"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Four

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

Throughout the onslaught that followed the screams of the wounded echoed off the walls of the buildings that managed to withstand the bombing. Miles away from the city the battle was felt, seen and heard. The cries and sound of phaser fire not only lit up the sky like the 4th of July celebrations in America, but tainted it with the blood of the fallen. It impregnated the air, the stench carrying upon the wind. It seeped into the ground, bathing it with innocent souls that would forever haunt the minds of those that survived.

In the distance a clock could be heard chiming faintly four am, reminding everyone that usually at this time of night all of Romulus would be sleeping, yet there wasn't one soul that could sleep through this. Those that had already fallen, hacked down by the blade of the Hydran Alliance, not only had the torment of their suffering, guilt riddled minds for having failed, or for being relieved that they had failed! Yet even now, secluded under the ground, close enough to death to reach out and shake his withered hand, even here in this place of heeling they had to endure yet another torture; the sounds of their comrades dying. Feeling the earth above them shake with every blast, watching showers of mud and dust fall from the ceiling as every quake threatened to make the whole place cave in on them, and yet there was nothing they could do, but sit and wait for their fate.

Era hadn't been able to sleep. Soft cries kept filtering down the passageway, disturbing her dreams. More than once, just as her body managed to claim a doze, she'd wake in a cold sweat at the moans of the wounded, bringing back visions of unintelligible wailing from the Romulan hospital.

Her back to the wall, Era listened in the dark as the sounds of pain, weariness and despair filtered from the hospital section of the underground passageways. One voice in particular kept drawing her ear.

It wasn't any louder than the rest, but it was more discernible. There were words behind the pain, chanted unceasingly. Impelled to hear more clearly, Era rose to her feet and followed the monotone down the hallways. After a few minutes walking, turning corners and backtracking as she played a game of hot-and-cold with the voice, Era at last entered the room of its origin.

The walls were lined with beds. All were filled, some with more than one individual - though those sharing tended to be children. In fact, most of the room held children, only a few adults scattered here and there looking like oversized dolls. A few of the kids were crying, some even while they slept. Some bore ghastly wounds, physical scars of the ravaging of their planet to ensure they would never abandon the mental scars war had inscribed on their souls. In the center of the room, kneeling on the cold ground, a young boy, perhaps thirteen at most, rocked slowly as he chanted. The words were clearer now.

It was a prayer for the sick, a prayer for the homeless, a prayer for the dead. All at once and each line its own intercession, endlessly repeating, the three designations becoming one in the process of prayer.

Era had never considered herself to be overly religious, yet the constancy of the young voice in the midst of so much uncertainty drew her relentlessly until she found herself kneeling as well, in the middle of the doorway, her head bowed as she listened and desired, with all her heart, to reach out toward some higher power that all of this might make some sense. That there could be a reason, or the hope for retribution, or at least solace in waiting arms when the end did arrive…

At first, Branwen had done mainly administrative duties to keep the makeshift hospital going. Making sure that the medication there was, was distributed where needed. But pretty soon it became clear that they were still short of medical personnel.

Despite her own minimal medical training, she was again roped into helping out as nurse and even doctor! This time she found it even more difficult, so many of the civilian casualties were children. It was heartbreaking to see the pain and the confusion of those little faces. So many of them had lost all their family and were totally alone in the world.

The spare time she did have, Branwen spent on the children's ward, singing to them and playing little games with those who were more mobile. Once in a while she even managed to make one of them smile. Those were the most precious moments in the world for her right now.

The boy's chanting eventually came to an end and Era returned to her feet, feeling slightly disoriented. Her gaze fell upon a familiar face, even if her last encounter with the woman had ended less than cordially. Having nothing else to do within the tunnels, Era approached and crouched down beside Branwen mouthing a hello, unwilling to disturb the silence with her voice.

Branwen wiped a tear from her eye, and motioned Era to follow her to a more private area of the room.

"I want to say thank you for staying and helping out. You are making a big difference, most of the wounded run out of here as soon as they are back on their feet. They cannot take all the suffering."

"Where would these little ones run?" Era murmured, folding her arms across her chest in a sudden chill, "Or any of us?"

"I mean our people, they clamor very quickly to find other jobs outside of the hospital. And I can't even blame them." Branwen was sidetracked by a beeping monitor. Even people on life-support were placed here because the intensive care was overflowing.

"Just a second, I have to check this out." She said and walked to the bed were the beeping was intensifying. Branwen was too tired to recognize the noise as a danger sign. So she bent over the little boy lying on the bed.

Seconds later there was a very loud noise and Branwen was lifted into the air, hurled against the wall. With all the air blown out of her lungs the world went dark.

It took Era some minutes to orient after the blast. Most of the children had begun to scream or cry. The boy chanter had begun again, at a more feverish pace, his prepubescent voice trying to drown out the chaos around him. From beneath a swarm of scared children Era struggled to her feet and tried to assess the situation. There wasn't time now to determine what had caused the machine to explode like that. More important was to see who was hurt - freshly hurt, she amended. Most of the children seemed to simply be shaken. The child on life-support, having lost the sustaining strength of the machine, lay still. Era's eyes searched for Branwen and finally found her. A few children were huddling over her prone form. Gently, Era shooed them out of the way, Branwen's medical kit in hand.

Branwen was barely conscious. Her whole body hurt and she kept slipping in and out.

Era's brow creased at the readings she was getting. While she could understand the ideas of abrasions and moderate burns, the two broken fingers, and what appeared to be a long-standing wound that had become heavily infected, she was at a loss as to how best to treat them, or in what order.

Instructing one of the older boys to go fetch her some water, she did her best to set things right. The shoulder wound had festered beyond the help of the weak regenerator in the kit, but she hoped the sterilization pack would prevent further infection. Once Branwen was conscious again, she could see about getting instructions on how better to deal with it. The burns looked bad, but they were relatively easy to deal with, though the healing time in the circumstances would be slow. She didn't have anything to set or heal the bones, however, so she did the best she could by buddy-binding one bad finger to one good. The result was a little ridiculous, leaving Branwen stuck in a perpetual Vulcan traditional salute. The younger children around her, many of them Romulan, giggled and began to mimic it, chanting "live long and prosper" until one of the older ones told

them to hush, finding too much irony uncomfortable.

Once Era had done what little she could by way of treating Branwen's injuries, she availed herself of one of the woman's brief moments of consciousness to press her to drink some water before easing her back down, a pillow having been hastily set beneath her head.

"What.... Ruvik...is he..." She was clearly indicating the boy she had come to see to. Branwen tried to struggle upright. She was not thinking completely straight yet, but the young woman had a very high pain threshold thanks to the administrations of her father during her youth.

"He's dead," Era said straight out, not fighting Branwen's attempts to sit up.

The young marine swallowed. In her present state it was one death too many and the tears joined the blood and filth on her face unchecked.

"Help me up, please." She asked Era, "I must try and save the rest."

"What's the use?" Era muttered under her breath, but helped her up anyway. "You should have that wound on your shoulder looked at."

"I know. It happened a few days ago. But every time a doctor is free something more urgent comes up. So I manage." Bran said simply. "How are you?" she tried to focus her eyes.

"Fine." Era brushed aside the question.

The ceiling shook again raining down more debris as the battle raged above their heads. The cries of the wounded lulled as the patients slept under sedation. The lighting in the main room flickered yet the generators kept the medical equipment running. It was a testament to the Federation and how many times they had been through conflicts, that the large underground room, of which no one had questioned the existence of, had been fully kitted out with bio beds, cots, antigrav stretchers and all manner of medical devices scrounged from all over the city.

Yet at the same time it was also a bitter reminder that even though the major powers called for peace, even now in this age of enlightenment, war was still something that they could never escape.

No matter the multitude of advances they made in technology, or the advances they believed they had made, it was never enough to help move beyond violence and destruction. Decades pass, centuries even, and yet another generation was subjected to the horrors of war. Would the peoples of the galaxy ever be able to move beyond this need, this primal instinct to command and conquer?

Could the species of the known universe ever truly live in peace?

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Five

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

It has been declared throughout the ages that triage medicine was indeed the best, and from those lying there, there had been no complaints. Even though they faced many problems in the hospital; lack of medicine and personal, they still treated the wounded as best they could, better in fact.

For the moment the hospital was relatively peaceful, finally giving the doctors and nurses some time to rest. Those that were on duty made their rounds quietly, pausing at the foot of each patient's cot, adding notes to the charts that hung on the end of their makeshift beds. The main room was large and rectangular; it contained most of the injured adults, while another slightly smaller room, off the right of the main, contained predominantly children.

There was a corridor off the main room that led to a wing of smaller rooms. At the end of the hall a canteen had been assimilated from chairs and tables that they had found, and nestled in the corner was a replicator. The rest of the rooms had been set up for the officers on duty.

Faylin had found herself back in this place. The darkness was illuminated only by a stray lamp or two, with the rest being reserved for more serious matters. Glancing to the left, then right, the woman smirked, wondering exactly what the definition of serious was any more. The area reeked of seriousness. A smile would instantly frown in these surroundings.

She brought her hand up, wiping the sweat off of her forehead. Why she was told to be here, she knew. She was better with then she was without a phaser rifle. McAlister sighed, wishing that she could close her eyes and be transported to anywhere other than here. The nightmares, reserved for when the war was over, were occurring in a violent fashion night after night now. They housed the screams of the wounded damned. The soldiers who just wanted to get out and fight again, the cries of the people that realized they would never fight again, the whimpers of the soon to be dead, and the weeping of the orphaned children over newly deceased parents.

The makeshift infirmary held no grudges against discrimination. It accepted all races, all genders, all ages. Its arms were wounded themselves, yet opened with loving abandonment, attempting to give its life blood to save yet another life. The harsh reality was, that the infirmary was running low on life blood.

Blinking once, McAlister stood at the beginning of the medical center. Cot after cot after cot assaulted her with their contents of wounded in various degree. It was enough visually just with the mass amount of injured to make her vomit where she stood. The nauseated feeling was compounded by two things. The stench of death, blood, and tears.

And, the sounds of the wounded around her. Both violently attacked her. The most prominent was the ironish smell of blood. It was everywhere. On sheets, the floor, somehow on the walls of the cavern. It weaved it's presence around her, teasing her own blood, tempting it to come out and help decorate it's new home outside the various bodies it used to house itself in.

Swallowing the bile that she felt rise in her throat, she grabbed the nearest dolly, hell bent on changing some more bandages.

"Medic" Steven yelled as he entered the room. He was dripping with blood. Not his, but rather the wounded man he had been carrying back from the ambush. He looked about but found no empty cots.

"Take mine." A young man, missing his left arm called out.

Steven nodded and carried the wounded man over, carefully lowering him to the now empty cot.

The other marines moved in, wounded men either on their shoulders or being propped up by the shoulders. And slowly one by one, less wounded individuals would rise and free up a bed for the Marines. Steven nodded his thanks to each and every one of them as he waited for the medic to arrive.

Glancing sideways, Faylin gasped, dropping her bandages and running over to Steven.

"Steve!" Stopping short, she padded him down where the blood was. "Where are you hurt?"

"Hello to you too." He smirked playfully. "Most of the blood is from the wounded soldier I carried back here." He reached up and played with a strand of her hair for a moment. Even though she had become a stronger woman, even with the fortitude that her time on the planet had provided her, Steven still wanted to protect her, to take her as far from the war-zone as he could. But until the fleet arrived, or rather if the fleet ever arrived, he'd have to do what he could to protect her.

She outwardly sighed, content that it wasn't him that was hurt was sadistic in a way. Blinking, she held on to his arm as he talked to her.

"There wasn't enough time to get them patched up. Another group of Hydrans was approaching and we hightailed it out of there fast. We need the medic pronto. A couple of them won't survive for long without proper aid."

"Got it." She stated firmly, turning from him and running off to find someone that had more medical expertise than she did. And, at this point, it could be anyone.

Returning after settling the new arrivals in, she smiled before she slipped on some blood, knocking her head on the tip of a cot which resulted in knocking herself out.

Steven rushed to Faylin's side. "Faylin?" he called out to her as he kneeled by her side. "Fay?" He carefully picked her head up off the floor, cradling it on his knees as he felt for her pulse. It was there, soft, but steady, and Steven breathed a sigh of relief. It was short lived as he tried to pick her up to carry her to a cot, and found her hair soaked in her

blood. Chucking off his armor with haste, he ripped at his uniform to make a bandage for her head, while he called out for a medic.

He cradled her in his arms, rocking back and forth slightly as he waited.

It appeared that rest time was indeed over. Dr Robinson was awoken by the commotion. He dressed quickly, which meant putting on his boots and grabbing fresh scrubs!

He hotfooted it as quick as his stout form would allow, leaving the relative warmth of the cot he had been attempting to sleep on begrudgingly behind. Running down the small adjoining corridor into the main ward he heard the cries of those that were being brought in. That sound had echoed in this room a thousand times before and yet still, it was as haunting now as it was the first time he heard it. No matter how many times he had been in this position, through the Dominion war, the Cardassian war, that sound sill twisted a knot in his stomach and made the few hairs on his balding head stand on end.

Stealing a moment to check the time he sighed, 6am and already there were more, when would this end? There was only so much a death a doctor could take. Pushing the feelings aside he focused on his job, it was the only thing he could do to stop himself from falling into despair.

Half a dozen marines had somehow managed to make it through the battle outside and down the stairs to the underground hospital, each one of them carrying a bleeding, mangled, body. Several more piled in behind, those were the walking wounded; they would have to wait until the critical cases were dealt with.

Assessing the situation quickly as the other nurses and doctors joined him he visibly cringed as he looked down at the first body, already knowing that more would die on his watch today, for this one was beyond saving.

Seeing Ali enter the fray he shouted to the girl, "Take the woman." he indicated the man crouching on the floor rocking an injured woman in his arms. "Take him over there," he shouted at one of the marines, "and you take that one over there… no not there man…. *There*. Look where I'm pointing you dumb…"

The hospital came alive once more with fresh howls from the wounded and dying. More blood spilled across its floor adding to the stench that permeated the air and seeped into the heart of the planet. There seemed to be no end to this war.

Once their cargo was dropped off the few marines that could, left, there wasn't anything they could do here. With heavy hearts they meandered their way back up the stairs and out into the early morning light.

The dawn on the horizon was breaking, several rays of sun light streaming through the smoke and the dust that littered the atmosphere. It brought the destruction clearly into view for the marines that stood, struck by the blinding light and the devastation.

Looking up at one of the surviving buildings Private Lila realized for the first time that they were standing in the civilian quarter of the city. The house next to her bore visible marks from the fire fight that had seemed to end suddenly with first light. The walls were scorched, ebony streaks smudged the bricks, and the windows were shattered, torn curtains hung in the empty space fluttering in the gentle breeze, blackened with soot.

The small piece of land in front of the house, she assumed was once a garden, had huge potholes; craters, showing just how close this house had come to succumbing to the fate as its adjoining one. The house that had stood next door was nothing but a pile of rubble. Bricks jutted out of the one that survived, creating a disjointed silhouette against the lightening sky.

For a second she thought she heard a voice coming from a window above, yet how anyone was alive out here was beyond her. Bowing her head she took up the tail of the line of marines, checking her rifle just in case they were ambushed as they made their way back through the rubble in silence to the front line.

Yet what Lila didn't know was that there was indeed someone alive in that house with the scorched walls, more than one…

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Six

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

The tr'Ehhelih family home stood in what used to be the noble sector f the city, although now it was difficult to tell that this part of the city had any grace or class to it. Most of Avilh i'Ramnau tr'Ehhelih neighbors had fled when their first wave of defense fell. She had watched the streets come alive with millions as they clamored to escape. She had watched them with scathing pity, for she knew that there wouldn't be enough transports before the Hydrans came. She knew that most of those dying to leave would simply do just that; die.

Indeed there hadn't been enough transports, and neighbor turned against neighbor, friend against friend, family against family as they jostled to board what transports there were. And that sort of brutality was something she did not want to subject her son to. She was a proud woman and Rihannsu through and through. So the Hydran wanted her home and her blood? Well they would have to come and get it for themselves. They would have to physically remove her from her home, she wasn't going to let her son see her afraid, she wasn't going to panic and flee, she would stand and fight, she would show her son what it truly meant to be a Rihannsu.

Little Raul sat on his small bed playing with his teddy bear. Well, it wasn't really a bed, more a group of rags that formed a soft cushion to the hard dirt floor below. But he was with his mommy and that was all that he cared about. Daddy had gone off to fight the big uglies and hadn't come home yet.

It was early, but he couldn't sleep. The sounds and loud bangs outside had woken him up and now he couldn't sleep. He cried out for mommy, but she didn't come. Shrugging his shoulders, Raul looked down at his teddy bear, and laughed.

It now sported a third eye, made out of a button he had found and glued on, and an extra arm and leg made out of a carrot and a piece of wood he had found a few days ago. The material that acted as the bear's skin was ripped and torn in places and several dirt stains were clearly visible on the poor bear.

Looking away for a moment Raul pulled a small kitchen knife from the floor next to him and proceeded to stab the bear repeatedly. "Take that, and that" he shouted.

A bright light lit up the sky and Raul stopped and rushed to the window to see what it was. Even with all the death, destruction and bloodshed, the six year old's curiosity had not waned and he was eager to see what was happening outside. As he reached the window, he saw streaks of bright light zipping across the sky. He didn't know what they were, but they fascinated him no end and "hydra bear" as he had begun to call it, slipped from his grasp as his attention was fully on the light show that lit up the early morning sky.

"Yay!" He shouted as yet another series of beams of coloured light passed overhead in the sky.

The door burst open and Avilh, a tall gaunt woman entered the room in a frenzy; her expression was a mixture of elation and concern as she proceeded across the room and came to kneel near her only child.

"Come away from the window darling" she chastised softly.

"Mommy?" he turned to look at his mother. She looked tired, rubbing at her eyes, night gown blowing in the gentle breeze that blew in the open window, "Why should I come away?"

"Because it's dangerous there." she told him simply. Opening her arms she indicated for him to come to her, and the safety that her location by the wall provided rather than the window.

Raul nodded. He was used to obeying his mother. She was a strict task master, always making him do his chores and tidy his room. She had often told him that she was doing it for his own good. He knew better than to refuse, not because of what she said, but rather cause poppa usually pulled off his belt if he did.

He padded over to his mother and wrapped his tiny arms around her neck, hugging her tightly.

Enveloping him in her arms she hugged his small form, stifling a tear as she did. Standing up she lifted him off the floor and shifted his weight on to her hip as he wrapped his legs round her waist.

"When's poppa going to be home?"

Looking into his tiny face, she smiled at the question, though it brought an ach into her chest, "I don't know darling." she replied tucking a dark strand of hair behind his ear. "Soon though." she added cupping his cheek, she winked at him, pulling a face to lighten the mood.

The sky outside lit up brightly and instinctually she crossed the room and looked out of the window. It didn't occur to her that she had told off her son for doing just that.

"Did you see them darling?" she asked him in a whisper as emotion caught her voice.

"Who mommy?"

"They are back!" she said squeezing him a wave of relief washed through her body. "The Fleet is back baby!" she said pulling the frayed curtain aside to see the lights in the sky more clearly. Standing there she swayed gently back and forth as they watched the fire fight begin.

Raul looked at his mommy. If the fleet was back, that meant daddy might be back soon too. He hugged her tightly. He didn't have anything to say, so he just held her.

She smiled softly at him as she watched the lights, the battle that raged beyond their planet, for their planet. They watched it together until the light of the rising sun blocked the sight from their view.

She prayed silently that this would all be over soon. That their return would bring justice to the invading Hydran for all the atrocities they had committed, and that soon she would be reunited with her husband, and they could begin to live again instead of exist in this squalor.

"Mommy, what's that over there?" He asked as he saw movement down the street.

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Seven

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

Outside the tr'Ehhelih family home, troops had gathered, they too seeing the light in the sky, realizing that the game was back on. The Federation was back and that meant no holes barred, that meant freedom. It wasn't just the Romulans to be liberated it was the good men and woman that had been fighting here relentlessly for the past three weeks, this was their salvation too.

Across the city the news spread fast and as eight am dawned a new day; for those that tried to stick to some sort of 'normal' working hours. Ensign Varis was awoken and tasked to fix the only radio the rapidly forming resistance had.

Sat in front of the damaged machine, staring at the internal organs of wires and electrodes that hung out of its side, "This is going to take a miracle." He looked to the small group of technicians and the other Engineer that had come with him along with

the small group of marines that had served primarily as an escort. He shook his head slowly. How did they expect him to be able to do anything with this? He was sure that half of the internals were fried into ash.

He reached over with a sigh and picked up the small set of tools he had had with him ever since he got planet side. He set to work taking off the hard-shell cover of the communications device. It wasn't going to be easy at all. In the distance he could hear firefights raging and people screaming. He closed his eyes and focused on the task at hand. His hand worked the spanner carefully, working to pull the damaged cover off without damaging anything else inside of it. Once he got it off he set it on the floor next

to the broken chair he sat on. The insides were black with soot and damage. He had to admit that he had seen worse before, but in that situation, he had had several other broken machines to cannibalize parts from. This was completely different.

Varis looked around, "Anyone know how to fabricate transceiver modules and relay nodes?" Everyone looked at him like he was crazy, shaking their heads slowly. Varis sighed once again and went to work stripping out the internals of the small system, setting the good things to the left, the bad things on the floor, and the salvageable parts to the right. Thankfully the transmitter was in the 'good' section and the transceiver was still salvageable. That made a big difference. Varis looked around for a moment, looking to the other mechanical items in the room, "Quick, bring those over, I can strip wires and electronics out of them for this thing…"

Several others brought over the items he had pointed to and Varis quickly dismantled each one, cutting sections of wires out and taking out the parts that he could use. This was still going to be rather close. But he should be able to do it.

Johnston Davis looked like every other marine on Romulus; if you didn't count the fact that he was just a smidge over 7 feet tall and close to 300 pounds. He had a bullish face that screamed marine. Everyone assumed he was, but the problem was, he wasn't a marine and had never been. He was a Science Officer, in the field of biological and technical development. But like everyone else, the Ensign had assumed he was a grunt and ordered him around.

Dropping the last of the items on the table, he stood watching, waiting. At some point he was going make a mistake and when that time came, Johnston was going to be waiting to pounce.

While Johnston still waited for his chance, blows were already dealt out far above him in orbit around Romulus. Phaser streaks, Photon and Quantum torpedoes crossed the vacuum of space to be answered with the fiery responses of Hellbore cannons and other alien weaponry. Shields did collapse, Hulls were ripped apart. Some ships were 'lucky' to be only crippled while others were totally annihilated.

The battle was fierce and went on with a murdering tempo, but even two hours later it was only in its beginning stages. One had to wonder where that would all lead to. There was no way to tell. The only thing that was known beforehand was that in the end, only one would come out victorious and that it would finally be all over. Another bloody chapter closed. Or one could just as well say, "Another cycle in history completed", since history repeats itself and this time it was no different. War, was of all times and

it comes and it goes.

The universe is made up of many cycles, birth and death, planetary movement around a heavenly body, the ebb and flow of a tide. Cycles were a part of the very fabric of life. It was at a turning point in one of these cycles that Steven now found himself. For almost four long years he had been in the doldrums, miserable and without the spark of life. But that had all changed when he had met Faylin. He had changed. No longer was he always miserable, no more feeling blue. She, just by being herself, had helped drag the Marine's sorry butt up from the sad pathetic place he had been at and had shown him that life was worth living. He was in love, madly in love at that. And he was happy again. Happier than he had been in a long time.

Yet as he stood watching Faylin sitting on the cot, clutching at her head as she waited for the nausea to pass, he felt a pang of guilt that he couldn't do anything to help her. No one had been able to determine what was wrong. Bran had tried with no luck, and some others tried, but also couldn't find anything. Though, the equipment here wasn't the best, and there were a heck of a lot of patients that needed care. What Steven really wanted was to get her up to the Galaxy so they could run all the extra tests that, quite frankly, were not really possible in a war zone.

But that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Almost three weeks had passed since he and the others had been sucked out of the ship. Three weeks since they had retreated away from ch'Rihan. And it didn't look like they were going to come back anytime soon. Not that they could tell if they did return with that purplish shield in place.

Walking softly over to her, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Hi babe, did you miss me?" He felt her shoulders clench briefly in surprise, before relaxing after he spoke.

Faylin jumped, mostly out of sheer exhaustion. "Yes." Her tired eyes rose to catch his, the paleness of her skin jumped out at the man that stood in front of her. His touch, usually light, felt overly heavy to her just then.

"I wish I knew what was wrong with me Steven..........this really bites." Her tone was simple, yet all Faylin. She was buried deep within herself, yet, she was still there.

"I know hon, I do too." Steven replied. "I doubt that Starfleet will leave so many of us trapped here. Perhaps the Galaxy is already on its way. And then I can get you back up to your comfortable bed and proper medical equipment."

She smiled softly. "I'm going to sleep for days....weeks even. You know....there was only one time that I felt this crappy for this long. That's when I was pregnant with Olivia."

Steven thought briefly at the events that had occurred a few days before where Faylin had believed that Olivia was with her sitting on her knee talking to her. He squeezed her shoulder gently. "It's only natural to miss her. I miss that I never got the chance to meet her."

"At least she's safe where she is...that's some comfort I suppose."

"It is, very much so. And I'm sure she wants to make sure that you get back to safety too."

"I'm sure." Came the curt reply. Her mind, obviously somewhere else.

"I ..." A commotion outside their small room gave him pause. Reaching for his rifle, he rose to his feet and turned towards the noise as he, instinctively, moved to position himself between whatever it was and Faylin. He hadn't heard weapons fire, but wasn't about to take any chances, especially on a foreign world now under the control of another alien species.

Looking downwards, Faylin grabbed her rifle, then put a hand on Jonas's shoulder.

He felt her rest her hand on his shoulder, and started towards the noise, since there were no other ways out except by getting closer to the commotion.

"The Fleet's back! The Fleet's back!" Someone yelled as they ran down the corridor.

Steven smiled at the news and turned to Fay. "I guess miracles do happen."

Her face remained deadpanned. "It's about god damn time."

Branwen had finally collapsed, the total of her wounds made it impossible for her to continue moving. She now lay in a corner of the crowded hospital room. As she was not local, nobody was looking out for her. No friends of family caring for her. Starfleet personnel that was around was too busy to notice one of their own being down. And her friends were busy at work.

She knew it was bad. As a child Branwen had suffered injuries almost daily, and because of it was a very good judge of when something was just painful but not dangerous, dangerous and not painful or both. Some of the wounds she had received now fell in both categories. The arm hurt, and was badly infected by now. Although that was not an immediate danger, she would not die from the infection for a few days yet. Neither were the broken fingers or all the bruises or even the burns deadly. It was the silly concussion, and a small piece of metal that had wedged its way just below her ribcage that were proving to be the problems.

As she lay there losing blood and consciousness her mind drifted back to home. As usual the thoughts were not pleasant. She was back in the cellar at home nursing a broken arm. A punishment received for not saying the selected Bible verses quickly enough in church that morning. Father had boxed her ears, and called her a stupid wench. Then after the service had expertly broken her arm under the watchful eye of the local priest. Without any treatment she was shelved into the cellar to think about her sine for the rest of the day. If father was in good mood she would be allowed to prostrate herself and atone in the evening in front of the congregation. If he was not she would spend the night in the cold without any food or drink. Her mother or her brothers and sisters would certainly not come and help. Everybody knew it would hamper her road to salvation.

That thought brought back yet another memory. When she had been smaller, about 5. She had watched Sally Perkins stand in the stocks on the small market square. Sally worked in the local grocery store has always been nice to little Branwen. She had asked her mother why Sally was being punished, and did not understand the answer. What was wrong with looking at other women, everybody did that. It was not polite to look away. But Sally was made to stand in the stocks for 72 hours. Everybody was free to throw rotten food at her and nobody was allowed to bring her any thing to drink or eat. Branwen had gone to Sally when she thought nobody was looking, and offered her some water. The poor girl has been so grateful, but unlucky for both one of Branwen's brothers had seen it all. It meant one of her first days in the cellar, and the first really severe beating her father had given her. Together with a lecture about the sins of women of which she understood almost nothing. Three days after being released from the stocks Sally Perkins drowned herself in the river.

It was cold, cold in the cellar and cold in the room, Branwen shivered and whispered a bit in her native language. Then she cried a little, despair gripping her. She didn't want to die, not right now. For the first time in her life she had found a man who wanted her. The young Welshwoman was very curious about exploring a relationship. Life was interesting now. Aliens didn't scare her some much any more, her father had been wrong, they were very nice people. Except for some green ones.

She was sleepy now, and more at peace. It was all right, Daddy would let her out any minute now. In the end he never forgot, he always looked out for her and her soul. It would be all right, after prayers she would be allowed to sleep in her own bed. The young woman smiled slightly just before she lost consciousness.

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Eight

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

Through the excitement of the Federation returning, every able body running to take up arms and make their last stand on the surface, Branwen's forlorn form was missed amongst the chaos.

It appeared that the return of the Fleet was enough medicine for some people. It was true indeed how the mind worked; knowing that above them in the bright morning sky the Fleet was assaulting their oppressors was all that some of the patients needed to hear to make them rise up off their death beds and pick up a rifle. Nothing that Robinson could administer would have that effect on them.

He watched somewhat stunned as the walking wounded got up and left. Those that had been sitting here for days rose from their cots and picked up a weapon, one guy that only had one arm, Robinson had long forgotten his name, even him, with one arm, got up off his butt and picked up a phaser!

Part of him wanted to intervene, to bring to their attention the fact that half of these men and woman were not fit to fight, yet at the same time the words escaped him as he felt a surge of pride in the duty and determination they showed.

As the troops filled out, whooping and cheering, Robinson turned to continue care for those that still lay wounded in the hospital.

As the group worked a gentle banter commenced. It was their way of removing themselves from the affiliation with the patients they attended, knowing how close they were themselves to succumbing to a similar fate as those on the operating table. The roof above them shook with the quakes from explosions that ravaged the planet above, a not so gentle reminder of that fact.

Dr. Ali took a moment to steal a glance across the ward. The wounded had stopped coming, for the moment at least. She knew that with the reemergence of the Fleet that soon this place would be overflowing once more. Yet it was weird that the room that had been full just a few moments ago was now so empty and quite. There were still patients to attend to, the children the next ward hadn't risen up to fight, and she would have stopped them if they had. The things that they had witnessed were enough; they didn't need to add that sort of carnage to their already disturbed minds. She wondered if Romulus had enough counsellors to attend to all those that would certainly need it once this conflict had ended. And for once she was confident that it would.

Her eyes flowed over to the empty steps, the sound of the soldiers' boots as they had left still fresh in her mind. "I wonder how they are getting on." she murmured softly.

As the midday sun beat down upon Romulus the fighting began once more. It had never really stopped throughout the last 20 days; it just seemed to rise and fall like the ebb and flow of the tides. Yet now the remaining troops swelled with a new clarity and resolve and the fighting took on a more feverish pitch.

Back in the bunker on the outskirts of Ki Baratan Captain Rogers and his Lieutenant stood over Private Cob, their expressions grim as Cob relayed the information he received through the decrepit transmitter.

"They have engaged…." Cob said straining hard to hear the report through the static and the shouting in the back ground that came through with the other mans' voice. Instinctively he pulled the receiver away from his ear as an explosion came clearly over the channel both in its ferocity and volume.

Rogers' face was unreadable as he stood there. Leonora studied him closely. She nodded to the Private that stood by the alcove, he entered the room, handing her padd. Nodding to him she waited for him to leave before looking back to Cob and indicating that he could continue.

"Fighting is serious… they are taking heavy losses."

Leonora closed her eyes. She had friends out there, people that she had worked with for years. She gritted her teeth to keep from showing her anger and pain.

"They request back up…" Cobb said looking up at his Captain expectantly.

Rogers shook his head slightly ~there is no one to back them up!~ he groaned inwardly, unable to keep the stony visage on his face.

"They are awaiting your orders Sir." Cob finished leaning back in the chair and removing the receiver from his ear.

Rogers sighed, another one of those tough decisions that he was beginning to really hate. Chewing on the inside of his cheeks he took a moment to gather his thoughts before replying.

"How far away are they?" he asked staring out across the room at the wall.

Leonora checked the padd on the desk, "About three miles East." she replied perching on the side of the table she folded her arms, "It would take us about half an hour to reach them, assuming that we aren't ambushed and the path is clear." she paused, still unable to read his face, unable to attain anything from his body language. It infuriated her. She used to be able to read her Captain, yet now he was unpredictable. And that was something she didn't like, it sent a chill through her body.

Finally after another long sigh Rogers shifted his feet and looked at Leonora. His eyes didn't quite meet hers, instead they settled somewhere near her top lip and nose. "Ready the men. I want everyone ready to go within five minutes."

She slid off the table, "Everyone Sir?" she questioned surprised. That would leave no one here at the base….

"Everyone." Rogers replied his eyes finally resting on hers, "We leave nothing."

The chill washed through her again as she stared into his eyes. Her stomach turned as she registered what he meant. Slowly she nodded, feeling her breath quicken with anger and her eyes welling with tears. Swallowing hard she tried to keep her face straight as she replied. "Ack…. Yes Sir." was all she could say. She didn't even wait for him to dismiss her, whirling around she fled the command hole. She couldn't let him se her cry. She was a Starfleet officer; this was part of her job. And if she ever wanted to sit in the big chair she was going to have to do exactly what he was doing.

Rogers turned to Cob, "Go." he instructed him simply.

Slightly confused Cob stood and saluted. His brow knitted as he left the room. Passing the lieutenant in the hall he paused, "Sir?" he questioned, still not understanding what had just transpired.

"Go pack Private. Tell the men we are moving out in five. Be quick." she said staring at the floor.

Nodding, Cob turned from her, frowning as he made his way back to the heart of the bunker.

Rogers took up the receiver; sliding heavily into the wobbly wooden chair he depressed the com button. "This is Captain Rogers. Your orders are to hold. Repeat, your orders are to hold. Please confirm…"

In the hallway Leonora let out a wail, the surge of emotion was overwhelming. Her breath caught in her chest and a dull ach punctured the space where her heart used to be. For all at once it shattered in her chest. Leaning against the wall she slid to the floor covering her mouth with her hand she cried, the tears cascading down her cheeks in waves.

"Accusations"

Lietuenant Erastus Ampete
Assistant Chief of Science, USS Miranda
Tir'len (npc'd by Chris)

Era had been given strict instructions not to wander above ground, yet her sense of direction was poor and her mind wandered just as much as her feet. She thought of home, and of the Miranda, and the prospect of people who were useless. And yet deserved to live.

It was a tough concept to swallow, and yet the more time she spent on occupied Romulus, the more useless she felt and the more she had to understand her own place.

Tir'len rubbed his temples as he followed the underground passageways, one of which ran right up to the grounds of his hospital and he'd 'never' known it existed before today. Was rather an interesting find... he hoped news didn't break among the patients.

And then he saw her.

"You bitch!"

Era turned around, an evident question of "me?" plastered on her face.

Then she saw who was talking to her and her eyes narrowed. "I thought we got passed the name-calling."

He stormed up, wishing he had something hard or sharp in his fists.

"You killed one of my patients!"

"You stupid man! Can't you tell the difference between me and a Hydran? Or did you never learn to count past two?" She took a step toward him, her fists balled.

He shoved her back. "A Hydran would know better than to put a helpless person in a combat situation you arrogant, insolent, idiotic, ruthless, blood thirsty shrew!"

Era stepped back from the shove, then came back and pushed him hard.

"I saved lives that day, you coward!"

"Yours! And I hardly think you're worth the sacrifice!" He shoved her harder this time.

"Not mine, you pointy-eared jack-ass!" She grunted from the shove and kicked his shin.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Tir'len grabbed the wounded appendage, hopping down on one foot before finally responding by head-butting Era. "Liar!"

It sent Era to the ground with a gasp of pain. "Fuck!"

"What you did was tantamount to killing an unarmed civilian!

Criminal!" He emphasized it by using his good leg to give her a hard kick in the stomach. "And for what?!"

Era curled her body around his leg, preventing another kick and at the same time trying to pull him down. "They chose to help! And I saved lives, you arrogant prick. People who saved even more lives because they survived that day."

Her trick worked, he fell flat on his ass with an 'ooompf' but little more. "They don't have the 'ability' to chose to help! Do you honestly think they knew, the way you or I know, what they were getting into?! You saved what, the lives of your own people?! At the expense of mine! The ones you were sent to protect?! You call me arrogant, yet you assume your own lives worth more!" He backhanded her.

The taste of blood from her split lip infuriated her. She launched herself at him. In a clearer state, she would have known that she was no match for him physically, yet at the moment she didn't care. Her fists came down hard at his head. "They can choose! You just keep them subjugated for your own sick power-trips!"

He grabbed her fists, forced to the ground by the power behind them, and rolled over until he was on top of her, reaching for a rock, piping, something to hit her with. "You obnoxious, stupid, moronic twit! A common Rigelian whore has more decency than you!"

"I did what I thought was right!" She spat at him, using the action to hide the panic that had arisen from being held helpless by a mad-man.

He grabbed her uniform lapels and threw her back against the ground.

It wasn't too hard, not for lack of trying, but enough to knock the breath clean out. "You were wrong!" He shouted at some point between depression and maddening hysteria. "You came to a world you knew nothing about, among a people you knew nothing about, and immediately began interfering! What the hell did it matter anyway, wasn't your people who's lives you were risking!" He pulled his fist back as if he was about to strike, but there was something in the way she looked, the gaze in her eyes, that made him pause and realize enough had been said and done already. If he 'did' kill her, he'd have sunk to her level, and that wasn't something he was prepared to do.

"You pulled me in," she hissed. "You trapped me, you manipulated me."

She lifted her chin. "Go ahead. Hit me. You think I don't see his face every day? You think I don't care about what happened? You have no right to judge me!"

"And you had no right judging them, but you did anyway!" Tir'len thundered back, rolling off to the side. "Useless, I believe is how you put it. You call your self a scientist, yet you speak like a fanatic!"

"You Romulans know all about fanaticism, don't you?!"

"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

Era laughed. There was no mirth in it - just anger and rage and derision. "That you're nothing! You're a little man in a big galaxy and you're pissing yourself you're so scared."

"And what are you, little woman?"

Era didn't have a good answer for that, but she'd be damned if she admitted that to him. "Watch your tone!"

"Or what?! You'll kill me too?! Your people come here in the name of our protection... then you hide among us like so many human shields so the Hydrans kill us looking for you! Then you go and kill them in the name of our security, so they kill 'my' people in revenge! You feed a cycle! A vicious cycle that punishes everyone else for 'your'

actions! Murderer!"

"You can't blame us for the cruelties of the Hydrans! What kind of logic is that?! Oh, that's right, Romulans don't like logic. Reminds you too much of your successful, honest cousins!"

"I'm not blaming you for what the Hydrans do, I'm blaming you for giving them a reason!" He punched her arm.

"Owe!" She kicked him. "Stop hitting!"

Tir'len sighed, leaning back against the wall, sitting on the floor... they'd 'really' gotten themselves deep. "You didn't have to inform the family. You couldn't even be bothered to say what happened."

"I had to go with my people," she growled, forcing back the sudden swelling of guilt. She'd never thought of that. "I had my duties to perform."

"Tell yourself that, if you must. But don't lie in such a fashion to me. You left because it was easier than doing what should have been done." He gulped. "Shouldn't really blame you too much, you're not the first, nor are you likely to be the last to do so."

Era shook her head. "That's not how it was." Damnit, why did she care what this man thought of her?

"Then how was it?"

"Why bother?" she sighed. "It won't change your mind."

"Try me."

Era pulled herself into a sitting position. "The Hydrans were defeated. They had a clear path back to the hospital. There were injured among my people, and I was under someone else's authority. If there'd been the chance to stay, I would have. I stand by my decision."

"I see." Tir'len murmured totally unconvinced. "So your kind of carelessness is not unique in the Federation."

Why was she sitting here, just taking this? "Fuck off." She rose to her feet and began down the corridor.

He watched her for a bit before beginning to break out laughing hysterically. It was just 'too' damned funny not to.

“Digital Angel”

Lt. jg Naranda Sol Roswell
Lt. Savant
Various NPCs (Eric and Colin)

*****USS Galaxy, Main Engineering*****

Naranda rushed through the doors of Engineering and went straight to a console to check systems. "Report!" She almost dared anyone to say something about her being late. She could get reprimanded later, but not now. Now they had to do nothing short than save the day.

The computer replied coolly - it reported with a string of system reports as class-five diagnostics rippled throughout the ship's processes, feeding the information back to the acting chief. The number of flagged and red lines in the report was disheartening.

The computer complied as usual. She looked about a bit at the engineers working. She meant vocal reports as well. "Well?" While she waited for the answer, she turned back and tried to rid the system of some of those red lines and flags. She clenched her jaws. They would go into battle and damned if she would let the ship down. Or the crew.

Someone shouted up from the upper level of the engineering bay in response, "The core's hot! We're getting stress fracturing in the crystals, twenty-seven thousand kilopascals!"

Another shout, this one from the reactor monitoring room - not too distant from Nara. "We've got to drop the reactor rate back down for awhile or the starboard transfer conduit's going to pop, Ma'm. Someone did a slapdash job on its last maintenance." And then all hell broke loose. The decks shuddered from the impact of T'Kith'Kin fire and a consol somewhere popped in a shower of sparks - no one was near thankfully.

"Keep me updated on the core. Drop the reactor rate, but get it working to go back up." All these words were a bit broken when she clung to the console before her. "And report on what THAT did!" She kept trying to work at the console, adjusting to bring the lines down, flags off, and such.

The engineers went about under her orders - the engineer beside her replied, "Yes Ma'm, I'll drop it down to ninety-seven." Then a beat, "Looks like the starboard PTC went down! Damcon team five is en route."

"Lovely," she muttered as she nodded.

Another hit rocked the vessel, shaking and moaning as damage was soaked up by the shields. "Starboard deflectors sections 7 through 10 down 15%!" A tech called from the second level.

Another one cried out - a bit of panic in his voice, "Nara, we're losing primary impulse control!"

"Get them back up!" She ignored the lack of protocol. Again, no time for such things. She moved over to him, "Why are we losing it?"

"Primary interface banks have been damaged, feedback from that last hit Ma'am!" Another voice called out, emanating from a pair of feet sticking out of an opened wall panel. "Working on it now."

Nara nodded, "Good." She went back and frowned. It seemed as if MORE red lines and flags popped up. She went to working on the console, ears ready for any reports from the crew.

Things were getting worse, and quickly - once battle was joined it was nearly impossible to keep up with the endless scroll of problems. In the end all one could do was attend to the worst things and hope that it went alright. However, there were sometimes *pleasant* unexpected surprises as well. "Coupling three on the Starboard PTC just started cracking, Ma'm! It's going to blow on the damage con- wait a minute." He looked over at Nara,

"Did you just shut down the starboard PTC?"

Nara looked over, "No, but that's a good idea."

"But it just shut down *on its own*." He pointed at the screen, "Temperature's dropping down to normal again. They don't' just shut themselves off - never mind. There's more important things to do."

Her brows furrowed a bit. Something to investigate later. "Is the team ok?"

"They're fine - panicked, but they're fine."

"Understood. Can they work?"

"Impulse controls restored to full functionality, Ma'am," the pair of feet called out over the din."

"I'm sure fight control would kiss you."

He shrugged and tabbed at a control on his screen, which provided a text version of the damage control team's reply, "They're on it now. They want two minutes."

"Only if it's Ms Dobryin," he said, crawling out from the wall.

"They have it until circumstances say otherwise." She didn't acknowledge the punch line.

The man beside Nara continued typing - fine-tuning the power systems of the ship to avoid damaged and strained areas - as he spoke, "We've lost a few veineers in the impulse vents, but we've got most of our maneuvering back.

They've seized - we'll have to wait until they cool off before we can fix them."

She let out a breath and nodded, "The second they're cool enough."

Exasperated she blurted, "Don't we have like a super intelligent super computer here somewhere?"

"Probably," LtJG John JJ Schmidt quipped. "I heard rumors bout her, but I hear she went wacko recently."

A voice came from the computer - sort of. It hung just behind her ear, as if someone was leaning close and whispering to her. "Actually, I'm just a program. But I'm flattered."

Hearing them, she spoke firmly, "Gossip later. Work now."

Nara blinked as it registered to her. She turned around, and she wondered, and decided to guess. "Savant?" Surely not. Surely she was just losing her mind.

She figured with all she's been through on this ship. It was bound to happen.

"At your service," the voice purred. It was asynchronous, calm and almost whimsical amidst the catastrophe. But there it was. The voice was low enough that no one else could hear it.

"Well, it might be less unnerving if I were losing my mind. Anyway, you see the issues we're having?"

John turned and grinned. "Holographic projectors are wonderful, ain't they Savant," he inquired as he turned to another consol, readjusting this and that.

Though there was no visible image, the grin was audible. "I'm marginally aware of them, what with the fact that I inhabit them."

John received similar treatment, a voice in his ear as if Savant were speaking in confidence. Both John and Nara could hear her now, but no one else. The two were getting strange looks from the others. "Once this issue is done with, I have several on order."

"Well, not sure I'm allowed to ask, but right now living and getting a reprimand seems a better alternative to the ship blowing up, so some help would be appreciated."

She ignored the others' looks. So she looked crazy. They still had to listen to her.

"Thine desire be evermore my motive. Appoint the task and thou shalt see't perform'd."

Nara rolled her eyes at the speech. She looked over the system checks again.

She tried to prioritize. How was life support? Weapons? Shields? Engines?

Which was worse off? Which would her or her crew not be able to fix quickly?

Her mind worked as quickly as any humanoids could. Likely still too slow for the likings of a program like Savant.

Then Nara decided rather than a problem; a job. It might be beneath Savant, but it was the best she could think of. "Mind doing the allocating power?

I'll call on your for an emergency, but that'd be a great help for right now."

A few of the people around her looked around and someone asked, "Which of us?"

Nara frowned, not realizing they couldn't hear Savant, "Savant."

John grinned. "Return to your work, boys and girls, this conversation is private." He snickered.

They seemed satisfied with that answer and did as asked.

She sounded dreadfully amused, especially by the reactions the other engineers were having. She didn't have a body with which to interact with humanity, so often did so by proxy. "Agreed," she replied.

Almost instantly, the power control board seemed to take on a life of its own. Faster than any person could type, power flows diverted, ending as damage and strain made paths unusable and beginning as auxiliaries took over. The man at this board took a half step back in surprise.

Nara looked at the man and smirked, "Your job was just taken over. Please find another." She sighed feeling a bit better. It was almost like a digital angel came to help. Not that Nara would tell Savant for risk or enlarging what she was sure a very large ego.

She and the others got back to work fixing systems. No less of a controlled chaos, but things were getting done faster. A sustained volley shook the great starship, much harder than before. So much at the same time, it overwhelmed the inertial dampners for a critical few milliseconds, tossing everyone about! "Port side shield sections 13 through 18 down to 10%!" A lowly little crewman yelled, seeing the red - almost black - indicators on his screen.

"That's way too low!" Nara moved to the console and looked, tapping at it.

Pursing her lips. Human nature repelled at the realization they needed help.

"Savant! Port side shields 13-18. Whatever you can do please."

Auxiliary generators hummed to unbidden life in response to the buckling shields; dormant plasma conduits urging them to assume their duties and reinforce the failing deflectors. Nara's screen was still grim, however - under such a pounding, even the reinforcements would soon fail.

Despite the urgency, Savant remained entirely calm-sounding. "Evacuate the areas around the generators. I'll try flushing the boson buildup, but it's going to mean a lot of radiation."

Nara nodded to John, delegating the job to him.

"Alright, Decks 10 and 11, sections 24, 25, and 26, this is Main Engineering. I need everyone to evacuate those areas immediately. Close up shop and get the hell out." He tapped the badge, closing the line before anyone could come back with a witty retort - that was his job.

As the areas evacuated, bulkheads sealed behind the closing doorways. They were radiation resistant and would block most of the side-effects. Perhaps not all, but anti-hydroxyl medications were abundant in inventory, so treatment was assured. There was a brief shudder as the shield generators vented streams of radiation into space. Ripples of blue cerenkov radiation spilled out across the bombarded hull of the ship.

"Past the Point of No Return"

Ensign Faylin McAlister

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

Romulus-As News Spreads The Fleet Has Returned-

The games of make believe were at an end for the woman as she studied the skies as the people crowded around her. Steven was at her side, although his actions were no longer known to her. Her anger bubbled within her. The dark knight stared at her, instantly breathing her in towards him. There was no used to her resisting any longer. He started to stir, anxious to have her as his yet again.

Flicking his wrist, he felt her inward struggle and smiled a crocked, evil smile. Anger at the fire of war, anger at the wickedness her soul wanted to feel, anger at the seductive nature she contained within herself were flaring, much to his sinister delight.

The secrets she kept revolted, wanting free, wanting to escape her and fly away to a land where they would be revealed. Her gaze narrowed, the darkness weaved itself around her soul, chocking the goodness out of it. Blinking quickly, something or someone bumped her. However, she knew who it was.

"What do you want?' She whispered.

"You know what I want...." He hissed in her ear.

"You........Faylin......you must give it to me....."

She closed her eyes, her mind groaning forcefully as the rusted lock around her soul opened. The flames within her fast consuming her, the heat ruining her cool temperature. "I can not."

He laughed at her, his knowledge of his power against her only he knew. "I will have you again. You will be mine once more my darling.

I will own you. He already owns you."

"That I know....I know he owns me."

"He doesn't know it......Seduce him backkk." His voice low, a growl of a depth only she could hear in this one sided conversation. The dark figure's finger caressed her cheek, while he buried his face in her hair. Her smell, he was obsessed with it. He created this creature for his purpose, she had yet to fulfill it. She was very close. Faylin needed to abandon thought and let him take over control.

His minion was she. She was possessed, her true calling was just within her reach. "You are past the point of no return...." His red eyes closed as he started to circle her with painstaking slowness.

Stopping, he steeled his gaze upon her, bearing into her soul he cupped her face with his hands. "Faylin.......stop fighting me."

She closed her eyes, her mouth turned downwards. He spun around her, his crimson robe covered her completely against the celebrating of the fleet returning. He silenced the joy, forcing her to pay attention to him and only him. Faylin knew....the crescendo of the past barrelled against her chest, forcing her to gasp.

He smiled. A smile of knowing, his tender passionate voice filled her ear yet again. "It's all I ask................seduce him.......get his secrets.........know who he is."

She spun on her heels, breaking the force for a moment. "I already know who he is." She spat with venom. "He's............."

The open gloved hand shadowed itself against the moon as it rose, signaling the end of the struggle she was feeling. The other spun her close to him, the palm of his free hand grasping her gently at the base of her neck as he nestled into her closely raising her head to rest against his upper chest. The devil started closing his fingers against the moonlight, one by one as he viewed his mistress's darker side begin to give in to his wishes. "He's? Who? Who is he Faylin?

Who is he really? Tell me........." The tension he felt was about to be released with one single admission.

"He's mine." She spoke with exhaustion in her tone. Faylin opened her eyes, completely black, with no hint of emotion as the sweet seduction of desire won her over to his charms. She leaned her head back voluntarily this time, as he brought his hand up underneath her chin claiming his prize with the steady grasp of his long fingers. Faylin brought her hand up, clamping down on his attempting to pry it from her throat in one final attempt. His fingers tightened, causing hers to release from his pressure. She fainted for a moment under his control. His eyes narrowed to slits, his hunger now satisfied as she gave way for him to have her completely. The serpent held her against his body, pleasure beating within him at his conquest of her again.

Her limp body awoke a short time later, and she responded to his touch as a woman who understood what was at hand. "He's mine." Faylin whispered with a new determination.

"Yyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeessssssssssss........he is. Only one thing stands in the way....the way to your freedom. Get rid of the problem Faylin....."

"How?"

"You know how, my princess, don't you?" As he turned around to face her, his face emitted a love only known between the most secret of partners. Secrecy, had it's place here, between her desires and wants, and her true needs. He knew her needs, and he knew what she wanted and desired most. His chest burst with pride as he viewed her finish the transformation before him.

Faylin lowered her head, her gaze settling on the imaginary picture of her target. "Yes.........I most certainly do."

"Counter-Offensive" Part One

Lieutenant Colonel For'kel Arvelion
Lieutenant Commander Mo'Bar Chief of Security/ Hazard CO USS London
Pilot Paulo "Hawkeye" DiMillo
Battle Chaplain Sanguinus Ephrial Templar
Senator tr'Khnialmnae (Eric)

________________________________

NPC's shamelessly put in the line of fire for the purposes of keeping our PC's alive:

The Death Company
USS London Hazards

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

There weren't a whole lot of Marines left, and those that were around were typically from mixed units. The 101st itself was effectively at 20% combat strength, with a number of officers and senior enlisted being taken out of the fight. For'kel himself had a bit of a limp, one that was a recent phenomena so to say. His legs had worked fine right up until he sat down with Arel for something approaching lunch, and afterwards it seemed his body was protesting moving anywhere. It really wasn't 'painful'... just a constant, numb, tightness.

One of the sections of the underground had been chosen for the next briefing. For'kel chose his people as carefully as he could. It would be no easy task assaulting a Headquarter's element. Word is a full company of Hydrans defended the structure at any given time. In addition to that, there were automated defenses, forcefield networks, the works.

For'kel took a deep breath before addressing everyone gathered. He knew most of them thought this would be another simple hit and run, the tactic was favored regardless of the target. They were going to be in for a bit of a surprise. The Colonel placed the butt of his rifle against the ground, trying not to make it too obvious he was using it for support. "Here's the deal. It's been decided we need to provide the fleet with as much intelligence on our Hydran counterparts. The plan is to get in close to their HQ without setting off any alarms. We'll gain entry, secure the building, hack their computers, and use their own comm relays to transmit the data."

Hawkeye nodded. "Sir," he started, "anyway we could add a flight strip to the attack plan? It would help a lot, not only here but in any future battles, if we could get our hands on one or two Hydran fighters. Knowing how they work could help save many officers in the future."

For'kel thought on it. Certainly it would be a good find to get ahold of a fully operational, front-line fighter. "There should be a fighter base a couple of kilometers from the HQ. If we have time, we'll scope it out."

Hawkeye nodded.

Battle Chaplain Templar stood to the side of the main body, a contingent of soldiers just behind him. Large muscle bound brutes, each was only outclassed in sheer physicality by Templar himself. They were complimented by a selection of scrawny mischevious individuals.

These were his men and women, the black clad Death Company. They had sworn to follow him to hell and back again, should it come down to it.

"Brother Colonel, should this mission require exessive use of force, the Death Company stands ready."

For'kel raised an eyebrow. He really needed to start asking people where it was they raised their private militia's from. Still, he was glad they were there. "I'll keep that in mind." His eyes drifted

back to the group at large. "We'll need to move quickly and quietly.

As soon as we hit the place they're likely to call for reinforcements, so we'll have minutes at most. Ready?"

Hawkeye nodded and picked up his phaser rifle and double checked it. "Ready."

"Okay." For'kel slung his rifle over his shoulder. There were others waiting for them... between his remaining Marines, the Romulans, and mixed units containing Starfleet Security, Hazard, an odd downed pilot or so, and Marines from other units, about 300 troops had been assembled for this one assault.

The rest were waiting outside, but everyone knew the plan. They were as ready as they would ever be. "Let's go."

-----

Elsewhere...

Mo'Bar had spent almost eleven days evading capture, and he started to get the feeling that in that time he had covered almost every square inch of Ki Baratan. If not, he'd likely covered the equivalent number of inches, only several times. This was Romulus after all, it all looked the same. Of his Hazard Unit that had started this mission to ch'Rihan, all that accompanied him now were Seven Men. Well, Six Men, and the units female XO. Mo'Bar had heard nothing of what had happened to those that he'd started this campaign with, but he'd be damned if he was gonna give up.

He knew that there was still fighting going on throughout Ki Baratan, and presumably the rest of the planet, and maybe that was why his team had managed to survive for as long as they had. The Hyrdans were getting more than they bargained for. Mo'Bar just wished he could get in on the action that much more.

They were making their way to the target in platoons of 50. 4 Platoons would secure the corners of the facility itself, the remaining 2 being the assault force. The Headquarters was a fairly substantial building not far from the seat of the Romulan government, making a large force necessary if they were going to remain long enough to get the job down.

Templar and the Death Company constituted one of those assault platoons, the other being a force of Rihannsu led by none other than Senator tr'Khnialmnae, and included the two praetorians he still commanded. The various military commanders had tried to convince him to stand down, but he would have none of it. "I've been a soldier in my day, and I still retain my knack for battles and tactics: once a soldier, always a soldier. Besides which, I lead by example - by putting my own life on the line in full view of those I intend to lead when all is said and done, the People will support me more thuroughly when they undersand that their leader is willing to die to protect those he Serves."

The pointman of the group gave the halt signal. They all dropped to one knee, except For'kel who found it far less physically demanding to simply crouch and make his way up to the front. "What is it."

"About a hundred meters off our right." The Bolian murmured. "A squad, seven or eight."

For'kel narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the sillhouettes. They certainly didn't seem to be Hydran, but that didn't necessarily make them friendly either. He'd been shot at by Romulans once too many to assume otherwise. "Second and third squads take the flanks. First squad get a fix, fourth is with me." They had to go and make contact after all. If he was going to die, today was going to be it. For'kel seemed certain of it.

Paulo took up a position behind the 'Colonel as he lead the way in.

Paulo really hated being a ground pounder, but he had gotten the hang of it in the past few weeks, but he wasn't perfect. That being shown that he had been captured and later rescued.

"'Commander" Lieutenant Welsh called out, as she approached him. "I've got life sign readings. Lots of them. I think we're surrounded sir."

"We prepare for the worst." Mo'Bar ordered, glancing at his troops.

"Assume defensive positions. If we go down, we go down fighting."

Crouching behind a small wall, Mo'Bar waited for whatever was to come.

Hopefully, it wouldn't bring with it death.

The orders were bassed down to the various Platoon Leaders, and each unit grabbed whatever cover there was, positioning themselved to place Arvelion and the Command Team in the center of the conglomerate formation for maximum security and defence. It wouldn't do to loose Command and Controll so soon into the operation.

For'kel stopped and took a knee to observe the situation. The unit they encountered was arrayed in a defensive perimeter. What gave them away however wasn't what he saw... the Stagnorian determined there was a 'definite', and distinct sound of a translator putting Klingon into standard. He whispered loudly enough to be heard, and quickly enough to keep his own position secret.

"Marines?"

"No, Hazard." Came a reply.

Son of a bitch, For'kel thought to himself sighing. "We almost shot you!" Still, it was better than running into a squad of Hydrans. "Come on, we've got a mission to accomplish and I can use your help."

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

(The Hydran District HQ)

The District HQ was located in a fairly opulent building that might have been a hotel or conference structure for high-ranking Romulans. He wasn't really sure, For'kel was too tired to give a damn anyway. It was big, lavishly decorated, and had a classical look to it. Outside, at least a platoon of Hydrans, reinforced by Breen and T'Kith'kin squads...

That sure as hell didn't bode well. There was no telling how many were actually in the structure, and such security typically meant there were rather high-level people involved. The convoy of young Romulan women in magnetic restraints, followed by old men being brought in hauling what looked like looted fineries and high-class goods made it obvious to him that his initial assumptions were right. This was going to be even tougher than he thought.

"Templar, get your men into firing position. Make sure you designate targets. If things go badly you're going to have to complete the mission. I need five volunteers, who's with me?"

"Maestro"

Flt. Admiral Victor Murdock
Marshall Severina Jovanovic
Captain Matthew Albrecht
Lt. Colonel Gail Dawson
Lieutenant Onara Landia
Lieutenant Arlen Hammertly
LtJG Chris Daniels
Ensign Kelly Marcos
CPO Seran Aerk

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

CIC, Deck 7
USS Miranda

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

"They're waking up!" one of the junior officers called from across the CIC.

Albrecht checked his chrono. "Six minutes. Not bad - longer than we thought."

Chris checked the master holo-table. So far, so good on the battle.

But they hadn't been able to knock out all the disabled ships in six minutes, so the hornet's next would be buzzing shortly.

"Sir, Hydran fighters warming up to launch! Estimate 3 minutes before they're in the air!" came the call from CPO Aerk.

Chris looked at Murdock, Albrecht and the other assembled fleet staff.

"Recommend we launch all our remaining fighters and move to intercept, sir."

Lieutenant Onara glanced up from her position on the starboard side of the CIC, surrounded by the various fighter coordination staff. "I concur, Admiral."

"Do it, then." Murdock nodded, and heard Jovanovic calling the orders out to the flight decks across the fleet. All assets were now in play, save for the Marines.

Standing behind one of the communications techs, and diminutive woman in a crisp white uniform smiled tightly, three new stars glinting from her collar. Severina Jovanovic had been a fighter division commander a week before, when Admiral Murdock had walked into her office and handed her another star. Strictly speaking, she didn't have an official command yet. She had just been brought along with the flag staff and given operational authority over all fighter craft in the fleet.

Turning to the Master Chief next in the chair beside her, Jovanovic gave a clipped order. "Signal the fleet; full launch. Order the 176th Division to exclusively engage T'Kith'kin units and hold them clear of the capital ships. The Hydran and Breen fighters don't have quite so many heavy weapons on them. Let the other fighters deal with them. Tell the Seventeenth Wing to fall into escort around the flagship, and make sure someone is doing the same for the other three flagships. If not, send them some of ours."

At this point the Starbeast felt the brunt of transphasic torpedoes hitting its shell. Chris got his hopes up too soon, and they quickly crashed as scans showed the thing had survived. In the ensuing confusion, he listened to the bridge conversation about the plan to send the Starbeast into the T'Kith'Kin fleet. ~Good idea, but who's protecting us against the other 1100 ships out there?~ he thought to himself.

Almost on cue, the ship took a hit, not a severe one, but enough to rattle some people's teeth. Hammertly turned angrily from his station at Weapons Control. "Dammit, Daniels, we need weapons release authority down here! We would have nailed him if we did."

Chris tapped the headset he was wearing with the bridge link on it.

"K'aa, am I going to get firing authority???"

The reply from the Gorn was almost overwhelmed by a deep crackling sound filling the Miranda's hull. [Aft-port, aft, and aft-starboard firing arcsss only, Chrisss – K'aa authorization beta-tango-five.

Fusssion-beam capital shipsss only at thissss time – no Hellbore targetsss unless threatening part of our fleet."

Chris grunted...getting half of the firepower was good enough, he guessed. He entered his own access code, and one of the stations in front of him became a targeting and trigger panel. "Hammertly, transfer aft weapons fire consent the CIC. Marcos, find me something big to shoot."

His two co-workers hustled into action, searching for targets and bringing up firing controls.

Marcos called out from the Combat Control station. "I have a Hydran carrier bearing two-two-one, 97 km, looks like he's trying to broadcast to the fleet."

Chris nodded and looked over at Hammertly. "Weapons free, Mr. Daniels."

Chris didn't hesistate. He had three dead crewmen to pay the Hyrdrans back for. He depressed the trigger and watched as three different phaser arrays broadcast their angry message into the carrier, lancing through the hull. As it began to roll listlessly, he got a sick sense of retribution from it.

"Jamming signals coming from the T'Kith'Kin, switching to secondary frequencies."

K'aa's deep hissing once again came through Chris's headset. "CIC – ssselecting new targetsss on forward attack vector… detail ssscansss on T'Kith T'Kin Trilobite-class in the forward formation."

"We're on it, K'aa." Chris pointed at Aerk, manning Sensor Control, who aimed the sensors to that area.

As the junior officers worried about the Miranda, Murdock and his people were concerned about the fleet at large, watching the movements and formations, the ebb and flow of the battle now that the Hydrans and the Breen were back into it.

"Cruiser Wing 6 and Destroyer Wings 12 and 32 - move to Quadrant a-14 and engage that Hydran carrier group. Galaxy wing three, you've got a Hiveship group coming up on your flank. Use attack pattern Delta-three." the old Scotsman ordered. He watched in satisfaction as the group, headed up by the Venture, followed the orders and successfully annihilated the T'kith'kin carrier and it's attendant destroyers. Unfortunately, the attack cost him two ships - an old Excelsior, the Brian Henry, and one of the Klingon Vor'cha's - the D'khegh, if he read it right.

From CiC, the battle proceeded in such a fashion - marred only by the occasional rocking of the ship. Still, the Admiral wasn't worried about the Miranda. Jaxom and his people up on the bridge would keep her going.

The big problem was that damn starbeast. It's effectiveness was hampered by the fact that all allied ships were staying out of the range of it's attacks, striking only with torpedo strikes. But even transphasics just weren't doing enough damage. Blast it all, what the hell was keeping the bloody thing alive?"

Chris looked over a display of the holotable and hurried over to where Murdock and his team were standing.

"Sir, we have the Triad fleet backed into a corner. If we move this block of ships to here" he pointed to the relative locations closest to the planet--"we can back them up against their energy field and concentrate our fire from a larger mass."

Victor nodded at the young Lieutenant's assessment. The speed of the Allied fleet's attack, and the subspace pulse trick had given the allies a decisive advantage in the opening stages of the battle, and they were bulding well off of that momentum. "Aye, that's the goal. We still need ta - "

Two things then happened in quick succession - and only one of them had he planned for.

A section of the planetary shield over Romulus flared up, slightly north of the capitol of Ki Baratan. Then, he could see clearly - "The shield is down." he smiled. "Marshall - "

"On it, Admiral." the SFFC flag officer replied, tapping her comm headset. "Renegades, Paladins, Guardians, Vanguards, there's a hole in the shield. Proceed through as planned and bring down that field from the inside."

Murdock tapped his own headset after that. "Flagship to all ships - there's a hole in the shield. Launch all troop landing craft. Fighter Groups and Destroyer wings, escort them in."

He'd only barely gotten those orders out when something new popped up on the screen - Maybe two dozen contacts, coming out of warp.

"Somebody better be tellin' me who that is, and fast!" he barked out, waiting for the scan image to resolve itself.

"Checking!" 'Colonel Dawson and Lieutenant Daniels replied simultaneously. The Lieutenant came up with it first.

"Identity confirmed, Admiral... those ships.. are Lyran."

"Second Strike" pt II

Acting Captain Jaal Jaxom
Lieutenant Th'Khiss K'aa, Acting CTO
Commander Jack Dawson, Chief Engineer
Lieutenant John Ramirez, Chief Flight Controller
Lt. Colonel Alex McKeon

==USS Miranda, Bridge==

"Jack," Jaal called from the center seat while checking his own displays in the arms of the command chair, "grab some of those fighters with the tractor beam. If they aren't gonna use them, we will."

Thankful that they had taken the time to upgrade the beam strength of the tractor beam so many years ago when Wolfson was Chief Engineer, Jack punched up the controls to coral the abandoned fighters.

"Fighters in tow, Captain. Tractor beam operating at eighty percent of capacity," he said.

"Hydran ships are coming back online!" Alex called out from the Intelligence station. "Starbeast is moving to Attack Fleet one - looks like it has a taste for us!"

"This time we aim to give him a big, bad belly-ache," Jaal commented.

He wetted his lips while waiting for McKeon's report.

The 'Colonel's hands deftly moved over it's keyboard, running a pattern match on the Starbeast's movements. "Running pattern match - confirmed. It's a Klingon ritual war-dance this time. Transferring movement pattern to the tactical computers."

["Good work, Mr. McKeon."] Murdock said over the commline. ["This is Murdock to all ships. Abandon current targets - we'll come back to 'em. Hit the starbeast with everything. As noted before, use of tranphasic torpedoes IS authorized."]

Jaal added his own authorization as was required and the appropriate lights turned green on K'aa's console. "Lock and load K'aa. Were gonna have an old fashion barbecue." He turned his attention to Dawson for a moment, "release the fighters we picked up at the next convenient target Jack. We don't want to tie up any power we could use elsewhere right now."

Reversing the polarity of the beam's emitters, Dawson hurled the cluster of fighters towards the nearest Hydran cruiser. Seconds later, they collided in a brilliant flash of light. The micro-cores of each of the fighters feeding off the others, effectively engulfing the over-confident Hydran vessel before it could raise its shields.

"Fighter's released, sir," Dawson reported.

From Tactical, a deep growling hiss came from Lieutenant K'aa, who had finished arming the first brace of transphasic torpedoes - Starfleet's most powerful weapon. "Hrsssaaaa.... ssstill cannot achieve weaponsss lock on the Ssstarbeassst, but I've loaded the movement pattern onto the firing matrix. Ready to fire on your sssignal, Captain."

"The signal is given," Jaal stated with no hesitation. "When you get the shot, take it." The commander had no intentions of wasting any opportunities, to do so would mean another defeat and that was something he knew no one on the ship would stomach. The sooner the beast was taken out the sooner mopping up the rest of the enemy could start.

From the Helm, Ramirez did his best to evade the enemy fire, to keep the enemy weapons at bay. At the same time, he tried to manoeuvre the ship closer to the Starbeast, to give the Gorn a clear shot. Not an easy feat, especially with so many ships shooting at him.

"Keep it together son" he heard from behind him. No guesses as to who the voice belonged to. He daren't look up though, he daren't take his eyes of the console. That could've meant the difference between life and death.

As the starship banked to bring the Starbeast into fore firing arc, K'aa entered the final pattern into the torpedo controls. "Manual targeting now...firing... transsssphasssic torpedoesss away!"

Five smallish, orange specks of energy flew from the Miranda's launchers in rapid succession, streaking through the vacuum towards the leviathan. The Gorn narrowed his eyes as he traced the torpedoes progress. A satisfying hiss revealed more fangs on the reptilian's stony expression - and he thanked the Klingons for being such terrible, lumbering dancers. Three torpedoes slammed into the side of the gargantuan creature, vaporizing a full third of the things incredible mass. The Starbeast slowed in its progress towards the Federation ship and writed in agony, huge, whiplike tentacles flailing randomly. Three small Hydran strike cruisers too close to their god received the wrath of its agony and burst apart like eggs as they were struck by the creatures fury.

His eyes fixed on the tactical scanner, K'aa couldn't help but marvel

at the alien behemoth's endurance. "Incredible. It'sss ssstill

alive... and regenerating, but ssslowly. Hrrrsss... it seemsss to be absssorbing the organic debrisss from the Hydran cruisersss to regenerate itsss bulk."

McKeon snorted from station. "They're cheating!" the Intel officer protested, rather loudly.

Jaal's mouth formed an unhappy sneer. There was precious little in the galaxy that could stand up to transphasic torpedoes... that was the theory anyway. The Trill hated having to test theories when the results didn't exactly go the way one wanted. He kept his eyes on the main viewer and watched as the beast seemingly magically healed itself.

A gleam of epiphany then came to the Gorn's eye and he looked from the scanner display. "Captain - we should lure the creature towardsss the T'Kith T'Kin fleet! It's insstinctsss seem to be to repair itssself even while under the compulssion to attack usss. The insssectoid warshipssss are the largessst organic targetsss in the system other than the Ssstarbeasst itssself. The resssulting chaossss would be...

consssiderable."

The Trill commander immediately began tapping away at the console on his chair's armrest. "Ramirez, make a beeline for the group of T'Kith'kin ships at four-four mark one-seven-eight fast enough to keep out of the beast's reach. K'aa, prepare another spread of transphasics. Dakota, let the rest of our group know the plan." Jaal studied his armrest readouts. The Miranda was taking hits but the shields were holding within normal parameters... for the time being.

However, the enemy really hadn't had a chance to mount a meaningful attack on the Miranda yet.

"Fair enough" John replied with a muck huff, "and there was me thinking that you wanted me to do something hard." Punching in the controls he said, "coming around to Four-Four Mark One-Seven-Eight, engines ahead full" The Miranda swung around smoothly, although Ramirez could've sworn that she didn't feel right. Didn't feel the same. He also got the feeling that he could've done much better.

A deep crackling sound filled the bridge, fading in the span of several heartbeats. "Ensssign Tagra'ss shield modification sssemss to be working – that wasss two Hellbore ssstrikess to the aft shieldsss.

Power conduitsss ssseem to be holding. The energy cassscade hass ssstrengthened our weakened shield and reduced the recharge lag on the phassser cannon by sssss… twenty-eight percent."

The reptilian's thoughts were interrupted by a comm from the CIC.

Daniel's voice was strained, but controlled. "K'aa, am I going to

get firing authority???"

The ships approaching to aft were getting too close for the Gorn's comfort. [Aft-port, aft, and aft-starboard firing arcsss only, Chrisss – K'aa authorization beta-tango-five. Fusssion-beam capital shipsss only at thissss time – no Hellbore targetsss unless threatening part of our fleet."

Looking at the Miranda's new approach vector, K'aa targeted a T'Kith

T'Kin warship in the vanguard of the Insect fleet. ""CIC – ssselecting new targetsss on forward attack vector… detail ssscansss on T'Kith T'Kin Trilobite-class in the forward formation."

When the Miranda hummed once more under the recoil of the great weapon's discharge, the Gorn realized that this was the first time he had engaged the Hive in open warfare. The Breen and the Hydrans were races he understood and could rationalize. The T'Kith T'Kin represented a sinister unknown, a society even more insular and xenophobic than his own, yet expansionist and capable of genocidal atrocities. A cold shiver raced up his spine as his scanners showed a

bright plume on the enemy ship's front shielding. "Glancing hit –

targetsss fore shieldsss are at fifty-two percent. We are at nineteen-thousand kilometersss and closssing fast. The Ssstarbeassst isss in full persssuit… ".

More loud crackling announced the impact of more Hellbore fire accompanied by Fusion-beam strikes on the Miranda's aft shields. Once again the damaged shields were shored with the extra energy, and K'aa was inwardly delighted when the phaser cannon's recharge cycle was halved.

Jaal decided someone was getting a medal for those shield modifications. If this had been the last battle they would have retreated by now. He anxiously watched the T'Kith'Kin ships loom larger on the screen.

As the Miranda began leading the Starbeast towards the T'Kith'Kin portion of the Triad fleet, Jaal heard something interesting come up on the fleet channel - orders to land ground troops. Apparently there was a hole in the shield now.

"New contacts!" Alex called out, shortly after they'd heard orders being issued to the fighter squadrons to take down the shield from the inside, and to other squadrons to escort the hoppers in. On the screen, they could already see thousands of fighters and landing fraft heading for the hundred-kilometer hole someone had opened over Ki Baratan with, of all things, nukes. "More ships coming in, Captain."

"What are they?"

Alex spun around to face Jaal in his chair. "I might be wrong, but it looks like they're.. Lyrans."

"Doomsday" pt III

Elaithin Jii
Jordan Elaithin
Commander Arel Smith
Lt. Commander Spa'an
Major Peter Shaw
Lieutenant Victor Krieghoff
Admiral Sela

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

The Undercity
Ki Baratan, Romulus
21 Days after the Withdrawal

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

A moment later, Krieghoff returned - hand wrapped tightly around Admiral Sela's forearm. "Tell your henchman to unhand me, Elaithin."

"He's not my henchman, Sela, he's a Starfleet officer."

"Same thing," she said acidly.

"No," Victor said softly. "Not really. Henchmen follow orders out of loyalty to an individual and their goals. I follow his orders out of respect, which is a different thing entirely. No matter what he told me, or what he wanted, if I thought you were a threat to him or the others I would have killed you without blinking. I almost did it anyway."

"An almost militaristic doctrine, one with which you should be supremely familiar," Spa'an added, practically taunting the Vulcan-disdaining Romulan with his cool tone and effortlessly raised eyebrow. Jii was not the only one who was familiar with Sela. The science officer's contacts on Romulus had provided him with enough information on the Admiral to make her far more than a familiar face.

Elaithin fixed a firm stare on the Romulan Admiral, and folded his arms. "You know what this is, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Care to share with us, Admiral?" Arel asked, her hand tightening on her phaser.

Sela blew out a breath between her lips. "It's a... backup plan. From during the Earth-Romulan War. Some were terrified that Earth forces would conquer our world, and so this was built, in the event that the situation ever became so untenable. We would die before we were enslaved."

"A doomsday device," Jii said under his breath, in astonishment.

"You'd destroy the entire planet, rather than let anyone else have it?"

"Rather than be conquered by a civilization they couldn't possibly understand to Only Knows what ends," Jordan replied, eyes focusing on the Romulan in front of her. "In a way, Jii, we should be able to understand. Sometimes desperation and fear makes us act in irrational ways that will be detrimental in the long run."

"Indeed," Spa'an concurred. "And Romulan and Terran history are both replete with many illustrations."

"I always thought the Romulans where stupid," Pete said and got a few glares. "Well, coming from my perspective we all knew Earth wasn't going to conquer the planet." He looked around, "anyway we can use this to help the fleet when they come back?"

"No." Jii shook his head. "The only thing we can do is destroy it, to keep the Hydrans from using it."

"You don't have that authority, "General." Sela interjected, sneeringly. "This is a Romulan military installation - "

"- Which you knew about, and had reason to suspect was under Hydran control, or you wouldn't have followed us, Sela." Elaithin interrupted. "So your opinion on the matter doesn't mean a damn thing to me. I will not allow this planet to be destroyed. Not by a fool like you, who would have used it three weeks ago, or by fools like them, who would use it soon. Because do know this - The Miranda and the Galaxy will return to this world, and when they do, they will be bringing a whole bunch of friends. And they will send the Hydrans running. Do you know how I know this?"

Sela didn't reply.

"Because I know these people, Sela. I know some better than I know myself. And they do not take failure well. And that means they will move heaven and hell to correct things - because that's who they are.

They're some of the best. This world WILL be freed. And I am not about to let the billions on this world, and the thousands more in the space around it get killed for that because your people were paranoid and crazy two hundred years ago. We are going to destroy this thing, and we're going to do it *now.* Anyone who disagrees had better get moving."

"Yes," Victor said into the silence that followed the statement. "I'll stay and do it if no one else will. I won't watch this happen. Nie weider."

No one else objected, not even Sela.

Krieghoff nodded. "All right. But before we start, I need to know

this: what sets this thing off? I need to know what to keep people away from and what to either shoot or not shoot depending on how the device is triggered. I don't want a mistake to fire this off and start something that I might not be able to stop."

Pete sat back murmuring to himself. "Great, we are going to blow up a big bomb in such a way it wont kill us all," he said under his breath.

"Well, we better decide fast. That argument just caught us some attention."

"They were coming already, Pete." Elaithin replied, clapping the Marine on the shoulder. "Right, Arel?"

The Security officer just nodded - she'd had her weapons trained on the approaching pair of guards for almost ninety seconds at that point. "Ready when you are, Captain."

Elaithin nodded. "Allright folks. On three, we storm the castle. One, two.."

"Distractions"

Gwen Parri, acting CMO
Petty Officer Thomas Eugene Boston, Engineering Specialist (Written by Stuart)

****

Sickbay
USS Exeter

****

(Occurs prior to the return to ch'Rihan for the Second battle)

Thomas, or Tommy to his friends, hobbled into sickbay. His leg felt like it was on fire. In fact, for a few moments it had been. "Is anyone able to have a look at my leg?" he asked as he made his way, in agony, over to the only unoccupied bed.

"On my way." Gwen called out without looking. "Just a minute." And indeed 56 seconds later she came to the bed. "Gwen Parri, MD." She introduced herself.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am. I'm Thomas, Engineering specialist." he replied.

"What seems to be the problem. Can you get on the bed without help, Thomas?"

Gwen sterilised her hands, so she was ready for this next patient.

Tommy hopped up onto the bed so the young doctor could take a look. As she pealed away at the burnt uniform, and got a closer look at his now badly burnt flesh, he told her what had happened. "I was checking the Plasma conduits when one of them burst, sending hot plasma onto my leg." He nearly blanched when the smell of his burnt flesh assailed his nostrils. He didn't know how the woman could stand it.

"That must hurt like hell, Tom." She said softly. "So first I am going to give you something for the pain." The redhead administered a hypo. "And now I need to get your uniform away from your leg and clean the wounds as quickly as possible. It still might hurt a bit, but that can't be helped, I'm sorry." She looked at him with compassion.

"It hurts like hell, ma'am. But I've been through three ugly divorces, and several broken bones, and have developed a small tolerance towards pain.

That and the salve that I briefly placed on it before coming here." He smiled, hoping to forget just how bad his leg looked.

Gwen smiled at him while she put on protective glasses. "You have a positive attitude and that always helps, Tom. Now hold on."

Thomas gasped as she began pulling the tattered uniform, and shreds of the uniform from the wound.

"Nearly there, Thomas. Nearly there, then I can start healing. You are doing a great job. Three divorces you say, you must be a real heartthrob with the ladies."

"Na, not really. Just keep meeting the wrong girls." Thomas replied. "They all were like angels at the start, but as soon as that ring is on their finger, man they seemed to change overnight. What about you ma'am, are you married?"

"Engaged." Gwen said. "For the first time. And you don't need to call me ma'am. The name is Gwen. You are doing great, I am nearly there."

"How long have you been engaged for, Gwen?" He asked.

"Only a few weeks. It still very fresh, and exciting." It was good to have a conversation going out to take his mind of the pain.

Thomas nodded. His had been fairly short engagements, with the last being only a year. He had come to realize something about women in his life...

And that was that Men pretty much will never know just what women really want in a man. It had cost him his first and third marrages. That and the fact that they had wanted to change and control his life, who he could be friends with, what they did out in public and all that. He had gotten sick of the nagging really fast. Which was why he was now single and enjoying life again.

"That's the last of it. Now I can start to examine the wound. Tell me if it hurts too much, okay. I want to make this is quick and painless for you as possible."

Thomas nodded and gritted his teeth at the pain he knew was forthcoming. As she poked and prodded, he tried not to cry out, but finally couldn't take it and whimpered in pain. "That hurts." he said through his still clenched jaw.

"I'm sorry, hon. I'm trying to be is gentle as possible." She lay a cool hand on his forehead.

"Do you have anything for the pain?" Thomas asked.

"I have given you a lot already, I can give you a little more." She administered another hypo. "It won't be long now, and I will try to the extra gentle especially for you." Gwendolyn smiled.

Thomas smiled. "Thank you Gwen. Um... Begging your pardon, but I haven't seen you around the ship before. Are you new here?"

"Yes, I am. I am one of the people who came over from the Miranda to help out." She hoped and thought that he was one of the people who didn't mind their presence.

"Ah, I always wanted to get a posting on one of those, but nothing was available after my last post and I've come to like it here on this ship." His mind was fully on Gwen and the conversation they were having that he didn't notice the pain anymore.

"I could put in the good word for you. The captain is always on the lookout for good people." She knew that would keep his mind of the pain and she meant it.

"Thanks," Thomas replied, "but at the moment I have a couple of women who think I'm a... what was it you said,... 'heartthrob' and I wouldn't want to deprive them of the object of their attention.." He grinned.

"A proper Don Juan." She grinned. "How many hearts have you broken lately young man?"

"I wouldn't call myself that. But from all the broken hearts, I've learnt one thing of great importance. And that is, when you find the one person in the universe that makes your heart melt, the one person you'd die for, the one person that you don't know what you'd do without them, when you find that person, hold onto them. Don't let them go. Cause often you only get one chance at love. I haven't yet found the one for me, so if this fiancee of yours is the real deal, then hold onto them tight. Show them that you will always be there for them and they'll respond in kind." It was after that long statement that he realized that Gwen was done cleaning the wound and was in the middle of bandaging up his leg up.

"You're absolutely right." Gwendolyn said softly. "After this is all over, we will get married as soon as possible." She finished the last of the bandages. "There you go."

"Thanks doc." He replied as he tried to put his weight on the leg. Feeling very little pain, he smiled at the young woman. "That feels much better."

"I will give you some medication to take for the pain. Especially when you go to bed. And I would like to check you in a day or two."

"Sure doc. I hope you don't get too many people in here during the upcoming battle." He said. He didn't believe a word of what he had just said, but felt she might want or rather need to hear it. He knew what they were about to do was not going to be pretty. For anyone, let alone beautiful medics with a fiancee out there somewhere. "Thanks for the patch up" he said with a smile before turning for the door.

She watched him go, glad to be able to help. Has thoughts wandered back to Anjoli and the Miranda. She could only pray they would all come through the upcoming battle without too many problems. Despite being busy Gwen missed her girlfriend dreadfully. But there was no time to dwell on that too much.

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Nine

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

=^="This is Captain Rogers. Your orders are to hold. Repeat, your orders are to hold. Please confirm…"=^=

At the other end of the line the Lieutenant bowed his head. He exhaled slowly letting out the breath he had been holding for what had seemed like an eternity. "Understood Captain." he replied. Once the channel was closed he tossed the receiver across the table and rested his head in his hands.

Around him the fabric of the tent that had been erected to form his own little command bunker fluttered in the breeze. Anger surged within him and he took the only inanimate object that held little importance, his cup, and threw it across the floor.

The sound as it shattered wasn't enough to quench his anger, rising from the chair brusquely, the back legs catching in the dirt ground causing it to topple backwards and make the Lieutenant trip. He cursed loudly, turned round and in his rage he kicked the chair repeatedly.

For a moment the anger threatened to consume him. His men were going to be slaughtered! Pacing the length of the tent, pausing to slam his fist on the table and curse loudly, he kicked the dirt.

Standing in the middle of the tent, the sound of the battle raging all around he shook his head at his immaturity. Grabbing several maps he spread them out across the table, smoothing them with the flat of his had. He began to study them intently, there was nothing else he could do; he had to find a way to keep the Hydrans at bay…

"Where's the Lieutenant!"

"Where do you think," nodding in the direction of the command post Tiffany ducked as a nearby explosion spread shrapnel and rubble all around, "we gotta book. Now!"

"Damn straight," Artak muttered as he crab walked behind the scant cover the hillock presented and into the command post, "Lieutenant," he started only to be interrupted.

"Sergeant, move a platoon over here," vaguely wafting a hand over the crude map on the table the Lieutenant continued without even looking up, "we have reports of Hydrans moving around to flank us to the east and I don't want to let them cut us off there."

"Sir, with all due respect, we're getting hammered out there, we should pull everyone back to the fall back positions and regroup, we've…"

"Damn it Sergeant, the Captain ordered us to hold here until ordered to pull back, and that's exactly what we're going to do. There's civilians to our rear, and if we fall back now thousands could die. Now get that platoon moved to the east. Now!"

"Which one Sir," Artak snapped, cringing slightly as the roof of the tent shook and dust fell onto every surface, "What's left of Becker's platoon is pinned to the north, T'Lell and R'shnaqu are both holding the line with the people they have left, and the rest of our people are scattered all over this shit hole."

"Dammit Artak, get some people over there now, get a scratch unit together and move them out. Get Yeager to lead it."

"Yeager, Sir, he's got less that twenty effectives, and half of them are local volunteers."

"Move!" the Lieutenant snapped finally looking up at Artak. The Centauran shied back momentarily at the gaunt and haggard visage that had turned to face him. Pale, with the obvious signs of stress and panic etched onto his face, the once calm Lieutenant was now visibly loosing it, and was reacting the only way his training and panic would allow. Follow orders.

~ Great Maker! ~ Turning he crouched and slipped out of the command post and back into the dark night beyond the red lit room. Crawling over to Tiffany he paused and nudged her as he passed, "Where's Yeager?" he asked softly, his voice barely audible over the sounds of explosions and weapons fire.

"He's busy," she replied, not taking her eyes from the scope she had been glued to since sunset.

"We're all busy!" he snapped back.

"He's giving last rites." She informed him calmly, not taking her eyes from the field before her.

"Watch the Lieutenant," he warned her, "I'll be back." Scuttling away he made his way to the small medical post that had been put together in the hollow behind the bunker, here the wounded the dying and the dead were all carried. Nodding to the nurse who was

their only surviving medic now, he passed the quietly working young man and looked around for Yeager. He wasn't hard to miss. The typical marine, muscle bound and tall the Sergeant was no priest, but he had found something in this hellhole, and had started

attending the dying.

Something he had been doing all too frequently in recent days.

Watching as Yeager calmly closed the eyes of the Romulan he had been muttering over Artak waited for a second then walked over quickly. "Hey." He said loudly as he leaned close to make himself heard.

"Hey."

"Who was he?"

"Dammed if I know! Just another local kid who wanted to defend his home. I don't know half their names." ducking involuntarily as a nearby hillock vanished in a hail of fire he looked to the wiry Centuran, "They're getting closer. Luck only lasts so long old

friend."

"Agreed."

"So, are we pulling back?"

Shaking his head he looked at the ruined city behind them, if there were any civilians left there they had long since fled he decided, but the Lieutenant was blind to everything but his orders, "The Lieutenant says we hold, we stay until ordered to do otherwise."

"Is he nuts?!" Yeager snapped, "This is getting us nowhere, we only catch glimpses of the Hydrans, whereas they damn well have our position nearly locked, we stay here much longer and we're dead. Does that Bastard know that?!"

"Honestly, I don't know. Have you seen him today? He's loosing it, big time."

"Great," Yeager muttered sarcastically, picking up his phaser rifle he checked the charge, "What does the motherfucker want now?"

"There's a report of Hydrans moving around to the east, they get settled there and that's our escape all but cut off. He want's you to take your platoon over there, see what you can do."

"My platoon," half laughing, half snorting he indicated a pile of bodies nearby, "Most of my boys are there, only about half a dozen of us left. Shell fire landed right in most of their foxholes," he explained tiredly. "We're gonna need a mop to pick up the rest of

my boys." looking at Artak he sat suddenly, looking very tired he waved to the east, "they cut us off, we might as well just sit on a grenade and flip the detonator. Get it over with quick!"

"Hang on a sec," he asked. Walking over to the young Nurse Artak indicated his friend, "Shane, do me a favor. Give Yeager something to get him back on his feet, I need him mobile and alert for the next few hours. If we make it, he can rest and sleep it off. If we

don't, well." leaving the thought hanging he let Shane draw his own conclusions.

Nodding the Ensign rifled through a couple of packs and walked over to Yeager, loading a hypo as he did. Without warning the large Terran, he slipped the hypo behind his ear and activated it.

Before Shane could even stand up straight Yeager was on his feet, "Jeeeeezus." he cursed loudly as he quivered for a moment, "What the 'Fuck!' was that?!"

"Enough Amphetamines and Cordrazine to make a dead snail hit warp seven," he explained as he backed off. Watching as the Sergeant settled down he looked to Artak with a raised eyebrow and held out the hypo.

"I'll save it for later," he said with a nod of thanks. Pocketing the hypo carefully he looked to Yeager, "Would you stop shaking?" he asked. "Get your guys together, and hook up with Becker. Start getting everyone back here and out to the east flank. Quietly. I want everyone ready to roll in ten." he ordered.

"What about the LT?"

"I'll reason with him," ~ with a wrench if needed! ~ "but either way, we're heading for the beta positions, we can defend ourselves better there." Looking up with a little confusion he blinked for a second then cursed to himself as he realised he hadn't needed to shout for a moment, the almost incessant artillery had stopped. "Move, we may not have much time!"

Letting Yeager leave first Artak looked to Shane, "Pack what you can and get anyone still breathing ready to move. We leave no-one!"

"Yes Sir."

Running back to the command post he paused by Tiffany and looked out over the field before them, "What gives?"

"Movement," she confirmed, "scattered, but they're coming."

"Then we're leaving." he said calmly, "go help Shane, you've got ten!"

Entering the command post he found the Lieutenant right where he had left him, hunched over that cursed table with the out of date maps, days old Intel and uneaten food.

"Sir, the Hydrans are up to something." He started, hoping to reason with him, "we have possible ground troops moving in." he said as a sudden noise began again outside. More sporadic now but closer and nearly deafening, even inside.

"Spread all available personnel along the north and west perimeters, the Lieutenant shouted over the barrage," tapping the map with a stylus the Lieutenant turned to look at Artak, "we have to hold!"

"No Sir." Spitting the dust out of his mouth Artak realised it wasn't the dust that was leaving an unpleasant taste in his mouth right now.

"What!"

"I said no Sir, we have to leave. The shelling has been redirected; they're trying to pin us down and the only reason I can think they've done that is they want prisoners. We can't defend this position!" he insisted, stepping forward a little to emphasize the urgency of what he was saying, "We don't have enough effective personnel! We only have about eighty people and over a third of them are wounded."

"We have been 'ORDERED' to 'Hold' Sergeant, and we will 'DO' that! Do I make myself clear!" he screamed at Artak, actually leaving his table for the first time in days he stood before the Sergeant, spittle spraying from his mouth as he yelled.

"We stay here, we'll die!" starting to get more and more angry now Artak found his own temper rising, "we've already lost enough people holding this worthless piece of ground, there's no city left. Why the fuck are we still here. Do you want to die?" Screaming

the last he moved closer to the Lieutenant, hoping he would back down and see reason. To stay was to die. And he had no desire to do either, to himself or his people.

"I am following orders Sergeant, and I expect you to do the same!"

"If you wanna die, fine. But you can't expect us to join you," looking into the Lieutenants eyes he realised he wasn't getting anywhere, there wasn't anything there to reason with anymore, only primal fear and panic. "You try and keep us here though and you'll be taking a lot of good people with you for no fucking reason!" he shot back.

"This is mutiny Sergeant, I'll see you shot for this." Still screaming the Lieutenant dropped his hand to his phaser and screamed even louder, "Corporal!"

Without even thinking Artak shifted his weight and caught the unsuspecting, and unfocussed Lieutenant on the side of his head with a punch that, by all rights should have felled a small horse. Though he didn't fall the Lieutenant staggered back, reaching for his

phaser as he did.

Moving quicker Artak had his phaser out, and without giving either the Lieutenant or himself time to think about the consequences of the action he thumbed the trigger. In less than a second, the Lieutenant, the table he was resting on and all his precious notes

were gone. Vaporized. For a moment a brief glow suffused the air where he had been and then the energetic molecules settled down and joined their more sedate companions in the room.

"We're leaving Sir." Artak said softly to the empty tent.

Taking a deep breath he shook his head. ~ Panic later! ~ he decided. Turning his phaser on the command console he destroyed anything that could be of use to the Hydrans and rushed back out to the med-post.

"Let's move people," he ordered as he approached.

"What about the Lieutenant?" Shane asked as he maneuvered an anti-grav stretcher.

"Who?"

"Talk is Cheap"

Ensign Faylin McAlister
JAG, USS Galaxy

Second Lieutenant Steven Jonas
Marine, USS Galaxy

****

Day 21
The Streets
Ki Karatan
Romulus

****

"Steven, we need to talk." Faylin's face was grim. Her mug of warm liquid attempted to squelch the desire she had to put a finishing touch on things. "I....am really hurt by you and that other woman."

They had effectively been an item for almost 2 weeks on the planet.

And she chose this time to want to talk about that topic. Just as the Fleet returned to fight back. "I've already told you that was a giant mistake. I'm sorry for what happened."

"That's all your going to give me? I'm sorry for what happened?"

Steven sighed. "It was an accident, Fay. I didn't know what I was doing."

"Well, god, Steven, I could have gotten that from a drunk Klingon.

Why?"

"I was on some weird meds for the injuries I suffered during my time trying not to die in the vacuum of space. And they didn't agree with the bloodwine."

Faylin leaned close to him, her voice sinister and deadly. "Tell me something....were you thinking of me while you were screwing her?"

Steven stepped back. He didn't like the tone she was using. "I'm not going to dignify that with a response. Not now anyway. This is not the time nor the place for this discussion, hon."

"Oh please Steven. What a cop out." Her tone still somewhat evil in nature.

"You want the truth Fay?" He stepped closer, coming up to stand right next to her. "I don't remember much about what I was thinking. I do know that as soon as I realized, I knew that I had screwed up. Besides, I didn't think we were in an exclusive relationship. Not that I have ever used that excuse in the past, and will hopefully never again in the future."

Her eyes narrowed to slits. "I feel privileged that I'm the first one you used that excuse on. It's rather pathetic, isn't it? 'Oh, I couldn't help fucking her....I was high and drunk.' I'll keep that in mind when it's my turn to screw around on you." She wet her lips, her eyes flashed with a knowledge that she smiled with. "Be careful Jonas......" He had yet to see this dark side of her. She steeled her gaze somewhere else as she took another sip of her drink.

"Where do you get off being so high and mighty?" He questioned. His ears were tingling and his blood was boiling at her attack. "Don't tell me you've never done anything you regretted? Never once made a mistake?

Perhaps I should start calling you 'little miss perfect'?" Steven smirked.

"Go ahead." She stated with a slight, dark chuckle. "Although, it wouldn't be the truth. You should know something about that Steven.

Fibbing? Covering things up."

He listened to her rant on, but couldn't get a word in edgewise.

Finally she stopped. "Can I say something now?"

"Sure thing sweetie."

"Listen up Faylin." He started, his voice an octave higher than normal due to the anger that was bubbling away. "I made a mistake. It's that simple. One fucken mistake. If you can't handle that, why have we been together for the past 2 weeks? Why bring this up now that the Fleet has arrived and we need to fight back harder and faster than before? Why the hell are your panties in such a twist now?"

She brought her hand up to his face, tracing his stiffened jaw line.

"You're so naive. Open your eyes around you. Do you think anyone gives a damn about your emotional state? You think with all this death and destruction, we actually sit around a table and wonder. 'Oh, how's Steven Jonas feeling today?' No one does." Her hiss was low. "No one gives a damn Steven. All they do care about is that you raise that little rifle of yours and do your job. And, I'm not talking about your dick. So....baby.....why don't you do that little job of yours?"

Her voice sticky, full of false sweetness as her eyes flashed with anger.

Steven smiled wryly. Something was eating at her and he had a feeling that it wasn't him sleeping with Kala. "You know what, I don't give a fuck what everyone else thinks. I only care about what one single person thinks, but since as you say 'no one gives a damn', I guess I know where you stand on the matter."

"Go....go off now. Be a good little Marine. I've got things to do myself." She raised her rifle, a hint of superiority crossed across her once fragile features. Flicking the power button, she smiled, her voice gravely. "I've got Hydrans to kill."

"But they're our friends, honey." he said with sarcasm. "Why are you being such a bitch to me?"

"You'll never understand me Steven. I have secrets I'll never reveal." She turned, her heart hardened as she focused only on one goal.

Steven watched as she walked off. Had that last comment scared her off? Had he crossed the line? He shook his head at her retreating form. Something was up her bonnet and one day, if they were ever civil to each other, he was gonna find out what. Turning, he headed towards where the remnants of the 188th were waiting. They had work to do.

off: this is a backpost to Day 10 of the Occupation

"Reality is in the Eye of the Beholder" - part one

Primary Characters:
Lt. Ella Grey
and guests :)

**************

The Alley,
Copernicus

Ella Grey looked about the darkened alley with no small amount of consternation.

It wasn't that she didn't know this place (when she thought of the past it was one of the first things that came to mind and if Ella were more of a romantic she might have suggested that a piece of her soul would always be trapped there) but not a minute ago she had been on board Galaxy and now she was not.

Ella should have been horrified but she wasn't. What she felt was exhausted and a bit short of breath, which wasn't really unexpected, considering this place and this memory.

Memory, Ella thought. Was this memory?

It felt real. The night was freezing and Ella rubbed her arms and shifted her feet, which were bare against the cold pavement. She hadn't been in a medical gown in the past, or standing for that matter, but otherwise, the alley was spot on with her memory. The moon was where it was supposed to be, barely showing from behind the clouds, and the place smelled as bad as she remembered.

But she wasn't lying on the ground bleeding and broken yet, which was different.

"Huh," She finally commented to the dumpster on her left. Her voice, which was hidden by a perfectly functioning implant, didn't echo into the night. It disappeared into the shadows.

Ella hadn't been expecting a response so when he stepped out from behind it, a dark man but not the one she had been expecting, she was surprised.

"That's wrong," She told him. "You weren't here."

The man known to her as Daro Cole shrugged, which was his way of saying that she had said something stupid.

Ella frowned. "It's not stupid. I don't understand why you're here. I don't understand why *I'm* here. I was on the ship."

"In Sickbay," The Bajoran clarified.

He kept his hands at his sides because it kept them free in case he was attacked but otherwise looked relaxed. Daro Cole always looked relaxed. It was easier to get closer to a target that way, she imagined.

Ella, of course, felt tense. "In Sickbay. I got hurt in Engineering ..."

She trailed off realizing that the last thing she could remember before arriving back in Copernicus was having a very difficult time breathing.

"Oh, dear," Ella sighed. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

He cracked a smile, rare but she had seen him do it before. "When are you not in trouble?"

**************

Romulus
Day 10 of the Occupation

Death frowned down at the pair of Romulan civilians as they fled down the alley beneath him, barely a hundred meters ahead of the Hydran patrol that pursued them. The squad of Hydrans was following closely, but not too closely, obviously trying to see if the Romulans would lead them to a larger group as they fled in their fear.

Since there was, in fact, such a group of survivors less than a mile away, it wasn't that bad a plan.

He didn't know if these Romulans were part of that group, or if they even knew of its existence ... but that didn't matter - Death wasn't prepared to let the Hydrans have their way. Actually, he wasn't prepared to let have or do anything ... except die. They could do that all day, every day, and he'd let it happen. He would, in fact, even show them the way if they got lost ...

Just like he was about to do for this patrol.

**************

Outside the USS Galaxy

Ella walked along the hull, noting the damage done by the Hydrans and pointedly ignoring the stars surrounding her.

She wasn't weirded out by being in space, not really because this wasn't real (like laying in the middle of traffic on the Holodeck hadn't been real), but she also didn't like the reminder that she shouldn't be able to breathe here and that somewhere she was lying on a biobed, probably not breathing.

"What do you want, Ella?" Daro asked as he walked beside her. He was dressed like he had been on the night that she had met him, all in brown, without a hint of black.

"Why are you here, Cole?" Ella countered.

"Guardian angel?"

Ella snorted loudly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Beggars can't be choosers."

**************

Romulus
Day 10 of the Occupation

The two refugees knew that something had happened, which wasn't surprising given the way the second Hydran had exploded when the demolition charges he'd carried were cooked off by the reduced power beam fired from Death's phaser rifle. It hadn't been the result that he'd actually wanted - he'd really just wanted to kill the Hydran without using more power than necessary, and the secondary explosion had been as unexpected to him as to the remaining Hydrans - but Death wasn't picky. Even he didn't get three-for-one specials that often.

The Romulan couple stared at the collapsing building which had formerly concealed the Hydrans, looked at one another, and then ran like rabbits, hands tightly clasped together.

Death watched them for a moment, and then followed at a better distance and more expertly than the Hydrans had, driven by an impulse he didn't really understand to make certain the two reached safety.

**************

The Warehouse,
San Francisco

"What do you want, Ella?"

"I want him dead," She replied. "I came to you because I wanted them both dead."

Daro shook his head. "That's what you wanted then. What do you want now?

Ella frowned. It was hard to remember what had happened when, although she remembered this place well enough. Like the Alley, she had only been here once but unlike the Alley she had come here by choice.

Like space, it was cold.

"I want ... to get off this planet. I want to be an engineer."

"Also what you wanted then," Daro Cole said. "What do you want now?"

She exhaled. "I don't know."

"Hmmm ... That could be a problem."

Ella tilted her head. "Why? And even if it is, it's not like it will be a problem for much longer."

**************

Romulus
Day 10 of the Occupation

Something stopped him, pulling his attention away from the Romulan couple as they continued towards the safety of the shelter that led to others of their kind. Death frowned, trying to decide what it was that called to him, what it was that had drawn his attention with its faint tug. Something was happening somewhere else, something that ...

Something that he'd forbidden? Was that it? Was someone he'd forbidden to die trying to do it somewhere?

He looked around him and then skyward. Yes, that was it. Someone, somewhere was trying to do something that he'd forbidden....Too far away to determine who, but no her, not the face that floated in his thoughts and dreams. Someone else... but not her.

He wouldn't allow that, though, no matter who it was.

*****

USS Galaxy
Holodeck Two

"Step on a crack, you break your mother's back," Ella sang as she hopped over the yellow lines in the black and yellow gridded room.

"Ella," Daro said with an obvious air of disapproval.

She shot him a look. She was more aware of what had happened, what was happening, and clarity hadn't made her happy. "What?"

"Stop looking away."

Ella stopped hopping and put her hands on her hips. "There isn't a ball to drop here, Cole. This isn't real. What can I possibly do?"

"You've been looking away again, Ella. I thought I taught you better than that."

She frowned. He had told her not to look away a long time ago but she didn't think it applied here since there was no one to beat to death.

The engineer harrumphed and sat down abruptly. "I'm dying, Daro. It would be nice if you were less cryptic."

Daro nodded. "Is that really what you want?"

Ella rolled her eyes.

*****

Romulus
Day 10 of the Occupation

Death stared up at the sky. He still wasn't certain who it was that was trying to defy him - they were too far away, beyond the sky, further than he'd ever tried to enforce a forbiddance before. And they were not close, not like the girl with the green cat's eyes, or the blue women.

Still... he'd forbidden them at some point and hadn't rescinded it, whoever they were, and that was enough. He pushed at the sky, reaching for them.

*****

The Grey Residence,
Santa Clara

She wasn't really surprised when he entered her bedroom; she'd actually been hoping that he would.

"Cole," Ella said from the bed as she pointed at her new visitor.

"This is Victor. Victor this is Cole."

Death frowned for a moment, and then nodded in understanding. It was the woman with the color for a name; the one that had hurt him. "No,"

he whispered, not Victor. Not now."

"Ah." The engineer said with a shrug of her shoulder. "Excuse me. Cole this is the Master of Death. The head honcho himself although minus the scythe. Death this is one of your agents, super assassin extraordinaire."

Death looked at the other figure for a moment without speaking, and then turned to Ella. "You do not have permission," he said simply.

"Stop."

"And while still hating me too," She said with a laugh. "Isn't that sweet, Cole?"

From the window seat, Daro was looking at the other man curiously, probably wondering if he could take him in a fight.

"Stop," Death repeated. "Or I will do it for you."

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Ten

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

Several miles away from Artak and his band of merry mutineers, down in the suburbs of Ki Baratan the sky was unusually pitch-black for two in the afternoon. Thick plumes of smoke turned upwards adding yet more ash to an already excessively polluted atmosphere. Fires had broken out everywhere, and not one building was still intact. But the most frightening thing of all was the weapons fire. It came from every corner and it ranged from small phaser and disruptor fire, to phaser cannons, to monstrous Photon grenades.

Michael crouched down at the edge of a huge crater. He got his binoculars and looked over the top to see from where the enemy was firing from. It looked like it was coming from a heavily fortified building that was slightly to the right of him. While he was observing and looking for movements by any Hydrans he noticed that on the display it was said that the distance between him and the building was 1.8 kilometers.

He looked back and found Kala behind him, her face showing dark smudges. Could be mud or ash, Michael didn't know what it was. He probably looked the same way. Their clothes were in an even worse state; all torn up and covered in mud.

"Look at this." Michael said a slight nod with his head in the direction where the building was. "What do you think? Is it worth the risk?"

Kala shrugged, was any of this worth the risk? "What's your plan?" she asked him.

"That's the problem. I don't have one. That bunker over there can withstand a whole lot, so using our explosives won't help much. Besides that, I bet it's crawling with those three legged slime-balls." Michael said as he got down to where Kala was at. "I was hoping you had something in mind. It's two against a whole lot, and I have to admit that I rather go on and look for an easier target."

"Don't be a chicken shit!" Kala replied coldly. Part of her did agree with him, it would be easier to turn tail and run away, in fact her secondary mission would advise it. But there were more people to 'keep safe' other than Michael. And as long as she died with him, Nishta couldn't beat her up for not protecting him as she had requested. For a moment she stared at Michael. She didn't need to wonder why her sister had fallen in love with him, he was good looking, a bit spineless for her tastes mind, but handsome none the less and he had a good heart, that much she could tell, yet what she didn't understand is how.

How had her sister fallen in love? And it was love, real this time, not like she had seen with Chang. She smiled softly at him, "How about we..." she stopped abruptly, "Shit, get down!" she hissed pushing him behind her.

Yet it was too late, they had been spotted by a patrol. "Fuck!" Kala cursed fumbling with her rifle.

Before he could even dive down into the crater, a disrupter blast went only inches passed his head. He froze momentarily before jumping down to seek cover. "Shit!" was the only thing he could call out. He got his own type III Phase rifle and crawled back to the rim of the crater. "Where the hell did they come!?" Michael saw the Hydrans close in on them. He took aim at the one closest to them and fired a couple of shots. Two of them missed target, the last one must've hit the bastard as Michael heard a cry of pain.

1 hit out of 3 shots. Poor shooting and he knew it. Michael wished he'd trained more on handling Phasers and Phaser rifles, but that was something which he never liked doing. Not since he had experienced the Dominion War. One War was enough. But it seemed you don't choose your war, the war chooses you.

More and more Hydrans came their way. By now they were outnumbered 10 to 1. Michael tried hard to keep his hands from shaking too much as he picked out his targets and pulled the trigger. Slowly, very slowly, his old routine came back. Sensing that Kala was about to make a comment on his shoddy marksmanship, he looked at her for only the briefest of time. "I know damnit! It's been a while, that's all!"

Kala actually giggled at him as she fired at the oncoming Hydrans, "Great time to confess," she said, "I'm awash with confidence to know that you are covering my back."

Inching backwards as a whole horde of them came crashing down the embankment Kala cringed. If she could save herself in all this, *then*, perhaps she would think about saving Michael!

She took a pause from aiming and just fired in their direction as she took a moment to count them... ten, eleven.... and rising. There was no way in hell that they were going to survive these odds. Ducking she rolled over to a tree stump for better cover and then poked her head up to take a look at what they were dealing with.

Her jaw dropped, along with it her concentration. A blast hit the stump, almost her head. She ducked and cursed as shrapnel from the stump flew out, cutting her face and hands.

Scolding herself she focused on the Hydrans, letting off a few shots she turned her head to Michael in-between bursts, "There's a whole fucking platoon of them out there." she told him, trying to keep her voice steady while she shat a brick. "They are beaming in." she added filching as another hit blew more of the tree stump away, along with it her cover.

"You got any grenades?" she asked him, lying down so she didn't get her head blown off, or worse, vaporized... what a way to go... neither was particularly great mind... She shook her head, STOP, she told herself, think like that and that's exactly what will happen.

"Only a few. But surely not enough to hold them back!" Michael shouted back as he continued firing. He paused a few seconds and threw the grenades to Kala. Next moment he slung his Phaser rifle over the rim of the crater and kept focusing from target to target, pulling the trigger over and over again in a steady rhythm. He was fast becoming the machine again he once had been back in the Dominion War. "Still think I'm a chicken shit!?"

"Nope," she replied, shooting a volley, "but you'll think I am. I'm gonna lob these, then we are gonna run. You got that?" she asked him her face totally serious. She wasn't about to die here and there really were too many for them to handle alone. Sure if they had a crate full of grenades, she would be happy to sit her and creator them all day.... but they didn't, and so she wasn't!

Michael snapped his head around. He never expected Kala to say that they should retreat. "Run!? You know....I never thought I would hear that from you!" One last time he pulled the trigger and just kept on firing at the Hydran filth that were now only some 60 meters away. "Anyway....I'll be right behind you. Whenever you're ready, throw those babies so we blast at least some of them to bits."

"Wrong again sunshine." Kala replied. "I'm gonna throw these, *you're* gonna run, and I'm following your pretty little ass all the way out of here."

She didn't wait for him to reply; biting the stick of the grenade she yanked it, poked her head out and threw it over the rise of the embankment. She looked at Michael, "RUN!" she shouted fiercely at him. Standing up she laid down covering fire as Michael scrambled to his feet.

"Not that way!" she hollered her body jerking with the recoil from the phaser rifle as she kept her finger on the trigger. "*That* way." she indicated with a sharp nod of her head.

She was knocked off her feet when the grenade went off. The shower of Hydran body parts, mud, dirt, stones and chunks of the countryside rained down all around her. Cursing again, this time a long convoluted sentence, made up of all the languages she knew, and that was quite a lot. She pulled the pin out of the second grenade and lobbed it. Picking her rifle back up she pushed herself up from the ground and stumbled, dizzy with the blasts, in the same direction as Michael.

Over the country side the two of them ran, heading for what they hoped would be safety and a chance to regroup, find more Starfleet officers and organize a counter attack. Kala had never run so fast in her life, her thighs burned as she jumped over ditches, through the tall grasses and through to the woodland for cover. Once the trees enveloped them she paused, gasping for breath she called out huskily to Michael. Resting her hands on her bent knees she doubled over and panted heavily, stealing a moment to look out through the undergrowth and wonder where her sister was, questions assaulted her mind; was she down here too? Was she safe? Shaking her head, for she couldn't allow herself to think about Nish right now. She closed her eyes and stood up straight, following Michael through cover of the tree line.

Through the trees, over the fallen stumps, some split, charged and smoking still from the carnage being wrought across the planet. Through the undergrowth and down into the clearing, and then beyond. Far across the woodland terrain, on the other side of the large forest, a fallen solider of the Federation lay, surrounded by the beauty of nature, that, so far had survived the conflict almost untouched.

A howl woke him from his sleep. Something had picked up his scent and that something had just warned everyone else that there was a new predator in the area.

He was the new kid on the block.

Baile opened his eyes, but let his body relax. Only years and years of combat experience had kept it from moving. Slowly he moved his eyes from side to side. Maybe he was being paranoid. Then, as he saw the surrounding area he decided that maybe he wasn't paranoid.

Where the hell was he?

Last thing Baile remembered was getting back up on his feet after the damn seizure. After that everything was just a blur. He got up on his feet, resting on the heels of his boots. He looked around but the area around him, it told him nothing. Not a damn thing. The hills to the south looked familiar but they were far away.

Fuck.

Without a rangefinder he could only make a rough calculation, but a rough calculation would do. He wouldn't be calling artillery in the near future anyway. Sixty clicks. Give or take five. So somehow he had moved sixty kilometers in rough terrain and he didn't even know how or how long it had taken. It made him wonder what else he couldn't remember. He knew of one other thing that he didn't remember. How the hell he had ended up in Hydran captivity. That was still a mystery and probably always would be.

The marine spat on the ground in disgust.

"This is just... great..." he grunted. "I'm halfway up the ass to nowhere..." He picked up a stone and hurled it as far as he could. The sound it made when it landed made him cringe. 'Stupid idiot...' he chided himself, 'Why not light a bonfire and paint yourself red so they can see where you are? Jackass...'

'I seem to end up in captivity quite a lot these days... Hydrans, Penal Colonies, the brig and Hydrans again... God dammit... Is it too much to hope for Orions next time?' He sighed. The feeling of fatigue was coming over him again.

'No shit, Sherlock…' he thought to himself. His body was trying to heal, but for that it needed energy. Food of which he had none. As if on queue his stomach rumbled, telling him to fill it. Baile told it to shove it.

Touching the backside of his thighs he felt a crisscross pattern of dried up blood, dirt and scars. He had a feeling the scars would eventually fade just like the burn mark on his arm. If he got out of this alive that was.

A faint rumble echoed across the plains. Distant thunder he thought at first but it wasn't.

Artillery... 'And non-federation at that…'

A rustling noise as something careered through the forest; twigs breaking under heavy footsteps combined with heaving breathing alerted anyone and everyone that someone or something was headed his way.

And at quite a pace!

Ensign T'Jaden "TJ" Tagra, Engineering Officer, USS Miranda

Deck 39, Main Engineering

Deflector Control never happened, as much as TJ wanted it to. When the ship took its first hit, TJ ran back to Engineering to watch over his baby. Granted it didn't need it, but he was protective. He did follow an urge to run a quick diagnostic of Deflector Control and it showed that it was connected as disscussed, but there was no record of who did the work. He put his leave time on K'aa, but also wouldn't put it past Deny either.

The T'Kith'Kin weapons where a bit of a challenge for the modified shields, but they didn't disrupt it to the point of destabilization. Then Hellbores hit.

And the shields held and did thier job perfectly. The conduits held and the relays didn't blow out a wall. And the standard shields and cannon charged just as the sims predicted.

"We just might make it," he muttered quietly. Yes, Spots, we might.

TJ jumped out of his chair and looked around, thinking Jacen sneeked down to Engineering, which logically wasn't possible considering security. "Jacen?" he asked, still looking around. I'm here, more in our quarters, but I'm here with you. TJ kept his voice low, not knowing how to 'talk' to someone by thoughts, "How are you doing this?"

I'm focusing on you. It's taking more effort than I thought, but you started it.

"When I passed out from the punctured lung. Prophets...Jacen, we're-" Yep, Zhian'shee'tara Dor'vahla, The Truest of Bonded/Joined Love. Next thing you know, we'll be sharing dreams and thoughts more easily.

"Hun, as happy as I am about this, I need to get to work. When this is over, we'll talk about this and get it all in order," TJ said smiling as he sat back down at the station. Yes dear. See you soon. And with that, he was gone.

'Strange, it felt like he was right next to me,' TJ mused. I am.

"Jacen, out of my head. NOW!" TJ said, trying to stay quiet. Last thing he needed was everyone getting in on this little bit of information.

Suddenly, the ship shuddered and knocked him out of his introspective mode. He turned back and focused on the screen.

The oscillation range was holding steady, though a bit off for his tastes. He quickly corrected it and started opening up energy stores and batteries to the cannon. With that, it should charge faster and the backup reserves should fill steadily since the Hellbore signatures where on the rise.

Apparently the Hydrans where back on the playing field.

Then there where new warp signatures coming into sensor range. TJ's hands flew over the controls, regrouping efforts and getting everything up to one hundred and ten percent. Then the signatures where recognized.

Lyrans.

"Things just got interesting."

“Quarterbacking”

LtJG Chris Daniels

Also Starring:
Capt John Daniel
Capt Tamka Arneson

CIC, Deck 7—USS Miranda
=======================

Signing a death warrant and then executing it was a new thing for Chris.

He had just depressed the trigger again, sending his third Hydran cruiser—and its attendant crew—to their respective mechanical and biological deaths. Deep down a feeling inside him was horrified by the fact that he felt no remorse for what he was doing. Perhaps it was the fact that he knew that the Hydrans wouldn't hesitate to do the same to him if given the chance. Perhaps it was that vengeful soul inside him repaying the Hydrans for the lives of his young crewmen. Either way, this darker side of him that embraced the death of Triad vessels continued to rear its ugly head.

With the arrival of the Lyran fleet, the good guys had gotten a small, yet welcome set of reinforcements. If nothing else, the Lyran ships would give the Triad something else to shoot at, which bought more time for the other ships doing the heavy fighting. All in all the assembled masses in the CIC were pleased with how the battle was progressing.

But they still needed to win.

So far the Starbeast was still a threat, the T'Kith'Kin hadn't really had much done to them and the only real objective the fleet had met was to get that planetary shield down. While that in itself was huge, they still had to win the space fight for it to matter…hence the reason that the Miranda was hurtling headlong into the mass of T'Kith'Kin ships.

They had been getting pot-shot throughout the battle, but thanks to that Engineer's brilliant shield adaptation, they were holding strong. Unfortunately, nothing was perfect, and a power overload sparked off in the CIC and fried the Marine Liaison station. Petty Officer Marecheck was burned by the resulting flare up, but it wasn't serious. The only true casualty was the panel, which the repair teams would get to later.

Chris barked orders to switch one of the Analysis stations to Marine Control to make up for the

gap. He handed off the fire control to Davoust with strict instructions not to bust their firing

arc. Looking around the CIC, he tried to take in quick scans of any troubles. The Admiral's entourage was doing their thing and looked all set in their Admiral-ish way. His crew was doing awesome and with the exception of the burnt out stations, the CIC itself was performing its mission flawlessly.

Everything was set…now it was time to figure out how to beat these bastards.

Earlier the fleet had moved from a total enclosure maneuver to abandoning the planetside front in favor of a three sided attack pattern—on his recommendation. With his brief dive into strategic planning over, it was time to get back into the meat and potatoes tactical stuff.

But first, he would go ask the oracles.

Stepping up onto the observation rail, Chris walked over to the two familiar faces wearing Tactical Red and Captain's rank. The short, bearded man was Tamka Arneson, the Director of Operations of Starfleet's Battlelabs in Colorado Springs—and Chris' mentor when he was a research assistant there. The man next to him Chris was even more familiar with—his father—Captain John Daniels, who had been pulled away from his Deputy Commander job to fill a role, along with Arneson, as Special Tactical Analyst to Admiral Murdock for this mission.

Chris stood next to his dad and looked at the Captain's vantage point of the CIC. From here, it resembled a hive of activity. Much different from the season-ticket floor seats Chris had gotten used to.

“What do you think?” Chris addressed them both, dropping the formalities of sir. He had never been good with that around these two.

“Good call on changing out of the square attack.” Arneson nodded his approval. “Now you need to take on that Bug fleet.”

“Any ideas?”

“Looks like you're trying to tangle that Starbeast in with the Bugs…you sure that's gonna work?”

Chris' dad shouted over the din.

“Not sure, nothing else has at this point.”

“Have you considered biological weapons?”

“What?!”

“Outside the box, son!” John Daniels shouted emphatically. His son was getting to caught up in conventional tactics. “You can't beat the Starbeast with our best weapons. It's alive…make it sick! Then kill it while it's weak!”

“We can't produce that many nanites and beam them during a battle, dad!”

“Who said anything about nanites?”

“Don't they still carry samples of common cold on board? Or did that go the way of VISORs?”

Arneson had to lean over and yell as a busted conduit spilled steam around them.

Chris paused a second…he had been skeptical of un-traditional thoughts on this one…he was of the feeling that enough firepower would take that thing down…but…that might be crazy enough to work.

“I'll see what I can do.” Chris went to turn and head back to the floor.

In a moment of swollen pride, John Daniels took a good look at his son. He had gone from almost getting booted from the Academy to being the lead officer coordinating the fleet efforts in the first battle of what appeared to be the next major war. He didn't design any of this, it was pure luck that Chris had joined Starfleet, gone tactical, and ended up here. All too often John had been accused of using his position to get Chris cush postings, such as the Battlelabs job and then here on the Miranda. But now, as he watched his son in action, the both of them were vindicated.

Before Chris was out of reach, John grabbed him.

“Son!” He yelled over the din.

“Yeah dad?”

“You're doing great…I'm proud of you.”

Chris allowed a smile to come across his face for just a moment. He thought the middle of a battle coordination center, in the middle of a battle, was a weird time for father son bonding, but he just went with it.

“Thanks…now if you'll excuse me…we have a battle to go finish.”

SFC Thral - Galaxy SFMC Detachment - Demolitionist

and assorted NPC resistance types.

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

It had been a hard month. Ok, well, for Thral it hadn't really been as he'd been through at least as bad a situation. Somehow being abandoned on Romulus for a month wasn't quite as bad as being left to rot on Chin'toka. True the Hydrans were even uglier then the Jem'hadar but even a war torn Romulus didn't have that stinking desert rock feel that Chin'toka did. Then again there he had a squad of Starfleet Rangers to keep him company. Here, not so much.

"Sssir, convoy will be approaching from the northwest in sssix minutess." , the Gorn named Krass hissed in the Tellarite sergents ear.

"The mines are in place I presume Lurak?", Thral said looking over to the Vulcan corporal who was the last of his original fireteam. The question was only met with the usual emotionless Vulcan face nodding in his direction.

This was an interesting group. After the order to disperse and go underground was given, Thral set to work assembling this merry band. Krass, a Gorn who claimed he was a security guard at the Gorn embassy though Thral could smell the stench of mercenary on him, had become his defacto second in command. It didn't really matter who the Gorn really worked for, he was a good fighter, had no love for the Hydrans, and was stuck here like the rest of them. Lurak had been through alot with Thral since he and the Colonel had blown up the autodefense facility. He was nursing a wounded leg, but like every Vulcan Thral had fought with he was bearing it well. He looked over at the twin Romulan brothers ,Terik and Suram, that had joined the troupe a few days ago. Their story is that they were cadets at the Romulan War College and recieved a similar order to disperse. They were a little green but had faired well enough in thier last ambush. And lastly there was another Romulan, S'Ret. She hadn't talked much so her story wasn't clear. All she said was that she was a doctor and had proved her worth keeping PFC Ellis alive alot longer then she should have. Thus this is what Thral had assembled.

Today's target was a supply convoy heading for a Hydran District command center. They'd managed several such strikes over the past couple days as well as the occasional raid on a Hydran comm center or troop column. The convoy strikes had all followed a simple but time proven stragegy. Scout out the convoy's route, place remote detonated mines or other things that went boom in the road, blow up vehicles as they pass, kill remaning Hydrans and take their stuff. For this particular raid they'd managed to get their hands on some cloakable anti-vehicle mines from a Romulan arms cache the Hydrans hadn't found yet.

"S'ret, do you have eyes on the target?" Thral asked the mysterious doctor , who was perched on a nearby rooftop through the highly jury-rigged comm gear they'd been carrying.

"Yes" she said coldly "Six cargo vehicles and two APC escorts. Three legs must be getting wise to us."

"Figures. OK folks, look sharp and stay down." Thral said as he settled in behind some debris watching where the mines were. He had his hand on one of the twins' shoulders, he could barely tell them apart when they were out of armor, definately couldn't now. They were both a bit jittery at this, but then again, so was Thral. Once you've been a marine long enough you learned not to show it. He pulled out a set of binoculars and looked down towards where the trucks were coming from at about the same time S'Ret's voice crackled through the comm.

"Abort. I repeat abort the attack. We have civilian prisoners in the trucks."

"Lurak, safety the mines." Thral said as he looked towards the vehicles to confirm what S'ret saw. Sure enough there were a number of Rhiannsu civilians in what looked like restraints. It appeared they had a new mission.

"Krass, with me. Everyone else fall back to surviellance point Beta. Suram, try and get me an interior plan of that structure."

"I'll endevour to do so sir." The young Romulan replied as Thral began to look around for a good spot to surviel the compound. As he searched about he saw that someone else had already found a good spot.

"Well well, looks like Spots has kept himself alive. Come on Krass, I've been hoping I could introduce you to the Colonel"

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Eleven

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

Admittedly she wasn't very stealth like on her approach, yet she wasn't running to something, but from something…

Gathering speed as she descended the slope her feet caught in the roots of the trees that littered the ground. Yelping slightly as she fell, rolling, tumbling down over the roots and through the mud and leaves.

A muddy, leaf, twig covered ball eventually came to a stop at Bailes feet.

Her body unmoving as she lay there breathing hard…

That was unexpected. No, unexpected was an understatement. Seeing a naked clown painted purple running around in the forest swinging a sign over his head reading 'My other car is a Porsche' was unexpected. This was… Screw what it was. At least he knew where all of the noise had been coming from.

He cocked an eyebrow and a sly smile formed on his face. "Flat on your back again, Barbie?" he asked her ironically, referring to their last encounter.

A groan escaped her lips as her body moved slowly. She raised her head and cringed with the pain that the movement caused. "It's Dorothy, or did you forget?" she replied her tone sarcastic, laced with pain.

Rolling on to her front she pushed herself up and began to pick off the leaves that stuck to her hands. After a moment she turned her face to him and blinked. Her eye sight hadn't completely returned to normal since her encounter on the Hammer with Jonas and she found it difficult to locate the part of his energy outline that was his face.

Frowning she stood up. She had had a month almost to get used to seeing the world through color and nothing else, yet in the middle of a war-zone really wasn't the time or place to have your vision replaced with permanent kaleidoscopes!

She offered his form a smile and then began to 'look' around. Nothing that she saw really made any sense, not that it ever had. In her dreams she had seen things like this, had flash back to moments when all she could see was the darkens and light, those images from her past were beginning to make sense now. Shrugging she turned back to the one thing here that was like an anchor, she would have to memorize his energy signature, really study the pattern of what she saw, so that when the firing started she knew were to run to. "Where are we?" she asked him.

He sniffed the air. So far his pursuers seemed to have lost his trail. God knew he had used every trick in the book to loose them. Normally he wouldn't have backed down from them, but now he feared what would happen if he had another seizure.

The marine looked at the woman in front of him. His alien eyes bore down on her, seeing her in the dwindling light of the day. "Tripods that way, that way and that way…" he replied and nodded in three different directions. The only direction he didn't nod in was the one he had come from. If she wanted to go there then she'd be on her own. "Sounds like fleeters over there and there... but they're mostly busy dying..."

"Nice." Dhani replied simply, her face never turning from him. Brushing down her pants, for she knew that she must be covered in all sorts, she pondered what they were going to do. Should they stay here and wait for rescue? Or follow the sounds of the 'fleeters' busily dying and perhaps join them? She shrugged to herself. "What's your plan Tony?" she asked mimicking his nicknaming.

What his plan was? He wasn't sure. Meeting up with someone from the Galaxy out here had definitely not been among them. He eyed her. Unable to explain he just knew she had grown in… skill... She could be of use. He figured if she had been the same as when they had first met he would have snapped her neck by now.

Then he felt it again. That damn Hydran had picked up the trail again. "Cute Sally… real cute... I'm heading that way…" he said and pointed deeper into the forest. About an hour ago a wind carrying both sounds and smells had told him that was the place where he needed to go. Simply put - it smelled Starfleet.

Dhanishta's face turned slightly to the right, her expression changing as she just stared out across the forest with her dark eyes. For her, the scenery was shadowed, almost black. The energy emanating from the living organisms and animals emitted a soft glow against the darkness, yet she could see more. There was something in the distance. Its energy was all over the place, it spilled out across the shadows of the forest. Pink, she finally decided as she stared at it, stared through it. It was pink.

"He's coming for you." she said softly, in a voice that wasn't quite her own. "Not just him. There are others too." she visibly trembled as a chill washed through her body. Her dark eyes turned back towards him, "Yet they aren't corporeal… but you already know that." she said with a faint smile.

It took effort to keep the desire for battle at bay. Killing her would have been over before she would have sensed his intentions but there was nothing to gain from killing her. He frowned mentally. That way of thinking sure as hell wasn't his. Thoughts like that belonged to a new part of him, a part he didn't like too much and yet it took over him more and more by each passing hour.

He just nodded. Yes, the damn Hydran was coming for him. Baile figured killing him wouldn't have been difficult but what if he collapsed again? "I'm going... you may come with me if you want to… but I warn, Molly Menopause... if you slow me down I'll go on without you... Understood?"

Dhanishtas' face cracked into a grin, "Molly Menopause?" she questioned, "That's a new one." His name calling had irritated her when she first met him, yet somehow she was finding it amusing, "Do you have a book where you get these lines from? Or do you really expect me to believe that you are that quick witted?" she asked rhetorically.

She wasn't sure of the direction he intended to go, so she had to wait till he moved and then followed in his wake.

"Aren't you dying to find out?" he replied evenly and turned his back to her. Most of the wounds he had accumulated during the last week were healing, but some of them had been torn open a few hours ago and blood trickled from at least a dozen scrapes of various sizes. But the worst was the back of his thighs. It looked like someone had gone over the skin with a dull knife.

Several of the deep cuts still had bits of rock in them, making it impossible to heal properly even with his newly gained regeneration capabilities.

Catching up to him as he moved off at a quicker pace than she had initially expected she strained herself for a moment to sprint to his side. Once on the same level she matched his strides, slightly difficult seeing as her legs were a lot shorter than his. "You are incomplete." she told him through short breaths.

The pain was gone. It always vanished when he ran. Or fought. Or got scared. Always when his body started working. "Incomplete?" he asked her while running at a steady pace. His feet didn't make a single sound. This was what he was the best at. Stealth.

Next to him Dhani was more cumbersome as she tried to keep up with him and tackle the terrain, which was hard when she couldn't see where she was putting her feet. "Yes." she replied in-between gasps as she twisted her ankle. Hopping for a moment she brought her foot down and pushed through the pain. After a while it dissipated to a dull ach, she knew it wasn't bad. As log as she didn't trip again, it would be fine. "Incomplete, your energy has holes in it." she said flatly frowning, "It's making things difficult to see." she added.

"Plug it." she demanded.

"Toots. What the hell are you talking about?" he asked her. It wasn't hard to see that she didn't enjoy the darkness as he did. Wasn't as comfortable in it. He moved with an inhuman dexterity, not even looking at where he was putting his feet. Looking at him it was obvious to see how exhausted he was, but judging from his running he was far from it.

The question was where that source of energy came from and what would happen once it ran out?

She reached out and grabbed hold of him, not sure what part of his anatomy that was, hand, arm, shoulder…she shrugged. Pulling him to a stop she recoiled quickly, her other hand clutching her forehead as she winced, reeling from the 'stuff' she felt from him. This was totally fucked up. Was this some sort of punishment for going totally psycho on the Hydrans on the Hammer? Was this a bug? Was she in hell, limbo or … just what the FUCK? She rubbed her forehead, resolving not to touch him again for a while. Feeling his hostility for making him stop, she slowly bent down and opened her eyes.

"There," she stuck out her finger and traced it over the area that oozed a soft blue light, the back of his thighs, ""there." she said placing the tip of her index finger on another spot, "and there." she finished standing up. "Plug em, cause it's like walking with Hansel and Gretel at the moment. You're leaving a trail that anything can follow." she stated flatly.

He grabbed her wrist, careful not to hurt it. God knew he had broken Bran's arm by just grabbing it too hard. "I would have... but I don't have a knife... So until I have one the splinters stay." He didn't have a clue of what she was talking about. Maybe he should just break her neck and be over with it?

Completely struck by the dark blue energy that crackled round hers she didn't respond. Her black eyes just locked on to it, watching how it danced and flickered. Within she could see many colours, like veins they ran through it, flecked and delicate. Was that his blood she was looking at, or was it something else? Was it the parts of his existence that he didn't share with his friends? Were those threads of memories that stretched out across the stars to the origins of their creations? She smiled in reaction, "It's beautiful." she said softly completely dazzled.

"Polly… get your shit together..." the marine started aggressively.

"Sure," she replied, "let go of me and we can move on." Her eyes came close to resting on his, her face tilting to the side as she stared past him.

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Twelve

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

They continued to run in silence. All Dhani could do was to try and keep up with the marine. They came to a small canyon where Baile stopped. He took a couple of deep breaths to slow down his pulse, but wasn't really aware of doing it. There was something else. He looked south, in the direction where they had been going. No. Not that way. Not now. "We go east..." he told her.

It wouldn't be the shortest path to the Starfleet front, but it would be the safer one. Somewhere deep inside he felt a disappointment deep as an abyss over the fact he had to go around whatever it was that was out there.

Dhanishta turned her face to the east, her breath coming slow and shallow as she tried to recover from the running and prepare her body for the next leg of their journey. Taking a step forward she recoiled, grabbing her head once more as noise assaulted her.

"No!" she said forcibly, her face scrunching up with pain. She could feel them, the loyal soldiers of the Federation, so many of them … dying. She knew they were Starfleet officers from the thoughts as they died, the pangs of misery for leaving loved ones behind, the memories of love washing through their minds while their bodied succumbed to the sweet release of death.

"We go north." she said flatly. As if on queue she raised a hand at his protesting, "We go north because that is where they are landing. To the East is where our men are dying." She paused for a moment, "You can smell them yes?" she asked, yet didn't wait for him to reply, she already knew the answer.

"Tell me when you can smell their blood mingling with the dirt." she requested, knowing the very soon that scent would fill his nostrils, for she had already seen it, almost as if it was happening now, yet she knew that it hadn't, not yet.

"To save them isn't to join them but to cut to the quick. Cut off its head and the tail will die too. We go north." she said again, beginning to walk away from him.

"The fuck we will…" Baile growled. "Yes… I can smell the fuckers… I can also smell Hydrans there..." There was no way in hell he'd go there. He knew what would happen if they did. "We go there and we might die... they're dead anyway."

She whirled round to face his voice, "They die, we die, who gives a flying fuck?" she shouted, "It's a better place than here. So what if we get there a little faster? It makes no difference anyway. Now or then, we are still going there. And if you want to wait it out here for much longer then we cut off the head. We go north, we attack the Hydran. Leave the others in the east; there is no point in wasting our efforts there, within half an hour the Hydran will be on top on them like a swarm of locusts. It will take us an hour to reach them, and that's taking me out of the equation. We go north and we intercept the bastards as they land. That way, whatever swarms those in the east will be all." She paused and took a step closer towards him, feeling his energies vibrating out all around her, "And that way, you get to come out and play." she said indicating the animal with in the man.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into..." he said quietly. He pushed down the desire to engage in combat as hard and as deep as he possibly could. "If we go north then this little trek will be over." he told her flatly. Damn that woman! She had no idea what this was doing to him.

He growled at her. His alien eyes blazing at her with hatred, but the hatred was not directed at her but at everything around them. He was born for war. Baile understood that now and had done for quite some time, yet if he gave in then there was no telling what would happen.

He took a deep breath, held it, then slowly exhaled. "North it is then... but remember - whatever happens is your fault. I've warned you."

She nodded once. "Ma…" she stopped herself from saying what she was about to. Best save that for later, it might be the only way to bring him back, or bring any part of him back once this was over.

She could see the thing that ate away inside, see the humanity slipping from him. And she knew what tied him to this world, though it could easily make him crossover to the next if his feeling for his ghost were as strong as she believed they were.

Partly she envied him, envied his clarity of self. She didn't have that any more. She didn't know what was happening to her. Yet he knew what he was now. She remembered a time when he didn't, when he still fought the urges within him. She could see him loosing the battle to hold on.

Was she stronger than him? She hadn't given in yet, at least not completely to the voice inside her head, to the memories.

Or maybe her path was just like his. Maybe it would take more time to accept what she had done, and then turn into it, like he was doing.

Maybe he wouldn't change, maybe something would save him. Yet she knew it wouldn't be today, and it wouldn't be her.

"North then." She said coldly turning from him she began to jog.

It took them maybe an hour to get there. He guided her just as he had guided Marines for so many years. As they approached the screaming, screams that died out one by one, he slowly changed. The world around him changed. Time stretched out. They couldn't see the enemy, but it was there. Oh by god almighty it was there.

He studied the area for a few seconds, locating dead Starfleet soldiers where they lay. Two had been booby-trapped with grenades, clever and skillfully. He didn't see the trap per say, but trusted his instincts when it told him the traps were there.

She watched him as close as she could. Trying to keep up with him, yet at the same time determined to keep her distance. They were on the battle field now, she could feel it, feel the warm spaces where souls used to be, even if she could no longer see the cages that housed them; for once a body dies, it looses all of it energies.

All pain was gone now, replaced by a drive, a grim determination to wipe out anything that came. Slowly he walked out into the clearing, crouching slightly as he did so. He didn't really have any weapons to speak of, but there was plenty of that on the ground.

She noted his form of swirling energy coil, she followed suite and squatted close to the ground. He seemed to disappear almost out of view as he slowed his breathing, calmed his fury and reached out with his senses. She could feel him too now. His vibrations softer now, like echo location emanated from him, he was becoming one with all that surrounded him. Dhani watched, both fascinated and terrified. His color changed from that dark furious blue to a mellow green that seemed to encapsulate the essence of the landscape. She swallowed hard, shifting her weight as held her breath.

A twig broke behind him and it was nearly the end of Dhani as it snapped under the sole of her boot. The breaking of the twig sounded like gunfire in his ears, a gunfire that was almost instantly replaced by the drums. The distant drums.

The salvo from the Hydran gun missed him by an inch. He rolled to the side, got his hand on a small rock and hurled it with precision. That in itself was a strange thing. Baile had hardly been an expert at hurling things at his opponents before the Hydran temple. Now, what ever his hands grabbed seemed to turn into a weapon.

The tiny rock closed the distance in the blink of an eye and struck the Hydran dead center in one of his three eyes. The pain was simply amazing. He bellowed despite of himself and when he looked again the human was gone from his sight. Only the female remained. The Hydran trained the gun on Dhani instead.

She was oblivious to the impending danger, for all she could see nestled in the shadows before her were the glowing bundles, like embers in a fire, secluded in what she assumed to be grass, for she could feel it against her hands as she squatted there on the damp earth. She was slap bang in the middle of the Hydrans crosshairs, yet she couldn't see the weapon. It was a man created inanimate object, with no soul; it therefore sank into the darkness that encapsulated everything her new 'vision' deemed to be insignificant.

That was as far as it got however as a knife traveled the same path as the rock had done mere seconds ago, but that was not aimed at an eye. It struck the throat, killing instantly.

What happened next was a blur for Dhanishta. Having seen Baile merge into his surroundings like a chameleon, she was now unaware of his location. She partly expected what was coming yet at the same time, as Baile rose, swelling like a force of nature, she was so under prepared it was just not funny.

The lights danced before her, Bailes energy just seemed to rise up and snuff the life out quicker than anything else she had ever seen. The things she had witnessed from her own hands, the memories that replayed over and over in her nightmares, were nothing in comparison to the force of Baile. His lust, it took him over. There was nothing of him left; he succumbed completely to the thing that ate away at him. She quivered as she watched him, no not a him, it was a thing.

He was even more terrifying than Victor Von Death Man; he was a pussy cat in comparison. Victor was natural, organic, even though he was the very essence of death incarnate in a mans' body and completely terrifying in his own right, he was still very much one with this world, he was part of this world. Baile was simply not. He defiled nature with his presence, even though he commanded it as if he were part of it, he was not. He was alien to everything that surrounded him, he was not of this world, not of this plane of creation, he was not of man, yet created by, and just like the weapons, that made him soulless.

She couldn't watch any more as he came down on the enemy like Thor's Hammer until none of them stood. Each hit, each contact with the enemy hurt them, killed them. His hands sought and found their weak points like a moth to a flame, expect this moth killed the flame and whatever was near it. They died, oh how they died!

Her body had gone numb as she was mesmerized by him, yet she had to move, she had to run. For if she didn't… she couldn't contemplate that fate, for it was worse than how she had murdered that child, worse than all the other deaths of the dammed souls that assaulted her mind in every week moment. Slipping as she scrambled to her feet on the wet grass, she used her hands to aid her escape from him, like a dog she began to run, until she had enough balance and momentum to stay on two feet. She didn't care that she couldn't see the ground below her any more; she kept her knees high and let the adrenaline that surged within her body to keep from feeling any pain as she stumbled through potholes and the changing gradient of the terrain.

*off: backpost, Day 10 of the Occupation

"Reality is in the Eye of the Beholder" - part two

Lt. Ella Grey
Daro Cole, apc
Death (written by Robert)

****

The Grey Residence,
Santa Clara

"Stop," Death repeated. "Or I will do it for you."

"You're not real." Ella replied. "None of this is real so you have no power here."

"Of course I do," Death smiled his terrible smile. "Stop," he repeated. "Or I will stop you. It will hurt less if you do it."

Ella glared at him. She didn't want to die, of course, but she especially didn't want to die irritated. "This is MY head. You can't shepherd me here, Victor."

"I'm not Victor," Death repeated again. "Not now. Not here."

"Whatever," She replied. "Neither if you have any say."

"Perhaps," Death whispered. "But if I didn't, would I be here? And if I am here, then I have the power to enforce what I say."

"Interesting," Ella replied, shifting a pillow behind her back. "But I say that you are here only because I wanted to see Victor, in whatever form I could get, one last time before I died. And if you are a figment of my imagination, obviously you aren't really there, and therefore have none of the aforementioned stopping powers."

Ella looked at him smugly.

Cole sighed.

Death frowned at her, and then tilted his head to the side in a disturbingly Victor-like manner to study her. A wave of cold passed over and through Ella as his eyes stared at her, starting at her feet and moving up to her head before settling in her chest. "Ah," he nodded, "your heart."

Ella struggled not to shudder, after all he wasn't real.

"Electrocution is bad for you."

"I know. It burns like a fire that runs along every nerve in your body," Death whispered, the words cold and terrifying. "All of your synapses fire at once, without control or end, a moment of pain that seems to last forever." He smiled, chillingly. "But nothing lasts forever. Everything ends, even pain... unless I say that it doesn't."

"I can appreciate that vid you showed me, that's for sure." She replied, thinking of some of the programs that Victor had once shown her when they were friends. He had been electrocuted once while fighting a Borg, although she thought that it was nothing compared to the human skewer he had once become. "And you're still not real."

Death just laughed and looked at Cole. "No, *he* isn't real."

Cole shrugged, "Never said I was."

"Oh, honestly," Ella snapped. "Neither of you are real. This is just my brain firing a few synapses off before the big finale."

"You don't understand," Death frowned. "You never did." He took a step towards her. "This isn't a dream." Another step and his presence pushed at her, pressing her against the pillows. "You're not going to die."

Ella inhaled sharply. "I have a good imagination and I remember what you're like in real life. So you're not proving anything."

Death took another step, the pressure against Ella increasing again, although this time less in a physical manner and more in an odd, immaterial one. "I don't have to prove anything," Death continued, "and whatever it is that you remember, or think that you remember, doesn't matter either."

Death paused by the side of her bed and frowned down at her, his Starfleet uniform - Victor's uniform - as perfect and neat as Victor's always was unless he'd just been in a fight, the only thing out of place being the old Phaser 1 that Victor always carried clipped to his waist instead of the modern Phaser 2 he was issued, a series of green lights blinking on it in a pattern that made no sense to her. Death looked down at her with Victor's face - except it wasn't really Victor's face - and said, "Only one thing matters."

"W..what?" Ella stuttered. For being a figment of her imagination, she sure was beginning to feel ... compressed.

"That you live," Death said as he plunged his hand into Ella's chest bloodlessly, reaching past and through skin and muscle and bone without tearing it, his fingers seeking and finding her heart as it sat, still, in her chest. Cold as ice, they wrapped around her heart gently, as Death looked down at her through Victor's pale blue eyes.

Ella's eyes widened. "That ... hurts."

"No," Death whispered. "This does." Green light flashed from within her, penetrating her skin and clothing and shining like a small green star was contained inside her chest. Light danced through her, burning like acid, running along her veins and arteries until it looped back to her heart and exploded there.

"You should have done this yourself," Death told her from behind green eyes threaded with black. "Like I told you to."

She couldn't push him back so she grabbed his face. Her fingers found flesh that felt like metal, cold as space, alive with malice.

Not Victor.

"Oh," Ella breathed. "I understand."

"Holding Thunder In Check"

(Takes Place During The Second Battle of Romulus)

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Commander James Corgan

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Bridge
The Present

"What's the Thunderchild's position?" Daren asked in one of the momentary lulls that all battles possessed. "Is she still following the battle plan? No deviations?" He hoped there wouldn't be, but the conversation he'd had only two days before made him wonder.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Captain's Ready Room
48 Hours Before The Battle

The talk with T'lan straightened his course. It was so obvious; why did James have any doubts before? When he convoluted his arguments with terms like loyalty and pride, he forgot the original reason why he was bothered by Captain Albrecht's plan. It was reckless and stupid!

Armed with T'lan's advice and the discussion he had with the captain of the Thunderchild, James Corgan came to Captain M'Kantu's ready room and announced his visit with the ring of the bell.

"Hope I'm not too late." James sighed.

"Come in," M'Kantu replied without looking up at the sound of the announcer.

He came into the ready room, not prepared with what he saw. The ready room must have sustained some damage in battle. The replicator was a soot covered husk and some damage was done to the walls. Captain M'Kantu was also worn out like his ship, showing evidence that he hadn't a proper sleep in days. James could relate, but while Corgan was naturally an insomniac that pushed himself hard, M'Kantu was one of the major architects of the combined fleet's strategy, and that had its own demands on the mind and body.

"Sir, I need to speak to you. It's urgent." James said.

"It always is these days," Daren acknowledged. He waved James to a seat.

"Have a seat, Commander, and tell me what I can do for you today."

"Thank you, sir." James Corgan took his seat. There was a slight pinch in the cushion, probably a piece of metal from the replicator. James had suffered through worse. "I'd hate to say it sir, but this is not about any reports, though I might as well tell you, search and rescue operations are all done and I have my staff helping with the repairs.

Any others that don't have the qualifications are on guard duty, but you already know about that. This is more important. It is... about one of the captains in the fleet."

After a moment's reflection on Allah and his methods of assigning tests for his followers to rise to the occasion and pass, Daren nodded. "All right, Commander. Which captain in specific?"

James continued calmly, "Well, before the Galaxy, I served on one other vessel, the USS Thunderchild. I was there on my cadet cruise during the Battle of Sector 001, and I was there during the last year of the Dominion War as a newly minted ensign. In my time, there has always been one Captain, and he still serves on that crew today. He is Captain Jerry Pearson Albrecht, and during my time with him I have gotten to know the man. He takes pride in getting to know his troops, no matter how much they hate him, and knowing him, that is why I have to talk to you. I think... he is about to do something very stupid."

Based o what he knew of Albrecht, Daren wasn't necessarily surprised that someone might think that of the man. Daren, himself, had thought it on more than one occasion in the past. And given the timing, he was afraid that he knew what the stupidity in question was going to be. "Is that a general feeling, or is there something specific that you're afraid that he's planning to do?" he asked.

"Sir, Captain Albrecht approached me, hoping to garner support for a battle plan against the Starbeast. He felt that his idea was ignored, and hoped that I could convince you to give his idea consideration, in hopes that if he had more captains on his side that Admiral Murdock would have no choice but to try his plan."

"I see." Privately, Daren thought that the plan Albrecht had proposed was just short of insane. "And what was your answer?"

James shook his head and chuckled, "I got across the message that he can go f**k himself."

"I hope, at least," Daren returned, "that you avoided using that exact phrasing, Commander. No matter how... unusable... the idea he proposed, he is still a superior officer."

James grinned mischievously, "I can assure you Sir, I was very diplomatic about it." ~"Was I? I don't f**king remember..."~

"Good," Daren sighed. "We've got enough ruffled feathers right now trying to get everyone to work together, we didn't need another set. Was that all?"

"Sir, it isn't." James Corgan added with a shiver, "I served under that Captain. I was part of his throwaway infantry formations he tended to use so liberally. I know how he will function and act in this battle.

Have you heard of the Battle of Hattra?"

"Yes."

"Well, in one engagement in the 9th fleet, Captain Albrecht had a similar disagreement with his Fleet Admiral, so behind his back, so rumor says, Albrecht prepped a landing on the planet Hattra with his security units at the forefront. The plan called for an encirclement of the planet and a siege from high orbit, but Captain Albrecht instead charged straight in, dropped troops in the centre of the Cardassian formation, and almost got shot down destroying the local orbital defenses. He cited communications failure and a problem with his impulse engines. A weak excuse that got a lot of people killed. The fact that this maneuver won us the planet two weeks ahead of schedule made him a hero in the Federation News Service, and that's even with 80% casualties from his units. It's been his method of choice all through his career.

Pyrrhic victories, all of them."

"I remember," Daren nodded. "No one believed that's what happened at the time, but the prospect of everything simply being... over... made it easy to sweep things like that under the rug."

James momentary silence carried with it an odd introspection, but he continued with a sullen seriousness he rarely demonstrated, "The reason he does what he does is because he believes Starfleet ~is~ weak. He believes Starfleet is too afraid to take heavy casualties in order to win wars. He is even quoted to saying 'Never be afraid of the butcher's bill'. But the problem is that he will just throw people into a meat grinder, whether it's needed or not. I was lucky enough to survive those encounters, but I will kid you not. A lot of good people didn't."

"Not here, he won't," Daren said firmly. "This isn't the Dominion War, with its sprawling battle lines and loose control. I won't tolerate it, and you can be damn certain that Admiral Murdoch won't."

"My advice to you is to keep an eye on the Thunderchild. He'll vary it, but he'll try to fake some trouble so that he can get out of formation and go out on his own."

Daren nodded slowly, once. "I'll watch for it, and I'll tell the others to watch for it too... and," he said with a grim look, "I think I'm going to tell Jerry that we'll all be doing it - just so there's no misunderstanding."

"That is what I hoped for, sir." James rose out of his chair, snapped a perfect salute, "If you will excuse me sir, I have preparations for what remains of my security staff in regards to the ship's defenses. They are ready, and just to let you know, ship to ship infantry was one of my first specialties. Let me know if you need any boarding parties."

"I hope to avoid that if I can, Commander," Daren nodded. "But I'll keep it in mind. You might want to have at least one team standing by in environment suits though - the Hydrans might try their tactic of landing demolitions teams on the hull again and I want to be ready for that if they do."

Nodding, James said, "I usually do, sir. And speaking of which I must go. There's still a lot of work to be done. Until then..."

"Until then, Commander," Daren nodded.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Bridge
The Present

"She's still holding to the battle plan, sir," MacKenzie called out from Tactical.

"Let me know if she does, Commander," Daren responded. "We may have to do something I don't want to do if Jerry decides he can't follow orders like the rest of us."

"Aye, sir."

Daren frowned as he turned back to the battle. "He had the Thunderchild's command codes, given him by Admiral Murdoch, but he didn't want to use them if he didn't have to. Still... it was better than opening fore on a Federation vessel. "Just keep it in your pants, Jerry," he whispered to himself. "Follow orders. Don't through everything away because you can't let someone else's plan work."

“The Lion's Offensive: Part 1”

By Captain Jerry Pearson Albrecht
Captain of the USS Thunderchild, Akira Class

*****

USS Thunderchild

*****

Captain J.P. Albrecht was not a happy man.

As a ship battlegroup leader in the rear echelon, he was not a happy man and would never be. J.P. Albrecht was used to being up front, used to the action that came when his ship was the first to charge in, its phasers firing maddeningly at targets, rocked by enemy fire, a bumpy trip of chaos that promised glory as a reward. He was used to being first, first to charge, first to shoot, first to reach the objective.

Now why wasn't he first?

Admiral Murdock and Captain M'Kantu had a lot to do with Albrecht's rearguard action. It was a tense, hour long meeting after the final phase of planning. Albrecht wanted to object to his position and bring back his Starbeast offensive plan, but was instead lectured about his 'methods'. They didn't like his liberal use of sentient life, and thought his plan too reckless and bloody to even consider, much less execute.

It was expected from such spineless leaders, just like the days of old, J.P. Told himself from his Captain's chair, awaiting the final order to advance. Before the Dominion War, the Federation was ill prepared for any war, and it wasn't because of its increasing inventory of obsolete ships, its out of practice corp or the fact that Starfleet was a half century behind most other superpowers when it came to modern tactics.

It was psychology. Starfleet, the whole Federation even, was not psychologically prepared to do what was necessary to win wars. It hadn't had a major war against any spacefaring power, except for a few scattered incidents where even the mighty Galaxy class ships were in danger of being destroyed, since the Cardassian conflict (which was minor by modern standards). The Federation in general was a great government for peace, and Starfleet was a great peacekeeper.

But when war came, Starfleet was a terrible defender, and it had to do with Starfleet Command's unwillingness to sacrifice lives. With war as a bloody business, death was necessary, even to J.P.'s own men. It was necessary in the Dominon War. Trillions of lives were lost, hundreds of thousands of them Starfleet's finest.

It was these sacrifices that saved the Federation. When the decision to charge for Cardassia changed, J.P. thought Starfleet understood and learned from its mistakes. It was a corp he was proud to be in.

But the mistakes from the past came in. Peace made Starfleet compliant once again, too sheepish to fight in the maw of hell.

They would need an example again.

Just like Hattra.

“Number One.” J.P. Albrecht summoned his first officer, “Status.”

He was given a new X.O. months ago, and had yet to break in the new officer. Charles Mathis was an intimidating brute of a sorts, a tower of six-foot-five, dark skinned, South African muscle that had an intellect often unassociated with men of his size and physical acumen. As big as he was, the young officer was still a little gun shy.

He announced in his rich baritone accent, “Sir, what remains of our ground forces are suited up and ready for boarding actions. All weapons and defensive systems are online and ready to fire on your order.”

“Good.” Albrecht's voice swaggered in its native Langley Virginia, “And the enemy?”

“Still waiting.” Mathis said. “With Starbeast in the rear.”

“Very good.” Albrecht crossed his fingers together, “How do you feel about being relegated to the reserve units?”

Mathis hesitated to speak. A look from Albrecht urged the X.O. on, “Sir, we provide an important role in the entire battle plan. We are a reserve unit. If the front units collapse, we are there to provide cover to expedite their retreat to fall back positions. We are also to provide long distance covering fire for the advancing fleet. Our role is paramount to their plan.”

Albrecht shook his head in disdain. Didn't he teach anything to this man yet? “You know why we are here, Commander Mathis. It's not because we are key to any plan. We are here because of politics. Do you know why?”

Mathis grumbled, “Can't say I do, sir.”

“It is because Starfleet is afraid. They have an excessive amount of rear guards, myself included, because they are afraid. They lost the last battle because they are afraid, and if they continue on, even with all these allies, they will lose because they will continue to be afraid to do what is necessary to survive out here. I pointed that out to them, and they put me here. I mean... put us here. Not a dignified way to treat a battle tested Captain, isn't it?”

Mathis was uncertain as to what to say, for fear of upsetting the Captain. “Sir?”

“Commander, we must not be afraid to take these risks. If we hold back today, we will lose the battle.”

Realizing what Albrecht was going to say, Mathis' sweat turned cold. His eyes wide, his face tense, he dreaded to hear what the Captain of the Thunderchild had to say. J.P. knew this. ~”Just like everyone else in Starfleet. Too afraid to do what needs to be done.”~ He thought. In his time on the Thunderchild, Mathis hadn't learned a thing from Albrecht's example. He would have thought Mathis would learn the importance of fighting for what was right, but Albrecht instead saw in the massive man a weakling afraid of the enemy's phasers.

“You listen to me Commander and you listen good!” Albrecht hissed his hatred at his XO, “I have to deal with weaklings from high command and I won't deal with them on my ship. You are either with me or against me, and I don't permit people to be against me! I know you think i'm a fool, and I know you're afraid. That's why i'm in this seat and you're not! But if you learn from my example, you will see... oh you will see... just what we are capable of when you are not afraid.” He then said with a baleful stare of his 'look', “You are with me, aren't you?”

The big man had a mental step back, his will surrendered to Albrecht's force of personality. “What do you propose, sir?”

Albrecht keyed in his console a command. On his viewscreen he brought up a battle map of the area. The allied fleet was arrayed agains the Hydran's alliance fleet, and in the centre was the Starbeast. Thunderchild's icon blinked on the screen, in the rear.

“We can charge through clear to the Starbeast.” Albrecht pointed to the screen, to a small gap in the lines, “See that over there? That is a fake gap, meant to close ships in as they advance. It makes for a good killing zone. That is our way in.”

Mathis barked, “Sir! That's suicide!”

Albrecht screamed, “I thought you were with me! If you think I'm going to kill us all this way, you're wrong. I said it is a good kill zone... but only in sublight. Now watch what happens if I move our vessel to this position...” The Thunderchild's icon was then moved on the screen, intersecting in front of the gap that led to the Starbeast. “A perfect line of attack.”

“For what sir?” Mathis objected, “We cannot go through there without being killed, and long range weaponry isn't enough to hurt the beast. What do you plan on doing there?”

Albrecht chuckled. His protege sometimes didn't get the subtle nuances of strategy. “Mathis, what we're going to do is charge right in. The kill zone only works on ships in sublight speeds. Anything faster and they would have to go to warp for their disruptors and phasers to be caught in the subspace warp field to go fast enough to hit their vessels. However, they can't go to warp inside a solar system. Too many gravitational pulls, too much risk of slamming into a planetoid. See where I'm getting at, number one?”

Mathis nodded his head, “I see. But if going to warp isn't good enough for them, what makes it good enough for us?”

Albrecht responded, “Commander, it's risk. We have to take it in war. They can't do it because of the confined spaces and the dangers therein. A whole fleet can't even do it. But it has been done many times before and it has even worked... for single ships. The calculations are complicated, but they can be done. If we time our warp properly, we would have bypassed their protections on the Starbeast. From there, we can land our ground forces on the beast itself, set tri-cobalt charges on key points, and run back to the frontline before anyone even knew.”

Mathis disagreed, and made no secret of it. “We would be trapped behind lines and shot. The warp corridor would be closed. We wouldn't have a line of escape.”

Albrecht countered, “We will if we're fast enough. We'll have five minutes time. By then we can warp out of the system and rejoin the fight. If it goes wrong, they won't leave us behind. Its an action like this that will get Starfleet off its lazy ass and fight. No more safe bets, no more scared captains sipping their teas from their comfortable chairs using their deflector dishes to solve all their problems. This times its duranium ships, iron men. This is for brave people to do, to take chances, grab that chance for the win, and we must not be afraid to do whatever it takes. Mathis... I know you don't like my plan, and if there was a better way to win this war I would do it, but this is the only option. You're loyal to Starfleet, but on this ship you will have to be loyal to me, because I am what Starfleet should be. I fight for her ideals and i'm not afraid to do what it takes to win. Now, are you with me, and Starfleet?”

Albrecht then pointed to two security guards and the turbolift, “Or are you with a bunch of scared commanders? If you are, I can have you sit out this battle. I don't actually need you to execute this plan, but I would rather that you participated. What do you say, number one? What do you choose?”

Mathis was an intimidating man in a staredown, and his size contrasted to Albrecht's bony, aged frame. The big XO, however, was losing the battle of wills. Albrecht had the confidence and experience, and his face stayed the same, so cold and so sure of itself it almost looked as if he smiled, sure of his victory, while Mathis, in stony silence, was cracking and wavering inside.

“I'm with you, Captain.” Mathis broke and finally said.

Albrecht smiled. He slapped a hand on the bigger officer's shoulder. “Good. Call engineering and get the proper calculations done, and don't tell a soul outside of that circle. Chief Henderson will go through with this plan, you can count on that, and he'll be able to plan a warp jump out of the zone. Then go to acting Chief Knight in security and brief him on my plan for the landings. Make sure his men are ready. Nobody outside this ship should know, and even the people here must have the idea that this is part of the big plan. This is not approved by Starfleet, but if we pull this off, we'll be heroes. Nobody will give a damn who we disobeyed if our actions win the war. Think about that.”

Mathis nodded, “Yes sir. I'll start right away.”

“Good.” Albrecht said, halting his officer, “And one more thing.”

“Yes sir?”

Albrecht said as if warning of a fate worse than death, “Don't make me lose faith in you.”

“Yes sir.” Mathis said in finality, leaving the conversation at that, exiting to the turbolift to be alone with his own thoughts.

As for Albrecht, he was in deep thought too, but of a different sort. He knew his plan was going to work. If they warped, M'Kantu and Murdock would be too slow to stop the Captain. By the time their demands for court martial would be heard, Albrecht would be hailed by the Federation News Service as a hero, and the Romulans who's homeland he saved would not demand his head but a medal.

It was to go as planned.

It always went as planned if one was brave enough to go through with it.

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Thirteen

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

He looked the last Hydran in the last eye it had. He had cut of the other two before sweeping the legs from underneath it. It nearly howled in terror as memories it didn't understand surfaced. It wasn't a terror as much as it was the same feeling as you get when you burn yourself on something hot. You want it gone.

No human had ever fought like that and no human ever would. Nor would a Vulcan fight like that, or a Klingon. Or any other species for that matter. Only Baile would. Baile and his brethren.

She dint know how far she had run, how much distance separated her from the monster. Right now she wished that Victor was here. He at least would defend her, long enough for her to get away. He may be Death incarnate, but he still had control, he still had ethics, in some fashion. The demon behind her did not.

And she could feel his eyes, those bright sparks of amber penetrating her body.

And then it hit her, she felt the pain in her gut as she ran, felt it before it happened. Whirling round, she back stepped, unable to see the knife that was hurtling towards her, but yet she felt it, felt the hatred he had engraved into it with his touch.

Instinctively she held up her hands, and pushed back will all her minds might.

She felt the tip of the blade gently scratch the palm of her hand as it halted in mid air. Breathing heavily, she opened her eyes and searched the darkened shadows for any sign of his aura, his energy, his color. It had to be out there somewhere in the darkness.

Yet no… he had merged with that too. And now he was all around, in everything and everywhere all at once. And there was nothing Dhani could do but stand there and wait for him to take her.

~Forget~ she commanded, begged, pleaded… ~Forget.~ Just like when she had been on the ship with Burton the 'how' came to her, just as natural as breathing…. Yet to penetrate the darkness, and beg it to forget, that thing which was just the absence of light… was it even possible?

She prayed that it would be… "Forget!" she screamed loudly into the stillness of the night.

What happened next was more terrifying, more heart stopping than anything Dhanishta could have ever dreamed of. As she stood there, surrounded by the blackness she felt him rise like a mist around her, along with a cold sweat that seeped out of every pore of her skin. She tired to grab hold of him in her mind, reach out and hook him, yet it was like trying to grasp mercury. The sweat that soaked her cloths, chilling her as they stuck to her body, began to drip down her face with the exertion of forcing herself into his mind. The sweat trickled into her eyes, stinging them. Her face knitted with pain as she strained against him. The utter abject terror she felt from this monster fuelled her to press on.

Yet what if she couldn't break him, what if she didn't have the strength to push through… what then? Panic added itself to the onslaught of emotions that coursed through her like a raging river, unrelenting.

They both knew that he could make this quick for her. Yet Baile, or rather the thing he was, the thing he was rapidly becoming as the death toll from his hand mounted, wanted to savor this moment, like he had waited for all eternity for it and it was his last dying wish.

The hand that would have ended her life stopped inches from her. The fist would have struck Dhani on her throat, tearing nerves and veins all while the violent collapse of her airway would have suffocated her. But that wouldn't have been the killing blow. The fist would then have opened itself up and the palm of the hand would have struck the bottom of her chin, snapping her neck. But it didn't.

It stopped instead.

And slowly, as time itself was prolonged to stretch out each fraction of a second so it lasted for hours, she felt his large muscular hands reach round her neck.

His fingers curled round her throat, squeezing every last breath out of her. Yet she had another voice, one that was just as strong, one that could scream louder, more clearly and penetrate more deeply than any uttered by that of flesh.

She fought with all her might to be heard in the marines mind. To shatter the walls that he had erected with such force for a human. Yet she knew he was more than that, and at the same time, less than that.

In this moment of terror things came to her that had always seemed to be within her. As she felt his hand crushing round her wind pipe in an unyielding vice grip, she was ironically reminded of Sark. The warm hands of her mentor on her face, the gentle lull of his voice as he connected his mind to hers, eased her through the transition from body to mind as expertly as a musician rises in tone, clarity and emotion.

All at once things flooded back into her mind that had long been buried. Dhanishta was not a victim, though she had been all her life in one way or another. But deep within her she too contained a dark secret, blacker than space, darker than the void that surrounded her now. And now that secret was going to come to aid her, instead of torment her as it had for all this time.

She pushed through his mind with a new resolve, and instead of being amazed when her voice slid into his mind like a hot poker through butter, she wasn't, for she knew that she had a power stronger than his. And she could break him, just like she had broken so many before.

As her voice slithered its way into his head, blinded by the multitude of paths to take it stumbled into a booby trap. How natural that Baile, a man of the marines, and not just any, the Crows; it was inevitable that his mind would be littered with surprises, just as unpredictable as his character.

Dhanishta gasped as she finally saw his eyes come into view. They we so close to hers that they merged into one bright light, so blinding that she pulled back, yet was held by his grip, forced to stay.

And then she fell through that pit of fiery amber and through to the other side…

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Fourteen

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

Baile struggled backwards, his entire being focused on killing the creature in front of him. Then something went past the walls that surrounded and guarded his mind and exploded there. Every single muscle in Baile's body cramped, his face locked in a grimace of anger, hate and utter pain. He staggered backwards, forced back by an invisible wind or even a hand.

"Fuck..." Baile whispered as the seizures overwhelmed his body. The marine screamed at the top of his lungs or at least imagined he did so.

The engineer screamed as well but for entirely different reasons. She screamed out on all sorts of levels, in her mind; projecting her mental voice to all that could hear it, and with her voice once his vice grip freed her. When her lungs ran out of air she still continued to scream, a soundless whimper echoing throughout the forest. Images overwhelmed her, feelings she didn't understand, places she had never seen, people she had never met.

It all rampaged through her mind rising to a point of abject terror that would stop any ones heart but hers. She had felt fear like that, from many of her victims, yet what she saw in Bailes mind was more terrifying for her than anything else that she had witnessed. To see the image was to live the terrifying moments of a telepaths worst nightmare and death. Even though she had lived through so much and felt such pain death and despair, this was so beyond that, she would never be able to describe it in words.

What she saw, what she felt, the thing he was meant to be. The thing he was going to become if he continued to walk the path he was on with his steady unfaltering pace. He was the thing, the *only* thing that could kill her. She knew how to fight with her hands. She knew how to fight with her mind. All of it was flooding back to her at a rate she couldn't quite fathom. So many things had been locked away inside her, she knew them; knew how to read minds, how to implant thoughts and desires into others. She knew how to kill without raising a finger. She could take a persons energy and snuff it out with just the power of thought. She remembered how to do all these things, yet never really knowing when she understood it. Yet the memories were there, and also something else.

Something blocked her from ever going all the way. She felt guilt for using that power in the cell with Burton. She felt guilt for then taking that memory from Burton and making her believe that she had been the murderer. She felt guilt for all the memories of suffering she believed were hers. And that was what stopped her from becoming everything she saw in her memories.

Yet in this moment as she whimpered, "Oh god... oh merciful gods... God, god, god, god…" and fell to her knees, her hands over her head, tears falling freely from her eyes, something stirred within the woman, something that had only been able to glimpse the light of day for fleeting moments.

"No, no, no..." she whispered, her eyes no longer seeing anything.

Dhanishta rose as quickly as her body would let her and again she ran. She couldn't see where she was going, her body lurched and jerked with the landscape as she bumbled over it.

While she ran for her life once more, that something within awoke.

Even after the rejoining of these two personalities after the coma, even though Dhanishta could see and feel all she was supposed to be, even then she had still balked against the memories, balked against the rising 'something' within her. All the repressed memories had swirled to form another persona within the young engineer; it had tried for years to be heard, to be allowed to breathe unhampered by the guilt that Dhanishta felt.

It had stolen any moment that it could, first raising its head with the marine she was currently running from. And then again when Dhanishta had finally used the skills she possessed, and went running like a sap to Victor Von Death Man. He had been a great help in breaking her though. 'She' had been good enough to leave the forefront of the engineers mind when Death bestowed the crushing line that Dhani had feared; "Hundreds," he had whispered through the lips of Victor, "There are hundreds of deaths to be laid at your feet. Is that the answer you wished?"

Yet even then, even when the engineer had heard the truth of what she was, even then she had still resisted. Resisted the longing and the lust for pure brutality.

But now 'She' was going to be free. This war raged around them and within, and through it 'She' was going to be liberated. Just like Starfleet raged to liberate Romulus, 'She' was going to escape from the confines of the lethargic, emotional engineer.

Swelling from within 'She' took control of Dhanishtas body with ease. Dhanishta was so distort from what she had witnessed in the mind of Baile that it was easier to take a back seat and rest her head against the window, when the tears subsided she would be able to cast her eyes to the scene beyond it. And for once, finally, she might just accept what was within her.

'She' looked out from Dhanishtas eyes and smiled. This was her battle now. And she was ready, ready to do what she did best. Murder.

The waves of colour that rose up before her, she snuffed out in an instant. This vision was hers, this way of seeing the word; in its purest of form of energy, this was all her. It was easy to command the elements; you just had to think small. Instead of trying to take something's head off, all you had to do was focus on its heart, or its blood, or its lungs, and from there, manipulate. So simple, it was like child's play.

And as the swarms of pink energy arose around her, bombarded the body she was within, Dhanishta face cracked an evil grin…

Baile woke up from the involuntary unconsciousness he had fallen into. He spat on the ground. Blood. It was hard to breathe. As he got up he could feel the pulls in the muscles. It hurt like a mother-fucker. A seven-headed mother-fucker. He looked around at the massacre he had been the cause of. He cocked his head to the side but couldn't hear or see any movement.

Dead.

Every single one of them.

What the hell had happened? He limped over to one of the Hydrans and examined the wounds. It was definitely his handiwork. An artist recognized the strokes of the brush.

Damn there were a lot of dead Hydrans!

The marine staggered to the next one and then the next one after that. They all bore his mark. But how?! Killing this many would definitely be remembered. He frowned in confusion. A stab of pain shot up his legs as a branch brushed against the back of his thighs. Shit. He could smell the infections in the wounds. Those damn rocks needed to be removed as soon as possible or he'd have the mother of all infections in a few days, one that his new abilities wouldn't be able to handle.

A knife still rested in the back of a Hydran. He pulled it out and wiped it off on the remains of his pants. He would need a fire or a welder to heat the damn thing unless one of the dead Starfleeters had a med tricorder. Even then he would have to get the splinters out. He rummaged around until he actually did find a medical tricorder. His skills were far too rudimentary to be able to do anything useful with it except the most basic, but if he could just get the splinters out it would go a long way.

He got down on his knees, getting ready to perform a painful field surgery on himself when a thought entered his mind. Dhani. Fuck. He got up on his feet with the same numbing speed with which he had fought the Hydrans. It took him a few minutes to find her track. They lead straight out into the forest, towards the Hydrans and yet hers were the only ones there. If someone followed her then Baile couldn't see their tracks.

"Fuck… dumb ass... why the hell are you going towards the Hydrans? What the hell made you run?!" he asked in a low voice. Tracking her wouldn't be difficult. She had left a mark a mile wide. What was it with Engineers and tracks? Anna was the same. She couldn't hide her tracks to save her life. She could repair just about anything and he didn't know many engineers that had a feel for the adjustments he wanted on his guns like she did. But cover her tracks? Nope.

Sighing heavily Baile began to track the missing engineer, not even aware of that the pain in his body was once more gone.

"War Party"

by the crew of the USS Eagle

OOC: Mood music is "WRO March", "Azul the Cerulan" and "Killing One Another" from the Finaly Fantasy 7: Dirge of Cerberus OST.

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

Location: Space above Romulas, section Twenty Five Theta

The graceful sides of the starship "Eagle" where now covered by plates of abalative armor which was pitted in some places where the shields had already been forced down by the weapons of the enemy's fleet. Two quantum torpedos took out an Hive corvette analoug ship while members of the Gate Keeper squadron flying Valkyrie class fighters tore up oncoming Hydran Stingers, Hive Darts, and the Breen Kohr Than assault fighters. Lances of pure hate from the Eagles PDS zatted a few of the Darts but one managed to slam in a kamkazie attack on the general location of the Eagle's bridge.

Meanwhile on the bridge of the Eagle, Leo Striker ducked under a downpour of sparks as he made his way over to the Master Situation Monitor to see what was up. Jack Fisk had already been helped to sickbay following an explosion which badly injured the acting XO's face due to a disruptor broadside. "Mister Eick, give me a status report!" Leo called over the din of battle.

The middle aged man from the Terra Nova colony quickly brought up a list of damage reports from across the ship. "Sir, Mister Garner's last report from engineering stated that he was heading to the port side nacelle section to try and get the auxiliary plamsa valves to work better but he hasn't been heard from since. Commander Hunter reports that Lieutenant Taylor who was in command of Raptor squadron has been shot down and is currently down to two fighters while Lieutenant Katraine's Gate Keeper Squadron has only lost two pilots and that's it." Eick said but then he reached out and touched a section near the port side ABS genrator and brought up a status report there. "It also seems that we're about to have exposed hull plating here. I might be able to get a kind of hull polarization like they used to use in the past before shields.." Eicks started to say before the ship lurched suddenly and the two men slammed onto their backs.

"Well frak ME!!" shouted Argo from the helm station as he rolled the ship. "Status reports say that the ABS generator on the port side just went up, Leo. If ya got one of your infamous plans I suggest that you do it now before that breen Voh Lanthe hits us with another salvo from it's port side!"

Leo's face took on a thoughtful expression for a moment before he reached over and brought up a tactical view of the enemy ship in question as he let the wheels go round before saying "Jase, gimmie a Danteri Twist in two!"

At this, Jason tried to turn his head off to look at his captain. "Leo, did I just hear you right?!" he shouted.

"Listen, if you want to survive to hear Metis quote something at us might I suggest ya bloody do it already with the answer!!" Leo shouted back at him.

Ensign Kiev, the youngest person on the bridge and newly minted operations officer looked over at his older counterpart at the helm station. "Um, what saying is that sir?" he asked timidly, almost afraid of the answer.

The man from Betazed simply said "Grab your ass, kid, because this is gonna be painful to watch!!" as Jason Argo did a move that he had only done two times before in his entire life.

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

From her seat in Gate Keeper One, Lieutenant Louanne "Kat" Katraine looked up as the her homebase twisted sharply in mid-space to keep it's smoking port section out of the range of the breen warship which had made her bleed and returned the favor with a pair of transphasic torpedos to take down the unusual shields that the class of breen warship could field which took out the enemy ship.

Kat whistled through her teeth and then heard Pilot Frank N. Gordon or "FNG" whistle also before saying =^=I did not know that a heavy cruiser could move like that, Kat.=^=

Kat snickered and thought to herself that Gordon hadn't seen what Commander Argo could really do but before she could think anymore, she heard a familiar voice over the squadron's link.

=^=WOO!! IT'S GREAT TO BE ALIVE, COME TO PAPA HAYWIRE YA LITTLE HYDRAN BASTARDS, PAPAS GOT A WHOLE BAG O' TREATS FOR YA!!!=^= shouted Flight Officer Mark "Haywire" Luchini as his Valkyrie was chasing two of the heavy fighter versions of the Stinger with his pulse and standard phasers blazing.

*Memo to myself,* thought Kat. *Increase Haywire's medication.* as she did a snap barrel roll and sent a micro-torp down the throat of a Dart fighter.

"The Messenger"
by
Writer X

The hunger... I feel the gnaw in my belly... tearing, scraping, burning...

yearning. I grind my teeth against each other in eager anticipation of the kill. Oh... How my mouth waters at the prospect of dousing it with the demon's lifeblood, to purge the evil and give it absolution in the face of my goddess.

My hands twitch with ancient glee at the thought of wrapping my hands around the throat of the heretic, the naysayer, the inferior creature that brings disfavor from Ulazhi and the Stargod.

I've been watching. Waiting for the moment to strike them down in all the rage that rails against the waves of hatred and bile I harbor for these denizens of the underworld.

So close... So very close to gratifying my masters. Only then will I be granted blessed Communion with Ulazhi's matrons. And then I shall be rewarded! The promise of demi-godhood dangles just out of reach; the last step before the precipice into the sacred realm within my grasp.

The appointed time is fast approaching... I can feel it quicken my pulse...

my chest thrusts out in rapid heaves... my soul's organic shell glistens with the tears of Ulazhi's blessed union... Ever since I awoke from another of the sacred dreams I've been experiencing of late, and found myself looking into a shimmering pool to find my lost companion staring back at me.

I had finally earned the favor of my goddess and been rewarded with strength and resolve of one of her trusted guardians. It was never a dream of the beast accompanying me on my journey, it was a test of my faith and resolve.

The water from the skies had been falling all about, mixing red and green in a potent mixture that wakened my everlasting hunger and thirst for the blood of the evil that saturated and sponged into my ravenous self. It took every ounce of will to bury the primal urges down so that I may listen to the message of my goddess.

I knew then, when the green-tinged behemoth broke through the surface and wrapped its three scaly arms around me, that I was to be sacrificed to its mission, and I became its agent of cleansing as the ultimate pinnacle of righteousness.

I am a messenger of Ulazhi, her Excalibur, her saber, her hand. I am one with Her in body, soul, and spirit, and cannot be defeated in Her personal mission. We will emerge victorious and Her word will continue on to bless the damned. We will kill, and we will together devour the hearts of the unbelievers. This is their penance.

"And All Hell Broke Lose"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell
Engineering Officer, USS Galaxy (Unofficial, Temporary Chief)
& Various NPCs

*****Main Engineering, USS Galaxy*****

No thoughts. No emotions. Just adrenaline, trained skill and fast synapses were on the go. Naranda and everyone in Main Engineering had two goals.

Survive and keep the ship functioning.

Now was not a time to lose power to ANYTHING. Already unessential systems were offline or running at minimum. Anywhere that people weren't, life support was down. It seemed some force other than physical power kept things going. Even having Savant helping wasn't keeping things together on a comfortable level.

In a way, this was her element. It wasn't exactly the position she held in battles on Sakaria. She led foot soldiers. Hand to hand, gun to gun battles.

The pressure was the same, however. She led like she was leading her battalion on Sakaria. She was cold and blunt. She would apologize later, but battle was not a time for coddling. Either work or get out of the way.

Unfortunately, that's where Mei ended up. Out of the way. She took five seconds too long to understand a command Nara gave her. Nara gave her an assignment of putting panels back on consoles. They were being fixed, but left open as it took several moments to put back and it was not a necessary thing to do at the moment. Plus it took longer as they basically ripped the panels off, bending or scraping the parts so they didn't fit just right anymore.

It was something that didn't require quick thinking. Mei needed more battle experience. More time under the gun. There would be time to toughen her later.

Emma was much better. As arrogant as she was, Nara would be grateful later, when she had time to realize it, that Emma didn't keep arguing commands. She would make a suggestion and if Nara agreed, they did that. If not agreed, Emma simply obeyed.

George was quite a trooper as well. Very efficient and professional when time came.

Everyone was at their best it seemed. A few she had to take away more meaningful responsibilities and had them working with Mei or had them simply watching the scans, shouting out what hit emergency levels.

Nara didn't have time to notice all this quite yet. Main Engineering glowed with the red light as illumination was kept to minimal working temperature.

The soot and smoke emphasized the obvious situation. Nara found herself on her back from a result of a very large, damaging hit. Alarms went off.

Ensigns called out. Nara got back on her feet, ignoring the pain that would later be a lovely shade of purple tattooing her back. She called out commands.

Someone didn't answer. She frowned, "Where's Kilsa? George, make sure those don't get under 5%!"

"She's down!"

Nara nodded, "Luke, take Kilsa's position. Someone call sickbay for Kilsa."

The orders were being followed.

Nara didn't give herself time to wonder if Kilsa had lived or just been concussed. She didn't give herself time to think of anyone they had to call sickbay for. Now was not a time to think of casualties. Now was a time to prevent as many as possible.

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Fifteen

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

It was like following a freeway in the middle of the forest that had been lit up by streetlights and neon-signs. Losing the trail wouldn't have been possible even if he had tried to. The 'moon' was rising and with light. The goggles were gone. He had lost those only God knew when and without them he was seriously handicapped. The light would hurt his eyes and give him a headache worthy of a god. It slowed him down considerably and the distance he had managed to put between himself and the accursed Hydran turned into almost nothing.

It wasn't that he was incapacitated by the light. He still had other senses to rely upon. But the way his eyes burned made it impossible to see where he was putting his feet. Perhaps it would have been different if he hadn't been so damn tired and full of cuts and scrapes but the Marine figured he wouldn't loose any sleep if that never was proven to him.

Sleep. That was probably the one thing he needed. The world moved as if slowed down. The sounds around him were muted in that way only severe sleep deprivation can make them. But still he hurried, hoping that the beasts of the Romulan home-world would leave him alone.

A small hole in the ground caused him to miss his step and he stumbled heavily onto the ground, flaying the palm of his hand against the suddenly not so soft ground. There was now a deep cut in the middle of his left palm. It had already started bleeding. He spoke a muted curse directed at no one in particular and everyone in the galaxy at the same time.

He closed his hand slowly to test how badly damaged it had been. The pain shot up to his elbow but then he felt it no more. The body had turned it off again. Jesus... was his body trying to kill him? Having a high pain threshold was one thing, but not feeling anything at all was not a good thing. He needed to feel that pain in order to assess how badly injured his hand was. 'Screw it...' he thought to himself. He had worse things happening to him than a messed up hand.

If there had been time he could probably have scrounged up the correct leaves and roots needed to make an antiseptic salve, but there was none. He got back up on his feet again. Even that was beginning to be hard to do. Despite it he looked around at where he was staying and found the trail a few seconds later.

He continued to jog for another ten minutes as he got more and more out of breath. Whatever energy had kept him going was apparently running low. 'Out of gas...' he thought with a dark mental laughter. He had barely finished that thought when the trail he followed vanished.

Not just vanished. But vanished, vanished! He looked up into the trees but saw nothing that could direct him in any direction.

"What the…" he said in a low voice, greatly irritated. Here he was, in the middle of nowhere on a planet he'd much rather blow up than save, trying to track down an engineer while some freaky Hydran was on his trail. That particular Hydran had brought a party-crew to boot. To add insult to injury he couldn't attack them because if he did then he'd have another seizure and he was fairly sure another seizure would kill him.

Join the Corps, they said.

See the world, they said.

What a fucking load of bollocks!

He didn't know which was worse - being chased by a blue three-legged Smurf or losing the trail of a Starfleet engineer whose survival skills matched that of a box full of rats in a nest of starving snakes!

The latter he supposed after a few seconds.

Definitely the latter.

He crouched down despite the warning from his thighs. Good god the muscles were stiff.

"Alright... where the hell did you go? Did you build a couple of wings out of branches and leaves and take off?'

The mystery had one positive effect on him though. For a little while the haze that had conquered his mind lifted. Baile touched the leaves with the tip of his fingers. It was

almost a tender gesture. Careful. He sniffed the air a few times and looked up at the night sky.

She had vanished into thin air he started to think but then changed his mind. The hell she had. He looked across the tiny clearing and watched the leaves dance in the faint breeze. His mind cleared from disruptive thoughts, sounds around him died out. All he did was sit there, crouched down and watched.

Suddenly he understood. "Bloody hell Betty... that was some trick…" A sly grin formed on his tired face and the two alien eyes seemed to devour even more light than they usually did. He began to stand up and felt the fatigue return with a vengeance. He had to find her and quick - least he wanted to end up getting killed by the Smurfs.

He changed directions and ran in a more north east direction this time. After perhaps two or three minutes he was sure he was heading in the right direction. Then suddenly a figure made him stop. A three-legged figure. At first he thought it was laying in ambush but hadn't heard the human approach. He was despite his tired state, a very silent figure even when running. Then the smelled reached his nose. It was dead and had died in a truly horrible manner. At least that's what the smell told him. Fear reeked.

The gun it had carried lay next to it. The Marine knelt down, silently investigating the empty shell that had once been a Hydran warrior. It had pretty much died where it had

been standing. The smell of fear came to him like a snake on the ground. It slithered to him, beckoning him to follow and so he did.

The next blue bastard lay only a few meters down from the first one. Then another one maybe ten meters down. He picked up a rifle from a body as he followed the now very obvious trail. Full. Not a single round had been fired. He cocked an eyebrow at it and tossed it aside.

This wasn't his work. Not one of them had a single mark to the body or at least not one that he could find without investigating them closer. He'd rather shave with a rabid

ferret than touch a Hydran more than was absolutely necessary.

Nor was the next one his work. None of them were.

The trail continued into the forest but the sound of the wind changed further ahead. The very border of the forest was near, perhaps no more than a few hundred feet away. He

peered into the darkness and soon he saw the edge of the forest with perfect clarity. He didn't like the idea of leaving the cover the forest provided but then again he didn't exactly run around in joy at the thought of staying in it. The predators of the forest had undoubtedly sensed his weakened state and would soon come after him. If not this night, then surely the next.

He stopped as he came to the last trees before exiting on the fields ahead. The trail of bodies continued like blue petals thrown carelessly here and there. The smell of fear

was stronger here. A lot stronger. Had Dhani caused this? A part of him said no. How could she? But another part of him, the 'new' him said yes and very firmly so.

'She is the cause and effect of this.' that part of him said in his mind. 'The monkey is the reason the Hydrans lay slain here'

'Okay. That was freaky' he decided a mere second later. 'And I really don't give a flying monkey's shaved ass if she is...'

The voice fell silent. The surprises seemed to come by the dozen and now his mind had tossed him another one. A new voice to keep him company. It was sure getting crowded. The moon was rising slowly in the east. Soon his vision would be as efficient as a one legged man in an ass-kicking contest – doable, but hardly useful. His line of thought trailed off as his eyes painted the image they picked up.

"Holy mother of all Gods…" he whispered. Those were strong words coming from a man who didn't believe in any God.

Ahead of him lay the fields leading down to the Capitol of Ki'Baratan. He could see the fires in its midst. He could see the work which the hand of Hydran artillery had made. It

looked like a tiny model that had been destroyed by a temperament child.

In daylight during full bloom this was bound to be a beautiful place he observed. But it was not full bloom, nor was in daylight. Hydran bodies lay there. Not one. Not ten. Fifty? A hundred? He didn't know.

They lay like a corn-circle, strewn outwards from a center. He didn't need to check the bodies. They would be as unharmed as the others. If they hadn't been then the smell

of blood would have reached him long ago.

Then the drums in his mind began again. 'No... Not now... Not now…' he pleaded with his mind but to no avail.

Dum Dum... dum dum.. dum dum...

Blood rushing in and out of a heart.

Dum dum... dum dum.. dum dum...

The beatings were calm. Almost asleep.

Dum dum... dum dum.. dum dum..,

The pain vanished from Baile's body. The fatigue a memory so distant that it might as well have been a creation of his imagination.

Dum dum... dum dum.. dum dum...

"No… Fuck it... Not now..."

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Sixteen

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

His instincts had awoken. He started moving, nothing but a faint whisper on the field of the dead. The distance between him and the figure sitting calmly in the eye of the storm hadn't noticed him yet. He knew where he would hit her. God help him but so, he did and she would die instantly.

He came towards her, a soulless killer from worlds unknown. He was a backseat driver now. The instincts had taken over. The human was locked up in a dark tower, helplessly bashing on the doors with his naked hands.

He screamed inside of his mind, howling like the caged animal he was. He would not be caged. He would not be controlled. He was the master of his own damned fate!

The doors opened and Baile found himself in control again but only for a few seconds. He didn't waste any time. As he passed a dead Hydran he snatched the knife it had in a belt. Without additional ceremony he tossed the sheath aside and did the only thing he knew would stop him for the time being.

He plunged the knife deep into the injured backside of one of his thighs. The pain was... let's just say it hurt and leave it at that. He opened his mouth and howled in pain and

rage. The rage burned fiercely inside of him, but that was a rage he knew. His human rage. "Wake the fuck up Barbara..." he barked through clenched teeth.

From across the divide that separated them, littered with corpses, their energy spilling out across the shadowed grass that flowed in unison with the rising of the wind, she sat, motionless, as she gathered the spilt energy and brought it into herself.

Those dark pools of ebony glittered in the light of Remus as they looked up towards it. Her dark jet black hair flowed freely around her face, long since worked itself loose from the French twist she had placed it in hours before, perhaps even days before. Time for Dhanishta had lost its meaning once she had crashed on this forsaken planet with Steven Jonas. Each day had merged into the next, without being able to see the rising or the setting of the sun; it had become one lengthy journey into the darkness.

Yet for the being within Dhani, the one that was now fully in control, time was precious. For decades she had been locked within the mind of the engineer, always a part of her yet without the means to speak for her, or to think for her, or to act as she chose. For years logic had dictated the mind of Dhanishta and only when her boundaries were broken by Ethan Suder did she finally *feel* that part of her that had been locked up inside. For three long years now she had tried to break out, yet to no avail. Time only gave her minutes of freedom from her confinement, yet circumstance gave her nothing to feed on. How could these two entities expect her to survive if they starved her?

So here she sat, amidst the carnage wrought from her own hands, so to speak, hungrily, greedily mopping up the energy to further increase and enhance her own. She did not know how many lay at her feet, she had never really kept a tally, just their faces and their feelings from the last moments before they died, savoring them, taking them deep within her as a treasured token. Like a photo album she added more and more clips; more souls for the epic. For neither time or death could take those memories. They would be passed down thought out the bloodline; such was the punishment for her sins.

Finally she arose from the dampness of the dew covered grass; having felt him long before he arrived, even though he did not think that was possible. She knew what he was, even if he did not. And this part of the engineer knew exactly what she was, even if the other half did not.

Indeed this was something new that stood before Baile. Like him she commanded nature, yet unlike him she was one with it also. She was the dark face of the goddess. The one that walked in the shadows; that smiled in the face of death, took joy in the darkness and the suffering of others. She held that fear, that torment and suffering in her heart and bestowed it as a gift to any she saw fit. She did not care who she took, or what kind of pain they were in when she did.

She was not sanctioned by anyone, just herself. She was given the abilities by God was she not? And if he hadn't intended her to use them, then he wouldn't have given her the power.

She did not work on behalf of nature like Victor, nor was she created for a purpose like Baile, she was purely and simply, a cold hearted murderer.

The expression that crossed the face of the engineer was not her own. It was an expression from within. The spots that lined Dhanishtas face seemed to fade as the thing within her looked out through those stolen eyes.

Calmly she crossed the divide between them so graceful in her movements it appeared that she was floating over the carnage, the 'moon' as her back drop; its light flowing over the dead Hydran illuminating their blue features with its soft silvery light.

The body of Dhanishta Eshe came to a halt just a meter before the marine. Those black eyes of hers rested upon his form; saw through him and into his very heart. For she knew where it lay within his chest, she could feel the blood pumping through his veins; hear it as loudly as he heard the drums. The desire to just reach out and take it from him and end his suffering was overwhelming.

"Show me the proper respect and kneel before me." she demanded in a dark voice laced with contempt and repressed rage, "Were you taught nothing of how to address Royalty?" she spat the question out, her eyes narrowing to slits.

The Marine watched the body of the engineer hover towards him. He really hated Romulus now. Couldn't someone just blow it up? Right now? Then she spoke to him and now Baile was getting really irritated. "Kneel? Why don't you wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first before that happens... Lady..." he said and it was not in a positive way. "I don't give a flying fuck who or what you are… You can either back the fuck down and let Miss Perky back in control or you can take your chances right here, right now… It's the same to me." he told her flatly. He hadn't quite figured out how that would happen but had a hunch he'd figure it out should the need arise.

She didn't even raise her hand to him. Just manipulated the energy that he was, and watched in satisfaction as his form lowered before her. The lash that followed to sting his already bruised and battered face could not have been predicated, even by him, with all of his skills. He could not see what did not happen. Yet the pain smarted through his face. Though it wouldn't last, for nothing could hurt Baile for long…

She towered over him now, those dark eyes aflame, they bore into him, much like his did to her. "I have met you before." she stated simply, "you have grown since. Changed much. I would say it is a shame, for because of it, you must join your ghost. Yet that would imply that I care. And I don't." her voice was soft, like silk it flowed out into the night to mingle with the scents that wafted on the breeze. A soft smile danced on those stolen lips for a fleeting moment.

The words spoken by... whoever it was... triggered a fairly standard reaction in Baile. He lashed out, his fingers already seeking the spot just to her left side of her torso that would cause her heart to stop. Not that he knew that from studies. It was just something he knew. Strike there and she dies. He had no idea why it would kill her. Just that it would.

Or rather. He tried to lash out.

But he was held firmly in place by something and he didn't like it. It took him so much by surprise that he forgot to push back the instincts he now carried inside of him. It was really all that was needed. His muscles tensed and struggled against the invisible bonds to the full extent of his strength. Had he been able to feel pain then he would have felt how several muscles started pulling themselves to such a degree they started breaking. The fibers stretching to there very limit. His eyes didn't go dark like Dhani's had done. How could they? He didn't even remember what human vision looked and felt like. Inside the fires flared up but not to the chaotic turmoil he had expected. It focused until it burned inside of him like a needle carrying the heat of the sun on the very tip.

It was not Baile and yet it was. He had never been more like himself than he was now. Nor had he ever been less like he was now. "You best kill me now..." was all he said. No more words were needed. She either killed him now or he would do the same to her no matter where she went. No matter how far away she ran he would find and kill her.

The smile that flowed over the face of the engineer disappeared quickly; set with resolve she fulfilled his request. Striking out with the power of her mind, just like she had done so many times before, she took his heart within her thoughts and began to suppress the energy contained there. Slowly the beating of his heart began to slow. He struggled against it, struggled to keep conscious. His body began to fall limp in the invisible web she held him in, and for a moment that pleasure began to coil inside her. That feeling of euphoria from taking a life and watching it mingle with her own, adding its strength to hers, increasing her powers.

As the transition began, his energy fading from him, the dark furious blue that he was coiled and crackled in the dark sky, and she could feel it begin to merge with hers, for it had no place else to go. She felt the warmth within her as it bathed her in its light and heat.

The Marine frowned as he realized he had begun to die. He was sure there was pain involved but he couldn't feel it. Curse the devils who turned him into what he was and what he was becoming. But there was one thing he could do and so he did it. "Dhanishta... you better get back behind the wheel or else someone will die..." his voice was strained but angry.

The plea from him awoke the engineer within, the one who had seemingly fallen asleep against the window of the passenger side door. She trembled slightly with the chill, that same chill that sweeps through your body when you awake after falling asleep on the transport shuttle. Her eyes stung, or at least she imagined they did. She felt tired and slow, as if she had been asleep for hours and still needed more.

The fear she had felt, the things she had seen, they were distant from her now. Everything was. All in soft focus. Slowly, groggily she peered out around her, everything was indeed out of reach; her hands, her legs, her feet. They were all there and she could feel them, yet not move them… panic would have set in if only she had the strength to entertain it. Fear would have gripped her, if only she wasn't already numb from it. Sleep would have taken her and let the thing within her reign, if only she didn't see it.

The frosted window beside her glittered with beads of condensation, reflected the lights from beyond, it reminded her briefly of a child's haphazard finger painting. The drops of moisture rolled down the window, splashing to the unseen somewhere below.

Curious, she leaned forward in the chair, having not realized yet that she was not in a chair. Nor was she on a transport shuttle.

Outside the window the lights danced like a laser light show. It was beautiful to watch, the streams of colour lanced about all over the place, dark blues fused with electric purples. They jumped and danced and quivered, like ribbons they graced the darkness with their fluidity of motion.

As she watched on she began to feel the rise in warmth. No longer did she tremble against the chill of wherever it is that she was. Staring out something began to come clear in her mind, something she hadn't let herself pay much attention to before. She had seen this before…

She had been sat here before. She had been cut off, removed, shoved aside within her own mind *before*. She frowned, trying to grasp on to that thought for long enough to understand it.

The Dithparu.

Her eyes opened wide and she lurched forward. Realizing only now what was happening beyond that pane of glass. Uncertain and unsure, not really knowing how to, yet understanding she must; she smashed the window and watched as the shards flew about refracting the light and the blood that they penetrated.

Lt. Gwen Parri, ACC, USS Miranda (currently aboard the Exeter)
Ensign T'Jaden "TJ" Tagra, Engineering Officer, USS Miranda

Deck 39, Main Engineering

TJ was monitoring the fleet progress along with the Miranda's upgraded shields. He noticed that a couple ships had thier shields fail and was going over the data. Apparently no matter how well you design something, it still can fail...as evident by the few blown consoles and power relays being reported.

He silently kicked himself for not being able to shunt power more efficently, though logically understood why it wasn't perfect. New technology, or a new appliations, still had to have 'bugs' worked out.

Just like his and Jacen's relationship.

That thought sent him back to the start of this damned mission.

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

USS Miranda, en route to DS5
Deck 20, Cantina

Gwen was sitting in one of the lounges leafing through a magazine, and she spotted a familiar face walk in. One of her patients whom she hadn't seen for quite a while already. So she gave him a friendly wave which said she was free to talk if he wanted to. But which he could ignore as well.

T'Jaden noticed Lt. Parri's wave and returned it. It was nice to see her, he'd been meaning to make an appointment, but things just took his attention from that task. He ordered some Bajoran Voodai and moved over to where she was sitting, "Mind if I join you Gwen? I don't want to be intrusive."

"No, not at all, TJ," she said with a grin. "I wanted to catch up with you anyways. That is of course if you don't mind. I am not exactly working right now."

"No, I don't mind," TJ said as he seated himself across from her, "I was wanting to meet with you anyway, but things have taken my attention lately. Good things to be sure. You know how life can get in the way." He smiled at that. Life has its way of making sure one never gets too complacent with their current set of circumstances.

"I certainly know." Gwen said. "So how is your life now?" She asked looking at him.

TJ just smiled as he responded, "Honestly, it's great." He took a drink of his Voodai before continuing, "Me and Jacen got back together after the whole Borg deal back in the Delta Quadrant. Things haven't been top notch, but they haven't been bad either. I guess it's like that when a couple gets back on their feet, especially given our circumstances."

He was thoughtful for a second, "Work has been really good. I'm working on a project and it's at the working model stage, although it needs a lot of work, as the first simulation showed," he shrugged and had a small smile, "My family surprised us when we got back to Atlantis. It was nice to see them. Nikolas and Jacen got somethings worked out after I gave Niko a piece of my mind on the subject. After they left, Linkasa showed up for about 6 hours to see me and I've been taking care of a medical issue that came up literally just after I last saw you." He smiled at her after the lengthy explanation. He knew she didn't mind, it was her job to listen and help guide people. He realized that he had to the work he was expecting her to do. It was a cathartic moment for him at the time.

"So I guess you patched things up with your boyfriend?" She smiled.

"More or less. I know things will pop up because of what happened, but we'll deal with them when the time comes,". He weighed an option and took the easier one, "Also, just so you know, I have a...unique problem to talk to you about. I don't know if you'll understand, no offense. I just need someone other than Jacen for this. I may even need a Vedek."

She was intrigued by this. "Sure, you can ask me anything, and I will try to help."

"Well, first I have to explain something," he said with less enthusiasm than he just had a few minutes ago. "I have a genetic 'disorder'. It causes me to go into very severe caesuras, although it only happens once every few years or more. Usually I don't remember anything that happens, but this time I did."

He noticed her surprise, "The caesuras aren't damaging, provided I get a hypo-treatment in time. When this happens, I can hallucinate but I usually don't remember if it happens. This time I did." He took a healthy drink before continuing, "The part that bothers me is that I think I was in the Celestial Temple ."

"Hold on," Gwen said. There are so many things she wanted to ask that she didn't know where to start. She decided to take the counseling angle first. "Can you describe it for me, the hallucination?"

TJ thought about where to start, but figured that she should know just the part mentioned, "I was surrounded by a white light. I looked around, but nothing but white light." He caught himself getting nervous and gulped down his Voodai. He calmed himself before going further, "I called out and nothing at first. Then I heard my mother behind me, but not her at the same time. She said 'You are of Bajor'. That's when I faced her, but the look wasn't her. Before I could ask anything, I hear Jacen behind me saying the same thing. I got the same result when I looked at him."

He stopped a waiter and ordered some Japanese Green Tea, "Forgive me, but synthahol just won't do tonight, I think." Flashes of the other part went through his mind. Memories of the Indy Mission still burned fresh in his mind; their pain had yet to disappear. He tried to hide the uneasiness, having not talked about what happened in public. He took a deep breath and continued, "I asked if they where Prophets and all I got was that I was 'Of Bajor and Another'. I told them I followed their teachings and they replied with 'You should not be here'. Next thing I know, I'm waking up on the floor of my quarters."

His drink finally came and he took a sip before finishing, "Gwen , I just don't know. I want to take it on faith, but part of me is yelling 'No you fool, don't believe it."

"What do you think it means?" She was watching him intently.

He rubbed his hands together and fell back to looking at the floor, "At first I thought that I somehow went to the Celestial Temple and was sent back because I wasn't invited." He looked out over the crowd, "As to what it means, I wish I knew. The Prophets speak in riddles at best. This time they seemed so direct. I guess that's what got me full of doubt."

"Are you religious?" was her next question.

"Oh no, I'm spiritual. I find that a religious person scares me, too rigid and inflexible in their beliefs. A spiritual person is like water or sand, meaning that they can move with the changing currents. Much more flexible and open to different interpretations of their God or Gods."

Gwen nodded, that she could understand. She was more or less an atheist herself. "Did it strike you are strange, that especially you got such a very religious hallucination?"

"Not really," he replied, almost without much though to his answer, which surprised him, "Unlike a vast majority, Bajorans have a real relationship with their Gods. They *are* there, no question. They no longer have to be taken simply on faith thanks to the Emissary." He was smiling, apparently filled with joy about simply talking of the Prophets. "That type of knowledge is so filling, that I want to burst at times. It seems that other Bajorans or believers in the Prophets and Jacen get that." He shrugged, and still smiling, while he finished off the first cup of tea, quickly refilling it.

"I believe you." She said with a smile. "So what next? Do you want to act on this?"

TJ nibbled on his lower lip for a second, "Yes and no." He rubbed his face, covering his mouth when he was done and just looked at her. He wasn't sure how to elaborate further, if he even should for that matter. But, he knew she'd want him to, hell, he needed to. Probably why he wanted to talk to her in the first place. He finally dropped his hands to his lap, "Yes, because I'd like to see a Vedek. I think one would be able to guide me towards a deeper understanding of what may have happened. And no, because I'm honestly afraid of what I might find."

"To be totally honest here Gwen , I haven't even brought this up with Jacen," he said while looking at her sheepishly. One probably didn't have to be a councilor to see his shame.

"Why not?"

He scratched the back of his head before answering, "He never asked and I never volunteered the information. I know I should have, but I didn't this time. And seeing how well he relates and works with his God and Goddess, I know he'd understand without question. Hell, you're the only person who knows...you and the Green Tea." He lifted the glass and nodded towards her, trying to hide a smile.

"Do you want to explore that further, the reason why you didn't tell him?" Gwen asked gently. "I can see that it bothers you."

That put T'Jaden in a corner. The infamous fight or flight response was trying to take hold, but he actively resisted. And for a brief second, he swore Gwen noticed. Damned therapists, they never miss a thing.

He finally decided to answer before she would have to ask again, "I'm not sure I want to. Gwen, I know deep down that Jacen will understand and be supportive. It's not like this happens every time I have an 'attack'. But with everything finally getting back on track, I don't want this to get between us." He paused, only just realizing what he said. The look of surprise was not missed by Gwen, which he was certain of. This was going to get interesting.

"And why would you think this would get between you?" Gwen almost felt sorry to be needling him like this and they were not even in her office. But they both knew he could walk away any moment he wanted to.

TJ thought about that and couldn't come up with an answer. 'This self-examination stuff could be such a road block at times', he thought sarcastically. Finally, "I don't know. After everything, I guess I'm afraid of losing him again. The last time nearly killed me, just ask D'Bari." He looked at her with eyes filled with a call for help, "Why, by the Prophets, would I be so afraid of losing him over this. If anything, he'd be happy and proud of me."

Gwen gently lay a hand on his. "Maybe this fear of losing him is in your way now. And I know that is not what you want to hear, I know you are afraid," she told him softly.

"Your right, I don't want to hear it," he said, although in a more direct manner than he wanted. He just sighed, "Sorry. I guess everything over the last six months has changed me. I was never so scared of 'what if's'."

"It started after the fight you guys had? Have you stopped really talking to each other?"

"I don't think so." He thought back to when he and Jacen got back together, and came to the conclusion that they really hadn't talked. Guess that was the end of the Second Honeymoon. "OK, maybe. The fear anyway. As for talking, it hasn't happened. We just got into the mode of bliss from being back together. Maybe we should have gone to couples' therapy. But you can't change the past...well you can, but that's another set of problems."

She smiled. "It is never too late to start talking. Communication is the basis of every relationship." Gwen watched him.

TJ thought about that, and the ultimate truth to it. "Your right, and I understand that fundamentally. Its just my emotions won't let me adhere to it," he finally said. He looked at her, "Have I told you I blame myself for all this. From the seed that caused his explosion to our current situation." He never broke his eye contact with her.

"Yes." She did not break eye contact either, "But I am not the one you should really be telling this."

He rubbed his face for a quick second before responding, "I know. But I think I'd rather date a Cardassian or tell my mother that I'm same-gendered oriented again. Those two things would probably be easier than talking to Jacen." He snickered to himself about that, but really didn't find any humor in it.

"I still find that strange. He is your partner, which means you guys should be able to share almost anything together. What is exactly that keeps you back?"

TJ knew the answer without any hesitation to think about it, "Fear of losing him. Permanent this time." He leaned forward before going further, "It seems that the Prophets won't let us get beyond what the Indy brought back...either that or I won't."

"Why do you think you would lose him if you talk to him?" Gwen really wished they were in a different setting now. This was pretty emotional for him.

"Because I honestly don't know with any certainty if he, or I, could handle it. There is a LOT of raw emotion right now and none of it has been dealt with reasonably." He leaned back and refilled his tea and took a sip, reflecting on everything and nothing at once. Jacen's face was all his mind's eye could see, all it wanted to see. Then a rouge thought, "Gwen , how did we get on this again?" His laugh was genuine this time, "I start off talking to you about a possible pagh-tem-far and fall back onto relationship issues." He looked down at his lap, a smile on his face, "I am my own worst enemy."

He looked back up and met her gaze, "I really can't get past that night can I?" He didn't even give her a chance to respond, "I wonder how many of the crew are as scared as I am from that mission. It's going to haunt this ship for a long time, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. But the good thing is that you are talking about it at least to me. And many others are talking to professionals. In the end it will make it easier, but it will take time." She looked at him, "Something else I would like you to consider is couples therapy."

He nodded his agreement with her suggestion, "Is that something you'd be interested in, or should we seek someone who hasn't interacted with us. I think Jacen would prefer his therapist over you and visa verse."

"I'm certainly be interested in helping you. We could also do it with two therapists present if that is better for both of you. Remember this is not about me, it's about what is best for you and Jacen." Gwen reminded him gently.

'What was that term Jacen uses...oh yeah, Hell Naw!' he thought with a mild grin. Two therapists! Either life would be exceedingly interesting, or TJ would run out the nearest airlock while the ship was at warp. Not that he didn't like Gwen , it was just the whole therapist thing that got in the way.

"Sounds...promising," he finally replied. He decided to take a different route, "So, back to the original reason we started going down this road of therapy, I'm thinking I should see a Vedak. And before you ask, I'll talk to Jacen. Both about this and the Indy induced fight we had." He knew she wouldn't let him stay off track for long, but it was worth the try.

She smiled, he was getting to know her very well. "I think that is a very good idea. He might even help you with couple's therapy, if it makes you more comfortable. They are trained to give therapy as well."

'Your good lady.' TJ couldn't resist the thought, but had enough sense to not speak it aloud. He finally replied after more thought on the subject, "True, but I don't know of any Vedek on the Miranda or Atlantis. And, to be truthful, I don't see the practicality of a sub-space conference call."

"In that case maybe during the next shore leave?"

"I was hoping to save up all my leave for a trip to Qo'nos next year, but I doubt a few days on Bajor would hurt," he replied as a server stopped to check on things. That's when T'Jaden got an infamous twinkle in his eye. He pulled the server close and whispered into her ear. She smiled and walked off, "How about a nice surprise."

Gwen lifted an eyebrow, and since this was not an official session she didn't mind. "Sure."

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

Deck 39, present

The jarring shook TJ out of his flashback. They where heading towards the T'Kith'Kin ships, 'Trust those in command. Trust those in command,' he kept repeating.

He eyed the Exeter, hoping Gwen was safe. She had a way of growing on him. He silently hoped that after all this was over, and they where both alive, that a friendship could happen once TJ was out of her care.

Time will tell.

Lt. Gwen Parri, ACC
Ensign T'Jaden "TJ" Tagra, Engineering Officer

Deck 39, Main Engineering

Time will tell.

A Terran saying that echoed in his mind evers since that night in the Cantina. TJ glanced at the Exeter one more time. That night went more informal than he anticipated, or hoped. But he believed it lifted part of the irk he carried about therapists.

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

USS Miranda, en route to DS5
Deck 20, Cantina

Gwen lifted an eyebrow, and since this was not an official session she didn't mind. "Sure."

"Good," TJ replied as the server returned, wearing the same smirk he was. She set the glasses down in front of them both. They where tall and elegant, containing a bluish liquid. He grabbed one and motioned for her to take the other, "This is Bajoran Springwime , synthahol version." He clinked his glass to hers, "To new paths. And new friends." He began to drink it, then stopped, "Take it slow. The taste is worth more than its colour." He winked playfully before he started enjoying his selection.

Gwendolyn took a small sip, and then let it slowly work its way down her throat. "That's heaven," she said savoring it. "I must really look more into Bajoran tastes."

TJ smiled broadly, "Springwine is all it takes, but you should try the non-synthahol version. Its sweeter, but not too much. Also, try some hasperat with a bowl of Alvas and a full, slightly chilled glass of deka tea, nothing will make your palate sing as that combination will."

He eyed her for a second, noting how much she enjoyed the wine, 'I'll have to have Ha'Dara send me a crate of the real thing as a thanks to her', he thought to himself. "I don't know how you do it Gwen , but you manage to put me at ease every time I see you. I can't begin to know how to thank you."

"Hey, no need." She said warmly, "It"s my job. I have been trained to help you with your problems. But I am very glad that I seem to be able to do just that."

"Believe me Gwen, I take what I can get at this point."

He thought for a second, making a choice about how the rest of his evening would go. He decided that it was time to explore possibilities that the Prophets threw at him, even if they may turn out to be dead ends, "Gwen, would you be interested in dropping this whole line of therapy in public and have a Bajoran dinner with me? You seem to take to it well, and why pass by this opportunity. Besides, I don't think our respective partners would mind."

"Definitely." She grinned, "I would love to get to know new cultures. And I am sure our partners don't mind. Mine is not the jealous type anyway most of the time. Come on, let's go and find a nice spot!"

He followed her over to an empty table with a really good view of the Cantina and the windows. He set down his tea and motioned for her to follow him to the nearest replicator. He then did his best French accent, "And what would Madam enjoy for her meal this evening?"

She exploded into laughter, but he continued, "Might I suggest the Hasperat Souffle with a side dish of foraiga and some koganka pudding for dessert. Yet with these marvels of technology, Bajoran delicacies are avalible to you as much as you desire." He patted the replicator for extra emphasis.

"Why don't you try it in French. Did I mentioned that I am one-quarter French on my mother's side?" She was really enjoying herself. "I think I want to try a little bit of everything."

"I don't speak French, unfortunately. As for trying everything, you might want to pace yourself, Bajoran foods are filling," he replied, chuckling a bit. He then scrolled through some selections, then remembered what Jacen always said about introducing people to new foods, "Um, any allergies or preferences? I warn you, Hasperat is spicy, if your not into spicy foods."

"I have everything under control. Medication," she said. "So there should not be a problem, and I like to try spicy. Hell I will try anything food-wise."

"Good, because I have loads to share with you then. Between Mother and Jacen, I think I've sampled food from every planet and culture known to the Federation," he replied. "Also, if your adventurous, try mixing it up. I love to have Hasperat with some Klavaatu and a slice of Rokeg blood pie for dessert with Andorian Ale to drink."

He noticed her uneasiness at the idea, "Don't worry. It's not as bad on the stomach as you might think. But for tonight, we'll keep it Bajoran." She seemed relieved. "How about what I suggested earlier? Hasperat with a bowl of Alvas and some Deka tea? Oh, some Tuwaly pie for dessert would round it out nicely."

"It sounds lovely." She smiled at him.

He smiled and nodded his response. He ordered the dinner for her, quite detailed in how it was to be prepared. He handed her the tray and ordered himself some Moba fruit; a small plate of Kava root, fruit and nuts; a sampling of Klavaatu; a small serving of Konganka pudding and a glass of Deka tea.

At the table he saw that Gwen was really into her food, "Take it slow. Remember, Bajoran food is filling, even the replicated stuff. And as with the Springwine, the taste is worth more than the attractiveness of the presentation."

"I was hungry," she admitted. "And when I am hungry I can eat a great deal." She assured him, but took things a little slower.

"No worries. I just want to make sure you don't get an upset stomach," he replied before digging into the Klavaatu. "So, what do you think of the Hasperat?"

"Love it," she said with her mouth fully. "Sowwwy," Gwen giggled. "It's delicious."

He had to put down a slice of the Kave fruit and just let his head fall forward, laughing. It took a minute for him to recover, "Jacen had about the same reaction. Just don't have three servings of the style he did. I couldn't enter Sickbay on the Enterprise for about a month afterwords, so Prophets only know how our CMO would react." He winked playfully before having his Kava fruit.

"So what happened to him?" She asked curiously while she didn't stop eating.

"He believed he could handle the spiciest Hasperat I could make. I'll give him credit for having just three glasses of water with the first serving." He had some Deka tea before continuing. The memory of that night was a bit more funny now than it was then, thought he doubted that Dr. Crusher would ever see it that way, "He's the most stubborn person I know when he's got his mind on any goal. So, that night he believed he could eat several servings. Well, having that much spicy Hasperat, whether your Bajoran or not, will make you sick. Apparently the spices don't need a lot of time to start fermenting in your stomach."

She gave him a scared look, then look down at her food, "Don't worry Gwen, that version is mild. What Jacen had was a version I have had only once and one that I'm not to sure most Bajorans have had. The main spice used in that type of Hasperat is very potent and having three servings of it caused it to ferment and make him sick."

He thought hard for a second about the aftereffects, "I think he was in Sickbay for three days, knocked out while a medication did its job. And yes, he hasn't had that type of Hasperat since."

Gwendolyn looked like she didn't believe him. "What is in this stuff then? Because it tastes delicious."

He noticed her skeptic look, but didn't press the matter, "The brine is specially-prepared, that's where all the spices are. Everything else is standard Bajoran vegetables and wheat wrap."

"So, tell me about you. I figure you have an edge knowing me to the degree you do," he asked, trying to expand the conversational dynamic.

"I still don't understand the violent reaction he had."

"The spice is what did it. Sometimes a person just can't handle it. Hell, I wouldn't wish that experience on my worst enemy." He then eyed her, "And your avoiding my inquiry." He had a slight grin to show he was at least being friendly about it.

"All right." She laughed, "Yes I was avoiding the question about myself. It is frowned upon for a therapist to tell too much about herself to a patient."

"Understandable. But I'm not asking for your autobiographical dictation, just something about you that won't make you so...distant." He looked down at the table, "Sorry, that came out wrong. Its just that I guess I'd feel more comfortable around you if I at least knew enough about you so you wouldn't seem so two-dimensional." He dropped his fork and dropping his head into his hand, "OK, I can't get out what I'm trying to say without sounding like an ass."

"It's okay," Gwen said gently. "I guess I understand. Sometimes it is very difficult for me as well not being able to share much."

He finally made eye contact again, "Sorry. Really. My comfort level around therapists is low. It just feels so...uncivilized to talk to a stranger about yourself without knowing a bit about them. I guess it's a kind of common ground feeling." He shrugged and sighed, "To be honest, I'd trust you more and in all likelihood, open up more. I can tell your looking for that when we meet." She eyed him, "Yes, I know I'm stubborn. Jacen or Mother never pass an opportunity to remind me of that."

She laughed, "So tell me what you want to know. You know already that I am in a relationship with a woman."

"Well, for starters, how long? Oh, and how did you two meet?" he asked, leaning forward, his head supported by his hand.

"It's been a while, I guess shortly after I came on-board. Since I also worked as a doctor during emergencies, we met at work. And liked each other straightaway." She smiled at the memory.

"I can tell you two love each other deeply. Have you gone through any ceremonies yet?" he asked, quickly remembering his.

Again a little smile. "Yes, we are now officially engaged in both our cultures. And as soon as possible we're going to marry, again two ceremonies. And we want children."

"Children? That's a big step, but a good and rewarding one, or so I'm told," he replied. "Jacen and I talked about that once, but to be honest, I'm not sure if we can."

"Hmmm, I know that problem. But I think it is genetically possible and legal to combine the DNA of parents of the same sex. That is what I was told by specialists and we are going for it."

"I really hope it works out for you. Let me know the whole legal side of it some time. I think Jacen would be more understanding of its jargon than I would," replied TJ. "So, what got you interested in psychology and medicine? Seems a big challenge, especially at Starfleet Medical."

She blushed. "I really don't think I should be telling you this."

"What? Couldn't be that bad. Just don't tell me you made a blood oath to a Klingon while they where on their death bed, because that is probably the one thing I wouldn't believe."

"All right. I wanted to prove to my mother that I could be better at it then she."

"You, competitive?" he asked, completely shocked. " Gwen, you don't seem the type!"

"You see." She said, "I should not have told you. I have grown to love my work very much, but at first it was just all about my mother. I was a stupid strong headed teenager." She was actually pretty much embarrassed now.

He noticed her blushing, "Well, if I may be so bold, that stupid strong headed teenager turned into a wonderful and mature woman who excels at her job. And I couldn't have asked for a better therapist." He saluted her with the remains of his Deka tea before finishing it.

"Thank you, it means a lot." She finished her meal. "And that's all the private information you are getting out of me today."

"Fair enough."

He ate the last of his pudding as he glanced at the nearest chronometer, "And even though I'd love to keep this conversation going, I've got to get outta here soon. Jacen is taking me out to the holodeck for a date. He's got a nice, lazy walk through ancient Rome planned. Should be fun." He started cleaning his mess before getting up and putting it in the replicator for recycling.

He came back, "My Lady, it has been a pleasure, but the night beckons me to other obligations." He tried his most horrid British accent to get at least one more laugh out of her...and it worked. "Walk the Path well. I'll see you soon," he said, normally this time, as he bowed respectively. He waved as he turned and headed out the door.

She watched him go, smiling. Gwendolyn really hoped he would work things out with his boyfriend, the man deserved a bit of happiness.

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

Deck 39, present

Oh, what Gwen would think about the very recent development in his and Jacen's relationship. Being bonded under Trill law was one thing, being Zhian'shee'tara Dor'vahla was quite another. To bad Bajorans, Terrans or Vulcans didn't have something similar, at least that he was familiar with.

But that night gave him an idea, be bold.

He was bold enough to open to her, and her to him. Maybe that boldness gave him the guts to take his crazy idea to Dawson, and look where that got him!

"Whadya say TJ, three for three?" he asked himself.

He texted K'aa:

Use the Deflector as a graviton 'plow' on the T'Kith'Kin ships. It might deflect some of the incoming fire while the Starbeast follows us. If they swoop in on us, they'll have to deal with the Starbeast also. IF the ship can be flipped and then hit the beast with the same graviton 'plow', or even a burst, it may stop it long enough to lash out at the T'Kith'Kin.

He hit the SEND button without any reservation. Hopefully his boldness will pay off one more time, because TJ wasn't planning on tempting fate again anytime soon.

Just as before, only time will tell.

"Unforgotten"
by
Praetor Hitan tr'Chandrix,
Head of Rihannsu Star Empire Government

"How dare you!" Praetor Hitan's eyes snapped open, his hand instinctively reaching out to deflect the unwarranted touch of one of his personal servants who'd dared drift close to his body while the latter had been quietly pouring a cup of steaming kava root tea for his obviously overtired leader.

The ceramic pot upended itself from the woman's hands, spilling hot liquid over her robes even as it shattered against the inlaid edge of the console table the aging Praetor had fallen asleep on. The tea cup's shattering on the floor at her feet was lost in the outburst.

"I am sorry, m'lord." She averted her eyes, pointing to a fixed spot on the floor as she bowed and moved away, daring not give away the pain she felt at her wrist where scolding tea had burned her.

Hitan, seeing an opening, grabbed her by the same arm, thriwing her arm back and up as he rose from his chair, and backslapped her with the other.

"Do not speak unless I command it, ghelik!" Still holding on to her arm as she fell back onto the balls of her feet, he bent her burning wrist backwards, satisfying himself when he saw her eyes streaking with tears and winces.

"Have you come to assassinate me, foul creature? I know you think you see weakness. Why wouldn't you?" He released her arm as he put a boot on her chest to shove her backwards. The Praetor's personal guards were waiting behind as they grabbed her arms, wrestling her to her feet. Hitan wrung his hands together, his own face contorted in disgust as he did so.

It'd been three weeks since they'd escaped the Rihannsu homeworld, trapped as they were inside the tiny vessel that housed the leader of the Senate and what remnants there were of the government.

Having exhausted their supplies of rations, Hitan had been turned away from world after world in seeking refuge and resupplies, some of the subjugated planets seeing an opportunity and actually firing on the ship as it had entered orbit issuing its regal demands! News of the Romulan defeat at the hands of the Hydran WarFleet had travelled far too quickly around the quadrant, and many were taking the opportunity that had been lost on them before to take revenge on those that had ground them into dust for far too long.

The IRV Llaiir Jorrah had been hunted constantly for at least most of the time they had been on the run. Hitan had already had a few of the survivors on the ship executed for insolence and traitorous cowardice when it had reached his ears that many had been openly discussing his weakened state and the option of surrendering him to one of the subject governments in exchange for escape into anonymity. No doubt they'd been transmitting their warp signature and locations to anyone that had any capability of capturing him and collecting on a quite significant sum of bounty.

And now another one had openly dared to make a move on him. He could trust no one on this ship. No one! Keeping the ... thoughts to himself lest his guards see weakness, he marched the single meter across the stark grey floor of his personal quarters - they'd already traded the priceless Tholian silk rug for a half-dozen antimatter injectors and influx of food staples - and ignited the latinum-cored taps sonic resonantors, unfolding his hands underneatht the emitters. Looking up into the mirror above the sink, he hardly recognized the being staring back at him. His eyes had sunken into their sockets, black rings peeking out from under the heavy cosmetics used to cover them from first glance-eyes. His hair had been matted and dishevelled against his scalp from where he had fallen asleep in his chair.

More lines had etched themselves into his haggard features, reminding him of the weapon Shinzon had Tal'Aura use on the Senate.

Where was Tal'Aura these days? Probably laughing at him, if still alive, which was all-too-likely. She'd left ch'Rihan not too long, to site unknown, being persona non grata on the homeworld. Hitan, the man who brought the Rihannsu to their knees and lost everything. Praetor of nothing but a stripped out Bird of Prey. Would he be the one to overshadow Tal'Aura's shame and allow her the opportunity to return to power? He balled his fists.

"Praetor?"

Hitan blinked away his reverie, brought back to the present. He had to remain strong in the presence of his subjects. It would not do to offer any of them the chance of putting an ihl-sen in his back. Releasing his balled grip, he shut off the emitter, and cast one last look at himself in the mirror before responding. He was caught off-guard by a fleeting image of something standing behind him. Something tri-pedaled.

Spinning on his heel to physically survey the location behind him where he saw the Hydran, there was nothing. Nothing but the guard holding the female, still with tears down her face, but resolute. The one who had called his title was standing to his left, one hand resting on the hilt of his blade at waist level. He hadn't heard him approach.

"Step back, Arrain." Hitan resisted the urge to cast his eyes to the hand and weapon it rested on. Without question, the guard nodded once, bending slightly at the waist as he stepped back a pair of steps. Keeping his eyes down, he followed up the motion with a question.

"How do you wish to dispose of the ghelik? I offer my blade for your blessing on the execution."

Hitan's eyes remained on the guard for all of three seconds, before looking to the woman still being held without a struggle in his arms. Snapping his fingers at the guard beside him, the two walked across the room to stand before the woman, whose dark, penetrating eyes met the Praetor's without fear. He held out his hand to the Arrain alongside, feeling the cold steel of the ihl-sen in his palm. Bringing it to the woman's face, he traced its edge along her cheek as he breathed heavy on her. It had been long since he had felt blood of his enemies flowing over his hands, and the hallucination of the Hydran where the woman stood was nothing but a sign, he knew.

"You are less than nothing, do you know that, ghelik? Killing you would hardly please me, for you have no value."

Without hesitation, "You can believe what you will, Hitan, but even as a ghelik, I know more freedom than you ever will. You command nothing but a ship full of assassins. Go ahead and kill me. One less person to lord over. It won't stop the others. Not like you have any loyal subjects left.

I'll at least finally be free of your archaic and out-dated attitude."

Hitan's eyes drew themselves into slits. "Tell me the names of the traitors to the Rihannsu Empire, and I will spare your life."

"The Empire?" She broke into a laugh, coughing as she did so. Hitan shifted back some; she hadn't been coughing before. "The Empire is gone, Hitan! You've destroyed it with your ineptitude! I'll say nothing to you, GHELIK!" He watched her jaw shift as she closed her mouth, convulsing.

"You are the traitor, Hitan, and I pronounce sentence on you. Death." She took a deep breath, but not before Hitan reached out to grab the guard alongside him by the collar and throw him in front as he jumped out of the way.

A purple mist came out of the woman's mouth as she stiffened, completely encompassing the guards face. Hitan rushed backwards to his table, activating the console that enabled the ventilation system to quarantine the invasive toxin. It was not surprising to Hitan then that no alarms sounded at the moment of foreign biological substances in the air. It must have been disabled in order for her to smuggle it in.

As the system geared up and began to swallow the substance, the faces of the three in close proximity became clear. No sounds emitted from their mouths, for their entire faces had become a mosaic stone.

Thalaron.

The three fell to the deck, their heads shattering in a fine mist.

Praetor Hitan was left alone with only an ihl-sen for protection. His focus fell to the only entrance to his quarters, and he waited for the others to come for him. If they even gave him the honor of seeing their faces before he was reclaimed.

"Break the Sword of Justice" -- pt. 3

(brevet) Captain Brian Elessidil, Commanding Officer
Lieutenant Saul Bental, Chief Tactical Officer
Lieutenant Gwen Parri, Acting Chief Medical Officer
Lieutenant John Barrett, Chief Engineer
Lieutenant J.G. Rico Gear, Asst. Chief Security Officer
Ensign David Walker, Chief Navigation Officer
Ensign Marcus Slayton, Asst. Chief Engineer
Ensign Bliss Hawkins, Tactical Officer
Ensign Lela Beral, OPS Officer

" Saul , fire at will."

The Dutchman's body tensed. In total synchronization, the Exeter rattled as its twin photon torpedo launchers spat a burst of lethal golden bolts at the enemy.

Saul gritted his teeth. If they were close enough to hit the enemy, the enemy was close enough to hit them.

"Come on...!"

It did not take long before the enemy answered. The ship shook three times in quick succession, as the fighters made their first attack.

"Minor damages in energy distribution. Shields holding." Exclaimed Lela , still silent until now.

Standing at the PD substation, Hawkins was busy interdicting Hydran fighters. But for every fighter she turned into glowing bits of debris, a new one took its place. Still, the evil little grin she wore was still on her face. "Phasers reserves at 87 percent...."

Marcus ' fingers quickly flew over the controls as he fought to keep the ship's energy distribution at a controllable rate. "Compensating, experiencing minor FIP fluctuations across the life support for deck seven, sections twenty one alpha through thirty two gamma, sections have been re-routed and you'll have no more problems!!" Marcus shouted over the din of combat.

"Transferring energy from long-range sensors to phasers. I think we won't need them for some time." Said Lela , while tapping commands on her console.

"Works for me...." murmured Hawkins , stabbing one control to turn one unruly Hydran fighter into sparkly bits.

"Tie us in with adjacent ships' sensor array - we can't afford to be totally near sighted," Bental's voice followed Hawkins', broken by quick inhales.

Brian was silently alarmed at the speed at which the Hydran fighters kept coming, despite the fact that they'd managed to hit at least one of the ships' fighter bays. The scene was already looking ominously like the Exeter 's first encounter with the Hydrans.

* * *

It had started out quietly enough in sickbay. At first just some walking wounded, mostly broken bones, people who had been thrown against bulkheads by the sudden movements of the ship. The well oiled machine sprang into action at once, and patients were seen too quickly, and moved out back into duty as quickly. But then things started picking up, and as the ship got to hit more often, the injuries became worse. And so did the cries from several departments to send medics. Gwen could see her Yeoman starting to sweat as he tried to deal with all the requests with a dwindling availability of qualified medical personnel.

"Keep prioritising." She whispered to him. "You are doing well." It was an advantage that she was a triage doctor and not a surgeon. She was out there on the floor keeping an eye on everything. They were coping, for now.

* * *

Rico sat quietly as the ship rocked around him. It had been quite soothing until the bigger munitions hit. A couple of times he was shifted from his seat and had to readjust, it annoyed him to no end.

He looked back at Saul who was pensive. "You reckon they know we're here yet?"

No sooner had the words left the lieutenant's mouth when the entire ship shuddered as if it had been hit by a small asteroid.

"What the hell was that?!" Elessidil asked, turning toward Lieutenant Bental.

Saul shook away the line of thought that was occupying his mind, and cursed himself for losing his attention. Combat required focus, focus, focus. The lights flashing on the Tactical arch seemed to mock him for letting that one moment slip.

"Something penetrated our shields... wait..."

Saul quickly re-ran the sensor reads on his console. Something slipped automated detection - they enlarged the boundaries of the foreign object detection, since the battlefield was expected to have too many objects as it was - and so whatever it was reached the shields without getting hit by Hawkins who was concentrated on the fighters.

The computer quickly calculated the object's trajectory vector. Saul's grimace deepened.

"A small object was launched from Hydran escort beit four, and penetrated our shields! There seems..." No, that didn't make much sense, "... to be some sort of cord extending from the escort to the object. Object is right outside cargo bay three."

Saul muttered a curse in Hebrew. Yes, that probably answered Rico's question. The bloody Hydrans knew exactly where they were.

A chill went down Brian 's spine as the image of a small army of invading Hydrans flashed through his mind.

"Ensign Beral, erect force field barriers in every corridor on every deck anywhere near that bay. Lieutenant Gear, get a security detail down there now. If they can get through our shields there's no reason to think they can't get through a few force fields."

After few moments, Lela reports: "Forcefields at place, sir"

Before Elessidil could issue another order, Lieutenant Mullen 's voice cut through the din.

"Hawkins , I don't care if you have to go out on the hull with hand phasers, get that thing off my ship!"

Immediately, Brian 's head whipped around. *His* ship? But again, Brian held his tongue. The bridge was no place for the Captain and First Officer to have a confrontation. Finding Ensign Hawkins '

questioning eyes, he gave a quick nod of confirmation. "Do whatever you have to do."

Another person swiveled sharply toward the executive officer. Saul Bental narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. By addressing Hawking, Mullen overrode both the Captain AND the Chief Tactical Officer.

Hawkins's green eyes sparked with focus.

"Aye sir!"

The young ensign began to furiously tap controls at the tactical station. The Hydran was leeched onto the ship near the rear. Looking at the three dimensional schematics of the Exeter, she noticed an emergency system that could be very handy. "Engineering, this is Tactical. I need to vent drive plasma out of Emergency conduit Lamba Six. We've got a mosquito on our ass we need to swat. You got fifteen seconds to prepare before I start spraying insecticide."

"Sickbay," Captian Elessidil segued in the mean time, "get prepared for more casualties."

"We are ready Captain." Came Gwen 's voice. "Any indication of what kind of casualties to expect?" She hated not knowing what was going on.

A sick feeling of anger and frustration came over the Betazoid. Was it because of the Hydrans? Or Mullen? Or maybe it was aimed at himself as he again wondered if he really should have been put in command. He decided it didn't matter, that it was all of that and maybe even more but he didn't have the luxury of being able to be his own counselor at the moment.

As the thoughts and emotions swirled, Brian pulled them all deeper inside himself so he could answer Lieutenant Parri 's question:

"We have unwelcome visitors."

“Ensign Eve, I Presume?”

Valentina Dmitrieva Kyznetsov
Previously known as Ensign Eve
Julia Mana, Counselor (NPC by Lori C.)

*****Ensign Eve's Quarters, USS Galaxy*****

Things have calmed down on the USS Galaxy after the nasty battle. Julia had come to work expecting to be given plenty of new patients. She walked in, was given her schedule and raised an eyebrow seeing the first on the list.

[Go to Ensign Eve's quarters. She is suspected to have amnesia. She is calling herself "Valentina." Assess her condition and report to Chief of Medical and Chief of Counseling.] Julia looking longingly at the replicator.

The message had a side note that Eve had been in her quarters since before the battle, so Julia couldn't enjoy her bagel and coffee without feeling guilty. Her breakfast would have to wait as she made her way out. After a walk, she stood and pressed the button to have the occupant hear a beep.

The chime bleeped within the quarters the computer listed as belonging to one Ensign Eve. The current occupant, however, didn't know what that chime was. Nara hadn't said anything about a noise, it was like a strange cross between a flute, wind chimes, and something else she couldn't describe. When it happened two more times she finally called out "Who's there?" It was really strange - the noises, this place. The bed was comfortable, where she was currently curled up, blanket pulled around her for comfort and security.

It was about time! Julia called out, "Ensign Julia Mana. I'm the counselor they sent to speak with you. May I enter?"

Counselor. Nara said they'd send one once everything had calmed down, and there certainly weren't any more bumps, shakes, explosions, bangs, or anything else she could associate with trouble. There hadn't been for a long time. "Come in," Tina replied after a short pause.

Julia pressed the button, but the beep for notifying it being locked came to her ears. "It's locked. You have to open the door from in there." Julia looked at the PADD again as she waited. "Wait. Never mind!" She found a protected part of the first assignment note, typed in her security code (as low as it was) and was given the code a Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell used to lock the door. She typed this code in and the door opened. Julia looked about the still dim room.

The doors swished open, bright light streaming in from the hall outside, silhouetting the woman at the door. Tina sat up on the bed, the blanket still wrapped around her as she blinked for a moment, her eyes readjusting to the difference in lighting with a surprising quickness.

Julia stepped in, letting the door close and asked softly, "Do you prefer the darkness?"

Tina nodded. "A little. Nara had to go, so she couldn't show me much."

Julia nodded, "Mind if I bring it up a bit?"

"If you want to," Tina replied. Truth be told she wouldn't mind it being a bit brighter, if only so she could see who she was talking to.

"Computer, increase illumination 20%." As the room grew brighter, Julia smiled. "How's that?"

Tina merely nodded, confusion evident on her face. What was "computer?"

Though she didn't understand the other words, the translation that came through indicated that the light was going to be brighter.

"May I sit?"

Again Tina nodded, not sure of how to respond to all of these questions.

They acted as if she was someone else, which was completely preposterous!

Julia pulled up a chair and sat, "They say you call yourself Valentina and have amnesia. What is the last thing you remember?"

And there they went again. At least this was something more than pleasantries and politeness. "My name is Valentina Dmitrieva Kyznetsov. The last thing I remember before waking up wherever here is was going to sleep at home."

Julia went over her words a few times before understanding. "You didn't go to sleep here?"

Tina shook her head. "I've never seen anything like any of this; magic and monsters that shouldn't exist."

Julia blinked. She bit her lip as she realized the severity of it.

"Valentina, what year is this?"

"1752 Ano Domini," came the response, quite confidently in fact. "Don't you keep track of time here?"

Julia kept her face as neutral as possible. "Yes. As a matter of fact, we do. I'm afraid I have to inform you it is not 1752 anymore. It is quite further in the future."

That only served to confuse Tina more. She'd heard of people who'd gone to sleep but never woke up again. They didn't die, but didn't wake up, either.

Since you couldn't make them eat they would starve to death, so that couldn't have happened to her.

"That you haven't aged is amazing. I have a feeling there are many mysteries we'll have to pick at. In the meantime, I suppose it may be a shock to you to know you are currently on a spaceship far from Earth." It seemed something cruel to just pop that out, but there was really no gentle way to put it and better than her finding out by looking out a window.

Tina cocked her head to the side, not understanding. "What kind of ship?"

she queried, a little curious. "And how can we be far from the earth? Only bird and things like that can even fly."

Julia took a deep breath and smiled, "Well, we've become more intelligent.

People have invented things. I'm sure an engineer would be happy to explain." Julia knew that well enough. She dumped her first boyfriend she had onboard because he kept boring her with ship systems and such that she really didn't care to know. "It's a starship. You're on a ship that is flying among the stars."

"When ... ?" She started to ask, her voice drifting off as she attempted to comprehend all of this.

"Hundreds of years ago." She spoke softly and kept her gaze softly fixed on Valentina.

"When is now?" Hundreds of years said a lot, but not enough.

"2383." Again, she watched the vulnerable woman.

Tina clutched the blanket tighter around herself reflexively. "How is this possible?" This was starting to feel like a bad dream now, worse than before when she had first woken up in the other room.

"I wish I knew." Julia sighed and started making notes on her PADD.

Tears welled up in her eyes as memories came to her mind, family and friends, people she had seen the day before and never would have a chance to see again. No more kisses from Mama, no more stories from grandfather.

Laying down, she buried her face in one of the pillows as she began to cry.

She hadn't even been able to say goodbye.

Julia looked up mid-word and set the PADD down. Her natural instinct was to hold the woman. Her training told her to keep her distance unless they requested otherwise. She did, however, stand and walk over to the replicator and got a glass of water and walked over and set it on the bedside table.

"Valentina?"

Tina continued to cry, seemingly oblivious to Julia or the rest of the room.

All gone. She felt so empty now, alone and helpless in a world so far beyond her understanding it was bewildering. The Stars! Tiny points of light in the sky, how was it possible to fly between them?!?!

Julia took her place in her seat again. She continued to make notes, letting Valentina "cry it out."

After some time her crying had abated significantly, and at one point she turned her head to the side, looking over at Julia. "I can't go back, can I?"

Julia looked at her. There were ways to time travel. But they wouldn't her.

So therefore, the answer was, "No. I'm sorry."

She nodded, acknowledging the answer. Once she'd calmed down, Tina rolled over onto her back, the blanked still wrapped about her body though not as tightly as moments before. "What do I do now?"

"We might be able to bring Eve back per say. That's who you came aboard as."

"Who was she?" Tina wanted to try to get her mind off of the disturbing and distressing facts plaguing her mind -- anything else would do, she hoped.

After all, everyone thought of her as 'Eve;' if she learned enough maybe she might be able to act like this other woman. It couldn't be that hard, could it?

"I never met her."

"If you've never met her, then how do you know that she's who I'm supposed to be?" A reasonable question, yes?

"You believed yourself you were her."

"I don't even remember anything between the night I went to bed and when I woke up, Nara called it a .. "medical facility," I don't remember exactly what it's name was."

"We call it Sickbay."

"Yeah, that," Tina acknowledged.

"You have a serious case of amnesia."

"And that is? Not being able to remember six hundred years I slept through?"

This whole situation was ludicrous, so why was she surprised that she was asking or being told preposterous things?

Julia sighed, "No. Amnesia is forgetting who you are. You are known as Eve and since you can't remember her, you have amnesia,"

"Same thing," Tina muttered. "So, like I asked before, what am I going to do now?"

"We can figure out some form of therapy for you. Help you remember who you are."

"Ugh! Will you please stop that! I'm not this Eve person," she continued.

"And what if I don't want to bring back these memories you think I've lost?

Hell, you haven't even met me while supposedly thinking of myself as Eve, so how do I know you're not trying to trick me?"

Julia stayed steady and calm, "I can do some looking and see who DID know you as Eve and have you talk to them. In the meantime, Eve was and is a member of this crew. It is our duty to bring you back to your full capacity as an officer."

"Housecleaning"
by
Praetor Hitan tr'Chandrix,
Head of Rihannsu Star Empire Government

It wasn't long before Hitan heard the first sounds of battle through the tritanium bulkheads that marked the exit from his personal quarters. He'd gotten perhaps half a minute's view on his security screens before losing connectivity with his ship's internal network. His external guards were performing adequately in repelling the traitorous crowd, but he wasn't able to discern anything further after losing visual display.

Nevertheless, the advancing group had made it to his last line of defense before gaining entry to the inner sanctum and control center - if you could call it centralized anymore. His access had been severed at the same moment his video had been. He was effectively blind. Omar was probably enjoying the moment, believing erroneously that the Praetor was losing his courage in the face of the vast unknowns. Oh, no, Omar would not find his Praetor cowering in a corner.

Hitan was no fool. No Romulan with any sense of intrigue and deception would allow him- or herself to rely completely on outside sources for safety and control.

Though he stood in the center of the room, he was by far not undefended.

The door exploded inward, sending shrapnel all about, but debris deflected harmlessly off Hitan's personal forcefield. Still, he gave the impression of surprise by throwing his arms up and ducking the barrage. The ensuing shockwave of the mortar missile gave it a sense of realism as well when he was thrown backwards into his table, smashing through it and into a wall display. Knick-knacks and awards fell atop him.

One of his guards tumbled into the room through the new opening, his longsword out and flailing. Another Romulan climbed through the opening as the once-muted sounds of battle had an opening to escape through and increased in volume. But before the Romulan could get his other leg through, a short blade erupted out of his throat from behind - in and out quickly - almost too quick to notice, and he stumbled forward to splay across the threshold, one hand on his green-soaked throat, the other on the floor near his ihl-sen.

The guard who fell through first finished him off with a swift decapitation when he had regained his stance.

"Praetor!" The khre'Arrain spotted Hitan laying feet up several meters across the room. Glancing out to take stock of the outside battle, he was at odds with his protocols and expectations. He was required to defend his Praetor with his life, but if he left his comrades on the field for a man that may already be dead, they would all surely die. Though, if Hitan was still alive and he did nothing to assist him in the event he was close to death, or incapacitated enough to be unable to defend himself if the enemy broke through the lines, then Grel himself would be executed as a coward and traitor.

Grel made his decision. He rose and ran to his Praetor, and in the line of a missile that had been obviously intended for the Praetor's desk, and Hitan himself.

The khre'Arrain had enough confused time to see the singularity warhead tip emerge from his torso before it blew him up on the spot.

Hitan was shaken awake by the blast, feeling sticky materials plaster his face as he was lifted in the wake of the second shockwave in as many minutes. He saw the smoking boots left standing on the floor not two meters away and knew what he was covered with, but paid no heed. Grel died in service to his Praetor as expected of him. His family would be rewarded if Hitan survived the coup.

"Hitan! If you're still alive, come out and we'll make your death quick and painless! There's nothing left for you, traitor!"

A chuckle escaped the Romulan's lips. "Somehow I doubt my death will be neither quick or painless! No, if you want me, come in and get me, cowards!" The last Praetor took five purposeful steps towards the dismembered hand of the khre'Arrain who'd died earlier, and pried out the longsword that still dripped blood. His personal shield flickered back to life at the same moment, his energy recharged in the wake of the second overloading blast. He crossed the sword with his ihl-sen, clanging them together, and drawing the edges against each other in a long moment of ringing metal.

He waited for the assault, but it did not come. What was Omar's plan? Was he the coward Hitan always purported him to be? The Proconsul, as much as Hitan knew the other wanted the Praetorship, was not a dishonorable man.

tr'Chandrix knew Omar would want to be looking Hitan in the eye, making sure the latter knew exactly who it was that took his life in the end.

Was it not Omar that wanted his death? With even so little remaining senators and Rihannsu on the ship, was even now the Tal Shiar on the move to reclaim their right of power? He knew no Senators on board that would want him dead and Omar installed in his place, but this was Rihannsu life.

Always plots revolving, deals in place superseding others. Whatever it took to rise through the ranks to achieve the top-placed position in government.

The favor of the Empress.

Never turning his back on the blasted doors, he inched his way to the escape pod ejector in his quarters, planning to fire it off minus him - but not without a sensor mask that gave the impression he was aboard. It would gain him time while he escaped into the secret access tunnels built into sensor dampening fields only he knew about on board.

Reaching the console that would open the escape doors and transmit an alarm to the tactical panels on the bridge where he knew his assassins would be housed, he was undeniably astonished to find more than a half dozen Starfleet ships hovering outside his port window.

******

I smell the demon! Its blood permeates my... nostrils... yes, that is what they are called. My companion trundles with me. We share the same form now, and feel it whispering in my thoughts.

killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill

Ulazhi is near, I can feel her breath and heart in rhythm with my own. Her touch caresses me. I can taste her power, and insatiable thirst for the creature's heart. Soon!

rumblerumblerumble

We are a predator in this dark place, and only have eyes for the demon. Its minions have been sustaining for us, but the pinnacle of righteousness will wash the unclean of their sins and see the true goddess, and know. When we have shown the demon the truth as it comes face to face with the goddess through me, will they all cease their wanderings, and know what it is to be blessed.

"What are you doing here?" It raises something in its hand at me. I've seen those things shoot out flashes of light.

What am I doing here, it says. If it were truly blessed, it would know.

"I am here to cleanse you, as I am the Messenger of Ulazhi, and you are an unbeliever." My mouth opens wide, spitting out the enormous tongue of Ulazhi's matron that wraps around the minion's throat, crushing the life from it, and tearing its head off its shoulders. It falls to the floor, but I catch and cradle the remaining body. She raises one of my hand/talons, and plunges it into the creature's chest to rend out its heart. I relish the cracking of its bones as we fish around inside for the organ.

Its blood flows succulent into my mouth as my teeth partake of it. It will not be as divine as the demon's, but it will suffice as it gives me strength beyond comparison.

imhungryimhungryimhungryimhungryimhungryimhungry

We move on.

"Reality is in the Eye of the Beholder" - part three

Lt. Ella Grey
Daro Cole, apc
Death (written by Robert)

****

The Grey Residence,
Santa Clara

"Oh," Ella breathed. "I understand."

"Do you?" Death whispered. "Do you really?"

It hurt. Not as much as the hand forcibly starting her heart, of course, but the knowledge that she hadn't known, hadn't understood, hurt.

Her hands slipped away from his face. "Yes. I thought... you were ...

just a-another part of him. You're ... not."

"But I am," Death whispered as another wave of light washed through her, running like acid in her veins. "Now. We're one; I am he and he is me ..."

"Leave him alone," Ella snapped.

Death shook his head. "You still don't understand, do you?"

Her body flailed and she couldn't stop it. Acid and fire raced through her at warp speed and she thought that her heart was going to do more than just start - it was going to fly out of her chest. "You'll be ...

stopped. I'm going to ..."

"You can't," Death whispered. "There's nothing to stop - there's just what is. Nothing more."

"I don't accept that," She managed. "You're ... not supposed to be here."

"Where else would I be?" Death asked. "He is here, so I am here. As I said, this is what is. Nothing can change that. It just ... is."

"But he used to be ... you used to be, better."

"That was Before," Death advised her as another wash of green light seared through her veins and her heart gave a single, shuddering beat.

"This is Now. We are what we are, for better or worse."

"Before what?" Ella gasped, even though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

Death paused and then leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

****

USS Galaxy
Sickbay

"We've got a pulse," The nurse monitoring Lt. Grey announced. "She's stabilizing."

****

USS Galaxy
Sickbay

She awoke with a start to an empty Sickbay.

Well, almost empty.

"Some spirit guide you are," Ella told him. "He nearly killed me trying to ..."

She trailed off with a frown. There had been someone just with her, she was sure of it, only now she couldn't remember.

"What do you want, Ella?" Daro Cole asked from her bedside, smoothing back her hair. It was comforting and just a little odd.

She could feel her heart slowly beating in her chest. There was no green light anywhere although she couldn't have said why she thought to look.

"I want to live," Ella said.

He nodded. "That's a good start."

"I want to transfer to Corran's department," She continued. "Even though I'm not sure it will be worth the ulcer."

"Okay," Daro said.

"I want ... you're going to laugh at me,"

"Probably."

She made a face. "I want to be a better person."

Daro laughed.

"I told you," Ella sat up in the bed, wincing a lot at the pain.

There was something else she wanted but it was escaping her. Something to do with a thing that she wanted to destroy, which was hardly the path to take towards being a better person.

She'd just have to ignore the feeling for now, Ella decided.

He nodded again."Anything else?"

If she'd been standing, Ella would have put her hands on her hips.

"Isn't that enough?!"

His lips twitched into a smile. "Wake up, Ella. And don't look away this time."

"Royally Fucked"
By
Ensign Shaav
Engineer/Warp Core Specialist
U.S.S. Miranda

Featuring...
Several Extremely Hacked-Off NPCs Inserted Exclusively For Comic Relief (S.E.H.N.P.C.I.E.F.C.R.)

********************************************************************

"...you hear me? Sir, please wake up."

One of Shaav's eyes opened blearily. "Crewman."

He tried sitting, but a sudden spell of dizziness convinced him to settle for leaning back against a wall. "Status report." he managed to croak.

The crewman looked around in the semidarkness. "I don't know." she said. "Last I remember, we were both working at this junction, then something overloaded and..."

She broke off, looking around the enclosed space. A sole lighting element flickered on and off, dimly illuminating the small EPS control alcove they were in.

"Crewman?" Shaav prompted.

"-We're shut in, sir." The crewman managed. "A support beam collapsed in the Jeffries tube behind us. We'll have to find a way around."

Shaav blinked. "Crewman, there are over a hundred miles of Jeffries tubes on this ship."

The crewman nodded unenthusiastically.

"Let's go, then."

Shaav picked another Jeffries tube on his left, and they both ducked in and began crawling.

******************************

The tale of how Shaav ended up stuck wandering through Jeffries tubes in the lower decks of the starship Miranda is perhaps as convoluted as the tale of why his academy room-mate wore phaser armour to Federation History 101.

But that is another story entirely.

Suffice it to say, our favourite Vulcan had been on temporary assignment to the Exeter when he was asked by a friend back on Miranda to come back to help with a problem with the ship's dilithium articulation mainframe.

"Damned enlisted flunkies..." Shaav's friend had muttered. "I told one of them to monitor antimatter consumption while we shunted power from the warp core to the repaired shield generators for testing, and now the antimatter streams are out of alignment. Nothing I do seems to fix them; told the computer to re-calibrated, tried adjusting crystal orientation manually to compensate, ran a-"

"OK." Shaav said.

His friend back on Miranda very probably blinked. "What?"

"OK." Shaav repeated. "I'll forward details of my wherabouts to the deck officer. Expect me and my equipment to return in three minutes."

"Three minutes?"

Shaav raised an eyebrow, before remembering a moment later that he was talking to his friend over an audio channel and thus there was no one to see him raise his eyebrow other than a very-confused lieutenant stationed at the console across from him.

"Three minutes." he repeated. "Approximately."

His friend then made a curious noise not unlike that of a small dog being stepped on.

"Thank you, sir, but I already trimmed down there." the Vulcan deadpanned. "Shaav out."

He closed the channel, and looked up.

The lieutenant across from him, who was pretending very hard to work while very intently eavesdropping on Shaav's conversation, managed a startled jump and a squeak. "Ensign?"

"Please inform the deck officer that I am returning to the Miranda to effect emergency repairs." Shaav said. "All my volunteered tasks here have been completed."

The lieutenant nodded.

Shaav leaned closer, glancing at the lieutenant's console by the warp core. "Frequency oscillation."

The lieutenant, now more miffed than anything, gave Shaav a look that seemed to say, "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"An impurity in the matter stream has caused a 'hiccup' in the containment field, which is causing the frequency to fluctuate faster than can be automatically compensated for. I suggest you purge and reset the frequency buffer before the computer does it for you and power output drops to 3%."

He paused.

"Admiral Murdock would be most displeased one of his starships had such a power...inconvenience."

Another pause.

"I'm fairly certain the lack of shields, weapons, propulsion, life-support, and gravity would annoy him as well."

The lieutenant seemed to silently debate with himself whether or not it was worth a court-martial to decapitate this particular Vulcan, then finally decided that he'd accumulated too much vacation time to see it go to waste. "Aye, ensign." he grumbled. "Anything else?"

"Step back."

"What?"

A poorly-placed hyperspanner fell on the lieutenant's head, causing him to flail about wildly and curse with great gusto.

This time, when Shaav raised his eyebrow, the message was exceedingly clear.

"Will that be all, Lieutenant?" the Vulcan asked innocently.

The lieutenant muttered a few more casual epithets involving a ferengi's mother and an improbably-located pogo stick before replying "Yes, ensign, that will be all. You're dismissed."

For the third time that day, Shaav nodded. "Thank you for your time."

He grabbed a portable tool kit, straightened his uniform, punched transporter coordinates in to a nearby console, and promptly dematerialised.

Silence reigned for a very long moment.

From somewhere above, a crewman swallowed very nervously and very audibly.

******************************

Shaav had spent another week scurrying around Miranda, stabilizing power transfers, checking phaser arrays, repairing EPS conduits, and just otherwise making himself very useful. Two days ago, he and a self-assembled task force began picking their way through the disaster area that was Miranda's lower decks, moving first alongside the main backup lines, then branching out in twos and threes to check the individual EPS taps for damage.

Now, after he and Crewman Saglietti had been stuck like rats in a maze for several hours, even HE was beginning to lose his patience.

"Crewman? We've been in this area before."

The crewman shot him a glare that probably would have frozen solid most other beings, but caused him merely to raise an eyebrow. "Sir? I'm not a compass."

"Neither am I, crewman." Shaav said evenly. "But the fleet is returning to Romulus in an hour, and we need to be in engineering to effect a protomatter shunt to the warp core to boost power output."

Saglietti stopped. "Didn't you say excessive protomatter injection eats away at the injector assemblies?"

"Above a certain threshhold, yes." Shaav conceded, "And over extended periods of time."

They stopped talking to duck through another hatch, stepping out in to a deserted stretch of corridor. "But if we go in to battle and don't survive because our shields are underpowered," he continued, "I suspect we won't be worrying about swapping in new injectors in a few weeks."

He looked around curiously, noting that the phasoelectric torches and tricorders they carried provided the only illumination. "This section is deserted." he declared.

Saglietti rolled her eyes, wondering to herself why such intelligent creatures as Vulcans stated the obvious more frequently than overprotective parents. "Yes."

Shaav looked at her curiously, but said nothing.

Eventually, they sidestepped enough burnt-out consoles, shattered light elements, twisted wall panels, and a malfunctioning replicator that continuously spat out strawberry milkshakes to where they managed to get to a turbolift.

And to further make things difficult, it was broken.

"Computer, main engineering." Shaav ordered.

"Unable to comply." the computer burbled apologetically. "Turboshaft access is unavailable."

Shaav frowned, and Crewman Saglietti glared daggers at the unyielding 'lift door.

"Clarify." Shaav said.

"Turbolift control to section 4918 was bypassed 127 hours ago when this section was declared off-limits until service in spacedock."

"Engineering override, authorization Shaav-epsilon-9."

"Unable to comply." the computer repeated, further taxing his Vulcan patience. "Insufficient power."

There was a very pregnant pause.

"What now?" Saglietti asked.

"Back to the Jeffries tubes." Shaav said calmly.

She pulled a face at him. "Can we not? It smells in there."

"Back to the main branch." Shaav ordered. "Look for a ladder."

The crewman's only reply was a rude gesture.

******************************

Three ladders, seven hatches, and a series of highly-opportune plot devices later, the two engineers finally found themselves on a deck with power.

"Yessss!" Saglietti said, dismissing the plan she had formed five hatches ago to ditch the Vulcan and start burning through decks with a phaser.

Some science officers working nearby stopped talking to look curiously at the dishevelled engineers who had just popped out of a wall.

"Main engineering?" Shaav inquired smoothly.

One of them pointed towards the nearest 'lift.

"Thank you."

They dashed off, leaving the science crewmen to wonder what the hell that was about.

Just as red alert klaxons began to sound, Shaav and Crewman Saglietti skidded in to main engineering. Shaav ran over and punched a series of commands in to his usual console by the warp core.

"8% increase in power output." Saglietti observed, peering over Shaav's shoulder. "That should make the folks on the bridge happy."

Shaav nodded. "It may give us peace and long life yet."

The ship suddenly pitched downwards, making everyone in Engineering grip something for support. Shaav felt multiple fusion cannon strikes pepper Miranda's shields.

A Hellbore slammed in to the ship somewhere above the secondary hull, feeding back in to Ensign Tagra's modified shield grid but still hitting hard enough to knock everyone to their feet.

"Stabilize containment!" Shaav called out, voice steady and strong. "Activate the secondary fusion reactors and reroute all auxiliary power to the shields!"

However illogical the thought was, it occurred to Shaav that today was not a very good day.

"Principles"

Admiral Victor Murdock
LtJG Chris Daniels
Lieutenant K'aa

CIC, Deck 7, USS Miranda
========================

Chris hustled down the steps back into his domain--and quickly crossed the line over to the Admiral. He turned his headset back on, allowing Jaxom and K'aa to hear him on the bridge.

He stopped next to Admiral Murdock, who was studying the holotable's portrait of the battle.

"Admiral, sir!" He still had to speak up to be heard. "We may be able to weaken the Starbeast using biological weapons." He waited for the Admiral to look at him like he had nine heads, Trill spots and a Gorn's disposition. Even he wasn't sold on the idea...but they were running out of options as they approached the T'Kith'Kin. The ship rocked under the force of multiple hits from the T'Kith'Kin ships.

"Shield's down to sixty percent! Tac Sensor cluster two is starting to fail!" Darmajava's voice bellowed out within the din of the CIC.

"Absolutely not." the Admiral replied, fixing a glare on the young officer. "Federation law specifically prevents biological warfare, son, and I'm not looking to be charged with war crimes." "Sir, I'm not talking about widespread use...we can replicate a common cold and try to implant it in that thing...It'd be no different than using a computer virus against the Borg--"

"Save it, Lieutenant. I know yuir trying ta think outside the box, but that's not a box we ever need ta be openin'." Another hit rocked the Miranda and sent sparks flying. One of the Weapons control panels turned to shards and sent Lt Hammertly and his crew flying. Marcos and Aerk, handling play by play of the battle, both slid from their feet across the deck. Chris himself got flung two feet into a railing, fortunately, he caught it with his stomach so it only took a second to get his wind back.

He looked around. Moderate damage at some of the stations, nothing besides a few bloody noses amongst his people yet. He turned back to the Admiral and mustered as much conviction he could in front of a living legend.

"Shields at forty-two percent! Moderate Damage to Torpedo Tube 3!

Damage reports from across the ship!"

He kept it quiet, so as not to draw attention to the "Sir, we're running out of time. With all due respect, this idea isn't working and its going to cost us this ship before it wins us the battle. We expected the T'Kith'Kin to fire on the Starbeast when it attacked them. Instead, they're trying to shut us down...We bluffed, it didn't work. Now I won't advocate trying to make the thing sick anymore, but we need a new plan of attack before this turns really bad for all of us." The kicker was that Chris had never turned off his headset, so the bridge had been getting all of this.

Capts Daniels and Arneson, having managed to steady themselves against the railing after the last hit, watched the exchange. They were waiting to step in. No doubt, John Daniels' son was out of his league against Admiral Murdock, but neither of them were going to intervene until the right time. The boy was still holding his own--barely.

"I hear what yuir sayin', lad, but I'll not change my mind." the Admiral shook his head. "We can't just fight, Mister Daniels - we have tae be worth fighting for. That means we hold onto our principles, even if it kills us, because otherwise, they don't mean a damn thing.

Let's come up with another plan."

[Tractor/repulsssor beam activated – focusssing on lead T'Kith'Kin bioship] came a crackling hiss from the bridge. The decks vibrated at a different frequency as the Miranda's tractor beam was put to use, and the constant strikes to the starship's shields seemed to slow. On the master holofield, two T'Kith'Kin targets were crippled and began a slow, painful retreat from the fireline. Behind the Miranda, eleven bioships disappeared from the tactical display as the Starbeast fed, and continued its choreographed advance.

It was Darmajava who broke the silence. "We're not maneuvering – just moving in a straight like. Helm's down! Helm's do…" The Indonesian's report was cut off as his workstation and half a dozen others flared brightly in sparks and electrical fires. The few seconds after John Ramirez fell was enough for the Starbeast to send one tentacle at the Federation warship – a single tentacle had crippled her aft shield.

[CIC- Damage Report!] came another basso hiss from the bridge.

"We're alive." Murdock was the first respond. "Just knocked about a bit. Get that helm control back online, bridge, and pull us out o'

that beasties range."

[Hrssss… the fore isss taken care of, but if you're still operational down there you need to look after the aft fire arcsss], a brief silence echoed the repair and fire-fighting efforts on the bridge.

[The Ssstarbeasst hasss over-lived itsss usssefulnesss – it goesss...

now, while we're ssstill capable of defending ourssselvesss. Usssse transssphasssics or the probe."

"Acknowledged." Daniels replied, turning back to the holoscreen.

"Admiral, look - the Lyrans - "

"What's that?" Murdock said, turning around to observe the movement of the vessels on the holotanks.

Perhaps a dozen Lyran vessels had fought thier way through to the center of the battle, where the Miranda and several other ships were attempting to take on the Star Beast. With the predictive algorithms, most of the Allied vessels were saying clear of it's swaying tentacles and gaping maw - though it got it's own hits in. The debris fields testified to that.

The Lyran ships - damaged as all hell, by the readouts - weren't running away from the Star Beast, though.

They were headed right for it - right down it's massive throat.

Something in the Lyran language blasted across the comm channels as the alien ship went into the belly of the beast - and then, in a synchrnozied operation, all twelve ships detonated thier warp cores, self destructing INSIDE the massive alien creature.

When the flash faded, the holotank was clear.

The Star Beast was dead, nothing more than some free-floating organic components.

"Second Strike, Part 3"

Acting Captain Jaal Jaxom
Lieutenant Th'Khiss K'aa, Acting CTO
Commander Jack Dawson, Chief Engineer
Lieutenant John Ramirez, Chief Flight Controller
Lt. Colonel Alex McKeon

"New contacts!" Alex called out, shortly after they'd heard orders being issued to the fighter squadrons to take down the shield from the inside, and to other squadrons to escort the hoppers in. On the screen, they could already see thousands of fighters and landing fraft heading for the hundred-kilometer hole someone had opened over Ki Baratan with, of all things, nukes. "More ships coming in, Captain."

"What are they?" Jaal had no idea who the newcomers were. As far as he knew everything Starfleet had was in the surrounding space. Who else could possibly be showing up... worse yet, who's side were they on?

Alex spun around to face Jaal in his chair. "I might be wrong, but it looks like they're.. Lyrans."

"Lyrans?" Jaal asked in confusion. "Weren't they just taken over by the Hydrans before they got here?"

"Resssissstance fleet perhapsss?" K'aa offered as tactical data on the new arrivals came through. "Reading dozensss of shipsss of variousss sizesss…. King Jaguar refitsss… Tiger Command Cruisersss… Lynx destroyersss… all older warcraft, but equipped with current weaponry."

"They'll be on our side then, Dakota, tell them to join us and feed them information we have on the beasts movements." Jaal directed the Mirnada's communications officer. The ship started shaking more. The T'Kith'Kin's unusual, organic weapons systems had always given Federation shields trouble.

T'Kith'Kin shields were even worse to deal with. The bigger the thing you tried to hit them with the more it was absorbed by their shields.

"Admiral," the Trilled called on the comm, "Can some of the surrounding ships in the fleet lay down some suppression fire on the T'Kith'Kin while we lure in the beast?" The ship shook again more violently this time, "They seem to want to keep us away but I can't imagine why," the Trill quipped.

"Captain, we may have another old trick to teach these new dogs", the Gorn growled as he sent another volley of weapons fire into the hull of the closest T'Kith'Kin bioship. Seeing most of the energy absorbed reaffirmed what K'aa had learned of the insectoid defences. "Their 'shieldsss' are generated by organic creaturesss clustered on the exterior of each bioship's hull. Rather than using conventional weaponry upfront, I sssuggest an 'attack' with the Miranda'sss tractor beam set to alternately grab and repulssse the target – we may be able to shake the shield-generatorsss off long enough to ssstrike their critical systemsss with phasersss."

"That sounds pretty energy intensive K'aa," Jaal glanced over Jack's shoulder at the operations console, "How we doin' Jack. Can we run the shields, tractor beam, and weapons all at once?"

"The correct execution turnsss our largessst tactical weakness with the T'Kith'Kin into an advantage - we don't need to be the onesss firing, Captain", the reptilian pressed, his eyes still focused on the display of the ongoing battle before them. "The Sao Paolo issss running essscort to our port flank - she hassss enough firepower to cripple a bioship... assssuming we can peel it's armor off."

Jaxom gave his own display a quick check, "The Cleveland and Panther are nearby as well. Tell them to join the Sao Paolo. We're going with K'aa's suggestion."

As the Miranda arced past the outer perimeter of the T'Kith'Kin fleet, the frenzied Starbeast followed, driven by compulsions alien to its nature. It persued, tentacles stretching to reach the massive starship... but it also fed. Three T'Kith'Kin bioships were drawn into the creature's mass as it sought to regenerate the mass it lost from the transphasic torpedoes. Plasma flared in long streaks of bright emerald as the living ships were crushed into the creature's massive bulk.

It was possible that the T'Kith'Kin realized what the Miranda was trying to do. Several of their bio ships opened fire on the Starfleet vessel. The Miranda shook violently. Jaal's teeth rattled preventing him from talking for a moment. "Report!" he finally managed to speak again.

"Rerouting power on decks twelve, thirteen, and fourteen. A fire is also being reported in the ops center and surrounding corridors."

"Shields are down to sixty percent."

"I'm losing Port Thruster Control" Ramirez reported from the Helm, "transferring power to compensate." As he did so, the Miranda rocked again, as the T'Kith'Kin continued their attack, and then again, and once more, before Ramirez' console exploded, sending sparks into his face, and propelling him backwards out of his seat. The pain was excruciating, it felt like all the muscles in his face were about to explode, much like his own console. He tried to move, to get up, but he couldn't do it. His vision got hazy, and as he tried to see through the mist, he found himself looking up a familiar face.

He strained to hear his words, "your not dying son. Trust me, I know what that feels like..." The last thing he saw before going unconscious was his father's face.

From the edge of his vision, K'aa caught Ramirez' fall as the helm station exploded, but kept focused on his own display.

"Tractor/repulsssor beam activated – focusssing on lead T'Kith'Kin bioship." Instantly, an intense blue beam erupted from the Miranda's saucer section and caressed the outer hull of the nearest organic warship. Like aphids blown off a rose in a strong wind, dozens of small black flealike creatures were shaken off the bioship's shell, their hooklike legs and claws vainly flailing in the black vacuum.

The crew of the Sao Paulo were by no means distracted by the display.

Instantly, pulse phaser and torpedo fire slammed into the bioship port flank - shell and coral-like substructure shattered. The Insectoid living-ship began to trail plasma and listed sickeningly to starboard, away from the crippling fire of the Federation ships.

Between the Rihanssu, Klingon and Rihansu fleet and the incoming Lyran catamarans, the Hydran, Breen and T'Kith'Kin armada were caught in a pincer, but were by no means defenceless. Disruptor, Fusion-cannon, Bio-plasma and Hellbores continued to flash in space's cold darkness.

Growling and flashing more fangs, K'aa focused the tractor/repulsor beam on another bioship – this time receiving support fire from the Cleveland. As well as the new attack method was working, the Miranda was taking a hammering from T'Kith'Kin bio-plasma fire. The Hydrans had seen that their Hellbore fire wasn't having the traditional effect and had focused their weapons fire on Klingon warships, depriving the Miranda of the extra power Tagra's shield modification provided.

To aft, relentlessly, the Starbeast pursued – and fed. The creature was driven by two needs: to crush the Federation ship before it… and to survive. To accomplish both, tentacles kilometers long snaked out and flailed in all directions, grasping bioships and crushing them, drawing the organic mass into its own leviathan-like bulk and absorbing it. As John Ramirez fell into the blissful quiet of unconsciousness, a massive scaled tentacle whipped and glanced off the Miranda's aft section.

Jaal had lept down to check on Ramirez. Fortunately there was an EMT team in the conference lounge waiting for such an emergency. "Transfer helm control to secondary bridge," the Trill ordered, "Make sure the comm link sta..."

He didn't get a chance to finish, as Jaal tried to stand the Miranda shook rather hard after getting hit by the beast. He rolled across to the starboard bulkhead and got the wind knocked out of him. He waved off the EMT personnel as they helped him to his feet.

Jack cringed as he felt his knees give way at the sheer force of the impact. Pulling himself up, he watched as his display lit up like a Christmas tree. "Would someone kindly tell that thing I just got this ship put back together and I don't need it tearing it apart again?" he yelled out in frustration. "Structural integrity is down to sixty-five percent after that little swat, Captain."

"Noted," Jaal was on his feet and back in the command chair. "We can't stop now though, we're close..."

The Gorn managed to keep to his feet despite the bone-jarring jolt, but his tactical display's readout of targets to Miranda's aft were flickering. "CIC- Damage Report!"

["Shields at forty-two percent! Moderate Damage to Torpedo Tube 3!

Damage reports from across the ship!"]

"Hrssss… the fore isss taken care of, but if you're still operational down there you need to look after the aft fire arcsss". K'aa paused as he send tractor-beam pulse at another bioship. "The Ssstarbeasst hasss over-lived itsss usssefulnesss – it goesss now, while we're ssstill capable of defending ourssselvesss. Usssse transssphasssics or the probe."

"We gotta regroup," Jaal relayed some course changes to the secondary bridge helm. The ship essentially did a 'loop de loop' in space. Jaal figured it would do two things, one, keep the starbeast following them and two, hopefully while the T'Kith'Kin were shooting at the Miranda, they might hit the starbeast while it was between them and the Miranda.

"K'aa," Jaal was saying while checking the damage reports coming on his display, "As soon as we get a shot at the monster again, take it."

"We've got Lyran ships coming in fast and hard at one seven zero mark one six! They're on an intercept course!"

"Evasives, now!" Jaal was unsure at this point who offered that tidbit of information. Several consoles were were burned out causing the crew to use auxiliary stations. No one was where they would normally be save for Jack.

Something in the Lyran language blasted across the comm channels as the alien ships went into the belly of the beast - and then, in a synchrnozied operation, all twelve ships detonated thier warp cores, self destructing INSIDE the massive alien creature.

Once the screen's brightness went back to normal it was clear the beast was no longer a threat.

Jaal grinned a determined smile. "Time to go back on the offensive....

"Who Wants to Live Forever" Part Seventeen

***Location; somewhere on Hydran occupied Romulus***

Dhanishta hadn't remembered much of the encounter with the beings that tried to take over the Galaxy and its crew. She didn't even know if she was right about the assumption of what was inside her, within her. Those thoughts would come later; the analyzing of the situation and the hypotheses would come after, long after she broke free and returned to the safety of the Galaxy; that was if her beloved home was still up there.

She screamed from within, with all her might she screamed.

Dhanishtas mouth finally opened, unable to contain the voice of the engineer any longer. 'Her' concentration broke, the invisible web containing the marine snapped, its fine threads breaking, flowing over him, unfelt and unseen as they fluttered into the ether.

Free of the restraints Bailes body fell to the ground. With his muscles torn and stretched, blood oozing from the deep cuts across the backs of his thighs, flowing freely from the most recent, all he could do was lay there, straining to breathe.

'She' struggled against the rise of the engineer. Tried to push her back down, not understanding herself that they were one and the same thing, and for her to breathe they had to do so together, instead of suffocate each other.

Yet neither of them knew at this point who the other was. Each feared the possibility of non existence, neither contemplating for a second the prospect of coexistence.

And so they fought each other, with Baile as their audience.

No doubt he wouldn't be calling for an encore!

From the depths that she had been pushed to, Dhanishta rose. She had hidden within her own mind before and the path back to reality was not a difficult one to traverse again. The only difference was last time it was voluntary.

'She' felt the resolve of the engineer, as unexpected as it was, and cried out against the unfairness of it, cursing time once more for his lack of understanding.

Dhanishtas body fell to the ground, a battle commenced within and without as the struggle for control ensued. Like a child in a tantrum fit, her head shook from left to right, eyes so tightly closed they looked like crows feet. Her hands formed fists and on each shake of her head they alternated in pummeling the dirt. Her torso rolled with the momentum of the fury contained and her legs began to follow suite, her knees rose and her heels began to kick the ground, leaving little indents that grew with every strike.

"IT'S… MY… BODY… TOO…." 'She' hollered through Dhanishtas lips with such force that it felt as if her breath contained razors and as the sound rose up from her belly and through her throat it shredded it, leaving a trail of what felt like cuts and gashes that then burned with every inhale.

Dhanishtas body began to tremble through the fitting, and before long it was an altogether different movement that coursed through it. It jerked, no longer in any rhythm as the tantrum before. It lurched up, belly towards the sky, her spine coiled. Her head thrashed fiercely, knocking her temples on protruding stones, her hands clenched as they vibrated wildly; juddering without the regularity of the alternate pounding they had before. Her eyes rolled backwards in their sockets, eyes lids fluttering slightly as her neck arched back, along with the rest of her body. And then all at once, as it threatened to keep arching until her spine snapped, it stopped and fell to the ground with such force that her limp limbs bounced on the frozen dirt. Blood began to trickle from the engineer's nose as her head rolled to one side…

Above the two bodies that now fought for every breath, the churning mass of rolling clouds in the darkened sky beyond was lit by the passing of a fiery comet. It blazed over the tree tops, so close that if either of them had been conscious they would have sworn that the 'comet' clipped several branches as it descended at a rapid pace.

For a brief moment the two below were warmed by the passage of the shuttle as its fiery wake flowed over them, hot enough to singe Dhani's hair as it fluttered in the breeze it created. The streak of light from the passing shuttle as it lanced across the heavens above would have made the marine cry out. The burning pain would have shot through his skull like a rocket, yet his eyes were closed and thus he was unaware…

Fire trailed from the nacelles of the damaged Starfleet shuttle. It wavered as it flew as low as the pilot dared, trying to avoid incoming fire and the low terrain at the same time. Inside holding on to the wall beside him and the contents of his stomach, John watched as the pilots before him struggled to maintain control, the small shuttle he and his team were strapped into was rolling and pitching so wildly that several of the support beams behind him had already bent and warped under the stress.

"Twenty seconds" one of the pilots yelled.

~ Let's hope we last 'that' long! ~ John prayed as he watched the ground race up to meet that at what seemed a suicidal pace.

Seeing a flash in front of him he cringed as part of the forward end of the shuttle was hit and the transparent aluminium port exploded, showering everyone inside with sharp fragments of hot metal.

Cursing as he brushed several pieces off him, heedless of the cuts, he felt himself bounce in his seat as the shuttle clipped something, then a bone jarring thud as the small ship ploughed into the side of a hill. For what seemed like an eternity there was the horrendous sound of metal being torn from metal and the screams and curses from the passengers, then, for a second, complete silence.

Then noise. From outside the sound of battle; explosions, weapons fire and screams, all in equal quantities.

"Move people!" John heard himself shouting. Some instinctive part of himself taking over in the heat of the moment. Slapping the quick release buckle on his harness he lurched forward to check the two pilots. Both were miraculously alive, though looking like an hour or so with a dermal regenerator would do their complexions the world of good. Picking up their rifles they headed aft with the team.

Popping the aft hatch with the emergency bolts the small squad moved out in a rapid but practiced fashion, checking with eyes and sensors and sticking to cover, not that cover would do a lot of good against some of the hardware being used here. But then training

was training.

Checking their position John was relieved to see that they had come down more or less where he had hoped, behind friendly forces.

Moving forward quickly but carefully, he crawled up a small rise and looked over the top. Seeing before him, spread out over a fairly wide area, a contingent of Rihan troops. He watched for a moment as they pepped the area before them with sporadic disruptor fire. The Rihan were at the base of the small rise, not the best of positions perhaps, but they were spread out in prepared positions, waiting for the Hydrans who were emerging from the trees; down-slope of them perhaps half a kilometer away.

The Hydrans were occasionally visible as they moved forward and exchanged fire briefly, before disappearing back into the trees, ~Torch the trees! ~ John decided, ~ flush 'em out! ~

Beyond the Rihan, just visible in the dim light were the outline of buildings, the outskirts of some town that had obviously seen better days. Nearby buildings were gutted, or collapsed.

"Hey," he called out, trying to catch the attention of the troops below him, "Who's Vactus?" he asked loudly.

"Who's asking?" a voice floated up from below.

"The reinforcements you called!" ~ Jackass! ~ John thought sourly, ~ if you can call eight marines and two pilots' reinforcements. ~

Waiting and watching John gave a few orders, he had the pilots remain near the shuttle, one could try to get it at least flight worthy while the other could watch their backs. His people he spread out at the top of the small rise for now, but had them hold their fire. No sense advertising the extra firepower that had arrived until he knew what was happening.

~ Crazy messed up lousy planet! ~ He thought.

A few moments later there was a hiss from down the line and the Sergeant waved, indicating a figure that had just rolled over the top of the small rise and slid down the rear. Sliding down as well, John ran to meet the Romulan.

"You Vactus?"

Shaking his head the Romulan looked around, "Vactus died a few hours ago, where are the rest of your people Human? The Hydrans are massing nearby, we have to hold here or thousands will be cut off before they can evacuate!"

"This is it; we're all that can be spared."

"Ten Starfleeters, only Ten! Just what do you expect to accomplish here. Vactus sent out a call for serious reinforcements. Surely you aren't that delusional to believe you can help us hold what might be an entire Battalion of Hydrans!" Looking disgusted the

Romulan indicated the shuttle, "you should call for more help here right now, we are going to need it!"

Raising his voice slightly, partly in anger and partly to be heard over the sound of weapons fire and explosions nearby, "Listen pal, we were sent 'cause all we got was a garbled transmission about you guys needing help, I got yanked out of one hell hole and sent to this one, got here, got shot down and now I can't leave! There is no-one else, there's more to this war that just this little piece!" ~ I need sleep! ~

"Listen to me 'human'," spitting the last word with venom and distaste, "this 'little piece' as you call it is my home! This is Romulus, and we will defend it with our lives. You treat it like some border world skirmish. Help us, or leave and make room for

someone useful."

~ Check the attitude pal! ~ John thought, biting back the initial angry retort that sprang to mind, though in part he could see where the Rom's anger was coming from, this was pissing him off seriously as well ~ Where's the fucking fleet! ~

Plus a couple of weeks of relentless combat stress was enough to drive anyone up the wall. "Look pal, right now this is it, there's nothing else, no-one else. I'd love to see a bunch of Mk IV Titan tanks come floating over the hill, or a thousand heavily armored

marines, but no, they're busy or dead. So, we get to make do. 'k!"

Shaking his head the Romulan turned and began to walk back the way he had come, "Make do! Make your excuses to someone who cares human, very soon several hundred Hydrans with armored support will come out of that forest. How do you propose we stop them with only fifty six people and no heavy artillery?"

~ A good question... ~ John had to admit to himself wishing the shuttle had been armed, that might have helped.

~ Yeah, so would a Galaxy class starship! ~

"Look, I don't have any easy answers, maybe we can use some of the fuel elements from the shuttle and rig a couple of bombs, plant them and fall back..." he started to explain, trying to think over the occasional explosion from the other side of the hillock or the weapons fire that seemed to drill into his teeth whenever the Romulans fired.

"Bombs! Your great idea is to plant bombs, like the Hydrans will happily drive over them to accommodate you and your inane idea? I should have known better than to trust Humans, your people would like nothing better than to see us conquered. You who consort with the Klingons," spitting their name like the vilest curse in his language he waved his rifle single-handedly around him, "and so many other degenerate races; it has weakened you. Now we are next aren't we!" he declared, looking at John like he was a bug he had just found on his rifle scope.

~ Okay sports fans, its official; this guy's lost it completely! If he ever had it! ~

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