations. ~And she did all the administrative crap behind it too, bless 'er.~ The short Englishman now had opportunity to prepare for what casualties might come, and his experiences on the Centaur, Cheyenne and Anchorage gave him a good idea what might be dealt with.

In addition to disruptor tissue damage, Mathieson reviewed a number of biological and synthetic toxins the Romulans were known to use in the past, as well as those of various former Romulan allies. Feeling edgy about a possible set up, he reviewed the various weapons and methods of assassination used by the current set of anti-Federation antagonists - the Breen, the Hydrans, and the T'Kith'Kin.

~The Romulans were wound up tighter than a cheap watch at the moment - any one of these jokers could easily prod the 'em into a pissin' match with the Federation~, he thought. ~Mus' keep the new Captain awake at nights - thank God I've only got to deal with th' wounded."

Compiling the readouts to a master file, Mathieson downloaded the information for his next presentation to the medical staff. Lieutenant Burton - no, Doctor Burton - had given him the opportunity to teach once more and he seized the chance with gusto. In addition to the department, he also corralled some of the medics from the marine battalion into attending. He also put forward a proposal to upgrade the first-aid training of the entire crew, but the proposal was at the usual logjam at senior-officer level; still, the idea had merit, and would bear fruit if given the right conditions.

Finishing, the short physician stood and stretched his spine with an audible 'krick'. He walked over to Sickbay's viewing window and took a long look at the planet below. Oceans, seas and large lakes riddled the various land masses, making the alien world a blue pearl similar to Mathieson's homeworld, earth. He reflected on his experiences with this planet's people, and assured himself that he didn't have anything against Romulans per se, just *ambitious* Romulans, and unfortunately the planet below seemed to birth more than its fair share. Given the political turmoil that boiled on the surface, he wondered how the planet could project such a beautiful, peaceful - even serene veneer.

~But the, the Romulans 've always been about what's seen and what's not~, he reminded himself.

Turning from the window, he looked at the empty biobeds and the calm the vacant Sickbay provided - and wondered just how long the peace would last.

“Abandoned? Part 3”

By Commander James Lionel Corgan
And Mika Sh'Sonora

Location: USS Galaxy

Soundtrack: “November Has Come” By The Gorillaz

Mika was having one of those foul days.

She always had her doubts about the relationship she harboured with one James Lionel Corgan, but never before had she let her imagination run rampant about the very idea, until it manifested itself into a soul sucking, multi tendrilled monster that hooked into her heart and her other special places. It came from Japan, not that it mattered.

It was in such instances, when you erode the good schoolteacher Mika's self control (in which she had developed through years of martial arts induced training, trial by scholarly means and the fire pits that were politics) through such events as being torn from the top echelons of the diplomatic corp, the humbling experiences of serving fast food then serving bratty and disinterested 24th century children in the ways of education, and the constant seesaw emotions that were mostly due to her biological heritage (Andorians were a quick tempered species), even Mika's discipline was showing multiple cracks. The once powerful and loving woman was about to lose it, though she didn't even know it.

All it would take was one final push, and it could be delivered anywhere.

****** Deck 23 ******

“Father!” Scolded the eldest daughter of Banra, holding high an ebony phaser over her father's head as her high howling protest rendered itself into his ears. “What is the meaning of this?”

The other Jem'Hadar in the cargo bay made temporary shelter were watching the drama unfold; some of the older warriors were snickering that such a whelp was holding so much power over her father, a fellow fighter and veteran of the wars. The father, knowing too well his shame, sat on his cot and endured it with stoic pride. More still were the womenfolk, peasantish women with gray skin and small spines protruding from the jawline, looking down judgmentally at the disgraced fighter. The lines were dividing; the men versus the women, the peaceful versus the warlike, the young who knew not war and the old that knew it too well (and even hungered for it).

Banra looked up at his daughter, speaking as if pained, “It is a trophy, nothing more.”

“It is a Mitsubishi Heavy Industries Federation Type IIe phaser pistol in the Capadona pattern!” She blitzkrieged her father with that fact, proving to Banra that his daughter was educated well in the Jem'Hadar's war biased education system (much to his duress). What he didn't like was the Jem'Hadar's war biased education being used against him as mounting evidence of any wrongdoings. Heedless of Banra's pleading eyes, his daughter continued, “And it is a customized phaser at that! Look at the underside picatinny rail, the gyroscopic phaser crystal stabilization units, the matte black finish, the gold electroplated inlays...” She stroked the weapon lovingly, “...the refined settings, the auto phase modulation cycler... the... power...”

Banra looked awkwardly at his daughter. Normally, he would have been proud of her for becoming a woman at such a young age... but now was not the time. “Yes, Tesli?”

Tesli straightened up sheepishly, ceasing to stroke the phaser pistol in her hand. “It is an excellent weapon, father.”

“That it is.” Banra grunted. “Give it back.”

“NO!” Tesli straightened up, recoiling away from her father, “This is someone else's weapon, and you have wrongfully taken it! What next, should I tell them about your role in the rebellions!?”

“Don't you dare!” Banra bellowed, “I turned my back on those bastards! This is a rightful trophy! Give it back!”

“Never!” Like the teenager she was, Tesli snarled and b*tched with such strength as to repulse her cowed father. “This weapon will only get us in trouble! I am returning it right this instant!”

As promised, Tesli did storm out. When she presented the phaser to the security guards outside the camp, they were at first fearful, but upon seeing the stamping on the phaser, their alarm soon turned into a hunt. Tesli, though well educated by the standards of the Jem'Hadar and the standards of most Federation armory officers, still had not known how to read Federation standard, or it's subordinate languages, lower Vulcan and terran English.

In gold, the phaser read, “James Lionel Corgan, CMDR.”

****** Deck 10 ******

The turbolift was slower than usual today, or it was Mika inventing more excuses to be angry. Try as she could, she couldn't find enough reasons to get angrier at James. He was open for many skeletons, but not a hateful person. She wanted him badly, needed his company, hated that he was never there, never an Andorian, never female (why the hell not?), never any excuse to rouse her anger. But try though she could, it never came.

~”What is wrong with me?”~ Mika thought glumly, ~”Am I trying to find an excuse to leave? I love him, and I love what I do here, but why do I want to find an excuse to throw it all out?”~ She thought longly, remembering her past glories, hard won after being nearly enslaved by a prattish fat aristocrat named Ordos during her stint as an Ambassador's assistant. There were times of great diplomacy, decadence, and luck. She was something in those days, holding with her power to change foreign policy, guide and direct the actions of planetary superpowers, using the smallest moves to make the greatest gains. She was in a position to surpass her father, one of the biggest capitalists and grain merchants on Andoria, a vindicating act for the years she was treated as the unknown daughter, passed up by her socialite slut of a sister...

~”Oh. That's why.”~ Mika sighed to herself, defeated, yet still not angry enough to leave a James sized indentation on the ship's hull. She felt so strongly for both to be with him and to be away with him. But even with Tekri, and a growing dissatisfaction mounting in her, there was not enough.

“Maybe that is love.” Mika sighed again.

The turbolift swished open at Deck 23. In stepped two of James own security staff (it helped her blood simmer, but not boil over yet), followed by a very young peasant girl. Mika wasn't too familiar with the Jem'Hadar, but knew what one looked like, but even then she was surprised to see a Jem'Hadar female. Her features were softer than the males, her skin less cobblestone and paler, her spines less pronounced, but the curvature of a woman was still there. This young one was less aware of herself than Mika could be; she acted as if her sexuality was as invisible as the air, a way of flaunting it without actually flaunting it. Her peasant dress stuck out in all the jealous places Mika's simple black and purple dress didn't, and the security guards noticed.

It was the kind of woman James Corgan would like. Young, defenseless, nubile, and with big doe eyes to go with her barely hidden buxomness.

Mika's rationality saved her today. There was no way to see a connection between James and this colony born peasant girl.

“Hey Mika.” One of the security guards greeted.

“Hi Ensign So'ka. Hi Ensign Hanley.” Mika said, deflated.

“Just call me Paul.” Ensign Hanley nodded warmly.

“Paul.” She said sourly, though she had no reason to be cross with the security officer. Mika liked Paul Hanley and his friend So'ka, an alien officer whom she had no clue what he was (nobody did on the ship, but he did have strange bumps on his nose...). Admonishing herself for being so hostile, she tried to smile all but insincerely, “And whom might this be?”

The girl spoke a strange, country born accent. It made Hanley and So'ka shift uncomfortably with each other. “I am Tesli, madam.” The Jem'Hadar youngling said to her with a youngling's voice, soft and full of joy, face to torpedo like chest, bowing to give the impression of respect.

Mika gave none; she stood still and continued to hate the teenager. ~”Was I ever like that little Orion bar whore?”~ She thought, speaking oppositely, “And I am Mika Sh'Sonora. I am one of the teachers onboard. How are you doing today?”

“Not so well.” Tesli said with heart weeping sadness. So'ka and Paul shifted again, leaving Mika to think that men were idiots for believing her sob story, “I had an argument with my father. He tried to keep something from it's rightful owner. And to think, I though we abandoned our martial traditions in favour of a more peaceful agrarian life! How my father clings to his old ways like the miserable old sot that he is...”

“Hey Mika.” Hanley said to her, nudging So'ka in the shoulder, “Maybe you can take care of it.”

She asked, “Of what, exactly?”

It was the peasant girl that spoke up, “I am looking for a... James Lionel Corgan.”

Mika's antennae sprang up. Her hand quivered, but failed to deliver a near fatal slap to the face.

The peasant girl, oblivious to what was going on around her, continued, “My father took this phaser as a trophy. I took it away because I think he will do harm with it. Besides, I saw the man whom this belongs to.”

Mika's antennae didn't twitch at all this time. They sprang, “Where?”

“At Kappel Valley settlement. My home.” She said, “I was there for harvest and we were celebrating, and this handsome federation officer walks into our village with two beautiful females. I think was was emotionally invested in him but... she barely made a face.”

~”T'lan.”~ Mika seethed.

The peasant orated on dreamily, “He was so handsome and brave to come to us! And such hair, like Rigellian flax cured by the sun! I wanted to speak to him, but my father and his thugs decided to take him away. But I did be merciful, I dear I did! While he was unconscious, I tended to his wounds. It was then my father took his weapon and kept it to himself! Oh dear, I did not expect him to smuggle it onboard. I swear! So I am turning it in. Madam... do you know this man?”

“Not anymore...” She grumbled under grinding teeth.

“Huh?” She innocently peeped.

“Oh!” Mika about faced, smiling radiantly, “I do. He is my mate. I...” She said as if trying to tractor beam a asteroid out of a black hole, “...love him very much.”

“Good! He deserves a loving person like you!” She squealed excitedly, spinning about on her toes like a swooning fool, “Then you can help me! Please, give this Commander Corgan his sidearm back. It didn't have a power pack, so I doubted my dolt of a father could have done anything. Do try to do this, please?”

The girl presented to Mika, in both of her pale gray hands and with a perky bounce that brought So'ka and Hanley secretly to attention, the phaser. James Corgan's customized sidearm, black as night and shining like a mythical sword.

“Ummmm... thank you.” Mika squeaked helplessly, taking the gun in both hands.

“You're welcome!” Tesli jumped up, to which Paul and So'ka about faced away from her with a flush to their cheeks, “I hope all will be well with him. And if you meet him... tell him that I am sorry for what my people have done to him, and that if things were different, I would hope that we would get along sooooo well.” The turbolift halted, and the young Jem'Hadar peasant girl giggled affectionately. She left fastly, a prance to her feet, So'ka and Hanley after he heels like lovestruck hunting hounds.

Mika's fist, enclosed on the phaser's grip, was shaking with rage.

“James...” Mika said to herself as she exited the turbolift, “One more excuse... just one... and the phaser you spent more time with than me will go straight up your...”

Mika froze like a panicked deer. James Corgan, unaware that she was around, was in front of her, watching Tesli saunter past.

“Hmmmm...” James said, as if pondering one of the great mysteries of the universe, “What's Hanley and So'ka doing chasing that piece of Jem'Hadar a...”

James Lionel Corgan didn't see it coming. Neither did Mika. What she did was instinctual, like the disciplinary slap upside the head amplified. But whatever she was thinking, it took a few seconds longer to catch up to her than the reaction she pulled next. Winding up like a pro baseball pitcher, Mika threw the phaser at her former beloved. The gleaming black metal weapon spun and gyrated in the air, deadly in its purpose if not its design.

What James knew was that he heard a whistling sound, followed by a blow from what could have been a Naussican weightlifter, driving the wind out of him and cracking his ribs. He doubled over, his eyes watering with pain, and he huddled into a fetal position. He looked up, and Mika was staring down him, bluer in the face with pure rage.

“Mika...” Jame wheezed, “What... the... F**K!?!?!”

“Abandoned? Part 4”

By Commander James Lionel Corgan
And Mika Sh'Sonora

Location: USS Galaxy

Was it all over a piece of ass?

James Lionel Corgan hadn't much time to ponder the question, or ask himself why he was doubled over on the floor, clutching his ribs as if it was the difference between living and dying. Since he had developed a respect for the person who threw the object at him, a woman who barehandedly bested three klingon warriors in a bar on Lan'Jep during their first meeting, he was hardly in a position to use his power and authority against her.

“What... the... F**K?!?!?!” James repeated himself, more snarly than ever.

Mika snapped at him, her finger wagging accusingly at his face from up above, “You never treat me properly! You are always looking at other women, always paying more attention to them! T'lan! Tekri! That peasant trollip! Your stupid phaser! I come from a polygamous society, and even I know what adultery is! How dare you! Iwillkillyouandtearyourheadoffandshoveitintothewastedisposalunit! GAH!”

James weakly got up as she tiraded him to the rest of his death. He was just as perplexed as the next guy, and didn't mean to hurt Mika in any way, but he was not sure about what to do next.

“What did I do?” James asked, so quintessentially male.

“What did you do?” Mika snarled, “What did you do?!?! You are a hormone addled, penile deficient, lying, cheating fek'adoon dear James!” She snapped, reverting to her native Andorian long enough to scream about himself and dark matter being placed in uncomfortable places (though James counted the blessing of not knowing Andorian). “You are the worst of men! You treat others so highly, and you leave me alone? You take me for granted. You give me no attention. You gave that phaser more attention than me! You give Tekri and your bastard daughter more attention than me! You gave that Jem'Hadar teen's ass more attention than me.”

“But...” James sputtered, “...I...”

“James...” Mika suddenly turned chillingly calm, “...I have to do this. I am sorry to tell you, but I think our relationship is....”

James Corgan's comm-badge decided to beep, interrupting Mika. =/\=Commander James Lionel Corgan. This is the ch'Rihan Central Medical Complex.=/\=

“Damn and bugger.” Mika hissed in Andorian.

Cautiously watching Mika, he slowly activated the badge. “Corgan here.”

A bored Romulan administrator droned over the comm channel, =/\=We have called to inform you that the birth of Nuhir t'Stellam Tekri has begun. As the biological father, you have been asked to attend.=/\=

"Sh*t!" James hissed, "It started! I'll be there soon. Over and out!"

To that, James dropped all his arguments, and like a total full running retreat, left his emotionally charged battle with Mika.

It was becoming a very high pitched fight, with Mika showing a temper so characteristic of her Andorian heritage, yet so unlike her collected self. All in all, it left James unprepared; he didn't know what he could do to diffuse the situation short of admitting he was wrong (and even that may not have worked). Trying to explain himself would have been useless, it was almost as if there was no win win scenario. Mika in all her blue blooded ferocity had within her hands a total route, knew so, and was not afraid to devastate James with a blistering barrage of insults, cajoling and accusations until either he was a sootstain on the carpet, or until she was tired.

Then came the announcement, inflammatory, but his only escape.

Atole Tekri was about to give birth to his child. A child he didn't plan (she was a product of artificial implantation, a failed attempt to draw him back into their once steamy, but now quite dead, relationship), and most certainly wasn't prepared for. It was one of many points of contention between Mika and James, and like the others one James felt helpless to control or console.

Still, he had to thank god for small blessings, even if it was another dangerous potent.

The message also had the after effect of shutting Mika into a stunned silence, and between them both it was as if their quarrels didn't matter, their fight an insigificant piece of an already expanding and important big picture.

But as with such heated exchanges, it wasn't so easy to forget.

"Go." Mika snapped, her tiny palm quivering in a poorly contained fist, "Just go. She needs you."

James knew he HAD to go. It was his child, but yet he couldn't leave. He saw Mika in the throes of anger, her body near shaking with rage. He did want to run off, to go see Atole giving birth to Nuhir, but watching his love torn with anguish made him stay put. She was beyond any anger James ever felt, but like her body her spirit was shaking apart. When her personal shielding waivered, a hiccup would escape her mouth, or a slight glistening wetness from her eyes.

~"My god..."~ James thought to himself empathatically, ~"...she doesn't want me to leave. Her anger is keeping her from falling apart. If I go now, she won't get angry at me and leave. She'll be heartbroken."~

James took a step forward. Mika immediately bristled, took a step back, and shot an arm out in front of her to ward him off. Not wanting to antagonize her further, James took his steps forward slowly, and as he came close she would step away, her wraith subsiding as her shields quivered and quaked. She was close to being at tears, needing one more step.

But Corgan didn't want to bring more sadness to her. He stopped, and looked deeply to her. "I really want you to be there for me. This is my first child, and i'm scared sh*tless. Please, I need you."

"No!" Mika stared at the floor and away from James, scrunching her arms in a tight knot and looking down to avoid showing her tears, "I... can't take it, James." Wracked with hiccups, she tried hard to choke out the words with her peculiar aristocratic air, but failed as it turned to her squeaky, tiny Southern Andorian accent, "...There are so many that rely on you, and that child and Atole is the final piece that collapsed the rubble pile. Because of all your commitments, I am pushed away. There is no time for me with you. Too many people have your love, or a piece of... your heart, as you humans say. Why do I feel like I have so little? Why will you not share more of yourself with me?"

"Mika..." James explained, confused and bewildered, "What more can I do? I love you. I thought that was established."

"That is not enough." Mika quailed, "We love each other, but we are not together. You won't let me be a part of your life. You won't let me know what your heart loves, and loved before. You stay so... quiet, like a stone in a pond. You won't tell me anything about before, and I have to learn that from what... rumour? Anecdotes? Your journals? Why can you not come to me? I want to share in all that you are, good and bad. Why will you not let me?"

Frustrated, James blurted out, "Well... I didn't mean to give you the impression that i'm setting you aside. And I sure didn't want to upset you. Why would I talk about my previous relationships and where I stand on them now? I'm sorry if I think it's more awkward to talk about it, but I didn't want to you to be unhappy..." He let he words trail off, "...but I did it anyways by not saying a thing, didn't I?"

Mika slowly looked up at James. Her face was streaked with tears, turning her turquoise skin darker. Her eyes were softened in colour but bloodshot blue, and her snow white eyebrows arched as her antennae sagged, downcast.

James croaked, his voice soft and lilting, "I'm... scared of what you'll think when I tell you everything. I don't want you to hate me or leave me because of all that, and I don't want you to feel sorry for me or sad for me because of it. You know how far i'd go to make you happy, Mika."

She nodded her head, and sniffled, "You are treating me like the Queen of Andoria again. Tell me the good and the bad so that I may love you."

James said, "Are you sure? There is alot of stuff that i'm not proud of."

"I do not mind."

"And I must say, my war experiences weren't pleasant, and frankly, I was an asshole for most of that time, even when I first meet you."

"I do not mind."

"And I have had lovers in the past, a few I have cared deeply about, almost to the point of marrying them."

"And I already told you." Mika cracked a sad smile, "I do not mind. Do you know what I do mind?"

James grinned, "Me making an ass of myself?"

Mika giggled, keeping back the tears with a sniff, "That as well. But where I am from, our people are supposed to be close. Every trial and pain, but every joy must be experienced together. We think and feel strongly, so when we are shut out by our mate... how are we supposed to feel?"

"Neglected, I suppose." James replied.

"Exactly." She spoke softly, "Let me in, let me share, and let me know I am first in your... heart. That is what you humans help use to describe love, yes?"

"Yes." James answered, "And don't worry. Your first in my heart."

"How do I know?" Mika snapped, almost accusingly.

"Well..." James had to think, it was a tough question and it felt loaded, "...I did love Atole once. But it never worked. She choose her assassination job over me. She regretted it, but it was too late. I'm sticking to that. And yes, I loved her then. But she can't be what I loved before anymore, she made that choice. So if she was first in my heart... I would have left you in the hall."

She stumbled closer to James, "Why did you not do so?"

He walked closer, but more cautiously. Mika was still shaken and he didn't want to alarm her further. "Atole has people that are there for her. Her family, friends, her child even. I do want to be there, but mostly to see Nuhir be born, and wish Atole and Nuhir both well before I leave them. I want to be there for my child because I can't be there for her life. For the moment, Atole will be fine. Nuhir will be fine. They're not going anywhere, and anything I can do her family can do it ten times better. Right now, you need me even more, and nobody but me can do it, and if I don't i'll lose you forever."

James looked at her eyes deeply, "And you know I can't stand that. I need you more than you know."

Mika scoffed, "You are a silly romantic."

James replied, "I like being a silly romantic. If I sound like a bleeding idiot trying to get across how much I love you, then i'll just have to sound like a bleeding idiot."

Mika said, "You are a... bleeding idiot sometimes."

James shrugged, "That's another reason why I need you."

"Hmh." She swallowed a weak, crying laugh. Though much too late to notice, James and Mika were already together in an embrace, her face nestled into his chest while his arms were cradled around her shoulders. She had her arms locked over his ribs and her hands twined behind his back; a woman of her will wouldn't let go without the help of a starship's tractor beam. It hurt his ribs where Mika threw his customized phaser pistol at him, but at that point James was preoccupied with more important matters to raise a point.

"I'm sorry, baby." James stroked her hair, "I'll spend more time with you, I promise. I'll tell you everything, after Nuhir is born. Ok?"

James felt Mika's head nod on his chest. "Not now, though."

"I'm afraid so." James and Mika adjusted themselves. Walking arm in arm, cradled even though they were moving, were still close so they would not let go, "Between this and Nuhir, this is a little overwhelming. It won't be easy to get used to."

"You will be fine." Mika smiled wanly up at him, "You are a good man. I am sorry about hurting you."

"It's ok." James gave Mika a final, affectionate stroke of her hair, "I understand."

"Putting Two and Two Together Part I"

Ensign Zev Raynor
Terran Telepath Intelligence Officer

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief Tactical Officer

A dark plain room with a table, two chairs, and a monitor.

Zev sighed rubbing his temples... why Starfleet Command had called him in to do this particular job. He was sitting in a very plain room reading up on his next 'victim', as well as the report he gave on his last mission along with several other candiates. He was also looking at a two medical reports (before and after) and three pyschological reports (before, after, during). Something didn't add up just right. But Raynor also knew the Bental name, so it could of easily been something to do with that end of things. Being born as a Ronin, he knew many things about that world. But there was going to have to be a little bit of an interview.

Ironic how that Raynor was selected for that mission by Captain Henderson, but at the last minute due to his own acting out his mask way too far, he got kicked out. I might of been on the other side of that table.

So here Raynor was armed to the teeth, reading reports about what happened on Vaden and wondering what would of happened had he been there. He called Saul in.

The door sled open, flooding the room with sudden bright light. A man and a woman stood at the entrance, glancing uncertain at each other.

"Stay here.", Saul told Chava, and rubbed her shoulder. The blue-skinned woman seemed rather bored. She took a seat just outside Raynor's view, and he could see her holding some paper book. Saul watched her for a moment, then entered the room.

"Shalom.", He greeted Raynor. The entire situation seemed surreal for the ex-Intelligence officer turned Tactical Chief. He knew the room, of course, and felt more at home in the corridors of the Intel CIC than in the Tactical offices. On his way in, he managed to say hi to half the department, much to the dismay of the security ensign that escorted him.

"I don't think we've ever been properly introduced" Raynor said, "My name is Ensign Zev Raynor..." he held out his hand. He was unusually cheerful given the setting of the room. His telepathy detected the woman Saul had spoke to a moment before. But he didn't bother looking in that direction yet.

Saul shook Zev's hand. "Saul Bental. I left intel shortly before you arrived to the Galaxy. I'm sure my legacy lives on. So how may I help?"

Raynor rubbed his right temple for effect,"Well I've been going over the reports from the Vaden Mission... but its alot of reading to take in all at once so I was wondering if you could recap the events yourself... I find it sometimes helps to have conversations over what happened rather than reading these reports," he said still cheerful.

"Oh and if your wondering about my clearance level..." he entered in a couple of commands. "Don't worry about it." He said turning the monitior around just for a few seconds and let the effect sink in.

Saul knew that there will be a more intense debriefing beyond his and Miramon's visit to the Captain's ready room. It was strange that of all the officers in Intel, the one who was disqualified from the mission just before it began was the one to debrief them.

Then again, Raynor had no reason to be jealous, given what they went through during the last month.

Saul began recounting the progress of the mission. He briefly summarized their approach route, including the short stop at the gryphon coalition. "By the time we left the coalition, we were told by the contact that all the crew of the Backbroken's reward were captured by the contact's people.", Saul concluded that part.

Raynor nodded not saying anything... just looking for basic flaws in the story but finding none. Also looking at the way he told the story rather more so than looking at the events themselves too closely. The conversation was being recorded in more ways than one. He simply needed to direct the line of conversation

Saul scratched his chin, trying to recall what happened next, then unfolded the events taking place directly after they reached Vaden. He told Raynor of how he and Miramon sold the replicators and the robotic spare parts to the Yridian merchant. A broad grin crossed his face when he threw in the punchline - that there were nano-microphones hidden in the replicators, and nano-passive tracers implanted in the robotic parts.

"Later on, we used both to follow a lead toward an area on Vaden callsigned 'Olor 50, but that'll come in a moment," Saul stated.

Raynor nodded again. He seemed to be deep in thought taking all this information in. His smile was gone replaced with more of a brooding glare... he felt something was off but he couldn't quite but his finger on it.

Then, somewhat more reluctant than before, Saul reached the part where he and Miramon penetrated the local chamber of commerce. Saul pretended to be a merchant who wanted to sell ores to the Hydran government, which held a monopoly over such commodities in Vaden, while Miramon strolled through the chamber offices and spread nano-bugs.

"He ran into a Hydran, and decided that the best course of action would be to eliminate him.", Saul sighed. "The moment I heard the alarm, I scramed - with the other merchants - and waited to Miramon in a pre-designated randez-vous point. I think it's only fair that I'll let you hear Miramon's version of the story, but... I suppose things could've gone in a different way."

Saul did not intend to give his exact opinion on his friend's course of action, though he thought it was plain wrong. He was a strong beliver in 'keeping dirty laundry inside the house', and it's not like the conclusions from Miramon's alleged mistake will alter the way field agents are trained for ever and ever.

"So there were several points in time when you were seperated from the rest of the team?" Raynor asked in a sort of non-descript way.

"Three times. The first was on the Chamber of Commerce. The second was when me and Miramon penetrated the Olor 50 facility. The third is when we searched for Counselor Elessidil. Chief Jayce told us to go alone so that we'll cover more ground, since we needed to get out ASAP and the counselor has not yet returned."

"Can you describe what happened to you during those three times... exactly as they happened?" Raynor asked. His face was still emotionless, but not cold... just not hot. More like bored, yet his words did not match his face so it was become impossiblity hard to read him.

"Of course. I already told you about the first time - I was surrounded by the merchants, and when things went nasty I just exited the chamber and waited for Miramon several streets away. At the second time... the leads we had from the Chamber of Commerce and the military robotic parts both led us to a hidden installation in the desert just outside the city. I told Miramon to remain on a ridge, then penetrated the installation. It turned out to be a major R&D center. I collected as much evidence as I could - I'm not totally sure if your clearance allows me to give you full description, sorry - and then sneaked into a shuttle that was just departing toward the city."

Raynor didn't mention how unlimited his access really was, as a measure Starfleet had given him to prevent any unnecessary deaths or trauma to the crew members. Simply put he was allowed to know anything and everything anyone esle on board the vessel he was allowed to know. He had to work a little to build up that trust that he wouldn't tell the first person who came along all of the Federations secrets. And they couldn't simply wipe the secrets from his mind. They had tried and failed to so, thus he could not leave. He was "too valuable" to eliminate, yet still dangerous to organization because of what he could potential pick up on anyone given mission.

"How many patrols did you see while sneaking around?" Raynor asked.

"Outside the compound, three mechanized, and probably a wide network of sensors. I used a flock of alien animals to mask my approach, so sensors would mistake me to be a stray sheep, so-to-speak. Inside the compound... I didn't count. Just tried to avoid getting into the line of sight of any lifesign that showed up on my tricorder, and prayed that the barrage of micro jamming devices was enough to avoid being detected by internal sensors."

"Risky move..." Raynor commented. "I mean if the sensors were any good, they should of been able to pick out a human lifesign even in that herd... why do you suppose they didn't?"

"As I said, I was carrying multiple devices intended to minimize and jam my signature as much as possible. That's also why it wasn't picked up inside the compound. The reason I used the herd to mask my approach was because I

didn't want some guard to see some unidentified dot on some panel, and look

outside to see what that dot is. SFI technology can fool Hydran sensors, but until they give me a personal cloaking device, I'm as defenseless against

the naked eye as 20th. century spies."

"Where did you find the animals anyways?" Raynor asked.

"The Olor 50 area is a wilderness. On our way from the spaceport to the compound, I noticed several herds wondering around. It didn't take me long to find such a herd once we reached the ridge overlooking the compound."

"So in that time you were able to make WILD animals to take a very specific

route in an ubran area on a planet where you have no familiarity with animal psychology or for that matter knowledge of general behaviour of each beast?" Raynor asked.

"Not an urban area. The compound stretched through the bottom of a vale out of the desert. And believe it or not, all I needed was to make some scary sounds, and the beasts began running in the right direction. I saw nomads do it," he added, suddenlly remembering. Perhaps his Arabian alter-ego did

- Hide quoted text - affect him a little.

"I see... well lets move on to your third instance..." Raynor said in such a way that made seem as if he were making a mental note of something.

- Hide quoted text -

"As for the third time..." Saul sighed. The story he told next was of the grand fiasco with counselor Brian. How he traversed the city, trying to find hints about the whereabouts of Radu Prett, Brian's false identity. How he was told where to find Prett, and how he was beamed into the real Prett's office.

"SFI fucked up. Big time.", He stated when he reached that point, his eyes flaring. "Somehow, Prett was not in custody. He somehow caught word of Brian using his name, and snatched him. Of course, I trusted Intel enough to believe that if they say that Prett is caught, then he's really caught. When I realized that I was messing with the real Prett, it was already too late to flee his lair. He locked me in the same cell as the counselor. Eventually we managed to escape, and got back to the Backbroken's Reward just in time."

Saul's eyes narrowed. "So the mission has been compromised, but it's totally SFI's fault. As someone with 'Special Observations' experience, I think that the preparation job for this mission was done by amateurs. And frankly, most of the team members including myself weren't trained enough for this type of mission."

He leaned back in his chair. "I hope that what I just said will get to the right ears in SFI."

Raynor internally sighed, partly because this wasn't going to SFI even though it probably needed to just a report whether or not Saul was a clone or a sleeper agent. Partly because he knew how unreliable Starfleet Intelligence could be... this is usually why he liked to confirm the information he had through various contacts he had developed, not the least of which were his own people, the Terran Coven, who were usually able to gather more accurate information, though they rarely needed to.

"Personally, I like to confirm any information I get from SFI with an outside source..." Raynor said. "but that aside, you gotta have a plan B, C, D and E... on general principle."

"I would, of course, but we weren't given enough time or information. The mission profile was very general, and we were assured that our false identities are not compromisable."

"That said lets move along... who's the woman?" Raynor said now looking over to where she had hidden herself.

"Her name is Chava, or Eve.", Saul was now traversing dangerous ground. "She comes from the same world as me, and she is an unofficial 'source' of mine. I did not know that she was on Vaden until I found her. I saw myself committed to retrieve her once I found her."

"She doesn't look like she's all there... what happened?" Raynor asked with slight interest.

"What do you mean 'Not all there'? We kept her sedated since we left Vaden until we reached Federation space, so she's still recuperating."

"Getting a vague sense of recent trauma..." Raynor said carefully. "Which never a good sign... know anything about that?"

"She was most likely tortured," Saul explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

"And later interrogated by myself, though she did not know - and still doesn't - that it was I who questioned her. And we'll keep it that way. I intend to let her leave the Galaxy as soon as we return from Romulus."

"Yet you seem to refuse keeping her out of sensitive areas... especially with her lack of security clearance" Raynor said hands spread all around as this room was located in Intel CIC.

"I thought you needed her as part of the debriefing," Saul replied, confused. "As it is, She's either with me or restricted to my quarters, without any security clearance at all. If you want her to get out of CIC, just tell the escort and he'll take her back there. To be honest, I rather she stayed there 'till she gets off the ship. I would never bring her on board or even expose my presence to her - in enemy territory, mind you - if I haven't thought that I was saving her life by doing that."

"You should allow her to see counsellor Saul, she's fine as long as she keeps her eyes in that book. I will need to ask her a few basic questions however, now that shes here, but the call was for you and you alone. Anyways what did you find out from her?" Raynor asked.

"Nothing much, especially when compared to the data collected from the Olor 50 facilty. I didn't expect to see her on Vaden, and I extracted her mainly because I thought she was at risk. Shall we call her in?"

"Lets" Raynor said with simplicity...

The door opened, and Eve stepped in. Chocolate-colored shaggy hair landed in disarried curls on her forhead. She stood next to Saul, smiling cordially as she rested a blue-colored hand on the Tactical chief's shoulder.

"Next time I'll bring a longer book," She commented.

"Try porn next time..." Raynor joked. "Might not be longer par say, but it certainly grabs one's attention for lengthy periods. And for some reason the art of it never gets old regardless of how many times you see it."

Eve rolled her eyes. "Men."

Raynor shook his head in response... "Women."

"Alright take a seat, just have to ask you a few questions... lets start with who the hell are you?" Raynor asked, getting right to the point.

She grinned widely. "I'm the Bolian-Human cheek from doom. Are you serious, mister... mister... what's one golden pip, Saul?"

"Ensign," Saul responded dryly.

"--Mister ensign."

"Be serious, Eve," Saul demanded.

"I'm not the one asking 'who the hell are you'... all right. My name is Chava, I'm a merchant from Utrecht III, and an 'unoffcial Humint source' or however Saul called it."

Raynor sighed internally again... if this person truly wished to be difficult he could always kill her. He'd get the information he saught either way. "What were you doing on Vaden?" he asked his tone deadly serious.

"I was on a business trip."

"What was the nature of your business on Vaden?"

"The nature of my business... was none of your business," the words came out slowly.

"I promised Eve not too question her about her business trips," Saul interjected, "It's part of our mutual agreement. The other side of the deal is that she doesn't ask what business *I* do."

Eve nodded. "The last thing I need is to get tangled with your authorities over this fellow's joyrides around the Galaxy."

Raynor laughed... "Well, lookie here your already tangled with Starfleet authorities, Saul isn't asking you the questions I am... and we don't have any such arrangement now do we? And your business is very much my business because its my business to know as much as possible to find out what the hell happened back on Vaden... and why one team member sent there thought it was worth increasing the risk not only to his own life, but all the others on his team for your tortured ass... so you could stone wall us? And do not think I will not hesistate to kill you, if you continue uncooperative..."

There it was... the threat was in the air... Raynor already had his hand on one of his guns ready, or so it would appear, to carry out the threat.

Saul stood up sharply, hands slammed on the table. "You are WAY out of line, Ensign. You will NOT threaten the life of any of my sources. Certainly not in a routine mission debriefing. And the only reason I'm not going to submit a complaint about you is because your direct superior would pardon Hitler if she knew it would irritate me."

He nodded at Eve. "This conversation is over. Come on."

4 seconds later...

The table had been flipped over the monitor was smashed, Saul had been flung across the room albeit as lightly as humanly possible, and Eve was pinned against the door looking down the barrel of a gun. Raynor pulled the trigger and then...

"Putting Two and Two Together Part II"

Ensign Zev Raynor Terran
Telepath Intelligence Officer

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief Tactical Officer

A dark plain room with a table, two chairs, and a monitor.

"And do not think I will not hesistate to kill you, if you continue uncooperative..."

There it was... the threat was in the air... Raynor already had his hand on one of his guns ready, or so it would appear, to carry out the threat.

Saul stood up sharply, hands slammed on the table. "You are WAY out of line, Ensign. You will NOT threaten the life of any of my sources. Certainly not in a routine mission debriefing. And the only reason I'm not going to submit a complaint about you is because your direct superior would pardon Hitler if she knew it would irritate me."

He nodded at Eve. "This conversation is over. Come on."

4 seconds later...

The table had been flipped over the monitor was smashed, Saul had been flung across the room albeit as lightly as humanly possible, and Eve was pinned against the door looking down the barrel of a gun. Raynor pulled the trigger and then...

*Click*

It was empty. And Raynor let go as if statisified with look on his face... "Well that's definetly going to come out of my pay check," Raynor said looking at the monitior... then turning to Saul. "You ever heard of a bluff? Think about that logically... how could I, get the information if she was dead... there is no way humanly possible for me to do it!" His sarcasm was showing through again. His telepathy had already gotten him all the information he needed.

Eve's split second of complete raw fear of death... was enough for him to extract all the information he needed to screen her out as a possible enemy agent.

Raynor sighed offering Saul a hand up expectant of his complaint... "My mission wasn't to debrief you Saul or her..." Raynor began to explain. "It was to screen you... and if you ask what for, I'll start doubting what your ability to put two and two together. And the words "any means you deemed necessary" were in those orders... so complain to whomever you wish, it won't make a difference. HQ gave me the authority here. And if you think of warning anyone esle on the team I wouldn't bother... you were the last on the list."

"Lovely," Saul muttered. He was pale, much to his dismay. "Raynor, I've seen your 'logic' in action prior to... our departure. Are we done here?"

"Pretty much, unless you want to help clean up..." Raynor joked looking again at the smashed monitor.

"You're going to sue him, right?" Eve snarled as Saul took her hand.

"Go ahead and wait with the security guy, I'll have some words with our nut friend here," Saul told her, and ushered her out of the door. It swished open and close, leaving Raynor and Saul alone.

"Perhaps I can't put two and two together, but I don't see how your little act helped you screen us."

"Technically this is classifed but seeing as your the Head of Tactical and I might have to feed you information at some later date... quickly... best to get this entire explaination out of the way..." Raynor began.

The next part of his explaination was the part where he talked really fast, "Basically I'm telepath who experiences the same tramua everyone esle around me experiences as they go through it. Death, Near-Death, and Fear of Death that is going to happen very soon, allows me to see other people's lives flash before their eyes... and I collect the entire sum of their experiences in that manner. I didn't want to have to use that method because its a pain in the ass, and destroys my ability to play harmless idiot in people's minds."

"Interesting."

A dark frown crossed Saul's face. What the Elder telepath from DS5 told him still haunted him, but he tried his best not to take it seriously. He still did not accept that there were Human telepaths, let alone that he was one of them. Actually meeting one of them... no, but Raynor couldn't be serious. Or was he?

"One last thing, Mr. Raynor, and I think it would be better if you turned off the recording devices now that we're done. All four of them."

Raynor raised an eye brow and then spoke, "Computer stop all visual and audio recording devices..." The room made the usual acknowledged sounds. Though the universal translator recording still continued.

Saul folded his arms, measuring the black-collared Ensign. "I may have my disagreements with Dobryin, but she's a fine officer, and held in high esteem by the Captain. Eventually, she'll be promoted and probably transfered higher up the ladder. And do you know who would be her natural heir? Hint - he's originally from Intel, already serves on board, and has Department Head experience. Two and two, Raynor. It's often four."

"Me?" Raynor asked in jest. True Raynor was also from Intel and had Department Head experience... but he knew the answer was infact Saul. The current Captain didn't really trust Raynor because of the act he forced on himself.

Saul flashed a crooked smile at Raynor before turning his back on him. "The answer should be given in rational numbers."

"The rational numbers as you call them are in my favour... Over ten years experience in Fleet Operations, being currently more up todate with the state of affairs within this department, years of experience in being a Department Chief, and not tied down with running another department... Rationally I would be choice... Mr. Bental, but based on gut instinct alone... and that is based irrational fear of contradictions in the basic face I present to the world," Raynor spoke softly, but openly.

"A face which has hacked the comm system so for a straight hour. And not only could it not be overwritten, but it couldn't be traced either. And with that broadcast that ensued, managed to distract the crew from a recent incident... trauma... and yet no figured out the obvious intent of my actions to cheer everyone up. Even with the boost in morale right afterward. Because they considered the man behind the action an idiot," Raynor was revealing part of his true nature... though he still hated how much he was talking, and bragging. Especially bragging.

It wasn't the way of a Ronin tell so much... but chances said that they'd be working together soon, now that they were in Romulan space... he didn't want to risk having this officer not taking him seriously when there was a decent chance he might need to. For some reason Raynor felt it was worth it to have this man reevaluate him.

"I'll be the last one to say anything about anyone who publicly offends Admiral Proctor, but I also witnessed your act on the mission briefing. What purpose did THAT serve?"

"To see who esle had been called into the meeting place and do a quick read through of their personel files..." Raynor said quietly. "And guess the nature of the mission based on that. To see if it could be done. Because enemy agents would undoubtably notice the sudden disappearance of TWO department heads, the marine's CO, and Command Master Chief all at the same time. That kind of planning just smells stupid, but I take it you were in a rush..."

"I see." Saul didn't know what to make out of that one. He, too, had his doubts about the mission, doubts which were proves to be more than justified. However, the thought of doing what Raynor did - showing up late, and practically forcing Henderson to boot him - didn't cross his mind.

"I don't have any problems with people not playing by the book." He continued after a moment, "I just don't like the style."

"Eh, it's not a popularity contest..." Raynor shrugged. "And I don't mind being asked to die, so long as its a smart move to make, or the right move to make... But there is one more thing... Why did Prett let you off so easily? The escape as Brian tells it, was cliche to the extreme."

"Yea," Saul even told counselor Brian that their escape from the cell was 'the oldest trick in the book'. "Between that and the chamber of commerce, it's no wonder you were asked to screen me. People like Prett... they don't work with the authorities, they work between the authorities, and that's why he didn't sell us to the Hydrans. Perhaps it was his way to repay SFI for trying to capture him and use his identity for a clandestine operation. That's the best explenation I could come up with, and I admit it's not a very good one."

"That's a crappy guess..." Raynor stated, his sarcasm was in full force. "Let's start with my leading theory. He let you go, so you could report back to us to tell us what he looks like because he's about to change his appearance again, but that doesn't explain why he made it overly easy... what do you think about that?"

"Equally as crappy," Saul countered. "I wouldn't have gone through all the efforts, but simply changed my appearance."

"Gets us to waste resources trying to find a man in white... under a different name on Vaden... Why would he let you walk away with that information if he didn't plan on changing his identity and location? And Saul... it is possible to have more than one objective attached to letting you go, but that's definetly on the list... if he even suspects you of being an under cover op, then for that man, it would probably trigger an identity change. Perhaps you encounter so little resistance because nearly everyone had left... just think about it."

"If I were him, and I would allow my prisoners to escape with ease, it would be to follow them to the rest of the group... but, since we managed to leave Vaden, he probably didn't. Before you ask, once spaceborne, we took every possible measure to avoid being tailed."

"No..." Raynor shook his head. "I thought of that possiblity but, he made it TOO easy... someone with Prett's experience would have made it seem easy, yet difficult enough so as to not arouse suspicion. If he was going to tail you he would of implanted a tracking device in Brian while he was unconiscous, and he came back from sickbay clean."

"So what does he gain by making it suspiciously easy? By the way, next time YOU can wrestle a guard and run half the spaceport, if you think that it was too easy..."

Raynor laughed at that... "If I'm there I will... probably will, but then again I wouldn't of been thrown in the brig in the first place. Pretending to be someone I'm not..." he said smirking again.

"I'm sure you'll get your chance."

"By the way..." Raynor asked. "Do you want to know what your girl out there has been up to, or should I keep that information to myself?"

Saul smirked. "Nice try, but I finished playing that game. As far as I'm concerned, what's important that she's not going back to Vaden."

Saul didn't have a chance to consider the implications of Raynor mind-scanning Chava until now. He didn't know how effective was his mind-reading method, and did not intend to supply the intelligence officer any more information.

As long as Eve wasn't aware of Saul's agenda, it was secure. And if Raynor found out about the real purpose of Eve's business trip, then Saul's career would be much safer if no one knew that Saul was aware of Eve's intentions.

If Raynor did find out why Eve was there, and will inform his superiors... well, it'll make Saul's life harder, true, but he'll just have to adapt and change his plans accordingly.

As if reading his thoughts, "If I gave away everyone's secrets... I'd be spending the rest of life writing reports..."

"And we don't want THAT now, do we?" Saul responded dryly.

Raynor chuckled, and then looked at Saul with a more serious voice. "Your free to go, though I might think of one or two questions later on that I might need to ask you later so be aware of that..."

"Didn't think otherwise," Saul turned to leave, then recalled one last thing.

"And of course, if you get a new insight about Prett... talk to me."

"Certainly" Raynor said, grabbing the table and flipping it back upright, revealing how smashed the monitor was... "Whoever they send to fix this, isn't going to believe what happened."

"He'll just have to put two and two together."

Ensign Artim -Security Brat

"Boys Will Be Boys"

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

<< Cargo Bay >>

"I'm on it" Artim said into his commbadge as he picked up his pace in response to the call he'd gotten. Apparantly a civilian and one of the Jem'hadar were in a fight. Normally Artim wouldn't be the best person to respond but in this case, the officer in charge of watching the Jem-hadar had requested Artim specifically. The two combatants were kids.

He got to the place, right outside one of the Cargo Bays the Jem'hadar were inhabiting and almost got run over by a human boy heading away at top speed. Instead they bumped slightly, enough to stop both. The human looked a little older then Artim and a number of cuts on his face.

"Help! One of those monsters is after me!", the boy shouted

In close pursuit of the human was a Jem'hadar boy, same age with a look of victory on his face.

"Coward! Come back here!"

Seeing no other adults moving to stop the...incident Artim jumped in the path of the Jem'hadar and said sternly, "Ok, that's enough."

The Jem'hadar stopped in his tracks, confused. The same confused look he normally got when someone saw him in uniform for the first time. Figured, he'd gotten the look from alot of the Jem'Hadar on Tru'haran. Eventually he responded,

"And what do you think you can do kid! I already beat your friend there."

Artim shook his head and rolled his sleeves up and assumed a defensive stance. He didn't want to stun a kid, especially since stun didn't do much on a Jem'hadar anyway. He figured he might have to get rough, but he didn't want to.

"This uniform's not for show...whatever your name is. I'm security. Now, why don't you go back in there and we'll forget this happened OK? "

Before Artim was done speaking the Jem'hadar was rushing straight at him, straight on charge. As soon as he was in reach Artim grabbed the Jem'hadar and used a Judo-like manuver he'd learned in his days as a freighter pilot to reverse the youth's momentum and throw him to the ground. Not hard, but enough for the kid to get the message that there'd be more. Undeterred the Jem'hadar got up and came at Artim again. This time he managed to land a punch to the Miran's temple that staggered Artim for a moment before he responded with a swift punch to the alien youth's stomach followed by another to the chin that sent the kid backwards. Before the Jem'hadar could come at him again, two adult Jem'hadar finally emerged and held the boy back.

"Let me at him dad!" the kid screamed only to earn a glare from one of the adults.

"Enough Erid! That one is one of their officers, and he's alot older then he looks.", the adult Jem'hadar said. Artim vaguely recognized him as one of the scientists, Ita'arik, he'd met at the lab. After he sent the youngster, who had a extremely shocked look on his face now, back in the cargo bay with the other adult he looked at Artim and the human child and said, "My apologies for my son's behavior. The two boys had met at school, and well..."

"Boys will be boys Ita'arik, its totally understandable. I know as well as any." , Artim replied as he pulled himself together.

"Indeed. Again, my apologies ensign. Be well." , Ita'arik nodded and went back in the bay.

"How did you...", the human boy said with a mix of awe and curiousity in his voice.

"Rough childhood. Come on, I'll take you to sickbay." , Artim grinned from ear to ear as he helped the human boy up and sheparded him to the turbolift.

"Personal Log"
Ensign T'Rei
Security

"Upon my time here on the Galaxy, I've had a few major revelations in terms of what my life is and or was. My identity up until this point was assured, but recent developments lead me to question exactly who I am. At the request of the counselor, I am starting a personal journal that's handwritten, however, at this juncture I believe that it is more logical to speak my words verses taking the added time to write them down on "paper". Finding a happy medium between my Vulcan upbringing and Terran genetics is not the most easiest.

I find at times that I get perplexed as to how I am supposed to act. There are moments when I am in the middle of a duty shift, or in ten forward drinking a coffee and just want to break free from this mold that was placed upon my psyche. What would be the logic in that? Nothing. You see, that's where I'm stumped. I would give anything to shed my inhibited nature, just for a fore night. A few people; the counselor and the fighter pilot have seen me at my most human, and nothing derogatory has come from it. I believe I shocked the pilot, and have not heard from him since. Which would make sense. Exhibiting that side of myself should only be reserved for me in the privacy of my own quarters. Or, at least, with the holosuite locked.

I have to admit, my Vulcan stance has alienated me from gaining acquaintances on board. I appear "stiff" to most of my fellow security department crew, and they find it easier to distance themselves from me rather than to get to know me. It is not their fault that they feel uncomfortable, it's a factor of vision over personality. Upon viewing no pointed ears, they naturally wonder why the girl with the red hair and green eyes act so non- emotional. It could be of benefit if a situation arose that would call for use of my head, instead of my heart. Lately, for years at least, my head has always led my actions. My heart has easily grown cold due to non use of it. Hell, I wonder if I'm capable of passion, love, and romance without analyzing every little incident that occurs that can lead to those things. Time will tell.

Other things on board have been interesting to say the least. Having all the Jems walking around does not affect me the way it affects some of the other crew members due to the war. I have researched the events, and understand truly the animosity felt towards the Jem Hadar. It is just as with any other war, the side you are on dictates your feelings and actions for the most part. There may be a few traitors, but in the long run, the side you are affiliated with molds you to certain beliefs that you grew accustomed to having. Some may have feelings to the opposite of their side, but rather than cause a 'stir' they quietly revolt in their own ways. In the end, it comes down to politics. Wars are started and ended on events that spark leaders to speak up on behalf of their people. Even if some of the people disagree on the events or what led up to them, it is the people in charge that have the last say, regardless of various opinions.

I'll record more later, due to the fact that I am up for a duty shift.

Ensign T'Rei. End recording."

-Recording stopped.-

"A Random Trip into Angel's"
By: Michael Ayers/T'Rei

===---

It was one of "those" shifts that made T'rei wonder why she ever felt inclined to join Star Fleet, let alone join the security department. Tension had been high lately, which made the personal rather hostile towards each other. Just from this shift alone, she had an incident of domestic violence, two security ensigns sent to the brig for fighting over a science ensign, three drunks, and a routine patrol on deck 16. It was enough to cause even the most stoic Vulcan impersonator to drink, and that's exactly what she was going to do.

Upon entering the bar, she boldly walked her exhausted frame up to a chair, hoisted herself upwards, and motioned to the bar keep.

"Whiskey, straight up."

Michael turned his shoulder and looked at the newcomer for a few seconds. He had his fair share of "damn the conversation and give me a drink" people through his bar lately, an obvious indication of the heightened stress levels on board the Galaxy. Turning completely, he pulled out a small shot glass and poured the amber beverage into it.

Handing the sharp beverage to her, he smiled. "Hi, nice to meet you too." He grinned, not offended by her lack of introduction, rather trying to remind her that he wasn't a replicator.

She offered him a somewhat lopsided grin in return. Grabbing the drink, she downed it in two seconds, the obvious affects were not lost on her latest facial _expression. "I've been ravaged by idiots. I apologize if I come across as hostile." She held out her hand "Ensign T'Rei." Glancing downwards, and then back up to meet his gaze, she pointed at her uniform. "Security obviously."

Michael returned the gesture with a grin, "Looks like I'm wrong then, I figured you for an engineer." He replied with a grin, pulling her empty shot glass back and washing it out before returning it to its place behind the bar. The Angels Club was much busier today, perhaps because more people were hearing about it and thus, deciding to give it a try themselves. He was contemplating establishing a emitter to provide a few holographic assitants, but that would require a little help from Engineering.

"An engineer? Now, some of the security officers would peg that as an insult sir."

Returning his attention to T'Rei. "I won't have to relieve you of your firearm will I?" He asked with an amused grin, mostly joking but then again, there was always the possibility of a drunk security officer firing into the ceiling like some 19th century cowboy.

T'Rei smirked somewhat. "Nooooo, you won't. That's all the alcohol I'm permitting myself. I would like some coffee though." She nodded as she wrapped her hand around the large mug he sat in front of her. "What's your story? And, since I'm going to be here for a while, I want the whole bloody story."

Michael chuckled, realizing that she hadn't been the first, nor last to inquire as to his past. Apparently that topic has sparked more interest on board the Galaxy, as this proverbial rumor mill seemed incredibly efficient, and very active. If he didn't know better he'd say that someone had made it a job on board this ship. Whether T'Rei was trying to figure him out on behalf of those fellows, or whether it was just simple curiosity didn't matter.

"There's no story to tell, I'm just a humble bartender serving you drinks." He replied simply with a familiar smirk as he ran the replicator. Coffee was perhaps one of the only beverages that he had to use the replicator for, considering that transporting real beans was very expensive, even in the 24th century. He continued, "I came from point 'A', landed in point 'B', and accidently found myself in point 'C'. Now, I'm at point 'D', serving you coffee" He finished, handing her the mug.

"So how about you? I've heard a few interesting things." He concluded.

Bringing the mug up to her lips, she lightly took a sip of the beverage, reveling in the calmness the stimulant provided her. Placing the mug down, she arched her one eyebrow. "Interesting things about me? Yeah right. The most interesting thing about me is that I put my pants on one leg at a time."

Michael chuckled, "There are still people who do that?"

The last time he had an attractive female in the bar was when Ember Lansky was around, and he had gone through his fair share of bottles with her. She was incredibly mysterious, probably comparable with the shroud and shadow he used to conceal his own past. They still had plans for later this evening, which wouldn't be entirely comfortable since he'd have to take another dose. Hopefully the symptoms would be minor.

T'Rei seemed of a different breed though, not the type who would enjoy alcohol in such surplus amounts. She seemed, in control.

She watched him as he served others around the bar. It would be nice to have his attention just on her, but then, that would not be realistic. He had a business to run, and by the looks of it, it was going rather well. He walked back over. "Well, what do you like to do for fun?" It was obvious that he was not into sharing his past, and she was one to respect that and not badger him to death about it.

Michael grinned, leaning forward against the bar stand as he inched slowly closer towards T'Rei. It wasn't an intimate gesture, more of a casual motion. "How about you?"

"I read, write, ballroom dance, fire phasers, tackle bad guys...you know...typical girl stuff."

"Typical girl stuff, huh?" Michael began, wiping the table clean with a sterilizing cloth he had draped around his shoulder. "Name one thing that's *typical* around here." He said, motioning around the ship and its crew.

"Um..." T'Rei paused as she gave a cursory glance to her surroundings. "Well, everything around here is typical in it's own way."

Michael gave her a curious look, he hadn't been on board for very long at all and he could already tell that this ship was about as atypical as it came. Hell, just take one look at the security officer who barely stands above four feet and looks like he could be his kid brother. "Really?"

"Well, yeah. What means typical to one person is something non - typical to the next person. So in an abstract way, everything is typical to some body." She paused and shook her head. "God, I hate when I do that....go off on tangents." T'Rei laughed lightly. "Sorry."

Michael shrugged lightly, the grin failing to fade.

She turned to hop down from her bar stool. "Thanks for the conversation and the coffee. I have to go and rest a bit. I have another shift starting in a few hours."

Michael nodded, pulling her mug over but maintaining his attention on her as not to be rude or anything like that. "Take it easy, although I doubt you'll be getting much rest after drinking one of these." He replied, gesturing towards the mug.

"I'm pretty sure I can catch a few hours of sleep. If not, I'll likely see you soon." T'Rei stated. "It was nice meeting you."

"Likewise," Ayden returned with a small wave as he finally turned the glass over and placed it into storage. When T'Rei was out of sight he started to chuckle again, resounded at the diversity of this crew. That one was supposively the vulcan-trained human he was hearing about. She certainly seemed at a clash in the way she socialized, partly with the stotic vulcan demeanor, mostly with the human side of fun.

"Fun fun..." he replied, continuing his work. Glancing at his chronometer, he realized that he had a little less than an hour before morning shift started, which meant he'd be enjoying breakfast with Ember Lansky before getting some sleep himself.

"Deus ex machina?" Part 1

Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Cora Dobryin
Chief Intelligence Officer

Ensign Eve
Intelligence Officer (Technical Operations)

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

Transporters. A miracle achievement of technology, they can whisk a person or object from here to there in the space of a handful of heart beats. Eve always did enjoy transporters. She found the sensation of dematerialization and subsequent reassembly refreshing and invigorating in ways incomprehensible to others when she tried to explain.

Within Transporter Room 2, USS Galaxy, a single column of light descended from ceiling to floor, widened with the usual accompaniment of white, blue, cerulean, and the barest hint of violet hues, and faded into nonexistance to leave a singular figure standing upon the #1 pad, complete with a single mid sized duffel bag strapped over her left shoulder. Eve turned her cold, violet eyes onto the transporter operator. "Permission to come aboard?"

The chief nodded, though it was obvious he was slightly unsettled. "Permisson granted, ma'am. Lieutenant Dobryin has left instructions that you are to proceed to the intelligence office."

Eve nodded her thanks and stepped down off the padd, making her way for the door and the corridor that inevitably lay just beyond. When informed of her posting, Eve had called up the specifications of the USS Galaxy. Not the Galaxy 3 serries, but the Galaxy herself. Confident in the accuracy of the quite up to date schematics, she made her way post haste towards the Intelligence complex burried within the starship's saucer section.

Cora was in her office doing some much needed research. Given the current mission and investigation things were very busy in Intelligence. Expecting the latest addition to the department any time now.

It didn't take to long for Eve to arrive at the intel complex. Aparently, her clearance was already programed into the computer - no surprise there - as the doors whisked open for her without inquiry. A few heartbeats later found her at the door to the Chief's office.

She pressed the chime.

"Enter," Cora called.

Eve stepped inside, came to attention, and saluted smartly. "Ensign Eve, reporting for duty, Ma'am."

She stood to greet her new Intelligence Officer, "Welcome aboard the Galaxy."

"Thankyou," Eve responded.

"Just A Short Trip"

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe
Assistant Chief Engineer

Lieutenant Victor Krieghoff
Security Officer

Kio
Medical Officer

Ensign Lela Beral
Operations Officer

Flight Officer Ember Lansky
Fighter Pilot/Helm Officer

Sub-Commander Delon Velal (NPC - Written by Trey)
Romulan Naval Intelligence Officer

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

"Why me!"

"...It's not like I don't have enough to do," Kimberly griped to the unresponsive Runabout. Sat in the aft section of the USS Legacy, one of the Galaxies Yellowstone Runabouts, she waited for the mixture of personnel that had been assigned to this little excursion to arrive. 'A simple run' she'd been assured, 'Scan the asteroid zone in system, fly around for a while and check the area. detailed tachyon scan,' ~ And so on and so forth, ~ she thought as she read the brief again.

"How did I end up with this?" she mused, "did someone think I need command experience?" ~ Yeah, right! ~ checking the PADD again she looked for authorisation on the form, expecting Kol, figuring this would be just the sort of humour the Klingon XO would probably subscribe to, seeing however Hendersons authorisation she frowned and made a mental note to have a 'long' chat with the skipper. When she got back.

They had a few hours to go through pre-brief, and a few more hours to pack and prep, ~ A lot to do for a simple recon! ~ she admitted, scrolling through the checklist attached to the brief. Apparently, up until the dissolution of the neutral zone a while back, there had been rumours of ships operating out of the zone, ignored by the Rihannsu as they had never entered their space, and uncaught by Starfleet as the fleet had never been prepared to venture into the zone. Now with the relations between the two governments somewhat more amicable there had been more of an effort made to try and find the ships that had preyed on civilian vessels.

There were still a few systems marked as neutral territory, holdouts who preferred or profited from staying non-aligned, and it was to one of these systems asteroid zones that they would be going, to see if they could find out anything new. ~ Get in, snoop around, be nosy. nothing new really! ~

~ I still want to know why me though! ~ she complained to herself again as she waited

* * * * *

No one had thought to tell Delon when he was given the assignment that he would be travelling with the humans. It was an insult to the sub-commander who had worked his way up into the Rihannsu Navy Intelligence sciences division to become a babysitter for the likes of the Federation. Nevertheless no would could tell him he was not dedicated to his job, because here was on the D'Deridex class ship waiting for whoever it was to arrive so he could join them. Delon liked being onboard the Dividices, it was a refreshing to be away from the homeworld, but knowing why he was here was slightly bitter on his tongue.

For now all he could do was wait onboard the cloaked ship and wait for the others to arrive so he could join them.

Lela just came to her quarters after duty, and she took notice of some message waiting for her in the computer

~ Hopefully it isn't another transfer ~ thought Lela

It was an order to join a special scout mission in former neutral zone to find some pirates. She should report to the leader of the mission, Lt. Kimberly Burton.

~ Strange, a doctor leads scout mission. So, I'll better go to report immediately ~ "Computer, where is Lieutenant Kimberly Burton?" =Lieutenant Kimberly Burton is in main shuttlebay, in USS Legacy= "Thanks."

Lela left her quarters again, heading to the nearest turbolift.

"Main shuttlebay." She ordered to the computer.

Few moments later Lela was entering the main shuttlebay. USS Legacy was quite near to the turbolift, with which Lela arrived. Lela set forth, heading towards her. She hadn't found lieutenant on the bridge of the runabout, so she entered the aft section. Lieutenant Burton was sitting in a chair in the lounge and she was starring at some PADD. The initial impression to Lela was, that Kimberley is not very happy about her new role.

~ Well, it will be very interesting mission. In principle inexperienced OPS officer, Commanding officer not sure of herself either, hopefully at least the others will be more suitable. And hopefully nothing unexpected will happen ~

While Lela was thinking, Kimberley raised her eyes at her. Lela found, that it is a bit inappropriate for her to be silent, and that she should explain her presence here.

"Ensign Lela Beral, OPS officer for the mission, reports for duty sir."

* * * * *

Victor checked his padd a final time, found nothing new that needed doing, and dropped it on to his desk. His shifts were covered and assignments had been altered to make up for his absence. He wasn't sure how long the assignment would last, so he'd made suggestions on semi-permanent revisions to the schedule to Commander Corgan; whether the Commander would take them was, of course, another story.

A buzz from his door was followed by the quiet announcement from the security scanner installed there that the caller was the Flight Officer. He'd expected that on some level after the message he'd sent her, informing her that he was temporarily being assigned off-ship. "Enter."

She was still dressed in her flight coveralls, which meant that she'd come straight from the simulators. There was something else about her though, something... different. "Yes?" he asked as he picked up the small bag he'd packed.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Where are they sending you? It's not about your lung again, is it?"

"No." She appeared worried, although Victor didn't understand why. "A survey mission."

She relaxed slightly. "Why do they need you to survey something?"

The answer was obvious, "Because they might find something."

"But..." she shook her head. "I... Why did you send me the message? Why not just go?"

That was silly too - or at least he thought it was. "You needed to know, so you wouldn't wait for me in the holosuite every night until you discovered I was gone."

Her green cat's eyes widened slightly. "You didn't want me too."

Ah. That was it. "You changed you hair," Victor observed, interrupting her. "It's simpler now."

She smiled and looked down. "Do you like it?" she asked softly.

Victor considered that. Did he? How did someone 'like' hair? What did that mean? Perhaps she meant it in purely geometric terms? "It frames your face better this way," he offered.

Her smile widened, and she flushed slightly.

"I have to go," Victor continued. "I've set the rolling holosuite reservation to resume after I get back." He started for the door, and then paused. "Would you check my message queue and see if a message from Imperial Attendant K'vala comes in? If it does, tell Commander Corgan - he's worried about it taking too long."

"I. I will," she nodded.

Victor nodded once and started for the door again, the Flight Officer right behind him. "One more thing," he said quietly as the door closed and locked behind them and they started towards the turbolift. "While I'm gone.."

"Yes?" she asked hopefully as the turbolift opened and Victor stepped inside.

Victor's eyes met hers, and what he'd about to say fell inside the emptiness that filled him and something else came out. "While I'm gone, you don't have permission to die," he said the turbolift doors closed - and then spent ten decks wondering why he'd said those words to her.

* * * * *

"Ensign Lela Beral, OPS officer for the mission, reports for duty sir."

Ensign Kio stepped onto the runabout and found that Lieutenant Burton and another woman officer were already present. She was pleased to be working under Burton on this away mission; the woman was one of the few non-Vulcans Kio felt at ease with. Whatever her private reservations about "dealing" with Romulans she found this a point in favour of the excursion. There was little else she liked about it, but it was her duty not to have a personal opinion on what was asked of her by her superiors.

Her medical kit over one shoulder she stepped forward and saluted to Lieutenant Burton.

"Ensign Kio reporting for duty Sir."

Looking up at the two Ensigns before her Kimberly smiled, "Welcome aboard, have a seat," she offered the two of them, "Replicator's open," waving toward the device set into the wall, "We're just waiting on a few more people and then we'll begin, PADD's on the table have the mission outline, so have a read and we'll do the twenty twenty questions in a bit when everyone's here," checking her own PADD she called up a status on her small crew, Security hadn't mentioned who they'd be sending, just 'Security Officer, to be assigned' had been listed, Lieutenant Eshe was going to be running a little late, but she could be brought up to speed easily enough on route, she decided, as long as the ship was ready and Eshe was happy enough with her, the details they could go into later.

Their 'Escort' from the Romulan Government was apparently due to be beamed aboard shortly once they'd rendezvoused with his ship, so he would be joining them as soon as he was aboard, and finally their pilot, ~ A Fighter pilot! ~ was going to be late if she didn't hurry.

~ Life as normal on the big ship!! ~ Kimberly decided cheerfully.

* * * * *

Ember hurtled down the corridor at a light jog, veering to avoid several crewmembers as she rushed into the turbolift and the doors closed behind her. Finally able to take a short breather, she leaned back the wall, mentally urging it to go faster. She didn't want to be late for the mission, but after sending a short note to Ayden, she had thought better of it and decided to say goodbye in person. After all, she had no idea when she would be back, though it was likely going to be a short trip. That had gone a little longer than intended.

She didn't expect anything overly exciting to happen, but she was in any case, psyched to fly, as she always was. This was the first time though, she felt as though there was someone 'waiting' for her back home, and she had a new, seeming sense of reluctance about leaving that underlaid her enthusiasm. Still, all it meant was she now had additional reason to perform the best she could at her job so she would be back soon and safely.

"Flight Officer Ember Lansky reporting for duty, sir," She greeted with a salute as she stepped onto the runabout. Most people had arrived, it would seem, and the fun was just about the begin.

* * * * *

The Rihannsu D'Deridex class Warbird Dividices raced through space under cloak as if it were stalking it's latest prey. They were to meet with the USS Legacy in roughly three hours. Delon was anything but worried about this interaction with those of the Federation and their allies. Delon was a proven officer. He got the job done, regardless of his own beliefs. Truth was, he was one of the best officers to send on this kind of endeavour. He was so blinded by the politics that affected the major houses of the Rihannsu houses, but he also wasn't totally welcoming of the Federation control either. He believed in reunification with their cousins, the Vulcans, but only if the Rihannsu people could retain their own culture and way of life and do so as they see fit.

Delon was a man of patience, believing in time to those who wait everything will be given. However, his patience wasn't so giving as he was waiting on the USS Legacy. Standing in the observation deck on the Dividices, he looked forward as the warbird cut through the darkness of space. Wondering if the reports were true about the recent activities inside the neutral zone were true.

* * * * *

"Well, everyone else will just have to catch up when they arrive," Kimberly said, sounding a touch irritated, ~ not an auspicious start to this little excursion, ~ she thought, "if you'll grab a PADD, the mission specs are outlined on there, basically though, as you can see, over the last five years or so there have been a series of sporadic attacks on civilian targets around the neutral zone, since the dissolution of the zone the attacks have declined but are still ongoing. Starfleet and the Rihannsu governments have done some investigation and decided that the ships, which we believe are one or two old but modified Peregrine class couriers, are hiding out in one of the systems that have decided to remain neutral. Basically, we have permission to go and scan one of these neutral systems, see if we can find anything. Have a look at the proposed flight plan, let me know if you have any suggestions," she asked, more than willing to hear suggestions, "this is just a look around, if we do see anything we're to call in either the USS Okuda that's nearby, or a Warbird that our Rihannsu observer will be able to call, the Government of this little system has only agreed to a small scout mission until it's presented with proof that there's actually something illegal going on."

"Questions?"

"Just one, Doctor," Victor's emotionally null voice asked from the doorway. "Are we waiting for anyone else?"

~ Oh Goddess! ~ Kimberly thought, trying not to let her distaste for the newly arrived member of their little mission show, without turning she indicated a vacant chair, "Lieutenant Eshe will be joining us shortly, she's collecting a few parts for the Runabout," she replied, "Have a seat, grab a PADD and have a read," she said simply, "let me know if you've any other questions."

Looking at the small group around the table, "Otherwise, we should only be gone a couple of days, three at the most, our orders state to observe and scan, if we find anything, the USS Okuda or a Rihannsu Warbird should be nearby on patrol, they'll be responsible for negotiating with the locals once we've obtained the needed proof. Lieutenant," not looking at Krieghoff she directed the comment to him," you'll be responsible for the tactical scans upon arrival, along with our guest, once he arrives, everyone else, duties are covered on the PADD's, but it's all fairly standard."

"Understood," Victor nodded. It wasn't his best skill, but he'd put in enough hours in simulations to ensure that he wouldn't miss much even counting that.

Letting everyone read Kimberly ran through her own checklist, once the initial pre-brief was over they had about an hour or so before they had to leave for their rendezvous with their Rihannsu guest, ~ Better get a move on then ~ she decided.

* * * TIME SNIP * * *

"Sub-Commander, we have the USS Legecy on long range scans." The dark haired at sensors stated as she looked up toward the man sitting in the command chair. Delon nodded. "Maintain cloaking device and this position." He said as he stood up and watched the view screen as the Federation runabout approached at warp speed. "Once they get within transporter range, drop cloak." he said then signalled for a channel to be opened.

"This is Sub-Commander Delon Valel of the Rihannsu Naval Ship Dividices, we have you on sensors... continue on approach and send information for transport. I'll be beaming over shortly." Delon said then nodded to the Romulan at communications.

"T'lar, you have your orders. Stand by for my signal." Delon stated.

"Yes sir..." The small man said as he stepped up and sat down in the command chair. "Once he's over, Sikaia, engage cloak and take us on to our destination."

"Understood."

With that Delon headed off the bridge and headed toward the transporter bay.

"They Picked THIS Crew?"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineering

*****Crew Quarters*****

Nara was slipping on a boot as she heard the captain's message. She couldn't help but scowl and mutter, "Another test. Great."

Saia and her little Jem'Hadar friend came bounding in the door, causing her to look up and erase the scowl. She had come to almost like the little guy. He was quiet and not as sassy as Saia. In fact, he seemed to have cured some damage Sam had done. Saia seemed more cooperative then she was. "Do I get to go?" Was the first thing Saia said seeing Nara.

Nara shook her head, "I doubt it, Saia. I don't even think I want to go." She gave a quick smile to the Jem'Hadar in the room, "No offense, but I'm not fond of studying and being my luck, I'd fail and end up in jail or something. Not being a key member of the crew, I'd likely be left there and you, Saia, would end up who knows where."

Saia looked sad at her friend who just shrugged, "Maybe when you're older."

Nara stood and crossed her arms thinking, "It seems we need to go for diplomatic reasons. I'll see if you can as a guest of this guy here. I've got a shift to get to." She got the kids a snack and Jerik showed up just in time for her to leave.

She couldn't help but cast suspicious glances at the Jem'Hadar she passed. She really did dread studying up on Jem'Hadar law. ~Likely a bunch of marshall punishment. Fights to the death and such.~

When she stepped inside Engineering, there was a chaotic round of wispering. She looked around for the Chief who should be coming out to bark at people to be quiet. Not seeing this to happen soon, Mei came over to Nara, "I already found it if you want me to put it in a PADD for you."

Nara blinked and nodded to her, "Thanks." She was glad she wouldn't have to go searching for it. She checked the assignment board, frowned seeing the field assignments already taken, then made her way to a console beside Mei. She cast a worried look at her hand and wispered, "What happened?"

Mei was quiet a moment before muttering, "Hand got stuck in the Turbolift."

Nara didn't believe it, but left it for now. "Please be more careful."

They worked in silence for the rest of the shift.

Nara kept thinking about visiting the planet. Having to be all diplomatic. She sighed figuring she would know a bit about it considering how she was treated by some people on Sakaria. Being watched. Expected to act a certain way. Expected to behave. She let out a chuckle thinking of Zev Raynor. ~If he goes, it could cause a major catastrophe!~ Then she thought of Saul, ~Likely try to sell them something...or buy something.~ Her mind went over other people she knew, ~8-Ball...likely to sleep with one of them. George shouldn't go either. At least until he bathes. No, wait, maybe he'll be the best for his stinch.~ She shook her head as a beep came over her console and the huffed seeing a major mess she had to fix.

NRPG/OOC : Backpost. This post is set while the Galaxy is waiting at Deep Space 5.

"Certification" Part I

By Lieutenant Commander Brianna O'Shea, Chief Engineer
Lieutenant Michael Jamson, Asst.Operations Officer USS Galaxy-A

The Galaxy was docked with Deep Space 5, while the big station was coming under repairs and refitted with new personnel. The bulky structure was vast, psychologically reducing the size of the large Galaxy class starship into a the size of a small Vulcan freighter. Recent upgrades and modifications to it's outer hull, made the Federation controlled space floating base more appealing to the naked eye, as well as more technologically advanced. Under the orders of Admiral Proctor, the crew of the Galaxy along with many other Starfleet teams from others ships worked around the clock the refit the station and make it ready. Federation presence in the area was a must, and had strategic and logistic importance.

It's been 3 months since the Dithparu incident, and the crew was still recovering, having some mild effects that would vanish in the near future. No one knew when they Galaxy would be leaving the area, when all reinforcements would arrive, or if the station would be able to stand on it's own later on, but there was an estimate for a couple of months more. For the majority of the crew members onboard the Galaxy, it was a blessing. Although they'd enjoy whatever the station could offer them, in it's current state, there was much work to be done and many goals to accomplish.

Jamson sat at the front Operations station during Beta shift, his shift. He boringly looked at the station, feeling an intense urge to vomit on his console. It's been a few hours since the shift had started, but by now, he completed all of his duties, regarding both the ship and the station. The tasks have entered into a daily routine, mostly concentrating on the station and it's repairs. The crew, was partially on the station, having it's share of 'action', if you could call it one. On the large view screen, the image of the station, the same one he saw yesterday, and the day before...a week ago, a month. 'When would this end?' he thought to himself, playing with the keys on his control panel. A star-ship, like it's name stated, belonged amongst the stars! not stuck on a station, immovable, motionless.

Anna walked onto the bridge, ordinarily it wasn't something out of the normal. However it was beta shift, which wasn't her normal shift. Course nothing with engineering was normal at least to the crimson haired woman who settled down at the engineering station. Her eyes looked tried, and hair looked as if it had one to many stylus wands tucked behind her ears. Soft strands of hair were loose from her normally tight twist. The Galaxy was all ready to go should they needed to break from the station. For the past month, Anna had been working with DS5's personnel to get it up to code and ready for service. Thank god, once the station's chief engineer arrived she could so down some and not be so overworked.

During their duration here though a lot of things had happened in Anna's life. She'd filed a Bridge Certification application with Starfleet Academy. After a few weeks of reviewing her file, they approved her pending authorization of M'Kantu or Henderson. Anna chose to go to Henderson, who approved her for the certification course. However, with everything going on there wasn't anyone to be available to instruct her or to help her through it given the current situation. Anna was disappointed but through herself into work, trying to focus on something else.

Sitting there at the engineering bay, she looked up and saw Jamson down at Ops. Standing up from her seat she headed down the ramp and putting her hand on the back of his seat. "Michael, you were once a captain, weren't you?" Anna asked.

Michael, who stared at view screen like a blind man, after giving up on his operations console, looked surprised. He wanted to greet O'Shea, but it took him several seconds to process and understand exactly what she was talking about. She touched a sore spot, right on the money. It was only an hour ago that he looked at the occupied captain's chair, thinking 'what if' and how he yearned for the responsibility of commanding a vessel of his own. Michael hesitated whether to ignore the question, or answer it. Brianna was more social than the rest, she even showed some compassion and sympathy towards the veteran officer. He usually didn't welcome feelings, but after their joint adventure at the holodeck, he felt a bit more comfortable around her whenever they met. Maybe it was time to finally follow Karyns' advice. He did so with Ensign Dimmilo and Lieutenant London, and things turned out to be quite alright. "Hmmm...yeah..." he replied, revealing he couldn't comprehend the origins of that question.

Since he was still seated, Anna knelt down beside his chair. She didn't like looking down on him like someone about to scold a child. One had rested on the back of his chair she looked at him a minute, Anna never asked for help from anyone, especially a man. "Haven't told anyone but Henderson about this, but recently I filed for Bridge Certification. The Academy has approved my application, and I've got the go ahead here but the problem is no one has the time who is qualified to give me the examination and tests required for the certification." She said, then paused. "You do though, at one time you were a qualified officer of the rank of Captain. Unorthodox, but I think sometimes working outside the box you can see the problem more clearly." She said then smiled slightly.

"Would you help me with my Bridge Certification trails?" Anna asked.

Michael was shocked, literally. It was the first time since he was demoted that a fellow officer actually asked for his assistance, personally, relying on his experience as a commanding officer. Even when he was transferred back to the Academy, and posted as an Instructor, lecturing and teaching basic courses such as Klingon Politics, Starship Command, Military Tactics and Starship Tactics, Jamson was regarded as an intimidating figure, that many cadets and students preferred to stay away from. Even when he taught at the Advanced Tactical Program, and at the Strategic Operations School, which was strictly for enlisted personnel, most officers would keep their distance. This was a welcomed change, since in the past, he would stick to his mark of disgrace and follow the path he was given. "Why not?"

Anna just about hugged, him, but didn't. Holding herself together she did smile. "Great, thank you."

"Why do you want to pass the certification?" Jamson asked bluntly. "Are you interested in Command?"

Pondering his question. "I want it for many reasons. I have in me the ability to do it. I'm a firm believer in never let others hold you back. If you think you can do something, at least try it. As for being interested in command. I wouldn't be where I'm at right now if I didn't have such aspirations." ANna said.

"This wouldn't be an easy qualification" Jamson warned Brianna. "There are a lot of requirements, trainings and exercises. We'd be spending a lot of time at the holodeck, and preparing for your written exam". Every certification, and course were reviewed and eventually approved by the certification board. It's an authorizing body that supervizes all the education and courses at the academy. If an applicant passes the requirements and examinations, and all the appropriate tests, the certification board was to one to issue it's approval. There are many certifications, like the Transporter Certification and the Shuttlecraft one.

"I'm ready for that. I'm good at taking tests, I'm ready for the time and energy I'll have to do it. Outside of my duties, everything else will be put on hold or I'll assign to someone else." Anna said, wanting Jamson to know she was serious about this.

"I remember my Bridge Certification. I was just a lieutenant when I took the holodeck tutorials. It took me awhile, but eventually I passed".

Anna smiled. "So I'm a little long in the tooth, at Lt. Commander, I've had experience you've not had when you took it as a lieutenant." She said then winked.

Michael raised an eyebrow and lowered his eyes to his collar. He was still a lieutenant.

Looking at him for a minute and then saw the way he lowered his eyes. "Just forget about it if it's to much for you... just thought you could help me since you knew what it took." Anna said, then stood back up and walked up the ramp to her station where she retook control from a nameless ensign. Sanding there with her back toward the main view screen she wondered if she was wrong to have asked him for help.

Jamson stared at the floor for a few seconds before his console beeped and caught his attention. He then noticed that O'Seah moved away to her station, so he took his time to plan his next move. An emotional person would simply leap and pursue the lieutenant commander, and by knowing himself, it was exactly what he wanted to do. But, this would probably draw some attention, since he would have to leave his post. What would he choose? the simplest decision making process seemed to create such a burden and despair inside of him. He wanted to jump from his seat, run to her, apologize, and explain, but he couldn't do just that. His reputation was on the line, what would the others say? rising from his station, he signaled an officer at the upper ops station, near tactical to take his place. 'The hell with it....' he thought. Tiding up his uniform, he placed his hands behind his back and walked quickly in her direction, raising his head a few times to observe if someone was paying any attention.

Joining her at the main engineering station, at the back of the bridge, he leaned against the small engineering view screen and said quietly, "I'm....". This was so hard for the proud man to say, and speak up. He looked around and took a deep breath, feeling the lions in his stomach fight before continuing "Sorry". There was a little pause, before Michael added "I didn't mean to offend you in any way". Checking back to see if someone was listening, he bit his tongue "I'd be more than happy to help you in anyway I can".

Anna's eyes looked up, then over in his direction. She knew that it took a lot for him to apologize. She said nothing, but did nod her head knowing he would be the one to appricate a simple nod in acceptance more then anyone. "I want this, Michael. I want it for myself. I don't know if I'll ever get a command, nor am I going into this for that. I want it cause I know I can do it. I want that option for my future." Anna said. "I swear, what you say I will do."

"Then let's get to work....shall we?" Michael cautiously smiled.

"Danger Abounds, Part 1"

Lt. (JG) Naranda Sol Roswell
Engineering Officer

Ensign Zev Raynor
Terran Telepath Intelligence Officer

Ensign Etyan
Security Officer

Sgt. Major Thral
SFMC, Furies Detachment (Written by Michael)

Lt. (JG) 8-ball Hunter
Chief Science Officer

2nd Lieutenant Steven Jonas
SFMC, Furies Detachment

With:

Chief Petty Officer Cynthia McTee (NPC)
Operations Specialist

and

Hologram O'Shea (Reviewed by Trey)
Antagonist

**** Main Engineering, Deck 36 ****

Engineering was the typical place of people standing at consoles or entering and exiting for field assignments. Nara hadn't gotten any field assignments yet that day, but she was having enough issues with a stubborn problem, she barely noticed.

Until five minutes after the problems were fixed. She probably should feel guilty of the giddiness she felt when the call came in about a fire in Holodeck 3.

**** Holodeck 3, Deck 11 ****

The flames roared as the summer breeze flowed from the sea over the shore, fanning the flames into a frenzy. There were only moments before the flames reached the free standing bench that was the small bar. The smoke was thick and it was getting harder to breathe.

"What now?" Steven coughed.

8-ball looked around desperately for anything helpful... a fire extinguisher, a container of water, a large bunny that would guide them to safety... and actually found the container of water among the various bottles of alcohol. She drenched some of the water on both her and Steven before saying, "Maybe we can take out the flames nearest the door, and make a run for it."

Steven nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me."

8-ball and Steven ran towards the door, dodging various parts of the roof that were starting to come down. 8-ball started to cough harder than before and almost dropped the water. She knelt down to pick it up and caught a reflection out of the corner of her eye. A little girl, dead, fire melting the flesh of her face.

~Not now, Azra~ 8-ball thought to herself, and swung the water in the direction of the flames. To her dismay, not a lot seemed to happen, but there was still more water to be thrown. She drenched down the flames as best she could and ran out the door with Steven trailing behind her. The two collapsed on the sand, breathing in the breeze on the wind as if it was the sweetest tasting air in the world.

**** Meanwhile, On Deck 10 ****

Ensign Zev Raynor had been wandering the ship as was his custom... He was on Deck Ten when he sudden felt a wave of panic come over him. Not his own panic... someone else's... He felt fear of death in the air and suddenly reacted. As he telepathically got a handful of details, he ran towards the Jefferies tubes not trusting the Turbolifts... another system O'Shea could sabotage.

Within a minute he was outside the holodeck... possibly setting a record for the shortest time Jefferies tubes, having to only open a hatch and jump down.

There was already someone outside the Holodeck, calling the bridge up with the problem.

"Chief Petty Officer McTee to the Bridge, We have a serious problem down here." She went on to hastily explain the situation. Two Officers trapped, Safety Protocols Off, and Door wasn't responsive.

"McTee, see if there's anyone else around to help with this situation! Something tells me were going to need everyone we can get." Raynor ordered, as he flipped open his cell, and began scanning for any physical reason why the door wouldn't open...

McTee wouldn't have far to go...

**** Holodeck 3, Deck 11 ****

8-ball took her time remembering how to breathe without coughing and turned to Steven. "Are you okay?" she asked him, her voice still gritty from the smoke.

Lying on his back on the soft sand, Steven coughed dryly. His parched throat was still sore from the smoke that he had inhaled, despite the earlier drink. "Yeah, I think so." He closed his eyes, hoping the lack of the visual of the burning building would let him return his breathing to normal. Something was screwed up that was for sure. And that hologram. Who or what was she? Daren, who the heck was Daren? The questions tumbled through his mind, none of which currently had an answer.

"Okay, I don't know what the fuck is going on, but I'm ready to be done with it," 8-ball said. "Computer, end program." This worked as well as the last few times they had tried it. "Great," she muttered to herself and started to stand up. This was harder than she had thought it would be. 8-ball struggled for a second, assuming that her body was just sore and needed rest, until she realized that her legs were actually sinking beneath her.

8-ball looked down at her body as it began to disappear in the quick sand. She would have made some witty comment if she wasn't too busy screaming.

His eyes shot open. He turned towards the scream. There, up to her waist in what had to be quicksand was 8-ball, screaming her lungs out. "Um..." She was sinking fast. He tried to get her attention. "8-ball"

She continued screaming.

"8-BALL!" He said with more authority, eliciting the response he wanted. "I need your help."

8-ball was not known for being gracious as the best of times. When she was rapidly drowning in an inexplicable pool of spontaneously appearing holographic quicksand, she was just downright mean. "And what the FUCK am I supposed to do?" she asked Steven as she desperately tried to move her legs. "I. . .can't. . .fucking move." She tried to quiet her breathing so that she could think of a logical solution to escape her predicament. At this, 8-ball failed spectacularly.

"No, hang on... Just listen for a moment...... You need to stay calm. Keep still. I'm going to get you out." He paused. The best course of action in this kind of situation was to relax and keep calm. Excessive movement sped up the rate of sinking. They had covered this in SERE. And if she stayed still, she probably had five minutes or so before her head would sink below ground level. "The more you move, the quicker you sink."

8-ball instantly stopped moving. Then she started again, because drowning in quicksand was kind of like drowning in water, and she felt like she needed to be kicking her legs or making some type of physical effort to keep herself from dying. She had to force herself to stay still, and it sure as hell was not a piece of cake. She managed to keep her limbs from moving, but this required more concentration and a little more hyperventilation. "Okay... this... is... a short term... plan," 8-ball said between breaths. "What... are we doing... now?"

"Okay, I need to step away for a moment. I need some rope, or a long branch or something like that. I won't be more than a minute. I'll be..."

A deep growl emanated from behind him. Steven groaned. He had heard that sound a long time ago, when he had been a young boy and it didn't bode well. The look on 8-ball's face confirmed his thinking.

Turning slowly, the beast came into view, its magnificent mane blowing in the gentle breeze. He was looking at the mane of a Lion.

~Jesus Christ~ 8-ball thought to herself. ~A lion? A fucking LION!!!! I quit. I quit right now.~

Shaking his head, Steven mumbled to himself. "Things can't get any worse!"

8-ball heard this and shook her head in spite of her vow not to move more than necessary. You never say things like that.

The scarlet haired woman appeared again. "You escaped the inferno, but you will not survive this time." Laughing loudly again, she faded from view as the Lion took a step forward.

"I'll be right back" He called out to the slowly sinking Science Chief. He made a break for the shoreline, hoping to draw the beast away from 8-ball. There was no great plan ringing in his mind, but he'd think of something.

As 8-ball watched the lion leap after her only hope for survival, 8-ball decided that holodecks, and lions, and boys suck.

**** Outside Holodeck 2, Deck 11 ****

Thral had just finished up a training session with a couple Marines in Holodeck 2. As usual, Thral stayed behind a few moments to check the work of the others. Being a teacher so long it came a habit. He'd just emerged when he heard the a mildly hysterical petty officer calling out for help down the corridor. The Tellarite immediately responded not knowing what had happened, though he figured there wouldn't be someone hysterical.

As she came into view, Thral stopped her.

"Chief, what's the problem," Thral said calmly.

The chief went through what she told the bridge. Thral figured they already had alerted security and engineering, but they might not have thought have to call him. For some reason he figured something might need to be blown up in this process, best be prepared.

"Thral to Marine Armory."

"Armory here, Corporal Brezhvic go ahead Sarge." the human armory tech responded.

"I need a live demo pack, Deck 11, holodeck 3 on the double," Thral said with some urgency.

"Sir? What for if I may ask," the tech replied.

"Two officers sealed in holodeck 3. Now please, get down here!"

**** Holodeck 3, Deck 11 ****

8-ball was no up to her armpits in quick sand, and she was going to die soon, either from drowning or panic attacking herself into a dead faint and then drowning. The only plus side she could think of was that the lion wasn't back. Unfortunately, that could have been because it was digesting Steven's organs for supper. It was hard to be an optimist when you were rapidly sinking into quicksand.

Her eyes closed, and she tried to think of appropriate before-death thoughts, like who she loved and how much life she had enjoyed and other such things. These thoughts never really developed past anything beyond 'I don't want to die' and 'I don't want to die by quicksand in a holodeck on a ship I only stayed because I didn't know what to do with my life'.

8-ball decided that fuck it, she wasn't going to die, because she just freaking refused, and opened her eyes to better struggle when she saw Steven running towards her.

He didn't have a lion on his back, which was nice. He also didn't have six feet length rope in his hand, which was less nice. Instead, he had his bootlaces.

Great.

Steven was breathing heavily when he finally made it back. "Hi... I'm... back..." He said between breaths. "Sorry,... this... is.. all I could... find." He held up the bootlaces from his boots. "I'll just draw another pair from supplies when we get out of here" He smiled.

Seeing that his attempt at lightening the mood had bombed miserably, he shrugged his shoulders as his hands worked to create a lasso out of the two laces. Finally done, he hefted the lasso in his hands trying to judge the weight of the lace. "Ready?"

Seeing her expression change to a more irritated look, Steven quickly lined her up and threw. And missed by several feet. "Whoops. Lets try that again" Steven pulled the lasso back in and threw again. This time he was off to the side. A third throw proved to be more accurate, though it didn't catch the intended target.

The bootlaces caught around 8-ball's arm, which she supposed was better than her neck. "There," she said, and held up her arm as high as possible. "Now pull me the fuck out!"

"Yes Ma'am!" Steven twisted the end of the laces around his hands and braced his feet. "I hope the laces don't break." He said with a wink as he heaved away. Now, on any normal day, dragging a 100 or so pounds of weight wouldn't have been a problem, but the effects of the events leading up to this point, and the fact that there was a large amount of sand that seemed to move with the Science officer made the task difficult, but slowly but surely, she inched up out of the sand, until she was close enough to reach out to and pull out the old fashioned way.

8-ball allowed herself to be dragged to normal sand that didn't sink, where she did nothing but breathe and try not to have a complete panic attack. After her breathing became a little more normal, she noticed some grass in the distance behind what remained of the burnt house. "Come on," 8-ball said to Steven, motioning to the grass. "Let's go over there to figure out what the hell is going on. I've never heard of quickgrass, and I suddenly have a lot less fondness for the beach."

**** Swimming Pool, Deck 11 ****

Eytan surfaced at the end of the pool after completing the last of his daily laps, one hand slipping away from the ladder to swipe his long hair out of his eyes, slicking it back. He then grabbed hold of the ladder with both hands and pulled himself up out of the pool, quickly striding over to where his towel was lying with his combadge and phaser--he wasn't on duty this shift, but he liked to keep both nearby at all times, just in case. Picking up the towel, he had only just started to dry himself off when he thought he heard someone shouting outside. Curious, Eytan grabbed his phaser and stepped to the door, poking his head out into the hall as it swished open.

When he didn't see anyone immediately, he turned to look down the opposite end of the corridor and saw an enlisted woman quickly rushing down it. "Hey!" he called out, stepping outside, hanging his towel over his shoulder and not really caring that he was dripping water on the floor of the hallway. "What's going on out here?"

The noncom hurried back toward Eytan, quickly babbling an incoherent string of what the Brenari assumed were words. He raised a hand. "Easy, easy, just take a breath." The noncom did so, and he finally continued. "I'm Eytan, with security. What's the problem?"

She quickly explained the situation to Eytan, and his eyes widened in surprise. "Right, uh...I'm on my way," he told her, quickly turning to step back into the room he just came out of. "Um, keeping looking for help!" he said over his shoulder as he stepped inside. He quickly grabbed his combadage and glanced across the pool at the door leading to the locker rooms. Eytan gritted his teeth as he looked between that door and the door leading back out to the corridor. The locker rooms were all the way on the other side of the pool; he wouldn't have time to rush inside and change into something less...revealing.

Finally he sighed and turned, running back outside. ~To hell with it,~ he thought as he hurried down the corridor. His mind whirled as he tried to think of the nearest on-duty security officer on this deck, and finally he tapped his combadge. "T'Rei, this is Eytan. Get to Holodeck Three immediately, we have some trapped personnel. I'm on my way right now!" he said before rounding a corner, moving as quickly as he could, considering his bare feet.

**** Outside Holodeck 3, Deck 11 ****

Trying to ignore the memories that flashed in the back of his mind, Raynor was still conducting his scans when he noticed the green uniform show up... He didn't bother with more than a glance concentrating on what was jamming the door from being manually open...

"Ensign, what exactly are you doing?" , Thral said gruffly. He didn't really care about the rank of the whelp in front of him.

"Trying to figure out if there's a pressure sensor bomb jamming the door among other things," Raynor replied mildly.

Thral just happened to have his specially tuned demolitions tricorder on him from the training exercise and began scanning. "No explosives detected, at least no known ones."

"Alright... the door appears to be jammed physically though, beamed into the wall," Raynor explained. "It's gum up the works and worse..."

Raynor gave a light kick towards the door. "There's a forcefield raised."

Thrall studied the mechanism and the readings he had gotten "Nothing a little explosives can't cure, good thing I was here", Thral mused.

Raynor was about to argue that method, when he noticed out of the corner of his eye and turned.

Nara stopped in front of Holodeck 3.

"Genius here wants to blow up the deck to get our people out..." Raynor sarcastically commented, then updated Nara as to the forcefield and the object that had been beamed in, to jam the doors.

Whatever the people already at Holodeck 3 were discussing was interrupted as a man wearing only swimming trunks and a towel rounded a corner and hurried over to them. "Ensign Eytan, security," he told them, slightly out of breath. "What's the situation?"

It took him a second or two for Eytan to realize that nobody was answering him, only staring at him. He blinked and looked down at himself, suddenly remembering his state of near-undress, and he quickly moved his towel from his shoulders to his waist, tying it around himself. "What?"

"Maybe you should some pants on if you wish to continue fighting evil today..." Raynor joked, not really caring one way or another.

"Spelunking"

Major Corran Rex
Lieutenant Ella Grey

--------------------
Jeffries Tube 47-3/B
Deck 41
---------------------

There was just no dignified way to work in a Jeffries tube, Ella thought as she shifted from sitting on her legs to lying flat on her stomach. Your ass was either in the air or your limbs were splayed about and to top it all off your head usually hit the ceiling about twice, if you were lucky.

She thought she heard her name and called back a disgruntled "yeah", hating the way it echoed off the walls.

"Now that," she heard clearer, "Has got to be one of my favorite views in the universe." came the admiring voice of Corran Rex. Truthfully, the way Ella could twist around, sometimes....

She threw a smirk back over her shoulder at him and then returned to her work. "Class get out early today?"

"Everybody gets tired of simulators after awhile." the Trill shrugged - as best he could - in the small, cramped Tube. "And Cass doesn't want us flying a CAP while we're in orbit of the Romulan homeworld. Something about them getting touchy about us launching starfighters over their planet."

"Romulans." Ella said with a roll of her eyes. "No fun at all."

"Actually, that's not true." Corran corrected with that faint look of memory. "I knew this one girl, about... forty years ago - she was..." Abruptly, he cut himself off.

Ella rolled over on her side to look at him with an amused expression.

"Well, nevermind." he amended hastily. "Point is, it's not just anger all those Vulcans you meet are suppressing. They're a very.. passionate.. people."

She arched an eyebrow. "You don't say."

"So..." he trailed, looking for an out. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"Alleviating boredom." Ella replied with a knowing smile. "We haven't found anything in a few hours, plus people were getting on my nerves, so I volunteered myself."

"Just decided to climb into a small, cramped.. remote.. Jeffries tube, all by your lonesome?"

She gave him one of her best smiles. "Yeah, and I've been real lonely."

"How.. lonely?" Corran asked, definitely.. warming.. to the smile. "As in.. ?" Ella fiddled with one of her tools. "Well, I may not be as passionate as some of your little Romulan friends..." She then eeeped loudly as Corran all but pounced on her.

He was laughing as he did so - and to be honest, it was a bit of a trick in the small Jeffries tube. They rolled over into a kiss, with his back on the grating.

As always, he felt swallowed by her - energized just by her touch, her presence, simply being around her. There was, in the back of his over-talkative mind - the little voice of Pad, telling him it wasn't real, it wouldn't last.

You're wrong, Pad, he told that little voice. He didn't know if he was lying to himself, but he didn't care. Moments like this, maid any future pain worth it.

"You know, a buddy of mine, when he was an Ensign, got busted for having sex in the Jeffries tubes." he said in a low, amused voice. "He's a Captain now - or he was, anyway. He always said it was the most fun e ever had getting reprimanded."

"Mmm... let's see if we can get you a nomination for admiral..." Ella began before her eyes narrowed in on a space on the floor by his left ear. "Goddamn that bitch!"

Corran, who's mind - or instincts, rather - had been fairly occupied with other matters, just looked up at her in confusion. "This is hardly the time to bring up my old friends..."

She rolled her eyes and pointed to the floor. "No, I think I just found another one of O'Shea's little presents. Looks like its under the fl... don't move! I don't know what it is yet."

He tried to crane his head, uselessly, to the side to see. "Well, damn." he muttered.

Since she couldn't think of any other way to check the floor without him moving, Ella leaned across him and removed a section of the grating carefully. She couldn't help but appreciate the feeling of solid maleness underneath her and also couldn't help herself from wiggling a little more than was necessary.

Corran's eyes narrowed as he felt himself straining against the fabric, despite the situation, as he realized what she was doing. "Now you're just being mean."

Ella grinned as she studied the device. "But at least you'll die happy."

"Well, I've had worse deaths." he muttered, as he thought about how Grisso had died. That had just been... damned unpleasant. "Any idea what goes under this tube?"

"Uh-huh," Ella replied. It looked like it was on a timer but that it was only programmed to send a signal to disrupt that particular system when the timer ran out. Pain in the ass way to set it up, the engineer thought, but also time consuming to correct, which was probably what O'Shea had wanted.

"And?"

"Well, the good news is that its not a bomb." Ella told him. "The bad news is that if this thing goes off and we suddenly need to go to warp, they'll be cleaning us up with mops."

"IDF field?" he questioned, taking her statement as proof he could finally move. Carefully, they disentangled themselves so that they could both take a look.

The small timer was tapped into the data conduit, but with a junction that kept the control signal from signalling an interruption, which would shut down the warp engines as a safety precaution. "When the timer goes off.." he started.

"The junction sends a fake signal, and the computer thinks the IDF field is still active." she finished for him. "Like I said - mops."

Corran let out a low whistle. That was a tricky bit to pull off, especially with Federation technology.

"Told you she was a bitch." Ella said with a sigh. "I think I'll be late for dinner."

"Me too." he confirmed. "You got this? I'll report to Cass, and then my pilots and flight crews are going to go over every last inch of our fighters."

Ella nodded and moved to start working on the device again. Guess she'd just have to prove she was more passionate than those Romulan women another time.

"A Warm Welcome…Could Be Hotter Than You Think."

SCPO. Renora Loret, Tactical Analyst

*****************************************************************

Looking out of the window Renora could see the planetary body that was known as Romulus. The cantina was buzzing with energy but it could have been empty for all the attention she was paying it.

The Captains message had just finished and her mind was already on other things, many other things.

The whole thing had the potential to become a logistical nightmare. She'd seen the reports coming out of the capitol. Crowds of angry demonstrators, political tensions on a knife-edge, the threat of full-scale violence ever present. Some things never changed.

The way she saw it was that they were being set up for a fall by someone, or maybe someones, plural. She could understand the tensions fine enough but the situation was more than just that. Something wasn't right; she counted the points off to herself.

One; a federation ship is invited to the heart of Romulan space, a rare occurrence and the first since the Titan in'79.

Two; crews were being invited down to the planet, provided they passed the security screen, which, at least to her mind, was totally unprecedented, a fact that was making her more than a little apprehensive.

Three; the security screen itself. She could understand their reasons, security would be tight at both the funeral and key locations like the senate and consulates but…with the information provided by them anyone could pick out a way to inflame the situation…you just had to find the right people to lean on.

Four; did the Romulans have any idea that there were 300 Jem'Hadar on the Galaxy? She didn't think so but if they did they were keeping it quiet. Romulans were slow to forget and the Dominion war had had huge impacts on both their overt and covert military. Could it be a trump card they'd be waiting to play?

She wondered how Henderson would handle it? He'd been made Captain, to some degree at least, out of necessity and was new to the role. Then there was Kol, their last meeting hadn't been the calmest of exchanges and, with the captain off ship and Klingon first officer in charge…well…Klingons and Romulans…need she say more. Major T'Riasau was another worry, was his role here simply one of babysitter for a cloaking device? A bit of a lowly task for a Major in the intelligence service she thought.

She shook herself back to the waking world. Conspiracy theories, cover ups, crosses and double crosses. Maybe it was just being so close to the Romulan home world but she could definitely feel the taste of betrayal in the air.

“Fraternal Bonds”

Ensign Keldan, Operations Officer

Message Transcript Reads as Follows

Communication Sent Talaria CONNSat Marpen 33.2232 [Stardate 50603.12
09:35:07]
AccountKey Verified
Received from wotanserveradmin22.relaysensor4 on ESSDP ([12.399.002.3])
X-Originating alphaquad012.22
Received by alphagalsite-list.wotansector [8.10.2]
Received by alphagalsite-list.solsector [8.11.1]
Received by betagalsite-list.solsector [8.11.2]
Received by betagalsite-list.tarodsector [8.12.8]
X-Destination betaquad044.03
Message Received USSGalaxy Stardate 50605.04 12:22:01
Universal Translator Disabled [Native Text Format]
Content Encoding Enabled

Recipient: Keldan, Ensign, Operations Officer, USS Galaxy
Sender: Thordan, Commander, Second Officer, TPS M’olnar
Subject: [None]

Brother,

Word has come to me that you have finally received assignment aboard a Federation vessel. It was much to my surprise to hear that you had left the human’s world and that you had received a posting as an operations officer aboard the flagship of the mighty Federation, no less. I was in contact with Ragnan and we were in total agreement that knowing that since our brother had been posted to a position of such responsibility and prestige, we should all sleep the better for it.

It was unfortunate you could not be on Talaria for Torin’s and Triest’s binding ceremony. They did leave a seat open for you during the exchange ritual, as is traditional. It was odd that your absence was not discussed, though I am sure it probably had something to do with the fact you were near death at the time and no one wanted to bring such dark thoughts to a time filled with so much joy, reverence and revelry. Triest looked the radiant bride and Torin the champion of the hour.

When you get a chance, please drop a line to mother. She does worry about you and I get a constant barrage of questions as to your well being and disposition. She has proved quite vexing at times as the loneliness of her life apart from father and the ever-growing senility of old age takes a grip on her. I have tried to make her understand that she probably knows more of your current situation than I since she still maintains a regular acquaintanceship with Triest despite the separation of our two Houses.

It is a pity that we cannot stay in closer contact, but that is difficult since this communication will no doubt take weeks, if not months, to reach you since you are in the far reaches of the ‘Beta Quadrant’. Be sure to let me or your brother know when you may be coming a bit closer to home in the future and we will be sure to receive you with all the honors due your station.

Thordan

Reply Mode Active
Universal Translator Disabled
Text Coding Talarian Character Set Enabled
AccountKey Verified

Recipient: Thordan, TPS M’olnar
Sender: Keldan, USS Galaxy
Subject: [None]

My Dearest Brother,

It was so good to hear from you. Thank you for your words of encouragement as I work my way through this difficult transitional period.

I’m also quite delighted to see that you are making your own mark in the service of the Talarian Patriarchy. Commanding officer of the M’olnar. Quite an achievement for a second-born. Please do not think me a dullard in my confusion, however, as I thought it was customary that a second-born be awarded his slain brother’s rank and position. Why were you not promoted to commanding officer of the M’olnar? Do you think someone may have found out about that incident so long ago on Desscar IV with the prostitute that turned out to be Admiral Raynar’s daughter? I certainly hope it hasn’t held you back in achieving everything you so richly deserve.

In regard to mother, you will be much relieved to hear that I have been sending her regular communiqués since I first left Talaria. I have found her letters to me neither vexing nor edged with senility; on the contrary, I think she has recovered well from father’s death and has determined to make the most of her remaining years. While I have not encouraged it, I am glad to hear that she and Triest continue to correspond. Mother always found Triest’s viewpoints on matters of state enlightening and forward-thinking. I am sure that father would be proud to know that the woman who faithfully ran his house and bore his sons was being well-looked after by his remaining family.

Perhaps in your next letter you will let me know more about the great matters of import you must deal with on a daily basis. As for me at the moment there are too many to list. I have not been aboard the Galaxy even half a standard year and already events around me are transpiring which may have serious repercussions across known space. But I know that must pale in comparison to your duties as an officer aboard a warship. Tell me, who are the Talarians at war with nowadays, anyway?

I am sorry this message must be so brief, but I do have important duties to perform. I am sure by the time I receive your next letter I will just have years of events to catch up with you over. I look forward to it. In the meantime, I hope you will do everything you can not to get yourself horribly killed like Lokan or father. With the coffers of our House so bloated as of late, the wailing from the keener’s guild would be positively deafening, even from so far away as the Beta Quadrant.

Keldan

Ens. Artim - Security Corpsman
Ens. T'Rei - Security

"Meeting of the Lab Rats"

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

Sitting in ten forward, T'Rei spotted Artim across the way. Motioning him over, she smiled as he advanced. "Hey...." the ensign replied.

Artim looked the human who was motioning him over quizzically at first. He recognized her as one of his coworkers in security. However, he'd been avoiding the woman for another even more unusual reason. Back when he was at Penn, he'd read a paper from some Vulcan xenopsychologists on whether terrans could be 'programmed' with the vulcan ability to suppress emotion. The topic was only somewhat interesting to him, but the fact that they were using a live human subject was extremely unusual. He was so interested that he kept up with papers as they were published. He never thought he'd meet the "lab rat". Artim didn't like thinking about T'Rei that way, but it was difficult not to.

"Hi." Artim said with a bit of trepidation in his voice.

"Care to sit?" Artim had drawn her curiosity the first time she saw him at security de-briefing.

"I suppose." Artim said as he pulled up a chair.

"I just wanted to make your acquaintance. My name is T'Rei. I believe that it would benefit us to get to know each other if we ever are required to work with each other."

"Not a bad idea. I'm also rather used to being a...curiosity amongst new crew members. At least we have one thing in common...", Artim's curiosity was getting the better of him. He wondered if she even knew she was... She had to know, I mean, it was unethical on most civilized planets, Vulcan included, to experiment on people without their consent.

"Is there something on your mind?" She could sense that he was nagged by something as he sat across the table from her.

Dammit, she was going there. He didn't want to upset her, she probably didn't know about the papers. Artim knew how it felt to be prodded and used for science. At least they told him what they were doing.

"Well, its just...I read about you. I...know what you had to go through..."

"How would you know about me? I've only been here a few weeks." The quizzical look on her face was not lost on him as she paused for a moment and took a sip of her coffee. "Um, I didn't go through anything..........." Setting down her mug, she cocked her head to the side. "Artim, what are you talking about?"

"I...you know about...I mean the people who...they told you right?" T'Rei muttered.

Artim didn't want to come out and tell his coworker he knew a lot about her, not as a person but as an experiment. There was something more disturbing coming from this. If he was right he'd have their ears mounted on the wall of the Vulcan Science Directorate.

T'Rei immediately straightened her posture to an extremely rigid stance. He knew something that she did not know. "What people?" Her anger at his lethargic way in explaining what he was talking about was starting to show on her facial features.

Artim sighed like a prisoner about to give a confession. "T'Rei, I heard about you in a research paper written by the Vulcans who raised you. They even won awards for the research, important ones."

Silence erupted violently between them. She spoke quietly, with emotion bubbling just beneath the surface of her words. "You are telling me, that you have seen documents that prove that I was an experiment?" Her demeanor turned stoic, yet again. 'Contain it T'Rei' She told herself. 'Do not expose yourself now.' She held her saucer, and as she lifted the tea cup, it shook, spilling some of the tea on the table. Putting the china down, she quickly retrieved a napkin to clean the spill.

"Several. I first heard about the project from a fellow professor during my teaching days. I was so intrigued I kept up on the papers that were published about..well...you. They never used your name but the minute I met you I knew enough to do some checking. From your reaction I'm assuming you didn't know."

"I received a document last week concerning the research, however, I could not locate the source where the document came from. I chose to deny it. You are telling me that you are positive about this?"

"Absolutely. '77 Araga Medallion submission is perhaps the best known, should be in the computer. Dang bastards beat me out that year." Artim replied

"I see. I hope you feel better knowing those 'bastards' beat you with a little girl who thought she was loved." She stood to leave. Her eyes were the only thing about her that gave a hint of emotion as they misted over. "If you'll excuse me, I gotta go." "I see, and I'm sorry if I upset you. I'm willing to help. I know what it feels like to be used. " She turned her attention back to him. "Thank you.........." As she exited, the slight slump of defeat in her posture was noticeable. The ensign just wanted to be alone at this moment. The feeling that she felt was best exhibited in private.

"I'll Take The Kitchenette"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell, Engineering
Lt. Tarin Iniara, Operations Chief

*****Operations Office*****

Nara sat in the waiting room for when Tarin could see her. She was sure the woman had tons of requisitions. So that was part of why she never pushed the issue of getting a new quarters assignment. But since the change in command and she realized she was not near the front of the line to be promoted above junior officer, the prospect of getting a new assignment that way could be long in coming.

That's why she was prepared to be sweet and even bribe the woman with repairing whatever she needed on her off-duty time. A little free engineering work in exchange for expediating her quarters reassignment request. Somehow she doubted that would work. If the fact that she had become a foster to a Trill refugee and housed said girl in a suite meant for only two people.

Bran could keep it. After all, she wasn't the one that brought a ten-year old back from an away mission. Nara would even settle for a smaller two-room suite if needed. She just wanted Saia to have a room of her own. She slept in Nara's room, but it wasn't really hers. Nara was sure Saia sometimes didn't like looking at the weapons on the walls.

*****

As per usual, Lieutenant Tarin was holed up in her office, concentrating on her desktop console as if her life depended on it. Brow knit in frustration she jabbed at the screen, scanning whatever information it was now showing her.

"Chief." The voice went in one ear and right out the other.

A few moments later, "Hey, Chief."

Her focus broken, Iniara looked up towards her yeoman, who had somehow appeared without her realizing it. "Vince, how long have you been standing there?"

"About a minute, Chief. You busy?"

"Um, yeah." Iniara waved a hand towards the console, and the stack of padds sitting nearby. "Why, what's up?"

"Well, that woman from Engineering is still waiting to see you..."

Iniara arched an eyebrow. "Did you tell me about that?" When Vince nodded she sighed, a bit of color creeping into her cheeks. "Oh. Send her in, I guess."

While she waited for him to return she stood, taking a moment to gather the discarded mugs that littered her workspace and return them to the replicator. It wasn't much improvement to the cluttered office, but it was something.

"Chief, Lieutenant Roswell from Engineering to see you."

Iniara turned and gave the woman a sheepish smile. "Come on in, Lieutenant.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting; it's been a bit...hectic lately. Can I get you something?"

Nara nodded, "I understand and no thanks."

"Suit yourself," Iniara half shrugged, then turned to the replicator anyway and ordered up another mug of raktajino for herself. Setting the mug of steaming coffee onto her desk she then grabbed the edge of the desk and lowered herself carefully into a sitting position. "So, what can I do for you?"

"I was just wanting to see about a new room assignment. I don't know if you knew, but when we left Trill, I became foster to a young girl that was orphaned. I still have the same assignment as when I came aboard. Which isn't bad, but there are three of us in a two room suite." Nara didn't want to tell her life story, but the situation had to be understood.

"Oh. Well, in that case..." Iniara paused for a moment. "You do know that when you became a foster parent, you could have requested assignment to a residential apartment?"

Nara blinked, "No, I didn't know. It happened pretty much impromptu."

"Better late than never, I suppose," Iniara replied. "Okay, quick overview. The residential apartments are all concentrated on Decks Six and Seven. They're a bit different from standard quarters in that each bedroom has its own adjacent bathroom, the common areas are a bit larger, and they can be configured with a larger kitchenette than is normally allowed in standard quarters."

The Ops Chief tapped a few buttons on her console, scanning the information it presented. "Looks like we have a few two bedroom suites left open, and one with the aforementioned kitchenette. The common room in that one is smaller because of it, but..." She shrugged. "Your choice."

Nara blinked again. A larger suite? She felt really foolish for not having pushing this before. Then it hit her that Bran would no longer be her roomate. She sighed considering they never really saw each other anyway and focused her thoughts on deciding on the kitchenette or larger common room.

It would be nice to be able to cook for Saia. Maybe even look up some Trill recipes and teach her to cook them. There was also the idea of cooking for Saul. She smiled at Tarin, embarrased she had yet to answer.

"Take your time." Iniara smiled. The range of emotions people gave off when they were changing quarters never ceased to amaze her.

She sighed deciding having a kitchenette would make it more of a "house" and felt it would be more fair to Saia not to live in a dorm-like room. "The one with the kitchenette."

Iniara nodded, turning back to her console once more. "You'll be on Deck Seven, Section 25. I'll need to send in a maintenance team for inspection before you move in...make sure everything still works and all that. You'll receive a memo once that's done, and then the place is yours."

Nara dumbly nodding, not really expecting it to be so easy, or fast.

"Shouldn't be more than a few hours," the Chief replied, picking up a nearby padd. She tapped it a few times, then turned it around to face Nara. "This is the official reassignment request. All I need now is for you to authorize it."

Nara stared at it and finally smiled. It was just a simple quarters reassignment, but it felt big to her at the moment. She suddenly realized she had to repack. She quickly signed before she changed her mind. This was best for Saia.

"No rush on the packing," Iniara told her as she synched the padd with her desktop console. "We're not in the business of running people out of their homes...unless of course they deserve it." The Chief grinned mischievously.

"Anyway. Like I said, you'll get a notification when your new quarters are ready. If you have items that you need help moving, just contact Main Ops when you're ready and we'll send whoever is available to assist. Now, what am I forgetting..." The Chief tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Do you have any questions or concerns?"

Nara just sighed, "Don't confirm this yet. I just realized I may need to talk to my room-mate." She suddenly realized it would be a jerky thing to do to move out without so much as giving Bran an option of coming or not. It wasn't up to Nara to decide whether what was best in the situation. She really didn't mind Bran coming or not. Saul and she could just meet in his room...if he ever let her in his room again.

(OOC: Takes place shortly before 'Danger Abounds')

"Coulda Shoulda Woulda, Part I"

Lt. (JG) 8-ball Hunter Chief Science Officer and a hottie of Astronomical proportions

Lieutenant Saul Bental Chief Tactical Officer and the Galaxy's James Bond

8-ball had just gotten off after a particularly long shift in Sciences and was lying in her bed, contemplating what she wanted to do. A sonic shower had definite appeal, but then so did just lying around and doing absolutely nothing more strenous than breathing. She had just decided that she was far too lazy to be bothered with silly things like showers when the door chimed.

"Come in," 8-ball said, not bothering to move in the slightest.

The man that entered the room was wearing a civilian T-Shirt with windmill on it, and asly smirk that she would recognize anyhwere.

8-ball looked up. "Saul!" she said in her best, teenage, oh-my-god-that-boy-is-so-cute voice. This was mostly due to 8-ball's love of trying to freak out Saul whenever humanely possible, but truth be told 8-ball was actually ecstatic to see her friend back. She didn't have that many friends and this was sort of a trying time for her, what with frightening dates with Klingons and hallucinations of dead children and doing Starfleet science things. Saul was always good to hang out with---he didn't pry into your secrets because he had too many secrets of his own.

8-ball found all the energy she didn't know she had, and leapt off the bed to give Saul a hug and a big kiss on the cheek. "I've missed you so much!" she exclaimed. "Who was I supposed to tease and annoy while you were gone? It's much better that you're back now. Did you bring me anything?"

Saul thanked god that Nara wasn't there to witness 8-Ball. He had enough trouble with the 'Warrior daughter of Sakaria' without getting 8-Ball into the picture. Although, he couldn't avoid thinking, 'getting 8-Ball into the picture' could be quite interesting--

"Of course, you think I'd go travelling 'abroad' without bringing souveniers?", Saul stated, and drew a small, toy robot from his pocket. It was the product he tried to sell to the Yridian merchant, which he didn't want. Saul and the rest were left with fifty pieces, and could do nothing with them except for bringing them back home in the Backbroken's Reward's cargo bay.

He actually wanted to give one to Bran, too, before she get all melancholic and then smacked him.

"Ta-da!", He presented the robot. "Introducing Marvin, the paranoid minidroid."

Truth was, 8-ball hadn't been expecting anything at all, and was thoroughly looking forward to being able to scold Saul for forgetting about her. But she got a mini robot! A paranoid minidroid, no less! How cool was that! "Excellent!" 8-ball said and took the toy from him. "Someone for Eptgac to play with."

"Eptgac?", Saul rolled the word on his tounge. The Dutchman found it hard to pronounce. "Is it in Vulcan?"

8-ball rolled her eyes. "Hardly," she said. "Don't you know ANYTHING about me? I don't do Vulcan. Minus the ears, of course. No, Eptgac is anagram. It's short for Evil Plaything Given by Anti Christ. Otherwise known as the teddy bear an exboyfriend gave me. He's my constant companion."

8-ball set Marvin down gingerly next to Eptgac (this was more for Eptgac's sake than Marvin, as it didn't take much these days for Eptgac's head to come flying off) and then sat back on her bed. "So," she said, "you're back. What the hell have you been up to?"

Before he could respond, 8-ball realized that this was probably the most futile question to ask Saul, at least if you expected him to answer honestly. "Nevermind, ex-intelligence officer. You can't tell me, and probably wouldn't if you could, just to irritate me. All right. Come up with some kind of interesting lie, since the truth is likely not as entertaining anyways."

"Let me think of something...", He scratched his chin. "Ah! OK, So this Joe person from FNN contacted me the other days, and he gave me an offer you cannot refuse - to become part of a team that surveys and ranks strip clubs within and outside the Federation. Of course, I'm not at liberty to discuss strip clubs beyond enemy borders for obvious reasons."

"Of course," 8-ball said drily. "So let me get this straight: you got to go on some nifty mission involving strip clubs all around the universe and you didn't bring me? Me, of all, people? Some super spy you are. I could have helped you out a lot." She sighed. "Oh well. What's done is done, I guess."

"AND I didn't take any photos.", Saul noted. "Not of strippers, at least."

"I'd ask to see them, but you wouldn't let me anyways," 8-ball said.

Then she smiled mischeviously. "So," 8-ball said, "while you were out there, perusing the various strip clubs and watching all the dancers, did you learn any new tricks to try out with Nara later tonight?"

Saul snorted, and seem to be quite at loss for a few moments. This amused 8-ball to no end. . .it wasn't entirely easy to stop Saul's quick comebacks, and 8-ball always gave herself a good 30 seconds of mental gloating when she did.

Then, he finally said, "Naa, if I wanted advice, I wouldn't have needed to go hiking around sleazy bars all over the quadrant. Why go through all the effort when I can hop by your quarters and ask for tips?"

8-ball laughed despite herself. "Point Bental," she said, and smiled at him. "So, come on, man, what's new? How are things going with, uh, Nara and Tactical and life and stuff?"

"With Nara everything's good, umm... we're still getting used to each other. If you recall from the Academy days, I was a lone wolf so everything with her is kinda new. Plus I brought to the Galaxy a guest from the trip--", He was tempted to add that 8-Ball would like her, but thought of Eve finding herself in a 'girls night' with 8 and her friends convinced him to hold his tounge, "-- so she's staying around for a little bit. Tactical? Don't know. You know how it is. I'm expected to press the big red button while the rest of the crew are holding bets for how long will I survive in the post."

"A hell of a lot longer than I will," 8-ball said drily. "I'm surprised I'm still here." ~Barely~ she thought about adding, but decided against it. She didn't want this conversation to get too serious. There was little point in that. 8-ball pushed away her brooding thoughts and reconcentrated on what Saul was saying. . .she had missed a sentence or two.

"But knowing you.", Saul smirked nastily, "I'm sure that your stories are MUCH more interesting, and may include genuine strippers..."

"Coulda Shoulda Woulda" - part II (Woulda? Or maybe Shoulda?)

Lt. (JG) 8-ball Hunter Chief Science Officer and a hottie of Astronomical proportions

Lieutenant Saul Bental Chief Tactical Officer and the Galaxy's officially most sneaky character

* * * 8-Ball's quarters * * *

"--I'm sure that your stories are MUCH more interesting, and may include genuine strippers..."

8-ball thought about this. "That's true," she said. "My stories probably are more interesting. And I think I do have a few with strippers. . .there may even be a story where I'm not the one on the pole. Hmm . . . I suppose I could reenact some of those tales for your viewing pleasure. Only I'm sure you're not so interested in any of that, are you? Of course not. I'm going to get something to drink. Want something?"

"Orange juice. Extra cold. And I'm a male, 8 - so don't tempt me.", Saul Bental chuckled.

"Of course not," 8-ball said with a smile, and walked over to the replicator to get the drinks. She handed Saul his drink, her hand brushing the side of his... accidentally or not, 8-ball wasn't sure. She liked Saul, probably a little more than she should have considering she was sort of friends with Nara, and she had entertained thoughts of what things might have been like between them more than once. Nevertheless, she was totally unprepared for what happened when her skin connected with his.

The room never faded away, and there was no feeling of movement. 8-ball was just suddenly on her back with Saul on top of her, his hands pulling down her uniform, her hands sliding down his back. She could literally feel the sheets moving under her, her legs spread under his, his breath exhaled over her. . .

And then she was back standing in front of him, as if nothing had happened, with the glass still in her hand. It fell and shattered on the floor as 8-ball took a gigantic step back, stumbled, and nearly fell on her ass. "What the FUCK was THAT?"

"Are you alright?", Saul knelt next to her, and looked concerned. Or rather, more concerned than he seemed to be just a moment before, when he was naked and on top of her.

"No, I am not all right," she snapped, and brushed her hand through her hair. Obviously, whatever the hell she had experienced wasn't real, and while she did on occasion hallucinate things, naked Saul wasn't usually one of them. A fantasy that vivid . . .

~. . .but it wasn't mine~ 8-ball thought to herself, and the instant she thought it, she knew it was true. 8-ball's fantasies never included the man on top, and she prided herself on her imagination and creativity. . .her bed simply wasn't the place she'd have bothered thinking about. The Captain's chair or in front of the Warp Core, maybe, but her quarters? It wasn't happening.

~And it happened when I touched his hand~

8-ball swallowed and let herself gently sink to the ground. "Okay," she said. "Um, yeah, this is, yeah, a weird question, but you weren't just happening to be daydreaming about, you know, having sex with me, like, right here, were you?

Saul's eyes grew wide momentarily, but then he came up with another witty answer. "Of course I did. It's my favorite past time."

What he really wanted to say was 'Shit shit SHIT, how did you know??', but that would probably be the wrong thing to say and would make at least two women want to remove his private parts without sedation, preferably using a rusted Bat'leth as a surgical aid.

8-ball shook her head. "Saul, I need you to be straight with someone for just once in your life. Please. Just. . .I need to know if what I just saw was. . ." She broke off, because she wanted to ask if what she saw was real, but real wasn't the right word. "Look, I was talking to you and I touched your hand and then I got this flash and it was like it was really happening and. . .please just be honest with me. Just this once."

"This must be like the strangest way to flirt - ever." Saul tried to joke, but seeing 8-Ball's expression he decided to drop it. He knew the lively science officer since the two of them were cadets, and she never, NEVER looked as serious as she was at that moment.

"You promise not to tell?", He asked sheepishly.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," 8-ball said drily. And then added, "Well, not really, but yeah, I won't tell."

"Well, errrr... I confess. You can't blame me, with your, ummm, reenactment ideas."

There was also the little problem with Nara and her trauma, which left him - as he admitted to himself - somewhat frustrated. But that's not the kind of things he wished to discuss with 8-Ball, or any other person.

He suddenly realized that she might somehow pick up this thought as well.

"Forgive me?", He begged meekly.

"Well, of course," 8-ball said. She found that she was starting to get her equilibrium back . . .at least a little. . .and she found Saul's timidity a little amusing. "I'm not the type to get offended if a guy's daydreaming about me. I'd be more offended if you didn't think about me. It's just. . .this is hugely, amazingly weird. I mean, I'm not, you know, psychic. Like at all. And this. . .this is just very, very strange. I didn't mean to invade your thoughts or anything. I know that kind of thing would annoy me. I just don't know what the hell's happening."

She sighed, put her head in her hand, and laughed lightly to herself. ~I so don't need this right now~ she thought, and looked up at Saul. "You should probably go," 8-ball told him. "Wouldn't want to explain to Nara what you did for so long in little 8-ball's quarters."

Saul grinned. "I'm not worried. I entered your room more than five minutes ago, so as far as the USS Rumor Mill is concerned we already had sex. Thrice."

He tried to resist any thoughts following the scenario he proposed. No need for 8-Ball to pick anything like that again.

"Did you pick anything else beside the, errr, stray thought?"

"You mean, did I pick up any nasty little secrets about your covert plans to take over the universe? No. And I wouldn't tell you if I had. I don't feel like getting murdered in my sleep." 8-ball put her hands over her face, rubbed it, and kicked her feet irritably on the ground. "Why doesn't God like me?" she demanded, more to her quarters than to Saul. "I don't NEED this."

"You know, this is not the first time it happens to me.", Saul admitted.

8-ball looked up suddenly. "Really? Some other busy half Vulcan hear your depraved fantasies?"

"Not quite. There was a marine officer on board, an Echani - Rayne Sutea. She studied with us on the academy. I had a similar experience with her on the third or fourth year... and I suspect she didn't tell me all the truth about it."

"That's so excellent!" 8-ball said, which may not have been the appropriate reaction, but 8-ball was never really about appropriate reactions. She leapt up from the floor and kissed Saul on the cheek. Then she backed up really quickly.

"Okay, maybe touching is not the best of ideas right now," 8-ball said. "But still! That means that maybe, for once, this isn't about my brain going wacky! Yes! I love you Saul! But only in a strictly friendship with no benefits way, not while your dating my occasional drinking buddy. There's a whole sister code thing."

"I love you too, in a 'Let's-not-tear-our-clothes-and-have-wild-sex-like-horny-alley-cats-sort-of-way.", Saul replied.

"I don't think a man's ever loved me in that way before," 8-ball said lightly, and briefly thought of being back on the planet with the Jem'Hadar. There, she and Nara had been running away from the bad guys when something had happened. . .they had telepathically spoken. And that was immensely strange because Vulcans were touch telepaths at best, and she certainly wasn't at best. She was pretty much a null with psychic potential because the last time she had tried anything with it was when she was imprisoned under her mother's logical, totalitarian rule on Vulcan. Later, the ability had gone, and 8-ball thought maybe it had something to do with the massively weird crap that was going on in that world, but now. . .

No. This had happened to Saul before. This was just her bad luck. 8-ball refused to believe that there was anything else involved. It was all, all Saul's problem. So ha.

"So. . .I can't tease Nara at all?" 8-ball said. "It could be kind of fun."

Saul shook his head sharply. "She's very... touchy about these things. You know, an old fashioned girl. Let's say that I doubt she'd be interested in ménage a trois if we proposed it to her."

8-ball sighed. "How sad. Well, if you were limited to a merely a threesome, you'd probably pick Nara and Branwen anyway. That's okay. I'll find my own fun."

Saul continued to look a little serious, and 8-ball laughed. "I promise I won't blow the whistle on your naughty, naughty daydreams. Though it seems pretty harmless to me; I mean, it wasn't like you were actually fucking me or anything. Well, it did kind of seem like that. Anyway. This feels awkward, huh? Dammit. Post-sex awkward I can deal with. Post telepathic-sex-thoughts awkward is just weird. Do you know what time it is?"

Saul slanted his eyes toward the chronometer. "Why, five past nine. I'm glad I caught you before your bridge shift..."

"Well, not entirely," 8-ball said. "It started five minutes ago. Fuck. Okay, that means I have to run away now, but that's okay. Now that you're back on the ship, we can promise to do this again sometime without the whole telepathy fantasy bit, and we'll be good and not the next victims of the vengeful wrath of Naranda Roswell. 'Kay?"

Saul gave a non-committing shrug. "Sure thing."

"Good," 8-ball said as she very quickly threw on her shoes that had been hiding under her bed. "Now I get to go up to the bridge and have people yell at me. Again. My life just keeps getting better." She looked at him with a bit of a smile. "I'm glad you're back," she told him honestly. "Now get out."

Saul spun on his heels, gave a mock salute, and headed toward the door.

"Oh, and 8?", He spoke up as the door slid to reveal the corridor.

"Yeah, sugar?"

"It could've been fun, couldn't it?", He grinned.

8-ball winked. "Boy," she said, "you have no IDEA how much."

"Quiet Day"


Lieutenant (JG) John Morris (APC)
Security Officer

****
Security Office, Deck 39
****

The Security office was eerily quiet for the middle of Alpha shift. Not a sole within, bar himself. Unusual, but John didn't mind one iota. The peace gave him time to review the latest goings on back home. Despite not being the Chief Executive any more, John had been finding himself constantly keeping track of the goings on within the company. Typing in a few commands in the console, the latest report appeared on the screen. Only a single page this time, the report barely covered the appointment of a new Administrative Assistant from Mars and the two new contracts that they had picked up for Starfleet. The week had been a little slow, not like the past few months which had been the complete opposite..

Business was booming, and the company had been going from strength to strength, winning contracts for all sorts of technical gadgets and applications. And it all pleased the aging Terran. It was his slice of the universe, and he wanted so much to be able to pass it on to his children someday, even if one of them didn't even want to talk to him anymore.

He reached up to massage the back of his neck. It was very stiff these days. Perhaps that was why the boss had seen fit to post him here, rather than out and about on the ship guarding the Jem'Hadar guests. He highly doubted that it was his age. Perhaps it was the slight beer belly he sported. Perhaps one of his children had one day pissed Corgan off when he was last on Terra. Who knew. John was damn sure he looked more menacing than that new guy, Artim. The Ensign might be old, ancient even, but he looked awfully young. Still it was kinda peaceful in the office, and from what he had found in his short time aboard, those times were few and far between on the Galaxy.

It had been damn quiet so far. Heck, the most excitement his old bones had seen during the day was the announcement the Captain had made about being in orbit around ch'Rihan. Not that he would get to go down to the planet. Corgan would probably keep him aboard to look after things. Especially with the Jem'Hadar here. John was pretty sure that the Jem'Hadar wouldn't be allowed to go down to the planet, but that was to be seen.

With an audible groan escaping from his lips, he managed to stand up from the chair. Three hours straight in that chair was too much for his old bones. After several stretches to work the kinks out of his muscles, he made his way over to the replicator. "Black Coffee, Hot." The beverage appeared under a shimmer of light, steam rising from the mug that now resided in the empty cavity of the replicator. Taking a sip, he sighed contently. "That's a damn good brew." He said absentmindedly to the empty room. Making his way to the nearby couch, he placed his mug of coffee on the side table before plopping himself on the couch with yet another contented sigh.

Closing his eyes, he took a long slow breath, letting the moment flow over him like an ocean wave. It was something he had been doing more often these days. Reflecting on the wonderful life he had been given, the wonderful family that he had been blessed with, a the joy he found even now, so long after Kate had passed on. Ten years almost had passed since she had died and with the help of his loving children, he had found the courage and the will to continue on.

John reached over and picked up the PADD sitting next to his mug. The device was one of the technologies that his company had been contracted to improve, though nothing was likely to be even remotely ready for initial prototype for a year at the earliest. The Admiral who was spearheading it had asked for it to be designed and built from scratch rather than try and upgrade the current PADD. John didn't mind, as a contract is a contract and it was worth a fairly sizeable amount of credits.

Tapping a couple of buttons brought the latest Security deployment report to the screen. John scanned the short list. He snorted at the list. They were woefully understaffed. At least to John they were. The Alexander, where he had last been had had twice that number. And she had been a smaller vessel. And since they were in the middle of Romulan space, they weren't likely to get new recruits any time soon. "We'll just have to make do." John mumbled to himself.

Yes, it had been a very quiet day!

Ens. Artim - Security Medic
Cmdr. Karyn Dallas - Cheif Counsellor/Second Officer

"Fear Of a Name"

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

Counseling was always something that Artim found to be a necessary evil. He hated spilling his guts, but at the same time it did help, especially in times like this. Going "home" to the holodeck wasn't helping like it used to, that and it was time for his routine session after a departmental transfer. So he was headed to Dallas' office for an appointment before going on duty. Hitting the door chime, he waited for a response, poorly attempting to stifle his anxiety.

As was her custom, Karyn met Artim at the door and smiled. It still surprised her at times to see a grown man who looked like a ten year old in a Starfleet uniform. Of course, for Karyn that was like calling the kettle black, and she felt a twinge of guilt as she considered moving her hoverchair to allow him entry. "Hello, Artim. Please, come in." She'd helped treat him long ago when they rescued him and she remembered how vulnerable he looked to her then "Thanks", Artim said as he came in and took a seat. He'd remembered her being one of the first people that had pulled him out of the damaged fighter he'd flown out to the Galaxy. The Miran had been mainly seeing Brian since he'd gotten here, but he didn't mind seeing Dallas.

Karyn gestured for him to take a seat anywhere he felt comfortable in her reception area. "Can I get you anything?"

Sitting down in the most comfortable looking chair he could find Artim replied, "No thanks mam."

Dallas nodded, and took up position in front of him. "I should say I'm not trying to step on Brian's toes here, and if you'd rather wait to see him, that's fine. It occured to me, however, we hadn't talked much since your rescue. I just wanted to follow-up, see how you were doing, really."

"That's fine. From what I here Brian's had it pretty hard lately himself. And overall I think I'm fine. It's just been difficult lately." ,Artim replied.

"The transfer you mean?" Karyn asked.

"Mostly. I have to say I really wasn't ready for that. I'm not used to the way Corgan runs things. Haven't been subject to that sort of style since, well, I'm not supposed to talk about that job."

Dallas frowned, her curiosity piqued. "This isn't an official session right now, but regardless, if you'd like to talk about some things, as long as you're not going to harm others and you're not involved in an ongoing crime, it'll stay between us."

Artim chuckled a bit "That was decades ago commander and don't worry, it wasn't anything illegal. Still though, I'm a scientist first and foremost. Corgan's command style...doesn't really sit well with me. Even since I joined the fleet I've not been subjected to...that."

Dallas smiled. "I understand what you mean. I'd take offense to being called a weak bleeding heart just because of what I do for Starfleet, but I know healers and scientists have different mindsets. I thank God for that. It takes all kinds. Have you talked to Corgan about how you feel?"

"In all honesty mam, I'm afraid to. He's not exactly the approachable type." , the Miran was reluctant to admit it, but he was a bit scared of Corgan.

Karyn replied gently, "I mean no disrespect, Artim, but if you are to protect others here, you have to work past your fear, especially of people on the same side. Has Corgan threatened you or done anything improper?"

"No mam. And I think the solution is simple, I'm not cut out for security. I really wish I was, in the end, I'm not. I'm meant work with microscopes and bone knitters, not a phaser."

"But aren't you doing that as well as the HT's medic?"

"The phaser there is for defense. I can fight but, well, I hate it. It was something I was forced to do and I had to get good at. I volunteered for Hazard duty to offer my skills where I thought they'd be useful, not because I like it."

"And I have no doubt you're useful as a medic, Artim. Just think, it can now be you responding to damaged shuttles rather than clusmy me."

"Yeah, that's true. But every time I've really had to fight, I've been forced into it. DS5, Tru'haran, the inter.." Artim stopped himself before he mentioned his time as a POW.

"What were you going to say?" Karyn answered. There was obviously something on his mind.

"I've talked enough about that particular experience commander, I really don't want to discuss it again." , Artim replied with a hint of aggressiveness in his voice

Dallas held up her hands. "Fine. I'm just not in the habit of ignoring what people say. I sensed something was on your mind."

Artim sighed a bit and said, "It's OK, I just really don't like talking about my past for obvious reasons. I got another 7,000 years to look forward to, what happened 10, 20, or 200 years ago doesn't really matter much does it?"

Karyn shrugged. "You tell me.

"I don't think so or else I'd be talking about it."

Dallas shrugged again. She hadn't wanted to step on toes with Brian anyway. "Alright. Well, it sounds like you do feel forced to act, perhaps as in the past. But you could have refused the transfer.

"I thought I'd try it out, that's why I didn't refuse it. I...don't think its working though."

Dallas nodded. "Maybe you could meet with Brian and discuss how to speak with Corgan. I'd offer to help, but as I said, I don't want to step on toes. Talk with him."

"I will, thanks. I have to be going."

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