"Minding the Store"

Commander Brian Elessidil, Assistant Chief Counselor
Lieutenant Kimberly Burton, Chief Medical Officer
Lieutenant Michael Jamson, Chief of Operations

**** Bridge - Delta Shift ****

'How boring...' Jamsons' thoughts ran through his mind, while his fingers were dancing on the console. Even though the latest happenings of Romulus were over, the ship was already docked at Deep Space 5, with the entire crew far from being relieved from the ordeals it has gone through. The newly assigned Operations chief, only a couple of months, back on the old saddle, was still struggling to find the time for the extra work he had 'neglected'.

Instead of taking his time to rest on the 'dead' shift, otherwise known as delta shift, he had tons of work to attend to.

Being the operations Chief, Michael could have chosen what shift to take, but he decided to stay on Delta. It was a quiet shift, nothing much was happening, and thus he had more time for himself, to rest if needed, or ponder on personal matters. "His own private time" as he once told Karyn Dallas. But after all the commotion of the battle of Romulus, it seemed like, time stood still.

The feeling of relative calm, which almost felt more like numbness, had become a common feeling aboard the Galaxy. The feeling of excitement following his promotion had been fairly short-lived, and the after effects of the experience at Romulus had settled into Brian's mind as well. The Betazoid sensed what had been going through Lt. Jamson's mind and thought it might do some good for them all to talk about it a little.

"I don't think Delta shift's ever felt quieter than it does now," he said, leaving the command chair and moving to stand behind the Ops console where he gazed out into the darkness of space.

'What in the name of...' Jamson glanced backwards in surprise. Last time he checked, he didn't say anything out loud, which could only meant one thing, someone listened to his thoughts or was monitoring his mind. Probably a telepath of some sort, and Michael didn't like this one bit. If there was something worse than telepathic beings, it was counselors or doctors, and usually, they were the same.

Looking backwards again, he mumbled something unclear as he focused on the Commander. He had seen him before, and knew who he was, but never had the chance of actually interacting with him. Following orders and nodding were the primarily actions on the bridge when you didn't know the ones you've been with on your shift. "I guess so..." Jamson replied after thinking of Karyn. He hadn't seen her in quite awhile.

"Sorry, Lieutenant, I didn't mean to startle you," Brian said with a light chuckle. "I guess we're all a little jumpier than usual after everything. Were you here on the Galaxy during the encounters with the Hydrans?"

"That's alright" Jamson raised an eyebrow. A counselor that actually feels remorse and regret? That was a first. Michael had never encountered such a creature before. Astonished as he was, he still hesitated fearing an analyzing trap. "Yes I was. Unfortunately, I don't posses too much experience with the Hydran race", he continued with a sigh, while his mind acknowledged his idea with a simple word, 'pity'. They were supposed to be formidable warriors on the battlefield.

Arriving on the bridge just as the Hydrans were mentioned Kimberly's eyes snapped to the viewscreen, worried for a moment that her hopefully uneventful, and wholly unwanted duty shift here was going to turn into something even more unwanted. Seeing nothing more than the planet below, and no red alert warnings she relaxed a little and walked over to Commander Elessidil and nodded politely as she approached, "Commander, apologies for my tardiness, I had to stop by sickbay," she explained simply, "is everything ok?"

"All seems well enough so far, Doctor," he amicably replied. "Lieutenant Jamson and I were just musing on how dramatically quiet it is in comparison to the past few weeks. How about sickbay? I'm sure you saw more than your share of commotion too."

Logging onto the duty log Kimberly nodded slowly, "More than enough," she replied softly, "and there's still a couple of patients awaiting transfer," she added, thinking about some of the long term critical cases that were only now stable enough to be transferred off ship and back to more dedicated facilities. Sitting uncomfortably in the XO's chair she checked the ships logs for updates.

Jamson could only imagine the mess in sickbay during the fighting, and at these times, he was glad not be a commanding officer anymore. For too long in his career, from his days as a young officer to his fast meteoric rise through the ranks, he had watched his colleagues, commanding personnel and subordinates perish in the time of battle. So many names... all of those names, from the past and present, crew members, civilians. He wrote to so many families and recorded too many messages, while bearing the responsibility and burden of a high ranking officer. Such occasions turned his heart into stone, since he couldn't stand the grief.

"We have a rendezvous scheduled with the USS Aesculapius tomorrow," she said as she read the logs, "the critical cases will be leaving us then," looking up at Commander Elessidil she sighed, "how've you guys been?" she asked.

"Speaking for myself," Brian began as he returned to the command chair, "I'm just glad to be back on board." For better or worse, the Galaxy is 'home away from home'. And there's something to be said about the comfort of routine," he added as he reviewed some standard monitoring data from Engineering.

For once, sharing your feelings with others you don't know, seemed to Jamson, at times, more comfortable than with ones you do. As strange as it was, both the Commander and Chief Medical Officer made him feel more at ease than usual. "I guess I'm just content this whole hardship is over..." There were times when Michael longed for war, blood and action, however, this latest battle, and other events, changed his perspective. He was tired, and might even be, god forbids, frustrated. For a few seconds he stared at the console in front of him, ignoring the blinking lights of the LCARS system.

"You're in good company," Elessidil responded. "If anyone thinks otherwise, I haven't met them yet."

How true it was. The Galaxy always felt like home to Michael. There was no other place to offer comfort such as this ship, except, maybe his own command, and that was a big 'maybe'. He kept coming back for more, and that alone, said it all.

Silently nodding her agreement Kimberly sat in the XO's chair, watching the stars in the viewscreen before her for a moment, "I would hope we're all glad it's over," she said after a brief moment's silence, "and let's hope that's the last we see of combat of that magnitude for a while." Turning to face the other two she raised an eyebrow, "we can all hope the only combat we have to face is more food fights in the mess," she added with a wry grin, recalling the disheveled mess that had arrived in sickbay a few days ago.

"Heh, I'll take a volley of potatoes over torpedoes any day," Brian agreed with a smirk.

"Agreed, though the mess in ten-fore was apparently something to behold," chuckling a little she got up from the XO's chair, a little uncomfortable at being sat there and wandered over to join the others, "so what's happening here? Logs show everything's quiet, and I have to admit I haven't pulled a command shift in a while, what should we be doing?" Remembering that this was essentially her 'training' shift she decided to at least try and act a little enthusiastic.

"Mostly just minding the store," Elessidil answered, still engrossed in the latest reports from Engineering. "Making sure things stay quiet and addressing what doesn't. If you're bored, Engineering's going to be refitting some of the air purification systems tonight. Right up a doctor's alley, don't you think?" he said, glancing up to her with a wink and a smile.

Rotating in his comfortable ops chair, Michael remarked "I could use some fresh air, and not the recycling junk we're forced to breath, or any annoying medical examinations the comes along with it. I hope you're not offended, Doctor". Jamson made it clear he wasn't fond of physical checkups.

Coming to think of it, the veteran lieutenant hadn't filled the command chair himself for a long period time. Earning the most prized four pips in the past, and with the experienced Commander, they both were in the position to 'educate' Lieutenant Burton on handling the bridge, in command, during a shift.

"No offence taken," she replied with a grin, "I'm only too aware of how fond most of this crew are for their regular checkups. I think I might actually have to start offering incentives to some people to turn up one day, lollipops at least maybe." She deadpanned. "fresh air does also sound like a nice idea, but I'll pass on helping change the filters thanks, I get enough engineering practice fixing biobeds and tricorders."

"Out of curiosity, in the hopefully unlikely event that something actually 'did' happen while I was up here, would one of you like to tell me who flies this thing?" she asked, looking pointedly at the vacant conn position.

"That would be Lieutenant Selana," Brian answered, glancing from his reports to the open seat. "Since we're docked, she thought it would be 'logical' for her to spend her time re-calibrating the sensors in the navigation array, so she requested permission to spend the shift down there. Not much happening for helm up here, but I can handle it if need be."

Michael stared at the flight officer's position, thinking of the last time he actually had to use the helm. Vehicle Operations Department, back at the Academy, class 320 - Starship Helm Control. Students studied the physical dynamics of starship impulse and warp maneuvers, plus some navigation. Manual control of starship guidance systems and 3 dimensional thinking. Docking maneuvers, orbital positioning, tactical maneuvers. It was held in classrooms, using holographics simulations, taking place on the planets of Venus, Saturn and Phobos, where some of the Academy facilities existed. Eventually, you had to pilot real starships, putting the fear into students. And that was just a basic, mandatory course! Those who wished to continue in this path, had to undertake many advanced courses, for years to come. "I'll pass...." Michael said, reflecting back again.

"I can only handle shuttles, so I'm glad I don't have to." Kimberly admitted, while she had taken some of the basic piloting classes at the Academy, and was a qualified small vessel pilot, the thought of piloting something this big was a little daunting, there was so much more to think of and do.

"Speaking of which...I almost forgot. I'm sure you've all heard of the celebration event tomorrow, taking place at the station's promenade?" Jamson said cautiously and disrespectfully. "I trust you won't be going?", he slowly added. "I was appointed by 'Commander Iniara, to complete the list of attendees from the ship". He dared not say the name of the Admiral, lest she will appear and give him a lash through one of the closest turbolifts on the bridge.

"Yes, I heard the Captain mention it," Brian said, not surprised that the notorious commander of the station had commandeered its promenade for her own party. "I'm afraid I won't be joining in the festivities. I just received a summons this evening to greet the

Admiral in person at 0900," he said facetiously. "I'm really looking forward to that after being on bridge duty all night," he muttered.

"I have other duties," Kimberly said simply, thinking of the patient transfers that would be taking place, "so I have managed to decline." Not that she had really wanted to go anyway, the recent conversation with an Admiral who had turned out to be one of the 'Doves' of Starfleet had left her in a little confusion as to the changes in the fleet. Hawks and Doves, and the decision as to whether to stand and be counted as a Dove was one that she would soon have to answer.

"Some individuals are just lucky..." Jamson smiled for a nano second, before turning back to his console. He would have to come up with an excuse too. Exchanging reports with other ships in the area of the station, he understood not many would be there to congratulate the admiral for her birthday.

"Well I'm sure anyone who goes will have fun," Kimberly remarked, managing to avoid sounding too sarcastic, "I mean, what could possibly be more fun than cheering an Admiral who wanted to relieve the Captain of duty?" she asked

Brian chuckled lightly wondering if the captain was obligated to attend. For M'Kantu's sake, he hoped not; the poor man had been through enough lately.

"Reflecting Is Sometimes A Hard Thing To Do"

First Lieutenant Steven Jonas
Marine, USS Galaxy

(Occurs after Lashing Out and a few days before the events of the DS5 attack)

**** The Brig ****

Having been held within the walls of the Brig not a scant day before, Steven wondered if this might become a more permanent home. Not that he'd complain about it. There was nothing left for him anymore, just memories and her personal effects, and after what he had just learnt and then done, he knew he'd never look at her the same way again. Not that he'd ever get the chance to look at his wife again. She had died in his arms, and he wasn't going to ever see her again.

Looking back at his attack on the CAG, he realized he hadn't gotten anywhere as much pleasure from it as he had hoped prior to striking the Trill. It should have been obvious to him just why that was but his anger at Faylin's deception had blinded him to the truth of the matter; that Corran Rex had had nothing to do with her hiding the truth from him. He had not done anything to make her betray his trust. Had he seen that before he had struck him, he might have skipped the possible career ending move, yet as it stood, there was nothing he could do about it.

So he had spent yet another night in the brig. Another night with just the walls, and forcefield, and the annoying voice of that young blonde Armory woman bellowing to the guards for more magazines. That and her annoying habit of talking to herself when the guard left the room.

He knew once the new JAG, whom he had not yet met, had had time to settle in, the hearing into his actions would begin. He'd receive whatever punishment he or she would deem necessary. Steven had had a lot of time to think about what he had done, sitting alone long into the night, and he was willing to accept whatever punishment was deemed appropriate. Thinking of what had happened in the past few days, the preferable outcomes, to Steven at least, were drumming out of the corps or perhaps being transferred off the ship. The former did seem a little extreme given his actions, but either one of them would force him to leave the ship, to leave all the things, and people, that kept reminding him of Faylin and her betrayal of his trust.

Somehow though, he doubted that he'd be afforded such a wish. It would be too much to ask for. They'd probably demote him again, or possibly give him some time in the brig. Given the results of the cases against some of the Marines he had known in the past, the latter was the more likely option. But it all depended on how the CAG was feeling, that and how harsh the JAG felt like being.

And there wasn't anything he could do about that.

He hadn't slept again for the second night in a row. He had been up all night wondering just what could make her be so cold and heartless. To take her life was one thing, but blatantly deceive Steven by not being open and honest, as he had been with her from the start, well he had struggled to try and figure out why and had yet again come up blank. Rex likely wouldn't know. And he doubted anyone else would. The only one who would truly know was now dead.

Pulling the wedding band from his finger, he threw it with all his might at the forcefield, only for it to bounce back and smack him on the forehead. "Figures!" he said to himself as he rubbed the area it had hit. "Even in death she still gets the last laugh." Looking up at the ceiling, his eyes unfocused as he imagined himself looking up to the heavens, he shook his head. "I hope you're enjoying the pain you're putting me through. I hope you are getting a great laugh out of the results of your bitter and twisted handiwork."

Sighing, he slipped to the cot and tried to close his eyes. He tried to let sleep overcome him, despite the lights now being back on. Yet he knew it wasn't coming. He had too much pent up anger for that to occur. Anger at Faylin for doing this to him. Anger at himself for believing her when she said she loved him, when she said that she wanted to marry him. Anger at himself for stupidly believing that she wanted to change. That she wanted to settle down. He was a fool. Plain and simple. For that's what he felt for believing in Faylin and her lies.

It was obvious now. For almost a month and a half she had fooled him. Tricked him with her "I love you's" and her warm kisses. And he had fallen for it. She had betrayed everything he had held dear. Everything he had believed in. He had always been honest with her, from day one. He hadn't deceived her, he hadn't tricked her. He had always presented himself, never hiding anything away. Sure he knew her past was something she couldn't talk about, something that she needed to keep hidden, but being so heartless as to hide that she had slept with someone hours before saying she loved the half breed, was appalling. Had she ever been honest about anything? Or was it all a lie? Was it all a ruse to tease and twist him to her will; to see if she could screw with another's life?

"Jonas!" The guard called out.

Steven tilted his head back, to see a Security Officer standing at the forcefield. Seeing him from his vantage point, the man looked like he was standing on the ceiling, and despite Steven knowing that it was just the way he was lying on the cot, he smiled at how funny he looked. "Yeah?"

"Time to go." he said as the forcefield dropped.

"What? That's it?" Steven asked, not moving from the cot.

"You were only being held overnight to cool off. We may see you back here depending on what happens with your case. But for now, you are free to return to your quarters and your duties."

Steven nodded, unsure of what to say. That hadn't happened the last time he had been in the brig for striking a superior officer. He stood and stepped out the door, heading for the exit.

"Jonas!" The man called out again. "You forgot this."

Steven paused at the exit and turned to see the man holding the ring. Reaching out he snatched it from the mans hand and shoved it into his pocket. Turning he started the long slow trudge back to his quarters. He wasn't sure what to do anymore. Everything was gone. Everything he cared about anyway. Perhaps a visit to the Arboretum might help clear his mind and ease the anger that burned within.

"The Trill Connection" Part One

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - Assistant Chief of Engineering
&
Saia

(Set before Sleeping Giant begins)

***Location: Arboretum, USS Galaxy***

This ship was odd, Dhanishta decided at that moment. Sometimes it felt claustrophobic, a noose around your neck, never a place to be in peace, never a moment to yourself, never a time to be an anonymous face in the crowd. And then she stumbled upon the arboretum, and here inside this beautiful space that had seemed to miraculously survive the latest encounter, she found peace; for all of ten seconds.

As she walked down the small delicate meandering path through the trees she heard a soft sniffing. Dhanishta could almost hear the tears splash onto the dirt; she could certainly feel the sadness within. It matched her own.

Tenderly, Dhanishta crossed the grass to a clearing within the trees, following the sound of sadness, until she could see the owner of the tears.

A child, no more than ten or eleven, sat quite tranquil amidst the flowers upon a rock. She didn't seem to hear Dhani's approach, either that or she didn't care that a stranger saw her crying.

For a moment Dhani wondered weather she should intervene, she paused in her step taking a moment to reconsider. But alas, before she could make up her mind the girl turned around, and Dhani no longer had the option to adjust her course.

"Are you alright?" she asked tentatively.

Saia sniffed and wrinkled her nose a bit before replying, "Who are you?" If there was any indication she realized the woman was Trill, it didn't show.

Dhani took another step forward and crouched down so to be on eye level with the girl, "My name is Nishta." Dhani replied. It was interesting how that abbreviation of her name slipped out, there were only a few people that she permitted to call her that. She smiled softly at the girl, "What's your name?" she returned.

Saia looked at the woman suspiciously, "Why do you want to know?"

Dhanishta pursed her lips as she thought about an appropriate reply to that question. She shrugged, "It's common in greetings, I introduce myself and then you introduce your self." she paused at the icy stare, "Never-mind." she said with a wave of her hand.

"I came for the peace and quiet anyway." she continued gesturing to the habitat, "It's like a small oasis in the middle of a desert. Wish I had stumbled upon this place earlier, but its here now." She stood up and smiled softly at the scenery, "I finally find somewhere to just forget about life the universe and everything, and then I heard someone crying, saw you, put the two together…" she looked back down at the girl, "but you seem to be fine. So I'll be on my way."

Brushing down her pants from where she had knelt on the ground she once more smiled that breezy carefree smile that she had perfected and began to walk away.

"Do you know Nara?" Saia figured the don't talk to strangers rule was null and void so long as they weren't strangers to Nara.

Dhanishta whipped round, "That's where I know you from!" she exclaimed, "You're Naranda's little girl. I met you before, remember?" she asked returning to the girls' side.

Saia jumped a bit, moving back. Maybe the 'don't talk to strangers rule' applied ESPECIALLY if they knew Nara. "I am NOT her little girl. I just live here with her."

Dhanishta smiled softly. Her reply she kept to herself; for now at any rate. "So what you doing out here on your own?" she asked instead.

"It's the only place Nara says I can come to alone. Otherwise I have to be at Sam's or Jerik's or with some babysitter at home. Well, if Bran or Nara aren't there. All the adults on this ship are busy though."

Dhanishta nodded sympathetically, "Yeah, it gets like this from time to tome. Something big around the corner and everyone suddenly finds them selves pulling double shifts. If its any consolation, they are busy to make sure that you and the other civilians on this ship are safe." she offered.

"Then why are we on this ship?" It was something Saia considered. She understood Nara had a job, but how long WAS this job?

Dhanishta smiled softly, "I am on this ship because I chose to uphold the beliefs of the Federation. I believe in exploration, and I believe in protecting others. As for the others on this ship, the civilians, they are here because someone that they love is here, or for their own personal gain. As for you, why don't you tell me why you are here?"

Saia's mumble was barely audible, "Because one of these ships destroyed my home."

Dhanishta reached out and took Saia's hand, "Saia," Dhani said gently, "You…" she paused wondering how best to phrase what she wanted to say, what she felt she needed to say to the child.

"That's not a good enough reason to be here." she concluded, a little bluntly. Her tone was still soft, but her words… they left a lot to be desired. Dhanishta cringed slightly, and prayed that the girl wouldn't take it as coldly as it came out. For a moment she wondered if she should buffer it with something else, but as she looked into Saia's eyes she realized that even though she looked like a child, inside was something much older.

Saia grabbed her hand back and crossed her arms as she turned away. "Nara needed me."

"What about what you need?" Dhani asked, not realizing the question had slipped out until she had said it.

Saia shrugged, "I didn't have anyone else."

Dhanishta sighed softly and closed her eyes. "Do you like Nara?" she asked gently.

Saia looked at the woman like she was crazy, "Well duh! She's just being stupid or something right now."

Raising an eyebrow, "How so?" she enquired.

"She seems sad a-lot."

Dhanishta nodded slowly, contemplating if maybe she should say something to Nara. Pushing that thought aside as it wasn't her place to say anything, she looked back down at the child at her side, "You seem sad too." she stated.

"So?" Saia shrugged as if Dhani just said 'ooh a gnat'.

Dhanishta smiled slightly, "Maybe if you weren't so sad she wouldn't be either. Did you ever think of that?"

Saia didn't answer. She just plucked a leaf off a poor unsuspecting bush.

Dhani nodded to her self. Looking at this girl reminded her so much of herself. "You don't want to be happy." she said slowly, "You think that because of what happened, because of what you lost, you shouldn't be allowed to be happy. Is that right?"

Saia looked at Dhani as if she were crazy, "You sound like those counsellors. I still don't know what it means." A second later, Saia muttered, "tojo'Qa'"

"bIHnuch!" Dhanishta retorted rather quickly her eyes narrowing on the girl, "toH tIhIngan Hol DajathlaH 'e' DaneH'a'?" she asked looking at Saia. She could understand the child's frustration regarding the continuous hounding of counsellors. She had had her fill of them herself, been asked every question in the book and criticized by their analytical stares. She had also bitten off the hand that fed too, much like Saia was doing no doubt.

This girl was so much a reflection of Dhani it was scary. Anger; it was the only way Dhani knew, maybe it was the path Saia had to travel to unlock her emotions too. It was a pity this girl didn't realize how many people surrounded her that loved her and wanted to help. All the more to add to the suffocation, Dhanishta realised in retrospect of her own troubles. She sighed slightly, as the dawn of understanding washed over her like the sun over the mountains peak. She knew now.

"The Trill Connection" Part Two

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - Assistant Chief of Engineering
&
Saia

***Location: Arboretum, USS Galaxy***

Saia looked at Dhani having only understood bits and pieces of that. "I am NOT a coward!"

Dhanishta blinked at that comment. "Firstly if you are going to curse at me in a different language, pick one that I am not fluent in." she chided frowning, "Secondly if you are going to curse and there for insult me, expect a come back; that is a life lesson right there, remember it! Thirdly if you are going to hide from your feelings and emotions, refuse to connect with them or face them then *that* makes you a coward. And I am sorry if that came out a little blunt but I don't talk down to children, most want to be treated as an adult anyway, so there you have it!" she took a moment to breathe after that slight onslaught.

Saia just looked at the woman before her with an odd look and finally said, "You're crazy."

Dhanishta smiled, "More than you know." she replied with a wink adding a bit of humour to the conversation.

Saia looked around a bit and back at Dhani, "What are you doing here?"

Dhani followed her gaze, "Talking to you?" she replied, her tone questioning at the bizarre question.

Saia sighed exasperated. "Why did you come IN here?"

Dhani took a moment before she replied, while she mentally replayed the conversation, and yes she recalled that she had already mentioned why she had come in here, but that seemingly went unnoticed. So she decide to change her original reasoning, Saia hadn't remembered the original so she wouldn't question it. "I came in here because I knew you were here, and I knew that talking to you would be the highlight of my day." her lips curled up into a smile.

"Look Saia," she began brushing off the joking façade, "I know that you didn't intend to have this strange conversation from someone that you probably still class as a 'stranger'. And to be honest talking to you and enquiring about the reasons why you are sitting her alone crying was not on my to-do list either. But I am here, and you are, and we have talked and I am going to be honest with you, if I may?" she paused to actually get Saia's opinion.

Saia crossed her arms and just looked at her.

Dhanishta groaned inwardly, children were difficult creatures she realised. This nut would be hard to crack, but persistence wasn't futile, "You are a tough one." Dhani let the comment slip through her mild frustration. She turned to fully face the girl and crossed her legs. "I can see now why Nara is so sad." she added.

"Oh?" The sass was obvious.

"Saia, talking to you has opened my eyes, I see so much of myself in you." she confessed shaking her head with the weirdness of it all, "You are a very intelligent little girl, and much older than your years permit you should be." her tone and expression conveyed the sorrow she felt at seeing this child go through so much at such a young age.

She softened her tone more lowering her voice, "Saia, I was there too."

"Where?" Saia was curious and a bit offended anyone dare compare themselves to her. No one understood. No one understood what it was like to have your life ripped away in an instant and have to start all over when you barely understand what life was even about.

"I was on Trill when the ship crashed."

Saia's face contorted angrily as she fought the tears. She sniffed, defying them as she shrugged, "So?" The facade was hardly convincing.

Dhanishta smiled lightly but pushed on. She realized that she needed to talk about what happened, even if Saia wasn't ready to yet. It was strange talking to a child who she knew was in pain, pain so raw that if you touched it, it would bleed, and there was no bandage big enough to cover the gulf that loosing her whole family had left. But when Dhani looked down at the miniature next to her, she didn't see a child. She saw something more than that; the young lady that Saia was going to become.

"I don't remember the crash. I was in a hospital fifteen miles out of the capital. In a coma. When the ship crashed I had been in a coma for about eight months, going on for nine. My sister Kala had taken a sabbatical, leave, and stayed with me hoping that I would eventually pull through. She was there when the ship hit and the lights went out. She didn't tell me everything, but she didn't have to really." Dhani paused and looked down at Saia.

"You see when I was about your age my family moved from Vulcan to Trill. It was very different from the desert I grew up in. But I remember my father taking me on all the tours, my father is a Trill and my mother is a Betazoid." Dhani explained her half heritage quickly, "He was so excited to be showing me and my sister his home. He grew up in the capital, and he had tried out to be a host, as most young Trills do. I remember my first tour of the symbosis pools and the art galleries and the mud baths and, well the list went on and on. I was enrolled in a school in the capital; in fact you might have gone there too." Dhani paused again, the memory of her tour made her smile with nostalgia. But as that memory faded the image of once beautiful capital emerged in ruins, smoke clouds, homes, business; everything destroyed.

"It was about three weeks after the crash that I was," Dhani wondered how to put this next line, "proclaimed dead." she shrugged and claimed the leaf that Saia had been playing with earlier for herself. Talking about this was uncomfortable; she fully understood why Saia took it out on the bush!

"My internal organs had failed, as had my brain. And my mother came, for the first time since I had been in hospital, and told the nurses to switch off the ventilator that was keeping me alive." Dhani tried to smile, but like Saia earlier it was a smile to keep the tears away; which was futile as they had already began to fall.

She tried to speak again, but the tears caught her voice so for a time she just sat there in silence.

Saia gulped. She was also trembling. The memories and images flashed in her mind as if they had happened moments ago. Her brows twitched as she fought the onslaught of emotion. She put a hand on Dhani's arm.

Saia hung onto the only good memory of that time; when she saw and helped a woman in a cloak who wouldn't speak. She was there for Nara and she was here now for Nishta.

Whether she really knew it or not.

Dhanishta swallowed hard, feeling the slight chill from Saia's hand on her arm broke her teary stare. She smiled at Saia as a tear fell on to the child's hand.

"I was lucky enough not to loose anyone that was really close to me on Trill." she said slowly, "Really lucky." she emphasised. "But I have lost people that I loved Saia, so believe me when I tell you that I know it hurts. I," she stammered slightly, she had never told anyone on the ship about Chang, not even Michael. But Saia needed to understand that there were others around who had experience in loss. She needed to know that she wasn't the only one and that there was a future after grief.

"I was engaged to a man named Chang, back when I was in the Academy. I loved him with all my heart. Still do. The Brean attacked Earth, and the building we were in was bombed. He died in my arms… and to this day I haven't let him go. Not completely. I haven't dealt with the pain loosing him caused. I pushed it away. Just like I expect you're doing." Gently she moved her hand to cover Saia's that still rested on her arm.

"The first friend I made on the Galaxy, a woman called AhDjiia, she died too, shot and killed on an away mission." Dhani recalled that dark day with such a heavy heart.

"It was after that I decide there was no point making any friends. There was no point in letting my guard down, letting someone in, having them in my life if all that was going to happen was that they would die. I mean what's the point?" she gestured to the universe around them pausing at her rhetorical question.

"But it's a sad way to live." Dhani concluded solemnly, "I have spent several years with that mentality now, and it's only been recently that I have let anyone back in. And while I am still terrified of loosing them, I don't think that I could really say I was living my life before."

She tucked a loose strand of Saia's hair back into place and cupped her moist cheek her green eyes glimmered as she looked into Saia's, "I find it infuriating that they all want to help me in their own little way. They all think that they understand me. That they know what I'm going through or what my life is like. They seem to think that they know how I am feeling and that by talking to them will help…" she gave Saia an exaggerated expression of ludicrousness, she didn't need to finish that sentence; she already knew that Saia had experienced those things herself.

She smiled softly, "There are hundreds of people on this ship that know a lot more about loss than you or me. Hundreds more that have come to terms with their grief, have felt it and dealt with it. Pushing it away, ignoring it…. believe me…" she looked up to the 'heavens' to emphasise that point, "…only makes it worse. There are a lot of people on this ship that love you Saia, they all want to help you get through this difficult time. And I know its aggravating," she smiled and whispered, "I have walked out of many a counselling session before today I can tell you!"

"But at the end of the day the only person that can help you get through this, is you. You have to be ready and willing to accept the help that's around you and wise enough to ask for it. And I think you are. So just remember, when you're ready, just call, okay?"

Saia took her hand back to rub her eyes. She just picked a blade of grass as Dhani's words sunk in.

Dhanishta wasn't sure if this would be the right thing to do but she did it anyway. Inching closer to Saia she wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace.

Saia clung tight to the fellow Trill as if they were the last of their kind. She whimpered as she fought the sobs.

"Let it out Saia." Dhani said softly gently stroking the child's hair. A lump rose in her throat and her eyes burned, "Let it all out." she whispered again into Saia's main of hair as she pulled her trembling form closer.

Saia didn't have to be told twice as she cried, dampening Dhani's jacket.

"Mustering" Part One

Lt. Cmdr. Tarin Iniara, XO
Lt. Savant, Fleet Logistics Officer
Sergeant First Class Thral, Marine Demolitions
Lieutenant (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe, Assistant Chief of Engineering
Ensign David Walker, Navigation Officer
Lieutenant Junior Grade Jonathan DarkSky, Intelligence Officer
Turan Trelar, Civilian Engineer

************
Crew Lounge 13
Deck 21, USS Galaxy
0850 hours
************

Twelve hours.

In less than twelve hours, two Ambassadors had been abducted. The circumstances behind both abductions seemed different enough, which probably meant that they weren't related and neither one of them had directly involved the USS Galaxy.

Regardless, that didn't stop both incidents from becoming their problem.

Naturally, Olivia Proctor had demanded Galaxy speed off and apprehend the Orion pirates that had stolen one of her ships, abducted a few dozen Federation citizens (including one of the aforementioned ambassadors, a Damiani by the name of Tyr'alla J'aeln), and caused serious amounts of damage to her precious station. But then a second call had come in only hours later, ordering Galaxy to speed off elsewhere and apprehend whoever had abducted the other ambassador: a Borg designated Three of Five, snatched from the private offices of none other than Admiral Price himself.

Orders from Starfleet Command were clear and carried with them the full force of some very high-ranking and influential Admirals. There was little that the lone Rear Admiral Proctor could do about that save grumbling and stewing and plotting Daren M'Kantu's demise (again). Whether she wanted it to happen or not, Galaxy would be soon departing for Barzan to retrieve the wayward Borg.

However, there was still one problem facing Galaxy's captain. When they made their escape from DS5, the pirates had abducted several Starfleet personnel, including several members of Galaxy's crew. M'Kantu didn't want to just leave them behind, to await an uncertain rescue whenever Proctor got around to it. But at the same time he couldn't send a team of his own.

Well, not officially.

"Assemble a team, volunteer only, keep it unofficial," he'd told his first officer, unofficially ordering her to head up an unofficial extraction team during an equally unofficial late-night meeting. So, not having a lot of time in which to assemble said team, Iniara had quickly scanned the files of a great number of junior officers and non-department heads, trying to pick out a handful of reasonably dependable personnel from various departments who weren't too vital to their departments, yet weren't complete screw-ups either.

She'd found about 15 people that fit the bill, and had sent each one of them a simple message, marked urgent. The text of the message was nothing more than this: "Your participation in an off-ship training exercise of a slightly unconventional nature would be most appreciated. If you are interested, please report to Crew Lounge 13 at 0900 hours."

It was 0855 now. Tapping one finger nervously against the padd she was carrying, Iniara paced slowly around the room, wondering who, if anyone would show.

She didn't have to wait long. The doors admitted Lieutenant Savant with little fanfare beyond the typical rushing whisper. She was a noticeable figure moving between the chairs. A tall Mediterranean-looking woman with long black hair and an immaculate uniform; she seemed taller and more imposing by the look of supreme confidence that lingered on her face.

Iniara met Savant's eyes as the woman (?) approached. She knew that Savant wasn't human at all, it was an android. Just as in the biography photo, however, there was no obvious hint of this - even her eyes were human. The android smiled briefly under scrutiny. "Ma'am. I don't believe we've met yet. Call me Savant."

"Welcome, Lieutenant. Thank you for coming," Iniara replied, a smile covering the bit of uneasiness she felt in being unable to sense anything from Savant. She'd grown so accustomed to the feeling that its absence sometimes unsettled her.

Moments later, a stocky older Tellarite marine entered the room with the usual swishing of the doors...and an oink? It would have been unusual enough for him to be here alone, going on a fleet exercise. It was extremely unusual that he would get the call at the last minute while taking the small pink and brown pot-bellied pig for a walk. Artie trotted obediently along looking way too prideful of himself. Looking up at the person he recognized only as the Galaxy's XO, Thral said in his rarely used apologetic tone, "I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't have time to take him back to my quarters. Sergeant First Class Thral, marine demolitions at your service. Oh, and this here is Artie, I'll keep him quiet ma'am."

Artie let out a short squeal as he was introduced as he made a motion that would resemble the pig snapping to attention. The android who stood beside the stout Tellarite smiled and crouched downwards to look closer to the pig and patted its head, commenting in a cheerful tone, "Why, isn't he cute? And a clever one."

"I like to think so, though a few people find him annoying. I love him though." Thral replied while Artie started sniffing the android, his snout moving up and down her leg like a tricorder scanning. A moment later though it wasn't quite so cute.

The doors once more slid open, prompting the small pig to emit a squeal of fright and retreat to the limit of his leash in the opposite direction of the door before the person entering had even crossed the threshold. Victor paused, frowned in the direction of the small animal, and continued into the room, stepping to one side to allow the animal room to continue circling to stay as far away from him as possible. That unfortunately meant that he was not going to be able to position himself outside the range at which he was likely to affect the sentient members of the meeting - particularly the XO with her Betazoid heritage - but he judged that they were less likely to squeal like... stuck pigs... because of it. "Commander, Lieutenant, Sergeant," he acknowledged in turn with nods to each. "Lieutenant Krieghoff reporting for training assignment as requested."

"Artie, heal!" Thral shouted hoarsely at the pig as it started squealing at the security Lieutenant's appearance. Artie squealed a protest that sounded strangely like 'hell no'. A moment later he got some idea as to why when Victor walked past and a weird and creepy vibe came over him as if the cloak of the grim reaper himself brushed by his leg. Thral of course had heard about this "Lt. Death" before, though that didn't stop him from shaking off the effect and reeling in the pig like a fish and after one more oink in protest it settled down next to Thral's chair.

Savant nodded at the Lieutenant in return, but already her mind turned in its circles and patterns. Something was different about this one. The records on his unique stature didn't do it proper justice. Proximity - to her android? - had an amplifying effect. What was this about, some sort of unusual Heisenberg-observer's reaction? Or perhaps it was unconsciously controlled by the Lieutenant and directed at what he believes to be acceptable recipients? Interesting. She scanned passively and watched.

"Good morning, Mr. Kreighoff." Iniara managed another smile, while at the same time strategically moving herself away from the man. Every time she thought she had learned to control her unconscious reaction to Kreighoff's eerie aura, he'd show up and she would realize that she wasn't even close to mastering that particular skill.

A moment later, yet another one of the officers contacted by Iniara arrived. David Walker shivered a little while passing through the doorway, feeling a sudden wave of coldness and dread wash over him as he entered the crew lounge. Was the ship haunted and someone forgot to tell him?

He quickly clamped down on the feeling, whatever it was, and offered the group before him a nod. "Ensign Walker reporting...in," he said, his voice shrinking a little as his eyes settled on Krieghoff. David cleared his throat and looked away from the creepy security officer, and started making his way to a seat away from him.

Walker paused, however, when he noticed the pig at the other end of the room, and finally he decided to compromise. He sat down exactly in the middle of the room, both as far away from either of the two as he could get and as close to them as he was willing to be.

Turan entered the crew lounge and took a quick glance at the giant clock opposite the entrance ... 0858 - just in time. The tall Quentite rearrange his pip-less uniform and searched for a group that looked like a bunch of volunteer for an off-ship exercise. How did volunteers for an off-ship exercise look like? How did volunteers look like? A bunch - that was quite easy. There was only one crowd of crew mates waiting in the lounge area and account the fact it was two minutes to deadline the chance they were where he was expected to report in. "Excuse me, ma'am" he addressed Iniara, the one with the most pips at her collar and the only face he knew. "Turan Trelar - I was offered to take part in an off-ship exercise. So here I am."

Words of Federation standard were such a beautiful weapon - especially in the mouth of someone who wasn't expected to be very familiar with them. "Awaiting further offers," he added.

"Good to have you, Mr. Trelar. Please, have a seat." She gestured at the table around which the other members of the team were congregating, then glanced at the wall-mounted chrono. Two minutes left, and the turnout so far wasn't that bad.

Jonathan DarkSky found himself to be one of the last of the personnel to arrive. Already several had gathered together, and short of the XO, he surmised that he knew more about the possible objectives of their clandestine operation than anyone present. Sometimes being in the Intelligence department was a burden - all of the nifty tidbits of information one could never divulge without getting into some serious trouble. At times like this, it could possibly turn out to be a mixed blessing. His departmental specialties lay in Visual and Field Intelligence, but that was just for the paperwork. Having lived 8 centuries - in this singular body, not as the adopted memories of various hosts such as a joined trill, too much information was lost as the symbiont couldn't possibly retain all of the information contained within the host neural pathways - Jonathan was known within his department as a Joat.

Jack Of All Trades.

8 lifetimes worth of experience. Engineer, pilot, bodyguard, marine, captain, go-fer (go fer this, go fer that) "Free Trader," "Gentleman of Fortune," and even a doctor once. Many of those skills were lacking to some degree than others, though he did what he could to keep them as up to par as he could. That made his analysis of what position he would fill on the possibilities of this expedition quite intriguing, for he could be any number of things. What he didn't want to do was lead it. Oh, heavens no. Captain the ship, perhaps. Overall command? Definitely not.

Having entered and allowing the doors to shut behind him he approached the group. "One Jonathan DarkSky, reporting in: highly appreciated." A bit of humor, perchance?

Iniara suppressed a chuckle as the El-Aurian made his way over. "Yes, quite," she replied dryly, making her way back to the lounge's entrance. As the chrono clicked over to 0900 she turned and tapped a key sequence that would lock the lounge's only door. Couldn't have people interrupting their unofficial meeting, after all.

"Thank you all for coming," she began, meeting eyes with each person (and pig) at the table. "Well, shall we begin?"

"Run over by a truck"

Commander Brian Elessidil
CMC Madden Jayce

---

She opened her eyes slowly to a very familiar sight. DS5 had, like its more famous sibling, been designed by the Cardassians, but a sickbay ceiling was a sickbay ceiling, and that was exactly what she was looking at now.

The sight was as familiar as the feeling of numbness that coursed through her body. She knew what this was -- telepathic inhibitors mixed with a healthy dosing of tranquillizers and anti-anxiety medications, a cocktail familiar to any "dangerously strong" Betazoid.

"I am so horribly embarrassed," she murmured, raising a hand to her head, bangs pressed between her fingers. "You cannot breathe a word of this to anyone. I have a reputation to protect."

"Be glad your head's intact -- worry about your reputation later," Brian said, smirking. He'd been standing nearby for the hour or so she was out waiting for her to come to. "How do you feel -- other than embarrassed?"

"How do you think I feel?" she asked, looking at her friend. "Doped up and headachey..." She sighed. "At least it's quiet right now. What was happening? Are... are you okay?"

Brian smiled, "I'm fine. A couple medics came by, they woke me easily since I wasn't really out, but they were concerned about you. I explained what happened and we came here; I carried you. By the way, you might want to start laying-off the cheesecake," he said with a snicker to lighten the mood a little, but then continued without waiting for a response. "I've been hearing some of what's been going on. There was a series of explosions in several places on the station and they said all docked ships have been fused to their ports. I'd say whoever was behind this had it well thought-out."

"It's all muscle," she said, "I've been working out." She cleared her throat, looked out, around raising a hand to get a nurse. "Can I get some water? My throat is scratchy..."

The woman smiled. "Of course -- and I'll have a doctor come by and see you."

Madden returned the small smile, nodding softly, before looking back to Brian, sighing. "I'm tougher than I look, B," she said, reaching, touching his arm softly with her bent knuckles. "I've been dealing with this since I was a little girl. I can usually handle it; I was just a little... I drank more than I should have and I wasn't expecting-- it does funny things to my control, you know?"

"Scenes like that can be overwhelming for all of us," he said, referring to Betazoids in general, "but you're pretty unique, Mad . . . and I mean that in every sense." The counselor smiled tenderly at his friend, glad that it didn't appear she had sustained any lasting injury. "But you're still mortal, you know. You're allowed to admit that."

"Mmm," Madden replied. "Unique." She raised one eyebrow as she turned her head, looking back up at that beautifully, well-decorated ceiling. "I should be in the loony bin several times over." She smirked. "Any idea when I can get out of here?"

"Not too long, Chief," the doctor said, appearing and handing her a cup of water as he motioned for her to sit up. "How're you feeling?"

"Okay, all considering."

"You had quite the scare, there," the doctor said, looking at Brian. "Maybe he should--"

"It's fine, Brian's my family," Madden replied, smiling softly. "What's...?"

The doctor still hesitated, but then took a seat. "The over stimulation of your cortex is more than a little disconcerting, Chief. You're a P11 level psychic. Most of your level--"

"Are insane. I know. I had the training."

"Training can only take you so far," the doctor said. "As you age, it's only going to get stronger and you're nearing the point--"

"I know," Madden said. "I go in during my leave every six months. I do it by the book, Doctor, I just got careless. I had too much wine, was too comfortable, and happened to be somewhere I have pretty horrible remembrances of, so when... I was a little vulnerable. It won't happen again."

"You still might consider regular medicinal treatments."

"I'll think about it. May I leave?"

The doctor stared at her for a long, tense, silent moment, then nodded, looking down at his PADD. "Fine. Yes, I'll just need your thumb-print and you can go." She offered her thumb, pressed it against the PADD, and threw her legs over the edge of the biobed, standing carefully. "Chief, think about it."

She glanced over her shoulder, before taking Brian's arm and moving toward the exit.

As they left the sickbay, Brian kept silent for awhile, not sure what to say. Even when you were talking as a friend it was hard to get anyone to disassociate you from the counselor role. If a counselor was what Madden needed, that was her business. She was one of his few close friends and he wanted that line to stay clear.

"He has a point," he finally said. "I don't know that I'd be any more thrilled about it than you, but that doesn't make it any less valid."

"Starfleet's just scared," Madden said, looking at Brian. "Everyone knows that most P9 Betazoids are a little off; more than 90% of P10s are next to incapacitated without drug therapies, or at the very least they're criminally insane. And at my level?" She raised an eyebrow. "I should be closer to a drooling mess than a contributing member of society. Even with my training. So because of that, they don't know what to expect, and they're worried about what I might be able to do."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Scared. Of what you could do?"

"No. I know what I can do. I learned that in the POW camp. How do you think I survived it?"

"But like the doctor said, it's going to get...more intense," he said, purposely choosing not to say "worse" because he didn't consider Madden to be ill in any sense; she just had very unique abilities. "What are you going to do when even you can't control it anymore, assuming such a time comes?"

"Kill myself," she replied, moving out to the promenade. People in gold engineering and operations uniforms were slowly clearing debris and putting things back together, their small plasma torches and saws mangling with the traditional sounds of a promenade.

"That's not funny," Brian responded, sounding a little more serious than usual. He stopped and looked at her. "Madden, look, if there's something you can do now to prevent things from getting to that point, isn't it worth considering?"

"I'm not being funny." Madden turned to look at him. "I've thought about it since I was a little girl at the school. When everyone was telling me where I would be by the time I was thirty. I thought about it then, and when I went to the academy, and when I was in that fraking prison on Cardassia. When I discovered small opportunities to survive and took advantage of them." She cleared her throat. "You know as well as I do that the drugs are only a temporary solution. I really don't want to talk about it."

"This is about control, isn't it? It's not the drugs or the potentially dangerous nature of your abilities-- it's you and your need to feel like this is all under your control, no matter how illusory that may be. You've dealt with it since you were a child, you survived as a POW, and you know as an adult exactly what you're going to do every step of the way, up to and including your own death. But it's the fact that a possibility's been suggested that's not of your initiation, not in your plan; that bothers you the most." He kept his voice calm, but he was clearly irritated by Madden's obstinacy.

"Thank you for the psychoanalysis, Brian, but you need to just leave me alone on this one." She moved away, brusquely, toward the far turbolifts and, presumably, the docking pylon that Galaxy was fused to.

Brian remained behind for a moment, reining in his frustration. Yes, she knew more about her situation than he did; she'd lived through every day of it so far. But sometimes being in the middle of something was the worst vantage point; from there it was too easy to decide that you could see everything and discount all other possibilities and perspectives.

"This isn't psychoanalysis," he said stiffly, pissed at being accused of exactly what he was trying not to do. Maybe he wasn't as good at separating the role of counselor from the role of friend as he would have liked. "It's observation, and I'm sorry if you don't like what I'm seeing. If you-" He cut himself off, his lips taut as he looked anywhere but at her for a moment. His rational side told him if he pushed this too far she'd never listen to him at all. Maybe it was best to leave her on her own on this one; after all, she'd gotten this far that way.

He walked to where she stood, passing by her into the lift as the doors opened precisely when he got there. "Docking bay," he muttered to the lift, his tone and body language reflecting the effort he was using to keep himself under control. "Alright, never mind."

"Thank you. It's been a long day, Brian; I don't want to fight with you. And I'm running silent right now. That always puts me a little off kilter."

He understood that, remembering the first time they'd talked face-to-face in his quarters after they'd been left telepathically silent following the departure of the Dithparu. Brian sighed, his frustration at himself mixing with his frustration at her.

"I wonder where Andy ended up," he said flatly, though thankful something had come to mind to break the ensuing silence.

"I'm sure he's around somewhere. Andy's a pretty resourceful guy. I don't think we really need to worry too much." A pause. "Did you like him?"

"He seemed a decent enough guy, I guess, for what little opportunity we had to talk."

She nodded. "I guess that's true. I hope the Galaxy's okay."

Just then, a general announcement came over the station's comm system: =^=All officers and crew of the USS Galaxy report to your docking bay for imminent departure. Repeat, all crew of the USS Galaxy report for imminent departure.=^=

Brian looked at her, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Guess we'll find out."

"First Impressions"

First Lieutenant Steven Jonas, Marine
Lieutenant (jg) Juliette Rinali, JAG

(Occurs a few hours before the DS5 attack and prior to the Faysmell series)

****
Main Recreation Promenade, Upper Habitat
Ring Deep Space Five
****

Steven stood amongst the various guests. He wasn't sure why he had been chosen to go, and had even tried to decline, but here he was, mingling with the other guests. Though to the trained, and even untrained, eye, you couldn't call his standing off to the side eyeing up the alcoholic beverages with an eager eye as mingling with others.

That he was still hurting that Faylin was dead was an understatement. It had been why he had tried to decline. He wasn't in a partying mood and doubted he ever would be. But the Marines were asked to provide a few representatives for the party. Hence his being at the event. Most of the people he could see were naval personnel, and it chilled him that they were all celebrating someone's birthday (even an admirals) when they had done nothing to remember those that had died to protect the station and the worlds nearby from the eventually Hydran invasion of the Federation.

Taking a sip of orange juice from the glass in his hands, he sighed. Though he had been looking at the more 'serious' drinks, he knew he couldn't go back there. He wasn't going to back to it's warm, loving embrace. Turning, he looked out the window as several ships floated about. The Nova lay coupled to the station to the lower right while the Galaxy, if he got his bearings right, was on the other side of the station docked. It all looked so peaceful as he gazed out the window.

"Hi." Jules stated quietly. She was dressed in a dark blue dress with a short skirt, Japanese in style with her hair pulled back up at the sides, secured with two ornate wooden sticks. This particular style, set her Trill markings off beautifully. In her hand, the glass flute held a light amber liquid that helped to squelch her nerves. She knew all too well who he was, and he looked terribly lonely. With her free hand, she offered it to him in greeting. "Lt. Juliette Rinaldi....JAG for the Galaxy. You are?"

To say that he got the shock of his life to find such an attractive blonde woman coming to talk to him was an understatement. But nonetheless, Steven took her offered hand in his, shaking it firmly, but gently at the same time. That she was here to take over Faylin's job sent a spear of pain through his body. It was yet another reminder that she was gone. "First Lieutenant Steven Jonas, Marine with the Galaxy." he said in response.

"Ah, Steven Jonas. It's a pleasure to meet you." She tilted her head slightly to the side as her southern drawl was nice to listen to. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Not particularly. I'm not in the partying mood." Smiling slightly, he asked her the same question.

Her face dropped a little. "I'm sorry....I'm having an alright time. It's odd being the new crew member." She paused for a moment. "You look like you have a lot on your mind Lt. Jonas...."

"My wife took her own life a short while ago and as such, I do indeed have a lot on my mind." He returned, as he sipped the juice again.

Rinaldi's face softened, she had the worst urge to reach out and comfort him, to tell him that she was here...in more ways than one. "Would you like to go somewhere and talk?"

"Yeah, sure. It's not like the party is going to fall on it's face without me."

"We are in the same boat then Lt. May I call you Steven?"

Steven nodded.

"Thank you." She blinked slowly. "Were would you like to go?"

"Anywhere but here." Steven replied. "How about one of the other Promenades?"

"That sounds fine. I wished I could offer you some comforting words Steven.....however, I don't want to say anything that sounds....odd." 'Damn it.' She thought as she studied him. He had lost weight, his eyes hollow, lost, lonely. It was all she could do not to hug him.

"Odd..." Steven repeated. "I've heard all sorts of odd things in the past few days, from all sorts of people. I doubt anything you could say would be any worse."

"I don't know about that." Her eyes slightly held the overwhelming emotion that she was required to contain within her. 'Just look at me Steven.' Jules thought.

Steven looked over at the beautiful Trill woman. No disrespect to her, for Steven assumed that she was a great woman, but God how he wished it was his Fay standing before him and not the newcomer. "Shall we?" He said gesturing towards the turbolift.

"Yes." She followed him to the lift, and as the doors closed, Rinaldi turned her full attention on Steven. Perhaps, just maybe if he took a good look at her, she could reveal who she was with just a look. It was the way lovers that really knew each other communicated, by their eyes. However, it was not working. "You loved your wife very much, didn't you?"

It is said that one look can reveal a great deal about a person, could even show you that the person before you was actually someone else, someone you longed for but thought dead, but whether it was the tear rimmed eyes, or the knowledge that she took her life without any real explanation, he didn't see the look Juliette gave him; the look that should have told him that it was Faylin deep down inside the body of the gorgeous blonde beside him. Perhaps it was that he firmly believed she was dead. Either way, Steven nodded in response to her question. "I loved her greatly. Still do. Can't get her out of my head."

"I had a husband. He died recently.....on Romulus." Lie...God, was it a lie. However, it let her express herself, to show her tears towards him and tell him that she still felt. "So, I know. I know what you have gone through. I'm going through it myself. The pain is unbearable at times. It feels like your heart has been ripped out from your chest, and no one understands."

Steven nodded again. She knew the feeling well, yet with him it was more. She hadn't just died on some foreign planet, but in his arms after poisoning herself. "I'm sorry for your loss. You have hit the feelings I'm going through on the head. Yet for me it's much more than just that. Way more." Oh to only hold Fay in his arms once again. To cherish her the way she aught to be, yet he knew it was never gonna happen; She was dead.

"If I could just spend one more night with him, you know?" 'Oh, the pain....' Jules thought. He was right there damn it.....she could even smell his colonge, and not do anything about it. Her hands started shaking violently. She just wanted to hold him....hold him....he was within mere inches of her. His touch would calm her....yet it was not possible. Her breathing grew ragged as her hands continued to shake. "I'm sorry......." Bringing her her shaking hand up, she wiped waway a tear that had made a trail down her cheek. She wanted to release her inhibitions concerning Steven, but he would likely just shrink back in fear.

Steven turned to Juliette. "What do you have to be sorry about? Grieving is a natural process." Good god. He was sounding more like a counsellor than a Marine and it frightened him.

"It's just difficult." Jules stated quietly.

Steven nodded. "I didn't mean to bring memories of him to the surface for you." He wanted to reach out and lay a comforting hand upon her shoulder but decided against it. Though she was hot, he didn't want to seem like he was coming on to her. Faylin had been gone such a short time and he wasn't ready to move on. Even if that's what everyone kept saying was the best thing to do.

Steven stopped along side the new JAG at the top of one of the promenade balconies. The hustle and bustle of people going about their business simmered below as the duo stood at the railing. Noises galore, various languages, the clinks of objects, the sound of business at it's finest, the smells of the people, and their wares wafted upwards. "How do you get by each day?" he stopped, realizing that he hadn't explained himself well enough. "I mean, with memories of your lost love assailing you all the time, how do you get by? Cause I've been finding it very hard."

She turned to him as they meandered to the closest transporter padd. "I don't get by Lt. Jonas. He haunts me...every where I go. And, in a way, it's comforting because I still feel him. It's as if he's right beside me. However, what I fear most is the day he starts to fade from my memory. That's, when I'll start to worry."

Nodding to the transporter chief as they stepped up on their respective padds, she glanced over at him before speaking. "USS Galaxy" She paused, turning her attention to Steven. "I know that it's hard, but I also know that she still loves you, and thinks of you often, where ever she is." And with her finishing word, the two dissapeared into thin air.

(OOC: Backpost to before the DS5 attack. Sorry. ~_~)

"Bad Dreams, Worse Reality"

Lt. Cmdr. Tarin Iniara
Executive Officer

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief Intelligence Officer

************
Intelligence CIC, Deck 8
0754 hours
************

It was almost 0800 by the time Iniara made it to the Intelligence Offices, which was sad in a way because they were on the same deck as her quarters. Then again, there was no real point in showing up at 0500 if the ship's CIO was probably still asleep in his own quarters. So she had waited, biding her time until she was sure Lieutenant Bental would be around.

Stepping inside, Iniara noted with amusement that several screens within the central office immediately went dark, the computer automatically sensing that she didn't have high enough clearance to see what they were displaying. A cadet stood at the entrance, scrutinizing her. He recognized her quickly, and flanked her without a word. She shook her head, chuckling as she headed back to the Chief's office. The door was closed, so she rung the chime and then stepped back, waiting patiently.

"Enter."

Saul stood as soon as Iniara's fiery hair appeared at the threshold. "Oh, Commander!" He proclaimed, maintaining formality for Cadet Lennem's sakes. "Good to see you."

"Likewise, Mr. Bental," she replied, stepping inside the room.

With a wave of his hand, Saul hinted the cadet that it was probably safe to leave the ship's XO in his 'custody'. Lennem nodded and retreated.

"What brings you to the CIC, Iniara?" Saul asked as the doors closed.

"Saul, I need a favor," Iniara stated, sliding into the nearest guest chair. "No doubt you know of the attempt on Praetor Hitan's life, and the security footage of the event that was leaked to the public news feeds."

"Not just the public ones." Saul confirmed as he leaned toward the small replicator, pressing on the buttons. He, of course, knew what Iniara's favorite beverage was.

"I need to see the whole thing, but it's above my security clearance. But if there's one person on board Galaxy that can access the file, it's you," she explained, gratefully accepting the proffered drink: raktajino, extra sweet.

"Actually, I believe Captain M'Kantu also has clearance to the same version I have." Saul noted. In fact, he was given the full feed and some appended intelligence items related to the murder. The batch was sent to him and a handful of other key intelligence officers stationed closed to ch'Rihan by an SFI Commander aligned with Vice Admiral Sindar. Saul had a pretty good idea as for why the hawk-opinionated admiral delivered this information to their hands.

Saul had enough control of his body language not to shift uncomfortable in his chair. "I'll show you what I got, I owe you that much and more. But... it puts me in a rather uneasy situation. May I ask why it is so important for you to see the footage?"

"I have this...hunch." She hesitated, deciding to withhold the part about the nightmares for the time being. "It's a bit hard to explain."

Saul arched his brows slightly. He knew Iniara well enough to assume that she had a solid reason behind her desire to see the footage. She didn't strike him as a person who acts on whims, or as someone who would call on a favor from a friend just to satisfy her curiosity.

"Not convinced, eh?" She smiled. "Okay. It's weird, but...I think...I don't think it was Curran that did it. Killed the Praetor I mean." She was staring off into space, her eyes seemingly fixated on some point on the wall, one hand gesturing before her as she tried to put her thoughts into words. "I mean, it may have been him...his body, but something else was at the controls."

She sighed, dropping her hand into her lap. "I told you it was hard to explain."

"We don't know enough about Kelvan physiology, or Kelvans." Saul admitted. "And frankly, I don't know the man enough, either."

"True." Iniara agreed, wanting to say more.

He swiveled in his chair, activating the secondary set of eavesdrop jammers as well as the office's holographic projector.

"If anyone asks, say we've discussed the implications of Curran's capture. Here... OK, I'm warning you - this is not easy to watch."

Iniara knew the first part of the video well; she had watched it over and over since the nightmares had started, and knew almost every word of the Praetor's speech by heart. But as the footage continued to roll, as the glossy black tentacles suddenly appeared from nowhere and began tossing the Rihannsu officers around like sticks, she found she couldn't turn away. Iniara could do nothing but stare in stunned silence, her body frozen to her seat by a combination of fear and the realization that this was almost the exact same scenario she had dreamed over and over, night after night. She couldn't help but flinch as she watched the creature bound fully into view, leaping on top of Hitan's body, reaching for the man's arms, twisting the limbs, cracking the bones...

And then slamming its sharp beak into the Praetor's chest, tearing chunks of flesh and tossing them deftly into its mouth, green blood splattering everywhere. The creature kept going, tearing and chewing, until finally the heart had been torn from its place and the man lay dead beneath its massive bulk. Iniara brought her hands to her ears as the creature let out its last high pitched shriek, a terrible sound that seemed to contain equal parts anger and agony. She then watched in utter disbelief as the thing twisted and shrunk, returning once more to its humanoid form, a nearly catatonic Kylar Curran, shivering and convulsing on the floor. Rihannsu rushed in from somewhere off camera, and then the recording ended, the image of the Rihannsu soldiers midway through the act of hauling Curran to his feet frozen on the screen.

Several seconds passed before Iniara spoke. When she did, her voice was quiet, unsteady. "That...that is the true form of a Kelvan."

"Our own vice-legate."

"Prophets," she breathed, reaching for her raktajino. The act of sipping from her drink would give her a few seconds to collect her thoughts, to determine if her initial hunch had been at all correct. Perhaps this was the real face of Kylar Curran; perhaps his human form was nothing more than a façade, a cover for his true purpose.

"I thought the Kelvans couldn't shift between forms without a great deal of effort," she asked at last, meeting Saul's eyes once more.

"I don't know. I admit I don't know much about them in general."

He gestured at the frozen image on the screen. "Ever since THIS happened, several 'thinking groups' back at HQ try to analyze what led him to that. Some say the Kelvans instructed him to do it. I doubt it, unless they wanted to open hostilities with the Romulans. If they just wanted to destabilize the Romulans, they'd be much more subtle. Another theory claims that this is the result of some illness, following Curran's injury when his shuttle crash-landed. And a third one claims that he was working for the Hydrans, willingly or not."

Saul bit his lower lip. The fact they didn't know why Curran did this, not to mention stopping him beforehand, was a personal failure as far as he was concerned. Just like not revealing Faylin's identity or saving her life, and just like not finding out enough about the Hydran invasion force in time to prevent the defeat during the first battle of ch'Rihan.

"All of these are speculations," he concluded, "and will remain so as long as we're out of touch with Curran. I'm sorry to say this, but knowing the Romulans, there won't be much of Curran left when they're done with him."

"Which is, of course, quite unfortunate. We may never really know if he was or still is being manipulated by someone or something..and if my hunch was right or if I'm just losing my mind," Iniara added after a moment's hesitation, chuckling almost nervously.

"And the Romulans are using this incident, of course, as an excuse to 'burn' all the credit we should've earned for saving their homeworld." Saul commented. "I hope we WILL know the truth, and that I'm wrong about Curran's current situation."

He shut off the projector. "What makes you think you're losing your mind? Your guess is as good as anyone's."

Iniara sighed again, more deeply this time. "Well, would you think I was crazy if I told you I dreamed that?" She gestured at the now dark wall. "Since we left ch'Rihan, I've had the same dream every night. I'm alone on the bridge, it's dark, the rear lift doors open and out steps this tentacled thing...well, 'pours' or 'slithers' would be the more operative word... Anyway, somehow I know it's Curran, but it's not...it's like something else is moving him, controlling him or something, and by the time I can react he's on top of me. I usually wake up at this point, but sometimes the dream keeps going and...well, you can probably guess where this is going."

"This ship never seems to have a lack of weird psychic encounters, which is why I'm reluctant to dismiss these nightmares as the product of an overly powerful telepath who's been off her meds for too long. I mean, you've been witness to what my mind can do," she commented, thinking back to some of the strange things they'd both seen over the years. "Maybe I am going crazy. Maybe Galaxy was close enough to the Praetor's ship when this happened that I picked up some sort of psychic residue from the event. Maybe I picked up some sort of residue from Curran himself, when I spent so much time working with him after the Tru'Haran incident. Or maybe it's a combination of the three; I just don't know."

Saul nodded, listening carefully. "I don't think you should dismiss it; Any of those speculations could be right, or the dream could be the consequence of you being troubled about what happens to our liaison. What do you plan to do next?"

"I don't know." She picked up her raktajino again, finishing the rest of the drink in one large gulp. "I had considered talking to the captain about it, but I don't know if that would help anything. After all, until we get Curran back, what can I do but wait?" She paused in thought for a moment, then added, "I don't suppose you have any suggestions?"

Saul contemplated this for a while. "My hands are tied." He finally admitted. "I'll voice my opinion to the intelligence commonwealth - that Curran was controlled or possessed - but unless Starfleet gets him out of ch'Rihan by force, I don't see what else we can do with the information. The Romulans sure won't care about it. Tell the Captain, though; You know he'll take it seriously and not dismiss you."

"I'll do that." Iniara nodded slightly as he spoke. She then stood and walked to the replicator, depositing her empty mug. "Thanks for listening."

"Any time."

"Home, Part 1"

Aerv tr'Ahalaen
Rihannsu Ambassador

Elissa Skylark
Science Officer

= Aetthon, Nn'verih Province =
= ch'Rihan =

"Look, Lhhai," a servant said, "ch'Rihan is still burning."

Aerv Laehval tr'Ahalaen stood on the observation deck of a private yacht as it banked slowly towards his home and looked upon the bruised face of his world. Smoke swirled slowly over the horizon. It was difficult to imagine how much was lost in its sad, sullen mourning dance. Across the planet funeral pyres burned and ruins of war smoldered. Under the ashes of the Hydran invasion, the beauty of ch'Rihan was buried.

Burned was the pride of the Declared, the hearts of the Rihan burned.

Aerv felt the heat from fires of Romulus in his eyes. He felt it in his chest. Each breath was difficult. Air burned. His blood boiled. His heart beat with such furious anger that he feared it would burst.

Even so, he stood perfectly still, completely Without expression, and he surveyed the broken landscape underneath him. He did this because he knew that the rage that consumed him then, consumed his people also. However, this was no time for rage, no time for revenge. There would be time enough for that later.... As the humans said, revenge was best served cold. In the heat of this moment, his people needed to see patience, they needed to learn to set aside their anger and rebuild.

And no matter how difficult it was for him, Aerv tr'Ahalaen always struggled to give his people what they needed. So though he knew that some of the little fires had been his friends, his comrades, or places where he had walked in his youth, he forced himself to burn in silence.

The Samurai, human warriors of old, would have understood him then. They had understood, in part, mnhei'sahe. "Death," they had said, "Was lighter than a feather. Duty heavier than a mountain." How well the Rihan knew that to be true.

The servant waiting upon tr'Ahalaen cleared his throat, "Lhhai...what will we do?"

Aerv turned his intense gaze away from the scene before him. "The only thing one can do to a fire, Chudiv. We will put it out."

The man bowed slightly, then as he was about to say something else, the door to the observation lounge slid open and Elissa walked in. Chudiv smiled at her, bowed again to Aerv, and walked away. There was a moment of silence. Elissa walked up to Aerv and saw what he could see. Then, ever so softly, she touched his arm, and whispered, "Hey."

He looked at her. His fiery dark eyes drank from the vibrant blue oceans in her own. His gaze softened. without realizing it, he smiled. "Hi."

Elissa squeezed his arm tightly, and her eyes danced as they took him in with sharp appraisal. "If they ever made a statue of you," she suggested lightly, "I think it would move more."

"To move is to be alive," Aerv replied with a small sigh, his voice tired, "And to see and to see all this and still feel alive...that is difficult."

She stepped forward and looked out at the shifting grey horizon of Romulus, with an unreadable expression that shifted like water to different extremes so quickly he could not identify all the emotions. She grew rigid like stone and then seemed as fragile as glass. "It kind of looks..." Elissa tugged on the words, swallowing. "Beautiful. But not... I don't mean to say that it's not a mess, but the world is vibrant and full of life, and there's something to be said for that."

Aerv put a hand on the small of her back and gently drew her a little closer so that the smell of her hair touched him. "I know what you mean."

She leaned forward against the rail, looking down on Romulus. There was a strange pause. When Skylark spoke, her soft voice pierced the encroaching silence. "Do you think you'll miss it?"

tr'Ahalaen laughed softly, "Well...we still have a month here. And after that - well, I carry Romulus with me."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I don't think I'll ever be comfortable here."

"Don't think," he whispered, "Feel. Here thought flows from passion." Aerv smiled, "A difficult concept, I know - but passion flows from love and love flows from family.... That is where I am taking you, you know...and I think you will like them. After that, you will understand Romulus a little better."

"Yeah, but," she shrugged. "Will it understand me?"

tr'Ahalaen snapped his fingers, "That reminds me...." Stepping away from her, he walked over to the comm panel on the wall, he activated it. "Chudiv. That package I asked for...." Instantly, the door slid open and the servant who had recently left walked back in, carrying a small box that he handed to tr'Ahalaen.

"Your efficiency is frightening."

"You flatter me, Lhhai." The man replied, bowing to them both, before leaving them alone once again.

Despite her best efforts to maintain a serious expression, a smile broke on Elissa's face. She shook her head at the failure to control it and crossed her arms. "This should be interesting," was all she said, eyes glued to the package.

He smiled and held the slender package out to her in the palm of his hand, "It is for you. Ask no questions."

"I'm a scientist," she deadpanned, staring at him for just long enough. Then she delicately opened the box, lifting the top. It captured the lights of the observation room immediately, reflecting them out in a circular dance of silver fire. She pulled the bracelet out. There were blue stones embedded in the ring of metal that she could not immediately identify. Lines of latinum flowed as she turned it in her hands, a river of immodest glamour. "I didn't know they made jewelry this..." she shivered, cold for just a moment, and looked up at him. "May I wear it?"

Aerv laughed, "Of course.."

"Oh. Right." The information didn't quite sink in, though. She slipped the bracelet on and admired it on her arm. "This is," she grinned, "It's..." Elissa blinked, and looked panicked. "I can't wear this. I can't wear this, Aerv. I really...."

He folded his arms behind his back, looking quite bemused, "And why not?"

"Because it's..." she winced and shrugged. "It's. Uh, It's sweet. It's beautiful, Aerv, but it's..." Elissa let out a deep sigh, then threw her arms in the air. "I don't know."

"And when has that ever been a good enough reason not to do something. I do believe your science would be very disappointed were you not to wear it."

"Oh, do tell, Ambassador," she teased.

"There is, actually, one more thing I should tell you.... When you are wearing it, by the way...." He cleared his throat, "One of the benefits of wearing it, you see, is that you will instantly be recognized as a part of my family, so no doors will be closed to you and you will be welcome everywhere. Just try not to mortally insult someone - not that you would - just... that would really be quite bad."

Her arm felt unnaturally heavy. His celebrity was something she'd never really thought about, but once they arrived, it would be impossible to ignore. Elissa clasped the bracelet with her free palm. "Umm, what part, exactly?"

"Mostly the blood feuds...."

"I meant, of your family."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I thought I told you not to ask questions."

"This one's kind of important. Hushed whispers and pointing fingers, right? I mean, I've heard them mention me in Romulan news so I'm not totally oblivious to the perceptions of the public, and, well... I have a reputation to maintain. Kind of." Skylark stepped forward and put her hand on his chest. "It's important to me, and I know you'd part the seas for me, and that's sweet. I'm taking advantage of that now, okay?"

"No hushed whispers," he promised gently, tucking her golden hair behind her ear, "No pointed fingers... okay, maybe hushed whispers, but that comes with me, I'm afraid. You would be... well - it is quite difficult to explain, since there is no real cultural equivalent. You would be...it would be rather like we were engaged."

She sighed. "That's what jewelry always feels like."

"Elissa...trust me."

She pushed her feet up and hugged him tightly. Pressing her face on his chest, she stared outward. "I'm wearing it, aren't I?" He moved to put his arms around her, but she pushed out suddenly. A bright smile on her face, Elissa patted his chest with her hands. "I'm going to change into something nicer before we land." She marched toward the door and looked back at him, nose wrinkled amusingly. "Darling," she added.

The yacht carrying them banked sharply and he could finally see the dark outlines of the black marble palace that was dohhae Ahalaen - Aerv's ancestral home. It sat on a mountain, in virtually the only permafrost to be found on a rather the tropical province. It was a symbol of his family's tradition of putting the needs of the people before their own.

"Go ahead then," Aerv said, "We are almost home."

"Home, Part 2"

Aerv tr'Ahalaen
Rihannsu Ambassador

Elissa Skylark
Science Officer

= dohhae Ahalaen =
= Nn'verih Provice =

When the craft finally landed among the signature domes and spires of dohhae Ahalaen, Aerv was the first to step into his home, aware that he was being followed by a shy and hesitant Elissa. A cool breeze caught his black hair, an eager child rushing to hug him. His obsidian gaze was forced to the ground by the brilliant sunlight of the day, turning his attention to the ground below him. In the house proper, there would be fire by a hearth, a drink by the fire. Then the Elements would have completed their welcome.

Three aged servants walked up to greet the arriving couple, and bowed when they got close enough. Aerv smiled. The Hru'hfe, first among those in service at the home, walked up a few steps further and addressed him. "It is a pleasure to have you return, Lhhai. Long you have been gone from the care of us few."

"Long have I wished to return to your care," tr'Ahalaen replied, as was required by ritual. "And long do I wish to stay within it."

The Hru'hfe bowed, accepting Aerv's words as was his due. "And you bring a guest?"

"Elissa Skylark... this is the Hru'hfe of the Ahalaen." He smiled at the old servant, "The man who, when I was a child, made sure that I never got into too much trouble."

"You have my eternal respect and admiration, sir," she replied with a smile. "I am honored to be taken under your wing."

"The honor belongs to...." The old man paused as the sunlight caught the bracelet that Elissa was wearing, confused for a moment - then he looked to Aerv, stunned, "You did not tell us."

"There was no time."

"Mollais Shikaen," the old man whispered, as the servants behind him knelt, "Mollais Shikaen. I am so sorry, Lhhei...Master tr'Ahalaen did not inform us that you were...."

Skylark tensed noticably. "It... well.... hmm." She shot daggers at Aerv with her eyes for just a second, then turned back with a gracious smile that felt forced and still not enough. She leaned over and put her hand on the man's shoulder, then closed her eyes tight and winced as she realized it would probably only freak him out more. For all her studying, she did not nearly understand the trappings of Romulus' elite society. "Please stand up. I see no slight, and I feel no dishonor, so... umm... please. Really. It's alright."

"You're making her uncomfortable, Hru'hfe. She does not stand on formality any more than I do."

"That is very little," the head of the servants said with a distinct air of disapproval. He gestured for the others to rise. "You are very gracious, Lhhei...and your heart is kind. For us, your word will be fate. Anything you need, will be yours...."

"Hru'hfe," Aerv reminded gently, "You are starting again."

The old man cleared his throat, "Yes, my apologizes." Then he went on in a much less formal tone, the old man turned back to Aerv. "There are none present here that you must see."

"It is tradition," Aerv told Elissa, "That when a younger family member comes back home after a long voyage, he must visit the elders of the home. In my... in our case, that would be my parents, my uncle, the weaponmaster and a few others. It would appear that none of them are home."

She nodded, a bit relieved inwardly. Any more of this and she might have had a heart attack well before her time. As it was, she clutched her side, doing her best to hide the discomfort from the old man lest he fall before her.

"However," the Hru'hfe said, "Both Sharien and Ael are here. Your sisters are very eager to meet you. They await only your permission."

Aerv pretended to give this a great deal of thought, began to say something, then stopped. Finally, he yawned and said, "It was a long trip, Hru'hfe, and I am so tired that...."

A cry of protest went up from behind a nearby pillar a few seconds later a young girl, no more than nine, came running towards them shouting, "Dianvm!" After a moment, with a little more hesitation and reserve, another woman appeared and walked toward them.

Aerv gathered up the young child in his arm, kissing her forehead. "Ael."

"You're mean, Dianvm."

"Really, Ael," the Hru'hfe broke in sternly, "This is most improper."

Aerv laughed, set the child down, and embraced the pretty young woman who was following her, "Sharien. It is good to see you."

"How did you spot us, Dianvm? We were well hidden."

"I do not need to see my heart, e'lev, to feel it beating."

Sharien smiled, shook her head, and turned to Elissa, "Speaking of your heart...."

"Ah... of course. Sharien, Ael - my sisters - this is Elissa...."

"Supergirl," Ael chirped enthusiastically, "We know. We saw you kissing on the holovids. And in the lake...."

"More importantly," Sharien said, with a small gasp, "Mollais Shikaen. Ia'Rinam."

"What?" Ael stepped forward and took Elissa's hand, lifting it up so that the sunlight caught the sparkling bracelet, "Oh...wow. So pretty."

"Ael," the Hru'hfe snapped, "We do not touch our guests without permission."

The child dropped Elissa's hand and stepped back, "Oh...I'm sorry."

Elissa smiled, winking at the girl on the side. Best not to break any more of Hru'hfe's rules until things had settled. "I'm very pleased to meet both of you." Her cheeks flared though at the Supergirl reference.

"We have to tell Father and...."

"There will time enough for that soon," Hru'hfe broke in, "Right now, as your brother said, it was a long journey and they are both very tired. The two of you can dote on your brother's Intended when she is rested." Turning to Aerv, the old man bowed slightly, "I trust you will be showing Elissa to your chambers now?"

"Ah...." Aerv cleared his throat, "Yes, actually - well...."

"Dianvm has the biggest chambers," Ael volunteered, having recovered some of her enthusiasm, "They are like...four different rooms, you know. There is the library, and the...."

Elissa seized on the opportunity. "A library! If it's all right with you, I'd like to have Ael show me. Ael?"

"Sure," Ael said happily, stuck out her hand, and when Elissa took it, the child shot the Hru'hfe a smug look before leading Skylark away, prattling on, "Do you like books? Dianvm has so many books. But he doesn't have any Supergirl books - I checked...but don't tell him that. Do you still have your costume?"

Elissa looked back at the Hru'fhe with an apologetic smile and nodded to him as the girl dragged her into the estate. The old man, quite used to the impertinence of all the Ahalaen children simply bowed slightly, then turned to look at Aerv.

"I have waited many years, Lhhai, for you to manage to do something quite this right."

tr'Ahalaen laughed. "I am a Blade of the Declared, Hru'fhe. I am the Rihannsu Ambassador to the Federation. I served....."

"Aerv," the aging servant said gently, abandoning his own rules of protocol for just a moment, "None of those things are the true measure of a man. You understand?"

tr'Ahalaen inclined his head slightly to indicate his submission to the point and his understanding.

"Good. Then I have not failed...entirely. Now, if you will excuse me, Lhhai, I will see to your Intended...."

OOC: Apologies all, this (and part 2) are set a little prior to the explosions on DS5.

"Impatient for Duty" Part #1

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton - Chief Medical Officer
Lieutenant Branwen London - Furies Counsellor

CMO's Counselling Office
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sat in her 'other' office, the one she had co-opted and set aside for any counselling clients she gathered, Kimberly waited for the arrival of one newly promoted Marine Lieutenant. After the incident in sickbay (pick one) with either the self inflicted wounds, or her rather strange objections to green 'alien' goo, it was high time for the welsh woman to sit down and have a long chat with one of the ships counsellors. Despite her request that Kimberly be her doctor second and her friend first, in this instance she had decided that the reverse would have to be true for a little while. Settling in her comfy chair with Branwens file and a coffee she read in silence while she waited, muttering to herself once or twice as she came across something that caught her attention.

Realising that this would probably take more than a few sessions she opened up her schedule on the PADD and made a note to set aside time for weekly sessions if possible, though Branwen might not like it, better to be prepared in case she agreed though. Some of her notes had been transferred from previous posts, as well as her academy records of course. Some of the information on there certainly made for interesting reading, for instance, it wasn't often you met a Terran who had needed standard language lessons at the academy.

Branwen walked into Kimberly's office. She didn't really want to be here, besides she didn't think she needed any heavy counselling at the moment. Except for her health everything was going great in her life right now. But still orders were orders and she knocked on the door. Although back on my duties, she still felt pretty sore all over.

Looking up as the door opened Kimberly smiled and stood, "Hi Branwen," she greeted the Lieutenant as she walked in, "How're you feeling today?"

"I hate my physical therapist.' She said with a smile. "But better. Slowly getting there." She said down a little gingerly.

Walking over to the replicator Kimberly indicated the device, "Who's doing the therapy with you?" she asked curiously.

"Battleaxe nurse Helga Lund. Can't you give her to me to use as a drill sergeant, Kimberly. She has no mercy. Hot chocolate please."

Ordering a chocolate and a coffee for herself Kimberly had to smile, Nurse Lund wasn't exactly the most subtle of therapists, but she did get results, "'fraid not," she replied and she walked back, "or else who'd we get to keep the patients in line," smiling she offered Branwen her drink, "how's the therapy going?" Even though she knew and got regular updates, it was a safe place to start talking.

"Slow and I am impatient. Right now I am only allowed paperwork and a few patients. And the marines are understaffed. I want to get back on active duty. You sure you can't cut any corners to help?" She grinned.

"Cut corners, you should know better than to ask that," she replied as she sat back down, "I let you go back on duty without a clean bill of health and something happens, then people yell at me," shaking her head, "no, I'm sorry but you'll just have to take it slow and easy for a while. Use the time to relax," she suggested.

Bran sighed. "So how much longer do you think?"'

"If you do as Nurse Lund and Doctor Mathieson say, and no extra curricular activities to push yourself, a week or two then you'll be back on light duties. Perhaps another week to ten days and you'll be ready for full duties," settling back into her chair she raised an eyebrow, "things would go a little easier though if you would help me understand a few things though," she asked curiously.

Bran groaned. "That long still. Alright, shout!"

"Shout? No, no reason to shout," Kimberly assured her, "but the reason I asked you here to day was to spend a little official time chatting about a few things that have happened recently, is that okay?"

"Sure, although I don't think I need it, Kimberly. I am doing better then ever."

"Well, we have an hour, and I asked you here because of what happened in sickbay, both recently and prior to the Romulan issues, would you like to start?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"I was afraid of the treatment. In the past I have known somebody who died during it. He was probably so severely injured that not even it could help him but it made me afraid. I was a child at the time, and my father said alien technology killed my uncle. Things like that linger." Branwen said honestly. "But I am past that now."

"It's true, childhood memories like that do linger, especially bad ones. If I may ask though, you must've had the regen rejection tests at the academy, and considering your reaction in sickbay to the suggestion of regen therapy that is one of the reasons I asked if we could talk." Getting comfortable she watched Branwen closely, watching her body language and posture as she spoke.

"I skipped those tests. I managed to fool them." She coloured bright red. "Sorry. It really used to freak me out. I guess it's less now, I survived, but still it was no fun." She fumbled with her hands in her lap a little.

Making a note to check her for any rejection symptoms, even though they would have probably occurred by now she tilted her head to one side and simply asked curiously, "Used to freak you out?"

"You didn't pay much attention to me when I was in sickbay. I know you were angry at me, because you were tired, and you thought I was being unreasonable and unkind to you. I probably was. Fr Nielsen sat with me a lot, and Commander Dallas. They helped me through the worst. Because I was weak I was very scared. And I cried through most of the procedure." She said it almost clinically without emotion. "I think I mastered my fear now, and I can undergo it without too much crying a next time."

"I wasn't angry, just a little confused why an educated Starfleet officer has such an unreasoning fear about something so commonplace," she tried to explain, "but yes, I was tired and if I sounded as if I was snapping I apologise," she said with an apologetic tone, "let's hope there is no next time though, but should there be we can always sit down and explore the procedure, perhaps understanding it better would help you accept it more?" she offered.

"It might. And I wasn't angling for an apology, I know now how tiring it can be to work in a hospital during emergencies. I have a lot of respect for you, Kimberly. I should apologise for being so childish. But I wasn't feeling well, and I couldn't help myself. I am much better now. No reason to worry about me." She smiled. "About there being a next time, I hope not, but I am not in the safest profession."

"This is true," she agreed with a nod, "however, it's not just your profession that seems to cause you some injuries is it?"

"What are you getting at?" Branwen stared back.

"Doctor Mathieson mentioned to me that there had been some injuries on your back that hadn't been properly treated," she explained, "and the timing of the injuries apparently co-insides with a security report that was filed a while back. Some blood was found in the ships chapel, a routine scan of the blood indicated it was yours." Looking at Branwen she remained impassive as she spoke, "there hasn't really been the time to follow up on it until now, but I would like to hear what happened?"

"That was something private, between me and my priest. We are sorting it out. It was also something that happened in my spare time, my work is not suffering, I have even been promoted, so I don't think you need to know." Branwen told her.

"Perhaps, and under normal circumstances I would agree fully, however as your Doctor and your counsellor, and the person responsible for certifying you fit for duty I have to ask. There are indications of injury, which based on the evidence are consistent with some form of weapon, and your failure to report or get them treated leaves questions that I'm afraid I have to ask before I can consider allowing you to return to duty."

"Don't threaten me, Kimberly. I have told you before that I am more happy now than I have been in a long time. The captain just promoted me, there is no reason to pull me off duty. I talked to my priest, so I did not keep it secret. You are just curious to know what happened to me, and you are not playing fair. Counselling is not about threatening people into telling things they don't want to tell." She seemed calm and continued to look at the other woman. "You still seem tired, are you sure that you are getting enough rest? You might benefit from some off duty time yourself, ma'am."

"I'm fine," Kimberly replied to the last simply, refusing to let the conversation drift off topic. "You couldn't be more wrong by the way, I'm not personally curious at all. However professionally I have to ask, and you of all people should know that while counselling may not be about prying in any way shape or form, but on a ship of the line the CMO's and counsellors duty is also to ensure that the crew's mental health is maintained, and that everyone is capable of doing their duty. You may well have been promoted, and congratulations by the way, and yes you may have been doing your job. Unreported injuries and security reports about your blood being found in parts of the ship however have made this a matter of official record. And therefore as the person responsible for certifying you fit for duty I have to ask why you did not report an injury, which I might also point out is against regulations in itself." Pausing for breath she took a mental step back and reminded herself that quoting the rules shouldn't be necessary.

"Impatient for Duty" Part #2

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton - Chief Medical Officer
Lieutenant Branwen London - Furies Counsellor

CMO's Counselling Office
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"I'm fine," Kimberly replied to the last simply, refusing to let the conversation drift off topic. "You couldn't be more wrong by the way, I'm not personally curious at all. However professionally I have to ask, and you of all people should know that while counselling may not be about prying in any way shape or form, but on a ship of the line the CMO's and counsellors duty is also to ensure that the crew's mental health is maintained, and that everyone is capable of doing their duty. You may well have been promoted, and congratulations by the way, and yes you may have been doing your job. Unreported injuries and security reports about your blood being found in parts of the ship however have made this a matter of official record. And therefore as the person responsible for certifying you fit for duty I have to ask why you did not report an injury, which I might also point out is against regulations in itself." Pausing for breath she took a mental step back and reminded herself that quoting the rules shouldn't be necessary.

"Branwen," she said, still using the same professional tone she had maintained up to this point, "I shouldn't have to remind you that as a marine, your duty is to report any injury that could affect your performance, you didn't. Fleet regulations require all injuries to be reported, it's simply a matter of safety for the crew. You may well have talked to your priest, and I have absolutely no problem with that, in fact I'm glad you are talking to someone, but he's not the one who has to certify that you are healed, fit and ready for duty. If you've withheld information once, how can I trust you not to do it again?"

"Why do I have to tell you everything? You are not my doctor, and you are making yourself my shrink when I just want you as my friend. I I think I told my mentor. We went on mission pretty soon after it happened." She frowned thinking hard. "I'm pretty sure that I did."

"I'm not saying you have to tell me everything," Kimberly assured her, "and if you are talking to someone about the 'why' of what happened already that is great, but as the CMO of this ship i do have to ask about 'what' happened. Why you didn't report an injury. That is what i am asking about."

"Because I don't see it as an injury." She said honestly. "I was doing penance for my sins. And those wounds should not be dressed. They are supposed to be uncomfortable and painful. I finally had them tended to because not doing so would have interfered with my duty and that I cannot have. If that happens I put my job and the safetly of my marines first. I am not stupid or mentally ill." She looked Kimberly in the eye.

Returning the look Kimberly nodded, "Okay, a religious observance," she said evenly, thinking about Branwen's file she recalled a mention of Terran Christian religion ~ ? ~. "There are many cultures and religions that practice rituals and observances that might be comparable. The Klingons and their infamous pain sticks spring immediately to mind," she said with a small and involuntary shudder, "Leaving the wounds untreated and undressed though is perhaps not such a good idea. As you yourself said you finally had them treated because they could have interfered, so perhaps we can look at that. I'm not asking you to tell me 'why'," she explained again, "but there are regulations to consider, and ritual observances do have a limit. Klingons will at least bandage their hands after taking a blood oath, even they see the sense in not letting too much blood leak everywhere."

"In my religion I should put on a hair shirt after flogging myself to make the wounds more irritated.' Bran said casually. "But Ft. Nielsen has very modern ideas. He is not a fan of flogging. And we are talking about it. He has even given me a bible so I can read the word of God myself." Her eyes glowed. "But it is confusing. It is very different from what I was thought in my youth. And the penance was for allowing myself to be raped." It was almost thrown in casually.

Not letting the emotions show that rumbled around her mind at that comment Kimberly thought for a moment before saying simply, "Allowing yourself?"

"Yes. The person who raped me said it was my own fault. That I wanted it myself. I don't think so, but I didn't fight either. I am a marine, I could have stopped her. So on some level I must be guilty myself."

Thinking for a moment Kimberly let that comment hang in the air briefly before answering, she recalled something a while back just before Rihan about a JAG query between the Galaxy and the Miranda. As usual the warp powered rumour mill that was the USS Galaxy had done it's stellar job and let the information flow freely, though she rarely paid attention to gossip you couldn't walk through sickbay and not pick some titbits up. "This was before the battle at ch'Rihan?" she asked.

"It was. It was during the shore leave before that mission." Branwen admitted.

"And so despite the assault, you felt the need to punish yourself for what someone else did?" she asked in a querying tone.

"Like I said. I am the marine, I should have been able to stop her. I didn't think it was real, she told me she was hypnotising me so I thought it wasn't really happening." Branwen blushed profusely. "Look, I would like to forget about this. It makes me feel very foolish."

Nodding, "Okay, if you've been talking to Commander Dallas and your priest about this then we can move on if you like, if you're happy to do so. But I would like to discuss a bit more about your injuries? Harming yourself, even due to a religious belief is not terribly healthy, and failing to treat the injuries to let yourself suffer, well i was unaware that any of the christian belief systems still practised such activities on Earth anymore, though i have to admit my knowledge of judeo-christian beliefs is limited."

"I come from a very small community. And very strict." Branwen looked at her friend. "So what is your religion?" Anything to change the subject.

Spending a nano-second debating whether to tell a strict catholic who seemed to believe in the letter of biblical law that she was a practicing Wicca Kimberly decided to pause that particular question for a moment. It would be interesting, both professionally and personally to see her reaction, but it was a topic best left for the latter part of their chat. Smiling, "I have faith," she replied simply, "and we will come back to that in a moment if you like, for now though we're talking about you. I have no problem with people of faith, nor traditions or rituals from the diverse cultures that exist. However, I want your word that before you perform any more self harming rituals that you will speak with someone. Be that Commander Dallas, your priest or even myself. Okay."

"I am speaking to my priest about it. He doesn't want me to do it. He doesn't believe in it either. He is slowly changing my beliefs. And we are starting a bible group. If you have faith, maybe you can attend as well?"

"Then I shall leave you to speak with him then. However, if I hear about this again I will have a talk with Commander Dallas about your duty status. Is that understood."

"Yes ma'am." But Branwen smiled.

Making a mental note to have a quiet chat with Dallas anyway Kimberly continued. "And thank you for the offer, but I'm afraid that while I have faith I am not a christian," she replied to Branwens offer politely. "I follow different traditions."

She swallowed, but Branwen was learning to be open-minded. There were many religions on Earth. "There is nothing wrong with being Jewish or a muslim."

"Neither I'm afraid, I am a practising Wicca," she explained, "a witch."

The Welsh woman's eyes widened. "A witch!" She had grown up fearing those as much as aliens and Englishmen. "A witch. I'm so sorry." She stammered.

"Why are you sorry?" Kimberly asked curiously, not entirely surprised though at Branwens reaction, "My faith is an ancient and peaceful one, what do you have to apologise for?"

"Because you are a heretic, and you practice black magic. It means you will go to hell and I like you."

Sighing Kimberly shook her head, "Lieutenant, you have much to learn about who I am and what I believe. The term heretic applies no more to me than it does to you. And as a matter of interest the term itself is inaccurate, stemming from the Greek word to choose," she explained, "like many things it was adopted and modified by the early christians, in this case to describe those to chose to believe differently than they did. And as to where I will go after this mortal coil, well, that's a matter for our comparative beliefs," she explained.

"Oh, and I do not practice black magic," she added, "but that is a topic for another day." Filing Branwens reactions away for later she smiled. "Anyway, back to you. We'll schedule a follow up chat for next week, but for now I will remind you to speak with someone before any further traditions you have that require any form of self harm, okay. And next time we get together, if you like, we'll meet in sickbay and we can sit down and discuss anything you have questions about in sickbay, including the regen therapy, how does that sound?"

"It sounds good. But I would rather sit at home and talk as friends, Kimberly." She came to her feet. "I guess you have no objections to my working any longer?"

"We'll see after your next check up, assuming everything is okay, and Commander Dallas has no objections then no, no objections. However, as I said, any other unreported injuries and you will be back here." Nodding politely she stood and smiled, "Until next week then."

"See you then." Branwen said and left.

"Marching Orders"

With Admiral Robert E. Lee Price, former commanding officer of the USS GALAXY, current chief of Starfleet operations.
Also included: Rear Admiral Olivia Proctor, Commanding Officer of Deep Space Five, and Captain Darren M'Kantu, Captain of the USS GALAXY.

Location: USS GALAXY, CAPTAIN'S READY ROOM
Time: Shortly after "Revelations" by Ian.

"This is an outrage!" Rear Admiral Olivia Proctor said sending her coffee cup sailing across the room where it shattered on the nearby bulkhead.

"This station, MY station has been assaulted by...by terrorists from the Orion Syndicate! One of MY people have been taken by these bastards and you...." she said stabbing a red nailed finger at Price's image barely able to contain the scorn in her voice, " you want the your precious GALAXY to go on some wild goose chase for a missing Borg drone?"

Ever the diplomat, Price struggled to keep a friendly smile upon his weathered face.

"I wouldn't quite put it that way, Mate." he said before Proctor cut him off.

"That Aussie charm won't work on me, Price! You're a glory hound! You always have been and since this time you can't sit in the Captain's Chair yourself, you want to live vicariously through that damn ship of yours! You know damn well that...."

The Admiral held up his hand to silence the ranting woman in midsentence. She glared at him, visibly seething as he spoke in a soft, yet undeniably authoritative voice.

"What I know Olivia, are two things. First I know that it is the decision of Starfleet that the USS GALAXY depart immediately for her next assignment. No further explanation will be nessicary nor given. The second thing I know is that I am still you're superior officer and as much as I dislike pulling rank lass, you're orders are to complete repairs on your station and dispatch an operational vessel of your choosing to Ivor Prime to investigate the recent incidents aboard DS5." Price stated.

He then leaned foreword and with the look of a man used to seeing his orders being carried out without question, said: "If you find that you cannot fulfill my orders, I will reassign someone there who can. Is that understood?"

Olivia snarled, her fury barely contained.

"I will be filing a protest with Starfleet immediately."

"Fair Dinkum, mate. Be advised that a response may be a bit of a wait." Price said as Proctor severed the comm link.

"She is a spirited woman." Captain Darren M'Kantu said, shaking his head and folding his hands on his lap.

"That she is, Darren." Price agreed, "Just a wee bit keyed up sometimes."

"Is what she is saying accurate, Robert? About the Borg attache missing?"

Price shook his head.

"I don't know how she found out so fast. We are keeping this out of the public eye as long as we can for the obvious reasons, but this has us all worried, Mate."

The gravity of the situation caused M'Kantu's mouth to go dry. He took a moment and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher on his desk.

"What do we know for sure?" he asked.

"Less then 6 hours ago, an unknown assault team attacked Starfleet headquarters during the New Years festivities and presumably kidnapped Three of Four. They then vanished through what appeared to be a wormhole which then collapsed, taking out one of our fighters and leaving us all staring at each other."

"Merciful Allah..." M'Kantu whispered, his ebon skin growing ashen. "Do we have any leads? Ransom demands perhaps?"

"Nothing at all. Starfleet Intelligence cannot confirm the craft's origin, however forensics show the Drone apparently engaged the attackers in brief hand to hand combat. We have found traces of blood that have been confirmed as Barzanian."

"Barzan? Picard's reports said their wormhole was supposed to be completely unstable." M'Kantu said. "Plus if I recall, Barzan doesn't even have space flight technology."

Admiral Price sighed heavily.

"It doesn't make sense. This whole bloody mess doesn't make sense. You know as well as I do that when the Borg find out what has happened, this is going to get ugly faster then two shakes of a dingo's tail. They are not the type to sit at a table and talk things out."

"They are going to see this as an act of aggression and react accordingly." M'Kantu predicted.

"Thats the general consensus of the Fleet. Our old friend Admiral Bhrode and his Olympus Fleet are currently at one of our classified Research & Development installations specializing in Borg Technology. Among other things, the white coats there have constructed a prototype warp conduit that allows us to actually view Borg space without being seen. So far there has been no movement from the Borg."

"Will the Admiral be of any help in this?" Darren asked.

"I'm afraid not. They are too far out to make it to Barzan until it was too late. He has been apprised of the situation and will alert us when he sees the Borg begin to move so we at least will have some kind of time frame till all hell breaks loose."

Price straightened and leaned towards the view screen a bit.

"The GALAXY is the closest ship we have. You are ordered to get underway to Barzan IMMEDIATELY. Best possible speed. We need you to retrieve the drone before the Borg notice she is missing and get her back here." he said.

"And the kidnappers?" M'Kantu asked.

"Targets of opportunity. Your highest and only priority is to retrieve the drone at all costs and keep those soulless bastards on their side of the fence for the rest of the treaty." the Admiral said.

"Permission to leave Proctor some personnel to assist her."

"Granted. She will probably be completely unappreciative, but its a fine gesture nonetheless." Price said, then added "Be careful, Darren. An awful lot is riding on this one, Mate." Price out.

"Isn't there always." M'Kantu said opening a channel.

"Attention all hands, this is the Captain....."

"Opening Up"

1st Lt. Branwen London
1st Lt. Steven Jonas

**** Steven's Office ****

Although she hated the fact that they were making her see a psychologist being one herself Bran knew she needed to talk to Steven professionally. After the funeral she had talked to him briefly once and then gave him time to heal. But the reports she was getting now were not good. He was one of her marines, a patient and someone she liked a great deal. So Bran sought him out. She found Steven behind his desk hard at work.

She sat down on a corner of the desk and just watched him for a while.

Steven sat absorbed in the report he was reading to notice her entrance. He had been finding it hard to do anything without thinking about her, especially after what happened with Rex, yet work seemed to be the only thing keeping him sane. So he had been pouring over the reports trying to keep occupied.

Yawning slightly, he reached over for the coffee mug sitting on the desk next to the masses of PADDs that lay scattered about. Bringing it to his lips, he found it to be too cold. Sighing, he stood, preparing to walk over to the replicator. It was then that he noticed Bran sitting on the edge of his desk. "Hi," he said somewhat sheepishly, "I didn't hear you come in."

"I can move silently." She said with a smile. "You were so busy, I did not want to disturb you."

Steven nodded. She was checking up on him. That much he could tell. Not that he blamed her. After all that had happened in the past few days, he was surprised that she hadn't been to see him earlier. "Do you want anything?" he asked as he waved the mug about.

"To have a little talk. I'm sure that will not come as a surprise, Steven." She leaned forward. "How are you, really?"

"I feel like crap. Plain and simple." Usually he would have spouted something about being fine, as he usually did with Bran. It wasn't that he disliked her, far from it. She was a wonderful person. It was her counselling side that he hated. But with all that had happened in the past few days, he didn't feel like pretending. "I've lost everything Bran. There is nothing left, save you guys."

Branwen just listened, right now he needed to talk more than to hear her say anything. Nothing was going to help make his grief any less.

Replicating himself a fresh mug of coffee, he looked over at his boss. "I assume you heard about my night in the brig?"

"Yes. It did pass my desk."

Steven shrugged his shoulders. "I should have thought it through more clearly. Would have saved a whole slew of problems. But it's in the past and I can't change that."

"Why did you do it?" She simply asked.

"I suppose I should tell someone. It's been eating away at me since I found out. Let's see... Though I didn't realize it at the time, it occured after that party in the holodeck Faylin threw. The next morning, I had the urge to go and see her, cause I felt that I hadn't explained how much I loved her the night before."

"And how did that go?"

Sitting down on the couch next to the Welsh woman, Steven continued. "Well it seemed that she had the same idea cause she came barrelling out of her quarters and upon seeing me jumped into my arms telling me how much she loved me, and wanting to make 'us' work."

Branwen just nodded, it was usually enough to keep them talking.

"I'm getting to why I decked Rex. I need to get all of this off my chest." Steven smiled, though it didn't reflect how he was feeling.

"Why him?"

"Well, what I didn't know, and only learnt the other day, a few hours before I decked him, was that Faylin and the CAG got together the night of the party. So I'm sure you can imagine my surprise and anger that barely a handful of hours later Faylin could have had the audacity to jump into my arms professing her love, with no remorse or guilt after sleeping with Rex."

"And you cannot ask her any longer why she did it." She shook her head. "Is that what bothers you most?"

Steven nodded. "I think that's partially it. From the beginning, I told her that I wanted an open and honest relationship. I had always been honest with her, and finding out that she couldn't even do that with me, well, with her gone I couldn't confront her and ask why. So the anger built up. I should have realized it was me. That I should have been angry at myself for believing in her, for thinking that she ever gave a damn about me but I was blinded by my anger and lashed out at him, since they had slept together."

"So you decided to punish the one still alive?"

"I shouldn't have hit him. I know it isn't right. I know, despite him being a higher rank, that I shouldn't attack other crew members. I just lost it. The one thing I had left, - the memory of her - was now scarred forever, and I just lost it. All I have left are you guys and her stupid dog. I..." Steven looked down at the steaming mug of coffee in his hands. "I don't know what to do anymore."

Bran came closer and lay a hand on his leg. "Steven, some people don't regard sex as that important." She had read it in books as she didn't believe it herself. "It doesn't mean that you were not the most important person in her life." She looked at him. "When he calms down you might talk to the major about it. Find out about that night if that could help you? But I want you to know that I am here for you."

"I guess I should go and see him, to try and explain. I don't know if I can stomach talking to him though. It'll just remind me of what she did."

"I understand but it might bring you some closure. Take care of some of that anger." She said gently.

Steven nodded. He didn't really think talking to the CAG would help, but he'd wait a few days and then try and talk to him. Of course he had no idea what he'd say, other than 'Sorry', and it wasn't as if he was gonna try and compare notes on Fay or anything. Despite how she hurt him, he wasn't that vindictive. At least he didn't think he was. But then again, he'd never had a really been in the situation, that he now found himself in, before. So anything was possible. Steven looked up at Bran, noticing for the first time since she had entered his office that her complexion was rosier than he had seen it when she lay on that biobed. She looked healthier, and that was a good thing after what she had been through.. "It's good to see you up and about."

She smiled. "Thank you, I am slowly getting there. But right now we are talking about you." Bran hated this next bit. "So,... do you think you are focused enough to work, Steven?"

"I feel fine. Work is helping get my mind off of her. Please don't take that away. All it'll do is make me have more free time to think about how she..." A tear started forming and he stopped so he could wipe it away.

"oh hon." Branwen put her arms around him. She should pull him off duty, because their were serious doubts about his ability to function. But... she remembered the conversation she had with Kimberly recently. How could she take his work away. "I won't, okay. I won't. But we will talk often. And if there is anything bothering you, you come to me, promise!"

Steven nodded. It felt a little odd having so many people hugging him all the time. But somehow, deep inside, he knew that he needed it more than he'd ever let on. "Thanks."

"Good." She rubbed his back before letting go. "Why don't I cook you a nice healthy welsh dinner tonight."

"I'd like that." Steven smiled. "It's not like I have any other pressing engagements to go to. No one, but a little dog and all her things, to go home to. Dinner would be nice."

"Just bring her along. I am looking forward to it as well." Bran grinned.

"Sure, I guess. I think I'm supposed to take it out for walks or something. Perhaps walking to your quarters would suffice for it."

"I don't know. I guess so." Bran made a mental note to make some dogfood as as well.

"What time shuld I come over?" he inquired.

"How about seven?"

"Seven it is."

"Home, Part 3"

Aerv tr'Ahalaen
Rihannsu Ambassador

Elissa Skylark
Science Officer

= Aetthon, Nn'verih Province =
= dohhae Ahalaen =

The room was dim, with light angling through the window and creating long shadows in the Ahalaen library. Elissa'd spent a great deal of time here over the past few days, and more of it seemed to be with young Ael, who was curled up in her lap, eyes heavy.

"No one dared admit the truth, until a child waiting in the line saw the Emperor," danced the words from Elissa Skylark's lilting voice, as she read aloud from one of the many books.

"'But he has nothing on!', claimed the child. And slowly, the others whispered, from man to woman and woman to man, until the entire crowd was shouting that he was, in fact, naked. The Emperor heard them, and began to believe they were right, but continued his procession, head held high, as if nothing had changed..."

The girl was dead weight, her breath slow and steady against Elissa's chest. She closed the book, and watched Ael's back rise and fall. After a moment, someone gently cleared their throat - Elissa looked up to find Sharien and Aerv standing in the door way. Aerv's other sister, one who never seemed to stay around Elissa very long, walked into the library and nodded at Skylark, "Thank you. I'll get her to bed."

Elissa set the book down, scooped up the girl and stood, handing her gently to the young woman with a smile. "Here..." Sharien took her, nodded again, and left the library without any further delay.

"You're frowning," Aerv said, after a moment had passed.

"I... feel like maybe I'm intruding too much here, Aerv. I can see it in her eyes."

"Sharien?" Aerv asked with a chuckle, "Well...if it is any consolation, it is not that she thinks you are intruding, a'rhea...she just does not like you very much."

"Oh. That's much better."

Aerv smiled and held a hand out to her, "Come with me."

When she took his hand and rose, he began to lead her deeper into his personal chambers, towards his bedroom. "Aside from Sharien," he asked, "No complaints?"

"Honestly? I feel like a princess."

The last door to the home itself closed behind them, and he walked her to the balcony that extended out from room. It was a beautiful, clear night, with all the stars above Romulus visible and bright. Letting go of her hand, he pointed toward the moon. "There."

She peered at it. "Where?"

He chuckled, "I mean the moon itself, Elissa."

"It's pretty." She turned to him. "I'm sorry, was there supposed to be more to it?"

"Yes. It is the answer to why Sharien doesn't like you."

"Because I'm human?" she asked incredulously, not entirely convinced. "Or because I'm not from your world?"

Aerv shook his head, walked to the edge of the balcony and leaned on a railing, "No...because she feels that when you look at the moon, you do not see it." He turned back to look at Elissa, "Does that make any sense? It is difficult to explain - it took me a while to understand what she was trying say.... Sharien is very young, Elissa, and so she has very set ideas about what love is, what passion is, what romance should be. Uncertainty comes with time. Understanding of differences comes with time. Sharien doesn't like you because she believes you think too much, that you are... detached from life, trying to solve it instead of live it."

Skylark shrugged. "Sometimes I'd agree with her. What do you think?"

"We all live our lives differently," he answered, "There is no right or wrong way to do it. You are intensely passionate in your own way, about certain things...and perhaps you do lose the moment for the hour, but often I lose the hour for the moment. There are things I can teach you, and things you will teach me. Like I said, Sharien is young and she often thinks her way is the only right way."

Skylark looked at him for a long moment. "I see the moon, and I want to just... move toward it. Fly, like when we were still... just fly. When I look up into space, all I really want to do is just move toward it... as quickly as possible, and never need to come back down. I had that for a little while, and it felt like a lie. And then I found out it was a lie." She sighed deeply, and looked back up into the night sky. "That is what I see, and it makes me angry."

Aerv folded his arms across his chest and gave her a look of mock indignation, "What is wrong down here?"

"Nothing. Everything is perfect here, Aerv."

"So why do you want to leave? Why do you want to fly to the moon and never need to come back down?"

Elissa shook her head and stepped into his shadow. "Trapped." She said quietly, and then pushed into him and covered his lips with hers. He responded gently, drawing her closer. Then after a few long moment, he broke away a little.

"Let me free you then," he whispered, "From thought, from...everything...."

She smiled generously, cupping the side of his face in her hand. "You're so sweet. I love how you talk, and..." she scanned his body, the rippling, taut muscle and sinew that was practically screaming. "Well, everything." She kissed him lightly. "When... I'm sorry... when it's time."

tr'Ahalaen laughed softly, "You see...it is not that you are trapped, a'rhea - you are just afraid to fly. The Emperor has no clothes." He kissed her forehead, "Good night. Close the door when you come back in."

She nodded, holding back words that wanted to come out, watched the curtains billow around him, and turned to look at the moon again. The air was cold, but felt strangely comforting as it numbed her. But soon all it was was numbness and cold. She stood on the balcony until her eyes felt heavy, then retreated back inside to the warmth of the hearth and a soft bed. Not hers, this time, but his.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and lay down beside him. For what felt like a small eternity, Aerv did not move. Then he turned around to face her, simply looking into her deep blue eyes for a long time. In the dim light of the moon, he touched the delicate line of her jaw, stroked the flaxen waves of her hair.

"When you are ready," he decided in a voice heavy with tenderness, "You will tell me what is wrong...and perhaps then there will not be these walls between my heart and yours."

She said nothing but smiled faintly, and held him close until she fell asleep.

"Home, Part 4"

Aerv tr'Ahalaen
Rihannsu Ambassador

Elissa Skylark
Science Officer

= dohhae Ahalaen =
= Nn'verih Provice, ch'Rihan =

Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen was alone when the door to his dimly lit study opened. No one ever entered this room without an invitation - that was a rule that had stood unchallenged in this home since Tal's days in the Tal Shiar an age ago. The eldest tr'Ahalaen knew then, without looking up, that it was Elissa Skylark, his son's human fiancée, who had entered his personal space.

It was the first time an alien had ever set foot in this room. It was also the first time that Tal Vriha rose to greet an alien. It was a time of firsts for the Ahalaen.

"Jolan Tru," the old man said, nodding slightly in greeting as the slender human woman walked toward him, shy and nervous, "Please Elissa - ah...may I call you Elissa?"

"Jolan Tru, Lhhai tr'Ahalaen," she said with an exacting emphasis on dialect, wanting it to sound sincere and not like she was trying too hard. "Please do."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Of course, Senator."

"Elements," the old man grumbled, pointing to the chair across from him, "Sit down, girl. Yes...I'm a Senator to the ordinary stranger. You, however, are neither ordinary nor a stranger. Now I do not expect you to start calling me 'Father', but I will not have my children stand on formality with me. So I give you my name - you will call me Tal."

Elissa made a face, then nodded and smiled ever so slightly. "It seems disrespectful, is all... but I will. And this Intended thing... I'm not sure what to make of it yet, si... Tal. It was quite sudden."

"Yes...well, life is sudden. One learns to appreciate that...more or less," Tal Vriha began to sit down himself, then paused, "Ah...you will forgive me, my manners have rusted with age. Will you take something to drink?"

She sat down and nodded swiftly. "Please." The response was almost rushed, and her nervousness made it more pronounced.

tr'Ahalaen nodded and walked to a nearby desk, where a bottle with an orange beverage sat with two crystal glasses, "Aerv is very fond of this drink - this tranya - he keeps insisting it is better for me than good old fashioned ale. That boy has his head full of all kinds of new ideas. I'm still not quite sure where I went wrong with him."

"Wrong, Sir?"

"Eh? Ah - that is perhaps not the correct word," Tal Vriha admitted, walking back slowly and handing her the drink, "He is...not what I tried to make him, you know. That can be a regret for a father, at times, no matter how good the final result might be. I was once a Tal Shiar agent, you know. I had always thought he would follow in my footsteps...though back then, the Tal Shiar was much more than it is now."

She nodded knowingly, remembering the interrogation room not all that long ago. Thankfully, her time there had been brief. "I've met a few of them."

"Well...he is what he is - and that is good. He is, I think, a better man than I." The oldest tr'Ahalaen fixed his gaze, full of dark wisdom upon her, "You are fond of him, yes?"

She blushed and took a long sip from the drink. "Yes. I think so. I don't know what to think really, but... yes. I am," she finished more firmly.

Tal Vriha sat back in his chair and stared at her for a long time in silence. Then he said, "That is a very long answer."

Elissa finished her drink without realizing it. "This is a very short glass," she muttered under her breath, and set it down. "I'm sorry... Tal... it's just that I've been thinking about things a lot lately, and I'm not sure I can offer Aerv what he needs, and I don't want to make a selfish decision that I'm not even sure is the right one."

"That is very noble," the old man replied with a faint smile, "Though you are confusing your heart with your mind - a very bad habit. But tell me...what is it that has so occupied your thoughts lately? My oldest daughter...well, you are now my oldest.... Sharien believes you think too much - I don't think that is a bad thing...depending on what your thoughts dwell upon."

"I'm not sure if I told you you'd ever welcome me into your home again," Elissa said flatly.

"I do not know how things work in human families," Tal snapped, irritated, "But no daughter of mine will ever find the doors of this home closed to her." He took a deep breath, "Besides...as I said, I was in the Tal Shiar for a long time. I still have many friends there...and I do talk to them. Tell me what I already know. I want to hear you say it."

Her eyes welled up, and she felt stung, but all the more clear-minded for it. "I betrayed you. I failed you. I let people die... ch..." she wiped her eyes with her hand, "and I don't think I'll ever be sorry enough."

tr'Ahalaen laughed - it was not a cruel thing but it had a sharp ring to it. "Child...I ask you about your heart and you tell me about your mind. Then I ask you about your mind and you tell me about your heart. You are very confused. So I will ask you again, though I am not in the habit of doing so...tell me what happened."

"I hid when they came. I hid and I could hear people screaming. Children screaming. I... was so afraid, I stood by and did nothing. I had a duty as a Starfleet officer... as a human being..." she winced, "uh, sentient entity."

"So...you should have acted? What would you have done to save Rihannsu lives from the Hydrans, Elissa Skylark?"

"There was a disruptor in the house. I could have picked it up and fired."

"And what would that have done?"

"Killed a few Hydrans. Maybe saved a few people, too." She gritted her teeth and stared evenly at Tal.

"Ah yes...you would kill maybe two, perhaps three, before you were dead. And that would stop an army bent upon slaughter, yes? We killed them by the hundreds, and hundreds more came. But ah...if only Elissa Skylark had picked up a disruptor...."

"The point is," she growled, "I should have tried. If it had saved even that girl's life, it would have been worth it."

"But you wouldn't have...you know that. You are, I am told, quite brilliant. You would have died. And it would have been for nothing. What eats away at you is not truly guilt for cowardice, though I suspect... it is the guilt of impotence. The inability, in a moment where a miracle is required, to do anything... even a small thing, though useless it might be. It is the guilt of using your mind, when you wanted to use your heart. What eats away at you is horror and fear and shame."

"You told all of this to Aerv. Aerv knows this, yes? And he still loves you, despite it? Why do you think that is?"

Skylark twiddled her thumbs, and stared at her lap. "Maybe...blond?" She had a small smile that said she knew better, but it seemed a little more concrete to her to think in physical terms. Her eyes danced around the room before they caught his again, and she shrugged.

The elder tr'Ahalaen laughed, rose to his feet, and walked over to his desk. "When the head of a house accepts a new member into the family, he gives them a gift. In our family, it is traditionally a very princely gift - I was actually going to buy you a home, something over looking a lake, perhaps." Tal Vriha picked up a padd and offered it to her, "However, I have donated that money to a fund for helping the children effected by this war. I trust you do not mind."

Elissa took the padd, read it, and laughed, though tears came at the same moment. "No, that's... that's a perfect gift, Sir. Thank you."

"Elissa...there are two kinds of people in this universe, when all the differences are stripped away from us. There are those - like me - who are meant to fight, die and kill in wars and battles. And then there are those - like you and Aerv - who are meant to build, broker peace, and make sure that men like me will never have the run of things again." The old man walked over to her again, "You are meant to live...especially so beause you think you should have died. Aerv forgave you because of your tears, my daughter...he forgave you because the Elements sprung from you and stood witness to the pain in your heart...though what you did was natural and, in the grand scheme of things, even right."

Tal Vriha smiled, "And now I forgive for the same reason. And so, it is with pride and honor that I say...welcome home, Elissa."

She stood up slowly, and looked up at him with her shy smile. "I'm going to hug you now."

"A human hugging a Tal Shiar agent." Tal Vriha shook his head, "What am I going to do with that boy?"

"I'm Sorry...What Was That?"

SCPO. Renora Loret, Tactical Analyst

Aboard the USS Gage - 2367, The Battle Of Wolf 359

The computer spoke in it's impassive voice, seemingly unconcerned with the chaos around it.

[Warp Core Breach Imminent - All Crew Abandon Ship]

The fire roared at the far end of the corridor and some structural beams gave way collapsing one of the few exits remaining. Renora spun round to see how many of her team were left...three, including her...there had been ten.

One young cadet, a second year tactical officer in the making stood next to her tears streaming down his face mixed with the soot from the fires and the blood from a bad head wound. "Renora?"

The Bajoran crewman looked at him "We've got to get out soon, she won't be able to take another hit like that...hey." She put her hand on his shoulder. "You hang in there. We're going to get through this, the evac pods are only another twenty yards or so, just beyond this wreckage. Then we're safe.

"But...Aria...Marcus...they're...oh God..." The cadet started to sob uncontrollably. His outburst, however was cut short by another explosion only ten feet from them. the force of the blast threw them back against the metalwork, Renora grunted in pain."

"You okay?" The young man asked.

"Yeah, that was too close. Lets go."

[Warning Warp Core Breach In One Minute - All Crew Abandon Ship]

They began to haul themselves over the fallen girders and saw the entrance to one of the few remaining escape pods. They climbed over the rise and were about to enter the pod when a second shot rocked the ship and another flash erupted in their faces, throwing them back.

The pain was excruciating, Renora could feel her skin blistering from the burn already, this was second, however, to the dull throb where a piece of flying metal had caught her in the side. The screams of the cadet echoed in her ears even through the ringing sensation left by the blast.

Putting the cadet over her shoulder she helped him the last few feet to the already overfilled pod. Families mainly, some of them wounded, some of them missing a member who would never return. A medical officer was already tending to the wounds of the cadet, he didn't look hopeful.

[Warp Core Breach In Thirty Seconds - All Crew Abandon Ship]

Renora wen to pull the release handle when another hand slapped across it stopping her. "Look..." A hand pointed towards the fire and too the silhouette that was coming through it, the survival instinct strong even in those who should already be dead.

"There's no time...They're already gone." Renora gave one final tug and released the locking mechanism. The figure, almost at the door, was now on the other side of the door.

"Sorry..." Renora managed through the glass as the launch system flung the pod away from the ship with enough force to clear them of any potential blast zone. The battle raged on in the stars around them, but for the crew of the USS Gage...it was over. Renora slumped to the floor and started to cry.

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

Aboard the USS Galaxy - Present Day

"Chief? Did you hear me?"

Renora turned from the PADD containing their latest orders and turned to the crewman.

"Sorry crewman," she said with a sad smile, "I was light years away."

"How about her?"

Lt. JG Juliette Rinaldi JAG

First Lt. Steven Jonas Marine

Location: Ten Forward

Her steel blue eyes scanned the contents of the lounge, searching for anyone that would fit Steven. Arching out her index finger ever so slightly, she smiled. "There, the brunette....."

"Na, too bossy"

Rolling her eyes, she took a sip of her tea. "Your too picky Steven. Um...." Once again, her eyes darted back and forth as she tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind her ears. "Over in the corner....the blond."

"No" Steven replied.

"No? Good grief. I thought she was cute."

"She is," Steven replied, "but she's also in a relationship with one of the Brig officers. I saw here and him together while I spent that night in the brig after hitting the CAG." Sighing, Steven lent back on the couch and closed his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just, I don't know, I can't shake the feeling that trying to find someone is betraying Fay. Yeah, yeah, I know she's dead and all, but, I can't explain it. I guess it's cause I still love her so much. Despite what she did to me. I sound like an idiot, don't I?"

"No, you don't. However, your going to get no where if you sit and think about her...now...straighten up Mr. Marine and let's get searching. How about....her?"

"She's nice. But I think she's been around the block a few times, and I don't think she'd settle down."

Steven sipped the beverage he had before him. "What about you?"

"Me?" Her head drew back somewhat.

"Sorry, I mean, should I be looking for someone for you? You're single. Don't you want to find someone to be there for you?"

"Ohhh, no. I quite busy enough with my duties....and the hassle of dating just doesn't appeal to me all that much. I'm not saying I wouldn't go out with someone if they asked, I'm just not into anything more than friendship right now."

Steven nodded. "IS it really worth it? To start again and go through all the hassle of starting a relationship with one of these women?" he waved his hand around the bar, "only to have it fail yet again?"

"Why not? Take a risk."

"Cause my heart belongs to one woman. And I don't know if I'll ever get it back."

"You can at least try Jonas."

"I suppose. Ah, screw it. Fay's dead. She's not coming back. She'd want me to be happy right?"

"Of course she would."

"So who do you suggest now?"

"Um.....her....the red head."

"She's nice." Steven said before taking another sip of his drink. "You think I should go and talk to her?"

"Go..." She shooed him off with her hand then took another sip of her coffee, somewhat grinning as she saw him walk off.

Steven nodded and rose from his seat. As he slowly made his way over to the red head, Steven felt his stomach twisting and turning. It wasn't like with Fay. He had never been this nervous. He had not been nervous like this for ages. Even Jules didn't give him the nervous vibes that he was getting while walking towards the woman.

Her smile softened as she saw his nervousness. She wondered if it was like that for him the first time that they met in the pool. God, she was a flirt back then.

Steven made a sharp turn for the bar when he spotted another young man nearing the woman's table. Looking back towards Jules, he shrugged his shoulders and began walking back to her. "Oh well..."

"Let's see................"

Steven sat back down. "Can I ask you something?"

She turned her attention back to him for a moment, with raised eyebrows. "Sure."

"If that had been you over there, and I, rather than that guy, had just walked up to you and asked you out, what would you say?"

"I'd say yes." Jules blinked, then took another sip of her drink. It was easier than she had thought it would be to say that....at least, under the circumstances. Giving ten forward a cursory glance, her eyes fell upon her red headed 'assistant' at the doorway and she scowled at his appearance. "But, then again, that would be in that situation."

"And if I was to ask you out right here and now?"

"I....uh...." She narrowed her eyes at the red head as he simply nodded his head and called her over. "Gotta go....my assistant needs something. Talk to you soon Lt. Jonas."

"Okay, sure" Steven replied, unsure if he had just scared her off.

Walking over, she frowned at the man that towered over her. "It's nothing......."

Sighing, Steven finished his drink and rose to his feet. Seeing the redhead smiling and enjoying the company of the stranger, Steven sighed again and headed back to the Marine barracks. Damn you Fay, he thought to himself as he trudged along, look what you've reduced me to.

"Duty exaggerated"

Lt. JG Juliette Rinaldi JAG

1st Lt. Steven Jonas Marine

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

She sat, exactly in the same spot she always did. Securely behind the safety of her desk as she narrowed her eyes at the Marine who sat opposite of her.

"Lt. Jonas. Care to give me your side of the story that led to the assault charges that the Major has brought against you?"

Steven shifted uncomfortably. It was weird to be back in her office again. Even if it wasn't her office anymore. It had been redecorated. Made to look different, yet Steven had felt a wave of feelings about Faylin as he had entered. He would have preferred to have done this elsewhere.

Clearing his throat he looked up from the floor, the only place that didn't remind him of Faylin, and directed his gaze to the blonde Trill sitting before him. Well, do you remember how I said my wife was the previous JAG?"

"Yes." She replied softly.

"This is painful for me, but I guess you need to know... She and I got married one morning a week or so ago. She practically dragged me down to the chapel. It was quick. And then we were husband and wife. Yet less than half a day later, she tried to take her own life by injecting some poison. Without any explanation, I might add. Well she died. The love of my life died. And I was hurting."

Blinking slowly, she nodded.

"So imagine my surprise when I found out that the day before she jumped into my arms and professed her love for me, almost two months ago now, she slept with another man, the CAG, Rex." Steven paused, to try and stop the tears before they came.

"I see." She kept her comments to herself, knowing that they would enrage him. Besides, she was supposed to be impartial.

Steven looked down. "I had been heartbroken at her death, that she couldn't even talk to me, but hearing that she had slept with a man, mere hours before claiming she loved me, well that was too much and given that the whole way through our relationship, I had talked about wanting an honest relationship, I felt betrayed by her and just lost it. She was dead and I couldn't talk to her, so in a blind rage, I took it out on him. He didn't deserve it and I'm deeply sorry for what happened. I was blinded by the feelings of betrayal that had risen up in me."

"Steven, I'm not one to judge." She paused, shaking her head and slightly grinning. "Okay, I am one to judge. However, in this situation, it appears that you acted unprofessionally due to a rather serious and grave personal situation. Mind you, it does not negate what you did in any fashion, and you still are responsible for your actions regardless of your emotion state if you are found fit for duty. And, seeing that you are..." She paused, taking a sip of her drink. "I will see what I can do concerning this situation that is fair to all parties involved."

Steven just nodded. "I know I acted wrong. I just couldn't help it. She hurt me so bad by deceiving me. After all I did for her. I would have given my life for that woman, would have gone to the gates of hell for her, and that was how she repaid me. It made me angry."

"Now, off the record, how are you?"

"I'm not doing so well. Her death and betrayal of my trust is eating away at me. I can feel it. The only thing keeping me going is my work. I..." He was unable to continue. Drawing a deep breath he counted down from ten in his head before speaking again. "Why would she do such a mean thing to me? How could she be so mean, so uncaring as to hide that she slept with a guy like that? That she could go through the charade of marriage only to kill herself?"

Rinaldi cleared her throat. "Well, honestly I don't know why someone would do that. Perhaps, she was attempting to move on, and found out that it didn't work. Thoughts of you kept running through her head. As far as killing herself, that I can't answer for you." 'Well, I can...just not right now.' She thought as she smirked a little bit. "Have you thought about trying to move on with your life? She obviously was not very good to you......"

"And she slept with him after I told her how I really felt about her. That I thought of her as my soul mate. And to go from that, to sleeping with another man to then claiming that she loved me and wanted to be with me. It's just... I don't know. It's just fraked up." Steven shook his head. He had come here at her insistence to talk about what he had done to Rex, but this was taking a strange turn, bringing up painful memories. "An I'd love to move on... It's just, that even with all she did, all the hurt she has caused me, I still love her, I still love Fay deeply."

"I understand. My husband did some things that I don't understand....along the same lines. Yet, I forgave him, knowing that when he did what he did, we were not together. You can't hold her accountable for things that happened while you were apart, even if it was minutes up to that point where you got back together Lt. Once you and her were together, she didn't cheat on you then....so....in the big picture, she was faithful to you when you were together, wasn't she?"

"At the very start of our relationship, something happened that I'm not very proud of. Similar, it seems, to what your husband did, I believe. So please understand when I say that I have no problem that she slept with the CAG. We had been broken up for some time by then and weren't together. I accept that she did what she did. See with me, when I slipped up, I told her. I was honest about it to her. We weren't really in a relationship then, but I wanted an honest relationship and told her. Much like you, she forgave me. What really hurts, what made me so mad, is that she knew I wanted an honest relationship, and yet she hid her night with him from me. She blatantly hid it from me. Just like her, I would have been mad, angry for a while, but I know I would have forgiven her. But no, she hid it from me, deceiving me, manipulating me. That's mostly what I am angry about."

"And how did she feel about your cheating on her Lt. Jonas? Was she angry and hurt?"

"I know she was hurt. I understand that. Just like I'm hurt. But it feels like she was deliberately trying to hurt me; to make me suffer. All she had to do was be honest."

"It's the same situation, in reverse." Her eyes flashed dangerously as she attempted to hide the anger she felt bubbling up inside. "You sentence her to death for a single mistake."

"Excuse me? I never sentenced her to death. I loved her more than I've loved any woman, ever. It's just that I can not understand how she could be so deceitful. All she had to do was be honest. Marriage is built on trust. A relationship is built on trust. She betrayed that. Besides, why are you taking her side? You never knew her. She died before you came aboard. People are supposed to be supportive of someone who has just lost the love of their life. Not attack them trying to lay the blame on her death upon them. She was the one who took her own life. I did nothing to provoke it. I was always honest. I was always loyal to her once we got back together. Now if you don't mind, can we either get back to the original topic or talk about something else? Cause all this talk about Faylin is dredging up painful memories. And without her around, I don't think I can handle it anymore."

"How did you do it before you met her, your daily life? Go back to that. Find hobbies, date again. Let her die in side of you if she hurt you that bad. Do you think she'd want you moping around remembering her constantly? Hell no she wouldn't. She'd want you back in the game, living life and finding love again. I bet, where ever she's at, she's busy finding someone to send to you, or someone that she already has sent to you. You need to respect her memory, yet move on, especially if she did all those nasty things to you. You deserve to find someone who will love you with the love you deserve Steven."

"I want to, I really do, I just... I miss her so much." Steven sighed. "Besides, all the women I know are all married or in relationships."

"That's painfully apparent." She stated quietly. "I'm sure if you just look around, someone will pop out of no where and sweep you off your feet yet again." Jules offered him a quick smile, before hiding her expression behind a coffee cup. "Besides, these things take time, they don't just happen over night." 'Do they ever take time.' She thought to herself.

Steven sighed. "With my last two relationships torn to shreds by death, I don't think I'm ever going to find happiness."

"Death only has a grip on you if you let him....erm.....it." She muttered. 'Damn it!' She bellowed to herself as she sat and nervously took another drink of her tea. Placing the cup down, she swallowed and offered him a soft smile. "Is there anything else I can help you with Lt. Jonas?"

"Um, are you sure I should be looking for someone? Fay's only been dead for a short time."

She chuckled slightly. "Lt. Jonas, I didn't say grab the first woman you meet, beat her over the head with a club, and drag her back to your cave."

"I've never beaten any woman over the head with a club and dragged her back to my cave. Not yet anyway. Is that where I've been going wrong?" He grinned.

"Possibly. Just open yourself up to the possibilities around you......you never know."

Steven sighed. "It's not as easy as it sounds. I've only been on one date in the last 7 years. And that was with my late wife."

"Wow. A little rusty?"

"You couldn't help me out could you?"

"Well, quite honestly, I don't know anyone much of this ship. I just got here myself. But, I could ask around for you."

"Perhaps you could... na, never mind." He waved the question he was going to ask away. It would be too weird to have her do that.

"What Lt.?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a drink with me in Ten Forward sometime."

"As long as it stays professional. There's this tiny little legal term called conflict of interest that can turn into a big nasty problem if it goes beyond business. If I went out with you, then I'd have to go out with Rex to be fair...and we both know where that would lead us. So, professionally speaking, how can I help you while we are partaking of a beverage in a public setting?"

"You might be able to help point out suitable candidates." he smiled.

"Ah, a judge's opinion on suitable candidates....sounds professional enough for me. And, I could perform a background check, just before you asked one out. However, seeing that this goes above and beyond the realm of normal Starfleet legalities, I might have to charge you like an old fashioned attorney." She offered her professional smile that was laced with humor.

Okay that hadn't quite turned out like he had hoped. A simple drink in ten forward with a friend while pointing out women that might be more reliable than Fay was all he really wanted. "I guess that sounds okay. Though I hadn't thought about having any background checks and the like. When are you free?"

"I was kidding about the background checks Steven. 7?"

"That sounds fine. Shall I meet you there?" What had he just gotten himself into? It had only been a couple of weeks. Was he really ready for this? Damn Fay, why did you have to take your life?

"Sounds good to me...I'll see you then."

"Thoughts Interrupted"

Lt. JG Juliette Rinaldi JAG

Cmdr. Brian Elessidil

Location: Elessidil's Office

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

She sighed heavily. All the paperwork associated with coming on board had to be completed again. Jules had already done this, well, in a previous life. And, it had to be done yet again to satisfy Starfleet. Monotonous as it was, it was interesting in a way in regards to meeting all the people she already knew.

Gaining permission to enter, Juliette stepped forward into his office. Offering a charming smile, she held out her delicate hand and spoke in a Southern drawl. "Hello there Counselor. I'm here for my appointment. Lt. Juliette Rinaldi....JAG."

"Hi, Lieutenant, please come in," Counselor Elessidil replied with his usual welcoming smile as he shook her hand. A fairly standard overview for new crew, Brian had been expecting her, but he could tell immediately there was something very odd about this woman: he had absolutely no telepathic or empathic sense of her, and since she wasn't Breen or Ferengi or some other "unreadable" species, it was unexpected.

"I promise not to take too much of your time," he said, gesturing to the cluster of chairs and couch that sat on the other side of his office. "When did you come aboard?"

"Just recently." Juliette simply offered. She brought her hand up to the choker around the base of her neck that was hidden from view. Word had it, this counselor was a telepath...so it would be quite interesting to see if he questioned her ability to block him. Her eyes narrowed somewhat, studying him with a curiosity.

Brian seated himself on a chair across from her, trying not to let her unreadability distract him. Betazoids -- particularly Betazoids in Starfleet -- were used to encountering species that were telepathically and empathically "invisible" to them, but it was like having a conversation with someone who was wearing a long, opaque veil; it was impossible not to notice. "If you have any concerns or questions regarding your assignment aboard the Galaxy or anything else, you're welcome to talk to me any time. For today though, we just need to go through the usual intake rituals to see where you are and what you're coming from, psychologically speaking."

"Alright. Anything to get me working. I grow bored easily counselor." She arched her eyebrows, hiding her mouth behind the mug of tea that she brought with her.

"Well then we'll try to keep things as interesting as possible. So, how did you end up with us?" he asked somewhat humorously.

"I was previously assigned to the Delphina as their JAG. Upon hearing that an opening had occurred on the Galaxy, I requested a transfer. And, obviously, it was granted." Her personality was cool, hinting at knowledge Brian did not have...yet.

"Obviously," he agreed with a short nod. "Were there any particular reasons you requested the transfer?"

"Excuse me?" she softly questioned.

"Any reasons you wanted to leave the Delphina?" he asked again, taking note of her apparent distraction.

"None that are extremely note worthy. Just a change of scenery for the most part. Meet new people, that sort of thing." Jules finished her statement, inwardly smirking wondering when she had perfected the art of lying. "The Galaxy has quite a reputation...a good one...don't get me wrong."

Brian observed her mannerisms as he listened, intrigued mostly by what he *wasn't* seeing.

"I heard the previous JAG met with an unfortunate end to her life. Why anyone would take their own life is beyond my comprehension." Her eyes shifted, taking in her surroundings, faking interest when she had been here before. Smiling somewhat wryly, she started to take note of his uncomfortable stance. "Is something wrong counselor?"

Telepathy wasn't necessary to see that Rinaldi was not only aware that she was unreadable from the Betazoid's perspective, she seemed to enjoy it.

"I wouldn't say anythings necessarily 'wrong', Lieutenant, but I am curious. Forgive me for saying so, but you appear somewhat 'hollow' to me; I get no telepathic or empathic sense of you and that's pretty rare, especially among Terrans. Do you know of any reason why that would be?"

"Ah, yes." She thought for a moment, wondering if the "I would tell you, but then I'd have to kill you' line would work, but then.....she wasn't allowed to do that anymore. "In my past, I've had some cases that have permitted me to know certain information that, if exposed to the general public at large, would cause chaos. I've been outfitted with a device that 'blocks' my thoughts from certain races." Jules stopped short, hoping that he would not pry any more into the real reason she had the 'jewelry' on her. "No offense."

"None taken. I assume then it's the necklace?" he asked, having observed her touching it more than once so far. He was also curious that what she said hadn't been noted in her file.

"Yes." Jules stated simply. She was still icy in her responses, it was her protective measure she permitted herself to stay on track.

"I don't think I need to know what the information is to figure it must be a fairly significant burden for you at times. Information that has to be totally obscured usually isn't trivial."

"It is a burden that will be relieved at some point in the future. But until that point in time, it is my ball and chain.....so to speak counselor." She paused, sweeping a piece of blond hair from her face. "It does not hinder my abilities to perform my duties. I have had this necklace for a long time."

"Sounds like you've had an interesting life so far. Can you tell me about it? Excluding anything that's classified, of course."

"Um...sure." 'Crap!!!! Crap crap crap!" Jules thought forcefully to herself. Background information...geesh.

"Well, I was born in Atlanta, Georgia...on Earth..." 'Of course on Earth you idiot!' She thought to herself yet again. "My mother was a stay at home mom who took care of my brother and I. She was Miss Universe....very pretty. My father....is a joined Trill and Captain of the USS Nassau....a Prometheus vessel. He was home when he could, but my brother and I didn't see much of him...not that it was that bad...my mother compensated for his shortcomings as a parent. She came from 'old' money, and afforded us every luxury."

Her story sounded unusual, but not implausible. Under normal circumstances, Elessidil would have known if she were lying, but in this case he could only take her words at face value.

"I grew up with a quiet life. We were surrounded by tutors in almost every subject, went to private schools, and I broke the norm when I stated I wanted to join Starfleet. My father was for it, however, my mother was of the belief that I needed to find a husband and worry about up keeping a home. Marry an Ambassador." Jules smirked at that.

'If you only knew,' she thought as she continued. "However, I did join Starfleet, focused on law....served on the Delphina....and here I am." Rinaldi took a sip of her tea. She wondered if he would buy it. "The other stuff...I can't tell you." Her nose wrinkled in a rather cute, yet snobbish manner.

"I can't imagine the other stuff could be as interesting. So why did you decide on a career in Starfleet? Did your mother take your decision well?"

"Not really. However, she has grown to accept it, over the years." She paused, not sure what else to say. "However, I doubt your line of questioning is pertinent to getting me into my job any faster. So, let's just stick to the questions you are required to ask, then at a later date, I'll be more open." Her tone suddenly turned rather protective.

"Actually my line of questioning is very pertinent, Lieutenant. Understanding something about your background is important to understanding you." He wasn't at all convinced she would ever be more open voluntarily. "But if it would make you feel more comfortable to move on to the standard laundry list we can do that. These questions will pertain only to the past three years. Have you suffered from any mental or psychological impairment or trauma?"

"No." 'Yesssss....' She thought inwardly.

"Have you had difficulty performing your duties or interacting with others?"

"No." Came the verbal reply.

"Have you experienced sudden or drastic changes in mood, sleeping patterns, or appetite?"

"No."

"Have you attempted suicide or had suicidal thoughts?"

"No." She paused, thinking inwardly. 'How about Inner Sanctum required suicide?' She offered him a small smile.

"Have you suffered severe or long-lasting emotional trauma following a combat situation?"

"No." she stated flatly. "I'm a JAG, my home is my office."

After several more minutes of going through the litany of questions that were part of the standard Starfleet psychological assessment, Brian grinned. "Feel better?"

"Oh boy, do I ever!" Came the enthusiastic reply.

"Lieutenant, despite your concerns I'm not interested in nailing you as unfit for duty. In fact, I don't think there's any reason to consider anything but capable and able to take on the responsibilities of your assignment. But you do carry a burden that is very atypical for most new officers on this ship and I'm more interested in knowing that you recognize that and that you not become so self-protecting that you aren't able or willing to deal with it if necessary."

"I have been able to deal with my 'burden' so far in my career and personal life counselor. I foresee nothing in the future that would derail that ability. Anything else?"

"Just remember that my door is open if you ever want to take advantage of that," he replied. "Much of the future is often unforeseen."

"The future is what you make of it counselor, unforeseen or not." She replied quietly before walking out the door.

"Friends, pt. 1"

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe
Assistant Chief of Engineering

First Lieutenant Steven Jonas
CO - Second Platoon

**** Arboretum ****

Steven heard the footsteps behind him but paid them no heed. People always came and went down here. It was after all, one of the nicer spots to just go and think, which was why he was here. He couldn't explain it, but just by being around such beautiful plants and flowers allowed him to relax, letting the days troubles slip away. Though these days, there wasn't much but trouble and pain in his life. Everything had been going so well in his life only to come crashing down around him. Most notably his recent revelation that Fay had deceived him harshly. That and his night in the brig for what he did about it. Life was just so peachy these days.

Pushing through the foliage Dhani whistled loudly and tapped her upper thighs with the palms of her hands, "Here Pecker, Pecker!" she called out affectionately with a trace of mock excitement in her tone. As Peckerwood came bounding over the grass towards her Dhani beamed back. "There's a good… dog!" she settled, ruffling its ears. She had no idea if Peckerwood was a male of female creature, the thought had never really entered her head to check, and honestly she didn't know the first thing about canines.

She didn't realize that she would be looking after this 'thing' for long, just housing it for a wee while until O'Shea was fixed up. And now she was the 'owner' of it… she frowned, didn't you need to have some sort of certificate stating that you were capable of looking after an animal? She could barley look after her self. Salem was different, he was a cat and they were notorious for being able to cope without huminoids, but dogs… she watched as the stick flew from her hand and Peckerwood's eyes widened, tongue hung out over serrated teeth and a huge glob of drool made its slimy way down to ground before it broke up into small droplets, spraying her, as the dumb animal turned sharply in the direction of the stick, with the same unbridled enthusiasm as the *first* time she had thrown it, and the second, and third… stopping in her tracks she shook her head and wiped the globs off her face and uniform; stupid animal, what's the point of it? So you throw something away, i! t goes and gets it… but what if I *want* it to *stay* in the garbage?

Steven almost jumped at the sound. He had thought the person had walked by, and was surprised that they had stopped. "Ah, you found me." he said, having found his voice. "How are you Dhani?" he asked as he turned around.

Dhanishta smiled through her confused expression, drawing her eyes away from Peckerwood she smiled down at him, "I'm good." she replied as she eyed the ground. Picking a spot that looked dry she squatted down next to him and let out a sigh of contentment, happy to be distracted.

This was the one place that people who wanted to be alone with their thoughts rarely were. It was an odd notion, but when people came in here it was because they had the time to sit and reflect. Most of them wanted to be left in peace, yet because they had the time to sit and do nothing, that peace was seldom found. Those that passed by stopped to chat; just like she was doing now. In the lengthy halls and corridors that spanned the length and breath of the mighty USS Galaxy, the crew, civilian and enlisted alike, scurried about, hands full, minds jammed with information, tasks, the latest gossip, burning with that missed out come back to the group in the mess hall… all of them rushed through the halls head-bound with whatever it was that they were supposed to be doing; no one took a moment to look up and see what, and who, was passing them by.

No one paused lazily in the halls for a catch up chat these days. She hadn't seen anyone just strolling on their way to work; everything was always at a feverish pace. And so when the moment presented itself, as unwelcome as the intrusion to the personal reflection might be, she took the opportunity to pause and talk. So many people had passed her by, too many. It made their passing easier as they had not been a huge part of her life, but something inside her begged for that void to be filled, that void that was only partly aware of its own existence.

"At least someone is," he replied as he bent down to scratch the dog under the chin. He hadn't meant to sound so cold, yet it was how he had been feeling since Faylin had died.

Dhanishta sighed heavily. Nodding slightly in sympathy for she knew all to well what he was going through. "If it's any consolation that 'yeah I'm good' is my automated answer, that doesn't mean that I am happy, or joyful or that my life is totally awesome… it's just a universal reply, because lets face it if there was something wrong, like perhaps I put odd socks on this morning and have been heckled all day over it, I'm not likely to sit here and complain about it." 'Especially to you' she added silently to her nervous rambling monologue.

"Sorry, just feeling miserable these days." Having Faylin gone was one thing, but to see all her stuff every time he went to their quarters after work kept up the reminder that she was gone, never to return. And it made it that much harder for him to resist hitting the bottle again.

"It gets easier." Dhani said wisely placing her hand on his arm gently. "After a while the memories of pain fade to leave you with the happy moments to reflect upon." She smiled limply as she stared out across the grass. Pecker was roaming, sniffing everything in sight. Picking up the abandoned stick she began to peal that bark from it, reflecting on her own painful past. Things had been different for her, she had loved another, but there were many that thought she was incapable of doing so back then, even the one that she had given her heart to. In part she agreed with them, with him and his reasons for leaving her. She had been a very different person then. But she still remembered the day he 'died', she remembered the pain from the reveal of his deceit; something that she could never tell anyone. The man she had loved still lived. He was out there somewhere, living his life in the shadows, and because of that she had never been able to grieve; only hate. In real! ity her words were simply echoes of other wise men and women.

Time hadn't made the pain dissipate for Dhani, only morph it into anger and bitterness. She cast an eye to Jonas. At least the love of his life loved him back. At least her final moments had been spent with him, in his arms, telling him just how much she did love him.

Her fiancés last moments were not as rosey. She snorted slightly and shifted uncomfortably. "Wanna get some coffee?" she asked breaking the silence that had descended.

Steven nodded. "Sure." He had nothing better to do, and talking over coffee sounded much more fun than sitting and thinking about Fay. "I'd like that."

Dhani nodded and stood up, dusting her pants down she whistled at Peckerwood, who obligingly padded over. "Where do you fancy going?" she asked him as they walked out of the arboretum, "I have heard that there are some interesting places on Deep Space Five, I haven't actually been over there yet."

"That sounds like a plan. I've only been there a couple of times." He wasn't going to mention that the last time he had been there, he, or rather Faylin, had been attacked. But spending time with Dhani would hopefully allow him some time away from his grief. Looking down at the obedient dog, he sighed. "I guess I have to bring Kronos here sometime for a walk."

"Qo'no'S?" Dhani queried, "Like the Klingon home world?"

"Kronos was Faylin's dog. I guess since we were married that the dog is now mine. Not that I know what to do it. Every time I see it, I'm reminded of Fay." He closed his eyes as he sniffled.

Dhani touched his arm affectionately. "It gets easier." she told him again. Her words sounded meaningless and flat as she heard them aloud. Part of her longed to tell him of her past relationship, she wanted him to know that she really did understand. It wasn't that she was pretending too, or saying these things to pacify him, regurgitating some line from other wise men and women - or some just down right dumb fucks! It was because in her heart, she knew them to be true. Time did make things better. Her relationship with Michael was proof that everyone got a second chance. The universe was not so cruel as to grant a person such as her a second chance at love and not someone as true of heart as Steven.

"Shall we go?" Steven asked quietly.

Dhani sighed to herself. The intention was there to tell him, but she hadn't told anyone about Chang. There was only one person on this boat that knew him and that was more than enough. She glanced at Stevens dejected and forlorn face from the corner of her eye. Shaking her head gently to herself she nodded to his question, "Sure, lets."

In truth it would make no difference to how he felt or what he was going through if she told him. Perhaps it was a burden that she needed to get off her chest; maybe that was why part of her yearned to tell him. But if that was the case it was not something she could justify; adding to the weight already on his shoulders, to simply relive her own.

Steven matched Dhani's pace as they walked from the Arboretum. Peckerwood followed at his master's heel. "Have you ever been base jumping before?" Steven asked, trying to direct the conversation away from his thoughts of Faylin.

"Base jumping?" Dhani repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"It's a thrill ride to jump off of buildings and bridges with just a parachute. Gets the adrenaline pumping." He thought about adding that the rush it and so many of the other things he had been doing in the past few days, gave him allowed him to forget about Faylin for a short time.

Dhani paused in her steps and stared at Steven. He turned to look at her, most likely curious as to why she had stopped. She just grinned in return and then caught up to him, "Has anyone ever told you just how weird you are?" she asked him through her smile. She shook her head again and chuckled softly.

Stepping onto the promenade of the station was a strange experience. His thoughts returned to the attack on their lives that had occurred recently. It seemed like months but had only been a few weeks ago. The sound of a street merchant yelling for customers drew his attention away from the past and to the present. Looking at what the man was selling, dirty looking rugs, Steven shook his head as he and Dhani moved along looking for somewhere to get coffee.

"Here looks good." Dhani said a few minutes later, "Not as flee infested as those carpets." she joked nudging his arm as they diverted towards the cafe.

"Friends, pt. 2"

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe
Assistant Chief of Engineering

First Lieutenant Steven Jonas
CO - Second Platoon

**** A Cafe Deep Space Five ****

A few minutes later they were sitting down over steaming mugs of the dark beverage. "So," Dhani began steepling her fingers above her coffee as she rested her elbows on the table, "what else is going on with you?"

"You mean other than spending hour after agonizing hour trying to figure out why Faylin would take her own life hours after she and I got married?" Steven said with a chuckle. "The new Marines have been a handful trying to get settled in. And with Bran still not allowed to do much, I've spent ages trying to get everything in order for her eventual return to active duty. How about you?" Steven took a sip of his coffee.

Dhani shrugged, "Well, work really." she replied, "I am still a hermit by most standards. Even though Kala is now living with me and Michael… somehow I thought she would get me out more, but we haven't, not much at any rate. I think she is adjusting to life in the Fleet. The ship was pretty screwed, but then it's like that after most missions. I must have crawled through every inch of that ship at least a million times over in the last month." she sighed and took a sip of her coffee.

Steven nodded at what she was saying. Just as he thought, there had been a lot to do to get the ship in order again after the pounding it had taken. There hadn't been much damage to his small quarters in the Marine country, but then again, he didn't have much that could have been damaged. The Marine commons, had been another matter entirely. It had all been cleaned up quickly though, the Marines had seen to that. "Sounds like they kept you quite busy." he smiled as he lowered the coffee cup again.

Dhani nodded and rested the cup in its saucer, "Ya know I quite like that. Without my job I think I would be lost. It keeps me focused. I guess it's an escape for all of us really." she mused. As she sat there smiling pleasantly sitting with a 'friend' drinking coffee - something normal, that friends do, she felt as if she were in a play. None of this felt natural. And what was most disconcerting was as she sat there listening to him all she could think about was the Hammer. She had failed him on the Hammer, she knew that. Yet neither one of them had brought it up. Dhani hadn't noted the events from that little excursion in her official log. She had half been waiting for the Captain to call her up and ask her to explain the inconsistencies. She stared into her cup wondering if she had the guts to ask Steven what he put in his log. Did he tell them what she did to the Hydran? How she tortured him with pleasure. Did he tell them how she froze in the corridor, wet! her pants with fear? She plastered another fake smile to her face and continued the shared of normality.

Steven smiled. "I know what you mean. Getting stuck into work always helps me forget my troubles for a while." That and the crazy stunts I've begun doing in the holodeck, Steven thought to himself. It was nice to just sit and talk with friends every once in a while. "And any time I can focus on something other than my fraked up life, I can actually function like a normal person for a short while."

Dhani nodded and actually let herself laugh at that. "I agree. I know that there are counselors on board, but I prefer my own therapy; room 101 denial in Engineering!" she smiled and chuckled. "If you want I can get you in on the course." she offered.

Steven laughed, nearly spilling the coffee that he was sipping. "Thanks, but I've already moved on to room 102 'Coping with loss'. We have meetings every few minutes while I'm awake."

Dhani giggled spilling her coffee onto the table, "Is that coupled with marine training in the gym?"

Steven noticed a couple at the table behind Dhani kissing and his smile turned to a frown as thoughts of Faylin came flooding back. He looked down at his coffee, stifled a sniffle and swirled the hot beverage around in the mug.

Dhanishta noted the expression on his face and glanced over her shoulder. She sighed slightly, "Maybe coffee wasn't such a good idea." she said simply. She shook her head and placed her hand over Stevens. "Reminders are going to be everywhere, just remember that whenever you wanna talk, or simply hang out, you are always welcome, you don't need to explain, you just come over; okay?"

"Thanks. I do know that reminders are going to be everywhere, but I'm a Marine; I'm supposed to be tough; better than to blubber at the first remembrance of Faylin." Steven drank the rest of his coffee in one go, letting the liquid fill him with the usual warm buzz. "It's just going to take time."

Dhani smiled warmly at him, "Steven, don't do that. You are a person with feelings, not a machine. You are allowed to grieve, it is expected." she reached over and took his hands, "Just a word of advice; you want to 'take it out' on something in a violent way, you go to the holodeck and deck a replica of Rex. Don't go punching superior officers. Okay?" she asked him squeezing his hands to get his attention.

"You know about that?"

Dhani giggled, "Steve, everyone knows, gees you don't expect news like that not to spread, this is the Galaxy!" she grinned. "If it's any consolation I have also spent some time in the brig. Once I *ahem* broke an ambassadors nose." she cringed, "I spent two days in thee brig."

"You? No way." Steven replied.

She leaned in a little closer, "I have," she said, "punched my superior officer once, it didn't get noted though. Mainly cause I missed and hit the wall, subsequently breaking my hand!" she leaned back, "And that's between you, me and the dog!" she leant down and stroked Peckerwood for a moment as 'he' rested on her feet, "No one knows about that. If it gets out I know who I'm decking next!" she added with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah. I won't be telling anyone." Steven smiled. "I did have my reasons for doing what I did. They were misguided and had I taken the time to think about it, I wouldn't have decked him. But blind rage does push reason and logic out the window."

"Oh?" Dhani enquired with a raised eyebrow wondering what on earth Rex had done to piss Steven off.

Steven shook his head. "If you're okay with it, I'd rather not talk about it right now. It's a sore subject for me."

Dhani nodded with understanding, she herself wasn't an open person either; especially when it concerned private things. "No problem." she said casually waving off the uncomfortable topic. "Want another?" she asked inclining her head towards his empty mug.

"Yeah, sure." Steven replied. She was bound to hear about why he hit Rex via the usual gossip grapevine soon enough. Reaching down, he gave Peckerwood a rub under the chin while Dhani ordered them some more coffee.

Returning with another two steaming mugs Dhani paused in her step to look down affectingly at Pecker. He/she, had been sitting under the table patiently, just relaxing. The animal wasn't much of a fuss, didn't make a racket. She was impressed with the way it had handled the transition, when she first retrieved the canine from the kennels it was skittish, far from the calm dog she had seen at the feet of her former CO. But after a few months of a little TLC, and even a few trips to the kennels - which Dhani had worried about, yet still the animal had pulled through the re-homing and settled.

Setting the mugs down on the table Dhani disappeared off to the counter again and returned with a treat and a bowl of water for Pecker. Setting it down in-front of 'him' she waited a few seconds before nodding, "Go on then." she said quietly. Smiling in satisfaction at the obedience of the creature she sat down and petted 'him' slightly whilst he drank. For a moment she lost herself in reflection at the former owner of the animal. Her heart sank as she thought of O'Shea, wondering what the woman was going through, wondering if she was ever going to come back.

Steven sipped the coffee as Dhani played with the dog. He'd have to go back to the ship in an hour or so. He had been asked to attend the party for the Admiral, though after what he had done the afternoon before, he wasn't sure why he was still invited. "Are you going to the Admiral's party?"

Dhani shrugged, "Probably not." she replied. Mingling with the brass was not her idea of fun. And it wasn't as if she were in a position to be requested to attend.

"I got drafted, even after what I did yesterday."

"Really?" Dhani inquired slightly surprised. She pursed her lips wondering why a marine was required to attend and not her… she shrugged, it would only matter if she cared, and she didn't.

"Tip of the day, don't punch the Admiralty!" she giggled slightly smiling at him mischievously.

"Therapy"

Cmdr. Brian Elessidil
Asst. Chief Counselor

Ensign Todd Proctor
NPC

Reading over his appointments for the rest of the week, Brian sighed, the day's earlier session with Lt. Rinaldi still fresh in his mind.

More intake assessments. A lot of them.

Tended to happen when ships got anywhere near a starbase. The sessions were usually fairly standard, and the person being reviewed was usually mildly miffed to practically belligerent about having to be there. An uncooperative participant in a thoroughly unremarkable situation: the very definition of tedium. Yet it came with the territory. Not every session could be a major breakthrough for someone in the midst of a real crisis.

When the door chime rang, as it always inevitably did, Elessidil stood from his desk, and tugging at the bottom of his tunic, resigned himself to the fact that he had a job to do.

"Ensign Proctor," he greeted as a scowling blond-haired young man passed through the open doorway. "Hi, I'm Counselor Elessidil," he said warmly, extending his hand as usual.

The ensign managed barely a nod and seemed only to return the gesture because it had been initiated by a significantly higher-ranking officer. "Counselor."

"Please, have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thanks."

"Okay, then let's get started," Brian agreed, seating himself on the couch across from the chair now occupied by the young man. "You've been aboard what, three days now?"

"Two."

"Two," Brian echoed, nodding slightly. "How have things been going so far?"

"Fine."

Inwardly, the counselor sighed. He could already feel his blood pressure rising. Another young officer with some kind of anti-counselor axe to grind. He decided to make one more attempt to be personable before giving in and reciting the list of standard questions just to get the guy out of his office.

"You're not related to Admiral Proctor by any chance, are you?" It wasn't a far-fetched possibility, as the ensign seemed to share not only her last name, but her acerbic demeanor as well.

"No."

"Ensign, are you even capable of multi-syllabic words?" Brian finally asked out of exasperation. This seemed to get Proctor's attention, as he blinked at the unexpected rebuttal.

"Yes," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "I am capable of multi-syllabic speech, Counselor."

"Really? Could have fooled me," Brian tartly replied.

This time Proctor's mouth opened the slightest bit. Apparently previous counselors had either been totally intimidated by the guy's attitude or had simply given up on any kind of conversation out of frustration.

"In fact, I'm not sensing much in the way of signs of intelligence in you at all."

"You read my-"

"Thoughts. Yes, Ensign, I did, such as they are. In fact," Brian continued, coming to his feet, "I'd read more if the material were the least bit worthwhile."

Ensign Proctor was clearly taken aback by Elessidil's change in demeanor. "Counselor, I-"

"Shut up you little prick. You know what pisses me off about people like you? You come in here packin' attitude, thinking we're just here to 'get into your head' or somehow subvert your precious..autonomy, or whatever." He was pacing a little now, a foreign dark fire reflected in his Betazoid eyes.

For his part, Proctor just sat, dumbfounded.

"Let me make something clear to you, Ensign -- and you can take this back to all your equally insipid friends -- I have *much* better things to think about than whatever wasted chemical processes are swirling around in your head."

The now distressed young man tried to protest, "But I didn't mean to-"

"Yes you did," Brian interrupted, suddenly slamming his hands on the arms of Proctor's chair so he could get right up in his face. "You marched your sorry ass in here only because you had to and you made up your mind before a word was exchanged that you were going to make this as difficult a session as possible; just so you could boost your own pathetic little ego and make it seem like you had the last laugh. Well guess what, Ensign? I ain't laughin' and neither are you. Inside, you're in a panic, wondering what the hell happened and desperately trying to think of a way to get out of here before the crackpot counselor really snaps. Fuck you and your attitude, you pile of chromosomal refuse!" he added, pushing off Proctor's chair for emphasis.

The ensign continued to sit, frozen like a statue, knowing the Betazoid had read the thoughts right out of his head like the text of a bad novel.

"I spent several years of my life training so I could dedicate my career to *helping* people like you," he emphasized the word with a sarcastic whine, "and what did it get me? Endless days of endless hours listening to pathetic sob stories about broken hearts, unfeeling superiors, homesickness, lack of purpose, professional frustration, bothered consciences and all sorts of nauseating piffle that wouldn't make it into a bad screenplay! And when I really do try to help, or -- God forbid -- try to make a new ensign feel a little at ease in his new assignment, what do I get for it? The contempt of an arrogant little shithead whose smallness of mind is probably only exceeded by his pathetically small dick, and who has to compensate for both by acting like a Klingon with a spear up his ass. Well I think I've had more than enough of that bullshit from just about everyone who's walked through that door today. You can all go to hell!" he cursed, a small vein he didn't even know he had standing out in his forehead.

A look that was somewhere between sympathy and terror registered on the other man's face as a few vague sounds stammered from his mouth in an attempt to form an apology, or an explanation, or a protest . . . or maybe just a plea for help.

"AT ATTENTION, ENSIGN!" Brian barked.

Proctor shot up as if the chair had sodomized him with an electrically charged umbrella.

"You know what I'm going to do? No, you don't; you're too much of an idiot for that. I'm going to certify you fit for duty with flying colors. You wanna know why? It's not because I think you're capable -- because I actually think you have a brain the size of a pistachio -- but because I'm going to enjoy spreading all kinds of shit about you to the rest of the crew. *Everyone* will know the name of Ensign Todd Proctor, but when they think of it they'll only be laughing -- the real tender hearts might even shed a tear for you if you're lucky." Stepping forward, the counselor took another opportunity to get in the terrified ensign's face. He spoke quietly but with an intensity that was far more brutal than shouting. "If you ever set foot on this deck, let alone in this office, when I'm around, I'll personally arrange things so that you're cleaning toilets on Q'onoS at Madame Varga's Home for the Terminally Diarrheal for the rest of your pathetic little life. Is that clear?"

Proctor didn't have to say a word; that he understood was clear to Brian by the befuddled fear he could feel radiating from him like so much excess body heat.

"Get the hell out of here -- now!"

Moving faster than he probably had since his first year at the Academy, the ensign still couldn't get through the door fast enough.

"OUT!"

For the next several moments, a sinister, satisfied smirk curled up from Brian's mouth. Maybe the little bastard would run to Karyn or the Captain to file a complaint, but it didn't matter. It could cost him his career for all he cared now; he'd had enough "counseling" for the day. Then he took a deep breath and exhaled.

"Computer, end program."

As the holographic re-creation of his office shimmered into the holodeck's standard yellow grid, he chuckled, shook his head at himself for letting it all out like that -- particularly at a holographic projection -- and walked out the door, feeling like a new man.

"Damn, that felt good."

[OOC: Set a day or so before explosions on DS5]

"The Other Side of the Eshe Coin"

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton - Chief Medical Officer
Lieutenant J.G. Chandrakala Eshe - Engineering Officer

Sickbay
~ ~ ~ ~

"I'm supposed to be in charge here, right?" Kimberly asked as a massive pile of PADDs landed gently on her clean desk.

"Yes Ma'am," Arrietty replied as she started sorting the pile into several smaller piles, "Crew evaluations," she stated as she laid out several on one part of the desk, "A's to C's, you're in that pile." She reminded her boss, "Better get your notes up to date." Starting a second pile she stacked them haphazardly on the edge of the desk, "D's to G's" and so on. Slowly, PADD by PADD Arrietty created a montage of PADDs on the once clear desk until the whole surface was covered by the devices.

"So why don't you do as I asked last month and just collate all of these on one PADD?" Kimberly asked in disgust, indicating the piles of PADDs that now occupied her office.

"Nah, this is more fun," Arrietty deadpanned as she walked out. "Coffee?"

"With extra sugar!" She called after the retreating nurse. Muttering something about Arrietty's next physical and some Orion Demma she had stored in her shuttle, she shifted the PADDs into one pile on the floor and started reviewing the notes. After two PADDs Arrietty returned with a steaming mug of fresh coffee and placed it on the desk, "Your two o'clock should be here soon," she reminded the CMO.

"Our Dolphin engineer correct?" Kimberly asked absently.

"Nope, he had to swap with another engineer, he'll be by tomorrow, Lieutenant Eshe should be by shortly."

Looking up so suddenly her chin hit the coffee mug she was lifting to sip from, Kimberly slid her chair back rapidly to avoid the splash of coffee that sloshed over the rim of the mug. "Eshe?" she asked with some confusion, "Dhanishta's coming, here!" she said with total disbelief. "Voluntarily!"

Trying not to laugh Arrietty shook her head and held out a mini PADD for Kimberly to take, "Nope, her twin sister apparently, Lieutenant Chandrakala Eshe, transferred for now from the IKS T'Kengra."

~ Oh yes, the red head, ~ Kimberly recalled, accepting the notes she scanned them quickly, "I have some reading to do then, as I doubt the Lieutenant will need my now up to date knowledge of aquatic mammals."

"Probably not." Arrietty agreed as she walked out.

Settling down to read Kimberly dimmed the lights a little and sat back, reviewing not only Kala's notes but comparing the mentally to Dhani's. "Hmmm, this has possibilities!" she realised.

Kala strode into Sick Bay cheerfully, beaming a smile at the nurse she nodded politely, "Lieutenant junior grade Chandrakala Eshe to see Doctor Burton." she stated as she came up to the woman.

Smiling at the bubbly red head as she stood there with an almost palpable aura around her Arrietty indicated a side bay with a biobed in it, "Have a seat," she offered, "You're early, I'll go get the Doctor for you."

Nodding Kala trotted over to the bed and hopped up on to it. After a moment she thought 'what the hell' may be here a while, lets get comfy! Lying down she kicked off her shoes, crossed her legs and rested her arms above her head; fanning out her hair on the pillow as she did.

Letting Kala sit down Arrietty stuck her head in Kimberly's office and coughed loudly, "Lieutenant Eshe is in bay two," she said simply and left.

'Sometimes I wonder who runs this place!' Kimberly muttered softly as she stood and put on her white coat. Pausing only to pick up her recently repaired tricorder she hoped it would last a bit longer with this Eshe than it had with the previous Eshe.

Looking at Kala as she walked over to the bed Kimberly was struck immediately by the resemblance, okay, Kala was a red head, but other than that there was an almost perfect match there. Noting the cheerful look that Kala was aiming around the sickbay she hoped briefly that she wasn't going to start throwing things around like her sister did.

"Lieutenant," Kimberly greeted her as she arrived, with a smile of her own and an offered hand. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance at last, Dhani has said so very little about you."

Kala sat up and took Kim's hand. "Seems as though u have an absent mind Doc. We met at that party a while back." she reminded her with a look of gentle concern. Part of the concern was for the doctors memory, but the majority was centered around the possibility that their first meeting was unmemorable. and that was like. just no, Kala couldn't just *be* a face in the crowd. She was Kala; the imposing, presumptuous, impatient, sometimes violet, defiantly aggressive, determined red head with an attitude. She balked; was this what Starfleet life was like? Did she just become a number and rank with a name attached? She frowned as the horrible thoughts passed through her mind. On the T'Kengra she stuck out, and not just because she was a Trill Betazoid Hybrid. she fit in on that crew, made her mark and was respected and yes even feared. ~Oh my god~ she groaned as she sat up fully and let her legs hang over the edge of the bed. ~Starfleet sucks. I miss, *miss* (how was that even possible!?) the T'Kengra.~

"Oh I remember you, hard not to with your hair. Sorta stands out," she explained. "But we didn't really get a chance to chat though, and Dhani as I said, hasn't said much about you." Sitting down on the bed next to Chandrakala Kimberly looked at her for a moment, "So how long are you with us?"

Kala frowned it was so strange to hear that abbreviation of her sisters name, shaking her head she began to swing her legs a little, "Not sure." she said with a shrug.

Leaning to one side, as so to be closer to Burton as she confessed her little secret, she lowered her voice slightly, "Technically I am still assigned to the T'Kengra." she admitted. Sitting up straighter she contemplated how long she was going to stay for. "I'm kinda on extended leave. though I am not really sure." She paused and took a breath as she turned to look at Burton, "Qel let me go off on a mission with Nishta, I kinda think he thought that none of us would be coming back. And then when we were rescued from Romulus, I just sorta came up with the Galaxy crew. I sent a message to my CO, but I haven't spoken to him yet." she shrugged realizing that she had gone on a bit. She smiled and looked away for a moment "Sorry to ramble I guess I'm just not sure what I want to do yet. I'm laying low so I don't have to make that decision yet. Ya know?"

Nodding to indicate that she did, Kimberly sat and thought for a moment, "Okay then, well if you'll be with us a while, that gives us plenty of time," she suggested enigmatically.

Kala nodded and then frowned, "Time for what exactly?" she enquired intrigued.

"Well firstly to get to know one and other, and two, for you to tell me all about your sister. She is a stubborn is that one, and I could use your help." Shrugging Kimberly looked at Chandrakala and raised an eyebrow, "If you'd like to that is of course?" she asked.

Kala half laughed before lowering her eyes to the floor. Tilting her head to one side she sighed and began to chew on her bottom lip and the insides of her cheeks. "You want me to help you understand my sister.." she trailed off leaving the statement hanging along with her decision.

She shrugged slightly. Defining Nishta. Burton would be lucky. She wasn't sure if she was more upset with the fact that still, aged 30, everyone wanted to know about Nishta. Everyone still expected her to rush to Nishta's side in a crisis. hell she expected herself to run when anything happened. Still the younger twin was always looking out for the older, *still* after 30 years, soon to be 31 years, she was still expected to be her sisters keeper and expected to be able to translate for her and to aid others in understanding her. ~Why doesn't anyone ever want to know about me?~ she whined for what felt the millionth time since birth. First Dad and then everyone else. they all like her better all think she's great.

"She's an enigma that one." she said dryly with a slight disinterest tingeing her tone. There was another voice inside however. It was one that reflected the Doctors request. Kala herself felt as if she didn't know her own sister these days. Nish did strange things, said even stranger things and acted like a totally different person than the one Kala remembered growing up with. She couldn't understand how much she had changed. And it wasn't just a slight change; it was a fundamental shift of her core personality. Nish reacted to things like Kala had never seen. On the T'Kengra she was emotional towards Qel. She had shouted, screamed in fact. She had threatened and insulted the Captain; the girls were able to get away with a little banter with Qel and the others, but Nish crossed that line and then seemingly paraded around the other side with a fan fair.

"I make no promises Doctor." Kala finally said, not wanting to admit to anyone how she felt, not wanting to fully admit to herself that she didn't even know her own sibling. What was worse is that so many times in the past she had felt her, heard her in her dreams, seen her, things that happened, heard her cry out when she was in pain. And lately, that bond, it was broken.

"I need a full medical work up." Kala said solemnly, "If I end up serving here for any length of time it will speed up the transfer process if I have my files in order." she explained.

"Okay then, one full physical coming up. And thank you," Kimberly said as she slid from the bed to the floor. "Perhaps when we're done, after shift, we could have a drink?" she enquired as she switched on the bed with an almost visible wince, as if waiting for something to happen, picking up an examination gown she draped it on the bed and activated the privacy screen abound the side bay. "We can chat and swap stories?" she offered.

Kala laid back down, shifting to get more comfortable; even though she knew that having her physical body content wouldn't change how she felt mentally. "Sure Doc," Kala said as she fanned her hair out across the pillow again, "that would be neat."

"Home, Part 5 (Conclusion)"

Aerv tr'Ahalaen
Rihannsu Ambassador

Elissa Skylark
Science Officer

= Three Weeks Later =
= dohhae Ahalaen =
= Nn'verih Provice, ch'Rihan =

Aerv tr'Ahalaen stood on the balcony outside his bedroom, staring at the moon through the shifting white veil of the light snow falling upon his home. In a few days, both he and Elissa would return to the Galaxy. They had been on ch'Rihan for a month now, and how quickly the days had passed.

The nights were a different story... they had been slow torture. The last time Aerv had stood on this spot, Elissa had told him she felt trapped - for the life of him, he could not understand what made her feel that way here. Determined not to become a cage for a singing bird, he had let her take their relationship at her own pace. However, that very same night, she seemed to have decided to start sleeping in his bed - that, however, was all they did. They, quite literally, slept together - and whether this modest intimacy was a form of punishment or reward for him, he could not tell.

Still something had changed in Elissa after his father had given her one of his famous - or infamous, depending on what you had one - talks in his study. Her smile was brighter, her laugh more frequent...quickly after that she had become a part of this home. A few weeks ago, when Aerv had been training with blades, she had come to watch. When the guards and the servants had urged her on, she had sparred with Aerv...he had let her win, of course, but had only earned a sharp whack across his behind with a wooden sword. Elissa was stronger than she looked.

Then he had arranged for her to meet with some of the most prominent archeologists and anthropologists on ch'Rihan...fame and power did have their advantages, after all. Aerv had rarely seen her so excited, her blue eyes quite so full of life. Even Sharien had seen passion in her then....

She taught Ael how to bake cookies, listened to his father's old war stories and somehow lightened his mother's melancholy. The servants loved her for her kindness and thoughtfulness, and Aerv suspected that if his orders should ever conflict with Elissa's instructions, her will would prevail. That possibility actually appealed to him a great deal.

Yes...the days had gone by quickly.... Now the darkness of the universe called again. In her last report, t'Noramei had told him that Faylin had died, though his aide did not know much about the circumstances of her passing. Aerv had mourned, briefly, as was the Rihannsu way. Life came from the Elements and to the Elements it returned - Faylin had tried to live well, with joy and passion, and that was the definition of a good life. Aerv had arranged for the painting she had so liked, "Nausicaa from Homer's Ulysses", to be sent to that brute she had apparently married - Steven Jonas. The thing was priceless and tr'Ahalaen barely dared to wonder if a simple man would appreciate it. Still...it was not a gesture Aerv made for Jonas but for a memory.

Reports from Ambassador Kalavak said that negotiations with the Federation were going well. However, the matter of Curran was still a black cloud that threatened to wash away any progress that was being made. It was a delicate situation, and one which would probably require some of Aerv's attention before it was resolved.

And there was also....

"Aerv," sang Elissa's voice from the room as she walked in, "Are you...?" Her feet carried her to the balcony, where she walked out and hugged him from behind. "You're cold."

"Well," he replied, turning around to face her with a smile, "I was...."

"I was thinking..." She trailed off, leading him to pull her words out from the air.

"Well... the last time you were thinking, we ended up watching science holovids with Ael to teach her how heat was a form of energy. That was such a blast." He reminded her with a wry smile, "Before that, when you were thinking...."

"I could push you off this balcony and be a very rich and influential widow."

"It would be more fun than science vids."

She stood up and stared him down. "*Nothing*... is more fun than science vids."

"Ah...of course. Forgive me for I have sinned...."

"You can mea culpa later, Aerv. I'd like to go back tomorrow, to the village. The package came in this evening and the earth will be just right in the morning."

"Of course," Aerv said uncertainly, "The village. The package.... I remember hearing...well, nothing about this, actually.... Maybe you slipped it in when you were saying something about Iconians or Photosynthesis or...." He cleared his throat and said sweetly, "What package, e'lev?"

"Exactly. That last thing. See, I'm so glad you were paying attention." She kissed him quickly on the lips. "So I was thinking, about 0700?"

"Really?"

"Yes, we should be there then. And I'd like Ael to come along, if it's alright with Tal. Oh, and maybe you could convince Sharien to come along. I'd like her to be there for this."

He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, "Anything you want. As the Hru'fhe says, your word is fate."

"I happen to believe in free agency," she corrected him, "But I'm willing to let it slide for the Hru'fhe's sake."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it. Still... maybe you should stop thinking in times that start with zeroes. I heard it's bad science voodoo."

"Sacrilege!" she laughed, and stepped lightly on both of his feet. "Now kiss me..."

"Of course. After all, your word...."

She cut him off with a kiss of her own, strong and hungry. Her hands wrapped around his head and played with perfectly kept hair, taking a devilish glee in disturbing it. As she started to pull away, he learned forward and kissed her again, this time tenderly, before breaking away ever so slowly.

"See," he teased, "Definitely more fun than science vids."

She grasped his hand in hers and pulled. "Now come to bed. We've got an early morning ahead of us."

As she began to lead him inside, Aerv paused, pulled her back, and turned to look at the moon. "All right," he said after a moment, "Lets go to sleep."

"Actually," she whispered, as the curtains billowed around them and the balcony doors slid shut, "I had something else in mind."

Elissa blew out the candles in the room, and pulled him to the bed. She kissed him tenderly, her shyness melting away, until soon only the moonlight covered them.

Once Aerv had vowed to free her from all thought...and now, at the very edge of desire, he stopped to fulfill that promise. Under his careful, tender touch, Elissa lost all sense of time - there was no past, there was no future...only this moment, now, where he was lingering, slowly making her his own. She could not remember when last she had not been his, here in this place, on fire everywhere, while snow fell upon a world.

In this feverish moment there were no phantoms, no fears, no uncertainty...only parted, gasping lips, an arched back, a tender kiss. She bit down on her own fingers. He kissed the wild pulse of her neck. Their ecstasy scorched the very fabric of time and melted the universe away, until there were just her watery, weltering eyes left under his intense, obsidian gaze - locked together - primal, reverent...alive.

She understood then, the reckless heart of the Rihan, that said that love burns, and life burns...and she was no longer afraid.

He understood then, the song of the Skylark - sweet, calm and careful - meditating upon every mystery hidden in the canvas of life. He was no longer impatient.

It was in these ways that souls met, that love was made - burning in the snow, trembling with the rapture of whispered promises.... It was in these ways that the distance between two worlds closed and faded from memory, and the loneliness of the space between was replaced with the white fire of discovery....

Ivory blanketed the earth for miles in every direction, the snow crystalline with the sun beating upon it. Elissa carefully melted the groundfall before her with a phaser until the dirt was visible and dampened. She pulled the small package to her side and took out a green pine tree from it and proceeded to dig a crib in the soil. With both hands, she lowered the young tree into the hole and scooped the dirt in with bare hands and a steady gaze.

Aerv and his siblings watched on from nearby, dressed down as had been requested. People walked by, some stopping briefly to take in the curious sight, others simply ignoring the woman in their midst, a sea of black swirling around an island of golden hair.

Ael stepped forward to help, but Sharien put a hand on her shoulder and shook her head at the girl. The child frowned and watched Elissa with curiosity. "But Hru'hfe could have sent one of the servants to do this," Ael protested, "She doesn't have to...."

"Yes," Sharien whispered quietly, "She does.... You can have others storm a castle for you, Ael - but if you are going to storm hearts, you have to do it yourself." She looked at Aerv and nodded, "Aei hraikhina aoi. ('It is a permanent victory')."

tr'Ahalaen smiled, "Daie, a'rhea." ('Yes, dear-heart.') He looked down at his youngest sister, "Ssuej-d'ifv?" ('Do you understand?')

Ael sighed with the impressive exasperation that only a nine year old could muster, "No."

He chuckled and put a hand on the child's head, "You will. I hope."

After a moment, Skylark stood and studied her handiwork. The tree would take root. Satisfied, she turned and walked over to her family. Smiling quietly at the thought, she wondered when she'd begun to think of Ael and Sharien as sisters. And Aerv, so sturdy and powerful and different now... she thought of him in a way she'd never really thought of any other, and for all her knowledge, did not have the words for it.

"Thank you for coming with me," she said.

"What is it?" Ael asked.

"A promise."

"A promise tree? I've never heard of that kind before."

Elissa opened her mouth to explain what a pine tree was, then thought different of it. Today, at least, she did not feel compelled to be a science teacher to the girl. She put a hand on her sister's head and just smiled instead.

Ael folded her arms across her chest and growled, "I'm getting really tired of people doing that."

Sharien slapped the back of Ael's head lightly, and nodded to Elissa, "We'll wait for you at the shuttle...Ia'rinam."

Elissa nodded to Sharien, and watched her lead the younger Ael away. Turning to Aerv, finally, she sighed deeply. "Well," Elissa filled the silence, "are you ready?"

"I've never been ready before," he replied, "To leave home." He stepped close to put an arm around her waist and kissed her temple, "But today...yes - I feel I am ready."

Elissa rested her head on his arm and closed her eyes. "Good. So am I."

OOC: I love hockey. I love the Calgary Flames. I also hope in the future the various leagues in the world will play each other. It would be sweet.

"One Night Tonight"

By Commander James Lionel Corgan

Location: Unknown

He snapped to attention while hearing the whine of winding gears and rotors.

The wreckage of his surrounding tangling his feet and slowing his movements, James Corgan crept through the hallways of his battlefield, his rifle held close to him to comfort him in the trials his surroundings have become. It was his lover and protector, and he held it close. He knew it was the only thing that kept the threat away.

It was coming closer. The winding gears were joined with the heavy thud of metallic footsteps. There was one... no dozens of footsteps, and they all echoed the ravaged hall, shaking the foundations it rested as it heaved back and forth, like a ship listing in its fevered dementia. He stumbled, but found enough equilibrium to right himself.

The steps were closer still.

He felt the wave of nausea creep up in him, the sweat of his brow trickling in ice cold drops, the prespiration constraining his uniform and choking him until his breath was in ragged gulps. My god was it so dark, he kept thinking in private, but the lights were so bright, their white orbs and the encroachment of sickly green digital wash, with the brave red line of a tracking beam crisscrossing over the corridor, probing for him.

The steps rent metal, stomping it flat. With a clack, James released the safety of his rifle, and aimed with the most professional practice that his jangled nerves could afford him.

"BACK IT OFF!" He screamed like a cornered animal. His step backs, much less infrequent than the steady metronome beat of the heavy footsteps in the bright light that broke the pale black, backed James Corgan into a wall. He felt its hardness jar his back.

Looking too and fro, he found it was his corner.

He was a cornered animal, and a very frightened one.

His aim more steady, James screeched with a killing intent, "BACK OFF, YOU F**KING FREAK! BACK OFF!"

The noise wouldn't back off. Soon, a silouette emerged, radiating a red line that crisscrossed over James Corgan's chest and face. It's spectral figure, towering monsterously over the security chief, held the pallor of death in his face, a glassy stare from its one living eye. Its beetle carapace of a metal armor creaked, but flexed with the malebility of working muscle and cloth. One arm was a heavy appendage that ended in an oversized, crablike claw, while the other was interlaced with metallic fibers that ended in two dimunitive stingers. The laser beam mounted on the metal outcropping of an crackling green optic piece waved and spread over Corgan's body, its invisible touch retching his bowels.

It was scanning him. It knew he was a threat.

The drone was a threat.

"I SAID...." Clawing at the phaser setting controls, he willed himself to charge the rifle to its maximum, and took aim with all the hate in his heart, "BACK... THE F**K... OFF!!!!!!!!"

And as though he willed it, the phaser fired, its recoil smacking his shoulder. His rifle was not supposed to have recoil, but his will was so strong in seeing his enemy die, his will itself going into the rifle, that the added power spat out like a cannon shot, crackling and warping the air as it speed at light speed towards the target.

The powerful shot, he willed, would rend through starship hull after atomizing the Borg with its backwash. So strong he wanted to will it, the shot would go through the stars to destroy everything.

Only it did not.

The powerful shot ineffectually fizzled in a dazzling display of green energy, shimmering over the drones body to disappear altogether.

"No..." James gasped, ready for another shot, "...not again, please not again..."

The drone was close enough to employ it's cybernetic arm, sweeping its crabclaw in a swishing, sideswiping arc. It hit the shoulder and batted Corgan aside with little effort, tossing the phaser rifle to crack openly against the wall. He felt his shoulder catch fire, the wind rush itself out of his body as he hit. Pain flared up at the wound, and he had no time to react to it as the drone rushed to him with astonishing speed. No time left to double over, James felt his throat become more constricted, as the drone closed his claw against his windpipe, picking him up in the air and slamming him against the wall.

Slowly, the drone dragged the near prone body of the security chief up that wall, until his feet lifted a foot off the ground.

His world was not turning black as he would suspect when one would be choked out. He still felt the pain, the constriction, but it was a minor nuisance now. He was feeling the most paralysing fear he had known, to watch helplessly into the drone's eyes as it raised its other arm, poised to aim for his neck.

He had no outlet to express his anguish, the overwhelming urge to scream staying in his throat, the will to fight back bottled up by pain.

James was helpless, but allowed to scream finally when the drone's free arm shot out twin tubules, plunging for his neck.

********

"AHUH!"

James hated to wake up like this, glazed in his own sticky sweat, shooting out of bed crazed and half delirious with fear. It was difficult enough to wake up without screaming at the top of his lungs; it was an exercise of will that frayed the rest of him. Then he had to recover his breath, slow down his panting, gasping breath to slower, calmer breathing. He had to bring himself down, slow his thumping heart from a booming bass to a steady staccato. His head swimming with adrenaline, he tried to make sense of what happened.

The dreams afflicted him, ever since the incident at the Battle of Sector 001 all those years ago. Officers talked about the heroics of the USS Enterprise, then one of only two Sovereign class vessels. They talked about their travelling through time, saving the timeline and all the nonsense that made the media clamour for more.

They didn't talk about the others. Those that died, the others that survived, and fewer stories still, but distressing enough, of those that were not whole afterwards.

James Lionel Corgan was one of those people. Post traumatic stress disorder, and it defined his career from that moment on, put him in suicide battalions, made him a security officer, evolved him into a killer.

The years did pass, and he had his humanity back when he came to the Galaxy. It was hard fought, well earned respite from the madness. And still the dreams came, the difference being their strength and how he dealt with them. Those terrible dreams were rare these days, and he could through sheer will control their outcome slightly.

Yet, it had been a long time since it was this strong, this frighting.

At the moment, he was keyed down. He realized that in his fit of fear that his sudden movements must have shook the bed and waken Mika up. He glanced over to his Andorian lover, her head nestled in between her arms and the sheets and pillows. Her turquoise skin, in certain lights, was almost as alabaster as her hair, and her antennae twitched and flickered when it should have been swaying as if caught in a breeze.

"Did I wake you, honey?" James soothed as he ran his hand through her white and gray hair, speaking as if it was normal business.

Mika groaned, lethargic but awake. She was lucid enough to crack a warm, beautiful smile, and murmur her content. Her eyes fluttered open, dark brown and denoting concern for her mate.

"Mmmm hmmmm." She sleepily murmured, her arm twining around James'.

Her warmth and her hands helped steady his nerves. His sweet, caring Mika, his bastion, his rock. He wanted to kiss her, but felt it awkward when he was so keyed up a moment before. Not coming closer woke Mika to a realization that something was wrong. She tried to prop herself up more, taking care to cover her naked self with the bedsheets. James waved it off and said, "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to wake you. You can go back to sleep."

"Mmmm?" She mumbled, stifling a yawn, "What is wrong, James?"

He thought a moment to not say a thing. He wanted to gather her up, and if it would stop her concerned inquiry, keep her close and wait until sleep claimed her. James knew after that nightmare he would not sleep the rest of the night, but what to do afterwards? He didn't want Mika to feel so concerned for his well being, but it didn't serve him well to downplay what had happened, nor did he want to give Mika any cause to be concerned the rest of the night. He could already see it in her, her inquiring eyes, only wanting to comfort James from whatever frightened him. It would not serve him right to keep a secret or lie to her; she was sensitive to these things, always seemed to know when James was holding something back, and didn't appreciate it in the slightest.

But how was he to tell her that she was to look forward to more nights like this?

"Bad dream, honey." James beamed a smile to her, the smile of the brave taking on an overwhelming fight, "I've been in a lot of wars, seen too many scary things. I tend to remember them in my dreams. I especially remember the Borg... the bloody things."

She swept her hand over his forehead, caressing his cheek, "Was it that terrible, my love?" She crooned.

Clasping her hand with both of his, he gave her fingers a kiss. "Yes it was." James confessed to her, "And I don't want to keep you awake. Get some rest. I'll be up for a long time yet."

She yawned and curled back into the bed. "Come back for breakfast?"

"Yeah." James nodded his head, "I'll come back for breakfast. Sausages and scrambled eggs, toast and jam, corn flakes, some coffee..."

"Yech.... hate coffee." She mumbled, tossing over to face away from him. "See you soon... don't forget."

"I won't, baby." James patted her shoulder to let her know his presence was still there.

As soon as she fell asleep, James got out of bed, dressed in the least amount of his officer's uniform possible, and took the turbolift to Security. There was not much going on in the middle of the graveyard shift. Ensigns not expecting an officer so late at night saluted hastily, James saluted back while keeping the grim countenance of one of higher rank, letting the ensigns scuttle off to their duties.

He was at security central in short order. On the late shift, one was in the brig while the other was stationed in the complex. It was half lit on Gamma and Delta shifts; James preferred it to the brightness of Alpha and Beta shifts. There was a source of light coming from the security desk. It was showing a live feed from the Federation News Network. He could hear the matter of factly anchorwoman talk about the Tal'Anatar massacre, which saw the deaths of many of his comrades on Romulus, as if she was reading the day's Risa vacation lottery numbers.

He found T'lan at the main security station desk, and like himself she was a restless individual with enough to resemble a uniform. Her jacket was draped on the chair, the rest of her in deep thought as she stared at a device, a pink organizer with glitter and stickers festooning its plastic.

"Good morning, T'lan." James greeted his friend sleepily, "You too?"

Breaking herself from the concentration, T'lan turned to address her superior officer. As a Vulcan she didn't show emotion, so it was James guess whether or not his presence was welcome.

"Yes." T'lan responded, "I too could not sleep."

"Happens a lot in our profession." James grumbled, his attention turned to the device, "Any luck with Crewman Recruit Allison's organizer?"

The newscaster was now going into the details of the war in general, now degenerated into mopup operations in the outer rims of the Rihannsu Empire, and the optimistic appraisal of the Romulans and their shift to 'friendlier terms and ideals', and their potential to be great allies of the Federation. James gave that opinion a derisive snort. Civilians were the Federation the aliens hated; pushy, self righteous and believing that everyone wanted to be their friends. ~"What do they know?"~ James thought, ~"I was friends, no... more with a Romulan. There's no former evil empire that now wants to be our allies, no populace that has been guided down the wrong path that need our philosophy of love and peace. They were doing just fine before without us, don't want us meddling, and are just as proud to be Romulan as we are of being Federation. Being Federation is the last thing on their minds... being our friends the least bit important to them, not to mention they are intelligent a nd educated, not indoctrinated, thank you very much miss anchorbitch... you'd know that if you actually travelled..."~

"Sir." T'lan brought James back to earth, leaving the anchorwoman to display the Risean Vacation numbers. She fumbled with the organizer in her hands, appraising it like a cutter with a gem, "I cannot crack this technology."

"Why not?" James wondered, "You're the best person I have. It's just a civilian device. What could it have that is keeping you awake like this?"

She explained, "Can you explain why a civilian device has multi adaptive algorithms in its encryption code, or why the hardware is of no configuration I have ever seen before? It could store all our records, every department, since the ship left spacedock in its built in memory alone, and theoretically it can store more."

"Theoretically?" James said, "Multi adaptive what? It's not like you to bandy words like that. We have military computers here. Crack the motherf**ker's multi adaptive algorithms until it becomes your bitch. It's what I have you here for. Do it."

T'lan had a look that wanted to sigh. "I have attempted to do so, Sir. Our computers can encrypt one code, only to be confronted by another, and another, and another. Every time the code is cracked, another one takes its place. Then there are the mathematical equations itself."

"Which is why I sicked a Vulcan on this thing..."

If she had emotions, she would have looked indignant. "Sir, not all Vulcans are mathematicians. I am a security officer. Even so, I have had training in advanced and theoretical mathematics, and I have come to the conclusion that this is beyond my abilities. Some of the programming I have seen in this is... flawlessly logical, but its existence is not. Sir.. it is like I am looking at something that has only been discussed in theory at technical institutes."

As was his habit this night, James patted T'lan's shoulder. Oddly enough, she didn't seem to mind, and took whatever unexpressed gratitude she had in stride.

"Don't sweat it. I'm giving it back to the kid."

"Sir?" She protested, gratifying James in knowing he could still surprise her, "That is highly illogical."

"Don't worry." He patted her shoulder again, stepping away, "For some reason, after I talked to her, even with the crazy bullshit she put me through, I can't help but like the little scamp. I trust she won't break my trust in her. Let her have her little device. Just... keep in mind that this is really suspicious and try to look out for anything else while she is on duty. Got it?"

"Yes sir." She accepted the order to her chagrin, "But sir... the odds of her hiding a secret is 99.9 percent, and the chance of her having feelings of affection for her are 74.5 percent. It is logical to conclude, based on your romantic interlude with Atole Tekri, that she may be trying to manipulate you."

"Oh?" James said, "And what are the odds of me falling in love with her."

T'lan conceded, "Oddly, seven percent."

"Then don't worry about it. Just keep tabs on her before she gets in trouble."

"Aye, sir. I am just concerned about your well being."

"I know, T'lan. I know."

The monitor showing the FNN live feed roused both of their attentions, as Starfleet Command showed up in a picture. Scenes of some confrontation were shown on holocamera. Broken security protocols, some scattered detrius of a hasty retreat, security officers sullen and serious faced in swarms sweeping for answers.

"What the... f**k?" Whispered James.

The same anchorwoman relayed the information, but made more real for her, put emotion in her performance. ~"This just in... there was an attack on Starfleet Headquarters on New Years Day."~

Subspace was slower to come. It was past New Years, but even then it was news to him. The anchorwoman kept talking, ~"Details are slim as of now, but according to confidential sources leaking information to the FNN, a group of terrorists broke into Starfleet Headquarters late at night while most staff were away on New Years celebrations. It is unknown about the terrorists intent or what they did in Starfleet Headquarters, but it is confirmed by Starfleet's chief of public relations, Admiral Crowley that an investigation is taking place. We will have more details as they are made available. And now onto sports. The Calgary Flames beat Metallurg Magnitogorsk in Earth Interleague Hockey 7-3, leaving it number one in the North American Division..."~

Stunned, James switched off the monitor. "Holy crap." He muttered, "What other surprises do I have today?"

~"Beepbeep"~ Both officers heard the beep from their communications console. It flashed, most urgent, the red letters and the symbol denoting it as a priority message from Starfleet Command.

T'lan replied, "You humans are fond of saying, 'Speak of the Devil' at this time."

Quiet as a church, James was inclined to agree. He would have to miss breakfast with Mika after all.

"Picture of No Words"

Bran & Saia

*****Quarters*****

Branwen was on the couch, a plaid over her legs. Right now she was working half time and had to rest the last of the day. It galled her to have to take things slow. But she also knew it was the only way to get her body back in shape.

She smiled as the door opened and Saia came in. "Hi there, how was school?"

Letting her bag drop at the door and plopping on a chair crossing her arms, she answered, "School sucks. Even art. We have to fingerpaints with the five year olds!" Saia didn't realize that he teachers did that as an exercise to give the older students some leadership skills. The point being the older kids help the younger. Saia, not knowing this, ignored the little kids.

"Hmmm that is a new one." Bran said. "Any idea why?"

"Teachers are jerks."

"Sometimes but usually they do have reasons for what they do. Finding that out could make it easier for you. Less boring maybe." Bran suggested.

"You mean TALK to them?" Saia seemed to think the idea completely ridiculous.

"Yeah, it beats being bored you know."

"I draw when I'm bored."

"Well think about, Saia." Bran said. "How are you doing, hon?"

"Better." A beat. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Bran just asked not pushing further.

"Maybe."

"You want to talk about it?" She offered. "As friends."

"Nope."

"Alright." Saia was not a patient, and she respected the young woman. "Want to do something fun?"

"Like what?"

"Your choice. As long as I don't have to move too much."

"Pictionary?"

"Sure, why don't you go get it." Bran sat up straighter. She was glad for some distraction herself, and if she could help Saia by having some fun that was just as good as talking.

Saia went to get the box, which by this century had graduated to something sturdier than cardboard. There were still cards listing things to draw, but instead of pads and pencils, it had several colorful hand-held screens. A few buttons for clearing the screen and turning it on and off. A stylus was attached to the top. She set it on the table and opened the box.

Branwen enjoyed the game, it was not that simple, and she had to pay attention to hold her own against the teenager.

The game was played in near silence until Saia won.

"The Strength of Conviction" - Part XI

Starring:
Empress Kaidalin t'Vriesu, Leader of the Rihannsu Empire (Syed)
Proconsul Omar, Head of the Rihannsu Senate (Ian)

Senator Aehkhifv tr'Khnialmnae, Representative of the Declared (Eric)
Senator Tal'Aehkhifv Khev of Khev'Nveid Province (Jeremy)
Senator Dhivael t'Vrentath of Korthre Province (Kat)
Senator Khiy ir-Kvurkhae Keirianh of Kvurkhae (Chad)
Senator Aren Rital, Representative of Ch'Yem (Chris)
Senator Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen of the Nn'verih Province (Syed)
Senator Sh'rev t'Sannellieu of the Chula Province (Robert S)
Senator Raev Maec s'Tei of Kotor Province (Cliff)
Senator Delon ir-Fethraie Valdran of Fethraie Province (Jola)
Senator Tolon Kerec, representative of Baratan Province (Pat)
Admiral Ael Donatra, Acting Commander, Rihannsu Star Navy (Pat)

*************************
First Month of Earth (Khaidoa nuhwir s'Avilh)
Second Week (Dhaei nukrer)
Day 192, Rihan Calendar
*************************
Remains of Hall of Senate
Ki Baratan
ch'Rihan
*************************

"One voice for one people. Would that not simplify matters?" Letting the question hang in the air for a moment, the diminutive senator from Korthre province stood, her gaze meeting the Empress'. It was no secret that Dhivael t'Vrentath cared little for Kaidalin t'Vriesu's ideals; the fact that she had been the only senator to openly vote against the motion to accept Federation aid made that painfully obvious. However, Dhivael was above all things a practical woman; if it meant that decisions would be made and actions could be carried out, instead of this endless bickering, she would gladly advocate a return to such a system.

"I suppose," Kaidalin agreed with a drawn out sigh, "However, I suspect that course of action would still not rid me of the horrid pounding in my head." Forming a steeple with her fingers, the Empress sat back in her throne, every sign of amusement gone from her person and replaced with ages of tradition and power, "No one may speak. Listen. And you...Senator t'Sannellieu, sit down...and pay heed. If you should ever draw a weapon in Our presence again, We will see you dead. That is a Promise of the Throne."

There was a long, pregnant pause.

Then t'Vriesu continued, "We cannot ignore the information Senator t'Sannellieu has managed to acquire - drowned out as it nearly was by sabre rattling...nor can We believe it. How conveniently it appears, just in time for this session of the Senate, in order to support the good Senator's position on this specific matter. Unverified by anyone, admittedly, other than the Senator and his 'staff'. And, indeed, given the Senator's involvement in the matter, now unverifiable because the evidence itself has been rendered suspect - it could have been altered, inconsistencies added, to satisfy ulterior motives...."

"We are not accusing the Senator of anything, of course - it is not as if he is a man willing to draw a blade before the Throne in the face of all our traditions of respect, royalty and honor just to satisfy a momentary, passing fancy or to make a point. No...we accuse the good Senator of nothing.... His actions, however, have demonstrated exactly why a Senator will never be in charge of the Tal Shiar or the RNI or any other agency that is formed. You do not trust each other. We do not trust all of you in every matter. And We will not have these distrusts and doubts become factors when the very security of the Empire is at stake."

"Hitan...take this...matter from the hands of the Senator from Chula and look into it. I am sure the resources of his planet are better spent elsewhere in these difficult times. When you have completed your own, independent investigation in this matter, you can report to the Senate. In the meanwhile, Senators, if we do not begin to hear rational discussion on this matter and if no actual plans are laid out within the next two veraku, then We shall issue an Imperial Decree...and in that Decree We shall make this decision for you." The young woman gave the Senators before her a dangerous smile, "Now proceed."

Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen cleared his throat in the long silence that descended upon the room and stood. "As everyone here knows...I have long served in the Tal Shiar. The truth is that...well, the things said about them are true. Sometimes they are careless, self-interested...and, some would say, perhaps even evil. The RNI is no different. It is...the nature of these things. There are not clean fish in dirty water...and these people, whatever you may think of them...for the Rihan, they enter that dirty water, and sacrifice their souls for us. You hear of the failures of the Tal Shiar and you condemn them...and yet all the good they do goes unnoticed, taken for granted - because it is secret."

Vriha shook his head at t'Sannellieu, "These 'noble' ideas of bringing the 'law' to this business are absurd. It is not a place for the law...for with the law comes light...and light does not allow for secrets. To gather intelligence, we need secrets. That is just the nature of the business. The same, my Empress, goes for your suggestion about the oversight committee. With all due respect...such an organization would hamper the effectiveness of the work that is done by our people - sometimes, in the dark places of the universe, decisions have to be made by people who cannot be challenged, who have the confidence of knowing that they are above reproach, beyond doubt - you, your Highness, appreciate this...."

"It does not matter," tr'Ahalaen nodding to Hitan, "Whether you keep the Tal Shiar or the RNI or both. But accept this...things are now as they must be. There is no other way.... The problem is not with our agencies but within the hearts of our people. The very fiber of our society is corrupt. These things will be reflected in government, in the army and, yes, in those who serve in secret. This matter cannot be fixed in this manner. I recommend that the Senate leave these things up to the discretion of the Praetor...for nothing we can do will change anything...except for the worse."

Vriha began to sit, then paused, "By the way, Praetor, if you do choose to keep the RNI, my son has requested that you consider changing the name," the old man replied with an amused smile. "He thinks it is rather unimpressive, especially given a language as poetic as ours."

Kaidalin laughed, quite delighted at this revelation, "We do not agree with you, of course, Senator tr'Ahalaen, given that you speak against our own recommendation. Still...We commend your for having raised a Rihan, in these times, whose heart still rings the joy of the Songs of the Old Home."

tr'Ahalaen bowed, "He is young...and the universe has grown dark. I fear these are not the good times for those who would sing...as I am certain one of my brethren is eager to point out." Then Tal Vriha sat down again, shrouded in his own silence.

"What I find odd here..." Tal Khev said softly, "Is that we, the Senate, are proposing replacing one intelligence agency with another," he pointed out. "What advantage would the RNI have over the Tal Shi'ar other than a mere change of the name? Hm?" he asked with a hint of a wicked smile. "We are proposing to give the RNI the very seat that the Praetor wishes to remain empty." He stood slowly and took everyone in. Tal did not want to see the Tal Shi'ar go by the wayside either, having been a former member himself.

"And for who? For what? For another young man wishing to make his mark?" Tal Khev shook his head and waved his hand a bit to forestall comments. "Forget it..." he said. "What we need to do is get back to the very heart of the issue for I fear that we all have deviated from it greatly."

"What we need to do my fellow Declared, is to go back to the issue of the Federation. Whether we have an RNI and/or a Tal Shi'ar at this point is irrelevant. We have all voted for Federation Aid, yes, but what I would like to know is how are we going to go about solving these problems that we continue to have with them?" he asked. "As t'Sannellieu as pointed out for us all, the Federation was responsible for drawing us into a war that they could not win without us and did indeed win on top of the mountains of Rihannsu bodies that they have left in their wake. How many more slights from the Federation must we endure?" Tal asked. "The Federation must pay. In Bond and In Blood!"

"The Strength of Conviction" - Part XII

Starring:
Empress Kaidalin t'Vriesu, Leader of the Rihannsu Empire (Syed)
Proconsul Omar, Head of the Rihannsu Senate (Ian)

Senator Aehkhifv tr'Khnialmnae, Representative of the Declared (Eric)
Senator Tal'Aehkhifv Khev of Khev'Nveid Province (Jeremy)
Senator Dhivael t'Vrentath of Korthre Province (Kat)
Senator Khiy ir-Kvurkhae Keirianh of Kvurkhae (Chad)
Senator Aren Rital, Representative of Ch'Yem (Chris)
Senator Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen of the Nn'verih Province (Syed)
Senator Sh'rev t'Sannellieu of the Chula Province (Robert S)
Senator Raev Maec s'Tei of Kotor Province (Cliff)
Senator Delon ir-Fethraie Valdran of Fethraie Province (Jola)
Senator Tolon Kerec, representative of Baratan Province (Pat)
Admiral Ael Donatra, Acting Commander, Rihannsu Star Navy (Pat)

*************************
First Month of Earth (Khaidoa nuhwir s'Avilh)
Second Week (Dhaei nukrer)
Day 192, Rihan Calendar
*************************
Remains of Hall of Senate
Ki Baratan
ch'Rihan
*************************

"What we need to do my fellow Declared, is to go back to the issue of the Federation. Whether we have an RNI and/or a Tal Shi'ar at this point is irrelevant. We have all voted for Federation Aid, yes, but what I would like to know is how are we going to go about solving these problems that we continue to have with them?" he asked. "As t'Sannellieu as pointed out for us all, the Federation was responsible for drawing us into a war that they could not win without us and did indeed win on top of the mountains of Rihannsu bodies that they have left in their wake. How many more slights from the Federation must we endure?" Tal asked. "The Federation must pay. In Bond and In Blood!"

"Go fight them then," Vriha tr'Ahalaen snapped at Khev, irritated, "Some of us have families to raise, homes to help rebuild, people to care for.... But you...you go make them pay. Without an army, without decent channels for gathering intelligence, with a home world in ruins. Go fight them and shed your blood and lose all your bonds - and good riddance to you!" The aging Rihannsu shook his head and spat out the next word, "Slights. Go avenge your slights then - you will find, I think, that the people are sick of bloodshed because of your obsession with slights and the Federation. You accept any proof on blind faith - no matter how contrived and convenient - regarding battles ages past.... You fools! When will you realize we are impotent. Your insipid...."

"Senator tr'Ahalaen," Kaidalin interrupted, "That is quite enough. And, Senator Khev, what would you suggest in place of an intelligence agency. We cannot 'forget it' since it is a matter essential to the security of the Empire. Unless, of course, you have a suggestion that changes that...."

"I am not suggesting to totally do away with the Intelligence Agencies, merely that we need to better focusing our goals." Tal Khev snapped while glaring at Vriha. "And I too have families, here on the homeworld. Don't YOU forget that tr'Ahalaen!" he said vehemently. "I watched my own sons and daughters fight and die on this very soil while some of you were scampering away on your ships! So do not lecture ME on such things! And as for blind proof!? Who in the Gods' names do you think leaked the information to you Senator t'Sannellieu? Hm!?"

"May I suggest we table the issue of restructuring the Empire's intelligence agencies," Khiy Keirianh interrupted. It was the first thing he had said in this debate, because he had no stand. He agreed with Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen of the necessity of an intelligence agency, how they were inherently criminal, both galactically and imperially, and how the very idea of one defied oversight. Yet, the ideas of multiple agencies, either dividing jurisdictions or used to check and control one another merited further consideration. But, that couldn't be done here.

"We can do little here but decide to do nothing. And if we are going to decide to do that, let us do it now," Khiy said, "But, if we are going to ultimately decide to restructure the Tal Shiar or add other agencies into the Imperial bureaucracy, or even consider these options, then we must have a written plan to debate. We need a proposal outlining the changes to the current system, the functions of any new agencies, their powers, and their oversight, how their oversight will work and not hamper the duties of the agencies, how they will be funded, and so on and so on. When this proposal has been written, then we can bring this subject up in the Senate once more and debate the proposal point by point."

"I propose that the Tal Shi'ar remain standing and should be rebuilt!" Tal Khev declared, refusing to sit now. "Along with the RNI and whatever other agencies you wish to implement. As well as instituting a military draft across the Empire to further bolster the ranks of the military and the navy!" he said loudly, thumping his cane down as if to accent his point. "That will be more decisive action on our part and we all can then help in our own ways! I am even willing to come out of retirement myself and even pledge the eldest of my remaining sons and daughters to help fill the ranks if need be! Will THAT help your calls for bolstering up the military and your calls for rebuilding Senator?" Tal Khev thundered, still glaring daggers at tr'Ahalaen.

"Senators," t'Vriesu began, "I think perhaps Senator Keirianh's proposition to table discussion about...."

"Begging your pardon, Your Highness, I will second Khev's motion," tr'Ahalaen interrupted, like the cagey old fox that he was, ignoring Tal Khev's gaze, "Provided that the final decision regarding Intelligence be left up to the Praetor and the military draft include a Citizenship for Service plan, similar to that in our proposal for infrastructure reform. They are two separate issues...we should call two votes."

Kaidalin blinked at tr'Ahalaen's response. After a pause, she said, "Very well. The proposition has a second. The Senate will vote on the two matters. Stand, if you will, for the draft, Senators."

This time, Dhivael did not hesitate. Standing once more, the senator placed her palms against the table before her, silently regarding her colleagues. Tal Khev remained standing so to add in his vote as his cold eyes gazed across his fellow senators. Senator tr'Ahalaen rose with his new rival.

Khiy Keirianh remained sitting, and in fact, leaned back in his chair making it clear he was not going to rise. He had let the last Citizenship for Service proposal slip by because the Empress had attached it as a rider to a more important bill, but he would not support a second. Only pureblood Rihannsu deserved to be considered citizens of the empire.

"What is the minimum service contract?" Omar, not having a vote, had more leeway to question the apparent rush to drive through bills that would normally have been questioned and negotiated with the prior stock of Senators until the major factions had a portion of something they wanted in each motion. Now, with the planet in disarray, the government under major restructuring, and most of the factions broken and fluttering in the Earth breezes, the leadership - mainly the Empress - was taking advantage of the novice Senate to recover power long lost. If he could break down her credibility through questioning, perhaps the rest of the Senate would see the same wayward attempt to push through riders advantageous to her and Hitan under the serpent tongue guise of 'the People'. "Becoming a Citizen is a prized accomplishment. Anything less than a decade of service would water down its importance to Rihan society."

"I agree." Aehkhifv tr'Khnialmnae had elected to remain silent through the latest string of tirades as his mind was not as clear cut on these issues as with others. "Strength of purpose and conviction in one's duties. Let these second class citizens gain their full citizenship, but only after serving their decade. They will serve their tour in front line units, with pure blood Rihannsu, as lower classes. Not only will it foster a true sense of accomplishment and pride, it will thin out the numbers that actually do make it the full term, ensuring only the cream of the crop make it to the end. Only with such clarifications will I stand for this policy."

"I can agree with 'that'," Senator s'Tei spoke as he stood. "If that is what we vote on, then I vote yes." He'd spent his time listening to everyone say nothing. Now, finally, some action and something to act on.

"A decade?" Senator Rital asked questioningly. "Most of us 'here', members of the Senate, have not served that kind of term. I would support cutting it in half, five years, with a possibility for posthumous awarding of citizenship. If their lives are lost in the causes of the Empire, they deserve to 'be' a citizen of that Empire...and their loss recognized the same."

"Perhaps," tr'Ahalaen added, "We should consider making citizenship based upon merit instead of time.... Though that would prove...."

As the Senators continued to argue among themselves about smaller and smaller details, the Empress Kaidalin t'Vriesu sat back in the throne and buried her face in her hands. They had been here for hours now and these people had managed to agree on only one thing...and all of them were not even here. She could scarcely imagine the horror that the Senate must be in full session.

She looked up and saw Hitan smiling at her. The question in his eyes was obvious: Do you see?

Ever since the Hydran invasion had ended Hitan had been asking her to dissolve the Senate. Kaidalin had first thought it was a joke...but now she could indeed see - it was not possible for the Senate to rebuild the Empire, not when every single Senator had their own agenda to throw behind each bill, no matter how good it might be for the people. It was more important to Omar and his kind that the 'factions' in the Senate be satisfied than the needs of the people met....

Of course, Hitan knew that he had a vested interest in urging Kaidalin to take power. He was one of her father's oldest friends and he knew he had her ear - and much of their politics was the same. In the end, Hitan thought he could rule through Kaidalin. If she were to take power, there would come a time when that belief would be shattered...but that was the way of politics, it seemed - 'first you fight your enemies, then you fight your friends'.

Still...he was right. She was the Empress. They were, before anything, her people. If the Senate failed....

From behind the veil of death, Hitan had done everything in his power to help shield the Throne from the outrage caused by the recent invasion. In the streets, the people - led by the Blades of the Declared, most of them military heroes, champions of the Rihan - blamed the Senate for what had happened. t'Vriesu had come back with the conquering army, having put together an unlikely force of allies, to liberate her world....

Yes...great power was within her grasp. Yet she had ignored it, determined not to use it. The Senate had grown from the monarchy - it was the work of evolution, and Kaidalin was not one to lightly ignore such powerful forces. However, it was clear to her now that in this time, in these circumstances, her people needed to move as one.

She nodded to Hitan.

He smiled ever so slightly, rose to his feet and excused himself from the Senate...not that anyone heard. Very soon, he would return...and with a force of his most trusted men behind him. Until then, the Senate would endure.

"The Strength of Conviction" - Part XIII

Starring:
Empress Kaidalin t'Vriesu, Leader of the Rihannsu Empire (Syed)
Proconsul Omar, Head of the Rihannsu Senate (Ian)

Senator Aehkhifv tr'Khnialmnae, Representative of the Declared (Eric)
Senator Tal'Aehkhifv Khev of Khev'Nveid Province (Jeremy)
Senator Dhivael t'Vrentath of Korthre Province (Kat)
Senator Khiy ir-Kvurkhae Keirianh of Kvurkhae (Chad)
Senator Aren Rital, Representative of Ch'Yem (Chris)
Senator Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen of the Nn'verih Province (Syed)
Senator Sh'rev t'Sannellieu of the Chula Province (Robert S)
Senator Raev Maec s'Tei of Kotor Province (Cliff)
Senator Delon ir-Fethraie Valdran of Fethraie Province (Jola)
Senator Tolon Kerec, representative of Baratan Province (Pat)
Admiral Ael Donatra, Acting Commander, Rihannsu Star Navy (Pat)

*************************
First Month of Earth (Khaidoa nuhwir s'Avilh)
Second Week (Dhaei nukrer)
Day 192, Rihan Calendar
*************************
Remains of Hall of Senate
Ki Baratan
ch'Rihan
*************************

Yes...great power was within her grasp. Yet she had ignored it, determined not to use it. The Senate had grown from the monarchy - it was the work of evolution, and Kaidalin was not one to lightly ignore such powerful forces. However, it was clear to her now that in this time, in these circumstances, her people needed to move as one.

She nodded to Hitan.

He smiled ever so slightly, rose to his feet and excused himself from the Senate...not that anyone heard. Very soon, he would return...and with a force of his most trusted men behind him. Until then, the Senate would endure.

Raising her voice over the bickering Senators, Kaidalin said, "Senators...please.... It is obvious to the Throne that there are entirely too many proposals on the floor for there to be a meaningful vote. If all of you who have suggestions would have your staffs - what is left of them - put together a proposal, We will examine the possibility of a compromise." She took a deep breath and paused, "There is still, however, one more matter we would like to hear your opinions on before We end today's deliberations. Tell us, Senators, what would you do with the prisoner named Curran?"

Tal Khev noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing. His attention was now focused on Kaidalin. He remained seated but made a point to covertly call for his bodyguards to be on standby via some simple commands on a PADD. To anyone else, it would simply look as if he were taking notes. "What would please the Throne to be done with him?" Tal Khev asked respectfully. "We have all already heard many debates on the matter ranging from his torture and execution all the way up to simply handing him back over to the Federation." He then arched an eyebrow. "I would like to remind the Senate once again of the Titan incident," he said. "When the Federation could not get their operative back through peaceful means, they staged a strike to retrieve him. We can safely assume that they will do the same in this case and we all can safely assume that such strike team is already on the way here regardless of what we decide."

He then stood up. "My new proposal on the matter is to relocate Curran to another planet altogether. We hold up the Federation team that will inevitably come for him while we have Curran in another sector. We leak some information as to what prison, on Romulus here, that we 'supposedly' have him in, and then simply wait." A grin crossed his features as he looked over to the pro-Federation Alliance faction, as he now called them. "Then we will see if your precious Federation friends are worth entering into a full alliance with. If they get impatient and do a covert raid, that we will be prepared for, then I say to execute Curran and the strike team as a message. If they actually wait for once, then we can see where to go from there." he said, sitting back down. He wasn't beyond compromise, but that was about as much common ground that he was willing to give on the subject.

Having remained silent since his uncharacteristic and near unforgivable outburst earlier, t'Sannellieu rose once again and with a deep and humble bow to the Empress spoke, "I would concur. With this recent data, which I assure you Empress has just been decoded, not held onto for any political gain, my meager trust for the Federation has vanished. They have shown themselves to be as untrustworthy as a drunken Klingon. They have shown their willingness to cast aside any value they hold whenever it suits them. If a team comes to ch'Rihan to rescue this Curran, let us execute them all as suggested. But as for Curran, I would humbly suggest we dispose of him now, then even if a Starfleet team succeeds in penetrating our borders they will gain nothing but a corpse!"

Rital sighed. There had been some stupid suggestions in the halls of the senate this day, but as the Humans would say, 'damn'! "So your solution to Federation treachery which you consider so criminal is to respond with treachery?" The Senator from Ch'Yem shook his head. "I will not even state how hypocritical that very notion is. I would, however, suggest to her highness that if we knew what information this... 'Curran'... took from us, that we may be able to mold a strength from this apparent weakness. Knowing what he offered allows us to maintain the secrets he hasn't, while playing on the pre-conceived notions the Federation may have formed based off the information he did collect. We can then contain this damage, and from this weakness harbor and take advantage of an unexpected opportunity. Punishment is ancillary; I suggest we probe his mind."

"Hypocritical? That we punish a criminal according to 'our' law," t'Sannellieu snapped with barely contained anger. "Does not this Federation purport to respect the traditions and legal codes of others, yet time and time again they have shown themselves to be incapable of adhering to their own standards. Before you insult me again Senator I would ask you think first. If our vaunted security agencies have not yet probed his mind and extracted all they need I would have to ask why this has not already been done. He is a criminal, and should simply be dealt with as such and as soon as possible!"

"Interrogations sometimes take time," Khiy ir-Kvurkhae Keirianh said calmly. He spoke from experience - he had overseen many interrogations in his youth of various native heathen rebel upstarts on his homeworld. "There is no need to plot and scheme here. If the Federation launches an espionage team into our borders uninvited, then they will be taken care of by the security and counter-intelligence agencies we have in place. The Federation knows we have their citizen imprisoned, if they want him back, then they should be willing to bargain for his release. We will keep him for some set time and then release him, in exchange for economic resources."

"Interrogations take time," Khiy repeated, "but I think many would agree that, like most other things, there is an application of diminishing returns. If we do not learn anything from him by our deadline, then we will likely never learn anything from him."

"You would release him, alive," t'Sannellieu asked in disgust, "in exchange for some paltry resources? An example should be made of one who would try to assassinate a Praetor of the Romulan Empire. If this man is not killed as an example then others will see it as a sign of weakness, one we can ill afford to make, especially now!"

"I do not care for this non-Rihannsu. If the majority calls for his execution, I will accept that. I don't care if he lives or dies, his life is not that valuable to me," Khiy said, "He failed in his attempt. His crime is attempted murder and possible conspiracy. One possible punishment for those crimes is death, but it is not a mandatory punishment. If it would be better for the political capital of the Empire to release him alive, then I see no reason not to."

Looking to the Empress t'Sannellieu nodded politely, "I believe though the Empress has asked us all our opinions, rather than open the debate again I shall hold my peace for now and abide by her decision. My opinion has been stated." Looking around the room at his fellow senators he raised an eyebrow. "Fellow senators?" he inquired.

Just then Senator tr'Ahalaen rose to speak, but at a gesture from the Empress, he held his peace. Hitan had returned. Slowly, deliberately, the Praetor walked through the Senate. Kaidalin's personal guard followed him. Then came two Galae officers, backs straight, ignoring the confused buzz on the Senate floor. No one spoke out loud, however, as t'Vriesu still held her hand up in a gesture for silence...and to disobey a directive from the Throne meant certain death.

Two more officers marched in. Quickly their numbers began to multiply, until the shattered Senate building seemed full of them.... Four. Six. Ten. Twenty. Forty. Fifty. In a semi-circle, they stood at the base of the throne, facing the Senators. Finally, when they were all in position, t'Vriesu lowered her hand.

The Senators erupted in a frenzy of questions, accusations and confusion.

The Empress said nothing for some time, allowing the fury of moment to pass.... Then the young woman rose, imperious, and called for silence. It took a little longer for the Senate to comply with her command than it should have but comply they did. Nothing in her manner betrayed the wild beating of her sinking heart, the wrenching pain in her gut, the numbness she was feeling in her limbs. This was the moment she had been born for...the moment she had dreaded...

"We asked you for your opinion, Senators, because from this day forth that is all you will have the authority to give. In the face of this crisis, satisfied now that you are too divided to guide the Rihan with a firm, swift and decisive hand, We have chosen to dissolve the Senate. It was the Throne that brought the Empire to glory the first time, and it falls to us to do so again. From the First Senate to now, the Empire has been in your hands and *this*," the Empress snarled, pointing to the broken walls of Hall of the Senate, "Is where you have brought us. You were Shepherds, Stewards...not Masters...and, failing in your duty, you have brought your flock and your charge to ruin. So until such time as We are satisfied with the progress and direction of *our* Empire, We are dissolving the Senate. You are free to leave. Jolan Tru."

Pandemonium.

Ignoring everything, Hitan walked up and said, "I will stay here, Empress. There is nothing left for you here."

Kaidalin nodded.

Silent, surrounded by her personal guard, a prayer to the Elements in her young heart, the Light of the Rihan, Empress Kaidalin t'Vriesu left the ruined halls of a broken Senate.

So glad to see you have overcome them
Completely silent now
With heaven's help
You've cast your demons out ...

****

"The Noose" - Part One

by Lt. JG Ella Grey

"Seer" - Part One

by J. Andrus Suder

****

I looked away, how could I not?

He was dying, his face beginning to resemble raw hamburger meat, and it was my fault.

Daro continued to swing at him with a methodical pace - pull back, punch, repeat, pull back, punch repeat - exactly as John had done to me on Copernicus, except that he had grinned and my assassin's face was fairly stoic.

There was no smile on my face and, obviously, John wasn't smiling now either.

I felt like I was going to be sick ...

****

USS Galaxy Library

The woman looked up. "Did you say something?"

Andy cocked his head. Two seconds ago, she had been projecting her emotions so strongly that he had felt his stomach lurch but now she was calm, or at least mentally collected.

Neat trick.

Her voice was also strange. It was mechanical, not quite like the layered voices of the Borg but definitely a far cry from human.

Odd, Andy thought but decided not to pry. For now.

"I wanted to know if you were okay," He said with a smile. She had what appeared to be the entire Aviation section surrounding her, including paper notes and a few computer PADDs. "I could feel some pretty strong -"

"I'm fine," She said flatly.

Hmmm, there was something there. Andrus didn't have to read her mind to see the way her eyes took in his or the second of annoyance that crossed her face. Not a fan of telepaths, he decided. He couldn't really blame her, in most cases he wasn't a fan either.

Still, he felt the need to help the woman, even though it wasn't his place to counsel and she probably wasn't at all interested in explaining the voice to him). What he had felt had been painful - revulsion, heartache, an overall sense of damnation and despair. Perhaps even more painful because he had remembered feeling the same so long ago.

Andy gave a mental scowl. He'd have to yell at Madden the next time he saw his so-called friend for turning him into a such bleeding heart.

"I'll just be at my desk if you need anything," Andrus said.

"I know my way around the Library," She replied dismissively.

He raised an eyebrow at the ' tone,' but nodded and left. He really wasn't there to be any one's shoulder to cry on and, besides, she obviously knew where his desk was.

And somehow Andy knew (because of some highly-tuned criminal instinct or maybe because of the five cups of coffee had opened up special places in his brain, who knew?), that the woman would find him again when she needed to.

Ella Grey frowned at the retreating form and then went back to her book.

Her response time as a SAR pilot was good but good didn't really cut it when all was said and done. So she'd come to the Library for any tips and strategies that she could find from pilots of the past, especially since she'd been told to give the ships and flight simulators a couple hours of rest.

Being surrounded by books and research had brought back memories of studying to get into Starfleet and that in turn had brought up earlier memories ...

Ella took a deep breath and centered herself again. Some days were better than others, she guessed, but she needed to control herself, especially in the company of a Betazoid. There was always that fear of being read by a telepath even though Ella knew that a good lawyer could get an such a reading deemed inadmissible in a Federation court. Still, it was a secret and the more people who knew a secret meant the less chance it had of remaining one.

Four people knew hers. One loved her too much to ever say anything, the second had offered to finish the job once upon a time, the third - well, she had the ultimate blackmail against him if she was desperate, and sick, enough to use it, and the fourth had lived long enough, and had his own demons, to be understanding about it, although he was still probably the biggest risk ...

Enough, she told herself sternly and grabbed the book firmly. What had happened was in the past and what Ella was hoping to work on now was the future. You couldn't change past actions and you couldn't apologize for past mistakes, you could only move forward, learn from them, and try to do better.

She knew that. She felt that.

But sometimes she also felt like she was choking.

"Masks"

(Flashback Events Occur Immediately after the Flashback in 'Botched Recruitment')

Principal Characters
Major Corran Rex
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 12
Holodeck 3

Victor looked at the drink in his hand for the fifteenth time in less than a minute and wondered what he was doing here.

He didn't drink - not alcoholic beverages, anyway - and holographic synthehol was even more pointless than the actual substance if that were possible. If he'd been thinking, he'd have brought something that he *would* drink with him, but that would have required more planning than he'd been allowed.

He didn't go to parties - he was, as he'd told Angelienia, almost as welcome as a simultaneous Internal Affairs/Temporal Investigations Fact-Finding Mission at such gatherings - and a party whose purpose seemed to be nothing more than celebrating the fact that he was alive was, well, pointless. Of course he was alive, he'd not given himself permission to die after all, so celebrating something so obvious was an idea that he couldn't really seem to grasp.

He didn't spend time on beaches as a rule, either - any body of water that he couldn't see all the way to the bottom of was a potential habitat for aquatic predators, and he wasn't comfortable floating around waiting for them to surface and attack - and the fact that this beach was holographic and the water unreal didn't make any difference. There were principles of survival involved, and to allow one slip might lead to another when the water was real. Besides this was, after all, the Galaxy; the idea that someone had, as a joke, programmed in oceanic predators to do battle with those swimming for the amusement of the party-goers wasn't out of the question.

A bright laugh carried across the unreal sands to where he stood at the edge of the phantom jungle, and the sudden warmth the sound triggered inside him reminded him of why, despite all of those objections, he was here: because Angelienia had wanted to come.

His eyes sought her out, watching her as she played a game with a ball and a net - something like tennis, only with more players, a bigger ball, and no rackets - with a group of crewman, pausing between plays to turn and look his way, checking to make certain that he was still there and all right. She was, Victor realized, very bright - not in the sense that she shed light, but rather in that she exuded life. She was… yin to his yang.

The thought took his mind back to the first time he'd used the phrase, back before the Battle of Romulus, to a small world outside the Federation called Monsalea and a conversation with Major Rex….

****

Five Months Ago

Atlantis Sector
Mosanalea Free Trade World
Xlred's Drinks and Eats

Victor examined the seat beside him, decided that the stain covering the seat further in was, indeed, left by a Lurian who'd been shot through the lower torso with a cheap blaster, and chose not to move any further into the shadows of the booth while the waitress delivered their drinks, smiled and winked at Corran, and departed with an invitational sway of her hips. Fishing one of the SI devices he'd kept after his mission with the Attendant - a privacy shield good for a three-meter radius - out, he set it on the table and switched it on.

"So, partner, do you think this is what they really want, or is there something else layered behind this?"

"If it was anybody else," Corran admitted, "I'd be suspicious. But Nikolo's assigned to Intel work out here, and that means two things."

Victor thought back to the meeting they'd just left, the way Nikolo had set it up, and his reactions to Victor and Corran's response to it. "He's not good enough to work in the core Federation."

"Right. He's stupid, for one, and two, he's a deadender. He'll be the same rank he is now until Starfleet cashes him out. He sees the Marianne as his big break - and he could be right." the Trill admitted. "I know one thing, though."

"Only one?"

"He's not getting Marianne's power core." Corran said flatly, ignoring Vic's newfound sense of "humor". "It's the property of a private citizen of the Federation - namely me - and the Seventh Guarantee specifically forbids seizure of private property. And I've been around long enough... I've got enough friends that he can't do a gods-damned thing about it. He can have his little data padd. I don't care. The only thing I want is Ganz's head."

"Actually," Victor said with a frown, "I'm not certain that he should have the data on those weapons caches either. This far out, without someone watching him, he's stupid enough to try and either seize them himself to demonstrate he's better than he is, or he'll get the bright idea to go into business himself and sell the stuff. Neither one of those is a good option for me." He shrugged. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it - and if we have to run him down on the way across, then he's road kill."

"That reminds me..." the Trill trailed off. "What's with you?"

"With me?"

"You, Kreighoff. Mr. aloof, creepy, 'I'm Death Incarnate' guy. When the hell did you develop a personality?"

"Ah." Victor considered things as he sipped at the drink he'd ordered. "I suppose the simple answer is 'I've always had one' - but that isn't really answering the question you're asking, is it?"

Corran didn't really think a verbal reply was necessary.

"I didn't think so," Victor said as he sipped at the drink again and set it down. "Masks - That's why you're seeing this from me for the first time."

"Masks?" the Trill asked. He understood the concept, of course - his people considered them a fine art. Unsurprising, really, considering the psychology of his species.

"Masks," Victor confirmed. "We all wear them. We do it to let others see the parts of us that we want them to see, to conceal the parts we want to hide, and sometimes to be someone other than who we are. In a sense, you do it every time the symbiote changes hosts, just more dramatically than most."

"So is this another mask, then?"

"No, it's because I'm not wearing one, not really. Right now, I am more nearly myself than you have ever seen me. This is who, what, I would be if I were… someone different. This mask is thin, very thin, and it conceals little of the person I am. And that's a problem."

The Trill frowned slightly at that, though he understood what Victor was getting at. "I know a little something about that, Victor. I walk through every minute of every day with forty different voices - forty different responses - to every single thing."

"Which is why you understand where most people wouldn't." Victor took another sip of his drink. "I'm out of balance, Major. On board the ship, the mask I wear is heavy; it buries and hides so much of me for a reason: that weight keeps me in balance. Here, like this… I'm not balanced. And that's dangerous, because it's harder for me to control the part of me that I keep buried when there's so little between it and the surface." Victor set the drink down again. "I know you knew Bernhard, and you think that means you understand what I am, but you don't. I'm not what he was, not really. I'm worse, much worse, and the longer I'm like this, the longer I'm being Erik Todesh ndler, the greater the chance I'll prove it to you."

Corran looked frankly at his companion - his friend - a moment, and wondered when that line had really been crossed, for the both of them. "What can I do?" he asked quietly.

"There isn't anything you can do. You aren't what I need to balance myself. When I was Erik before it was different, but now…" he shrugged.

"Go on."

"I was Erik when I worked with the Attendant a year ago. It was different then, because she was there to keep me, to keep him, balanced."

"The Klingon woman," Corran nodded. "I can understand the attraction - "

Victor shook his head. "We weren't lovers, Major. She wants to kill me, not have sex with me. While they're both needs, that's not what balances me. It's… light to dark. Life to death. If one of you studied philosophy, it's like the concept of yin and yang that originated in Ancient China on Terra. That's what balances me: constant, close contact with my opposite."

"That..." Rex chuckled. "That, I understand, Victor. Very well."

"There's going to be a fight when we get to Ganz's place," Victor observed quietly. "We both know it. Unlike the one at the police station, it'll be close-in, and personal… and when that happens, you're going to need to keep out of arm's reach until I'm myself again. That may take some time, or it may not - I don't know. I don't know what's going to happen. I just don't want to open my eyes and find I've hurt or killed you."

"I cannot agree more with that." Corran admitted frankly, and pulled out the PADD containing the blueprints they'd obtained. "So here's what we do..."

"Revelations"

Lieutenant 8-Ball Hunter
First Lieutenant Steven Jonas

(Occurs just prior to "Lashing Out" and after Faylin's funeral)

**** Ten Forward ****

Steven sat moping on a couch. The funeral had been and gone and he had had many people come and pay him their respects. Seemed word of their marriage had spread fast. Swirling the Iced Tea around in the mug, Steven couldn't help but wonder why she couldn't have trusted him. He'd been doing it since she had died, thinking of stupid reasons for why she hadn't, or what he had done. And every time just made it that much worse for him. But he couldn't help it. It was how he was feeling.

Looking out upon the stars, he sighed. "I hope you are safe up there with Olivia." he whispered.

8-ball saw Steven from across the room and sighed. She did not want to comfort him. She did not want to talk to him. She did not want to have be a crying shoulder while whispering platitudes like, "She's in a better place." 8-ball didn't know if she believed in a better place, and very frankly, she wasn't even sure she wanted Faylin to be there at this point. She was too angry to be a good comfort right now.

~I'll be going somewhere soon for an undetermined amount of time~ Faylin had said. ~Undetermined my ass~ 8-ball thought. ~That selfish little bitch.~

8-ball watched Steven for another minute and took a deep breath. She might have been pissed at Faylin, but she had made a promise, and a promise to the dead always seemed worth so much more. She sighed and made herself cross the room. "Mind if I join you," she drawled.

Steven looked up, seeing 8-ball standing there. "Sure, have a seat." he replied, wiping the tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

Great. Mission accomplished. Except here was the comforting part, and 8-ball wasn't so good at that. Try as she might, she just couldn't bring her to utter the words 'better place'. Instead, she said, "I'm so sorry, Steven."

"Thanks, but I'm sick of hearing people giving me their wishes and prayers. I just want Faylin back." He sniffled as his eyes started watering again. "I miss her so much." he sobbed.

"Yeah," 8-ball said, knowing better than to add ~Me too~. "It. . .it all seemed to happen so fast. I. . .I wish there was something I could have done."

Steven nodded. "Same. But she didn't deem me worthy of helping her through her troubles. She tried to kill herself, leaving me nothing but a note that said 'I love you and I'm sorry.' I just wish she had let me in. Fay was so guarded with her past."

"She was pretty guarded with just about everything," 8-ball agreed. "I was just talking to her, practically the other day." And here 8-ball couldn't say that everything was normal because things hadn't been utterly normal. . .Faylin had said she'd be leaving. 8-ball just had taken that to mean freakin' DEAD. But 8-ball certainly wasn't going to tell Steven about that, not when he assumed he wasn't "worthy" enough to know.

~Goddamn Faylin~ 8-ball thought again.

"You know, we were just chatting, talking about, you know, people. Boys. Girl talk. And then this and. . .it's just so abrupt."

And it was abrupt, even with a warning. Death was always, always, always abrupt.

Steven nodded quietly as he looked up at 8. "You know, we got married that morning? Before she poisoned herself?" he wiped at his eyes, trying to stifle the tears that were forming. "We said we would love, honor and cherish each other as part of our vows. How can anyone, hours after taking such vows, do something so mean and heartless as taking their own life without so much as an explanation? It isn't right? It isn't..." The tears flowed and Steven stopped talking, letting them drip unabated down his face.

8-ball didn't have much of an answer for that. She wasn't sure if she'd call Faylin's actions mean and heartless. . .but selfish, she had no problem with, and how the FUCK could you do that seemed pretty okay too. However, starting a rage-fest didn't seem appropriate, what with the whole take-care-of-Steven charge. GOD, she was pissed at Faylin.

But when the guy's girl kills herself and he is crying all over the place, you don't bitch about the dead girl. You do something sympathetic, like hugging or something. 8-ball wasn't a huge hugging person; she liked spontaneous hugs, to startle the hell out of people, but comfort and the like... wasn't her cup of tea. But here she was. . .and she had to do something. . . so she leaned forward and hugged Steven, not entirely sure what his reaction would be.

Steven felt her wrap her arms around him, feeling the warmth of her body as it pressed against his. Wrapping his arms around her, he hugged her back. To feel another person so close felt... well it felt nice. Tears filled his eyes as he held her close. Memories of his brief time with Faylin filled his senses, flashing before him like slides in a projector. Pulling back slightly, he whispered, "I'm sorry Fay," before leaning in and kissing his wife softly on the lips.

And 8-ball pulled back hard, less from the kiss, which was kind of unexpected, than from hearing Faylin's name, which was REALLY unexpected. "Uh, Steven?"

Steven blinked rapidly. "You're not Fay. She was just here. Where is she?"

8-ball just sat there for a minute. ~Now preparing for Red Alert. Red Alert, RED ALERT. Sitting next to crazy man!~ Not that 8-ball was one to judge when it came to seeing people who weren't there, but at least she'd never kissed anybody and said, "Hey, Azra, what's shaking?"

She pulled back a little further in her seat and did her best to speak in a placating-don't-hurt-me kind of tone reserved for the mentally not-so-great. "Steven. . Faylin's dead. She killed herself. You know that. I'm 8-ball, by the way. Remember me, little ole 8-ball?"

Steven, apparently, didn't care about little ole 8-ball.

"What do you mean she's dead? She was just..." The events just passed flashed into his mind and he shook his head, realizing what he had done. "I'm sorry 8. I got lost in my memories of her. I thought you were her. I didn't mean to..." Steven looked down at the floor, fearing that he had just scared another friend away. "I don't know what's happening to me any more. I can't get her out of my head. I can't get my angel out of here." he tapped his head with forefinger.

8-ball knew it was inappropriate at the time, but she couldn't help raising an eyebrow at the term 'angel' to describe Faylin. Faylin was a lot of things. . .angel wasn't one of them. Saying that (particularly to a slightly loopy with grief guy) might not be the best of ideas, so she kept her mouth shut about that. Instead, she said, "Maybe you need to talk to someone. You know, like a counselor or something." 8-ball felt kind of weird pimping out the counselors when she wouldn't go to one herself. She supposed everyone was like that.

"What's with the raised eyebrow?" Steven asked as he wiped the tears away.

"What?" ~Damn that eyebrow. Stupid Vulcan giveaway gesture. "No, it's nothing."

"Cmon 8. I'd like to think I know you a little. That wasn't nothing and you know it."

He was just going to be a relentless bastard about this, wasn't he? 8-ball sighed.

"Steven," 8-ball said. "I loved Faylin, I did." ~I'm exceedingly pissed at her now, but. . .~

"She was. . .she was a lot of fun; she was great to hang out with, and I'm sure, for you, she was everything, someone to talk to, someone to cling to, someone to do regular soul mate activities with, but. . . she wasn't an angel, Steven. You can't put people on that high of pedestal, especially when they're dead. You'll forget what they were really like."

"Fay. . .Fay slept around a lot. I mean, before you, I'm sure, but she was only number 2 to my top skank; you have to know that. You remember when I said we were talking right before she died? We were talking a lot about shared experiences with boys, you know, like I don't know, Corran or whatever. And none of that makes her a bad person; she had fun when she lived; that's a good thing. But she wasn't an angel, hon. Trying to remember her that way. . .it's not fair to her."

Steven sat wide-eyed as she talked about Faylin sleeping around. He knew that she used to do that, but that had all been in her past. She'd never mentioned any guy called Corran. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know, but... "Corran? Who's Corran? Was it a long time ago?"

~Great. Fucking great. Miss the big fucking picture and focus on Corran.~ 8-ball knew she had just did the proverbial foot in mouth thing, but there was no backtracking. "Corran. You know, Rex. It was at some party deal. I don't know. Look, that's kind of not the point. . ."

"Party? What Party?" Steven almost shouted. He was getting a bad feeling about where the conversation was headed, and if it was right, he wasn't likely to have Fay on any sort of pedestal. "Not the party Fay organized?"

~Fuck a fucking duck.~ 8-ball supposed she could lie but she didn't suppose Steven would believe it. "Yeah," 8-ball said. "That one, I think."

"We got back together the next morning. You telling me she slept with a guy then shortly afterwards jumped into my arms professing her love for me? Oh god. I was a fool. How could I not have seen her deceiving nature?" Fresh tears formed, not tears of sadness, but of anger.

That was it. 8-ball had had enough. She kept her promise; she tried out the comforting thing. She sucked at it, big fucking surprise, but she had tried it, and now. . .she was just pissed off.

"You know what, Steven," 8-ball said. "That's it. I'm tired of this. Faylin loved you. I know that. And no matter what she did, you still loved her, and there's not a goddamned thing in the world you can do to change it. So she slept with some guy while you were temporarily broken up. Who gives a shit? She didn't stay with him. She didn't keep sleeping with him while you were together. That's what should be important, and for Christsake, man, if you're going to be pissed at your ANGEL for anything, it should be for killing herself instead of dealing with shit. You should be pissed that she left you, not that she had sex with someone when you WEREN'T TOGETHER. But believe whatever you want, Jonas. Whatever makes it easier to move on."

8-ball stood up. "Faylin wanted me to look out for you. But you know what? I've got my own fucking problems, and if she was that worried about you to begin with, she shouldn't have taken her own life. If you'll excuse me, I have to go. I've got my own ghosts to drown in."

Then 8-ball walked off and didn't look back. She couldn't deal with Steven, not right now.

Steven sat there trying to take in what she had just said. "See ya.' he called out, not realizing that she was out of hearing range already. She was wrong though. It wasn't the sleeping with that he was angry about. It was her not trusting that he would forgive her. That she'd kept the knowledge from him. And after he had been truthful and open with her down on the planet.

Though he didn't realize it as he strode from the bar, he was soon going to something completely out of character; something that was going to land him in hot water. If only he had time to think about what really mattered, that he still loved Faylin despite all she had done to him. Sadly it was going to take quite some time for that realization to sink in.

"The Days of 8-ball, Episode One: Dead Girls, and their Consequences"

Lieutenant 8-ball Hunter

In her dreams, 8-ball saw dead girls. When she woke up, they were still there.

"Okay," 8-ball said. "Who the hell are all these dead kids?" The kids giggled, which was unnerving, as they were dead, and also, hopefully, imaginary.

"Seriously," 8-ball said. "I'm pretty sure I only managed to kill one of you."

Azra stepped forward from the crowd and sat on the other end of 8-ball's bed. Her face was half burned, like it had been in death, but her eyes were a crimson never found in life. The dead girls surrounding all had similar faces, expressionless and cold, like a million death shrouds. The only difference was the color of their hair and, occasionally, hemmorhaging eyes.

"That's true," Azra said, "but let's face it: you pretty much suck with children. You killed me, after all, and you almost killed my brother, and then there was that whole classroom of kids you tortured. You ever think of living in isolation for the betterment of mankind?"

~No~ 8-ball thought, ~and that's not fair. It was the Dithparu, not me. And what happened to you was an accident. I didn't kill you, not really.~

She didn't say it because she wasn't sure it was true, although she desperately needed it to be. Besides, that kind of argument didn't hold water with a ghost, or in this case, a continually reoccuring hallucination.

Instead, 8-ball closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on what was real. ~The sheets under you, those are real. Your skin, your goosebumps, those are real. The nausea. . .the nausea is real. She isn't real. She isn't real.~

"Go away," 8-ball whispered outloud. "Go away. Go away."

Then she could feel the breath of the ghost just over the side of her neck. "I went away once," Azra whispered. "This time won't be so easy." And when 8-ball opened her eyes, several minutes later, Azra was gone. She'd taken all her dead friends with her.

But this wasn't an end.

"She'll be back," 8-ball said.

****

Forty minutes, a sonic shower, and a few bottles of Romulan ale later, 8-ball was lying on her floor, staring up at the blurring, shifting ceiling. "Compu'er, begin log," she said, and paused for a moment, trying to decide the best way she could begin such an entry.

"Previously, on the Days of 8-ball, our famed heroine had a massively fucked up life." This, 8-ball felt, was a good start, and she nodded judiciously against the ground.

"It all started more than twenty years ago, when a human pilot fell for a Vulcan scientist. Reasons against such an anomaly are unknown and completely incomprehensible to you and I. Anyway, it happened, and under pale moonlight on some Canadian beach, or maybe just in a dingy turbolift on some shitty Vulcan ship, the pilot and the scientist fucked, and our heroine was born."

"Then, as they say, things only went downhill from there. Our girl went from being a spunky child to a half orphan to a Vulcan prisoner to a teen runaway. Then she went from a sexy barmaid to a homeless teenager to a bored cadet to the Chief Science Chick. This is her story. This is her tale. And what a lousy, piece of shit tale it is."

8-ball lifted one of the bottles, found it empty, and went for another one. "Recently," 8-ball said, "or really, not that recently at all, our heroine landed on the Trill homeworld after an Amish nutjob helped launch a bunch of terrorist attacks. Lt. Hunter tried to rescue a bunch of kids she orphaned on the planet, and for her trouble got saddled with two children to tote around. The kids, Azra and Kaden, were cute, adorable, and pains in the ass, especially the older one, Azra. Oh, she was an annoying little shit all right. She asked questions and made sarcastic comments and delighted in making our heroine's life hell, but our heroine was stuck with her, so she tried to bond, tried to take care of 'em, and all that."

"And THAT turned out to be a gargantuan waste of time because our heroine failed, and failed spectacularly, I might add. A console exploded and half of Azra's face fried off, and when she need a bit of freakin' comfort, when she could use just a LITTLE bit of help from the only adult in the area, what did our heroine do? Nothing. She proved herself to be a useless lump of flesh."

8-ball rolled over on the ground and pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. "But did the fun end there for our tireless hero? No! Hell no! The fun ne'er stops for Lieutenant 8-ball Hunter. No, after the Trill came the Dithparu, a WACKY buncha aliens who invaded all the telepaths' heads. Did it matter that 8-ball Hunter hadn't used her telepathy since she was a teen stuck on Vulcan? Did it MATTER that 8-ball Hunter had done two lousy mind melds in her whole life? No! The Dithparu fucking came anyway, and two of them invaded our heroine: Anlaika, the psychotic bitch, and Joe Satan, her otherwise nameless flunkie."

"Under the influence of the Dithparu, 8-ball had sex with several unwitting crewmember right before killing 'em mercilessly. Oh that was fun, lemme tell you. Then 8-ball beat up her worthless, dumbshit boyfriend, and then, for a final act of excitement, she held a classroom of kids hostage, terrorizing them and torturing them and just generally being the big bad witch. Thankfully for our heroine, Death himself came to her rescue, and he expelled the evil Dithparu-but not before a forced mind meld, of course. Remember the fun never stops for 8-ball."

8-ball leaned down to pick up her last bottle of ale, stumbled, and nearly fell on her ass. "But all of that, well, that was okay. I mean, yeah, it sucked for 8-ball, it did, but she seemed to be gettin' over the whole psychically raped thing. But THEN her telepathy, which had been previously repressed in all those good anti-Vulcan years, started coming out in spastic, wonky bits , making her far more powerful than she'd ever been. She could do non touch telepathy, very strange for a non powerful half-Vulcan, but of course she couldn't control it. No, our heroine just gets random looks into people's heads."

"And if THAT wasn't enough, well, then our favorite little dead child, Azra, decided to make frequent guest appearances, popping up in the unlikeliest of places. Namely, the land of the living, where the dead are not supposed to venture. But never fear, our heroine isn't really being haunted. She's just gone fucking bonkers, that's all. She's just hallucinating half the time and has to keep the whole "I see dead people" thing a secret, for fear of a tight fitting white jacket and, much worse, mounds of therapy."

8-ball shook her head, which made her dizzy, so she stopped and drained the rest of the bottle. She let it drop loudly on the table and staggered over to her bed. She meant to sit down on the edge of it but found herself flat on her back on the ground, and this time she was too tired to get herself back up again. The ceiling was blurrier than ever, and the whole room seemed to be moving.

"Pretty much," 8-ball told the ceiling, "our heroine is fucked. Fucked up and fucked over and there ain't a damn thing she can do 'bout it. And that's about all this time, constant viewers, for this edition of The Days of 8-ball, but in a moment, scenes from our next episode, where 8-ball eats paint chips and bounces off padded walls. Computer, end log."

The computer chirped and complied.

Barely conscious, 8-ball began muttering again, either to the ceiling or to God. "Please don't let me dream of her," she whispered. "Please let it just be over."

Fifteen seconds later, 8-ball passed out, and God answered her slurred prayers.

Unfortunately, for our dear heroine, the answer was a clear, resounding, "No."

"Nothing is right anymore"

Featuring Valentina Kyznetsova (Formerly LtJG Eve)

~~~~~~~~

She could still see them. Her arms, devoid of skin up to the elbows, yet what had been hidden underneath wasn't flesh. She'd seen what was supposed to be under the surface before. Her father had come home from more than one hunting expedition bloody and broken, only to get up and go out for more as soon as he was well enough. It acted like muscles and bones were supposed to. She could even see the mechanical muscles flex, just like real ones.

And even though the healing process had begun, her skin regrowing down her arms to conceal her unnatural composition, she could still see them. One more reminder of what had been done to her in the past, when she had aparently been quite willing, accepting these changes in their entirety. Tina may not have wanted such things initially, but she had learned long ago that there were often situations one found oneself in that you couldn't do anything about except grin and bear it. Which is what she did, after freaking out in sickbay. It had taken some hours for various individuals to get her to calm down, but no one would answer her repeated questions - Who did this? Why me? What's going to happen to me? What HAS happened to me?

No one would answer. She had been told by the one guy, Saul, that they were working on figuring things out. If they had known her when she was known as Eve, shouldn't they already have those answers? Nothing made sence anymore. She wasn't human anymore but a machine, or at least parts of her were. Other people around her weren't human either. Most of those were bizzare creatures she could never have imagined, and a precious few were machines, like that Savant girl that had helped keep her alive when everything when to chaos. She was who knew how far from Earth and her home in Moscow, and aparently she was living in a time so far beyond her comprehension that it was almost ludicrous. The construction was different, too. No wood, bricks and mortar, no candles or fireplaces. Even the cloth of the clothes was indescribably different.

So much was different, so much was WRONG, she was so completly alone, and no one wanted to answer her questions. No comforting morsels of information to tell her that everything was the way it was supposed to be. They couldn't see it! Fir them THIS was normal, and it blinded EVERYONE to her plight. Even Nara. She had been told that there were some people on this ship that were almost ageless. Alauras or something, they could live for hundreds of years. Tina figured one of them might come closer to understanding, but still it wouldn't be enough. THEY hadn't been so completly ripped from their homes that they couldn't go back ever again. They hadn't had their entire family ripped from them, never to see again.

None of them had, not to the extent Tina was suffering from. Nothing was right. Not any more. The worst part of it was the fact that, in this huge world, so much bigger than anything possible, she was utterly alone.

"Forgiveness"

Anjoli D'Barri
CMO Miranda

Branwen London,
Furies XO and psychologist, Galaxy

Anasta, Anjoli's mother

The next day Bran was very nervous while she waited for Anasta. She was not looking forward to this but she knew she had to do it. And it helped that Anasta was supporting her and not her daughter.

At last, Anasta arrived. She wore a dark gown of mourning, and her expression was somber. "This is your day, child. Are you prepared?"

"How can I prepare." Then she noticed the other woman's expression. "What's wrong?"

"This will be difficult for both you and my daughter, Branwen. My daughter needs to know she made a mistake and to learn from it. But I will not enjoy seeing her humbled."

"I… I don't plan to humble her, ma'am." Bran swallowed, "and if you don't want me to do this…"

Anasta shook her head once firmly. "No, this must happen. Rape is the ultimate crime in my people's culture, and at the very least she must acknowledge how her lack of restraint can harm others.."

"All right lets do it." Very nervous Branwen requested a connection to the CMO of the Miranda. Shortly, after a a delay of only a few minutes the emerald face of Anjoli D'Bari was plastered across the display.

The doctor's typical smile was suppressed. replaced with a contrite and humble expression. "Branwen....I was expecting your call. I am pleased to see you appearing healthy after your recent difficulties."

Branwen swallowed. It was not easy for her to see the other woman. "Ma'am." She said hesitating. "Thank you. I… I need to hear you say that…. That you are not evil.' She was a bit lost for words and looked at Anasta.

Anasta simply gave her a reassuring smile. "You are doing fine...." she whispered.

Anjoli shook her head. "No. Branwen. I am not evil. I owe you the most profound of apologies. I misunderstood your innocence for playfulness, and did you harm that cannot be repaired. For this I am...ashamed."

With this, Anjoli bowed her head and kept her eyes averted.

The other woman nodded. "Because I respect and greatly like your mother, I have already decided not to press charges. Maybe I should have been more clear myself. I just... I have never come across a situation like this before." She leaned forward. "Perhaps you should seek help for your affliction. There are therapists that I am sure can help you. For your sake, and from what I understand from your mother you have a partner."

Anjoli nodded, still keeping her gaze to the ground. "I meant no harm."

"I believe that now. But in your zeal you might hurt others. And what does it say about your relationship with your girlfriend? How is it for her to see you with others?" Branwen was less scared now. "It is a known addiction, addiction to sex."

With each new point, Anjoli flinched "I am as the Great Mother made me. The world has shaped my heart. I cannot be reforged into something new and shiny."

"It seems to me like avoidance. Even your mother agrees." Branwen said it gently. Now feeling sorry for the other woman.

Anjoli clasped her hands together and bowed her head over them. "On this I shall consider. Please forgive my transgression."

"I do." Bran said after taking a deep breath. "But learn from it, please."

Anjoli lifted her hands in a plaintive manner. "I can but try. Thank you for your generous forgiveness."

"Good. I will ask you after it the next time our ships meet again." She turned to Anasta. "Do you want to talk to your daughter, ma'am?"

Anasta put a hand upon Bran's shoulder and looked towards the image of her daugther. "My child already knows my feelings upon this matter. She will learn from this mistake, or pay a bitter price one day."

Anjoli murmured a few words in her native tongue, still lifting her hands in forgiveness. "I wish you nothing but pleasant days before you, Branwen. One day I hope we shall meet again, this time in more welcome surroundings."

"I welcome that, a new start between us." Bran said.

After the connection was broken she turned to Anasta. "I hope she will be alright. First she has to admit to herself that there is a problem."

" This will either awaken her to her plight, or drive her deeper into the abyss. But her partner is brave and loving. They shall endure this and prosper one day."

"I hope so."

"Wandering Thoughts"

Nara was working pretty much round the clock. She did allow herself about 30 minutes for meals, time to pick Saia up at times, and if Saia needed to, she would spend time talking. However, Saia was likely feeling neglected again; so got silent. But her attitude wasn't as bad as before and Bran was around.

Nara stood in the sonic shower. With the bits of breaks she gave herself, she didn't sleep at any of them. Her body was accustomed to this routine. But she still, as part of the small breaks, allowed for personal, daily hygiene.

The closer they came to their meeting point, the more nervous Nara became. These were the BORG. Relentless beings that had millions of collective knowledge and strength. She didn't like the idea of assimilation. Would it be the same as being held against your will in your own mind as some Dithparu drove your body to fatal exhaustion? Seeing yourself hit the man you loved? To lash out at her pseudo-family?

All in all, it was being held prisoner. Either by Dithparu or a Sakarian traditionalist militia or having to hide in Trill as her death was faked. She'd had her share of feeling trapped. She didn't want to add Borg assimiliation to her list. She almost decided she'd rather die than be assimilated. But there was an escape from assimilation. Captain Picard and Seven of Nine were examples of reformed Borg. It could be undone. Death couldn't.

As she fixed her hair, she found herself of different thinking. It came out of nowhere and was quite odd in the midst of a crisis. Saia wasn't safe here. And was she herself growing tired of constantly being worried over Saia and frankly herself being hurt? Settle down? She sighed and mumbled to herself. "Everyone has these thoughts. I doubt Saul and I will ever be married and I do love him and I'm not ready to give him up yet. Or my career. This life will make Saia strong in an unsure Universe. This is it for now." She tried to push the thoughts away. However, something tore at her heart as she admitted to herself Saul couldn't be her life-long love. He was her Imzadi. She didn't follow Betazoid custom, but from what she understood of that one, Saul was her Imzadi.

Someday in the future, he would leave her for some sordid adventure and she would find a nice, stable man who would love Saia as much as she did and they would marry and settle on Sakaria.

But Saul Bental, her Imzadi, would always be deep in her heart and in her dreams at the darkest of nights. He would always linger. ~Like he did for Faylin.~ She shook her head and let out a sad laugh, "How many woman have you left a permanent mark on?"

Pushing those thoughts far away and going back to her ignorant bliss and focusing on schematics and pressure readings, she walked into Engineering.

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