Why am I here?

Ensign Zev Raynor
USS Galaxy

can you hear the calling of the raving wind and water? we just keep dreaming of the land 'cross the river we are always on the way to find the place we belong wandering to no where, we're paddling down the raging sea

who can cross over such raving wind and water? on the rolling boat we sit, shivering with coldness come by an island, come by a hillock, it's just another place, we paddle on down the raging sea

but in one morning we'll see the sun bright shining morning dew singing they who will search will find the land of evergreen

can you hear the calling of the raving wind and water? we just keep paddling down the sea, up the river no destination, but we are together in the silent sadness we're paddling down the raging sea down to no where

-To Nowhere .hack//SIGN soundtrack

Zev repeated to this song over and over again in his head... His mind was blank yet full of so many thoughts he couldn't keep track of them all... none of his usual good cheer or stupidity was there... Zev had a flare for acting overly stupid and hopeless cheerful 99% of the time. But that was all it was a well done act that people believed was the real him. Being looked upon as an idiot in the intelligence world had its advantages... no believed he knew anything worth knowing. Even basic things he pretended not to know... A persons name before he met them.

Spooks were famous for knowing everything about you before they actually came into contact with you. And Zev did know it, but he never let on he knew it. He also wandered the hallways as if lost, always ending up in areas that he didn't have any purpose, playing someone with the worse sense of direction ever. And unless there was a specific crisis on, he always made a point of waltzing in late. So he could be wherever, whenever and it would be taken as given that it was just Raynor the idiot being stupid.

He acted like he was naturally someone who was loud and weird and on occasion funny... someone who needed to be the center of attention yet, when he needed to be so ignorable that no one would bother noticing him, if he didn't make his presence known.

He did this constantly, not just when he needed to know something specific. He could be wherever, whenever, with whoever on board this ship and no one would think any more of it than Zev Raynor being the ship clown/moron. This was the face he presented to the ship, a deception without falsehood in words. But it was a deception, and as such Zev had trouble with it. Maintaining it, was a pain. He couldn't help but feel like some cheap whore...

Of course it was better than being a monster... he hid that part of himself from the world... And it would remain hidden for now... but he felt he would need a washroom. But of course the Intrepid style brig didn't have one so he would settle for pissing against the forcefield.

The counsellor had put him in the brig a while ago... he didn't exactly know when he would be let out, but he didn't particularly care at the moment.

He looked around and thought '24th century brig design... no washrooms, and as soon as power fails the prisoner can walk out. And people think I'm stupid.'

"Timestorm - Part 8"

Michael McDowell
Civilian Engineering Specialist

And

Commander Michael McDowell
Chief Engineer

*** 10 years into the future ***

The blue haze that had engulfed Michael faded away. Deducing from his own experience it was only logical to assume that he and Keldan had been beamed over to some other location. The ride had been rough and it seemed like every muscle of his body ached, like they had each been completely torn apart first and reconnected again. He rubbed his neck in the hope it would lessen the numbing pain.

"Don't worry, it will go away after a while."

Michael stood up and turned quickly, wondering who it was that had addressed him. However, the room he'd found himself in was covered in darkness and he couldn't see a thing, except from some optical wiring hanging loose from the ceiling and a bulkhead that had come down. Michael kept quiet and on his guard.

"Easy pal, you're among friends. There's no reason to be alarmed." the voice said. "Alright, I can imagine the transport came unexpected. My apologies for that. But it was a necessary precaution."

"Precaution for what?" Michael asked. He hadn't a clue what the person was talking about. "And who the heck are you? Show yourself so I can see to who I'm talking to."

Michael could hear the man sigh, like he was not sure if it would be a good idea to reveal himself. A few moments of silence passed before Michael heard footsteps.

"Agreed. I guess it's no use to hide myself from you anyway." A door opened with a hiss and light streamed into the dark room. It almost blinded Michael. He could just see a dark figure walking towards the door.

"Well, come on. We don't have all the time world. At least, not in this universe." The last statement was added with a truly solemn voice.

~In this universe?~ Michael repeated the words in his mind while he stepped of the - what must have been - Transporter pad and walked towards the bright light. The man waited in the doorway. With every step his features became clearer. There was something familiar about him, but Michael didn't know what.

That is, until Michael was only one footstep away. And at that moment it was like he was glued to the floor. He couldn't take one single step, even if he wanted to. "What the...- You are...me...!" Michael said in unbelief. " What is this!? What year is it!?"

"Yes, I know this looks strange to you. Believe me when I say it's just as strange to me to see a younger version of myself standing before me. But just calm down, will you? I'll explain everything."

The younger one of the two took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. He still kept staring at his older self. What the hell was going on?

The older McDowell half turned, intending to walk into the hallway. "Come. Let's leave this place. It's way too dark for my taste."

Michael followed his older self as the walked down the corridor. It was not the clean and tidy hallway he was used to see on the Galaxy, but one that looked like it had been half destroyed by a bomb. You could see blown out plasma conduits, scorched panels hanging loose, and bloodstains on the walls and carpet. "Where are we, what year are we now? And...what happened here?" he managed to say.

"We're on the USS Galaxy-A, or what is left of her. The year is 2393. Unfortunately, in this time period the Federation is at war with the Romulans, hence the state the ship is in. They beat us up pretty badly."

2393? He was beamed through space AND time? Michael took a few moments to process this information. 10 years into the future. He wondered why they had gone through so much trouble. And why him and Keldan? Keldan, where was he? Michael had not seen him in the room with him. "Where is Ensign Keldan? I saw that he was beamed away too."

"He's alright and with Commander Keldan. I assure you, he is in good hands." The older version of Michael turned his head to look at his younger self.

Both men took a left turn and walked into another corridor. At the end they entered a relatively large room where other officers too were going about their business. Everyone of them seemed tense. You could see that from their faces. The older McDowell showed the younger one a door some meters ahead of him. "We can talk in there. I'll join you in a minute."

The other Michael just nodded while he gazed across the room. Being here gave him a surreal feeling. He knew it was real but he had a hard time accepting it. Before Michael entered the room he turned around to look at all the other officers one more time. He shivered. The consequences of war were all too obvious...and it appeared to him like they had lost hope.

*** 1 hour later, Transporter room 3 ***

The door parted with a hiss when both McDowell's entered the Transport room. The younger one noticed Keldan standing on the Transporter Padd and offered him a smile to let him know he was alright. A few words more were exchanged, but it barely registered with Michael. He was too preoccupied with thinking things over. What he was told had made quite an impact on him and the responsibility that came with it bore heavy on his shoulders. Before he knew it both Keldan and he were once again engulfed by that familiar blue haze.

NRPG/OOC : Takes place after the current episode

"Back on the saddle"
By Lieutenant Michael Jamson, Chief Of Ops
USS Galaxy-A

Dead man walking. That was the feeling. Although it was 16:00 hours, it seemed like 0200 as Jamson paced slowly through the humming halls of the USS Galaxy-A. He's been quite busy lately, being promoted to Operations Chief. His first role on the original Galaxy flagship was the one of Chief Ops. He was back where he started at, exactly in the same spot his 'promising' career started its lift off.

Iniara moved along to better things, a role he also used to fill. The desirable Executive and First Officer position. If there was any role he wanted more than sitting in the captain's chair, it was the role of first officer. The executive officer was the link between the captain and the crew members. It was a role with grave responsibilities, but in the end of such a position, there was the much awaited extra pip which promised a command, eventually.

There were all sorts of first officers, some were better than others, and some.well, by the book officers. He used to be one of the latter, but his former commanding officer taught him how to loosen up a bit, which earned him, so he thought, a ship of his own. Tarin would probably belong to the first group. She was a stern Chief and would be more than suitable for such a position, yet she knew when to loosen up.

With all the latest events, he didn't have the time to speak to her in person and congratulate her for the new promotion. Of all the Operations Chiefs he knew over the years, serving on the Galaxy, she was the one who actually deserved it.

Finally, things were starting to go his way, after all these years of 'suffering' under the command of others, much younger than he was, fulfilling unimportant and insignificant positions; he was finally put in charge of something that mattered. He was back on the saddle. That itself put the fear into the heart of the worried proud man. It's been so long he has been given a responsibility of this sort; he didn't know if he was up for it.

The Operations department included many others, such as Tactical, Engineering and Security. That didn't include system usage, allocation, resources such hardware, communications, sensors, storage and much more. He used to fill this assignment so easily, it was in his blood. And still.he couldn't resist being unsatisfied as he always has. Being a 'junior' officer without any liability had its advantages. You did your part, and your part alone, without anyone to exclude your commanding officer to bark and hold you accountable for your actions and your actions alone.

He felt like a dead man walking. The past 24 hours were intense beyond his belief, it has been long since he stayed for more than a couple of shifts one after another. He had a lot of catching up to do. With the upcoming changes around the ship, he had to be prepared.

Lists and dozens of pads were laying on his new desk and office, but he wasn't there. He roamed the ship, instead of sitting down, like he had some sort of restraints on him. It also helped against the fatigue he had developed.

Once again, excitement and enthusiasm stood against the fear of change and obligation. He'd start attending staff meetings, and deal with other senior staff members, and this to itself never proved to be an easy task. All the bickering and excuses, favors and mistreatment of the ships' facilities were now under his very own eyes. At least he hoped his dealings with Tarin would stay the way they were, with a little sarcasm and a lot of work.

No more working on the computer core all alone or schedule a joint session on the matrixes with engineers, he now had people to take care of these things. He forgot what it was like to order people around. He always proved to be a hard boss, but maybe, his age would soften things up. Luckily, for them, he wasn't the young officer eager to prove himself anymore, or was he? Even though he was older, and wiser to his personal opinion, as much as he wanted to advance again through the ranks, something held him back. Maybe it was the responsibility has he thought earlier and over the past several years. Or was it the fear of going through the entire process again, only to fall back and re-experience everything again? Maybe a chat to one of the many counselors onboard would help.

If only Karyn or Shivok could hear his thoughts, they'd rub it into his face and he knew it. He'd never admit to it, but counselors did help him through his rough parts in life. Unknowingly, and suddenly, Michael raised his head from the padd he was browsing. It was so interesting, the listings of the cargo bays and it's inventory. The doors to 10 forward surprised him. How did he get here? 'Must be a sign' he thought to himself before stepping right in. It was time for a little drink.non synthahol, something strong that would keep him awake.

In his days on Earth, back at the Academy he learned of Terran Coffee. His father and grandfather used to drink it back at the outpost and colony where he grew up, or replicate on their 'merchant' type vessel. His mother never touched, and said it was of bad taste and health. Many were oddly addicted to the brown and black liquid. Many of his colleagues back at the Academy were able to stay awake for extended periods of time, drinking coffee. He on the other hand, never touched it, only Raktajinos for him. He tried it, but it proved to be quite strong. Maybe now was the time to try something new.?

"What can I do for you today, sir?" the bartender approached him.

"I want Coffee.? strong! In a big glass" Michael dropped the padd out of his hands and slammed the table, pointing to a beer mug.

"Aye sir." The bartender replied.

Glancing around, he noticed the big mess hall wasn't that occupied. A few officers here and there. Leaving the padd behind him, the moved away from the tall chair in the direction of the famous 10 forward windows, watching the stars. It seems like in a moment's notice, his entire future was about to change without him even noticing it. Who know what the future was holding?

"Tales from the South, Part 1" (The Rihannsu Tangent - sort of)

Lt. (JG) Naranda Sol Roswell
Engineering Officer

Second Lieutenant Steven Jonas
SFMC, Furies Detachment

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief Intelligence Officer

Ensign Faylin McAlister
JAG Officer

Richard North
Consular Attache (NPC - Stuart)

Lieutenant J.G. Nyoko Yuuri
Tactical Officer (NPC - Oded)

**** Angel Moon ****

Nara took another swig of the bottle. It was a drink-straight-from-the-bottle time. That and it was just a bottle of earth beer. German beer at that. She winced having taken in more than she expected and then continued, "Never knew anyone could get so mad about messing up some business deal! I mean enough to sell us off as slaves! I think I hated the wrong species all these years." She was flushed from rehashing the anger she had to hold in during the ordeal itself.

Saul watched her, somewhat bewildered. He had seen Nara in many states - angry, passionate, bored, anxious, vulnerable - but he never saw her drinking. And while it didn't scare him, it definitely disturbed him.

The barman looked strangely at him when he asked orange juice earlier. Now, the cup remained half full, as Saul's attention was on Nara's beverage rather than his own.

"That's how Ferengi are. And if to be honest, I don't take it likely when someone screws up my business deals."

As he said that, he tried not to think of the Ferengi which hired him to assassinate Nara, and subsequently caused him to get quite rich.

"So what happened then?", He inquired, trying to wash the Ferengi off his mind before Nara picks it up.

Nara scowled at him a moment, "I should hope you'd not sell me off to slavery." For a moment, the old, brief confrontation about Saul's business practices from when they first met flashed in her mind. That soon faded as she thought how to continue the story.

"That depends on how many camels and goats they offer for you.", Saul assured her.

She had her mouth open to talk, but glared at Saul when he spoke. "Don't make me 'accidentally' teleport you outside the ship, Saul Bental."

Entering the bar, the JAG officer sighed. Her new assignment on board the Galaxy had it's share of troubles. It appeared that the crew, for some reason or other, did not appreciate any one with knowledge of intergalactic law and diplomatic training. She felt shunned for the most part, and just wished she could drink her troubles away. Locating a bar stool next to a couple that was engaged in conversation, she ordered a drink.

Faylin spoke up. "Those controls can be kind of tricky." Winking at Nara, she raised her glass and took a sip of white wine.

The male half of the couple flashed a sly, rather disturbing grin. Faylin could almost imagine him standing in court, sleazing his way through the loopholes in the lawbook in order to get his client the best compromise.

"Not for the princess of the switching systems right here. I'm Saul Bental from intel, and the girl with the incredible story is called Naranda Roswell."

She nodded to Faylin, "Of Engineering actually. Which is why it wouldn't be too hard. Just a bunch of red tape to deal with."

"Mr. Bental." She nodded solemly. "Ms. Roswell. I'm Ensign Faylin McAlister. Jag, at your service." Faylin took another long sip, savoring the rich flavor as she observed thier reactions. She expected long faces, complete with a "Oh..so you are the...." type of comment. The woman drew her own conclusions about intel due to her experience working with the special people. Intel had a way of looking at you that made you feel like you just stepped off the 'short shuttle.' The superiority was just dripping off this man that sat beside her as she held his gaze. JAGs were not known to show weakness or vulnerability, especially when in uncomfortable situations. This present situation was not uncomfortable for Faylin, yet warrented the gaze of a woman that knew this Saul character was potential trouble.

She then narrowed her eyes at Saul a moment, taking her time with another swig, knowing he wanted her to carry on with the story. She felt rebellious.

**** Departure Lounge 2 ****

He wasn't sure who was hosting this little shindig, but looking at the pile in front of him, Steven wasn't going to complain. He generally only ever played with the Marines these days, but they had cottoned on to his poker abilities and had started finding other games to play. Still, playing here rather than in the Marine Commons was a nice change, so everything was good.

Reaching over to his pile, he picked up a couple of tokens and tossed them to the center of the table, where a smaller pool was forming.

"I raise you 20." He called out between puffs on the cigar he was smoking.

He looked over to the player on his left, waiting to see what she was going to do.

"Twenty," Kimberly replied simply, "and another twenty," she offered without a smile.

Rich looked over at Doctor Burton stoic expression. Then back at his cards again, before placing them on the table. "I fold." He called out.

"I, ummm... naaa. Matching your twenty.", The fourth player sighed, deciding to carry on despite her mediocre hand. She was a Japanese girl Steven knew only through the others. Nonetheless, it was not a big surprise that the first sentence ever directed to him by Nyoko Yuuri was a personal inquiry.

"Hey, that wasn't you that came aboard from that cargo ship earlier?" She asked, eyebrows arching.

Steven looked over at the Tactical officer. "That little ship? Yep, that was me. That was one heck of an adventure."

"Do tell," Kimberly asked, curious for a variety of reasons, "I'm a little behind on the ships logs recently, what happened?"

Nyoko leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and nearly knocking a glass of Japanese plum wine over the edge.

"Okay." He smiled. "It started with Lieutenant Roswell and I visiting a Farming plantation on the far side of the planet, with us then being captured by a couple of Ferengi. We were thrown into a cargo bay and told we were being sold to the Lyrans."

He paused, remembering it as if it had been yesterday, which as it happened it had been. "So there we were, trapped, with no one on the way to rescue us, since no one knew we had been kidnapped, in a small cargo bay."

Richard took a sip from the bottle before him.

"After I tried to pull the door open, with little success, Lieutenant Roswell had a look at a wall panel that had circuitry, which I assumed controlled the door. She didn't have much luck either." Steven continued.

Nyoko giggled. "Poor poor Nara. Boyfriend out of town surrounded by Romulan femme fatals, and she gets stuck with a test in Switching Systems 101. I raise you twenty!"

Steven threw in 20 to match the Doc's bet and another 20 to match the other raise. "We looked around for any potential escape routes and found none. So we sat on a couple of crates for what seemed like ages. And eventually an idea formed in my mind and I told Naranda of the plan. She thought it risky, but with the potential to succeed. So, with nothing else coming to mind, we went with it."

Nyoko nodded, then realized that she raised without a real chance of victory. "Baka...", she murmured, not folding just yet.

"Well, when all you have left are the crazy plans, then that's all you can try really isn't it," Kimberly offered sagely as she upped the ante.

**** Angel Moon ****

Setting the drink down, enjoying annoying Saul, not thinking she would apologize profusely later, she continued the story. "We were thrown into the cargo bay but a little tweaking and we were able to get a panel open. Then I hid. Which I have a bit of experience in."

She cast another glance at Saul. Strange how this talk seemed to remind her of everything that ever worried her about him. In this instance it was the hiding on Trill.

"Just don't let your soldiers at Sakaria hear you saying that.", Saul commented, thinking of how he and counselor Brian found themselves locked on Vaden. That's a story that Nara will never hear, he reckoned, but so were many others.

"Sometimes hiding is part of the battle. Spying on the enemy to gather information on their weaknesses." She took another swig, an annoyed look that the bottle was empty, but continued. "Then Jonas made a nice racket with the panel so the Ferengi would come running in."

"On Her Way, Part One"
Starring: Ensign Regenna Holmes
OPS Officer, USS Galaxy

Also starring: Barry Lando (NPC)

Location: Aboard the USS Frankford, Mess Hall
Time: Four days into the expected six day journey to shuttle rendezvous, 1830 hours

Regenna sat quietly in an inconspicuous corner of the ship's mess hall. In front of her was her plate full of baked chicken and green bean casserole. It was a recipe she had found in the computer database three days ago. She had been bored and decided to try to find new appetizing dishes to try. She found this one and loved it. She had had it for dinner every night since. Normally she would have brought a PADD with her to read but tonight she had left her quarters without one. It would prove to be an error the woman would come to regret.

Across the room he sat watching the young ensign. She was Starfleet. But she wasn't assigned to this ship, at least not with duties that he could see. He'd noticed her after they left the starbase. She came in every night, ate a meal while reading, and left. The second night he had followed her. She had gone to crew quarters but ones that weren't near anyone else's. He had waited nearby for five hours and she hadn't come out. He had missed her the next morning but on the third afternoon he had found her in the gymnasium working out. She had returned to her quarters and then, after two hours, gone to dinner. This morning, the fourth, she had come to breakfast at 0530 and then gone to the arboretum for two hours with a PADD. She had eaten lunch (some type of grilled sandwich) and returned to her quarters for an hour before heading to the gym again. Now she was back ! in the mess hall. She had no duties, no reason for being on board, yet there she was. It was curious. And tonight, she was not reading. She was eating. But no PADD.

Regenna looked up from her half-finished meal to see a short man with thinning black hair sitting in the seat across the table. He wasn't in a uniform, just a red and yellow shirt and tan pants and she didn't know who he was or what was going on. She chewed her meal as she stared at him.

"Hel-LO, YOU'RE new here. What's your name? MY name's Barry. Barry LAN-do. What department you in? Where are you from? Why are you eating alone? Do you need company or need to meet people? When's your duty shift? What do you like to do for fun? Did you come on board from the starbase? I did. You like that stuff there? It looks interesting. Is it some kind of Klingon dish? Or maybe a Vulcan one? You like to cook? I knew a woman once who could cook the most amazing dishes with no replicator at all. It was great. She was some woman, you know what I mean. A Deltan, you know. You ever met a Deltan. She wasn't in Starfleet and oo! oo could she cook. More ways than one. So, you cook? Or just like to eat, huh? Me, too. Can't boil water, I can't. I'm from Earth. Born there I mean. Haven't been back in ages. My work takes me all over. Went back briefly when the Borg attacked. Well, afterwards, but still. You never know, you know? I meet all kinds. Never know who can help ya out, do ya? Really. Never know. I once met this Klingon, thought he was gonna kill me, ended up saving my life and I got the best scoop of my life from him. Oh, did I mention? I'm a journalist. Well, actually, I work for myself. I own the thing. It's a relatively small journal but its growing. I got friends. They let me know the real deal, ya know. Not the official story that gets around. Hey, you want to subscribe? Its a great deal. Think about it, huh?"

As the little man rattled on, at first Regenna just stared at him. Then she started to look around for help, hoping someone would get this guy away from her but it seemed like everyone just avoided her eyes. Biting her lip, she pushed her tray away and stood up. "I have to go."

"Yeah, sure, got duties, I guess. I get it. No problem. I'll walk you to the turbolift. A real gentleman, that's Barry Lando. Yep. True chivalry. I know all kinds of martial arts and stuff, even Klingon and the Vulcan pinch. Sure. I can protect you."

~ Protect me from what? The lift doors? ~

"Here we go. Turbolift. All set. Hey, you never did tell me your name. What deck?" he asked as he joined her in the lift. "I'm on deck 5. Passenger quarters. You know, I'm sure -," he stopped as Regenna broke in.

"Deck four."

The turbolift began moving and Regenna sighed as Barry continued his monologue, wondering if he was planning on following her all of the way to her quarters.

"Tales from the South, Part 2" (The Rihannsu Tangent - sort of)

(OOC: Please note that both this post and Part 1 occur after the Cheron mission is done and the crew return to the ship but before the jump forward in time between this and the next mission.)

Lt. (JG) Naranda Sol Roswell
Engineering Officer

Second Lieutenant Steven Jonas
SFMC, Furies Detachment

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton
Chief Medical Officer

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief Intelligence Officer

Ensign Faylin McAlister
JAG Officer

Richard North
Consular Attache (NPC - Stuart)

Lieutenant J.G. Nyoko Yuuri
Tactical Officer (NPC - Oded)

Cadet (4th) Lali Indrakshi
Intelligence Trainee (NPC - Stuart)

**** Departure Lounge 2 ****

"The door opens and the Ferengi sees me making like I'm entering the hole in the wall. And I call out 'Keep going Nara. No matter what happens.' And the Ferengi thought I was following her in." He paused to take a sip of his drink. "I can't believe that they fell for it."

"If they were stupid enough to capture two Starfleet officers on the Romulan homeworld and think they can get away with it without raising political hell.", Nyoko pouted. "So what did he do? The Ferengi."

"One of them fired their weapon, scorching the wall above me. So I stopped and waited for them. One, the smaller I think, came forward and started to enter the hole, which I might add was no deeper than a Sonic shower is wide. As he bent down, I kicked him forward and dived behind a crate, shots from the other Ferengi's weapon blasting nearby."

Smirking slightly, "Well, all the old tricks to us Terrans may be new to some species out there," Kimberly offered, "never hurts to try does it," flipping another coin into the pot she looked to her left, "what happened next?"

He placed a couple of tokens into the middle, matching the last bet. "I glanced out from behind the box and saw him take a few steps towards my location. ~Not Yet~ I called to Nara. ~Almost.~ The other Ferengi came to, and started to call out, 'The feemale isn't in here, cousin. It's a trick.' But before he could finish, I signalled Nara to make a break for the door, from her concealed position behind some crates."

Richard placed his cards on the table absentmindedly, enthralled by the adventure Steven was telling. "I take it by your being here that she successfully made it out the door?"

Steven nodded. "Yes. She barely managed to get out before a couple of shots blasted the wall behind her as she ran. And then the door was closed, and she was out on the other side, leaving me stuck there with two unfriendly Ferengi."

"Is there another kind of Ferengi?" Kimberly asked as she dropped a handful of coins down, "Call," she added.

**** Angel Moon ****

"Hey Boss" Lali called out, having just entered the bar and seeing Saul sitting at a nearby table. "Welcome back."

"Oh, hey Lali.", Saul flashed a smile at the Indian cadet. She came on board just prior to the Galaxy's departure from DS5, and Cora had her do a tour on Tactical to learn how Intelligence affected the tactical solutions provided by Saul's department. Or rather, previous department.

She and Nyoko fit easily, their giggles often filling the Tactical Analysis center. And of course, she had this irritating habit of calling him 'boss', which no doubt Nyoko inflicted upon her.

"Well, now you can officially call me that way.", Saul informed her. "You can already guess what's the subject of this evening's briefing."

"It'll be good to get you back in the best uniform in the fleet." She smiled again.

"Oh, it's good to BE back.", He said, then returned his attention to Nara who seemed slightly neglected. He quickly introduced the cadet to Nara and vice versa, then offered her to join them and hear the story, so that she'll learn what NOT to do once she earned her Ensign's pip.

Nara eyed this woman like she was some evil thing. Nara was not in her normal tolerant mood at all. She shot Saul a look that pretty much said who the hell was this?

But she continued, "Well, we had formed a telepathic connection earlier in the trip so he was able to mentally tell me when to go. Very helpful in stealth conditions."

She was satisfied to see Saul shifting uneasily on his stool. She knew that she noticed it only because Saul let her, as he usually hid his thoughts well. And that was his problem - that it was much harder to hide your thoughts when your girlfriend is a telepath.

"OK. So the Ferengi comes in after you, fast, and--"

"Well, I just kept running out the door like he said, but later Jonas told me he got a nice conk on the head from the butt-end of a gun. He kinda got locked in after that."

**** Departure Lounge 2 ****

"So what happened next?" someone asked.

Too busy sculling the last vestiges of liquid from the glass, Steven didn't see who had spoken. So after putting the glass down, he looked at each of them in turn and then down at the cards in his hand before he spoke. "So there I was, trapped in the cargo bay with these two Ferengi, armed and angry. I thought about attacking them, and with my marine training I might have, but it was highly doubtful. They seemed to know a little about tactics when dealing with a larger adversary as the made sure they were always a fair distance apart, with their weapons trained on me."

"Common sense - even Ferengi some times posses it.", Nyoko Yuuri shrugged her shoulders.

"And then the Self Destruct alert came on, warning that we had 3 minutes to get off the ship. Now I've been a Marine for over ten years and have seen more death than I'd ever wish on anyone, and being trained as a Sniper rather than an Engineer, I knew that there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it, so I sat there on the crate waiting for the inevitable. But the Ferengi... well you should have seen them... They begged, they pleaded, they pounded against the door. Scared little shits they seemed to be."

"I bet the room was full of foul smells before long.", Nyoko commented sarcastically. She could nearly visualize the two desperate Ferengi, their whines surpassing the shrief of the alarm.

"And then Nara called out from the other side of the door for them to hand over their weapons. The larger Ferengi snickered mischievously."

Richard snorted. "Typical Ferengi."

Steven nodded. "That's what I thought, so using the mental connection Nara had formed previously, I told her not to open the door unless I asked her to mentally. And then waited for the Ferengi to do whatever they were planning."

"Cause being Ferengi they're 'always' up to something," Kimberly agreed, "so what'd they do?"

The game forgotten in the storytelling, Steven continued with the story. "They whispered and then the smaller Ferengi moved to the door while the other, his weapon still trained on me, called out that they were handing their weapons over. He then wanted me to say that they had done so. If it hadn't been for the telepathic connection that we shared, I would have said no. But since she wasn't going to open the door anyway, I obliged, while quickly letting her know what they were doing."

"Unfair advantage - I hope you're not using any telepathic connections to spy on our cards right now.", Nyoko said with a pout, her eyes darting to look for any possible accomplice.

Steven held up his hands in mock shock. "I ain't got a telepathic bone in my body. At least as far as I'm aware. That was all Nara." He placed his fingers on his forehead, making that he was reading her mind and smiled at Nyoko. "Though I do see that your Ace doesn't have any partners." He joked, poking his tongue out at her.

"I deny any relation to aces whatsoever.", Nyoko stuck out her own tongue in reply.

**** Angel Moon ****

"Cool." Lali said, following teh story with interest. "I've heard of people making connections like that, just never actually spoken to anyone who had. So what happened after Steven told you not to open the door?"

"I laughed at the begging the Ferengi were doing. Well, not really, but I laugh now." She sighed, "In any event, he told me to let them out eventually and they all run past me. I felt pretty damn clever at that moment."

"Without the guns?", Saul asked, then clarified, "Did they let go of the guns, or did they pass by you with the guns?"

"Well, I assume Jonas had gotten them to drop the guns since they weren't with them as they ran like scared school children."

"I see.", Saul smirked. "And what, they rushed to the bridge, to stop the ship from 'exploding?'."

"I guess they had all their controls there." She let out a laugh, "It was a fun little scare tactic. But we got it turned off, tied up the buggers and I flew us the hell out of there."

Saul's annomosity towards Nara was not lost on Faylin. She turned to Nara, "At least you were able to get out safe and sound." She took a swig of her drink. "And, that's what counts. Right Saul?"

Saul shook his head sideways. "I know Nara for... almost two years now? So trust me when I tell you this: These two poor Ferengi bastards didn't stand a chance."

A proud smile came across her lips, "Damn straight!" She winked at Saul, her ability to instantly change moods would astound her if she cared to notice.

**** Departure Lounge 2 ****

"There isn't much left to tell in my story. After Nara disabled the self destruct she had set up, we tied the Ferengi up and Nara, who I must say is quite an accomplished pilot, flew the cargo ship back to ch'Rihan to have the duo be processed for kidnapping and other assorted charges that would no doubt be raised against them and their devious schemes. We contacted the RNI and handed them and the ship over. And that's about it."

Nyoko looked skeptical. "The RNI actually did something about these jerks? They may not be Tal Shiar, but they're still a snobbish intelligence agency."

"Depends what they wanted from them would be my guess," Kimberly suggested.

"Now, where were we?" He looked around the table and tried to recall who was next to ante up, but drew a blank.

"I was about to fold." Nyoko pointed out, putting down her cards.

"Oh, sorry. Guess I got too wound up in telling the adventure Nara and I had." He smiled. Looking at his hand, it was unlikely that he could be beat. But he wasn't going to let on. He threw in some more coins. "I think that matches your raise. And a couple more to make it more interesting."

The Japanese Tactical officer watched her tokens on the main pile longingly. At least the story was worth the loss of a few credits.

"the seperation"

Characters:
2nd Lt Branwen London
XO Furies and staff psychologist

Pilot Paulo DiMillo
Some Position in Vanguard

Cora Dobryin
Chief Intelligence Officer

Private Amy VanDuren
Marine (Written by Stuart)

khre'Arrain (Lt Cmdr) Vaebn
Romulan Marine (Written by Stuart)

FSgt. Thral
Demolitions Specialist

2nd LT Greg Ward
SFMC Special Forces Lead, USS Galaxy

Private Michael J. Caboose
ARC/Heavy Weapons Expert, USS Galaxy
--ONPC (Written by Wil)

2nd LT Rayne Sutea
Marine NPC (Written by Cami)

Corporal Michael Laverius Tucker
ARC/Infantry, USS Galaxy
--ONPC (Written by Wil)

Lt. (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Engineer USS Galaxy

Dr. Tricks (Phoenix A Dass) - (Written by Dru)

Mystery NPC's (Written by Ian)

***Compound***

'Three' burned his hardened gaze into the other's eyes, knowing they were there by the shine of his whites.

"Then it's time you relearned how. Bring me to this 'group'."

***

Thral was constantly looking around at the captors looking for any signs of dissent, weakness, someone who might be a double agent.  He wasn't expecting that here, but that is how they got out of the scrape they were in on Chin'toka.  Like the rest he did not know who these people were or what they wanted, but looking up at someone coming towards them.  Thral looked at Bran to get her attention and then indicated the newcomer with his eyes while mouthing.

"Looks like he's in charge."

She nodded very slightly back at him.  Branwen continued to do what she was doing, but kept watching the approaching captors.

***

Dass shook off the telepathic charge as best he could, apart from his mind being a little fuzzy, his balance askew and his vocabulary slurred, he was fine!  Would be fine... yeah... after a little lie down!

Collapsing gracefully on the floor next to Eshe he mumbled his apologies on missing the 'show' to anyone that might perhaps be listening and closed his eyes against the topsy-tervy world that was making him more nauseous than he was previously!

As one light blows out so another is sparked into existence, as the saying goes.  Dhanishta stirred from her unconscious state, her mind a jumble, unable to focus on anything.  She began to shiver as her brain became aware of her body and the drop in temperature now that she was waking up.  A dull ach accompanied the confusion that clouded her mind as she tried to open her eyes, "Black and white, dark and light, two by two, they want to kill you!" she mumbled through chattering teeth.

After a slight struggle with brain requests v's motor function Dhanishta finally came to an upright position.  She took a moment to look around and get her bearings.  From her position she could see Thral clearly mouthing to someone.  Following the direction of his silent annunciation she saw London.

Her weary gaze continued through the ashen faces of the other officers that surrounded her, Cora, Paulo, the nameless throng of marines, finally coming to a halt at Dass who lay at her feet.  "Do.. Dass?" Dhanishta called out softly, her teeth still chattering as she shuffled closer to him.  "Dass!?" she called out again with more urgency reaching out to shake him awake.

"No one's home, please leave a message after the tone." Dass mumbled back through his semi conscious state.

"Get up!" Dhani instructed more forcibly, nudging him with her foot.

Dass' reply was an incomprehensible onslaught of noise, dictating his indifference to the request through tone alone.

Turning from the Doctor Dhanishta stared up into the eyes of their captors. "Pretty." she stated blinking, mesmerized by the energy that flowed around them.  It was like watching a lightening storm close up; the energy cracked around them, unseen by everyone else.  It had the same beauty as a nebular cloud; the flow of colors ranging from electric blue to a deep purple mist encapsulated them.  And yet at the same time they had control over it. Dhanishta watched them closely, she could learn a lot from these people. The apparent danger she and the rest of the team were in flowed to the recess of her mind as she shuffled closer towards her captors to get a better view; like a moth to a flame!

*** Near the outskirts of camp ***

The sunlight seeped through his closed eyelids, piercing the thin membrane and stabbing deep into his soul.

He moaned softly.

Slowly he came back to the present as his mind began to focus on the sounds, or rather lack thereof, around him.

He opened his eyes and had to raise a hand to shield the sunlight that shone in the morning's sky. He winced at the wound in his side. Reaching down to it, he gingerly pressed his hand to it to determine the extent of the damage.

The head wound didn't seem that bad either, so he couldn't complain.

He looked around, surveying the camp. His view was blocked by a large number of crates that had toppled down, blocking him off from the center of camp. Crawling towards the crates, he managed to get a glimpse through the gap between two crates. There were the Federation Marines, huddled together, with a few guards camped around them, watching them.

Uncharacteristically, he almost jumped from his hiding spot, startled as he was, when he detected one of the Attackers standing only a couple of feet away. Turning to gaze upon the being, Vaebn found him looking out into the wilderness around the camp. ~ Probably looking for missing Marines ~ Vaebn thought. ~ Or me! ~

Taking a deep breath, he popped his head up and took a quick look around the camp. No one was looking in his direction. Reaching up behind the enemy, he carefully and quickly placed his fingers in the correct spot on the man's neck and squeezed in a manner that very few non-Vulcans knew how to. The man crumbled where he was standing. Vaebn grabbed him as he fell and eased him down to the sandy ground.

Grabbing the man's weapon, he moved silently as far as he could from the vicinity, which wasn't far due to the lack of cover.

He examined the weapon and found it to be a mixture of an ancient Romulan design with parts from some sort of equipment that just screamed "Federation", but he couldn't be certain. Having no idea what kind of beam or discharge the weapon could make, or even if it had any sort of "stun" setting, Vaebn would have to make do when he found his chance to try and free the captives.

So for now he waited.

****

The man swathed in dark khaki marched towards the captives with marked determination.  Behind him, the sun was rising; the first signs of pink rays casting themselves across the landscape and stretching his shadow towards them like an elongated water serpent.

His scarf was off, though his hood remained up.  The gentle winds were coming from the east, stirring up the first vestiges of dry heat.

Behind the man were two others, both equally covered head to toe in the same gear, and none of them wore any markings signifying any one of them as distinctive from the other. The one in front stopped when he reached the enclosure; he had walked right through the energy barrier that Dass could not himself transition through. The other two were carrying something between them.

"Which of you is the leader?"

For a second Branwen thought about opening her mouth to be honest.  Then she realised it was not a good idea.  Let them knock themselves out and search for the leader for a while.  For once she was happy that she didn't look like Baile. She didn't have the neon sign saying 'I am a leader' above her head.

Thral looked to Bran as the man stated his request. He obviously didn't think the Lt was in charge he would have gone straight to her. He mouthed to

Bran "I'll handle this" The Tellarite then stood up and looked the captor straight into his eyes and said "I am. Sergent First Class Thral - Starfleet Serial Number 2332345DX."

"I see Starfleet hasn't changed much."  He snapped his fingers and the two others that came with him dropped what they were carrying between the captors and captive.  Cracking open the case, it revealed liters of water, ration packs, hydration tubes, maps, and headscarves. "I intend to release you, but it is up to you whether you take these with you or not."

Thral wasn't entirely buying this, but then again, he didn't buy it when the

Cardassians rose up and shot the Jem'hadar the last time.

"I have to wonder why you bothered to attack us in the first place, we were here to help." Thral said, doubting the man would care. Lieutenant London noticed some uneasiness amongst the troops.  They were all tough soldiers, but the last 24 hours they had been pushed to the limits and everybody was feeling sick.  At times like those rations looks like mana from heaven.  She was very proud of them when nobody flinched.

Without closing the crate, he continued on regardless of their denials.

"Your friends that escaped won't survive against the day without these supplies.  Would you sacrifice their lives for whatever cause it is you think you are defending?"

Thral said nothing but rather crossed his arms and stared at the man. He muttered a curse in Tellarite, something about his mother and hell. Amy looked up at the man. Summoning all the reserves she could in her weakened state, she rose to her feet and took a shaky step forward. "And what pray tell, is it that you think we are defending?"

"Very well.  Then we do this the easy way."  It didn't take but a blink of an eye before he lifted one hand, and sent a shockwave of electricity at one of them.

The Tellarite froze in place while a white-hot wave of electricity passed over him, shifting from white to black as it encased him in its energy-based shell.  He was rasied off the ground, while the man who had him under his control stared into London's eyes, waiting for the woman to give him a sign of complacency.  When it was not forthcoming, the captor ended the being's torment, dropping the Marine to the ground, where he lay in a crumple amidst gasping for breath.

Caboose stood up and in a matter of a couple of steps, was over next to Thral and checked him out with first concern and then anger on his face as he looked up at their captors. Caboose then stood up and looked the "speaker" dead in the eyes and said simply "Michael J. Caboose, Private. ARC dash seven seven, Starfleet Marine Corps." in a challenging voice to dare them to zap him as well.

Branwen had had enough. "Stand aside, private."  She came and stood before Caboose. "You bastards.  If you want to hurt anybody, you pick me. What the hell is this anyway, we are on this planet on an aide mission!" Her Welsh temper was really shining through now.

Underneath the hood, the being smiled.  He lifted a hand outwards in a gesture that appeared to be offering his hand, but the woman only looked at it, saying nothing else.

He raised his hands to his hood when she refused his touch, and unfolded the cloths around his head, dropping the cloth away freely.  The campfires caught his eyes in their firelight, and it showed one side of his face - the left - was in shadow, while the other side was devoid of color, its albino nature stark against the night sky.

"I do not 'want' to hurt anyone.  I was left with little choice."

"That's what vilains always say isn't it." Branwen was not afraid of him. She stood tall in front of her people as if she was trying to shield them all.

A low chuckle escaped his lips.  "You are the victims of ghost stories and folktales, told by the Romulans to fabricate an urgency so they can annex our world, that's all.  If you truly are on a mission of aid, you are assisting the wrong party."

"You have a nice way of showing that. Taking us like this. What's wrong with just talking?" The lieutenant asked.

As the interchange between the two carried on, another one of the captors had arrived, and was whispering harshly to one of the others.

"Sir," the one who had received the exchange interrupted 'Three' before he could respond to London's query. "We have new orders."

"Excuse me, miss."  Three bowed slightly and turned to the other 'native', his sudden politeness to Branwen offsetting the previously violent precursor.

"What the hell is going on?"  Paulo asked in a hushed voice.  "There have been no reports of life here except for those that have resetteled here." Three returned a few minutes later, his features softened in the light.

"You are all free to go."  He touched London's arm.  "Not you.  There are other plans for you."  His two companions moved to London's sides, each taking an arm, and pulling her away from the others.

Bran tried to break free and when that did not work resulted to kicking and biting. She was not afraid for herself, but her people were weak and sick and she absolutely didn't want to be separated from them right now. It felt like failure.

Three took a step forward and his tone returned to ice.

"We will take you within five kilometers of the settlement.  You will be given rations and water enough to survive the trek.  Do not attempt to locate your leader or your equipment, but take this back with you."  He lowered his voice an octave.

"We are not the enemy.  We want our world back, and the infidels off its soil.  We will do whatever is necessary, but violence is not our intention. We have the means to force you off this planet if it comes to it, but if you leave peacefully, we will not intervene."

He waved his hands behind him, ignoring any responses from the prisoners, and turned his back, leaving and, following the path the others took with London.  A half dozen replacements, weapons raised against the Marines, forced the captives up and out of the campsite.

"Well, this is looking better and betetr," Paulo said.  "Next time I am staying home."

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